#((my body straight up said ''no this is all i need. writing will heal me''))

[princessmyriad]

.

[zonecode]

brain: keep writing this is fun me: we havent even finished the muses' PAGES yet you fool we need to- brain: keep writing this is fun. me: weren't we going to sleep?? we're tired! we had a headache like. ten minutes ago!! brain: i deleted the headache. keep writing this is fun.

[hoseoksluna]

SOJU | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. hobi)

genre: heavy angst, heavy smut

word count: 10.4k

summary: jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.

playlist: soju / pinterest board: wine

warnings: sex flashbacks, alcohol consumption, jungkook is drunk emotional and a mess, jealousy, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), almost heavy dd/lg themes, plushie used during intercourse, inner child healing, use of a sex toy, oral sex (f. receiving), ass play and nipple play, provocation, dirty talk, hair pulling, dry humping, rough sex, overstimulation, pain felt during intercourse, jungkook instructs reader like the teacher he is, pet names and one particular title used, squirting, praise kink, jungkook is mean and cruel and just so horny

note: i will never forget this fic. never. this is the third part of 'wine' and therefore the very end to this adventitious series. even though, this part has a little bit information and quirks in it from the other two fics, it's fine to read as a standalone, but i do recommend reading all three parts as they interlink and you can beautifully see the process and the change of their relationship. i want to thank the lovely soul who asked me to make this a series because writing this made me incredibly happy—and all the themes i used mean the world to me. i also want to thank all of you for reading and for all the love. i hope you like this as much as i do. please, heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that not everyone can be comfortable with. with that being said, enjoy your reading and let me know what you think, let me know your favorite parts. ᡣ𐭩

side note: drunk 3D jungkook being all mean, dominant and daddy is, quite literally, the epitome of my sexuality.

Jungkook will always be a man of his word.

It’s the foundation that keeps his back straight as he leads you through the crowd. The core of the whole promise is the very strength of his fingers as they clasp around your much smaller hand because he notices, under the washed out lights of red and violet, that you’re the center of attention.

He feels as though he’s dragging the hand of a child like a protective father. Except, he has the impulsive need to cover you with his body.

It’s a blasting alarm within the ear splitting chaos of his mind. Louder than the modern music he cares little for; louder than the song of the hard, quickening beats of his heart that he’s unable to ignore. He promised he’d make it up to you about the party because he’d made you drunk with lust. Now that he’s taken you here, he’d much rather be back home with you. Wouldn’t even have the need to seduce you—he just doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want you to be the apple of everyone’s eye.

Sweat glistens on the planes of his forehead.

Jungkook returns every inquisitive look of people he doesn’t know with a stern furrow of his brows. Figures he needs a drink; figures he needs his hyung, at least one familiar face among strangers.

A strong one, to calm the storm within, and a big hug from the host himself.

He hates people.

Leading you to the makeshift bar of spirits in the kitchen, he has a protective hand over the small of your back as you climb on the bar stool. Watches as your ass lifts over the leather and almost jumps out of his own skin when the outsole of your high-heeled shoe slips on the footrest and you fall back onto the chair with a thud. A precious set of treble giggles billow out of your mouth, followed by a reassuring flick of your hand that you’re okay, and Jungkook’s own hand trembles when he lifts it off your back. While you open your purse to reapply your lip gloss, he hides behind his tight, feigned smile the need to run and calm his breathing.

His irises wander over the contents of that purse of yours. Finds a long brown pencil there, your phone, a pack of cigarettes with a purple lighter and a ring of keys adorned with the tiniest Hello Kitty he’s ever seen. No wallet, no cash tucked beneath. A smirk tugs the corner of his mouth, hand acting out of its own will—coming over to your long hair, smoothing it down as you focus on lining your lips with another set of glitter and pinkness. Perhaps the gesture is owed to the proudness he feels due to the fact you’re expecting to be provided for throughout the night, wherever it takes you both after this party. Blurred within is the smugness that he’s the reason you’re dolling yourself up again because he couldn’t help but make a mess of your mouth in the car. It makes his cock grow tight in his pants.

He wears the smugness all over his features. From the gleaming cosmos in his eyes, to the smudged kiss stains of all the roses in the world scattering over his nose and cheeks, down to the deepening smirk. He thinks he’d buy you anything your eyes would linger a heartbeat longer on, with snacks included in case you’d get hungry, as he silently praises you for your good behavior, for that smart brain of yours by the brush of his hand down your hair. A sick part of him wants to even get in debt for you for the pure fun of it—the fun being the primal core of your wishes and needs being gratified, for your satisfaction to shine through the veins on your skin like little sun rays, all while having the time of your life on the night out he promised you.

He’s not afraid to admit he’d do anything for you as long as it stays safely stashed within his system. Can’t risk voicing it out. Can’t risk you knowing. Can’t risk shit.

Studying the shape of your lips as you hold up a small heart-shaped mirror, he twirls the ends of your hair as he waits for you to be done to ask you what you want to drink. Is reminded of the way those pillows wrapped around the straw of the banana milk you brought for him the last time he saw you. Of the way they sucked his fingers when he used them for lubrication to rub your clit while he was fully buried inside your tight, dew-sprinkled cunt. He suddenly feels hot under his collar.

He’s a slave to flashbacks. Always has been.

The celestial concoction of your needy moans and his, kept safe within the confines of his car, loop in his brain. The look of agonized lust when he bit your bottom lip in a heated kiss that he soon alleviated with the swipe of his tongue, with the suction of his lips that begged him to take more of you. Jungkook hears it as if there wasn’t any music at all, as if its thrumming wasn’t enveloping the corridors of his panic-stricken heart. He hears your words, embellished by those giggles of yours, in his ears all over again: “Stop, you’re making me horny. We should go inside.” His own, too: “You dance better for me when your panties are wet. I know you do.” Sees again, as if the moment is happening again and you’re standing in front of him, the way you reacted to his hands warming up your sides in the cold after you stumbled out of his car. Sighing softly, glossy eyes whirling upwards to the drowsy sky full of quivering stars, tipsy on the desire he’s obsessed with awakening in you while being tipsy just the same. The smile rising on your lips when he asked: “Show me how you’re gonna dance for me.” The way you moved your hips in such a silly way that squeezed his heart until it was difficult to breathe.

He’s fucked. Knows he is. Has known it for a while now.

You’re the origin of the chaos within his mind. The body of it itself. He has a teeny-tiny version of you in his mind that lives there, and lives there well because he feeds her, brushes her hair and gives her kisses, despite the storm.

He could never tell you—how much he thinks about you daily.

To a certain extent, he almost did the last time you came around, in a frenzy of sensuality and pent-up desire that consumed him. Prayed you didn’t see it for the way it really was.

It’s not just lust, and it’s more than just a friendship.

He figured as much—doesn’t have any fucking idea what to do with it. 

Not a single one. Especially not when you pucker your lips at him and screw the applicator back into the tube. 

He doesn’t want to lose you. Doesn’t ever want to lose the sight of that pucker of yours. And he fears that if he tells you of his weakness for you, he might never see it again.

So, he opts to keep things safe, keep things casual. That is until he eventually bursts.

That’s another promise, too. 

He pulls on one of your strands. Your head knocks back, eyes wide at the audacity of it all. He laughs at your reaction.

“Can you stop?”

Jungkook does it again just to see the shock written over your face, full on belly laughing.

“What the fuck?” You slap his shoulder, the impact so small he barely feels it. “You want me to pull your hair, too?”

He grabs his stomach. “No, what I want to know is what you wanna drink.”

You purse your lips in feigned anger, fingers outstretched by the back of his head to play-pull his hair or perhaps slap him into oblivion. If you could manage it. 

He doesn’t think you could. 

He goes around you to sit beside you on the bar stool, studying the bottles of liquor his hyung bought. Is ignorant to the way you’re studying him, to the way the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly at the discovery of the current situation in his intimate parts. 

Pulls out one to acknowledge himself with it. Asks you if you wanna drink it. 

You don’t say anything. 

When Jungkook lifts his eyes to scold you for not paying attention, all the words get hitched in his throat. You’re grinning from ear to ear. All those damned words are forgotten immediately. 

“Are you hard?” you whisper, flushed at the face, glossy eyes glimmering, ever so excited about your discovery. 

He feels himself twitch. Hides it by cupping himself discreetly. 

Averts his eyes. “I’m always hard around you,” he mutters, twisting the bottle open. “I’ve gotten used to it.” 

He doesn’t look at you when he pours you a shot, but he focuses on the way your breathing gains speed. Fights the smile threatening his lips caused by how easy it is to provoke you. 

“You wanna get out of here?”

You’re hasty as you ask, looking around you, inspecting which room you could use to drag him into and relieve him of his problem, but he assures you it’s no problem at all with a curt shake of his head. 

Strangely, he found a way to like the tension in his pants. Thinks it digs deep into the depth of the moment—simply makes it more exciting. 

“We just got here,” Jungkook says flatly, screwing the lid back on. “Don’t be rude.” 

He filled your shot to the brim not necessarily with the intention to make you drunk as fast as he can, but to watch your eyes widen the way they do so sweetly. And you don’t disappoint him at all when you do just that, the smile on your lips blossoming still. An aura of shyness envelops you in softness due to his disapproving words and Jungkook realizes he grazed your submission by reprimanding you. While it magnifies his smugness, he feels a little bit bad for you. Knows how much it turns you on when his fatherliness looms out, but blames you for it nonetheless. You rouse it in him.

You may have never told him about your father wounds, but his instincts sensed it in you—sought it out like its own child and cradled it in his arms, promising to never let go.

Promise. There it is again.

He wants to spend the rest of his life promising you things. Doesn’t matter what. He just wants the security, the cord of trust, that you’ll be here; that you’ll be here for a long time. It truly doesn’t matter if he promises you things internally or outwardly.

Jungkook cups your chin. Wants to say something. Wants to reassure you that you can take the shot, encourage you a tiny bit. But what you say to him dries up his throat completely.

“You don’t want a blowie?”

Your words were a mere silky noise, but he heard you. Curled his fingers tight into fists in order not to bend you over the bar stool and take you right then and there in front of everyone.

Decides he will provoke you right back.

“You don’t want a lickie?” he murmurs, drawing close to you so you’re the only one who hears him. “You don’t want Daddy’s tongue on your little clit?”

You gasp and grip his knee, your legs intuitively spreading.

Jungkook skims his surroundings to see if anyone’s watching. When the coast is clear—people mindlessly mingling, having conversations—he hovers his lips against your ear, hand coming in between your legs, not to touch you but to cover you. Whispers, “or you don’t want Daddy’s tongue fucking you fast? Licking over your little ass? Hm, you don’t know how good that feels yet, do you?”

You’re holding in a sob—Jungkook sees it in the way your eyes and lips round, brows furrowing. He made you wet. Serves you right.

He pulls away to pour you a chaser. Asks which one you want.

You take a deep breath, flicking your hair back. “Coca cola,” you chirp, despite the deathly grip you have on his knee, perhaps to hold your sanity together, other fingers wrapping around the shot. Small, so fitting for an equally small glass.

Jungkook laughs. Loves it. Loves…

The realization, of what he almost granted access to within his system, strangles his heart. He hears nothing for a moment, not the music, not the tremor of his weak heart. Nothing.

A can of Coke waits for you behind the bar on the kitchen counter and before any thought flicks through his brain, Jungkook stands to his feet to fetch it for you—to get his blood pumping again so he can gain control of his senses. It scares him, the nothingness. Even his eyes fail to focus as he looks for the metallic red can he swore he saw hardly a minute ago. He feels a slap on his back and a familiar face, at last, comes into view. 

Hobi. 

The first thought that resurfaces is filled with thankfulness enveloping around that name, dispersed with tiny kisses of ‘you saved me, hyung’. Jungkook dives head-first into the offering hug of his savior, his senses returning to him like magnets attaching to metal. He takes in a deep breath as if he was under water and just came up for air. 

“So glad to see you,” Hobi says, rubbing his back. 

Jungkook squeezes his shoulder. Says something that doesn’t reflect what he truly wants to say, keeps up the small talk while burying under layers upon layers of mud the confession that he almost told himself he loved you. 

Which reminds him that he didn’t introduce you.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Jungkook says, grabbing the can of Coke his eyesight is now clear enough to spot and an empty, tall glass for you. Guides his friend to where you’re sitting but what he sees almost makes him jump out of his own skin for the second time in the span of an hour—almost sobs tearfully at the unfortunate discovery. 

A mop of dirty blonde curls shaking at the impact of his laughter as he whispers sweet nothing into the shell of your ear. He towers from behind you, compressing you in the muscly width of his half-barren chest. An electricity of anguish spasms down the course of Jungkook’s body, for in a flash he’s reminded of the way you towered above him just the same the last time. His sweat cools as you listen to him, a pang after pang of jealousy stinging him in his abdomen. He’s frozen on the spot—Hobi says something, but Jungkook can’t hear him—that is until you make a face of discomfort.

Jungkook sees red. 

His heart slams hard against his chest, but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel its intention to break his ribcage. 

The words unfurl out of his tight mouth before he can think them through. “Can I fucking help you?” he hisses through his teeth, setting the glass and the can down harshly. The noise makes you jump, which instantly drives him to regret his actions—and it puts an end to his rage.

He didn’t mean to scare you. Doesn’t want you to regard him this way. 

The sudden softness welcomes his senses back with a gentle beckoning.

Lifting his eyes, the guy ignores the question. Whispers something again that forces you to pierce your stare into the fire that burns within Jungkook’s irises. Not the fire he let you see throughout the trajectory of your casual relationship, the blue, the dreamily sultry one. 

The one that licks over his eyes is black. Pitch black. No sign of stars, no dots of reflection of light. Pure pitch black.

But you hold his gaze, unafraid of the darkness.

For a reason unknown to him, it ignites you with strength to shove raggedy Barbie Ken away. Your touch lingers on his chest for a mere second and is not as scorching as the bite of your words: “Yes, I’m here with him and I’m not interested in you. Go away.”

Jungkook doesn’t look at the guy. Doesn’t give two shits about the painful twists of his features as he staggers away. Forgets about Hobi; forgets about the questioning looks of strangers digging into his back. All he sees is you. All he hears is the sigh of relief once he’s gone. And Jungkook is hasty as he reaches for you, relieved himself—relieved that he didn’t have to fight the fucker and alter the trust you have in him—needing you close, needing to gain back his control. He’s almost smiling uncomfortably at the ridiculous twist of events, but then the tug of his mouth stills.

You slip out of his grasp and move past him.

There’s silence within Jungkook’s ribcage. Not one beat or flutter, not one kick.

Nothing.

***

Knocking back shots after shots, Jungkook remains silent. Doesn’t answer any of his hyung’s questions. Doesn’t look at any of the girls who sashay to Hobi’s thigh to chitchat. His gaze merely remains fixed on the empty glass of the chaser he never had the chance to pour you. 

Your shot of the dark liquor is also left untouched. 

It’s the twinge of pity he feels that gives the order to his feet to rise. Hobi grabs his arm, long fingers digging into the hard leather of his jacket. Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate his stare, despite its heavy energy. Keeps his head low instead. 

“Give her more time,” Hobi says, lugging him down to a seated position but Jungkook untangles out of his grip. 

Grabs a bottle of soju as he mutters, “half an hour is more than enough.” 

He makes a way through the corridor towards the door you slinked into, the translucent bottle swinging by his jean-clothed thigh. Doesn’t knock on the wood, instead walks straight in as if he owned the place.

You’re sitting by the foot of the bed. The yellowness of the subdued bedside lamp drapes your sagged shoulders in gold, filtering through your hair that obscures your face. You had taken off your shoes and they lie crooked and alone by your stocking-clad feet. Jungkook wonders if that’s how you feel. 

His weakness caused by the unfortunate events and the sadness engulfing you stops him from moving a step closer to you as he beholds your puny form, but Jungkook fights it—fights for you. He needs to be in control. Of his own body and emotions, no matter how strenuous he finds it. He needs to be strong—and he needs to be strong for you to make things right.

He clicks the door shut behind him. As he walks towards you, he opens the bottle of soju with the firmness of his phone and takes a long sip. Settles in between your legs on the ground, crossing his legs at the ankles. Probs you on the calf to make his presence known to you, cooing your name. 

You sniff your nose, gathering your hair to the side, curling the shorter pieces behind your ear. Your face glistens from the rivers of tears he wasn’t there to wipe away, cheeks flushed from all the onrush of emotions that wasn’t of the coy or sensuous kind he likes so much. The hard stone of his heart cracks at your broken countenance and the back and forth swipe of his fingers on the nylon of your stocking grows more tender the more he takes in your sadness. He wishes to inhale it, rid you of it once and for all. Thinks it doesn’t belong to you. Wants to fight the guy, make you laugh—make a fool out of himself—and make love to you. Wants all of those things at the same time, but he realizes he can’t tear himself apart.

He decides being here is enough. He can fix whatever has been broken here in Hobi’s room. 

“This is so fucked up, Jungkook.” 

You’re the first one to break the silence and it takes a slight weight off of his shoulders. Jungkook hums, prompts you to speak further on what hurts your heart. Wraps his entire hand around the muscle of your calf, thumb tracing figures of eight on your skin. 

The warmth helps you look him in the eye, but you don’t say anything else. 

Jungkook figures it’s his turn.

“I wouldn’t let him touch you,” he says softly, hand drifting down to cradle the heel of your lifted foot. You’re mine, he doesn’t add. 

Your mouth rounds once again in a wave of emotion that clutches you. You don’t let the tears fall, looking up to the ceiling so the little pearls don’t trickle out of your tear ducts. Jungkook notices puffy marks of darkness under your bottom lashes, where he swore he saw thin pathways of glitter, small shooting stars traveling around the globe of your eyes. They’re nowhere to be found now, you’ve rubbed them away. 

“I know, it’s not about that.” You sniff, hands hooking under the hem of your skirt just to have something to hold onto, to busy your fingers a little—as if he wasn’t right there. “I think I kinda get you know.” 

Jungkook makes a sound that asks you to enlighten him, taking a swig of the sweet liquor to aid him in forgetting what he didn’t say. But the more he drinks, the more he remembers—the more his feelings splutter to life. It’s like he didn’t drink a drop at all. 

“I never understood why you need to be in control all the time,” you start, fixing your gaze on his. “But I finally did when that guy had his arms around me and wouldn’t let go. I wished I had even a small bit of control in that moment when I was alone. I hated feeling like I had to endure it when all I wanted to do was run away.” You break apart at your last words and Jungkook’s world crumbles in his hands. 

There’s chaos in his mind. A chaos of selfish nature that wants to prove you wrong because no, he doesn’t have any control when it comes to you, when you’re dressed, perfect and broken altogether. He doesn’t have shit—he’s nothing. A complete mess. And perhaps it’s his bruised heart that acts out despite this self-pitying mayhem grappling him, shutting it out into eternal darkness, for Jungkook doesn’t even know how he does it when he pulls you down onto his lap by a careful drag of your legs and encases you within the heated snugness of his arms.

He doesn’t even understand his own words when he says, “You can take all of mine. It’s yours.”

Jungkook doesn’t care about anything at all because when you start to sob into his shoulders, he breaks along with you—bursts at the seams completely. 

“I know you were scared, but that won’t happen again. Not when I give you all of my control.” His words are smooth amidst the stream of his liquid emotions and Jungkook is glad for it—glad to be a pillar you can lean on. He imagines transferring all of his being, not just his control, to you like a blanket draping around your shoulders, so the situation never happens again. 

His tears soak your hair strands and they carry his sorrowful kiss to the crook of your neck. He doesn’t want to utter a sound, wants to remain strong, but his heavy exhales betray him, wafting against you as he tightens his grip around your violently shuddering body in effort to soothe it. Considers this moment to be yours alone, doesn’t want to be selfish. Wants to be there for you.

“You helped me when I saw you,” you say against his skin, the sound muffled but he hears you—tightens his lips in a firm line in order not to wail. “When I saw that you were there, I was strong enough to push him away. You were my backup, Jungkook.” 

He agrees with a soft sound, rocking you back and forth as he cradles you. Leans his head against the side of yours, shielding you from the world and its wickedness. 

Your cries quieten. “But I want to be strong even when you’re not there.” 

Jungkook strokes your hair, understands you even when it pains him—his attachment to you pulled so taut he fears it’ll break. “You’re strong now. I gave you my control, didn’t I?”

To his surprise, you nod. 

After you pull away to breathe and Jungkook sweeps your tears away with his thumb, he’s smothered with the reminder that he made a promise to himself—a promise that is on the brink of being fulfilled. 

The walls close in on him, but he doesn’t care. He promised to keep things casual until he bursts. He refuses to go another day pretending you’re just a friend he feels nothing for. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the heavily charged emotions that make the decision for him, but he simply doesn’t care about the outcome anymore. The truth has to come out into the light. 

Jungkook calls you by your name. Brushes your hair back so he can look properly in the faded lush of your eyes; cradles your face in his hands like that. You call him by his name as well, whispering it into the shadows of the room. Such a soft, silky sound that puts pink plasters over the cracks in his heart. He says your name in the same intonation just to get a taste of liberty. 

“I’m yours,” he confesses, a lump forming in his throat, and he’s too late to blink the tears away. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you; since the moment you laid your hands on me. Yours for the taking. My heart, my control—it’s all yours.”

The bridge constricting his throat collapses when you give him a look of endearment, your features softening, rounding in emotion. Jungkook watches as a tear rolls down your cheek; feels an identical one going down the same path on his own skin, fiery and hot. 

“I’m sorry.” He breaks into sobs—and break, break, break is all he does. “I’m sorry if you wanted to stay casual, but I can’t… and-and I can’t let you go. I can’t let anyone else have you.” 

You bunch the material of his wife-beater in your fists under his jacket, mewling tender weeping sounds. Jungkook bites his lip to prevent himself from spilling in your hands, needing you to say something, anything, so he can straighten his back and call it a night. You bury your head in his chest  and Jungkook lulls you to calmness while needing it himself. He suddenly feels alone. Alone and crooked like your shoes, as if he said the wrong thing, as if he didn’t deserve any reassurement, any love for what he just did—

You mumble something into his skin. 

His heart jumps. 

“I didn’t catch that, baby.” 

You lift your head, clutching the sides of his neck. “I like you, too, Jungkook.” 

Your words tell him a lot of things. 

He didn’t make a mistake tonight. He didn’t do anything bad, didn’t lose you for the rest of his life. He will see that pucker of yours for the months to come, your glitter and all your shooting stars will be there to guide him home. 

And the other thing is—he fell for you first. Because while you like him, he absolutely and irrevocably loves all of who you are. 

He smiles at you, though. The bridge takes the heft on his shoulders along with it and disperses into nothingness. He wants to thank you. He wants to thank you for the kindness you expressed towards him, for your hands that hold him. And he does by kissing you, by inhaling you, taking away all your sadness and the bad events that caused it. 

“You mean a lot to me,” you say against his lips, pretty wet eyelashes fluttering. Jungkook feels their dewiness; wants to feel yours, too. There’s a pout to his mouth as he listens to you. “You changed my life. You make it better.” He nods at your words, senses them opening a window in his heart to let the fresh air in. “I don’t ever wanna lose you, Gguk. You’re too important.” 

He almost says it. Those three words. But he keeps them stored within the now brisk chamber of his heart, full of spring. Flowers grow, in place of the plasters. 

Jungkook caresses your cheek. “I want to make you forget.” 

You beam at him—and there he feels it, the pulse of his heart, its song and its steady, balmy notes. 

“Make me forget about tonight, please.” 

He kisses you, adds in a million tiny pecks in between, sliding his tongue inside your mouth in brief greeting. His fingers blindly find the bottle of Soju and when he withdraws with a pop, he presents it to you. 

“Look at what I got you,” Jungkook says, chuckling. 

You wrap your hand around his on the bottle and he tips it to your mouth, helping you drink it. You widen your eyes at him when he wants you to drink more than you do, and he lowers his hand with a grin. Loves those eyes of yours. Loves your mouth as he wipes it clean with his thumb. 

It’s lighthearted, the state of his emotions. He had tasted liberty by fondly mimicking your intonation, but now it courses through his veins, now it’s his. He feels so very glad to be alive at this moment and he wants to celebrate in the only way he knows he can. 

“I got you another thing as well, but it’s back home,” Jungkook says. “I can’t drive but we can take an Uber.” 

