Tomorrow Never Knows: Part 1

Avengers Tower

Peter

Peter Parker has never felt more afraid, or more determined than when he was watching over his ailing, vulnerable sister. So afraid because of how sick she appeared, how weak and scared she truly was beneath the brave and tough exterior she showed the world. Determined because of the realization of how courageous she is despite her fear. To push it all back and stand tall against those who would hurt her in order to protect him. It was amazing, inspiring, and Peter fully intended to return the favor.

It was only a matter of how.

For hours and hours Peter sat in the brown leather chair at Violet's side, resting a comforting hand on her arm, and watched over her whimpering, fatigued form. More than once tears overtook him, shame filling his chest as a result. Other times he was able to beat them back, determined to remain strong. How many times was she at his bedside and watched over him while he was in heat or sick in the hospital? Of those times, did she ever give into her overwhelming emotions and cry like an idiot just because he flinched in his sleep?

Peter breathed deeply, calming his nerves the best he could. He couldn't lose it, not again. FRIDAY already threatened to bring Tony in if he couldn't handle this. He insisted he could, even when Clint scoffed from his renewed perch on the couch after barely dodging Ms. Romanoff's near fatal throw to his head. Peter was tempted to throw something else at his head, but he didn't think it would have the same effect. In the end it didn't matter. Both Mr. Barnes and Ms. Romanoff agreed with Peter, hence why they bothered going to the living area instead of immediately taking her to the bedrooms to "take care of her".

Their decision was probably the best one anyone could have made for Violet.

Peter felt even more shame at the thought of Darcy slipping drugs into Violet's drink and he had no idea. How could he have not guessed it? He and Violet have partied and drank together many times, and not once did she ever get violent. Granted he wasn't the violent type either and all three of them made a shattered mess in the living area, tied up Wanda and Jarvis, and who knows what else? They could have broken FRIDAY by accident and that's how the intruders came in. That's how messed up he was last night.

That's how messed up he is now.

Most of last night is a complete blur to him, to the point where he believed Darcy might have drugged him too. Tony had his blood taken so they could run a drug test as a precaution. Peter didn't mind because he didn't trust Darcy, and he was going to make sure Violet never hung out with her again. It didn't matter if Violet knew about the drugs because Peter highly doubted Darcy asked her if she wanted her drink to get spiked. It didn't matter because Violet didn't give her consent and Darcy did it anyway. Therefore, Peter didn't want someone like that in either of their lives.

Though he was going to talk to Violet about it first. Making choices for her was the equivalent of what Darcy did, and Peter couldn't bare to do that to her. Violet more than deserved to voice her opinion and have her choice matter. Not a day would go by where Peter would ever take her decision away. Ever.

Violet flinched again, released another soft whimper from her chapped lips. Peter almost started crying, full on ugly crying with the snot and splotchy red face. He tried giving her water, but she wouldn't take it. He couldn't force it on her, it had to be her choice. She kept mumbling in her sleep, but he couldn't discern what she was talking about. He'd catch a random word here or there but none of it made any sense. He tried coaxing her, even tricking her, but short of forcing her she just wouldn't take it and Peter refused to force it on her.

He rarely took his eyes off her and refused to go to sleep until he could see that she was alright. He listened in through the open doorway to his room at the bustling sounds in the hallway. Heard the screams from the Med Bay as Dr. Betty's baby was born into the world. That was where Tony was now. Most of the Avengers were in the Med Bay helping calm Dr. Banner and or assist Wanda in delivering Dr. Betty's baby. The only ones that weren't there were Mr. Barnes and Ms. Romanoff. He had no idea where they could be.

He had a feeling that perhaps he didn't want to know where they were.

The only constant companion he had for the long, seemingly unending time watching Violet was FRIDAY. She kept him updated on Violet's progress, kept a close eye on her vitals and collected data on her current state. Both Peter and FRIDAY learned a lot of things about Violet during that time. She had an iron deficiency, multiple cracked teeth and a hairline fracture in two ribs on her right side, multiple contusions throughout her body, and dehydration. On the bright side, the effect of the drug in her system is almost completely gone. The sweating has stopped, her rapid heartbeat has ceased, and she was no longer suffered from delirium.

All in all, she would make a full recovery with the appropriate care.

Peter had no idea what time it was when Tony made his presence known. With a soft clearing of his throat, Peter turned to see the man leaning against the threshold of the open doorway leading in and out of his room. Brown eyes crinkled with concern; calloused hands shoved into his dark track pants.

