#you have no idea how much I love this chapter

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Park Jongseong

doll!jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft dom!jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), punishment, pussy slapping, begging, slight choking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, princess), mentions of fire and other supernatural elements, anything else lmk! wc: 10.3k synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion after a month but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house and how they came to be. sunghoon | masterlist | heeseung a/n: hi! with this being the third instalment for this series, it's finally answering some questions while also posing some more! i truly enjoyed writing this chapter and i hope the little word plays and everything get your gears turning with theories! i enjoy hearing your theories so much like i can't even describe it <3 thank you so so so much for the love, i am forever grateful. likes, reblogs, feedback etc are all appreciated!

The doorbell chimes through the air, pulling your attention away from putting away the dishes in the kitchen, and a grin effortlessly spreads across your face. Mia's visit today after a month apart fills you with an immediate sense of joy. Though Jaeyun and Sunghoon are great company to keep, nothing quite compares to the presence of your best friend.

Her absence has been so obvious; her infectious energy seems to breathe life into everywhere she goes, which is a much-missed aura in this mansion; her presence has the power to dispel the shadows and chill that cling to the brick walls.

"Who could that be?" Sunghoon's voice interrupts your thoughts as he strolls around the kitchen island.

"It's Mia, remember? The friend I came here with. I told you she would be coming," you remind him gently, accepting the cup he just dried.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun both offer their assistance with the chores, but their motivations are drastically different. Jaeyun's assistance comes from a place of actually wanting to help and spend quality time with you, whereas Sunghoon is helping because the faster you finish, the sooner he can fuck you in whatever room you wind up in.

Despite your initial concerns, their dynamic surprises you as they seamlessly work in tandem. Rather than competing for your attention, they've embraced the idea of sharing you - an unexpected but pleasant development.

Jaeyun's bright smile at the island warms the room, his anticipation evident, "Will Mia be staying for the last month?" he inquires eagerly.

“Why? Is Y/N not enough?” Sunghoon jabs playfully, his eyebrow arching at his brother's question. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close so your back is pressed against his chest as he leans his head on your shoulder, "If you'd rather be with Mia, I’m more than happy to have my baby girl all to myself," he murmurs against your neck, planting a gentle kiss on the nape.

Your skin tingles with a mix of excitement and affection as Sunghoon leaves a faint mark, a delighted expression dancing across your face.

“No, no! I was just curious," Jaeyun protests with a pout, his posture relaxing into a slight slouch.  He’s so cute when Sunghoon teases him like that, you’re almost reluctant to stop it. 

But before you can say anything, Sunghoon gently turns you to face him, his expression softening as he meets your gaze, "Remember," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of seriousness, "you can’t tell Mia about us, yeah?”

Of course, you knew that telling her would be disastrous no matter the outcome. She would either think you were crazy and lost your mind, or she would tell the world. Your best friend was never the best at keeping secrets.

“I know, don’t worry,” you offer the simple words as reassurance to him, which paired with the sincerity in your eyes, he gladly accepts.

Leaning in, Sunghoon lands a soft kiss on your lips, his kind gesture relieving any remaining anxieties, "Good. Now, once she's finally fucking gone, come find me in my room," he says with a sly leer, his fingers slithering teasingly over your sides - a familiar trick he uses to make you weak. You should reprimand him for speaking so dismissively about your best friend's arrival, but he just has the power to make you forget.

Sunghoon's demeanour takes a brief shift as he addresses Jaeyun, a hint of authority creeping into his tone, "And you," he gestures towards Jaeyun behind you, his expression momentarily serious, "if you're staying here, you stay absolutely still, got it?"

"Okay, Dad, jeez," Jaeyun retorts, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance at the implication that he needs to be reminded.

You grasp Sunghoon's concern, especially given that you're currently aware of the doll's secret due to Jaeyun's loose lips. However, Sunghoon's tone feels unnecessarily harsh. Jaeyun holds a special place in your heart, and you find yourself fiercely protective of him. It irks you to see Sunghoon address him in such a condescending manner, as if he's incapable of handling himself.

