I Normally Don't Entirely Enjoy Omegaverse Stuff But This...you May Have Just Converted Me. WHEW I AM

i normally don't entirely enjoy omegaverse stuff but this...you may have just converted me. WHEW I AM SWEATING🥵

semi-human nature {alpha!aemond targaryen x omega!reader x alpha!daemon targaryen}

{summary} a visit to king's landing goes awry when you go into your first heat— unaware not only that you are an omega, but also that your uncle and stepfather are alphas.

{word count} 6.7k

{warnings} smut (a/b/o standards like heat, breeding, knotting, all that good stuff; kinda dubcon because the reader doesn't totally understand what's happening at first), incest and stepcest (the reader is rhaenyra's daughter making her daemon's stepdaughter and aemond's niece), virginity loss, kinda painful sex/pain kink near the end, threesome, oral m receiving, spitroast, discussions of pregnancy, infidelity (daemon is married to rhaenyra), basically no plot just filthiness

Your visits to King's Landing were far too rare for your tastes.  You didn't mind that Dragonstone was your home, it was beautiful there and you and your brothers found plenty to do and see— but you missed the old castle at times, missed the adventure and mystery there.  Most of all, you missed your extended family.  Though, really, you only missed some very specific members of it.

Firstly, you missed your Aunt Helaena, because she'd always been kind to you and taught you some things when you were a girl— like how to braid hair and how to play her flute (but you were never very good at either).  Secondly, and much more, you missed your Uncle Aemond.  As cunning and cold as he could be to others, he tended to be sweet with you, as long as you could remember.  The older you both got, the more you started to feel more than a friendly, or familial, connection with him— your girlish daydreams sometimes drifted to what it would be like if you married him someday, but you figured that would never happen with the growing animosity between your family and his.  Still, when he smiled at you, or when he kissed your head the tender way he did, you couldn't help but hope he felt as you did.

But you loved your family here, of course— your mother was sweet to you, as her only daughter, and your stepfather Daemon loved you as his own.  (Some cast a suspicious eye at the two of you, thinking maybe he loved you more than his own… but he was just affectionate, that’s all.)

In fact, he was being characteristically tender with you as you approached King’s Landing, rubbing your arm reassuringly until you smiled up at him.  “I’m sure you’re the happiest of any of us to be here,” he told you with a smirk.

“You aren’t happy to see your brother?” you pressed, but he never answered.  Your conversation was interrupted by the end of the journey being reached; they were waiting in the courtyard for you, and even though there was a tension in the air between everyone, you couldn’t help but smile shyly at Aemond.  He looked back at you, the smallest curl growing on his lips, and your heart fluttered.

For now, you had to behave calmly and politely.  But as soon as dinner preparations had begun and everyone had separated to manage individual matters, you ran through the castle to find Aemond in his chambers— and flung yourself into his arms with a squeal of delight.

He hugged you in return, though he tried to soothe you as he laughed softly at your excitement.  “It hasn’t been so long, has it, niece?” he asked with a smirk— so smug about the way you clearly had missed him.

“You missed me too, didn’t you?” you sighed, pulling back to look up at his face; he wore the softest smile for you— his one eye sparkled brighter than the sapphire when he looked at you, you swore it, and you were glad you caught him without his patch to hide behind.

“Of course, sweet girl,” he promised.  “My— you’ve grown, haven’t you?  Weren’t you a little girl last you visited?  And now I’ve got a woman in my arms.”

You flushed with warmth in your face and chest when he spoke like that— you felt most like a woman in his arms, anyway, even though your stepfather had commented more than once as well on your development as of late.  “You act like I’m so much younger than you, Aemond,” you mumbled shyly.  Somehow, you felt most like a woman when he held you; and, even more strangely, most like that little girl he remembered when he looked at you like that.

The embrace was cut short when you felt that dizzy feeling again, your eyes blinking quickly and the heat of your flush growing almost unbearable for a moment.  “Are you alright?” he asked, seeing your dazed reaction. 

“Y-yes, I’m— this happens,” you mumbled, trying to find your balance again as he stepped forward to keep you from falling.  “Fainting spells— w-well, except I don’t faint… I just feel strange.”

He narrowed his eye, looking you up and down.  “Strange?”

“Hot,” you whispered, throat a little dry— suddenly you could smell him, and he smelled perfect: it reminded you of snow-covered pine, icy and sturdy just like him.  Why couldn’t you smell that before?

He pressed his hand to your forehead, and you bit your lip to keep from whimpering.  The heat just seemed to spread all over you, and your head spun as your knees went a little weak.  “How long has this been going on?  Do your parents know?” he asked quickly.

You struggled to keep your thoughts in order enough to answer, a cramp hitting your gut all of a sudden— that had happened before, too, but the episodes never lasted this long before… which was why you hadn’t told your parents, it didn’t seem notable at the time.  Now, of course, as pain twisted inside you, you regretted that.  “J-just… just a few…” you tried to respond, but then you couldn’t even remember how many days it had been.  All you could remember was this moment, and you reached up to clutch at his shoulders.  You swore you heard him growl as he pulled you into him, and the noise made a shiver run through your body.

“I think you may be— fuck,” he interrupted himself, and you felt his nose brush against the side of your face as he breathed in deeply beside your neck.  You were so soothed by his touch that you didn’t even really consider how bizarre it was that he buried his face there, smelling and tasting your skin.  “You’re presenting— poor thing, it hurts, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t know what that meant, but yes, it hurt; you whined as you nodded, making weak fists that tugged on his leather tunic.  

“I can help you,” he promised, “I can take that pain away.”

“Uncle,” you whimpered, “please— help me, please, I don’t understand what’s hap—”

“Shh, sweet girl,” he cooed softly, “you’ll be alright— it’s all well, I’m here now… I’ll help you, omega.”

Your eyebrows knitted— you weren’t sure you heard him right… omega?  Maybe it was a Valyrian word you hadn’t heard before?  You’d always daydreamed during your lessons as a child, and you certainly were less fluent than your uncle Aemond.

“All you have to do is as you’re told,” he instructed.  “Do what I say and I’ll take care of you.”

“Please,” you whined again, another cramp in your core hitting— and with it, a heat between your legs that you realised with distant shame was wetness flooding you.  He took a deep breath in and groaned, suddenly pulling you with him across the room.  You didn’t realise he was taking you to the bed until you felt it under your back.

“I can help you,” he said again, kissing all over your flushed face as you clutched at him desperately.  His hands started to slide up under your dress and pet your legs which spread wide for him instinctively, your hips shaking as more slick leaked from your opening.  “Your Alpha’s here, my darling…”

Before you could even consider asking what any of this meant— you were so needy, you might just let it all happen regardless— Daemon burst in the room.

“Fuck,” he blurted out when he saw you writhing on the bed while Aemond touched you.  “Is she really—?  I can smell her from across the courtyard, fuck, so sweet…”  

“Leave us, Uncle,” Aemond ordered instantly, “she’s mine.”

“She’s my daughter, I should be the one to help her,” Daemon sneered.  He crossed the room and approached the bed as Aemond held you tighter, defensively.

“She’s not your daughter,” Aemond scoffed, “she’s your wife’s bastard— and she’ll be my omega.”

Daemon shoved his nephew off of you with a growl, making you whimper.  “Please— please…” was all you could say.  You weren’t even sure what that sentence would be if you had the ability to finish: please don’t fight, perhaps, or please touch me.

“I should claim her,” Daemon insisted, descending on you next with a sweet purr.  “Don’t you want Papa to help you now?”

You whined in confusion, one hand shakily reaching up to hold onto your stepfather’s shoulder— but the other found Aemond’s hand and squeezed it tightly.  “Let her decide,” Aemond decided, knowing you were so affectionate for him— Daemon might agree to that measure, thinking you would choose your stepfather first, if he thought you understood what was being asked of you.

“She can’t decide now,” Daemon hissed, “she’s presenting, she’s delirious— and she doesn’t even know what she is!”

“She doesn’t—?!” Aemond repeated, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between you two.  “You never taught her?  You never told her—!”

“We didn’t know!” Daemon defended.  “We thought— everyone thought Rhaenyra would be an omega, as pure as she is, but she never presented… we just assumed—”

“How deprived you were, niece,” Aemond cooed at you, stroking your arm.  “Your mother never taught you about us— about how special our family really is, that you might be—”

“What am I?” you whimpered, shaking, looking up at your uncle with teary eyes.  He held your face and pet your cheek gently, but there was a rageful hunger in his eye like you’d never seen.

“You’re mine,” he answered.

“Ours,” Daemon corrected.  “She’ll belong to both of us.”

Even though you still barely had any idea what was going on, you knew how dangerous of a proposition that was.  Neither your uncle nor stepfather were ones for sharing…

Though he snarled in chagrin, Aemond was nodding as he pulled you into him again.  “We’ll both help you, all right?” he prompted you quietly.  “Your stepfather and I— we can both help you.  You just have to do as you’re told…”

“Please,” you repeated weakly; you were carried to the bed and all but thrown onto it, a moment later feeling Daemon’s hands help undress you right away.

“I want her first,” Aemond informed Daemon firmly.

“You know how long I’ve waited for this, boy?” Daemon snapped, making his nephew laugh coldly.

“What a naughty Papa you are,” he smirked.  “Will your wife approve of you fucking her daughter?”

“Wh-what?!” you choked.  “What… what will you do to me?”

Daemon growled in the back of his throat as your dress was torn away, and you felt two pairs of hands run all over your bare skin as Aemond pulled you to lay on him.  “As your uncle told you,” Daemon answered, “we’ll help you.”

Did they have to be so fucking cryptic all the time?!

“I’m having her first,” Aemond insisted again, “I found her first.  You’ll have your turn.”

He helped you to straddle his lap, reaching down to quickly free himself from his trousers with a sigh; your legs were shaking already, and you jolted when you felt him press his cock up to your opening.  “U-Uncle,” you whimpered, “are you— will we really—?”

“Haven’t you wanted this, sweet girl?” Aemond whispered in your ear.  “Don’t you want me to fill you?”

Though you whined before you let yourself admit it, you nodded.  “Yes,” you choked, “yes— I wanted this.”

Aemond gave his uncle a little smirk, admiring the look on Daemon’s face— some impossible, forbidden mix of a jealous lover and a disapproving father.  Apparently, he thought his stepdaughter was more loyal, and wouldn’t fall for her uncle sat so firmly on the other side of political lines.  But love is funny like that— especially where Targaryens are involved.

“Call me your Alpha,” Aemond instructed in a low groan by your ear, struggling to resist his instinct to simply take you without any more delay— he’d been fighting his desire the second he first smelled you, not wanting to rush it too much, but both men were overcome with the need to be inside you as you shuddered and whimpered.  

“Alpha,” you whispered back, feeling a pull to obey much more than usual when he spoke to you this way.  “My Alpha…”

He pulled your hips down, sliding his cock inside you all at once.  His head fell back as your hips rested on his; you cried loudly, feeling a sharp stretch— but more than pain, much more, there was pleasure, relief, and satisfaction.  You went totally limp in his arms and let him guide you to grind your hips just as he liked; “Fuck,” he panted, “you’re even more perfect than I ever— ah— ever imagined, dear niece— sweet omega…”

“Uncle,” you sobbed, clinging onto him tightly.  He was right— the pain had gone, for the most part, now all you had was this need for more… for everything.  Even though you were so weak and helpless, you found yourself able to move on top of him, bouncing up and down in his lap to find some more of that impossibly-perfect friction; he watched you with pride and lust in his smile.  “Aemond, it feels— oh…”

“It feels right,” he finished for you, “doesn’t it?”

You nodded in agreement, shivering when you realised the fingers ghosting up and down your spine were your stepfather’s.  “How does she feel?” he asked in a rough voice that would’ve been terrifying if you didn’t trust him completely.

“Hot,” Aemond answered quickly.  “So hot inside— she really is a dragon.”

They both laughed a little, though it wasn’t because it was funny— it was a specific emotion you’d never seen on either of them until now.  Daemon leaned in and kissed the back of your neck, making you gasp and whine and lean back into his arms as you kept riding Aemond dutifully; Aemond hissed slightly, digging his fingers into your hips. 

“She… she tensed up on me when you kissed her there,” Aemond said with a gasp.  “Fuck— I didn’t know she could get any tighter…”

“Beautiful,” Daemon praised you in a mumble against your skin, fingers now exploring more as he lightly tickled your sides and teased your breasts.  “Are you being good for him, omega?  Taking care of your uncle as you should?”

You gasped and nodded, eyes heavy and wet.  “Yes— yes, Papa…”

He hummed deeply, properly groping your chest now as he licked your neck, even nipping at it with his teeth to make you tighten inside again and again.  “F-fuck,” Aemond choked, “I won’t— I can’t take much more of that, she’s so— she’s perfect, you can’t imagine how perfect—”

“I don’t have to,” Daemon growled, pulling you off of Aemond who whimpered and begged to have you back— but the older man was well past the limit of his patience, snarling as he positioned you onto your hands and knees.  He held your shoulder to keep you steady, hard cock flexing at the way you hung your head in submission and turned just enough to look back at him innocently over your shoulder.  He smiled as you as he gripped himself inside his trousers, silently praying for the patience not to tear you open as soon as he could.  Yes, you were his omega, and his stepdaughter— his property in more ways than one— but he would prefer not to hurt you, and his instincts were fighting against his logical mind in that regard.

When he exposed himself, he saw you trying to look— trying to see if your Papa’s cock would break you, and he just chuckled slightly to himself.

“You’ll be able to take it,” he promised roughly, “you’re made to take it.”

He lined himself up, knocking your knees further apart with his own before plunging inside with a long sigh.  You cried again but pushed back against him, too; your hands still clung weakly onto your uncle, who soothed you and kissed your tears away encouragingly.

“You were right,” Daemon sighed, electing to just hold you still and stay buried as deep as he could go for a moment.  “She’s— fuck.”

Aemond took one of your hands from his shoulder and guided it down to his cock, still soaked from your slick; he guided you to stroke it with your shaking fingers, whispering filthy praises in your ear while Daemon fucked you slowly (at first).  “You have to take care of both of us,” your uncle reminded you.  “Gods, you smell so sweet… I could smell you from across the hall, that’s how I found you— I knew you needed me, needed an Alpha to breed you.”

“I… I don’t understand…” you mumbled, gasping as your stepfather picked up his pace and fucked you more roughly.

“We should tell her now,” Daemon decided.  “Well, you should— I’m quite busy already— fuck, so tight…”

“Would you like me to tell you everything, sweet girl?” Aemond asked you, tightening your grip on his cock when you nodded.  “Just keep— keep stroking me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “anything…”

“Our family is very special,” Aemond explained to you— which you already knew, but clearly there was more to it than you were taught.  “There’s a reason we keep to our own, protect our bloodline: some of us are… gifted.  Like your stepfather and I.”

“Like you,” Daemon added, though he was struggling to focus on any conversation as he used you.

“I always knew you were meant for more, my lovely niece,” Aemond cooed, though his nostrils flared for a moment as he moved your hand to wank him faster.  “And you are— meant to give us a new branch of the family, purer than any that came before…”

Even with your mind still clouded with desperation, you knew how you were expected to do that.  “You’ll— you’ll get me pregnant?” you realised with a shaky gasp.

Aemond nodded, smiling as he kissed your face.  “Don’t worry— it won’t be as difficult for you as it was for your mother.  She’s not like us, she’s… weaker.”

“They all are,” Daemon added, in defence of his wife.  “It’s been generations since an omega was born to us.. even in as pure a family as ours, it’s rare— only your uncle and I are Alphas.”

“It makes you much more fertile,” Aemond continued, “it makes us need to care for you— with our bloodline, there’s a small chance any of us could be like this… but our children, with both their parents being this way, they’ll all be gifted in the same way.  Think of the generations we’ll sire, and it all starts tonight…”

Clearly, he was excited by the prospect of keeping you bred for years to come, creating a new line of Targaryens guaranteed with these ‘gifts’ of fertility and instinct… well, you weren’t quite as keen.  Even as your body longed for the promise of being impregnated, your mind filled with fear.  “I— what if I can’t—?” you started to wonder.

“You will,” Aemond promised, without even knowing what concerned you— because he didn’t have to.  “You can do anything, omega, you’ll do anything for your Alphas.  It’s your nature; you obey.”

Just as he said it, Daemon thrust especially roughly into you and made you quiver.  A pleasure began to build in your gut, heavy and hot, while your stepfather let go of all pretence and fucked you with all the passion and possessiveness he’d been holding back for years.  He bent down over you and gave open-mouthed kisses to your back, making you feel small in his grasp and feeling the heat of every moan and sigh spread over your skin.  “So perfect,” he said again, “it’s better than anything— you really were made for pleasure, weren’t you, omega?”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Aemond sneered at his uncle.  “I think it’s time for my turn again.”

“You can have your turn after I’ve knotted her,” Daemon decided.

Aemond grabbed you angrily, pulling you forward and slipping Daemon’s cock out of you— both of you reacting in disappointment.  “Your knot?  Please,” Aemond scoffed, “that could take hours— I need her now.”

“So do I,” Daemon insisted, but Aemond was determined to get inside you again.  Breathing through his teeth, he pushed his cock back into you roughly, guiding your hips to make sure he filled you to the very brim.  Shivering, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him fuck into you, accepting that it was better to let them do whatever they liked with you and just hope you didn’t get ripped to shreds in their fight over you.

“So beautiful,” Aemond sighed just before he kissed you on the lips— you let your mouth go slack right away, offering it for him to claim as well; his kiss was filthy and hungry and desperate, making you moan and whimper his name helplessly as he fucked you harder and harder.

“Don’t make me watch this,” Daemon pleaded with a whine, easily the most pathetic you’d ever heard him sound.  “I need— fuck, she smells so good…”

“You can fuck her again,” Aemond promised, only breaking away from the kiss long enough to speak, “when I’m done.”

“When you’re done?” Daemon realised.  “You’re going to knot her, aren’t you?  Fucking bastard.”

Of course, the only thing that could make Aemond stop kissing you was a chance to argue with your stepfather.  “I wouldn’t speak of bastards if I were you, Uncle,” Aemond taunted.  “Let her use her hand on you while you wait.”

