#to all my followers here for little nightmares: i am so sorry

[sixsthemeii]

welcome to hell, sunshine

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Dirty Laundry

Summary: Life with two toddlers has taken a toll on your sex life for the past few weeks, but after a surprisingly calm morning, you and Javi find a creative solution to solve your problem.

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) vaginal fingering, paise kink, a breeding kink so dangerous that you may get pregnant just from reading, creampie, cum play, a loud washer and dryer, no actual laundry accomplished, domestic girl dad Javi, you'll always be famous

A/N: idk who unlocked my cell while I was ovulating, but once again I have escaped, and once again, we're makin' babies. I think I've convinced myself I don't know how to write anything else, and for that, I am genuinely sorry. If wanting to give Javier Peña a football team worth of kids is a crime, then lock me up and throw away the goddamn key 🤠

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

For as much as you loved your daughters, it was safe to say that for the past two weeks, your pair of rambunctious toddlers had been doing very little for your sex life. 

Your 4 year old Lucy had been going through a phase of having nightmares every night, and somehow ending up in you and Javi’s bed no matter what you tried. That, combined with trying to potty train your 2 year old, Elliot, (who was nowhere close to being the breeze her older sister it was when it came to the matter), on top of preschool, work, and life in general, you and Javi had barely gotten so much as a kiss in, let alone some quality time together. 

It had been your hope to start trying for baby number three, but after 2 months of negative pregnancy tests and another month of complete chaos, despite your best intentions, “trying” had very much taken a backseat in your mental to-do list.  

But this morning when you woke up, it was almost as if a wave of calm had washed over your house to reset the state of disarray you had been in the past few weeks- Both girls had slept through the night in their own beds, had woken up in good spirits, Elliot asked to use the bathroom multiple times, and both had been happy to play in the living room together quietly as you worked on catching up on some much needed laundry. 

So calm, in fact, that Javi was almost worried when he came downstairs for work to hear near silence, apart from the occasional giggles from the girls as they arranged their Fisher Price Little People in their Play Barn and the washer running in the background. 

“Hi Daddy!” Lucy cooed, toddling over to her dad, wrapping her arms around his waist as Elliot quickly followed behind, perching on his leg like a koala. 

“Buenos días, niñas. (Good morning, girls).” Javi grinned, squatting down to kiss the wild, sleepy curls of his daughters’ heads, still slightly confused by the tranquil state of the house. “Where’s Momma?” 

“Washing stinky socks.” Lucy giggled, pinching her nose and scrunching her face, pretending to have smelled something bad. 

“Yeah, stinky socks.” Elliot echoed, sticking out her tongue. 

“Oh yeah? Is it because my pollitas (little chickens) have stinky, smelly feet?” Javi teased, wrapping his arms around the girls, pulling them close to his chest as he tickled their sides, the three erupting in laughter and giggles. 

“What’s goin’ on out here, huh?” You grinned, stepping out of the laundry room with your arms playfully crossed against your chest to see your husband and daughters in a tickle tackle pile on the living room floor. 

“Daddy said we have stinky feet! Daddy’s got stinky feet, not me and Elliot.” Lucy protested. 

“I think you and Daddy both have stinky feet, Lucy Lu, and your dirty laundry proves it.” You smiled, watching Javi give one last big kiss to each of the girls before pushing up off the floor with a grunt, making his way over to you. “Good morning, Mr. Stinky Feet.” 

“Hey, c’mon now. I can’t have you all gangin’ up on me.” Javi pouted through his smirk, wrapping his arm around your waist as his lips softly met yours, his words sweet and low as they danced against your skin. “Good morning, Hermosa.” 

His kiss lingered just long enough to send butterflies swirling through your stomach, biting down on your lip to try and keep your heart beating any faster than it already was. You stood there for another moment, eyes locking with his as the grip around your waist tightened just subtly enough to hint his mind was in the same place as yours. 

You were finding a way to finally have sex this morning. 

You could feel the arousal already beginning to pool in your core, swallowing hard as Javi tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at you while his hand slid further down your waist towards your ass, trying to devise a plan for the two of you to be alone long enough to do what you had both been so desperately craving these past few weeks. 

As you turned your head back over your shoulder in search of ideas, a devilish grin spread across your face, looking back to Javi to gently tug on the maroon tie dangling from his neck, twisting the end through your fingers. 

“I think I really need help with the laundry before you leave for work.” You mewled, leaning in to press another kiss to his plush lips, followed by another on his cheek and neck, Javi letting a soft groan rumble in his chest. 

“Oh Fuck, baby. What do we do about the girls?” He asked quietly, trying his best to keep his composure as the dark brown of his eyes grew hungrier with want. 

“Snack and a movie? There’s already a baby monitor out in the living room, and if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, it should buy us enough time.” You nodded in reassurance of your own idea, already growing antsy with anticipation. 

“God, I love you.” Javi smirked, giving you one more kiss and a firm squeeze of your ass before breaking away towards the kitchen so you could execute your plan. 

“Hey girls?” you called, making your way towards the living room where they were back to playing, “Daddy needs to help Mommy with some, um- laundry. So if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, can you show us what big girls you are and let you watch the movie all by yourselves?” You asked, doing your best to play up your request. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” Elliot squealed, clapping and stomping her feet. “Wittle Mermaid!” 

“Okay, go get your blankets and sit on the couch and Daddy’s gonna bring you a snack to watch the movie with.” 

“Yay! Movie time, movie time!” Lucy shrieked as the girls ran to go grab their things, plopping themselves on to the respective corners of the couch. While you searched for the VHS in the entertainment center, Javi returned from the kitchen with two much bigger than needed bowls of Teddy Grahams, turning on the TV as you pushed the tape into the receiver and pressed play. 

With the bright blue Disney logo appearing across the screen and your daughters both happily snuggled with their snacks on the sofa, you and Javi gave each other the silent nod of approval, slowly backing away towards the laundry room while the girls sat in content and entranced silence. 

After one last peek, you carefully closed and locked the laundry room door behind you, quickly followed by turning on both the washing machine and the dryer, trying to do yourself any favors you could by drowning out any suspicious sounds.  

“Good?” Javi asked once more for reassurance, feeling his slacks get tighter and tighter around his crotch by the second as he waited for your response. 

Without a single word, your lips were crashing into his, a messy dance of tongues and teeth ensuing between you as your bodies bumped against the laundry room counter, limbs tangled together in a frantic race to remove clothes. 

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed this.” Javi groaned, helping you slide your top over your head and unclip your bra as he nipped at your neck, pushing your back against the dryer and caging your body under him. 

“I know, baby, me t-too.” You whimpered, reaching out to undo Javi’s belt buckle, shoving his pants down to his thighs, followed by his boxers, freeing his cock as it slapped against the dark hairs on the happy trail of his stomach. “Missed having your big dick inside me.” 

“Fuck.” Javi swore under his breath as you reached out to stroke him, swiping your thumb over his weeping tip to rub the precum up and down his shaft as he shoved your the waistband of your pants and underwear down your hips just far enough to let them fall to the floor around your ankles. 

As much as you both desperately wanted to take your time, worshiping every inch of each other’s bodies until you had nothing left to give, you knew time was not on your side. After a few more strokes, you pulled back, letting Javi snake his hand against your body to slide between your legs, the slightest graze of his fingertips already making you shutter with need. 

At this point, even after the few weeks it had been without Javi inside you, you were wet enough that you could have taken him without any warm up, your core dripping with your arousal to the point it was smearing the inside of your thighs with its shiny coating. But even with your cunt soaking wet and time working against you, Javi couldn’t help but drag his fingers through your folds, curling to push up into your tight hole and prod against your g-spot. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so wet. This all for me, Momma? Missed me fillin’ you up with my cock? Missed me fucking you full of my cum, huh baby?” Javi growled, his words shooting straight to your cunt, making you clamp down tighter around his fingers and your clit throb with intensity.  

It had been a minute since baby making had been at the forefront of your mind, but his question set off something animalistic in the both of you, knowing that right now could give you a chance at baby number three that you had been wishing for. 

“Y-yes, Javi, fuck- want you to fill me up, baby. Want you to fill me up until you fuck a baby into me.” 

It was then that Javi couldn’t have been more thankful that you had turned on the washer and dryer to try and drown out your noise, because the groan he let escape from his parted lips was much louder than he intended. 

But then again, there were few things in this world that turned him on more than you begging him to knock you up, so what did he expect? 

Scooping his arms under your thighs, Javi hoisted you on top of the dryer, your ass hitting the cold, vibrating metal with a thud as your lips collided again with desperate ferocity, muffled moans escaping from your mouths. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl. Want me to knock you up again, Momma? Give you another baby?” Javi smirked, reaching to line his cock up with your entrance, swiping his tip through your folds to collect your slick and coat it along his length before he pushed inside you, sinking deeper and deeper until he bottomed out, hips flush with yours. 

Words couldn’t describe how much you had missed the sweet stretch and sting of Javi’s fullness, each inch of him feeling better than the last, sobbing out as his tip kissed your cervix, all inhibitions of self-composure completely tossed out the window. Still sunk deep in your cunt, Javi’s hand shot over your mouth, stifling your cries in his palm. 

“Shhhhhh, I know, Osita. You gotta keep quiet though, baby.” 

You nodded frantically in compliance, Javi’s hand dropping to grip around your waist as you tried to catch your breath. “M-move, Javi, please.” Your whimpering request borderlining pathetic with how badly you needed him. 

“You promise you’re gonna be a good girl and keep quiet?” 

“Mhmmmm. I promise, baby, please.” 

With that, Javi’s hips began to snap, dragging his cock in and out of you at a dangerous pace, coating the walls with the sounds of the wet sounds of your cunt and slapping skin, muffled by the washer and dryer. 

“Oh my God, Javi. Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, locking your legs behind the small of Javi’s back, keeping him as close to you as possible as he fucked in and out of you. You draped your arms around his shoulders, fingers burying themselves in the dark curls at the nape of his neck. 

The closeness had the hairs at the base of his cock rubbing deliciously against your clit, adding to the tension beginning to build at the base of your spine, both of you knowing it wouldn’t take long to get where you needed to go after weeks without being able to have each other like this. 

Javi could feel it too, his balls beginning to tense with each pump, using every ounce of self control to keep from preemptively spilling into you, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, holding on to you like his life depended on it. 

“Jesus, Fuck- Fuck, I missed this tight little pussy so much. Gonna cum so deep inside you. So deep it’s gotta fucking take. God, you’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant. I swear I’ll give you as many babies as you want, Hermosa.” Javi babbled, biting down on his lip as he pounded into you, reaching one of his hands down to circle at your wet, puffy clit, aching to be relieved from all the built up tension. 

At this point, you were so drunk on pleasure that you could barely remember your own name, feeling your orgasm begin to build through every inch of your body in a way that had you seeing stars, digging your fingernails into Javi’s shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out his name, forcing yourself to whisper incoherent sweet nothings against his skin. 

“P-please, Javi. F-fill me up. Oh shit- Fuck, baby, I’m so close.” 

Javi’s thrusts became sloppier and more erratic, fingers rubbing your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to coax your orgasm out of you before he followed suit, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow in intense concentration. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over me. Soak my fucking cock before I fuck you full of me and knock you up. C’mon, Momma.” 

Suddenly, your orgasm crashed through you, lighting your body up like a goddamn Christmas tree, every inch of your body radiating with bliss as you clamped down around Javi’s cock, biting down on his shoulder as you came to try and stifle your cries. 

Javi was only moments behind you, letting out a low grunt with the final sutter of his hips as he came, coating your walls with his warm spend, fucking it into with every ounce he had left until he had milked himself dry. 

Your bodies collapsed into each other, rising and falling in sync with heavy breaths like you had just finished the last mile of a marathon and collapsed at the finish line, damp and sticky with your sweat. 

As much as Javi didn’t want to pull out, he could feel his cock beginning to soften and the mixture of your spend leaking from your hole. Refusing to let a drop go to waste, he pulled out of you, a groan rumbling low in his chest as he wrapped his hand around his length, dragging his tip up through your folds and collecting the cum that had been dripping out. Taking the wet mess he had gathered with his cock, he pushed himself back into you, slowly thrusting in and out of you, a devilish smirk spreading across his face at the absolutely obscene sound coming from between your legs. 

“Promise me,” Javi gulped between pants, finally pulling out of you again, “Promise we never go this long without having sex again. Holy Fuck.” 

“Promise.” You couldn’t help but giggle in agreement, coming down from your blissed out high. “God, that was the longest two weeks ever. Don’t know why we didn’t think of this sooner.” 

“Because we’ve been sleep deprived and exhausted, and our little monstros (monsters) have been giving us a run for our money.” Javi chuckled, reaching behind you to grab a towel from the cabinet above the dryer, quickly rinsing it in the sink before wiping you up and helping you find all of your clothes. 

“Are we crazy for wanting another one?” You asked, looking down at your stomach, thinking about the ramifications of what you had just done. 

“Maybe. But you drive me so fucking crazy, we may end up with 10 before you know it.” 

“Javi! Dear lord, we are not having 10 kids, you psycho.” You laughed, playfully slapping your husband on the shoulder. 

“Stop being so hot and I’ll stop knockin’ you up.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing damn well you’d have a whole army of his kids if he really wanted. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. Alright, you need to get your ass to work and I need to feed the gremlins before I drop Lucy off at preschool. Let���s go, cowboy.” You grinned, playfully smacking Javi on the ass, giving him a quick kiss as you made your way towards the door. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Osita. I gotta remember to call my dad on the way into work.” 

“Call your dad? Why?” 

“To see if Abuelo can take the girls this weekend so you and I can catch up on a lot of laundry.” 

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @purpleprincess75 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

@purpleprincess75

[mattybsgroupie]

sleepover | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); thigh riding (f); p in v; creampie; mommy kink; sub!matt

- ♡ -

notes: i wrote two dom!matt fics in a row i do not recognize myself. back to the sub!matt agenda, somebody has got to do it, i am the chosen one!!! (please it’s a trump meme) this is a silly little one i wrote cuz i’ve been dreaming some weird things these last few days and i’d very much like to fuck matt afterwards. not proofread but hope you enjoy it. always so thankful for every like, comment, reblog and follow, love y’all sm ♡ btw next week i might post a chris request i got idkkk

- ♡ -

i woke up out of breath, sweat dripping from my forehead as i tried to calm down. it was a nightmare - a terrible one, where i no longer had matt and no matter how much i’d scream, my voice wouldn’t come out. my phone buzzed, the screen lighting up the ceiling and part of my room. it was 3am.

i reached for the nightstand, first taking a sip of water and then grabbing my cellphone, checking my notifications. i had one missed call from matt and two other messages, which only read “babe, you up?”

i felt as the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders, my chest gradually lowering as i got more relaxed. i smiled and speed dialed the first number on my list.

“why are you awake!” matt picked up in a surprised tone, not really waiting for my answer. “i just texted you, did you feel it coming or something?” he giggled.

“hi, babe” i said, my voice still shaky. “i just woke up, actually”

“what happened?” matt asked me once again, clearly concerned as he heard how i sounded. i gulped and gave a few taps on my chest as i rested my back on the headboard. “what is it, hm? bad dream?”

“uhum” i nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. he knew i’d soon be curled up between the sheets, trying to fall asleep again. “what about you babe? can't sleep?” i asked, already knowing the response.

matt sighed and i could picture him running his fingers through his hair, trying to not upset me “anxious”.

“i’m sorry to hear that, matty” i pouted from the other side of the screen. “do you wanna facetime?” i suggested what we had done plenty of times. we’d be facing each other, talking nonsense until one of us fall asleep - of course, when things didn’t take a turn to either matt’s or my own horniness.

“actually… was thinking about coming over” i smiled, but he couldn’t see it. he always made me feel like a teenage girl, changing the reason of my nervousness to something silly, like him coming over.

“no way, you’re not getting the road right now” i said, playing hard to get.

“what?” matt sounded confused. “why not?!”

“it’s late and i worry about you” i responded. “don’t you have something schedule for tomorrow?”

“i don’t give a fuck” matt said, “i wanna be with you right now, do you wanna be with me?” i nodded and as if he could see me from there, he continued. “please, mommy?”

“i’m waiting!” i jokingly hang up on him after gasping by the nickname, as if it was too bold of him to call me that.

- ♡ -

i heard three knocks on my bedroom door and didn’t bother getting up. i rolled myself on the bed, waiting for him to join me.

“did i take too long?” matt asked, biggest smile on his face. he locked the door and quickly came next to me, lying down by my side.

“yeah, you know mommy doesn’t like to wait” matt widened his eyes, gulping at my words, realizing what he had done over the phone.

“i just said that so you could let me come over” he said, acting tough as he rolled his eyes before resting his head above my chest, snuggling into me.

“oh, that’s too bad” i pouted, my fingers running through his hair. “you got me all worked up…”

matt quickly raised his head, blue eyes staring at me in surprise, grin growing on his face. “did i? really?”

“of course, my good boy always gets me going” i teased, matt’s cheeks turning red. “why? you came here to sleep?”

“i mean” he started, grabbing my waist, turning my body over and changing our positions. he was now under me, his hands resting on my hips while i adjusted myself in order to get comfortable on his lap. “not anymore”.

matt leaned in for a kiss, holding the back of my head and bringing us closer. i could feel his beard slightly tickling my face as he deepened the pressure of his lips against mine, silently asking to go further by sticking his tongue and teasing me. i opened my mouth and matt’s tongue quickly slid in, the wet sounds taking over my darkened room.

one of matt's hand moved to my breasts, massaging it over the shirt. i gasped for the sudden contact, pulling away from the kiss, which led him to go to my neck instead. he trailed his lips down, altering between biting and licking my skin. my hands went to his hair once again, tangling my fingers on his curls.

matt lowered his head and stopped right above my nipple before looking at me with needy puppy eyes. i nodded vigorously, but instead of removing my shirt, matt hid his face underneath it, streching the cloth in order to fit inside. i felt his wet tongue teasing my nub and since i could no longer pull his hair, i rested my hands on his bare thighs. as matt started to swril his tongue, i threw my head back and couldn't help but start to move my hips forward, trying to get some friction to my already wet pussy.

i let out a moan when his free went to my other boob, his thumb circling the hardened nub that poked through the shirt. i wanted to look at him - wanted to see how his beard looked like rubbing against my skin, which color the hickeys he left would be, how much would the saliva run down my torso.

with my eyes closed and feeling matt sucking my tits, i tried to touch the hem of my shirt in order to remove it, i couldn't stand one more second without looking at his eyes again - however, my palm met something harder, covered by a soft fabric. i groped his shaft and received a muffled moan from matt, still busy in my tits. now with my eyes open i could finally take my clothes off, revealing matt with his messy hair, beard wet from rubbing his face against his own kisses, lips swollen.

“look at me baby” i called and carressed his cheek, “you said you wanted to sleepover and now look at you, already a mess for mommy...”

“i'm s-sorry, mommy” he started, “can't help it, you taste so good”.

“yeah? did you miss me?” i teased, starting to drag myself over his thigh once again. “we saw each other two days ago”

“it's too much” matt complained, hands going to my hips, helping me set a proper pace. “needy again”, he glanced at tent on his shorts, where my palm rested.

“is mommy's baby needy?” i almost mocked him and he nodded pathetically, but still not letting me take full control as he started to pump his legs' muscles, making my pussy clench. i opened my mouth, but nothing came out of it. matt's grip tighetned and he forced my body down, completely leading my movements.

“mommy seems needy as well” matt spoke, smashing his lips against mine. i let out a frustrated whine, wanting to feel more - i needed him inside of me. “aren't you?”

“yes- fuck” i said, trying to come back to my senses regain control of the situation “babe, be a good boy for me hm?"”

when i finally stroked matt's boner, his hands rapdly went to my ass, both palms groping it harshly as i entered inside his pants. i wrapped my fingers around his aching cock, and being the good boy he was, matt lifted up his hips, allowing me to pull down his shorts and reveal his hardened dick. he touched my waistband in response, silently asking if he could do the same to me. i mimicked his moves, letting the fabric slide down my legs.

“thought i had told you to not wear panties to bed” he said, pulling the strings of my underwear. “isn't mommy supposed to be good as well?” matt was driving me crazy with all the teasing.

i suddenly started to move my fist up and down, quickly jerking him off. matt was used with me starting slow and building up his excitement until he climaxed. but tonight, it didn't seem like he wanted to be treated kindly. matt threw his head back and closed his eyes, groaning loudly “f-fuck!”

i brushed my thumb over his tip, matt’s body immediately reacting, jointing his hips forward into my fist. i dragged my finger on his slit as matt’s nails dig into my skin, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft. his breathing got heavier, chest rising and falling quickly while he bit every inch of skin he could reach.

“not talking back anymore?” i asked, gradually stopping my motions, receiving a groan in response.

“mommy, don’t be mean” he pleaded as his sneaky fingers made their way to my entrance, pulling my panties to the side. he kissed my neck, making my eyes roll as i melted into his touch.

“matthew” i caught his attention since i didn’t really use his full name often. “stopping teasing so fucking much and just fucking say it”. he widened his eyes before letting the grin grow wide on his face.

“please, please, please” he said, “ride me, momma”i immediately got out of his thigh, adjusting myself to be in between his legs. i could feel matt’s cock being lazily dragged against my now bare pussy, panties removed as soon as i got up.

i lowered myself on his shaft, nearing my throbbing cunt to his leaking tip. both of my hands went to matt’s shoulders, looking for balance as his grabbed my hips, helping me fully sit on his length. matt’s dick was huge, stretching my walls as he hid his face on the crook of my neck, tickling beard making me giggle as i tried to adjust myself to his size.

“wasn’t so hard, was it?” i asked, getting comfortable to move my hips up. as i started riding, matt wouldn’t say a word, only muffling moans in my ear. he denied with his head, whining as i fastened my pace.

“c-close” he said, gripping tighter. “mommy- fuck”

“hold for me baby” i spoke, already out of breath, bouncing harder on his dick. matt decided to stick his face on my boobs and dragged his tongue along my skin, biting my nipple and holding me by my waist, jointing his hips forward in order to reach his high quicker.