Feeling defensive of Jaeyun, you push against Sunghoon's arm, shooting him a stern look, a firm reminder that he should catch his tongue because both of you know how it affects Jaeyun.

The bell rings again, drawing all three of your attention back to Mia's imminent arrival. Sunghoon excuses himself to his room, and Jaeyun settles comfortably into a chair, leaving you to answer the door with the unspoken reassurance that Mia won’t uncover their secret. But then again, what if you slip up?

It's a nagging worry in the back of your mind as you approach the door. Mia knows everything about you - every hook-up, every situationship, even mundane details like what you had for breakfast each morning. She's your confidante for everything, even the embarrassing stuff like bursting spots on your backside. With her, nothing is off-limits.

You remind yourself to keep your wits about you, to guard your words carefully in Mia's presence. The last thing you need is to accidentally let slip the truth about the dolls and your illicit affairs with them. 

You need to keep your wits about you.

As you swing open the door, greeted by the radiant presence of the angel you call your best friend, every worry and concern fades into the background. Her infectious smile and warm embrace envelop you, dispelling any lingering doubts or anxieties.

"Baby!" you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement as you wrap Mia in a tight embrace, swinging her from side to side. Though it's only been a month since you last saw her, it feels like an eternity.

Mia reciprocates your enthusiasm, squeezing you just as tightly, the warmth of her embrace filling you with a sense of homecoming. Both of you laugh and struggle to breathe amidst the suffocating love you shower upon each other, relishing in the joy of being reunited.

"God, I've missed you. It's so boring back in the city without you," Mia confesses, her words honest as she finally draws back to assess you. Suddenly, she pushes you to arm's length, her hands gripping your shoulders as she scrutinises you with a sceptical expression. With a flick of her finger, she motions for you to turn around, and you oblige, doing a quick twirl to indulge her curiosity.

You give her a quizzical look, tilting your head in silent inquiry as to what she's up to. "You're glowing, like literally, you look fucking amazing," she observes, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.

"Don't I always?" you jest in response.

"Obviously, but you've got that honeymoon glow," Mia insists, walking into the house but not before nudging you with her shoulder. "Is there a hot gardener here that I don't know about, hmm?"

Laughing, you shake your head, dismissing her playful insinuations. You make a conscious effort to maintain the facade, concealing your unconventional relationships with the dolls from Mia, despite her keen observations. 

They must be fucking you good for her to notice a change within a minute of seeing you. 

Mia follows you to the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the various porcelain dolls scattered throughout the hallway, just as she had when you both met Soonyeol for the first time. You sense her unease, evident in the hurried pace of her steps as she tries desperately to evade the watchful eyes of the dolls. 

What she finds unsettling, you've grown to find some comfort in. Each time you clean them, you develop a newfound admiration for their intricate beauty and craftsmanship. Sometimes, Sunghoon will even tell you stories about certain dolls and their origins, adding to the mystique surrounding them.

Entering the kitchen, you find Jaeyun still perched on his seat, his usual joyful smile replaced by a stoic expression as he takes on his doll persona. 

It’s weird to see him like this now, especially because you’ve seen him convey every emotion possible on that beautiful face of his; the solemn look he wears now just feels wrong.

"I brought non-alcoholic wine," Mia announces, reaching into her bag and producing two bottles of white wine. Since she’s driving, she’s bringing you along in her sobriety for the day. If it was easy to get an Uber in these parts, she certainly wouldn’t be settling for 0.05%.

You chuckle at the sight, "Seriously? Gary Barlow wine?" you tease, unable to resist poking fun at her choice.

Mia feigns offence, placing a hand dramatically over her heart, "I'll have you know this is my idea of a very nice day out," she retorts, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone as she quotes his TikTok video, struggling to suppress a giggle. "That, and it was £2 off with my clubcard."

You both burst into laughter, her tension from earlier dissipating as you share a lighthearted moment. Grabbing two large glasses, you place them on the table, inviting Mia to pour some for you both.