“Let’s go.” 

Jungkook straps your heels, fixes your skirt and swipes his thumbs under your eyes to rid you of black mascara stains. Offering you his hand, you take his pinky and ring finger and he leads you out of the room with you following behind. He skims the living room to find Hobi but, again, he’s nowhere in sight until you tap his shoulder and point to the right side of the corridor. Hobi is rising to his feet from sitting on the stairs. The thought of his hyung staying around for him instead of enjoying the party squeezes his heart in gratitude. He hugs him and when it’s your turn to say your goodbye, Hobi pulls you in for a hug as well, rubbing your back as he asks you if you’re okay. 

The soju remains in your hand. Sitting on the curb outside, both of you finish it while waiting to be picked up with Jungkook’s hand on your thigh and rough kisses shared in between. The wind doesn’t dare to disturb the intimacy, but watches on with a fond care, the stars hanging low, peeking through to witness at least one good thing of the night. 

***

“If this breaks me out, I’m gonna kill you.” 

Jungkook is carefully tender as he drags the makeup wipe along the perimeters of your cheeks, scowling at the sun-filled tint coloring the whiteness of the wet cloth. He had spent half an hour choosing the right brand in the drugstore earlier in the morning because he decided you were going to sleep over without telling you, reading each small letter on the packaging, despite the fact he understood shit. 

You’re still clothed and so is he, resting in the middle of the comfort of his bed as he hovers above you, knees perched at the foot of the bed. The aching ball of your own foot grazes the bulge in his intimate parts and Jungkook himself is at wonder how he’s able to focus when it stimulates all of his senses, adding heat to his body. 

“It’s Korean, it won’t break you out,” he mutters, swiping along the underside of your eye with extra care. 

“I once had a toner that—”

Jungkook covers your mouth with his palm. “It’s Korean,” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you. 

You giggle and he drops his glower, beaming down at you. 

“You know I can do it myself. I’m not that drunk.”

He focuses on your forehead now, cleaning off your foundation and all those sparkles. 

“I know you can, but let me.”

You babble on and Jungkook decides he’s had enough of it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m gonna shut you up.” 

He dumps the makeup wipe on your face and rummages through his bedside drawer. While you use it to cleanse off your neck, Jungkook spoils your surprise and opens your present. Is discreet as he smuggles it between your legs, pressing it against your clothed clit. 

The soft vibrations spread throughout his whole hand. He increases the intensity. 

You freeze, flicking your eyes to his, makeup wipe long forgotten. You roll your hips against the toy. 

“Oh my god.” 

Serves you fucking right. 

“Keep talking,” Jungkook mutters. “Hm, keep fucking talking and dare to come.” 

It’s maniacal, his laugh, but gentle and amorous in nature because he fucking loves you, loves to tease you, loves to make you feel good—show your body new things that it willingly accepts. You wiggle your hips, chasing the pleasure, mouth fallen open, emitting tiny satiny legato whimpers, which cause his cock to twitch in his pants—so much that he begins to move the purple toy all around your femininity while palming himself. He notices your lack of babbling. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks in feigned sympathy. “You suddenly have nothing to say?” 

You smile at him, and it stops everything. The roleplay of his mean dominance, the vibrations buzzing his hand. He turns the toy off and is straightforward as he says, “undress.” 

Does so himself.

He takes off his leather jacket and unbuttons his pants; watches you as you drag the skirt down those hips he wants nothing more than to kiss and hold in his hands. When it pools around your knees, he chucks the material behind him. You hook your thumbs beneath the waistband of your stockings and Jungkook thinks about how he’d like to tear them apart and make you lose your mind through the hole he’d create as he strokes the outer side of your thigh. He wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but he just can’t help it.

You rouse it him and he just listens. 

His hands are quick as they rip a hole above the center of your rosily pink panties. He smirks at your shocked gasp, so short and dry, drawing close to your pussy, kissing her, nuzzling his face in her. The tension in his intimate parts is almost unbearable when you run your hands through his hair and incite him to do more. He licks over the tiny wet spot on the frail material that he’s the artist of, adding to it, and watches the roll of your eyes because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. It’s a dance what your hips do, the most unkind torture and he longs to squeeze them.

He’s a good boy when it comes to listening to his body’s desires. 

Making a way through the beige hole, ripping it further in the process, he grabs the supple skin, thumbs fondling over your hip bones. So small, so delicious. Jungkook licks his lips, pushes your underwear to the side to reveal your dewy little seashell—fixes it so it stays put. Looks up at you. “Top off. I wanna see those pretty tits.” 

You’re a good girl, too, when it comes to obeying his wishes. 

A praiseful coo ripples out of his mouth once you reveal your black padded bra. Jungkook decides he wants it to be in line of his sight, so he lowers the straps down your arms and merely tugs the undergarment below your breasts. The spillage and the ripple of their fullness almost makes him die right then and there. Jungkook bites his bottom lip until he draws blood.

Two hindrances. The silky straps on your arms, the stockings he will soon lower down your thighs. Jungkook curses under his breath; thinks he should’ve gotten the ropes he was eyeing after his drugstore run. Pink and rough, just the kind you would’ve liked. 

Perhaps it isn’t needed for the lovemaking he longs for with you. Playtime and lovemaking are two different things, he concludes. 

He’s so horny he might lose his mind first. And he does—with nose pressed against your sternum, babbling nonsense while he buries his head in your tits. Inhaling your vanilla and tuberose scent, he kisses the valley leading up to the peak of your stiffened nub, trails it with his tongue, goes the extra mile to suck it into his mouth, hearing its call. He’s just listening—listening to your body language that asks for him. His eyes are blurry when he gazes at you. You’ve fled to the pink planet again, but he wants you here with him. While he flicks your nipple with his nimble tongue, he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks. Would die for your adorableness. Would go to war for it, a thousand times over. 

Jungkook sucks the nub to make your travel back to Earth faster and he accomplishes what he wants. With a roll of your body and a moan, you’re back, looking down at him, cradling him, brushing his hair back. He makes sure you see the way he toys with your nipple—keeps his mouth open as he circles it, flicks it before he sucks it back inside. 

“Stay here with me,” Jungkook mumbles, switching to the other nipple. “Please.” 

You nod, grinding your hips against his stomach. Another call. Your hands slide lower to his neck and Jungkook understands you want more. 

“Take control of me, baby,” he says. “Flip me over.” 

Your breath is shaky. A light flickers in your eyes, glints like his saliva adorning your nipple in the yellow dimness of the room. You grab a hold of his neck with your one hand like he does to you every time while the other comes around his shoulder and you push him to his back in one swift motion.

Jungkook feels proud. You learn well from him. So studious, so smart, so cute.

You straddle his hips and Jungkook begins to trace your thighs, fingertips gliding back and forth on the nylon, until he grips your hips—and grips them hard. He forces you down on the bulge of his cock, hissing at the pleasure rising up his abdomen. He feels your dewiness against the material of his boxers soaking it through. He guides your hips in a steady but firm rhythm and once you familiarize yourself with it and hump him on your own, he brushes his fingers across your wet nipples. The sensation sends you toppling back, spine arched as you ride him like you rode his Hello Kitty plushie, but Jungkook keeps his fingers on those two little nubs. Your tits bounce and slap against each other and he just follows their movement, squeezing, grazing, leading you to the burst of your climax. When he lets go, you lower your body enough for him to nuzzle his face in them, moving you to the tip of his cock that peeks out of his boxers. The contact of your little soaked clit with his oozing arousal makes Jungkook moan into your skin, and he feels his balls tighten. 

He lets you know by squeezing your arm, as if his furrowed brows, flushed face and the planes of his forehead shining in a layer of sweat weren’t indicating the matter enough. 

You enjoy every second of the torment you bestow upon him, back upright now, fingertip playing with his navel.

Even more so as you flip around and ride him reverse cowgirl style, the nylon of your stockings stretched taut over your ass. Jungkook feels faint.

You’re wearing a thong that is but a thin fabric and would cover absolutely nothing if it were in its right place. He can see your little puckered hole that he’s very hungry for, starved actually, with each backward movement you make. He yanks his boxers down, granting you access to paint his manhood with the loveliness of your shiny dewiness. Grunts at the sloppiness of your flesh gliding back and forth as you toy with his ballsack. On the top of his cock, your juices mix with his—creating a pretty, pretty palette. 

The way your pussy lips barely wrap around his girth, your little breaths and sobs—Jungkook can’t take it. White flashes in his eyesight, the build up of his orgasm nearing the end.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, flicking your hair behind your shoulders as you arch your back, your hair like a waterfall cascading down your spine. 

Jungkook pulls on it, halting your torture. “You’re gonna make me come,” he purrs. “What a waste that would be—for me to come all over my pants like a teenager when your cunnie is right here.” 

He rips your stocking further to reveal more of your ass. Pushes you towards his face until you’re sitting on it and—

He devours you. 

You cry out. The sound propels him to tighten his grip around the small of your back, to quicken the shakes of his head while his tongue stimulates your engorged clit, occasionally flicking against the muscle to hear more of your little noises. Your palm feels up his wet shaft and Jungkook rewards you for being such a good girl that thinks of her Daddy by taking your bundle between his lips and sucking it. Your body quivers, plays tag with his tongue and Jungkook growls, your taste the sweetest thing he’s had all week and he can’t get enough. Needs more, needs…

“Fuck yourself on my tongue.” 

He guides you. Spanks you when you find him. And the sobs you let out, interlaced with the naughtiest of whimpers, make him ache. Your walls press against him—stars fill his vision—and he can’t breathe. Needs you to come, needs a release himself, needs to taste your tiny hole that has never been touched before. 

His hand extends for the purple toy, keeping it on the low setting. He presses it against your clit and the way you tighten around him lets him know you’re soaring; mere seconds away from ascending fully to the pearly gates. 

Jungkook lets you reach your climax on your own, even though his hands itch to grab you and invigorate your thrusts. He wants you to have full control; wants you to get a heady taste of that liberty. 

Wants you to get used to it. 

You slow down your movement and Jungkook hears your cry first before your body begins to convulse. He holds you through your orgasm whilst he rubs the vibrator all over your clit and is ever so fucking mesmerized when he catches your pussy drooling and clenching. 

He aches—aches badly to be inside of you. 

Ridding you entirely of the mere cobwebs that your stockings have become, Jungkook holds your panties in place. His tongue darts out to swipe at your trickling hole, drags it past your skin across the other hole he’s yearning for. He feels you clench; he hears the litany of your incoherent words as you take in the new pleasure. He doesn’t touch your clit—he knows how sensitive it is after such an intense orgasm, so he just drags his tongue up and down both of your holes, swirling around the tight entrance. 

When he penetrates you there, you scream. 

You scream a bunch of yes’ in a row and Jungkook imagines your eyes are rolling back like they always are—imagines a grin on that fucked-out face of yours, eyelashes fluttering and wet with liquid emotions. It drives him to drill his tongue there in faster staccatos, moaning against you; the entirety of his bloodstream flowing to his intimate parts. He’s so hard he might burst, length heavy and solid against his stomach, but it brings him a great deal of pleasure to have you open like this, to taste you in a place no one has ever touched before, to give you a new experience that you’ll remember for a long time and possibly beg him for again. 

He sighs against you, drinking you to relax his jaw. Is drunk on the moment, probably enjoys it more than you do. 

You begin riding his face and he just offers you his tongue. Lets you do whatever you want. 

“Feels so fucking good, Jungkook, oh my god.”

You’re fast now and Jungkook feels proud of you. You’re taking charge, chasing your pleasure. His heart skips a beat when you want him in your ass again, and he willingly obliges, fucking you there until the tremor of your body signals him of the thunder of your approaching orgasm. 

You come on his tongue violently. Shuddering, screaming, leaving his neck, mouth, chin and cheeks wet. Dewiness for tears—he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Turning around, you don’t let him breathe before you grab his face and kiss him, licking into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your own rich flavor. Jungkook reciprocates all of your kisses and swipes of your tongue, doesn’t try to dominate you but instead revels in the nasty kiss, bucking his hips against your heat. So slippery, so fleshy. He grunts into your mouth.

When Jungkook sees your blissed-out face, he grins at you. Is blissed-out himself. “How’s that?” he asks. “You have all of my control. All of it.”

Your voice is hoarse when you say, “so fucking amazing, thank you,” and grin down at him just the same. 

Joy beats through his chest, illuminating him from within as if he had his own tapestry of the whole night sky right there above his heart. 

You sink lower down his thighs and pepper kisses along the length of his sticky cock. The gesture moves him and he lets you stay there for a moment while he briefly ponders over how a paralyzing form of pain led him to such a pure, expanding joy that he feels right now. 

Tears well up in his eyes. 

“Come here,” Jungkook pleads and you lift your head like a puppy. 

He decides that he doesn’t want any restrictions on your body anymore. Each move of his hand is calculated as he unclips your bra and tugs your stockings, along with your underwear, down your legs. Even his own clothes come off in a blink of an eye because all he wants is skin to skin contact, to be connected with you on the deepest, most raw level that there is. 

There’s a bit of nervousness coating his voice when he asks you to ride him due to his vulnerability. And when he feels the beginning of you, your heat encompassing him like the warm wind he last had grazing his body in his summer childhood days, the tears that loom in his eyes rush out. 

It feels like he’s back in those days, but only this time all things are made right. But he can’t lie his head down in that tall grass of his childhood and escape—not when you struggle to take him from the angle you’re not used to.

He doesn’t think he ever let you ride him. Not even once. He apprehends you don’t know how to go about it. 

“I know it hurts from this angle, but you can take it,” he says, willing his voice to be smooth as if he wasn’t crying at all—is thankful for the dimness that obscures his vulnerability from you. “You’ve taken me before, you can do it. Relax for me, sweetheart.”

You clench around him, stay frozen on the spot, and Jungkook can’t see. Filmy vision, emotions hurling at him like an incoming surge of waves. But all of that takes a step back when you mewl a pained noise and let yourself fall on his chest, his cock only a quarter of the way in. 

“I’m scared. It’s too sensitive, it hurts.”

You shift your hips so he slips out of you. Jungkook kisses your forehead, wraps an arm around you while the other travels further down, below the roundness of your cheeks. Makes sure you look at him as he says, “don’t be scared, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. There’s no rush. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you.” 

He looks at you for a long while—recognizes only some of your features in the dark—and so do you whilst he lulls you into a state of serenity by humming a song his mother sang to him during those summer days, by petting your head ever so fondly. He never realized how broken his inner child truly was until you kiss his tears away—see them, alas—and the boy inside him leaps into the sun-breathed air of the past. Grows into a young man with a dream in his heart and pensive thoughts beneath the thick set of black hair. Transforms into an adult man with love for a dream instead, for all that has become of his ambitions is the desire to be loved, to be wanted. 

Dream or desire, none of it matters now because all of it, in a strange way that heals him, intermingles with each exhale of your breath against his cheek—and with the inch you think you’re ready to take—all of it is fulfilled. 

A dream come true. A desire gratified. 

You’re his and he is yours. And he tells you. 

You kiss him everywhere. Nose, cheeks, neck. Grab his bunny plushie and tuck him into the crook of his elbow. Jungkook holds onto him as you take another inch, other hand holding his shaft as you sink down little by little, stopping whenever it gets too much. 

“You’ve always taken it so well,” he murmurs onto your pained expression, unable to take his eyes off of you. “I was made for you. It’s yours, baby. It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.” 

You clench at his words and the noise that you squeak makes him grunt onto your lips.

“That’s right, baby. I’m so proud of you for trying to take me so well like this when your little pussy is so sensitive from my tongue. You deserve to be rewarded, don’t you?” 

The smile blossoming on your mouth is dangerous with its coyness but confidence at the same time. He falls in love with you all over again, feels the tall grass of his childhood bending over his head, sifting through his hair. 

“I’m doing it for you,” you say. “I want to make you feel good.” 

A hum of appreciation. A kiss full of tongue. “Throw your hips back a little. Just like when we dance.” 

He’s not fully sheathed inside of you, but he feels your gummy walls smothering the half of his length and it’s enough. He doesn’t want to hurt you by filling you to the brim—he’s heedful even as he guides your hips with his hands, rolling them back as if you were grinding against him. Both of you danced like that many times before and because you know the move, you’re comfortable once you latch onto his hands and lift them, intertwining your fingers with his, pinning them down onto the mattress. Your hips gain speed, bouncing on him as your chest lifts a little, hovers above him and the bunny in the middle of his stomach, and Jungkook doesn’t let himself feel pleasure until your eyes lid and turn to the ceiling.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. You’re a fucking”—Jungkook whines at the impact of a distinct hard slam of your hips down on his—“pro. My little fucking pro. Doing so good for me.”

He’s losing it and it’s so quick. The change of energy in the room, the arousal rising like fine dust in the air. All because his words nourished you with confidence that blazes the atmosphere around the bed. It’s just you, him and bunny in this microcosm and Jungkook longs to hold onto the plushie. Feels so much like you when he’s the one in control; feels as though you’ve become one in this emotionally charged act. He can’t differentiate between himself and you anymore. 

He’s simply become you because he loves you. Or has been you the whole time due to that very fact. Perhaps loving someone truly means becoming them because what you learn from them, what you mimic from them is perpetually yours.

An awareness of how tired you must be drifts across his mind. He knows that with each excellent performance comes the burning of the muscles so without thinking twice, he maneuvers you to his favorite position—remaining on his lap with your back against his chest and bunny stacked on top of you. He takes the lead but lets you decide the pace. You’re the boss. “Fast or slow?” 

“Fast.” 

Jungkook hums, raising a brow. “Fast? Cunnie isn’t sensitive anymore?” 

You shake your head ‘no’, propping an arm behind his neck. “I want it fast.” 

It’s simultaneous—the deed of two hands, yours and his, grabbing a hold of the fluffy belly of the plushie, fingers traveling and interlocking without a thought, without a direction, and yet meeting. Like two shooting stars. Like the ones you wear under your bottom lashes. 

One person. One mind, one heart. 

Jungkook taps your belly button with the tip of his cock. You laugh softly. He remembers how wide your eyes were in fear when you sat upright on his lower stomach and could clearly see how far he reached inside of you. 

“Ready?” he asks. 

“Yes.” 

He sinks his length into your warmth. The grass, the caress of the summer wind. You’re the personification of his childhood and Jungkook kisses you hard, tells you of it by the press of his lips on yours. Is ruthless as he ruts into you. His free hand clutches the vibrator and finds your clit under the small dangling legs of bunny. The low intensity is but a thrum, though by the gasps you emit, by the moans that rise in echoes within the atmosphere, he deduces it’s good. 

Smugness returns, hand in hand with his control. He presses the toy harder against you, rubbing it side to side—and this time he doesn’t stop. 

He doesn’t stop fucking you. 

Vigorous with strength, empowered by the free rein of his emotions that were accepted and loved, he pistons his hard cock into that tightness of yours, regardless whether you can handle it or not. Feels right at home, feels—

“Who’s your Daddy?” he questions without slowing down the rhythm of his brutal pace. “Who’s fucking you this good?” 

You hum, licking your lips, and your confidence fucks with him, strips him bare of any sanity he had left. You give him the eyes, flick your tongue against his lips before you tilt your head to kiss him with a brief passion. “You are.”

Butterflies. 

Jungkook drops the vibrator on the bed. Has to touch you, has to grip you—and he does. His hand finds your throat and he squeezes, kissing you with the same passion, prolonging it because what you did wasn’t fair. He needs the passion; he needs to swallow it down and feel it course down his body. And when you give him just that, along with your luscious moans, he rewards you. 

Gives you all of his cock. 

He rams himself into you, balls deep. Repeats it over and over, each thrust harder than the one before. Watches your irises disappear from your eyes, mouth agape, voice gone. Jungkook senses you’re leaving planet Earth again and he stops you. 

“Is this Daddy of yours your boyfriend now?” 

Like a bell, his heart is clanging and the freedom in that sentence losing its principle of ever being a risk causes his eyes to fill with tears again. He’s a mess. His emotions are a mess. But he’s so happy. 

And the smile you give him due to that question—it charges him with the longing power to own it, own you, so he grabs you everywhere. Your chin, your cheeks, your mouth, and you never stop smiling, not even when you say, “he is my boyfriend now, you got a problem with that?” 

The chuckle that rumbles out of his chest is a surprise to him because dizziness takes a hold of his entire being. He’s gone—he’s about to die. This is it. 

He kisses you and the act of your lips wrapping around his makes this so much more real. He squeezes you and bunny in his arms, hips grinding his circles now. “Does it hurt when I’m this deep?” he murmurs. 

“No, feels good.” 

“Let me know if it starts hurting, alright?” 

You nod, pecking him, gripping his hair. 

Jungkook lets go of your hand and slowly lifts you up and down on the hardness of his cock from behind. You’re so light in his hands, like a little angel assigned to his side, just his to play with. You tip your head back, the smile of yours having bloomed into a full grin. Jungkook watches you in awe. 

“Look at you riding me. You don’t need any help.” 

You giggle. Jungkook feels his cheeks fire up. Thinks the sound is angelic, it must be. Thinks the squelch of your pussy taking him, leaving him dewy, is angelic, too. 

It makes him stop playing with you and fuck you properly instead. 

He sits up. Angles your head so your lips touch his, but he doesn’t kiss you. He wants you there so you swallow all of the words that will come off his tongue, so you remember them even when the delirium wears off. 

He pounds into you. 

You’re no longer smiling. 

Takes the vibrator again. Provokes you, just because he can’t help it, by turning up the intensity and letting it only float above your clit, never letting it touch you. He’s not fast as he fucks you. On the contrary, his thrusts are hard. 

Merciless. 

He feels evil when he removes the toy completely, makes sure you watch, and presses it down into the softness between bunny’s legs. He turns your head back to face him and he mimics your moans, scrunches his features in pleasure, giving life to the plushie—acting for her.

But his meanness makes you come and you fall apart in his hands. He feels bad, terribly bad for you, and the feeling begins to consume his insides—so much that he gives you the pleasure he denied you mid climax. He presses the toy against your clit and—

You’re gone. 

Your stream of pleasure forces him out of you and it makes him moan loudly. It makes him moan when he rubs the vibrator all over your absolutely drenched cunt and you just keep coming. And it makes him moan when you beg him to keep fucking you. 

Who is he to say no to you? 

“You just want it bad, don’t you?” 

You nod against his head. Gone, gone, gone. He follows you into that rabbit hole, pounding you rough and fast this time, keeping you caged against him, fingers back in an intricate interlock. You smother him with your femininity and Jungkook is perpetually at wonder how you manage to do that, how you manage to never have enough. It makes him lose his fucking mind, lose everything—lose his identity. He just blurs into you. The stars in his chest pour like liquid into your ribcage. He feels them quivering when he touches your breasts all over. Wonders if you’ll come again for him. 

“Pussy molded just for me, hm, isn’t it?” he breathes. Hot, sweaty, on the brink of insanity. White flashes. Balls tight. Dizziness stealing his senses. “Good little pussy, always wanting more.” 

The air grows dense. 

“Mine,” he growls, voice strained—so close, so fucking close. “My pussy. Mine to fuck. Mine to eat. Mine to love—”

His gut tenses. Flames burn it hot. Time stops. Knuckles turn ivory in the feverish grip of your fingers upon bunny’s tummy; your walls, too, splattered in magnificent white. Jungkook fucks his cum into you, once, twice, for the last time—pumping you full. Giving you all that he has. 

He falls limp against his pillows. The toy buzzes on upon the comforter, long abandoned. 

His exhaustion doesn’t let him open his eyes. Not when his eyes sting with tears once more, not even when your warmth leaves his manhood. He knows you didn’t come this time around, however he doesn’t have the strength to fix it. His vigor oozed out of him and nestled within you—like his control, like his love, like his cum. 

He will make it up to you tomorrow morning. 

Now he needs sleep. He needs the tears to halt their hurting by leaking out of the inner corners of his eyes. Would prefer if you weren’t the witness to it because with his vigor departing, his vulnerability heightened. He’s ashamed of the sea of his feelings, but there’s nothing he can do to change that. He just loves you. 

He’s so happy that he’s yours and he fucked you so good and—

“You tired, baby?” 

You sound just like him. 

Jungkook suppresses his sob, swallows it right down. 

“I’m spent.” Too emotional. “Too spent to wash up.”