“Hand?  I have much greater ideas than that,” Daemon informed you both proudly.  He moved around from his place behind you, kneeling beside where Aemond laid on the ground so he could pull you away from the kiss and push his cock up to your face.  “Use your mouth, omega— stick your tongue out for me.”

Doing as you were told, you whimpered slightly as he slid the fat head of his cock over your waiting tongue.

“Good,” he praised, staring down at you and petting your hair soothingly.  “You do so well for us both, darling— now close your lips on it.  Suckle on it, not too hard— fuck, fuck, how perfect you are…”

“I don’t especially care for your bollocks in my face, Uncle,” Aemond frowned.

“Lean away,” Daemon offered, not exactly sympathetic to the issue when he was so focused on the warmth of your mouth on his cock.

“I can’t!  Your knee is on my hair!” Aemond snapped, and Daemon finally moved enough for Aemond to yank his head away with a grimace.  

“You see why I keep mine shorter now,” Daemon chuckled.  

“I doubt that’s exactly why,” Aemond rolled his eyes, but knowing how perverse his uncle could be, he almost worried that he actually had found himself on the other end of the same issue before.

“My apologies,” Daemon offered in a mumble, but Aemond clearly wasn’t going to hold a grudge— he was moaning again already, holding your hips so he could buck up into you, kissing all along your opposite shoulder while your stepfather pushed his cock deeper into your mouth.

In fact, he kept sliding his thick shaft between your swollen lips until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat, making you gag.  You wanted to apologise, but you didn’t for two reasons: one, your mouth was full; two, Daemon only moaned louder, praising you again.  In fact, he kept making you gag over and over until a tear ran down your cheek.  “Let her breathe,” Aemond ordered, sounding almost hurt with how worried he was for you.

Daemon pulled out of your mouth to let you gasp and sputter, Aemond holding your face and kissing it repeatedly to try to soothe you.  “I-I’m alright,” you promised, “let me try again, please, Papa—”

Daemon grinned darkly as he pushed his cock back up to your lips.  “You’re too sweet, omega— you want so much to please your Alphas, I know.”

“Don’t go so hard on her,” Aemond warned, “you know if you hurt her at all, it will be hard not to kill you.”

Daemon was more amused than concerned by the threat, but he knew his nephew was right— not just about the way Alphas would defend their mates instinctively (Daemon understood that instinct firsthand, it was how poor Laenor met his end), but about the fact that he should be gentler with you.  You weren’t one of his whores, you were his sweet daughter and a new omega— you needed to be treated with care.  But it was almost impossible to keep calm in a time like this.  “You should know how difficult it is to hold myself back,” Daemon sighed, “having to smell her and see her and listen to her— her mouth isn’t enough, I need her cunt.”

"Well, so do I," Aemond countered.

Unfortunately for Aemond, Daemon was stronger— and terribly impatient.  He growled and yanked you off of Aemond, throwing you onto your back and roughly filling you again.  You gasped, overwhelmed by being thrown back and forth between them, with never enough time for your body to get properly used to one or the other.  It certainly felt different looking up at your stepfather as he fucked you, seeing him groan and bare his neck as he moved his hips quickly.  "Papa," you gasped, properly accepting for the first time that it was your stepfather— your mother's husband, your great uncle— fucking you now.  He smiled down at you, holding himself up by one hand as he touched your face with the other.

"Darling," he whispered, "you knew, didn't you?  That I wanted you in this way?"

Honestly, you weren't sure— it all felt like a lifetime ago now; presenting as an omega was disrupting enough to your worldview, being claimed by your uncle and stepfather made it even more sure that this felt like the beginning of something entirely new.

"Daemon, everyone knew," Aemond assured.  "You were never subtle."

You wanted to ask if your mother knew— but the pleasure kept you from speaking anything coherent, and the instincts controlling your body kept you from feeling any guilt.  Like Aemond said, it just felt so right, so natural that you knew nothing about this could be wrong.

Aemond pulled you into another kiss, laying beside you and touching you anywhere he could reach— starting first with your breasts, which he broke away from your lips to latch onto next.  You moaned loudly, feeling terrible sensitive with Aemond's tongue and lips teasing your hardened nipples.  "How full these will be…" Aemond whispered reverently against your skin.  "All your milk for our babies… you're incredible— our little omega, you'll carry so many beautiful Targaryens in you…"

You whimpered, reaching down to find Aemond's throbbing cock— he hissed as you gripped it, trying to stroke him the same way he'd guided you before.  "I— I want to please you, Alpha…"

He groaned and smiled, coming back up to your lips again but holding your face so he could look at you closely.  "I know, sweet girl— it's in your nature.  You live to serve, don't you, omega?"

Whining slightly, you nodded, and he captured your mouth in another kiss.

The thrusts into you grew faster and more erratic, rocking your body as you gasped.  Aemond's hand slipped down over your mound, finding your swollen bud and rubbing it as Daemon fucked you with ruthless intensity.  It was too much: it made your back arch and your throat catch.

"Come, omega," Daemon ordered; helpless to his commands, you sucked in a gasp against Aemond's lips and felt another wave of hot slick leak from between your quivering legs.  Both men groaned, and you swore you saw Aemond's eye go black as he took a deep inhale of your heady scent in the air.

"So obedient," Aemond observed, "I hadn't even known that omegas could come on command… what a talent."

There was this embarrassing squelching noise coming from where your stepfather drove his cock into you, your arousal coating his and your thighs as he held the back of your knees.

“Fuck!” Daemon grunted suddenly, and you struggled and whimpered as you felt his cock seem to swell— more and more, well past what you thought was possible, until you cried out from the fullness.  

“Alpha!” you sobbed, hearing him snarl as he held your hips to keep you from trying to get away.  

“Are you—?” Aemond realised, growling with jealousy.  “Fuck, you’re breeding your own stepdaughter, you’re unforgivable…”

“It’s— fuck, just wait, nephew,” Daemon promised, still panting as more of his sticky come flooded inside you.

“I can’t wait,” Aemond whimpered, “I need to breed her, you know I need to—”

“It’ll be worth the wait,” Daemon assured, “it’s unlike anything— gods, she’s—”

He never finished any of those sentences, just moaning and continuing to pump his seed into you as he breathed heavily.  “What’s happening?” you asked Aemond with a shaky whimper.

“Your Papa is filling you, omega,” he answered, petting your side as you shivered.  “One of the ways we’re different— Alphas, we… we have something called a knot.  It keeps us inside so you’ll never waste a drop of seed— but only omegas can fit something so large, we have to… make concessions, with other lovers.”

“We can never be… fully inside, when we finish,” Daemon panted, “or we’ll hurt them— could kill them, really.  But you, you… you take it so well, omega, you take it perfectly… fuck!”

“I-it hurts, a little,” you admitted, trying not to move so you wouldn’t disturb the soreness inside you.  “It’s— how is it so big?”

Daemon smirked proudly, holding onto you just as tightly though he’d finished spilling his seed already.  He tilted his head back slightly first as he took deep and fast breaths, only to drop it forward limply as silver strands hung limply around his face.

"Fuck," Daemon sighed again, "I never could've imagined how it would feel… being so deep within you, that sweet cunt keeping my knot warm inside— darling, it's incredible."

He stroked your face approvingly as you sighed.

"You expect me to wait until it's gone down for my turn to feel that?" Aemond sneered.

"You don't have a choice," Daemon laughed, "you'll hurt her if you try to get her off now.  You'll just have to find some patience."

The only instinct stronger than the need to breed was to protect you, and so Aemond snarled as he guided your hand to his aching cock once more as he waited his turn.  You felt complete relief, for the first time since the headache began, as you felt Daemon's knot inside you.  You didn't feel the same as you had before, though: you felt… better?  In a sense.  You felt complete.  You felt accomplished, useful… needed.

Aemond groaned against your skin as he fucked your fist, kissing along your shoulder and collarbone.  "Such a good omega— you'll take me next, won't you?  You can satisfy us both, yes?"

"Yes, Alpha— anything, I'll do whatever I can," you promised, addicted already to how rewarding it felt to be good for them.  They both smiled proudly.

"You used to be so stubborn," Daemon remembered.  "So much changes when you present, doesn't it?  Believe it or not, I was rather level-headed before I presented as an Alpha."

"I'll go with 'not'," Aemond decided.

Daemon didn’t notice or mind much what Aemond had said, too focused on looking down at where your leaking cunt managed to fit his knot— he was still amazed by it.  He’d spent his whole life pulling out enough to keep the knot outside when he came (that is, when he could manage to finish at all), even though at times it took all his willpower to fight that instinct.  It felt perfect to be inside you now— perfect in a way he’d never allowed himself to imagine before.

Aemond’s patience was well past worn; he forced your hand to wrap tightly around his aching cock, fucking your hand as he kissed you hard and whined against your lips.  “Omega,” he panted, “even your hand is so divine— but I need to be inside you, I need to breed and fill you, please—”

“Not much longer,” Daemon promised, though he was clearly irritated.  “It takes time, nephew.”

You could tell Aemond wanted to say something particularly catty in that moment— probably something about how it was impressive that Daemon could keep his knot at all at his age— but only a groan fell from his mouth as you squeezed his cock a little tighter.  He guided your hand lower to rub gently over his balls, and you realised how desperate he really was when you felt how swollen they’d become, how tender they were as you barely touched them and he hissed in a breath.  “Fuck,” he panted, “all that come will be inside you soon— I know how badly you need it, omega, to be bred by your uncle.”

You whimpered but nodded in agreement, letting him move your hand just how he liked so you could keep his hunger at bay.

As for you, the knot inside you brought you mostly back to reality— but a needy, desperate Alpha beside you kept your omega instincts in control even as some logical thought returned to your mind.  That logic made you want to ask them a thousand questions, about what you were and what this all meant and what this would mean for your family… but you couldn’t, because Aemond never stopped kissing you long enough to let you speak.  Not that you were exactly fighting to get a word in: you loved the way he kissed you, so you just melted into it and let him go on tasting your mouth while he stroked himself with your hand.

You couldn’t say how long it was before Daemon broke his silence, but however long it was, it went by quickly— for you.  For Aemond, it was like a lifetime.  “It’s small enough now,” Daemon decided.  “You can finally have your turn, nephew— but I know you’ll miss me, little omega, when this pathetic boy is on top of you.”

“Gods, just hurry up,” Aemond choked, and Daemon sighed as he held your hips and unsheathed himself from you.  The knot wasn't completely subsided, but it had shrunk significantly— enough for him to hiss as he carefully slid it out.  You whimpered as the bulge of it tugged on your sore walls, and made a stinging pain hit your opening as it passed through.  But, finally, you were empty… for a split second.  Aemond wasted no time getting on top of you and guiding his leaking cock to your hole; he plunged in all at once, making you wince and yelp as you held onto his shoulders, but he ignored the pain he was inflicting and started to move already— he just couldn’t stop himself.

The sting was worth it, though, to hear his loud, satisfied moans; his voice was rougher and deeper than you’d ever heard it, filled with awe as he watched your body take him fully with every thrust.  He wasn’t moving very quickly yet— faster than you were ready for, yes, but still savouring the feeling of you for himself.

“I hope she’s not too stretched out from my knot,” Daemon chuckled, obviously not genuine— he hoped his nephew could feel the difference, so he was silently disappointed when Aemond shook his head.

“She feels just as before,” Aemond breathed, “just as tight and warm— just as perfect, fuck, she really was made for this.  I would never have taken another woman if I knew this was waiting for me— if I knew I could have an omega to breed someday.”

“I was under the impression you hadn’t taken other women,” Daemon laughed, “you certainly fuck like a virgin.”

“You ramble like a drunk,” Aemond sneered in reply, losing any interest in verbally sparring with his uncle as he started to move just a bit faster inside you.  "Beautiful," he sighed as he leaned down, holding you close, kissing your tears away as he fucked your sore cunt as gently as he could manage.  "So beautiful, my omega— you take me so well, even when it hurts you… you take your Alpha so well."

His praise made it all worth it, and soon enough the soreness was forgotten— as was his attempting to be careful with you; within a few minutes he was holding you tight and fucking into you ruthlessly, panting beside your face while he slammed his cock into the very end of your insides.  Even still, even after hours of your Alphas taking turns with you, your body never stopped leaking slick for them, until Aemond was soaked in your heat— his cock, balls, thighs, even dripping down to the bed beneath you…

“It won’t be much longer now,” he warned.  “You’ll be bred— my child in you, sweet girl, is that what you want?  All that ache’s going to go away, once you’re good and pregnant, like you were meant to be.”

It sounded like everything you’d ever wanted; it called to your most primal desires and made pleasure course through your veins until your skin was alight with ecstasy.  "Please, Alpha!" you sobbed, holding onto him tightly.  "I want your knot!  I want your baby…"

"Fuck," Aemond gasped, baring his neck to you as he thrusted faster, faster, faster— you were afraid you would go numb inside from the friction, heat building until it all collapsed; you twitched and jolted from the orgasm overtaking you, just as Aemond’s knot began to swell.  You felt it, like you had with Daemon: the warm come flooding inside your spent cunt, and your eyes rolled back as you went limp.  It hurt to take another knot, yes, but you were too exhausted to even react.  You were too exhausted to even think, even though you had much to think about: like the fact that your uncle and stepfather had just claimed and taken you, bred you, both of them fully intending to have you with child soon.  They’d have no way to tell whose child it was, would that even matter?  Would your mother stay married to Daemon— would either of them, or both, take you as their wife?  What would you say when, inevitably, questions arose?

None of those questions seemed to matter now… all you could think of was the man above you and inside you, the perfect expression of relief on his face as his knot kept growing inside you.

"O-oh," he choked, tightening his fist beside your head, "it feels so…"

"I know," Daemon smirked proudly.  "It's unlike anything else, isn't it?"

Aemond nodded weakly, still trying to catch his breath.  "Omega… our perfect omega…"

Daemon leaned down to join in on the praise, petting your head as you let your heavy eyes fall shut.  "You did so well for us both," he whispered to you.  "You may rest now— you did beautifully, now rest…"

You weren’t able to drift to sleep until they were both holding you; Aemond still inside and surrounding you while Daemon gently lifted you to cradle you from behind, with his chest to your back.  You should’ve felt confused, maybe guilty, maybe even disgusted as you reckoned with what you had done— what had been done to you.  Instead, you only felt at peace, safe and satisfied.  You were blessed with a gentle and dreamless sleep as your Alphas held you, still whispering to you sometimes— still discussing softly with each other what they would do next.  From now on, you could leave the thinking and worrying to them, and just fulfil your natural purpose.  It sounded nice, actually: lots of pure Targaryen babies, yours and Aemond’s and Daemon’s children, a strange but beautiful family.

For something you couldn’t have even imagined this morning, it seemed so obvious to you now… obvious, and sort of inevitable.  Not that you minded; you were happy to be theirs.

𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - Steven Grant

this has been sitting in my drafts for months, but i finally got the motivation to finish it lmao. Happy Thanksgiving for those who celebrate! Gobble gobble bitches🦃

Warnings: mentions of The Blip, implied PTSD, a slight sprinkle of angst, and fluff. that's it, I think

word count | 4.3K🤙🏻

You never took the bus. In all your years of living in London, you had only ridden the bus a handful of times. You usually ride your bike most places, especially to work. Eco friendly, your friend called it, not that you really cared. But it just so happens, that your bike was stolen. So, your hand was forced.

You worked at a bookstore, and you liked it well enough. After being Blipped for five years, your parents decided to give you their store, they were getting old and couldn’t take care of it as much as they could before; plus, they thought it would make you happy and get your mind off being dusted out of existence for so long. And it did, to a certain extent. You were happy surrounded by books, but all the years you missed out on was still nagging at the back of your mind. Your therapist said it would get better with time. But other than the feeling that something horrific could happen at any given moment constantly plaguing your mind, you were content with life; but there was one thing still missing.

You weren’t the best at dating, never had been. Every time you thought you found “the one” or just a genuinely good person, they’d come with a serious hamartia that they were hiding, one that you usually would find out a good couple months into a relationship. But then again, you were also very picky as your parents would say, but you just had standards. You’d think living in such a big city would give you a few good options at least. But alas, you were probably doomed to live the rest of your life in solitude.

You didn’t really notice at first, often stuck in your own little world, but you finally realized that you saw the same man on your bus almost every day on your way to work. It wasn’t that big of a deal, if only he wasn’t so handsome. You never considered yourself to be much of a shallow person, knowing that personality is what really counts, but you couldn’t help yourself to gawk when this man wasn’t looking. Maybe it was his shy and disheveled demeanor that intrigued you, or maybe it was that you were being so utterly vain that his strong jawline and dark brown eyes awakened some primal force within you that drew you to him. But considering how horrid you are at making the first move, you’d never know.

Your silly little crush didn’t go away. It didn’t help that your bookstore was right across the street from the museum he worked at. You felt like a stalker, knowing where he worked and eventually learning his name when he forgot to take his name tag off one night. Steven. It suited him. You thought about visiting the museum once, but that would definitely be stalkerish behavior, but anyone was allowed into museums, right? It wouldn’t be weird if he were to visit your bookshop. Then again, if some dude were staring at you every time you got onto the bus and suddenly paid a visit, you would probably call 999. 

Yeah, you decided against it.

It wasn’t until one early morning that forced you to confront this crush. Steven entered the bus with dark circles under his eyes, more pronounced than usual. He looked like he could’ve fallen over any given moment, he looked like he hadn’t slept in ages. You tried not to tense up when he took a seat next to you, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You prayed you could act like a normal human being until the bus ride was over. But then, almost half way to work, he did something you never would’ve expected. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

Your eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. It only took a couple seconds to realize that he didn’t do it on purpose, poor thing fell asleep and his head naturally lolled to the side, where your shoulder just so happened to be. You had no idea what to do. Do you wake him up? He’s just a stranger, this is weird and he definitely should not be doing this. But he looked so peaceful, and he did look like he had gotten absolutely no sleep. But would he think it would be weird if he knew you just let him sleep on you? You hoped no one else could see how panicked you looked.

You felt your face heat up as you ultimately decided to let the exhausted man remain situated against your shoulder, the bus ride was almost over anyway. You felt your nails dig into your palms, trying to focus on anything but the warm feeling that radiated throughout your body. As the bus rolled to a stop, you gently nudged the sleeping man until he sat straight up with wide eyes, clearly disoriented. He looked at you in confusion before uttering a quick apology before he made his quick escape from the awkward situation. You didn’t blame him, but you did feel a little embarrassed yourself, even though you probably had no reason to be.