“yes baby, just like that” i praised, matt now pounding mindlessly into me. “good boy, good boy” and that’s what took for him to snap, groaning loudly as his cock twitched and he released the knot on his lower belly, spurts of his warm cum filling my insides.

his spasms brought me closer to the edge, but i wouldn’t stop riding him. i kept on bouncing on his cock, now in search of my own climax. “mommy- mommy, fuck!” matt cried from the overstimulation. his whimpers got louder and so did my moans as my orgasm washed over me, mouth hanging open with my trembling body as i came over matt’s shaft.

i was too tired to remove myself, letting my weight fall over him. matt rolled us over, both of us laying in my bed. he turned to the side and pulled out, the mix of our realeases running down my legs and staining my sheets. matt let out a chuckle as he wrapped his arms around me, bringing me closer to his chest.

“should we sleep now?” i asked, running my fingers through his tummy.

“kid” he called, pointing to my bedroom widow. “the sun is already up” he spoke - as if this was gonna stop us from sleeping till noon. “but that’s why i came here, right? sleepover”

“of course, you’re always so clever” i rolled my eyes and giggled, allowing my body to relax next to his. i closed my eyes and knew that, while matt was around, the bad dreams would no longer come.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattswhore-44 @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattttypooh @sturnsmia @sturnthepot

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.

OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy

****

The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.

It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.

And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.

You're realizing that you don't know him at all.

"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."

"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."

"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."

You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.

"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.

"Morocco."

"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.

"Ouch."

"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."

"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."

"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."

"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."

"Hood—"

He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.

"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."

"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."

"Is he also a crime lord?"

"Nah. Way better guy than me."

You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?

You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.

"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."

Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.

The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).

Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.

"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.

The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.

"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."

"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."

He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."

"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."

"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."

"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."

Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.

"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."

That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.

"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.

"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.

"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."

****

Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.

"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.

Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.

"I'm sure. Cute robe."

"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."

"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."

"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."

"Tempting."

You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"

"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.

"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble.

On your way to Hood's room, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.

Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.

You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.

"Did you get lost?"

Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.

"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."

"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."

"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.

Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.

"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.

"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"

You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"

"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."

"How did you call me out?"

He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."

"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."

"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"

You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."

"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."

"Like you?"

Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."

"And thank God for that."

You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.

"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."

"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."

"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."

"You flatterer."

You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."

You start to walk away.

"Do you—waffles?"

You stop and turn. "Sorry?"

"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.

"I love waffles for breakfast."

Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."

"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."

"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."

You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.

"Right. Well, goodnight," you say.

"G'night, smarty."

****

You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.

But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.

You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.

The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.

That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.

"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.

You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.

You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.

You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.

A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.

"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."

The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.

You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.

"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.

Your face screws up and you start to cry.

"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"

The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.

"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."

"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."

Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.

You clutch him tighter. He hums.

"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."

He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.

You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.

"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."

He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."

"You have a brother?"

"Four, actually. And a sister."

"Wow. Do they know you're...?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."

"Cool family."

Hood grunts. "They're... something."

You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."

"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."

You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.

"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.

You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."

"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."

Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.

"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.

He exhales like you punched the air out of him.

"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."

You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."

"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."

You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."

"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."

"Brave or stupid?" you ask.

"Brave. But it's a fine line."

Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.

What are you doing?

"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"

You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."

"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"

"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."

"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."

Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.

His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.

The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.

Your belly flutters. Fuck.

This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Hold me, Console me

Pairing; Logan x reader

C/w; hurt/comfort, fluff, Logan having nightmares

A/N; LOGAN HAS BEEN ON MY MINDDDD. Here’s a little mind dump for ya. Listen to “no one noticed” by the Marias because it’s literally the inspo for it!!!!

Tags; @pedroscurls

part 2 heheh

You and Logan were…different. He felt different with you, having all his walls broken down within weeks of meeting you; he never thought he’d feel so open again.

But there was something that always tugged at you. He leaves, during the night when you’ve dozed off into a deep sleep. He dozes off on the couch.

His groans and grunts when he has his nightmares was not unfamiliar to you and you wish you could help him through it but just won’t open up, won’t take down that last wall that you’ve been trying so hard to climb or break or just paw at.

He was having another one of those dreams- no nightmares, his past, dead faces everywhere. Flashes of the people he’s loved and lost; his mind mocking him with the fast forwarded slide show of all the horrible things that he’s endured. He doesn’t hear you at first. Your muffled pleas, calling his name.

Then he hears a desperate “Logan, please, wake up.”

And suddenly everything goes white. He takes deep breath through his mouth, sitting up on the leather couch suddenly. His claws come out in an instant as you jump back to avoid getting impaled, eyes wide.

His breathing is heavy- ragged, you were too close.

“Logan,” you crawl towards him, slow. A prey approaching its predator willingly.

He sheaths his claws in a blink, heels of his palms squeezing his eyes shut. A sharp, “no” is uttered before he’s reaching for his shirt and making a beeline for your door.

You run after him, blocking the door before he can reach the it.

“No, Logan! Not today,” your eyes are puffy, and pleading for him to stay. Just this once. “Please, stay”.

So fucking polite. He thinks. He could melt into you right then and there but he can’t. He can’t because he almost killed you. Almost hurt you.

You hurt her, like you hurt them. You hurt- you almost killed her. You killed them. You killed them. You killed her.

His face hardens at your plea but with one hand on his chest and a push, he can’t help but follow your orders.

“Baby…” He starts, choking back words, thinking in the fear of saying the wrong thing.

“Talk to me, Lo. You’ve been hiding here every night, in pain. I don’t like seeing you that way.” You sit him down on the plush yet worn out leather, sitting next to him. It groans under the weight of him and you as you let him sink further in.

He has half the mind and a full urge to pull you to your rightful seat on his lap, but he knows he can’t. Not right now.

“I can’t” his voice comes out shakier than he wanted it to. He doesn’t know what he can or can’t tell you. The horrors of his past have led him here, to you. Something he feels is permanent.

“You’ve endured a lot, life has given you too many hardships and I know it hasn’t been easy for you.” You say, reaching out your palm to wipe a stray tear away from his cheek, his beard tickling at your skin.

“But I want you to open up, please. Don’t like seeing you in pain, Lo.” You can feel your own tears running down your own cheeks.

He pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him as he wipes your tears away silently. Pressing his lips to your forehead, he apologises in silent whispers; “I’m sorry” a kiss on your temple, “I’m so” his lips move down to your left cheek, “so sorry” then to your right before landing onto your own lips. It’s tender, filled with a thousand apologies and a million ‘I am here for you’s. He loves you, he really does.

“It’ll take time, bub.” He pulls away, hands still caging your face, calloused thumb brushing against your bottom lip as you up at him.

“It’s okay, take your time,” you cup his palm into your own, bringing it to your lips, peppering sweet kisses in the inside of it. So sweet.

“I’ll wait forever, but not too long, yeah?”

If only. If only that forever was actually as long as the word implied.

Because the next morning, you don’t wake up in the arms of the love of your life. There is no trace of him besides the lingering scent of his cigar.

He left without a trace.

[todomochi-uwu]

Who (5/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

NOTES: This was a nightmare to write, between the holidays and writer’s block, I wanted to die. I hope you like it. If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee . I promise next chapter will contain SMUT, so beware of that.

“What are you doing, Y/n?” Said Yunho as soon as he dragged you out of the club.

“What are YOU doing, Yunho? How the fuck did you know I was here?” You stumbled backwards, anxiety and alcohol are not a good combo.

“I came to talk, Minho brought me here. I have spent every single day of the last three months trying to find and talk to you, and all this time you were doing this?” Hurt in his voice, his face red and eyes glossy. You examined him for a second, deep dark eyebags sunken his eyes, his lips cracked and pale, and his once broad chest now looked thinner, bony. He looked so different, you almost couldn’t recognize him.

“It’s not like that…” He cut you off.

“Then, how is it? Because to me it looked like you were making out with your so-called best friend. Explain it to me, Y/n.”

“I don’t have to explain shit to you.” You stomped, getting closer, “You have a lot of nerve coming in here and accusing me of anything,” You jabbed your finger against his chest again and again. “We are not together. You drove me away. You broke my heart.” Tears of anger streamed down your face, and your wounded heart disintegrated with each word.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, please come home with me, we can talk and…”

You turned around when you heard Han coming out of the club, Minho right behind him, following a very angry-looking Christopher.

“Bang Chan, calm down!” Said Minho.

“What are you doing here, Jeong?” Chan intervened, pushing you behind him.

“This doesn’t concern you, Chan. Please let me talk to her.” He tried going past Chris.

“Why don’t you leave her alone? She doesn’t want to see you. Fuck off.” Chan’s voice laced with venom, alcohol and rage ran through his veins, clouding his judgment.

“Chan.” The taller man tried again.

“Fuck you, Yunho. Where were you before when she needed you, huh?” Chris pushed the taller man, “Where were you when she spent every single night crying herself to sleep?” Push. “Where were you when she felt worthless?” Push.

“Chan, stop. You are drunk.” Han said.

“That’s right. You were not there, but guess who was? Me. I spent every single minute comforting her, reassuring her that it was not her fault, and helping her move on.”

“Oh, I am well aware of how much you would love for her to get over us, I’ve known it for a long time.” Yunho pushed back, “But I’ll be dead the day I let that happen.”

“Yunho, please stop.”

“I fucked up, okay? I’m not saying I didn’t, but I want to fix it. If I have to get on my knees I will, if I have to beg I will, whatever you want me to do I’ll do it. Please give me a chance.” Yunho said kneeling.

“Yunho.” You said in tears.

Chan scoffed, shaking his head, “Why should you get a second chance?”

Minho physically cringed, he knew it wasn’t about Yunho and Mingi getting a chance to redeem themselves, it was about Chan not getting the same opportunity.

“Chan, buddy, please back off.” He said while grabbing his friend by the shoulders.

Chan shook him off. He looked at you, “Y/n you know best. Please don’t go back to them.” He pleaded with what little strength he had left. But you could only see a begging Yunho on the floor, a mix of emotions reflected in your eyes, anger, fear, but on top of them was longing. He could feel his heart break all over again, he would never be at the receiving of those feelings. The door had closed a long time, and even if you didn’t know it, he did, it would never open again. He needed to get away from the scene. A knot forming in his throat, all his bottled-up love dying in his chest, he was going to throw up.

“Y/n, please come home, we can talk, we won't pressure you or anything, just please, please come home.” Yunho extended his hand your way.

You turned to look at Chan, but he no longer was there. You found Jisung’s eyes, looking for an answer in them. On one hand, your heart craved him, wanting nothing more than for him to take you in his arms. But then the more rational part of your brain reminded you of the hell you went through in the last months. Could you go back to them? And if not, could you live without them? Your best friend looked you in the eyes, worry and uncertainty filled them, but in the end, he simply nodded.

Yunho was waiting for you, silently begging for you to take his hand, to come back to them. And when you finally did, you could see the way his entire body relaxed, you couldn’t blame him, a part of you also felt at peace after all this time.

“This doesn’t mean we are back together; I hope you know that.” You whispered to him.

“I know.” He looked around for Minho, “We are taking a cab, I don’t want to bother you anymore.” He nodded back.

Jisung approached and gently embraced you in his arms. “Call me, okay?”

“Hannie, about Chan…” He cut you off.

“Don’t worry about him, we’ll take care of that.” He gave you a weak smile, before turning to his husband.

-------------------------------------------------------

Yunho opened the door as soon as the cab arrived, sat next to you and told the driver where to go. Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, sweaty hands gripped the ends of your skirt, and eyes that didn’t dare look away from the window.

“Are you cold?” He said, already taking his jacket off to give it to you.

“No, no, I’m okay.” Your brain made a connection a second later, “Wait, where’s…”

His phone went off like crazy, texts and calls showed up all at the same time, he pulled out of his pocket revealing the contact, “Shit.” He pressed to answer.

“Hey, Mingi, did you…” You could hear the exasperated voice of the younger man behind the phone, not being able to make out what he was saying.

“No, Mingi, I’m…” Cut off again.

“I know, but please…” Again.

“Will you …” And again.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. Oh, how you missed them.

“Mingi, will you please just shut up?” He whispered, “Listen, go home, I’m on my way there.”

Mumbling.

“You can leave, umm she’s, umm she’s with me.” He said as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

Mumbling.

“Go home, we’ll meet you there.” He hung up.

An uncomfortable silence filled the car, you didn’t know where to look, or what to do or say. Yunho was in a similar situation. Twice you caught him almost putting his hand on your knee, before remembering the situation you were in, muscle memory it must have been.

You knew the streets on your way to their place, left turn here, right turn there. A convenience store you used to walk to late at night to get ramen when you couldn't sleep. A dog park they swore you would go to with a new puppy when things “calmed down” at work. It made your heart sink to remember what you used to be, what you used to have.

So lost in your head, you didn’t notice the ride had ended, Yunho handed the driver some money and immediately took your hand, getting out of the car. The nerves getting worse each second, you could feel yourself shaking. The alcohol in your stomach bubbling threatening to make its way back up.

And then you saw Mingi.

He was sitting outside the door, his head between his knees, gently rocking himself back and forth, and you could hear some mumbling but couldn’t quite get what he was saying. He looked so small, so fragile, and while it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. Without thinking you approached him, kneeling by his side.

“Hello, Mingi.” You whispered.

He had been so into his thoughts he almost fell back when he heard you. His chest went up and down quickly, trying not to choke on the anxiety, his eyes doubting who they were seeing, but he tried to compose himself. “Hey, Y/n.” His hands shifted, but he tensed to prevent them from touching you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

A few moments went by, neither of you knowing what to say. “Why don’t we go in? We have a lot to talk about and it's freezing cold out here.” You had almost forgotten Yunho was also there.

“Okay.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Minho and Jisung didn’t have a clue what to say on the ride back home. Chan was in the backseat, His head resting against the window, small tears threatening to come out of his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them, not until he was sure no one would see him.

“Chan.” Jisung tried.

“Don’t, just don’t.”

“Chan, you know this is for the best. They need to solve whatever is going on…” Minho started but was quickly cut off by the older man.

“And you were so eager to help them do that, weren’t you?”

“Chan, that’s not…”

“Leave it alone, Minho. You’ve done enough.”

Jisung didn’t want to give up just yet, “Channie, please. Minho would never do anything to hurt you, but you know she’s still in love with them, and…”

“Don’t you think I know that? I have seen it every single day for the last few months. I have seen her cry every goddamn night because she missed them. I’ve seen her reading their conversations again and again. Hell, I have heard everything single fucking detail about those two, I did it then and I did it now. But tonight, for a single moment in almost six years, she didn’t think about them, she didn’t see them in me, it was only me and her. She kissed me. She wanted me. For once, she was mine again.”

Minho felt bad for what was about to come from his lips, but it needed to be done, “Then why did she leave with Yunho?” The car stopped.

And Chan got off, slamming the door on his way out.

-------------------------------------------------------

­The three of you were sitting on the floor of the living room. Yunho was leaning against an old couch Seonghwa had gifted you when you all moved in together. Mingi was next to a shabby coffee table you used to use as an “everything” table when you couldn’t afford anything else. You haven’t lived here in months, yet it still felt like home.

You had rehearsed thousands of times what you would say to them if you ever were in this situation. All the things that they did or said that made you die on the inside, you would cry and scream all you wanted and they would have to listen. You would tell Yunho how much you hated how cold he had turned. Tell Mingi how tired you were of him always coming home in a bad mood. Tell them how much you had missed them emotionally, and also physically, how they hadn’t stopped to look at you in months, let alone even touched you.

But as opposed to all the scenarios in your head, your mouth was dry.

“I’m sorry.” Mingi was the first who dared to speak, you wouldn’t have been able to hear him if you weren’t sitting next to him. “I’m so sorry about everything we did, I’m sorry for taking you for granted, I’m sorry about neglecting you, I’m sorry I was not there when you needed me, I’m sorry for not listening, I’m sorry for making you leave, I’m sorry for…” And so, the word vomit began, it came laced with months and months of tears Mingi didn’t know he had yet to spill.

“Okay, okay. Mingi, calm down.” You moved closer to him, wiping his cheeks.

“Nothing’s okay if you are not here, Y/n. I’m not okay if you are not here, Yunho is not either.” He pointed to Yunho.

You turned to look at the taller man, only to find him in an equal or worse state than the man in front of you, “I’m so sorry, my love.” He said between gasps.

Seeing them like this was enough to put you in the same state.

“I miss you so much, Y/n,” Yunho said while coming close to you. Both of them surrounded you, trapping you between their arms and sobs. “I’m sorry for being an asshole, for not making you my priority.”

“We will do anything, whatever you want you’ve got it, just please don’t leave again, please,” Mingi begged.

“Okay, let's talk, please?”

They both nodded and so the night began.

-------------------------------------------------------

“You have to talk to me about how you are feeling, you cannot bottle up and expect me to be okay with not knowing what’s going on in your life.” You said leaning against the couch, playing with Mingi’s fingers.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to trouble you.”

“It doesn’t bother me. Yeah, I may not know all those fancy law terms you and Jongho use all the time,” He giggled, “but I want to know if things are going well, if you are having trouble with a client or if you are stressed about a case, and not find out by Jongho calling me to tell me how much of an asshole you are being at work.”

He groaned, “That fucking brat always tells on me.”

“And you,” You looked at Yunho, “when are going to stop that childish rivalry with Minho? You are both grown adults, he’s married and you are engaged, for god’s sake.” You spoke without thinking.

“I’m still engaged?” He looked at you, a little smirk on his face.

“You know what I mean.” You nudged slightly. Mingi was looking at you with the same look on his face, making you blush deeply.

Between laughs and memories, Yunho’s bright look decomposed. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips tightened in a line, he straightened himself and cleared his throat, “There is one thing I want to talk about.”

Both of you looked at him.

“Back at the club, and I know I don’t have any kind of right to complain, but,” He gulped, “What is going on with Chan.”

Oh, right. That.

“Um…, I…, um…” Trying to find the right words. Mingi straightened himself, confused about what Yunho was talking about.

“We won’t be mad; I only want to know if something is going on.”

“Well, um…, Han noticed I was a little distracted tonight, he knew I was still thinking about you two. And until that point, I didn’t know if we were over for good. So…” You scratched your eyebrow, “he suggested it may be time to move on, and that Chan could help me with that.” You mumbled that last part.

Silence.

“I thought Jisung liked us,” Mingi said, trying to lighten up the situation.

“And he does, he was just trying to be a good friend to me.”

“Did something else happen?” Yunho said directly. He needed to know.

You shook your head, “No, it was barely even a kiss.”

“If I hadn’t been there to stop it, would it have turned into anything else?”

“Yunho.” Mingi tried to stop him.

“It’s not fair of you to ask me that.”

“So, it would have.”

“Yunho.” Mingi tried again.

“I don’t know, okay? I have no clue what would have happened.” Your voice escalated.

“Did you think about it?” He kept going.

“What?”

“Did you ever think about doing it? Tonight, or any other night?”

“Okay, that’s enough. You have no fucking right to reproach me for anything, we are not together.” You got up, needing to get away from him.

“I have spent every single night crying myself to sleep because you are not here, Y/n. It hasn't even crossed my mind to move on from you.” He stood up.

“Don’t act like I’m the one who fucked up like I cheated or something.” You grabbed your bag and pulled down your skirt, “This was a mistake, I never should have come here.”

That’s when Mingi saw red sirens in his head, “No, no Y/n, please. Yunho, calm down. Please, let’s calm down.” The poor thing was a mess.

“I’m not going to stay here to hear him accusing me of things that never happened.”

“Yunho’s sorry, tell her you didn’t mean it.”

Yunho’s shoulder slumped, defeated, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. It’s… When I saw you two, I thought I had lost you. I saw all my fears from back in college coming true.”

“What fears?”

He looked at Mingi, who only nodded back. “Back when we had just started dating, we were a bit worried you felt like this relationship was… too much. You would want something more conventional. A relationship where people wouldn’t turn their heads to know why three people are holding hands and kissing. Or one where you didn’t have to answer, how does it work? Over and over again.” His voice cracked at the end.

Mingi took over, “You never told us about Chan, we found out because Jisung talked about it once when he was drunk. We worried there was something else there, some unresolved feelings, I don’t know. And that someday you would go back to him. Throughout the years that fear dissolved, but when we knew you were staying with him. Well, we didn’t know what to think.”

“Whatever I had with Chan ended the day I met you, I’ve only wanted you since that night. Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“As you’ve seen, we are not the best at communication.” Yunho let out a nervous laugh. “I’m so sorry, for all the things I said. It wasn’t my place to ask.”

You got closer to him, “I’m sorry for getting so defensive.” You took his face in your hands, caressing his lip with your thumb, “I love you, Yunho.”

“I love you too.”

“And I love you.” You said taking Mingi’s hand in yours, “but I want you both to understand things are not completely okay because I’m here. I need to know what I’m getting myself into, I can’t go back to feeling like that. I need to be sure it won’t happen again, I get you both being busy, but neglecting me is a whole other story. We’ll go step by step, okay?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Mingi, we talked about going slow.”

“I know, I know. I can’t believe you are back here.” He leaned closer, “so, can I?”

And you may be aching,

“Yes, please.” You whispered against his lips.

But you were also weak.

____________________________________________

Taglist:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie @jeongwangjessmina @certifiedmoa @tenebrisirae @ddaeing @bratty-tingz @myshadowsbackstage @berryfiavoured @jkookiejiminlvr @yunsara @soobiverse @kyeos4ng @asjkdk @popcatx0 @yunho-leeknow @escape-from-realitys-stuff @thedistractedwriter @vsereniasstuff @sundayysunshine @queen-thiccness @toomuchtellyneck @daemon-bunny @hyuk4ngel @rxnexxi @daemon-bunny @toomuchtellyneck @queen-thiccness @queen-beanzzz @faesmingi @imcoenffl @fandom-freak-geek @sunnyhokyu @icouldntcareless22 @idfkeddieishot @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mellikestoread @harriy3nko @yvnhoos @shnstarlight

[romana-after-dark]

Dead Dove December 2023 Masterlist

Hello everyone!

