#and it’s just not at all lining up with how they were behaving tonight and it really sucks

[notiddygothgf]

14. Taxi

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Make sure Sleeping Beauty over there doesn't puke all over that pretty dress of yours, yeah?  ❞

★ c.w.: smut. drinking (NOT BETA'd. olivia will be my beta-er.) (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: guess who dropped calculussssss!!!! yeah so it didnt wind up working out. i'm like going crazy rn and this story is the only thing keeping me sane. anyway! enjoy this! i had such a blast writing it. most importantly, keep on commenting! you guys keep me goin.

★ w.c: .6.8k

shameless ; chapter index

IT WAS LATE TUESDAY EVENING. Makima was throwing another Newbie welcome party. Your husband had refused to come, saying something about a meeting he had, something about a schedule conflict before kissing your cheek and walking out. You were standing in the lobby of the reception hall, black cocktail dress on, lips painted red, makeup compact open in your palm while you scrutinized your reflection. 

It was 7 PM, the party had started an hour ago, and still, no call from Aki. You told yourself you hadn’t gotten dressed up for him, but as you caught a glimpse of the red against your skin, you wondered just a bit what he’d think when he saw you tonight. A trace of a smile slipped across your lips as you brushed a finger along the edge of your liner, thinking about his sharp, quiet gaze, the way he always looked like he was sizing up a storm in his head.

The thought made you shift on your heels, scanning the room. Seven on the dot, and still no Aki. Strange.

You closed the compact, slipping it into your clutch just as a familiar figure sidled up beside you, grinning.

“Well, now this is something,” Himeno teased, her eyes dancing as she took in your appearance. “You’ve actually arrived before your shadow.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at her. “Where is he, anyway?”

Himeno gave a nonchalant shrug, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. “Think you just missed him, actually. Stepped out with Denji not too long ago,” she hummed, her eyes glinting with a playful spark. “Should be back any minute. Why? Missing your boyfriend already?”

So he is here early. Typical.

A smile played on your lips as you leaned against the bar. “Not my boyfriend,” you corrected, though the denial felt softer than you intended. “But… maybe I am.”

Himeno smirked, nudging you with her elbow. “Oh, I see how it is. All dolled up just for him, huh?”

You laughed again, brushing off the comment. “I dressed up for the event. For everyone. Not for him.”

“Right,” Himeno replied, raising her eyebrows with an exaggerated nod. “You just happened to pick out the dress that’ll make Aki’s brain short-circuit when he sees it.”

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but you refused to let her get to you. “He’ll have to behave,” you said, though you weren’t convinced by the words.

The grand hall was alive with a soft golden glow, tall windows adorned with silk drapes framing the nighttime skyline, and chandeliers casting a warm, intimate light over everything below. Tables lined the walls, each decorated with carefully arranged flowers, while guests mingled in clusters, laughter and conversation creating a steady, harmonious hum. There was an elegance to the space that made you feel like you'd stepped into a scene far removed from the typical demands of the job—almost like you were someone else, someone not bound by secrets or silent glances.

Himeno looped her arm through yours as the two of you wandered further inside, catching up on the usual things—how busy work had been, what new, funny things you’d overheard around the office.

Her eyes sparkled knowingly as she looked at you, amused, before an acquaintance of hers called her over. With an apologetic grin, she squeezed your shoulder, murmuring, “I’ll be back. Try not to get too distracted while I’m gone.”

Left on your own, you wandered among the elegantly dressed guests, your heart racing just a bit faster than usual. You could feel some eyes turning your way—polite, indifferent, but still, enough to make you wonder if they knew something you didn’t want them to. Did they sense the quickening of your pulse, the way you searched the crowd almost instinctively? Or worse, could they somehow know about Aki, and the way your thoughts always seemed to find their way back to him?

With Himeno gone, you found yourself adrift, wandering slowly around the room, unsure of where to settle. The crowd was thick with people, faces both familiar and unfamiliar, all talking, laughing, glasses of champagne in hand. As you moved through the clusters of guests, you could feel it—that prickling sensation at the back of your neck. Glances were being cast your way, fleeting and sideways, some lingering a beat too long before they shifted back to their conversations. You tried to convince yourself it was just because of the dress, or maybe because you weren't blending in as easily as you thought, but the feeling lingered.

The more eyes you caught, the harder it was to ignore the creeping suspicion that there was something more behind them. Did they know? You kept your expression serene, calm, but beneath that calm, questions twisted and tangled. Maybe someone had noticed the way you and Aki sometimes gravitated toward each other at work, the rare glances that lasted a fraction too long, the way you'd sometimes linger in doorways as though waiting for him to appear. 

And if they did know—what were they thinking? The thought made your stomach clench. There was no denying the potential consequences if people found out, if whispers started. The idea of your connection with Aki being exposed, stripped of the privacy you’d both guarded so carefully, sent a jolt of unease through you. You couldn’t bear the idea of becoming fodder for office gossip, or worse, risking his reputation.

An unbidden thought wormed its way in: Would he still care if people found out? Or would he just carry on, unaffected? You shook it off, annoyed at yourself for even entertaining it. Aki had always been the careful one, the one with more at stake, and you knew he wasn’t the type to let others get in the way of what mattered to him.

But here, surrounded by strangers, you felt uncomfortably bare, like people could see right through you. You felt as if your secret was etched across your face for anyone who bothered to look.

Then, just as you were considering slipping away to find a quiet corner, a voice, smooth and familiar, cut through the noise behind you. “Can I have the honor of bringing you a drink?”

You spun around, and there he was, standing close, his icy blue gaze meeting yours with that easy warmth that managed to quiet every doubt swirling in your head. His smile was subtle, restrained, yet there was a certain spark in his eyes, as though he could see right past the formalities, past the anxiety.

“Aki,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

“Long time, no see, troublemaker,” he replied lightly, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. “You looked like you could use a drink,” he added, holding out a glass. As you took it, your fingers brushed, and for just a second, the world narrowed to that point of contact, every stare, every doubt slipping away, as though he were all that mattered.

“Behave. We’re in public,” You reminded him gently – the way a teenage girl would tell her boyfriend to ‘Stawwwwp’ when he play-fought with her. You were sick, you really were.

He quirked a brow, “I don’t think I did anything remarkable by buying you a drink.”

“People already talk,” You replied. “You don’t think it’s strange that the hardass Captain Hayakawa warmed up to one of his subordinates so quickly despite only having met her in public a handful of times?”

He shrugged as if he couldn’t possibly care less. “Let them talk, then. You look beautiful tonight.”

And, like you were 16 all over again, your cheeks warmed at his words. You took a cheeky little sip of the drink he had brought you – Merlot. Your favorite wine. This close to him, you could smell his cologne – that scent you knew so well, combined with the faintest hint of his detergent, of nicotine. You had spent half of the past few months tangled in his sheets. You would have been able to recognize him with your eyes closed, truly.

“And you’re misbehaving,” You retorted, a tongue-in-cheek comment that you knew he would make you eat when he got you alone. 

“Who’s responsible for that?” He answered back without missing so much as a beat. Stepping closer to you, damn near crossing that line between ‘we’re coworkers’ and ‘she and I are having an affair’, he dropped his voice, “That dress looks amazing on you.”

You couldn’t help the grin that took over your face. The warmth that churned in your gut. “Thank you.”

The two of you began to walk around the room. As you strolled alongside Aki, conversation slipping easily between you, you couldn’t ignore the sense of being watched. It was subtle at first—a flicker of movement in your periphery, a quiet murmur that seemed to fade whenever you glanced around.

But then, you caught sight of them: curious eyes fixed on you, darting quickly away when you noticed, but not quickly enough. Their expressions held that familiar mix of polite interest and quiet judgment, a slight narrowing of brows that sent a wave of unease crawling up your spine.

The stares felt sharper, cutting through the careful facade you were trying so hard to maintain. Your heart raced as a thought wormed its way into your mind: They all know.

You shot a glance at Aki, feeling the heat rise to your face. The easy, flirtatious air you’d shared just moments ago suddenly felt fragile, as if it might shatter under the weight of so many eyes. You swallowed hard, nerves turning to panic. If anyone suspected even a fraction of what lingered between you and Aki, it would spread like wildfire. You couldn’t bear to think about the consequences—for him, for you.

Just as the realization started to sink in, you felt a presence at your side, and there she was—Himeno. Without missing a beat, she slid her arm around yours and Aki’s, drawing both of you closer with an effortless ease that seemed to diffuse the tension around you. Her voice cut through the silence with cheerful bravado, clearly meant to distract any lingering gazes. “There you two are! I was just talking to someone about how great it was being able to catch up with you the other day.”

Himeno cast you a knowing glance, a subtle grin that held an unspoken promise of discretion. With a skill that only she could pull off, she steered the conversation into safer territory, dropping a casual comment about the last mission, something innocuous that allowed you to breathe again.

Then, the three of you kept walking. The onlookers returned to their business.

You managed a laugh, though it felt a bit too high-pitched, a bit too forced. But Himeno kept up the chatter, her presence a welcome buffer as she guided you and Aki through the crowded hall, almost as though she was giving the onlookers a reason to lose interest. Her laughter and bright words cast a shield around the three of you, and for a moment, it worked. The weight of the stares started to lift, the sharpness of their gazes fading into a hum of background noise.

“We’re getting our drink on later, right?” She asked Aki– or you, you weren’t really sure.

“I’m supposed to drive home,” Aki answered.

She pouted, “So what? Call a taxi.”

“I’ll have a few with you,” You said. “But only a few.”

You fell into the flow of conversation as best you could, though it was hard to focus with your nerves still on edge. Every now and then, you caught Aki’s gaze as he glanced at you, brow knit slightly in concern, but you both played along, letting Himeno’s words carry the rhythm.

But then, just as you started to relax, to settle back into the night, you spotted him over Aki’s shoulder. Your husband had arrived, standing at the edge of the crowd, his gaze scanning the room. Your stomach dropped, a sick feeling clawing its way up as you tried to think – then he saw you.

What the hell is he doing here?

Before you could even process the thought, he began walking closer, his face composed, unreadable. Panic set in as you realized the impossible tightrope you were balancing on, and you tried to steady your breathing, to keep your expression neutral. Did he know? Or would he just see you as he always did, like you were any other guest in the room?

You tried to shake off the feeling, to rejoin the conversation, but the momentary calm had vanished. Your thoughts raced as you walked through the crowd, navigating the distance between yourself and your husband like it was a dangerous line.

You turned your back, saying, “You buying?”

“It’s an open bar,” She replied. You tried to look normal, to get lost in the sound of her voice, but it didn’t work, “Miss Makima is buying.”

The moment you heard that unmistakable voice behind you, it felt like your heart froze mid-beat. 

“Hi, honey,” your husband’s voice cut through the buzz of the room, smooth and calm. But there was an edge to it, one that sent a jolt of dread straight down your spine. 

You saw Aki’s head perk up, and his eyes narrowed, sharpening into thin slits as he turned, locking his gaze on your husband with a quiet, intense focus. His stance shifted subtly, almost imperceptibly—his hands folded neatly behind his back, his expression unreadable yet taut. He looked every bit the Lieutenant Captain he was, poised and formidable, the easy-going demeanor from earlier vanishing in an instant.

"So, you’re the husband I’ve heard so much about!” Himeno chirped, trying to cover the tension with her usual bravado, stepping forward with a bright smile. She wrapped her arms around your shoulders and squeezed, as though the gesture could somehow shield you from the impending disaster.

Your husband’s half-lidded gaze shifted briefly to her, though his smile barely reached his eyes. "And you are?” His tone was polite, but you could hear the skepticism in it, that subtle doubt as his gaze lingered over Himeno's shoulder, his eyes landing back on Aki, scrutinizing.

You tried to swallow down the knot tightening in your throat, forcing yourself to maintain a calm expression. “Tanimoto, this is Himeno, one of my coworkers,” you said, gesturing to her with a forced, polite smile. Your heart was racing, a nervous energy simmering under your skin, knowing that everything hung by a thread.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Tanimoto nodded, acknowledging Himeno with a quick glance, but his focus quickly returned to Aki, whose steely gaze met his head-on. Neither of them seemed inclined to look away.

This is bad. You felt your pulse spike, every instinct screaming that this was the worst possible situation, an unthinkable confrontation playing out right in front of you.

You cleared your throat, trying to smooth over the tension. “Hayakawa,” you said, gesturing to Aki with a shaky smile, “This is my— my husband, Tanimoto.”

Why was that so hard to say?

Your husband’s expression flickered as he finally extended his hand—only to Aki. The move felt deliberate, his gesture one of formal politeness rather than genuine warmth. Aki glanced down at the outstretched hand, his face unreadable, but made no move to take it.

“Kyoto, right?” Aki asked instead, his tone flat, as if the question itself were a test.

Tanimoto’s brow quirked slightly, but he kept his expression controlled. “Yes. You’re familiar?”

Aki held his gaze, his tone unyielding. “I’m Lieutenant Captain. It’s my job.”

“I’m saying I don’t know what you thought you were doing in Tokyo,” he said, his voice rising. “But word travels in Public Safety. There are rumors about you dancing around with a little Captain, or some shit.”

A flicker of surprise crossed your husband’s face, a slight widening of his eyes as he absorbed the title, the unexpected rank that carried a weight all its own. But he recovered quickly, giving a polite nod. “Of course. My apologies,” he said, with a practiced smoothness.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, the air thick with an unspoken tension that felt fucking electric. 

Himeno, sensing the palpable strain, chimed in with a bright smile. “Well, it’s always nice to meet family! We’re so glad you could join us, even if just for a little bit.” Her voice had an airy quality to it, intentionally lighthearted, but you could see the slight worry in her eyes as she glanced between you and Aki.

Tanimoto didn’t answer her right away. He kept his gaze on Aki a beat longer, then turned to you, his smile settling into something unreadable. “Would you mind if I steal my lovely wife away? Just for a moment?”

Himeno’s gaze flicked to you, silently asking if you were alright. 

You managed a quick nod, and she gave a cheery, “Of course! We’ll be right here when you get back.” Her tone was bright as always, her words meant as reassurance as she gently released her grip on you.

The moment Himeno stepped back, Tanimoto turned and started toward a quieter area a few feet away, his posture rigid. Your heart thundered as you took a breath, then stepped forward, catching up to him as you plastered on a smile, though the pulse in your throat felt thick, tense. 

“I thought you couldn’t make it tonight?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, neutral.

“Meeting let up early,” he answered, his voice clipped. His gaze scanned the room briefly, as though he were evaluating everything around him. “I came to take you home.”

He was mad.

Your heart dropped, and you barely suppressed the urge to step back. You forced a casual smile, though your chest tightened as you tried to gauge his expression. 

"What?" You asked, laughter bubbling up, sounding forced to your own ears. "No, that won’t be necessary."

You shot a quick glance over your shoulder. Aki was still talking to Himeno, but you could feel his blue eyes on you every few seconds, a silent question in his gaze each time it flickered your way. You swallowed, steadying yourself.

"I’m staying. I’ll catch a taxi back," You added, hoping it sounded convincing, though your voice wavered slightly. “The party just started, like, an hour ago.”

Tanimoto’s expression hardened, suspicion flickering over his face as he regarded you. He hesitated, his eyes narrowing as if weighing your words. A long, tense moment passed before he sighed, the sound reluctant, yet resigned. "Alright," he replied slowly. "But don’t be out too late."

He stepped forward to kiss you on the cheek, his lips nearing, and instinctively, you winced, ducking away before he could reach you. His expression darkened slightly, though he quickly masked it, a smile slipping over his features like an ill-fitting glove.

This is horrible.

There was a beat of silence, a silent acknowledgment that neither of you addressed. Then he straightened, nodding curtly. 

"Well," he said, glancing over at Aki and Himeno, "Excuse me for interrupting. Nice meeting you all."

With that, he turned on his heel and made his way to the exit, his footsteps echoing as he left the hall. You exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding over you as the tension began to dissipate.

Himeno was instantly at your side, her expression half-amused, half-concerned as she watched him disappear. "Thanks for covering," you murmured, your shoulders sagging as you let yourself relax for the first time since he’d arrived.

She gave you a sly grin, patting your arm gently. "No problem," she said, shooting a quick glance at Aki, who was watching you both carefully, his arms crossed, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. "But we’ll need to talk later, girl," she added, her voice low and teasing, though there was a note of worry in her eyes.

Aki’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, a flicker of relief passing over his face. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he would have a lot to say later.

Himeno cleared her throat, “So… would now be a good time to hit up that bar?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” You sighed, turning away from Aki’s piercing gaze. You couldn’t bear to look at him. No, you were ashamed. Polishing off the rest of your wine in one go, you added, “I need something stronger than this.”

As the night went on, the conversation began to flow a little easier – as did the booze. In fact, by the time the party was drawing to a close, the three of you were completely inebriated. Himeno had that pinkish flush to her face that you remembered so well. Aki was practically slumped over after his (??)th cocktail of the night. You were blinking tiredly at Himeno, at whatever story she was telling you that you hadn’t been listening to.

The three of you were stood outside of the venue. Arms crossed over your body to brace yourself against the cold wind, you replied, “That’s bull.”

“That’s what I said!” Himeno slurred. “I told him to quit playing in my face. It’s a real problem – men, these days.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” You agreed half-assedly, gaze trickling over to your lover, whose eyes were glazed over with a drunken look. He was in no shape to drive back, that was for sure. “Aki, are you driving home?”

“Yeah, I…” He swallowed, swaying slightly on his feet – at six-foot-something, he looked like a skyscraper, bending in the wind. Slowly, like he had to think extra hard about it, he continued, “Yeah… I am.”

“I don’t think so,” Himeno answered before you could say the same thing. “You should call a taxi.”

“Taxis are for wussies,” Aki grumbled beneath his breath. Still, when you cast him a pout, he stepped towards the curb. 

So cute.

The wind outside the venue felt sharper against your flushed skin, biting through the remnants of warmth left over from the drinks. You crossed your arms over your chest, bracing against the chill, though the sight of Aki swaying slightly on his feet in his drunken stupor was enough to bring a small smile to your face.

“Come on, Aki. Be sensible,” you coaxed, giving him a soft pout of your own.

He sighed, reluctantly stepping toward the curb to wave a taxi down. It was cute, watching him try to flag one down with all the determination he could muster, though most cars drove past him without so much as slowing down.

Himeno leaned in, nudging you gently. “He doesn’t look so hot. Maybe you should see him home safe?”

You sighed, glancing over at Aki as he cursed at a passing taxi. “You’re probably right.”

He grumbled something incoherent, swaying a bit as another cab sped past him. 

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “What a night.”

“What a night, indeed, girly.” Himeno pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a long drag before she exhaled into the cold night air. She held the pack toward you, her eyes half-lidded with a mixture of exhaustion and tipsy satisfaction. You declined politely, and she shrugged, tucking it back into her bag.

“So… you cab-hopping with us?” you asked, feeling a bit of reluctance at the thought of her leaving.

She shook her head, her lips curving into a sly grin. “Nah. When you drink on the daily, driving comes naturally.” She waved you off with a lazy salute.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a taxi slowed to a stop at the curb, and Aki staggered up to it, gesturing for you to get in. “It’s for you,” he called, the words a bit slurred. “Get you home safe.”

You stepped closer, folding your arms and giving him a playful look. “I’m coming home with you,” you called back.

His eyes widened, and then, he smirked, one of those warm, lazy smiles that made your heart skip. “I like the sound of that.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Just get in the damn taxi. I wanna say bye, first.” 

He pouted but got in, slumping down and muttering to the driver, half-lidded eyes still on you as he settled into the seat.

You turned back to Himeno, laughing softly. “Get home safe, okay?”

She took another drag of her cigarette, her gaze softening a bit. “You too. And make sure Sleeping Beauty over there doesn’t puke all over that pretty dress of yours, yeah?”

You grinned. “I’ll see you around?”

“Always,” she replied, giving you a wink as she turned, already headed back inside the venue.

With one last glance, you slipped into the taxi, shutting the door behind you. The driver pulled away, and you relaxed into the seat, feeling the tension of the night start to ebb. Aki was staring out the window, a soft smile on his face, and when he caught sight of you beside him, his expression softened.

As the taxi moved through the quiet streets, Aki’s head lulled to the side, and he let out a small sigh before resting it against your shoulder. You stiffened at first, the unexpected weight and warmth of him surprising. But he looked so peaceful, so unguarded in this moment that you felt the tightness in your shoulders ease.

“Missed you,” he murmured, his voice soft and heavy with drowsiness, each word dragging as if he were only half-awake.

In a rare, unfiltered moment of abandon, he leaned further into you, snuggling against your shoulder shamelessly, letting out a contented hum. You found yourself smiling softly, letting your head rest against his for just a moment, savoring the quiet intimacy that had so rarely been yours to enjoy.

“Aki, don’t be a baby,” You laughed.

Aki pressed a wet kiss to your neck, then another. “I can’t wait to get you out of this dress,” He slurred against your skin. 

A part of you yearned for nothing more than that. Still, one spare glance over at him, at the way he was practically slumped over you – six feet of man nearly crushing you – and you knew no such thing was happening.

Sure, you thought to yourself.

Five minutes later, you finally managed to steer him through the front door. Once you reached the bed, Aki all but collapsed onto it, sprawling out immediately, limbs splayed as he peered up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze that was both bleary and endearing. You stood over him, shaking your head as you reached for his blazer, fumbling a little with the sleeves as he sat half-propped up, his arms nearly dead weight in your hands.

“Gotta take this off,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, as you tugged the blazer free. He blinked at you, a sleepy smile pulling at his lips.

“Come to bed,” he drawled, his words stretching out as he reached for you, pulling you down so you were inches from him.

“Just a minute,” you promised with a soft laugh, brushing his hand away gently. “I’m just going to take my shoes off. Be right back.”

Reluctantly, he released his hold on you, and you watched him flop back, eyes following you with a warm, bleary gaze as you walked over to his dresser. After a moment’s thought, you pulled open one of the drawers and found an old T-shirt—soft and worn from years of wear—and slipped it out, holding it close as you headed to the bathroom.

Inside, you closed the door behind you, taking a steadying breath as you caught your reflection in the mirror. You looked a little undone, your makeup smudged, hair slightly tousled, but the dress… it still looked good, clinging to you in all the right places. You took one last look, savoring the way you looked tonight, then slipped out of the dress, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. You reached for the T-shirt, pulling it over your head and letting it drape down, its fabric oversized and comfortable against your skin, smelling faintly of him.

The mirror caught your eye again as you reached for his face wash, and with a soft smile, you lathered it up between your hands, then began gently washing away the remnants of your makeup, the cool water a refreshing relief on your skin. Rinsing off the last traces, you looked up at your reflection, a little softer now, a little more natural—and somehow, that felt even better.

With a final glance at the mirror, you turned off the faucet and padded back to the bedroom, where Aki lay sprawled out, just as you’d left him, his eyes now closed. Smiling, you climbed into bed beside him, careful not to disturb him too much, though as soon as you settled, he shifted instinctively, rolling toward you. His arm draped over you, heavy but comforting, and he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

“Aki,” you whispered with a grin, your hand brushing gently over his back. “I have to go… my husband…”

He hummed, barely conscious, and mumbled, “Few more minutes…” His hand curled a little tighter around you as if refusing to let go.

You bit back a quiet laugh and let yourself relax, resting one hand on his shoulder as the other threaded through his hair. You traced gentle circles into his scalp, brushing his hair back, and he settled deeper into sleep, his breathing falling into a soft, steady rhythm.

Settling down beside him, you let out a quiet, contented sigh as Aki instinctively rolled toward you, his arm slipping over your waist with a sleepy possessiveness. His face nestled close to your neck, and you could feel the faint warmth of his breath against your skin, soft and steady, a rhythm that seemed to calm your own heartbeat. You stayed still for a moment, just letting yourself savor the feeling of his weight pressing into you, grounding you, his entire presence a heavy warmth against your side.

With a gentle smile, you shifted, letting your hand drift to his hair, fingers sinking into the soft, inky strands that spilled over his forehead and brushed against his closed eyelids. His hair was messy from the night, a few pieces sticking up in places, and the sight filled you with a deep tenderness. Slowly, you began to run your fingers through it, smoothing it back gently, and as you did, you felt him release a soft sigh, his body relaxing even more fully into the mattress.