You thought about that bus ride all day, your brain fogged over and distracted from your work, the bells that sounded off any time someone would enter the store being the only reality check that would snap you back from your racing mind. A part of you just wanted to buy another bike, never take the bus ever again, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to afford it, not now at least. Maybe you could just walk all the miles back to your flat…in the dark…without the proper means to protect yourself…yeah, awkward situations were more appealing than the threat of getting jumped in an alleyway.

You hoped Steven wouldn’t be on the nightly bus ride home like he usually was, only occasionally he would work late, but that just wasn’t in the works for you. How lucky. Apparently it was a busy night, people coming and going, it was a Friday to be fair. But there were no empty seats as he boarded the bus, being the last person, only one was empty, one next to you. You felt like a regular old Mary Sue. And you could tell by his expression that he was panicked, clearly not forgetting what happened that morning.

You wore a tight lipped smile as he walked towards you, the bus suddenly moving jolting him a bit forwards with a stumble, but he quickly tried to brush it off with suave. “Uh, is this seat taken?” The man asked timidly, his hand slightly shaking as he pointed to the spot next to you.

Obviously not. “No, go ahead.” You smiled, more genuinely that time, feeling that familiar heat rise up to your face as he settled next to you.

“Cheers.” He nervously smiled back, hugging his satchel close to his chest.

You couldn’t help but smirk as you noticed his eyes already started to droop shut, the man wearing exhaustion like it was second nature. It also made you a little sad. “Hope you get some sleep tonight, maybe you won’t fall asleep on me again in the morning.” You chuckled, not being able to resist teasing him slightly.

“Oh, goodness.” The man cringed at himself, turning to face you with a guilty expression. “I’m so sorry about that, miss. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay!” You cut him off with a giggle. “You don’t have to apologize, I get it. I’m not a morning person either. Sorry if me not waking you up right away was weird, I just didn’t have the heart to when you looked so tired.” If you weren’t blushing already, you most certainly were now.

“Ah, it’s not weird. I appreciate it actually. Your shoulder was very comfortable.”

“Jeez, how awful is your bed if you think this boney shoulder is anywhere close to being comfortable?” You laughed softly, a shy smile stretching across his face. “I’m Y/n, by the way. Thought you should know considering I already know yours.” You gently flicked the name tag that was still pinned to his jacket. “Nice to meet you, Steven.”

The next morning you were greeted with Steven’s smiling face, that nervousness behind it making it more endearing. You didn’t hesitate to take a seat next to him, feeling more confident now that you’ve actually had a conversation with the man. So far, he seemed sweet, shy but sweet. He definitely seemed worth your interest, you wanted to get to know him. Hopefully he felt the same.

“A gift shop-ist? I don’t think that’s a word.” You chuckled. “Why not just a salesperson?”

Steven shrugged. “Doesn’t sound that much more appealing, now, does it? Well, what do you do? Where do you work?”

“I own the bookstore right across the street from the museum. So, I guess that makes me a bookstore-ist.” You giggled at your own joke, Steven letting out a small amused snort making you feel better about it.

“Oh, a bookworm, are you?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve always liked reading. The store was my parents, but they passed the baton over to me. I like it.”

“Huh, I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

“And I’ll have to check out the museum. Don’t know much about Egyptian history, but maybe you’ll be my tour guide?”

“If my boss doesn’t get on my arse about it. Well, eh, it doesn't matter. I’ll be happy to take time out of my super busy schedule to teach you all about all the pharaohs and gods and anything else that won’t bore you to death.” He grinned.

“Well, with you teaching me I’m sure I’ll never get bored.” You were thankful the bus finally arrived, the somewhat intense eye contact the two of you shared was getting a bit much for you to handle. “Well, see you later!” You waved as you started to walk to your workplace, Steven replying with a cute little “laters gators.”

It didn’t take too long before you and Steven got close, well, you thought so anyway. The two of you would always sit or stand next to each other on the bus each morning and night. Sometimes, you’d even visit each other’s place of work. You learned each other’s coffee orders, so you’d sometimes surprise each other with coffee. The first time you did it, Steven wore the cutest flustered expression on his face. So far, you two were friendly. Just friendly. You knew you wanted more, you just didn’t know if he felt the same, or even how to bring it up. You’d been out of the game for so long you didn’t even think you remembered how to kiss a person. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself or get rejected, you didn’t know if you could handle that.

Talking to your sibling about it, they just told you to get over the stupid fear and just ask the man out. Of course, it was easy for them to say, they were more outgoing and fearless. For once, you wish you could’ve turned off your introvertedness and anxiety. You got good vibes from Steven, he seemed perfect. Too perfect. And your track record showed that perfect meant they were less than perfect. You were a bit of a pessimist, you hated that about yourself, but it’s probably what had saved you from one too many toxic relationships. On the surface, Steven looked like he’d never even hurt a fly. You wondered what was underneath that timid exterior. But maybe there wasn’t, only time would tell.

It was a cold dreary morning when your feelings started to spiral out of control. You seemed to wake up on the wrong side of the bed, feeling sour for no particular reason. Just one of those days, you supposed. You had trouble hiding your mood on your face, Steven seemed to notice it immediately as soon as you boarded the bus. He had asked you what was the matter, but you just brushed him off by saying the weather dampened your spirit. Later, he had brought you a hot cup of coffee on his break, saying that days like these needed some warmth, which in turn made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. You encouraged him to look around, knowing that he enjoyed reading as well. It was hard to concentrate on working when he was walking about with an awestruck expression, gently running his fingers over the spines of the various books that lined the shelves. “Do you have any books about Egypt?” Steven called out from across the room.

“Yeah, some. On aisle 6, along with other history books.” You pointed out, smiling to yourself as Steven walked to the designated aisle with a skip in his step. He asked about a specific author, wondering if their new book was in stock, clearly anxious to read it. “No, sorry.” You frowned sympathetically after looking it up in inventory. “I can see if it’s available somewhere else?”

Steven shook his head. “That’s alright. Wouldn’t expect it to be anywhere, the author isn't very well known and there's probably not many copies out there. But thanks for looking.”

And that’s when you got the idea. You weren’t good with words, but you loved buying people gifts. When the holidays rolled around, you were an expert at gift giving, you pride yourself on it. Maybe you could express your feelings by buying him this book he wanted so much. It was a bit pricey, being scarce and all, but you could afford it and you wanted to see the smile on Steven’s face, if just for a moment. Before you could think about it any longer, you clicked the purchase button.

And oh man, was it a long anxious wait for the book to arrive. You had to order it from a different country, so obviously it was going to take a while. But you were impatient, and you counted the seconds until you heard the sweet shrill sound of your doorbell ringing, excitement bubbling up in your chest as you opened the door to find the package exactly where you expected to find it. You hoped Steven would be as happy as you were, and you didn’t even want the book for yourself.

You were disappointed when you didn’t see Steven on the bus the next morning. He probably just slept in again. You were so anxious to give the book to him, but then you didn’t see him all day, which was unusual. He usually paid you a visit at least once on his break. Then another day went by…then another. A whole week passed and you started to get worried. He wouldn’t answer your texts or calls, you even went to his work to ask for him but he hadn’t been in. You never pegged him as someone who would just up and disappear. But then again, how could you know that? You were practically just coffee buddies. Guess you got the book for nothing…

It was another week before Steven started showing up again, but you made a point not to even make eye contact with him, not even when he greeted you warmly as he sat next to you like nothing ever happened. From the corner of your eye, you could see his downcast and confused expression and you almost took pity on him. Almost. You probably should’ve seen it coming, there was always some fatal flaw about most people, your blinding crush on Steven made you forget. It was probably for the best, you only would’ve gotten hurt. Terrible timing though, you were at a point where you really needed a friend to talk to.

That constant feeling that something bad was going to happen at any given moment was proved correct. Thankfully, it wasn’t half the universe getting blipped out of existence, but it was almost just as mysterious and frightening. One night, the sky completely changed. It looked like a Van Goph painting, but instead of it making you feel a sense of peace and comfort like viewing the painting normally did, it terrified you. Seeing the sky warp out of focus, it brought on some severe panic attacks. What did this mean? What was happening and what consequences would it have on the world? It plagued your mind. But even after getting Blipped, you never really talked about it with anyone, not even your family. You just kept all these feelings bottled inside, not wanting to burden anyone with your problems. With every new supernatural phenomena, you felt all these feelings begging to come to the surface. You couldn’t have that, you had responsibilities. But with Steven...he seemed like the type of person that you could actually talk to, if it weren’t for him ghosting you. You’d just have to keep it all inside a bit longer.

Stepping off the bus without a word to Steven made you feel hollow, cold without the coffee he usually would bring you as you both make jokes and bitched about the morning weather typically being foggy and/or rainy. It was one of those mornings, and it just made you feel worse. It was also a slow day, barely anyone coming into your store which was unusual, especially on a rainy day. You felt sluggish, not interacting with anyone made you feel like a lifeless zombie. You just wanted a customer, just one. But as soon as Steven walked in, you immediately regretted that sentiment.

You could instantly sense Steven’s nervousness as he walked up to your counter, hands fidgeting with one another and keeping his gaze fixed anywhere but you. “Hiya.” He spoke softly, an unconvincing smile on his lips.

“How can I help you today, sir?” Your bluntness made him blink in shock, obviously not expecting you to be so cold. You were being petty and you hated it, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was an annoying habit to be passive aggressive, and seeing the deepening frown on Steven’s face just made you feel worse.

He sighed. “Look, I-” He stuttered, “I know you’re probably wondering why I disappeared. And I know you might be upset-”

“Might?” You scoffed, biting your lip, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you. “We talked every day, Steven. And then all of a sudden, you’re gone. Without a word or reason why. So, yeah, sorry if I can’t help being a bit upset.” You chuckled bitterly, sighing sadly when you saw him shrinking away from your words. “And…I was worried. I thought that, I guess that I’d never see you again.”

“You were really worried? About me?”

“I mean, yeah. You’re, like, my only friend.” You blushed.

“Oh, wow, really?” He chuckled in disbelief.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…man, you could do so much better than me. I’m just this ball of anxiety. I don’t know how being friends with someone like me could be very nice.”

You frowned, saddened by his lack of self confidence. “Come on, Steven. Don’t be so hard on yourself. But you did seriously worry me. Where did you go? What even happened?” Steven looked up at you with wide eyes, fidgeting with the ends of his jacket. He looked like he was having a conversation with himself, his gaze becoming blank and unfocused, then looking back at you like he had forgotten you were even standing there. It didn’t make you hopeful that you were going to get an answer, and the realization made you deflate with a sigh. “You’re not gonna tell me.” You stated.

Steven gave you a sympathetic frown, his eyes already pleading for forgiveness without having to say anything. “I would, truly, I would. But I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s…complicated.”

You shook your head, trying to ignore your throat tightening and your already stinging eyes. You wore a tight lipped smile, taking a deep breath and meeting his gaze once more. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” You chuckled bitterly, quietly excusing yourself to the bathroom before Steven had a chance to say anything else.

You hated crying, for any reason; and you especially didn’t like crying because of someone else, it wasn’t worth it. But you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as soon as you closed and locked the door to the store’s bathroom. You covered your mouth to muffle the inevitably whimpers and squeaks that escaped your lips. You prayed that Steven couldn’t hear you, if he was even still in the store. Probably not, you felt like you must’ve scared him off. But to your surprise, you froze in place when you saw him still at your register. You quickly noticed the item in his hands and your heart felt like it was going to implode.

Neatly wrapped in Egyptian themed wrapping paper, a sandy white texture decorated with gold hieroglyphics with a simple post-it note on top that read ‘Steven’, the book that you went through hell to get for the man but never ended up giving to him. A desperate attempt to get him to realize your growing feelings for him. The gesture felt silly now, you certainly felt silly as Steven looked at you expectantly. “Sorry, it’s just…it had my name on it.” He explained with a slight stutter. You cursed yourself for not just leaving it at home where it would be safe from prying eyes. Maybe you should’ve chosen a more subtle paper so that it wouldn’t stand out as much as the gold. “I didn’t want to open it without your permission.” Ever the gentleman, huh?

Despite not being in the friendliest mood and still recovering from your quick cry in the bathroom, you shrugged and motioned for him to go ahead and open it. If only he hadn’t found it, then you could’ve just given it away or something and never have to think about it again. That would’ve been easier.

You waited with bated breath as Steven gently unwrapped the gift, careful not to tear the paper too much, as if it cost more than seven pounds. You almost didn’t want to look at him as the actual book started to peek through, the title flashing in white bold font smack dab in the center of the cover. It was only when the wrapping paper was completely off did you steal a glance at Steven’s face.

Your heart pounded as Steven's face immediately lit up with pure happiness, a wide grin spreading across his face and his bright eyes glancing back and forth between you and the book. "It's the book I wanted..." He said in disbelief. "You...bought this for me?" He stuttered.

You shrugged. "Yeah, who else would it be for? There's no one else I know obsessed with Egyptian history."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

There was a deafening silence for a moment where Steven just looked at you with an expression you could only describe as awe, like you just hung the moon and stars and how lucky he must've been to be in your presence. But of course, your insecurities told you that wasn't the case, it would never be that case.

"Thank you..." He whispered, so softly you had to strain to hear it. "This means a lot to me, really. I'll pay you back."

"No." You said immediately. "No, Steven. It was a gift. I didn't get this for you and expected anything in return."

Steven sighed, placing the book down gently on the counter, taking a step closer to you. "Look, I-...I'm not good at not being my awkward self, especially in front of such a beautiful person. I never wanted you to be angry with me. I have a lot of secrets, and I know that doesn't sound like the type of person you'd want to spend your time with. But if you let me...I'd love to take you out. And maybe we could get close enough where I can tell you all those secrets. But I understand if you never wanna talk to me again..."

You were blushing fiercely, your cheeks heating up you could practically feel your blood boiling just beneath your skin. You never expected Steven to be so bold, even though it didn't exactly sound that bold with his stuttering and slight waver in his voice. But it flustered you all the same. You rarely ever met someone and wanted to know all their secrets, but he made it sound so alluring. Tantalizing, like learning more and more about him was some incredible journey you had the opportunity to venture on. Him disappearing for a while and not telling you why was one thing, but you could sense another red flag in that speech of his somewhere. But the way he was looking at you, his pleading eyes, those big brown enchanting eyes that you wanted to get lost in. You didn't have the heart to say anything but yes.

"You really want to go out with me?" You voiced almost breathlessly.

Steven smiled wide. "Of course I do, darling. Since the first time we had a conversation, you made me feel like I could have something in my life other than chaos. You made...you make me feel at peace."

You chuckled bashfully, practically putty in his hands already. "How chaotic could the life of a gift shop-ist be?"

"Go out on a date with me and I'll tell you. What do you say?"

"Yes." You smiled. "I say yes."

jeez, finally took a break from posting only smut lmao. i miss steven, my baby boy🥺

Aemond can brand me any day😏

Imagine Aemond is so possessive that he removes your eye so you two can match. Or he carves his name into your skin with his dagger while he's fucking you or just cuts out your eye while fucking you too yikes lmao🙈

I'm not gonna write it but someone should👀

FUCK THIS WAS SO FUCKIN GOOD. MY HEART. Dieter, my beloved disaster bi💗💜💙

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part three; finale)

read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) and 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 (part two) first!

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || he can't believe you're really here— now he has to just try not to blow it... figuratively speaking.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5.7k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms/overstimulation [for reader], creampie), sex work (however dieter technically does not pay the reader for sex, just her flight to visit him c:), mentions of covid-19 pandemic, soft dieter being soft, emotions!! lots of 'em!, extremely sappy/fluffy ending (oops?)

He wasn’t sure who he was more worried would get recognized: you, or himself.

It was his idea to go out to dinner first, in fact he’d insisted on it.  Going out to dinner in times like these was a bit iffy, but thankfully the place had outdoor dining and you’d both already tested negative— for more than just the virus…

It was a beautiful evening to eat outside, but it made him even more anxious that any passerby might know him either of you from your respective works; so far, no one had said anything though.

As he watched you take a sip of your sparkling water, he realized that he hadn’t had a crush on anyone in a long, long time.  He hadn’t had sweating palms and a racing heart and a dry throat over someone since probably high school.  By the time he was in his BFA program, he was so focused on his craft that he didn’t find himself worrying much about that sort of stuff— and if he wanted to get someone into bed, it didn’t seem like much to stress over.

This was different.  This wasn’t an issue of getting you to sleep with him, although he certainly hoped you wouldn’t renege on the intentions you’d stated before— this was about getting you to like him, maybe even (as he would’ve put it back when he last had a crush) ‘like like’ him.

“Was your flight okay?” Dieter asked compulsively to fill the silence, proud of himself for thinking of something to say.

“Still good,” you nodded.  “You asked me that when we first got here.”

“Right,” he sighed, “sorry.  I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, setting your glass down on the white tablecloth.  “I’m nervous, too.  But in a good way.”

He smiled.  “Yeah— I’m just really excited that you’re here.  And it’s still kind of weirding me out that you’re… you know, real.”

“It’s definitely trippy,” you agreed.  “When you see somebody over video chat a lot, they look sort of surreal in real life.”

“Are you… speaking from experience?” he wondered, lowering his voice a bit.

“Yeah— but not this kind of experience,” you clarified.  “I’ve never met anyone from my work before— I told you that.”

“Right, yeah— I believe you,” he assured.  “Have you ever flown overseas just to meet someone before?”

You laughed, looking down for a second.  “No, I haven’t,” you answered, “but this isn’t the first time I’ve been, you know, wined and dined by somebody…”

“Well, I figured this wasn’t your first date,” Dieter scoffed.

“No, I mean— well, yeah,” you hummed, “but I, um… before I started camming, I was actually a sugar baby.  So I’ve had my flights paid for before, is what I mean.”

He widened his eyes a little, but nodded— hoping to look more intrigued than overwhelmed.  “Oh, wow, that’s— I don’t know a lot about that, honestly…”

“I was about to ask if you’d ever had a sugar baby before,” you smirked, “guess not.”

“Yeah, no,” he shook his head, “not my— not for me.  Not before, I mean— is that what you want?”