"How was the drive?" you inquire, taking a small sip of wine.

"It was fine, although longer than I remember," Mia replies with a huff, sinking into a seat opposite Jaeyun. You notice her discomfort as she eyes him, face contorting in a form of disgust, "How has it been here?" she asks, wishing to know how on earth you’re coping in a mansion with such watchful eyes.

"It's a big house, lots to clean. All in all, it's been good.” You sip your wine, struggling to maintain the facade of normalcy. 

The urge to confide in Mia, to unburden yourself of the secrets weighing heavily on your shoulders, is almost overwhelming. You want to tell her about the dolls, the ominous door that almost blinded you, and the sense of anxiety you feel sometimes when you roam the hallways. But you swallow the truth down, burying it beneath layers of false smiles and empty reassurances. It's a lonely feeling, knowing that you can't share your fears and anxieties with your closest friend. But for now, it's a burden you'll have to bear alone.

Mia accepts your answer with a sceptical expression, her eyes never wavering from Jaeyun's impassive face, "It's so fucking creepy," she murmurs into her glass, her discomfort evident in her tone, "Do you actually have to place them around the house? Can't you keep them locked up or something?"

You glance at Jaeyun, hoping for a flicker of reassurance in his eyes, but they remain devoid of emotion, sending a shiver down your spine. It's unsettling to see him so detached, his usual warmth replaced by an eerie emptiness.

Gathering your resolve, you pick up your glass and move to stand beside Jaeyun, offering him a supportive smile before responding to Mia. "It's part of the job, Mia. Soonyeol entrusted me with the responsibility of caring for them," you explain, your voice tinged with a mixture of obligation and fondness.

Mia scoffs at your explanation, "Girl, you're in a mansion on your own, just clean up on the last day. It's not like she would notice," she suggests, her nose upturned in disdain. You can tell that this whole situation is deeply unsettling for her, a puzzle she can't quite solve without knowing the full truth. She will never understand until she’s in your shoes.

"It's... nice, to look after them like this," you say wistfully, casting a fond glance down at Jaeyun as you speak.

Unable to resist the urge to offer him a comforting touch, you reach out to tuck a loose strand of Jaeyun's hair behind his ear, a small gesture of affection. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to nuzzle himself into your touch but Sunghoon’s words are still ringing in his mind.

Mia observes your interaction with a mixture of curiosity and concern, her eyes flitting between you and Jaeyun as if trying to decipher the unspoken language passing between you. You’ve only ever looked at one other man the way you look at him and it was your high school sweetheart.

The connection you share with Sunghoon and Jaeyun is utterly unlike anything you've ever known. They resonate with your soul in a way that defies rational explanation, leaving you convinced that they must be otherworldly beings. There has to be more to them than just kindred spirits trapped in the shell of these dolls; no mere human soul could evoke such a profound hold over you.

She scoffs and laughs in disbelief at your act of affection, “You’ve lost it, completely lost it. Being in this house alone has driven you to insanity,” she shakes her head, crossing her arms.

You retract your hand from Jaeyun and look at her in wonder, “What do you mean?”

It’s completely lost on you how this could look to her because for you this is normal. Soonyeol was strange in your eyes when you first arrived, Mia also accused the owner of being crazy, but now you understand Soonyeol and her attachment to her dolls.

Mia's incredulous gaze flickers between you and Jaeyun, her words dripping with disdain. "Look at you fixing that stupid doll's hair!" she exclaims, her voice laced with exasperation as if your actions are the epitome of absurdity, "You're going to turn into that creepy bitch who lives here."

Her words cut through the air like a knife, slicing through the fragile peace of the moment. You can’t feel it but you know Jaeyun would be tensing under her words if he had the ability to. Jaeyun doesn’t like it when people talk bad about his owner, especially since the reason Mia finds her so creepy is because of him and his brothers. 

He does understand to an extent that Soonyeol being so young and cooped up with four dolls in a mansion that can only rival the one in Saltburn might be seen as weird, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about it, considering the passing comment is from someone who knows nothing about her.