"When's the last time you've slept, Peter?"

"When did we wake up in bed together?" Peter retorted, turning back to Violet, shame filling his chest as he remembered what he and Tony did that led to them sleeping in the same bed. Felt like a hundred years since that point, when really it wasn't even two days.

Tony sighed, "Peter, do you know what time it is?"

"Time for you to leave. I don't want Violet to wake up to see you, or any Alpha's face." Peter responded bitterly; gaze focused on Violet's sleeping form.

"It's 8:00 at night," Tony returned softly, patiently, "approximately 36 hours you've been awake. 36 hours since you've had time to rest and relax."

"36 hours since I foolishly believed I might be safe with you," Peter countered, "since I believed you were better than the cruel things I heard about you. I was wrong."

"All will be explained in due time," Tony replied, that same patient tone in his voice, "but first you need to rest-"

"What I need is for you to leave," Peter interrupted, raising his voice slightly, "and to leave us alone so I can care for my sister."

Tony sighed once more, "I can't do that, Peter."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both," Tony responded quickly to Peter's angry retort.

Peter gritted his teeth, "and why is that?"

"Because Barnes and Romanoff are on there way up to collect Violet and take her to their room, and they're not in the mood to be trifled with."

Peter froze at that, eyes widening in horror. No. They couldn't be. They wouldn't do that to her in this state, right? They weren't that cruel?! Right?! The memory of Kilgrave crossed Peter's mind, and immediately sent him into a panic.

He jumped to his feet, intending on pushing Tony through the threshold of the doorway and shutting it closed, locking and blocking it with anything he could find in the room. Unfortunately, Tony was no longer in the doorway. He had silently walked in to stand behind Peter, and as Peter jumped to his feet and turned to force Tony away, he was promptly caught in Tony's inescapable embrace.

Peter gasped and tried pulling away, but Tony muscular arms lifted the Omega into a fireman's carry and began walking him out of the room. Though momentarily stunned, Peter eyed Violet's sleeping form as he was swiftly carried out of the room and was momentarily inspired. He did something along the lines of what he thought Violet would do, fight back.

Pounding on Tony's back with all his might, Peter struggled and flailed about in Tony's arms, determined to get away from this man and protect Violet from the others soon to come. He tried and he tried, crying out to Violet and pleading with Tony to stop. It was no use. Tony was too strong, and before long Peter was swiftly carried out of his room and into the long, elegant halls leading to Tony's room. He never realized how close his room was to Tony's. A troubling sign of what was to come.

"Put me down! Let me go!" Peter yelled at the Alpha, still beating on his with the little strength he had.

Tony ignored him, and within another minute the door to Tony's room was kicked open.

"FRIDAY, close the door and lock it please."

"Yes boss," FRIDAY responded.

Peter watched the door in absolute horror close shut on FRIDAY's command, feeling more than hearing the sharp clicks as the locks were turned, trapping him inside. Oh God, please don't let this be happening. Please let this be a terrible, drug induced dream. Don't let this be true.

Finally, Tony released Peter. The moment the doors were locked, and Peter couldn't run away, Tony leaned forward slightly and placed the Omega on his feet. Peter tried to run, but Tony grabbed him by the shoulders, turned him sharply, and shoved him against the wall. He pressed his body against Peter's, caged Peter in with his muscular arms, and pressed his forehead against Peter's.

Peter started whimpering, struggling to free himself from the cage, but his attempts were meek, paling in comparison to his earlier attempts. Tony breathed deep, taking in Peter's frightened scent while Peter was blasted with Tony's protective Alpha pheromones. Motor oil, iron, scotch, and smoke made up his Alpha's scent, and Peter once again felt so lost in it. It reminded him of the times they spent together tinkering in the lab, of the experiments Peter did in the University lab, and all the times he needed to fix the TV or any of the electronics that broke down at his Aunt and Uncle's place.

It made him think of home.

As much as Peter hated to admit it, the scent instinctually calmed Peter down. Tears fell down his face, his hands rested on Tony's chest, his will crumbling to dust. Tony kissed Peter's tears away, lapping them up before taking in Peter's lips with his own. Peter reciprocated, getting so lost in the scent of home he didn't realize Tony's hands had moved from the wall and were slowly caressing his body.

His kisses became more insistent, and Peter tried to keep up with the increasing pace Tony was exhibiting. He felt those calloused fingers trail down his chest, felt them shift to his sides and trail lower, but none of it registered in his mind. Nothing mattered except the wonderful kisses Tony blessed him with. He knows he shouldn't be enjoying this, knows he was needed elsewhere, but Tony smelled so good. Everything felt so good.

