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kurogane2512 · 2 days

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Eirene Birthday 2024

Yeah I couldn't hold back after this message so here it is (tho I'm late)

18+ CONTENT

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Eirene x gn!reader with a dick (Chief)

Type: Smut with plot, long fic

"Ms Eirene, there is a guest for you- the Chief of MBCC." One of Eirene's servants informed her while she was seated in her dressing room, getting ready for her birthday banquet.

Eirene hummed and noted the time to be 6pm then told the servant to bring you in, feeling slightly surprised at your unexpected arrival. She then sat upon her vanity and started applying her eyeliner when she spotted you appear through the door in the mirror's reflection. Eirene smirked to herself eyeing you in the mirror and let out an amused sound.

"What a pleasant surprise, Chief. Here to wish me for my birthday?~"

"Actually, yes."

Eirene's eyes remained fixated on you hearing your words, wondering if you were saying the truth. She kept down her eyeliner then stood up and took a few steps towards you. You smiled while glancing at her from head to toe then extended out the packet in your hands.

"You look beautiful. Happy birthday, Eirene."

Eirene looked at the packet and could tell there was a gift inside. She accepted the packet and kept it on one of the side tables before coming back to stand in front of you, crossing her arms over her chest and lips curled up from one corner.

"Thank you, Chief. Is this your way of making up for declining my invitation for tonight's banquet?~"

You looked at her in surprise, "....I would have wished you regardless of the invitation. It's your birthday."

Eirene let out a soft chuckle, "Well, would you come to the banquet with me if I made it as a personal request?~"

You pursed your lips out of hesitation, "Sorry to disappoint you, Eirene. I'd be quite of place at such a gathering, and I do have a lot of work to do. I was barely able to take out time to come right now."

That was only half the truth, you didn't reveal one other reason which was perhaps the most important one. Eirene's expression didn't shift and she simply nodded, "It's a shame, I'd have liked your company. But, thank you for your blessings, my dear partner in crime. I think victory in 'war' at tonight's banquet is certain~"

You squinted your eyes at her strange words, "What do you mean?"

"Hm? Isn't it obvious? Every interaction, every meeting, every gathering, is like a battlefield for me. Today's banquet is no exception."

"But.... it's your birthday, you are supposed to celebrate and enjoy. Can't people give you a break even on your birthday?!"

You sounded rather assertive in the end, making Eirene slightly surprised. Her heterochromatic eyes looked into yours as if she was staring right into the depths of your soul.

"You are a strange one, Chief. You should be aware by now I'm always ready for battle, be it with words or actions. This world is too cruel to have a moment of respite for someone like me."

Your fists clenched involuntarily as you remained silent, unable to refute her words. You then heard her heels tap as she walked closer to you and kept her palm on your chest, leisurely sliding it up and down before cupping your face.

"The only battle I'd hate to have is with you, but if that day ever came then I expect nothing less than a satisfying fight from you~"

Eirene leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of your lips, leaving a mark of her deep red lipstick.

"Let's meet later tonight, shall we?~" She then leaned near your ear to whisper, "I'll be going all out against you and I trust you'll make it a thoroughly enjoyable experience for me~"

Your face turned red at her words, "Will you even get the time? Won't the banquet go on till late night?"

"Hmm, that depends on me and my victory~"

You let out a sigh and accepted her deal. Eirene still wished you'd have come to the banquet, your presence would have eased some pressure and thrown people away from her but in truth she simply wanted to be with you than the pretentious bunch hogging her. The war tonight was fought with tactics, seductions, boasting etc— everything Eirene had been prepared for. It really didn't feel like a birthday banquet for her, she was only waiting for the moment for it all to end.

It was 10 pm now as you were finishing the last stack of papers in your office. You'd have finished much earlier had your mind not been occupied with thoughts of Eirene and the words she spoke, you wondered what she wanted to do with you and your mind always wandered to particular fantasies which you'd have to bring yourself out of and focus on work. You looked at the clock and questioned if she was really coming, you knew her victory was guaranteed but you were concerned for her wellbeing. Parties of the rich were exhausting, after all.

Some moments later, a knock resounded on your door and your hopes skyrocketed thinking Eirene had arrived. But you were met with slight disappointment as it was simply your Adjutant reminding you to sleep on time and not overwork yourself. You shook your head and let out a sigh before resting back on the chair, gazing up at the ceiling. You wondered what Eirene was doing, how the party went, if she enjoyed or it really was a battle as she called it. Suddenly, another knock came followed by the door opening and your eyes widened.

"Still awake, Chief? I see you waited for me~"

It was Eirene. She was still wearing the dress you saw her in earlier, her face slightly flushed as if she was tipsy.

"E-Eirene! I didn't think you would...."

"Hm? Why wouldn't I? I made a promise to you, I'd never break your trust."

You quickly stood up and walked up to her, allowing her inside by gently holding her arm. Her body leaned into you and pressed you against the wall, her head resting on your chest.

"Are you okay? You shouldn't have forced yourself, you must be tired after the party."

"Mmm.... I'm fine, Chief. It was indeed quite draining but I saved enough energy to be with you~"

You felt guilty for refusing her invitation, had you known she wanted you around so much then you would have swallowed your hesitations and came for her. Eirene leaned away from you and stood up straight, looking at you with a smile that seemed to hold some expectations.

"So... how was it? What all did you do?" you asked her.

"The usual. Throwing off guests trying to flatter me and have a share in my fortune, having a battle of wits with enemies trying to make me slip up and spill my secrets, and avoiding weasels who slink up to me in hopes of grazing my body."

Eirene stated nonchalantly, showing just how common such things were for her.

"....Did you eat something? Or even drink?" you asked, worried.

"Certainly; the dining table is another battlefield, after all~"

You let out a sigh while she chuckled softly.

"So, what do you want to do now? I'd really want you to rest up."

"Don't forget your end of the deal, Chief. I'm still ready for another battle tonight~"

"Hah~ Fine, come with me then."

You grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the office, leading her to the cafeteria. The place was empty now as all Sinners had retracted to their cells, the staff was essentially up just for you and your late-night requirements. You went to the bar area first and sat down with her, ordering a few drinks for both of you.

"Drink as you want, Eirene. Nobody is here to trap you in your words and reveal your secrets."

Eirene chuckled and picked up the glass in front of her then clinked it with yours while announcing 'cheers'. You both took one sip while gazing at each other then she languidly leaned against the bar table, letting her hair flow free from the bun and fanning her face. She then began ranting about the kind of people she met and what conversations she had, letting all her frustrations out as alcohol slowly climbed in her system. She wouldn't do this anywhere else or with anyone other than you, the trust between you and her was one of a kind.

"You know, Chief, all this would be more tolerable had you been there. Now that we are revealing all our thoughts, why don't you say the real reason for declining the invitation?"

You looked at her with hesitance and pursed your lips, "It's nothing serious, I didn't lie about the work and feeling out of place...."

Eirene chuckled and kept her palm on your thigh, slowly rubbing it in circles as if to rile you up.

"That's unfair, Chief. I thought there were no secrets between us~"

You knew nothing would escape Eirene, she saw through your half-truth easily. You looked down and gritted your teeth then finally let go.

"W-Well, I thought you'd be judged quite harshly for inviting me. You know, why would the Quinn CEO have any relation with the Chief of MBCC bla bla..."

An amused smirk crept up Eirene's face, she had already made guesses about the reason and this one was the most likely in her eyes.

"Hehe~ How easy you are to read, Chief. I know you are the straightforward type, but don't wear your heart on your sleeve so much. Try to make your behaviour more.... unpredictable~"

"You are the one who's too good at interpreting people! I was being very cautious this time....!"

Eirene let out a hearty laugh, perhaps the first time she laughed so openly today. You pouted as you felt ridiculed but soon eased out looking at her carefree state, you were glad to see her enjoy even if a little. She stopped laughing then looked at you with a smile and interlaced her hand with yours.

"Let's play some games, Chief~"

You were caught off-guard by her proposal, "Games? Like board games or something?"

"Mhm, you have some in the recreational area, don't you?~"

"A-Anything but chess, please...."

"Haha~ Don't think I cannot beat you in other games, Chief. Well, I'll let you pick a game~"

You sighed then made your way over to the recreational area together, you looked around to decide upon a game where you'd have a decent chance of winning then finally settled on one.

"How about Pool?" you suggested.

"Interesting choice.... do you think I won't be able to beat you in this?~"

"Not really, but I feel I can put up a better challenge than in others~"

"A good challenge, that's what I wanted. Don't disappoint me now, Chief~"

You walked up to a Pool table and arranged the balls then took your respective positions with cue sticks in hand. Eirene let you have the opening move to give you a head start and the match continued from there. The goal was the usual- score the most pockets without fouling. The match turned quite heated as you teased each other for failed moves or missed chances, the alcohol riled you up from Eirene's provocations and you became quite serious about winning while Eirene appeared as calm as ever.

"Why don't you show your true nature, Chief. I know you are hiding some kind of secret move~" Eirene taunted.

The match was going head-to-head for the most part until you finally took the lead for a while but Eirene recovered soon after. It reached the point where only 1 ball remained, the deciding play for victory. You took your position and angled the cue stick with focus and precision then hit the ball but missed the pocket due to applying too much power. The ball rebound from the edge and ended up on your side again.

You clicked your tongue and stepped away to give Eirene space and have her turn. You were pinned up to the wall as the space between the table and wall was rather small this side, you should have stepped to the other side instead. Eirene eyed you deviously as she walked in front of you before bending upon the table and angling the cue stick. Somehow, she was perfectly positioned right in front of you which made her butt stick out and rub against your crotch.

You shivered from the unexpected stimulation and gazed at Eirene's figure. You suddenly felt hot all over looking at her exposed back as it was arched up from her position and the way her curvy behind snuggled against your crotch. You looked at her face and she was focused on the play, not at all bothered by what was happening behind her. You wondered if she did this intentionally, you wouldn't be surprised if she did. She then moved in circles for a bit as she adjusted her position to find the perfect angle.

You lost all focus on the game and were only looking at her now, your hands trembling with the urge to hold her. Your pants felt tighter and you hoped she wouldn't notice but you knew that would be in vain. She then suddenly stepped back a little, completely pressing her butt into you and squeezing you against the wall. You held back a groan and tried to shift out of the way but it was difficult, you were trapped by her. You tried to look up at the game and saw her hit the ball finally, and to your dismay, it went in the pocket making her the winner.

Eirene stood back up and you breathed a sigh of relief while she turned around to face you with a big smile on her face, "See, I told you, Chief!~"

You were practically sweating now and did your best to hide your semi-erection, "Y-Yeah, congratulations! I guess we should call it a night now! I'll drop you off—"

You turned away from her and were about to walk away while wiping your sweat when Eirene held your hand and pulled you towards her before pinning you on the wall. The next moment, her lips were quickly pressed on yours while her hands cupped your face possessively. Your eyes widened but you couldn't hold back your urges anymore, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her even closer. The whole game had riled you up due to her taunts and provocations, and the last 'interaction' was the breaking point.

"Don't act so innocent, Chief. I want my prize for winning now~"

She whispered between the kiss, her knee grinding against your erection.

"You did that intentionally.... mmh... d-didn't you?"

"Don't say you didn't like it. Look at your state now~"

"Is this what you wanted all along? You shouldn't have wasted time with the game then~"

"Mmm, it was fun. I liked being able to enjoy without any worries. Now, I expect you to give me a real gift. You have to thoroughly please me~"

"Yes ma'am~"

Eirene smirked before smashing her lips to yours again, engaging in a passionate kiss. Your tongues mingled together, your hands groping each other to pull off any piece of clothing. Eirene discarded your coat and unbuttoned some of your shirt before sliding her hands down to unbuckle your belt. Your hands found the knot of the strings of her dress and hurriedly loosened it, letting it fall down her upper body and exposing her breasts.

"W-Wait! We should move elsewhere—!" you protested.

"I don't mind it, Chief. Nobody will come here at this hour, and you can delete all the footage from the cameras later~"

Eirene husked before going down to kiss your neck and chest, leaving prints of her red lipstick on your skin. An idea occurred to you all of a sudden, you pressed the button on your ear piece and eyed the camera in the corner.

"N-Nightingale, turn off the cameras in the recreational area for tonight. Also, nobody is allowed to come here until I say so...."

There was silence for a moment before a reply finally came, "....As you say, Chief."

You removed the ear piece after her reply and threw it across the Pool table. Eirene had already opened your pants button and unzipped your flyer, palming your erection through your underwear.

"Good thinking, Chief. See, I knew you are worthy to be my partner in crime~"

She was about to take out your cock when you pushed her back making her lean against the Pool table and grasped her leg up to your thigh, pressing your bulge to her clothed core. She let out a sultry gasp, lacing her hands in your hair and clenching your back with her nails.

"Ahh.... calm down, Chief. I'm not going anywhere tonight~"

Eirene whispered while rocking back n forth on your erection. You dived in near her neck and inhaled her intoxicating scent while pressing kisses to her skin, pleasured sighs leaving her mouth and flowing in your ears. She nipped your shoulder before biting down at a spot, making you hiss before grabbing her breasts and kneading them.

"S-Sorry that I didn't come, I didn't think you wanted me there so much. I was just worried for your—"

"Shh, say no more, Chief. I'm used to doing these things alone, but knowing that there is someone out there genuinely supporting me gives me lot of encouragement. It's just that.... the party would have certainly been more enjoyable with you, and you already gave me an enjoyable time now. It's rare to have a chance to be alone with you like this, why don't you please me as you promised?~"

You nodded with a smile then dropped to your knees, spreading apart her legs to expose her soaked core. You caressed her legs up to her thighs then slid of her panties that were already wet with arousal, followed by rubbing you finger over her folds. Eirene softly sighed in pleasure and rested her legs on your shoulders, essentially pulling your face closer to her core. You looked up at her and saw her smirk before intertwining her fingers in your hair, tugging you forward.

You raised up her thighs then lapped up her folds once, sending a shiver in her body which made her arch up. You followed this with more licks to her clit, flicking your tongue on the bud in quick motions. Eirene hummed as your tongue went deeper, eventually plunging it inside her and sucking. Your thumb circled her clit while you ate her out, your tongue grazing her sensitive spots and sucking on them. Her grip in your hair tightened and she pulled you deeper, wrapping her legs around your head and squeezing you in.

"Y-Yes, Chief.... aaah.... right there.... Oh! You are good at this— hngh~!"

She leaned back on the table more, her body heaving as her orgasm approached. Her free hand went to pinch and twirl her nipple, she gazed at you with ragged breaths and adored your focused state pleasuring her so well. She loved having you worship her this way, treating her no less than a queen. She doesn’t care what others would think of her being with you, they don’t know you like she does and.... when have they ever known her true self even? She ran her hand through her luscious hair, tilting her head back and moaning your name, moaning for you to go deeper and harder.

That’s exactly what you did as your mouth latched onto her clit and sucked the bundle of nerves while fingering her walls, finally making her release. Eirene sat heaving as you cleaned her up before standing up, she immediately pulled you in by your neck into a passionate kiss while she felt your throbbing erection rub against her abdomen. She was impatient now, too pent up to go slow and sensual. Her palm slipped past your underwear and directly grabbed your shaft, wasting no time to finally free it from the confines.