He got a little nervous that you would only want that— a relationship built on money.  He was more than happy to drop some cash on you— he’d offered to pay for everything for you on this trip, it only seemed fair when you had to come all this way— but he got a sick feeling in his stomach imagining that that was all you wanted from him.

But then again, he just said he didn’t know a lot about it, maybe it wasn’t like that… he just felt like it was another performance, and that was the last thing he needed from anybody.

“O-oh, no— not with us,” you answered quickly, blinking a few times, and he sighed with relief.  “I mean, it was nice— it wasn’t all old guys and crazy finance douchebags like people think,” you explained with a laugh, “but it was… it was hard work, in its own way.  ‘Cause another misconception is that it’s sex in exchange for money and gifts— it’s not, not the way I did it at least.  Those guys wanted the ‘girlfriend experience’... that’s the most profitable thing, whether it’s online or in-person.”

Dieter cleared his throat; can’t blame them, I guess…

“But, you know, they didn’t have the time for a genuine relationship, so it was like giving that emotion but never receiving it,” you continued, “and that was exhausting.  Not to mention most of them had other girls involved… I’m not a jealous person, but you know, that’s obviously not what I want for myself in the end.  So I switched to camming, worked out well with the pandemic and everything…”

“I’m sure,” Dieter agreed.  “So, um… maybe this is kind of a forward question, for a first date, but… what do you want for yourself in the end?”

You seemed to get a little more shy, then.  “Well…” you began softly.  “Despite what you’ve seen me do, I’m a pretty traditional girl.  I want a serious relationship, I want a lifelong commitment, I want… a family, probably.”

It was hard not to feel a lump in his throat when you said that, even if his emotions were conflicted at best.

“I mean— that doesn’t have to be you,” you rushed out, “I’m just saying… that’s the end goal.  I have a lot of time for that, in my opinion.”

“No, right,” he agreed.  “So then, I guess the obvious question— and probably a much easier one— is what’s your goal for tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow.  “I already told you my goal for tonight.”

He swallowed thickly.  He remembered your last message before getting on the plane pretty clearly: boarding now. hopefully i can get some sleep but i’m pretty wired ngl. just thinking about getting there and jumping your bones. i want you to fuck me so hard i can’t walk (or think) straight.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded at all if you just took me straight to the hotel,” you smirked, “but dinner is nice.”

“Yeah, I— I thought about it,” he admitted.  “But… can I be honest?”

“Always.”

“I wanted this to be more than just… that,” he said.  He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell you, but he hoped it wouldn’t bother you too much.  Thankfully, the gentle smile creeping up your face seemed to indicate that it wasn’t particularly offensive.

“So, what do you want this to be?” you pressed.

“We can figure that out as we go,” he offered, “we should get to know each other better— for real.  But that night that we stayed up until three just talking after what was supposed to be a one-hour call—”

He saw you smile even wider as you remembered it.

“I haven’t felt close to anyone like that in—” he began, but it all stopped as the waiter suddenly appeared from thin air.

“Your tortellini, ma’am,” he said as he set your plate down in front of you, and you offered an intrigued ‘ooh’ as you examined the dish, “and your langoustines alla busara,” he finished as he set Dieter’s food down.

“Thank you,” you offered the server with a polite nod, but Dieter could only muster a hum— he was a little miffed that the guy had managed to interrupt such an important moment.

“Anything else I can get for you two?” he asked, looking back and forth.

You looked over at him to check first, before shaking your head and replying, “No, I think we’re alright.”

“Excellent,” he beamed.  “And— can I just say one thing?”

You both paused, not sure what to make of that.  “Uh, sure,” Dieter decided, since the waiter seemed to be looking at him.

“I loved you in Hunger Strike,” he said excitedly; Dieter tensed up, wanting to look at you to gauge your reaction but suddenly too afraid of what he’d find.

“Oh, thank you,” he mumbled out, “that… means a lot.”

“I mean, it really moved me,” the waiter insisted, even though Dieter just wanted this interaction to end promptly.  “You were so— I’m really not trying to intrude, but is there any way I can get your autograph?”

Then he looked at you, and he couldn’t quite read the expression on your face— amusement, maybe, with a hefty dose of discomfort as well.  You looked away and took a long sip of your drink.  “Uhh,” Dieter choked, looking back at his adoring fan, “you’ll get my autograph when you bring the check.”

Seeming to realize that he had gone too far, the young man straightened up and cleared his throat.  “Right, uh— enjoy your meal.”

Scampering away, he left the both of you behind, along with all that tension he’d created.  How come he got a escape a situation that was his own fault, and Dieter was stuck here wondering if you would be upset that he didn’t tell you who he really was— or if you’d reveal you were a crazy stalker-fan the whole time— or if knowing he was famous would change your interest in being with him (if you even had any)?

“I’m… sorry about that,” Dieter finally offered to you, and you started to smile.

“Don’t be,” you chuckled, “it was kinda funny.  Do you usually react so… badly, to that kind of thing?”

He coughed a bit.  “No, I— are you not…?  Do you know—?”

“I saw the movie, Hector, I don’t live under a rock,” you admitted.

“Oh.”  Not sure what to say next, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “What did you think of it?”

Shrugging, you answered with a simple ‘eh’.  There was a pause before he began to crack up— and then you did, too. 

“So, I’ve been worrying about all you finding out about my career for nothing?” he assumed, and you nodded.

“I didn’t recognize you right away,” you explained, “but I put it together before we planned all this.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he wondered.

“I mean, I didn’t think I needed to, really,” you shrugged again.  “It’s just your job.  I was ready to talk about it if you brought it up— if you wanted to vent about work or something— but you never did, so I figured it must not be relevant.”

“Does it… change anything between us?” he asked nervously.  “Do you feel weird about going out with a movie star?”

“Mm, I don’t know about star…” you smirked, making him laugh again— and that was the part that was the same as always.  You still made him laugh, and now that the two of you were really talking again, it felt just like that night that you talked for hours— but even better.

When the plates were cleaned and the bill was paid, the two of you walked back to his hotel— he’d picked this place in part because he could see it from his window.  But that brief walk back was one of his favorite parts of the night so far, only because he’d slipped his arm around you, and you leaned into him: in that moment, he felt more normal than he had in a long time— and yet, at the same time, special in a way he’d never felt before.

~

“I tried to clean up in here, but—”

“Isn’t there housekeeping for that?” you wondered.  

“Yeah, but… I’ve had the ‘do not disturb’ sign up for the past week,” Dieter explained.  “Didn’t want anyone to come in while we were talking…”

“Right,” you smiled, finishing your examination of the room and turning to face him again.  The door shut on its own; you were looking at him with every light in the room reflected in your eyes.

He stepped closer to you, and wrapped his arms around you, and— why were his palms so clammy?  “I don’t think I’ve been this nervous to kiss someone since… since maybe my first ever kiss,” he recalled, and you laughed softly.

“Yeah, me either,” you whispered back, and he ran his hand over the curve of your hip.  “Who was your first kiss?”

“Uh, Sandy something… Brendan, I think— no, Brennan… Sandy Brennan.  We sat next to each other in History class in seventh grade,” he recalled.  “What about you?”

“I mean, unless you count a peck or two from my kindergarten boyfriend,” you chuckled, “my first real kiss wasn’t until high school— Gregory Cho.  But I wasn’t that nervous… actually, I was sort of ready to get it over with.”

“There was someone I was really nervous to kiss in high school, too,” he recalled, “but that was… different.”

“Who was it?”

That name was much easier to recall.  “Alex Brooks.”

“Was she super pretty?  Or popular?” you pressed, wondering what had him so nervous, what made it different.

“Both,” Dieter replied quickly.  “And… he was captain of the basketball team.”

You didn’t react strongly, but he still noticed it.

“Is that—?” he began to ask.

“He sounds like a real catch,” you smiled.  “Was he a good kisser?”

“Yeah,” Dieter laughed, “for a high schooler.  I guess things don’t feel as special now as they did back then— just some decent making-out in someone’s dad’s truck was the coolest thing, now it’s like— it’s all right there, you don’t have to…” he trailed off, but started a new sentence.  “I mean, even you— I’ve seen every part of you, but I just really met you for the first time.  And somehow I’m so afraid to kiss you.”

You were still smiling, but it changed, and you reached up to rest your hand on the back of his neck; it made him shiver in the best way.  “If you’re afraid, then it must still be pretty special.”

You kissed him, after all that; he would’ve felt bad for making you wait, if he wasn’t so fully engrossed in kissing you back and pulling you closer and breathing in deeply against your skin.  

For a long time, that was all it was— just one, amazing kiss.  Just his lips on yours and the gentle dance of trying to go further without going to far; just your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders as he gripped your waist through the dress.

You started to pull him across the room by his shirt— towards the bed— and broke away to speak; he tried to chase your lips for more, but stopped when you bit your lip and rested a finger on his chin.

“You haven’t seen every part of me,” you corrected him— even though he barely fucking remembered saying that after a kiss like that.  “I mean, my body, sure, but… not who I really am.”

“Then show me that,” he pleaded.  “That’s what I want— you, everything.”

You smiled wide and kissed him again, the two of you toppling onto the bed together.  

He’d been thinking about doing this since the moment he saw you: pulling up the bottom of your dress so he could pet your thighs, enamored with the smoothness of your skin.  “Baby,” he purred when he caught sight of your panties— what little there was of them.  The lace just gave him a glimpse of what was beneath, a tease of your perfect little cunt.

“God, I need you so bad,” you groaned as you pulled him down for another kiss; he’d been hard since you wrapped your arms around him, and he could swear he was already throbbing by the time he rocked his hips against yours.  “Fuck— feels even bigger than it looked…”

“Maybe your computer screen wasn’t big enough,” he joked, making you laugh lightly before another moan came out when he rocked down on you again.  “What do you want, beautiful?”

“You… you know what I want…” you panted, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Humor me,” he encouraged, moving in to kiss your neck— and loving the way you squirmed under him.

“Want— want you to fuck me,” you whimpered, “want you to make me— fuck— yours…”

He groaned deeply as he rutted his hips into yours harder, finally taunting you to the point that you had to reach down and start opening his pants.  “So eager,” he mocked playfully, as if he wasn’t going to ravage you the second you were done getting his cock out.

In fact, he almost tore your dress as he pulled it down to expose your chest, barely finding the time to appreciate the view of your tits before latching his mouth onto them.  “Oh fuck,” you gasped, and he smiled around the pert nipple in his mouth; these had seemed sensitive from the way you toyed with them as you touched yourself, but it was heaven on earth to confirm his suspicion himself.

“Want me to make you mine?” he prompted again, voice muffled by your delicate skin in his mouth, and you whimpered as you nodded.

“Yes— please—” you begged.

“Not sure I can do that,” he warned, and you gave him a confused look.  “You’re already mine, you told me yourself.”

You giggled, arching your back slightly as the tip of his tongue drew circles on you.  "I did say that, didn't I?"

"Mhm," he confirmed.  "Hard to forget."

"Well, m'still yours," you offered, "but I need you right now, I'll do— fuck, anything, just—"

"You don't need to do anything," he assured, looking up at you as he moved his mouth from your breast down a little lower, "just lay back and I'm gonna take care of you."

You bit your lip and nodded.

"Second I saw you I wanted to kiss you all over," he sighed.

"Well, I've got a couple ideas of where you can start," you smirked.

And yes, he would love to start there, but he needed to do his best not to rush this.  So, smiling up at you first, he began his journey.  His lips and tongue explored your body on his way down: a kiss here, a lick there, a playful bite when he felt extra naughty.  "You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against you.

"Yeah?  You too," you sighed.

He didn't think of himself like that— handsome, maybe, certainly aware of his better angles, but beautiful felt strange.  But he liked it, especially when you said it.  Especially when you said it while he was slotting his face between your legs.

It was even prettier up close, and the smell was fucking intoxicating: tangy and musky and sweet, heady, earthy, human.  And he knew you'd taste even better.

So he dove right in.  Maybe he should've started with your clit, that would've been the obvious choice, but his instincts led him to just slide his tongue right into your hole.  If nothing else, it certainly seemed to take you off guard, and you gasped as you grabbed onto his hair with both hands.

"Baby, fuck, that's— oh god, you can't imagine how many times I thought of this," you admitted, breathing heavy already.  He smiled against you, then gave you one big lick from the furthest down his tongue could reach all the way to the very top— all while holding fierce eye contact with you.  "Fu-uuuuck," you choked, dropping your head back just as your eyes rolled up.  "That's so… just do that again, please…"

He did it a few more times, noticing the way you seemed to get more impatient with each one, until your hips were chasing after his tongue.  "Stay still, baby, don't you trust me to do this right?" he purred, holding tighter on your hips.

"Yeah, I just— been so long," you whimpered.

He just did his best to find what made you scream the loudest and keep doing that— you were so sensitive, he just had to press his tongue down flat on your clit and move it in circles and you’d start shaking and sobbing and begging.  He moaned into you every time you tugged on his hair, having to rock his hips against the bed to appease his attention-deprived cock.

"You're… so amazing," you panted, "I— fuck! Oh god, I can't remember the last time someone—"

You never finished your thought, because he started fucking you with his tongue and you were too busy moaning his name, but he couldn't believe what a waste it was that nobody was eating this pussy on a regular basis.

"Gonna— oh fuck, yes, gonna come," you warned, "I… I'm gonna come so fucking hard…"

You started shaking, and he started fighting to keep you as still as he could so his work wouldn't be interrupted.  For a second he wondered if you were already coming or not— but then you made this noise, and your cunt clamped down on his tongue, and you cried out his name; it was perfect, it was the most beautiful moment he could ever imagine.

When it became too much, you went from tugging his hair to pushing him away with it, and he grinned up at you with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, and he saw the tear streaks on your temples and cheeks.  He traced one with his thumb before kissing you again— deep and hungry, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He hummed when your hands reached down to work on getting his pants off— eager and shaky, he certainly related to that.  As soon as your hand wrapped around his cock, he moaned, just from that.  He was almost embarrassed about it, until you bit his lip in playful encouragement.  "Does that feel good?" you purred.

"Yeah— your hands are better than mine," he laughed breathlessly.  

"How about this?" you raised an eyebrow, swiping your thumb over his slit, and he groaned as he rocked into your touch.

"God, baby…" he groaned.  As good as it felt, he found the strength to grab you by both your wrists and pin them down by your head.  You grinned, struggling just a bit, and moaned as he slid his cock against your soaking pussy.

“Don’t tease me,” you begged, “feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”

But he wasn’t teasing you— he was psyching himself up.

Believe it or not, he actually felt pretty nervous about this part.  Not for a lack of experience— for the entirely opposite reason.  Dieter had been with a lot of people, and for the most part, it was all… the same.  It all blended together— he only remembered those people from when he was a kid because he was a kid, and his romantic encounters were so few and far between.  He could remember details of his various partners from the last few years— Crystal who had a clit piercing, Marvin who begged to be choked, Cameron who seemed to enjoy giving him a blowjob even more than he enjoyed receiving it— but this, the actual sex, it was generally pretty interchangeable.  

So, he was worried that after all that build-up, after all the yearning and fantasizing and talking, that this would be the end of it being special— and you would just turn into a hook-up with a slightly more interesting backstory than the rest.  

As valid as that fear was, it was far from enough to stop him now, not when you were looking up at him and tightening your fists as he kept you pinned and silently begging for him with your eyes.

He had to let go of one of your hands to guide himself inside, but he interlaced the other with your fingers while he did it— and then, with one strong push, he was fully within you.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, “you feel… different.”

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling a little.  “Uh, different than what?”

Than everyone else.  “I— I don’t know,” he breathed, “I’m not making sense.”

“Not really,” you agreed with a laugh.

“Hard to think straight right now,” he defended.

It wasn’t just that you felt different— it was that this felt different: being with someone he really cared about, that he wanted to impress, that he wanted to see after this was over.

Someone that he never wanted to let go of.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” you whimpered, “fuck, don’t stop— feels so good—”

One of the benefits of making you come on his tongue first was that he knew it wouldn't be that bad if he didn't last too long now— though that wasn't why he did it.  In fact, this was rarely his issue, if anything sometimes he struggled to finish for unclear reasons.

But even if he could get away with finishing quickly, he wanted to make this last as long as he could.  He never wanted this to end, actually.

As he found his pace— not too speedy yet, but with a bit of his eagerness showing— he kissed you again, deeply and hungrily.  He wondered if he'd ever done this before: kissing during sex.  He felt like he probably had, and yet he couldn't remember it— maybe that said more than anything.

This, on the other hand, was very memorable.  He slid his arms under you when your back arched, he held you tight and close and drank in every one of your moans through that kiss.

For how many times he’d pictured fucking you, he never really imagined it like this… and he thought he’d imagined it every way before.  But he realized that he’d mostly imagined it a bit kinker— you riding him, or him fucking you while you were bent over the table in his room, or 69’ing or something.  This was passionate, and sorta slow; this was his hips grinding on yours with every thrust so he could keep rubbing your sore clit; this was making love, he realized— if it wasn’t, he couldn’t imagine what was.

“I— fuck, baby— think I’m gonna come again,” you warned him with the most beautiful whiny sob.

“Fuck, already?” he smiled, and you nodded feverishly.  

“Just… don’t stop, please, just like that— fuuuuck!” you choked, and he gasped every time your walls clenched down on him.

“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck,” he grunted, moving a bit faster and not letting up on the pressure from his pubic bone on your clit, even when you actually screamed under him.  “You’re so amazing, oh god, I—”

He heard it before he said it: I think I love you.  He stopped himself before blurting it out— maybe he’d tell you after, but he wasn’t so far gone to forget that this wasn’t the right time.  You’d think he didn’t really mean it, that it was just the delirium talking from how incredible you felt, but he knew it was so much more than that.

He shut himself up by kissing your neck— not too hard, but plenty to leave a mark, and make you squirm in the process.  Your hands wrapped around his back and your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the pain of it, he couldn’t feel anything but the sticky, resplendent heat of your body.

“So much fucking better than the goddamn dildos,” you said suddenly, and he laughed against your skin.  

“Do you miss all those people watching you come?” he wondered.

“No, fuck no,” you panted, “there’s nobody else but you.”

He couldn’t help but fuck you faster when you said that— you should’ve known better than to stroke his ego that way.