Then Tony's hand dug into Peter's waist while the other slipped into his pants, into his boxers, and grabbed hold of his dick.

Peter let out a cry of panic that was muffled by Tony's mouth, eyes shooting open and body tensing painfully. Tony shoved him more firmly against the wall, nipping at Peter's bottom lip, and gripping Peter's cock tightly, yet not painfully. Peter started hyperventilating, completely trapped in more ways than one as Tony pulled back slightly.

"It's okay," he whispered huskily, returning to kiss Peter fervently. "It'll all be okay. Just breathe baby, just breathe."

And Peter did. What else could he do? He was frozen in terror and lust, dazed and lost in his Alpha's scent, and so confused as to why he was feeling these warring emotions. Shame for giving in, anger for being weak, warmth and relief from the arousal, fatigue from lack of sleep, fear from this entirely sudden situation, and the abrupt lust that filled his senses as Tony started moving his hand. Sliding up and down Peter's cock.

It wasn't very big, Tony's big and calloused hand wrapped around the entirety of it, but Tony knew how to make good use of it. Thumb massaging the tip, using the pre-cum as lubricant for the rest of Peter's length, and he went to town on it. Tony's scent retained its protective nature but changed into something stronger as he became more aroused. Peter felt his head tilt back, all the things Tony was doing to him made him weak with lust. If Tony hadn't been holding him up, Peter would have melted into a puddle on the floor.

Peter started moaning, unable to stop it no matter how hard he tried. He shouldn't be enjoying this, so why was he? Why did this feel so good? Tony stuck his tongue in Peter's mouth, seemingly intent on claiming each and every part of the Omega. He increased his pace on Peter's cock, forcing Peter to moan louder as a result. Shivers overtook Peter's body with how good it all felt.

"That's it baby, just like that." Tony groaned against Peter's lips. "Just relax, breathe me in."

Peter did as commanded, too aroused to do anything else. He leaned into Tony, grabbing his shoulders to steady himself, hips thrusting into Tony's hand. His mind tried shouting at him, but his sense was gone. Whoosh! Out the window it went and into the street to get run over by the nightly traffic. All he knew was pleasure. All he felt was Tony's hand sliding up and down his length, hot breath on his skin, Tony's lips claiming his own, and the Alpha's muscular body pressed against his own. All he heard were his moans and Tony's grunts.

Then a new sensation arose. Something building in his groin. Something warm, powerful, overwhelming. Peter's breathing sped up, his hips moved faster, hands latching onto Tony and pulling him closer, kissing him deeper.

"Good boy," Tony praised, matching Peter's pace with his hand, "go ahead baby. Cum for me."

And Peter did. With a few more thrusts, Peter screamed. A pool of wet warmth shot out of him into his pants and into Tony's hand. He screamed his pleasure, Tony capturing his moans with his mouth as he continued lazily kissing Peter. Together they rode out Peter's orgasm, and together they stayed once it was done.

"Why . . ." Peter started, panting against Tony's lips. "Why would you do that?"

Tony kissed once more, long and ardently, before pulling back, "you're my Omega. My chosen. No one will ever hurt you; no one will ever touch you, and no one will ever take you from me."

Tony's hand released his death grip on Peter's waist and lifted Peter's chin with it, eyes now gazing into the bloody red of the Alpha in front of him. Peter's knees went weak, almost cumming again with how possessive his Alpha was over him. Tony's calloused fingers gripped Peter's chin tightly, caging him once more.

"I know you're scared; I know you don't trust me very much right now, but I promise you that you and Violet are in no danger of me, or any of the team. You both belong here. You're both home. If we must spend the rest of our lives proving that to you, then so be it, but remember this. The world doesn't get have you, either of you. You're mine, she's theirs, and nothing will ever change that."

Tony kissed Peter again, and Peter kissed him back.

Avengers Tower

Violet

For the first time in a long time, Violet didn't dream. No nightmares to wake up screaming to, no visions of long-lost loved ones taunting her or breaking her heart. Just darkness. Comforting darkness that swept her up like a blanket and held tight as she finally rested. Violet wasn't done fighting, not by a long shot, but even she needed a break from time to time. After everything that happened in the past couple of weeks, and what would inevitably happen in the weeks to come, she needed the soft moments to recuperate when she could.