“L-Let me get a condom....” you stated and were about to walk away when Eirene gripped your shaft tighter and essentially pulled you closer by it.

“Leave it now, Chief. It’s too late for it~”

“But—”

“Oh, just be quiet now~” Eirene abruptly kissed you while trying to align your length to her core. “It’s fine today, I need it this way~” She whispered against your lips and you let go of all worries too as you gripped your cock and rubbed the tip across her vulva, mixing your pre-cum and her slick.

“Mmm.... don’t be so gentlemanly now, Chief. I’m expecting you to fuck me~”

Her words caught you off-guard as she rarely used such crude language. You then shoved forward and plunged inside her in a single thrust, entering her half way then sliding to the hilt. You groaned together at the penetration, feeling overwhelmed by her warm walls enveloping you tightly and your girthy length filling her up completely. Eirene arched back and wrapped her legs around you while gripping your shoulders, a nod from her was all you need before starting to thrust in and out.

You started slow at first just to ease her, you were tempted to slam in as she wanted but that wasn't your style and you knew Eirene loved it your way more. Her hooded eyes gazed into yours, conveying an insatiable lust and need, the look making you lose control and increase your pace. She bit her lower lip as you became faster and deeper, pulling out till the tip remained then quickly shoving in all the way. She felt all her sensitive spots being touched at the same time, your cock was inside her so well.

"C-Come on, Chief.... We are not lovers— aaah.... y-you don't need to be so careful~"

You gritted your teeth then suddenly lunged forward and laid her flat on the table while plunging down into her at a harsh pace. Eirene moaned incoherently, surprised by the change but loving it nonetheless.

"I'll still fuck you like a lover— guh!~" you announced as you slammed into her, your thighs slapping against hers as you kept up the pace. Eirene smirked in victory and pulled you in for a hug, wrapping her arms around you while sweetly moaning in your ear.

"Show me then! Show me how you do it like I'm yours!~"

You buried your face in the crook of her neck and thrusted in and out at an animalistic pace, fucking her just the way she wanted. Her hands slid down your back making scratches from her nails, marking you up as her property. Eirene knew she wouldn't feel this pleasure from anyone else, all those people trying to flatter her to get inside her were worthless. It was ridiculous at some point, how could she feel this from you? But here she was, letting you ram into her like a beast and thoroughly enjoying it.

She was eventually turned over and bent against the Pool table now as you entered her from behind, impressed by your stamina as you hadn't cum yet. There was no way she was cumming before you, but she was finding it difficult to hold on with how your cock drilled at all her sweet spots just the way she liked. Your hands grasped her butt and spread her cheeks apart further, taking in the sight of your cock piercing her. It was irresisitible to have the Quinn CEO this way, little did you know you were the only one she'd bend over for.

"Aaahn! Yes! Yes! Mmmm~! F-Fuck me, Chief! Fuck me harder! Let it all out!~"

You grunted and pressed her lower back down, putting her in a beautiful arch with her head tilted to the back and eyes rolling to her skull. You then leaned forward and pressed your front to her back while your arms wrapped around her waist, sneaking down to touch her clit. Your thighs slapped against her ass and produced erotic sounds, your finger rubbing her clit eagerly to make her release.

"Eirene.... you are so tight d-damn.... Why don't we do this more? When was the last time we did this— ngh!~"

"F-Forgotten already, Chief? I don't blame you.... aaah.... i-it was almost 8 months ago... mmh!~"

"How did I live without being inside you for so long.... s-shit...."

"Y-You tell me, hehe.... Don't you have other people for this?~"

"No... I have been so busy, I didn't do with anyone else— fuck!~"

"Oh my, you have been pent-up for so long? Hehe, I'm glad to b-break your streak then— aaahn!~"

Eirene practically screamed as you suddenly made a harsh thrust, hitting her deepest spot then continuing to hammer at it the same way. It wasn't as fast as before but it was so much deeper and harder, she could feel every part of your cock graze her walls. You raised up her right leg and and put it over your shoulder then grabbed her waist and ploughed in and out brutually, the table creaking as her body bounced against it.

"I-I'm going to cum— fuck! Let me pull out!~"

"N-No, give it to me inside! You said you'll fuck me like a lover!~"

You took a deep breath then turned her over completely and pulled her up in your arms, carrying her as she bounced on your cock while you leaned against the wall. You hilted all the way as you finally released, gushing her walls with your thick stream of cum. She came at the same time and held your length in a deathly grip, practically milking you of every drop you had. She felt so full as your cum poured inside before you pulled out your cock, letting some drip down her thighs. You breathed out together and she leaned in to kiss you, you were worthy of her in every way and she hoped you'd understand that.

#path to nowhere #ptn x reader #path to nowhere smut #path to nowhere x reader #happy birthday eirene #eirene x reader #ptn eirene #eirene smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

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Cool for the Summer 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: baby girls, he we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You rinse out the bowl you used for your oatmeal. It’s only as the back door opens that you notice the roar of the mower’s stopped. You put the porcelain in the dishwasher and shut it as you hear footsteps down the hall. It’s almost ten o’clock.

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky greets your back as he enters. “I just put fresh water in the hot tub. Might go for a soak myself, try to loosen up these muscles.”

You face him, “hot tub?”

“Oh, yeah. Guess that’s new too.” He chuckles. “Another one of my projects.”

“Right,” you nod. A sudden buzz makes your jump.

You look around and scurry across the kitchen to grab your phone. It’s a message from your mom. But why would she text you? Can’t she just come downstairs?

‘Is Bucky still there?’

You stare at the message and frown. Huh?

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asks. Your eyes flick up.

“Um, yeah, erm, it’s my mom...” you shake your head.

“Right, how’s work going for her?” He plants a hand on the counter and leans.

“Work? It’s her day off,” you blink.

“Ah, yeah, she said she didn’t want to wake you up when she left. She got called in. Emergency.” He explains.

You clutch the phone as you stare at him dumbly. Why didn’t he mention that earlier? Well, it’s not on him, you could have checked. But if she’s gone, why is he still here?

“Don’t spoil the surprise,” he says, “about the lawn.”

“I won’t,” you look down and text her back.

“So how about it? You up for a soak?” He asks again.

“Um, I’ll think about it. Just gonna chat with my mom,” you waggle your phone at him and meander to the door.

‘Great. You two can get to know each other.’

Her answer is disappointing. You thought she’d be surprised, maybe confused. It’s all perfectly normal to them. You’re still adjusting. If she’d told you before you got there, it wouldn’t feel so strange.

At the same time, you don’t want to let her down. You can’t just ignore her message. You have to try but you feel like you haven’t even had time to settle in. And he’s not the only thing that’s different. Your room doesn’t even feel like yours.

You stand at the bottom of the stairs. You key in a final reply. ‘Ok’. That’s it. A tepid agreement.

“Hey,” Bucky surprises you again. “Invitation stands,” he wipes his forehead, his bicep bulging as he does, the muscles of his chest straining. “I’m just going to get in my trunks.”

“Uh, I... I’ll think about it,” you make yourself take a step up and climb steadily, refusing to look back.

You stare at the phone. You don’t want to be rude. You’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why your mother didn’t mention him. You might do the same in her shoes. After so long being single, she was probably just letting it pan out.

Still, she could have said something when you were on the train.

Whatever. It’s not your place to complain. You’re still living under her roof, rent-free, after years of tuition on her dime and a lifetime of dependency. You can pretend like this is all okay.

You go into your room and shut the door behind you. You wouldn’t have a swim suit in the dresser, you didn’t bother to pack it for college. Wherever your other clothes are, it should be there. You just don’t know where that is.

A tank top and shorts should do the trick. You prefer that to an actual swimsuit. It won’t feel so revealing.

You take out a hot pink spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black shorts. You switch out your clothes, catching your foot in the shorts and tripping slightly. You stand up, shirtless, leaning on the vanity as you get your balance.

You glimpse your reflection and shy away. You tie the string of the shorts and reach for the tank top. You pull it over your head and check yourself in the mirror. It will do. You hope.

As you come out of the room, another door opens. You peer down the hall as Bucky emerges from your mother’s room. You gulp and flick your eyes away from him. He wears a pair of light blue shorts, so short you might mistake them for briefs. His thick thighs and torso flex with his movement as he approaches, a towel over his shoulder.

“You changed your mind?” He asks as he comes closer.

“Erm, well, I... I’ll give it a try. I’ve never really been in a hot tub, so...” You poke your fingertips together nervously. You don’t want to tell him your mother told you to be social.

“Great, kinda feel like a loser sitting in there by myself. It’s really too bad your mom had to go in.” He sighs.

Yeah, it is. You wonder why he didn’t mention it sooner. Or why he’s hanging around. You guess you don’t really know how things work around here anymore.

“Don’t forget a towel,” he winks as he pats the one on his shoulder. “I’ll go get the cover off and you can come hop on in.”

He brushes by you, his knuckle glancing off you as he does. You shuffle down to the linen closet and take out a towel. You don’t follow him right away.

Your stomach is a flurry of nerves. It’s just the oatmeal. It always sits like a lump. You didn’t think about that, you were just hungry.

You go downstairs and drag your feet to the back door. You come out onto the deck and peer around. The tub sits in the deck, installed where the table used to be. It steams as Bucky steps into it. He sighs and groans, muscles clenching up his back and sides. He must work out a lot.

You look down at yourself. Self-consciousness creeps over you. It’s been a while since you thought so much about it. You tried not to focus much on your body; as long as you liked what you’re wearing, you don’t worry about what’s underneath. You don’t have the most extravagant taste but you have a few cute pieces.

He lowers himself into the water and lets out another drone. He shifts around to face you but doesn’t seem to notice you as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath so his chest puffs out.

You set your towel next to his on the small table near the edge. You near and stand at the lip of the tub. Can you just sneak away?

“Hey,” his voice rolls over the bubbling water, “it’s not bad. Come on. It feels great. It’ll loosen you right up.”

You nod and bite your lip. You get down on your butt before you ease yourself down onto the seat of the tub. The water steams and spits just beneath your shoulders. It is nice though it does raise a thick sheen across your forehead.

“Mmm, trust me, when you’re mine age, you’ll need one of these,” he smirks. “So,” he stretches his arms around the frame of the tub, “what’s the plan, doll?’

“The plan?” You flap your lashes.

“For the summer? Beach days with the girls? You wanna invite some friends over? You can have the tub to yourself,” he offers.

“Mm, no, I... I’m looking for work. Uh, probably send out more applications.” You shrug.

“Looking for a job? Ah, right, no more school, huh? Exciting. You got the whole world in front of you.”

“Mhm, yeah,” you reach to rub your neck.

“I’m sure you’ll still have time to hang out with your friends,” he insists.

“Uh, I don’t... I don’t really have any,” you utter. You look away and stare at the fence.

“No? Well, all my buddies are too busy for me. I know how you feel.” He says, “you know, we could be friends.”

“Um, yeah, maybe,” you look at him again as you chew your lip. His eyes snap up from your chest. You look down and try not to show your horror. Your nipples are entirely visible as the pink fabric clings to you. You cross your arms. “You’ll be busy with my mom.”

“Not all the time,” he says “You know, ever since she got this promotion, she’s been too busy for me.”

“Ah, erm, I'm sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” He asks.

You shake your head, “I don’t know...”

“Mm, I know why,” he tilts his head.

You stare at him in confusion.

“You know a guy like me shouldn’t be kept waiting around. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? You can’t help but feel bad knowing I’m left all on my own. Lonely.” He traces a finger along the edge of the tub as he speaks.

“I... guess. I don’t... know? I just...” You look away again. You can hardly stand the heat of the water as it boils your blood.

He snickers and you wince as he shifts around the tub, sliding into the seat next to you. He slips his arm behind you as he does. You shrink down and stare at the deck railing. What is he doing?

“This is nice, isn’t it? Getting to know each other?” His fingers tickle your shoulder as he crowds you. “You know, seems like we have a lot in common, doesn’t it?”

“Um, erm,” you squirm in the seat. “I think... maybe... I should...”

“Relax, it won’t do you any good if you don’t relax,” he girds. “I’m just saying, baby girl, seems like we’re both pretty lonely.”

He leans back into the hot tub and lets his head fall back. You bend your arm, rubbing your other, and fidget. You want to just go but you’re scared to move. You don’t think you’re really afraid of him, he probably won’t stop you, but you’re just all locked up.

You sit there, staring through the slats at the green lawn. The water babbles and your ears pulse. He continues to caress your shoulder.

“Mm, baby girl, come on, just let yourself...” he taps your arm, “lean back, huh?”

You obey. You lean back into the tub and slide down in the seat, trying to mimic him. Your head hits his arm as you recline. It is nice as the jets shoot up your back.

“Wait, wait, you gotta get in the right...” he grabs your thigh and drags you towards him. “..place. Make sure you hit all the pressure points.”

As he moves you, you spasm and cry out in surprise. A jet blows right against your shorts, a stream of water that sends tingles through you. You try to move back but he holds you in place. He squeezes your thigh and kneads.

“Ah, yeah, baby girl, right there? Doesn’t it feel good?”

You squeak as the water hits your clit through your thin shorts. You put your hand on his and wiggle. That only makes it more intense. Does he know what’s happening?

“Please...” you gasp.

“What did I say? Relax,” he continues to rub his fingertips into your thigh. “You’re all tense, baby girl. Let it go.”

Your eyes round and you contort, trying to take the pressure off your clit. It doesn’t help. You puff out and grab onto his arm without thinking. He needs to let go. You can feel a throbbing inside of you. It hurts. Please, stop.

The sensation crests and coils through you. Your muscles clench then release all at once. You squeal in shock and shame as your body twitches. You think you just... orgasmed?

“Baby girl, what is it?” Bucky leans into you.

“I...” you heave. “I-- nothing.”

“Mmm, nothing?” His hand crawls up your leg and over your stomach. He twists and bends his arm, cradling your head and turning you to face him. You shiver as he cups your chest through the wet fabric and runs his thumb over the hard bud beneath. “Cause I think you just came in this nice clean water.” He leans in closer until you feel his breath against your lips, “baby girl, I thought you were going to be good for me?”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #cool for the summer #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #avengers #au #marvel #mcu #captain america #winter soldier

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becausebuckley · 2 days

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michelle's buddie fic recs: week 38!

some more fics!! it’s been an excellent reading week!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading!