He feels a kiss on his nose, the comforter lifting, small warm hands on his body as he’s being tucked into his bed. Jungkook lies on his side. Feels too lonely. As if you had insight into his soul, you settle into the spaces of his form that you know are there for you to hide in. 

With a barrier in between. 

You push bunny’s back against his chest. Click the lamp off.

In the darkness, Jungkook allows his lungs to expand in their silent weeping. Finds bunny, finds your arm. Moves you closer until the plushie serves like a heart in the middle of your bodies. Fingers petting your hair, he allows another thing—

“I love you.” 

© 2024��hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two

[scoutswritingcorner]

Can we have more overlord huskerdust? With a male reader who's soul belongs to zestial, they're a Butler and is being abused and used by him. Reader never said anything about zestial being his owner cause they're were threatened and scare that zestial would hurt them.

Hope this isn't too much, srry if it is 😭🩷

Safe And Sound

Overlord!HuskerDust x Male Reader

TW: Mentions of abuse but nothing is explicitly written , crying.

A/n: I’m so glad you like my Overlord HuskerDust headcanons friend! I love these two silly men, not gonna lie I cried when writing this purely cause of the angst. BUT! It does have a happy ending and I hope you enjoy it anon! 

Being the boyfriend of two very powerful overlords means you get everything you want when you want, but sadly your freedom is not one of those things until one night.

You sat comfortably on Husk’s lap as you watched the poor fool in front of him slowly lose all his money, the way he kept coming back day after day just to beat the big boss himself. You grimaced and looked away to hide how much pain you were in as a simple fact of nuzzling your boyfriend’s neck as his claws slowly raked over the forming bruise on your leg. You had come straight to the casino after you had survived another grueling day of being a butler for Zestial, you just wanted to be surrounded by your boyfriends and grab a nice drink. But now you felt..uncomfortable around all these people, like they knew. Like your boyfriends knew about the damn contract keeping you locked down by the neck.

It felt suffocating and you hated it, Husk’s hand moved up to squeeze your waist, “What’s wrong, Pretty Boy?” He whispered, concerned as he waved off the poor excuse of a demon and leaned back in his chair. “Nothing, Husk..just tired is all.” You replied, leaning your head back and ignoring how his golden eyes stared at your face as you fixed the suit you had worn today, you didn’t want to worry him or Angel they had enough on their minds as is so when his paw had moved down to brush your leg once more your body had tensed and you swallowed down the pain you felt. “Give me a moment to get everyone out so I can close up, then we can head to bed.” He replied leaning in to give you a gentle kiss as you slowly stood up from his lap.

It was only a few moments later when he had appeared once more, guiding you to the back of the Casino with his paw on your lower back, you were so glad that the bruise was finally healing up and didn’t hurt much anymore. You leaned closer to Husk as he led you into the elevator that went up to the penthouse that you, Angel and Husk lived in at the top of his Casino. When you first started dating them, you didn’t want to move into the penthouse with them. Not because it was bad, but because you didn’t want to move into their space, it was too nice and you felt you would’ve ruined it a long time ago. 

“C’mon Handsome, what’s going on?” Husk’s voice caught you off guard, your face heating up from the name but your hand played with the button on your suit jacket. “You’d be upset if I told you,” You replied as Husk pulled you closer to his side, kissing your cheek carefully as if he was trying to ease your worry. The elevator doors opened with a soft ‘ding’ and you quickly excused yourself from his grip to rush to the bedroom, the suit felt heavier and heavier by the second making you think about the green chain wrapped around your neck. It made you want to throw up and lay in bed all day. You could hear Angel’s voice echo down the hallway as you shut the bedroom door behind you, you just needed to get your pajamas on and go to sleep, it would be better in the morning. Right? 

It wasn’t until you were already in bed, snuggled deep into the covers with Fat Nuggets curled in your arms did it hit. The tears started to flow as you could barely move your bruised leg, you couldn’t sleep as the thoughts kept racing and you don’t remember when you felt a pair of arms wrap around you. But you were crying harder than before trying to keep your boyfriends from seeing you like this, soft paws carefully moving the pig away from you as you turned and buried your face into white chest fluff, “We got ya’ suga’...take deep breaths for us?” Angel’s voice whispered out as he kissed the top of your head, nodding along as you took deep but shaky breaths feeling Husk rub your back, both of them sent a look to each other, something was seriously wrong. Once you had calmed down a bit but was still curled up on Angel’s chest was when they finally asked the question.

“Handsome? Is someone hurting you?” The question was simple but the way you froze before slowly nodding immediately made the anger in them rise as it tried to show its ugly face. “Zestial owns my soul and has been hitting me, I was so afraid to tell you both cause what if he finds out and kills me?” You whispered sitting up as tears formed into your eyes once more, but Angel pulled you close and gently kissed your tears away. “He’s been..abusing me ever since he found out that I’ve been dating you both. I’m nothing and you both are everything.” You whispered out as you looked at Angel. Angel knew the look he had on his face wasn’t the soft look he gave you and Husk in private, it was the one he used when someone had threatened you and in turn threatened him and Husk.