She didn't realize how much she needed it until she, at long last, woke up from her dreamless sleep. With a groan and a stretch, she came to two realizations. One, she was hurting bad, like really bad. Second, she was tied up again, and wasn't alone in the room. She was lying on a bed, and there was a dip in front of her waist along with a strange heat that could only come from the warmth of a human being.

Please let it be Peter. Please let it be Peter. Please let it be Peter. Violet chanted to herself repeatedly. She took a deep breath, preparing for the worst while hoping for the best. Maybe it was Peter, sitting there and staring at her with his tearstained face and a hopeless look in his eyes. He was far too empathetic to appear any other way.

Tentatively, she opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was the rope that bound her hands together a few inches in front of her face. Black hemp rope, which she only knows from Peter and his kinky preferences during his heat, with a double column style where the knot was hidden instead of residing on top. Not good for Violet who really wanted to escape, and with the knot hidden it made her planned attempt a hell of a lot harder.

The next thing she noticed was that not only were her wrists bound together, but the same style rope was used to attach her bindings to the gold metal bed post. What is it with the Avengers and gold? Greedy much? She gave it a tug, wincing slightly as the rope dug into her skin. Of course, they'd use to scratchy kind, people preferred the softer rope. He liked being restrained, not being hurt.

Then she saw the blood drops on the white bed sheets almost directly in front of her. Definitely not a good sign. Instinctually her gaze followed the drops down the sheet, and instantly she regretted it. The drops led to where Violet felt the dip in the bed. The dip caused by a nearly naked Bucky staring down at her with silver eyes, eyes like daggers as he took in the bound Violet lying next him.

Violet gasped in fear, eyes widening in shock and panic catapulting her body into action. Or it would have if the knots had been done by someone with far less expertise than her captors. Bucky was covered in blood. Soaked from head to toe, knotting in his long hair that hung loose and barely passed his shoulders, staining his skin and leaving unflattering lines all along his chest and abdominal muscles. Even his metal arm was covered, dried blood stuck in the tiny grooves where the tech in his arm opened and shut.

Violet didn't struggle for long. She had barely begun to pull at the ropes and allow her panicked reaction to overtake her when he moved with the speed of a viper. He suddenly pulled her down the bed until the tug of the rope attached to the bedpost stopped her, digging painfully into her wrists once more. As she let out a pained cry, he jumped on top of her, straddling her waist and using his metal arm to shove her bound wrists to the pillows above her head. His free hand, human hand, grabbed her neck and stopped her struggles in its tracks.

The grip didn't hurt. It wasn't tight or restricting, but it easily could be. In the span of 3 seconds, Bucky Barnes put her in the most vulnerable position she could have possibly imagined, only it was much more terrifying. Terrifying because this wasn't Bucky Barnes.

This was something else.

She trembled beneath him, her suddenly realization unleashing her panic to new heights while also confusing the hell out of her. How could she possibly know that? She only just talked to the man a couple weeks ago, and now she's suddenly able to tell whether it was him or it wasn't? Yet she should because the signs were right there. The most obvious being his eyes. They were always red, the crimson red that scared the crap out of her and enraged her, but they had nothing on the cold, dagger-like eyes he was displaying right now. It made her miss the crimson, like a person who claims to hate meat until they try the vegan substitute.

Bucky, or whoever this was, leaned down slowly and surely until their faces were inches apart. His dagger eyes studied her, eyelids sheathing slightly when he breathed in her scent. As if he were taking in an erotic drug of some sort. Violet just froze. She had no idea who she was dealing with right now and she was tied up. All she could do was wait for what he did next and hope she didn't react badly.

His thumb caressed the side of her neck, gently catching the edge of her scent gland, sending sparks all throughout her body and hindering her breathing. He watched her reaction, cocking his head slightly, and repeated the action. She reluctantly gave the same response, gasping with the shocks spreading from his touch. He leaned in closer, hot breath touching her face, their noses just barely touching.

Then he spoke slowly in his deep, scratchy voice, "What's my name?"

Violet was thrown for a loop. Was Bucky really this far gone? What the hell happened in the last however many hours that made him forget his own damn name? Did he hit his head or something? Maybe that's all the blood came from?

Violet's lips trembled while she breathed deeply, steadying her nerves before answering his question.

"Bucky," she winced out, surprised to find how sore her jaw was, "your name is Bucky."