You let your fingertips trace along his scalp in gentle, rhythmic strokes, moving from his forehead back to the nape of his neck, where the hair grew slightly coarser. He let out a little contented murmur, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he shifted closer to you, his arm tightening just a little around your waist as if to keep you there. The sound he made was so endearing, so soft, that it made you ache with a fondness that was almost too much to hold inside.

As your hand moved along the curve of his head, brushing back a few loose strands that had fallen over his eyes, you let your thumb trace softly along his temple, feeling the slight warmth of his skin beneath it. He looked so peaceful, his usual furrowed brow now relaxed, his sharp features softened in sleep. You could see the faint shadows under his eyes—traces of all the late nights and worries that weighed on him more than he let on—and it made you wish you could keep him like this, in this tranquil state, where everything was quiet and safe.

You continued petting his hair, your hand moving with a tender slowness, tracing little circles along his scalp, letting your fingertips drift along his hairline. Occasionally, he’d mumble something incoherent in his sleep, his lips barely moving as he settled deeper into slumber, his face nuzzling closer to the crook of your neck. You could feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin, a light, tickling sensation that made you smile.

Minutes stretched on in a warm, quiet haze as you watched him, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips parted slightly in relaxation. At one point, he murmured something close to a whisper, his arm curling around you a little tighter, and you couldn’t help but press a soft kiss to the crown of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of him—something warm and grounding that seemed to soothe something deep within you.

As the clock ticked on toward 11 p.m., you felt a small pang of reluctance, knowing you’d have to get up soon, but still, you waited a few moments longer. You let yourself linger, your hand threading through his hair one last time, your thumb brushing over his cheek in a gentle, barely-there caress. Aki let out a final, contented sigh, his breathing deep and even, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest as you realized he was fully, blissfully asleep.

At last, with a soft exhale, you began to ease yourself out of his hold, moving slowly so as not to wake him, your fingers slipping away from his hair. You brushed one last stray lock from his forehead before gently shifting off the bed, giving him one last fond look as he lay there, still wrapped in peaceful dreams – dreams which you could only hope were about you.

407… 408… 409… 410. You drunkenly read the numbers off of the wall as you stumbled towards you and your husband’s hotel room. 413.. 413… 413! Found it.

You opened the door with the key quietly, as if it would make any difference. Your husband could have slept through anything. Gently, you opened the door, and shut it behind you even more gently. When you were sure that he was still asleep, you kicked your heels off – yes, you got into a cab wearing Aki’s tee as a dress to accompany your high heels. Your dress was tucked beneath your arm. 

It was dark in the room. So dark, in fact, that you could hardly see your own two legs as they moved towards the bedroom. 

Is he here? You thought to yourself. Your heart rate climbed at the prospect of him leaving – perhaps he had sniffed you out, after all?

Just then, someone – your husband, assumedly – flicked the lamp on. He was sat directly beneath it, perched in the loveseat with a book propped open in his hands. 

Since when did he read? You thought. And what’s with the freaky lighting?

Swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat, you spoke, “You reading in the dark?”

He said nothing. With a shrug, you set your belongings down on the desk. 

“Sorry I’m back so late. I had to bring Himeno home,” You huffed out a humorless little laugh. “She drank too much for her own good.”

Again, he said nothing. You froze, eyes locking onto the figure settled beneath the lamp – the figure of the man you used to love. The lamp above him cast shadows across his face, catching on the edges of his cheekbones and making his eyes seem hollowed, calculating.

Slowly, he closed his book, fingers lingering over the cover as he looked up at you, his expression unreadable. There was a hint of something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes—disappointment, or maybe anger, simmering just beneath the surface.

“I stayed up to talk to you,” he said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was low, calm, but something about it made you feel small, like a child caught in a lie.

“Oh?” you managed, swallowing down the uneasy feeling that had been growing in your chest. “About what?”

His gaze never left you as he spoke, his voice coldly measured. “I wanted to tell you that you might, by indiscretion, give the world a reason to talk about you.”

“I’m not a committee,” you replied, attempting a casual smile, though it came off more strained than you’d intended. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward, his fingers laced together. “You and Captain Hayakawa attracted attention tonight.” His voice remained even, though you caught a flicker of something sharp in his gaze. “I didn’t notice anything myself, but it seems everyone else did.”

Shit.

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “What on earth are you talking about?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Look, I’ve told you this before, and I’ll say it again. I have no right to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. Your decisions concern only your moral compass. But I wanted to remind you that we are married, bound by god. Only a sin against him can break that bond.”

You felt a swell of frustration, heat rising in your cheeks. “I would hardly consider conversation to be a sin.”

He cocked his head, his eyes narrowed as if dissecting you, trying to catch the slightest falter. “A conversation is just what we see,” he said quietly. “Who knows what could have happened while you were out… gallivanting?”

The accusation, so thinly veiled, made you go rigid. “You’re accusing me, then?” you said, a slight tremor in your voice. “Accusing me of… cheating?”

“I never said that.” His gaze remained steady, unwavering. “Unless, of course, there’s something you’re not telling me?”

The words struck a nerve, and you bit back an exasperated sigh, the tension inside you bubbling over. “You don’t like it when I don’t talk to people, and you don’t like it when I do,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Stop doing that… that thing where you talk circles around me. It’s too late for this.”

The room felt suffocating, his presence weighing heavily on you, pressing down until you couldn’t take it anymore. Turning on your heel, you began to make your way to the bathroom, needing a moment of quiet, a second to breathe. He moved as if to follow, but you held up a hand, not looking back.

“Don’t follow me,” you said, the words barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you.

Without another glance, you walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You took a breath and stared into the mirror. Reaching up, you began to undo your hair, tugging pins free one by one. With each one that dropped onto the counter, a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders, and finally, you let your hair fall loose, watching it spill over your shoulders.

The door creaked, and you caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror as your husband appeared in the doorway. His silhouette was softened by the dim lighting, but his expression held that same guarded intensity.

“If I’m wrong, then… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. For a brief moment, you saw something else there—maybe regret, maybe exhaustion.

You’re not. You’re completely right. I'm having an affair.

We’re in love.

I want a divorce.

You took a steadying breath, choosing your words carefully, though it was hard to keep the bitterness from your tone. “You are.” Letting the silence settle between you, you finally added, “Can we just… go to bed, please?”

He nodded, exhaling softly as he moved back toward the bedroom. After taking a final glance in the mirror, you followed, feeling an ache that settled somewhere deep inside you, one that even the cool darkness couldn’t soothe.

He had already slid beneath the covers when you came in, lying on his side with his back to you, the silence between you stretching out uncomfortably. You climbed into bed beside him, the mattress dipping as you shifted into your usual place, though tonight it felt almost foreign.

In the quiet, words bubbled up unbidden, slipping past your lips in a murmur to yourself. “Too late.”

“Missed you,” Aki gasped, pressing his palms deep into your lower back, pushing you down a little further. When he thrusted forward, the car jolted. 

You thought of his words from earlier – his comment about makeup sex being the best way to reconnect after time apart. And, shit, he was right. As he fucked you open only a few miles away from the hotel where your husband was fast asleep, you couldn’t have agreed more.

You cried out for him, fingers digging into the leather seats of his car. He was so fucking deep – it was driving you crazy. 

“Aki,” You breathed out his name – two simple syllables, a trick of the tongue as it rolled off with ease. It felt so good to have him like this after going so long without seeing him. The two of you were entangled in the backseat – you, face down with your back arched all the way up while he took you from behind at an angle so brutal it had you drooling all over leather seats. Your slushies were getting warm in the cupholders, long forgotten.

Every time his hips were flush up against your ass, you could do nothing but claw harder, moan louder, worship him. Desperately, you rutted your hips back.

“Mis– Missed you t-too,” You managed to stutter out. 

“Oh, fuck,” He sighed. “Cum with me, baby. I love you.”

You loved him too. More than he knew. So much so, in fact, that you fell over the edge only a moment later with an, “I love you, too!”

You loved him with your entire body and soul.

a/n: im not gonna say much, but i will say that i hope you enjoyed this fluffy little chapter! the next one will be a much harder read. muah! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[bongosblorbos]

there is no grosser feeling than men laughing at you. Nothing. These are guys that I trusted too like I thought they were my friends. Instead they’re literally taking pictures and making fun of me in front of my face

[clockwayswrites]

So far this file is called 'birdritch'. Those of you who follow my art tumblr might know where this is going. I needed something light to write, been a low day. There has been zero editing or reading through and it is past 2am, sorry and enjoy! (Don't need any typos pointed out, ty.)

---

“You are supposed to be home.”

Danny blinked up from his work to find Lucius Fox standing in the doorway of the lab. The man had the sport of expression one wore around a child who had just done something disappointing.

(Danny was used to the look, even if it had been a long time since he'd been a kid. Or seen his parents, for that mater.)

“Okay, but,” Danny started, “we agreed that I could start at ten and take my eight hours and one for lunch—”

“A mandatory one hour for lunch away from your desk,” Lucius interrupted.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been doing that! I’ve been eating out on the rooftop garden or even leaving the building and eating out or taking lunch to the park. I’ve been behaving, Lucius, I promise.”

Lucius raised a judgmental brow. “It’s after eight, Danny.”

“What? No. I have an alarm on my phone and everything… okay, well, that only works if my phone is charged.” Danny jabbed uselessly at his phone screen. He followed the charger, which was plugged in, all the way to the wall. He resisted the urge to let his head fall against the wall. “I guess Leslie fried the outlet again or something. I’m sorry, Lucius.”

“It’s fine, Danny,” Lucius said, “but only because, one, I know you have been trying, and two, I am going to buy you the most embarrassing alarm clock I can find and mount it to something in this lab. Now it is late and I am going home and so are you, Mr. Fenton.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Fox,” Danny said and made an exaggerate show of packing up his backpack, dead phone and all.

Lucius gave a little snort at the antics, but left with a ‘get home safe, Danny’. After his boss was gone, Danny took the time to actually make sure everything was in his bag and secure. He still didn’t get why he couldn’t just work late, but apparently WE had something of an insistence of work life balance. According to Lucius, Danny crossed the line too often and so was being kept in line. (Danny didn’t think mention he didn’t have much of a life, literally and otherwise, would help his case.)

Still, Danny mused as he stepped inside the empty elevator, the rules did keep him from becoming his parents. And that was a very, very good thing! Being a mad scientist in Gotham usually ended up landing someone in Arkham. It was just that after the chaos that Danny grew up with, going back to his empty apartment was depressing. It wasn’t as if Danny never got out and did things, it was just that all those things were mostly on the weekend. Most days he just didn’t have a reason to go back to his place.

There was no getting out of it tonight, the great and powerful Fox had spoken and Danny knew better than to try and sneak back up. He lifted his hands over his head, stretching as the elevator descended the last few floors. Oh well, at least it was before ten. He could still grab something on the way home and have a full, warm meal to take his pain meds on. By the pull along his forearm he would need them.

“Night, Bill,” Danny said as he passed the security guard who was on the evening shift. He got another ‘get home safe’ in response and gave a little wave in reply over his shoulder.

Even after the few years in Gotham, it still amused Danny how much everyone wished everyone else some sort of safe travels here. As much as Gotham was a city of hardened realists, there still was so much hope about it. Hope people got home safely, that the Bats would get where they were need in time, that the city would rebuild again and again and again. The undercurrent of hope was so strong that Danny could practically feel it moving through the city like a river.

It had been one of the reasons Danny had taken the job.

He could use hope.

He also had been very careful not to look too closely into it all. While Danny’s early life may have been dominated by the occult, he tried to stay away from it these days outside of the necessary visits to the Realm for his health. As much as the Far Frozen was full of ghost yetis, Frostbite was still a being of science and being there felt more like a cold vacation to his weird relatives than anything else those days.

Danny was actually worried that he was getting close to needing another visit. He shouldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t actually due back for another three months, but the thought of visiting Frostbite had been pulling at the back of Danny’s mind. The most annoying part of it all, is that there wasn’t any concrete reason that Danny felt he needed to go, just a lot of little things: the ache was deeper in his bones, he’d been missing noticing little things, his near constant vertigo was worse, and, oddest of all, he had been feeling chilled.

Maybe he should just take a long weekend and go for a quick visit.

Lucius would undoubtedly approve of the break.

Tomorrow, Danny would ask tomorrow.

(As long as he remembered.)

[dwaekkicidal]

The Easy Way vs The Hard Way

˚ʚBang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: I was thinking about brat taming the other day and I came to the conclusion that Chris has 2 different ways to tame a brat. So I procrastinated on my fics + assignments and wrote this :)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, largely based around Daddy kink, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3), breeding mentions, Chris calls himself Daddy, 'good girl' used #2: kinda hard dom!chris, man handling, spanking

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: sorry not sorry that 'hard' is longer than 'easy' (are u surprised? have you SEEN my content?) and take this off of schedule because I hate letting things sit in my drafts for more than a day 😭 ALSO Sharing is Caring part 2 coming out later this week :3 (along with a Jisung request I got hehe <3)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

I think he has 2 ways of taming brats depending on what his mood is. So here's a little scenario to picture so that I can explain what I mean!

After a long day for the both of you, you guys indulge each other in a nice hour or 2 of foreplay before he finally fucks you. After you both finish, Chris pulls away to watch his cum drip out of you and you wiggle your hips to tease him. He slaps your ass playfully in response and teases you back by saying something along the lines of “Unless you’re trying to get bred tonight, I suggest you stop shaking your ass at me like that baby.” “As if you would complain about that. For somebody who calls himself ‘Daddy’ and says he ‘DoEsN’t MeAn It LiKe ThAt’, you sure as hell are trying to become one.” He originally laughs, but once he processes that you mocked him he rolls his eyes at you, “Just have to be a little brat? Maybe I didn’t fuck you thoroughly enough.” You scoff, crossing your arms and turning to look at him, “You think you do that anyways?”

So. How does theee Bang Christopher Chan deal with this?

‘Easy’ Way; aka “kill them with kindness”

“You think you do that anyways?”

He simply narrows his eyes at you, placing his hands on his hips, “Yeah?”

You proudly respond with an “Mhm." and stick your chin up.

He chuckles, stepping towards you and raising his hand to rest against your cheek, softly caressing the skin there. “But baby, you were just the one begging me to fuck you. Surely if I ‘never’ fucked you thoroughly enough, you wouldn’t be on your knees begging for my dick to be in you?”

You frown and he laughs in response, not giving you a chance to speak up before he continues. His free hand trails down your stomach and stops at your cunt, where he ghosts his fingers along your folds. You whimper and chew on your bottom lip, looking away from him shyly.

"And... Where did my good girl go? Hm? My pretty baby who listens soo well.” His fingers tease your hole before you’re filled with two of them. “My sweet doll who would never let her Daddy down like this.” His fingers double their efforts and the hand on your cheek slides a thumb into your puffy lips. "The good girl who doesn’t disrespect her Daddy like this… Where is she at?” Your breath suddenly becomes hectic and he can tell you’re getting close.

Between the bittersweet words and the eager movements against your pussy, you slip into another mindset all too easily. He smiles when you finally look at him with glossy eyes and respond in a small voice, "'M right here..." He tilts his head at you expectantly and you squirm in his hold before repeating yourself louder. "I'm right here Daddy.."

"Oh, hi baby. Is my good girl back now?" You nod desperately in response, tightening your hands into fists against his chest as you grip around his fingers. "And is she ready to behave?"

"Yes, Daddy. 'M sorry.."

"Shhh, it’s okay baby. Now be good and cum on my fingers, kay?"

Hard’ Way; aka “fuck around and find out”

“You think you do that anyways?”

His eyebrows furrow and his tongue drags against the inside of his cheek. “Yeah? You’re really gonna do this right now? Right after I was nice enough to let you cum?” You gulp but stand your ground, making a scene to roll your eyes and lean back against the headboard.

He sits there silently, trying to give you another chance to come to your senses to realize that you’re butt ass naked in front of him and at his mercy. When you instead cock your head sideways with a bunch of attitude, he sighs loudly. His hands suddenly grips your ankles and drags you towards him. Then you’re flipped into your stomach and he renters you with no warning.

Your jaw drops and you moan loudly in surprise. His hands take turns slamming down against your ass cheeks over and over, seemingly getting harder with each slap. He sighs contently at the way you cling tightly around him with each smack, and he only stops once your cheeks are beet red and you’re trembling below him.

He hums to himself and taps the flesh, making it burn more and watching as you shake. "Such a pretty thing with such pretty reactions.. If only you were a good plaything and shut that pretty mouth for once."

He watches as your head snaps back towards him for a moment, the angry face and tears running down your face only make him smile at you. You feel his hips drag away from you, painfully slowly, until only the first centimeter or two of his tip are in you. You're taking a deep breath trying to regain your composure when a hand grabs a tight grip of your hair and pulls you backwards, his hips slamming forward at the same time.

A choke leaves you at the suddenness but he wastes no time, using the leverage in your hair to hold you in place as he fucks into you roughly. The aftermath of your previous orgasm sneaks up on you and you feel another one building up in no time. You melt into the sheets at the feeling, shaking as you almost tip over from one of the faster orgasms you've experienced, but Chris proves himself to be faster.

In an instant he's pulling out completely and holding you down preemptively for when you start thrash and whine. He waits until you stop kicking your feet at him, a tell tale sign that the tightness in your stomach finally faded, then he all of the sudden plunges back into you. The slide against your walls is rough, but you can’t deny how well it’s breaking down your resolution.

He uses the hand in your hair to tilt your head up at him when he leans forward to tower over you. It's very uncomfortable but it gives him the advantage as his narrowed eyes bore directly into you. He eventually changes positions, not wanting to actually hurt you like that, and he uses the new one to bring you to another orgasm. One that he, of course, ruins immediately with no hesitation.

This happens multiple times across the next 2 hours, to the point where you lost count of how many orgasms slipped away. It's not until you're sobbing beneath him and no longer kicking at him with each ruined orgasm, that he's flipping you onto your back and leaning down to kiss your tears away.

"Are you done now, love? You ready to be my good girl again?"

Your arms wrap around his neck and your lower lip trembles as you nod. He smiles, petting your hair and cooing at you before returning to his previous pace fucking you.

"There we go..."

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

[itneverendshere]

trying to behave, but i'm feelin' some type of way - r.c drabble.

request: rafe x bitchy!pogue reader pleaseeeee!!!! he just hates that he wants her soo fucking bad and she finds it hilarioussss warnings: it gets steamy but no smut!; slutshaming; mean!rafe.

you’re out of place here, which is exactly why you’re here, tannyhill.

fuck them. fuck him.

every high-strung kook princess with their perfectly manicured nails gives you a quick once-over, nostrils flaring when they catch the sight of your scuffed-up boots. not that you care. it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone.

and why should you? you’re only here for the free booze, it’s not your fault this place is such a bore. always all pearls, pastels, and the scent of white wine and privilege. who the fuck drank white whine at a party? but the real reason you’re here, the whole damn reason, is staring straight at you from across the room.

rafe cameron. ugh and yum.

he’s leaning against the bar, muscles taut under that fitted navy polo like he was born to flex, with a scowl as always. it’s always that look—the one that’s aimed solely at you, every time he sees you. it’s practically a tradition by now. you show up somewhere, he glares.

there’s a tightness in his shoulders, something tells you he’s going to snap eventually, maybe it’s because you’ve been pushing buttons lately. maybe it’s because he’s got his daddy’s expectations hanging over his head like a guillotine.

or maybe it’s just because he wants you, and that little inconvenient truth pisses him off to no end.

you flash him a slow, lazy grin, shifting your hips as you grab a beer from the cooler. when you catch the way his eyes drag over you, lingering on your exposed skin, your stomach hums with satisfaction.

let him look. let him stew in it.

“country club,” you call sweetly, raising your bottle in a mock toast, the light catching on the condensation like it’s winking at him. “how’s it going?”

his jaw ticks, his lips pressing into a thin, flat line. “you shouldn’t be here.”

“and yet, here i am,” you sing-song back, taking a slow, pointed sip. you’re feeling reckless tonight. he’s dangerous, sure. but he’s also predictable. you know exactly how to make it worse.  “aww, what’s wrong?”

you know exactly this’ll go. he’ll insult you, you’ll insult him back, and then—

his eyes narrow dangerously, that vein in his temple ticking. “what the fuck are you wearing?”

you blink innocently, glancing down at yourself. “clothes, obviously. why? does it bother you?”

“yeah,” he snaps, eyes raking over you again, lingering on the swell of your chest, the sliver of skin peeking out above your waistband. “aren’t you tired of slutting yourself around?”

your lips curl into a smirk, the slow burn of satisfaction warming your chest. this is exactly what you were hoping for.

“slutting myself around?” you echo, voice teasing. “didn’t know you were keeping tabs.” you cock your head, letting your gaze linger on his flushed cheeks, the way his nostrils flare, and that slight clench of his fists by his side.

he’s seething—looks ready to burst into flames right here in front of the bar. good.

he’s always been like this with you. short fuse, especially when it comes to what you’re wearing, how you look, where you go. but you’re onto him. you know what it’s really about.

“you must really be obsessed with me,” you continue, “it’s kinda weird, don’t you think?” you take another sip, slow and deliberate, licking your lips as you meet his glare. he steps closer, crowding into your space, his chest brushing against your shoulder. you should back up, or at least pretend to care, but you just tilt your head, looking up at him with a smug little grin. “what’s wrong?” you murmur, “feeling a little tense?

“fuck off,” he grits out, stepping back like he’s burned. but it’s too late. you’ve got him now.

you cock your head, giving him a slow, taunting smile. “why? afraid you’ll get hard in front of your little friends?”

his eyes darken, jaw clenched so hard you wonder if it hurts. “i swear to god—”

“what?” you interrupt, teeth flashing. “you gonna hit me? break another one of your daddy’s toys?” you wave your hand around the pristine room, the glittering chandelier, the polished bar. “go on, then. show everyone what a psycho you are.”

“you think i won’t?” 

“yeah, i think you won’t,” you say softly, staring right into those burning blue eyes of his. “because you’re all bark and no bite.”

“you wanna see bite?” he murmurs, voice dripping venom. “i’ll show you fucking bite.”

then his hand snaps out, wrapping around your upper arm, and before you can react, he’s yanking you out of the room, down a hallway that’s all shadowed corners. you stumble, cursing under your breath, but he doesn’t stop until you’re both crashing through a side door into some empty back corridor.

“jesus, cameron, take a fucking xanax—” you start, wrenching your arm free.

for a second, you think you’ve gone too far. his whole body goes still, and something flares in his gaze—something unhinged and a little bit terrifying. but instead of snapping, instead of throwing a punch, he leans in, so close you can feel the heat of him against your skin.

you’re shoved against the wall, hard, his body caging yours in, his hands braced on either side of your head. you freeze, breath hitching. he’s close—too close—and it’s too hot and too much and—

“shut up,” he growls.

you should tell him to fuck off. you should knee him in the balls. you should do anything but feel the way you do right now—flushed, breathless, and…too horny for your own good. 

“do you always have to be so fucking dramatic?” you huff, placing your hand in chest in a futile attempt to push him away. you know he can break you in half if he wants to. 

he doesn’t move of course, just stares at you, chest heaving like he’s just run a marathon. he’s got that crazed look in his eyes that should make you run for the hills, and yet you stay put.

and then, suddenly, his mouth is on yours, demanding and angry.

it’s not a kiss—it’s a punishment. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding against yours with a harshness that steals your breath. you gasp, your hands coming up to shove him away again, but somehow they get tangled in his hair instead, gripping the soft strands as he presses closer, closer— it’s a disaster. you’re a disaster. because you don’t pull away. 

you kiss him back like an idiot, just as desperate, your nails digging into his scalp as you pour all your frustration into the kiss. why does he have to be this hot? in your books, kooks aren't allowed to be hotter than a 5. unfortunately, rafe is a solid eleven.

he tastes like mint and rage, and it shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. god, it does. he breaks away, panting, glaring down at you like you’re dirt under his shoes. “you drive me fucking insane, y’ know that?”

“good,” you gasp, licking your lips. “you deserve it.”

he laughs, a low, harsh sound. “you’re such a fucking bitch.”

“and you’re a spoiled, narcissistic asshole,” you snap back, shoving at his chest. he doesn’t even flinch, just glares harder, and it sends a thrill through your entire body. you’d never seen him like this, so unguarded and it was weirdly intoxicating. 