So sorry it took forever to get this out, but it took me 5ever to read through these fics bc I was expresso depresso and working a lot LMFAOOOOOOO

Anyway, THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE ENTRIES!!! I adore you so so so so much. I am SO HAPPY with how this worked out and the amount of response! I hope to hold another event this March with @for-a-longlongtime at @triplefrontier-anniversary for the TF anniversary over at my main account @romanarose, and an event in June for pride, so if those interest you, follow my main page or this one, or @romana-updates

NOTE: I was unorganized so if I forgot someone's fic, IT WAS NOT ON PURPOSE. I know right now there discourse right now the Pedro fandom specifically, about different people not liking others or small writers or big writers ETC, but I want you to know no one was left out on purpose!

Note 2: If I put your fic here but forgot to reblog LET ME KNOW! I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to shine.

Without further ado, the fics and art!

ALL OF THESE ARE DARK SO SOME DEGREE FROM CNC, DUB CON, TO VIOLENT NON CON! HEAD WARNINGS!

The Last of Us

The Burglary by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy: Two men break into your house and take more than just your valuables.

Fight Club by @anama-cara : Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way.

Deja Vu by @milla-frenchy : After a bad experience with a former boyfriend, you meet Joel who makes you trust him fully in the bedroom

Silent Night by @kewwrites : Despite the way he always acted around you, you find it hard to say no to Sarah when she invites you home to her dad's house for the holidays. Surely nothing would happen while she's with you.

Training Day by @koshkamartell : Set in AU, no outbreak. You get more than you bargained for after trying to make Joel jealous.

Code Broken by @auteurdelabre : You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

The Art of Breaking by @corazondebeskar-reads : Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

Cry Harder by @romana-after-dark : While keeping you captive, Joel's sex drive is insatiable, and the sex seemed to be never ending. You tried to warm him you needed to use the bathroom... he didn't listen.

Nightmare Before Christmas by @katiexpunk : As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked.  Most of the time.  Tonight is not one of those times.

Locket by @toxicanonymity : Dark!Reader dugs her friends hot dad Joel

Run, Rabbit by @justagalwhowrites : It was just over a year after the world ended that you were captured by Joel and Tommy Miller. They're harsh, they're cold and they're killers. But, as a nurse, you're a valuable person to have around and they're not the worst thing wandering the wasteland that was the United States. And there might be more to these men than meets the eye.

Godless by @javier-penas-wifexx420 : You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

Across the Spiderverse

After Dark by @runa-falls : He wants you. and he knows you need him.

Triple Frontier

Deep Seeded Issues by @djarinmuse: Summary: At an N.A (narcotics anonymous) meeting you recall a dark and embarrassing memory, not knowing the connection in the room.

My Blood Would Teach Me How to Love by @winniethewife : Santi finds you self harming, blood kink ensues.

Room's on Fire by @romana-after-dark : Cult AU, Pope, Frankie, Will and Ben are cult leaders and need a virgin to breed who will birth the savior: the Madonna. Initially honored to find redemption, the Madonna has to learn how to navigate all four men and a circle of other people at the house.

Goodnight, Princess by @melodygatesauthor : Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

The Card Counter

Bad Bet by @boredzillenial and art by @lunar-ghoulie4art : William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

Getting Whats Mine by @winniethewife

Lightening Face

Puppy by @darkuselesssomebody : In which the reader is a manipulative bitch - and basil snaps because of it

Mojave

Cruel Intentions by @hon3yboy : You're on a soul seeking journey, just another young, pretty, thing. All alone and stranded in the desert, ripe for the picking and ol' Jack has his eyes set on you.

Moon Kight

Death to Dignity by @juneknight : An intruder (Marc) breaks in to your apartment.

*************

I cannot thank you enough for your support and interaction for htis series!!!!! I had SUCH a good time reading all these, you are all so talented!!!

I hope to do more events soon as it's really helped me make some friends and get to know people here!!!!

Please remember to reblog these authors, and if you're tagged here, be sure to check out more! Lots of great content here!

[octuscle]

The car makes the man

James didn't actually want a car. Cars were the death of the planet. Cars were an expression of a cult of masculinity. Cars were time wasters. But the new job he had required a car. He couldn't cope with his deadlines without one. The new job paid well. The car was paid for twice and three times over thanks to the pay rise. And he only wanted something small and used. The car had to be reliable and use little or no fossil fuel. And above all, it had to be small. Finding a parking space in James' neighborhood was hell.

James had prepared himself. On his iPad, he had selected a number of possible offers. And now he was walking through the rows of used car dealers far outside the city, looking for the small cars he had liked on the internet. And then he saw his nightmare: the epitome of a used car dealer approaching him. A man almost 2 meters tall, corn-fed, toothpaste grin. And a handshake like a vice.

"Hi, I'm Honest Pete, how can I help you son?" James said looking around first, thank you very much! Pete said that wouldn't be a problem. Could he offer a coffee? James nodded and tried as hard as possible not to make eye contact with the pushy salesman. Pete disappeared, only to return shortly afterwards with a tin cup. James was surprised, he had expected an espresso cup. "You look like a guy who drinks his coffee strong, black and hot. Am I right?" James was actually more of an herbal tea drinker. But to be polite, he took the cup and took a sip. Shit! It was bloody strong! "So son, who's the car for? Your girlfriend? You won't have a daughter who can drive yet." Pete laughed boomingly. James smiled curiously and said that he needed a car for work. "I knew you were lost. Follow old Pete!" James actually wanted to protest. But my God, Pete was a professional. Maybe he should make a suggestion. "On a side note, son: I like your haircut! A good honest mullet is the only way a man can wear his hair long. Not that hipster man bun shit. Am I right?" Hehehe, thought James. Business in the front, party in the back. And he had a lot of partying in the back. Pete asked what his name was. James replied and Pete slapped him on the shoulder. "Jim, nice to meet you. I bet we're going to have a lot of fun today.“ Just as James was about to reply that it was "James" and not "Jim", Pete took a tin of chewing tobacco out of his pants, took a pinch and held it out to James. "Sorry, smoking's not allowed here. But maybe this will help you." Shit, Pete was a good judge of character. James's fingers and teeth were more than enough to recognize the smoker. James gratefully accepted a pinch. Good stuff!

James and Pete passed a row of sports cars. James looked not uninterested. But Pete recognized his look and waved it right off. "Son, this European shit is not for you. You'll only fit in these cars if you're anorexic. And you easily weigh 260 pounds, don't you?" The man was good, James thought to himself…. It might be closer to 280 pounds right now, he thought as he patted the beginnings of a beer belly. "Son, no shame! A man's belly has to jiggle when he laughs. Otherwise he's not a man." Pete laughed again and his belly jiggled. James joined in and his belly jiggled too. "Besides," Pete punched James' shoulders again. "I know the problem. Still a brick wall of a man in high school, but once you have to work…" "You said it, Pete!" replied James. "I mean, in high school days, I lived on the football field and in the gym formally. But now…" Pete said, not fishing for compliments here, Jim was still one of the big boys. It was all the more important to find the right car for him. James snorted out the chewing tobacco and took a sip of coffee. It was still hot, but now it didn't burn the roof of his mouth. Pete indicated that James had something on his mouth. Fuck yeah, dew tobacco liked to get stuck in his mighty full beard. He rubbed his beard and asked "better?". Pete nodded and asked Jim's shoe size. At least a 12, right? James replied a 12 in tuner shoes, more like a 13 in boots like now. "I thought so" Pete replied. "We need something with big pedals, don't we James?" "Mate, it's Jim, not James! And the pedals shouldn't be the only thing that's big about the car." "Sure, it should suit you, big boy! But I think we've got just the thing for you here! Perfect for work. You can fit all your tools in the back. And if you go hunting, you'll have room for a dog, a rifle and a deer."

Jim took off his trucker's cap and ran his fingers through his sweaty, greasy hair. 8,000 dollars was way over his limit. His heating business wasn't making that much money at the moment. Oil heaters weren't particularly popular at the moment. But the car was awesome: big, powerful and manly! He opened the door and climbed into the driver's seat. Damn, it was like coming home. Pete was an asshole. Of course he had hit his taste exactly. He liked the car so much that he got a hard-on in his old army pants. And it didn't get any smaller when he felt Pete's hand on the bulge in his pants.

Pete became Jim's best buddy. At first they only fucked so that Jim could get a good price for the pickup. But they became the best fuck and gym buddies you could imagine. The only thing Jim couldn't persuade Pete to do was a mullet. Honest Pete was just a miserable white-collar bourgeois. But he sucked Jim's cock like the devil!

Pics by @ki-kink (he has more stuff like that!)

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Milky bath with flowers

Geta/Caracalla/Marcus x wife!reader

warning : fluff, kisses, bath toys in ancient rome (no spicy ones sorry), characters were written before the movie came out

Summary : Emperors and generals went bathing like everyone else in Rome. Maybe not on public baths or in pools, but rather in private pavements with pretty marble floors and statues of gods. But when your beloved wife has already claimed the bath, some things go differently than simply washing.

info : yes the second work to the three and i thought to myself while showering hey why not do something like this so here it is and enjoy reading :)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus

His body was always covered in dirt, the dusty ground from the campaigns, dried blood on his hands armor and face and sand in his washed hair after weeks and months on the return journey.

So it was all the better not only to finally be able to take off the few washes with bowls and cloths, but to wash himself completely in the large bath.

Unbeknownst to him, there was already someone in the large room, someone who was closest to his heart, the reason why he prayed to the gods that he would come back to her from every fight.

Warm pleasant water surrounded her, flowers in various colors floated around her and spread an ethereal pleasant smell, the water with milk added creating an unnatural yet pleasant water color following the example of Cleopatra.

Until her eyes settled on her husband a simple cloth tied around his hips a body of fine devinietren muscles, scars and slight injuries, dark hair a mix of dark pepper and salt when she looked at the strands a pretty sign of his aging. ,,A mermaid has strayed into the water, what am I doing?" his question echoed lightly in the large room and a smirk came to her lips as he slowly climbed into the water before placing the towel on the edge and swimming over to her.

Steam rose from the water as new wood was added under the fixture to make it more comfortable for the reigns, ,,What could you do, my dear General? A kiss as a sign of your devotion," she suggested and her hands placed themselves on his upper body, feeling the muscles, the strength and willpower that dwelled within him.

She heard his slight smile as she ran her hands over the various scars, smaller and larger, before he took her hands in his rough hands and moved them down her arms to her hips, ,,If it's a kiss you want, you should have one," he replied before he smiled and complied with her request for a devoted kiss.

She let herself fall easily into his arms knowing he was holding her, but she could still feel his almost proud grin, they were both proud of each other. She knew she was his heart she was his life the reason he came back every time and he knew she was his haven when he was haunted by nightmares of battle when the uncertainty of sleep threatened to take him over she was always there for him.

Before he broke away and his fingers stroked her cheek, ,,I have the prettiest mermaid for a wife, she has stolen my heart." From time to time he enjoyed her flattering look, her gaze was followed by a kiss and she splashed him with water.

But Marcus had other plans for her to swim to the edge, he took the soft sponge and indicated for her to sit on the stairs, ,,My dear husband is aware that I am no longer a child?" she asked as he placed the sponge on her leg and held it while she relaxed.

Despite his rough exterior, killing people to win and using swords better than anyone else, he was extremely gentle. He knew exactly how hard he had to wipe the sponge over her skin, how pleasant he made it for her and left kisses on her skin when it was a little too hard.

The divine sight of her wet hair, the individual drops of water that slid over her naked body and the flowers that surrounded her did everything for Marcus. ,,I am aware of that, my heart, but let me be your humble servant," he replied, a smile creeping onto his lips and she let a hand wander over his curls, which had grown a little longer since the last time. Before she let him go on, her sigh of pleasure came over her lips every now and then as he massaged her muscles and kissed her body.

The conversations of simple business to new home furnishings were interrupted every now and then by touches and kisses as they enjoyed the bath, enjoyed each other and the blossoms of love continued to float around the roses long after they had left the bath hand in hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geta

An emperor did not dirty his hands, never would a man of his status, his stature, his influence soil his own hands with blood. Giving orders and passing judgment was more what he did and yet Geta also had to take a bath in the large extra area of the palace, a bathing area, an area full of baths, full of exotic plants with statues of gods, statues of him and his brothers in various poses and a statue clad in gold of his wife the Empress of Rome the most desirable of all the beautiful beauties the empire had to offer.

But above all she belonged to him and whenever the golden sun went down in the evening, Rome slowly lay down and ate his dinner, Geta found himself in the large bathing area, a simple tunic wrapped around his body, but as he moved towards the large pool he saw that someone was making the water move.

A body, a body familiar to him was in his bath if it was his brother they would have argued enruet but instead a satisfied look settled on his bright eyes. ,,My empress takes a bath without me and doesn't even invite me in, how disobedient,” his voice rang out and she turned to him, startled that someone had come in, as no one else was allowed in except the emperor himself and she relaxed again.

Swimming over to him, she saw him take off his clothes and come to her, a familiar sight swimming towards her after he had been submerged once, his white face make-up running and the black around his eyes making it look like another mask before he wiped it away.

,,I hope my Emperor can forgive me…I was afraid for a moment that it was your brother and I would have to call you,” she admitted and felt his hand move up her thigh, soft skin smooth through the milky water with yellowish and white daffodils specially grown for the Empress, her favorite flowers.

She saw him roll his eyes, he was hardly ever on speaking terms with his elder brother Caracalla but it flattered him when she admitted that her husband was her salvation.

Simple flattery between them but you had to keep an emperor of the world happy in one way or another. ,,You are forgiven and you must be unconcerned only the two of us are here,” the blond murmured and she felt his fingers go up further, a smug expression as he ignored her midsection and instead ran his fingers over her lips before engaging her in a kiss.

Greedily, he took her lips, rasped her words and the two bodies drifted lightly against each other through the water, lightly pushing aside the flowers and coming to rest at the edge of the pool.

His lips broke away from hers, but his hands remained on her body, running down her cheek to her neck, seeming to enjoy her steady pulse, ,,I'm always soothed when you're with me, my love,” she assured him, stroking his curly blonde hair, feeling him nuzzle his head against her hand for a moment and knowing that he enjoyed it when she played with his curls.

Especially when they lay together in the big four-poster bed after a bath a few hours later and he put his hands around her and didn't let go while she ran her hands through his hair until he fell asleep.

The quiet moment pleasant between them was the excitement of the Colosseum behind them both, his excitement was so much enjoyed that Rome's fate lay on his and his brother's shoulders, war had to be fought and a kingdom had to be preserved.

It was all the nicer when they could spend their time together in the evening, ,,The fight today I think the wagering was unpleasant” he joked and told her about the rumors and gossip of the senate as his fingers casually wandered into her hair and he took out the hairpin and her hair now touched the water.

During the day she always had it up because of the sun and heat to avoid sweating even more, but in the bath she had actually known to apply a special tincture that shouldn't get wet until it was absorbed, but now she could forget about it. ,,You're even prettier this way,” he said and ran his hand over her strand of hair, playing with it by wrapping the long needle around it and watching the water drip down it while her hand played with his curls from time to time.

It was a slow evening, an evening in which she let him talk, enjoyed the little games and massages between them, the kisses he initiated and was grateful that he had had her warm bathrobe brought so that they arrived in bed together warmed up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caracalla

Geta's older brother, Caracalla, was a young man who, even though he was the most powerful of the current world, had completely different interests. He was not concerned with the people, the war was an amusement for him and victories were a matter of course.

No, what mattered to him was his amusement and that he wasn't bored because there was nothing worse than being bored, a wlet's existence in a long world was bad because he was always looking for entertainment.

Not only in his beloved wife, the Empress of Rome, his love and his everything and this entertainment, this amusement, was also part of his life and, as on this evening, also in the large bath which was also in the emperor's palace. The bath was specially equipped for him with beautiful ornaments and decorations a favorite gods and past people so that his imagination was stimulated, including a statue of his wife in a godly disguise.

But that's not why he ran into the bath with his things in his arms - on the contrary, he gripped the wood in his arms tightly and looked from afar at the naked person in the large basin. ,,Attention! The fleet is attacking!” he shouted and heard the surprised sound of his wife before he landed in the water and the wooden toys scattered on the water and individual flowers almost threatened to drown.

Colorful flowers that resembled a rainbow many colors were his wife's favorite even though he preferred blood red he liked her devotion to color.

After hastily emerging, he laughed when he saw that his waves from the jump had completely overwhelmed her and she brushed the strands of hair from her face, ,,A surprise attack is not a bad tactic,” she admitted before she lunged and splashed water at him, causing his make-up to melt and him to spit water.

The two young adults could be heard laughing as she swam closer to him and fished the sponge out of the water she had been using just minutes before and began wiping the makeup off his face while his jittery fingers ran over her body.

From light tickling movements that made her grin to something lewd, she felt him run his hands over her chest to get a reaction from her, always watching what she did, how her gaze changed, whether her lips moved up or down, and especially whether she did the same.

,,My battle emperor forgets I'm busy, doesn't he?” she murmured and rubbed a little harder over his cheek to get the last of the white face make-up off, which he answered with a shrug and a playful dive. She rolled her eyes and still kept an eye out for him, she liked his playful manner and knew that sometimes he was just a bit more playful than his brother, but still the co-emperor of rome.

She had respect for him, but just as often she had to stand up for him when Geta went too far with his sayings and especially his looks and actions, which made those moments of peace and togetherness all the more important. ,,A bestial water creature under me, what am I supposed to do?” she asked loud enough for him to understand and let out a laugh as she felt him dive under her and throw her up very lightly, landing in the water again.

Once again the flowers floated everywhere and the wooden figures sloshed their own way as Caracalla took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss, ,,Forgive me my beloved but this creature is now defeated,” he chuckled and she ran her hand over his blond hair before kissing him on the forehead and taking one of the wooden figures.

It was actually a toy for children, for the future heir of Rome, but Caracalla still enjoyed it and she steered one of the ships towards him while he took one of the catapults and placed a rose on it, ,,And sunk!” he exclaimed, and the blast flew through the air and hit her ship with pinpoint accuracy, sinking it.

They fought a toy battle over several waves and waves until there were hardly any flowers left in the water as they were all shot out of the water and she saw that Caracalla was getting bored again.

Which is why she grabbed the warm tunics and decided to play a different kind of game, a game that could last all night and that she would never get tired of and that the bath would only be the beginning of a battle-filled devotion, that much they both knew when their lips found each other again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 7

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] Part 7: [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Angry Sex, Nightmares, Domesticity, Morning Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

Glimpses of every day life and sharing an apartment with Carmy.

"I'm sorry, okay? I am! I won't use your ingredients without asking- just- please calm the fuck down!"

Your small argument from closing time had escalated on the way home to the point where you were screaming at each other by the time you slammed the apartment door behind you and followed Carmy to the bedroom. You had fought before, of course you had. But this was probably the worst one so far.

Carmy stood on the opposite corner of the room, hands on his hips, breathing heavily.

"Do you know how fucking expensive imported black garlic is?"

"I don't, but I have the feeling you're going to tell me," you spat, petty, the whole sentence leaving a bitter taste inside your mouth. You backtracked."I'm sorry. I'll pay for it, okay?" you tried to appease him even as your blood was boiling. "Listen, when I moved in, I was ready to make some compromises. I downsized my closet, I sold some furniture-"

"I didn't ask you to do any of that," Carmy interrupted you.

"Carm," you gave him a stern look. "I'm only saying that you could be more understanding about shit like this. We share the fridge and the pantry. I'm sorry I assumed I could use the stuff inside without asking, it will not happen again," you repeated, then inhaled deeply. "Just- I can't help feeling this isn't about that."

Carmy looked red in the face, angry like you had only seen him inside the kitchen, pacing and flexing his fingers. You couldn't believe he was actually losing his shit so severely over a steak and some garlic - even if it was a super expensive steak and black garlic.

He looked at the ceiling. "It is about you touching my shit without asking. It is about you leaving your things on the kitchen table when I need it to work-" he clenched his jaw. "I'm sick and tired of not knowing where anything is in my own fucking apartment!"

You had organized the closet to fit your stuff, and  put Carmy's vintage denim and your bigger dresses in storage. You still had to get a desk for your sewing machine and work stuff, in the meantime it had stayed on the kitchen table, which, in your defense, had remained unused for most of your stay.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked in exasperation. "I've been living here for three weeks! You could have said something instead of bottling it up until it was-" you gestured vaguely in his direction, "whatever this is!"

"I like you being here, I didn't want to scare you off!" Carmy groaned.

"Carm, did you think I would leave if we didn't agree on where the shirts are supposed to go?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Dunno!"

"You can tell me things, Carm!" you crossed the room until he was close enough to touch. His eyes looked like the sky before a storm. "You can tell me anything."

"Then why are you so fucking mad?" he said defiantly.

"Because I don't like when you yell at me like I'm just another chef in your fucking kitchen," you said, it was something you had been keeping quiet since your fight started. "I'm not getting paid to put up with this shit."

It struck Carmy completely quiet. And you regretted it the moment it left your lips. You had almost found some middle ground and you had trampled all over it. He took a step closer and stared at you, his eyes dark and angry, the space between you felt charged.

Before you knew what was going on, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and kissed you roughly, biting on your lips, mouth wide open. You pressed on his chest with your hands - you were still too mad at him. But his hands were strong and his tongue was relentless and you could feel yourself getting wet from the mixture of anger and lust - and who knew those two emotions were so close to each other?

"Fuck, I can stop," he said, barely separating his lips from yours, breathing hard. "You want that?"

You pulled on his shirt, bringing him towards you, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Then, using that same grasp, you moved him to the edge of the bed and pushed him hard, his curls bouncing as he fell on his back.