“You are everything, Suga’. You are our everything, we would never be angry at the simple fact that someone is hurting you. We want you safe and sound in our arms, that old bag of bones is nothing but hateful. We’ll deal with everything okay?” Angel hummed and watched as you nodded, glancing over at Husk who was angrily puffing on a cigar near the window. He was pissed but not at you, never at you. “Husky, babycakes, come back to bed.” Angel called out watching as the feline’s ears fell flat on his head before he put the cigar out easily. “Fine, but I’m dealing with that old fuck in the morning.” Husk growled out moving back towards the bed, his suit long gone as he now wore nothing but his lucky pair of boxers with the hearts on it. 

~~~

You were slowly waking up when you had realized Husk and Angel were gone from the bed, you didn’t mind it as they were always busy with something and Angel only left if he needed to get up right then. Otherwise, he would’ve still been in bed with you and Fat Nuggets. You slowly get up and get dressed for the day, but the whole time something felt off. There was no calling from Zestial pulling on that wretched chain nor the feeling of dread right around the corner, something that followed Zestial around like a plague. You walked around the home whilst the little piglet happily followed after you, you stopped at Angel’s in the home office and knocked on the door. After a few seconds you slowly opened the door and peaked your head in. He wasn’t there and you didn’t hear Husk playing his favorite Jazz from his office either so you huffed, guess they had to go out and get work done or there was a meeting.

You quickly closed Angel’s office door shut and made your way to the kitchen, you were hungry and you guessed the little piglet at your feet was too. You chuckled hearing his little oinks as he looked up at you, “Hold on, Nuggies. Papa is making you some breakfast.” You hummed as you pulled out his food and your own ingredients to begin making breakfast, the little piglet patiently waiting for his food and laying on one of your feet. It wasn’t until you heard the doors to the penthouse opening that you looked up seeing as Angel and Husk walked back in holding bags and looking amazing as always. 

“Good Morning, Handsome!” Angel called out walking over to kiss your cheek before wrapping one of his lower arms around your waist, as Husk pulled you into a gentle and loving kiss, “Sorry for leaving so early, Pretty Boy.” He hummed as you smiled, “No worries, you both are busy men. Are you hungry?”  You asked leaning back into Angel’s embrace as he gasped, “Oh you know it, baby~ I could just kill for your cooking~” He purred into your ear, making a shiver run down your spine and a blush form on your cheeks.

After a very interesting breakfast between the three of you, they both sat you down on the couch and you watched as Husk reached into his suit jacket. Once he showed the golden paper, your body froze and began to shake but he quickly handed it over to you. Angel wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek, “It’s okay..just read it for us, Handsome..” He whispered out as he watched your shaking hands slowly unravel the scroll. Your eyes shakily scan the paper as the anxiety rose in your stomach before it dropped in a matter of seconds replaced by the feeling of excitement.  The big bold words across the whole contract read ‘VOID’ and you looked up at Husk and then Angel then back down at the paper. “You..you got him to void the contract? I’m..I’m not under his control anymore?” You asked, hands shaking as both men smiled at you. “Not anymore, Hot stuff. You’re free once more.” Husk purred leaning back in his favorite armchair, cigar hanging from his lips as his grin grew. So that’s why everything felt different this morning, you had your soul back and it was freeing. Dropping the golden paper you hugged Angel Dust close as he pressed kisses all across your face.

“No one will hurt you anymore, Suga’.” He purred out, you couldn’t be happier.

[moonselune]

Eyooo was wandering if u could do the ladies reacting to a gn Tav using their entire body to shield the women from a fireball blast? Like they hear the spellcaster going for it and they just engulf the ladies in what is essentially a bear hug that fully covers the ladies so they don't get affected by the blast please?

Icl all I thought about whilst writing this was the Sean Paul 'Fireball' song, hence why this came out less angsty lmao

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The battlefield was chaos, a cacophony of clashing steel and arcane energy. Amidst the fray, you spotted the enemy spellcaster, their hands already weaving the intricate patterns of a fireball spell. Your heart lurched as you realized the blast was aimed directly at Karlach, her back turned as she fought off a group of gnolls.

Without a second thought, you surged forward, throwing yourself between Karlach and the impending explosion. Wrapping her in a tight embrace, you used your entire body to shield her from the blast, feeling the heat and force of the fireball scorch your back. The pain was immediate and intense, but you held on, determined to protect her.

As the fireball dissipated, you slumped to the ground, your body charred and smoking. Karlach spun around, her eyes wide with horror and fury.

"Are you out of your mind?" she roared, her voice a mix of anger and concern. "I’m literally fire resistant, you idiot! I'm basically on fire 24/7. Why did you do that?"

You managed a weak smile, your voice barely a whisper. "Couldn't risk it… didn't want you to get hurt."

Karlach knelt beside you, her hands shaking as she tried to assess your injuries. "You're a damn fool," she muttered, her tone softening as she saw the extent of your burns. "But you're my damn fool."

Shadowheart arrived, her face set in a mask of concentration as she began to cast healing spells. Karlach stayed by your side, her anger giving way to a fierce protectiveness.

"You're not doing that again, you hear me?" Karlach said, her voice choked with emotion. "You can't keep risking yourself like this."

Despite the pain, you reached up to touch her cheek. "I'll always protect you, Karlach. Always."

Her eyes softened, and she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I'll always protect you, too. So no more heroics, okay?"

You nodded weakly, comforted by her presence and the knowledge that, and despite your recklessness, Karlach would always be there for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The din of battle was deafening, and amidst the chaos, you heard the ominous chanting of a fireball spell. Your heart raced as you saw it aimed straight at Minthara. Without hesitation, you sprinted towards her, your body moving on instinct.

"Get down!" you shouted, throwing yourself around her in a protective bear hug.

"What are you—" Minthara began, but her words were cut off as the fireball erupted against your back.

The intense heat seared your flesh, the pain nearly unbearable. You grit your teeth, holding Minthara tightly to shield her from the worst of the blast. The flames licked around you, but you refused to let go until the fire had passed.

When the magic finally dissipated, you crumpled to the ground, your body charred and smoking. Minthara immediately knelt beside you, her eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and worry.

"You fool!" she snapped, her voice trembling. "There was no need for this. I could have taken the hit."

You coughed weakly, managing a small, pained smile. "Couldn't risk it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Had to protect you."

Minthara's expression softened ever so slightly, but she still looked furious. "You reckless idiot," she muttered, her hands moving to cast a healing spell over you. Divine energy flowed from her fingers, mending your burnt flesh and easing your pain.

As she worked, Minthara glanced over her shoulder and barked, "Shadowheart, tend to Gale. He's likely to get himself killed without supervision."

Shadowheart nodded and moved to attend to Gale, leaving Minthara to focus on you. She continued to channel healing energy, her touch surprisingly gentle.

"You should not have done that," Minthara said quietly, her anger giving way to a more vulnerable tone. "Your life is just as important as mine."

You reached up, your hand trembling, to touch her cheek. "I couldn't let anything happen to you," you murmured. "Not while I could still do something about it."

Minthara sighed, her eyes closing briefly as she leaned into your touch. "You are a stubborn one," she said softly. "But I suppose I cannot fault you for your loyalty."

She finished her healing spell, the light fading as she helped you sit up. "Just promise me you won't throw yourself into danger so recklessly again," she said, her eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of sternness and concern.

"I'll try," you said, knowing full well that it was a promise easier said than done. Minthara shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You're impossible," she murmured, but there was a warmth in her gaze as she helped you to your feet.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The battlefield was a chaotic clashing of weapons and arcane spells. Amidst it all, you fought alongside Lae'zel, your heart pounding with the rhythm of combat. Suddenly, a sinister voice rang out from the enemy ranks, casting a familiar and dreaded incantation. Ignis.

Your instincts took over. You saw the spellcaster hurling a bead of intense flame towards your group, its trajectory set to engulf Lae'zel. Without a second thought, you lunged towards her, wrapping your arms around her in a protective embrace. Your larger frame enveloped hers completely, creating a shield with your body.

The explosion was deafening. Heat seared through your clothes, burning your skin, but you held firm, refusing to let go. The pain was a distant sensation compared to your determination to protect Lae'zel. When the flames finally dissipated, you collapsed to the ground, smoke rising from your charred body.Lae'zel disentangled herself from your embrace, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and fury.

"Why did you do that, you fool?" she demanded, her voice trembling despite its harshness. "I am a warrior, stronger and more resilient than you. Sacrificing yourself was unnecessary!"

You managed a weak smile, your voice raspy from the pain. "Lae'zel, I love you… but you need to shut up and go get Shadowheart. Now."

For a moment, she seemed to struggle with her emotions, her grip tightening on her weapon. Then, with a frustrated growl, she nodded and sprinted towards the camp.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The battle was fierce, with spells and steel clashing in a chaotic dance of death. You and Shadowheart were in the thick of it, fighting side by side against a band of ruthless mercenaries. The enemy, seeing the tide turning against them, began chanting the incantation for a fireball, the air around him crackling with arcane energy.

You heard the familiar and dreaded sound of the spell being prepared and saw the fiery orb forming in the enemy's hands. Your eyes darted to Shadowheart, who was focused on healing an injured companion, her back turned to the imminent danger.

Without a second thought, you launched yourself towards her, engulfing her in a protective embrace. Your arms wrapped around her tightly, and you spun around, placing your body between her and the incoming fireball. The moment seemed to stretch into an eternity as the world around you slowed down.

"What are you—" Shadowheart started to protest, but her words were cut off by the deafening roar of the explosion.

The fireball hit, and the searing heat and force of the blast tore through you. Pain unlike anything you had ever felt surged through your body, but you held on, using every ounce of your strength to shield Shadowheart from the brunt of the attack. The flames licked at your skin, burning and blistering, but you refused to let go. Your only thought was to keep her safe.

When the flames finally subsided, you collapsed to the ground, your body charred and smoking. Shadowheart, unharmed but wide-eyed with shock, immediately pushed herself up and turned to you.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of anger and worry. “What were you thinking? That was so stupid, you idiot!”

You managed a pained smile, your voice weak but filled with determination. “There was no sense in the healer getting hurt,” you croaked. “We need you to keep everyone else alive.”

Shadowheart’s expression softened, though her eyes still blazed with a mix of emotions. She knelt beside you, her hands already glowing with the healing magic of Selûne. “You reckless fool,” she muttered, but there was a tenderness in her tone. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” you replied, wincing as the healing energy began to mend your burns. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Her hands moved over your wounds, the light of her healing magic soothing the pain and repairing the damage. She worked quickly and efficiently, but her touch was gentle, almost reverent. “Next time, let me handle the danger,” she scolded, though her voice was soft. “You’re too important to risk like that.”

“I’ll try,” you said with a faint smile, feeling the pain ebb away as her magic did its work. “But no promises. I’d do anything to protect you.”

Shadowheart sighed, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re impossible,” she murmured, finishing her healing spell. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But I suppose that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“I love you too, Shadowheart,” you whispered. You reached up, your fingers lightly brushing her cheek, then with a final surge of healing energy, she restored your strength, the burns on your skin fading away.

“There,” she said, helping you to your feet. “Try not to get yourself killed, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The skirmish was intense, the air thick with the scent of ozone and blood. You fought side by side with Jaheira, her movements a graceful dance of deadly precision. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw an enemy mage chanting, his hands weaving an ominous pattern in the air. One you recognised as 'Fireball'.

Your heart lurched. You knew the spell well and its devastating potential. Without hesitation, you threw yourself towards Jaheira, wrapping her in a bear hug that used your body as a shield. The world exploded in a torrent of flame, pain scorching every nerve ending as you took the full brunt of the blast.

When the flames subsided, you fell to the ground, your body smoking and charred. Jaheira gently extricated herself from your grip, her eyes filled with concern and something deeper.

"Why?" she asked softly, kneeling beside you. "Why would you take such a risk?"

You managed a pained chuckle, wincing at the effort. "Because, Jaheira, your ancient bones are just too flammable."

A spark of amusement flickered in her eyes, though it was tempered by worry. "If you weren't already burnt to a crisp, I would hit you."

You smiled weakly. "Just get Shadowheart. I might not be able to take another one of those for your brittle bones,"

Jaheira squeezed your hand briefly, her expression softening with tenderness. "Stay strong, my dearest," she murmured, before hurrying off to find Shadowheart.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

What do we think about adding Jaheira to the main roster of BG3 ladies, pls lmk because I may start adding her - Seluney xox

[hapuchika]

The White Healer Chapter 8

Chapter Warning: Smut, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, edging (blink and you'll miss it), mention of blood.

Author's note: Sorry it took me so long to post this. Still not used to writing detailed smut. I hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

X--X--X--X--X

“We require your help healing All-father and bringing peace to the nine realms”

All eyes shifted to you.

What the fuck???

It took you less the a minute to come to your decision.

“Nope. Not happening” you said, not bothering to look at anyone as you walked straight towards the fridge.

Thor paused, concerned. He was under the impression that you’d jump at the opportunity to help people.

“I- I do not understand” he said confused.

You sighed, shutting the fridge door. You turned around and walked towards the kitchen island. Looking straight into Thor’s eyes you asked him gently.

“Is your dad in pain?”

“No..” Came the reply

“Okay, perfect. Give me 2-3 days to recover and then we can see” you said decidedly.

“So.. you will help us?” He asked uncertainly.

“Yes, I will. I just need 3 days to recover. I wont be any help if I just pass out in the middle of battle or anything.” You said picking up your phone.

“Now, if you need me. I will be in my room with my two.. um.. best friends. Hanging out. Yep hanging out”

Wanda turned completely red the moment she heard that. Natasha did her utmost best to hold back her laughter. Pietro merely fake gagged and walked away, muttering about how he absolutely doesn’t need to hear that shit.

Not waiting for anyone else, you walked out of the kitchen. Followed by a very red Wanda and a grinning Natasha. 

It took all of you barely 10 minutes to shower and get ready in your respective rooms.

When the two women entered your room, you barely waited a moment before pulling Natasha into a deep kiss. She let out a surprised moan but immediately kissed you back. Her hands roamed your arms and your hair. Wanda made her way around you and started kissing down Natasha’s neck. Nat started letting out soft moans into your kiss, her grip in your hair tightening. When the two of you pulled back for some air, Wanda took this as an opportunity to smash her lips against yours. Smiling into the kiss you slowly made your way towards the bed. Wanda let out a giggle as you pushed her onto the bed, she repositioned herself to sit up against the headboard. You pulled Natasha on top of you as you sat down on the bed, allowing her to straddle you. The moment she was comfortable, you started kissing her jaw. Nibbling on her earlobe and leaving wet open mouth kisses down her neck. Nat let out a low moan, which Wanda echoed. Frowning you turned around to see Wanda’s hand in her pants, teasing her clit. Her face was flushed as she was breathing slightly heavy. You raised your eyebrow making her pause.

“Oh don’t stop on my account” you said sardonically.

She let out a sheepish giggle. You look at her hand being hidden by her pants and smirked.

“Those pants seem to be restricting you a little too much. I think it’d be better if you got rid of them entirely.”

Wanda did not hesitate to do so, before you could see her remove it Natasha grabbed your face and made you look at her.

“Don’t forget about my reward, detka” She whispered seductively.

You kissed down her neck and nipped at her collarbone as far as the t-shirt let you.

“All of this needs to come off.” you growled, grabbing her t-shirt.

She stood back and slowly removed her top and bra. Natasha swore she heard you whimper. Smirking she removed her shorts and panties next.

“Dear lord” you breathed.

Natasha was… absolutely stunning. You felt like a teenager due to the way you just couldn’t take your eyes off her body. She went to straddle you once again and you groaned at the feeling of her heat against your thigh. Grabbing her butt, you flipped the both of you so her back was against the bed. Your breath got caught in your throat as this angle gave you the perfect view of a very naked Natasha and an equally naked Wanda. Wanda was lazily rubbing her clit, watching you and Nat interact with hooded eyes. You brought your eyes back to the goddess lying underneath you.

“Can I touch you?” You whispered, looking straight into Nat’s eyes.

Her breath hitched at the genuineness in your gaze. She realised then that if she had said no even now, you would not be upset or disappointed. The care and adoration you showed her caused a lump to form in her throat. It hit her that her feelings for you were far deeper than she realised.

“Ruin me.. please” Nat pleaded.

Wanda’s eyes widened at the sight of her girlfriend begging. Unable to bear the heat between her thighs she slowly inserted one finger in her, wanting to tease herself until you or nat touched her.

You maintained eye contact with Nat as you slowly kissed down her chest, leaving open mouth kissed around her breasts. Being careful not to touch her nipple.

“Please” Nat begged, “I need you so bad”.

You nibbled your way to her nipple and flicked your tongue against it. Nat’s reaction was immediate, back arching and a gasp. Her nipples hardened even further.

Unable to hold yourself back any further you took her nipple in your mouth and flicked it with your tongue, while simultaneously massaging her other breast with your hand. 

Nat let out a loud moan. Her hands went to grab your back. You froze for a brief moment, enough for her to notice, she looked at you concerned. You merely grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head.

“Keep your hands to yourself, darling. Trust me it’ll feel better” you promised

Nodding, she leaned her head back against the bed and keeping her hands above her head even after you released them. 

“Good girl” you praised. 

Natasha blushed at the praise, then let out a yelp as you tugged her nipple with your teeth. 

You proceeded to give it gentle licks in apology. You moved on to the next nipple, giving it the same treatment; gentle tugs proceeded by licks. 

You slowly left a trail of bites down her body, making your way to her thighs. You reached her inner thigh and bit hard, strings of curses left Nat’s mouth as you left a deep red hickey against her pale skin. You stayed there for a moment, appreciating the sight of these two goddesses panting with pleasure, both of their eyes on you.

“Please let me touch you, Y/n. Please.” Natasha begged, gripping the bed sheet so tightly you expected it to tear. 

You hummed in approval against her thigh, leaving a trail of hickeys around her intoxicating heat. Immediately Nat laced her fingers in your hair, gently urging you towards where she needed you most. She felt as though she was going to combust if you didn’t touch her soon. She had never experienced this level of desperation but it felt so good. 

Finally, you licked her slit. Sending a shiver up her spine cause her to arch it reflexively. Unable to control yourself any further you took her clit into your mouth and sucked, licking it simultaneously.

“Oh my god.”  She cried out, her grip in your hair tightening to a painful degree. 

She canted her hips up, attempting to use your face to rub herself against but you were having none of it. You clamped your arms around her legs and held her hips in place, continuing your assault on her clit. Her moans got progressively louder, chanting yours and Wanda’s name. 

You continued to taste her while you slowly inserted a finger inside her. You moaned when you felt her clench around your finger, her chest heaving as moans continue to spill out of her mouth. 

“More” she gasped, “please”. 

You oblige by adding two more fingers, Nat freezes and lets out a loud groan. 

“So fucking full” she whispered, her hands move from your hair to grip the sheets. 

Once she indicated that you can move, you begin to hammer your fingers into her stealing her breath away. Natasha lets out a scream as you begin to lick her clit rapidly. The coil in her belly tightened, her entire body tensing. 

“Please please please let me cum” she begged, feeling herself about to hurtle towards what was sure to be one of the strongest orgasms of her life. You hum in approval, not stopping your movements. Nat lets out the loudest scream of the night, her pussy clenching so hard around your fingers it was almost impossible to move them. Her eyes rolled back, body spasming, unable to do anything except feel the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her body. She waited for you to slow down and withdraw your fingers from her but you did none of that. It hit her that you had no intention of stopping.

“Breathe, baby” she head Wanda’s voice in her head. 

That’s when Nat inhaled sharply, gasping for breath. Her head spun as she could feel the pleasure start to build up again, faster this time. Tears sprung from Nat’s eyes at the overwhelming pleasure. She let out a silent scream as she came again, her vision turned white. You watched in amazement as cum gushed out of her. You cleaned up the entire mess with your tongue until you felt Nat weakly push your head away from her core. 

You pulled back to admire an absolute fucked out Natasha. Tears ran her face, her chest heaving and her entire body trembling. 

“Done already?” You teased, gently caressing her arm with your fingers. 

“Give me.. a sec- a second.” She panted, the baby hairs stuck to her forehead in sweat. 

You and Wanda let out a laugh.

“I’m just teasing, darling” you said, pecking her lips, followed by Wanda pecking her lips.

You turned to Wanda, who had an incredibly mischievous smile.

She crawled up to you and grabbed the collar of your sweatshirt.

“Please make me feel good, I’ve been edging myself all this time cause I wanted you to make me cum” She said, slight desperation in her voice.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You didn’t cum this entire time?” You asked, partially confused but mostly impressed.

She merely nodded and slowly pulled you in by your neck. You obliged and kissed her until you both needed air. She let out a surprised gasp when you gently flicked her nipple. 

“Please don’t tease me draga” she begged, eyes blown with lust.

You slowly trailed your hand down her body, groaning when you felt her wetness.

“You’re absolutely soaked, baby” you whispered into her ear.

She merely whimpered as your fingers slowly collected her wetness. It was at this moment that Nat had decided she’d recovered enough. Without anyone noticing, she’d rolled over to Wanda’s side and started kissing down the other side of her neck. Wanda sighed in pleasure at the feeling. Deeming your fingers were wet enough, you slowly rubbed circles around her clit. Wanda let out a pleased hum, gasping when Nat latched onto her nipple.

“Fuck” Wanda groaned.

You took that as a signal to go faster, her eyebrows scrunched together as her mouth opened in pleasure. Short gasps and moans left her freely. Her one hand grabbed the back of your head while the other interlocked with Nat’s free hand. 

“Please” Wanda gasped, “Inside.”

You immediately thrust two fingers into her, your palm rubbing against her clit deliciously.

“Yes. Yes” She chanted, getting closer and closer.

Nat had decided it was the perfect moment to kiss Wanda senseless. The feeling of Nat kissing her and your fingers in her were too much for Wanda, she came with a loud moan. Nat greedily swallowed it all.

You slowly removed your fingers from Wanda and brought them to your mouth. Both Wanda’s and Nat’s eyes darkened as you let out a moan.

“God the both of you taste exquisite” You said hungrily.

Wanda’s breath hitched as you made your way down her body, desperate to taste her from the source.

You licked her slit, parting it with your tongue. Wanda let out whimper at the feeling. You slowly inserted your tongue in her vagina, causing Wanda to let out a low ‘fuck me’.

“I believe that’s exactly what we’re doing, kotenok” Nat replied huskily.

Wanda let out a choked moan instead of replying when your nose bumped against her clit. God the two of you were driving Wanda crazy, Nat’s nails digging into Wanda’s sides while your mouth was doing.. that. She knew she wasn’t going to last long with the way things were going, instinctively her hand grabbed the back of your head as she started grinding against your face. What was surprising was that you let her, keeping your face still while Wanda got off on it. Her moans got higher in pitch as she neared her climax, her glossy eyes drifted to Natasha. Nat immediately understood what her girlfriend was searching for. 

“You can cum for us, kotenok” she said, pulling Wanda into a deep kiss.

Wanda saw stars as she came, back arching and loud muffled moans leaving her mouth. You gradually slowed tongue-fucking her, letting Wanda set the pace. Eventually Wanda came to a stop, she looked at you and felt her core clench. The sight of you, hooded eyes and mouth glistening with her cum.

Fear gripped Wanda as you stood up and started walking away from the bed.

“You’re not leaving, right?” She said, feeling especially vulnerable.

You paused, turning back to her with a reassuring smile.

“I’m just getting a cloth to clean you both” you said softly.

“This also happens to be my room, darling” you added teasingly.

Wanda blushed and nodded meekly, slapping Natasha when she laughed. Nat looked at her with a raised eyebrow, Wanda merely gulped and looked away.

You returned a moment later with two washcloths, you kneeled beside Wanda and cleaned her up. She let out a slight hiss from the sensitivity to which you kissed her stomach in apology.

Nat didn’t say anything as you moved to her once you finished with Wanda, she wouldn’t admit it but she enjoyed the intimacy of the moment. Once they were all cleaned up, you gave them some shorts and oversized t-shirts to sleep in. 

Nat frowned as you gave them water bottles and started to prepare for bed. 

“We didn’t get to do anything for you..” She said out loud.

Wanda, too, looked back at you. You merely shook your head slightly.

“Tonight was about the two of you. We can focus on me some other time” you said with a slightly sad smile.

Neither said anything as they didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

The three of you eventually cuddled up in bed and slowly drifted off to sleep, you being the last one to go to sleep.

Natasha woke covered in sweat, her heart pounding, and her chest heaving. Nightmares of the red room plagued her sleep. She got up with a quiet sigh, she looked over to see you sleeping on your back and Wanda’s leg over yours, quiet snores escaping the witch. Nat allowed herself to soak in the feeling of completeness before getting up and going to the common room. Thankfully Tony had installed a coffee machine and a kettle in every common room so she didn’t have to go to the kitchen just to make herself some tea. She sat with her mug and looked at the stars, tears falling down her face as the memories of that place washed over her.

Nat’s body stiffened when she heard footsteps make their way to common room only to relax when she realised it was you. She smiled, knowing you were making your footsteps heavy on purpose so she would know someone was coming. She would’ve known regardless, but she definitely appreciated the gesture. 

Soon you popped your head in and knocked softly against the wall.

“Can I join you?” You asked softly.

Nat nodded, her heart warming at your thoughtfulness.

You sat beside her in comfortable silence, gazing at the stars and leaning against each other.

Eventually you broke the silence.

“Do you feel like talking about what happened?” You asked gently.

Nat merely shrugged.

“I had a nightmare about my graduation ceremony at the red room” she said sadly.

You looked at her slightly confused. You weren’t be surprised that someone as smart and worldly as Nat had a college degree, you were, however, confused at the name of the institution.

“The red room is where Natasha was forced to train as an assassin, detka” Wanda said.

You flinched at her voice, not having heard her enter. Natasha obviously had but since it was Wanda she didn’t mind it. Wanda walked and sat on Nat’s other side, intertwining their hands.

“They trained me to be a monster” Nat muttered.

You frowned.

“You’re not a monster N-“ you began

“You don’t know that.” She interrupted exasperated. She got up and started pacing around.

“You don’t know me. The things they did to me, the things that I’ve done. The people I have killed. My ledger is dripping red. I try my hardest to help people but it never makes up for the fact that I’ve killed people in cold blood. When a widow graduates the red room, they make sure that the widows.. can’t have kids..”

Nat’s eyes make contact with your teary ones.

Before Natasha could continue, she was engulfed by a hug from her front and back. Unable to hold back any longer, Nat let her tears flow freely. The three of you slowly sit on the ground hugging each other. When the tears stopped, you pulled back a little bit.

“You’re not a monster, darling” you reassured her.

“But I’ve killed people. Not just bad people but innocent people.” Nat said weakly.

“I know, sweetie. But something tells me that the innocents you killed weren’t by choice. And I’m well aware that you’ve killed people. It doesn’t bother me when you kill bad people. Like that Hydra guy yesterday” you told them.

Their heads snapped up in surprise.

“You knew?” Wanda asked slowly.

“I thought you had passed out?” Natasha asked, frowning.

You chuckled.

“I had” you admitted, “but I could feel it when he died.”

Natasha gaped at you, “You can do that?”

“Kind of but that’s not the point.”

“What do you mea-“

“Anyway” you said sternly.

Both Nat and Wanda grumbled about how they were definitely going to have this conversation with you. You seemed to have a habit of not divulging your abilities forthright even with them.

You continued, “You were right about one thing, Nat.. I don’t know you.. Either of you. I think we’ve jumped into this head first. Maybe we should spend some time getting to know each other..”

The other two agreed. Five minutes later, the three of you sat on the ground facing each other next to the coffee table. Each holding a cup of coffee since no one was planning on sleeping.

You took turns asking each other questions. 

Natasha spoke about the red room; how they would force the girls to fight until one emerged victorious. She spoke about her younger sister Yelena, how Nat and Clint fought to destroy the Red Room. 

Wanda spoke about her and Pietro volunteering for the program, how she was frequently overwhelmed by everyone’s thoughts at the time. She spoke about how her parents used to make the family watch sitcoms to learn speaking in English, and how the Stark missile killed her parents and how they waited in the rubble for two days, unable to move as the final bomb continued to beep but didn’t explode.