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all you're giving me is friction | hammersmiths/@henswilsons | 7.9k | T

Eddie is new, and married, and Buck won’t stop flirting. 5+1. excellent team vibes and such a fun twist!!

family feud: first responders | Princessfbi/@princessfbi | 3.2k| G

The FireFam go on Family Feud. hilarious lovely fic that was so nice to read in 911 family feud week <3

ice cream before dinner | cloudydaisies | 58.6k | T

gerrard messes with the team's schedules and eddie 'i just drove my son to flee the state' diaz is the only option to watch mara and jee-yun after school on tuesdays, which, shouldn't be a problem at all, right? this made me cry. eddie and jee and mara <3

i'm here (i'm yours for the taking) | farfromthstars/@doeeyeseddie | 19.1k | T

at the winter wedding of an old friend, buck and eddie pretend to be married to each other. the plan has no weaknesses, obviously, not even mistletoe or anyone’s secret feelings… using this as a blanket rec for this author because i've been slowly making my way through all their fics and every single one of them hits the spot <3 but this one in particular has a lovely lovely pretend relationship and it's so good!!

invisible string (tying you to me) | bookinit/@bookinit02 | 5.3k | T

buck, eddie, and the intimacy of a properly-tied shoe. buck's acts of service <3 i love fics of buddie doing Totally Normal Friend Things hehe

i've only known you to keep your word | thisissirius/@thisissirius | 4.4k | M

buck's lonely and eddie knows. i love fics that go no no this man's not gonna be lonely anymore and this is exactly that <3

no thing defines a man (like love) | timeshareindestin/@timeshareindestin | 12.3k | T

the buckley parents are visiting LA for jee's 4th birthday. which is fine, except they don't know two things: 1. buck has hearing aids again, and 2. he's engaged to eddie. hard of hearing buck series my beloved <3 i love eddie's interactions with the buckley parents and the maddie convo!!

a reservoir in your eyes. | dylaesthetics | 7k | M

the Buddie roommates fic where Buck’s apartment burns down, Christopher teaches him Gen-Z slang, and Buck finally snaps. the buck and chris slang bit never fails to cheer me up!

You Ran Outside and Caught the Moon | yoddream/@yoddream | 47.8k | M

Eddie wants to tell him that it only happened yesterday, but then he thinks about quarantine, and when Shannon died, and when she left for LA after he was discharged, and when he found out Chris was diagnosed with cerebral palsy, and when Shannon told him she was pregnant, and when he was ten and his dad yelled at him for crashing his new truck because his mom was in labor and nobody was around to take her to the hospital. He thinks about how he wanted to disappear every time, wished for something to kill him so that he didn’t have to face his fears, deal with reality. It hits him like his dad’s truck hit the tree. mind the tags for this one but it's such a fantastic character study and exactly the fic i needed this week <3

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic rec #911 abc #911 fic #911 fic rec #michelle’s recs #fic rec list #a bunch of good ones again <3 #scheduling this a day in advance cause i’ll be super busy rip but enjoy!!

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seventeenreasonswhy · 1 day

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Super Shy ~ A JWW School-Life Romance Pt. 3

Star Athlete!Wonwoo x Shy Wallflower!Reader

Jeon Wonwoo... THE Jeon Wonwoo is... paying attention to you!?

~1.5k words

Read Part 1 + Part 2

Series content: fluff, first crush plot line, school-life anime vibes, slow burn/yearning, some light angst, classmates to friends to lovers, fem reader, reader is ~*super shy*~ and has low self-esteem, reader is kind of bullied (?), sweetie pie Wonwoo, appearances by Choi Hansol and more!, all characters are in high school so no explicit content (but probably kissing eventually).

My Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged, and liked this little series so far! This part reveals more about Y/N’s interests and talents, which she’s afraid to share because she is insecure! But not for long with sweet Jeon Wonwoo around. Also she has a fictional younger sister named Daehee (not after anyone in particular, I just like that name). 😉 These two are so innocent and cute, I’m having such fun writing them! Enjoy!!

Taglist: @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah @yangtyunhannie @cherrylovescheol @lukeys-giggle @cookiearmy @sojuxxi @vixensss @lixisoul99 @mjpark15 @lelsforlino @neivivenaj @blvkkeddcc (lmk if you want to be tagged!)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

“Whoa you’re going all out on that, Y/N—”

Your younger sister, Daehee, had come down for breakfast with her bangs still in curlers, wearing her school uniform shirt over her Hello Kitty pajama pants. She was watching you as you concentrated on preparing various dishes at the stove. A thin omelet, grilled shishito peppers, vegetable tempura; it was pretty simple stuff, but you’d developed an urge to create aesthetically pleasing lunches these days.

You couldn’t really explain it, although somewhere in your heart you knew it probably had something to do with Jeon Wonwoo.

For the past week, Jean Wonwoo had been spending lunch on the roof alone with you.

The two of you barely exchanged words, really. Your longest conversation probably lasted only a few minutes. But not for Wonwoo’s lack of trying! You still wondered why he was spending his lunchtime up there at all—even more so why would he keep trying to strike up conversations with you? You guessed he really was just that nice. But every time you were around him you couldn’t help clamming up somehow.

“Are you in any clubs, Y/N?” he’d asked you the other day, between bites of his kimbap.

“Uh, no...” you answered quietly, your nerves frazzled from your total lack of conversational skills.

“None of them appeal to you?”

“Uh, not really that...” you didn’t know how to answer him. You’d ended up just looking at him blankly, like a fool. However, nothing in his facial expression or his tone made you feel like you had to necessarily come up with an answer... But his gaze was intent, and you found it hard to hold onto for more than about three seconds.

“What do you do for fun? To relax?” he followed up breezily, “You’re the class mystery.”

“Um,” the odd self-consciousness you felt at being called ‘the class mystery’ aside, you couldn’t really think of anything to say to him.

Actually, there was one thing that came to mind... but it wasn’t something you’d ever shared with anyone. Your one ‘hobby.’ Though to you it felt more like... squeezing a stress ball. It was what you did when you needed to turn your brain off.

He wants to know what I do to relax?

You couldn’t say what compelled you, but you pulled out your phone and found the photo album you had saved of your miniature paintings.

You worked with acrylic paint on very small canvasses, using very fine, small brushes to create miniature floral designs, portraits, landscapes... Your style was incredibly detailed. You had hundreds of tiny canvasses in little boxes and frames all over your room. You took pictures of most of these tiny paintings when you finished. You had even recorded a couple of time-lapse videos, showing you creating them in fast motion. You’d never felt compelled to create a social media account to display or monetize them, though. You painted because it was what you had done since you were a preteen—the careful, methodical process of dabbing tiny paintbrushes into your carefully mixed colors, getting the tone and shading of a poppy flower’s petal on a tiny scale just right... For you, creating these paintings was like a meditative practice.

By some stroke of inspiration—or insanity—you handed your phone to Wonwoo. His face became visibly more curious as he took your phone carefully in his hands.

“Wowwww,” Wonwoo said, holding the screen closer to his face. He seemed absorbed in your phone—you even caught him zoom in on a few pictures. You could tell he was looking carefully through the album.

“You’re crazy talented!” he said after a while. He sounded genuinely impressed.

“No, haha,” you somehow laughed, coughed, and gasped at the same time, your heart accelerating out of embarrassment from his compliment.

“No, seriously—Y/N, these are really incredible!” he said. “They’re so detailed, and they’re so small! How do you even do that!?” His eyes were glued to your phone screen. A part of you was screaming inside, why on earth you would show these to him!? and urging you to snatch your phone right out of his hand, throw it over the side of the building even. You couldn’t believe that Wonwoo was seeing this, this... habit. And YOU had been the one to show him, of all things!

“I wouldn’t say they’re ‘incredible,’” you said, filling up with more and more anxiety over coming off as bragging or crossing some social boundary that you shouldn’t have crossed.

Wonwoo finally looked up from the screen, looking directly at you instead. You still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you felt his eyes on you. After a long pause, you dared to glance up at him...

But he quickly looked away from you.

Ugh, I’m probably making him feel like he has to be super nice or something...

“Oh, whoa—a time-lapse?” He said, quickly recovering from the somewhat awkward moment when your eyes had met. But his stumbling across the most recent time-lapse video that you’d made prompted you to snap out of your reverie and bolt to grab your phone out of Wonwoo’s hands.

“Ah, don’t watch that!” you lunged for your phone, but Wonwoo reflexively pulled his hand away, surprised by your reaction but still effortlessly dodging your attempt. He smirked down at you, and your heart almost stopped.

“Why not?” he said, and the deep resonance of his voice made you realize how close your bodies were—you were practically sprawled over him after reaching for your phone, his face just inches from yours...

Your whole body seemed to flush a deep shade of red before you catapulted backward away from him. You could have sworn that you saw that Wonwoo smiling to himself, but you were so flustered and anxious about the way you’d completely invaded his personal space that you couldn’t think straight.

“I won’t watch it,” he said light-heartedly, smiling at you as he tossed your phone back to you. “But you are super talented, Y/N. Painting is such a unique skill, too.”

And just like that, he went back to eating his kimbap like nothing had happened. His relaxed, friendly tone mercifully neutralized the atmosphere, but you just stood there clutching your phone to your chest.

“It’s not that I’m embarrassed,” you started, even though you couldn’t look Wonwoo in the eye, “It’s just��I’ve never shared these paintings with anyone except my family...” Your heart kind of ached for some reason as you said this to Wonwoo, who just continued to look at you in silence. What on earth had compelled you to share that with him?

Agh, say something! You willed for this pause in conversation pass, but it didn’t seem to be budging.

“Thank you for showing me,” Wonwoo said at last. His low, gentle voice seemed to shoot directly into your bloodstream, flushing you an even deeper shade of red than you thought was humanly possible. You looked at him briefly, and something about the way he was looking back at you...

The moment had played over and over again like a movie in your head for the past few days. The directness of his gaze. The rich, sincere quality of his voice. The way he’d smiled to himself... you couldn’t stop thinking of that particular lunch hour.

Standing at the kitchen counter, Daehee watched you dip veggies in tempura batter and toss them in the pot of hot oil on the stove. You let your mind run through the questions it had been asking all week: why was he spending time with you like this? Did he lose a bet? Is there some kind of hidden camera prank you should be wary of? More than that, why was he being so nice?

“Hellooo, earth to Y/N! I said you’re really going to town on your lunches these days,” Daehee tried again to get a rise out of you.

“Oh,” you said, taking the last piece of tempura squash out of the oil. “I just like experimenting.” You weren’t lying, exactly—you did like exploring all kinds of different food and dishes. Cooking was fun to you, different from the calm of painting.

You would be lying if you said that an added bonus wasn’t Wonwoo noticing and complimenting your work.

You liked it when he praised you. It felt like he meant it.

No one could be that good at faking sincerity, could they?

You couldn’t help but hear that small voice in the back of your head, doubting Wonwoo’s intentions.

But he hadn’t done anything other than come up to the roof during lunch this week, mostly just eating in silence with you—the two of you simply looking out at the sky...

But after you had shown him your paintings...

Maybe it was since then that you had started to put more effort into your lunches.

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animasolaoriginal · 3 days

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I n f a t u a t e d ♦️TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE TEN◾ELEVEN TWELVE

As he drags her deeper and deeper into his world, introducing her to yet another dominant character, she quickly realizes it's all too much. Or is it?

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Fem!Dom. Bondage. Fingering. Sex toys/vibrators. Double penetration. Overstimulation. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 9.2k

ELEVEN 🟥 TWELVE 🟥 THIRTEEN

The worst thing about being measured isn't the act itself, but how this woman keeps handling her as if she were a doll, talking about her as if she weren't even here. She's glad he's with her, and his presence does give her enough comfort to endure whatever the seamstress does to her next, but it's still an ordeal she really doesn't want to go through. Even if it means he'll buy her new clothes, clothes that will really fit her body, not just randomly picked shirts and skirts and underwear that came always only close to properly fitting her.

He's putting in so much effort for her, probably leaves quite a sum in this strange store, and she is grateful, but she also has never been this humiliated in her life – and that is after spending an entire weekend with a stranger who choked her on his cock, fucked her ass as if it were the most natural thing and made her lose control over her body in the most mortifying way.

It is actually this other woman that makes her feel worse than he could ever make her feel (though forcing her to walk around with his cum leaking into her underwear and that woman definitely noticing is a weird little transition between the two). While he always made sure she was okay afterwards, she is downright mean to her.

Called her an object. Actually slapped her.

She also has cold, clammy hands, and the way her measuring tape cuts into her skin and pokes at her nipples and other sensitive areas is not how she expected to be treated here. Not that she expected to be brought to a tailor in the first place. The entire day (and it's only a little after lunch, she assumes) has been far from anything she could have ever expected. Packing up her stuff, leaving her apartment for the last time presumably, letting him lead her into a new life... It is, simply said, more than overwhelming.

The ordeal continues, and she is either staring at the floor, biting her tongue to keep quiet and still, or she's looking at him, how he leans against the wall, strong arms crossed over his chest, in his fancy suit, so tall and intimidating and strangely enough the only anchor she has here. His gaze is intense, and she can only imagine what he is thinking about, fantasizing about.

Probably how he will take her next, and the thought alone makes her squirm on her feet a little, the heat seeping right between her legs where his cum is still caked into her panties, warm and wet, initially a mortifying feeling (because she knows the other woman must have seen it too), but also weirdly comforting. His mark on her, almost as obvious as the countless bruises on her neck that still throb slightly when she moves her head.

But as with most of her aches, she's ignored them enough to almost forget about them. They're part of her now, of her situation, her life. She's still trying to wrap her head around it all. She's living with him now. Staying with him, more likely. Will he keep her in his bed, locked into his bedroom when he's not there? How will this go? Will he lock her up like a pet or give her more freedom? What would she prefer?

She doesn't know, and while she is caught in her thoughts about it, she suddenly feels a soft slap to her butt cheek that startles her. “All done,” the seamstress says in a mock friendly tone, and while she stares at her, she notices him walking closer, a cold “Tsk” on his lips that makes the other woman flinch slightly.

His hand closes around her wrist as he pulls her off the platform and against him, and she looks up in relief, focusing fully on him now, even though his eyes are fixed on the tailor behind her.

“I'll have your order ready by tomorrow,” she says, and he nods while his hand moves to her lower back, warm and comforting as he pulls her a bit closer.

With how she tilts her chin up to look at him, she doesn't notice what's going on behind her, and frankly, she doesn't care about the seamstress anymore. She wants to forget about this whole thing as soon as possible.

“Raise up your arms.” His voice makes her blink, and she realizes she has just stared at him without paying any attention at all. He's stepped back a little, let go of her, and now her dress, the little pale pink one he chose for her to wear, is in his hands.

She lets out a surprised gasp, but obliges and raises her arms, still focusing on him, though a little bit more present when he pulls the dress over her head and smooths it down her body. His hands slip around her neck and into her hair as he frees it from the collar, thumbs brushing over her jaw as he looks down at her, a strange mixture of a dark hunger and a soft admiration shining in his eyes. She bites her lip, a nervous gesture she's utilized a lot lately, and he raises an eyebrow as he watches her closely. She stops immediately, taking a shuddering breath.

He cups her face, his own a stoic mask, before he straightens up again and lets go of her, exhaling loudly. Without another word, he grabs her hand, nods towards the tailor she had already erased from her mind, and pulls her out of the room, back along the narrow hallways to the door they had entered through. Instead of turning to the elevator, he walks to the left, further into the belly of the building until they reach another unassuming door.

She's never been behind the scenes of these fancy department stores before (and she assumes that's where they are – the normal places she's bought clothes at before certainly didn't have their own tailors in hidden backrooms, just bored teenagers waiting for their shift to be over), and despite the rather humiliating start, she is fascinated by it. His world is so different from hers, it makes the whole situation feel more like one of those princess makeover shows instead of the abduction movie that it is.

As she was being measured, her mind had gone all different directions, back to the beginning, crossing over that sentence that made her question everything: “You made me take you,” he had said, making it sound as if it had been all her fault. And maybe it had been. She had approached him, made the literal first move, and he had reacted. Not the way he probably should have, but does it even matter now? Abduction sounds so much more serious than what she had experienced with him. He might have taken her, but she can't remember anything of the actual taking, so maybe she did agree to it?