"I want you to fucking apologize, Carmen," you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. You leaned over and trapped his wrists with your hands, above his head. Even putting all your strength into it, he could wiggle himself free at any moment, but he didn't; he stayed down and looked at you hungrily.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little too cocky for your taste, a smirk barely hidden on the side of his face.

You ground your hips against his, feeling his cock harden underneath you. He rolled his eyes and arched his neck. He looked beautiful, like a marble statue.

"What was that?" you asked, stopping your movement abruptly and getting close to his face.

He whined. "I'm sorry," and it sounded more truthful this time.

"Mhmm, that's more like it."

You kept holding both of Carmy's wrists with one hand, while the other moved downward, going underneath his shirt and playing with his nipple, massaging and pinching gently until he closed his eyes and hummed in bliss. Then you stopped.

"Fuck you," he said, letting out some leftover venom from your fight. 

You smirked - why was this so hot?

You got your answer immediately after, when Carmy got free and turned you over, fast and aggressive, like he rarely was in the bedroom. He caged you with his arms and legs, all taut muscle and shaking breaths.

"What about you?" he said, his voice low.

"What about me?" you tilted your head. "I apologized like ten times, Carm. And I meant it."

"You said some fucked up things just now," his breath tickled your face as he studied you from every angle, like he was a wild animal and you were his prey.

"I did," you admitted. You arched your neck, trying to get close and... What? Kiss him? Bite him? You weren't sure. He put one hand on your throat, not quite a caress, closing his tattooed fingers around it. You squeezed your thighs together, blood flowing with need. "I meant some of that too."

"Which part?"

"That I don't like when you yell at me," you said honestly, the moment a little cheapened with how horny you sounded.

"That all?" Carmy's voice had turned hoarse from screaming and you wished you didn't find it so attractive.

"Yeah," you exhaled.

"Good," he said dryly and got up, freeing you, but you remained immobile.

Suddenly, he yanked hard on your jeans and underwear, leaving you bare in seconds.

"Fuck, Carmy."

You hated how needy you sounded, how wrecked you felt as he licked his hand and finally put his fingers inside you, how good he was at making you crumble... You let out a pleading and pathetic sound as he touched your clit roughly and finger fucked you a little too hard.

Then, he took his fingers out without a warning, leaving you empty and out of breath; his hands ghosted the insides of your thighs. You grabbed at his wrist, begging to be touched again. Carmy climbed on the bed instead, hovering above you, kissing you ferociously.

"Eager?" he teased when you started raising your hips to rub on his jeans.

"Impatient," you replied, trying to wind him up.

It worked - his eyes darkened again.

"Hands above your head," he ordered and you obeyed. He took your shirt off carelessly, your bra was almost spilling out with how forceful he was being but he didn't bother taking it off. The whole thing was angry, urgent, and so fucking hot. Carmy was undoing his belt and you used the pause to scoot backwards, just enough to reach your bedside table.

"Hurry the fuck up!" You threw a condom at him, hitting him square on the face.

Carmy gave you a look that was half exasperation, half amused lust. He unbuttoned his jeans just enough to take his cock out, then threw the empty wrapper back at you. He grabbed your legs and dragged you closer, forcefully, the duvet wrinkling underneath you.

"I swear I'm gonna-"

You didn't let him finish. You fisted the collar of his t-shirt and brought him down to kiss, biting on his lower lip, then soothing with your tongue. You opened your legs wide and tugged at the belt loops of his jeans - there was something arousing about him being almost completely clothed and you being almost naked.

"Fuck me, please, fuck me," you begged into his mouth, way past any sense of pride you had at the beginning of the fight. Carmy wasn't any better, rushing to obey the moment you said it.

"Fucking need it," he groaned as he entered you. It wasn't clear if he was talking about you or him - not that you had time to think about it before he started pounding into you. You felt every inch of Carmy's cock as it went in and out.

"So fucking good," you rasped to the side of his face. It spurred him on and made him go faster and harder - your moans got louder and louder. He covered your mouth with his hand.

"The fucking mouth on you," he mumbled low. You clenched your pussy in retaliation and watched as he rolled his eyes and lost his rhythm. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me."

You ran your hands under his shirt, tracing the contour of his muscles, feeling them quiver and strain as Carmy tried his damnedest to keep going, one hand on the mattress and the other keeping you quiet. Part of you smiled in satisfaction knowing he was getting tired and wouldn't last.

"Shit. Fuck me," he whined and stopped for a moment, sweating and panting. He finally uncovered your mouth, conceding defeat.

"Want me to take over?" you asked with a chuckle.

Carmy sighed and fell on the mattress beside you. "Still mad at you," he said, the sound pitiful with how hard he was breathing.

"Good to know," you climbed on top of him, straddling, lowering yourself on his cock, making him arch his back with pleasure. "I'm still mad too."

You rode him mercilessly, your hips slamming against his, hands on his chest, his eyes marveling at the bounce of your breasts. You took him right to the edge and left him hanging, the veins of his neck bulging as he groaned in frustration.

You clicked your tongue, swaying gently. "Not coming until I do."

"Yeah?" he arched his eyebrows, taking the challenge for what it was.

His hand moved from gripping your hip to where your bodies connected, his thumb finding your clit and caressing it. Your legs shook involuntarily, a spark going through you.

He grinned.

"Oh, fuck you," you sighed, your neck arched, looking at the ceiling while you bounced on his cock. He knew just what he was doing - making you tremble and moan with every gentle touch.

"Come on," he urged you, meeting your thrusts, fucking into you, hitting your G spot almost by mistake.

"Fuck," you gasped, biting your lip to stop from screaming.

You rode him much faster, something desperate and feral taking over you. Carmy's eyes widened when your walls started fluttering around his cock.

"Are you-? Can I-?" he asked in a choked out voice.

"Yes, yes," you managed to say, squeezing the wrist of the hand that was touching your clit so deliciously as your orgasm started taking over every one of your senses. "Yes, Carmy."

He tensed underneath you, flushed all over, eyes closed, and his lips forming a beautiful 'O'. You stared, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes.

He looked up at you, soft, grateful, a smile curling his lips.

"C'mere," he beckoned you downwards, meeting you with relieved kisses, breathy laughter filling the space between you. He caressed your back, tugging on your bra straps until you were somewhat covered again. The tenderness of the gesture warmed you all over.

"You okay?" Carmy asked and you nodded, nuzzling your nose against his in the process. A pause. "Hey. I am sorry. I was angry and-"

"I know," you fixed his hair, all sweaty and sticking on his forehead. "I'm sorry too."

He kissed your shoulder lovingly.

"I like you being here," he said. "I just- I need time to figure it out. That okay?"

"Yeah," you traced the line of his nose with your finger. "We'll figure it out together, baby."

You kissed him sweetly and he rolled you over to your side.

"I'll go to the thrift store tomorrow," you said, cupping his face. "Buy a desk and shit."

Carmy smiled. "I'll fix the pantry. Put labels on my shit. Make room for your things."

"I think that's the most romantic thing you've said to me," you joked, giggling when he tickled your sides.

"Shut the fuck up!"

He laughed with you, leaving kisses on your face and throat.

~

You woke up to the sound of Carmy talking in his sleep. Most of it was gibberish, quiet mumbles as he thrashed on the bed, the one word you could make out was 'Mikey' - over and over. He winced and let out a pained sound. You got closer and held him, your arm across his chest.

You knew he had nightmares, you'd been there for a couple of them, but sleeping every night with him meant you saw much more of it. It broke your heart how many you had missed, how bad he hurt...

"It's okay, Carmy," you soothed softly. "I'm here, baby, it's okay."

He woke up with a startle, breathing fast.

"Fuck, sorry," he sat up and ran his hands over his face. "Bad dream."

"I know," you waited for him to settle, giving him space.

After a while, he laid back next to you. You moved slowly, gently, touching the side of his face and caressing his hair, calming him down.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh," Carmy looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard, "there was a fire. Just so much smoke," he cleared his throat. "And, uh, Mike was there." There was a long pause. "Did I ever tell you he planned to set the restaurant on fire?"

"What?" you froze.

He hummed. "To cash the insurance money, you know," he reached for your free hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing them close to his chest; his heart was pounding.

"I'm sorry, Carm," you waited for him to say something but he stayed silent, vacant. "It feels so weird that I never met him."

"Probably for the better, to be honest," he said dryly. There was something dark about the way he said it.

"Hey," you squeezed his hand, trying to ground him. "What'd you like about him?"

"About Mike?" he said looking at you. "Uh- He was warm. He told the best stories, took care of Nat and me, gave the best hugs... A real big brother, you know?"

You nodded.

"Started getting tattoos because of him," he said, flexing his hands to show the ink on them. "He was so cool, and I wanted to be that."

"I think you're pretty cool," you said sweetly, kissing his knuckles.

"Thanks," he said through a sad smile. "Richie says he was all wrong by the end of it..."

"Wrong how?"

"He wasn't warm anymore, he was, uh, like a fryer fire, I guess. His stories didn't make sense. Kept forgetting shit. A mess, you know?"

"Maybe that's why he pushed you away," you said softly. You knew Carmy felt guilty for his time in New York. "He wanted you to remember him like he was before."

"Maybe," he conceded, looking up at the ceiling.

You stayed like that for a while, caressing his arm, tracing lines on his skin.

"Would you-" he said, then stopped.

You turned to face him. "Yes?"

"Would you hold me?" Carmy asked, his blue eyes open and vulnerable.

"Of course," you smiled and shifted on the bed to spoon him, his back to your chest, your arms around him, leaving gentle kisses on his shoulder blade. You could feel his heartbeat settle as he went back to sleep.

"Love you, Carm," you said right before you drifted off.

~

You woke up to the feeling of Carmy kissing your face softly. You hummed, content. When you opened your eyes, the bright light of late morning was all over your bedroom.

"Didn't hear you coming in last night," you said, your voice raspy with sleep.

"Got in late. Bad day," he raised his hand to touch your hair, staring at the way it caught the light. "Nat forced me to take today off."

"That bad?" you asked, a little concerned.

Carmy moved his fingers to the worry lines on your face, soothing.

"Not really. Someone talked about work life balance in her last Al-family meeting and she's all about that shit right now," he smiled. You loved to see how he looked soft with sleep, relaxed for a little while.

"Have I told you I really like her?"

"You might have," he said playfully, then leaned over to kiss you. It was a gentle thing, his lips lazy on yours and his body flushed as he hugged you.

You took his shirt off, not out of lust, just wanting to get more warmth from his skin on yours. You slowly started kissing his tattoos. You liked the ones on his arms and hands; they were familiar, whenever you thought of Carmy it was the image you conjured. But you loved his other tattoos, the ones nobody else saw, the secrets he kept and only shared with you. You left kisses on his shoulder and his chest, running your fingers on the ink on his ribs and right above his hip bone.

"I've missed you, Carm," you confessed.

It had been a hectic couple of weeks. You had barely seen each other, mostly just sleeping on the same bed, saying good night and good morning before each of you left for work.

"Missed you too," he replied.

His hands roamed your body, tugging gently at the fabric of your sleep shirt, helping you out of it, all while kissing you. You melted in his arms, pliant as he rolled you over and started leaving pecks on your skin.

"Carmy," you sighed. His lips left imprints on your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. He stayed there, kissing the top of your breasts, the side, the valley between them, and your nipples. Your pulse was racing and you wondered whether he could feel it with his mouth.

"You're so soft," he said, his exhale giving you goosebumps. "Smell so nice."

"You smell nice too, baby," you giggled. Carmy's hair still had a lavender-like scent from his night shower.

"Mmm..."

He kept kissing. Your belly, your hip, the wrinkle that formed between your mound and your thigh. There was something so like devotion in the way that he moved; it wasn't about filling some selfish need to get his dick wet, he wanted you to feel loved.

"C’mere," you called him back up, to kiss his lips fervently, your hands buried in his hair. When you parted, he smiled, his eyes were still sleepy. He looked so comfortable, so soft...

Your hand traced again that tattoo on his hip, then moved downward, to the hair on his navel, and lower, touching him over his boxers. He was half hard, his nose buried in your neck. When he groaned, his chest rumbled against yours.

"So nice," he said. "’m too fucking tired to fuck you like you deserve, though."

Your free hand caressed the back of Carmy's neck, holding him closer.

"Just want you to relax, make you feel good," you whispered, moving the hand on his cock back and forth, slow, loving.

He moaned, then shifted a little on the bed. You didn't realize why he was moving until his hand snaked its way inside your shorts.

"Oh," you squirmed a little at the feeling of his fingers.

"Too cold?" Carmy asked.

"No, it's okay," you leaned to kiss him. "It's okay," you repeated.

You kept on touching and kissing, everything in that sort of clumsy haze, one of your legs over his. You needed this: being with him without the rush of being late, no urgency, no fucking as fast as you could before Carmy had to run to the restaurant. You had all the time in the world - you could count the freckles on his face and stare at the blue in his eyes as he mumbled sweet nothings into the morning air.

His free hand touched your wrist, guiding it to the head of his cock, the sluggish rhythm you had set just enough to make him roll his eyes and kiss you hard, drowning a whine against your lips as he released.

"Love you so much," Carmy mumbled.

You kissed the side of his face. "I love you, I love you," your voice came out choked and high.

Without you noticing, the constant massaging between your folds had built up too. You came with a long exhale, closing your eyes for a moment, lightly squeezing his side.

"Wanna stay here forever," he said after a while of just looking at you and caressing your back.

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," you replied tiredly.

"I'd like that."

~

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 8]

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[pandorxxx]

Spoiled

Read part 1 here:

Neteyam x omatikayan fem reader (all aged up)

Warnings: HEAVY SMUT, cursing, soft-dom Neteyam, brat-Tamer, oral (both receiving and giving. Neteyam eats 🍑 in this one, sorry if you’re not into that). P in v, multiple orgasms, creampie, daddy kink, praise kink (kinda).

Synopsis: Ever since you and Neteyam decided to make it official, you had been nothing but a nightmare for him. And when he walked into the hut from a long day without your favorite fruit, there was no way you were going to let him slide.

🔞mdni🔞

It had been exactly 5 months since your 21st birthday extravaganza. 5 months since you and Neteyam decided to make it official. When you both told your parents, they were very happy for you both. Your father especially because he knew what a promising young man Neteyam was, and the fact that he would undeniably make a great mate. The relationship was going great…for you. Neteyam did everything in his power to keep you satisfied.

But if he was being honest, you were a complete nightmare. More bratty and selfish than you were when you were single. And let’s not forget to mention how needy you were. But he took it, because he loved you so much. But boy, was he getting sick and tired of you.

He would walk home from his long day of training, and stand outside of the door. Basking in the last few minutes he had alone before he had to deal with you.

He sighed deeply, walking into the hut. His eyes landed on your small figure, admiring yourself in the mirror. Hell, that was all you ever did.

“Did you get my fruit?” You asked, pulling your braids into a ponytail as you watched him walk to the cot languidly.

“Hello to you too.” He spoke sarcastically, plopping down on the cot. You frowned, turning to him with an angry glare. His eyes shot to you and he sighed, closing his eyes briefly to maintain his patience.

“Baby, the fruit you want isn’t in season right now. Remember? I told you that.” He gestured calmly. You stomped your foot like an angry child, walking over to him.

“But that’s what I want, Teyammm!” You whined, getting on your knees in-front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Baby, I understand that. And you know I’d get them for you if I could. I’ve looked everywhere, and they’re just nowhere to be found.” He explained, caressing your cheek as you pouted up at him. You smacked his hand away harshly, making him clench his jaw in restraint with a low groan.

“Ugh! You’re so annoying. Why don’t you just look HARDER!” You shouted, smacking his chest, only for him to have no reaction.

“Ok, y/n.” He muttered, standing to his feet in-front of you, walking over to the dresser to take his war belt off. You cocked an eyebrow, turning around to face him.

“OK? What does that mean?” You asked with aggression, standing to your full height.

“It means that I’m done talking. And I’d advise you do the same, because i am not in the mood for this shit tonight.” He shook his head, removing his woven necklace, placing it on the dresser.

You eyed him up and down in shock. He was becoming angry with you, and you knew that. You also knew that the only way to get what you wanted, was to play nice. So like always, you played your roll. Your demeanor softening into a sad pout. You walked over to him, turning him around to face you.

“What’s wrong now?” He asked sarcastically with a low sigh to follow. You shot him puppy dog eyes, and his demeanor immediately softened. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“I hate when you get upset with me, Teyam. You’re gonna make me cry.” You whimpered, eyes becoming watery. You were such a great actress, you could cry on instant. After all, You had a lot of time to practice on your father. That’s how you got everything you wanted.

“No, baby. Don’t cry, please? I-im sorry. I’ll do whatever I have to, ok? I’ll get your fruit, Princess.” He reassured you, caressing your flushed cheeks. You sniffled, trailing your dainty hands down his chest.

“When?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow at him as your hands trailed over his abs. “First thing Tomorrow morning. They’ll be here before you wake up, I promise.” He nodded, pecking your forehead.

“You’re the best, you know that?” You asked, your hand finding the band of his loincloth. He smiled, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Oh, baby. I’ll be my absolute best for you, and only you.” He confessed. Your hand made its way to his covered cock, palming it gently. His entire body froze, sucking in a sharp breath as he stared into your eyes.

“And how can I ever repay you, daddy?” You smiled, leaving small kisses on his chest. He let out a satisfied groan, throwing his head back.

“I-I would answer, but I’m assuming you already have something in mind Princess.” He strained, feeling his loincloth become looser and looser around his hips before it fell to the ground. You spit in your hand before connecting it to his throbbing cock, jerking it slowly. A series of curses and moans left his mouth as he watched you play with his cock.

“I can’t wait to get my fruit tomorrow. But until then….I think I’ll just snack on you instead. How’s that sound?” You asked sensually, speeding up the pace on his huge cock.

“Sounds good, Princess. Sooo s-so good.” He moaned, watching you slide down to your knees in-front of him. Without another moment to spare, you attached your mouth to his length, bobbing your head slowly as you stared up at him with lustful eyes.

“Oh my- f-fucking God. Juuust like that.” He muttered through a clenched jaw, holding the sides of your head as leverage to buck his hips into your mouth.

You hummed on him, swirling your tongue around his tip. You made it slow and sloppy for him, letting your spit cascade down your neck and breasts.

“Fuuck yes.” He groaned, watching you through hooded eyes, mouth slightly agape with low pants seeping through. You opened your mouth wider, letting him fuck your face just how he wanted to. He picked up the pace, the squelching and gagging noises egging him on.

“I-Im gonna cum, baby. G-Gonna cum!” He moaned, tucking both of his lips away, eyebrows scrunched as his eyes locked with yours.

“Mhmmm!” You hummed, eyes rolling in pleasure as you watched him fall apart. That was all he needed. His large hand found the top of the dresser, clawing at the wood as his eyes rolled back. Loud whimpers left his mouth before he released in yours. Your cheeks swelling with his seed. You let it trickle down your throat with a satisfied hum. He pulled out of your mouth slowly, a loud gasp leaving your swollen lips as he watched the lines of spit that connected you two.

“Fuuuck, girl. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He chuckled breathily, leaning back on the wall in exhaustion.

“Well don’t die yet. I’m horny now.” You pouted, untying your top and throwing it to the side. He looked down at you with low eyes, shaking his head with a light chuckle.

“When are you not horny?” He asked, rubbing his hands down his face in complete exhaustion. You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes at him. He sighed loudly.

“Whenever you want me, I give it to you. But right now…I’m so fucking tired. You have worn me out babe. And if you want me to be energized enough to go get your fruit, I need some sleep.” He explained, walking over to the cot slowly. You huffed, getting off of the ground to turn him around. “I want it.” You commanded, pouting up at him with your arms crossed.

“What, do you think I’m your Fuck toy or something? Huh? You know I am a whole person outside of just being your boyfriend? It’s been a long day, and I’m tired. And that little performance you just gave…only put the icing on the cake for me. So please….please just let me sleep.” He begged, hands intertwined with each other as he awaited an answer.

“Teyammm! Let me get on top then. You won’t even have to do anything but lay there.” You whined, caressing his biceps. He trailed your body for a moment, thinking about how good you would look riding him. With a low sigh, he finally gave in.

“You sure do know how to get what you want. Spoiled ass.” He smirked, backing up into the cot before taking a seat. You untied your loincloth swiftly, tossing it the the side of the room before straddling his lap.

“Whatever. Lay back.” You commanded, pushing him back with force. You two had been having sex long enough to not have a repeat of last time. So in one swift motion, you grabbed his cock, lining it up with your entrance to slowly slide down on him.

“Finally…I’m getting what I want.” You moaned, placing your hands on his broad chest, using it as leverage to bounce on him with full force.

“I-I always give you what you want. You’d kill me if I didn’t.” He spoke breathily, watching your breasts bounce with every subtle movement.

“Mmm hush!” You whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his swollen tip slammed into your sweetspot with every bounce of your hips.

His hands trailed down to your ass, gripping the plush flesh with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth to keep him quiet like you asked. Soft grunts and groans rumbling in his chest with every harsh meeting of his pelvis to yours.

“Teyammm, w-why are you so quiet? Am I not doing it right?” You whined, eyes meeting his. He looked at you completely dumbfounded.

“You t-told me t- mmm!- to hush. You’re doing so good, baby. Sooo so good!” He moaned, head titled back in complete bliss as his face scrunched in pleasure. He was so close, he could feel his muscles tensing and his heart racing until…you stopped with one hard bounce to his pelvis, almost knocking the wind out of him. He opened his eyes instantly, being met with your all too familiar angry demeanor.

“What? What could I have possibly done NOW?!” He shouted, rolling his eyes at you. “You’re annoying me! Being all quiet and shit. What is that supposed to mean? That I’m not doing my job, huh?” You asked, tilting your head as you awaited an answer.

“You told me to be quiet, DAMN! Do you not remember that?” He asked, gesturing wildly as his muscles tensed in anger. You rolled your eyes with a loud groan.

“NO I DONT REMEMBER THAT!” You shouted, smacking his chest hard enough to leave a handprint, but he still had no reaction to it. He ran his hands down his face with a loud growl.