“i should ruin you,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself. his hand comes up, fingers brushing your jaw, trailing down your throat. “make you beg.”

you keep your expression defiant. “you think you can?”

rafe smirks, slow and dangerous, and it makes something burst in your belly. “i know i can.”

his hand slides lower, fingertips brushing the hem of your top, and your breath catches. you should stop this again. you should slap him, kick him, do anything but let him keep touching you like that, but you don’t. you just stare up at him, heart racing.

“show me then.”

and then his hands are on you, yanking you forward, spinning you around. you gasp, palms slapping against the wall as he presses up behind you, his body solid against yours.

“you’re a fucking brat,” he growls, his mouth right against your ear. one of his hands comes up, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to make your back arch.

“and you’re obsessed with me,” you shoot back breathlessly, tilting your head to meet his gaze over your shoulder.

rafe’s grip tightens in your hair, hard enough to sting, and his lips brush your earlobe, “obsessed?” he repeats, like he can’t believe you had the fucking audacity to say it. “don’t flatter yourself, baby.”

but you feel the way his body presses against yours. your panties might be drenched but this man is just as hard. he’s close to you—so fucking close—you feel every ridge of him, and despite every insult he’s ever thrown your way, despite how much he claims to hate you, he’s here. the way he’s breathing tells you exactly what you need to know. 

you twist against him, pushing back just enough to test his restraint. “then why are you so worked up, huh?”

“i think you’re confusing us.”

“sure,” you laugh, even as his hands move down your sides, his fingernails digging into your hips. “that’s why you dragged me out here, right? because you’re just so indifferent?”

his chest brushes against your back with every ragged breath. he’s losing it. you’re making him lose it. and fuck, that feels good.

“i could ruin you,” he whispers again, like he’s trying to convince himself. his hand skim up your ribs, thumb grazing the underside of your tit, and your senses kicks into overdrive. “one word from me, and you’re done.”

“you’re all talk cameron,” you challenge, arching your back slightly, giving him more room to touch you.

you shouldn’t want this—you shouldn’t need this—but you can’t stop. 

his mouth is on your neck, hot and open, teeth scraping against your skin in a way that sends a shudder from your head to your toes.

“fuck you,” he growls against your throat, the words almost lost in the heat of his mouth. “i’m not playin’ your games.”

you bite back a moan, fingers curling against the cold wall. “you’re already playing.”

“you’re so fucking—” he cuts himself off, breathing harshly through his nose. “fuck, i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” you turn your head just enough to catch his eye. his gaze is wild, and you smirk, taunting him with your lips just inches from his. “you wish you did.”

you know you’re pushing your luck, but then again, when haven’t you?

“you have no fucking clue what i wish,” he growls, each word dripping with so much frustration it makes you laugh.

it comes out like a soft, mocking sound. “ooh, i think i do. you wish i’d shut up. wish i’d disappear. but you really wish you didn’t get hard every time ’m around.”

his jaw ticks, that telltale sign that you’re getting to him. god, he hates you. you can see it in his clenched teeth, his furrowed brows. he hates that he wants a pogue and you find it hilarious.

“don’t flatter yourself pogue,” he snaps, but his voice is strained. his hands tighten on your hips, fingers biting into your skin just shy of painful.

you push back against him just a little harder again, feeling the rigid line of his cock pressed against your ass.

“yeah?” your voice turns breathy. “then why do i feel that?” you grind your hips subtly, just to punctuate the point, and the low sound that rumbles out of him is almost worth the risk of provoking him further.

“because you’re a fucking tease,” he mutters, voice harsh and low in your ear. “you show up, looking like you want it—”

“and so what if i do?”

it’s a dare. he’s holding you, like he can’t decide if he wants to strangle you or fuck you senseless, perhaps both. you know you’ve crossed some invisible line.

“you’re gonna regret this,” he murmurs.

“maybe,” you shoot back, unflinching. “but that’s the thing, rafe.” you twist, just enough to look at him over your shoulder, “i think you’re more scared of what you might regret.”

instead of shoving you away, instead of storming off, he does the one thing you didn’t expect. he laughs.

it’s that crazy sound he makes before he does something reckless every time, the kind that makes people run away. it’s such a humorless sound, it should scare the living shit out of you as he leans in, lips brushing against your neck. “don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

before you can answer, one hand slides up to cup your jaw, tilting your head back so you’re forced to meet his eyes. they’re wild, almost feral, just like you expected.

“tell me to stop,” he whispers, his thumb brushing your lower lip, the touch so gentle it’s almost jarring. “go on, say it.”

you swallow hard, pulse hammering in your throat. you should say it. but you don’t want to.

“make me.” you know he hears you—feels you—because the corner of his mouth lifts in a slow, taunting smirk.

“yeah?” he drawls, thumb slipping from your lip to trace along your jawline, his touch featherlight and maddening. “you sure?”

“prove me wrong. or are you scared?”

“you think ’m fucking scared of you? think i can’t handle a little mouthy brat like you?”

he’s goading you, pushing you like he always does, and every word you had prepared dies on your lips 

“i’d loooove to see you try.”

“oh, you will.”

[killerpancakeburger]

Scary Dog Privilege 3

You thought your days as Ghost's handler over since he started seeing Soap, but when someone's bold enough to lay hands on what's his, you feel obligated to intervene to prevent a massacre.

Inspired by this post by @shotmrmiller /Soap pic cred goes to @yumethefrostypanda

Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, light smut, GuardDog!Ghost x Handler!Reader, Ghoap x Reader, dom!Ghost, dom!Reader, sub!Soap, light degradation towards Soap. Soap gets treated like a mutt, Ghost is Smug™️, what else is new! I can't write smut so they don't go all the way sorry 😔 1.4k words.

Part 1. Part 2.

When Ghost gets progressively murderous, glaring hard, who needs to defuse the situation? You, again. 

Someone is getting brutally murdered tonight, you think to yourself as you coolly take another sip from your glass.

When you joined your colleagues for a drink earlier in the evening, you were not counting on Ghost and Soap's presence. Your butt had barely grazed your seat that the scotsman was enthusiastically waving at you from across the bar, turning himself into the center of attention, while his taciturn companion was looking you up and down, dark stare as intense as ever, sizing you up like you were a potential adversary… or prey.

You had given a half smile and a reserved hand motion in return, before refocusing your attention on the people you came with.

You were still mad at Ghost, after all.

The bastard had been toying with you, letting you believe that, maybe, there could be something more between you two. Then you discovered he was fucking around with his blue-eyed Sergeant too.

Not appreciating being just another conquest, you had been keeping your distance from him. 

Until now.

Until the beauty sliding her way to Johnny catches your eye. She's undeniably attractive, and with the confidence to match. Maybe a bit too confident, you gauge as your eyes follow the motion of her hand informally palpating Soap's bicep.

You glance at Ghost, curious of his reaction.

What you find sends a cold shiver down your spine. If looks could kill… the poor thing would be dead several times over. In very gruesome ways.

It's a miracle she doesn’t feel his deadly stare piercing her skull, like he was trying to headshot her unarmed.

He hasn’t budged an inch, but even from afar, you can read the tension in his muscles— the line of his jaw, the strain of his forearm, the clench of his fist. Even with the mask, you can guess the scowl twisting his features.

You swear you can hear his glass of whisky wince under the pressure of his vice-like grip.

That's when you decide to prevent a carnage.

Finishing your drink, and informing your coworkers that you’d be back soon, you make your way to the bothersome couple and their no-less-bothersome third wheel, quickly plotting a plan of attack. How to get her to give up her target without causing— too much of— a scene?

Walking by Ghost before reaching your goal, you hiss at him under your breath: “Behave.”

Sneaking behind Johnny, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, embracing him from behind with a sickly sweet smile for your mark, fingers crossed that he'll play along, or at least keep his big mouth shut.

Chest pressed against his back, and lips close to his ear, you ask out loud:

“Sweetheart, who's your friend?”

Before the forenamed can reply, the woman snaps back, all her smiles and seductive tone gone out the window.

“No, who do you think you are?”

Outch. And to think you're doing all this to preserve her life. Ungrateful much?

You tighten your grip over Soap's possessively, your cordial expression not faltering.

“You should know not to go after taken men.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't see your name anywhere on him.”

So that's how she wants to play this, uh. Time to show her you can beat her at her own game easily.

“Oh, my bad, forgot to mark him before letting him out.”

Your hand leaves Johnny's chest to grab his jaw between thumb and forefinger, with enough strength to turn his face away from you, but not enough to hurt him, and making good use of the newfound access to his throat, you bite.

A strangled little noise escapes him, but you barely pay it any mind as you look up to stare at your opponent defiantly, and the mix of shock and revulsion in the grimace twisting her features tells you you've won. She gets up and takes off with a scoff. She must certainly take you for a freak, but it's a small sacrifice you’re willing to make.

Releasing Soap, you slump by his free side at the booth with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry. Don't be mad at me, that's all I found to make her leave.”

“I don't think ‘mad’ is what he's feeling now, luv.”

You glare at Ghost, irked by how satisfied he sounds. He half-turned your way, one arm leaning on the backrest, one hand squeezing his Sergeant's thigh.

“L.T.”, hisses the latter through gritted teeth, and it sounds like a plea, while absolutely refusing to meet your eyes.

“This is all your fault, you know,” you groan in the culprit's direction.

“S’that so?”

The smugger he sounds, the hotter your blood runs. It's not until you can feel his warm breath on your skin that you realize that, in your anger, you leaned towards him so much— and he returned the favor— that your faces are inches away. You even reflected him without meaning too, seizing Johnny's other thigh to balance yourself, causing the aforenamed to gulp.

“Sure it's not an excuse to drape yourself all over Johnny?”

You've never wanted to strangle someone so badly.

“You're delirious.”

“Gonna have to take responsibility for the state you've put him in.”

“That's bullshit. Johnny, tell him it's—”

Your mouth abruptly close as you take in the Sergeant's flustered state— half-lidded eyes, flushed face and ears, imploring expression.

“Guess I'll just have to demonstrate, then…”

Turning his words into deeds, Simon grabs your hand and directs it towards Soap.

“Nonono, Simonplease—”

In other circumstances, you would have put a stop to this. Set Ghost straight, shield Soap, embody the voice of reason. But…. Your mouth is dry, your skin ablaze, lust the only thing on your mind. It's like Johnny's beseeching whine caused most of your blood to desert your brain and rush South.

And Simon's actions are not helping— quite the opposite.

He guides your hand to his Sergeant's crotch, and the hard-on you find there sweeps away all the doubts you had about him not being into this, nor into you. The contact wrests a hiss from your target, and you look up to find him biting into his fist— a desperate effort to keep quiet. Glistening blue eyes bore into you, and you forget about anyone else's existence until Ghost speaks up again.

“Believe me now?”

The trip back to the base was a blur. One second you were in the bar, engaged in a staring contest, the next the sound of the lock of Ghost's bedroom rings out in the silence.

You barely find your bearings that Soap gets shoved on his back on the bed, and a warm hand on your back makes you land on him right after.

“Oof, what the fuck,” you complain as you rise on your forearms.

Soap isn’t deterred by the manhandling at all— used to it?—, instead lifting his head to nuzzle against you with a happy sigh. That's only then that you realize you somehow fell with your chest right in his face.

You attempt to get up on all four, but Johnny's grabby hands on your ass pinning you against him make it difficult.

“Bloody hell Soap, let me get up.”

He whines in protest at the command but obeys anyway.

You crawl backwards to meet his eyes. Next thing you know, his hand slips behind your neck to notch your mouth with his.

He's panting when you split up. The view makes you chuckle good-naturedly.

“So worked up already. I barely touched you.”

When he attempts to kiss you again, lips brushing yours, you recoil and perch on his lap.

You tug at his shirt and he sits up straight without needing to be asked twice.

“Let me look at you.”

Cradling his face, you stroke his bottom lip with your thumb as you contemplate him, taking in his dilated pupils and disheveled mohawk.

Enjoying his obedience as much as his eagerness, you let him remove your top, grope your chest and suck at your nipples.

Lost in his ministrations, you would have almost forgotten about his lieutenant's presence until a gloved hand slides from your hip to cup your crotch, and a warm torso presses against your back. You turn your head to get a look at him but he objects to it.

“Don't mind me, love. Focus on Johnny, yeah? Got the poor thing all pent up.”

The above-named openly moans at that, and you make a mental note— “likes when we talk about him like he's not there.”

There's a gap between Ghost's words and actions though, and it becomes incredibly hard to concentrate on Johnny when he slips his hand inside your pants to tease you with his fingers while kissing your neck. Of course he's doing this on purpose, the smug bastard. The night promises to be long.

[janiehellion]

Falling Deep

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl Dixon was a quiet but curious young man—shy, inexperienced, and way more innocent than you’d expect. It was just you, him, and... a vibrator.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: VIRGIN!DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / LANGUAGE / ORAL FIXATION / CUNNILINGUS / SEX TOYS / DRUGS & ALCOHOL / NON-CON ELEMENTS

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.925

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: PRE-APOCALYPSE—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @dixongrimesgirl

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Thank you for your patience! I know it’s been a long wait, and I can only hope it was worth it. This might not be exactly what you had in mind when you sent in the request, but I hope you enjoy it.

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

The Chattahoochee was a whole different level of disgusting, even for a bar so close to the deep woods of Georgia. Low ceilings, broken lights, and the smell of piss and beer were present in every corner. Regulars stumbled in every night and day, a lot of them already drunk or high, but most of them?

Both.

It was the kind of place that was sticky no matter how much bleach you poured on it and where you could smell the bad life decisions coming from a mile away.

You worked behind the bar, pouring shots of moonshine and avoiding the greedy touches of men like it was just another part of the job. Which, in a place like this, it practically was. Located in the heart of the most godforsaken area of Georgia, it was the perfect place for the kind of people you’d rather not run into at any time.

Safe to say, Merle Dixon had been hitting on you since day one, coming at you with even worse pickup lines while high on who knows what. He'd lean over the counter, smirking, smelling like alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat. "Hey, sugar tits, gimme 'nother," he’d laugh, putting a half-torn dollar on the bar like it was supposed to impress you.

"Watch the damn language, Dixon, or that’ll be your last drink for tonight," you’d answer, not even looking up as you poured him another shot.

"Hey, c'mon now," he’d answer you, "don't be like that. Ya know ya wanna gimme a shot at somethin’ else, don't ya?" He'd grin further, which seemed more lustful than charming, his eyes staring at your tits like they belonged there at all times.

You'd roll your eyes and shove the glass across the bar with a little more force than necessary. "In your damn dreams, Dixon. And keep your damn eyes up here, or I’m gonna rip ‘em outta your damn skull," you’d warn, but not entirely without sarcasm. It wasn’t the first time he behaved like that, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

Then there was Daryl, his little brother, always standing or sitting nearby, almost like a shadow, or rather, like someone who didn't belong in a place like that. He wasn’t the type to come up and throw a pickup line at you; hell, he barely spoke at all. Just stood back while Merle tried to flirt with you, as if he was embarrassed to even be there.

You’d catch Daryl looking at you with these sideways glances, his arms crossed over his chest like he was waiting for whatever bullshit his brother might do next. Or maybe he was scared, and he just had no clue what to do with a girl who would throw a bottle at someone's head and talk filthier than any man in the bar.

One night, Merle was high on meth that had his pupils blown wide, and he was drunk as always. "Y'know, darlin'," he slurred, leaning far over the bar, "I could make your night real fuckin' interestin’. Got a little somethin' else with me that’ll loosen ya up for some fun." He took out a tiny baggie—powder—white and unmistakable.

"Fuck off, Merle," you said with a smirk. "Go snort that shit somewhere else, where I don’t have to watch your annoying ass. Ain't your damn babysitter." You were used to it, but he was starting to piss you off more than usual. "And don’t even think about offering it to anyone else inside this hellhole. Last thing I need is you getting the whole damn bar high. Do that outside, with those who are probably shitting all over themselves right now."

Meanwhile, Daryl was sitting on a stool nearby, again, his eyes looking from you to his brother. You couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable he looked, the way he watched Merle and every other person around. There was always something different about him—he was quieter, more... soft. The kind of guy who stood back and kept his head down.

"Leave 'er 'lone, Merle," Daryl mumbled, more to himself than to his brother. But he seemed to be sick of the whole scene. Not that Merle ever listened, or would ever listen to him.

No, Merle just rolled his eyes before shoving the baggie back into his pocket, not even looking in the direction of his brother, keeping his focus only on you... and your tits. "Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just tryin’ to show ya a good time for once." He grabbed his drink and stumbled off, probably to piss in a bush outside, and you were left with Daryl, who still just sat there.

Some time later, you grabbed a dirty rag and started wiping the bar down, side-eyeing him. "You gonna say somethin’, or just keep sittin' there?" You teased, soon throwing the rag under the counter and pouring him another drink.

He shrugged, looking away, clearly not sure what to do with himself. "Ain’t like I could stop him if he tried anythin’," he mumbled, looking down into his glass.

"If he tried, he'd go home without his dick. Not that it'd make much of a difference for him," you said back, smirking at him and trying to get him to loosen up a bit. "You come here just to watch me shut him down every night?"

It was a half-serious question, but you knew the answer. Daryl wasn’t like the other assholes—he didn’t hit on you, didn’t try to grab your ass or tits when you passed by, and never once called you some stupid nickname like sugar tits.

"I… jus' end up 'ere," he said awkwardly, his fingers tapping down on the counter. "Ain’t got much else to do."

"Well, at least you’re not tryin’ to snort coke off my tits or ass," you answered, making him go red in the face.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat, and you couldn’t help but find it kind of adorable.

"You know, since you come here enough, Dixon 2.0," you continued, "might as well help me close up sometime and throw the rest of these assholes outta here. Would get you a drink on the house."

It was just a passing suggestion, a simple idea, but his eyes looked up, like he was considering it, and for once, he actually looked into yours. Not in that drooling, perverted way his older brother did, but with curiosity. "Maybe," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dunno."

"You know what? Just think about it."

And so, the routine went on. Merle would walk in, and Daryl would sit nearby, quietly sipping his own drink while keeping an eye on his brother. And secretly, on you.

Tonight, though? Tonight was different. Somehow, you’d gotten him here, in your home, alone, without Merle, who was probably stinking of booze and piss all over again somewhere. His brother must have gotten his hands on something strong, or whatever it was, it gave you the perfect excuse.

You’d leaned in close while Daryl was mumbling about his brother and told him he should come over; maybe help you with something, and you told him it was important. You hadn’t even needed to lie all that much—he’d just nodded, eyes wide and nervous, and here he was, following you home like a little boy.

When he got to your place, he just stood there, all tense, and moving from one foot to the other like he didn’t know where to put himself. And you—well, you liked watching him squirm and being nervous, knowing well you were the one making him feel like that.

Daryl wasn’t even in the door for five seconds before you threw your bag on the floor, walking inside without saying anything else. No pretenses, no "make yourself at home." You didn’t bother with shit like that. If he was here, he was here on your terms, and you weren’t about to treat him like a guest.

"C’mon in," you said, standing next to the door to finally close it.

You saw him gulp, eyes looking around like he was searching for a quick exit he could use just in case, but finding nothing but trouble. So he nodded, stepping in, his shoulders hunched as he stood there, awkward as hell. Every inch of him screamed that he was nervous, but he didn’t run, not yet. You liked that about him. Quiet, sure, but still stubborn.

Meanwhile, your place was kind of a mess, clothes lying around, bottles on the tables—some empty, some half-full. A few were left over from last week, but hell, you weren’t cleaning for anybody, especially not for him. Daryl didn’t seem to mind, though; if anything, he looked like he was trying hard not to stare around too much, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, his face all red once more, while you kicked off those awful heels that made your feet ache.

"Go on and sit down in my room," you said over your shoulder as you turned around, smirking as you heard his quiet huff. "I'm gonna get outta these damn clothes and put on something more comfortable."

"'Kay," he muttered and nodded again, sounding like he’d swallowed his own tongue.

Once in the bathroom, you pulled off the way too tight top and short skirt in the bathroom, letting yourself breathe for once. That outfit was a real curse; your bra always felt as if it was pushing your tits all the way up to your chin, but it kept the tips flowing, so you kept wearing those clothes.

But tonight? You’d rather die than let Daryl see you in it for too long. Poor boy was already chewing the inside of his mouth and choking on his own words like he might say the wrong thing and die on the spot.

But what you didn't know was that the second you went away to change your clothes, Daryl’s hands started twitching, like his body was on alert between curiosity and unease. A few of your clothes were tossed across the bed, smelling like that bar you worked at—smoke, sweat, and alcohol. It all felt like a place he shouldn’t be at, but here he was, sitting down on your bed and touching your clothes to shove them aside.

He told himself he wasn’t snooping, just trying to figure you out as he sat there nervously. Hell, you were already a mystery to him—a tough girl working in a bar where skirts and shorts barely covered what they ought to and heels high enough to bring any man to his knees.

So here he was, and his mind started running wild, wondering if every woman’s place was like this—half-dirty, with clothes tossed around, magazines piled up, and so much more.

Then his eyes landed on a big box sitting half-shoved under your bed, an open corner poking out like it had been forgotten as his foot bumped against it. He should’ve left it alone, but there was that itch, like he couldn’t look away. Daryl crouched down, sitting down on the floor, his fingers fumbling with the top until it opened up. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he looked inside.

It was filled with... things. Smooth, soft, strange-looking things in different shapes and colors, each one making him more confused than the last.

"What's this stuff?" He whispered, eyes squinting as he picked up a small pink thing with a rounded end. It fit in his hand, smooth but with some weight to it. "This for her... work?" He mumbled, rolling it over in his hand like it might magically turn into something he recognized. Maybe it was a tool, or even one of those weird bar gadgets he didn’t know about.

Another catch of something sparkly and soft shoved down in there made his heart beat faster, and before he knew it, he was pulling out more—the things looking weirder by the second. There was a wand-looking thing, and he held it like it might explode, wondering what the hell you were doing with all this.

"Drugs? Gotta be for drugs," he muttered, frowning as he inspected the box. Could be some kind of injector, maybe? He knew about that stuff—the guys that Merle met sometimes, passing around different things for the good times. But nothing here made sense, and there wasn't any instruction manual in sight.

He looked around like you’d come back any second and catch him, heat burning inside of him as he thought about what this meant. Were you hiding something? Was it… Was it for some kind of secret thing you did when no one was around?

"Damn it, what’re ya up to?" He said, biting his lip, his hand brushing over the surface of the smooth, strange thing, feeling his pulse race at the thought that you did know exactly what these were for.

And yet he didn’t. Not a damn clue.

"Hell’s this?"

He felt a cord between his fingers, pulling it slightly, as if tugging on it might magically make it make sense. Maybe it was for listening to music? But it had no sound, and no little earbuds or anything that he could see.

Setting that one down, he picked up another—an oblong thing with ridges along one side. It looked almost like a flashlight, but there was nowhere for the light to shine from. He pressed his thumb over it, turning it this way and that, but nothing happened.

"What the hell?" It had to be for something specific. You wouldn’t just have random stuff lying around like this for no reason, would you?

Then he found another, rounder one, with a strange little button on the side. He pressed it, flinching a bit when it buzzed all of a sudden. The damn thing nearly jumped out of his hand, and he held it tight to stop the vibrations.

"Damn thing’s possessed," he nearly yelled, feeling his cheeks burn. It felt... weird. Too weird.

And you? You had barely slipped into the bathroom, taking off your work clothes and enjoying the idea of how Daryl would squirm alone for a moment in your bedroom. The way he’d stumbled his way in earlier, not wanting to make eye contact like he didn’t know what to do with his own hands? It was almost way too easy to tease him.

And there he was, practically glowing red, sitting next to the box you kept under the bed. A simple big box—hell, he was behaving so cautiously, like he’d just discovered a bomb or a dead body. But what really caught you was the thing in his hand. A vibrator.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin’ me," you whispered, loud enough for him to hear. His head moved up, eyes wide as if he’d just been caught robbing a bank.

"Shit!" The vibrator fell out of his hand, hitting the floor, but that was only the start; the thing started buzzing further—vibrating across the floor and right toward your feet. Daryl didn’t move; he didn’t even reach for it. He just sat there, staring at the buzzing vibrator like it was going to bite him.

"Gonna tell me what you’re doin’ with my stuff?" You asked, half-amused, half-teasing, waiting to see what half-assed excuse he’d come up with, as you leaned against the door frame. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out at first.

"I… uh—" he stammered, swallowing loudly, his hands fidgeting like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. "I thought… I mean—thought it was, like, stuff for..." His voice trailed off, eyes looking to the ground, too ashamed to meet yours.