And maybe she even agreed to all the vile things he did to her, and maybe they had felt a little wrong to her just because she was so inexperienced, had nothing to compare his behavior to. If anything, she now knows a lot more, about sex, about her own body, about his body, about the thin line between pain and pleasure, and most of all, she knows that despite her initial reluctance, she wants this, whatever it is, with him. As long as she's allowed to stay with him, as long as he keeps giving her that precious head-empty-feeling, she will be fine with whatever he does.

Even though her stomach is tensing up, in the worst way, at the mere thought of what that may be. Even after a weekend of being used in ways she could have never imagined, he is still the most unpredictable man she has ever met. And it scares her – more than it excites her, though she's learned to come around eventually. Emphasis on come...

Inhaling deeply, she watches him as he raises his hand to rap his knuckles against the door they've stopped in front of. But then he seems to hesitate, his eyes moving down to meet hers. She feels a blush creeping up her neck at the intensity in his gaze, but it's when he suddenly crouches down in front of her that she lets out a soft yelp. His hands slip under her dress, fingers hooking around the waistband of her panties, and while she stiffens, on the verge of protesting, he pushes her underwear down her legs so swiftly she can only stumble back slightly.

As he balls up the garment in his big hand and stands up again, she stares at him in confusion, instinctively pressing her thighs together at the sudden loss of fabric between them. He puts her panties into his pants pocket, an unreadable expression on his hard face. Instead of giving her any explanation or doing anything else to her, he turns back to the door and knocks.

Her head is spinning, and to ground herself, she focuses on her surroundings again. The hallway around them is bland, as is the door, but there is a tiny sign with a symbol on it, and when she realizes what it portrays, she feels a single bead of sweat run down between her shoulder blades. It's got the shape of a freaking butt plug.

Her hand twitches against his leg on instinct, and he meets her gaze for a moment as she stares up at him with widening eyes. He only has time to give her a crooked smirk before she can hear footsteps on the other side of the door. It opens and takes his attention away from her. Slowly she follows the motion and feels her heart sink at the sight in front of her.

“Ah, what a lovely surprise,” the woman that greets them says with a strangely exotic accent that she can't place. She is... beautiful, to say the least. Dressed in a tight black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, accentuating an impressive bust as well as a narrow waist and wide hips, the woman balances on precariously high heels, shiny and bright red, her legs are long, her arms are toned, golden rings and bracelets hang from the hands she extends towards the man next to her, completely ignoring her.

He steps towards the woman whose long hair falls in heavy waves around her slim shoulders, framing a face that could belong to a model for sure. High cheekbones, full lips, long dark lashes, a smile that would disarm anyone – but it only creates a deep, dark void inside her stomach as she watches the tall woman throw her arms around the slightly taller man. Something cold grows within her like tiny little ice flowers when he puts his big hands lightly on her tiny waist, the same hands that have been on her body before...

She feels like a literal child next to the two adults, not just small, but hideous in her pastel pink sundress and old shabby sneakers, while the handsome man receives not one, but three kisses on his cheeks from the woman who moves so elegantly on those shoes slash murder weapons that she feels unsteady just looking at her.

Once their greeting ritual is over, she hooks her arm around his, throwing a blinding smile at him and slowly pulls him through the open door, whispering something she cannot understand that makes him smile back at her – all while she, the tiny girl, is left standing on the bland hallway with her heart racing and something ugly festering inside her stomach.

The strange feeling dissipates the moment he suddenly turns back and looks at her, extending his hand, and she almost trips over her own shoes as she steps forward and grabs it, too eager to follow, too eager to touch him as well. The smile on the woman's face freezes, turning cold and fake as her dark eyes follow his gesture, and she feels a shiver crash down her spine as they meet hers.

She quickly averts her eyes, squeezing his hand tightly as she catches up and almost presses into his side, trying to hide behind him to get away from the scrutinizing gaze of the other woman who's let go of his arm to hold the door. Together they leave the unassuming hallway and step into a space that doesn't feel much better.

It's a wider hallway, the walls are black, and as she brushes the knuckles of her free hand against them she notices that they feel soft like velvet, shimmering slightly in the dim, almost purple light shining from the fancy chandelier hanging high above them. She looks around curiously, sees various doors, framed by golden trim, adorned with golden details and handles. It looks expensive, exclusive, too fancy for her tastes, but it's not the luxury that twists her guts. There's a faint smell in the air, and she can't quite put her finger on it.

The woman walks past them, fixed on ignoring her, her heels thudding softly over the carpet. She turns to the second door on the left, that fake smile back on her beautiful face as she looks at the man she's clinging to like a lost child. He keeps holding her hand as they follow her into another room. The light is brighter here, the walls lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves that hold various sizes of black boxes she cannot look into.

The door clicks shut behind them, and the smell becomes overwhelming. Like rubber, plastic, with a strangely sweet undertone, earthy like leather. Artificial, weirdly familiar. She swallows dryly. They walk to the middle of the room, there's some sort of bar, and the woman steps behind it while he pulls her to the other side, nudging her to slip onto one of the two bar stools while he remains standing behind her, one large hand on her shoulder to hold her there.

She feels him close to her, his warmth a comfort she certainly needs when she lets her eyes wander through the room once more. And slowly, very slowly, it dawns on her. He brought her to a freaking sex shop.

Apart from the unassuming boxes on the shelves, there's a wall, plush looking and red, that holds an array of objects that make her frown and shiver: things that looks like riding crops and canes, whips and paddles, some solid, some with holes, most made of leather, some with wood, expensive looking, intricate, and she forces herself not to think back to the few times she's followed her curiosity into the darker corners of the Internet.

Despite her great aversion to sex toys, she knows of them (before she was forced to experience them), seen them in use in various porn clips and gifs, she may be inexperienced, but she hasn't been living under a rock. Though her desire to pleasure herself has been majorly dulled after seeing one too many of these darker themed videos centered around helpless girls in precarious situations, unable to move, bound and gagged and then... tortured, there's no other word that comes to her innocent mind. It had been deeply disturbing.

It's only now, after spending more than 48 hours with a man who would seem to enjoy exactly those kinds of clips, that she learned that there is pleasure in pain, but she still doesn't want to get near any of the objects hanging from the wall. She can still feel the phantom pain of his hand on her butt cheeks when he'd spanked her, she can't imagine what it must feel like to be hit with a wide leather paddle or a thin wooden cane.

Shuddering deeply, she looks away quickly, but her gaze only falls onto another display, another plush wall, this time there are hand cuffs hanging from hooks, things that look like collars and leashes, leather and metal gleaming in the soft lighting. There are even masks and muzzles and blindfolds and... gags. More items she doesn't want to learn more about.

When she brings her attention back to the woman behind the bar, she notices that she's watching her with a dark smile, full lips curled, a glint in her eyes. She clears her throat and turns slightly to look up at the man behind her, and he has the same glint in his eyes. Her frown deepens as she looks from one adult to the other. (She's technically one as well, but still feels like a damn child between them.)

“I have to admit,” the woman says in her sweet, exotic voice, “I am a little surprised. You visit me so rarely, and usually not with... this kind of company,” she adds with a smile, her eyes moving away from her to him, and she feels him shifting against her, his hand curling around her shoulder, and despite the somewhat possessive touch, she feels that coldness poking at her insides again when she imagines these two alone in the same room, surrounded by sex toys. “Did you come to pick up your order?”

“No,” he replies, his deep voice vibrating against her, cutting through her dark thoughts. “I doubt you have it ready so soon.” The woman's smile turns a little sour at his mocking tone, but she keeps her facade, tilting her head slightly, shifting from one leg to the other as she leans against the bar. “I need something more immediate, to go, if you will.”

A surprised laugh escapes the older woman before her eyes land on hers, and while she looks back at her in confusion, she smirks darkly. “To go, huh? That's why you brought your little pet?”

It's like another sting inside her, being called a pet after being called an object, but she tries her best not to let them see how flustered she really is, not only by the names, but by the implications. She's in a sex shop, and whatever he wants to buy for her, she already knows she'll hate it. It's only been this morning that she woke up with a damn dildo stuffed inside her, held in place by a freaking harness. Does he really want to fill her up again? Can't he give her a break?

No. Of course he can't. She is his to use, to have, to control, he'd told her that, and she can't say no, because she somehow agreed to this. Submitted to him. And if they'd be in his penthouse and he'd ask her again to choose one of those many colorful toys he stores in his bedside table, she'd be somewhat okay with it, but it's the place, it's the woman, it's everything that happened prior, that makes her wary, that twists her stomach, that feels worse than anything he'd made her do before.

She feels the blush creeping up her neck even before the woman bends down to pick up something stored beneath the bar, and when she puts a large glass case in front of her, her heart sinks and her cheeks burn up fully. It's two rows of items lying on soft looking red velvet, and by now she can tell by the shape of them, where those are supposed to go. She feels the respective holes clenching in terrified anticipation. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she fights the shudders crashing through her body, her fingers clawing at the hem of her short dress.

He steps beside her, his hand still on her shoulder, his grip tight, demanding, as he leans closer to take a look at the display on the bar.

“The usual?” the woman asks, and she notices how he stiffens beside her, and it's that motion that distracts her from her spiraling thoughts. The two words hang in the air, making her wonder. She actually never questioned his large collection of sex toys, but it makes sense. He's a popular man, she's seen him disappear with various girls before he had finally picked her. It shouldn't surprise her that there have been others in the bed he'd taken her virginity in, others he's used those toys on. (She just hopes he's cleaned them afterwards...)

How he now looks at the woman though, it feels strange. As if she said too much, said something she shouldn't have said. It only deepens her frown. Before she can make sense of it, a deep vibration hums in the air, and she looks down at the glass case with a raised eyebrow, goosebumps crawling over her exposed arms, but it's not one of the toys, it's his phone.

He lets go of her shoulder and pulls it from his pocket, then sighs as he glances at the display. “I gotta take this,” he says, letting the device buzz in his hand while he moves his free one over the spotless glass. “That one,” he says quickly, his voice harsh and business-like, pointing to one of the larger, longer items in the case, and while she stares at him, his words and choice settling heavy in her stomach, the woman nods with a professional smile. “Prepare her for me?” he adds with a last look, and she can hear the sharp inhale and slight hesitation of the shop owner (and frankly, she feels the same. What now? What kind of service is that?).

“Of course,” the woman says despite her initial reaction, her voice calm and friendly, while her face is a mask of dark disdain as she watches him turn around and leave the room with quick steps, the phone already pressed to his ear – and the girl squirms on the stool, eager to follow him, absolutely not wanting to stay here, alone, with that woman, surrounded by freaking sex toys and horrifying bondage equipment – and the prospect of being prepared to take something up her ass again.

Her heart clenches as she fists the hem of her dress, trying to ground herself, her breath quickening when the woman taps her manicured nails on the glass case in front of her. She looks up timidly, meeting a rather sinister smile that makes her skin crawl with goosebumps.

“Well then,” the woman says and stores the display case back beneath the bar. “Let's get... ready then, hm?” She walks towards one of the shelves and picks up a medium sized black box, then nods towards a corner of the room that's partitioned off by a heavy looking curtain. “Get in there,” she adds, her tone much rougher than before.

“Yes, ma'am,” she mumbles, unable to stop the words. It's a reflex, an instinct, an inborn thing to obey when met with people like this. Demanding, dominant. She's just surprised this works with women as well.

Shuffling on her sneakers, her thighs still pressed together, she makes it past the curtain, and freezes. It's a room filled with strange benches, plush ones, leather ones, some lower to the ground, some higher up, definitely shaped to accommodate a body draped over them. There are wooden structures behind them on the wall, boards in an x-shape, and when she notices the hand cuffs dangling from them, she feels a cold shiver rushing down her spine.

“Bend over that one,” the woman tells her, her formerly flowery voice cold and demeaning now, and she follows the delicate hand pointing to one of the benches, a leather one shaped like a triangle of some sort.

Unable to stop herself, she walks to it, inhaling deeply, her whole body shaking, but somehow she does as she is told and presses her stomach against the soft leather, then bends forward, her hands gripping a metal bar on the bottom to steady herself. It's a strange position, leaving her rear completely exposed, and it's only after she's bent over, that she realizes that he took her panties from her.

A soft laugh comes from behind her, pushing even more blood into her already red face. “You came prepared, huh?” the woman mocks, and she flinches badly when she feels two hands on her hips, slowly moving up the thin fabric of her dress. “Of course you'd be. He always thinks ahead...”

Her comment distracts her from the humiliation of the situation. Always? He's brought girls here before? Then again, why is she surprised? She's established he's a popular man with unique tastes, why should she be the first to go through this treatment? Swallowing hard, she grips the metal bar tighter, resting her cheek on the cold leather beneath her, trying to breathe her fears and doubts away.

A sudden slap makes her yelp, her body convulsing against the bench. “So responsive, good,” the woman whispers, more to herself, while she flips her skirt up fully, scratching her seemingly gloved hand over her throbbing ass cheek, the sound of the rubber making her skin crawl. “So, are you familiar with having things up your pretty little bum?”

When she doesn't reply immediately, the hand is back on her rear, the smack even louder, crashing through her nerves instantly. She gasps, almost chokes on her spit, before croaking out: “Y-yes, ma'am.”

“Yeah? Like what? Dainty little metal plugs? Vibrators? Cocks?”

“M-metal ones,” she whispers breathlessly, shame burning through her body when she adds: “And... c-cock...”

It's one thing to experience those things, but talking about them with a complete stranger? And she thought being measured by a rude woman was bad. Her day seems to spiral more and more, so even the idea of being roughly fucked on a desk, unprepared and raw, sounds better than having to endure this. Actually, anything that includes him would be better right about now.

She feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she wonders where he's gone, when he comes back, if he comes back, why he's left her alone with this woman in the first place, why he lets her get so close to her body that's presumably all his...

A sudden stab of something cold rips her right out of her thoughts, her choked yelp coming almost a second too late, when she feels a thin finger pushing into her puckered hole without hesitation. She clenches around it as the woman moves something wet and cold around her insides. A whimper escapes her at the feeling, it's soothing as much as it is uncomfortable. The finger retreats, she hears the squirt of some liquid, and another cold dollop of what she assumes to be lube finds its way into her ass.

Weirdly enough this feels better than when he had his fingers inside her, dry and rough, forced and unexpected, and for a moment her body is confused by the attention, her core clenching, warmth settling low in her stomach, her thighs twitching slightly against the bench. But then the woman adds another finger, pushes deeper, and she feels her long sharp nails on her tense muscles, even through the glove.

Stiffening under the sensation, she grits her teeth, forces down her noises, doesn't want to draw too much attention to herself, wants it to be over soon. Her mind is spinning. Why is she even allowing this? She's come to terms when it came to him, wanting to please him because he gave her a new life, but this woman? Will she never be able to say no ever again? Will she let anyone do to her whatever they want? Is this what she's become?

A groan is forced out of her throat as she feels more pressure on the tight ring of muscles when the woman adds another finger, or maybe she's even using her whole hand now, she can't be sure, it feels like too much, stretching her, pushing deep, the lube squelching out of her with an obscene noise that makes her shiver deeply.