“Holy shit Y/n, You’re driving me nuts! Just get up, I’m done with your shit tonight.” He sighed, placing his hands on your torso to lift you off of him. You smacked his hands away harshly. “NO!” You shouted, staying in place stubbornly.

“Hit me one more time…” His tone was serious, and dark. You loved to push neteyam’s buttons, but you knew when it was time to stop. And this was definitely the time. But, you felt like pushing him alittle further tonight, maybe you could wake the beast in him…the one you met the night of your party.

“Or what?” You challenged, eyebrow cocked as you awaited an answer. “Fuck around and find out. How about that?” He snarled, eyeing you up and down. You shot him a sarcastic smile, raising your hand to hit him again. But before it could connect to his chest, he had flipped both of you over, his arms engulfing your head.

“You’re such a fucking brat.” He spoke lowly, shifting your legs over his shoulders with one hand, completely folding you in half. He began to thrust into you, hard and deep, still maintaining a somewhat slow pace. Just so you could feel all of him, deep inside of your slippery cunt. After all, this was now considered a punishment.

“Too deep, Too deep, Teyammm!” You moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tapped his thigh, essentially tapping out.

“Hush! Not another fucking word. I’m sick of you talking.” He growled, pecking your agape lips as he fed you the deepest strokes you’d ever gotten. Loud squelching noises and heavy grunts flooded the room.

“I-Im sorry Tey! I’m sorry!” You nodded lazily, giving him those puppy dog eyes that seemed to work so well on him. “Not trying to hear that shit right now.” He shook his head with a dark chuckle, rolling his hips into you.

“Ohhh fuuuck.” You squealed, wrapping your trembling arms around his neck gently, bringing him dangerously close to you. So close that you could feel his breath tickling your nose. The eye contact was lethal as he drilled into you at an agonizingly slow pace. So deep you could feel him in your stomach.

“I-I hate you…sooo much.” You moaned, throwing your head back in absolute bliss. He knew that whenever you would tell him that, an intense release would follow.

“Gonna cum, huh? I know you like the back of my fucking hand, Princess.” He chuckled breathily, using the opportunity to leave kisses on your exposed neck.

“Yesss, I’m so close Tey!” You whimpered, shifting your trembling legs to the side of his hips. He began to speed up the pace, kissing every inch of your neck and jaw.

“Mhm, cum for me Princess. Be as loud as you want. Let everyone know that your spoiled ass belongs to me. I’m the only one that can handle you, right?” He asked breathily, in between kisses.

“Yes Teyammm!” You whined loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body began to tremble at once.

“Fuuuck, this is the only time I like to hear you scream my name.” He moaned, watching you come undone beneath him. Your juices flowed out of you with every slow thrust, making their way to the sheets.

“I-I want more. give me MORE!” You whined, in the middle of your peek. He shook his head with a slight chuckle.

“Any more and we’re gonna have to sleep on the ground. You’re making a mess, baby.” He explained, pulling out of you slowly, watching the rest of your essence cascade out of you like a river.

“One more time, Teyam! I-I’m so fucking hot for you.” You moaned, turning around in-front of him. You laid your head on the bed as your hips stayed mounted in the air. You spread your knees farther apart, opening yourself up to him.

“Oh my-“ he muttered under his breath, smacking your plush ass with a low groan. His mouth began to water, licking his lips as he admitted your dripping cunt. He bent down, immediately attaching his lips to your clit, flicking his tongue against the ball of nerves. You let out a low moan, spreading your legs a little wider for him.

He held your cheeks open to get better access, completely devouring your sensitive heat. He sucked on your clit like a pacifier before licking a long stripe up to your ass, swirling his tongue around to hole.

“Yesss, juuust like that daddy!” You moaned, a delirious smile plastered across your face in pleasure.

He began to French kiss your ass, letting his spit cascade down his chin. With a low hum, he stuck his tongue out, wiggling his head in between your cheeks, making your tail sway high in excitement with small whimpers falling from your precious lips. He sent it one last peck before he stood back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You taste so good princess. Just like the fruit you’ve been nagging me about for the past week.” He chuckled, sending a hard smack to your ass once more.

“I know that. FUCK ME.” You frowned, backing your ass up into him. He smiled, lining his cock up with your entrance before plunging into you.

“So fucking cocky. You just think you’re so hot, huh?” He asked, thrusting into hard and deep.

“I-I am hot, daddy. You don’t think so?” You moaned breathily, gripping the sheets so hard that your knuckles were white.

“You know how I feel, you just wanna hear me say it.” He moaned, mouth slightly agape as he watched your ass smack against his pelvis. The sweet music ringing through the entire hut, along with your pornographic moans that he loved so much. He shifted his hips up, jamming into that sensitive sweet spot of yours repeatedly. You bit your lip with a satisfied smile, shifting your head on the cot to look back at him.

“You like that? Hmm?” He asked with a sensual tone, smacking your bruised ass a few times, earning a few low hums in satisfaction from you. You let out a small giggle in response, followed by a series a curses as your stomach muscles started to tense.

“I-I’m gonna cum, Teyammm!” You moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you began to push your hips back into him to meet his rhythm.

“Shiiiittt! me too, baby.” He groaned, speeding up the pace. He threw his head back, loud growls rumbling in his chest. His thrusts became sloppy, cock twitching inside of you from his incoming orgasm.

“Oh my God, Yesssss! I’m- I-“ you cried, an intense release following. Your entire body twitching with each deep stroke. Your walls fluttering around him caught his attention. He looked down, admiring his cream coated cock with every thrust.

“Mmm, did you get what you wanted, Princess? Have I satisfied you enough?” He asked with a hint of sarcasm. But in reality, all he ever wanted to do was make you feel good. If you were happy, he was happy.

“Yes, daddy! I-I love you! I love you sooo much!” You moaned breathily, coming down from your high.

“Ohhh baby. I love you more!” He moaned, sending you one last thrust before painting your fluttering walls with his seed. You could feel the liquid trickling down into your womb, filling it up just right. A series of moans leaving his and your mouth as you both came down from your peeks. He pulled out, watching his seed flow down your trembling thighs.

“Can I go to sleep now princess?” He asked, grabbing a cloth to clean you up first. Silence followed, not even a hum in agreement.

“Y/n?” He asked, shifting around to see you cooing with your eyes shut tightly. Your legs slowly buckled to the cot, laying you completely flat. He chuckled to himself, wiping your thighs one last time.

“What am I going to do with you, Princess?…”

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[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn’t be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door."

Warning: Angst 🥺 conversation about suicide, depression, uncertainty about oneself, Misuk being the best character of all 🫶 Namjoon finally makes an appearance (he appears a little, but then a little more, I promise) Jungkook being an idiot – forgive him, for he doesn't know what he's doing.

A/N: I'm back!! First, I wanted to thank you all for the affection I've been receiving. Thank you so much for the messages and interactions! If you want to send non-anonymous messages, I even prefer it, because I can follow you 🥰 Pure Attraction is a not very elaborate story, I know, but it has become an important part of my life, so I thank you for reading all these chapters, you don't know how much this means. Without further ado, here is the chapter.

P.S.: Later, still today, I will post the next chapter 🤌

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 10

The journey back home has never felt so long. Minutes pass, yet it feels as if the clock's hands are stuck. I try to take a deep breath, but I can't. My head is filled with memories, occasions when I could have done something different. I was so foolish, so stupid. Filled with regret, I can't even look at myself in the reflection of the window. I remember my father, my mother, and I wonder what they would say if they knew I made a mistake with no way to turn back. My eyes fill with tears, almost instantly, for the fourth time today alone. Mrs. Jeon remains silent, looking through the coffee table of her house.

She sighs and gaze at her own hands before locking eyes with me, as if she understands me in some way. But I don’t know if anyone could comprehend what I’m going through at this moment. I feel... used. As if, even with my consent, Jungkook took advantage of me, of my innocence and of my inexperience. At the same time, I can't place all the blame on him. I made a mistake, I should have been more cautious and I let him inside of my life.

"Are you okay?" Misuk asks, almost in a whisper. I try to shake my head and force a smile, but I can't. She sways her hair and clicks her tongue nervously. "I can't believe Jungkook did this to you, dear. He’s my son, but I don’t agree with any of this."

"He’s not the only one to blame," I deny; I barely recognize my own voice, weak and trembling.

The last time I saw myself this way was when, during a difficult year, I didn't want to visit my father's grave, and my mother opposed it. The anguish is different, but equally overwhelming.

"Can you explain how you two got so… close?" she questions. "I mean, it hasn’t been long since he came to Busan. Did you have many opportunities to talk?"

"A few." I shrug. That doesn’t matter now. I’m angry and don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to lock myself in my room and pretend everything was a terrible nightmare. "Sorry, I don't even know where to begin. I feel awful."

"You can talk to me."

"You’re his mother."

"I am." She smiles, placing a hand on mine, gently caressing my skin. I immediately feel a maternal love and care I haven’t experince in years. My crying intensifies as I realize that the person I need right now isn’t with me—my mother. Even if she were here, she wouldn’t help. She would judge me, make me feel bad about my mistakes, just as she has done in the past, and I don't need this right now. "Y/N, I’m Jungkook’s mother, but I understand what you’re going through. You have no idea."

"What do you mean?" I frown, confused. Her dark eyes fill with tears, just like mine.

"When I was around your age, I fell in love with a man. He was two years older, and so handsome. He seemed like a dream, someone so different from me, yet so similar—almost like he was a part of me." She tells me looking ahead, as if she could see the memories playing out before her. "He is Jungkook’s father. He was my first love."

"What do you mean?" I whisper. "Mr. Jeon isn’t Jungkook’s father?"

"He isn’t." She shakes her head. "That’s why I say I understand you. It was the first time I fell in love with someone. It was also the first time my trust was broken. When he found out I was pregnant, he left. I was alone, working a part-time job I didn’t even like, that paid poorly and had no support. Those were the worst years of my life."

"Misuk, I don’t know what to say," I respond, with a knot in my throat. She had never shared this while we talked about the past. But I understand her, in a way. It must be hard to relive those memories, and even harder to confide them to someone.

"You don’t have to say anything. I, after all this time, have moved on. The fear of being abandoned, however, still hasn’t healed, even with twenty-six years gone by." She smiles again, but I know she’s more hurt than she wants to show. "Dear, I care about you. I love you like a daughter, even. You’ve been with me during these days, and we’ve grown so close. I see parts of myself in you. The way my mother treated me, the absence of my father. It’s all so similar. That’s why I say I understand you."

"It all happened so… suddenly." I comment to myself, looking down. The shame of crying, and the shame of what I did, prevent me from looking her in the eyes. "I know I should have been more careful, but I was so happy... I don't get it."

"Jungkook, being more experienced than you, should have talked to you, asked what your expectations were, and told you what his intentions were. If he didn’t want something serious, a commitment, he should have warned you." She argues, not letting me continue. It’s as if she wants to lift the guilt I’m feeling, and I'm really thankful for that.

"Yes, but I was so naive. I was a fool to think he could like me the same way I like him." I groan, covering my face as more tears come. My chest hurts just remembering him. His kisses, his touches. He was so gentle with me, treating me like no one else ever had. He listened to me, and that was enough for me.

"Did you... did you have sex?" Misuk asks, running her hand along my back in a comforting gesture that soothes my pain, at least a little.

"I-I... Misuk..."

"It’s okay. You can trust me. You can open up and tell me." She smiles, without judgment. I just shake my head embarrassed, exposed, somewhat humiliated.

"We did it last night. It was very sudden." I try to explain, even if I don’t have many words to do it.

"Was it your first time? Is that why Eunji thinks you slept at my house? She said that yesterday, and I didn’t understand."

"Yes, but that night was the first time I slept at his apartament and we hadn’t done... you know."

"You hadn’t had sex, just other things." She concludes with a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

My cheeks burn, even when I try not to. It’s very difficult to talk about this kind of subject, even with Misuk, because I never had anyone to talk to when I was a teenager. My view of sex always came from books, whether educational or romantic.

"That’s it." I confirm, shaking my head.

"Are you in love?" Mrs. Jeon asks me when a silence falls between us.

I take a moment, reflecting about the question as if it were the most difficult one of my life. What does it mean to be in love? Is it feeling a flutter in your chest every time you see the person? Is it having a wild rush of energy that courses through your body uncontrollably? Is it standing still and feeling your heart race a thousand miles an hour? Is it missing that person and wanting to hear from them every day? If that’s the case, then yes, I’m in love. The realization of this fact hurts me even more. It makes me feel weaker. How could I be so foolish? How could I think someone would be interested in me when no one else had?

A flood of memories overwhelms me. If I had known I’d feel this pain, I would have never gotten close to Jungkook. I would have shut my window the first time I saw him, and never opened up again.

"It’s okay." She reassures me, hugging me. I hug her back, trying to purge the feeling of rejection that’s almost lodged in my chest.

"He just turned his back on me. He didn’t even see me when I left. It’s as if he got what he wanted and then I wasn’t worth the effort anymore." I vent, hurt, too wounded to stop the words pouring out.

"Jungkook is a fool." She shakes her head, pressing her lips together. "At the same time, he’s stuck in this messed-up relationship. I’ve told him millions of times that they’re not good for each other. I told him that true love doesn’t hurt, doesn’t deceive, but he’s stubborn like no one else."

"Does he really talk to his ex?" I ask, hoping it’s not as I imagine. That maybe they talk, but not as much as I’ve put in my head.

"The last time we talked about this was two days ago. He told me Namjoon called him, and they had a conversation for twenty minutes. He’s very deluded." She shakes her head, angry. Two days ago we were texting. I know we had no commitment and hadn’t established anything, but to me it’s worse to know he didn’t respect this moment. That it didn’t mean anything to him. While I melted over our messages and smiled like a fool for his attention, he was with his ex, doing the same with someone else.

"Did Namjoon really cheat on Jungkook? Why does he still try? Why does he still talk to him?"

"Namjoon was his first boyfriend. They were together for almost five years, and at one point, they practically lived together. When Jungkook was alone in Seoul, working in a tattoo studio, he met Namjoon and fell in love almost at first sight. He was very shy, introverted, with few friends in the new city. I think that helped them form a strong connection." Misuk explains. She seems to know a lot about the situation, as if she followed everything in detail, even from a distance.

"Have you ever met him... I mean, have you met Namjoon?" I ask, hesitant. My heart races for some reason. My hands feel cold with anxiety.

"Yes." She nods, sighing. "He’s a great guy, I can’t deny that. He works at a book publishing company, very intelligent and kind. I think that’s why Jungkook fell for him. At the same time, Namjoon is someone who wants more. He wants to achieve other things, and when the relationship got in the way of his goals, he didn’t think twice before stepping on everything they built together. Jungkook was devastated."

"How long ago was that?"

"About three months." She says; her body suddenly tenses. "That’s when I tried to take my own life."

"Mrs. Jeon... Jungkook told me what happened." I say, not really knowing if it’s right to tell her the truth. But it’s the first time she’s opened up about the subject, and I don’t think it’s fair, especially now that she told me so much about her past, to hide this from her. Her eyes widen, and then she smiles awkwardly.

"He really is an idiot. He must have told you to keep an eye on me." She says, shaking her head as if recalling her son’s actions, however she doesn't seen to hold any resentment towards him, regarding this. "He’s always been very careful. Always very protective. Jungkook has his flaws, but I think I understand why you fell for him. He’s stubborn but takes care of those he loves. I feel guilty for, even unknowingly, adding this weight to his shoulders. I’ve been feeling better now."

"Are you really okay?" I ask, somewhat uncertain.

"I am. I’m taking my medication, going to therapy, and visiting support groups once a week. Sometimes when I feel bad, I seek comfort. I know that ending my life isn’t an option. I don’t want to leave my son alone." She states. I search her eyes for any hint of untruth, anything that tells me she’s not okay, but I find nothing. I’m glad to know that, at least she, is evolving and improving. "But you know what’s making me feel better, Y/N?"

"What?" I ask, eager to know the answer. Whatever it is, I need an urgent dose of what is making her feel better.

"You." She smiles; more tears appear in her eyes, this time from happiness. "You’ve made my days better. I want you to know you can count on me. For everything." She confesses. Her voice deepens as I break down again.

"Thank you so much." I say sincerely. I have a friend. I have someone I can count on, and that brings me such a great relief that it feels like I could die.

"It’s okay. No more crying Y/N." She gets up from the couch, smiling. She raises her arms and wipes her face with her shirt. "Dear, tell me. Did you use protection? Did you take precautions?"

"No." I flush at the confession, feeling like a child who has no idea of the consequences of her actions. "He went out to buy a morning-after pill, but you arrived and..."

"It’s fine. Don’t worry." She holds her hands up, as if all of this doesn’t matter. "You don’t need to explain. I know that in the heat of the moment, you don’t think about anything. That’s why I had Jungkook when I was twenty." She laughs, making me feel even more embarrassed. "I’ll buy you a pill. Don’t worry; everything will be fine."

"Mrs. Jeon, you don’t have to. I'm going to do it."

"I don’t want to be a grandma so young, Y/N." She jokes, making me laugh too. "And it’s not a problem at all. I want to see you well, and that’s what matters."

"Thank you." I express my gratitude. Not just for the pill, but for everything. Even though it hurts, being here with her alleviates, at least a little, the torment I’m feeling.

"You don’t need to thank me. Everything will be okay." She assures me, and I accept it. I pray to God that all of this I’m feeling will soon come to an end.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" I hear a voice behind me. I don’t look right away, afraid to fall.

Since the library shelves are very high, I usually use a mobile ladder to organize the books, so before I make sure who it is, I carefully step down the rungs. When I finally reach the ground, I regret coming down. It’s Hayun, Jungkook’s friend. Not because of her, of course, as I enjoyed meeting her, but because of him, who has kept me awake for the past three days.

"Are you okay? It’s been a while since we last saw each other." She smiles. She approaches and kisses my cheek suddenly. She seems to genuinely like me, and I’m grateful for that. Her outgoing personality couldn’t be better right now. My energy, ever since that argument happened, has been dwindling.

"I’m okay." I say, putting on my best smile. "And you? How have you been?"

"Busier every day. With the move and everything."

"You’re moving?" I ask, curious.

"Yes, didn’t Jungkook tell you?" She asks, and just the mention of his name makes my chest ache. The crying and tears have passed, but I’m far from normal with everything that happened. He hasn’t sent me any messages, and I can’t stop thinking that somehow, I was just a conquest for him. A night of sex that is already forgotten.

"No, he didn’t tell me. We haven’t... talked."

"Seriously? He’s been talking a lot about you." I raise an eyebrow, startled.

"What do you mean? What has he said?" The words fly out of my mouth before I can control myself. Hayun laughs, as if she notices my sudden interest.

"He says random things. That you like to read, or that you’re in college and you cook well. Random stuff like that." She comments, approaching one of the shelves to take a look at a book. "Anyway, I’m moving soon. Me and the guys, we’re all going to Seoul."

"With Jungkook?" I bite my lower lip, intrigued.

"Yeah, I’m from Seoul and wanted to go anyway, but we’ve been talking about everyone moving there for years. We were just waiting for Bora and Taehyung to finish college." She closes the book and puts it back, shrugging. I nod in agreement. Good for them. It feels like I’ll be the only one stuck here, stagnant for the rest of my life. I feel bad. I should make a list of topics I can’t discuss without feeling like a fraud. Damn it.

"That’s great... Hayun, I have to go now. I’m working. But it was nice to see you again." I say sincerely. It’s like seeing her again makes me a little closer to Jungkook. I don’t want to think about him, yet simultaneously, I can’t get enough of him. I’m going to go crazy.

"It was nice to see you too, really." She says, smiling. "I don’t want to bother you or anything, but before you go... I wanted to ask, are you going to the party tonight?"

"What party?" I frown, confused.

"The celebration. The studio opened, and we’re having a party at Yoongi’s house. It’ll be the last one before we move to Seoul. What do you think?" She grabs my arm, full of excitement. I shake my head immediately, flustered. Jungkook probably hasn’t told his friends what happened between us, and I don’t know if I should be sad or happy about that.

"I can’t, really." I respond, trying my best expression.

"Come on! Let’s go, Y/N, it’ll be fun. It’s for Jungkook. It’s important to him."

"It’s precisely because of him I’m not going." I whisper to her, softly. Hayun stops smiling and glares at me intently.

"Did something happen? You can tell me. Did the idiot do something to you?"

"He didn’t do anything." I half-lie, half-try to hide. Him sleeping with me while still talking to his ex isn’t exactly a huge thing. We hadn’t established anything serious yet. Though, in my head, he is wrong in any case.

"If he didn’t do anything, you should go. He’s really happy about the studio. He worked for about four years to save the money he needed."

"Hayun..." I sigh, embarrassed. "Actually, something did happen. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go. It’s to avoid ruining his night that I’m saying no." I finish, somewhat nervously. My body trembles with sadness and bitterness.

"Hey, you can count on me. I won’t tell the idiot anything you say. I’m a jerk, but not a bad friend." She rolls her eyes, clapping her hands together. I chuckle helplessly. She’s funny. I had forgotten this little detail.

"Alright, but I’ll be brief. I really need to get to work." I say. Hayun nods silently in agreement. "Jungkook and I did have a thing."

"I knew it!" She exclaims, in the middle of the hallway. Since it’s a library, her loud voice echoes throughout the place, drawing the attention of the few customers to us. I laugh in despair, covering my mouth with my hand. "Sorry, I spoke too loud. But I knew it! the way he talks about you... he likes you."

"I don’t think he likes me that much." I whisper, losing my smile. "He doesn’t want commitment, and that’s why we drifted apart. He still seems to care a lot about his ex."

"Namjoon." Hayun grunts his name without enthusiasm, rolling her eyes. Her once cheerful face, suddenly tightens. "I know. I liked him until I found out what he did to Jungkook. No one has spoken to him since."

"Yeah. Well. That’s why I think it’s better not to go. I want this to be a good moment for him, anyway. I don’t want to cause any discomfort." I vent, gathering my hands that get sweaty, every time I think about this topic. I have to swallow hard to avoid more tears and appearing like a fool in front of his friend.