"Yeah? Stuff for what?" You pressed further, stepping forward, taking the vibrator and turning it off, stopping the noise but not the look of pure mortification on his face.

"I… thought it might be, y'know... Maybe it was, uh, y’know, things for... for bar stuff, or somethin’. Yer work." His voice was quiet, like he might get in trouble just for saying it out loud.

"For work?" You laughed and crouched down to sit next to him. "Yeah, Daryl, because every bartender needs a vibrator in her kit. So… You wanna tell me why you’re snooping, or am I just supposed to guess?"

You reached over, brushing a hand along the edge of your toy box, taking in the way his eyes tried to look at each item inside. Poor boy had no clue what half of it was for, but he looked at everything like it might burn him.

"Am sorry! I wasn’t… Jus'… waitin’ on ya an' got curious, I guess," he murmured. "Didn’t mean nothin’ by it."

You leaned in closer, enough that he could probably feel your breath on his face. "Curious, huh?" You asked, eyeing the way his shoulders tensed up. "You don't know what that stuff is?"

"Uh…" He blinked, looking between you and the vibrator like it might suddenly start buzzing again. "Not… really. No."

"Oh, you really don’t?" You pretended to be surprised. "It’s a toy, Dixon. A fun toy. For women. And men sometimes as well."

"That for real?" He asked, voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

"As real as it gets, sweetheart. And judging by that look on your face, I’d bet you don’t have much experience with this sorta things." You raised an eyebrow, daring him to admit it.

He swallowed hard, his eyes dropping back to the floor. "Ain’t never… really..." He trailed off, his whole face full of embarrassment.

"Never what?" You asked, leaning in so close you could smell the cigarettes and sweat on him, and somehow, it drove you wild. "Fucked a woman? Or even fucked yourself, huh?"

"I—" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, a sound that told you everything you needed to know. "I don’t… don’t really know… how… t'do any of that."

"Oh, honey." You leaned back a little. "You look like you’re about ready to pass out."

Daryl trembled, trying to look anywhere but at you, his whole face burning. "I—I jus'… I dunno what to do with... all that," he continued, motioning awkwardly toward the box.

You smirked, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. "Guess no one’s shown you how a woman uses one of these before, huh?" You watched his reaction, loving every little deep breath he took and every embarrassed flinch.

"N-no… But what if... maybe they could've been... for, uh, drugs?" His face somehow went even more red, and he looked ready to sink into the floor.

"Drugs? What, you think I’m hiding some kind of dealer setup in my own bedroom? And especially right under my damn bed?" You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Trust me, they’ll get you high, alright—but not the way you’re thinkin’."

The embarrassment on his face was almost painful to watch as he shifted on the ground. "Like I said, I—I don't... Ain’t never done stuff like that before, okay? I—I mean, I done that with myself... sometimes. But not really... okay?"

You smiled, letting your fingers move over his, watching as his breath stopped, his eyes looking up to meet yours for a desperate second. "Well," you murmured, "maybe I could show you a thing or two. If you’re up for it, that is."

Daryl swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he glanced between you and the box again. He indeed looked like he was about to pass out, but he seemed curious—curious in a way that he couldn’t quite hide.

"Oh, c'mon, I know you want to," you whispered, clicking your tongue, standing up, and taking off your shirt slowly. His eyes looked up fast, staring at you, and he shifted on the spot, pressing his thighs together. That’s when you noticed the growing bulge in his pants—it was more than obvious he was already hard as a rock.

"Damn, Dixon," you chuckled, "you’ve got a real problem, don’t you?" You let your shirt fall down to the floor. "Hey, don’t just sit there looking lost—c’mon, no way you're that scared of undressing a woman!"

He stammered something, some half-strangled "n-no," his hands gripping his own thighs like he had to hold himself back from reaching for you. That only spurred you on, raising your brows as you grabbed him to stand up and guiding his trembling hands to the hem of your pants.

"Well, here’s your chance," you smirked, waiting for him to open the button. You watched his fingers fumble with it, shaking as he pulled down the zipper, and then, when he managed to pull your pants down over your hips along with your panties, his eyes widened like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

"Keep goin’, don't be shy," you whispered, guiding his fingers down your thighs until your clothes hit the floor.

He just stood there, staring, mouth opening like he wanted to say something but didn’t have the slightest clue what to do next. You leaned in close, eyes locked on his, before you knelt down again and took the vibrator out of the box once more, pressing the button and letting it hum.

His eyes shot to the toy, watching with pure terror and fascination, and when you pressed it into his hand again, he held it like some foreign, sacred object he was too scared to break.

"Here," you mumbled, laying down onto the bed, legs spread just enough to give him a view he couldn’t tear himself away from even if he tried, before you pulled him next to you and guided his hand between your legs, pressing the vibrator to your thigh and dragging it higher. "Just like that, Daryl. Feels interesting, doesn’t it?"

Daryl could barely breathe, staring down as if hypnotized, the muscles in his whole body tensing up. When you moved his hand to press the vibrator against your pussy, you felt him stiffen, his other hand gripping his thigh to stop himself from trembling. The toy was vibrating against you, and you let out a quiet, satisfied sigh, glancing up just in time to see the way his eyes stayed on you, watching every little twitch and shiver of your body.

"I bet you’re a quick learner," you teased, reaching down to guide his hand again, moving it with the toy so it hit just right, and damn, if it didn’t feel good. His mouth fell open a little, and he sucked in a breath when you suddenly moaned, pressing yourself harder against the vibrator. His hand moved a bit awkwardly, like he didn’t quite know if he was supposed to be touching you this way, but the look in his eyes said he wanted to keep going more than anything.

You let out another moan, a little louder this time, just to see the way he reacted. His grip on the toy tightened, and you didn’t miss the way he was fighting with himself, clearly struggling to keep himself in check as his cock pressed harder against his pants, his breath coming out faster and shorter.

"Poor thing," you whispered, pulling his hand away for a moment, just to watch him struggle. "Bet you’ve never been this hard, huh?" Daryl's eyes looked at you, wide and mortified, like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. But the look he gave you—so desperate, so needy—only made you want to push him further.

"You wanna see what this thing can do to me?" You asked, not giving him time to answer as you pressed the vibrator into his hand again and guided it back between your legs. "Just keep it steady, like that. Right there." You rocked your hips against it, letting out a shaky breath as the lust built itself up inside of you, still watching as he clung to every little sound that left your lips.

Daryl's eyes were glued to you, his mouth open, and you noticed the way he kept moving his hips, trying to get rid of his hard-on. But no matter how much he squirmed, it wasn’t enough. He was near leaking through his pants by now, his cock being so hard he couldn’t think straight, and the sight of you practically coming undone in front of him had him on the edge himself.

"Feels good, doesn’t it, Dixon? But... don't you want to feel that too?" You taunted, moving your fingers along his wrist, pushing him to press harder and the toy just a tiny bit into you, wanting to let him feel every little tremor that wracked your body. He just nodded, lost for words, breathing hard, his eyes moving between your face and the way your hips bucked against his hand.

"Keep going, just like that," you urged, and he obeyed, pressing the vibrator a little harder, his other hand softly brushing against your thigh as if he needed something to hold onto to keep himself from falling apart. His face was so close now, so flushed, eyes wide with need, lips parted as he struggled to keep his breathing steady.

"Y’know, Daryl," you moaned, "you’re doing a hell of a job for someone who’s never touched a woman before, not even with toys." His face burned, but he kept going, kept pressing that toy against your pussy, completely mesmerized by the way you reacted.

"You like watching me, don’t you?" You murmured, letting out another moan that left him swallowing hard. "Don’t think I haven’t noticed... that you can’t keep your eyes off me and how damn hard you are."

He tried to come up with a response, something about "I... I didn’t mean to..." but his words trailed off, and he was just there, helpless, utterly at your mercy, his hand tightening on the toy as you let out one last moan that left him breathless and staring, before you snatched the vibrator from him and clicked it off.

The little tremor it left in his hand was nothing compared to the way he stared at you now, still holding onto that last bit of control.

"Think you can do it without help?" You asked, grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand to your pussy and to make him feel how wet you were, his fingers twitching as they moved along your folds. Daryl nodded but was holding on for dear life and trying not to slip.

"I... I dunno," he mumbled, eyes glued to your pussy.

"Oh, for the love of... here," you growled, placing your hand over his, guiding his touch lower, rougher, until you dragged his fingers exactly where you wanted them. But Daryl was a mess, barely holding himself together, his other hand still clamped over that hard bulge in his pants as he lay there beside you.

"Now, watch closely," you instructed, pressing his fingers just the way you liked it. "Doesn’t take much, does it?" You smiled, letting your free hand move down his chest, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. "Bet you’d come just feeling me touch you."

He whimpered, the outline of his cock pulsing through his pants, a wet spot already forming itself. It didn’t take much to notice the hesitation in his every move, making him so easy to toy with.

You leaned back a little, pushing your tits forward. "Go on and position yourself over me," you dared, and as soon as he did, you lifted his other hand from his bulge to your tits, watching as he sucked in a breath, his hand shaking as if he were holding something he had no right to touch. "Ever felt these before?"

Daryl shook his head, still wide-eyed, his eyes looking into yours for a second before dropping back down, like he was afraid to look too long.

"Then make the most of it." You reached down, pressing his other hand harder against you. "I want you to use that mouth of yours now," you smirked, pushing him down to press his lips against your nipples. His breath was warm and shaky, and he hesitated, his mouth just an inch away from you. You raised an eyebrow, daring him, and after a long, deep breath, he finally leaned in.

"That's a good boy," you praised, your fingers running through his hair, feeling him shiver under your touch. He was so damn easy to play with, each little whimper and moan only turning you on more, urging him to suck and lick, his tongue slow but eager, desperate for more.

"Gently," you ordered, glancing down to see him lose himself, his hands now touching you like he didn’t want to let go. The poor guy was panting, his eyes squeezed shut as he sucked and kissed your nipple, as if the sight alone would push him over the edge.

You soon moved your hand down, feeling the outline of his cock through his pants, feeling him flinch, his breath stopping as you gave him just a bit of what he wanted. "This what you want, Daryl?" You whispered, teasing him and squeezing his shaft just enough to make him groan, his hips bucking, desperate for more. "You do, don't you? But now, I want you to eat me out."

Daryl couldn’t even get out a response, his mouth still on your nipple, but the look in his eyes told you everything.

"Pathetic, but also really cute," you laughed, unzipping his pants just enough to reach inside, your fingers wrapping around his cock and making him gasp, his whole body tensing as you squeezed him. He was thick, hard, already wet from the pre-cum that leaked from his tip, and the way he moaned, quite high, only made you want to drag it out and tease him until he was begging to come.

As you quickly positioned yourself over his face, you could see how he was a nervous wreck the moment your ass hovered above him. "Oh, please, don’t just lay there. Get to work," you teased, lowering yourself down, your pussy brushing against his lips.

When he finally opened his mouth, it was like you flipped a switch. The moment your folds hit his tongue, he moaned, the sound muffled against you. It sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but grind against his face, pushing him harder against you.

"God, you’re a natural," you gasped, encouraging him with your hips. "Just like that, baby. Don’t be shy; use your tongue."

Daryl’s mouth worked hesitantly at first, but the more you ground down, the more confident he became. His face was buried in your pussy, the taste of you driving him wild as he licked and sucked, trying to figure out what made you feel good, and the way he looked up at you, eyes full of wonder and lust, only made you want to ride his face harder.

"Yeah, keep going," you panted, feeling your legs tremble as he finally got into a rhythm. "Good boy, just like that," you moaned, feeling the tension building inside you. He was so focused, so eager to please, and the way he hungrily licked and sucked made you see stars.

"Don’t stop, Daryl. I’m so close," you urged. "Yeah, that’s it," you moaned, pushing your hips down even harder. "Don’t you dare stop. Just like that—yes!"

The way he held your thighs, trying to hold you against him, and the way he whimpered against you—those sweet little sounds pushed you right over. "I’m cumming! Fuck!"

Your body tensed, and you ground down harder again, shaking and feeling him groan against your dripping pussy as you let go and came, completely lost in the moment.

You felt him drink it all in, and you knew he was just as lost as you were. The second you pushed yourself off his face and watched him, face red and lips parted, you could tell Daryl had no idea what to do with himself. Wide-eyed and panting, he lay there as if you’d just dragged him straight into some fever dream he wasn’t even ready for. He seemed so helpless as he tried to piece together the storm of feelings that’d just hit him.

"Still with me, Daryl?" You asked, letting your weight push him further into the bed. His eyes looked down between your legs, then looked away, like he didn’t have the courage to watch.

"Y-yeah…"

He shuddered, that helpless little whine slipping out as you leaned down, your mouth right over his. He was as stiff as a board beneath you, looking both horrified and desperately curious at the same time.

"Think you can handle more of this?" You whispered, one hand moving down and wrapping around his cock as you took it fully out of his pants.

"W-wait," he stammered, trying to close his legs in a last attempt to get some space, but you only held him tighter, giving his cock a slow, teasing stroke. It twitched in your hand, leaking all over your fingers like he couldn’t stop himself.

"Sweetie, look at you," you smiled, swirling a finger over the tip, just to watch him jerk, hips lifting up like he was begging. "So needy aren't we?"

Daryl let out another whimper, his face going beet-red, those shy eyes looking away once more as though if he didn’t look at you, he’d somehow be less mortified.

"Feels so good, huh?"

His whole body was practically trembling with need, and he was leaking—a lot. His cock throbbed in your hand, pre-cum dripping so much it smeared along your fingers.

"Damn, Daryl," you whispered, smirking as your fingers now teased along the underside of his cock. "Didn’t know you’d be this easy, really."

You soon leaned down, your mouth just over his cock; the slightest lick of your tongue along his tip pushed another bit of pre-cum out, and you couldn’t help but laugh, loving every bit of his need.

"Baby, look at you, leaking everywhere," you teased again, wiping the tip with your thumb before bringing it to your lips, licking off the taste. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, you pulled back slightly before leaning up to kiss him, letting him taste himself on your lips.

It made him moan again, his hands reaching out to grip your body as if needing to ground himself. "P-please…" He whispered, but you didn’t give in just yet.

Instead, you reached down, grabbing your vibrator again. You saw the way his eyes narrowed, with pure nervousness all over his face, as you suddenly pressed the toy to his cock, starting at the lowest setting. The buzzing made him gasp, his hips jerking involuntarily against you as you dragged the vibrator along his shaft, right along that sensitive spot just under the head. Every time it brushed up and down, he leaked more against your hand, only making it messier.

"Oh s-shit…" He whimpered, sounding utterly wrecked.

With a smirk, you leaned back and held up the vibrator for him to see, his eyes following it, dazed, and lips parted. "I think that’s enough; otherwise you might explode on the spot," you said, watching his expression drop just slightly as he looked at you switching it off and tossing it back into your toy box all of a sudden.

Leaning up, you gave his lips a slow, lazy kiss, feeling him melt against you, even more needy when you pulled away and slipped back down. And damn if he didn’t start leaking more, a fresh drop of slick pre-cum glistening right there, just begging to be tasted.

"How sweet you are, Daryl," you murmured, slowly moving your tongue along the underside of his cock, not missing the way his hips jerked up instinctively, even though he didn't seem to understand why. One gentle lick. That’s all it took for him to be close again, and he was helpless against it.

"Just relax and enjoy it," you continued, letting your tongue move along the tip of his cock and the desperate little gasp of his driving you wild as he grabbed the sheets, practically sobbing as he tried to hold back.

You wrapped your lips around just the head, barely enough to count as anything. But to him? It was like fireworks going off.

"N-no, I—oh fuck, I can’t—" He breathed out as his head fell back, his body shivering under you.

And when you took him just that tiny bit deeper, that was it—he lost it. Hard. He tried to hold it, tried to push you back even, one hand weakly pressing against your head, but he was already too far gone. The orgasm tore through Daryl, overpowering him completely.

His whole body stiffened, a helpless cry coming from his throat as he finally lost it, filling your mouth with his cum as he came. Before he even had time to process it, you’d swallowed every last drop from his throbbing cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you looked back up at him.

He was still shaking, his mind clearly blown, and when he finally managed to look at you, it was with that same wide-eyed shock.

Daryl just lay there, still in shock, his body trembling as reality sank in. "D-did ya really jus'—" His voice cracked with disbelief all over his face as he tried to wrap his head around what just happened.

You smirked at him, leaning in close, your lips moving softly against his in a teasing kiss. "What’s the matter, sweet boy? Never had someone swallow your cum before?"

He quickly shook his head. "I—I thought ya might get pregnan' or somethin'!" He stammered in embarrassment, his mind racing with the wildest thoughts.

"Oh, cutie. You really think it’s that easy? I'm sorry, but that's not how it works," you laughed, nudging his arm, enjoying the way his shoulders tensed up like he was trying to hide from you. "What? Can’t even look me in the eye after that?"

He opened his mouth, but whatever words he thought he might stammer out just died right there, and his hand went up to scratch the back of his neck.

"I... I didn’ mean to..." he finally managed to say, his voice cracking in the middle, his face still as red as a tomato.

You raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t mean to what? Coming in record time?" You let out a sarcastic scoff, and he near cried, ducking his head as though it would save him.

"I-I dunno, I thought... I jus', I mean—" he stumbled over each word. "Jus' ain’t never been with... y’know, anyone... like that."

"No kidding," you replied dryly, watching him shrink even smaller, if that was possible. "Anyone coulda guessed that, by the way, you freaked the hell out." He winced at your words, but hell, it just made him look all the more adorable, laying there.

When you placed a hand on his thigh, he went stiff as a board all over. "Easy, Daryl," you murmured. "No one’s laughing at you... much."

"I-I’m... sorry," he mumbled again.

"Sorry?" You scoffed, tilting his chin up to force his eyes to look at you. "For what? That you came too soon, or that you actually loved it?"

He tried to look away, but your fingers held him in place. "Both, I reckon," he answered, his voice shaking. It was like he thought he’d done something wrong, like he needed to apologize for being human.

"Nothing wrong with it, Dixon. Means I sure as hell did it right." You laughed, running a thumb over his jawline as he stared back at you.

"Bet that head of yours is just spinning right now, ain’t it?" You said, half-mocking. "Poor, sweet Daryl, don’t know what to do with himself now."

It was easy to see what he still needed—what he wanted, even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it. You didn’t have to guess, though. He was desperate for something more, desperate for you to just tell him what to do. It was obvious that he had no experience with women or anything like this, but it didn’t matter to you. If anything, it just made it better. You wanted him nervous.

"Hey," you said softly. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed. Not at all." You could see that he wanted to apologize again, wanting to make up for how pathetic he felt.

"Tell you what," you said, kissing his cheek. "You’ve got a lot to learn, Daryl Dixon. But I think you’re gonna like it. You just need to stop worrying." His hands moved to your waist, but they were hesitant, unsure. "And me? Well, I’m not here to judge you."

You took his hands and placed them back on your body, guiding him again. This time, he didn’t hesitate much, but it seemed as if he was trying to copy the way you had guided him earlier, trying to find some way to make up for what had happened. But that, for now, was enough.

"Don’t worry," you said, grinning at him, "I’m going to teach you."

Because you would. And he had no choice. Maybe that was what you liked most. The way Daryl needed you now, the way he didn’t even know what he wanted, but he was willing to follow you with your help along the way.

And he was only going to fall deeper.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema — (also tagging @darylsdelts as requested)

[lokisgoodgirl]

Illusion & Truth: The Rite (V)

Masterlist for The Rite is HERE My Regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: (5) Loki does some soul searching, he lets you into a secret, and shit goes down at the pre-Rite feast. (w/c 5.4k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Plot, shocker. Asgardians behaving badly. Sick child (not serious). Petty bitch behaviour. Lagertha being an MVP. A/N: This is the longest chapter of the mini-series. Please bear with me. You'll see why.🥰 lies.

Loki hadn’t left his chambers for the rest of the afternoon. That woman from the Circle-Club: Freja, Mellandra…something like that, had come by seeking to ‘soothe’ what ailed him.

Self-serving, of course.

But thoughts swirled in his head that not even Freja/Mellandra’s silken heat sheathing his sword could quieten. And with that realisation, Loki had another one about you which settled in his stomach like a stone.

I don’t want anyone else. No one but her.

Somehow, you needed to fall in love with him in two moons – three if he counted the night of The Rite itself. Or at least, the stirrings of love which went beyond simple lust or pure reverence. If you knew that...it would push you away. Why wouldn't it? Asgardian royals had stacked the decks for millennia; beginning courtships of likely matches for marriage from a young age – and the Rite was a foregone conclusion: part of the wheel. It was too important, and there were no second chances.

But you fucked it up. If he didn’t fulfil the Rite, then he’d be forever out of the succession. And if he did succeed, and you fell in love with him, he’d have to break your heart as swiftly as he’d cheated his way to it. Loki couldn’t love – not like the others. He’d accepted that a long time ago - he'd been told many times.

He brought a hand cleanly against a goblet on the desk and sent it crashing to the wall. Thick cracks spread from the impact. He buried his face in his palms, stifling a scream. Perhaps his brother was right; perhaps Fandral was the better choice after all. There was no hope for your feelings to blossom given the boorish, wanton way he’d conducted himself. The Circle-Club, Norns. What must she think.

The door creaked open. “More wine, my Prince?” the chambermaid said. She was wearing the low-cut robes tonight, holding the flask beneath the curve of her breasts. She looked up at him through lined lashes, a dark eyebrow rising. She didn’t seem concerned at his distress – not one bit. Just wanted to ride him or suck him off or let him bend her over the balcony: not that he could blame her. “No,” he said abruptly. Once she’d left, he was sure the serving groom wouldn’t be far behind – offering his services. They had a system, he was certain of it. If one was declined, they knew Loki was in the mood for the other. His eyes wandered out the open archway. Daytime bustling of the courtyard below sounded loud to his ears. Suddenly the jug appeared in front of him, tapping onto the table while the tart, sweet scent of wine filled his nostrils. Her hands wound around his neck; breasts pressed between his shoulder blades; her breath hot in his ear.

“Are you sure, my Prince?” she whispered, sucking his earlobe between her teeth. “I’ve missed your highness’s touch, it’s been over a week.” Loki closed his eyes, trying to smother the revulsion at himself. The drinking, the endless sex, the aloofness: that nothing mattered. Perhaps he wanted it to matter – did anyone ever think of that? Even endless pleasure, Loki was finding, grew tiresome when flitting from one instant gratification to the next.

“No…thank you,” he said softly; holding up the flask. She said nothing else, just blinked a few times as he nudged the smooth metal into her hands. She threw concerned glances over her shoulder every few steps as she left, closing the door behind her. Loki slumped into the chair; trying to remember how people who didn’t drink wine and fuck all afternoon passed the time.

And so, until sunrise, he decided to do what he’d avoided for far too long: think.

Loki pulled at his sleeves.

The inferior material so favoured by the common-folk was starting to itch. He lingered on the outskirts of the palace gardens, scanning for you. And soon, there you were – led by Håkon. He was a little shit, but Loki liked him – and he showed promise as an apprentice; a rarity, considering his beginnings. Loki smiled. The face he wore didn’t hold that type of smile so agreeably as his own, but it would do. Håkon nudged you to his level, and Loki saw your eyes widen before meeting his own across the path.

You walked briskly towards him, eyes darting to passers-by. “Loki?!” you hissed. Loki’s smile grew. “The very same, little owl. Does my disguise not please you?” You made a face, and Loki snorted lightly, the rough knuckles that met his lips stifling it. To anyone that looked on him, he was a roughened, reddened stable-hand ilk: the type would garner no second looks except that of the guards searching for escaped jailbirds.

“It’s necessary, I assure you. Even this early in the morning, the markets are busy. I’d rather not attract any unwanted attention.” “I didn’t think it was possible for any attention you received to be unwanted...” Loki’s eyes narrowed. The subsequent smile lit your eyes in the same when it did when you looked on his own face: like the strike of a match. It made his stomach flip. You were wearing a beautiful green day-gown – the same shade as the calla lily growing by the pond.