You spoke about how after waking up from the entire soul stone ordeal, you walked to another city, unable to handle the memories of your sister at the orphanage. You slowly discovered you powers when you saw a sick cat on the street, in attempt to comfort her you stroked her head and wished you could help her somehow. To your surprise the cats body started glowing white and soon it had run off completely healthy, unfortunately you had spent the rest of the day in an alley unable to move. When they asked you how you knew the hydra goon died, you told them that souls passing into the afterlife was similar to Wanda hearing people’s thoughts. You just get a feeling and the closer they are to you the stronger it gets. Since time works a little differently with souls, a large amount of souls passing into the afterlife at once fills you with overwhelming panic. It wasn’t always before the event occurred, sometimes during, while sometimes a little later. As for all your abilities, you said you weren’t entirely sure of them as you were still discovering them. Wanda agreed as her powers also seemed to grow gradually, scaring her sometimes. 

Eventually the conversation became lighter, less emotionally taxing. The three of you spoke of your likes and dislikes. You then asked the question; if you could have a ‘thing’ with any other avenger, who would it be.

Natasha admitted how she flirted with Steve a while back, and how she briefly had feelings for Bruce.

Wanda remembered how she had a brief moment with Vision during the battle of Sokovia, how she felt a special connection with him because of the mind stone. Nat’s response was to grumble about how Wanda could ever have feelings about a damn toaster to which you just  laughed.

You told them how you were a raging homosexual. The mere thought of being intimate with a boy made you shudder. They laughed at your expression, but froze when you said you’d never actually been with anyone.

“Um detka.. we literally had sex a few hours ago?” Wanda said frowning.

“I know” came the reply, “I merely meant um.. I’ve never let someone.. you know.. touch me”

Both of their eyes widened at the implication, you suddenly found the floor incredibly interesting.

“Is it because of your scars?” Natasha asked gently.

Your head shot up in surprise.

“How did you..”

“We didn’t see the entire thing. It’s just that your sweatshirt practically shredded after the mission. That’s why I draped my jacket over you.” Wanda reassured you.

“So everyone saw it? Why didn’t anyone say something?” You breathed, your chest started to feel tighter and breathing was became more of an issue.

Noticing this, both women immediately came to your side. Wanda gently stroked your arm while Nat softly told you to follow her breaths. 

Once you calmed down you attempted to explain yourself but they just kissed you.

“You don’t have to explain yourself. Ever. You can always talk to us about it but we would never force you to talk or explain.” Wanda promised.

Your stomach grumbled loudly. Your face burned, whereas Wanda merely smiled.

“Is our little detka hungry?” She cooed.

“I’m bigger than both of you” you grumbled

Nat snorted in response.

Wanda gave you an affectionate kiss on your forehead, then to Natasha who just pulled her in for a kiss. Wanda pulled back after a bit and told the both of you to come to the kitchen in the next fifteen minutes while she prepares an early breakfast.

After she left, you just sat with Natasha.

“By the way..” You began, “about your graduation ceremony-“

“No.” Nat cut you off.

You looked confused.

“But I could help you-“ 

“No y/n. I don’t want you to feel that pain. Absolutely not. It’s something that happened to me and I have to live with it.” She said sternly, standing up.

You stood up with her, holding her hands.

“Nat from what you’ve told us, you were under anaesthesia. If you didn’t feel the pain, then I won’t either.” You tried to reassure her.

She looked at you in the eye.

“Have you ever healed a surgery before? Can you promise me it wont hurt you? I- I can’t have you go through that. It would break me. Please” she whispered.

“Sweetheart” you said as you pulled her into a hug, “I would never force you to do anything. Those… fuckers took away your choice. I’m merely giving it back. Of course I won’t do it if you don’t want to. I just want to give you the option so it doesn’t have to affect you like it does.” You said rubbing her back gently.

Nat nodded, but didn’t say anything. She leaned in to kiss you, which you readily reciprocated. You found yourself guiding her to the sofa, you pinned her arms above her out of habit.

“What if someone comes in?” Nat whispered, looking at the door.

You looked up to see the sun had risen, but it was still pretty early.

“We won’t do anything extreme” you promised.

When Nat nodded, you leaned in to kiss her. Before you could, your body was wrenched from on top of hers and Nat watched in horror as you fell back and hit the wall, hard. A small splatter of blood against the wall where your head hit it made Nat’s heart drop. She remembered how you’d said that head injuries were the worst.. She looked to see who did it only to find Bruce glaring at you, breathing heavy. His veins had a faint green shade which was growing stronger by the second.

Bruce was on the verge of hulk-ing out.. because of you.

X--X--X--X--X

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp @nothanksbye07 @jono723 @luadyjcmd @alexawynters

Pls comment your thoughts!!!

Edit: if anyone is wondering how Bruce was able to throw reader against the wall without turning into the hulk, I unfortunately have witnessed firsthand how easy it is for a fully grown skinny man to throw someone like me (I’m not exactly small 5’8” 75kgs) against the wall with relative ease..

[panickingpansexuality]

Mommy Issues

Your mother comes to visit you

Warning this story contains a not wonderful reunion with a toxic parent

For five years you have been no contact with your mother and everyday that her words didn't dig into you was another day that you were healing.

Elliott and you were at the Saloon sharing a drink in celebration of him coming home from a second book tour. He was working on another novel but was having trouble finding a good antagonist, luckily for him and ill fortunated of, you fate was just about to deliver one.

The door to the Saloon opened and your entire body went rigid.

"Ellie.." you whisper out. "We gotta go."

Elliott doesn't ask questions, the woman's back is turned to you two as she chats up Gus, quickly you two make it for the door and out into the night.

"Who is that?" He asks as you two speed walk home.

"My mother.." you say your heart clenching in your chest. "I can't believe she's here."

Elliott knew the relationship with your mother wasn't one to write home about, he knew that she had ripped your heart out with her narcissistic personality and you had fought hard to get away from her.

"Breathe my darling." Elliott said grabbing your hand

You went through your breathing exercises feeling the bile rise up in your throat. A thousand questions ran through your head as you wondered why she was here. Why now? Who had told her you were here? Dad?

You didn't remember the walk home, the feeling of Elliott holding your hand and controlling your uneven breaths were all you could register.

The lights were out, Elliot's body held yours as a form of sensory seeking.

"I hope she doesn't find the farm." You say quietly

Elliott stayed up with you until two when you both went to bed.

The next morning there was a knock on your door around ten. You went to answer it, Elliott was in the barn with Bubba the pig. Which left you alone with the woman you hated the most.

"Mother." You said.

"Hello (y/n), my darling. Stand up straight will you? Is this your home?" You stepped back as she let herself in.

"My, have you only just moved in? It looks like it needs a lot of work."

"We do ask." Elliott said from the doorway, "that guests take off their shoes before entering."

"Who's this?" Your mother asks taking a seat the table.

"My husband." You say tightly.

She looks Elliott up and down like a stain in the carpet, then turns to you.

"Well, I suppose that he's your type, though I think that he could do a little better."

"Do not speak about my partner like that." Elliott says coldly.

"Oh are you still in with that gender nonsense?" Your mother asks you. "Seriously darling, you're a perfect girl I see no reason to-"

"They," Elliott says tightly "are a perfect person and I think it's time you leave." Elliott says, "I spent four years chasing after that human. Four years of hoping and praying that I would get a single date and Yoba granted me with a partner more perfect than nature itself."

Your mother leaned back in the chair and looked him up and down.

"I came all this way and you're going to tell me to leave my daughter?"

"You came all this way to ridicule your child and I'm telling you that I will not stand by and have you rip away what they've been trying to heal for the last five years! Now you can either walk out or I can have our trusty goat kick you out."

"You let a goat into your house no wonder it's so-"

"Taylor!" Elliott yells outside, with a quick a high pitched whistle your goat jumps the stone fence and runs up past your dog and into the house.

The goat belts innocently at you, with a quick wag of it's tail it looks at the stranger and goes behind the chair she's sitting in.

The goat headbutts the chair and the woman stumbles out of it, she screeches as the goat and pulls the hem of your mother's skirt. She screams and runs out of the house cursing you both.

You run to the door and yell;

"Fuck off with you and your curses you hateful cunt!"

Elliott laughs and Taylor the goat belts after her, then innocently leaves the house and goes for the berry bush for a well deserved treat.

"Are you alright?" Elliott asks you.

You sigh and lean against the doorway, heart pounding, shaking your head you wordlessly allow Elliott to hold you in his arms.

"I froze up..thank you so much for standing up for me."

Elliott shakes kisses the top of your head, his arms like a weight holding you to reality that you're safe.

"I will always do what I can for you, please don't thank me for doing the bare minimum."

"Elliott, it isn't the bare minimum to me..its more than I could ever dream of someone doing for me."

Elliott sighs, a knot in his chest forming at how such a little basic action means the world to you, he feels good that he made you feel good but he hates how it was through him doing something anyone should do for you.

Your husband is almost startled when suddenly you pull away and place a sensual kiss to his lips, his arms coming to your ribcage to hold you close, a small groan escaping him as you kiss.

Someday you'll realize that someone who loves you should do more than the bare minimum for you and your confidence will truly thrive then and he can't wait to grow with you through that.

[oh-saints]

You could write something like friends with benefits with Ruben Dias but he really falls in love w reader 😬 ? you can decide the rest just make it angst

you really can blame back to december (taylor's version) for this. who's ready?

saudade

(portugese) a deep emotional state of melancholic longing for a person or thing that is absent; desiderium.

it was a word rúben only learnt in front of his oldest flame. his favourite flame. however, between the two of them, did time heal everything?

rúben dias x doctor!reader word count: 4.5k prompts: above + summer fling + @julianalvarez9's post here (sorry, girlie, gotta twist your idea a bit) tw: explicit foreplay but suggestive smut 👀 note: y'all can blame ms. swift's newly released album, okay? well, aside from the depressive mood lately and recent work stress, the particular song kickstarted me to write my arse off like i just broke up with my ex (when it's an old news already lol). but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn so not beta-read yet. song: back to december + all too well

“oh, there she is!”

oh for the love of god, you know you were late, okay? when you hadn’t stopped running back and forth for two consecutive days straight to save everyone and their mother’s lives, it was pretty understandable to take the chance of hibernating the first thing you had a day off, right?

“after an eon of disappearing,” the groom—your favourite cousin but god did he love basking attention—raised his glass towards you, and you could only smile his way through the gritted teeth. “I’m glad you decide to grace us with you presence, Your Majesty.”

but of course your family wouldn’t understand that, for they lived a totally different lifestyle to yours, despite begging you to enrol yourself to the most prestigious medical school. ironic now that they were the ones who always begged you to come home when you felt like you’ve moved to your home the moment you got accepted to the most reputable cardiology and cardiothoracic department in the country.

so you smiled wider—for the appearance, of course—but you said nothing back.

you were still regulating your breaths, palpable by your huffs and puffs as you took the empty seat—god if the bridezilla got mad because you took the wrong seat, you’d fight her because it was already a sacrifice on your end to drag your ass to this weekend full of wedding festivities—and before you could do anything else, a glass of water was shoved your way gently.

“you look like you need one.”

you were not surprised by the voice. he sounded like he looked like—rough, buff, strong, bulk. you were rather surprised at the small smile thrown your way when he handed you the crystal, filled with clear liquid.

oh, the choice of drink, too, by the way. in a weekend that would soon be filled with endless flow of champagne and other alcoholic and questionable options, he chose still water.

realising you were still eyeing the glass in his hand, his demeanour changed slightly. “not a fan of water?”

“I thought you’re kind of a beer guy.”

your response sent him into a laughing fit because honestly, rúben was expecting you to throw a flirty banter. with an evening gown that rocked a thigh slit as high as the bride’s ego, you looked more ready to have some fun from the get-go.

but the sound of that deep, masculine laugh did wonders to you. heat immediately run through your entire body, and you immediately knew you liked it more than you thought you should because you kept wanting more. more of his laugh, more of his voice, more of his smiles, more of his scent. more of him.

“it’s too early for that, no?”

with the way he lifted his eyebrows teasingly, you almost questioned your decision to become a doctor. you’d definitely been missing out this special specimen beside you, due to burying yourself in between your patients’ body—literally, in order to save their lives. you really need to go out more often.

or maybe, you need to step up the game while you can before hospital took your fair share of fun as soon as you landed back home. shivers ran down the underside of your arms at the last thought.

fuck it, then. if there was one thing hospital taught you the hard way, it was to might as well enjoy things while it lasted.

you grabbed the glass of water from his hands—his skin felt exactly like it seemed—before signalling for two flutes of champagne. the server went to grab your request as you shoo away your thirst with the water and then proceeded to down the champagne when the server was back in the vicinity, all while never straying your eyes from his. “in Italy, nothing’s too early, no?”

and that was another laugh you’d come to like. god, if coffee did no longer work on your bloodstream, someone should get her that as her daily fix of adrenaline dose before her night shift started.

the man in front of you took his portion of champagne and said his thanks, his eyes held yours like there was no tomorrow. despite the roughness in his facial features, stubbles and all, his smile was warm. and for you, the whole combination was what made your knees weak.

how could someone look so sexy and smug in all his friendliness?

“it’s rúben, by the way.”

with the small smirk slowly tugging the corner of his lips as he sipped the champagne, rúben should really consider himself lucky you didn’t jump on him and replaced the crystal flute under his lips instead.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

despite your initial dislike towards the bride—purely because you thought she had a severe princess disease—you tried so hard not to rain in her parade. no matter what, it was still her special day, probably one she’d been dreaming since she was a toddler.

also, have you mentioned that the groom was one of your favourite person on earth?

so you didn’t even dare to move anywhere outside the safe sanctuary of your table because you knew you’d be bombarded by the elders for how rarely you showed your face again in family functions like these, or for how you could not even show up with a boyfriend in tow. amongst the lineage, you were the only one left without a lover or some sort, but instead of draining your energy to explain how exhausting it was to live so that other people can live too, you stayed put.

that, and the fact that rúben provided 1001 reasons why you should stay behind with him. yes, sexiness aside, you found yourself able to converse so many things outside the medical jargons and it kind of made you miss it—the ordinary life everyone else was leading. you missed talking about the latest blockbuster movie, you even missed wearing something else than the hospital scrub and your favourite crocs for more than 10 hours straight.

you even missed the flirting phase, thanks to rúben’s impeccable ability to chime in some subtle but straightforward seduction. rúben himself already exuded some hotness, his laugh and words managed to shoot some warmth throughout your body, and the champagne tripled the heat all over you.

rúben was only downing another glass of negroni and you were only watching the liquid move from his mouth to his throat, but you needed to excuse yourself. your brain was no longer cooperating with every other organ intact to your body—you couldn’t shouldn’t think all of these forbidden thoughts inside of your mind because rúben had been nothing but a gentleman, yet you were the one who kept wanting to cross the line.

yes, rúben might’ve dropped some not-so discreet touches down your arms, on top of your knees, under your knees. yes, he twirled with your unkempt hair, tucked them behind your ears. but the groom used to do that all the time with you, just to tease you around, so what made this time different?

“I thought you hit the jackpot or something.”

and there was rúben again, his voice matched the concern written all over his face. even in times like this, when her inside was a mess all over, rúben managed to think of her well-being. damn it, he really made it so hard for you to contain the burning desire.

there, she said it. desire—a word so foreign in her dictionary recently, for she’d momentarily lost her want to study the human anatomy since the moment she walked into this party late.

“what, you’d run away or something if I did?”

despite you hyperventilating earlier, as you ran towards a balcony of this huge Italian castle looking for air, you were sure rúben couldn’t see a trace of it anymore. you were already sporting the provocating look you’d come to realise only come into the surface when stirred right—aka only rúben managed to do so by far.

and only rúben could take the outmost pride in enticing such vixen from her hiding place. you wouldn’t have braved the face to sport such dangerous dress if you didn’t have the energy in you, and he was more than glad you ended up taking your seat beside his, despite knowing you were supposed to be seated somewhere else later into the night, for he could satisfy himself with the sly and slightly naughty look you only threw his way whenever he wanted.

he’d be the worst liar on this planet if he said he wasn’t tempted to kill distance between your lips and his, so many times tonight. but his father taught him courtesy, and to do such radical act in a room full of other people’s guests would be an insolence and disrespect to the bride and groom.

but now that the matter of prying eyes was gone…

“I’d brush your teeth, of course,” a small gasp from you didn’t escape his ears. “what do you take me for?”

you smiled but you were shaking your head disapprovingly as you folded your arms in front of you. “when are you going to stop being a gentleman, rúben?”

“why should I?” the man stepped closer to you, and you wished he was still wearing the dark blue vest because you certainly couldn’t handle those specs ghosting behind the white shirt. “do you want me to be a bad guy?”

but you couldn’t also deny you’d want to see those chiselled chest. combined with that smirk and fascinating kind of mirth dancing in his eyes, would you be dead and sent to heaven? “can you?”

you were both now so close, rúben only needed to lift your chin towards his face to claim your lips. “oh, is that a challenge?”

he could easily did, by the way, with the way your lips were gaping as soon as he gripped his chin gently. but he decided to tease you more, as his nose reached down to touch yours while his body pushed you to the railing, giving him the excuse to catch your body in his arms.

your brain was now completely unwired, your limb was moving the way rúben orchestrated yourself like a maestro to his favourite instrument. all you remembered was to hold on to the back of rúben’s neck and the side of his strong arm, as he gathered you in his sturdy embrace, and chanting don’t fall, don’t fall to your now-airhead.

when he finally tipped your chin to his desired angle and your lips caressed one another, your breath turned shaky and it gave him an immense sense of pride. he’d been wanting to have this, dropping hints here and there so you’d let yourself free of expressing your inner self, because he knew you wanted the same thing too.

“what do you want?”

if anyone went wet at his usual voice, wait until you heard this version of rúben.

you could already feel yourself turning into a weak excuse of a puddle. your brain was melting, your inside was evaporating.

“tell me what do you want, baby, and I’ll give ‘em to you.”

it wasn’t that you were shy to voice them, but it was because you couldn’t find the words. funny how you could read endless words and medical jargons and yet, gone was everything inside and outside of yourself, including your so-called dignity you were often praised for when you were doing your rounds, when he dropped the word baby to call you with.

so you raised yourself on your tiptoes and pushed yourself towards him.

“uh, oh,” damn it, you forgot he was a footballer. he was paid to use his reflexes on weekly basis. avoiding your advances were nothing against his job. “words, baby.”

“you,” you managed to breathe out the simplest word you could find in the currently short-circuited brain of yours, but the very word seemed to please the man, whose smirk went wider oh-so sexily. “want you, rúben.”

if it wasn’t for the fireworks going off at the background five minutes later, rúben would’ve succeeded in making you fall apart in record time. but rúben didn’t know the word give up so while he kept to himself for the remaining of the night, he’d come looking after you as soon as the party ended and everyone went back to their respective suites.

you, too, certainly didn’t see this coming. but when rúben immediately kissed you senselessly as soon as you opened the door—well, as soon as he pushed you inside and opened your pathetic excuse of bathrobe, that is—you weren’t complaining. you even helped him shed the rest of your fabrics before unbuttoning all of his, all without separating yourself from him, because the last time you did, you never got the chance to chase your high.

“but, rúben, tomorrow’s the wedding!” you squealed as he lifted your body, your legs immediately locked your position against the large man, as he walked you both to your bed. “we’re so gonna be late, rúben.”

he was peppering your neck with kisses as he placed you down the mattress, rousing giggles from your end. “that will give them a story to tell, no?”

“you’re crazy—oh, oh,” the crispiness of your laughter was interrupted by the sensation of rúben’s tongue devilishly sucking your sensitive spot. “oh, fuck! fuck, rúben, fuck!”

if his tongue wasn’t twirling the bruising skin so well to soothe the pain, you’d smack the smile you felt against your skin. “well, they say that what happens in Italy, stays in Italy.”

“I think you’re mistaken for what happens in las vegas, stays in las vegas—oh, fuck, rúben…! don’t fucking stop.”

“is that so?” oh, how dare he stop?! you sat up when rúben halted the wet ministrations of his tongue against your breasts, about to protest the footballer, when he pinched your budding nipples. your head immediately fell back to the pillow, surrendering yourself instead. “can’t seem to remember. you keep distracting me, meu anjo.”

the sensation of his warm saliva against the coldness of his fingers’ pads were unlike no other that you mewled out the loudest moan you’d ever done. so disgusting you had to bring down his lips towards you to shut yourself up. “should we go to las vegas instead?”

“tonight?” rúben popped a now-hardened nipple of yours, and the sight was definitely something you could not erase from your memory. “I can call my plane.”

“don’t tempt me, rúben, because we know this weekend is going to be boring from the looks of it.”

“let’s bring las vegas to us, then.”

long story short, rúben brought you las vegas and its glory every chance he got during the weekend.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“must we go back to reality tomorrow?”

the giant central back chuckled at your submission. you were tucked under his arms, your fingers were drawing air on his chest, and somehow he knew you were pouting as you did so. it never ceased his wonder how you could be a temptress for a minute, then turned into a cutie-patootie—your words, not his—the next second.

it never ceased his wonder too as to how you’d always spurt out the same question all over again, every weekend you both got the chance to escape reality, despite knowing the definite answer of yes, we all have a life to lead tomorrow from him.

many of your colleagues had inquired about your relationship with the familiar face they’d seen over the weekend on their TV screens, but you didn’t know what to answer them. you were texting and flirting all the time but you were certainly wasn’t dating. you had sex, and you happened to repeat them whenever things got tough for either of you.

it was starting to become a vicious cycle, you and him. it was an impending doom, escaping the harsh reality only to seek for harsh and explosive sex instead of facing them head first.

he should’ve said no to every of your calls, but you crying over another life you failed to save wasn’t something in his card to ignore.

you should’ve said no to every of his calls, purely because you knew you were another rebound or another anger fuck from the losing game, but you didn’t have the energy in you to think of any reason to say no, not when you’ve racked your brain to save the failing life of your patients.

you both became a constant fixture, the only thing guaranteed good, when all else failed in your respective lives.

including the romantic aspect of your life.

but how could it not fail when rúben always picked up your calls when you had a bad day—that bad that you didn’t have the energy to have sex with him? he’d listened to you crying before stopping yourself, he’d listened to the silent you gave him because you were processing things. he’d listened to them all before offering to pick you up from work, no matter how stupid it looked like for him to slide in his vehicle at 5 in the morning when he had to be back at the training centre at 9 sharp.

when he couldn’t be around when you were having a mental breakdance, rúben would send you and your team a mini buffet for your lunch so you could share happiness the same way you shared him your devastation. so you could be back on your feet in no time because time is of essence for your job, your patients need you to be strong and healthy so they too could do and feel the same.

rúben—bless him—even spared his time to visit your patients when december came around the corner. he’d cheered them up, like the way he always did around you and for you, and even gave the kids and their caretakers gifts so they didn’t feel bored spending the festive holiday at the hospital. the next week, he brought over his entire football team just because one of the elder patients said he was a fan of his team.

he did all that, like a true gentleman you’d met the first time at your cousin’s Italian wedding, only to drop you the biggest nuclear bomb right on top of your head, right on christmas eve.

it was a dinner hosted by one of his teammates. he’d asked you to come because he knew you didn’t prepare for any last minute plan when your surgery schedule fell through—the patient died before you could save her—and thought the merry atmosphere would turn your sour mood to a better one.

you, from the beginning, didn’t want to go because you didn’t feel like intruding. and maybe, you shouldn’t have come.

the host, rúben’s captain, asked what kind of relationship you both were having, just as you were about to call for the men to join the women in the kitchen because the food were all ready to be served by now. but you never joined either side because of rúben’s answer.

“I’m getting married,” you remembered vividly. “she was nothing but a good fuck.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

but that was—what, five years ago?

you’d moved on with life, and that included moving far away from home to london. you obtained your specialist degree and was now under the tutelage of the best cardiovascular professor in town. you were often credited as prof. nagelsmann’s golden child because of how much the professor adored you, for your vast knowledge and eagerness to learn, as well as your hardworking attitude.

if people knew that you were studying till you broke your neck and had constant nosebleed till exhaustion took over your body at first only to put your mind somewhere else…

well, they didn’t need to know that. people only needed to know that you lived and breathed for the hospital now, because you’d now come to terms that life and death was two of the things that you were sure of to happen. nothing else were as definite as those two.

well, maybe also the jinx when you stashed away your hospital scrub for ordinary clothing as you clocked out of your shift.

as soon as your junior called your name, just five steps beyond the hospital territory, not even your car in sight yet, you knew you had to go back inside and save your kdrama marathon for another time. “code blue?”

your junior nodded and immediately jumped to describe the dire emergency. you were also handed the patient’s medical record. “male, 35 years old with CoA[1]. his stent’s infected so we have to do replacement but his CT scan shows hemothorax[2] and raptured aorta as well.”

your legs wanted to give away when your eyes spotted the name.

it’s ivan dias.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

rúben couldn’t believe his eyes.

there you were, explaining the whole procedure his brother would be going through. clad in your hospital scrub with no make-up, you were still as beautiful as he’d remembered. not even signs of time grazing your skin, as if the cold temperature of the operating theatre froze away the concept of time from your face.

your natural look was what initially drew him into you. in a room full of people caking their faces in the latest make-up trend, you definitely stood out in his eyes. you even outshone everyone else, including the bride, if he was being honest. and when he found out you were more than a pretty face, it didn’t take him another minute to settle his decision to make you stay behind in the table with him, so no one else could take you far away from him.

possessive, people would say to him. a trait he thought he’d hated in everyone else, but a trait that turned out to be something that showed up only whenever you were concerned.

but god, did rúben want you. so bad he felt like he could kill anyone else who casted you a seductive glance, despite you not acknowledging them.

and it made him hate himself because he was turning to be everyone else he’d come to hate. he didn’t want to be selfish, he didn’t want to push everyone else for what he solely wanted. he didn’t want you all for himself—he shouldn’t want you all for himself.

you both were only friends after all.

at least, that was rúben used to think of. because who the hell listened to another person crying for hours, if not for friends? who the hell picked up another person at 5 in the morning, if not for friends? who the hell reminded another person to eat so they could take care of their patients, if not for friends?

so he did everything he could, including dating around till he painted the town as red as the possessiveness he wished to hide, in hope he could diminish this niggling feeling that was bothering him day and night. he sought help and read endless books, just so he could validate the peculiar emotions he was feeling, that only vanished when you were around.

but nothing satisfied him. nothing was the answer to his long-standing question. even when he decided to jump the big gun and got married with someone else that didn’t even understand a simple arithmetic question, rúben still felt the gnawing hole inside of him, that was still thirsty of something he didn’t know of.

the hole grew into a big, black, gaping hole as his marriage went on. the hole even swallowed the existence and the idea of the two of them, the couple that could perfectly plaster the covers of bridal vogue, into a mere memory, burned to ashes and blown to the sky.

even then, too, rúben only wanted to see you. because being around you always brought strange waves of calmness to him.

so he did, only to find you go off the grid for good. he’d asked for you to everyone he knew and everyone he thought could possibly knew of your existence, to no avail. he’d thought of going to your home and asked to your parents but he decided to go against it because he respected you and your decision—he always does from the first moment he met you.

he remembered he didn’t even want to touch you until you succumbed yourself entirely to his palm, and he promised you he’d do that and he intended to keep his end of words, be it when you were around or not. he could only pray to God to meet you again in due time and course, when you were ready to see him again.