"I still think you should go. You won’t ruin anyone’s night; I’m sure of that. And it's Yoongi’s house, it’s not like you can’t go." The brunette argues.

"Even so, the party is for him."

"Y/N, Jungkook won’t be in Busan for long. Don’t you think it’s better for you to talk, whether to end whatever it is you have, so you can both move on without resentment?" She suggests, making me think.

I shake my head for the tenth time in this conversation. I don’t know if it would be a good idea. It’s the first time I’ve ever had feelings for someone, and I don’t know if to end what I feel, I should talk to him. My romantic experiences are based on books, and in books, the heroines are never rejected. Just imagining even for a second, if I go to this party Jungkook will show discomfort or indifference, makes me panic. A strong shiver runs through my whole body with the thought.

"I don’t know if it’s a good idea." I reply, shrugging. Hayun sighs, tapping her boot on the wooden floor.

"Okay. Let’s do this: you’ll go. Stay for five minutes. If you see it’s better not to force things and forget all of this, I’ll take you home myself." She says, putting her hands together as if in prayer.

"You’re quite persistent, huh." I murmur, laughing. I roll my eyes, reflecting. Should I talk to him? Should I give myself a chance to hear him out and maybe understand his side? Even if we don’t end up together, and I end up sad, wouldn’t it be better to finish whatever it is we had, so I can move on?

For the past three days, all I could think about was him. There hasn’t been a single hour where I could relax, read, or watch something like I always did. I sigh, groaning. Then I nod my head, still unsure. My mother is still out of town, and that gives me a little more freedom than usual. Hayun lets out a high-pitched scream and bounces around, hugging me. It’s as if with my decision alone, I’ve made her day happier.

"You’re going to love it! Yoongi’s parties are always so much fun." She assures me with a confidence I don’t have. I went to a party once, and I remember hating everything. Both the music and the people.

"I hope so." I laugh, not very sure about what I’m doing. I want to give up on this idea because it makes no sense, and at the same time, I want to show that I’m brave. That I can face my fears. I don’t want to run away of everything forever.

I can do this!

I can’t do this. I can’t do this!

I look at my outfit and feel like going back outside, running after the taxi I took to get here. My long dress, made of thick fabric, has nothing to do with what these people wear. It’s as if I live on another planet, literally. The music is upbeat, playing from two speakers in the middle of the room. It’s good, considering the bizarre things I’ve heard out there. The lights are all purple, giving the place a sensual and enigmatic look. There are many people, and none of them I know. On one hand, I thank God for not running into Jungkook. On the other, I wish he’d appear before me out of nowhere, just so I could put an end to all of this, once and for all.

But what would I say? You’re a bastard, Jungkook. You didn’t promise me anything, but actions speak louder than words. Your actions didn’t show me you still loved your ex. I could say all of that, but how would it help me? Being honest with myself, I came because I felt afraid that, that morning, three days ago, would be the last time I would see him. The last time I could look into his eyes and feel his presence. I am truly in love, and I don’t want to hold onto another regret in my life.

I look side to side, trying to find Hayun, but in the middle of so many people, it’s hard to recognize anyone. I walk through the room, bumping into a few women. They don’t mind, though. I don’t know the environment very well, but the further I get from the crowd, the more I can enter the open backyard, which has a huge pool. Hayun sent me the address an hour ago; maybe if I called her, I could find her more easily. When I take my phone out of my small bag, determined to complete the call, I spot a red-haired figure that catches my attention. Yoongi. It must be him. I walk slowly towards his group of friends, feeling apprehensive, afraid of accidentally colliding into Jungkook.

"Y/N! Over here!" I confirm my suspicions when Hayun waves her arms in the air, as she recognizes me despite the low light. I smile faintly, walking closer to everyone. They all seem unbelievably beautiful, well-dressed, with an air of excitement that I don’t possess. "You made it! I thought you got lost."

"I took a taxi. It’s just far from where I live." I apologize, shrugging.

"Don’t worry. I haven’t had anything to drink. If you need anything, I’ll take you home, okay?" She smiles, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head. Hayun looks prettier when she does that. "Guys, look who’s here. Y/N!"

I shake my head, greeting them. They seem happy to see me, which relieves 50% of my worries. My stiff and tense shoulders, from imagining scenarios where none of them wanted to see me. I’m relieved to realize that this isn’t happening in reality.

"Y/N, how are you?" Bora kisses my cheek, just like the other girls. Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung nod, sipping something from their cups.

"I’m good." I smile, feeling awkward. I look around for Jungkook, but he’s nowhere in sight. At least not as far as I can see. "It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other."

"Right? What have you been up to, Y/N?" Yoori, Taehyung’s girlfriend, asks. I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t have much to say.

"I’ve been working a lot." I say, honestly. Partly because it’s true, and partly because I don’t know how far I can tell. Do Yoongi, Jimin or Taehyung know that I was with Jungkook? I’m so paranoid about this I can hardly look them in their eyes.

"She works at the Dongseo University bookstore. When I went to pick up some books, I found her there." Hayun circles her arm around my shoulder, smiling. I nod in agreement. "Y/N, Jungkook is around here; he went to get something to drink." She whispers the last part in my ear, trying to keep everyone else from hearing, and with all this noise, it’s not too hard.

My breath catches when I think I might run into him at any moment. My heart beats like it’s going to burst out of my chest, and my legs feel like jelly from so much nervousness. When I think of a mantra to calm me down and finally face things like a normal person, head held high, I see him coming toward his friends, not really seeing them. It’s as if he’s so lost in thought that he can’t see anyone a foot in front of him. Hayun beside me suddenly gasps. She mutters something near me, and I only feel her tense body, because she is pressed against mine. Everyone looks at Jungkook with expressions of discomfort that I can't quite understand.

"Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t... I didn’t know." She says, shaking her head. I frown, confused. What’s happening?

"What’s wrong? Is everything okay?" I ask, anxious, feeling all kinds of emotions at once.

"That guy next to Jungkook." She says, discreetly pointing to a very handsome man, just a few inches taller than him. "That guy is..."

"Namjoon? What’s he doing here?" Jimin questions, crossing his arms over his chest, interrupting his friend. My eyes widen as they approach. My whole body pulls back, and I want to disappear. To be swallowed by the earth and never inhabit this world again. But it’s too late. Jungkook is already here. And his dark, big eyes grow wider when they see me.

"Y/N?" He asks, confused.

Fuck.

"J-Jungkook. Hi." I nod my head. The fear of making any move and embarrassing myself in front of everyone, is overwhelming. The fear that he might just ignore me and pretend I don’t exist, is even greater. I swallow hard, frozen in place. I can’t even greet him properly.

Jungkook doesn’t move either. He stares at me in a static way, and everyone in the group seems to notice. Even Namjoon, his ex-boyfriend. He’s handsome. With his black hair, lean strong body, and a masculine perfume that exudes confidence. My insecurities about myself intensifies. If I had known he would be here, I would have never come. I was a fool to think this would be a good closure. Jungkook hasn’t wanted to talk to me for the past three days. Why would he want to talk to me now? The urge to cry returns, and I’m tired of this situation.

"I didn’t know you’d come, Namjoon." Hayun says beside me, still with her arms around my shoulders. I lower my head, embarrassed.

"I decided at the last minute. I had to come to support Jungkook." He smiles, and he’s even more attractive when he does, forming charming dimples on his cheeks.

"Wonderful." Yoongi grins, but I have the feeling it’s not very sincere. His dark eyes show feelings far from happiness. "I hope you came to stay for a short time. I don’t want certain people in my house."

"Yoongi!" Jungkook scolds his friend, and my throat tightens. Is he defending his ex-boyfriend? Doesn’t he realize the gravity of what Namjoon did? He cheated on him!

"Don’t worry." He places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes it with an intimacy that makes me extremely uncomfortable. "I came just to see you; I won’t stay long, anyway."

"He was kidding." Jungkook clarifies to him, his voice somewhat hoarse. Then he lowers his head and looks at me again. His eyes are so intense that I have to take a deep breath, struggling to breathe normally. "Actually, I need to talk to Y/N."

"What?" I ask, surprised. My body tenses up again, stiff. Hayun lets out a small smile that everyone notices, and shakes her hair, almost as if the whole situation were a movie, and she’s the spectator.

"I told you it would be a good idea for you to come." She says, and her voice is so loud that it’s as if she wants everyone to hear, especially Namjoon, who bites his lips and watches me. His gaze is enigmatic. I can’t tell if he feels anger or discomfort. Or neither.

"Hayun, please..." I whisper. "And Jungkook, I was actually leaving."

"You weren’t." Hayun argues, furrowing her brow. "You just got here, and you’re staying. You’re welcome here."

"I don’t know..."

"Please, Y/N, I wanted to talk to you. Stay a little longer." Jungkook whispers, biting his rosy lips. His face looks sad, but I can’t believe it’s because of me. If he liked me, even a little, he wouldn’t be standing next to his ex with almost an intimate proximity. I can’t understand him. Not at all.

"Okay." I agree, uncomfortable with everyone watching us, as if we’re animals in a zoo. I don’t want to imagine what they’re thinking.

"Namjoon, I’ll talk to Y/N. I’ll be back soon." He smiles faintly, looking at the dark-haired man. Namjoon just nods and gaze at me one more time.

"Okay. No problem. I’ll stay here with your friends." He says, and I catch a glimpse of Jimin sighing as he takes a large gulp of his drink.

We move away from the group in silence. His hand approaches the end of my back, but he doesn’t touch me. My brain feels like it’s going to fry. There’s so much I want to say, and at the same time, so much that isn’t worth saying. I feel so bad. The way he said he would return to his ex is one of those reasons. Why does he stay in this relationship? Doesn’t he realize he would be happier if he just distanced himself from Namjoon? But that’s my opinion, and he clearly doesn’t think that way. We approach a tree, further away from the party, in the backyard. I lean my back against it, fearing I won’t have strength in my legs. I can’t even look him in the eyes. I don’t have the courage for that. We stand in silence for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

"Are you okay?" He asks me quietly. If he weren’t so close and we weren’t so far from the music, I wouldn’t be able to hear him.

"I am." I respond, trying to form a smile that isn’t real. "And you?"

"Yeah." He smiles too; he tosses his hair back, closes his eyes and sighs, watching me. "You look very beautiful."

"Thank you." I say, feeling awkward. I don’t feel beautiful; I feel terrible.

"Y/N, I don’t know what to say." He says, placing his hand on the trunk of the tree, behind me. His scent invades my nose whether I like it or not. I have to use all my self-control not to respond to any of his movements. "I haven’t been well since that morning. I don’t feel good."

"You don’t feel good." I repeat his words, finding it amusing. He doesn’t feel good? Seriously?

"You may not believe it, but I had to hold myself back from calling you."

"You could have called." I shrug, speaking. My voice sounds ironic, but I can’t be any different. I’m angry. So angry and sad. It’s as if all the bad feelings are inside my chest right now.

"I could, but I shouldn’t. I wanted to take some time to think, and you needed that too." He argues, furrowing his brow. "I want you to know that Namjoon is here, but I didn’t know he would come. It was a surprise to me too."

"You must have been thrilled." I respond with a not-so-happy smile. Jungkook runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, and tightens his jaw, irritated.

"I wasn’t thrilled. I’m not happy, if that’s what you're saying."

"Jungkook... I get it. You want to be with him. I may be inexperienced, but I can read the situation. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. There’s nothing to explain. I just came because I wanted to say I’m happy for you. To congratulate you. Just that."

"You didn’t come just for that." He says in denial. "I can see it in your eyes."

"You know me so well, don’t you?" I respond ironically, trying to hide the extent to which I’m affected. I want to leave. I shouldn’t have come to this party. I shouldn’t be here with him.

"Y/N, please..."

"Jungkook, what are you doing here with me?" I lose my patience, finally reaching my limit. I push away from the tree, my stomach churning. "Why aren’t you with him? With Namjoon? I’m not important to you, so why are you pretending like I am?!"

"I already told you to stop acting like you know me better than I know myself." He grunts, his face reddening with anger.

"It doesn’t matter what you say. I’ve already told you: actions speak louder than words, and you’ve proven that to me since that morning. You didn’t call me for three days simply because you didn’t want to!"

"Y/N..."

"You don’t want to be with me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to be. I already understand where your limits are; just... just don’t pretend to like me if you don’t care about me!" I finish, trembling. My eyes fill with tears, and I feel so vulnerable, anxious. Jungkook has always brought out the best in me, and now I don’t even recognize myself.

"I care about you." He moves closer, furrowing his brows. His dark eyes grow bright. If it weren’t for the lack of light, I could swear he’s about to cry too. He gets even closer and touches my cheek with his hand, gently caressing my skin, sending chills down my spine. I want to pull away from him, but I can’t. "Y/N, I really like you. I didn’t call because I needed some time."

"Stop..." I plead, in a whisper. Both for his words and for his touches. I wrap my hand around his wrist, but I don’t halt him from continuing. I don’t move, half weak, half uncertain, afraid he’ll stop and nervous he’ll keep going.

"I missed you." Jungkook says softly in my ear. His body almost fully pressed against mine. His breath hits my neck; his strong chest touching my breasts. And I don’t know if it’s his heart or mine, racing a thousand miles an hour, so fast and strong.

"Jungkook, stop." I beg, but I can’t pull away myself. He takes his face away from my neck and looks at me once more. His pupils dilate, and they go straight to my mouth. A shiver runs through my entire body as he moistens his lips with his tongue, with a desire so exposed that I can’t mistake it for anything else. And I let him come closer, so damn slowly, as if we’re in slow motion. When I finally close my eyes, surrendered, hypnotized, I hear someone calling him.

"Jungkook?"

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments

@joonwater @ane102 @ttipa @kookienooki

[steddietogo]

Eddie finds Steve’s green sweatshirt one day after getting surprise dunked in the pool at Casa Harrington by his own sheep. It’s soft and worn like it was once Steve’s favorite thing to wear but now it lays forgotten at the back of his closet.

Eddie doesn’t think much about it, just picks it up and pulls it on. Its just him and Steve in the kitchen when he gets back. The others are arguing about which movie to put on while Steve heated up dinner for all of them like a dutiful housewife. The thought makes him laugh.

Steve turns around at the sound of his voice. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just. You pretend to get mad when the kids call you mom but here you are, being all—” He waves his hands about trying to convey his point but Steve is already distracted.

“That sweatshirt,” Steve has a frown on his face, but it’s not exactly a bad one. Eddie wonders when he learned to read Steve like that.

He gives Steve a twirl. “Do I look good in it?” Steve smiles, doesn’t deny it.

“You know, I fought my first demogorgan in it,”

“Woah,” Eddie looks down at it, feeling something akin to wonder when he smooths his palms over the fabric.

“Yeah,”

“God, Harrington,” Eddie looks up grinning. “You gotta keep a priceless artefact like this safe,” Steve rolls his eyes and goes to pull the pizza out of the oven. He’s still smiling though.

Eddie follows, then plants his butt on the counter so he can see Steve’s face. “Is that why you don’t wear it anymore?”

Steve’s cheeks puff out like a chipmunk when he sighs heavily. Eddie has the sudden urge to pinch them.

“Kinda, at first,” He doesn’t look at Eddie when he speaks. “I don’t even know why I kept it, you know? I kinda just wanted to burn every evidence of that night,”

Eddie nods and goes to gather plates for everyone. He should say it. Steve trusted him enough to share, Eddie should too right? He hasn’t said it out loud. Not to Wayne, not to the upside down scientists approved therapist. But he could tell Steve. Steve gets it. And Eddie so badly wants to talk about it, maybe cry a little. Because out of all the things that had happened, this one really breaks his heart.

Eddie startles when a hand softly presses into the small of his back. “You okay there?” Steve has his head tilted to the side to see Eddie better and this time the frown on his face spells worry.

“I can’t play my guitar,” he blurts out. And the words rush out of him all at once. “I can’t do it, I mean I get nightmares and shit, you know. And sometimes my scars hurt so much at night that I can’t even sleep. But this one really takes the cake, like, I pick her up and my heart starts racing and I can’t breath—” It’s happening again. His chest tightens to the point that he struggles to draw in a breath and his vision blurs out as his eyes fill with tears and— oh god he’s going to die in Steve’s kitchen.

“No, Eddie you’re not going to die, I promise,” says a steady voice firm enough that he almost believes it. Then warm hands pull him into an even warmer body. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, listens to Steve telling him how to breath and slowly, after a long while, the knot starts to loosen and breathing comes easier. Steve doesn’t stop running a soothing hand over his back as Eddie sags into him, suddenly winded. His fists are balled into Steve’s shirt like a scared little kid.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles when he’s gathered enough energy to start feeling embarrassed at how quickly he fell apart.

“Nothing to be sorry about, I swear, happens to the best of us,”

Eddie snorts, “Okay mom,” Steve swats at his arm. Eddie finally pulls away after a while. “Think I really needed that,”

“Hey, if you want, you can come over and trying playing over here?” Steve shrugs. “Maybe a change of location can help, I’ll even hold your hand through it,”

“How am I supposed to play if you’re holding my hand, dummy,” Eddie snarks, hiding his smile behind his hair. “But I’ll think about your offer,” There’s literally nothing to think about, what was he going to say, no? Steve’s answering look tells Eddie he knows too.

And if Eddie leans into Steve when he put his arm around Eddie in the sofa while sharing a blanket, well that’s his business.

[oliversrarebooks]

Human Resistance: Inevitable

tw: brainwashing, mind control, drugging, captivity, dehumanization

Masterlist

Jesse was floating, floating for a long time in a state on the edge between sleep and wakefulness, warm and comfortable and safe. It was an agonizingly slow process that drew him back up towards full consciousness, thoughts and feelings returning to him.

He was hungry. That was his first thought. The resistance had been operating on meager rations for a while, constantly in danger of running out of food, and on top of that, he had no idea how long it had been since he'd last eaten. Even if all they had was canned beans and a bit of forage, he'd be happy to take it, just to quiet the constant nagging of his belly for a little while.

He was just about to sleepily roll out of his cot when he realized he wasn't in his cot at all.

Jesse flew the rest of the distance to alertness as he remembered where he was. He was in a comfortable, padded sort of chair, surrounded by smooth walls and a translucent window to the outside, just big enough to hold one person. He'd been captured, along with Zach, and brought aboard one of the colony ships.

No, it couldn't be. It had to be one of his frequent nightmares. But it was all too vivid and real, and as he instinctively brought his hand to his throat, he felt the thin band of metal, the alien collar marking him as one of theirs. Hand trembling, he followed the band around to the back of his neck, and he felt the spot where it fused into his spine briefly before pulling back in horror.

He'd been collared, controlled, never again to be free unless by some miracle he was rescued and underwent the same risky surgery that Zach had.

Maybe… maybe it was better…

No, they were trying to control his mind. They had to resist.

The pod's cover retracted, and to Jesse's surprise and relief, he was greeted by Zach. Zach miraculously wasn't wearing any collar, and he wasn't with any of the enemy, either. He'd gotten free, somehow, just like Jesse always knew he could.

"You came to rescue me," Jesse croaked out, his voice hoarse from deep sleep. "They collared me. I'm sorry, I couldn't stop them."

Zach frowned. "How are you feeling after that? Are you all right?"

"I feel like I've been drugged, like I can't be as terrified as I should be. It's hard to think. But what about you? They didn't collar you. You're free."

Zach held up his wrist, where a thin band of metal shimmered. "The scarring from my collar removal surgery is too severe. They've given me this temporary device. Our Superior had other obligations, so I'm going to take us where we need to go."

"Temporary collar?" Jesse's heart sank. Zach was under their control after all -- he'd been stupid to hope for different. But still… "If it's temporary, it can be removed, right?" Jesse glanced around to make sure none of the aliens were in the immediate vicinity. "And if you can remove it, that means you might be able to escape."

"Jesse." His face was sad and serious as he put a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "It's over."

"What? No, it's not over!" Jesse shrugged off the hand. "We can't just surrender like this. If they haven't given you a real collar yet, you could escape. You could get back and let the others know where we --"

"Get back to where?"

"To the resistance!"

"And do what?" Zach's eyes were hard. "There's hardly any of us left, Jesse, you know that. We have barely any food, much less weapons. We go back to the resistance and drag it out a few more weeks, just barely surviving, only to end up back here a third time?"

"You can't mean that."

"I'm sorry. I really am. But I've realized now that being a leader means knowing when it's over."

The worst part about what Zach was saying was that Jesse could hardly deny it. He'd thought the same. Jesse had heard the whispers growing louder. He'd been in the strategy meetings that went nowhere because they didn't have enough people or weapons or supplies to carry out a meaningful attack on any of the enemies' larger ships. Lately, they'd barely had enough to ambush the tiniest of transport crafts, save a handful of humans. And so many had simply given up and walked out into the enemy territory. Not to mention those who had taken an even more final way out.

"It can't be over." Jesse had never had a plan for his life. The resistance was the first thing that he'd really cared about, the first place where he'd felt like he'd belonged.

"There might be other groups of resistance fighters still out there. Maybe they'll succeed some day and free us all," said Zach. "But it won't be us. I'm sorry. It's over."

"I'm not just going to accept that. Not even from you." Jesse backed away from Zach, looking around to see if any of the enemy were paying attention. "If you won't even try to get out, then I will."

"You can't --"

As Zach began to march away, a shock came over his body, freezing him in place and dazing his mind. It was like being stunned with a taser, except that there was no pain, just disorientation. The drumbeat of comply - comply - comply rang in his head.

"You can't just leave. Not with one of their collars." Zach had his hands on Jesse's shoulders, guiding him back. "They can detect if you're doing something unauthorized."

"Oh, fuck this," said Jesse. He slammed his fist into one of the pods, not even making a dent. None of the aliens seemed to even notice. He hit it again, and again, and again, until his hand stung.

"Feel better?" asked Zach as Jesse stood there nursing his hand.

"No. What now?"

