As I combed my hair, I began to think of all the things that could go wrong.
"Y/N, it's gonna be fine. I've met them once already." I heard Timothée say from the doorway.
"I know, I know. It's still fucking nerve racking." I sighed, setting my brush down on the counter.
I looked over at Timothée, who was leaning against the wall, watching me.
"They're just... I don't know." I said, walking over to him and giving him a hug.
He kissed the top of my head, and hugged me back. "That's the way parents are supposed to be." He reassured me.
I backed away from him, nodding.
"That's my girl." He said, grinning.
The truth was, things weren't always good with my parents. They were never really good, actually. The bad situations were just dealt with.
My dad hadn't always been the best guy, and my mother not always the best girl.
They both had their problems, big and small. And they still made it work. Even if they both really hated each other.
I continued to get ready, resenting my upcoming doom.
Once Timothée and I had left the house and gotten in the car, my heart was beginning to beat faster the usual.
Timothée could always tell when I was nervous.
"It's gonna be fine." He whispered, taking my hand and kissing it.
I breathed in slowly, then nodded. He held my hand the whole way to my parent's house.
When we got up to the door, Timothée knocked on it, as he held my hand with his free hand.
It was my mother who opened the door.
"Hi, Y/N." She said, smiling, giving me a quick hug.
"Hi, mom." I said, patting her on the back.
I made eye contact with Timothée, and he gave me a little thumbs up. I stifled my laughter as I pulled away from my mother's grasp.
Walking into my childhood home was an odd experience. I hadn't been there in so long.
I visited my parents very rarely, and the last time was when my aunt passed away. So maybe that couldn't even be counted as a visit.
As we turned the corner into the kitchen, I saw my father preparing some food for all of us.
"We've missed you, Y/N." My dad said, giving me a pat on the shoulder. He wasn't never much of a hugger.
"Hello, Timothée. It's nice to see you again." My dad said, shaking Timothée's hand.
Though my father's voice was monotone and disingenuous, Timothée smiled.
"You too, sir." He said to my father, then slowly stepping back.
"It's time to eat. Why don't you go sit down?" My mother said, turning to my father.
My father sighed, and I followed him into the dining room.
I sat next to Timothée, and my father sat across from us.
"So, how's the acting job? Is it still working out?" My father asked, staring at Timothée.
Timothée smiled. It was almost like a grin. "Yes, sir. It's going very well."
At this point, I could tell that Timothée was starting to get cocky, more dominant towards my father.
Sure, nobody wanted to take my father's shit, but everyone was always so intimidated by him. Nobody can ever get through a conversation with him without stuttering at least once.
Just then, my mother came to sit down at the table. She brought over a plate carrying our dinner.
"So how've you both been?" My mother asked, serving herself from the plate.
"It's been good. I had a presentation recently that went very well." I said, starting to tap my foot.
Timothée grabbed my hand from under the table, and squeezed it a few times. He could tell I was nervous. I squeezed his hand back.
Timothée let go of my hand, and rest his hand on my thigh. I looked over at him, a warning signal.
"Your uncle is doing well." My mother said suddenly, taking a sip of her water.
I didn't like the way she brought those things up.
"That's good." I said.
Timothée's hand moved up my leg a little, and closer to my inner thighs.
I sighed softly, giving him a fake smile. He was really asking for it. I squirmed around in my seat.
Timothée brushed my dress up slightly, moving his hand directly to my core. I shuddered at the sudden touch.
"Are you alright, Y/N?" My mother asked. All I could do was nod, because Timothée's hand was moving my underwear to the side, beginning to play with my clit.
No matter how terrified and angry I was that he would try this shit in front of my parents, I liked it. And he fucking had me.
"Anyways, your uncle has been going out again." My mother said, setting her drink back on the table.
That's when Timothée slipped one finger into my entrance. I gasped softly, blinking a few times.
"I have to go to the bathroom." I said suddenly, maybe a little too loudly, for it surprised everyone at the table.
Except Timothée. He grinned, trying not to laugh.
I speed-walked to the bathroom, slamming the door. I breathed heavily, the arousal I had becoming unbearable.
I smiled a little when I heard a knock at the door. When it was opened, I saw Timothée standing there.
"What's wrong, baby?" He asked me, suppressing his grin. I was giving in to him. He knew that I wanted him.
"What's wrong? What's wrong?" I asked, looking up at the ceiling and rolling my eyes.
Timothée lunged at me, pressing me against the sink. He kissed me, and I moaned softly when I felt one of his legs between mine.
He began to kiss my neck, right under my ear. I threw my head back, running my hands through his hair. I wrapped one of my legs around his waist.
I whimpered as he found the button of my jeans, helping me take them off.
"Hush, baby. You have to be quiet, okay?" He said to me, taking off his own clothes.
Once we were both naked, Timothée put me up onto the bathroom counter.
The counter was cold against my skin, I gasped with shock, but I also loved it.
"I need you." I whispered into his ear, running my nails down his back, leaving bright red marks.
Timothée moaned, his lips crashing against mine once again.
He slid into me slowly, and I gasped, pushing my head into the crook of his neck to silence my moan.
"How's that, baby?" He asked me, thrusting into me, so slow that it was making me ache for him.
"Faster." I stuttered, almost completely out of breath.
And so he moved faster. His hands traveled to my hips, and he kept one hand on my ass.
"God, yes. Fuck, right there." I moaned, while he thrusted into me, to the perfect spot, right where I needed him.
"You like that?" Timothée said, chuckling softly. I was a mess. And he fucking loved that.
"Yes. Yes, sir." I moaned, letting my head fall back against the mirror over the counter.
"What'd we talk about, hm?" Timothée asked me, pounding into me, just much slower now. I could barely handle it.
"I-I have to be quiet." I said, remembering the rules. My parents were right outside. This was dangerous. Anything could happen. And oddly, that excited me.
"That's right. Good girl." Timothée growled, now going fast enough to satisfy me.
I felt my climax coming, and I gripped at Timothée's shoulders, whimpering.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." I cried, maybe a little too loud, which made my heart pound.
And with that, I went over the edge. I moaned, and Timothée brought his hand up, covering my mouth.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my chest heaving, determined to be quiet enough so my parents wouldn't know.
Timothée came right when I came down from my high. He kept himself together, closing his eyes, his breathing becoming heavier by the second.
Though he was better than me, I could tell that it was hard for him as well.
When he pulled out, I let my body lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath.
Timothée cleaned himself up, then put his clothes back on.
He grabbed a washcloth from inside of the shower, and I moved over so he could run it under water.
He bent down to clean me up, and I winced as the cold towel touched my core.
"Sorry." He whispered, giggling. I smiled, opening my eyes.
I hopped down from the counter, and got dressed. I was afraid to go back into the dining room.
We both walked slowly, quietly. My parents barely acknowledged us as we sat back down at the table.
And now that I was relaxed, we could have a nice dinner with my parents.
fuck me.
im going to hell.
the-queenie this is your request. enjoy!