but now… god, did he want to scream out loud in happiness. you were still as gentle as ever, having handled fragile lives in your hands of both the parents and the guardians. your voice still reminded him of an umbrella under a blazing hot day, as you elaborated ivan’s condition to his parents. your hands still reminded him of a silk handkerchief tucked properly under one’s suit, as you touched his parents in reassurance.

only then did he realise that this sharp feeling inside of him, only you could provoke such intense emotions like a dagger stab to his heart, was longing.

he’d longed to have you in his arms again, despite having you there all his previous times with you. he’d longed to have you around him again, despite being around you. no distance was still a distance per his standard. and he realised he’d made the biggest mistake by not proclaiming you when he had the chance.

fuck possessiveness, he wanted you back.

after all these years, he still wanted you so bad.

“I knew you’d succeed,” rúben sat down with two cans of your choice of beer. “I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you. congratulations, by the way.”

“thank you,” while you flashed him a smile, you smiled rather awkwardly and scooted further away from him. like you were scared of him. like a child was scared of what a stranger had in their hands. “i—”

he didn’t like that you were getting further away from his reach. he couldn’t launch his old moves on you again if you did. “I hope you still like Budweiser.”

“I do, but I’m sorry, do I know you?”

but it seemed like he’d lost you now, the way he’d lost you years ago.

[1] coarctation of aorta; a birth defect in the aorta, where it is far narrower than normal, blocking the blood flow to the body. on severe cases, it is so narrow that it can back up the blood flow to the left ventricle, forcing the muscle there to work twice as hard in order to distribute blood the way it’s supposed to be.

[2] hemothorax; a presence of blood is detected between the chest wall and the lungs. commonly, may be caused by blunt trauma or by complication of a disease.

[digitaldiarystuff]

Bad Liar Pt.2

note: hello, it’s me (read it in adele voice) thank you so much for the likes it makes me want to write more enjoyy

————

summary: you are in a long time situationship with pedri and you’re falling more and more everyday hoping he feels the same

pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N

genre: pure angst

————

You spent the night bawling your eyes out and hugging your best friend for some support. After a couple of hours your tears started drying and you ran a bath to collect your thoughts. Okay, let’s look at the facts, you’ve been around Pedri for months and never noticed a hint of a girlfriend. Sure you weren’t spending every hour of every day but he stayed at your place once or twice a week and you never even saw him pick a phone call with a girl, sometimes you noticed him focused on his phone brows furrowed answering some texts and yeah you thought maybe he was messing around with someone else but never had the courage to ask about it and honestly after a while, you started trusting him. Trusting him seemed like the biggest mistake you’ve ever done. You believed what you had was special and he was in this with you. What a fool you were.

After the shower you just put on some pajamas and went to lie on your bed but before you could even sit down your mind went back to the morning, how he was sleeping like an angel next to you in this bed. Tears were rolling from your eyes uncontrollably. Realizing you couldn’t bear to sleep there you decided to let your friend crash in your room and took the couch instead. She tried arguing but didn’t press too much. She knew you needed space. After some more crying you let sleep take over.

The morning after wasn’t any better, you woke up crying and picked up your phone to see if there was any notifications from him, you hated how weak you were over someone not worthy but you couldn’t be strong right now. The only thing that could heal you was him and he broke your heart to a million pieces. Just thinking about last night made your stomach turn and you ran to the bathroom to vomit, it was your body’s reaction to everything that happened over the last 12 hours, how turned upside down your life was.

He hadn’t texted you, not even a sorry or can we talk. It was like he forgot about you all together. You had a million questions. How long was this going on, did you mean anything to him, who was she, why did she post him last night, did she know about you?

Your friend’s first suggestion was to make him pay, share all his business with the whole world and destroy his quiet shy and kind guy image but she knew you’d never do that, even he’d know you wouldn’t. Then she said the next best action would be to ask him straight up, you could also ask the girl but you don’t think you can handle that confrontation. You’re too angry to do that.

“What should I even say?” you ask her desperately.

“Just say meet me at mine. Don’t make it obvious that you know.”

“What if she’s with her.”

“Oh I hope she’s with her.”

“No, what if he doesn’t respond or says no?”

“Then we go over there.” she answered nonchalantly and shrugged “What? Don’t you think he deserves it?”

“I do, I really do but I’m not confident enough for any big fight.”

“You have to do this or your inner thoughts will eat you up.” you knew she was right.

to PG: can you come to my house?

from PG: i can’t busy day

to PG: okay then just come tonight

from PG: busy again, i’ll tell you when i’m free

You were getting more upset by the second, he didn’t even respect to enough to have a decent conversation with you. He must know how you felt because you never hid it and still, he just didn’t care.

to PG: it’s either you come to me right now or i’ll come to yours to meet your girlfriend

from PG: be there in 30

So that’s how he wanted to play.

Soon after the text you hugged your friend goodbye and started waiting for him and even though you weren’t proud about this, you changed and applied some light makeup. You didn’t want him to see how he broke you. As soon as you heard the knock, you looked at yourself once more and opened it allowing him to come in. You were staring into his soul with a newly found bravery while he averted his eyes. He couldn’t even look at you.

“I’m gonna get some water, do you want anything?” he asked and you were shocked at how he tried to make this normal.

“Sit down Pedro.” he was shocked as you used his name, you’ve never called him Pedro but calling him Pedri wasn’t an option to you anymore.

He said nothing and plopped down on the couch.

“Talk.” you ordered.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You could start by explaining.”

“Look I’m sorry if you feel some type of way about it but honestly I don’t get why you’re this upset.” you just stared at him in shock. How could he try to minimize the situation?

“What do you mean you don’t understand. You have a girlfriend and I don’t even know for how long, you played me and you’re here trying to say it’s nothing. How can you be so calm right now?” you ask agitated.

“Y/N we both said we didn’t want commitment.”

“Yeah because you already had one, to your girlfriend!” you yelled.

“Pedro how could you keep this from me? If I had known I would’ve never been with you, you don’t love me that’s fine I can live with that but how can you sit there and disrespect your relationship disrespect me? Do you really don’t care at all? After we spent months together, after you confessed to me that I’m the only one you could confide in and trust fully and I shouldn’t have trusted you for a second. Don’t you see how wrecked I am, do you not care about me one bit?” you ask fully crying now. His nonchalance is far worse than anything you could imagine.

“Look, we’ve been on again off again for a year now and I never mentioned it to you because when I was with you, it was off and I didn’t want to talk about it.” he finally showed some emotion and it was annoyance but it’s better than nothing.

“You’re still lying to me. If you were on and off why were you in bed with me twice a week? Does your relationship end that quickly? You cheated on her with me and used me. I never asked to be a part of this, I even wanted to end things early on when I realized I had feelings for you but you didn’t accept it. You came to my door, asking for my forgiveness Pedro. You begged me to take you back and I have, if you really only used me why try to win me back, was it all a game? Did you have fun did you laugh at me?”

“No it wasn’t a game I just, I couldn’t lose you, I knew then and there I just couldn’t but I didn’t know how to explain it and the longer I waited the harder it got. I even tried to get you to leave me but I couldn’t leave you. She was away all the time and you became my rock and I got used to waking up next to you and being with you. Last night she came all of a sudden saying she’s moving here permanently and I just” he sighed and you could see tears forming in his eyes “I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry for everything.”

You looked at him and even though you were so heartbroken, you realized maybe this was the last time you got to speak to him.

“Last night I asked to meet up because I was ready to tell you how I felt, I was going to confess my feelings and ask you a question I was dying to ask.”

He looked up at you fidgeting with your fingers, having difficulty breathing.

“What was it?”

“I was going to ask you if you love me.” you whispered.

His gaze turned to his hands on his knees.

“I would’ve said yes.” his voice was so low you almost didn’t hear him.

“But you can’t today, can you?” you found the courage to look up at him again, already knowing the answer. His mind was made up, if he was going to break up with her, he could’ve done it yesterday but he didn’t. They were a happy, throughly messed up couple and you were nothing more than a side chick.

“I’m sorry.” he said while getting up. “I just, I never wanted to hurt you.” he came in front of you and kneeled down to hold eye contact.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry” he repeated again and again crying and tried holding your hands. You couldn’t even look at him because you would’ve held his hands and calmed him down. This is the first time he’s full on crying next to you and all you wanted to do is console him, be his anchor but you can’t.

“Please look at me.”

“I can’t, after knowing everything I can’t look at you.” you said. You gazed at your hands covered by his and tried your best to not break.

“What I said to you was never a lie, I never lied about my feelings to you.” he confessed.

“So I should believe you love me when you couldn’t even tell me you had a relationship. It can’t be true if you’re here telling me you’re going back to her. If you loved me just one bit, you’ll let me go Pedro. I can’t be in a situation where I’ve been lied to for months and can’t even trust you.” you said still not looking up.

“I understand.” he said not moving. He didn’t stand up just stood by your knees and held your hand as both of you cried some more.

“I think you should go”

He started getting up but sat next to you on the couch

“Can I hug you goodbye?” he asked in a childlike manner. You said nothing so he decided it was okay. You actually didn’t say anything because you needed his affection one last time. This was wrong but you needed him as much as he needed you. Pedri embraced you in his arms and you put your arms around his neck. You sat there entangled in each other for a few minutes until your mind screamed let go so you did but as he was backing up he held your tear stained cheeks and pressed his lips against yours for the last time and you let him. You couldn’t fight it, you just enjoyed his lips on yours and after that he was gone.

Pedri will always be your the one that got away.

————

note: omg i’m gonna cry at how sad it happened but this relationship is nowhere near ending so if you’re interested please share with me your thoughts and opinions about the story luvs

ALSO, should this story have a good or a bad ending i’m so conflicted please helpp

[chaisshitposts]

HIIII ITS ME AGAIN, THE EYELASHES ANON AND Y'ALL BETTER SIT AND READ ALL I ALMOST CRIED WHILE READING THIS BOOK

Anyways, EXTREMELY LONG MOTIVATION/ADVICE (seriously read it all, it will help you so much):

wanted to share something i had to myself for a long time ago, maybe I'll actually make a post about it if I had the time, but in the meantime, I want to give some advice for those struggling with the void/manifesting/shifting/subliminals, basically anything. My mom read a book called "the power of the subconscious mind" by Dr. Joseph Murphy, then she advised me to read it, once I read it, I swear I had a full mental mind shift, like my whole concept changed so easily. And damn to be me if I decided to gatekeep it, y'all deserve it, so here are the most important things I've highlighted in the books, please take a minute and read them over and over, you'll understand so easily

First of all, let's get to the easy part, what is the subconscious and the conscious mind?

Subconscious mind: can be called the right mind, the mind which is basically on autopilot, the mind where everything is possible regardless of time, the mind where you imagine, the mind which acts upon a belief without any problem, the mind where it makes your preferred hand write without reminding yourself which hand is it

Conscious mind: can be called the left mind too, the mind which is logical, the mind who debates if to believe this or that, the mind where you see the 3d currently, the mind where you do the maths by a set of rules, the mind where it will pass the beliefs to the subconscious and let it to decide on it, the gatekeeper

Now that we know what it is, how about we see the important information I've gathered? (+IT HAS MURPHY'S ACTUAL METHOD):

1. "A personal healing will ever be the most convincing evidence of our subconscious power"

this is absolutely the most important thing, Murphy here said that if you have ANY problem that your body or mind or your 3d sees, it's YOU who fixes it, it's you who can change it, because the subconscious mind fashioned it, of course it can heal it's own handiwork

2. "A scientific prayer is the harmonious interaction of the conscious and subconscious levels of mind scientifically directed for a specific purpose"

THIS.RIGHT.HERE. this is literally what made me so open-minded, when you ask your subconscious for something, your conscious mind sometimes doesn't believe in it, why? Because it's logical, and some sort of a stubborn shit- nvm, anyways, your desire will show up once you align the conscious with the subconscious, in short, you'll make it into a belief that even your conscious agrees to, that's why most methods of manifest/shifting/etc etc... has this technique where you get drowsy, why is that? To make the conscious mind drowsy and accepting anything you say, going straight to the subconscious

3. "You need not acquire this power of the subconscious mind, you already posses it"

This is true, that's why some people get confused why as that some can get whatever they want so easily yet they won't, they will follow others and try to be in the state of overconsumption, YOU DON'T NEED ANYTHING ELSE, IT'S ALREADY YOURS???

4. "Whatever you impress on your subconscious mind is expressed on the screen of space as condition, experience and event"

This right here says the most things many is worried about, once you impress the subconscious with whatever you want to, it will materialize in the 3d! It's easy as that??? All you need to do is to impress the conscious and the subconscious

5. "Every thought is a cause, every condition is an effect"

There is no such thing as "impossible" to manifest, NOTHING, Murphy stated even if it's cancer, it can already be cured if you want to, every condition you are in, wether desperation, sadness, pain, etc... these are all an effect that can be easily shunned away if you want to, all you need to do is to fix the idea or thought in your mind, to show up as an desired effect

6. "Change your thoughts, and you change your destiny"

In short, live as though you already posses it, I mean come on, why would u be worried if you know that you ARE LITERALLY THE VOID??? exactly! You are the void and can access it whenever you want, you decide, not your body, you control your body, not you, you control your thoughts, not your mind, your mind will just act upon it like a faithful servant, or better if you say a friend

7. "Your conscious mind is the watchman at the gate, it's chief function is to protect your subconscious from false impressions, choose to believe something that you would want it to happen now, your greatest power is your capacity to choose, you have the power to choose"

This is so important, it talks about the beliefs that are already locked up in subconscious mind, like how to hold a spoon and how to breathe, but when a new idea or thought comes up, sometimes the conscious mind doesn't like new ideas, you have to impress it and act as though it's already a belief, like how you breathe, choose to change and choose to believe it, your subconscious cannot argue with you, only your conscious does, which you need to quite it down

8. "Your subconscious cannot take a joke, it brings everything you to pass in reality"

Saying you can't do something, or feeling desperate, is your call of conscious mind impressing the subconscious that you can't do it, that you can't have it, so change it, no I don't meant to think of toxic positivity, but when you get these ideas, gently drift them away, act as though it's already yours because it's already yours, and Definitely do not think that the suggestions and statements of others will have an impact on you, the only one in power here is you, it's your reality, ignore them

9. "Prior to sleep, turn over a specific request to your subconscious mind and prove it's miracle working power to yourself"

Murphy here stated that before sleeping, your conscious mind is too tired to disagree with anything, so play out a scene, or directly ask your subconscious, you can request it as though you're requesting a friend, and I can assure you this works like magic once you trust it, I used it to wake up at 4 AM sharp, I just turned over, and said to my mind "hey subconscious, would appreciate it if you wake me up sharp at that time, anyways, goodnight and thanks", kid you not I woke up, I tried that yesterday, you can ask your subconscious questions! It knows everything about you, because you already gave access to it

10. "All frustration is due to unfulfilled desires, if you dwell on obstacles, delays, difficulties, your subconscious mind will respond accordingly, in here you are blocking your own good"

This is so true, don't dwell on past mistakes that you haven't got the desires yet, ignore the 3d, let your mind screen your 3d, by mourning over the unfulfilled desires, you are just blocking yourself into getting the results, leave the past, you are so close, so so close

11. "To impress the conscious and letting the subconscious act upon it, imagine the happy ending or solution and feel the thrill of accomplishment, keeping your conscious busy with the thoughts of it's already there, and your subconscious will act in harmony, bringing it to reality"

This is easy, impress your conscious, in short, act it out and maybe live in the end, do whatever you want to, hell, you can even not do anything but just have the belief that you already have it, done

12. "Avoid all effort or mental coercion in requesting your subconscious, get in a sleepy drowsy state, and lull yourself to sleep feeling and knowing you already have it"

This is so close to the command your subconscious mind method, I've also read it that "a mental picture is worth a thousand words", that's why by picturing it and feeling it, it will impress the subconscious greatly

13. "Remember, that a thankful heart is always close to the riches of the universe"

Be happy right now, in your life, just act If you want to, because what you want is already here! Be extremely happy and excited, live your life, be silly, be grateful, soon enough, you'll get what you want, let that soul rest a bit, take a break if you need it, nothing will fly, you can do this

14. "Know that you can remake yourself by giving a new blueprint to your subconscious mind"

THIS, THIS MADE ME CRY- you can change, everyone can, it all needs an idea, an idea to give the subconscious, wanna change and believe that you're a master at manifestation? Done, ask your subconscious, tell it you wanna change, and seal it that you have already changed, it's similar to the psych-k

15. "Easy does it, take it easy, too much effort shows anxiety which blocks your path, easy does it"

Be calm, know that you'll get it one day, know that you ARE going to get it soon, you're a master, you're amazing, you're a wonderful human, you can change, you're amazing, if you ever felt anxious, take a step back and be calm, do something if you want to keep your mind off, because no matter what emotions you have, let's say you cried, this doesn't mean it has negative effect and erased your efforts, it's a normal feeling, stop being too worried, regardless of everything, you already have it, I'm so proud of you💗

16. "You do not have to strive or slave hard, lay back, and let your mind do the work"

Easy as it says, lay back, get lazy if you want to, just request your brain and you'll get it eventually, be happy about life rn! You're so lucky to have made it so far, you'll make it soon, just lay back

17. "Feeling envious or jealous of others are stumbling blocks to the flow of manifestation, feel happy for them, you'll get it too, why stress?"

This is so true, I've heard many feeling annoyed that some can shift or manifest or enter the void at first try while others can't, I used to think like this too, but this is the worst feeling to have, it will make you feel shitty, you deserve everything, and you'll soon get it, be happy for others and the happiness will find it's way back to you

18. "One reason many people simply make end meets is that they condemn the thing, what you condemn takes wings and flies away"

Why would you hate yourself for not being able to enter? You're just paining your brain! You deserve peace, you can do it, take a break, leave it off, be confident, don't hate anything, hate caused a lot of problem in this world, yet it hasn't solved any

19. "Stop trying to get something for nothing, you give mental attention to your goals, and it responds back in harmony"

Some want to do nothing and sit back while complain, this can't be, YOU DON'T NEED TO WORK, Like the only one small tiny thing you need to do at least is to believe, THATS IT, YOU CAN IGNORE ANYTHING ELSE IF YOU WANT TO, just have the belief

20. "Find out what you love to do (techniques to manifest, wake up in void, shift- anything else), then do it, if you don't know your true expression, ask your mind for guidance, and help will come"

There are thousands and thousands of methods, all you need to do is to pick what you feel comfortable with, stick to it and persist with it, or you can make your own! Manifestation is fun, do whatever you want to, your mind will understand whatever you say

21. "Thoughs+feelings=belief"

Can't say anything else, this is the key, fuse feeling of the scenario with the thought, and persist with it, there you have it, it will become a belief in mind ready to materialize

22. "You delay your answer by thinking it will take a long time, or that it's a big huge problem, your subconscious doesn't know the problem, only the solution"

There you go, please please please do not think your manifestation will take long, or it will actually take long, remember, your subconscious cannot take a joke once you impress it

23. "When you open your eyes in the morning, give your brain a task for the day"

Means to give your brain the manifestation you want today, let's say I woke up and chose to ask my subconscious to make me happy today, or intelligent in my exam today, it's all up to you, a new day is like a new task

24. "You form habit patterns in your subconscious mind by repeating a thought and act over and over again until it establishes tracks in the subconscious mind and becomes automatic"

In short, persist with the thought, and it will become a habit, if you think that drinking water will make you have longer hair, and continue to believe it for a while, you'll actually get longer hair by just drinking, it's a habit that is established in your brain, it will act upon it, the time to act is in your hands

25. "To form a new habit, you must be convinced that it is desirable, when your desire to give up some bad habit and start a new habit Is greater than continuing the old habit, you are already 51 percent changed"

Have the desire to be strong, how to make it stronger? Imagine the thrill if you had it right now! I have a trick, to feel like you have it now, I used to imagine a genie telling me my wish, like I genuinely though I have it now🧍

26. "When fear knocks at the door of your mind, let faith and belief in all good things open the door"

Let your good thoughts fight the fear, turn the feat over, do not shake it away, acknowledge it, them throw it, laugh at your fears, it's the best medicine, learn to hold them up to the light

There you go! 26 important messages I found in the book, these are so important I actually cried with it, the book has many many more different methods but I can't cram it here, promise I'll make a post about it if I have the time, in short, I love you all and I know that you'll do it, your future self with all your desires is already nodding at you, grinning and telling you it's already done, see it, feel it, know it, acknowledge it, you'll make it, NOW LETS GO AND MAKE IT, YOU'RE SO AMAZING I'M SO PROUD OF YALL, LOVE YALL 💗

P.s// can I be the 🍓 anon? LOVE U TOO AGAIN 💗

i dunno who else needs to read this but I definitely needed to read it, ty 🍓 anon, such wise words will surely help us all in the long end. ty for sharin' this knowledge with not only me but everyone who else who takes the time to read what ya spent time and effort in writin' out. i really appreciate it, and shhhhhiiiit i might have to give that book a read, it's been floatin' in front of my face for a couple weeks but youve just given me confirmation. guess I needed this wake up call fr 🚶

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 8 (Bradley 'Rooster Bradshaw fic)

I would like to start off by apologizing for being MIA for god knows how long. Life has been chaotic, to say the least, lots of big events in my family, in my job, and in my relationship. But I'm hoping things have started to calm down and allow for more time for writing and such.

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.3k+

You were scrambling trying to find an outfit appropriate for a job interview. It had been nearly 5 years since your last job interview. You switched to travel nursing where you were matched to hospitals by an agency, so the last time you interviewed for a nursing job was your first job out of school. It felt weird wearing business casual to the hospital, it was nerve wracking. You decided since it was around lunch time, you’d try FaceTiming Bradley to get his opinion on your outfit choice of a black pencil skirt and a floral blouse. Though part of you knew his opinion would be positive and this call was more of an ego boost than anything.

His face appeared on the screen upon answering and he propped his phone up on a table so you could see most of his torso. Damn, you could tell he wore that flight suit well.

“What a pleasant surprise!” He beamed, “what’s up, Sweetheart?”

“I need you to look at my outfit for my interview… I haven’t worn business casual since my first job interview out of nursing school like 5-6 years ago.” You explained. 

“I’m sure you look beautiful, let me see.” He said.

You propped your phone up on your kitchen counter and took a step back so he could see your entire outfit.

“I was right!” He exclaimed, “You look absolutely beautiful!”

“Really? Ya sure?” You asked doing a little spin.

He nodded, “Oh yes, you look gorgeous yet professional. I’d definitely hire you.”

“Can you give me a little Outfit of the Day too?” You proposed, “I’ve never seen you in your work clothes.”

“Like an influencer?” He asked.

You giggled, “Exactly like an influencer.”

He stood up from his seat and backed up so that his full body was in the frame, “So… my flight suit is from the Navy, my boots are also from the Navy, my sunglasses are from Ray Ban, and my ability to put together a sentence is from the disgusting amount of caffeine I’ve been drinking since I woke up.”

“Mine too!” You grabbed your Celsius and showed it to him. “Twins!”

“What do ya say we go to the Hard Deck tonight to celebrate your interview?” Bradley proposed.

“But what if it goes terribly?” You asked.

He smiled, “I highly doubt that it will. But if it does, we can celebrate that you’re still a badass fucking nurse.”

You nodded, “Okay, that sounds good.”

“You’re gonna be great,” he said, “any hospital, in any unit, would be so goddamn lucky to have you.”

You sighed, “Thanks Bradley, that means a lot. I gotta head out in a few but I’ll talk to you later.”

Bradley winked, “Go get ‘em, Tiger.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Did you invite Sexy Nurse to the Hard Deck tonight?” Phoenix greeted Rooster outside of the locker room getting straight to the point.

“She has a name,” he corrected her, “but yes, I did.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “She’s always gonna be Sexy Nurse to me, she and all her little friends. Ya know how I feel about girls in healthcare.”

“I never understood your fixation until I met Y/N.” Bradley chuckled, “But now, I absolutely get it.”

“Something about a woman in scrubs.” Natasha shook her head.

He shrugged, “I dunno, Y/N had a job interview this afternoon and she looks like a dream in business casual too… and shorts and a t-shirt. The girl could make a paper bag look sexy.” 

“Ooooh Rooster, you’re into this girl.” She did a little happy dance.

He blushed a little bit, “Yeah… I am. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this crazy about someone.”

His phone dinged in his pocket, he pulled it out to see a text from Y/N.

Y/N: It went really really well. I’m not sure how many other people they’re interviewing but I vibed really well with the manager. Seems like they have a great unit too. It’ll be a little bit of a drop in pay since I won’t be on a travel contract, but I think I could make it work.

Bradley: I knew you’d be great! That unit would be lucky as fuck to have you.

Y/N: Thanks Bradley, what time should I meet you at the Hard Deck?

Bradley: I will be picking you up at 7:30. 

Y/N: Bradley…

Bradley: Y/N.

Y/N: You don’t have to do that.

Bradley: I know, but I want to.

Y/N: Well alright. I’ll see you at 7:30, Bradshaw :) 

When he pulled up to her apartment in his Bronco, Y/N was already standing out front. She was wearing a short casual cotton sundress with white low top Chuck Taylors. She was an absolute vision. 

“‘Evening, Bradshaw!” She greeted him loudly over the noise of the engine.

“‘Evening Y/L/N!” Bradley jumped out from the driver's side and walked around to open the passenger door, “You look… beautiful, really beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed and she kissed him on the cheek before climbing into the passenger’s seat.

Bradley looked over at her, “You missed, Sweetheart.”

She giggled, “I did, didn’t I? Climb in and let me right my wrong.”

He did as he was told and Y/N rewarded him with a sweet kiss. 

“Hang on,” She gently wiped his lips with her thumb, “I left some lipstick on ya.”

Rooster chuckled, “Leave it on, wipe it off. I don’t care as long as I get to keep tasting your lips all night.”

She bit her lip, “That can absolutely be arranged.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Bradley held out his hand with a sweet smile as the two of you walked from the parking lot towards the entrance of The Hard Deck.

You sheepishly took it, did he really want to make an entrance like this? You’d only been talking for a few weeks.

“Why do you look so surprised?” He asked.

You try to find the right words, “I’ve just… never had anyone be so… forward about liking me.”

“Well get used to it, Sweetheart.” He gave your hand a small squeeze, “‘Cause I’m gonna be all up in your pretty face.”

He only let go of your hand to open the door of the bar, placing a hand on the small of your back as he guided you in. A beautiful dark haired woman waved to Bradley from behind the bar and gave him a wink.

“Do you know her?” You asked over the music and loud chatter of the bar.

Bradley waved back at her, “That’s Penny, she’s Mav’s girlfriend and she owns this place.”

Before you could reply, you heard familiar voices calling to you.

“Nurse Y/N!” Jake’s southern drawl greeted you excitedly, “Can’t believe you’re still hanging out with Rooster, we thought you’d be bored of him by now.”

“Don’t listen to Bagman, Y/N!” Natasha greeted you with a friendly hug, “We are all thrilled that you’re still around. Bradley’s flying the best he has in a while since you showed up.”

You smirked and looked over at the beautiful mustached man next to you, “Is that so?” 

His cheeks flushed, “Possibly, but even bigger news, Y/N crushed her interview on her dream unit today!”

“That calls for a drink!” Mickey/Fanboy said, “What can I get you guys?”

You thought for a minute, “Tequila soda with lots of lime wedges. Let me know how much I owe you.”

“Oh no,” he chuckled, “All your drinks are on Rooster tonight. I’ll square it away with him.”

Bradley nodded, “Damn right, grab me whatever you’re having, Fanboy.”

“Hey Roo,” Jake passed him a pool cue, “I know you’re flying has been top notch. But I bet ya still suck at pool.”

He barked out a laugh, “You’re so fucking on, Hangman.”

Jake looked around and smirked, “Let’s make things even more interesting… winner gets to dance with the pretty nurse in the sundress.”

Bradley looks over at you, “You okay with that, Sweetheart?”

You gave him a nod, “Beat his ass, Bradshaw.”

You sipped on your second tequila soda of the night, watching the sickeningly close pool game with baited breath. Bradley was stripes and Jake was solids, they each had two balls left on the table. Bradley lined up for a shot and hit the cue ball towards one of his last stripes. Unfortunately, the cue ball bounced off the wall after sinking his stripe in the pocket, hitting the 8 ball into another pocket.