“I had intended for us to walk around the gardens but…plans have changed. I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “Håkon’s coming too. Although…I fear you may be rather overdressed.” Your face fell. “Håkon’s coming?” “He’s not so bad,” Loki said as the boy wove ahead through the crowd, stealing small pieces of cake from the morning stalls. “Perhaps you may grow to like him.” You cleared your throat, and Loki felt his skin prickle with the words unsaid. He could feel them on the air before your tongue formed them. The obvious question most were too afraid to ask. “Is he your son?” There was no judgement in the question, only curiosity. It was, Loki surmised, a reasonable assumption with the boy’s dark hair and playful tricks – indeed, he often wished the answer was yes. But he replied, “No, merely my apprentice. No illusions, not this time. Upon my honour, such as it is.”

Loki’s fingers flexed by his side, and a rough, woollen cloak unfurled covertly in his grasp. He held it in a bundle towards you. “As beautiful as that gown is,” he said in his gruff, stolen voice, “Best not to attract attention where we’re going.”

“Don’t you want to change my face, too?” you said, and the sparkling mischief in your eyes made blood thud in his ears. “No,” he said, perhaps a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t deny myself, and the people of Asgard, even the shortest glimpse of your skin under this morning light.” You stared at him for a moment before gasping into laughter. Loki frowned. “I’m not laughing at you, Loki…I just…” Your breaths were becoming short, and people were staring. You leant against his shoulder, burying your face against the rough scratch of his grubby tunic. “It’s only…well, they have to see me with you. I can only guess what they’re thinking. I still have a reputation to uphold, you know.” A laugh built in Loki’s chest, shaking in time with your own. You pulled away from his shoulder, smoothing a wiry chunk of crusted, mousy-brown hair behind his ear. “Alright,” he said bashfully. “I didn’t think of that. How about…I change your appearance too – but alter it so that we can see each other for our true selves?” You grinned. “Deal.” Loki could tell the exact moment that the enchantment licked over his skin by the edge of your bottom lip between your teeth. Norns, how he wanted to rip that dress to shreds with his teeth and have you inside the topiary maze.

Beneath the magical mask of rough, woollen clothing – he was wearing casual livery; a green tunic buttoned up to the neck, and tight-fitting buckskin breeches tucked into riding boots. Freshly washed hair tumbled over his shoulders. He could see you, and you could see him – and to anyone else, you were just two, ragged, happy peasants and their thief of an offspring.

Loki’s breath hitched as you reached out a hand. “So…where are we going?” He led you through the market, down side-passages that spread like veins from the centre of Asgard’s township and soon the buildings grew less polished…less gold.

Amber brickwork shifted to craggy, dirt-smoked stone and Loki couldn’t help noticing your face grow more cautious with every step. Eventually, he stopped outside a large wooden door cut into a tall building. Håkon knocked. After a minute, the gap creaked open. “Lagertha?!” you gasped, neck snapping to Loki. Her eyes narrowed. “What says the fox to the crow?” she asked warily, keen gaze shifting between you. Loki rolled his eyes. He could never remember the inane answers to such riddles, no matter how many times she told him. “43, 33, 36,” he said. Lagertha frowned. “What?” He repeated his measurements, and her eyes widened. “Loki?!” she hissed, sticking her head out and casting a furtive look to either side of the empty alley.

She shot out a dainty fist and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him inside. Loki grasped your hand, yanking you after him. The door slammed. Loki crouched to receive her hug; he was always surprised how strong she was. “I didn’t think you’d come, what with the late notice…I didn’t think—” She stopped herself, pulling back and shooting a piercing glare in your direction. “Who’s this?”

“Ah,” Loki said. Before he could say anything else, Lagertha wafted theatrically in front of her nose.

“Borr’s bones, Loki. Lower the glamour, will you? I understand the need for secrecy, but is there any need for the smell?” Loki’s lips rolled together, biting his tongue. Behind him, Håkon laughed. With a flex of his fingers the enchantment burned away to reveal his true form, and yours too. Lagertha’s face softened. “My dear…” she said sweetly, as though she hadn’t been moments away from poking you in the eye. “So nice to see the two of you spending time together. He must trust you, if he brought you here.” You opened your mouth to ask inevitable questions but Loki placed a hand on Lagertha’s back. “Show me. From your note, it seems we have no time to waste.”

Lagertha led him to the open courtyard in the middle of the building. From the outside, it resembled the same crumbling wreck as all the buildings in this district – but inside, it was a palace: all curved edges and bright, warm colours. Cushions littered the floor, a pond in the centre and a fountain spurting shapes with changed on the hour. The lilt of childish laughter twinkled in the air – but then, he saw her. A girl no older than two lay cradled in the arms of a nurse in the corner. Her skin was flushed and splotchy: the areas not afflicted had the pallor of rotted milk. Loki had seen her several times before – and several times he’d wished she would alter her screeches of happiness at a change in the breeze or the spray of the fountain to a decibel lower. But now, the absence of that joyful screech was torturous. He came skidding to a stop, falling to his knees on the cushions. “You should have summoned me sooner,” he said, pressing the back of his hand to the girl’s forehead. She was hot with the scorch of impending death. Lagertha sank to her knees beside him. “You know the rules– only in the direst of circumstances.” “May I?” he asked the nurse, and she shifted. He held the child, her head lolled in his arms, eyelids fluttering. He could see your profile out of the corner of his eye – and for a moment, he regretted ever considering bringing you to this place.

Nothing says romance like the demise of an infant, he scolded himself. He hadn’t thought it would be this bad. But you touched his back, a comforting trail of your fingers down his spine.

Loki pressed a hand to the small chest, closing his eyes. A swell of magic pulsed through his skin; green licking out from his palm. The baby’s eyes shot open in shock, a strangled cry of surprise tearing around the cloisters. Loki held the squirming child steady, palm flush to her skin. Hold on, he willed. Hold on.

Slowly, too slowly, the angry splotches receded. Plumpness began to puff back into her cheeks, and the child’s eyes opened – glossy and bright with sleepy wonder. “Thank the gods,” the nurse breathed, and Lagertha clapped her hands together. “Not the gods,” Lagertha said dryly, “just this one. He’s the only one worth having.” Relief swelled in Loki’s chest as he passed the child to the nurse. “Careful, Lagertha – I’ll have you for treason.” “Not if I have you first,” she replied wryly. They exchanged a knowing smile.

Loki’s nerves didn’t settle until they’d draped into the chairs by the water’s edge. Someone brought tea, and he tried to pour it before realising his fingers were trembling. You took the pot, pouring a cup for Loki, Lagertha, and yourself. “Thank you,” he murmured, and the smile that danced on your lips was like none he’d ever seen before. He looked away quickly, and then heard you ask… “What is this place?”

Lagertha snorted. “An orphanage, of sorts. I help when I can, in between the weaving – and Loki manages to come once a month or so to keep things in check – keep things nice for the children, make sure the pantry is stocked with the meats he smuggles from the palace, bless him.” Loki felt heat creep up his cheeks as she reached across the table, nobbled fingers wrapping around his wrist.

It's now or never, he thought. But in his heart, he knew you had to know. That you could be trusted. He could feel it. “If my father knew it existed…especially under my patronage - he would shut it down, turn them out.” Tea slopped over the side of your cup. “What?!” “He grows suspicious – and there are spies everywhere. Fandral, for instance.” Loki bit back the spit of his name. “If it's discovered before I am confirmed in the line of succession, then I won’t have as much say in what's done if it’s exposed.” “Why would Odin want this taken away?”

Loki’s heart sank as your eyes landed on each small, plump child in turn, older ones around Håkon’s age peering around pillars. There was a dozen spread across the courtyard, and more upstairs in bed. Many, many more. Two girls splashed in the centre of the garden pool, un-phased by their illustrious visitor. He saw the exact moment your keen mind landed on the right question. “Who are they?” you asked quietly. “Bastard sons and daughters of the gods, and of the court. The unwanted; the shame of Asgardian wealth and lust, and selfishness,” Loki heard himself say. Lagertha squeezed his hand. He met her eyes, unspoken words passing between them. She was asking permission, and he granted it. She cleared her throat. “The high and mighty in the palace like to smear this one because he lays it about, no offence intended m’Lord—” “—None taken,” Loki said with a small smile. “—But Loki here, he enjoys his pleasure with people he can take care of, should it be needed. I mean yes, he has the contraceptive magic and all that…but he doesn’t take advantage, not like the others. They pretend goose-fat wouldn’t melt: playing pure and then heading to the taverns and brothels, leaving their seed behind in the bellies of women who have no choice but to give ‘em to us when the lords’ pretend they don’t exist.” Loki couldn’t look at you. He stared at a ripple in the pool, following its progress until it faded to stillness. Suddenly, your hand was at his cheek; your lips pressing to his in a silent, soft understanding. He met your eyes.

“I know what it is to be unwanted,” he admitted – and with horror, he realised his vision was beginning to blur. “I couldn’t let that happen to them.” “He says next year, I’ll have a friend at the palace,” Håkon interrupted cheerfully from across the courtyard, looking up from a plate of sliced cheese. He shot Loki a glare. “Not a girl through,” he added – and beside him, a girl with long blonde hair suspiciously like Thor’s punched him in the arm. “Ow.” Loki smiled. “I can’t add my apprentices too quickly, you understand. One a year usually suffices to evade suspicion – and then afterwards, they travel to Vanaheim to continue their education. But Håkon is staying a little longer…” His eyebrows rose in the boy’s direction, “If he behaves himself.”

Loki met your eyes. There was that look again, the one that made him feel like a nervous virgin and a king at the same time. He straightened as your fingers clasped around his thigh beneath the table. It wasn’t a gesture of lust, he was sure – but his groin ached just the same. “We should go,” he said, and your face fell. Around them, childish wails of discontent grew loud and soon small hands were pawing at his legs - little bodies jostling for a place on his lap and wrapping their chubby arms about his neck. Your laughter was music above the fray. “We should stay,” you said sternly over the excitement – and Loki grinned through a veil of small limbs and wide smiles. “They’ve clearly missed you.” “You don’t mind?” His heart fizzed as you rested a fist beneath your chin. “Not a bit,” you said, as a boy with auburn ringlets crawled onto your knees, smudging the green silk with butter-greased fingers. And what’s more, Loki realised as you greeted the boy with a hug, she means it.

When you returned to your chambers, the sun was beginning to set.

The most beautiful dress you’d ever seen in your entire life was hanging against the window: shimmering in amber hues slatting across the floor. A deep, rich green: silk that rippled with sparks of gold. A note was pinned to the lapel. ‘Make him erupt in his britches again,’ it said. You snorted. It was signed with a looping, cursive L – and a kiss. You weren’t sure how Lagertha had managed to ensure its delivery between hobbling after three dozen squealing children for nine hours alongside you – but you appreciated it none the less. The fact Loki had told her about events in the orgy-room yesterday made an unexpected warmth blossom in your belly. It was becoming harder not to get attached.

You’d tried not to think too much about tonight: the feast. It made it all a bit…real. A celebration of Loki’s attempt at The Rite – and a celebration of his chosen partner: aka, a chance for the court to get a good look at you.

You sighed, looking in the mirror. I can do this, you thought. For Loki. You frowned. The idea that you’d be doing it for him was new – and the thought seemed to expand inside your skull like dandelion seeds blossoming on a stalk. For Loki. And then, another thought. You’d meant to raise it this morning, but the day’s events had been…distracting. What the fuck was the second part? The one that had him more nervous than he had any right to be? He couldn’t doubt his skills in oral pleasure, surely. He’d only have to look between your legs and you’d explode. It had to be something else: something important. You tried to push it aside as your giggling maid helped you into the dress and fixed your hair. It wasn’t as elaborate as the royals, but it would do. And besides, you weren’t one of them. And you never will be.

When the final clasp was added to your hair, there was a knock at the door. Just one. The maid answered, and from the pitch in her voice you could tell she was flustered. Loki had said he’d meet you outside the feasting hall – Is he here? Your stomach fluttered as you scurried to the entranceway, and immediately grimaced. “Fandral?” He looked up from where one forearm was pressed against the archway, looming over your maid like a lech. If Loki did that, it would be unbearably hot – but Fandral had a way of making even the most potentially erotic poses illicit the same response as hot sick. “The very same,” he drawled, straightening a ruffled cuff. “Loki sent me to fetch you, since we’re all to be such great friends.” “He did?”

“Mmm,” Fandral said. It wasn’t an answer, but you were running late. Maybe he’ll throw me down a well, you thought as you gingerly took his arm and began walking in silence down the corridor. If he tries, I’ll drag him by the balls down with me.

Fandral’s tunic was made of the softest velvet you’d ever felt: a bright, cerulean blue. His fingers clasped over your hand wrapped around his forearm as you walked. “How curious,” he hummed, and your expression hardened, staring ahead for what was coming. “Such soft hands, despite your status. I’ve heard buckling ones own shoes is a terror for callouses.” “You must give me some tips - I’d hate to scratch Loki’s intimate areas with my nasty, commoner callouses.” Fandral yanked you to a stop. There was a flash in his eyes. “Do not call yourself a commoner. It’s an insult to the Prince – as though he would lie with a peasant. You are the lowest rung in the court, and he’s too good for you…but you’re not so low as to be unable to debase yourself further.” “From what I hear, others aren’t so picky as you are,” you muttered, pulling your arm from his grasp, remembering the sweet faces of the children nobody wanted. The shame of the Asgardian court. One of Fandral’s slicked eyebrows rose. “And what does that mean?” Shit. He’s a fucking spy - you’re going to blow the secret, and you’ve only known for a day. You improvised, cracking your neck to the side and painting on a mask of apathy. “You’re arrogant, anyone ever tell you that?” Fandral sneered, the illusion of his upper hand returning. “Consider your proclivity towards our Prince, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes, thankful that the chatter of nobles filing into the feasting hall was growing louder. Looked like there was only one more turn—

“He’s trying to make you fall in love with him.” You stopped, blinking furiously; the crowd visible at the end of the corridor blurring. “Excuse me?”

But before Fandral could respond, a shadow fell over you both. The sight was like smelling salts. Norns, he’d never looked so handsome. Loki’s dark hair was half drawn up to expose the sharp lines of his face; a golden band resting on his head with thin spires like spun, violent sunlight pointed to the ceiling.

His outfit matched your own perfectly: a thick brocade tunic with delicate buckles running up his midsection; green and gold woven with breath-taking perfection. The tunic fell to his mid-thighs, leather trousers tucked into thin boots the same forest green as your dress. His hand slid around your waist, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, Fandral grimaced.

“You look…beautiful,” Loki breathed against your ear, his scent richly spiced, and for a moment it stifled the guilt clawing in your chest. He drew back, shooting Fandral a withering glare. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” As Fandral gave you a last, salty look – Loki’s eyes fell on you again. “Just one more thing,” he said softly, flexing his fingers. A weight grew on your head in time with Loki’s smile; the same crown of sun rays growing towards the ceiling, matching his own. “Tonight is for you,” he said, offering his arm.

“For us,” you replied, hoping it was true.

The first few hours of the feast passed in a blur.

You’d never forget the feeling as you walked arm-in-arm with Prince Loki down the centre of the hall feeling like a queen: nobles cheering, Fandral looking like he had a wedgie, Frigga smiling widely, and Thor…although not quite as much. Odin’s face was like a pruned apple, but what else was new.

Don’t get attached, you reminded yourself again. But it was becoming harder.

You sat beside Loki at the top table, chatting easily as the two of you tucked into honey-glazed boar, potatoes baked in cream, vegetables soaked in the most delicious spices you’d ever tasted.

Every so often, a noble would shuffle in front of you both with a small bow, offering their good luck wishes to the god beside you. “Not required, but appreciated,” Loki said every time. And every time, you stifled a laugh. More than once, you caught Frigga gazing at you out of the corner of your eye. But when your eyes met, hers darted away. That small smile hadn’t left her lips all night.

Loki stood. “It’s far too dull for this time in the evening, time for some dancing…don’t you think?” Thor perked up two seats down from you, his eyes alight and a sticky ring of honey smeared around his mouth, dripping down his chin. “Dancing! Yes, brother.”

Loki smoothed the front of his tunic, waiting for a adequate number of revellers to admire his outfit, before making his way to the band assembling in the corner. You recognised the lute player from yesterday’s orgy – the blindfolded one. Loki’s seat was immediately taken by Fandral, and you rolled your eyes. “What do you want?” you snapped. “The second part of The Rite – I assume he still hasn’t told you.”

Fandral released a whispering chuckle that made your stomach tighten. He hovered by your ear with a smile stretched on his rattish face, golden glitter from his hair falling to the tablecloth. To anyone watching, it might look like he was telling a joke, but there was no humour in his voice.

“He has to make you cum with that pretty mouth of his, yes. But your feelings towards him as he does it will be measured: not lust, or respect as your better…but the deeper sort. It will be impossible to hide it. If you do love him, then afterwards, he’ll discard you like the commoner you imagine yourself to be. And if you don't, which is more likely...let's be honest, you’ll have cost him his place in the succession.” Fandral withdrew, a dazzlingly artificial smile plastered on his face. You opened your mouth and closed it again, heartbeat hard in your throat. “It breaks my heart to see him play you,” he sighed, playing with Loki’s fork. “Just as he will break yours…but alas, it’s how it must be. I expect he’s lavished you with his attention these past days, let you see…allegedly…another side of him?”

“You’re just jealous,” you blurted. It was childish, and frantic.

His eyes narrowed. “It’s no secret I have feelings for the Prince which go beyond mere frippery – I make no waves against it. Loki is magnificent in many ways, but he’s always been a fool. And you will make a fool of him too, when it’s clear you don’t love him; when he is shamed, his status diminished - left forever in his brother’s shadow.”

Your vision swam. “But…why would he…why would he choose me, then? It’s too important, I…” Those plump, hopeful kid’s faces flashed in front of your eyes again. The way he sang to them, and made baby animals burst in living shadows from his fingertips to prance across the courtyard amidst their shrieks of delight. They were in danger. Loki had to secure his place in the succession. This wasn’t about you, not really.

“Fandral,” you said, searching his face, not knowing what you wanted him to say. “Just enjoy yourself tonight.” Fandal smiled, giving a small wave to someone across the room. “I’m sure Loki will come to his senses before the ceremony.” Time seemed to stop as Loki drew you on to the dancefloor, and soon the centre of the hall was a shifting sea of graceful bodies and swirling silk. You’d never wanted anything more than to attend one of these things – you weren’t going to let Fandral ruin it.

Loki’s body was like steel, but he moved like fluid - a liquid grace which twirled and manoeuvred you easily across the floor. His cheek pressed to yours, lips grazing your skin at achingly slow intervals. You wondered if he knew he was doing it. And yet— ‘It breaks my heart to see him play you; just as he will break yours.’ Your hand faltered from Loki’s hold, fumbling the step.

He drew you closer, eyes clouded with concern. The lutes seem very loud all of a sudden. “Loki…” you started. You needed to know – and he needed to choose. There was much at stake, and you didn’t know if you could give him what he needed to come out The Rite with his place in the succession intact.

“May I?” Fandral’s voice shattered the moment.

He was the picture of gentile chivalry, a hand extended with a reverent bow. Loki looked at you, and you suddenly realised the only thing you wanted was more time before the illusion that this could all be real shattered forever.

As your hand left Loki’s, reaching for Fandral’s – you saw the creep of a cruel smirk, and a white glisten on Fandral’s fingers too late. Your breath caught as he lunged. And then, all hel broke loose.

Loki’s body was a wall of muscle ramming between the two of you, smacking Fandral’s arm to the side.

You stumbled backwards, falling into Frigga dancing with some lord from Vanaheim. Grapes went skittering across the floor from the knock-on-carnage; goblets cracking against marble and shrieks as priceless suede shoes were splashed.

Loki was gripping Fandral’s wrist as the blonde looked up wide-eyed, words shaping his lips that came out in a mess of denials and apologies. Between the nonsensical muttering, you heard two words from Fandral’s lips: ‘Thor…whorehouse.’ Loki’s eyes narrowed, and then he punched Fandral in the face. The sharp crack of his nose breaking split the air. “Loki,” Odin boomed, shuffling in front of the long table at the head of the hall. “The Rite feast is no occasion for your brutish theatrics.” Loki’s fingers tightened around Fandral’s wrist and a pathetic squeal snaked from his throat. “He tried to sabotage my partner,” Loki growled through gritted teeth. He sent Fandral sprawling to the floor. “See? He bears the seed of a god on his hand – you know the rules better than any, father. It would render her ineligible to take part. Bartered with a lady of the night in Asgard’s township from one of her patrons, no doubt.”

Your stomach dropped as gasps rose around the hall; whispers of a hundred conversations turning to a roar. “Silence,” Odin shouted. The guests obeyed. “Is this true?” he directed at a cowering Fandral. “Surely no god would involve themselves with such a person, such an act.” Your eyes swung to Loki. You’d never seen him angry. And dark irons…it was hot.

His fists clenched and unclenched by his sides; a muscle in his jaw feathering with every strong beat of the pulse in his neck. A wave of pride, and desire, and…something else, swelled in your stomach. The gold-spired crown on his head glittered beneath candlelight, dark curls spilling over brocaded shoulders like ink. “I assure you, father – it is true.”

And Odin knows it…bastard, you thought as Loki turned, brows heavy as he stared his father down. “Order him from my sight, or I cannot be responsible for what comes next.” And for once, Odin complied.

You couldn’t hear Fandral’s protestations of innocence, or the clatter of guards. All you could hear were Loki’s heavy breaths as he pulled you after him down a side corridor and into the open air of the balcony. All you could feel was the press of his body to yours as your back hit the wall; the pressure of his ravenous kiss; the need of his sighs and broken apologies into your open mouth.

His palms cupped your cheeks, lips slotting so perfectly against yours and the weight of his chest flush to your body like he thought you might vanish.

You pressed a palm to his chest, pushing him back. Deja-vu of the first night you entered Loki’s world flashed in front of your eyes: a kiss on a balcony, a promise made with hidden intentions– but it was nothing like this.

There was something different swimming in his sapphire eyes: more than lust, or duty…or tricks. It would’ve been a foregone conclusion that Loki would be successful in achieving The Rite with Fandral. He could bring that golden turd pleasure like he’d never known; show the Norns he could win the love of the people who worshipped him…but that option was dead now. Not that you’d wanted it for him in the first place.

Could that look in Loki’s eyes be faked? The one that smouldered with embers of cities he’d burn for you; of how inexplicably far he’d go to keep you as his partner in this farce even though the odds were stacked against him. He’d known they were all along. “Loki…” you whispered, and he wet his lips, biting the bottom one softly as his gaze fell. I could love him, you realised. Eyes wide open; knowing that this might be all it ever was, and even if he would never feel the same – I could love him. With the little time that was left, you only hoped it would be enough.

Tags in comments ❤️as always I lovvvvve hearing your thoughts! Thank you so much if you're here!

Chapter Six: Consequences

[masonmontz]

hellooo everyone :) hope you like it. continuation of holidays in Greece, but can be read separately :)

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

fluff and smut  word count: 3k

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“Let’s have dinner? Just both of us” Mason said to you three days later. The vacations have been great and you are totally in love with his family, all of them are treating you very well and his mom became your favorite. “I love them all, but I need silence and just your company for a few hours.”

“Your mum invited us to have dinner with them, Mase” you said, brushing your hair after your bath. You spent the morning at the beach and after lunch you spent the rest of the afternoon at the pool. Your arms were hurting from holding the children for so long and throwing them into the air while they were in the water. 

Greece is stunning. You had never been to such a beautiful place, you had never seen such an incredible sky and sea and every day you thanked Mason for taking you. You spent the days watching the sunset holding each other and it was very romantic until Mason made some sexual jokes. 

Mason was lying in bed after a long shower, dressed only in swim shorts. You could see his skin is a little red from days in the sun, even though he has applied sunscreen several times. You, on the other hand, were very tanned and Mason was loving seeing the bikini line on your body. 

“Please, babe, let’s go out with me tonight?” He asked again and you looked at him. He had a lazy smile on his lips and he was lying in the middle of several pillows, everything seemed comfortable and you just wanted to lie next to him for hours without moving. “Tomorrow then? That face of yours tells me there's something more interesting to do.”

“Mase, behave yourself, your family is at home.” You told him and he sighed, thinking about how to change your mind. Yes, you had some fun the first night but after feeling embarrassed at the first breakfast with his family, you decided to take a break from Mason.

And he's crawling for you now.

“I promise I’ll be quiet.” He got up and walked towards you, hugging you from behind and making you stop brushing your hair. He left a few kisses on your bare shoulder because of your strapless blouse and held you against him. You felt his body warm against yours. 

“No. Stop it. We’re not doing anything tonight.” 