But then the strange sensation is gone, and she's left empty, her muscles clenching in confusion, her breath quicker, her heart thundering inside her chest, a single tear running down the side of her face. She hears the crinkling of paper behind her, the squirt of the lube bottle again, gloved hands rubbing over a wet surface. It's still a surprise when she feels something solid pressing against her sphincter, no matter how well she's been prepared.

As it is pushed deeper into her ass, she sees the shape of it in the glass case, sees his finger pointing at it, and she shudders deeply. It's longer than any plug she's had, not as long as his cock, but close, and luckily not as girthy, but it's made of differently sized balls pushed into a hard line, and she can feel every single bump as it slips into her, how her muscles tense around it, then give way, allowing the next to move in.

The woman is surprisingly gentle, but she still lets out quiet whines as the toy fills her up. Then it stops, resting hard and heavy inside her, and she yelps when her ass cheek is slapped once more, causing her muscles to clench around the insertion, holding it in place. She sniffles, biting her lip, trying to adjust. It feels strange, unfamiliar, but ultimately not as bad. Not that she can do anything against it anyway...

“What an obedient little pet you are,” she hears the woman's voice behind her, almost soft, as she moves her wet hands over her skin, her thumb poking at the base of the plug. “I'm almost jealous he found you first...”

Another slap clears the confusion in her head as she rocks against the bench, gasping. She feels her dress being pulled down again, then hears the sound of gloves being removed with a snap of rubber. She's still breathing a little harder when she's nudged off the bench and forced into a standing position again. Her legs are shaking, that object inside her moving with every twist and turn of her body, making her flinch.

“Thank you, ma'am,” she hears herself saying, her eyes glued to the floor, head bowed in a mixture of submission and shame, but there's something else swimming in the back of her mind as well. Gratitude, excitement at being praised, even if it wasn't by him.

The woman laughs softly. “Call me Mistress, pet,” she says, her long nail scratching along her throat as she grabs her chin and makes her look up. “You've earned it.”

She stares at her, chest rising and falling faster, her core clenching involuntarily. “Yes, Mistress,” she echoes quietly, making her opposite smile warmly.

Footsteps sound behind her, and she dares to break eye contact when she sees him pushing the curtain aside and entering the room. She blushes deeply, averting her eyes, standing stock-still while the woman lowers her hand and turns around.

“All done,” she says with a tilt to her head. He nods approvingly, stepping closer, his large hand suddenly finding her arm before he twists her around and presses her back to the bench.

She gasps, stiffening when he rips her dress up to expose her rear, then presses his finger to the base of the plug, forcing a choked groan out of her throat. “Any trouble?” he asks, rubbing over her probably reddened cheek.

“No, she's been very obedient,” the woman replies, and he huffs a grunt in response.

“Good,” he says and pushes her dress back down, before gripping her arm again and pulling her against him. She stumbles slightly, looking up at him. He meets her gaze, and a smile creeps onto his stoic face. “How do you feel?”

He's asked her the same thing when he has stuffed the dildo into her cunt, and back then she has felt full, it has been uncomfortable, strange, and having the larger plug in her butt still feels weird, with her muscles trying to adjust to the unfamiliar intruder by clenching around every bump of it, but overall she feels... okay.

“I feel fine,” she replies quietly, trying herself at a shy smile as he studies her face.

“Fine, hm?” he repeats with a dry laugh.

He looks away then (and she follows his gaze), nodding towards the woman who extends her hand to him, holding a piece of paper with a QR code on it. One hand on her shoulder, he slips the other into his pocket and retrieves his phone, quickly scanning the symbol, before the smile widens on his handsome face, almost turning diabolical.

She wonders what made him so happy, what's this all about, but then something strange makes her flinch, something from within. A yelp escapes her, and she grips onto his arm in surprise, feeling her muscles vibrating. No, not her muscles, the plug inside her. It's humming, buzzing against her flesh, a deep thrum that makes her entire body shudder. Her core clenches in response, her thighs trembling, and she leans against him helplessly.

He watches her with interest while his thumb moves along the screen, and the motion bleeds into the movement of the vibrating plug. It gets stronger, harder, throbbing inside her, coaxing little moans out of her that turn into gasps that turn into whimpers. She's clinging to him, and luckily he lets her, as her body quickly gets overwhelmed by the assault of sensations pulsing through her, all centered deep within her ass, but soon her cunt starts contracting too, clenching around nothing, and she cries out, squeezing her eyes shut.

“So responsive,” she hears the woman's voice, it's quiet and barely registers in her clouded mind, but she senses the hidden praise and it only makes everything worse.

The vibrations crescendo once more, loudly buzzing now, her whole body shaking, her nails digging into his arm, her lips parted, her shoulders hunching, her back arched, her legs feel like jello, everything moves, hums, shudders, muscles clench, convulse, contract, and she can only manage to issue a single croaked groan before she collapses against him, something warm and sticky dripping down her inner thigh.

He holds her, one strong arm around her, and slowly the thrumming gets weaker until it stops altogether, leaving her still shaking badly, the phantom sensation of having her insides vibrating clinging to her like she clings to him.

“Still fine?” he whispers, pressing her into him, his lips brushing against her damp forehead.

She's breathing harder, her heart still beating out of her chest, but she nods, a dumb little smile creeping onto her lips. “Yes, sir,” she mumbles, the words swimming out of her unchecked. Head empty, how lovely. He chuckles softly into her hair, before he slowly extracts her from himself, grabbing her shoulder to look at her. She can barely stand, but tries her best to remain upright, as she looks up at him out of hooded eyes.

He tilts his head, a curious glint in his gaze as he watches her closely. “Give me the same thing for her cunt,” he then says, the words barely make sense to her, but the woman moves behind him, replying with an amused: “Good idea.”

Her leaving footsteps are drowned by the soft yelp she issues when he suddenly picks her up and carries her towards another bench. This one is reclined, like a lounge chair, and she sinks into the soft leather, relaxing, eyelids fluttering, but as soon as he raises her legs and puts them into strange contraptions that hold them up and spread far apart, she slowly comes down from the high he's forced upon her.

He's standing between her open thighs, hands on her shins, holding her in place, his eyes wandering over her exposed lower body. She blinks in confusion, still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. The plug rests still and heavy inside her, the relaxed position pushing it a little deeper. She inhales sharply, wondering what's going on.

The woman returns, holding another black silicone toy in her newly gloved hands. There are leather straps hanging from her right forearm. A harness, she recognizes, and somehow that brings her down to earth with a force she hasn't expected. He wants to fill her even more, plug her up fully, and these things aren't normal dildos, they are vibrators, and he can control them with his phone. Oh for crying out loud!

She squirms in her seat, her legs kicking fruitlessly against his hold. He shakes his head and lets out a few “Tsk”s as he looks at her. It takes her a moment to obey the unspoken command, and it takes even more self-control to force herself to sit still. She bites her lip hard, breathing loudly through her nose as she looks from him to the woman and back, her heart beating harder again.

Once she's somewhat calm, he takes his hands from her shins, watching her closely, assessing if she'll stay calm, but then he sighs and fumbles with the thick leather bands attached to the contraptions that hold her legs up until they are bound in place, and she tests them immediately, tensing against them, but they won't budge. Her mind starts spinning as a strange kind of panic settles deep within her stomach.

He leans in then, a hand on her face. “Shh, it'll be alright, relax,” he soothes her, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. “Be a good girl, okay?”

She lets out a whine and nods obediently. He's playing dirty. He always did, but this feels like betrayal (and it's not even that he doesn't trust her to stay still, that he saw the need to restrain her), it's because he isn't alone. The woman watches her curiously, a dark smile on her full lips as she twists the toy between her long fingers. “Do you want me to prepare her?” she asks sweetly, her eyes boring into hers, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

“No, I'll do it,” he replies quietly, his hands already sliding down her inner thighs. And she's glad he does. The woman she's supposed to call Mistress still feels a little suspicious to her. She wants to feel good, sure, if she has the option, but not by her hands. He is the center of her new world, she doesn't need the confusion that comes with someone else pleasuring her.

Though this doesn't seem to be about her pleasure. With how they both look at her, she feels like a rabbit forced into a corner with not one, but two predators staring down at her, like grinning hyenas, eager to play with her.

And somehow it's all wrong when she feels his fingers sliding along her outer lips. What should have been an intimate gesture, a shared moment, a mutual exploration, is now a witnessed thing, with her being on full display, strapped into that strange chair-like bench, it would be almost clinical if it weren't for the soft lighting and dark interior of the room.

She's acutely aware of the woman watching his every move, how his fingers rub over her mound, creating these highly embarrassing squelching sounds when they dip between her folds, and she can't help it, she squirms, strangled whines escaping her as she turns her head away and squeezes her eyes shut.

Footsteps round the bench and then she feels two hands, gloved and a little cold, on her jaw, holding her head, turning it back, before a soft breath brushes against her forehead. “Open your eyes, pet,” the woman whispers, and she shivers, eyes flying open on instinct, a croaked gasp slipping from her parted lips. Her wide gaze finds his, and he watches her, stern, stoic, head tilted slightly, as he continues to rub his hand over her sex.

She's stiff on the bench, breathing harder, heart thundering, held by the woman's hands and the leather bindings around her legs, but it's his dark stare that freezes her to the spot, makes her shiver involuntarily. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she forces herself to relax, to focus on him. He holds her attention as he finally dips a finger into her already clenching hole, and she lets out a muffled moan at the sensation.

For a moment he just looks at her, moving his digit in and out slowly, testing the waters, teasing her resistance, almost a little too keen to coax those lewd sounds out of her wet cunt. Her nostrils flare as she fights the shame trying to burn up inside her. To soothe her, the woman presses her fingertips against her throat, applying soft pressure, but her sharp nails still scratch along her skin occasionally. She furrows her eyebrows, almost loses the battle against all these kinds of stimulation.

Eventually she does, when he adds another finger and really pumps into her now, and she feels her hips bucking, her shoulders tensing, body shuddering intensely. Her suspended feet twitch in their restraints, her toes curl, and she parts her lips to let out a wanton cry, her eyelids fluttering. He prolongs the moment of bliss by curling his fingers and bullying that special spot inside her with hard thrusts of his hand until she thrashes her head into the woman's hands and moans loudly, eyes rolling back, vision turning white.

And it's all gone for a moment, her orgasm crashing through her like a cleansing wave, letting her forget all about the strange room with its strange contraptions, the shop full of toys and whips and gags, and it's just his strong fingers guiding her through the exploding lights behind her eyelids, her body seemingly floating... if it wasn't for the pair of hands holding her neck.

The number of hands confuses her, and she slowly drifts down again, limbs relaxing, all of her sinking back down on the soft bench, while her heart is exploding inside her chest, her breath coming and going in hard puffs to fill her lungs with air again.

“Good pet,” a soft female voice whispers into her ear. “What a display...”

“Th-thank you,” she croaks out, still dizzy from her release, not sure who she's thanking and why, but the inborn instinct loosens her tongue enough to allow the words to spill out. Pointy nails dig into her throat, and she gasps, eyes fluttering open, the added word “Mistress” flying from her quivering lips.

But when the woman behind her eases her grip, her eyes fall onto him, and his gaze is darker than usual, eyebrows knitted, jaw clenched, and she lets out a strange whine, bucking up from the bench, wanting to get closer. Her hands, that have been gripping the sides of the bench in sheer panicked necessity, fly up and reach for him. She manages to slip from the woman's hands, but with her legs raised up and held in place as they are, she sits in a strange position, barely able to hold herself up, but her fingers still brush against the front of his shirt, fruitlessly trying to grab onto him.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers, feeling the need to apologize, tears burning under her lashes. He watches her, standing so tall and intimating between her legs, one of his hands raised, shimmering in the light, her juices dripping past his knuckles.

She feels the woman retreating, and suddenly his wet hand is around her throat as he folds himself over her, and she gasps breathlessly, hands now gripping at his wrist, eyes wide, lips parted in a silent cry.

“Right you are,” he hisses, his voice low and dark and dangerous. “You are mine, and only mine,” he looks up when he says those last words, and she hears a shuffle behind her. When he looks back at her, she stiffens even more, holding her breath (not that she could breathe anyway with how he squeezes her throat). “So what do you say to me?”

Her mind is blank with fear (and strangely enough a bit of arousal, may it be the remnants of her orgasm or a new wave of excitement), so it takes her a moment to understand his question, causing him to apply more pressure on her neck, but once she moves her jaw, he eases it and lets her speak, or lets her try to speak.

“Th... tha... thank y-you,” she stammers, her voice hoarse and feeble, her breaths panicked and fast, so she tries again. “Th-thank y-you, s-sir.”

Her attempts calm the anger that has overtaken his handsome face and it relaxes. He exhales loudly, and nods, slowly leaning back, his hand moving to slip around her head, gently squeezing her nape as he watches her, before he leans in again and presses his forehead to hers, staring deeply into her eyes.

“You are mine,” he says again, his voice vibrating through her. “Mine to use, mine to have. Is that right, darling?”

“Yes, sir,” she replies, much quicker, holding his gaze, feeling herself sinking into his eyes, his dominance, his guidance. “I am yours.”

A smile grazes his tight lips, and she could have sworn he is fighting the urge to kiss her, show her the affection he usually would if they were alone, but they are not, so he just leans away, lets go of her and straightens up. She relaxes into the bench, hands falling limply onto her stomach, fingers curling into the hem of her dress, her eyes following his every move.

He inhales deeply, his large form growing for a moment, before he breaks eye contact and turns to the woman who has retreated into the shadows (and she wishes she would stay there). She hands him the black silicone toy, already lubed, shiny in the dim lighting, its shape a little different from the plug still sitting heavy in her ass. It's a little thicker, about as long, but more rounded, imitating the shape of a cock but only just, also bends a little as he rolls it between his long fingers.

She stares at him, waiting for whatever happens next. Her mind is still buzzing from what already happened, from entering this store to being bent over and plugged and pleasured, to being strapped down and pleasured all over again, and it's not over yet. Despite the dizziness swirling within her, her body is already reacting to the sight in front of her, as he approaches her, steps between her legs again, the shining item in his large hand. Her chest rises and falls faster, heart still beating as if it wants to jump through her ribcage, palms sweaty and lips dry in anticipation.

He holds her gaze, a little glint in his eyes while hers are wide and fearful. She doesn't even know anymore why she prefers fingers over sex toys, maybe it's more natural, more personal to feel somebody's heat instead of a cold, lifeless item. A toy pushed into another toy. Does it even matter? She shouldn't fight this, she knows that, he won't like it if she did, but she can't stop the involuntarily twitch of her body, the bucking of her hips, the strain in her spine as she tries to move away from where he's pointing the dildo.

His hand is on her stomach, large and heavy, pushing her down but also grounding her, giving her that warmth she's missing, and somehow she calms a little under the touch, every deep inhale pushing back against his palm. In her raised position with her legs spread so wide open, she can see when he rubs the silicone toy between her wet folds, gathers her slick, adds it to the lube shining on the smooth material.

He prods the tip against her entrance, and she stares, holding her breath, tensing up despite herself. His hand presses harder into her stomach, coaxing a gasp out of her, the motion making her look up at him, and he looks at her, hard, but his eyes seem warmer, reassuring, calm, sure of what he's doing, telling her it's okay. And it is okay. She inhales deeply, clenching her fingers around the fabric of her dress as she tries to relax the rest of her body.