There was an instantaneous reaction from him. He growled, hands tensing without tightening his grips on her. Streaks of red shot through those dagger-like eyes. Violet fought to keep her breathing under control, afraid he would feed off it and use it against her. He momentarily stretched out on top of her, popping his back as he eased the tense muscles there. The action caused his groin rub against the top of her belly, and through the action she was left dumbstruck. Bucky had a fucking hard on.

She tried not to stare at it, willing herself to just look into the scary dagger eyes and hope she doesn't get her throat crushed like Billy did. Unfortunately, she could still feel it, which made it nearly impossible to ignore. She was stubborn though, and true to her nature she determinedly stared back at Bucky, who hadn't taken his eyes off her.

He cocked his head slightly. "What's your name?"

Easy enough question. If he didn't remember his own name, then he certainly wouldn't remember hers. She took another breath before answering.

"Violet," she replied huskily, "my name is Violet."

He sniffed, eyes darkening as a result, "are you my Omega?"

Without thinking, Violet glared up at the scary Alpha who had her trapped in his grasp, and angrily answered, "I'm nobodies fucking Omega."

His eyes darkened once more, the crimson starting to bleed through, "are you sure about that?"

"Yeah," Violet nodded as best as she could, "pretty fucking sure."

His flesh hand left her neck, moving up to brush his fingers against her chin, "you're wrong about that."

She was about to give another angry retort when his forehead touched her own, silencing her briefly as he growled and writhed above her. Not once did he hurt her, appearing to only hurt himself instead. She could hear the stretch of his muscles, the pops in his bones, the groans of relief and pain that left him. She lay there frozen, wishing she could make a run for it and hide in a place where he could never find her.

A few minutes later, he finally pulled back, and she was surprisingly relieved to find most of the crimson back in his eyes. Streaks of cold silver remained, like veins shooting some sort of venom into him. He looked slightly confused as he stared at her, but quickly came to his senses within a few short seconds.

"Violet?" He asked, concern coloring his voice.

She asked the first question that popped into her head, unable to stop herself, "do you have a split personality, or did you get hit on the head?"

He looked at her confused for a brief moment before his head suddenly jerked to the side, a growl escaping him. His human hand moved to cover her mouth, a whimper of pain escaping her with the sharp pain shooting through her jaw from the action. Bucky didn't ease up, focused on controlling whatever he seemed to be fighting.

"Don't speak, he likes your voice."

Who likes her voice? What the hell was going on? Was this a nightmare?

Bucky leaned away a hair more, taking deep and steady breaths before speaking again, "I'm not in control right now, so I need you to listen to me." He appraised Violet momentarily, and she nodded slightly in response, wanting any excuse to get out of his hold. "I'm going to release you from the bed, and then I'm going to take you to our bathroom. Do not fight me, do not try to run away from me, and do not speak until I say you can. I can't guarantee he won't hurt you if he comes back and you're in his grasp like this." He stopped, staring imploringly at Violet, "I don't want you to get hurt. Please, for once, do as I say."

She wanted to argue. She wanted to kick, scream, and fight her way out of here. What she did was simply nod, and wait for his next action, knowing that ultimately it was the best choice for her to make at the moment. The worst choice ever but beggars can't be choosers in situations that could end with rape or death or something worse.

Bucky sighed in relief, leaning forward and kissing her forehead slightly. Then he went to work. In a matter of seconds, Violet was released from the metal headboard, along with her feet at the other end of the bed. Her wrists and ankles were still bound, but now she had more freedom to move around slightly. He moved to stand next to the bed, pulling her hands forward and sitting her up on the bed. He coaxed her to face him, allowing her to swing bound feet over the edge of the bed. Bound hands still in his grasp, hard on obviously facing her, her eyes stubbornly looking into his, waiting for his next move.

"Don't fight me," he reminded her.

Then he leaned down, scooped her up, and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Promptly, he turned to face the open doorway, and walked out of Peter's room. She stayed still, knowing it was useless to run when the knots in the bindings at her ankles were mostly likely impeccably good, just like the ones binding her wrists together. She cursed herself, busying herself with all the things that led her to this situation and all the different choices she could have made when they happened upon another room.

The first thing she heard was the shower running. The unmistakable sound of pressurized water hitting the ground filled the room. Then she smelled, actually smelled without a heat aiding her lack of ability, the pungent scent of two Alphas. One scent containing red wine, cayenne, and snow mixed with saffron, honey, rose petals, and fresh bread. The other was whiskey, burning cedar, cinnamon apples, book pages, and falling rain. It was overwhelming, it made Violet dizzy and alert at the same time.

It was Bucky and Natasha's room.