“Tomorrow?”

“No, neither.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” He whined and you smiled, watching him rest his chin on your shoulder and stare at the two of you in the mirror. “You’re torturing me. You’ve been walking around in a bikini and short clothes all day and barely gives me a kiss.”

“Don't keep whining.”

“You’re evil, woman.” You laughed at him. “What about let them go out for dinner and we can enjoy this big bathtub again? And the best thing is that we can leave the curtains open.”

“Don't even try, we're going to have dinner with them.” Mason finally accepted and let you go, going back to bed while you finished putting on your makeup. There's a knock on the door and Mason tells to come in, then you see two little girls running across the room to the bed, throwing themselves at Mason. 

“Oh my God, Y/N, look, we have two princesses in the room.” You heard them laughing with him and turned to look at the two of them with a crown on their heads. “I think we lost Poppy and Summer, maybe that's Elsa and Anna.”

“No, uncle Masey, it's me and Poppy.” Summer told him and took off the crown, wanting to show her uncle that she was still her.

“You're right, you're still my girls.” He held them both and twirled them around the room, making them laugh. 

“I think you look beautiful, look at these crowns.” You said and smiled, seeing how happy they were with the compliment.

“Are you ready for dinner?” Mason asked and sat on the bed.

“Yes, nanna asked us to call you and auntie Y/N.” Poppy said and held Summer’s hand, both looking at you and Mason. 

“Girls, we'll go downstairs soon, okay? Tell nanna to wait a few minutes.” As soon as they left, Mason closed the bedroom door again and looked at you. “You're going to leave me with nothing, right?”

“It will just be the two of us in Italy, handsome.” 

“Okay, I'm going to change.” 

You decided to wear a short blue dress, matching Mason who wore a blue shirt of the same tone. 

“Wow, look at you.” You saw him blush when you praised him. “You're so gorgeous, I’m so lucky.”

“Stop making me embarrassed. I'm the lucky one, actually.”

He walked up to you and hugged you, then you brought your arms to his neck, leaving a kiss on his lips. You caressed the back of his neck and he got goosebumps, so you decided it was time to go downstairs.

Dinner was great, in a restaurant overlooking the city lights. You had a great time and were happy to have fit in with Mason's family the same way he fit in with your family. Mason had won your father over to Manchester United, giving tickets and shirts signed by other players. Mason was his favorite person.

You and Mason ordered the same pasta for dinner, and before you noticed, you had already had three glasses of wine while talking to them. Mason smiled at you as you were speaking slowly from the drink, and held your hand on the way home so you wouldn't trip.

“Three glasses of wine, right? Maybe you want a bath now?” Mason smiled mischievously at you. “I will help you.”

“Mason, we're not having sex.” You spoke louder than you should have, but sighed in relief when you saw that the others were further ahead. Mason agreed and you continued walking as you watched the beautiful street to the house.

“Auntie Y/N, can we sleep over with you and Uncle Mason tonight?” Poppy asked as soon as you arrived home, and Summer agreed with her, wanting to sleep with her auntie and uncle too. Mason had a desperate look on his face when he heard the ask, but how could you say no to those two pretty faces?

“Why not? Uncle Mason will love it.” Everyone laughed when they looked at Mason and saw his face. He loved his nieces more than anything, but a night's sleep was essential to him. “Harley, do you want to sleep with us too?”

“No, I'm going to sleep alone. Poppy kicks a lot at night.” 

“Oh, nice.” Mason said ironically, but smiling.

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“I feel like I slept with MMA fighters.” Mason complained during the morning, after being kicked several times by his nieces during the night. You got kicked so many times that you decided sleeping on the couch was better, so in the middle of the night you went down to the living room and slept alone. And Mason also complained that it was weird to sleep without holding you. “Look, a bruise on my arm.”

“Stop complaining, Mason.” Debbie scolded him. 

“Now you know why I always have dark circles under my eyes.” Jaz said and Stacey agreed with her. 

“Maybe we can go to a party tonight? The kids can stay with grandma and grandpa.” Lewis came up with the idea and you can't help but think it would be cool.

“Y/N and I are going to dinner tonight. Alone.” It didn't take long for you to disagree with Mason.

“But after dinner we'll go to the party with you, it's a great idea, actually.” Mason looked like he wanted to kill you, but you know he just wanted to be alone with you and try to make out with you. 

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“Why did you agree to this party? I mean, we could make out in the middle of this place and no one would see us.”

“Stop being a pervert.” Mason ran his hand down your legs as you walked to the place Lewis mentioned.

“I can't help it, you look so hot in that dress.” You put on the dress that was Mason's favorite, a tight and short black dress that left your curves showing. You put your hair in a ponytail and put on light makeup, the sunny days left you blushing and Mason was in love with the sight of you. You also put on heels, also Mason's favorite.

Mason, on the other hand, was wearing an open black shirt, shorts and sneakers. He put on the necklace with your initial and was wearing sunglasses. You've never seen him as hot as he was tonight. You couldn't stop staring at him and he had noticed, so he took advantage of the situation and occasionally smiled at you, ran his hand over your body or whispered in your ear, making you shiver. 

He knows exactly how to tease you. 

The place was crowded and it took you a while to find his family. You saw Lewis and Jaz dancing while the others sat talking. They waved when they saw you and Mason arriving and were soon offered some drinks for the two of you. 

Mason was responsible and didn't drink too much when you were drinking, just in case he needed to take care of you, but that night you told him to allow himself, because you were with his family and nothing could go wrong, so when you noticed, you and Mason had already drunk a little and were dancing together in the middle of the dance floor.

After a while Mason got tired and you continued dancing with his sisters, sometimes you stared at him and ran your hands over your body, teasing him who was sitting between his brother and brothers-in-law. Mason looked at you with desire and you felt your body heat up, knowing you couldn't last long without feeling him all over your body.

For your relief and safety, around 2 am Stacey announced that she was tired and everyone decided to leave, so you and Mason walked side by side down the street to the house. Mason was hugging your shoulders and you were holding him by the waist, leaning on him as you walked.

Everyone went to their rooms when you arrived and you and Mason decided to stay outside a little longer, enjoying the pleasant evening. Mason laid down on a lounge chair and pulled you against him, making you lay on top of him as he held you.

“Shall we go into the pool?” 

“Now?”

“It's hot and the water is nice, let's enjoy some time alone.” You got off of Mason and he sat up, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He left his glasses aside and stood up, taking off his shirt completely, then taking off his sneakers and shorts. “Come on, come in with me.”

“No, I can't be naked, someone might come down and see us.” 

“Babe, please, no one will see us, okay? Let's stay in the furthest part of the pool.” Mason approached and pulled down your dress, leaving you in just your panties, so you quickly hurried and took off your heels. “Look at you, girl.”

Before Mason noticed, you ran and jumped into the pool, hearing his laughter in the background. While you were laughing, he also ran and jumped into the pool with you, spilling water everywhere. 

Mason pulled you against him, still smiling, admiring you so close to him. You hugged him and you spent a few seconds enjoying the pool water until Mason started running his hands over your body. You wrapped your legs around his hips and let him press you against him. 

“Mase, please, everyone is home.” He pushed his hips against yours, making you gasp when you felt the volume. “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Cause I can't take another minute away from my girl, I want to feel her and make her feel so good.” 

“What am I going to do with you, Mason Mount?”

“You can start by giving me a kiss.”

Mason kissed you and took you to the farthest part of the pool, so if anyone came down, they wouldn't see you two. You kissed his neck and pulled his hair, hearing him moan against your mouth. 

Mason put his hand between your legs and pressed your clit, and you couldn't hold back a moan, ‘cause Mason always made you feel good.

“You like that, don't you?” Mason lowered his head a little and took your nipple into his mouth, licking and biting lightly. He continued with his thumb on your clit and you were already moving to ride his fingers. “Are you wet for me, love?” 

“Yes, Mason, please, I want more.” 

“See? This is so good, I don't know why you were avoiding me.” He licks your neck. “I wanna make you feel so good.” 

Your tummy was doing somersaults as he licked and touched you, you could feel him all over your body but it wasn’t enough, so you moved your hand to his cock, hard and ready to fuck you. 

Mason took your hand off his dick and pressed you to the edge of the pool, fitting himself between your legs and making you feel his hard cock on your pussy, making the moves to turn you on. You closed your eyes and let your head fall on Mason's shoulders as he touched you, the wind made you shiver and your nipples hardened.

“Fuck” Mason whispered when he felt your nipples against his chest. Mason held you and pushed you out the pool, so you sat on the edge while he stayed in the water. “Right where I want you.” 

“Please, Mase.” 

Mason took off your underwear and left you naked on the edge of the pool, so in a few seconds he already had his tongue on your clitoris.

“Oh my God” you cried and felt his tongue in the right place, your body melting with his tongue slowly sliding over your clit and you couldn’t hide how good it was. 

Alternating between long licks and quick movements, back and forth, he drags his tongue between your slick folds and you can't stop moaning and murmuring, and he knows exactly where to touch or use his tongue, knowing your body well.

"Yeah, keep doing that, Mase.” Loud and desperate moans came out of your mouth, Mason was getting harder and harder in his underwear and he took one hand to his cock, squeezing it with his hand. 

“You wanna cum in my tongue?” Mason inserted a finger into you, making you whimper with excitement. “Cum for me, yeah?” 

“I’m so close, this is so good.” You held Mason's hair and rolled against his mouth, pressing your pussy against his tongue. “Oh-”. 

Mason sucked you and licked you all over while you came in his mouth, he moaned as you lay on the floor, just feeling the orgasm through your body. If you weren't lying on the floor, you would have fallen.

“Look at you, so beautiful after cum in mouth.” Mason left kisses on your thigh. “Let me fuck you, please?” 

“Yes.” 

“Right.” Mason got out of the pool and helped you get up, walking over to a lounger and laying you down on it. “Lay down for me, love.” You did as he asked and soon Mason climbed onto the lounger too. “Wow, look at this pussy glistening at me.”

Mason pumped himself a couple of times before penetrating you. He groaned when he felt you around him, tight and warm. He held your legs around his hips as he bent down to kiss you, Mason closed his eyes and laid his head in the crook of your neck, lightly biting the skin as he fucked you.

“Oh, my- fuck, Y/N, your pussy feels so good around my cock.” You dug your nails into his back and he groaned, but you put your hand over his mouth so he wouldn't make a noise and wake someone up. 

“Be quiet.” You warned him.

“I can’t.” Mason kissed you again, a lazy kiss as his hips sped up against you. “I love you. I love you so much.” Mason whispered in your ear and you moaned, putting your hand over your mouth after the loud noise.

“I love you too.” 

“Cum for me once again?” You both let out grunts and he continues to thrust into you. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, Mase.” Mason became desperate and you almost screamed as you once again felt the orgasm throughout your body, you felt Mason tremble on top of you as you felt him spurt inside you. “Oh, fuck.”

“Oh my God.” Mason groaned. You giggled as Mason fell on top of you, stroking his hair. “Seriously, it's the best feeling in the world.”

You spent a few minutes lying in silence, just listening to each other's breathing.

“Put on my shirt, let's go up quickly so no one sees us.” Mason got up and put on his underwear, taking the shirt he was wearing at the party and handing it to you to wear. He picked up your dress and heels from the floor, carrying them for you. He held out his hand and you took it, then the two of you walked up the stairs while laughing softly.

“We look like teenagers.” You said and hugged him when he closed the bedroom door.

“I don't care, I just want to be with you.”

[nateezfics]

THINGS ATEEZ SAY IN BED: SAN

↳ things ateez say during sex. san version.

↳ warning: smut, dirty/sexual language

• “is that how you wanna play? fine, i’ll play along, but just remember you asked for this.”

• “what was that? say that again. i dare you.”

• “oh c’mon, where’s that attitude from earlier? don’t tell me it’s all gone just because you’ve got my cock in you.”

• “if you don’t behave, i’ll spank you. but then again, you might like that too much.”

• “see, precious, this is what happens when you’re good; you get rewarded. isn’t it nice?”

• “open your mouth. i’m gonna stuff it with my cock so you won’t be able to mouth off to me again.”

• “i love you even though you are a brat to me way too often.”

• “always so eager to take my cock. filthy.”

• “you have been so good for me, precious. lay back and let me worship you.”

• “you want more? what’s the magic word? ah, there you go.”

• “you mean to tell me that you were acting like a little brat just to get my attention? oh precious, if you wanted me to fuck you so bad, you could’ve just asked.”

• “fuck, precious, your nails digging into my back are gonna drive me crazy.”

• “leave your mark on me, and i’ll do the same for you.”

• “stop wiggling or else i’ll have to tie you up.”

• “precious, if you keep moaning like that, i might cum too early.”

• “okay precious, suck on my fingers. we gotta keep quiet or else they’ll hear us.”

• “you’re really crying, huh? feels that good?”

• “look at me while you cum, precious. ah, you’re so pretty.”

• “brats don’t get to make demands. face down, ass up.”

• “i’ll deal with you at home. now behave, precious, unless you don’t want a single orgasm at all tonight.”

AUTHOR’S NOTES — i am of the opinion that san leans more towards being a hard dom. in fact, i think all three of the demon line are more hard doms. i think they can have their soft moments for sure, but ultimately they love to be a little more rough during the deed. i also am fully convinced they are brat tamers, especially hongjoong and san ;3

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[simplygojo]

"Double the Pleasure, Double the Pain"

a.n. ⸺ Hey y'all, I've been excited for this short fic, requested by the lovely @takuma-talkz! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for requesting! <3

Spooky Szn Masterlist

Pairing ⸺ Ino Takuma x f!reader x Kento Nanami

Word Count ⸺ 2K

Kinktober Taglist ⸺ @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings ⸺ 18+ SMUT, MDNI, threesome, spanking, face-fucking, hair pulling, nicknames, brat taming, rough sex.

The night had begun innocently enough, the three of you hanging out at Nanami’s apartment, but as the hours passed and the wine flowed, a simmering tension coiled between you, ready to snap. 

Now, you found yourself sandwiched between the two of them, heart racing and anticipation building as the atmosphere shifted from playful banter to something far more charged.

Ino leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “You really thought you could tease us all night without consequences?” 

His fingers danced along your thigh, tracing the delicate fabric of your skirt. The thrill of his touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, daring him to continue.

Nanami’s expression was a mix of amusement and discipline, his piercing gaze locked onto yours. 

“You’ve been quite the brat tonight, haven’t you?” He said, his voice low and gravelly, sending a delicious thrill through you. You smirked, defiantly meeting his eyes, but the challenge didn’t go unnoticed.

In one swift motion, Nanami’s hand gripped your chin, pulling your gaze upward to meet his intense stare. 

“You think you can test our patience?” He asked, a hint of a growl in his voice, his grip firm but not painful, just enough to assert his control. His other hand moved to his belt, expertly unbuckling it with a practiced ease that sent a thrill of anticipation through you.

“Let’s see how long you can keep that mouth shut,” he murmured, the promise of discipline lingering in the air. He pulled the leather strap free, holding it up as if it were a weapon of seduction.

“Good girl,” Ino purred, leaning in closer. “I think it’s time we remind you who’s in charge.”

As Nanami’s hand tangled in your hair, tugging gently but firmly, your breath caught in your throat. 

He maneuvered you so that your wrists were presented before him, the cool metal of his belt buckle glinting in the dim light. 

“This will help keep you in line,” he said, wrapping the belt around your wrists and securing it snugly, leaving you helplessly restrained. 

The soft leather felt rough against your skin, and the rush of being bound sent a thrill coursing through you.

Your breathing quickened, a mix of excitement and arousal flooding your senses. 

“What if I like being a brat?” You challenged, trying to sound confident despite the vulnerability you felt. 

But as you glanced between the two men, the heat in their gazes sent another wave of anticipation rushing through you.

Ino chuckled, the sound low and intoxicating. 

“Oh, you’ll like it even more once we’re done with you.” His palm connected with your ass in a sharp smack, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through you. 

“Now, how many times do you think we’ll have to remind you to behave?”

Nanami’s grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back. 

“I suggest you take this seriously. We both know you’ve pushed your luck.” His voice was a steady murmur, as if he were simply stating a fact, and it made your stomach flutter with excitement.

Ino’s fingers danced over the exposed skin of your thighs, drawing circles that ignited flames of desire. 

“You like that, don’t you? Knowing we can do anything we want with you?” His voice was silky, laced with a hint of danger. 

“I can’t wait to see how you react when we really push you.”

With that, Ino's fingers ghosted higher, teasing just at the edge of your heat, while Nanami's grip on your throat tightened slightly, a reminder of just how much control he had over you.

You could feel the heat pooling in your core, and you fought the urge to grind against Ino’s hand, desperate for friction.

“Please,” you whimpered, the word escaping before you could think.

“Please what?” Nanami challenged, his voice dropping an octave as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“Use your words.”

“Please... I want more,” you gasped, the heat in your cheeks deepening as you let the vulnerability wash over you.

“Good girl,” Nanami said, satisfaction colouring his tone. 

“You’ll get what you want, but only when we decide.”

Ino chuckled, and you could see the gleam of mischief in his eyes. “You’re going to have to work for it, though.”

As Nanami’s hold on your throat eased, his fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, while Ino’s hands explored the curves of your body, squeezing and pulling in all the right places. 

The dual sensations left you gasping, your body arching toward their touches, wanting nothing more than to be completely consumed by them.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Nanami suggested, his tone commanding.

Without hesitation, they guided you down the hall, the anticipation buzzing in the air as you entered the dimly lit room. 

Nanami pushed you gently onto the bed, the cool sheets contrasting sharply with your heated skin.

“On all fours,” he instructed, his voice firm yet enticing.

You obeyed, getting onto your hands and knees, heart pounding with anticipation. Ino knelt behind you, his hands gripping your hips, positioning you just right as Nanami moved closer. 

“You’re going to feel so good,” he promised, his breath fanning over your back.

Ino’s fingers danced along your spine, teasing you as he spread your legs wider, exposing your desperate cunt fully to them. 

“Look at you, so eager,” he taunted, a wicked grin on his face.

Nanami stepped forward, his hard length just inches from your face, a sight that made your mouth water. 

“Remember to keep your hands behind your back,” he reminded you, his tone darkly playful. You nodded, the thrill of being so vulnerable only heightening your desire.

With a swift motion, Nanami gripped your hair, pulling your head back slightly as he pressed his cock against your lips. 

“Open up for me,” he commanded, his voice low and filled with authority. You gladly complied, taking him in your mouth, feeling the heat and weight of him as he pushed deeper, touching the back of your throat.

“Such a good girl,” Nanami praised, his grip on your hair firm as he began to thrust, setting a rhythm that was both deliciously intense and overwhelming. 

The warmth of his skin against your tongue, the taste of him filling your mouth—it was intoxicating.

Ino positioned himself behind you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. 

“You’re going to love this,” he said, his voice thick with lust. He pushed in slowly, filling you completely, stretching you in a way that made you moan around Nanami’s shaft, causing.

The combined sensations were overwhelming. 

Nanami pulled your hair, guiding you to take him deeper, while Ino thrust hard and deep, the two of them working in sync to bring you to the edge of ecstasy.

“Tell us how it feels,” Ino urged, his breath hot against your ear.

“Y-you feel so good,” you managed to gasp, the words muffled around Nanami’s cock.

“Good girl,” Nanami replied, his thrusts becoming more demanding as he drove into your mouth, forcing you to take him fully with each movement. He pulled your hair harder, and the mixture of pleasure and pain had you trembling, completely at their mercy.

Ino’s hand came down hard against your ass, a sharp smack that sent shockwaves of pleasure racing through you. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He taunted, his pace quickening as he buried himself deep inside you.

A stifled moan escaped your lips around Nanami’s length, the words swallowed by the delicious pressure of him filling you completely. 

Tears of pleasure pricked at your eyes as you fought to take him deeper, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. 

The heat radiated from your cheeks, your body alight with desire as you revelled in the sensations. 

Every thrust, every slap of Ino’s hand against your skin heightened your arousal, pushing you closer to the edge.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming. Nanami’s grip on your hair was a tantalizing reminder of your submission, pulling you just right, guiding you deeper onto his cock as you struggled to breathe. 

The taste of him filled your senses—salt and heat—overwhelming you with every thrust. You felt like you were floating in a blissful haze, completely consumed by them.

Ino’s pace increased, his thrusts deep and forceful, each one sending pleasure spiraling through your body. 

You could feel every inch of him as he filled you from behind, stretching you in ways that made your head spin. 

The sensation of being filled from both ends was exquisite; it was as if you were being split open, filled to the brim with pleasure that was both dizzying and deliciously intense.

“Such a good little slut,” Ino breathed, his voice thick with lust as he leaned closer, his hands gripping your hips. 

The way he filled you completely, thrusting deep and slow before picking up the pace, made you whimper in response. 

You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, dripping down your thighs as your body reacted instinctively to the raw, primal urges surging within you.

“Look at you,” Nanami said, his voice low and steady, contrasting with the chaos of your emotions. 

“So eager, so desperate. Just for us.” His thrusts grew more insistent, each movement pushing you closer to the brink, demanding everything you had to give.

With every stroke of Ino’s hips against yours, the pleasure built like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. 

The rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the heavy breaths that filled the air, and the intoxicating heat radiating from both of them enveloped you in a cocoon of bliss.

“Don’t you dare come until we tell you to,” Nanami growled, his grip tightening on your hair, sending a shiver down your spine. 

The tension in your body became almost unbearable, your thighs quaking with the effort to hold back the impending wave of pleasure.

The thrill of submission sent waves of warmth flooding through you, and you felt alive, pulsating with need. 

A muffled sound escaped your throat, a blend of desperation and desire as you felt the pressure building within you. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes, each thrust driving you closer to a peak you could taste but couldn’t reach.

“Good,” Ino replied, a dark grin spreading across his face as he thrust harder, the force of his movements sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. 

“Just keep taking it, and we’ll reward you.”

You could feel the heat building deep within you, your body desperate to release, yet every time you got close, the control they exerted over you kept you teetering on the edge. 

Each thrust, each slap, and every harsh pull of your hair drew you further into a haze of lust, completely lost to the sensations.

“Look at you, all flushed and needy,” Nanami taunted, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers coursing through you. “You want to come, don’t you?”

The only response you could muster was another stifled moan, a sound filled with desperate longing that echoed around Nanami’s length. 

The pleasure coursed through you, thick and suffocating, and you felt as if you were drowning in the overwhelming sensations.

“Then just hold on a little longer,” he urged, his movements becoming more rhythmic, driving deeper, pushing you closer to the precipice with each powerful thrust.

As they worked together, the world around you faded into nothing, leaving only the heat, the pleasure, and the intoxicating dominance of both men. 

You were theirs, completely lost in the overwhelming sensations of being filled from both ends, caught in a whirlwind of pleasure that you never wanted to end.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #28

28. Fucking Machine // Phone Sex // Impact Play (Wade Wilson x Reader)

“How’s it going?”

“Boring,” sighs Wade, his voice crackly on the other end of the line. “You’d think the people I’m waiting for would have the good grace to appear after like, ten minutes. I’m freezing my nuts off up here.”

Yeah, you don’t envy him for having to be on stakeout tonight. At least he was allowed to take his phone so he could have something to do. He didn’t need his mouth to watch somewhere, he reasoned, meaning he had time to talk to you too. 

You have him on loudspeaker as you cook, preparing macaroni - simple but a favourite in your little household. Wade hums at the sound of you stirring cheese through pasta.

“Wow, pookie, didn’t realise just talking to me made you that wet… man, if I ever went on public radio I’d ruin panties all over the state…”

“I’m making dinner, you goofball.”

“Likely story.” A beat. “Hey, what are you wearing?”

“What do you think I’m wearing, Wade? You saw me this morning.”

“Sure, but I want you to describe it to me.”

You laugh as you top bechamel sauce with breadcrumbs. “I’m wearing those jeans that make my ass look great and one of your shirts. The one which says ‘I love my slut dad’.”

He laughs at his own taste in casual wear and you can’t help but feel oddly sentimental towards him.

“And your panties?”

“From a bulk five-pack I got from Walmart. Not sexy, I’m afraid, baby.”

“They’re sexy if you’re in them.”

“Well that’s very sweet.”

“Do you wish I was there? Give me something, pookie, I’m dying here.”

Macaroni in the oven, you set the timer for twenty minutes and chuckle.