"We're supposed to report to the infirmary for a physical."

"I don't want some alien examining me," said Jesse half-heartedly, knowing that it didn't matter.

"C'mon."

Zach led them to the room's exit, and this time nothing stopped them. That collar had somehow detected the difference between Zach taking them where they were supposed to go and Jesse trying to escape, before he'd even left the room. He really was fucking screwed.

One of the aliens stopped them at the door, ran a tentacle across Jesse's collar and Zach's wristband, and opened the door. They emerged into a circular corridor with a narrow flat walkway at the bottom. Jesse couldn't help but flinch when an alien rounded the corner. It was reflex after so many years of training to avoid them. And now, he was in the heart of a colony ship, surrounded by the enemy for good.

"Infirmary's right next to the training area."

"How do you know that?"

"All of the pet stations are laid out about the same."

Sure enough, the next set of double glass doors opened for Zach, and they entered a sterile, clinical sort of area. There were a few humans in examination chairs being attended to by aliens, and a few others on tables. At least one looked like they were actually getting some kind of surgery, just out in the open in the clinic.

Before Jesse could balk, he and Zach were each picked up by aliens and deposited in chairs side-by-side. A sensor was attached to Jesse's collar, and the alien was looking back and forth between Jesse and a sort of tablet it was holding. Jesse could only assume that some kind of medical information was being sent to the tablet.

Without warning, one of the tentacles jabbed him in the elbow, releasing another dose of the thing's venom. Jesse relaxed as that sedated feel stole over him again, his cares fading. When the alien next picked up his hands to examine them, he didn't resist -- even though he still knew that his docility was induced by the conditioning, the collar, and the drugs, it didn't help him fight against it.

The aliens clearly didn't care about human pets' privacy, because Jesse could see and hear Zach's physical. An alien was carefully examining his knee. This is overdue for maintenance. How is your locomotion?

"A little stiff and painful, but nothing like it was before my knee was replaced," said Zach.

Your Superior will be contacted to arrange for your maintenance.

"All right."

You will also need your spinal cord repaired where your collar was located. There may also be neurological damage from abruptly stopping your medications.

"I'm aware, yeah."

You and the new pet are both suffering from poor nutrition and sleep deprivation. You require nutrients.

Jesse turned his head to see an alien approaching with a syringe that was way too large for comfort, and even through his sedation he felt his fear rise. "Wait, what is that?"

Nutrition. With no further explanation, the needle was plunged into Jesse's arm, and all he could do was turn away. Zach was having the same thing done to him.

You will receive food. You will attend to hygiene. Once these are complete, you will return to your Superior's chamber and sleep in your pod for a minimum of three-quarters of a cycle. The old pet will guide the new.

"Yeah, all right," said Zach easily.

"Are those orders?" Jesse was trying to fight the drugs in his system, trying to get back some of his fire.

Yes. Those are orders.

Once again, the compulsion to comply and be obedient that the conditioning had drilled into his head kicked in, washing out his thoughts of resistance, at least until the alien started to tug his t-shirt over his head.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

Uniform.

The tentacles moved much faster than Jesse could dodge while slowed down by sedatives, and in a flash it had undressed him and put him in a soft, dark blue garment that was like a cross between a jumpsuit and pajamas. "What are you doing with my clothes?"

They will be delivered to your Superior's chamber. And with that, Jesse's favorite t-shirt was whisked away out of sight.

Your examination is complete. Your health information will be given to your Superior. Your medications will also be given to your Superior. You will now follow your prescribed orders.

"What, don't I get to see my own health info?"

It will be sent to your Superior.

Of course. He shouldn't be surprised. He didn't protest when Zach took his arm and led him out of the infirmary.

"Are you okay?" asked Zach once they'd exited back out into the corridor. He was wearing a uniform identical to Jesse's except in size.

"Other than feeling like an animal sent to the vet, yeah, I guess I'm okay," he said. "Are you?"

"Yeah, that was pretty routine. They're going to send me for maintenance on my knee," said Zach. "Only the doctors at the resistance base knew about this, but the aliens replaced my knee with one of their artificial joints."

"You let them replace your knee?"

Zach chuckled. "Do you really think they asked me?"

"Guess not."

"It was a big improvement, to be honest, even though it needs maintenance. It was starting to get stiff during my time at the base. I guess… well, whatever," said Zach. "They're making us get food, baths, and sleep, and I'm not in the mood to object, are you?"

Jesse was starving by now, and completely wiped from the dangerous mission earlier in the day and the stress of the capture, so that itinerary sounded just fine to him. Not that it would matter even if he were in the mood to object. Zach himself had driven home how pointless it'd be. "No, I'm not," he said. "What's the food like? Gross alien shit? Didn't you say it was replicated?"

Zach had been leading them through a few snaking corridors as they talked, barely paying attention to where he was going. He looked just as confident and at home as he ever had in the base. He was completely used to this, Jesse realized. At ease. At home. As though he'd never even left.

"Yeah, it's replicated," Zach replied. "They can make basically anything you can think of. The texture's way off, but it tastes right. No, I don't know how it works."

"It's probably drugged up, right? Or poisoned."

"If they want to drug us, they just do it. I don't think they put it in the food, but it wouldn't make much of a difference if they did."

They entered the cafeteria, where a lot of people in multi-colored uniforms were eating and chatting. While many of them were dressed in just a plain uniform, a lot of them had embellishments like sparkling hair decorations and flashy jewelry. They were laughing and talking freely, and Jesse hated that they all looked so happy.

Zach approached a row of purple machines on the far wall, picking up a tray and placing it in a window in one of the machines. "This interfaces with your collar. All you have to do is decide what you want to eat, visualize it in your mind, and it'll replicate that for you."

That sounded too good to be true, but Jesse was starving enough to give it a shot. Food had been tight for a long time in the resistance camp. At first there was lots of food to scavenge from populated areas, and the rural areas didn't have much alien surveillance, so they also had access to farms, hunting, and fishing. But the aliens took more and more territory, installing surveillance and flying drones even in remote areas, shrinking what was available to the resistance. The resources that were easy to access had dwindled, especially since they had to move every time one of the encampments was detected.

Jesse didn't miss his old job, but he did miss food from before the invasion. It'd been so long since he'd been able to do something as simple as share a pizza with friends.

"Pepperoni pizza and a coke," he said, trying to imagine how it looked and tasted. The machine whirred and deposited his meal on the tray. The cup of cola looked normal, but the pizza slices looked more like a plastic model of pizza than the real thing. "You're sure this is edible, Zach?"

"Edible enough." Zach had summoned a huge plate of tacos, which had the same toy-like quality. "Try it and find out."

They sat down at an unoccupied table, and Jesse experimentally lifted the slice of "pizza" to his nose. It was warm, and it did smell right. His stomach growled in protest. Across from him, Zach began wolfing down tacos like there was no tomorrow.

He finally took a bite. Zach had been right, the texture was off, a little too spongy to be pizza. But it tasted good, and soon Jesse was shoveling his food down too. God, he'd missed this. He'd missed having enough food to eat at all. It was almost enough to make him forget the strangeness of eating lunch in a colony ship.

By the time he'd finished, Jesse's misgivings about the food had quieted, and he went back to the machine for more pizza and some wings. When he got back to the table, there was a young woman in an orange uniform sitting next to Zach, her thick ponytail bobbing as she talked. Jesse realized who she was -- Nina, one of the runners for the human resistance, who'd disappeared on a mission around two months ago.

"Jesse, hey! Good to see you!" she said as cheerful as anything.

"Is it good to see me? I've been captured."

She shrugged as though it weren't a big deal. He guessed it wasn't to her. If she'd been here for a couple of months, she'd probably already been fully conditioned and turned to their side.

"We just got here earlier today," said Zach. "It's going to take some time for Jesse to adjust."

Jesse noticed that he didn't include himself in that statement. "I'm in no hurry to adjust."

Nina brushed it off. "I understand it better now, what you were going through, Zach. I can't imagine being pulled out of here. It must've been hard."

He shot a glance at Jesse before answering. "Yeah, it was. But I'm back now."

"So you defected?"

"No," he said tersely.

"Really? I did."

"You defected?" said Jesse.

"Well, yeah. Things were hell, and it's not like we really had a chance."

Jesse stood up, pushing his tray away. "We were doing our fucking best! We all thought you had been caught, not that you'd willingly thrown yourself away! You were one of the last decent runners in the place, and you just -- you just -- " He wobbled, dizzy from the drugs he'd been given earlier, his thoughts scattering. Maybe it was the collar, too, keeping him in line.

Zach stood up and pushed Jesse back down into his seat. "Calm down, Jesse. She's been conditioned, you know that."

"How does that make it better? They're going to do the same thing to us, aren't they? Or I guess they've already done it to you. Am I the only one left who think humanity deserved a better future?"

The cafeteria was silent around him, all eyes on Jesse, He could feel the eyes of the alien supervisors on him, no doubt just waiting to drug him and drag him off if he stepped too far out of line. But none of that really mattered, because the look on Zach's face was heartbreaking.

"C'mon, Zach. Don't you think we all deserved better?"

"I think that we don't always get what we deserve."

Jesse felt like he could cry. "Am I the only one left who believes the resistance has a chance?"

The silence was deafening. Jesse sat down again, defeated.

"Sorry," said Nina. "I know we were doing our best. I didn't mean to say…"

"Whatever. I don't care what you think," said Jesse. "I'm sure the magical brainwashing boxes will convince me that defecting is a-okay, and then we can be the best of friends."

"I think I'm going to go," she said, standing up. "Sorry I upset you. I'm glad I got to see you two again." Nina picked up her tray and practically ran to a different table.

"Are you okay with that?" asked Jesse.

"Okay with what?"

"She just admitted to defecting. She was a traitor."

"What would you like me to do, Jesse, scold her? Get her arrested? I'm not a leader of anything anymore, and the aliens certainly aren't going to punish her for doing what they want."

Jesse knew he was right, but it still stung. If less people had given up and defected, maybe they still would've had a chance. But it wasn't like they could compete with infinite free food.

Or maybe Jesse had just been a shit leader.

Maybe if Zach had never gotten captured, it wouldn't have turned out this way. Sometimes he couldn't help being angry at Zach for that, even if it wasn't his fault.

"We did deserve better," Zach said. "You're not wrong about that. You deserved better, a better leader than me."

"Don't say that. You're a great leader. None of this was your fault."

"It was my fault you got captured."

"I chose to go on the mission with you. It's not like I don't do dangerous missions all the time," said Jesse. "And without you as leader… I didn't know what I was doing. That's when everything started going downhill. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

"It's definitely not your fault. Don't even say that." Zach sighed. "Maybe this was all just inevitable. Maybe most of us are better off this way."

"You don't mean that. That's what the aliens are putting in your head."

Zach didn't look especially convinced. "Sure."

Jesse's heart sank, his appetite lost, and for the first time since they'd been captured, he wondered if it really might be the end of the line. He saw what the alien conditioning did to Zach the first time, what it was doing to him even now. They'd do the same to him. He could already feel it starting, the all too tempting urge to just accept life as a pet on a colony ship. It had to be so much stronger for Zach.

Who would be left to rescue them? To rehabilitate them, the way Zach had been? Who would have the time, the resources, the skills? And then what?

"Hey, Jesse," said Zach. "If you're done eating, we're supposed to be hitting the showers. We could both use it."

Jesse's ravenous appetite from earlier was gone. "Yeah, I'm done. Let's go."

They passed a kind of gymnasium on the way to the showers, the big round windows revealing people jogging and playing basketball. It looked bizarrely normal. "How the hell is there a basketball court on the colony ship?" asked Jesse.

"They copied a lot of human things. They were probably studying us before the invasion, too. There's a lot of random things on the ship like the basketball courts that they built to try to keep people happy: swimming pools, parks, theaters, things like that."

Jesse tried not to be happy about that. It wasn't a fair tradeoff for freedom. He had to stay on his guard and not let himself think of this as a home, or think of the aliens as benevolent. They were the enemy.

"Here we are." The double doors to the bathing area opened and Jesse wasn't quite prepared for it. The showers were all out in the open, surrounding a large bathing pool. People of every gender were lounging around stark naked with zero privacy. Jesse didn't think of himself as a prude, but he felt a little self-conscious about it.

"The aliens don't really have a concept of personal privacy," said Zach, noticing his discomfort. "It's something you get used to."

"Right," said Jesse. It wasn't like he hadn't been in locker rooms before. This just felt different somehow.

Zach walked over to a set of cubbies and pulled his uniform off. "Oh, I should warn you that the soap's a little drugged."

Jesse groaned. "Good to know." He tried not to look at Zach or anyone else as he took off his uniform and stood under one of the showers. There were bottles in various bright colors -- probably the soap. He would've loved to properly wash off the day's sweat, but he'd have to do with washing in just water. At least the shower was hot, with good pressure, and as he stood under the spray, he couldn't help but relax.

At least, he could relax until he looked over and saw Zach lathering up with some neon green chemical.

"What the hell, Zach? You just told me the soap was drugged."

Zach shrugged. "We're going to go to bed after this. It doesn't really matter. What's your plan, never use soap the rest of your life?"

Jesse wanted to retort that he wasn't going to be here the rest of his life, but the words stuck in his throat. "Whatever. I guess you're right. It doesn't matter."

The provided towels were enormous and soft, and Zach looked considerably more relaxed as they toweled off -- which made sense considering he'd just voluntarily doused himself in drugged alien goop. Jesse tried to push down the uneasy sense of betrayal, to see Zach treat it so casually after he'd survived all those nightmarish drug withdrawals. All that work was gone in less than a day, and Zach didn't even seem to care.

The uniforms in the cubbies were freshly washed and warm, and Jesse was pretty sure that his wasn't the same one he had been wearing earlier.

"Last stop, home -- I mean, we're going to our Superior's home to sleep," said Zach.

Jesse wasn't sure why Zach thought that correction made it better. He'd certainly noticed Zach becoming more and more comfortable with situation as the day wore on, and now he was leading Jesse through the corridors with an easy gait. Like they weren't prisoners. Like he really did think of this place as home.

Either they'd reactivated all of his old conditioning with terrifying speed, or it had never really left Zach, and neither option was comforting.

"Our Superior lives in a restricted area of the ship. We'll get a fast transport there."

"Do you have to call him 'our Superior'?"

Zach looked startled, as if he hadn't realized he was doing that. "…It's shorter than 'the alien who kept me as a pet.'"

"I guess it is."

The transport station was a bustling area full of aliens, humans, and cargo. Here was a small train filling up with people, there was a platform the size of a semi-truck being loaded with containers, over there was a little round capsule with a single alien in it zipping away.

An alien stopped them before they could approach the platform. "Location?"

Zach rattled off some designation. The alien consulted a device and waved him through. "Wait on platform G for transport 78."

Jesse glanced around half-heartedly. With all of the commotion, there was probably a way for him to escape if he were clever and fast enough. But he was feeling neither clever nor fast. Despite avoiding the drugged soap, he'd felt increasingly slow since the meal in the cafeteria, and the prospect of escape was less appealing. He'd probably been drugged after all, or else it was the collar influencing him.

A little car with just enough room for the two of them approached the platform, and at a loss for what else to do, Jesse followed Zach into it. It pulled away and immediately plunged into a tunnel that was dark except for a strip of dim light along the top. Even though the ride was smooth, Jesse couldn't help the feeling that he was on a roller coaster.

That wasn't the only reason his stomach was churning. It was sinking in that they were headed to the alien who had decided to keep them both as pets, the one who would easily dull their minds and blunt their desire for freedom. They'd be drugged and conditioned until their minds gave in, and Zach would be reduced to the state he was in when he'd been rescued, fighting the medics and calling out for the enemy. And this time, Jesse would be right there with him.

"It'll be nice to get a good night's sleep," said Zach, apparently not sharing Jesse's fears.

"I can't say I'm so keen to sleep among the enemy."

"It's not like we have a choice." Zach wasn't wrong, but his words felt hollow when he'd been so clearly content with going "home." "Our… the aliens' place isn't so bad. There's a big window on the ceiling where you can watch the sky."

"Aren't you worried, Zach? Worried that if we go there, we're never going to get out again?"

The pause before Zach's answer spoke volumes. "Maybe I didn't expect to get out in the first place."

Jesse didn't know what to say after that. The tunnels where they traveled were warm and dark, and despite all of his fear, Jesse felt his eyelids droop with sleep. He was so tired so suddenly, and maybe it was because he'd had such a long day filled with stress and terror. It was hard to believe that just this morning he'd been at the resistance base, preparing for his mission to scavenge food from a mall. As Jesse fought to keep himself awake, Zach let out a huge yawn, and Jesse couldn't keep from imitating it.

"You're tired, too?" said Jesse.

"Collar's kicking in. We're supposed to go to sleep soon, so it signals your brain to produce more melatonin, stuff like that. At least that's how it was explained to me."

"Great." It was great to know that the aliens could just knock him the fuck out whenever they pleased. He wasn't especially surprised -- he half expected the thing could shock him if he stepped out of line. Even that thought couldn't stop his eyes from wanting to shut.

The car came to a stop at a different platform, one which had far more aliens than humans. Before they could even get out, an alien rushed over to them and plucked them up.

"It's an escort," said Zach. "Our Superior is the captain, so he lives near the ship's bridge, which is highly restricted. Humans like us aren't allowed to go around freely without an escort."

"So we're prisoners."

"Well, we were captured."

"We were captured," Jesse echoed, still far too sleepy given the situation he was in. If only he could fight that collar, stop it from worming its way into his brain.

After winding their way down several identical-looking corridors, Zach and Jesse were deposited in front of a large round door. Their escort slid back, but stayed there to watch as Zach pressed his hand to a panel and the door slid open.

With only brief hesitation, Jesse followed Zach into a cabin about the size of a large studio apartment. The walls were all lined with shelves and the shelves were all covered with unidentifiable, colorful objects, a collection of some kind. Netting hung from the ceiling in several places -- the aliens apparently liked to use netting as a sort of hammock, wrapping their tentacles around the ropes. In one corner of the room was a pod similar to the one he'd been forced into for collaring. It was noticeably larger, and there was a rack with a few bins next to it. An alien -- their new owner, presumably, although Jesse couldn't hope to tell any of them apart -- was sitting in a net, screens hovering in front of its face, looking as if it were doing work. Everything was bathed in the orange glow of a setting sun, coming from the big round skylight.

But the thing that caught Jesse's attention most of all was the smile and look of sheer relief on Zach's face.

He had truly missed this. He was happy to be back.

And that meant Jesse was completely doomed.

You are home. The alien picked up Zach in its tentacles and pulled him close, Zach offering no resistance.

"Hey --" said Jesse, wondering if he should do something. He was far too slow to dodge as another tentacle reached out and grabbed him by the waist, more tentacles supporting his weight as he was drawn closer to the alien and Zach.

You have done well to guide your companion.

"Thank you," said Zach.

Now it is time for both of you to sleep. The alien ruffled a tentacle through Jesse's hair with what seemed to be affection. Jesse wanted to flinch away, but drowsiness was stealing over him again. Next to him, Zach was leaning into it, allowing himself to be pet like a prized cat.

There is a larger sleep pod now to accommodate two pets.

Jesse looked over at the pod in the corner and realized that he was meant to sleep there next to Zach. He glanced over at Zach, far too comfortable in the alien's arms, and saw no particular reaction. He'd probably been expecting this. The aliens really didn't have a notion of privacy for humans.

The alien set them both down on their feet and pushed them gently towards the pod. Zach walked over without hesitation, looking in one of the bins next to it. "All of my things are still here."

Your return was inevitable.

Jesse shuddered. Zach's old owner had just been waiting for him. Waiting for the human resistance to further falter, waiting for Zach to be once again captured. He had all of the time and advantages on his side.

Zach climbed into the pod, an expression of sheer contentment washing over him as he flopped backwards onto the cushions. It was if all the cares and worries of being their leader were wiped away and he could finally relax.

That was it, wasn't it? That was why Zach's return here had been inevitable. The fate of the human race in the face of impossible odds was far too much for one man. They'd thrust him into the role, trusting him, asking him to make the hardest decisions, plastering his face on posters and propaganda, and he'd gone along with it all, because how could he possibly refuse to try and save humanity? Zach cared too much, and he hurt too much, and Jesse hadn't really understood until Zach was gone and he was forced to try to fill his shoes. Even then, all he did was wonder what Zach would have done.

"C'mon, Jesse," said Zach. "We need our sleep. It's comfortable."

He didn't want to go in the pod. Some part of him felt that if he went into the pod and experienced the relaxation Zach was experiencing, he'd never come out as himself again, the point of no return. They'd both be mindless, adoring pets of an alien ship captain, lounging around eating replicated food while the last of humanity fell.

One of the alien's eyes bloomed before him, and he didn't look away in time. His mind gave in too eagerly, ready to be rid of all of those anxious thoughts.

You will be an obedient little thing.

"I… I will be obedient…"

It's time to sleep. Rest in the sleep pod next to your companion.

His shoulders slumped, his head pitching forward with exhaustion. "It's time to sleep…"

That is correct. You are docile. You will obey.

"I am docile. I will obey."

The hypnotic eye left his line of sight, leaving Jesse swaying in its trance, sleepwalking towards the pod. Zach's eyes were closed and his breathing even, already asleep in minutes. Jesse climbed in beside him and sank into the cushioning. It was so satisfying, like resting on a cloud.

Go to sleep, little one. The cover sealed over the sleep pod, and they were plunged into darkness for a minute before soft, pulsating lights filled the small chamber. They were mesmerizing to look at as they swirled and twinkled, and Jesse found his eyelids lowering, impossible to stay awake. A sound like soft rains was playing, and he could hear undertones of alien language underneath it.

He wanted to sleep. He wanted to obey.

They were brainwashing him in his sleep.

He just barely managed to muster up some alarm, lifting his heavy arm to nudge Zach. "Zach. Zach, wake up."

"…What…?"

"They're using the sleep pods to condition us. Don't you hear it?"

"Mmm, yeah, our Superior picks the sleep program for us each night. Don't worry about it."