She wanted to puke. There could only be so many reasons for being taken here, and none of them led anywhere good. She whimpered, both in pain and defeat. Why didn't she run? Why didn't she take the chance when she had it? Why did let logic and sense win? They can both kiss her ass.

The door to their room shut closed and locked itself the moment Bucky had carried Violet safely through, then he turned and headed towards what had to be the bathroom. The sound of the running shower got louder with each step. The lights were off in the bedroom, so Violet couldn't really describe it, but the lighting in the bathroom wasn't much better.

It didn't long for her to figure out why.

"About time," a sultry voice caught her attention, "I was wondering whether I should come fetch you two or not. I'm glad I decided to wait."

Violet felt her head drop in defeat at Natasha's voice. It didn't remain that way for long. Bucky set her down on her unsteady feet, helping her stand up straight before guiding her to a nearby chair. The bathroom was filled with lit candles, candles that Natasha was still lighting when Bucky carried her in. The moment he set her down, he started tying her up once more. This time to the chair instead of a bed post.

Natasha, from what Violet could tell in the dim lighting, was in the same nearly naked state as Bucky was. From the brief flickers of light offered by the flames of the candles near her face, Natasha looked more than pleased. She seemed relaxed, content, perhaps even happy. That unnerved Violet more than Bucky at the moment. Next to Natasha was the tub and based on how many rose petals she saw floating at the surface, Violet surmised that the tub was filled.

She desperately avoided going down that train of thought, using all her willpower to not pull that thread.

"I suspect you're wondering what's going on," Natasha interrupted Violet's thoughts, both a welcome and unwelcome reprieve.

"Trying not to," Violet responded after Bucky nodded to her, giving her the go ahead.

What has she come to? Looking to an alpha for permission to speak?! What next?!

Natasha chuckled slightly, "you sound better. You put us through a rollercoaster of emotions the other night. First with that kiss with Darcy," Violet grimaced at that, of course she'd bring that up, "then going rogue and purposefully putting yourself in danger for what? A bit of information?" Natasha tisked, shaking her head slightly, "and then Darcy playing cruel little tricks, drugging you," she hesitated, setting the final candle down on the rim of the tub before turning to face Violet, "hurting you."

A cold chill went down Violet's spine, "what are you going to do to her?"

Natasha cocked her head, hands moving towards the front of her bra, "it depends."

"It depends on- Oh my God!" Violet was saying when Natasha unclipped her bra and swiftly took it off, dropping it to the floor as Violet desperately tried to look anywhere that wasn't in the direction of Natasha, who slipped her fingers under the hem of her matching black lace panties and started sliding them down.

Violet has seen naked people, but only ever on TV. Whenever Peter's in heat he always keeps his boxers on, same with the other Omegas at the Omega house. Even when she and Darcy paid a guy to give Javier a blowjob, she wasn't actually there to see it happening, she was dancing on the dance floor. Aside from catching a glimpse of her naked self in the mirror, this is the first time she's seen anyone naked in person.

And it was happening not even 5 feet from her.

Her eyes were glued to the ground. Maybe if she stayed quiet and stopped being such a smartass, maybe they'd leave her alone? A foolish, foolish hope but what else could she do? She was straight up panicking. This was a new territory that she never intended to venture in, and now she was essentially hog tied and left in the middle of it.

"Oh sweetie," Natasha spoke softly, her feet coming into view before her demure hand grabbed Violet by the chin, pulling it up to look at her with pride, "you really are new to this."

Violet didn't respond, shutting her eyes and curling in her lips, one of the last defenses she had left. Natasha chuckled again, promptly moving Violet's bound hands to the side and sitting in her lap. Violet sucked in a shocked breath, not daring to move or to breathe while Natasha had her in this position.

She took hold of Violet's bound hands and started messing with the knots, "here's what's going to happen. You are going to take a bath with me while James takes a much-needed shower. You are going to let me bathe you, wash your hair and rub you down all nicely. You are not going to escape, and you are not going to fight with us. Not tonight. Afterwards, I'll provide you with clothes, give you a massage, and then the three of us will go to bed. No sex, no mating, just a nice and relaxing evening after a trying night and an even longer day. Okay?"

"Do I even have a choice in this?" Violet grated out, stiff as a board.

"Of course you do," Natasha assured her, "and the choice you make will determine what we do about Darcy and her antics last night." Her thumb caressed Violet bottom lip, a warm smile on her face. "What will it be Violet? What choice are you going to make