“Fuck!” you sobbed.  “Hector, baby, you’re so— oh god, I don’t know if I can take it—”

“Shh, you can,” he promised, “you can do anything, you can come for me again—”

“Oh fuck, I— I might,” you admitted shakily, “but then I’ll— I’ll fucking pass out or something.”

“No, you’ll be okay,” he promised, cooing at you softly.  “You’ll be so good for me, I know you will— just come for me one more time, baby, tell me what you need to come again.”

“I… just a little time is all I need,” you answered, voice breaking.  “I swear I’ve never— I’m not usually so— fuck, it’s just you—”

“I know,” he assured, loving the way you babbled praises but worried it would distract you from coming again; and if you didn’t soon, there wouldn’t be time before he lost it.  He was already barely able to keep his composure just from how beautiful you looked like this, let alone how you felt.  “I know, just let it happen, I know it’s right there for me— just come for me, beautiful—”

You dragged him down into a sloppy kiss, and he felt it— those incredible pulses inside you, waves of slick coating him until he felt sticky all the way down his thighs; your sobs were more precious than anything he’d ever heard.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he praised, fucking you even faster now as your head fell back limply.  “I can’t h-hold back anymore, I need to—”

“I know,” you said to him this time, “it’s okay, please— want you to…”

“You still— oh my god…” he choked, losing his train of thought for a moment.  “You still want me to come inside you?  Wanna be full?”

“Yes,” you whined, “yes, baby, please— wanna be so full of your come, I want everything—”

"Fuck, okay," he agreed, gasping as he tried to keep up his pace despite the growing pressure inside.  "I'm really fucking close…”

“I’m yours,” you told him again— and then he went from ‘really fucking close’ to ‘already fucking there’.  He came inside you with a long, whimpered groan; his head dropped onto your shoulder while each pump filled you, trying to catch his breath but feeling like he’d never find it again.

Admitting he loved you during sex wasn’t a good idea, but saying it immediately after wasn’t that much of an improvement.  Now, though, he was too exhausted to keep his mouth shut.  “I think I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.

For one incredibly long second, you didn’t react at all.  You looked up at him, and he hesitated to even look back because he didn’t want to see anything less than ecstasy on your face.  “Oh,” you said, “cool.”

He wasn’t sure what reaction he anticipated, good or bad, but it wasn’t that.

“Let me know when you know,” you suggested.

“No!  No— I know,” he insisted, reaching up to hold your face, “I know.  I love you.  I think I did even before you came here, but… it just seemed so crazy.  We don’t know each other as well as we should for that, right?  But I feel it— I feel something that I just can’t explain—”

“Hey, slow down,” you laughed, “I feel it too.”

The way you smiled at him, resting your hand on his chest— was he glowing?  He felt like he was actually glowing.  “Good,” he decided.

“Let’s get to know each other better, then,” you announced.  “Start from the beginning, the whole thing: parents, siblings, school, favorite movies, worst dates, hot dogs or hamburgers—”

“No, you start,” he pouted, “you’re more interesting.”

“Me?  Please, I’m just your average camgirl titty streamer, don’t worry about it,” you scoffed.

“And I’m just some lame old Oscar winner,” he shrugged.

But both of you talked— all night, actually.  You never fell asleep, he was never even that tired— you kept him so full of energy he didn’t even notice how long it had been until the sun started to come up.  And then you kept talking at breakfast.  And then you fucked again, and talked some more after; he knew it had to end, eventually, but he didn’t even want to think about it.  He didn’t want to think about you going home and letting something so perfect end.

He told you just as much on the last night— assuming you didn’t switch your flight home to a later day again.  You’d just been laying in his arms after another bout of passionately desperate fucking, both of you half-asleep but not wanting the separation of even just unconsciousness, and he blurted it out.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded under his breath.  “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know you don’t,” you returned softly.  

“I don’t want this to end.”

You were quiet for a while, turning over on your side to face him, tracing your fingers over his chest gently.  “It doesn’t have to end, just because I leave,” you mumbled.  “I know it’s crazy, but we can be together, even if we’re not… together.  I mean, I’m certainly not gonna be with anybody else—”

“Me either,” he said quickly, before he could change his own mind with the doubts— the voice in his head that said he could never settle down because he’s too fucked up.  “I only want you.”

“It’ll suck, being far away from each other— but you’ll be back Stateside eventually, right?” you assumed.

“God, I hope so,” he sighed, “if the world doesn’t end.”

“If it does,” you whispered, moving in closer, “I hope it’s tonight.  I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else but here.”

It was a romantic thought, but as he kissed you, he realized he’d never wanted the world to end less than he did right now.  He never longed for an apocalypse or anything, even on nights that his doubts and anxieties made him yearn for oblivion just for himself, but just now he could’ve cried thinking about everything falling apart tonight.  Whether it be by fiery explosion or a quiet, instant disappearance, he couldn’t let armageddon happen now— now that he had you.  For the first time, he saw himself having a future, in a way he never had before.  Existing as a ‘celebrity’ meant being on the edge of irrelevance at any moment, knowing this could all go away overnight and you’d just be ‘that guy who was in that thing that one time’.  

But this time, he stood on a precipice of something wonderful, of something natural, and it was the most beautifully terrifying unknown.  It was tomorrow.  Tomorrow, you’d get on the plane; tomorrow, you’d leave, because the world wasn’t going to end tonight.  But his life was going to start tonight, and he didn’t have to face it alone anymore.

what the actual fuck, i don't even like Hop that way but godDAMN😂 it's just gotten to the point dude where frankly, i'd read your grocery lists

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 | dark!jim hopper x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | smoking with eddie was supposed to help you relax... instead, it forced you to decide how far you're willing to go to keep your record clean.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | dubcon/noncon smut (oral m receiving and creampie), slight innocence kink, significant age gap, semi-public sex, kinda mean hopper, handcuffs, coercion, bargaining, abuse of power, very slight/ambiguous eddie x reader if you squint, thicc pre-season 4 hopper the way god intended, slight angst

Eddie did have a tendency to get a little paranoid during a smoke session— a side effect of the product— but maybe you should’ve listened to him this time.

“Do you hear that?” he hissed as you handed the rolled paper back to him.  “Dude, there’s someone out there!"

“Who would be in the woods, this far from town, this late at night?” you rolled your eyes.

Well, the answer to that question is two-fold: stoners, and someone who’s looking for them.

A flashlight suddenly appeared from the trees, and your eyes went wide.

"Shit!" Eddie yelped, jumping up and tossing the joint— even though it was quite too late for that— and starting to run around like a chicken with its head cut off for somewhere to go.  But he couldn't exactly hide behind a tree, because this wasn't a cartoon, and getting back in the car wouldn't really get him anywhere.

So, he ended up basically circling the van and slamming directly into Chief Hopper who looked even more pissed than he had when you first spotted him.

"Uh, hey— funny running into you here, Mr. Chief, sir," Eddie joked as you sighed in disappointment and irritation at his idiocy.

"Get back over there, dummy," Hopper groaned as he shoved Eddie aside, tossing the guy into you— you would've both fallen over if you hadn't basically caught him, and your friend looked pretty disoriented by the whole thing.  

The chief flicked off his flashlight; it wasn’t actually really necessary, with how bright the moon was tonight, but your eyes had to adjust to the dark all over again.

"Two kids smokin' dope in the woods," Hopper observed.  "Munson, this is far from our first conversation— but you—"

He ran his gaze over you as you leaned back against the back of the van, and you felt conflicted about your body's response to his sizing-up.

"I expected better from you."

He reached for the cuffs at his belt, quickly grabbing Eddie by the elbow and turning him around with an unceremonious thud against the van.

"H-hey, not so rough," Eddie chuckled thinly, "it's my first time."

You rolled your eyes; did he always have to make stupid jokes like that?  "It is most certainly not, Munson," Hopper returned firmly.  "And I'm sure the judge will take that into account before he goes easy on you again.  You might wanna practice that 'not so rough' line again before you end up in jail, kid."

Eddie winced, and not from the tightness of the cuffs.  He was finally taking this seriously— finally realizing he was looking at more than community service or a fine this time.  

Hopper stepped up to you next, but you didn't put up nearly as much of a fight— and he was more gentle with you, far more… he even seemed to linger for a moment as he held your wrist.

It was incredibly subtle, but it was all it took for you to know you had a chance.  A chance you were just desperate enough to take.

"Why?" you asked suddenly, heart already racing.

"Hm?"

"Why did you expect better from me?"

There was a silent moment as Hopper considered that question, and Eddie gave you a confused look.

"I heard you were a good girl," Hopper eventually answered.

You smirked a bit, turning around to face the chief with a feigned look of confidence.  "Well, you heard wrong."

"V'never heard of you gettin' in this much trouble before," he replied.  "Not with the law, at least."

"That's ‘cause I don't do bad things to get into trouble, sir," you added pointedly, looking up at him and seeing the look in his eyes change a bit.  "I do bad things to get out of trouble."

You didn't really notice him getting closer until you felt it— felt that gap close as his body brushed against yours, and fuck he was tall 'cause you had to crane your neck all the way back to keep your eyes on his face (though they did briefly dart down to the badge on his chest).

"You know, I never saw you smoke," he noticed, voice lowering.  "Maybe you were just an innocent bystander.  You kinda have that look about you— innocent…"

He ran his finger over your jaw, until he was lifting your chin a little too forcefully.

"I like that," he added.

Your stomach dropped, but you couldn't back away— he had you pressed up against the van, every part of you was at his mercy now, even your freedom.

"Don't fucking touch her, pig," Eddie growled.

"Eddie, shut up," you snapped at him, not wanting him to dig the hole any deeper— or blow your chances of getting him out of it.

“Why don’t you get in the van and mind your own business, son,” Hopper encouraged, stepping away from you to hold up the key for Eddie’s cuff’s teasingly.  “Think you can do that?”

Eddie sneered at first, looking away.  “Ed, please,” you said, a little softer, and he sighed.  Hopper approached Eddie, who looked like he was barely containing his rage and disgust, as the chief unlocked his cuffs less than a minute after he’d put them on.

“Old creep…” Eddie muttered under his breath when he was freed, rubbing his wrists nervously, before he looked at you.  “Are you seriously gonna—?”

"Eddie," you said sternly.  "Get. in. the van."

He groaned but obeyed, walking past you both with a grimace, hopping up in the driver's seat and shutting the door behind him.

"That your boyfriend?" Hopper asked when you were (sort of) alone.

You sighed.  "Just a friend," you insisted.

"Hm," he replied, smirking a little.  "Bet he wants you."

"What makes you think that?"

"'Cause who wouldn't?" he purred.  "Body like this…"

You shivered as his hand ran down your back, slowing down as it slid over the curve of your ass.

"A boy that age would have no idea what to do around a body like yours, honey," Hopper added, humming as he brought his hand back up.  "Need a real man to take care of all this."

"Didn't think this was about you taking care of me, Hop," you returned, raising an eyebrow as you looked up at him with his lip between his teeth.  "Thought it was about working my way out of these cuffs."

He grinned at you, though it wasn't exactly a friendly smile.  "No, baby— the cuffs are staying on."

As he pulled you into him, you felt a firm bulge rub against your hip; you gasped a little, fighting the urge to pull away, and tilted your head back as he leaned down to kiss your neck.  "Eddie, too," you whispered.  "If we do this, no charges for Eddie."

Hopper grunted disapprovingly, but you looked up with him with your best ‘please, Daddy’ eyes and bit your lip slightly.  It wasn't quite enough for him, though.  "What's in it for me if I get your friend off?"

"Whatever you want," you blurted out before you really considered what that might entail— you just couldn't let Eddie go to jail.

He purred and grabbed your ass tighter.  "You drive a hard bargain, honey.  But I can't promise anything until you show me what you can do."

Figuring what that likely meant, you slid down until you were on your knees, keeping your eyes up— on him.  It would’ve been harder to keep your balance with your hands behind your back if it weren’t for the van’s bumper right behind you to lean on.  “Y’gonna get it out for me?” you asked him expectantly, and he smirked at you a bit as he reached for his belt.  

There was something about the way he sighed as he did it, about the way he had to reach under his thick belly to do this, about the way his heavy belt clinked as he opened it… you told yourself this was just about the bargain, but you knew there was more to it than that, on some level.

His cock was only half-hard when he pulled it out of his jeans, but already so thick— you were salivating already, but pretty fucking nervous, too.  It was pretty overwhelming to be confronted with what you were about to do in such an obvious way: it all gets a lot more real when there’s a big fucking cock in your face.

Not wanting to make him wait anymore, you leaned forward and took the tip into your mouth, coating it in your spit as you suckled gently… at first.

He hummed a little— you honestly barely heard it— and stiffened a bit more in your mouth.  Soon enough, it was so big that you had to keep your jaw open wide to fit it, and soreness was already starting to set in.  

When you shut your eyes, it was a little easier; you were a little more confident, and you tightened your hands into fists behind your back to stop them from shaking.  Leaning forward more, you took him deeper until his belly bumped against your forehead.  Why did that make your thighs clench together?

His fingers combed over your hair, not quite guiding your head yet but certainly encouraging you to go on.  "Yeah, fuck, that's good— that's really fucking good, keep sucking, baby…" he mumbled, voice thick and sweet like syrup.  The deeper you took him, the more talkative he got; and when you took him all the way to the base, with your nose buried in a patch of curly hair, he moaned louder than ever.

"Shit," he hissed, grabbing the back of your head when you tried to pull away.  "N-no, stay down, need to feel that throat a little longer, fuuuuck…"

You fought harder to pull back, getting dizzy as your coughs and sputters did nothing to give you air.  Only when tears ran down your cheeks and spots filled your vision did he let go, giving you a chance to break away and gasp for air.

He was chuckling lowly as you coughed, smiling down at you proudly even though you weren't much of a sight right now— face swollen and wet with tears, red eyes (even worse than before), on your knees in the leaves and dirt…

"Stand up," he ordered, and you gave him a confused look as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Huh?"

"Did I stutter?"

"Don't you wanna finish?"

He smiled wider.  "That's cute— you were gonna swallow it, too, right?  And you thought that would be enough?"

You started to feel particularly stupid as he yanked you up to your feet.  There was a long, tense silence as he started touching you again— running his hands slowly over your waist, your neck, your hips… 

He started to slowly push your shirt up, but his eyes stayed trained on your face; you must have looked, for once, as nervous as you felt.

He hummed a little as he got your shirt high enough and tugged your bra down; your nipples hardened right away from the chilly breeze, and he toyed with them for a second with his thumbs before groping your chest more confidently with his whole hands— god, they were big, and strong, just like the rest of him.

After unbuttoning your jeans for you, he turned you around quickly and pressed himself against your backside with a purr, slipping a hand down the front of your pants and into your panties.  “Mm,” he emphasized, cupping you and holding you tightly; still cuffed, the position made your hands grab onto his thighs through his pants.

He groaned as his fingers slid between your lips, and you let out a quiet whimper of your own.  

"Oh, fuck— look how wet you are, sweetie," he cooed beside your ear, starting to rub circles around your clit a bit too roughly.  "You like sucking cock in the woods?  Or is it the cuffs?"

You only whimpered a little as he held you tighter.

"Or," he continued, speaking even closer to your ear until his mustache tickled your skin, "is it whoring yourself for a man twice your age?  Is that what gets you off, honey?"

He didn't wait too long for you to answer— he must've known you weren't going to— before he pulled his hand out of your pants and yanked the denim down.  You felt cold and weird and stupid with your bare ass out in the woods; you swallowed down a lump in your throat when you heard Hop shoving his pants lower, too.  "Do you have a condom?" you asked shakily.

"You think I bring condoms on patrol?  What kind of cop do you think I am?"

My pants are around my thighs, Hop, I don't think you're exactly clean…

"No, baby, we don't need one anyways," he decided, rubbing his head around your flexing hole with a sigh.  "God, it's so wet…"

That was his last warning, if you can call it that, before pushing inside; and you accidentally grabbed onto his shirt when your fingers made fists, the sting of pain making your toes curl inside your shoes, too.  You bit your lip so you wouldn’t be too loud, though… you remembered, for a second, that Eddie would hear if you weren’t careful.  That made guilt churn your stomach even more than the Chief’s hand coming down to spank your ass all of a sudden.

“Damn, s’tight,” he chuckled darkly, groaning as he picked up his pace and held your hips steady.  “Sweet fuckin’ pussy… y’like it, sweetie, y’like being fucked?”

Swallowing, you nodded.  “Y-yeah,” you panted softly.

“Louder, honey.”

“Yeah, I like it,” you replied, a little more confident but not exactly ready to shout it out, either.  “Feels good…"

"Bet you wanna cream all over me, huh, baby?"

Well, that would certainly make this more enjoyable— but you didn't need to, really; the pain of the stretch had finally faded and honestly, you were surprised it happened so quickly.  With how thick he was, you were prepared to struggle longer, but if anything your body was giving in, encouraging him, making your back arch deeper and your walls pulse whenever he filled you to the brim.

His hands reached around to cup your tits, and he moaned louder as he felt you up while he fucked you.  When his fingers tweaked your nipples— not too hard, but still a startle— you tensed up inside; and he noticed.  “Oh, they’re sensitive, hm?  Sweet girl…”

Of course, he just did it repeatedly, and more aggressively, until your legs were shaking and you let out a pathetic whine.  “Chief, c’mon…” you pleaded nervously.

“Chief?  Don’t need to be so formal, honey,” he laughed, leaning in a little closer.  “Just call me Jim, okay?”

You really didn’t wanna do that, and you were having a hard time getting much of anything out now anyways: he’d started fucking you harder, deeper, a lot faster… your head was spinning.  At first you’d really just wanted to get this over with, but right now, you never wanted it to stop.  It was so difficult to keep your thoughts straight, you almost told him that, before noticing what a stupid thing that would be to say—

“Fuck, are you close?” he taunted.

“Don’t stop!” you blurted out.  “Please don’t stop, fuck…”

He chuckled proudly, and yep, it was just as stupid a thing to say as you thought it would be; he sounded way too cocky now, and even the way he moved his hips seemed to be more… gloating, than before, if that’s possible.  “Little slut,” he spat, though the insult sounded just as much like a compliment.

“Fuck,” you whispered again.