She reminds herself she's had a toy inside her before, for several hours to be exact, and it was okay, more or less. She's felt full and a little stiff, but it was okay. She has been able to sleep with it lodged inside her no problem (kindly ignoring the outcome of that endeavor). But then she realizes she is not in his penthouse, not in a bed, but in a store, in the middle of the city, and she is supposed to walk around with not one, but two toys wedged inside her holes. How the hell is that supposed to work?

“Ah!” A pained yelp breaks from her throat as her thoughts are rudely interrupted by him pushing the dildo past the initial resistance and then continuously further, without hesitation, deeper, forcing it past her tense muscles, and she whines at the sensation, at feeling so incredibly full, and even worse when she feels the toy nudging against the other one in her ass through the thin layer between.

She writhes on the bench, almost howling now by how strange it feels to be stretched this much, to be filled this much, and suddenly the woman's hands are back on her shoulders, pushing her down, holding her in place. She feels tears streaming down her face as she watches him out of hooded eyes, vision blurry, her body still fighting the intrusion, clenching, tensing up even more, her legs kicking fruitlessly in their leather bindings, but he doesn't seem to care, just pushes the toy as deep as it will go, and she sees it disappearing inside her, feels it prodding her innermost spots, or so it feels, stretching her limits.

The hand on her stomach presses down again as if wanting to feel said toy through her skin, and she is certain it has to bulge out of her with how deep it is inside her, but when he removes his hand, there's nothing, just her fluttering belly, flat and covered in a thin layer of sweat. The woman hands him the leather straps she's carried earlier, and he starts arranging them around her thighs and her waist and hips, nudging her shuddering body to accommodate his handiwork.

Her whines are breathless little gasps now, her arms shaking from how hard she clutches at her dress to ground herself. She barely dares to breathe with how full she feels, how snug the harness sits around her lower body, holding everything in place. The last buckle is closed and secured, and she stares down at the contraption, those thick black leather straps, shiny and expensive looking, straight out of one of those BDSM clips she's stumbled across before. And in stark contrast to that, there's her pastel pink sundress, wrinkled from how she's holding onto the skirt part, with its cinched waist and modest neckline and those cute little white flowers.

And the girl on the bench is confused, to put it mildly. How is this happening? How did she end up strapped to a bench in a sex shop and plugged up by a toy in each of her holes, holes that have been virginal only a few days ago, holes she wouldn't even touch herself. Surrounded by two dominant adults, who are now stepping back to marvel at the sight in front of them. Surely they must see the contradiction too, how innocent she is on the surface while her insides are stretched and bullied by those silicone things that have no right to feel this invasive and yet so...

It's growing on her, to say the least. The longer they sit within her, slowly becoming a part of her, or so she hopes, the less stressed she is about it (well, we'll talk about how she is supposed to actually walk with them later). At least she thinks so now, lying on the bench, unmoving except for the nervous flutter of her stomach, with everything resting.

And while she calms down, savoring the quiet moment, the woman and the man walk behind her, out of her line of sight, and for a few more minutes, nothing happens – until it all explodes.

She almost jerks off the bench when the first vibration crashes through her. It's a single stab of movement deep within her, the attached toy throbbing hard against her tense muscles, and in turn pushing even harder against the other toy, and she bucks her hips, cries out, kicks her legs in their restraints, her hands flying to the harness between her thighs, clawing at the straps as she whines in protest.

“Relax,” sounds his voice, loud, demanding, echoing in her ears, and instantly grounding her as she stiffens, body shuddering as it is forced to remain still. She's breathing harder, frozen in her cramped position, before a hand pushes her back onto the bench.

He reappears between her legs, one hand on her knee, rubbing soothing circles into her skin as he looks down at her, the other hand holding his phone, his thumb pressed to the screen. She watches him breathlessly, new tears burning in her eyes. The hum grows inside her as he moves his digit over the device, and she clenches around the vibrating toy, grits her teeth, forces herself to endure.

His hand moves down her leg, short fingernails scratch along her inner thigh, teasing her sensitive skin, scraping over the leather straps. She is fixated on his fingers, focusing, distracting herself, and she realizes the harness sits low on her hips, a thick leather band running from her pubic bone all around her mound until it comes back up between her ass cheeks, tight and snug, thinning. And it sits right over her clit, and all he has to do, is push it down against it, and she wails, kicks her feet helplessly, convulses uncontrollably.

He holds the pressure, moves his thumb over the screen again before the buzzing grows stronger inside her. She thrashes her head back, hips arching upwards, insides singing with these unfamiliar sensations, and he pushes further, increases the vibrations once more, drives her closer and closer to the edge (of pleasure or insanity, she isn't sure at this point).

Her noises are loud and shrill in the room, the sound dampened by the velvet walls and other equipment, her throat quickly straining under the constant stream of whines and wails and cries, as she spasms on the bench, not even registering how the woman holds her shoulders, fingernails seemingly digging into her skin through the fabric of her dress.

She is overwhelmed, more than that, is barely able to breathe, to function, to think. Everything is buzzing, humming, twitching, fireworks explode behind her eyelids, pain crashes through her, turning into waves of pleasure that pull her away, threatening to drown her. Amidst the inescapable bliss, she hears a different kind of humming, voices, soft, amused, maybe even mocking, not that she cares.

“Such a sensitive little pet.” bleeds into a deeper thrum of “Good girl.”, and the praise spirals her even higher until she fades away into unconsciousness, letting go completely.

ELEVEN 🟥 TWELVE 🟥 THIRTEEN

End notes: So I wanted to introduce a female character that could fuel our poor girl's jealousy, but then Mistress stepped into my head and dominated everything. That's just how it goes sometimes. She makes another appearance, but I'm not sure if I want to keep her, maybe in the next season? We'll see.

Also sorry for the confusion I'm sure I created by writing a scene with two unnamed females, I hope it came through who did what and wasn't too redundant either.

Thank you for reading!

Next chapter on Sunday!

TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290 @untamedheart81

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾ SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN

ELEVEN

#ao3 original work #dead dove do not eat #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #praise k!nk #free use kink #fem!dom #older man younger woman #size difference #modern au #joel miller smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #arthur morgan smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #mattheo riddle smut #original fiction

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sepublic · 3 days

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Hunter is NOT Luz’s brother, he’s not a Noceda, he’s not even that important to her compared to many other relationships Luz has and vice-versa. Like genuinely, go rewatch the show with this consideration in mind, cleanse the fanon for a fresh slate.

People just latched onto them as siblings because they found their Hunting Palismen dynamic funny, but also because they wanted to ward off Lunter. And they couldn’t articulate their dislike for Lunter as stemming from Luz’s longstanding dynamic with another female character being immediately replaced by fans for some white boy who just showed up, so they said they’re actually more siblings. It wasn’t an issue of biphobia it’s just people being tired of fandom thinking everything would be better if a woman was replaced by a guy. It’s the same reason Huntric also sucks because people replace a female character with some dude, it has nothing to do with bi/homophobia.

And FTR I hate Lunter, for the same reason I now hate the Luz & Hunter as Siblings take; It’s the fandom’s obsession with making Hunter more important than he actually is, to the point of replacing Luz’s actual important relationships with him. And hell even replacing Luz herself in her dynamics with her loved ones, because people portray Hunter as more Camila’s child than Luz when Darius is right there.

This fandom has a massive White Favoritism problem with Hunter, and he’s not even a female character he’s another White Boy, the most bland and milquetoast choice to raise as the fandom darling. He’s not THAT interesting and while him and Luz have their parallels and shared trauma and are still friends, what about Hunter and Gus? Or Luz and King, the latter explicitly calls Luz his sister but Hunter sure as hell didn’t! What about explicit on-screen dynamics huh???

ISTFG this fandom is overrun by Hunter content everywhere, he drowns out everyone except the literal main character and even she struggles sometimes! It’s because he’s a White Boy, that’s it. It’s not illegal to like Hunter, but you need to actually appreciate and engage with other characters accordingly instead of acting like that’s illegal. Hunter does the bare minimum and is lauded meanwhile everyone else goes above and beyond and is still overlooked for him.

Stop inserting him into everything we do not need Luz and Hunter angst we can just settle for Luz angst. She has other relationships and priorities you know and there’s so much more to this show than Hunter suffering. Sometimes you’ll even take Luz’s canon angst and give it to Hunter even! And try to make him more of a main character by inserting him into everything but he’s a side character.

So yes, your AU where Hunter is the main protagonist is racist. Especially if it doesn’t even explore Darius as his mentor, and has Eda take his place despite her barely interacting with him. And constantly praising Hunter for being a weird passionate nerd gets aggravating when Luz does the exact same thing but with greater emphasis, but gets ignored in favor of Hunter as she’s relegated to just Lumity.

And all of her additional depth and angst is just ignored for Hunter’s instead, sometimes they’ll even make up angst for him when other characters actually have it; I’ve seen popular fanart of a Luz moment where Hunter is in her place. Because fandom will sooner micro-analyze Hunter’s hands for nothing, than Luz going on a suicidal rant.

They’ll cradle Hunter’s trauma and suffering in their hands as a sacred and delicate subject, gnash at Darius for not being nice; But then sweep over Luz’s trauma and not realize how much certain things affected her, and why it’s fucked up to just ignore that in favor of bad AUs where Luz is a friend to Belos, who prompted a lot of her suicidal depression and scarred her face too.

They’ll insist Hunter should’ve been a bigger part of the finale and that Luz’s nightmare should’ve been her guilt for hurting him, as if it wasn’t already about Flapjack’s death and just her guilt towards ALL of her friends. So you know what, in addition to Hunter not even needing to kill Belos, I’m glad he wasn’t in that final battle and that the show reminded fandom who the actual main characters are (Luz, Eda, and King), which obviously pissed off a lotta people. Because it’s not like Hunter didn’t have major focus in the last two specials and S2B!!!!!!

#the owl house #the owl house hunter #toh #rant #vent

72 notes · View notes

angegiarratanawriter · 2 days

Text

Unplanned

Warnings: Smut, Intersex Character, Pregnancy

Word Count: 8292

Summary: A hook up after a night at the club has unexpected consequences

After a long shoot week at the Smosh office, some of the cast decides that you all deserve a night out. So, after wrapping on your final sketch on Friday, everyone heads out to Courtney’s favorite club in hopes of being able to let loose for the night. After all, you’ve all worked hard this week and could do with blowing off some steam.

As you walk into the club with Angela and Amanda by your side, you clench your jaw in anticipation. You’ve always liked going out with your friends, but a dive bar with karaoke is much more your scene than the loud music and flashing lights. The feeling of the bass pounding through your chest is already making your heart beat faster, and you readjust the collar of your crop top to give yourself some more room to breathe.

“Bar first?” Angela asks, looking at you and Amanda.

“Sure,” you reply.

“I could use a drink,” Amanda agrees.

You follow Angela up to the bar, where she opens a tab and orders all of you drinks. It’s a little bit surprising that she knows what you want before you do, but she’s always been attentive, and you have been going out together more since you moved in with her. When the bartender comes back with your martini, you take a sip and revel in the shiver that rolls down your spine at the taste.

“Good?” Angela asks, taking a sip of her rum and coke.

“One of the better ones I’ve had,” you say before taking another sip. “It’s a little strong, though.”

“Strong’s good,” Amanda nearly yells, having to raise her voice over the music.

“True.”

Before the conversation can take a turn in a different direction, you are being joined by a couple more of your castmates. Courtney and Shayne show up together, with Arasha and Chanse right behind them. They’re quick to get their own drinks, and then Amanda is ordering a round of shots to really get the party started. You take yours immediately, wanting to get to the other side of the nausea that hits after drinking tequila.

For now, everyone seems to content to stay at the bar, and that’s fine by you. You like dancing, but it’s always better when you’re already a little bit tipsy. When Courtney orders another round of shots, you realize that you’ll probably be there sooner rather than later, not that you really mind either way. This time it’s vodka, and it goes down a little bit smoother than the tequila did.

“Hey,” you hear an unfamiliar voice say from beside you.

You look up to find a girl with short dark hair and brown eyes looking at you with a coy smile on her face. If you’re honest, the smirk reminds you a little bit of Angela. That’s the only reason that you decide to actually talk to this girl. Usually you’d shoot people down when you’re out with your friends, but you’ve got a buzz going, and you realize that this is probably going to be one of those nights where all you think about is your feelings for your roommate.

“Hey,” you say, giving the girl a smile in return.

“I’m Ava. Can I buy you a drink?”

Before you have the chance to answer, you feel a strong arm come to wrap around your waist. You almost jump out of your skin at the contact, having not been expecting it. After taking a deep breath to regain your composure, you look up to find that it’s Angela who’s come to stand next to you. She’s glaring at the girl standing across from you, but as soon as she realizes she has your attention, she gives you hers.

“Hey, some of us are gonna go hit the dance floor,” Angela says. “You coming?”

“Uh, I-” You cut yourself off when you feel Angela’s hand squeeze at your waist, a clear indicator that you coming is not a debate. “Sure, yeah.”

With a sheepish smile in apology to the girl who had offered to buy you a drink, you follow your roommate out onto the dance floor. Chanse and Courtney are already there, and you can see Amanda and Arasha on their way back from what you guess is the bathroom. The only one missing is Shayne, but you find him closing out his tab when you glance back at the bar.

The song changes as you reach your friends, and you’re thrust into a throng of bodies dedicated to moving to the beat. You’re able to catch up quickly, moving your hips and throwing your arms in the air, just letting the bass settle deep inside your chest to guide you. The next hour is spent getting lost to the music and just enjoying being in the moment, something that you really haven’t gotten to do in a while. Maybe clubs are more fun than you thought.

As another, more sensual song starts blaring through the speakers, you feel a strong pair of hands grip your waist. A flash of short brown hair catches your eye, and you’re really hoping that the girl from the bar has come back to take another shot, because if it isn’t her, then that would mean that it’s Angela, and you don’t know if you could handle that.

Content to live in the fantasy for as long as you can, you press your hips back and start moving with the music again. The contact is intense, setting your whole body on fire and burning you from the inside out. The buzz that had been running through your veins for most of the night is starting to fizzle out, getting replaced by something else. Fuck, you’re gonna go home with this girl.

That though is only solidified when you grind back again and feel something hard pressing into your ass. You choke back a moan, your eyes closing and your head falling back against your dance partner’s shoulder. This ends up leaving you neck exposed, and it doesn’t take long for you to feel soft lips pressed against a patch of skin just below your ear. A moan does tumble out of your mouth this time, and you hear a soft chuckle that decidedly doesn’t come from bar girl.

“You’re so hot like this,” Angela murmurs in your ear, nipping it lightly. “Such a beautiful mess, and I haven’t even really started yet.”

“Oh, yeah?” you challenge, gasping when she pulls your hips back into hers. “What does ‘started’ look like?”

“Us finding a really dark corner in this place and you getting on your knees for me.”

“As much as I would love that, we really shouldn’t do this here.”

“You don’t have a choice, baby. You think I’m getting in a cab when I’m this hard?”

“Fuck, okay. Together or separate?”

“Together,” Angela answers, biting down roughly on your neck. “Everybody else is distracted, so we don’t have to worry about being seen.”