The whole dagger squad let out a roar of disappointment, except for Jake of course.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Bradley cried out.

“You wanna run away Y/N?” Phoenix nudged you, “We can escape out the back door.”

You shook your head, “Eh, it’s okay. A bet’s a bet. I made my bed and I gotta lie in it.”

“That’s very noble of you, Y/N.” Bob patted you on the back.

Bradley came up to you and planted a big kiss on your lips, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay, you just gotta promise to cut in once the song is over.”

He grinned, “Oh I will be counting down until the very last note.”

“What shall I put on for our dance, m’lady?” Jake asked you with a cheeky wink.

Bradley rolled his eyes, “She actually loves country, Hangman. Maybe playing music she likes will keep her from getting sick all over you.”

You giggled as Jake walked towards the old school jukebox, “You all are children.”

A few moments later, the intro to Neon Moon by Brooks & Dunn started playing.

“Damn it.” You cursed to yourself.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Bradley asked.

You couldn’t help but giggle, “I fucking love this song.”

“It’s a classic.” Jake held out his hand, “May I have this dance?”

You blew a kiss to Bradley before taking Jake’s hand, “Remember our deal, Bradshaw!”

You and Jake two stepped along to the country classic, cracked jokes, and discussed how between the two of you, Bradley would learn to love country music.

“Before Rooster comes over and tears you away, I just want to thank you for taking such good care of him, as his nurse and now as his… lady friend.” Jake said quietly into your ear while also maintaining a respectful distance, “I know I give him a lot of shit and it may not seem like it but… I really care for the guy.”

You looked surprised at his gratefulness, “Of course, Jake. Even when I was just his nurse, it was clear to me that Bradley is a really special person. I feel really lucky to be getting to know him as Bradley the man, not the patient.”

“I have never seen him so starry eyed for someone, Y/N.” Jake added, “You make him really happy.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “He makes me really happy, too.”

As the last few notes finished out the song, Bradley was quickly behind Jake, “Time to go, Seresin. You got your dance.”

“Yes sir,” Jake gave you a cheeky wink as if to say, Don’t you dare tell him all the nice things I just said about him,  “She’s all yours, Roo.”

Bradley switched places with his friend, placing one hand on your waist and holding your hand with the other. You placed your free hand on his shoulder and he pulled you close. You couldn’t hear what song was playing, all you could focus on was his heartbeat.

“That was the worst four minutes of my life.” He grumbled into your ears.

You shrugged, “Not the worst dance I’ve ever had but I’m definitely happier to be back with you.”

He kissed the crown of your head, “Glad to hear it.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Y/N was a few tequila sodas deep, she wasn’t really drunk at all… just a little tipsy and very giggly. This was a side of her that Bradley hadn’t seen a whole lot of and he was loving it. She was also a little bit more handsy and playful, too. It was as if the liquid courage was allowing her to let her guard down.

“You are so damn pretty.” He mumbled into her neck and kissed it.

She let out a quiet little moan and then froze, realizing what she had just done.

Rooster raised a playful yet questioning eyebrow at her, “Did I find your spot?”

Her cheeks flushed bright red, “Maybe… maybe one of them.”

He took her by the waist and guided her to turn around and face him, “There are more?”

“There are many…” she bit her lip and looked up at him with big doe eyes, making his dick twitch. 

He pulled her in closer, “Tell me all about these spots, Sweetheart.”

She shook her head and whispered in his ear, “But that’ll take away all the fun… you gotta find them yourself, Bradshaw”

And with that, Rooster absolutely melted.

Tag list:

@sarah-bear706318

@dizzybee03

@that-gay-person-27

@alwayshave-faith

@caitsymichelle13

@thespillingvoid

@shanimallina87

[litnerdwrites]

It's interesting how Nesta had to apologise for something she wasn't even in the wrong of doing while Rhys, who overreacted by threatening to kill her (for a mistake he made) and chasing her out of the city, did not have to. Especially, after it was canonically established by Feyre herself that he did not have the right to do that..

And for someone who claims to write about badass female mcs who crush patriarchy and choose the course of their own lives, shouldn't an apology scene for something in which a female's right to information on her own body was undermined be a fundamental part of the book?

I mean, she could add a bonus chapter about the characters in question fucking to make babies but had to keep the apology off-page? Weird.

The only somewhat sufferable part of the book was the scenes with the Valkyries and the smut (if you ignore the poor timing).

I don't know if it's my eldest daughter syndrome acting up but I feel strongly about this.

I agree completely. I won't deny that Nesta has some things to apologies for, but so does Rhysand, and Feyre and Mor. I'd even argue that the things the IC put her through negate the need for her to apologies, or at least makes it a little less urgent/important than the apologies she's owed. This is mostly due to the fact that Nesta's so-called crimes amount to a bad attitude (most on page examples of which are pretty understandable to me), and issues she had with Feyre in childhood. Meanwhile, the IC's actions are immature and ignorant at best, and extremely abusive at worst.

Honestly, I don't think any of them, much less Rhysand, see what they did as a mistake. If any of them did, they wouldn't have made her walk through those woods. Feyre would've demanded Nesta be brought back otherwise, but she didn't.

As for Rhysand, honestly the part where he hugged Nesta gave me ick. Especially when Nesta said he'd been acting like a brother the whole time because he hadn't. He abused her. He broke her down. He only showed any semblance of decency (even then it wasn't much) when she did something to benefit him.

Offering pity jobs for somebody else's sake without taking into account Nesta's strengths or passions into account isn't what a brother, or anybody who cares for her, would do. Staring at her like a circus attraction when she enters the room isn't something a brother would do. Forcing her to social events just to ignore her isn't something a brother would do. Financially abusing her, refusing to give her a salary for her work during the war, along with her inheritance, is not something a brother would do. Not caring for her wellbeing beyond how her sister feel's is not something a brother could do. I could go on.

I think, at the end of the day, this amounts to a simple fact. SJM clearly doesn't see anything wrong with the things she writes and narrative she creates. No matter how you argue that ACOSF is a healing story, not a redemption story, it doesn't matter. Through analysing the sext, the author clearly shows how she feels about Nesta. Looking at what she says about the book, the author clearly has little understanding of mental health, and hasn't done enough research on it to be able to write a healing arc that isn't straight up abuse/torture (seriously, the bar is in the crust of the earth).

ACOSF could've been the best book in the series. All of the material, the concepts, the potential was there. Nesta's story was set up in ACOFS, and perhaps I wouldn't have minded the actions of the IC as much (from a literary perspective anyway) if they had been acknowledged as wrong and the IC apologised. I don't think anyone would've minded the locked in the HOW plot either, if, at some point, the characters acknowledge how abusive it was. If the narrative itself acknowledged how messed up it was, and did something about it.

If Cassian apologised for abandoning her after the war, Cassian especially. If Feyre apologised for not trying to reach out in a way that Nesta was comfortable with. If Elain apologised for not being there for Nesta the way Nesta was for her. If Mor apologised for, intentionally or not, isolating Nesta from the rest of the court. If Amren apologised for her comments. If Rhys apologised for sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

Rhys apologising for the hike, or threatening to kill her would mean nothing because both he and the narrative don't see anything wrong with his treatment of her. If he did, then the forced training/library/stuck in the how part would've ended half way through the book.

The part that infuriates me the most, however, is that they don't see their wrong doings at all. They still think they're doing the right thing and that they know everything. It's messed up.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Yo! Special delivery! *kicks down door*

So it’s safe to assume that TFP Soundwave has lost Buzzsaw, Ratbat, Frenzy, and Rumble and only had Laserbeak left. One could only imagine how much pain and grief that brings Soundwave but his Carrier codes must be going insane at the sight of humans given that cassettes and humans are ruffle the same height and are chaotic in nature.

I also imagine that his codes go crazy at the sight of children, so~ add Jack, Raf, and Miko to a still grieving Soundwave, who’s protocols are SCREAMING at him that those three cassette sparklings need him.

I LOVE this idea. Thank you for throwing this request at me! Now I have an excuse to write about my fav spy master.

Organic Cassette Sparklings

To Soundwave, his cassettes were his everything. His mind and body belonged to the Decepticons and Megatron, but his spark was only for his little ones. As such the loss of his cassettes one by one in short succession very nearly drove him mad from grief. He was blessed to still have Laserbeak, but she was also suffering from the loss of her brothers.

Soundwave thought time would heal the wounds in his spark, but it didn't. It anything, the pain from the loss of so many of his cassettes grew worse as if time was an infection slowly festering within his shattered self. By the time he arrived on earth, he was so lost that he could hardly think beyond his orders, his sense of being so broken that he couldn't bring himself to care. The only reason he still marched onward was because of Laserbeak, his last remaining cassette. But sometimes even she wasn't enough, sometimes he just wanted everything to end- to return to silence.

On those days he left the nemesis behind and went to the ground to try and shake his thoughts. It didn't work all that often, but it was better than the sickening monotony of his room on the nemesis and the constant problems that always popped up. More often than not he just wandered around the area nearest to the nemesis's coordinates. But after being deployed on a mission on the ground for the first time in centuries, Soundwave found himself stunned as his instincts screamed at him.

Right in front of him were three small organics, human children he knew to be under the care of the Autobots. But as he looked upon their terrified faces and their small shaking forms, all he could see were three cassette sparklings that needed a carrier to protect and nurture them. He would have snatched them up right then and there if it weren't for orders coming straight from Megatron demanding he return. Even then he still hesitated, taking a photo of the children and burning every detail of their forms into his processors for later analysis. And when all was said and done and Soundwave was back on the nemesis, he actually felt alive for once. Laserbeak felt similarly after looking at the images taken of the children. Soundwave wanted to care for cassettes, his carrier instincts demanded it, and Laserbeak wanted siblings. They agreed and soon after threw aside anything not related to finding a way to get the human children in their possession, or at least find a way to gain interaction with them.

It was a difficult thing to figure out, mainly because organics require different care than cassettes, but Soundwave spent weeks dutifully reading parenting books, biology texts, phycology papers, education documents, and medical websites until he felt sure of himself. Then he slowly began accumulating things small organic cassettes would need. Laserbeak did most of the collecting (not that she minded), often bringing soft fabrics, the odd piece of furniture, and enough canned food to last a nuclear winter. Then once they got everything in order, Soundwave made his move, heading to every battle secretly to watch and see if the human children were present or not. And this he did for months until at last the opportunity came, one he did not miss.

Taking care to ensure none saw him, Soundwave snatched up the human children and hurriedly put them into his carrying chamber which he had fixed up beforehand to not be harmful to the children. Then before anyone could react, (Autobot or Decepticon) Soundwave took to the air and returned to the nemesis as if he had never left. Not even Megatron suspected a thing as Soundwave stalked back to his chambers, locked the door, let Laserbeak get settled, and finally pulled the children out.

They were decidedly unhappy if their screams were anything to go by. But Soundwave expected such a response, Rumble and Frenzy behaved similarly when he first took them in as well. Soundwave was accustomed to having to take things slow and let his little cassettes warm up to him. Besides, he had spent plenty of time learning what humans needed. He was feeling fairly confident in his ability to have the children relax around him eventually. And for six whole months, Soundwave had the children in his care, unknown to anyone and kept safely hidden away where only he and laserbeak knew.

Rafael was the first to warm up to Soundwave, caving in around two weeks into being under Soundwave's supervision. Soundwave paid special attention to him due to his need for glasses and his young age. The spy master was very dutiful in collecting food that met all of the nutritional requirements of human adolescents, and he took extra care to ensure Rafael was always able to get to his glasses. He would regularly pat Rafael on the head, ruffling his hair with gentleness reserved for his cassettes. He would teach Rafael bits and pieces of Cybertronian while also ensuring that the boy was taught things the human documents said were normal for his age group. This task was not at all hard considering the relative simplicity of human education, so Soundwave may or may not have thrown a few more advanced subjects into the boy's education as well.

Rafael for his part adapted well to being in Soundwave's care. He learned quickly that no harm would come to him and came to even enjoy being with Soundwave even if he longed to return to the ground and the Autobots. He was fond of Soundwave and took pride in doing things Cybertronian young performed, which always earned him a loving nuzzle from his originally unwanted Cybertronian caretaker. Laserbeak for her part loved to sit with Rafael during his studies and play games with him, mainly some form of ball or a version of chess not too dissimilar from the human version. All in all, Rafael was content, if a little cooped up.

Miko was the second child to crack as she came to find herself enjoying listening to music with Soundwave and being caught before she could escape. While at first it was a desperate bid for freedom, it turned into a game and even a learning experience as Soundwave taught her how to better hide and use her size to her advantage in combat. By the time month three rolled around, she was invested in her studies with Soundwave and regularly sat on his shoulder to listen to music with him, often singing along happily and play fighting with Laserbeak. She hated being cooped up, but she liked being able to watch what happened on the nemesis, even going so far as to suggest funny pranks to Soundwave (who on occasion actually implemented the pranks because it was what his little cassette wanted).

Soundwave always took great care to foster Miko's musical capabilities, teaching her songs from Cybertron and showing her how to play sized down versions of their instruments. And while he did school her in other things, music was her passion and he did not take that from her, instead encouraging it and helping her to channel it into something practical. She was a small organic cassette, she needed a defense, so Soundwave gave her a set of blasters which would hook up to her instrument. Of course he kept it offline or at a low setting, but Miko loved the gift nonetheless. She especially came to love using it in mock battles with Laserbeak who would play dead to give Miko the gratification of victory.

Jack was the last to crack, taking nearly four months before he fully accepted Soundwave's affection. Soundwave took extra care of Jack's emotional state, mainly because it reminded him greatly of Frenzy, his emotionally scarred and battered cassette. He went to great lengths to make Jack comfortable and to help the boy work through his panic attacks and other mental issues. And surprisingly, Soundwave's attempts began to work, even helping Jack gain confidence as he tutored him in all sorts of subjects. Before long Jack was flourishing academically and showing an interest in combat after seeing Miko do so well. Soundwave offered his little organic cassette a set of energon blades in response, ones which he quickly began showing him how to use. And after only a month or so, Jack was proficient in their usage without having anything aside from the school work Soundwave assigned him to do.

Jack came to love simply sitting with Soundwave quietly, watching the security feed with him and sometimes discussing old stories and his problems. Soundwave of course always listened, never speaking up and instead letting Jack vent all his frustrations patiently. In his mind, Jack really was just like Frenzy, a tough exterior with a soft interior personality wise. And just like with Frenzy, Soundwave was patient and offered all the companionship and comfort in the world when Jack felt comfortable enough to speak with him. Laserbeak also came to love having Jack lay against her side as they watched a film or something of the sort, even purring to him when he had nightmares when he fell asleep by accident.

To Soundwave everything was going perfectly. He finally had cassettes to look after and they were opening up to him far faster than anticipated. He was ecstatic. But as will all good things, it came to an end too quickly for his liking when an attack on the nemesis forced Soundwave to put the children in his carrying chamber and hurry out of his quarters. By some means, the Autobots had confirmed that the human children were on the nemesis and they were angry. Soundwave ran for his life as he sprinted down the halls, heading for the upper decks to escape capture and to get his human cassettes to safety. But that was not to be. Before long the Autobots found him, having locked onto the human children's life signal stemming from him.

He tried to fight, but with the children in his carrying chamber, he eventually accepted capture and was dragged back to the Autobot base. When there he was strapped down and interrogated immediately, the Autobots not being nearly as kind as they were known for.

Optimus: Where are the children?

Arcee: What did you do to them!?

Ratchet: If they are dead I can promise you will re-join the Allspark before Primus can hear your prayers.

Soundwave: ...

Soundwave: Cassettes: Secured. Safe.

Sensing his defeat and only wanting his little cassettes to be safe, Soundwave opening his carrying chamber and allowed the children to clamber out in wonder. There were tears, hugs, and tender embraces, but Soundwave watched it all in apathy. He was going to lose his cassettes again... and he wasn't sure he could handle it.

At least that was what he thought until the children explained and fought in Soundwave's defense. The spymaster could only watch in awe of his cassettes as they spoke for him, pointing out that he merely wanted to care for them and that he never so much as touched a hair on their heads with harmful intent. In response to this, Optimus made an offer.

Optimus: Soundwave... you wish to care for the children more than you wish to serve Megatron, yes?

Soundwave: ...

Optimus: If that is true, why not join us? You can care for them without fear here.

Soundwave: ...

Soundwave: Offer: Will be considered.

[oceans-goddess]

I don’t know if you would be open to this idea but a tmr newt imagine where the reader hurts her knee and now has a limp like newt and she is frustrated with it and it gets him to open up and it’s all fluffy??? I have just had knee surgery so I am being very self indulgent… again if you don’t want to no worries at all!!!

Author's note: Omg of course!!! Agh, I'm so excited, this is my first time responding to a request, so I hope you enjoy! Also, I wrote this really fckin fast, so I'm sorry if it's shit.

Guys, send in more requests! This was so fun to write!!!

Pairing: TMR Newt x reader

Warnings: mentions of suicide and death, leg injury

“This bloody knee!” you hissed, tossing your gardening tool to the side and pulling at your hair in frustration.

“Did you just say bloody? I must really be rubbing off on you” Newt said from above you. You gasped in surprise.

“Newt! What are you– aren’t you supposed to be talking with Alby right now?” You asked.

“Finished early. Not much to debrief today. Aren’t you supposed to be heading to lunch?”

Your boyfriend sat down beside you and picked up the tool you’d been using, toying with it as he waited for you to respond.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it today. I’m running way, way behind. This piece of klunk knee brace won’t let me bend down to work, and Clint and Jeff refuse to let me take it off. I have to either stand straight or sit down, neither of which are fast enough to finish all this in time.”

You finished speaking with a huff, and Newt smiled beside you.

“Hey, that’s just what a brace is meant to do. You shouldn’t bend it until you’re all healed up. It’s only been a week, love.”

A week, you thought, recalling the accident that had occurred just a few days before:

“It should be all set. Just take it easy for a few weeks, y/n,” Jeff explained, helping you to stand and placing a rudimentary wooden crutch under one arm.

“And no more messing around climbing trees,” Clint warned, opening the door that led out of the med-jacks’ building where Newt waited. You nodded, but the comment stung your pride.

Earlier that morning, you had been sitting up in a tall oak tree in the deadheads. The location was morbid, you knew, but it was also quiet. A place to breathe. To think. If you sat up there long enough, it sometimes felt like the trees went on forever– like there were no walls, no maze, standing just yards away, separating you from the world beyond.

You’d been up there a while, and you knew your break would soon be over. The gardens needed tending, after all. That, and Newt would begin to worry and come looking. You knew he could handle himself, but the last thing you wanted was to see him struggle through the underbrush of the deadheads with his bad knee because of you.

You swung yourself off the branch you’d been sitting on and began making your way down the tree. As you placed your foot onto a small notch in the tree bark, the branch you held onto with your right hand snapped. You gasped, clawing at what was left of the branch, but your foot slipped, and suddenly you were falling to the side.

You let out a scream and braced yourself to hit the forest floor. Your right knee was the first part of your body to land, and it connected with a rock or a tree root– you weren’t sure. Your right shoulder slammed to the ground, though thankfully, it seemed that your knee had borne most of the brunt of the fall. Chest heaving, you slowly sat up and you tried lifting yourself off the ground. Pain surged through your leg, and a cry of agony escaped your lips. You sat back against the trunk of the tree for a moment, then tried to stand again. It was in vain– your leg couldn’t support you.

Just when you’d made your mind up to crawl back to the field where someone would see you and bring you to a med-jack, you heard a crunch of leaves nearby.

“Y/n?” Newt called frantically. When he saw you, the expression on his face made you want to disappear. His eyes were wide, and he cringed as he saw the way you held your leg. Others followed behind him. How he’d gotten here on his leg first, you didn’t know. Must’ve been the little piece of runner still left in him. He dropped down onto his knees beside you, calling out, “Bring the med-jacks, now!”

And then you wound up here, with a makeshift brace around your leg and a boyfriend that wouldn’t stop looking at you with that nauseatingly concerned expression on his face. It was all you could do not to scream in anger and humiliation.

You shook yourself out of the memory and turned away from Newt.

“I know the brace is helping. It’s just– it gets in the way. I’m so much slower than I was, so much less graceful, efficient, I feel… I feel like I just don’t operate like I used to. Like I’m supposed to. It’s so embarrassing. Like, everyone else is pulling their weight but me.”

It was quiet for a moment. Newt only watched as you clenched your fists together, but when he noticed that you were beginning to hold back tears, he reached over and rubbed your back.

“Hey, it’s alright. I understand. Sometimes I feel the same way about my own knee.”

At that, your stomach dropped, and you clapped a hand over your mouth. All the complaining you’d just done must’ve sounded so horrible– so inconsiderate– to him. You’d only been struggling for a week; his knee would trouble him for the rest of his life. And even then, he was trying to make you feel better, like always. That was what made you care so much about him. He always did what he could to make things easier for you, to comfort you, to make you happy.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathed.

“It’s okay, honestly. It’s alright.” Newt scooted closer to you and draped his arm over your shoulder. You leaned into him and took in his warmth, his earthy smell. 

“Can I tell you something kind of sad?” he asked, his voice only a whisper. You didn’t know where this was going, but you nodded silently. Newt took a deep breath beside you.

“Aah, okay… you know I used to be a runner and everything, right? Before my knee?”

You nodded again, looking up at him. His brown eyes gazed down into yours with a mixture of affection and anxiety, but he continued on.

“Well, I don’t really ever talk about how I hurt my knee. It’s…” he swallowed. “it’s hard to talk about it now.” He shifted uncomfortably beside you, but you waited patiently.

“I… I really hated it here for a long time. It’s alright now, I’ve sort of made my peace with living here, in a way, but I just couldn’t take being trapped in this box. It drove me mad. One day, while I was on a run, I climbed up some of the vines and ended up on top of one of the maze walls.”

You could hear his heart beating faster now as you leaned against his chest. The next words out of his mouth were barely a whisper.

“I knew this wasn’t what I wanted. I couldn’t stand it. And I… I jumped.”

You gasped and sat up, looking into his face for more information. He only looked back at you with the most heartbreaking expression you’d ever seen on him.

“I wanted to be done. With it all. But, much to my resentment at the time, Alby found me. Dragged me back into the glade just before the doors closed. They fixed me up. I spent about a month under constant supervision from Clint and Jeff, and then I wasn’t allowed to be alone for another few weeks. Everyone thought I’d try again. I… I wanted to.

“It was even worse with my bum leg. Everything was harder, more irritating. I felt more useless every day.”

Hot tears rolled down your face. Newt brought up one hand and wiped them away with his thumb before kissing your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, Newt,” you whispered, and he pulled you in for a tight embrace.

“It’s alright, love,” he whispered back. “Things have gotten better since then. I found I was pretty good at gardening, and now, here I am. Made some new friends as well. And, of course, I met you.”

Newt pulled away and brought his hand back up to your face, resting his palm against your cheek.

“And I promise you I’m here to stay.”

You let out a quiet sob and pulled him in for a kiss. Your lips met passionately, and you ran your fingers through his dirty blond hair. He was as gentle, as loving, as always. When you pulled away, he was smiling.

“Another thing that’s changed though,” he began, “is that I’m seriously afraid of heights now. That fear extends to you. So please, love, please, I’m begging you. No more climbing trees. I almost had a heart attack when I heard you scream”

You let out a surprised laugh before responding.

“Okay, honey. Don’t worry. No more climbing trees. I promise.”

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Now– let’s go get some lunch. We’ll worry about the garden later.”

[gejo333]

A Misunderstanding V

Father Miguel O’Hara x Mother Spider Reader

-> Pt. I -> Epilogue

Summary: Miguel finds out you were shot from a robbery gone wrong as he races to you in hope that you are still alive.

So if you read my last post. I said I would only post one more chapter for this series. I lied😅. I am going to write one last chapter for “A Misunderstanding.”

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

Enjoy!💕

Wc: 3.4k

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Miguel’s heart raced against his chest. His stomach felt like it was in his throat. He felt sick. You were shot. His mind raced to the worst thoughts, seeing your lifeless body when he arrived at the scene.

When the anchor said you got shot, he rushed out the door. Luckily he could be in his suit within seconds as he sprinted out of the bedroom window and swinged as fast as he could to the mall downtown.

His heart raced a mile a minute as it rang in his ears. He just got you back. He just got his family back. He couldn’t lose it after having it only for a few days. You couldn’t leave Mateo a motherless child. You couldn’t leave him.

Miguel smashed through a window from a department store as he made his way toward the scene. On his way, he saw people hiding, some injured from gunshot wounds. But he needed to get to you first. He needed to see if you were still alive.

As he turned the corner, he saw you holding your shoulder with your hand. Relief washed over him. Seeing that you were alive and standing. But seeing blood dripping from your shoulder down your arm made him livid.

You didn’t notice Miguel as you were focused on the gunman informing of you. You had shot a web towards his gun, sticking it to the wall behind him, but not before you were shot in the shoulder. It was painful, but relief washed over you when the bullet didn’t hit anywhere vital. The thoughts of Mateo swirled in your mind. What were you thinking of coming here? You just thought it was a simple robbery at the mall bank. But it wasn’t, and you were very close to having Mateo grow up without you.

Your mind returned to focus when you saw Miguel tackle the gunman before the guy could pull a second gun. The gun went off, which made you panic.

“Miguel!” You screamed as dread washed over you. You saw Miguel move the second gun from the gunman as he tied the man up. Miguel stood up as he breathed out. He was surprised by you as you tackled him to the ground in a hug.

"Y/n." Miguel sat up as he wrapped you in a tight embrace, making you wince. He quickly moved you away from his hold as he looked at your injured shoulder. The wound wasn’t in a fatal area. But the amount of blood seeping from you staining your suit, made him worry. He picked you up bridal style and carried you away.

“What about the gunman?”

“I broke the guns, and he’s tied up. The police and medics are on their way there. My focus is on you.” Once you both left the mall, Miguel opened a portal to HQ.

Arriving at HQ, Miguel went straight to the medical center, where a spider nurse took you both to a bed. It had only been a few minutes, and Miguel was growing agitated. With your good arm, you placed your hand in his and squeezed it to help calm him down.

“I’m alright, Miguel. Once the bullets are out, my healing will kick in. I’ll be completely fine in a few hours.”

“Where is the damn doctor,” Miguel growled out loud.

“Miguel.” You slightly tugged at his hand to make him look at you. His stern gaze softened when his gaze fell upon you. A sigh escaped his lips as he cupped your cheek. He rubbed his thumb against your cheek.

“I was scared, cariño. I thought the worst happened to you.” You leaned into his touch as you placed your hand over his.

“I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t realize the robbery would escalate like that.”

“You should have woken me up. I would have gone with you.”

“I know. But I thought I could handle it.”

“Y/n, you are a very talented Spiderwoman. The best one out of all the universes. I knew you could easily beat me in a fight if you wanted to. But it has been a while since you’ve been Spiderwoman. And Im saying this in the best way possible, mi amor, but you haven’t fought a villain in a long time. If you want to be Spiderwoman again, which I know you do, you must train again at HQ. But it’s not just us anymore. We have Mateo.”

“You’re right. It has been a long time. I shouldn’t have risked my safety like that. I should have asked you to come. For Mateo’s sake. If the villain comes again, I’ll ensure you are with me.” Your words brought relief to Miguel’s face. He was about to lean down to kiss your lips lovingly. However, the curtain pulled back with the spider doctor right behind.

“I see you- oh, sir! I’m sorry if I was interrupting anything.” Said the doctor, becoming slightly nervous when he noticed his boss.

“It’s fine. You should have been here sooner.” Miguel scolded the doctor. You internally chuckle at Miguel’s protectiveness over you.

“Sorry, sir. Now here is a bit of numbing so you don’t feel any pain when I take the bullet out.” The doctor picked up the needle and pressed it against your shoulder. You hissed from the pain of the needle directly against your wound. Miguel held your hand and gave you a love squeeze as he kissed your head to help ease the pain. You smiled up at him and sighed in relief when the pain subsided, the drug already taking effect.