“I get it, y’know— you’re young and you need a little rebellion,” he said, and in your current state it really didn’t make any sense.  “But reefer’s not worth the trouble.  Why don’t you just let me fuck you when you’re feeling naughty?”

Right now, that didn’t seem like too bad of an idea; you already got the sense this may not be the last time this happened, even if he didn’t catch you smoking pot again.  That feeling was already swelling up inside you, and your throat was dry from breathing heavily— and nearly sore from moaning, even though you’d been trying to fight it.  Your eyes kept rolling back in your head even when they were shut, which they usually were until he brushed your hair aside with his hand and told you to look back at him.

And damn, he was a sight: that look in his eyes was unforgettable, the strain on his face as he drove himself into you over and over.  The curve of his cock stretched you in a way you’d never really felt before, his grip on you was so aggressive and his pace was overwhelming.  He was right, it turns out, when he said that thing before about Eddie and how you needed a ‘real man’ instead.  You protested to that term, but compared to guys your age, this was entirely different— and better.  And supremely fucked up.  And the best dirty deal you’d ever made.

“I-I’m close,” you finally admitted.

“I know,” he mumbled, “go ahead, baby— just come for me.”

It was the way he said it that shook you so much, unexpectedly gentle after so much gruff mocking; it still took you a few more minutes, but you ended up obeying his command pretty easily.

He felt it when you came, groaning through a smile and praising you in a low voice.  You could even hear it, the sticky sound as your cunt soaked him, and he snarled as he looked down at it— he grabbed your ass and pulled it out of the way so he could watch his cock fill your hole.  “God, that’s perfect,” he announced, “you’re so fucking cute.”

Not really the adjective I was expecting after I came on your dick, but I guess I’ll take it.

“Wanna make you do it again,” he admitted, making you swallow nervously, “but we don’t have much more time… and I’m so goddamn close, fuck, you’re just so tight, honey…”

You whimpered and bit your lip, your post-orgasm haze working overtime to keep your shame at bay— but the clarity was due any second now, and it was hard to ignore who this was when he kept moaning louder and louder, sighing your name, touching you and running his hand down your back and promising to fill you with his load—

Wait, he’s gonna do what?

"Pull out," you whimpered.  "Fuck— pull out…"

He only held on tighter to your hips, driving into you deeper as his head fell back in a grunt.

"Hop, pull out!" you yelped, only for a thick, clammy hand to cover your mouth as he bent down behind you— his forehead rested on the back of your shoulder, each hot breath fanning over your skin.

"God, sorry, I'm sorry," he panted, "need this— fuck, so good…"

You struggled harder, but all your strength was useless compared to him holding you there, keeping you exactly how he wanted you.

"Ah, fuck— you don't need to fight it, baby, s'gonna be so good… your pussy's milking me, c'mon, it's what she wants— she wants to be filled up, I can tell.  You want it, baby?  You want me to come?  Fuck I'm so close…"

He grunted a few more times before he suddenly stopped— his hips pressed forward until he couldn’t go possibly any deeper, then even just a little more after that; he held you tight as a tear ran down over his hand on your face.  Relaxing with a heavy exhale, his grip loosened on you slightly but you were far too weak to fight it now, so you just stayed there: bent over, still crying slightly, with a panting and heavy man just behind you (and inside you) catching his breath.

“Fuck,” he said again, pulling out quickly and letting you go; you didn’t realize how weak your legs were until you had to hold onto the van to stay up, awkwardly lowering your bare, sore bottom onto the small lip of the back bumper so you wouldn’t just fall to the ground.

You were pretty out of it for a minute; the smell of cigarette smoke brought you back to reality, and you looked at Hopper, having a smoke as he looked out into the woods.  He caught you staring, and raised an eyebrow.  “Y’want one?” he offered, and you nodded.  

Fishing the pack out of his pocket, he shook out a cigarette for you, holding it for you to lean forward and capture with your lips.  After lighting it for you, he watched you take a long drag and sigh.

“I’ll take you out of the cuffs in a minute,” he promised, but you’d already kind of forgotten about them.

He did, though; help you out of them, that is, and you were able to get your clothes back in order on your own after that.  You wondered if you should say something, or if he should.  What was there to say?  Thanks for the bribe?  Nice cock?  Pleasure doing business with you?

So, he didn’t say anything, and neither did you.  Until just as he was starting to walk away, and you noticed his flashlight had fallen from his belt onto the ground. 

“Wait,” you said, leaning down to grab it, and when you stood up to hand it back to him, you saw something strange in his expression.  You wondered, for a second, if he’d been hoping for more when you said that.  “You dropped this.”

He took the flashlight and nodded at you.  “Thanks,” he said, and you took the last drag of your lended cigarette as you nodded; watching him leave, you dropped the butt to the ground and snuffed it out with your shoe.

For some reason, you waited a little longer after he left to get back in the van’s passenger side.  Eddie didn’t look at you when you got in, and you didn’t say anything; he just started the van silently and began the drive back to the trailer park.  You were halfway there when you decided you should let him know, “you’re not going to jail.”

“I know,” he replied.

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 - Tom Bennett

Oh boy, this one's...a lot lmao. My first fic of the year and probably the only one for awhile. I was so stoked to write it so hopefully anyone who reads this is stoked about it too. This took so long, especially cause I have a super tedious boring class this semester, hence why I'm not writing as much as I used to. But here it is, primed and ready for ya. Enjoy!

Summary: You and Tom work at the same FBI agency, the both of you having a tense rivalry. Sprinkle a little friends-with-benefits relationship on top of that while going on an undercover mission where you must get along to get the job done, what could go wrong?

Warnings: modern!special agent!Tom Bennet, undercover mission (haha the title, get it, okay..), enemies (?) to lovers/rivals to lovers, more like FWB to lovers, Tom's kind of a dick (so is reader) but like to protect himself (and some misogyny, also to protect himself), smoking, tw guns (violence and injury), slight whump, oo boy this one's gotta lot of gratuitous SMUT (MINORS DNI), dubcon-ish, fingering, forced exhibitionism, public sex (kinda)...on a plane, oral (m and f!receiving), ANGST and feels, teasing, jealousy, possessiveness, kinda toxic relationship, confessions, eventual fluff, light dom/sub vibes, orgasm denial and control, slight praise kink and degradation, conveniences will convenience (all I know about undercover missions is what I watched on White Chicks okay, so don't expect some well thought out plans)

word count | 10.8k (oops)🤙🏻

You weren’t planning on signing up for a high risk mission when you went into your agency’s meeting this morning, but something overtook you when you learned Tom would be going on this mission as well.

You never planned to care about him ever since the two of you got involved. You were just coworkers with a little something on the side, nothing serious. In fact, the two of you hated each other ever since you started working with him. You both always took every chance to one up each other, trying to clamber over one another to get higher rankings in your profession, never hesitant to step on each other’s toes to succeed.

The two of you only started hooking up almost a year ago. You were both drunk, celebrating another hard won mission and it just happened. You both were lonely, your profession not always making it easy to trust someone who’s not yourself. It was purely transactional. But then Tom started being more vulnerable with you, making you laugh and happier than you had been before you met him. It made your head spin. You thought about calling it off immediately, but the sex was just so good, his company even more, and you did actually start to care for the man. 

Though, it made your rivalry at work dial the intensity up to eleven, taking out your frustrations on each other when the sun went down. But the look Tom was giving you after you had volunteered to your director, you had a feeling your benefits relationship might end sooner than you’d like.

After the meeting ended, you walked out with the onslaught of other agents that were desperate to beat the five o'clock traffic to get home. But you were yanked back by Tom, him grabbing your arm and forcing you to trail behind your other coworkers. “Take it back.” He seethed.

“What?” You bit back, your brows furrowing and instinctively trying to pull back from him.

“What? You know what. Tell our director you changed your mind.”

You scoffed, ripping your arm out of his bruising grip. “No, fuck you.”

“You did this to annoy me, I get it. Good job, you fucking succeeded, now take it back. This is my mission. I don’t need you getting in my way.”

“I’m just as good of an agent as you, dickhead. If anything, you’d be in my way. Now stop complaining, cause I’m not gonna change my mind. So, are we done now? Or are you going to continue whining like a little pussy?”

Tom only growled in response as he stormed off, throwing a tantrum like he often did when he didn’t get his way. It didn’t deter you. This mission would do wonders for your career, it would surely boost your rank to a higher level. No amount of whining from anyone was going to make you miss that opportunity.

Suffice to say, Tom didn’t show up for his nightly visit at your apartment. It was probably for the best, he’d just spend the entire time trying to make you quit the mission. But you were too determined, and you weren’t one to chicken out. You needed to prove to yourself that you could take on a mission such as this.

When you came into work the next morning for the debriefing, Tom was standing up against his car smoking a cigarette, clearly waiting for you. You only scoffed and walked past him, but he didn’t take too kindly to that. “Have you changed your mind yet?” He asked as he stood in front of you to block your path, blowing smoke in your face because he knew how much that annoyed you.

“Like I said yesterday, Bennett: I’m not changing my fucking mind.” 

This time when you tried to walk past him, he let you. You could hear him angrily stomping out his cigarette with the sole of his shoe before he sped up to walk beside you into the agency building.

You, Tom, and your handler all lined up in front of your director to go over what the mission would entail. It was intense, the most difficult mission you would probably ever have. You were tasked with helping catch a crime boss. The man would be at a hotel on an island resort in the middle of the Caribbean. Your agency’s sources say that he’s planning on making a big deal in order to gain a new ally. Guns, ammunition, drugs, so many things you both would need to be on the lookout for. It was intimidating to be sure, but not enough to scare you away like you knew Tom was hoping for. No, you wouldn’t give in that easily. You were up for the task. You wanted to do anything you could to put away such an evil man.

But clearly, Tom didn’t notice the pure determination on your face as you walked out of the debriefing. “How ‘bout now?”

“Nope. Stop asking. I’ll keep telling you the same thing again and again.”

“This isn’t some low risk mission, L/n. We’re not trying to catch a fuckin’ lowlife predator here. This is a crime boss. An extremely dangerous man that can have us killed with one word if he even suspects what we’re doing there. Don’t you get that?” Tom whisper shouted, trying not to draw attention to himself despite the outburst, poking into your collarbone roughly.

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“Stupider.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know what I’m getting myself into, Bennett. I wouldn’t have signed up otherwise.” Honestly, it wasn’t the danger of getting killed that made you nervous about this mission, it was the fact that you and Tom would have to pretend to be newlyweds on your honeymoon. A perfect cover for where you two were going. It almost made you laugh.

All your time preparing to travel to this island, Tom would barely talk to you, only glaring at you and giving you one word responses or hums whenever you’d try to talk to him. If he wanted to be petty, fine. You could be petty too, not in front of your boss though, unfortunately. You were sure if your boss knew what you and Tom got up to outside of office hours, he would not be sending you on this mission with him. Although it was well known how you and Tom rivaled with each other throughout the workplace, you had to be somewhat professional, up until you were alone with him of course. You had no idea how you’d be able to share a bedroom with him without resorting to killing each other…or refrain from hate fucking each other. Even the morning plane ride over would be difficult, especially with the way Tom kept looking at you.

“Ya know, it wouldn’t be too late to back out. No one would judge you.” Tom spoke up as you both were waiting to board your flight.

You just kept your mouth shut tightly, just so not in the mood to argue with the man at such an early hour, especially since you weren’t able to have caffeine. You prayed you could just sleep all during the flight without arguing or crying babies. There weren’t babies on the plane, but Tom didn’t seem to notice your purposeful ‘don’t talk to me’ bitch face. Either that, or he just didn’t care.

“I still don’t think you’re ready for this.”

“Did I ask for your opinion, Bennett? No, I didn’t, so shut the fuck up.”

Tom only smirked, smug that he managed to get under your skin once again. “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” He whispered, shaking his head and leaning back in his seat.

“Oh, the feeling is mutual.” 

The animosity didn’t end there like you hoped it would, instead Tom took it upon himself to try to embarrass you as much as possible. You gave him a stern look as you started to feel his hand reach underneath your thin blanket to trail up your thigh. “Do not.” You scowled, trying to push his hand away but ultimately failing. He was too strong.

You inhaled sharply as he cupped your center roughly, wincing before glaring at him. Your glare faltered as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You think you can talk to me that way?” He teased gruffly, forcing his hand in your sweatpants and underwear, a surprisingly soft smile pulling at his lips as he felt the slick that was pooling at your entrance. “Whore.”

You gripped onto his forearm tightly as he toyed with your clit, purposely digging your nails into his skin to try to get him to stop, but all he did was wince and pinch you, causing you to gasp. You quickly put your hand over your mouth and subtly looked around to see if anyone noticed, but everyone seemed to be sleeping or occupied with something else. Truthfully, no one was even thinking of glancing in your direction, but you were so paranoid that you’d be caught. “I don’t want to get an indecent exposure fine, Bennett.” You snarled, trying to come off as angry as you were, but Tom’s fingers had already tamed you into a state of submission as they had done so many times before. It wasn’t any less irritating, but god, he was good with his hands.

You flinched in your seat as Tom pushed two of his fingers inside you right off the bat, your eyes briefly rolling to the back of your skull, trying not to moan by taking slow deep breaths. You were suddenly very thankful that you spent so many of your younger years trying to keep as quiet as possible while masturbating so as to not alert any potential family members in the same house of what you got up to in the privacy of your own room, but this felt way more difficult.

You whimpered into your palm as Tom’s dexterous fingers curled against that sensitive spot along the front of your walls, biting into your own skin to keep your whines in your throat, your brows furrowing obviously to anyone that might pay attention. “Fuck.” You cried softly, looking up at Tom with pleading eyes as your chest heaved against your now suffocating t-shirt. “I can’t.”

“You can, darling.”

To make matters worse, the seatbelt sign turned off. 

People around you started to rise up out of their seats to get stuff out of their carry-ons or go to the bathroom, and the flight attendants started to make their rounds to give the passengers their stupid complimentary peanuts. And of course, a flight attendant peaked around your row with a smile right as you felt your climax grow rapidly. You bit the inside of your lip hard, feeling the metallic taste of blood coat your tongue.

“Hello there, we’re handing out some crisps, pretzels, and candy if you’d like any.” The lady asked you politely, hopefully completely unaware of what was going on beneath your blanket. You quickly shook your head, a pained hum escaping your lips as Tom focused his efforts on your clit. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m okay. Just a stomachache.” You lied, the wavering timbre in your voice bringing a sympathetic frown to the flight attendant’s face.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. I can bring you a Sierra Mist, if you’d like?”

Jesus Christ, lady, just fucking go away. “No, thank you. Really, I’m fine.” You cleared your throat a bit too loudly to cover up an oncoming moan, your face flushing with heat as a couple people from other rows looked over at you curiously.

“Okay. And how about you?” The lady directed her attention to Tom, who did not even attempt to hide his smug smirk. “Would you like any snacks, sir?”

“No, thanks, miss. I brought my own.” Cheeky bastard.

“Okay, well, we’re almost to our destination. So, make sure all your belongings are overhead before we land.” And with that, the flight attendant finally left you to continue suffering.

“I’m going to kill you.” You hissed, slapping Tom’s shoulder as you allowed your head to lean back against the chair as you felt the first pangs of euphoria wash over you. You grit your teeth and leaned forward to cover your face with your hands, hiding your orgasm face from Tom and the rest of the plane. You took shuddering breaths as you rode out your high, tapping his arm aggressively when pleasure veered into oversensitivity.

You felt your ears pop as the plane lowered closer to the ground. You didn’t even realize the pilot had spoken before you felt the plane bank to the right, unintentionally forcing you to lean closer to Tom, whose face you couldn’t even stand to look at. He pulled his hand away from you, making you look at the mess you made on his fingers. You looked away in fury as he started to suck on his fingers, quietly moaning at the taste of you. You could hear his chuckles as you refused to watch him mock you.

“Hope you had a good flight!” The same flight attendant lady chirped as you and Tom exited the plane.

Fuck you, you so badly wanted to say, but Tom didn’t allow that. As if he could sense your hostility (that he caused) and unwillingness to imitate niceties, he quickly uttered out a polite thanks before guiding you off the plane like you were a child who couldn’t take care of themselves.

Man, this was going to be a long, miserable “vacation.”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t impressed with the honeymoon suite you’d be staying in. Though, checking in was a nightmare. You never thought pretending to be all coupley and in love was part of the job description. Alas, you walked into the lobby with Tom’s arm around your shoulder and the two of you wearing the most genuine fake smiles you could muster. One plus was you had already spotted one of the crime boss’ henchmen. 

“Are you sure?” Tom had asked.

Of course you were sure. You had studied every picture of every face the agency presented you with, down to the freckles and moles they may have had. You weren’t going to fuck this up, you’d never live it down; Tom would make sure of it.

You both informed your handler that you made it safely to the resort, already finding evidence that the crime boss was indeed there too. You just had to lay low, look out, and not get caught. This is what you lived for, it was so exhilarating and you wouldn’t let Tom ruin this for you.

“We should head down to the pool, see if we can spot another guy.” You voiced, pulling out your bathing suit from your suitcase, but Tom stopped you by placing a hand on yours. “What, Bennett? We can’t waste time on this.”

“You still haven’t paid me back for what I did for you on the plane.” He spoke with a dark lust in his eyes, his pupils almost completely swallowing his bright blue iris’. 

You rolled yours. “I didn’t ask for that, if you recall.” You said with a scoff and moved to get changed, but he didn’t let you go, instead forcing you to your knees where you found his already hardened cock trying to burst through his tight shorts. You silently cursed to yourself as you already found yourself throbbing at the sight of him looking down at you hungrily.

“Well? My cock ain’t gonna suck itself.”

You resisted the urge to smile, lifting your hand to gently palm his cock through his shorts before tugging them down, your mouth watering as it bobbed up at you. Tom hummed as you licked a stripe up the underside of his dick, even the slightest of approval making you whine as you squeezed your thighs together. 

“Uh, uh.” Tom rebuked, lifting you up from the floor to make you sit at the edge of the king sized bed, forcing your legs apart and standing in between them. “None of that. No pleasure for you. Just be a good little whore and suck me off.” He threaded his fingers into your hair, curling his hand into a fist to tug at your roots, pushing you forward until your lips hit the tip of his cock. On instinct, you wrapped your lips around him and sucked hard, earning a guttural groan from him. “That’s it.” He didn’t hesitate to buck into you, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag just to tease you. He kept doing that until tears were streaming down your face, causing him to smirk. “So pretty.” He whispered, wiping a tear away with his thumb, but continuing to fuck your mouth with little care how you felt.