“I do wish you were here, Wade. I wish I was bouncing on your cock instead of watching Hawaii 5-0 all night, is that what you wanna hear?”

From the breath he takes in, yeah, it is. You laugh again. 

“Wow, you’re that horny, huh?”

“Well I’m sat on a rooftop with nothing else to entertain me but my imagination! So yeah, it turned dirty pretty fast. If you were here I could bend you over the balcony and fuck you while still being on lookout… but you’re not. The universe conspires against me, god’s bravest warrior.”

You pause for a moment, considering. When you talk again your voice is lower. Sultry. 

“You hard in your suit, baby?”

“Oh fuck.” You can picture his face lighting up. “You know I am. Fuck. Been hard most of the goddamn day.”

“You can touch yourself. Nobody can see you, right?”

You hear the sound of hands moving on spandex, then the unmistakable slap of skin on skin from the other side of the phone line as he starts to fuck his own hand. 

“Spit on it for me, Wade.”

“Holy fuck, babe…”

“You gonna behave?”

From the other end of the phone you’re able to pick up the welling of saliva in his mouth, and can imagine the way he spits a globule of it onto his cockhead.

“Good boy,” you whisper and Wade makes a strangled noise.

“Oh shit… baby you’re gonna make me cum so hard I’m gonna be ejected off this goddamn roof… they’re gonna find me splattered over the pavement in a mix of blood and cum…”

“Hmm. I’m willing to take my chances.” You slip your hand between your legs and give an exaggerated moan. 

“Holy shit Wade, I wish you were here. Keep me busy while the macaroni is cooking. Or maybe I could just cockwarm you for a little while, hm? Feel you struggling under me…”

“Y-you already did that on day eight…”

The desperation in his voice suggests he won’t last much longer. You grin to yourself.

“We could even ask if Logan wants to watch.”

Wade comes with a whimper. You know it, it’s a whimper he only emits when he’s so horny he’s physically incapable of making any other noise. You let him ride out his orgasm for a moment before asking: 

“So, did you splatter on the pavement?”

“No, but my suit is now covered in jizz, which is arguably worse.”

“Arguably…” you snort affectionately. “Do you feel better now?”

“Well, for like, ten minutes. I’ll call you back? I’ve got a uh, sticky situation to clean up.”

“Sure baby. Have fun.”

“How can I not have fun, cleaning up my own ejac—”

You hit the hang up button before he can finish. But it’s with fondness.

[smellslikechahnspirit]

Request: so 👁️🫦👁️ it's inspired by his solo performance song "railways" and my request is: chan clubbing with the team after a successful tour -in the club, red lights, party - suddenly she caught his eye.

he texts this girl saying he had his eyes on her all the evening he loved how she was dressed black short dress very sexy with her long hair loose sitting alone by the bar and that he'd like to meet her or something!!

Thank you ✨

Rail me

[You did what you both have been wanting to do for a long time]

BangChan x Reader

🕸🤍 read guide lines in Masterlist!

THIS IS (OBVIOUSLY) ALL FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! THIS IS MY PERCEPTION OF HOW I THINK SKZ WOULD BEHAVE IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS AKA, NOT REAL. I DO NOT SEXUALISE CHRIS IN ANY WAY OR FORM.

ADULT CONTENT AHEAD!

11:51 PM

It was almost as if he could litterly feel the sweat coming off of everyone. The club was overheated. People dancing up against each other everywhere. Music loud. Red lights bright in his face. He was having some what of a good time with his friends. Yet something didn´t quite meet his needs. Even though he was in a room full of people, he felt lonely. Hey bro, I think imma head out soon. I´m beat. I understand, get home safe yeah? Bet. After he said his goodbye to Felix, who by the way was still full on dancing with Hyunjin, since hours ago, he decided to indeed leave. Right before heading out he noticed you. The girl he has had feelings for, for some years now. Both never really confessing, you kinda knew there was something there. He thought about it for a second, and decided to just text you. Something about his lonely needs...would be cured, he thought.

Right as you read his last send message you were tapped on the shoulder. You turned but no one was there. Boo. You turned the other way and saw Chris standing there. With that signature goofy-looking smile on his face. Dork. You smiled back. He gave you a hug and a soft kiss on your cheek. Hi love, looking so hot tonight huh. When? Hm? When did I ask? He made the ´-_-´ face and you started laughing. I´m kidding I´m kidding, thanks for the compliment. He sat next to you on one of the bar stools. So, where is the rest of the gang huh? Still dancing I guess. Hm I see. Both of you watch the dance floor as Felix and Hyunjin were looking a lot like a scene from White Chicks. Fire. Fire. Both of you laughed. But there was something about the way Chris kept looking at you. More intense then normally. More hungry. What? Chris didn´t wanna waste anymore time and threw himself into the deep. Let´s get out of here. Huh? Let´s go to my place. Innie is still here, and by the looks of it...he won´t be home soon. Let´s go? You weren´t someone who just did these kinds of things with men, like ever. But you liked Chris since the day you guys first met. Was he really suggesting, what you thought he was suggesting? You looked at him confused at first. Then questionable. Trust me, yeah? You did, you trusted him with your life. You got up and took his hand. Both leaving the club and he drove you to his dorm.

00:23 AM

When he opened the door and closed it back behind you, he once again, didn´t waste any time. He pinned you up against the wall and started kissing you. After a few seconds you stopped him. Chris...once we go there...there is no turning back. He pulled your messy hair away from your eyes and looked at you. What are you worried about? You want this too right? Yes..yes I do very much. But people... People? What people? I don´t see anyone here? He said as he prentend to look for someone in the dorm. People won´t like this. And what about what I like? And you? Hm? Don´t worry about the cassulties baby. You´re safe, while it´s just you and me. Your fear of people finding out was real, but he had a point. No one knew. And besides. He and you are adults and should be able to do whatever you both wanted, without caring what other people wanted. Fear is dead. Nothing but desire crawled into your veins and you pushed him away a bit further. But the worried look you had a couple of seconds ago was turned into a hungry one. He smirked right back. You slowly started to undress yourself. He watched you every move. His heart was racing. He grabbed your face again and kissed it hard. You kept taking off pieces of clothing as he did the same to his. Not breaking the kiss once. Once you were both almost naked, only underwear left on your bodies, He grabbed your legs, making you jump up and wrapping around his waist. He walked over to his bedroom and locked the door. Throwing you onto his bed making you giggle. He stood in front of you palming himself through his boxers. You kept looking at him. God he was so perfect. Sculpted by the gods themselves. Not a flaw on his body or soul. The thought of him touching you, was enough to make you wet. You couldn´t take the tension anymore and started rubbing your clit through your panties. He kept watching you as he got closer and closer. You want me yeah? Just like I want you? You could only nod. By now he was bascially hovering over you. Allow me? He took your hand away from yourself and pinned it above your head. His other hand unclipped your bra first, then went over to your panties. He did the same thing you were doing before, yet when he did it, it felt different. He looked at you for confirmation to continue and you nodded again. He pulled your black laced panties to the side and his bare touch felt better than ever. He noticed you closing your eyes in pleasure. He knew you liked it when he touched you. Waited for this for a long time, huh babe? Shut up. He laughed. You opened your eyes and pulled him on the bed next to you. He turned around so now he was the one on his back. You have been waiting for it as long as I have, Mr. Bahng. He smirked and put his hands behind his head. Admired by the way you took control for a second there. Go ahead. You did as he said and pulled his boxers down, throwing them on the ground. The cold air making him hiss. You weren´t surprised by his size, since well, he has a big nose and feet. We all know what they say... You didn´t want anything more then to have him in your mouth right now. So you did. He let loose and completly went with his desired feelings, lost in lust. Gosh, your mouth feels like heaven, how come we didn´t do this sooner...shit. You hummed around him making it feel even better. Fuck y/n...shit...don´t stop...please... After about 30 more seconds of you sucking him, you finally stopped. Making him growl due to frustration at the sudden lost feeling. Which was pure bliss. When he came back to his senses he knew what you wanted. He scootched down a bit so his head was now flat on the bed. Sit. You hesitated at first. Feeling too exposed too fast. He pulled you closer and again spoke. Take a seat, baby. You gave in to the feeling and obeyed his commants. He grabbed you ass in his hands as he started eating you out. Making you throw your head back. Making you moan, but instandly you covered your mouth, shocked by your own noise. Let loose baby, moan, no one is here. Enjoy the ride. And fuck, you did.

Completely lost yourself now, his tounge worked wonders on your clit. Your brain sending waves of pleasure and extacy through your entire body. More, please. More! When you got close to your climax he stopped and pulled you off of him. You too, were angry at the sudden loss of the feeling. He giggled. Out of breath from all the moaning you dropped down face deep into the pillows below you. His abs touching your back as he whispered. I wanna fuck you. Too tired to respond, you just wiggled your ass. He understood, and positioned himself at your entrence, from behind. Your pussy was already so arroused and wet, it made his dick glide like butter. Please... You couldn´t wait any longer. Yet he kept teasing you, and rubbging his dick along your slit. It made you eager and you sat up on your hands and knees. You never imagined your first time with him would be doggy style, but it felt right. Maybe now, you wouldn´t get too attached. He positioned himself once again and pushed the tip in. Only the tip, yet it hurt a little. Wait. You said as you pushed his leg slightly with your hand. You okay? Am I hurting you? You waited for yourself to adjust a little and shook your head. No, it´s fine now. Keep going. He wanted this so bad, but only if it felt good for the both of you. You tell me if it does hurt, okay baby. You nodded. He figured it would be faster if he just pushed it in, in one go. So he did. Making you gasp. Baby! Shit! He kept looking at you, to see if you were still alright. Once he saw you were, he started moving. First slow strokes...Getting used to the new sensation. As were you, but you wanted more, faster then expected. Chris, move faster... Pleased at your request, he gladly did so. Both of you moaning, as he picked up the pace. Fuck you feel so goddamn good around me y/n. As he said that he smacked your ass hard, making you whine at the pain mixed with pleasure. He grabbed your ass tightly as he continued fucking you roughly, yet lovely. You two continued for a long time...but after a while you did start to feel the tension of your orgasm coming back. So did he. Are we gonna cum at the same time baby? Yes, yes, yes. A few more thrusts and he came inside of you. At the same time you felt your orgasm rush over you. All that build up tension exploting in one go. Feeling hot. Tintling through your veins. God it felt so good. Thinking about both of you cumming at the same time, and mixing your juices together was kinda romantic in a way. God I wanna do that again. You said as you plopped down into the matras. Same, fucking hell. That was amazing. He replied as he also dropped down into the bed, next to you. Giving you a soft kiss. Let´s go even harder for round two. You wanted nothing more, but definetly needed a little break and catch your breath. I´ll get you something to drink baby, wait here. Be right back. You turned around, now laying on your back, admiring him as he nakedly walked out of his room. He had such a great ass, it´s indescribable. You smiled to your self as you relived the moments from seconds ago, in your head. Happy and satisfied as can be. But the second he walked out of that door, he yelled. AHHH! You instandly sat up, wanting to know what happened. Innie....how long have you been here?! He spoke to the traumatised-looking boy, who was currently holding onto a pillow for dear life. Oops...

...Masterlist...

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© 2022-2024, smellslikechahnspirit • No posting on other sites or platforms, rewrites, or translations

[running-with-kn1ves]

A/N: Here's a little comfort thang for all my revenge bedtime procrastination buds going through their tumblr rn. I am so exhausted ya'll.

CW: Yandere themes, potential murder, drabble.

You're awake. It's past midnight, maybe 1AM. Maybe even close to 2. Your friends are gone, and not just for the night; it was, of your desperate hope, the last time you'd see them. The warm body behind you made sure of that. It pressed deeper against you, the ridges of a familiar stomach and chest leaning deep against your back, fingers smooth like water gliding up your hip, dipping to your waist, pulling your hair back from your neck. The night proved all you needed to know-- that this would be your last reunion.

No words needed to be exchanged, no spits of insults or creepy attempts to calm you with affection and smothering, tongued kisses. You saw it on your... "partner's" face. The jealousy, the rage-- the passive-aggressive jabs earlier in the night that just turned straight into aggressiveness. The snurks and vicious smiles that shot from across the room anytime you smiled, laughed, or acknowledged an inkling of a word someone other than your soulmate had produced. You were being hunted, being tested, with your friends only mildly put off-- not aware of the dangerous game they were playing whenever they tried to catch your attention, to act like a friend. Tonight was what you needed to see to know that your loved ones weren't safe as long as the body behind you was still warm.

If you didn't have the power of persuasion, and months of practice in calming down a creature that could turn at the drop of a hat, your friends might've been dead before they left your home. But your sacrifice, your lying awake on this night, misery swimming in your head as your body instinctively relaxed to the gentle touch, had proved that you kept them safe. That your life would always hang in limbo, the rest of it likely to be a very lonely existence as long as you remained fitted against a beast that liked to play with its food-- its lover.

"mm'n... I love it when it's just the two of us. So quiet, just your heart beating against my ear."

How could you sleep, praying you'd never see another acquaintance or old schoolmate in the grocery store while your lover was in earshot? You held more than just your own life in your hands, and it was terrifying. The trickles of fingernails gliding down your back with patterned ease usually lulled you to sleep, the tickle so soft it left you feeling airless. But you had laid here for two hours already, sending feverish prayers and sweating against the sheets as your paranoia got the best of you. The beast was happy now, but what would be next to set it off, to make it lash out at you, to draw you into a corner and decide you weren't behaving well enough to keep around anymore? You loved projects, to take home abandoned things and give them the safety they've never found before. it's just too bad it doesn't work that way with people.

A hand reached around to turn off the lamp beside you, deciding it was tired of teasing its victim. You enjoyed the momentarily release. Not long however, you received a suffocating bear hug from behind that tugged and pulled you snug against the heat radiating upon your neck. Soft, hot breaths, in line with your own helped fill the soundless night. You focused on those breaths, of in and out. Each of your own was tight and a little too late on the release, trying desperately to doze into unconsciousness.

[lo1k-diamonds]

SX Seoul series | Tae's entry 💜 Paramour

PAIRING: idol!Taehyung x (f) reader (you can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You were born for the quick and glamorous life surrounding celebrities — they had their little dramas and breakdowns, and you were there to clean up the mess. But you have your own secret, and doing your job might get you in trouble with your paramour.

WORD COUNT: 6,2k

GENRE: secret relationship, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: jealousy, drunk driving (❗), dirty talking, teasing, edging, fingering, slight degradation, brattiness, Sub/Dom (Tae), semi-public, exhibitionism, almost caught, unprotected rough sex, nipple play, hickeys and bruises, post-orgasmic crying 👀

A.N. Sorry guys, busy birthday yesterday💜 NCT members make a cameo just because I thought it'd be fun 😋 The paramour stands for the illicit/forbidden aspect of the relationship, not cheating. This oneshot is also part of the upcoming @bangtanwritershq 'Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?' quarterly event!

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You showed the badge hanging on your neck to the bouncer and waited quietly for him to cross-check your name. You glanced at the glacial blue striped lines above the club entrance while you waited. SX — the letters were so hot, that vapor was visibly emanating from them. You pursed your lips — you preferred them in red. 

You rubbed your arms with a chill; it wasn’t snowing too hard yet, but you wanted to go inside where it was warm. He nodded and let you pass, and you smiled, hurrying inside.

Fortunately, despite having the day off, you were supposed to come to this label party, so they had your name. Of course, you were supposed to have leisurely done your makeup and hair, not rushed when called with a bawling demand, but you sighed.

You didn't bother hanging your coat and just crossed the dance floor to one of the private rooms where the sound was muffled enough for people to lounge, have a drink and talk. Yet instead you recognized the team circling a single armchair, and they moved to let you through with worry and relief in their faces. They were your team.

“Hey,” you called out, and as soon as Una saw you from where she was sitting on that armchair, she threw her arms around your waist, bawling convulsively. You eyed the stylists and makeup artists, holding her back while you mouthed, “Eunbi?”

Everyone shook their heads, and you sighed, giving up on it. She was supposed to accompany Una tonight so you could enjoy yourself for a change, but you were there now.

“Alright,” you said firmly, kneeling so you could look at Una clearly. She was easily overly dramatic, but there was usually a reason for it. “Tell me what's wrong. You know I can fix it for you, just tell me what it is.”

Una didn't hesitate, sniffling and smudging her makeup away as though a firefighter had come to rescue her. “He— He was— all giggly and close to her!!”

She hid again, crying on your shoulder next to your dress strap, that fortunately was black, and you sighed. You petted her head as you mused on how to fix this. He — Winwin, Una’s boyfriend. Her — another girl, inconsequential, anyone, it didn't matter. Una was a star, but she got insecure about their relationship way too easily. 

You were musing on how to diffuse her breakdown when she pulled away to speak through sobs, “Unnie— Unnie—”

“Tell me,” you allowed gently, despite the way she was crying. Even her eyelashes were gluing together, but she was still like your younger sister.

“I want— to giggle— and be close to another man too!”

You did your best effort not to roll your eyes, and before you could get up and direct your team, she gripped your arms.

“Please! I'll behave! Don't send me away, just— I'll ask for only that.”

As if to convince you, she started to compose herself, reeling in her cry and wiping her face.

You sighed, “It's not nice to draw someone into this.”

“Pick someone from the label, someone nice. I'm friends with all of them, it's just pretend, please—”

She was going to start crying again, and you heaved a deep breath, holding her strongly in your arms for a beat. The senior manager would kill you and Eunbi if Una, the exceeds-expectations rising star, was caught upset and leaving the label party, but you weren't sure this option was better.

You pulled away when you felt her calm in your arms, then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “Are you sure? You can't ruin someone's night just to make him jealous.”

“I'll behave, I promise,” she sniffled, and to her credit, you did believe her. “Choose someone nice, unnie. Maybe Jungwoo if you find him.”

Your eyebrow quirked at the name, and you nodded, getting up and instructing everyone to make her look like the star she was. You turned to her, “I’ll see to it. No more crying, okay?”

“Thank you, unnie.”

Her smile was angelical, and you only sucked in a deep breath before leaving the room to the main dance floor. The loud house music reverberated along your rib cage while you scanned the room. You saw the managers, the staff, the artists; you knew almost everyone and smiled whenever they greeted you. Your eyes kept searching and stumbled on Winwin, leaning on the wall, talking to a woman. His blonde hair stood out as he played with the straw of his drink, and you rolled your eyes. He was just talking to the woman. If you reacted like that every time your man whispered secrets into another woman’s ear, you—

“Hey!”

A hand on your arm almost startled you, but it was Eunbi, and you squinted, “Where the hell were you?”

“Una’s dog swallowed a toy, I had to rush her to the vet!” 

Poor Eunbi. She was sweating, with her dark bangs gluing to her forehead despite the snowy cold outside, which told you she had raced here. This was turning out to be an even shittier night for her.

“Una texted me, saying she called you! I’m sorry, unnie!”

She bowed frantically, and you placed your hands on her shoulders, “It’s okay, calm down. I was coming here, anyway. Just make sure she doesn’t leave the backroom without calming down first.”

Eunbi nodded and was gone before you knew it, making your eyebrows twitch. Was it because you had managed to sleep a proper eight hours tonight that it seemed to you like everyone was out of it?

Your eyes pinpointed Winwin in the same position, with the same girl, before you kept looking for who you were truly searching for. Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed Taehyung with his friends, chatting casually. His jewelry was sparkling under the club’s lights, with his newly bleached hair in that warm color you liked so much. It fell like waves over his eyes, and you couldn’t help your smile. He looked good no matter what, but that was a favorite of yours.

Finally, you found Jungwoo a bit further ahead. He was hanging out with his close circle in a corner of the room, and you nodded, agreeing with Una. He was gentle and quiet, almost shy for an idol — he’d listen to her story and respectfully help Una through this.

So you made your way to him, smiling up to him when his eyes fell on you. His mouth stayed open, as if he had forgotten what he was about to say, and you smirked, “Long time no see! Can I join you for a moment?”

Taehyung almost did a double take when he saw you pass without even noticing him. His friends were casual enough to not notice and to allow him to train his eyes on you; where were you going?

He saw you sit next to Jungwoo with a huge smile, and his guts twisted. Why were the other people around you leaving you two alone? Why were you sitting so close to him, talking into each other's ears? Surely it was to hear each other above the noise, but it still made him close his fists. Jungwoo could surely take a whiff of your perfume every time he leaned in like that, so close to your luscious hair, and it just wasn’t sitting well with him.

Taehyung was about to walk over, do something he wasn’t exactly sure what, when you got up and walked away. That was enough for him to just go for it, ignoring his friends calls. All he could see was you, standing on your long smooth legs barely covered by a black tight dress, leaning on the bar counter to ask for the bartender’s attention.

“What are you doing?”

You turned, your eyes finding his on sheer magnetism. The corners of your lips raised, “Ordering drinks.”

You knew your mischievousness was slipping through, you just didn’t care. He leaned in a bit more, glancing around before speaking closely to you, “Are you having fun?”

You didn’t hide a grin, your teasing tongue peeking through before you chuckled, “My night was almost ruined, but it’s sure getting better.”

Whatever he was about to say got interrupted when the bartender reached you.

“One whiskey sour, one porn star martini, and one vesper.”

The bartender left and Taehyung didn't waste a second, leaning close to you, “I didn’t know you managed Jungwoo now.”

“I don’t. I don’t manage male stars anymore,” your eyes trailed over his silhouette from top to bottom before settling on his dark eyes. 

Your head tilted to the side, inviting him to say something more, but you could see his hesitation. His eyes were low, not just thinking about what to say, but actually apologetic.

He looked around at the bar, lips twitching before he voiced quietly, “You’re going to drink?”

“I’ll take a taxi.”

You felt his body press closer to yours, if pushed by the other people wanting a drink or just to touch you, you didn’t know. Either way, your eyes fixed on his, acknowledging that the world didn’t exist when he looked at you like that.

But then the bartender placed your drinks in front of you, and Taehyung moved away, pursing his lips. You smiled at the bartender with a thanks, and grabbed the whiskey sour, “Here.”

Taehyung looked down at the drink in your hand pressed to his chest, then at you.

“For your mood,” you winked, before grabbing the other two drinks and walking away.

You handed Jungwoo his drink and left to get Una, and were expecting to leave them together and go on your merry way. Instead, Una insisted you stay with them, and to your surprise, there was no wailing about Winwin. On the contrary, the conversation was pleasant, and you finally had one drink comfortably. It was not the networking you were expecting to get done that night, but at least it was calm and interesting.

At first, you thought Una needed her unnie’s support, then that it would be best you stayed so things wouldn’t get awkward or controversial. However, right about when you wanted to question Una’s decision, she got up and confronted Winwin. Or so it seemed, and you sipped on your drink as she jumped on him to kiss him, barely letting the man breathe. You saw Eunbi race to deal with it and chuckled; fortunately, that was not your job tonight.

Jungwoo shifted in his seat next to you, and you finally turned to him with a smile, about to thank him for his help with Una when he smiled, “Would you like to dance?”

Taehyung’s whiskey sour didn’t last long, but his sourness did. How could it not, when you stayed with Jungwoo after Una left? A part of him stayed rational; you were hanging out with people, and you were around idols all the time. But you weren’t talking to him professionally, not anymore, since Una left to make out with her boyfriend in one of the backrooms. No, you were quietly chatting just the two of you, and Jungwoo was leaning into you again, touching your beautiful hair.

He thought he could hold himself back by looking away and turning a purposeful back on you, but then he saw it. Your hand settled on Jungwoo’s leg and his blood boiled. 

The water bottle he was holding cracked as he closed his fist, grinding his teeth with all the things he wanted to do and say, but couldn’t. You got up with a small head bow and Taehyung smiled, ready to open his mouth and say goodbye to his friends, but then Jungwoo followed you. And Taehyung saw just red.

He shoved the bottle to the chest of whoever was trying to stop him, pushing them all aside to get to you. He gritted his teeth, growling in annoyance; all those people in the way, some trying to grab onto him and talk to him, and meanwhile you and Jungwoo were further and further away across the club.

A familiar voice tried to hold him back with an arm around his shoulders, and he shoved them back. He didn’t care where he was, who he was, or when. He gave no fucks about appearances, no fucks about staying quiet. All he cared about was you, and you were walking out of there with him.