"Don't… worry…" Jesse wanted to do something, to fight against the influence, but not as badly as he wanted to sleep. He was so warm and drowsy and all he wanted to do was close his tired eyes.

He felt himself start to drift, unable to resist, and then he was asleep.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading my whumpy daydreams! I hope you enjoyed reading about Jesse's last day of freedom.

[jo-writes-fanfic]

Love & Mischief

Loki x Female!Reader

Rating: M (Mature)

Warnings: There's nothing explicit, some allusions to sex, probably language, violence, and heavy descriptions of grief and loss, although there is somewhat of a happy ending.

Word count: About 2.9k

Synopsis: You're Asgard's goddess of love and loyalty, but you've lost your god of mischief, how do you move forward?

Author’s note: This is set in Thor Love and Thunder. Also if you've ever seen the last scene of the show Reign, it has an inspiration in this fic too. I've had a lot of grief and loss in my life lately and this felt very therapeutic to write. I've tried writing for Loki a couple of times but always chickened out, so I really hope y'all enjoy this and hopefully there will be more to come!

I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

“And what are you the goddess of?” 

The words resounded in your head again and again and again.

When Hela said those words to you, years ago, you had fired back, so sure of yourself and your role in Asgard, your role in your life, your role in his life. 

But now…

What was a goddess of loyalty and love who no longer had love? Who no longer believed in such things as fate and security in love? 

Your powers should have died when he did. 

It was an odd pairing to many, you knew. But it worked perfectly, your strengths and weaknesses worked in tandem and created a love worth fighting for. 

But the fight was gone. 

The god of mischief (and betrayal- some would argue) and the goddess of loyalty and love were a match made in Valhalla. 

Until he was gone, ripped from you so violently that you still woke up screaming from nightmares regularly. 

You sat next to your king in New Asgard during another security council meeting. 

You were completely zoned out, thinking of bright blue-green eyes, dark curls, and a blade-thin smile. Valkyrie nudged you. “Hey, tone it down, you're bumming out the whole room,” she whispered. 

You sighed and blinked out of your reverie, and finally noticed that the mood of the room, despite the recent good news that had been received (you can’t remember what it was - honestly, you forgot to pay attention, these meetings were very dull and tended to drone on) was altogether glum. 

“Sorry,” you whispered back and reigned your mood in. 

Normally, your powers were extremely helpful; tightening the bonds of loyalty in those around you, increasing love in both romantic and familial bonds, reading others moods - often influencing them, and sometimes even manipulating loyalties. But currently, drowning in grief as you had been the past several years, your powers were more of a burden than anything. 

The heaviness in the room instantly lightened, and the conversation flowed in a more productive direction once more. 

“We need to talk about these moods of yours,” Val said once she was satisfied that the meeting was going better. 

“No thanks,” you grumbled, and promptly zoned out once more. You really preferred it when Thor was also a mess, before he got his shit together, and you weren’t the only one that hadn’t moved on from the repercussions of the war with Thanos. But you know what they say, misery loves company. And back then, no one nagged you as much to get your shit together. 

“A little help here?” the king asked you, irritation in her tone. 

Another disagreement had broken out, this time a fist fight. Honestly, you found it amusing and were inclined to let it go on for a while, but when Val glared at you, you stood up and clapped once. 

Everyone stopped their movements immediately and looked up at you. 

“Enough,” you said sternly. “Asgard, though we may have differing opinions, we all fight for the same thing, the prospering of New Asgard. Remember that,” you ordered, infusing the room with compliance, reminding them of their bonds of loyalty. 

Everyone looked sheepish and sat back down. 

You flourished a hand to Val and said, “My king,” giving her the floor. 

She gave them all a rousing speech, it was honestly quite good, some of her best work, and then ended the dreadful meeting early, much to your relief. 

“Good job, boss. Well, I’m off-” 

“Not so fast,” she said as she caught your arm. 

You sighed once again. 

“Do we need to talk about this? About Lo-” 

“Don’t say his name,” you hissed and the tension in the room raised significantly as your anger and grief filled the space, making the large room feel claustrophobic.  

She sighed and took your hand. 

“Look, I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through and what you’ve lost. We can all feel it from time to time and I know it’s an incredibly heavy burden. I’m just concerned for you and want to help you,” she said. 

With tears in your eyes, you nodded. 

“I’m concerned about me too,” you mumbled. 

“What can I do to help? Tell me.  Anything,” she practically begged. 

“Nothing, unless you can drag him back from Valhalla,” you muttered and brushed past her. 

And life continued to trudge forward. As a goddess, never had such a short amount of years felt so long, an eternity really. 

You felt as if you were stuck in a time loop and every day was close to the same. 

You woke up and for a split second forgot he was gone and reached across your bed to find it cold. Then, a wave of grief hit you that was so heavy, each and every time, that you forgot how to breathe. 

Eventually you forced yourself out of bed, shoved some food in your mouth as you rushed out the door and met Valkyrie for early morning training. Then you usually sat by the sea and stared as the sun rose in the sky, thinking of him but trying so hard not to. And again, you forced yourself on. 

You completed your daily tasks as the King’s right hand goddess; meetings, meetings, and more meetings usually. Most nights you sat at the bar, watched Valkyrie drink an ungodly amount, then when you got bored enough you walked through New Asgard. 

You walked and walked, thinking if you moved enough, if you stayed ahead of your sadness, maybe it wouldn’t catch you in the morning. 

It always did. 

Rinse and repeat. 

There were differences of course, sometimes, you had to leave New Asgard to do the whole ambassador thing. Occasionally Thor came to visit and brought along his various cohorts and problems.  

Today was one of those days. You were improving in your hand to hand combat skills, according to your King, through your daily rigorous training sessions, which pleased you since you spent most days feeling like you wanted to fight the whole nine realms. And then, following your routine, you sat on the cliffside and stared at the sea. 

You never even got to give him a proper funeral, you thought, which then made you think of Frigga and the beautiful funeral service for her that you had watched through tears. 

A voice called your name, you looked back and for a moment, a blink and you miss it moment, you saw him. A flash of green-blue eyes and inky black hair, your heart skipped a beat and the vision was gone. 

You shook your head in an attempt to clear it, honestly these flashes of him you’ve been having lately should be concerning, but instead you clung to them, desperate for any connection to him that you could get. 

Although the true sight before you was one that made you smile, as Thor came up and wrapped you in a bear hug. 

You wheezed and when he finally put you down he chuckled heartily. 

“How are you?” he asked and you gave him a look like he should know the answer to that question. 

“Well I have something that should cheer you right up,” he said as he steered you back towards the town. 

“Does it involve needing my help to fight another dangerous life-threatening bad guy?” you asked wryly. 

“Perhaps….” he said. 

You huffed a laugh and said, “I’m in.” 

The threat you were fighting turned out to be a whole lot more dangerous and life-threatening than you anticipated. 

Which is how you found yourself on a ship with Thor, Jane, Valkyrie, and Korg on an unfortunate adventure to confront the God Butcher. 

Watching Thor and Jane fall back in love was not doing much for your mood. Val handed you another drink and you downed it. 

“Hey, hey, you’re totally bringing down the vibe, mate. This is supposed to be about love,” Korg said to you. You huffed and rolled your eyes. 

You made an effort to lessen the dark cloud you’d brought on the ship. 

“Do you think you’ll ever find love again?” Val asked you, after she confessed that she’d avoided any serious relationships for decades. 

“No,” you said, like it was final. 

“Really?” Korg asked. “Shouldn’t the goddess of love fall in love easily?” 

You shot him a glare. 

“I love. I love a great many people. But true love, like soulmates and shit, that only comes once in a lifetime. And after you’ve had it, you’re pretty much ruined for anything less. So no, I don’t think I’ll ever truly find love again,” you said with a sigh. 

“Heavy,” he replied and you cracked up. 

You laughed so hard you snorted, and at first your friends looked at you in shock, then joined you in laughter, and the room filled with love once again, the love of friendship, and you realized you’ve been overlooking the amount of love you actually had in your life due to your grief. 

You grabbed Val’s hand and patted Korg’s disembodied head, and watched Thor and Jane reignite their flame of love. 

“I love you all and am grateful for all the support you’ve given me,” you said. 

“No final confessions,” Valkyrie said, “this is not the end for any of us.” 

You nodded and then the ship reached its destination. The shadow realm yawned open in front of your vision and you gulped. 

You had this horrible feeling, like dread, in the pit of your stomach, and you saw him again. That flash you’ve seen so many times recently, but more and more frequently since this misadventure started and that dread molted in your stomach into resolve. 

You were certain and you were ready. 

Of course the plan went immediately sideways. You crossed swords with Gorr the God Butcher and your heart threatened to pound out of your chest. 

Yes, your sword fighting skills had improved, but not enough to be a good match for a seasoned warrior and god killer. 

“What are you the Goddess of? Are you even worth my sword?” he growled out. 

You gritted your teeth and went on the attack. Your rage filled the space as you dodged, slashed, and pushed him as hard as you could. 

You could hear your friends yelling, but you couldn’t lose your focus even for a moment as he pushed back and fought with skill beyond your own. 

And you realized you’d been doing this all wrong. You were fighting without your biggest asset, your own natural gifts and abilities. The powers that made you a goddess of Asgard. 

He didn’t notice your impact on his mood because your rage didn’t even touch the deep well of his own, he didn’t feel your rage due to the mountain that was his own. 

No, rage wouldn’t work, you thought, and as your swords crossed again you used your other hand to grab his. 

Your power was more potent when you were skin to skin.

You poured love and loyalty into your enemy, thinking only of happiness and good memories, trying to lessen his rage. Trying to decrease his fight, hoping to convince him to put down his sword. 

Your breath caught into a gasp as his emotions infected your own. His love and loyalty were intertwined with an ocean of grief. Just like your own. 

And you were drowning. 

His emotions, his rage at the injustice and unfairness and unending sadness felt so close to your own emotions that you were thrown back into a memory. 

Your worst memory, actually, the day you lost him for good. And you knew your enemy was in his worst memory as well. The origin of his grief. 

Just like you watched the origin of your grief as it unfolded in front of you once more. The reason for your nightmares, the reason you woke up screaming, you stepped back and gasped as the memory overcame you. 

And Gorr did the same. 

You think the sound might be the worst part. Loki’s choking. Or maybe it was the snapping sound, like a branch, a snap that ended everything for him. And for you. 

And then there’s the sight. You couldn’t even describe it, it was too awful to explain. You’ve never spoken about it, even in the therapy sessions your King forced you to attend. 

He thudded to the ground and you gasped as the vision cleared. 

You were drowning in your own grief and it was clear Gorr was more accustomed to drowning than you. 

He recovered one second quicker, and your battlefield reflexes were not quite up to par. 

You slashed your sword up but all it did was clang against his where it was embedded in your stomach. 

All the air whooshed from your lungs. 

“You are not a god that deserves death, are you?” he said as he cocked his head. “But you lost faith in yourself, in what you stand for.” 

You weren’t even sure you felt the pain. Maybe the shock inhibited your ability to feel any pain. You’d been injured before, sure, but you always felt the sharpness of it. But of course you’ve never been hurt this severely. 

You tried to speak, but it came out as a groan. 

“I am sorry,” he said and slowly slid the sword from your abdomen and you fell to your knees. Blood gushed and you saw that flash again. 

“Beautiful,” you mumbled as you saw the flash of a wry smirk, eyes full of love, and a hand outstretched towards you. Beckoning you. 

Finally, you thought. 

The last thing you heard was Thor roaring and your king calling your name as she caught you before your body hit the ground. 

There was darkness, utter darkness, and then a solid weight beneath you. 

You realized you were laying down. You were laying on the most comfortable bed you’d ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. 

Sleeping? Are you sleeping? Wasn’t there something…something painful? You couldn’t remember. 

You blinked your eyes open and let out all the air in your lungs. 

Your eyes filled with tears, this time happy tears. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you cried happy tears. 

Loki laid beside you, close enough for you to touch, staring at you with such love in his eyes that tears spilled down your cheeks. 

“Oh,” you gasped. 

He reached out and cupped your cheek, wiping the tears away. 

You sobbed, and he shushed you even as he pulled you closer. You buried your face in his bare chest and he crushed you against him, so tight, tight enough that you were sure he would never let you go again. 

He ran his hand up and down your back, and with a start you realized you were void of clothes as well. 

You awoke in the afterlife just as you would have every day of the best years of your life with him; naked in his bed after a night of making love with adoration in his eyes as he watched you sleep. 

You took a shuddering breath and pulled back to look at him in the eyes once more, your hands never leaving his body, you ran them up his chest, across his face, twirled your fingers in his hair. 

“This is Valhalla, isn’t it?” you asked. 

“Yes, my love,” he said, and kissed the fresh tears on your cheeks away. 

Then he kissed your lips. It was a delicate thing at first, but then it molted and grew until it felt exactly like it used to. The kiss cemented you to him, secured you right where you should be, where he had been waiting for you. 

And all of the pain you experienced before that kiss didn’t even matter anymore. Because you loved him and he loved you, and that’s all. 

His lips moved against yours and your tears mixed with his and it was perfect. You loved him, that’s all. 

You weren’t angry at him for dying and leaving you alone. You weren’t drowning in heavy emotions anymore. You held no grudges or hard feelings over anyone or anything anymore, not now that you were in the arms of your greatest love once more. 

“It’s been so long,” you gasped out when he pulled back and smiled. 

“I know,” he said with a small smile. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. 

“I am as well,” he replied, simply and sweetly. 

You felt light as a feather. You felt released from your pain and anguish. You were with him again, and that’s all that mattered. 

“Isn’t the introduction to Valhalla traditionally supposed to be much different?” you asked. 

He smirked and mischief twinkled in his eyes, “It is possible I managed to bend some rules for you.” 

You huffed a laugh and pulled him into another kiss. One that could’ve lasted seconds or could’ve lasted a lifetime. It didn’t really matter. You had eternity in the hall of warriors with your Loki, and you were secure knowing you died fighting for the ones you loved. 

“Would you like me to give you the grand tour?” he whispered in your ear as he pulled back from your lips and began kissing his way across your skin. 

“Maybe later,” you said as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him atop of you. 

“We have an eternity,” he promised and kissed you, slow and deep. 

Tagging those who showed interest in this fic (thanks for the support!) : @thespiralstaircasewriter @bellaisasleep @elly-hiddlesherloki @izhunny @drachenkinder @spacefloosie

[betterfettered]

Can I please have yandere Natasha who wants to pamper her fem daring? However, her fem darling refuses her affection. (As the one shot story if that's okay).

Hey bby! I tried to include a little tid bit about your OCs too :) (AFAB!reader x AFAB!yandere, cis wlw)(noncon)(drugging)(kidnapping)(gaslighting)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(Please let me know if I am missing a TW)[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Even after you know that Natasha is long gone, it takes you an hour or two before you try to escape. It feels like she has eyes everywhere, like she can detect your every breath , so you move painstakingly slowly to your feet. As soon as you are standing up completely, your head swims and your legs threaten to buckle out from beneath you; you have been sick for a long time, though, so that does not stop you from shuffling over to the locked window and gazing out at the jarring, sunlit thoroughfare beneath you. You know nothing about the tiny people you can see walking around on the ground several stories below you, an odd twist of fate considering that you have lived your entire life beneath their feet as a citizen of the Underworld, so you can only wonder if they would help you if they knew your predicament. You’d never beat against the glass hard enough for anyone to notice, but if they did, would they wave to you and promise to save you? Would they cry themselves seeing your tears?

            You don’t even make it to the door. Pain shoots out from most of your leg joints after only a few steps until you collapse to the ground, rolling over onto your side to curl into fetal position and sob. It isn’t that you don’t have the will, as you have never wanted more in your life than to leave this room – your body just won’t move, even to wipe away your tears, even though your heart is pounding at the thought of being found here.

            After a few hours, when you’re already in significant pain from staying in the same position for so long, the door swings open and hits the top of your head. You groan, curling into yourself a little, and hear Natasha gasp in horror.

            “Oh, heavens. My love, are you okay?” she says, the door locking behind her with a snap. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

            None too gently, Natasha slides her arms underneath you and stands, raising you from the ground, then carries you back to the bed. She is exceedingly careful in how she lays you down, making sure that all of your limbs are rested in an ergonomic fashion, even though you feel the way her fingers wander.

            “Please, follow my instructions so that we can make sure that you’re not injured.”

            One of her hands lies on your face and strokes your cheek, her expression trying to conceal her fear.

            “Tell me where you are right now.”

            “No.”

            “No, you don’t know where you are?”

            “No, I won’t do what you ask,” you say, shaking your head and feeling tears burning your eyes. “I want to go home.”

            She nods, the smile on her face a little stiff, then brushes your leaking eyes with her thumb.

            “I understand,” she says, turning from you to go and fetch the groceries. “I know just the thing to make you feel better. Then I’ll send you back home as you wish.”

            You’re so shocked for a second that you feel like your body keeps crying while you are completely still. Did she say you could go home? You can’t believe it – you’ve been trapped in this hotel room for so long that you’ve lost count of the days. Your heart soars at the possibility of talking to your sister again, even thought you hadn’t sought her out before and don’t even know if she’s still alive: your memory of her has been your only solace in this unending nightmare of being “helped” by Natasha, your imaginary manifestation of her being the your sole source of happiness.

            Natasha approaches again with syringe in hand, her smile more relaxed now.

            “One last bit of medicine to help with your pain before you go,” she says, and then places her hand on your shoulder, running it gently along the skin down to your inner elbow. Once there, she feels around for a second to find your vein.

            “One two three, be brave!” she says, and then spears the needle into your arm, thumb pressing its liquid into your vein. “Now, let me get your bag ready and write down some discharge instructions.”

            She grabs your chin and tugs you towards her, pressing her lips onto yours snaking her tongue into your mouth and grabbing your hair to pull you closer. You don’t want to waste energy on struggling, so you allow her to invade you like that, clenching your hand to have another sensation to focus on.

            “I would be so devastated if something happened to you once you leave, after all,” Natasha coos after pulling away. She flashes you another grin for a second, and then heads to the wardrobe within your room. Once there, she pulls out the bag you’d been carrying when she lured you in, drops it onto the floor, and begins folding up your street clothes to place inside of it.

            For a moment, you think the strange sensation bubbling within you is anxiety, and then you gag so hard aloud that it sounds like a cough. Your entire body feels bad, somehow, but you can’t tell what it is because you feel distant from it, panicking and gagging over and over.

            “Natasha,” you cry out, unable to lift yourself up from how fast the room is spinning you into dizziness. “Natasha!”

            She continues folding your clothing.

            “There’s something wrong! Help, please.”

            That makes her turn around, her expression curious.

            “Something wrong? Like what?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “That’s fine then, I’m sure you can take care of it at home with over the counter meds,” she says, turning back to the closet and grabbing your jacket to fold.

            “No, I can’t,” you gasp between your retching, starting to sob. “Something’s really wrong. Help me. Please, Nat, I’m begging. I’m…begging, I don’t want to die.”

            At this, she turns from her folding work.

            “Begging for what?” she asks, smarmy innocence in her tone. All the while she walks towards you.

            “For help.”

  ��         “Oh, did you need me?”

            “Please!”

            “Say it.”

            “I need you. I need you to help me. I’m really sick.”

            “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along, darling,” she says, wrapping her arms around you. You can feel the warmth of her breath fanning along the apples of your cheeks. “You need to be here. Without me, you’d be suffering so much, right?”

            You nod.

            She relinquishes you, pulls your arms away from where you’d been instinctively protecting your breasts from her, and injects your inner elbow again with a different syringe from her pocket.

After only a few seconds, you feel so much better, your limbs feeling like jello and your mind a little fuzzy, but free of the continuous gagging.

She presses her lips to yours, exhaling in pleasure at their softness, at the way your plush body yields when she gropes and then presses into you. You lie still and let her do what she wants until you feel her hand groping your pussy, squeezing it and running her fingers along it in tandem. When you start to struggle against the stimulation, she bites your lip hard enough that the taste of iron seeps onto your taste buds.

            “Let’s start your check up again,” she pants, pulling away. “It’s always best to test someone’s well being with all of your senses. So right now, let me check you with my mouth.”

            Your heart sinks, but you don’t want her to inject you with whatever she had before. Letting your eyes press shut, hot tears spilling down to your temples, tears threaten your eyes when she kisses you again. You can’t help but cringe feeling her hands on your tits, massaging them aggressively; at the same time, the way your cheeks heat up feels completely unfamiliar. The sound of a breathy moan escaping from your mouth shocks you – you realize that Natasha pushing your shirt aside and using her tongue to stroke away the pain her fingers pinching your nipples left behind is making your clit a little stiff.

            “Stop,” you whine, trying to turn your chest away from her mouth, the arousal building up in the pit of your stomach getting harder to ignore.

            “Of course,” Natasha says, kissing either of your tits. “I know what you’re looking for.”

            Her hand sliding up from your cunt to the top of your underwear is so quick you don’t notice it happening; how exposed you are only becomes clear when she buries her face in your pussy, sucking and tonguing your clit while her fingers, roughly jammed into you, start to rub up hard against your G-spot.

            You open your mouth to ask her to stop, but only hear yourself panting, your hips bucking and squirming against her face. You dig your nails into the crook of your elbow as though that will take out whatever she drugged you with to make you feel like this.

            “I don’t want this,” you moan, unable to stop pressing your pussy against her mouth. “What did you do to me? I – agh!”

            Your entire body shudders endlessly, strange noises flooding out of your mouth at her unrelenting tongue sliding back and forth against you while you cum over and over. You feel embarrassed at how you’re writhing and yelping like an animal, but she won’t stop until you are trembling and trying to scoot your overstimulated core away from her. At that, she straddles you on the bed, both hands squeezing you all over.

            “It makes me so happy when you feel good,” she says. “I just want to ride your cute face. But you must be worn out, so maybe tomorrow.”

            Shivering from the disgusting mess between your legs and allowing yourself to cry quietly, you wonder if you should have just coped with the poison instead.