Meanwhile, you didn’t know if you were crying because his cock kept making you gag or because you had absolutely zero stimulation to your clit. It was throbbing painfully, and Tom still kept your legs apart. Was this still punishment for talking back to him on the plane? He was one of the most pettiest men you had ever known, so you wouldn’t put it past him. But not allowing you to pleasure yourself felt like a new low, even for him.

Your hands gripped onto his thighs, squeezing them whenever you needed a break, him pulling away briefly to let you breathe before slamming back into you again. But he was close, you could tell. The way his moans got louder and breathier, and his hold on you tightened to the point you were almost afraid he’d rip the hairs out of your head. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.” He announced with a groan, stilling in your mouth as his release shot down the back of your throat. 

Tom slowly loosened his hold on you as he tried to catch his breath, petting and soothing the spot on your head where he gripped the hardest. “Okay…” He spoke with a stutter. “Yeah, let me clean up and I’ll meet you at the pool in a few minutes.” And with that, he left you sitting on the bed while he locked himself in the bathroom.

Well, that was a little odd, you thought. But you didn’t think about it any further. You quickly got changed and headed down to the pool, hoping a short dip would rid you of the overwhelming heat you felt in your body from not being able to do anything about your arousing situation. No matter, if Tom wasn’t going to help you out then you’d just get yourself off in the shower that night. You had bigger issues to deal with at the moment.

Scanning over the crowd at the extravagant looking pool, you couldn’t seem to spy any persons out of the ordinary. Just a bunch of families and couples and the occasional old rich woman. Feeling a bit disheartened, you sat down on a poolside chair with a quiet huff, throwing your towel over the backrest and laying out, the sun quickly warming your skin. It felt nice, but it would feel even nicer if you knew you weren’t on the clock.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Tom’s voice jolted you out of your sunbathing intermission, now sporting his own pair of swimming trunks and tank top, any sign of being flustered from your previous tryst was completely gone. Only now, you could tell he was flustered for a different reason.

It probably wasn’t necessary, but you had bought a bit of a slutty bathing suit for this occasion. You figured if on the off chance you had to seduce a criminal, it would be best to do it in an outfit that showed off all your…assets. It definitely seemed to be working on Tom. Maybe it could work on someone else. “My super special undercover swimsuit. What about you, Mr. Palm Trees?” You teased, eyeing his obnoxious colored print on his shorts.

“It’s called looking the part, wife. We’re on our honeymoon, not a dating show.” And with that, Tom lifted his tank up and off himself, the sight of his toned torso making heat flood to the apex of your thighs. He smirked when he caught you staring. “Think you’re drooling a bit, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” You chided, but it only made Tom chuckle. You huffed in defeat, returning to your previous position of subtly checking out the tenants around the pool.

“We should go in.” Tom gestured to the pool, but before you could refuse, “We have to look believable, remember? Who goes to a pool and doesn’t get in the water?”

You couldn’t hide your clenched jaw as you rose from your seat, standing at the edge of the concrete ground and delicately dipping your toes in the chlorine loaded water to check the temperature. It wasn’t too cold, but you’d definitely wanted to slowly ease your way in. Unfortunately, Tom didn’t give you much of a choice, promptly pushing you off the edge. Your body tensed up as the cool water enveloped you, goosebumps rising all over your body as you quickly came up for air, gasping loudly. You wore a deep scowl on your face as Tom’s boisterous laughter polluted the area, able to hear it even when you were submerged. “Arsehole.” You spat, splashing water up at him aggressively.

“So, you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing to me if you had the chance?” He raised a brow, his crooked smile on display, the sight making unwanted flutters swirl in your stomach.

“Touché.” You grumbled. “Still a dick move.” Tom didn’t waste anymore time on land, crouching and leaping into the water, careful not to let the water go above his head. He swam over to you with a mischievous look on his face, and to you, that only meant one thing. “Don’t come anywhere near me.” You warned.

“Oh, come on, Mrs. Bennett. I don’t bite.” He teased, taking your unamused expression as a sign to grab your hips and pull you onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you up by your bottom effortlessly thanks to the water. You had no choice but to let him, not willing to risk your cover. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders reluctantly, trying your best to wear a loving smile on your face. But you soon faltered as Tom leaned in close, his lips right next to your ear. “I know this isn’t what you wanted when signing up for this mission, but you have to at least tolerate it. Behind closed doors when no one is around, you can bitch and whine all you like; but in public, you have to be in love with me.” He pulled away to look into your eyes seriously. “Understand, wife?”

You swallowed your pride and smirked seductively. “I understand, dear husband.” You took advantage of his slight surprise and captured his lips in a searing kiss, the cold feeling of the water not comparing to how heated this kiss felt. Tongue and teeth clashed with each other as you retaliated in the only way you could at that moment, biting his bottom lip hard before pulling away with a sickeningly sweet smile. Tom’s eyes darkened as he gripped your hips tighter, causing you to wince. He looked as though he was going to lean back in for another kiss, but you spotted someone, in the corner of your eye. You hugged Tom, using the position to whisper in his ear just as he’d done to you. “Another henchman.”

“Are you sure?”

“There’s a bulge at the base of his spine, covered by his shirt and jacket.”

“Who wears a jacket at a pool?”

“Exactly. 9 mm is my guess.”

“That’s a lazy guess. Wanna bet? .38.”

“Wow. Guess there’s only one way to find out.” 

“Wait-”

You quickly interrupted him by pushing his head below the water’s surface, ruining his perfectly styled up hair. He came up with a scowl, ready to scold you, but before you could allow him to, you pushed him off and you got out of the pool. Drying yourself off and giving a wink to a now distressed Tom, you made your way to one of the bars that served the hotel guests.

You were a decent actor, but you had no idea if it would be convincing enough to fool the henchman of an intelligent criminal; you had to try, if you wanted to get information early on. The smallest piece of info may help. 

With your margarita in hand, you played oblivious to the figure in your path, knocking into him and hearing the glass shatter on the pavement. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, sir!” You exclaimed, pulling an embarrassed face and getting on your knees to start cleaning up your mess. You hide your smirk as the man quickly stopped you, apologizing for being in your way. You could tell the way his eyes bulged and ran over your body that you made the right decision picking a skimpy bathing suit. Hook, line, and sinker.

“You should watch where you’re going.” The man, who introduced himself as James, said with a smirk, his tone holding no semblance of anger or irritation. “I’m sorry about your drink, maybe you’ll let me buy you another one?” Wow, bold. It made you feel like bile was going to come up your throat any moment, but you plastered on your best fake smile.

“I’d love that. You’re so sweet.” You giggled, “subtly” running your hand down his arm, his eyes piquing with interest.

“I’ve been told that before, yes.” He gently guided you over to the bar, lifting his arm so that it slightly touched your upper back, his jacket lifting just enough for you to be able to see the pistol sticking out of his pants. 

.38. Damn.

Your little acting display got you this far, you supposed you might as well take it up a notch. This man didn’t know how many drinks you’ve already had. Maybe that ruined margarita was your fourth or fifth one of the day. Hell, you were on vacation. So, you decided to be a little drunk as you sipped on your new drink, graciously paid for by a dangerous criminal. “You don’t look like you’re here on vacation, no offense.” You slightly slurred. “I mean, who wears a business suit at a resort?”

James laughed, albeit a bit nervously, but answered you anyway. “I’m not here on vacation unfortunately. This is, ultimately, a bit of a business trip.”

“Meeting with some rich CEOs?”

“Something like that.”

You grinned. “Oh, a mysterious man. I like that.” 

“And why are you here, hm?”

You wore a tired expression, lifting up your left hand to show off the fake wedding ring on your finger. “Honeymoon.”

“You don’t seem to be happy about that.”

You shrugged, taking more sips of your drink, the low levels of alcohol being barely enough to give you that liquid courage you could’ve probably used. “He’s a drag. Boring.”

“Let me guess…he has money.” You gave him a knowing smile.

“Don’t judge. A woman has needs.”

“Oh, I’m sure she does.” He inched closer to you. “But I’m sure he doesn’t satisfy all your needs.” The urge to throw up came back. The idea of being with someone other than Tom made you ill. But you had a job to do, no matter what it takes.

You took every opportunity you could to snoop around that man’s room. He must’ve been one of the dumb ones, you could spot his gun briefcase peeking out from underneath his bed. A rookie hiding spot. You got lucky, really lucky. So lucky that he fell asleep pretty quickly after the fact. Prime snooping time.

Every second that passed, the hammering in your heart grew faster. You rummaged through desk drawers, bags, cabinets, closets; the only thing you found as evidence was a post it note briefly detailing the time and place the meeting with the crime boss would take place. How amazing just a simple little note could have so much power. 

You let yourself smile as you quietly escaped the James’ hotel room, making your way to the elevator and pushing the button to your floor. You could finally take a sigh of relief, the nerves slowly but surely exiting your body; that is, until the elevator doors opened to reveal Tom standing there waiting for you, his body leaned up against the wall opposite of the elevator.

“Had fun?” He snarled with contempt, his lips curled into a malicious sneer, his eyes dark. You rolled your eyes, way too exhausted to deal with his hot and cold nature. You walked out of the lift and tried to walk past him, but he quickly grabbed your upper arm tightly, forcing you to him. “Are you forgetting that we’re supposed to be a couple on their honeymoon?” Tom seethed, loosening his grip on you when he saw the slightly pained look on your face.

“No. I just saw an opportunity to get some intel, which we need if you’ve forgotten.” You snapped back, tugging back to get completely out of his grip. 

“You could’ve done that without fucking the enemy. Jesus, I can smell it on you.” He frowned in disgust.

“It wasn’t even good, if it makes you feel any better. You jealous, Bennett?”

Tom surprised you when he said nothing. No reply, no witty comeback. His frown only deepened as he walked back to your hotel room, not looking back to see if you followed or not. You were almost afraid to, as if you hadn’t just risked your life mere minutes ago. You had nowhere else to go, so you followed, silently watching as he slid the key in and unlocking the door. You both still said nothing as you walked further into the room, taking off your shoes and sitting down on a chair adjacent to the bed.

“I found out where the meeting is going to be, and when.” You spoke up timidly, gaining Tom’s attention, his gaze on you heating up your face.

“You found that out back there?”

“Yep, so you can’t tell me it didn’t pay off.”

He nodded curtly. “Right. Well, I’ll contact our handler and we’ll pass on that information.”

It wasn’t like Tom to be so…compliant. He always had something to say, even when the situation didn’t call for it. You figured he just loved the sound of his own voice for a while. But now he was quiet, stoic, he barely even pitched in when you were talking to the handler about what you found. Was he really that upset that you got info before he did? How petty of him, at least that didn’t change.

“It was a .38, by the way.”

Tom furrowed his brows. “What?”

“That man’s gun. You were right.” He only let out a hum of acknowledgment. “What? You’re not gonna brag like you normally do when you win a bet?”

He shrugged. “We have a long weekend ahead of us. I’m not gonna waste my energy on stupid bets.” He snapped, walking out to the balcony to smoke a cigarette. You huffed in irritation, flopping down against the bed, watching the slow whirl of the ceiling fan.

Tom still was out smoking as you were getting ready for bed, showering and changing into your pajamas with a frown on your face. You quickly got tired of the silent treatment, joining him out on the balcony that seemed to look over the whole resort. “You chain smoke now?” You teased, earning a glare from the man. “Seriously, what’s up your ass, Bennett?” You snickered, stopping with a flinch as he turned to you suddenly.

“Do you realize how stupid that was?” Tom growled lowly, putting out his cigarette angrily and tossing it over the railing.

“You just littered.”

“Jesus Christ!” He grumbled, running his hands over his face in frustration, looking at you in exasperation. “You’re not even listening to me!” He shook you by your shoulders, making you finally start to take him seriously. “You shouldn’t have done that, Y/n.”

You scoffed, pushing him off you. “I got us valuable information. You should be happy, Bennett.”

“Well, sorry, I’m fuckin’ not.”

“Okay, well, there’s nothing I can do about that now. What’s done is done. I’m tired of you being pissed at me all the damn time for doing my job. Just keep being your indifferent self from now on, please.”

Tom growled, pushing you up against the railing of the balcony with a hand on your throat. “You weren’t supposed to be here! But of course you had to be here. Tagging along, like a tick on a fuckin’ dog. God, you’re insufferable.” He ranted, finally letting you go when you didn’t falter, but unaware how hurtful he was being with his words but you only chuckled bitterly.

“Oh, I’m aware. You’ve made that clear ever since we even started this mission. But trust me, I regret it now. If I could, I’d leave this island and never bother you again.” You huffed. “God, do you wanna outrank me so bad that you’d do this mission by yourself?”

Tom huffed. “It’s not that-! Ugh, you shouldn't be here because it’s dangerous! You could’ve died earlier! If that man wasn’t as dumb as you thought he was, he could’ve killed you! Then what would we do? What would happen to this mission, your friends and family, to me?” He snapped, taking you by surprise.

“To you?” You asked timidly, your heart pounding in your chest as Tom’s expression softened at the sight of your unshed tears.

“You think I’m indifferent? That I don’t care about you? I care about you so much it hurts! That’s why I’m livid you came here. If you die on this stupid mission, a part of me will die too. I…it wouldn’t be a life worth living without you in it. I fuckin’ love you, Y/n. Don’t you get that?” He spoke angrily, a deep contrast to the softness of his words.

Your breath caught in your throat, your mouth gaping open but no words seemed to come out, not until Tom looked down dejectedly. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, Tom. It was supposed to be just sex, that’s all.” Your voice betrayed you, wavering and on the verge of spilt tears.

Tom sighed shakily, taking out another cigarette and resting his arms on the railing. “I know…I’m sorry. I should’ve called us off as soon as I started catching feelings.”

You bit your lip, hesitantly taking a step closer to him, mirroring his stance and taking his cigarette from his fingers, bringing it to your own lips. You had stopped smoking a long time ago, but you felt you could have just this one, considering the circumstances. You coughed as the smoke filled your lungs, flinching when Tom gently patted your back, causing him to frown. You sighed, looking at him in pity. “Well…what happens now?”

“I know you hate me, so I understand if…if you wanna call us off.” Tom sulked, taking his cigarette back from you.

You shook your head, looking back over the railing, seeing the moon disappear behind the clouds that drifted by. “I don’t hate you, Tom. I never have.”

He chuckled. “Coulda fooled me.”

“I was an idiot and caught feelings for you too.” You confessed sullenly, hating the way your heart beat against your ribcage and the fire that was lit beneath the skin of your cheeks. You absolutely refused to look back at Tom, whose eyes you felt on you intensely. You couldn’t look into his eyes, you knew you’d break with just one glance, so you kept your gaze fixed on your fiddling hands.

You closed your eyes when Tom placed his hands on top of yours, squeezing them gently to encourage you to look at him. “Y/n…” But you couldn’t. You never opened your eyes, even when you felt his body up against yours, his constant warmth enveloping you and making your body relax despite yourself. His arms wrapping around your waist, his head dipping and his chin resting on your shoulder. “You don’t have to be scared, not with me.” You finally opened your eyes when he lifted your chin, your eyes instantly meeting his and you felt yourself melt against him. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop seeing you, but I couldn’t help it. I care about you too much to leave you alone.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You replied softly, causing Tom to look at you with those big blue puppy dog eyes that never failed to make your heart melt, even when they were filled with fury or irritation directed at you, even when you were often the cause.

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stop Tom from surging forward to capture your lips in a kiss. This one felt different than all the others. You didn’t kiss often, only spur of the moment and they were always rage and lust filled. But not this one. This one was soft and slow, Tom’s lips moving against yours languidly, making sure to take his time. You felt your knees threatened to buckle as his tongue moved against yours, and brought his hands up to cup your jaw lovingly. You weren’t the biggest fan of fairy tales, but this felt like a fairytale kiss you always imagined one to be.

It didn’t take long for Tom to push you back into the hotel room, holding onto your waist until the back of your legs touched the bed. He gently sat you down at the edge, removing his shirt before helping you remove your clothing. You watched with heavy lidded eyes as he got on his knees, running his large hands up and down your upper thighs until you could feel your arousal pooling in your underwear. “Tom…” You whispered as he placed feather light kisses down the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

“Shh.” He spoke before continuing down the path of your legs until he reached your ankles, looking up at you with a crooked smile before pulling your underwear off your body, biting his lip when he saw the state he was able to put your pussy in. “Always so ready and willing for me, huh?” He teased, running the tips of his fingers up and down your slit, causing you to whine quietly. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare try to be quiet. We’re not on that plane anymore. I want you to be loud for me.” He pinched your clit to elicit a cry from you, which made him hum in approval.

“Fuck.” You whimpered as he lapped at your clit, one of his hands holding your leg up and the other using a finger to gently tease your entrance. You moaned and tilted your head back as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, pushing two fingers completely inside of you. You were already so embarrassingly close as you rutted against his face, the way his tongue swirled around you and his fingers curling against just the right spot making your head dizzy. A gasp got caught in your throat as Tom suddenly pulled away and slapped your pussy, the sound echoing loudly around the room.

“You don’t get to come, not yet.” He growled before diving back in, making you keen loudly. The pleasure was so intense you had no idea how you could obey his command. You curled your fingers through his hair tightly, trying to ground yourself and also trying so hard not to lose yourself and come accidentally. “Fuck, your cunt is squeezing my fingers so hard. You’re so close, aren’t you, love?”

“I’m right there.” You sobbed, tears streaming down your face as Tom fucked you hard with his fingers, the borderline pornagraphic sounds coming from your cunt making heat rise to your cheeks. But you were too out of it to care. “Please, Tom, please…”

“I bet that man a couple floors down couldn’t make you feel this way, hm? Was he even able to make you come?” He snarled, his fingers curling against you more aggressively.

“No…” You stuttered with a strangled moan. “It took him—fuck! Took him six thrusts to come.” You chuckled tremulously, unable to stop your moans even if you tried.

“You counted?” He grinned.