You nod and start to pull away, but Angela’s hands stay steady on your waist, not letting you move. The action is hot, you’ve always loved a display of strength, but it’s also confusing. Didn’t she just say she wanted to find somewhere more private? When you feel a hand trail in between your bodies and the shift of something hard against your ass, you realize exactly why she had kept you in place.

“What, don’t want anyone to see how turned on you are for me?” you tease.

“Trust me, baby, it has nothing to do with that,” Angela says, leaning closer to your ear. “I couldn’t care less if people saw just how desperate I am for you right now. I just don’t want to get caught before we have the chance to get going.”

“You make a good point. Let’s go.”

As you grab Angela’s hand, you pull her towards the back of the club and down the hallway that houses the bathrooms. You go past them, hoping that there’s some sort of storage closet or something that’s unlocked so that you’re not out in the open. After trying a couple of door knobs, you finally manage to find a room that’s open. You drag Angela inside and lock up behind you before turning on the light to find yourself in what seems to be an office.

“This is as good a place as any,” Angela says, walking behind the desk and leaning back against it. “Over here. On your knees.”

Never one to disobey, you quickly round the desk before moving to kneel for your roommate. Could she technically still be called your roommate after this? You have no idea, and don’t care to find out right now. Instead, you set your sights on the belt that is holding up her jeans and unbuckle it, pulling through the loops. As you toss it to the side, you look up to see her staring down at you with dark eyes.

Swallowing hard, you run your hand over Angela’s length, earning a sigh. You smile as you trail up higher, unbuttoning her jeans and then pulling down the zipper. The sight of her cock straining against her boxers has your eyes widening, and you pause for a minute, wanting to commit all of this to memory. Once you’re sure the image will have a hard time leaving your brain, you pull down her jeans and underwear and start to reach up.

“Wait,” Angela says, grabbing your wrist before you can touch her. “Are you sober enough to consent to this?”

“Yes.”

“And do you consent to this in general?”

“A thousand fucking percent,” you reply.

Angela searches your face for any signs of apprehension or uncertainty, and when she doesn’t find any, she releases your wrist. You smile up at her before moving your attention downwards, reaching out to wrap your fingers around her cock and stroking gently. She lets out a soft sigh, and you decide that your goal tonight is going to be to break her. You want to hear her moan your name.

Wanting to make that a reality as soon as possible, you lean in and lick a line all the way from the base of Angela’s cock all the way up, swirling your tongue around the tip. A hand comes to rest in your hair, encouraging you to keep going, so you do. You dip down and start to take her in your mouth, bobbing your head in a slow rhythm. With every bob, you take more of her until your nose is pressing against her stomach. You pause there for a second, looking up.

“Fuck,” Angela grunts. “So good for me. Can I chase it, baby?”

You do your best to nod, and Angela gets the message, because she immediately starts to rut her hips. The feeling of her cock hitting the back of your throat has you dripping, and you briefly consider shoving a hand down your pants just to get some relief before you feel the grip on your hair tighten. She’s close, and you want to focus on getting her there.

As you feel Angela start to tug at your hair, you hollow out your cheeks to create suction while using your tongue to trace the vein on the underside of her cock. You watch as her abs contract, the lines becoming more and more defined the closer to the edge she gets. It’s a beautiful sight to watch, but it doesn’t compare to her throwing her head back and biting down on a moan as she comes.

“Fuck,” Angela says as she comes down. “You-fuck.”

“That good, huh?” you tease as you tuck her cock back into her boxers.

“Better than. Come on, let’s get home so I can return the favor.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“If you think I’m not eating you out after that performance, you are sorely mistaken.”

Deciding not to argue against something you actually want, you stand up and wipe some of the stray spit from the corner of your mouth. Angela tracks the action with a dark gaze, but ends up shaking her head before moving to rezip and button her pants. You grab her belt and hand it to her, and she pulls it through the loops before buckling it in the front.

“Do I look presentable?” Angela asks.

“You’re fine,” you answer, running your fingers through your hair to smooth it out. “Am I good?”

“Yep. Ready to go?”

“For sure.”

Getting out of the office unseen is the easy part. The hard part is making it past your friends without them asking a million questions. Courtney had noticed your absence, but you’re able to play it off by saying that you’d been hugging the toilet in the bathroom for the last twenty minutes, with Angela there to comfort you. Your disheveled appearance helps sell that story, and soon enough you’re both on your way home in a cab.

The drive to your apartment building feels like it takes forever, and the elevator ride up to your floor is even worse. By the time you make it through your front door, you’re practically vibrating with impatience. Luckily for you, Angela is too, because as soon as you both have your shoes off, she lifts you up by the backs of your thighs and carries you down the hallway.

You find yourself being thrown onto her bed, and with in seconds, she’s crawling on top of you and pressing your lips together. Even with everything you’ve done tonight, you have actually kissed, so it takes you a little bit by surprise. It doesn’t take you long to recover, though, and soon you’re pushing back against her lips with equal fervor.

After a few minutes of exploring each other’s mouths, Angela moves down your jawline and then to your neck, kissing and sucking at the same spot she had at the club. Your hips jump at the feeling, and you feel her smirk against your skin before moving down to leave what is definitely going to be a mark on your collarbone. As she starts to move down to your chest, she tugs at the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

“Fuck yes,” you say, eagerly sitting up.

Angela smirks as she rips the shirt over your head, but the sight of your bare chest wipes it right off of her face. Apparently she hadn’t been ready for you not wearing a bra. She looks up at you with hunger in her eyes, and when you nod, she immediately leans down and takes a nipple in her mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

You arch your back so that Angela can get more of your breast in her mouth, and you moan as you feel her suck hard. A hand comes up to cup your other tit, massaging it gently, and your hips buck into her again. You manage to find some friction this time in the form of Angela’s leg between your thighs, so you start grinding into it, chasing some of the relief that you desperately need.

As Angela switches to lavish your other nipple with affections, you bring your hand up to pinch at the one she just left. This has a wave of heat washing down your spine, and you grind down harder now that the end goal is within reach. Before you can get there, though, strong hands push your hips down into the bed, elimination the friction that had been building you up.

“Baby,” you whine, reaching down to grab her hips and try to pull her flush against you.

“You’re not coming on my thigh,” Angela says as she starts to kiss down your body. “I have somewhere else in mind for that.”

With a wink, Angela undoes the button of your jeans with her teeth and then pulls the zipper down the same way. She makes quick work of pulling them off of your body, and you think she’s about to take your panties off too, but she stops short. When she looks up at you, you realize that she won’t go any farther without your consent.

“I know you said yes at the club, but I need to hear you say it now,” Angela says.

“Yes,” you reply, trying and failing to keep the whine out of your voice.

Consent now established, or re-established, Angela wraps her fingers in the hem of your panties and pulls them down slowly. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment as you feel them stick to you, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. In fact, you’re pretty sure you hear her let out a little hum of appreciation.

The first trace of Angela’s tongue against your slit has you crying out her name. You’re embarrassingly close already, but that only seems to spur her on as she draws circles around your clit before briefly moving down to your dripping entrance. She repeats the pattern over and over again, drawing moan after moan from your lips as you feel your core start to tighten.

“Ange, I’m-”

A burst of white hot pleasure explodes from your center, and you feel your entire body start to shake as your orgasm engulfs you. Angela works you down from it expertly, slowing her movements down before completely coming to a stop when you go slack against the bed. You feel start to trail kisses back up your body, and you open your eyes as you feel her breath fanning against your lips.

Embarrassingly, a full body shiver runs through you at the sight of Angela’s face. Her chin is covered in your wetness, and her perfect lips are a darker shade of pink than you’ve ever seen them. Before she has the chance to tease you about your reaction, you lean up and kiss her, moaning at the taste of yourself on her tongue.

“God, you’re so hot,” you murmur. “Fuck, do you have condoms?”

“What?” Angela says, pulling away in surprise.

“Condoms. Do you have them?”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to-”

“I don’t, just like you didn’t when you said you wanted to go down on me,” you say, cutting her off. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“I do,” Angela says quickly. “I really fucking do.”

“Then get naked, grab a condom, and come fuck me.”

Angela nearly falls off the bed as she scrambles to get up, but she manages to get her feet under her. She stands up and pulls her collared shirt over her head before undoing the clasp of her bra and letting it fall from her arms. You take a minute to admire the view, but quickly get distracted when Angela pulls off her pants and underwear. She goes into the side table and grabs a condom, ripping the packaging off and rolling it on before climbing back on top of you.

“Are you sure about this?” Angela asks softly, positioning herself between your legs.

“Yes.”

“Because we don’t have to do this. We can leave it here for tonight and talk in the morning, or-”

“Angela, just shut up and fuck me already.”

The desperation in your voice seems to get Angela to understand that you want this, and she lines herself up at your entrance before pushing in. You do your best not to tense up, taking deep breaths to keep your muscles relaxed as she presses more into you. As soon as your hips connect, you feel your walls clench around her cock.

“Fuck, this isn’t gonna last long,” Angela mumbles. “Feels so good.”

Before you have the chance to tell her that you don’t care how long she lasts, she rolls her hips into you. The friction is delicious, and you find your head falling back against the pillows as you let out a loud moan that seems like it bounces off every single wall in your apartment. God, your neighbors are gonna hate you.

As Angela starts to build a rhythm with her thrusts, she shifts her hips slightly on every stroke. You wonder what she’s doing, but then you feel the tip of her cock rub against your g-spot, and you suddenly can’t think anymore. She smirks at the little choking sound that escapes your lips, and then she’s picking up speed and pounding you into the mattress.

It doesn’t take long for Angela to have you worked up and on the brink of orgasm, but you hold it, not wanting to let go yet. You dig your fingertips into her sides to give yourself something to hold onto, and suddenly her hips are stuttering into you. Low grunts are falling from her lips on every thrust now, and her eyes are glazed over as she chases her high.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Angela moans. “I need-I need you to come. I can’t-”

“I’m there,” you whine.

Your walls convulse around Angela’s cock as you come, and your legs try to clamp shut, only to be held open by the girl in between them. A sharp moan escapes your lips, and you hear her say your name again, which only adds to the pleasure that is coursing through your veins. It takes a long time for you to come down, only really coming back to yourself when you feel soft kisses being peppered across your cheek.

“You okay?” Angela asks, resting her head in the crook of your neck.

“Yeah,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“We should probably get cleaned up and head to bed.”

When you nod in agreement, Angela carefully pulls out of you before peeling the condom off and tying it closed. She gets up and offers you a hand that you take gratefully, before you both head out of her room and down the hallway to the bathroom. After a quick clean up, she leaves you to use the bathroom. As you pee, you realize that you never heard her door shut, and take that as an invitation to rejoin her. That night, you fall asleep feeling safe and sound in her arms.

—

An alarm blaring yanks you out of your sleep, and you groan, rolling over to bury your face in the pillow. This is the third time this week that you’ve woken up feeling like shit, and it’s only Wednesday. Before you have the chance to wallow in how miserable you feel, there’s a knock on your door and it opens just a crack.

“Hey, time to get up,” Angela says softly. “We have to be at the studio in less than an hour, and I wanna stop for some coffee if that’s cool.”

“Sure,” you say, sitting up slowly to avoid making your nausea worse. “I’ll be ready to go in twenty.”

Angela nods and closes the door, leaving you to start your day. Things between you two have been a little bit different ever since you hooked up. She’s been distant, but honestly, so have you. It’s like neither of you know how to walk back the line that you crossed that night a few weeks ago, and now you’re both just trying to learn how to live in the awkwardness.

Sighing, you climb out of bed and are immediately hit with a wave of nausea. Like the last two mornings, you sprint across the hall to the bathroom, closing the door and turning on the faucet so that Angela doesn’t hear you throwing up. After a minute of just sitting in front of the toilet, you get up and flush before starting to get ready.

You brush your teeth and take a quick shower, then head back to your room to get dressed. Buttoning your jeans takes a little extra effort this morning, but you chalk it up to bloating. Once you’re dressed, you put on some light makeup and grab your bag before heading out to the living room. Angela is waiting for you there, and as soon as she sees you come in, she stands up.

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” you reply, heading to the door.

The elevator ride down to the parking garage brings on another wave of nausea, but you manage to dispel it by the time you climb into Angela’s car. The drive to the nearest coffee shop only takes five minutes, and then you’re heading off to the studio. When you get there, you head inside to find Amanda and Courtney chatting with Arasha in the main office.

“Yeah, I feel so much better,” Courtney says. “That cold was awful. I’m just glad my period was ending when I caught it.”

That statement makes you stop dead in your tracks. Wait a minute. Courtney’s period was ending? No, that couldn’t be right. Could it? If it was, that means yours was late. Like, extremely late. You guys weren’t perfectly synced, but you would have for sure started your period a few days before she did, as happens every month. A sinking feeling hits you in the pit of your stomach as you realize what this could mean.

“Hey, are you okay?” Angela asks from beside you. “You just got really pale.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say. “I-I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

Without waiting for Angela to respond, you practically run down the hall and into the single person bathroom. You shut and lock the door behind you then walk over to the sink, turning the water on cold and splashing your face with it. The coolness does nothing to dispel the rising feeling of dread in your stomach, and you find yourself rushing to the toilet for the second time today.

After taking a minute to regain your composure, you take your spare toothbrush and toothpaste out of the bag and start brushing. All the while, you think about what’s going to happen now. You’re pregnant, you have to be. Your period is is a week and a half late and you’ve been waking up nauseous every morning for the last couple days. There’s no other logical explanation, right?

Knowing that there’s nothing you can do right now, you squash down your panic and resolve to go to the drugstore at lunch. Then you’ll be able to get a test and confirm that you actually are pregnant before you start really freaking out. With a sigh, you spit the toothpaste into the sink and rinse your mouth before putting everything away and walking back out to the office.

“There you are,” Amanda says, smiling as you walk over to the group that has formed. “We saw you come in, but then you disappeared.”

“I just had to use the bathroom,” you say, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “Are you ready for the shoots today?”

“God yes. I’ve been dying to play Gentleman’s Moose Master again.”

“The last one absolutely killed me,” Courtney agrees. “I can’t wait to see what we’ve got this time.”

“Yeah, that’ll be a good video,” you agree.

“What about you?” Amanda asks. “You’re filming a reaction video for Pit, right?”

“I am. God, I hope they don’t do me too dirty. Tommy got Angela good on the last one, I had to deal with her pouting for days after filming.”

“Hey, it was not that bad,” Angela protests with a pout.

“Oh, it was that bad,” Chanse chimes in. “You were grumpy for two days, and that was just what I saw here. I can’t imagine what you were like at home.”

“Mopey,” you say cheekily.

“Whatever,” Angela mutters, though you know she’s not actually feeling put out. “Let’s go, we’ve got to start getting ready.”

With that, the brunette turns around and starts walking in the direction of the art department. Shayne, Courtney, Amanda, and Trevor follow her, leaving you with the a few of your other castmates. You turn around to find Chanse looking at you with an eyebrow raised, but before you can say anything, Erin comes over and starts herding you to the stage you’re going to be shooting on today.

While you’d had a brief reprieve from your thoughts while you had been joking around with the rest of the cast, as soon as you sit down at the table on set, they all come rushing back in. You spend almost the entire shoot pretending to pay attention to the screen in front of you, but in reality, you’re a million miles away. When they call the final cut on the video, you let out a little sigh of relief and stand up, ready to move on to the next thing.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chanse asks as you walk back out to the main office. “You seem…off. I don’t really know how to explain it. And Angela has been pouting for weeks. Did something happen?”