He kept pushing people aside to get outside until he finally managed. His thoughts were incoherent, only getting to you mattered. You’d have questions, you’d tease him, but he didn’t care. He was justified, he—

He stopped right outside the club, noticing you standing with Jungwoo on the curbside. Taehyung opened his mouth, ready to call out for you, when a taxi stopped in front of you, and he staggered. He stopped breathing when you smiled mischievously at Jungwoo and stepped inside the vehicle. 

For a second, his heart stopped.

Then you closed the door and waved goodbye, and Jungwoo waved back before bowing. And Taehyung took a breath, but growled all the same, and ran to get to the label's parking lot where his car was. He drank, so he shouldn’t drive, but he had to confront you about this. He was about to explode and it was all your fault.

As soon as he parked, he had no recollection of driving, only of gripping the steering wheel and shaking as he raced there. The tall apartment complex where you lived stood right before him, and he fought the seatbelt to get free and out of the car. He ignored the snow falling and rushed to your doorstep, fortunately without slipping, only to stumble.

You were there, outside, leaning on the wall and absentmindedly scrolling through your phone. Your eyes raised to his, then put your phone away, turning to the side to dial your code instead. He saw you push the door open, but when you turned to him, he didn’t move. He was so mad before, but seeing you like this made him realize that was not all he felt — he was hurt.

You held out your hand to him with a welcoming smile and when he took it, you dragged him to the elevator. After selecting your floor, you wrapped your arms around his waist and sighed into his chest.

“Una wanted to make Winwin jealous with Jungwoo,” you revealed, safely tucked now that he was holding you back.

He took a second to press his lips to your head, “Yeah, and Jungwoo was totally into you.”

You almost chuckled, but had the sense not to, “Nah, he’s just kind, and took Una’s drama. He was just thankful I was there to help.”

You could feel Taehyung nuzzling the top of your head, inhaling your scent, and you just melted. You thought he’d be mad about the whiskey sour tease, but having him hold you like this told you this was about more than a silly cocktail.

He sighed, “Una is making things difficult.”

You pulled back and grinned, “Well, it happens when I can’t manage my superstar anymore.”

You booped his nose playfully and he searched for sadness or disappointment in your eyes, which he didn’t find, to his relief. “True, but… Maybe…”

When his voice disappeared, you incentivized, “Maybe…?”

“Maybe you should tell her about us.”

Your eyebrows jumped, “Why?”

“Because—” He held back for a second, but your wide eyes were enough to unravel him, “Because Jungwoo looked more than just thankful and if she had stayed with you, he wouldn’t have tried anything.”

You smirked, “How do you know he tried something?”

“He did?”

You couldn’t hold a poker face and laughed, even as Taehyung’s expression was turning from surprise to annoyance.

“Una can't keep a secret and I like my privacy,” you explained, knowing he knew this. You were cautious about the fact, not just who your SO was. You knew how the media and your coworkers worked — you didn’t want to plant the subconscious idea that it was possible. The less suspicion, the better. “Besides… if I did that, then how would I make you jealous?”

Your smile turned sly, and he had no qualms pushing you against the wall, “Is that what you were doing?”

You grinned, “Let’s say I didn’t shy away from the opportunity.”

Despite the irritation in his eyes, it was hard to resist smirking and teasing him. You could barely contain a giggle when he leaned into your neck to bite you in what to him constituted a punishment. But to you, it was far from it. You raised your hand to grab and intertwine your fingers with his hair, and closed your eyes, letting the tingling run down your spine. You bit your lip; it was a matter of time until he noticed that the marks he had left a few days ago were gone, and—

He snorted and bit harder, sucking hard to create new marks, and your grin widened. Even when he squeezed you impossibly, pressing you to the elevator wall and nibbled over a sensitive spot, you didn’t stifle your moans, though you remained quiet. You were melting between your legs with each bite and groan, knowing he couldn’t let you go because he wanted you so much. Your attention was so focused that the elevator doors opened and closed, and you didn’t even notice.

His lips trailed down to your cleavage, and your nails sank deeper into his scalp. You bucked your hips against him, blood running hot in your veins, far beyond the point of teasing. Making him jealous was the least of your concerns; rather, having him kissing and touching you was everything you always wanted, and you’d ask for nothing else.

He squeezed your waist to his, knowing well what your restless hips wanted when they bucked into him, but he had other thoughts. He licked and nibbled across your chest and nuzzled to get under the fabric of your bra, reaching with his tongue for one nipple. You shuddered from head to toe, losing the strength on your legs. He held you and the wall behind you supported you, but you were beyond waiting.

“Tae,” you cooed, torn between pressing him to your chest or pulling him to kiss you.

It didn’t matter what you wanted, because he offered resistance, more aggressively suckling and nuzzling your skin on your other tit. You moaned, sure that you’d be bruised at that point, and it only made you gush more between your legs. You didn’t want him to stop, but if he could do that while fucking you into the wall, that would be great.

Since pulling on his hair didn’t work, you let go of one hand to scratch down the back of his head and nape. His groan gave you shivers, and you licked your lips; you were so ready to consume him in any way he wanted, but he was still stubbornly away.

His coat was heavy, but he only had a silk shirt underneath, so instead of trying to strip him, you let him ravish your chest while one of your hands sneaked underneath his shirt.

His breath shook against your wet skin, and you grinned, knowing that goosebumps covered you both — you, from his licks trying to reach your underboob, and him, from your nails grazing his lower stomach.

“Baby,” you called again, continuing your torture. “Let me touch you,” your voice was sweet, yet he ignored you. He wasn’t able to hide his groans, though, or how you made him shake, so you continued, “I want to touch you, you’ll feel so good…”

Your tone was a playful promise, yet all he did was sink his fingers and teeth more into you. You were sure your chest would be covered in hickeys, and despite your smile, you were getting restless.

So you moved your hand expertly down, squeezing it past his belt, pants, and underwear to find what you were looking for.

You squeezed his hard cock in your hand, and he crumbled a little, groaning louder against your skin. You let him rut into your hand for a moment before continuing, mercilessly, “Feel that, baby? You’re so ready for me,” your voice was sweet, but your smile was sly. Your poor baby was groaning and leaking into your hand, unable to shy away, and you knew you’d win. “To make me yours, right?” He bit harder on your clavicle, and you chuckled, amused by his annoyance. “Look at you pretending to be mad…” You leaned to whisper into his ear, “But you can’t stop fucking my hand—”

He suddenly moved away from your chest and wrapped a hand around your neck. He faced you so closely, your noses touched, but the dynamics weren’t necessarily inverted yet. Despite his hand on your neck or your vulnerability, his hard cock was still in your hand, and you knew how to make him kneel.

And you made that point by jerking him off a bit more, squeezing so hard, you knew it could have hurt anyone else, but not him. All he could do was fight back the pleasure with a mask of indifference, but you saw right through him.

“You’re dying to bury yourself inside me, aren’t you?” Your tone was taunting, and his dark eyes only riled you up more. “Come on, give yourself what you want most.”

He chuckled, and moved to whisper into your ear, “You think that’s you?”

You smirked, “I know it’s me.”

He was already biting down your earlobe; he hummed, “Maybe I should teach you a lesson.”

You let your head fall back to the wall with a laugh, “You’re welcome to try.”

Your laugh didn’t last long; with a hand around your neck, firmly pinning you, Taehyung took the other to raise your dress and reach your throbbing core. You bit your lip while you waited, defiance mixed with anticipation in your glistening eyes. He saw this too, and despite his harshness to pull aside your clothes and underwear and shove two fingers inside you, you could only crumble and pray not to unravel too soon. You moaned desperately, turned on by absolutely everything: his harsh fingers inside you, the sloppy sounds from your cunt, his firm hand around your neck keeping you vulnerable to him, your tits half out of your bra and dress, covered in hickeys, and his stone-hard leaking cock in your hand inside his pants.

His dark eyes on yours were unsurmountable walls, dead set on teaching you a lesson, and you smirked yet again. Despite his rough handling, he knew you loved it, and with just a few bucks of your hips, you’d unravel so fast—

“No,” he pulled his hand away. “Didn’t think I’d let you, hm? Not so fast.”

You didn’t answer; you were ready to beg and coo for more, but his fingers were inside you again in a second, making you keen. Your moans were desperate, and your face didn’t hide all the ways you were falling apart for him.

“You talk so big,” he whispered to your red cheeks. “But you fall so quickly. Look at you,” he whispered, and you couldn’t seem to open your eyes, so close you could pop any second if only he let you. “So close already, how pathetic.”

You only groaned, with your cheeks and chest burning at the insinuation, but as he added his thumb over your clit, you let go. You let your head fall back; you wouldn’t fight him anymore, you wanted him to take care of you in every way, take away every thought and responsibility, and to exist only to feel good in his hands, and make him feel good.

Your moans echoed in the elevator along with your obvious wetness, squishing around his fingers. You opened your eyes to see him, thinking how pitiful you must have looked, basically begging him with every eyelash bat to consume your very existence, but he didn’t budge. 

Maybe he thought there was still defiance left in you. 

“Think anyone else can do this to you?”

He bit his words between teeth, and you could only melt more, shaking with a wave that could start your rapture, if only he didn’t purposefully keep it at bay. You moaned, and let your free hand caress his cheek gently.

“Think anyone else can make you feel this way?”

Your eyes filled with tears, but you were so overwhelmed you couldn’t reply. His jealousy gripped your heart firmly, reaching a deep part of you that needed to feel wanted and desired unconditionally, irrationally. On the other hand, he was still rutting into your fist, edging himself just as he edged you, as though that torture was shared between you both. That was your Tae, your man, fulfilling you in ways you couldn’t even voice.

“Please,” you tried, but it was weak. You were trembling, melting, overheating, functioning at a primal level that could only feel him, nothing else.

You saw in his glistening eyes that he would crack too, especially as he nuzzled your hot cheek, “Think you’ll ever beg for anyone else like you do for me?”

“No, baby, please,” you stammered, supporting your hand on the back of his neck to keep him close.

The corners of his lips curved in the hint of a smile, but then he shook his head, nuzzling you, “No, baby.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, rubbing his thumb over your clit deliciously slowly just to make you keen unashamedly. “You told me to teach you a lesson.”

“I got it,” you breathed.

“Yeah?” He waited, seeing in your concentrated expression how you thought you would come, and he licked his lips. He knew you all too well, he’d keep edging you until he got what he wanted. “Tell me,” he insisted, drawing your attention again. “What have you learned?”

“I love you.”

You opened your eyes to tell him this, and his eyes flickered with a spark. He couldn’t tell if you were teasing him, pulling at his heartstrings, or genuinely crumbled and succumbed to anything that wasn’t your love for him. You smiled at his hesitation, knowing he had good reasons to think twice, and that was your undoing.

His fingers relented inside you, and he squeezed around your neck firmly, “You only learned that right now?” His tone was sharp, and you smirked, unable to stop yourself. Teasing him was too fun, even when you didn’t intend to do it, and having him all over you was the sweetest of rewards. He leaned over your lips, brushing them, “Such a smart ass you are.”

“You love it,” you bit back when he didn’t let you finally kiss him.

Your heart was confused between submitting to him or taunting him again, especially seeing how shaky and overheated you were, but then the world plunged. The elevator started going down and the sweats down your spine went from molting hot to freezing cold. You glanced at the panel, same as him — the elevator had been called back to zero from the fourteenth floor, where you lived.

You looked at him, ready to rationally deal with the situation, but all you found was a challenge in those dark eyes. Your eyebrow quirked quizzically, and his fingers restarted moving ruthlessly, making you jolt against the wall in surprise.

“I guess you have to convince me you’ve learned your lesson fast.”

You widened your eyes, the hot and cold shivers clashing on your lower belly, confusing you, “What?”

“You heard me.”

His eyes were dark and intent, and you almost cursed a cry. That was the serious Taehyung eyeing you intently. He wouldn’t forgive you if you failed, and you were totally adrift. The pleasure was undeniable, but so were the chills down your spine.

He bit down your neck, pushing his fingers so hard at your core, the contrast almost gave you whiplash. You wanted to scream; everything was mixing inside you in a storm. A minute ago you would have jumped and came hard, but now, with every inch the elevator went down, fear was gripping your heart.

“Baby, wait— stop— we’ll get caught,” you pleaded. 

“I don’t care,” he pulled away to look into your eyes, and you fluttered around his fingers. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

His voice was softer now, as if he felt the same torment as you, and you were sure he did. He was still hard in your hand, reacting to your core around his fingers as though it was inevitable. So you sighed into his cheek, his scent bringing tears to your eyes still locked with his, sparkling the same as his. You belonged to him, always had, always would. You knew that, and he knew that, no matter how much you teased him about it. But you had never felt it so intensely, in your spirit, in your soul, in your bones. So owned, both in pleasure and otherwise. And safe. Even if that elevator reached zero and the doors opened, he would love you unconditionally always. Your love was undeniable, even when faced with the possibility of getting caught. Even if it would ruin your life, your career, or affect his. There was only the truth, and you wouldn’t keep it from him.

“I love you,” you said, and for a moment he thought you were still being defiant. “I love you, I belong to you, I’m yours. I want you to hold me for the rest of my life. No one but you will ever touch me, I love you so much—” Your voice wavered, and he instantly pressed his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that had a tear running down your cheek. As soon as he moved away, you still managed, “I don’t care about anything else.” His hand moved from your neck to your hair, holding your head up, so your glistening eyes didn’t hide. “I just want to be with you forever—”

His lips smashed yours while his hand darted from your hair to the stop button, making the elevator shake to a halt. Then he pressed your floor again, and as the elevator went up, so did you. His tongue was inside your mouth, showing as much desire and desperation as yours, while his hand restarted fingering you roughly. Only this time, it seemed like you were a firework ready to blast once the fuse ended, and you wanted it. You fisted him harshly too, your hand so wet you doubted if he hadn’t come already, but by his ruts, you knew he hadn’t.

You thought you were set to come with him when the elevator stopped, but as it stilled, so did Taehyung. He gave you a last kiss, took his hand out of you, and pulled your hand from inside his pants. The doors opened, so you thought you’d make your way to your apartment and finish things there, but he stopped you.

Right as you were passing the doors, he grabbed your arm and pushed you against the frame where the elevator doors had retracted into. He spread your legs with his so that one was outside, on your floor, while the other stayed in.

You sighed, “Tae?”

He pulled your hair to the side and kissed your neck, then glued your ass to his crotch. You both groaned with his hard cock rubbing at you teasingly, and he pressed himself fully to you, groping your tits harshly, “We’re not done yet.”

He sounded frantic as he kissed down your neck, squeezing and rutting into you so hard, you wondered why he wasn’t inside you already.

You raised your head to tell him that when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, through the elevator mirror. He had his eyes closed, lost in kissing every inch of your skin he could, while he used one hand to release himself. You moaned just at the sight of his juicy hard cock, and closed your eyes in anticipation while you felt him fumbling with your dress and underwear until the tip was pressed to your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, teasing you both while he got coated, and you only ground back into him.

He sounded desperate, but so were you, and nothing would stand in the way of feeling him again, of being part of him, loved by him, and used by him.

Your nails scratched the metal door frame, and you almost cursed and begged for him, but soon he was pushing himself inside you, and you groaned. He pushed further and further, giving you time to clench and feel the sting, adjusting to his girth, before finally tucking himself fully in, raw in your wet, soothing embrace. He tried bucking his hips, and you instantly keened, letting the stretch reminding you of how amazingly fulfilling it was to have your love inside you.

He didn’t wait a second to start fucking you in a demanding rhythm, grasping you by your hips, then waist, then chest, shoulders, neck, and even hair. His hips were ruthless, smacking into yours to fill you up every time, and you could feel yourself dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t stop moaning, and you didn’t stifle those down either, so drunk on him that someone could have showed and found you, and you wouldn’t have even noticed. All you wanted was the smack of his hips against your ass, the blunt shove of his cock inside you, pushing and dragging against your walls, poking you inside, turning your body into nothing but pleasure.

He leaned closer, changing the angle to hit your g-spot in a way that stole your breath, but not more than the words he grunted into your ear, “I love you so much. I fucking want you, you’re mine.”

You were ready to cry your love too, but then your eyes met through the mirror and the hint of anxiety in his hurt you deeply. His eyes quickly softened with his affection for you, but your heart couldn’t forget it. Teasing him was one thing, another was to actually hurt him or make him insecure about you.

“I’m yours,” you tried, though your voice was hardly your own with each moan. “Tae— I’m—”

His fingers had gone around your waist to rub your clit, and talking became nearly impossible. “I’m here, baby. I got you,” his voice was a groan. He was tucked so deep inside you that you knew he was holding his orgasm back. “I’m waiting for you,” he nuzzled your neck, and your eyes rolled back. “From the moment I met you, I’ll never stop— Never give up—”

Something in your lower stomach was about to explode, overheating you to the point you couldn’t breathe, until you snapped. You bucked your hips deeper, feeling the burst of your orgasm imminent, and you screamed. His fingers were the perfect push, and your core throbbed, sucking and pumping his pleasure out of him. He groaned into your neck, pressing you by your mound to sink on his cock as deeply as possible, and your nails scrapped the metal frame. His cock twitching deep inside you increased your sensitivity to the point that tears fell down your cheeks, despite the absolute bliss lighting up your body. The way he swayed his hips to jerk the last drops inside you, then pressed you closer to stay inside you and all around you, made you shake with a sob. That was how he loved you, attentively, completely, unconditionally. And you had stupidly hurt him.

“I love you,” he whispered incessantly as he held you and pecked your salty skin. “You’re everything to me, I never loved anyone like this.” You shook with a sob and his tone changed to worry, “Did I hurt you? Are you nervous?” He rubbed your hands and let you come further back into his protective embrace, “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t ever let them catch us, I’d never risk your safety like that.”

You knew that, and it somehow hurt you more — that he’d do everything to protect you while you so childishly hurt him.

“I— I’m sorry,” you tried your best to stop your bawling. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or suggest that I’d ever want anyone else, I— I love you!”

He held you even harder, knowing you need that, “I know, I’m not mad. I was… worried he’d impose himself or something.”

“Jungwoo… He wouldn’t,” you sniffled, and before Taehyung had time to let his jealousy resurface, you continued, “I told him— I told Jungwoo I have someone. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said instantly, nuzzling your cheek with a half hidden smile. “I don’t mind.”

You nodded, still sniffling and cleaning your face, but relieved with his kisses and snuggles. Then you pulled your hair away from your face, and brushed the back of your knuckles to his cheeky smile, “Let’s go home.”

[luveline]

hi sweetie !!! I know you get a billion requests but if u have time maybe an eddie fluff with the reader trying to get out of a postpartum depression slump and hes taking care of her :3 as always no pressure ily!

hi lovely ily, ty for requesting ♡ 1.2k

cw reader has postpartum depression

"Aw, sweetheart," Eddie mumbles. 

You hear it through your tired haze, rubbing sleep from your eyes as your turn toward him and his shuffling. He's unexpectedly on the bedroom floor, the baby laid out on a changing matt. Your lips quirk into a smile as you watch him button a fresh baby grow closed around your son's tiny tummy. 

"You're so well behaved," Eddie continues, still mumbling, hand careful as it slides behind the baby's head. "There we go. Fresh as a daisy." 

You clear your throat and stretch against a cruel knot hiding between shoulder blades. "You okay?" you ask. 

Eddie looks at you like you've just asked him to marry you, love lining every feature. "I'm okay, are you okay? You were frowning in your sleep. Bad dreams?" 

"I can't remember." You try not to lose your small smile as you hold out your hands for the baby. 

You love your baby. That's not up for debate. But whenever you hold him, you feel like you should be happier. That turns to guilt, self-loathing —this has all been so hard. You knew it would be, but it doesn't matter how prepared you are. This is brain chemistry you can't fight. 

Eddie sits on the side of the bed and passes the baby to you carefully. You're relieved to find you missed him, tucking him with love against your chest. "Hi, beautiful. Hi." 

He's still so small, shiny with newness, his lips parted to show the pink of his tongue. You laugh under your breath, brushing the side of your hand along his cheek. 

"Did you, um… did you put the ointment on his rash?" you ask, leaning down to kiss the baby's forehead. "On his tummy?" 

"Yeah, I did." 

You nod and kiss the baby's head again quickly. "Okay, perfect. Will you take him back? Just so I can get up?" 

You have to start the day to avoid falling hard into the slump. Eddie takes him with no qualms. You worry he's held more by his father than you, and there's nothing wrong with that, but he's your baby, you just spent nine months baking him, nine whole months waiting for these moments. 

Eddie hugs the baby to his chest and pulls the sheets over both of them. He looks better kept than you even though he's been picking up your slack without complaint, hair clean and out of his face, fresh clothes to match the baby, a black Iron Maiden t-shirt unmarred by spit up and a pair of pyjamas pants you're pretty sure were yours once upon a time. They don't fit him right and he clearly doesn't care. He's good like that; he's obsessed with being close to you. 

Your depression postpartum has wedged him away. Not his fault, not yours, and not fair. You're gonna have to try as hard as you can to beat it, and hope against hope that it's enough. 

"I set some clothes out for you," Eddie says gently, stroking the baby's hair. "And a towel if you want to shower, but you don't need to. You should be okay until tonight." 

"You didn't have to," you say. Your throat feels peculiarly tight. 

"Yeah, I did. I know it's overwhelming in the morning for you. I thought the clothes would be one less thing." 

You nod hurriedly and turn away from him to change. You can feel his gaze as you step out of your pyjamas and into new sweatpants, the weight of his concern palpable. It's easier to talk about things when you aren't looking at them both, so you say, "I'm sorry you're doing all of this." 

"That's okay, it's not something you need to be sorry for." 

"No, because it's not fair. You're looking after two people." 

"That's what I signed up for. It's literally my job." You seize at the sound of the baby gurgling and whimpering, but Eddie pats his back, and the grizzling fades. "Sweetheart… would you come over here? Let me tell you to your face." 

That doesn't exactly inspire confidence, but you pull on the clean shirt Eddie's left on the dresser for you and sit with him as he asked. Only when he smiles at your chest do you realise it's the stupid gimmick shirt he got for you on your first anniversary. My boyfriend loves me more than yours does, it reads, big black font with a red heart behind boyfriend. 

Eddie holds out his hand, squeezing your fingers together slowly, as though he's collected them in his palm. His thumb rubs a dedicated line over your knuckles; you're surprised your skin doesn't show evidence of his touch, he strokes this path so often. 

"I'm not sorry that I've been taking care of you since he was born, and you shouldn't be either." He says it straight and fast, no hesitation, and no room for argument. "Understand? This isn't about me. This is about how you feel." 

"Don't be all serious with me," you plead in a murmur, eyes at his collar. 

"If you don't want me to be serious then I won't be. Regular viewing henceforth. But don't forget what I just said. Promise?" 

"Yeah, promise." You reach out to twist the baby's hair around your fingertip, smiling when he shivers, tickled by your touch. He's a beautiful kid. Your partner stamped him well. All your awful feelings aren't anything to do with him, though his birth was undoubtedly the tipping point. He hasn't done anything wrong, this fog of melancholy hangs around no matter how beautiful he is, and you can't help hating yourself for the way you feel. "He's perfect," you whisper, eyes aching with the want to cry. 

"You did a great job," Eddie says agreeably, pushing his fingers between yours to intertwine your hands. 

"Do you think he knows I really do love him?" You can barely hear yourself. It's a miracle that Eddie can respond. 

"Undeniably. Sweetheart, I know there have been days where you didn't hold him, and that's not good for either of you, I can't lie to you and tell you it doesn't affect him, but it's not your fault. It just isn't. You're gonna keep trying and I'm gonna keep making sure you can, and things will get better. I swear to you." 

You feel as though you'd happily fall into a pit, but with Eddie sworn to take care of you, and the world's prettiest baby in his arms, you force yourself to sit beside him in bed. It's easy to soak in the heat of him as he wraps and arm around you, and easier to take the baby from his arms when the crying begins. 

"Don't feel guilty, but he misses you," Eddie says, covering your hand where it holds the baby's back. "He's happy to see you, look." 

The baby looks like a baby. It's hard to say that he's smiling, but there is something there. Love in his little eyes. You manage to smile for real this time, toying with his tiny hand, swiftly on your way to joyous as he wraps his fingers around your index. 

"You're doing so well," Eddie praises, his hair brushing your ear as he ducks in to kiss your cheek. 

"I think I'm feeling a bit better." 

"Good. One step closer to taking over the world." 

Eddie climbs out of bed with a mission to gather your meds and a quick breakfast. You stay in bed with the baby, holding him. Eddie's made it so that it's the only thing you have to do.