“It was hard not to.” You cried out as another pang of intense pleasure coursed through you. You were so fucking close it was painful not being allowed to, Tom completely neglecting your clit even though it felt just as good when he was fingering you. It was too much and not enough. You needed him. You needed his cock. You needed to come. “Please…” You whined loudly, obnoxiously so.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” You nodded frantically. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Tell me, who’s the only one allowed to fuck you from now on? Who’s the only one who gets to taste this sweet cunt of yours?”

“You, Tom.” You howled, his words only adding to your pleasure to your surprise. “Oh fuck, I’m yours, only yours, Tom. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“Good girl.” Tom growled as he grabbed you by the throat and pulled you into a passionate kiss, using the leverage from his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and the grip on your neck to force you back towards the headboard on the bed, only pulling away from you to shed off his trousers and underwear. He was so rock hard the tip of his cock had turned into a lovely shade of pink, the sight making you drool as it came closer to your entrance as Tom crawled on top of you, resuming that passionate kiss. He pushed into you with no warning, splitting you open and causing you to gasp against his mouth, allowing him to bite your bottom lip before pulling away.

The pace he set was different too, just like that previous kiss on the balcony. It was slow, purposeful, and calculated; the thrusts were so powerful and deep that it made the top of your head hit the headboard and your tits bounce violently. His cock stretched your walls so perfectly as it always had, his thickness never the easiest to adjust to, but the slight sting of him made the pleasure all the more intense. You were still so close, but now with no stimulation to your clit, it was easier to hold back.

“You’re so beautiful.” Tom murmured, his eyebrows furrowed tightly in concentration. Even with him being balls deep inside of you, his intense gaze made you feel even more naked than you already were. He never used to look at you this way before, but it was a nice change. He didn’t even try to hold himself back as he picked up the pace, holding you in his arms and rocking you with his sped up thrusts.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” You cried, your moans becoming more breathless and high pitched. “I wanna come so bad.”

“Not yet, love. I want us to come together.” Tom lifted himself up on his knees, grabbing onto the fat of your hips roughly to have the purchase to pound into you relentlessly. He hit the ends of you over and over again, your stomach starting to ache deeply and the knot inside you was tightening more and more, one right move threatening to make it snap. “Fuck.” Tom moaned, his cock twitching inside of you, his body tensing as he got nearer to that edge.

“I want you to come inside me, Tom.” You whimpered, placing your hands on top of his, digging your nails into his skin as your grip tightened.

Tom reached down to rub your clit, the action practically making you scream. You moaned his name over and over again along with taking gasping breaths, your pleasure melting your brain and turning you into a babbling mess. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it, love. Come with me. Please, come with me. Come all over my cock.” You didn’t need any more encouragement for that band inside you to pull taunt until it snapped hard, that wave of ecstasy knocking the breath out of you and making your vision hazy. But not hazy enough to see Tom hit that climax along with you, each of you letting out strained moans as you released together, you soaking his cock and his cum painting your velvety walls. He stilled inside you as you rode out your highs, slumping over and placing delicate kisses all over your neck and collarbone. “Fuck…” He breathed out with a chuckle, pulling out and laying beside you.

“Fuck…” You agreed, trying to catch your breath.

Tom started to reach over to pull you against him, but hesitated when you flinched. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t cuddled after sex, but it was mostly after a particularly rough session as a part of aftercare. You rarely cuddled after a gentle night like this one, especially not after confessing feelings for one another. But your skin already thrummed for attention, for his skin to be on yours even after having sex. It was scary, to open yourself up to heartbreak. But looking at Tom’s painfully hopeful gaze, you suddenly realized you wouldn’t mind getting your heart broken by him.

You reached out to him with a shy smile, allowing him to pull you closer and rest your head on his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He didn’t hide the large grin his mouth broke out into; it was way too endearing. But now, you supposed you’d be seeing those more often.

“We need to discuss our strategy for this meeting.” Tom spoke, breaking the comfortable silence.

You chuckled lightly, looking up at him. “Now?”

“At some point.”

“How does tomorrow morning sound?”

Tom smiled, leaning down to kiss you sweetly. “Sounds perfect.”

The next morning, you woke up in Tom’s embrace. You may have cuddled before, but you had never actually slept together like this all throughout the night, on purpose. You were surprised you had woken up first, considering how much you hated early mornings. Tom was always the early bird, but you had the chance to watch him while he was still asleep. You didn’t think it would affect you that much, but goddamn he was adorable when he slept. The permanent curve of his lips made it seem like he was smiling in his sleep and he looked…soft. Very soft. You always envied his perfect smooth skin, but this was ridiculous. No matter how hard you tried in the past, you could never find a single flaw on his body. It irked you, but you couldn’t stop staring at him, even when he started to stir awake.

His lips upturned in a sly smirk, already smug after a second of consciousness. “Like what you see?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to wiggle out of his grip but he was stronger and kept you in place. “We have a busy day, we can’t lie in bed all morning.” You lightly scolded, pride filling you as you felt his grip loosen, allowing you to rise from the bed. “We should stake out the room where the meeting’s gonna take place.” You spoke, cleaning up and getting dressed, while Tom just watched you as he cuddled a pillow. “Like what you see?” You mocked, smiling when he sneered.

After getting ready for the day, you and Tom followed the instructions that were hastily written on the post it note. The hotel was rather large, but you found the room somewhat easily. It was a conference room on the first floor, occupied with a long table with too many chairs to count. It was empty, or at least it seemed to be. Nor you or Tom saw anyone hanging out anywhere near the room. No guards or people preparing for this possible meeting, but you figured it was normal since the meeting wasn’t taking place that particular day.

“Alright,” Tom voiced, “you keep watch while I set up the bugs. Just signal if you see anyone coming, and don’t hesitate to get the fuck out if anything happens.”

You scoffed. “Like I’m gonna leave you to fend for yourself.” Tom’s gaze softened, causing your face to flush with heat. “Cause you definitely wouldn’t survive without me. You don’t have social skills to get yourself out of trouble.”

Tom rolled his eyes, but you could see a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Right.”

You leaned against the wall opposite of the double doors to the conference room, keeping a sharp eye out from anyone who might’ve been walking your way. You hoped Tom could set up the bugs in time and get out before anyone notices. But it seems the luck you had last night in getting the information ran out as the same man you used started to come walking down the hall. You quickly pressed on your small hidden walkie, hearing the buzz in your ear piece. “Henchman, incoming. I’ll distract him.” You whispered into the mic.

“No, get out of there. Do not engage, you hear me?” You ignored Tom’s frantic orders as you plastered a fake smile on your face, greeting James warmly.

“Well, hi there, stranger.” You teased flirtatiously.

James’ eyes flashed with shock and confusion at first, looking around curiously. “Hi? What’re you doing here?” He asked in suspicion, making your heart hammer in your ribcage.

You sighed dramatically. “The husband isn’t too happy with my disappearance last night. Came here to get a break from his constant glares.”

His face flushed red, smiling nervously as if he just remembered what had taken place the night before. “Oh, right. You didn’t tell him, did you?”

You scoffed. “Of course not. I may be a stunner but I’m not dumb either.”

“I never implied you were.”

You giggled. “I did have fun last night though.” You lied, swallowing the bile that threatened to come up your throat.

He nodded. “Me too. Do you…think we can do it again?”

You smiled sadly. “I’m afraid not. Our vacation is almost over and I don’t want my husband getting too suspicious.” Just then, you faintly hear the creaking of a door opening. From behind the henchman, you spotted Tom’s concerned face. But before James in front of you could react to the noise, you pulled him to you. “But…how about a goodbye kiss? For the memories?” You grinned, capturing your lips with his, a surprised noise coming from his mouth. You opened your eyes and gestured for Tom to get out of there. He gave you one last angry reluctant look before obeying you, running off as silently as possible.

James pulled away with a breathless chuckle. “Man, I will miss these pretty lips of yours.” He wiped his thumb over your bottom lip, making you shiver uncomfortably, but he took it as a good thing. “I hope you’ll be thinking of me whenever you’re fucking your boring husband.”

Not likely, creep. “It’ll be hard not to. Well, enjoy the rest of your vacation.” You blew him a kiss before walking away, trying to calm your heart from beating out of your chest. That was the worst. You wanted to wash your mouth out with soap.

Right around the corner, Tom pulled you to him, making you almost let out a yelp of surprise. “Are you alright?” He grabbed your face gently, looking you over with an adorable concern.

You smiled. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Told you I could get out of trouble better than you could.”

Tom’s eyes darkened. “Well, I’m sure it’s easier when you have these.” You gasped as Tom groped your breasts from over your shirt, making you lightly slap him, but he only giggled mischievously.

“So, did you plant all the bugs?”

“Yep, thanks to you. You gave me more time. I owe you one.”

“You sure do. I’ve had my fair share of that douchebag.” You cringed with a groan, the taste of that man’s mouth still sticking to your lips unbearably.

“Me too.”

You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean you too? You didn’t have to sleep with him.”

Tom frowned. “Yes. But I gotta tell ya, I was mad jealous. I felt like I was gonna punch a wall or something. I almost pulled him off you back there to do exactly that: punch the bastard.”

“Then our cover would’ve been blown.”

He shrugged. “Not if I played the husband role, angry that my wife was with another man. Which…isn’t that far off, if I’m being honest.”

You chuckled. “Well, when this mission is over and we’re back home, you have my permission to punch any guy that tries to hit on me.”

Tom stopped in his tracks, just steps away from your shared hotel room. “Wait…” He suddenly blushed bright red. “Does that mean…I’m your boyfriend?”

You couldn’t stop your own blush painting your face, looking down and smiling bashfully. “I mean, yeah. If you want to be?” Tom grinned widely, suddenly picking you up and spinning you around, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your giggles bounced around the echoey hallway as he placed quick pecks all over your face and neck, tickling you until you gently pushed him off. “Happy, are you?” You laughed in amusement.

“You have no idea.” You may have had an idea…

For the rest of the day and every day after leading up to the actual meeting, all you and Tom did was listen in through the planted bugs. It was surprisingly super boring. Anything heard was very few and far between. Nothing of substance was ever said. All the noises that came from the bugs was the shuffling and creaking of people moving around and moving around furniture you assumed.

Your handler informed you and Tom that a team was being sent in, and your job was to make sure to tell that team when the meeting was well under way and to make sure every person of importance was there so they could be arrested. It didn’t sound like a difficult process, but you made sure to prepare for anything.

The day of, you were loading and prepping your weapons while Tom was listening to the live audio feed, his face in deep concentration. He looked cute and you wanted to say so, but you figured it would’ve been inappropriate at a time like this. An uncomfortable tension filled the air that forced your hands to shake, which couldn’t have come at a worse time. You tried taking deep breaths, but it didn’t work. You hid it as best you could. You and Tom already had gotten into an argument about who was going to be the one to direct the rest of the team where the meeting room was. He did not want you down there, at all. But your stubbornness got the better of you and you didn’t let him win. You’d be fine, you were sure of it. You were going to have to head down to the first floor of the hotel soon, staying with the team until Tom radioed that the meeting was almost over.

“Don’t try to be a hero.” Tom told you. “Self preservation before anything else, got it?”

You promised him, if only to ease his nerves. You weren’t going to make any dumb decisions, that wasn’t like you. But you couldn’t promise you wouldn’t get hurt even if you made the smartest choices, the job couldn’t guarantee it, you knew that. But you’d rather get hurt than Tom, that much you were sure of. 

The shake of your hands stopped as you loaded your gun’s magazine, just as Tom turned his head to you and nodded. “Be safe.” He spoke, his brows furrowed in worry.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I will. I’ll see you soon.”

“You better.”

You shook off your nerves and exited the hotel room without another word or glance back at Tom, leaving him and praying you’d see him again, maybe take him on a proper date after all this nonsense was over.

You met up with the team, and they gave you your own bulletproof vest in case things went sideways. You briefed them on where this meeting was and how to get there, pointing to the place on the map of the hotel layout. And after almost an hour of standing around and waiting for shit to hit the fan, your walkie finally sounded off and Tom’s voice spoke over the radio. “They’re starting to trade.”

That was the cue.

You and the team went out, speeding down the halls to the conference room. You could feel your heartbeat in your pulse as the doors were kicked open, threatening yells and weapons being pointed, but the crime boss ordered his henchman’s weapons be pointed back at them. That’s when shit finally hit the fan.

You ducked as bullets went flying across the room, at everyone on either side, the shots echoing loudly and making your eardrums ring. You didn’t let it bother you as you were preoccupied with finding cover, getting your own weapon out and finding a target. You never thought your life would come to this, taking another human being’s life. But it was either you or them. It was at this moment you wondered if you ever should’ve joined this field in the first place. A bullet flying way too close to you snapped you out of those thoughts, forcing you to shoot back. You locked eyes with a familiar face, one you hoped you’d never see again. But of course it was him, James. You watched as the man’s face furrowed in anger, clearly fooled and feeling stupid himself. He should’ve known something was off about you, but too little too late.

The shooting suddenly stopped as the crime boss yelled out in surrender, holding his hands up above the table he was hiding behind, telling his men to stop their own firing. Your team shouted at everyone to put their weapons down and put their hands up, and they all complied fearfully. Your team came out from their cover as the dust seemed to clear, moving to finally apprehend these people. You watched, trying to calm your heartbeat as you felt relief wash over you. You did it, you and Tom. You almost couldn’t believe it.

Just as you realized everything was going to be okay, three shots rang out.

Before you could comprehend what had happened, you were on the floor. Pain surged through your entire body, making it difficult to find the source of the pain. You groaned as a team member ran to you, getting on their knees and quickly putting pressure on what you figured was a bullet wound. You struggled to lift your head to figure out what exactly happened, and you managed to see James on the floor dead, bleeding a puddle of blood beneath him. Karma’s a bitch, you thought. You didn’t think fucking him for information would come back to bite you in the ass, but here you were, bullet not in your ass, but your shoulder. The two other shots thankfully hit your vest, but it still hurt like hell. The bruises you felt instantly forming from those other two shots made you wince, more pressure being added from your comrade making you cry out.

“Shh, don’t move.” The person above you spoke. “Medic!”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You grunted.

From another room, you could hear angry shouts, immediately recognizing the voice as Tom’s. Man, he was going to be pissed at you. But you found it hard to care as you felt blood leaving your body in copious amounts, even with the multiple hands putting pressure on it and miles long amount of gaze being stuffed onto your shoulder. “We need to get her to a hospital now.” The medic spoke urgently. You felt like a loser as your vision started to dim, trying your best to keep yourself awake. But it was out of your control.

Everything after that was a blur. You could hear the sound of sirens, lights flashed above your fluttering eyelids, the smell of cleaning supplies and chemicals making its way into your nostrils, the feeling of a warm hand holding yours. You couldn’t make any sense of it, not until you finally regained full consciousness laying in a hospital bed.

Your eyes squinted as you tried to adjust to the light, even if they were dimmed for your sake. You moaned as you tried to sit up, but you were quickly held in place gently. “No, no, don’t try to move.” The anxious tension in your body alleviated slightly as your eyes landed on Tom’s face, a weak smile coming to your lips. “The doctors said you can’t move yet.”

You inhaled deeply, despite the awful smelling chemicals of the ER. Your mouth was horrifically dry, your lips chapped and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Water.” You choked out, cringing at the hoarseness of your voice. Tom helped you take a few sips of water, which made you feel so much better but also embarrassed that you couldn't even help yourself at that moment. “What happened?”

Tom’s lips upturned in a wry, amused smile. “You were shot.”

You scoffed, chuckling lightly even though it hurt. “I know that. I mean, what happened after I blacked out. I don’t remember, obviously.”

Tom lost his weak smile, grabbing and holding your hand. “Doctor said the bullet hit your brachial plexus. You had to go into surgery to repair it.”

“Well shit, that doesn’t sound good. I’d be more upset if I knew exactly what a brachial plexus is.” You joked, which earned a reluctant chuckle from Tom.

“It’s nerves that allow your arm to move, basically.”

“Oh…” You frowned. “That is bad.”

“...yeah.”

“Well? Did the doctors fix it?”

Tom’s eyes briefly lightened up and he nodded slightly. “They did. They got you to the hospital fast, thankfully. But it looks like you’re gonna be out of commission for several months while you recover, lots of physical therapy and bedrest.”

You groaned. “Ugh, not bedrest.” Tom sighed in exasperation, putting his head in his hands. “Tom?” You tried to reach out for him as you started to hear soft sniffles, coming out muffled from behind his hands, but it sent a spark up pain through your body. “Tom, come on, look at me.”

Tom’s eyes were a bright blue from the tears that were flowing down his face. He looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally. “You lied to me. You told me you were gonna be safe.” He exhaled a shuddering breath.

“I was…until that asshole decided to get revenge on me.” You slightly chuckled, but Tom’s frown only deepened. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you to worry. It’s just…this is part of the job. There was always a chance I’d get hurt, any of us.”

“That’s exactly why I wanted to be down there and not you.”

You shook your head, well, tried to. “No. I’d have rather died than put your life in danger.”

Tom scoffed angrily. “Why? Why do that?”

“Because if you died…a part of me would’ve died too.” Your voice wavered, unwanted tears spilling over and falling down your cheeks. “I love you too, Tom.” You looked away from his intense and unwaveringly loving gaze, too overwhelming to handle. You sniffled. “I’m sorry if that’s selfish of me. But I simply care about your life more than mine…I’ve never felt this way before, about anyone. It’s terrifying.”

You looked back at him as he took your hand with his, running his thumb over your slightly bruised knuckles. “I guess I’m selfish too, because I feel the same way. Which is why I’m fuckin’ pissed at you.” He spoke, but his tone held no semblance of anger and his gaze was just as loving as before.

You couldn’t help but smile. “You can’t be mad when I’m injured.” You teased, causing him to roll his eyes and look down to hide a grin of his own. “Can’t complain when you’re taking care of me either. You have to listen to my every demand.” You giggled.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” He raised a brow, making you blush furiously.

“Uh, I, um, only if you, uh-”

Tom interrupted you with a laugh, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “Of course. Besides, you couldn’t keep me away even if you tried.”

“That’s good to know.” Then you realized, “Hold on, wait. How’d you even get in here? Isn’t visiting for family only?”

Tom smirked as he held up his left hand, the fake wedding ring still on his finger. “Can’t keep a husband away from his wife, can they?”

uh...kinda overdid it, didn't I? oh well haha