“Yeah,” you say, sighing heavily as tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes. “It’s a long story, but I think I really fucked up and now I don’t know what to do.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Can you cover for me at lunch? I need to pick something up, but Angela can’t know about it.”

“Of course,” Chanse says softly. “I know this might be overstepping, but do you want someone to go with you?”

“Maybe,” you say, biting your lip as you think it through. “Yes. But then who’s gonna cover for us?”

“I’ll talk to Amanda, she won’t ask questions if she thinks I’m taking you out to lunch so that I can gush about the guy I hooked up with last weekend.”

“Okay, yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course. Now come on, we just have to get through an hour long shoot before we can go do whatever you need.”

You nod your head and follow him off the stage and back into the main office, where you find Ian and Anthony setting up for the sketch shoot. Most of it has already been filmed, but the final part got delayed due to some technical difficulties the other day so the final scene had been squeezed into today’s schedule.

This shoot goes a lot better than the last, with you being able to turn on your actor’s brain and set everything else on the back burner. It ends up running a little bit long, but that just means that lunch will be pushed back a bit. Not a complete travesty in the grand scheme of things. When the shoot ends, you walk off towards the kitchen to get Chanse, and you find him talking to Amanda.

“Wait, why are you going out for lunch?”

“Because I need to talk to her about something,” Chanse replies. “I hooked up with a guy this weekend, and I need adv-”

“Nope, stop,” Amanda says, holding her hand up. “I don’t wanna know. I’ll tell Ange that you guys went out.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey,” you say, stepping into the kitchen. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Chanse says, walking towards you. “Let me just grab my keys.”

With a little nod, you turn and head back out towards the bullpen. You stop off at Chanse’s desk to grab his keys, and then you head out to the parking lot. He opens the door of his pick up truck for you and helps you in before going walking around the vehicle and hopping into the driver’s seat. He doesn’t start the engine though, just looks over at you with a soft expression.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“I-I slept with Angela,” you whisper, looking down at your hands. “A few weeks ago. We were drunk and it just kind of happened, but things have been weird ever since. I think she thinks it was a mistake.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“No, I…I don’t know how to. I mean, how do I tell her that I…”

“Do you have feelings for her?” Chanse asks softly.

“I do. But now everything is weird and complicated, and I-”

“Why are things complicated? You slept together, that wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t feel something too.”

“Because I think…I think I’m pregnant.”

Chanse just sits there for a moment in stunned silence, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. You want him to say something, anything, even if he just calls you a fucking idiot for letting this happen. But you know he would never do that, he’s too kind and compassionate to have that kind of a response. Instead, he just puts the key into the ignition and turns it, then starts backing out of the parking spot.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To the pharmacy,” Chanse answers. “We’ll pick up a test, and you’ll take it. If it’s positive, then we can start to panic.”

“Yeah, right. Okay.”

The drive to the nearest drug store only takes five minutes, and soon you find yourself in the family planning aisle. Chanse stays by your side, offering silent support as you look at the pregnancy tests. Eventually you grab two Clearblues, then you head up to the front of the store and check out. With the tests now in hand, you’re tempted to just take them here, but you know that a CVS bathroom probably isn’t the best place to find out that you’re pregnant.

When you get back to the Smosh studio, Chanse takes you down a side hall that avoids the eating area before opening the door to the women’s bathroom for you. You swallow hard, but he gives you a look of encouragement, so you head inside and go into the first stall. After reading the directions, you pee on the sticks and then flush the toilet before heading out of the stall. You put the tests on a paper towel on the counter and then wash your hands.

After setting a timer on your phone for five minutes, you poke your head out of the bathroom. Chanse looks up at you, and when you nod your head back inside, he pushes himself off the wall and follows you in. For the next few minutes, you sit in silence, waiting for the alarm to go off with a pit of dread in your stomach. When it does, you take a deep breath and walk back to the counter, flipping over the tests.

“Positive,” you choke out, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks. “Both of them.”

“Fuck,” Chanse breathes out, walking over to wrap his arms around you. “It’s gonna be okay. You’ll figure this out.”

“I don’t-I didn’t-”

“I know. I know.”

“Nobody else can find out,” you say, sniffling. “Not before I talk to her.”

“They won’t.”

As if he knows exactly what to do, Chanse grabs a paper towel from the dispenser and wraps one of he tests up before putting it into your backpack. He then wraps the other one up and buries it, making sure that nobody will find it unless they’re looking for it. When he’s done, he turns to you and wraps you in one last hug.

“Everything’s going to be okay, I promise,” Chanse says.

“Thank you,” you whisper back. “Now I just have to figure out how to get through the rest of my day.”

With a sigh, you pull out of his arms and you both head to your next shoot. You spend most of it trying not to throw up, the confirmation of your pregnancy bringing back your nausea in full force. You notice Amanda watching you, a concerned look on her face, but before she can say something, Chanse stops her with a shake of his head and a few hushed words. If he hadn’t promised to keep your secret, you would have been concerned that he had told her.

When you’re finished shooting the short sketch with Chanse and Amanda, it’s time for you to get ready for your last video of the day. At this point, not having had lunch is starting to catch up to you, but there’s no time to find something to eat. You struggle to push away the brain fog that’s come down heavy in the past couple of minutes, and you manage to fight it back far enough that you can at the very least function.

As you walk onto the Reddit Stories set, you see Shayne and Angela talking over by the couch. They both look up when you come in, and he says one last thing to her before nodding in your direction. You watch her take a deep breath as she starts walking over to you, her hands fiddling nervously with the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

“Hey,” Angela says quietly. “You weren’t at lunch.”

“Yeah, I went out with Chanse,” you reply, looking down. “He wanted to talk about some stuff that happened over the weekend.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’m sure he would’ve asked you to go if he actually needed advice, but he kinda just wanted to gush, so…”

“That’s not-” Angela cuts herself off, biting her bottom lip. “Are we okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just…things have been different since…you know. And I didn’t expect them not to be, but this feels…I don’t know. Like you’re mad at me?”

“Ange, I-”

“Did I make you uncomfortable? Do something you didn’t want?”

“Of course not,” you say immediately, not wanting her to think that she did anything wrong. “I’ve just had a lot to think about, and then today…”

“Today what?”

“I’ve just been feeling off, okay? It has nothing to do with anything that you did. I promise.”

Angela looks unconvinced, but she nods her head before walking over to the couch and taking a seat. You sigh and follow her over, plopping down and grabbing a pillow to wrap your arms around. Courtney does a few final checks with the crew, and they you start rolling. Shayne goes through the intro and introduces the theme, which happens to be ‘Am I The Asshole’ stories centered around roommates.

Listening to the stories is hard at first, but after two you manage to zone in and start actually giving your opinions on them. Engaging in the conversation seems to make the time go faster, and pretty soon, the episode is wrapping up. As Shayne does the typical sign off, you watch Chanse slip in through the stage door behind the cameras. He doesn’t seem to be here for you though, walking over to Erin and asking her a question.

When Courtney announces the final cut, you sigh in relief. As you go to stand up, your vision goes black and your legs buckle a little bit underneath you. Reaching out to steady yourself on the couch, you sit back down to try to regain your bearings. You hear Angela’s voice come from next to you, but it sounds really far away.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“What’s going on?” Chanse says, walking over from behind the camera.

“Dizzy,” you manage to stutter out, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“You literally took her out for lunch,” Angela says, sounding annoyed.

“Last night,” you say quietly. “I was too nauseous to eat this morning.”

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” Chanse says. “I’m going to go grab you something from the kitchen, and Angela is going to take you to Ian’s office so that you can lay down on his couch. Alright?”

You nod, blinking your eyes open to shoot your friend a grateful look. He returns the gesture, then gets up and heads out towards the main office, leaving you alone with Angela. You look up at her slowly, and find that she already has her eyes on you, a concerned expression on her face. Before you have the chance to say anything, though, she helps you to your feet and starts leading you to Ian’s office.

“What’s going on with you?” Angela asks as soon as you’re inside, her jaw clenching.

“It’s nothing,” you say, hoping that denial will buy you a little bit of time.

“Don’t do that. First you lie about lunch, and then I find out that you were nauseous this morning and didn’t tell me. Seriously, Y/N. Tell me what’s going on.”

“This isn’t the right place to have this conversation-”

“The hell it isn’t,” Angela says angrily. “Look, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong-”

“I’m pregnant.”

That stops Angela in her tracks. Her eyes go wide, and then they trail down to your stomach before moving back up to your face. She almost looks like she doesn’t believe you, so you reach into your backpack and pull out the positive test. You unwrap it and hand it to her, but it only seems to make her freeze more.

“Say something,” you beg.

“I-”

Angela stutters and looks from you to the test and back up again, but she never actually says anything. You give her a minute to start to wrap her head around things, but the longer she stays quiet, the more your chest begins to ache. When she looks up at you again, you think that she’s finally about to say something, but she doesn’t. She just stares at you, her jaw clenched.

“Right,” you say, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I, uhm, I think I’m going to stay somewhere else tonight.”

You turn on your heels and walk out of the office, heading towards the kitchen at a brisk pace. Tears are falling freely down your cheeks now, and your vision is blurred enough that you almost smack into someone on your way down the hall. It takes strong hands on your shoulders to get you to focus, and you look up to see Chanse standing in front of you.

“What happened?”

“I told her,” you say quietly. “She, uh, she didn’t…”

Thinking about the way she looked at you is the clincher, and you collapse into Chanse’s arms, sobbing. He wraps his arms tightly around you, allowing you to let it out. By the time you manage to get yourself together, the shoulder of his shirt is drenched and you’re somehow in a closet instead of the hallway that this conversation started in. You have no idea how he moved you to somewhere more private, but you’re glad he did.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” you ask, sounding small.

“Of course. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

For the second time today, you find yourself being led outside and helped into Chanse’s truck. You rest your head against the window as soon as he closes the door, and you watch the greenery that surrounds the studio thin out as you head back into the city. It doesn’t take long to arrive at his building, and soon you’re seated at his kitchen island, watching him cook.

“How are you doing?” Chanse asks, setting a plate of stir fry down in front of you.

“I’ve been better,” you reply honestly. “I mean, I didn’t expect her to be over the moon about this, but she could have at least said something.”

“She didn’t say anything?”

“Nope. Just stood there like a statue and stared at me.”

“Maybe she’s just processing.”

“I hope so. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“Hey,” Chanse says softly, walking around the island to take a seat next to you. “You won’t be doing this alone. If she isn’t there, I will be. I know it’s not the same, but…”

“Thank you,” you say, smiling at him softly.

Before Chanse can say anything in response, his phone starts buzzing on the kitchen counter. He gives you an apologetic look before getting up and going to grab it. As he picks it up, he looks at the screen and frowns. He taps something and puts the phone back down, but it immediately starts buzzing again, so he sighs and answers it.

“Amanda, what’s up?”

“Do you want to tell me why Angela just called me in a panic, looking for Y/N?”

“No, not really,” Chanse says, putting the phone on speaker.

“Well, have you seen her?” Amanda asks. “Because I think our girl is going to have a panic attack if she doesn’t find her in the next five minutes.”

“It would serve her right. And she is definitely not my girl right now.”

“Oh my God, you’re mad at her. You’re never mad at her. What did she do?”

“It’s not my story to tell.”

“It’s fine, she’s gonna find out anyways,” you say, sighing.

“Wait, is Y/N with you?”

“She is,” Chanse says.

“So she’s not going home? What the fuck happened?”

“I’m pregnant,” you say quietly. “It’s Angela’s.”

“WHAT?” Amanda practically yells into the phone. “How? When? Does she know? Sorry, dumb question. She wouldn’t be panicking right now if she didn’t. But wait, why are you with Chanse?”

“Your girl froze,” Chanse says. “Y/N told her, and she just stood there.”

“Fucking idiot. I’m going to kill her.”

Before either you or Chanse has the chance to say anything back, there’s a knock on the door. You exchange a look with each other, but ultimately decide that whoever it is can go the fuck away. As you turn your attention back to the phone and Amanda, another series of knocks sound from the door, this time with a voice accompanying them.

“Chanse, I know Y/N is with you,” Angela calls out. “Open the door.”

“Is she at the door?” Amanda asks.

“Yeah,” Chanse says, walking around the island with his phone in his hand. “Look, I have to let you go. I’ll call you later, yeah?” Without waiting for an answer, he hangs up and turns towards you. “What do you want to do? Do you want to see her?”

“Not really, but I should,” you say. “We need to talk about this eventually.”

“That doesn’t mean it has to be tonight.”

“I know, but it should be. Let her in.”

Chanse nods and then heads to the front door. He pauses with his hand on the knob, looking back to give you one last chance to change your mind. When you don’t, he takes a deep breath and opens the door. He’s immediately shoved back, and you watch Angela walk into the apartment, her eyes scanning the room until find you. As she starts to walk over to you, you climb off of the stool you’re sitting on and wrap your arms around yourself.

“Hey,” you say quietly.

“Hey,” Angela says, visibly softening at the sound of your voice. “Can we talk?”

“We probably should.”

“Chanse, do you mind giving us a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Chanse replies, before walking over to you and giving your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me.”

“Okay.”

With a soft smile to you and a glare to Angela, Chanse heads down the hallway and into his room. As soon as you hear the door click shut, you turn back to the girl standing in front of you. She’s looking at your stomach, a mix of wonder and uncertainty clouding her eyes. When she notices you watching her, she clears her throat and straightens up.

“So you’re really pregnant?” Angela asks quietly.

“Yes,” you reply softly.

“When did you find out?”

“Today. I…I heard Courtney talking about coming off of her period when we came in this morning, and I realized I was late. Chanse took me to the pharmacy during our lunch break, and I took a couple of tests. They came back positive.”

“Okay,” Angela says, taking a deep breath. “Okay. So, uhm, I know you probably have a lot that you want to say to me after what happened at the studio, but can I go first?” You nod your head, and Angela lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay. First, I want to say that I’m so sorry for how I reacted. Never in a million years did I think our conversation was heading in that direction, but that’s no excuse.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“I don’t forgive me, but I appreciate it. The second thing that I wanted to say is, I’m in. I want to be a part of this, with you. In whatever way you want me. But before you decide on that, you should know that I’ve been helplessly in love with you for the last six months.”

“What?”

“I’m in love with you,” Angela repeats, taking a step closer to you. “I love the way you make everyone around you smile, the way you care so deeply about all of our friends, the way you can make me laugh even when I’m having a bad day. I love your smile, and your laugh, and that little crease on your forehead that is only visible when you’re concentrating really, really hard. And so help me God, I love the way that you taste, the way you moan my name, the way you make me feel like I’m burning up from the inside out.”

“Ange,” you say quietly, tears welling in your eyes for the hundredth time today.

“I love you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. Please, just give me a chance to show you that.”

“Only if you give me the chance to show you right back.”

“Deal.”

Not wanting to spend another second out of Angela’s arms, you close the distance between you and pull her into a passionate kiss. She responds immediately, sinking into the embrace and letting her body melt into yours. It just feels right, and you realize that no matter what happens next, you’ll always have Angela.

#angela giarratana #angela giarratana x reader #smut #intersex #pregnancy

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