The doctor took the large tweezers and grabbed the bullet from your shoulder. It felt weird with the tweezers and the bullet moving inside you, but luckily, you didn’t feel any pain.

“There we go. All done. You should be fully healed by morning. Try to sleep on your back tonight.” The doctor patted you before throwing the syringe and bloody clothes in the hazardous bin.

“Thank you.” You say as you stand up from the medical bed. As you walk out of the medical center, you bump into Jess.

“Omg! Y/n, are you ok?” Asked Jess as she came to your side.

“A gunshot wound from a shooting. It’s nothing.” You reassure her.

“It’s not nothing.” Huffed Miguel as he gave you a soft glare.

“It was a robbery gone wrong at a mall. And I went on my own.” You nervously smile when you see Jess’ disapproval reaction.

“Y/n... that wasn’t safe. You should have had Miguel go with you.”

“Yeah...Miguel already lectured me about it at the medical center.” You lightly chuckle before going on your toes to kiss Miguel on the cheek to make him less grumpy at you, which happily worked when you saw his lips twitch into a small smile. You felt your phone buzz. When you checked to see who it was, all the blood on your face drained.

Shit. It was your sister.

“Shoot. My sister has been calling and texting me. She must have seen the news. We have to go, Miguel. Mateo must be freaking out.” Your worried look reflected off on Miguel as you both said goodbye to Jess before opening a portal back to your apartment.

You both got out of your suits and back into casual clothing before entering your apartment to see your sister sitting on the couch, staring at the tv playing the news. When she noticed you walk in, Nora shot off the sofa before bear-hugging you. You hissed in pain from her hug, which she moved back, sorry etched on her face.

“Thank god you are safe! They said you got shot! But they wouldn’t say anything else! And you weren’t picking up any of my calls or texts. I thought you were dead!”

“I’m sorry for worrying you. Is Mateo alright? Did he hear anything?”

“No, he doesn’t know anything. I told him you were running errands and would return soon.” Nora’s response brought relief to your mind. You were relieved that Mateo wasn’t traumatized. You rush to his room, where you see him play with his toy cars.

“Momma!” Mateo dropped his toys and ran into your arms as you picked him up, holding him tight against you.

“Hi, sweetie.” You kissed his head and cheek as you hugged your son tighter. Tears brimmed your eyes as the fear of leaving your child alone is the worse thing you could imagine.

“Momma, why are you crying?” Mateo looked at you with his big brown puppy eyes and pout on his face, now sad that his mom was tearing up. You quickly wiped your tears and smiled to show him you were alright.

“Oh, I’m alright. I just missed you so much.”

“I missed you too!” Mateo wrapped his arms around your neck in a hug. With Mateo in your arms, you walked back into the living room, where you saw Miguel leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee. When he saw you, he set it down and walked over to his family.

“Where did Nora go?”

“Some work emergency pulled her away. She said she would talk to you tomorrow.” He wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed your cheek.

“Eww.” Mateo giggled as he scrunched up his nose. Both you and Miguel smiled at your son’s childish attitude.

“Aww, papito, I’m only telling Mamma I love her.” Said Miguel as he gently ruffled his son’s hair. You smiled and kissed Miguel’s cheek.

“Eww! Mamma!” Mateo giggled.

“Like your papa said, I’m just showing that I love him. Like I love you.” You then place a kiss on Mateo’s cheek, which makes him giggle. Miguel then kissed Mateo’s cheek and began to tickle him, which filled the room with Mateo’s laughter.

Your heart melted at the sight. You wanted to remember this moment forever, and you wanted to have more like this one.

Mateo began to wiggle out of your arms, so you decided to set him down. Mateo then ran off into his room to go play with his toys. You turned back to Miguel, and your heart swooned at the sight. You had never seen him this happy, making you smile just as brightly.

You took a deep breath. The butterflies in your stomach reappeared, suddenly nervous around Miguel. Knowing you so well, Miguel picked up on it as he wrapped his arms around you and cupped your cheek.

“Qué es mi amor?” Miguel’s gaze scanned your face, trying to figure out what you wanted to tell him.

“Do you want to move in? I know it’s sudden since it’s only been a week since coming back into each other’s lives, but it’s been a great week. Mateo is so happy to have his father in his life, and I’m happy you are here too. But if it’s too sudden, you don’t-” Miguel interrupted your tangent with a kiss. You felt him smile against your lips which made you pull away, curious as to what he thought about your suggestion.

“Of course, I want to live with you and Mateo. You both are my world, and I can’t imagine not living in it.” His words made you so happy as your cheeks turned pink, and you smiled at him.

“Guess what, Mateo?” You said out loud, which perked your five your old’s interest as he ran out of his room.

“Yeah?”

“Papa’s moving in.”

“Yay!” Mateo yelled joyfully as he ran into his father’s arms. Miguel easily scooped him up and hugged him.

...

It had been a month and a half since you asked Miguel to move in, and it’s been amazing. You had gotten into a nice routine with your family.

In the mornings, you’d wake up to Miguel making breakfast, or he would wake you up at the ungodly morning hours to help train you back to being Spiderwoman. Though you never were a morning person who could wake up at 4:30 like your boyfriend, you did enjoy the showers you would take together after working out. Some mornings when Miguel was tired from monitoring the multiverse and being Spiderman, you could convince him that you would make breakfast, even though you would still hear him grumble across the kitchen counter, saying he should be making it since you do so much already.

After getting ready, the three of you would walk Mateo to school. After saying your goodbyes, you and Miguel would go to Spider HQ. You decided to quick your journalist job since it paid less and you didn’t enjoy it anymore. So you went full-time at Spider HQ. It was a way better job. The pay was better, better benefits; you got to be Spiderwoman, and best of all, you got to work beside Miguel all day.

It was nice being back at HQ, especially now that there are many more spiders. Six years ago, there weren’t that many, so your social circle was small, only including Miguel, Jess, and Peter B. But now your social circle was massive! It’s dwindle a bit, only because many spiders were interested at first in finding out that Miguel had a girlfriend since they only believed their boss was very aloof and angry. However, since you’ve been around, some spiders have told you that he has been a lot nicer to be around.

You did become close friends with a few rebellious spiders, which Miguel was initially annoyed by. Even in a short time, you’ve become a big sister/mother to Gwen, Hobie, and Pavitr. Even Miguel has acted like a father figure with the young spiders. Still, he would never admit it to anyone except you in private.

Your days at HQ usually consisted of training with Miguel, going on small missions, or helping with monitoring the multiverse. You would force Miguel to take a break and eat lunch with you on breaks. If he couldn’t remove himself from the screen, you would grab food with the young spiders and bring him food after your break.

When it was time to pick up Mateo, you and Miguel went to pick him up. At first, it was only you since Miguel had to reorganize his schedule so that Jess could have more leadership at HQ so that he could be with his family. When your little family was back together, you would spend time together by going to the park and then going back home for dinner.

On the weekends, you would have small family trips after Mateo’s soccer practice. You would either go to the beach or adventure somewhere in the city. And every other weekend, Mateo would go to your sisters so you and Miguel could go on a date and spend the night together without worrying about being a parent for the night.

You loved your little routine, not wanting a single thing to change.

“Go, Mateo!” You cheer on your son, kicking the ball down the field. In the past month since he started playing, he has improved. Well, to you, he did. You were his mother, after all.

“Here, Cariño.” Miguel passed you a bottle of water that he went to go buy from the nearest corner store.

“Thank you, Miggy.” You kissed his cheek as thanks before taking a sip of your water.

“How are you feeling now?” His eyebrows scrunched slightly as his lips put in a slight frown, concerned about you.

“The water helps, but I still feel pretty under the weather. I’m sure it’s nothing. I bet I’ll be fine in the morning.” You took his hand and gave him a love squeeze to ease his worries.

“I’m sure you will be.” He kissed your forehead as he smiled down at you before the two of you continued to watch your son kick around the ball with his teammates. After watching five-year-olds try to play soccer for another 30 minutes, the kids return to their parents.

“Did you see me kick the ball into goal?” Mateo yelled as he ran towards you and Miguel.

"Fuiste increíble, Papito!" Miguel picked up Mateo. Miguel has been speaking more Spanish to Mateo for the past few weeks to teach him, which you loved. Miguel had taught you Spanish when you first started dating. However, you weren’t really fluent. So you were happy that your son was learning to speak it.

Your smile quickly disappeared when you felt a sudden surge of nausea consume you. You rushed to the park restroom and into a stall as you hurled your guts into the toilet. The door to the bathroom slammed open as you heard someone come into your stall. You felt your hair gently pulled behind you to not get vomit on it as you felt Miguel kneel next to you.

“Mi amor, are you alright? Are you feeling ok?” Miguel rubbed your back to make you feel better as you hurled into the toilet. You leaned away from the toilet when you felt you wouldn’t puke again as you placed your hand on your chest to control your breathing. Miguel quickly grabbed a few tissues as he gently wiped your face. Your heart melted at his gesture. By how vast the multiverse was, how did you find such an amazing man?

“I’m fine. It must be a stomach bug or something. Thank you.” You blow him an air kiss since you just hurled your guts out.

“Of course.” Miguel rubbed your back as you stood up and went to tidy yourself up by the sink.

“Wait! Where’s Mateo?” Panic rose in your face as you turned to Miguel.

“I asked Georgia to keep an eye on him.” Relief washed over you when Miguel reassured you that Mateo was fine. However, your stomach sat unsettled as the thought of your son made another thought pop into your head.

You both walked out of the bathroom towards the soccer field with the group of parents and kids.

“Hey, Georgia! Thank you so much for watching him.” You thanked her as Mateo ran into your arms.

“Of course! Hope everything ok?” Georgia asked, slightly concerned. Over the past month, Mateo and Simon have become good friends, and so have you and Georgia. At first, you bonded over your annoyance with Emily and her posse, but you both learned you have some things in common.

“Yeah! I’m good. Just something I ate, probably.”

“Well, feel better! See you at drop off on Monday!” Said Georgia before you, and Miguel said your goodbyes before you went on your way back home.

Before entering the apartment, you gently grabbed Miguel’s bicep to stop him. He turned to you, brows furrowed, curious for the sudden stop.

“I need to make a quick stop at the corner store.” The three of you walked into the store as Miguel followed you to your destination with Mateo in his arms. You stopped right in front of the pregnancy tests. You looked up at Miguel, who looked back at you with eyes slightly wide.

“Do you think?” He asked.

“Maybe. I am two days late on my period. And there might have been a chance I missed a pill.” You bit your lip as you picked up your desired brand and went to pay for it.

After returning to the apartment, you quickly walk to the bathroom. Doing the deed, you know pace back and forth in your bedroom while waiting for the test results. The alarm on your phone startled you as you pressed the button on your phone for it to stop. You look at Miguel as he stands beside you, also nervous.

Going over to your nightstand, you pick up the test as the both of you sit on the bed.

Pregnant

You were pregnant again. You look over to Miguel, who looks back at you. Your heart banged against your chest, eager to know his answer. A wide toothy grin appeared on his face, showing his dimples as his reddish brown hues were filled with so much love and joy.

A smile spread across your face as tears brimmed in your eyes. Miguel cupped your cheek and placed a loving kiss on your lips. You kissed him again before separating as Miguel said, “Guess we need to find a bigger apartment.”

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Hope you enjoyed it!💕

Tag List

@theprettyarachnid

@crowleysthings

@gryffinclawstuff

@toaffes

@miggyyyyohara

[painful-pooch]

An Impromptu Farewell

I do apologize to those that have been waiting since the beginning to read this. I have been through one of the worst times of my life since moving to this new place due to the military. That being said, I am grateful if there are still those interested in reading this as this is where the story will pick up. I love you guys.

Part 1 (Captain Down)

Bru Bru tag list: @cpt-winters, @redd956, @straight-to-the-pain, @technom0ose, @actress4him, @whumperofworlds, @i-eat-worlds, @inscrutable-shadow, @gala1981, @thethistlegirl, @ocean-blue-whump, @noirineverysense, @steelandblood, @crash-bump-bring-the-whump, @kervl-klear

CWs: military whump, war, gunshot wounds, blood, injury, gunfire, death of random soldiers, farewells, mentions of alcoholism, and violence.... Sorry for writing so much ahhhh

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruno’s aim is true and his intent clear as he holds the pistol tightly in his hand, watching Khrystyna’s body tense up. She’s not moving an inch, and he can’t blink away the tears in his eyes or she might disarm him before he can react. “Get. Back. That’s an order. Don’t make me hurt you.” His side is blazing with harrowing pain, spreading like a wildfire through his body, the bullet having wrecked him while staying lodged in him. He can feel the life seeping out of his side, but he won’t let Khrystyna see his suffering. She needs to make it back home. That’s his only concern now.

Khrystyna scoffs and takes a careful step towards him, her voice not betraying her probable fear of his threat, “Sir, you have a gunshot wound. Multiple now. I made an oath when I became a pararescueman. I am never leaving you behind. Now give-” 

He fires a warning shot beside her, wincing from the recoil of the .45 caliber gun. Even with all of his armor on, with his bravado, and with his stoic nature, he feels so vulnerable; so naked. It terrifies him, and with each second that passes by is just another second for the enemy to close in on their location. He can’t live with himself if he gets the youngest member of the team captured, especially the best medic he’s ever met. 

If she is caught alongside him, she would be forced to heal him and keep him around for longer… all while getting destroyed herself. Who would even heal her or watch after her if he were to pass or not be present? He shakes away the thought in his mind and with a shaky voice, re-enunciates, “Khrys… I am begging you as someone that loves you and as your commander, let me go.”

If Khrystyna had thought he was bluffing, she now knows he isn’t playing around. She is staring at the wound in his side for a few seconds, locking eyes with him once more. “B-Bruno, I can’t let you do this. We can make it back to the evac point! We can make it out of this!”

“You aren’t stupid!” Bruno roars, forcing himself to stand up, leaning back against the wall with the gun still aimed. “You know better than this. You know that this is only going to end badly if they get both of us. I can’t make it there, even with help. What I can do is provide you and the others coverage. Give you all the chance to make it out.”

“Why? Why are you doing this? This isn’t fair! Who’s even looking out for you?! Why are you pushing me away? I won’t fail you!” 

Failure. Is that what she is afraid of? He almost feels the corner of his lip curl up. She doesn’t hate him. Not yet.

Khrystyna is in tears now, her voice so full of anguish and disappointment. “What are you so afraid of?”

Afraid? Bruno isn’t afraid. 

He’s petrified. 

He’s about to lose everything he ever loved and cared about.

“Say something, Bruno!” 

“I can’t lose you all! I can’t let them ruin you and use you all to get to me. This is the only way to make sure no secrets make it out. I can’t trust myself, Khrys. I can’t trust myself to stay quiet if it means I have to watch you all slowly die around me. I am not strong enough. I will never be strong enough! I am dying, kid.” His hand holding the pistol is visibly shaking at this point, and the pain stemming from the wound only worsens with time.

“I am fucking dying, and I need you to get the fuck away and get to the rendezvous point,” he pours, all of his emotion going into those statements without any thought, the poor girl before him listening to him reveal all those unspeakable fears. He feels so powerless even as he holds the weapon in his hand; even as a leader, he failed his medic. 

Khrys retreats only a step or so, her hands up while silent tears stream down her face. “What can I do to help you then? What can I do for my Captain one last time? I won’t leave unless you tell me or let me help fix you up. I can’t let you die…” The woman has always been such an amazing prodigy and human. Even with all of her credentials, awards, stats, and her skill, she is still a young soul. She has a life ahead of her. She’s barely past the age to drink legally and yet she’s done so much more than most have ever accomplished in their whole lives. Her potential would be ruined in captivity. No one would recognize her for who she is.

He is so proud of who Senior Airman Khrystyna Paszek is, that he is willing to die for her time and time again so she can continue on with her journey. 

Bruno grins down at her, trying to cheer her up even just an ounce, ensuring that no one has yet closed in on them. “Your final order? Leave me a gunshot wound trauma kit, an adrenaline pen, and take my dog tag with you. Can you do that for me? Your old man here is gonna fuck shit up just enough to give you all a window of escape. Sounds good?”

She forces a smile and laugh, kneeling on the ground to rummage through her heavy pack, giving him a few supplies from the hemostatic dressing, bandages, and a syringe with the beautifully blue liquid to some sterile gauze with pain medication. She holds her hand out to him, unable to look at him. “Dog tag?”

Bruno inhales sharply, grabbing her hand, pulling her up, and hugging her tightly regardless of the searing pain in his side, leg, and heart. He presses a small kiss to her head, slipping her pistol back into her holster. “I am gonna miss you. Promise to keep looking for me after?” He looks down at her, yanking the chain from around his neck off with a snap, handing her the dog tags he has been carrying on him since… forever ago. His own tears fall and he clenches his jaw so tightly, waiting for her answer. 

“Sir…” She trails off, staring at the tag in her hand for so long. She closes her fist around the metal piece, her eyes screwed tightly. “I want to keep fighting… But I won’t let you down. I won’t stop looking for you. You better not die on us, old man. Do you have a message for her?”

Her. 

Miranda.

Yeah. He has a message for her. “Tell her I’ll be back by chow.”

Khrys probably wants to hit him, but she nods her head, picking up her pack again, clipping the straps together and ensuring it’s all in order. “She’s going to murder you. Here… your mic is broken. Give us one last message before it’s over?” She passes him an extra earpiece of hers, one that most likely works. “Don’t die. That’s an order to you, Captain Stenberg.”

He sighs and puts the earpiece in, hearing the sounds of all the other members scrambling to get to the evac point. “You need to start heading back. Now. I won’t die. That’s a promise, and I never break my promises. Head out and I will provide a distraction.” 

Khrys wants to say something else to him, but he can tell she thinks against it, turning to the side and walking to the end of the alley. She looks behind her one last time before she books it in the direction of safety. With that, Bruno is left alone in the alley with his gear, wounds, med kit, and his broken pride. 

He gets to work, vest off and his shirt and fatigues up, checking the wound that is looking a little worse for wear. He has to pack it with the hemostatic gauze that will force the bleeding to slow down and trick the body into clotting up the opening. 

A few deep breaths and with his head tilted back to look at the hazy sky, he uses his thumbs to shove the gauze deep into his wound. He tries to not scream, his jaw tight and his veins probably popping out from the strain. He is half gasping and crying with each packing movement of his blood covered thumbs and hands. It’s so uncomfortable and a pain he truly can’t describe, but once he’s done, he’s pouring down sweat from the exertion, placing a large bandage over the wound to at least keep the gauze in there. 

Once that is over, he picks up the syringe, staring at it. He was trained to use the damned thing if he was ever in a situation where it’s hard to stay up, alive, or both. The best part about the drug in the syringe is that it gives him enough of a boost to still cause just enough damage to provide the opening needed. He keeps the syringe in the pen pocket of his right arm, using the cute little velcro strap to keep it in place. 

With his injury, he can’t carry the full weight of his gear and needs to be as lightweight as possible for his plan to come to fruition. He unclips the straps over his chest and thighs, letting the heavy pack fall to the ground. The change was instantaneous, and the painful pressure against his wounds were lessened, the man sighing in heavenly relief. “Oh thank fuck.”

Before he starts to limp his way over to where Khrys headed, he makes a few alterations to his pack, grinning like a mad little scientist when he picks up the detonator and holds it in his hand. He promised his family of operatives and soldiers he’d get them home, and he is going to give everyone a show while he does so. The world spins and darkens up around him if he moves too crazily, but he sips at his camelback water bag still hooked up to him, the cool and refreshing water giving him something to look forward to. The earpiece is finally not getting ignored by him, and the voices that pour in get processed. 

“I need a count off from everyone now.” Valdemar grunts out, the sound of the chopper’s rotors and blades whirring in the background. “Go.”

Shifting and the sound of wind respond first. “Kieran here, just staying away from the action in the middle. Probably a mike or two (minute/s) away.”

“Away from the action?” Miranda laughs, her huffing well suppressed. She was, afterall, a former Marine grunt that could haul ass if need be. “I am basically there. Just making sure I am clear before going uphill. I would love to not be a sitting duck. Where’s Khrystyna and Bruno?”

Lukas’ scoff is the first to reply to Miranda’s inquiry. “Glad to know me, Sebastian, and Oscar aren’t cared about, lady. I get it. Tomcat, your happy loving pilot is going around in circles, going crazy and getting dizzy, thank you very much.”

“Lukas, I am going to quite literally smack you. You are in a fucking plane, away from all the bullshit down here. Sebastian is flying the helicopter, and Oscar is in a fucking air conditioned room back home!” Valdemar shouts into the comms. 

Oscar hums softly, a quiet response, “To be fair, last time I tried to be a part of a mission, I got stabbed…” There’s a subtle slurp from a drink, almost like he has a fountain drink at his desk. “Air conditioned room is nice.”

A moment of silence went through and Sebastian finally chimes in: “Yikes. Awkward, Valdemar the Viking. Seems like your Oonga Boonga Army brain is getting the best of y- hey, no no no get away! OW YOU ASSHOLE! THOSE ARE MY SKITTLES!”  

Bruno can’t help but laugh, even in his predicament, but when Khrys talks, the laughter goes away. “I’m almost there. I had to uh… help someone hurt.”

“Who was hurt?” Miranda asks, another moment of silence coming in when she then answers her own question. “Bruno…? You haven’t answered us yet. Where are you?”

He’s in Hell. 

He is in literal Hell, but he must tread on with honor. Someone will keep them safe. He swore them all to safety long ago. That’s the least he can do for them as their leader. Just once more, he can speak to them with dignity. He doesn’t know when the next time will be, but he prays- hope with all his might- that it will come soon. Maybe he will die, but he suspects his crew wouldn’t want that sort of ending for him. 

They need Bruno to not shatter in front of them. He can do that later. He stands up straighter against the agonizing cruelty of the cuts, bruises, wounds, aches, and shattered pride. Even if no one can see him, they can hear his confidence, and he will give them a leader, even if he is at the end of his rope. 

“I’m giving you all an opening. Keep heading to the second emergency rendezvous point as before. Engage the hostels when needed, but don’t push towards them. Keep retreating. I am getting closer to the bulk of the hostiles, so I can get their attention and draw them from you all.”

“Excuse me?” Miranda hisses into the mic, and Bruno feels the metaphorical knife sinking into his stomach. “You don’t get to decide these things! You haven’t even answered if you are hurt or if you are close enough to where we could have intercepted you to make it out of here together. You aren’t giving us a chance to make this happen!”

Bruno shuts his eyes and has to muster up all of his strength and courage for the next few words: “I am your commanding officer, Captain Ryker. I am far  too injured to make it to the evac point. It’s not close to me at all and I am not risking the lives of my men and women to get my ass on a helicopter! I get to decide these things because if I don’t, people die. You are the next commanding officer when I am gone, Miranda, so fucking act like it now.” He wipes the tears from his eyes, glancing around and making sure he’s still clear. “I can’t risk any of you getting captured with me if that’s my fate today. I love you all too much. Am I understood?”

Miranda doesn't reply back, and it's Valdemar that does. “Sir, kick their asses for us, and take as many as you can down, yeah? We’ll still put up your Christmas ornament if you miss it this year. Give them hell.”

Khrys… She simply whispers in the mic, “I already said my farewells. Still heading to rendezvous. I love you, Captain. Stay safe.”

Oscar’s popped up next: “I won’t stop searching and scrubbing all the networks for a trace of you. If you are kept around, they are going to use you, so we will get you back one way or another. I promise. You still have my chess piece, so you have to give it back to me…”

Bruno hears the sound of footsteps coming around the corner. He hides and he preps his pistol, taking on a small patrol of two hostiles once they make their identities known to him. He reloads and cringes to himself, the pain coming from his side biting him savagely. Upon taking a look, he can see the blood seeping through the wound packing. He stifles a grimace, distracting himself by still talking into the mic. “I won’t die. I promise you all I won’t. I plan on coming back for dinner. Just not tonight. And I will give them Hell. Each and every one of them.”

Sebastian is the next to go, and Bruno isn’t upset at all with the helicopter pilot. “First off: Fuck you for getting hurt. I thought you were invincible. Second off: Now who is going to validate my obsession over coffee, monster x reader books, and random tumblr posts I send in the group chat?”

He is cackling at their behavior and knows it’s a mask and that the helicopter pilot is crying, but he plays along, limping down the street, his movements growing more sluggish. Fuck. “My bad, Sebastian. Next time, I will let the hostiles know to aim at just my vests. Also, you can borrow my coffee collection in my closet. French press and my assortment of imported grounds from around the world. As far as your… literature, and I will make a tumblr account when I come back just for you, okay?”

“D-Deal. Thanks, old man,” they stammer back.

“Bru Bru…” Lukas’ voice is so soft and there’s a sense of sadness and despair in it. The man is practically like a son to Bruno. A lot of the younger team members are basically like the kids he would never be able to have, and he is going to miss that part the most. “Please don’t go. I’m sorry I hurt you. I won’t fuck up another air strike. Just don’t go. I won’t drink again.” Lukas is fully sobbing at this point, which is never a good sign for a pilot, and Bruno the leader needs to reel this one in quickly. 

He winces from the broken promises Lukas has made in the past about no longer continuing down the path of alcohol dependency to make it through the day, and he rubbed his face. “Son, I will never blame you for this, but I need you to make that choice for yourself. I need you to stop drinking for your own betterment, and not for me.”

“Guys.” Kieran cuts in, his voice cold as ice, and yet in this instance it was soothing, “give the men some credit here. Both Lukas and Bruno. Lukas will get better on his own and Bruno is going to come back like the tidal wave that he is. You know he’s going to somehow bullshit his way through and win this whole ass thing over. Plus, he owes us a vacation. Khrys has never gone to Disney World and the thought of seeing the big man in mouse ears is sending me places. So cut the damned theatrics and let’s go.”

Bruno chuckles in his mic and sighs. “Thank you, Kieran. Better words couldn’t have been said. Miranda? Anything to say before this is over?”

“What more is there to say, Captain? Don’t die, return with Honor, and remember where your loyalties lie.” Miranda sounds so cold and upset on the comms. Bruno can’t blame her. He never will. 

His throat clamps up and it’s like he can’t say the words he needs to say. “I… thank you… for everything. For giving me a reason. And a family.” He inhales deeply, so many tears of his own falling, and he isn’t able to stop his voice from cracking, his emotion showing. “Don’t forget me.” He rips out his ear piece and he throws it to the ground, stamping it into the ground with his heel, grinding it into dust if it were possible, screaming from the rippling pain the shock caused. 

Good. He wanted his enemies to come to him. This is it. 

He reaches over to the adrenaline pen he had secured, looking at it curiously in his hand. “So it’s just you and me now, huh?”

The blue liquid shimmers so beautifully in the sunlight, and in mere seconds, it disappears into Bruno. 

It doesn't take long for the effects to kick in. He leans back against the wall for stability as he hears the roaring crash of the waves, the sounds of the beach so far away from there just in his ears. The image flashes before him of a scenic sunset, the lapping waves hugging his body with a cold embrace until it warms him to the core. He can feel it… until the gunfire, smoke, and screaming all around him grounds him to the reality of what truly is happening.

He grits his teeth in silent contempt. He would make them all pay for making him abandon his family. 

His chest tightens up and he feels dizzy, but the man pushes himself off the wall with a growl. He makes it to the end of the alley, hearing vehicles rushing past, heading towards the emergency rendezvous point. “Come and get me, not them,” he mutters, putting himself out in the open and aiming with his razor sharp focus. With a few pulls of his trigger, he sees one of the vehicles swerve and crash into one of the buildings, a cruel smirk on his face. 

“You want me?! Come on!” He roars at the enemies coming out of the truck, firing back at him, and so he takes cover and returns each bullet he can.

There’s more vehicles and more enemies, and when he stands up to aim, he feels a wet slap followed by searing pain in his right shoulder. He screams from the burning metal lodged in him, and he switches hands to fire, using his left instead, but it’s useless when the pistol clicks and he’s finally out of ammo. 

He stays standing and throws his pistol to the ground, the hazing dark in his peripherals coming back to haunt him. This can’t be it. No, I refuse.

Before he knew it, he was surrounded, rifles aimed at him from every direction. He refuses to surrender and he picks up a shattered piece of glass with a jagged end, ignoring the blood trickling out of him. “Get back!” He yells, turning to each enemy and swinging angrily, their rifles still trained on him. 

He sees a woman and man break through the ranks and stare him down, and it hits him that they are the ones in charge. “So you are the ones I need to kill.”

The woman laughs and shakes her head. “You’re dying right in front of us and are still cocky as ever. So be it; I love to see the fire leave your eyes when you stay with us. I hope you enjoy it.”

The man beside her grins as well. “We even have a little friend to keep you company.”

Bruno’s eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to say something, but because his attention was on the man, he doesn’t sense the rifleman behind him until it’s too late. There’s a sharp pain in the back of his head and he topples over, the darkness creeping in close. 

The woman walks up to him, setting the bottom of her boot on his head. “You’ll have fun. Enjoy your nap.” Everything for Bruno goes dark when her boot rises and comes back down, and in his final thoughts, he can only pray his family did get away safely.