You place a calming hand on Jaeyun's shoulder, your protective instincts kicking into high gear. "Listen, if you're going to run your mouth, just fucking go," you retort harshly, your voice fueled by your need to shield Jaeyun from Mia's unnecessary commentary.

Mia's eyes widen in disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and frustration. "Y/N, listen to yourself," she chides, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment, “You've gone stark crazy... maybe you should come home-"

"No!" The word bursts from your lips in a panic, cutting off Mia's well-meaning suggestion before she can finish. The thought of leaving sends a wave of fear coursing through you.

Mia recoils at your outburst, taken aback by the intensity of your reaction. "Y/N, I don't think it's good for you here," she pleads, her tone softening as she reaches out to touch your arm.

But you pull away, shaking your head vehemently. "You literally said I was glowing all but 10 minutes ago," you snap back, narrowing your eyes at her, "Just fucking go."

There's a moment of tense silence as Mia processes your words, her expression shifting from concern to anger. She knows there's no reasoning with you when you're in this state, and she can sense the wall you've built around yourself.

"Fine. I'll see you when you screw your head back on," she spits out at you, her voice dripping with ire and disappointment. With one final, venomous glare at Jaeyun, she grabs her bag and storms out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the halls.

You're left standing there, the echoes of her departure ringing in your ears. Despite the sting of her words, you can't bring yourself to regret your decision to kick her out. At the end of the day, this is the dolls’ house and you wouldn’t like it if someone came into your flat and disrespected you or your belongings.

But you can’t help but process her words as you calm down. You know she is just looking out for you, showing her genuine concern because she knows what isolation can do to someone and their mental state, and maybe she is right. You are attached to the dolls way beyond your own comprehension and it’s taken you just now to truly realise it. 

You cussed out your best friend to protect the feelings of a doll. It's a sobering thought, one that fills you with a sense of unease and self-doubt. 

Maybe you should have gone with her, go back to your normal life, and forget about this place.

In the silence of the room, you turn to Jaeyun, and suddenly any wish to leave vanishes. Just like that. His face now upturned to look at you with sorrow. He looks so beautiful in this light that his being is almost angelic.

You cup his face with your hands, using your thumbs to stroke any semblance of comfort into him before speaking, "She doesn't mean it, Jaeyun," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the room, "She just doesn't understand."

Jaeyun nods slowly, knowing that you’re trying to appease his mind but what’s said has already bruised him. 

Kissing Jaeyun's nose, you offer him a tender smile before gently patting his cheeks. With a sigh, you reluctantly release your hold on him, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, "I'll go check on the others," you murmur softly,  "I'll be back in a bit."

_____

You shake off whatever you’re feeling and head through the mansion to help the other dolls. Admittedly, your task for moving them around has become much easier now that Jaeyun and Sunghoon move freely except for dinner time, which has freed up a good chunk of your time.

Each step you take echoes softly off the aged floorboards, their worn surfaces groaning beneath your weight. Sunlight filters sparingly through the windows, casting long shadows that dance across the dimly lit passages, adding to the eerie yet enchanting atmosphere of the mansion.

Sometimes you wonder about its history and its owner. How did a 20-something obtain such a grand house and why does she live alone? Of course, she has the boys but even then you can’t exactly take them on a night in the town. It’s so strange to see someone your age devoid of the usual life a young person would lead; no mobile, no wi-fi, not even a computer in sight. 

The more you stay here though, you understand her a little bit better. There’s a comfort in the way this mansion takes your superficial worries away, like how many likes you have on your Instagram post or how people perceive you in general. The eyes that follow you here can’t pass judgment on you, which at the beginning was terrifying but now brings you a strange sort of solace.

As you navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, you can't help but feel a sense of companionship with the dolls scattered throughout. With each step, you offer a soft greeting to your porcelain companions, their frozen expressions seeming to acknowledge your presence in return. If Mia stayed that day, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so threatened by them. 

"Hello there, lovely," you murmur as you pass a doll perched on a velvet chaise longue, her delicate features bathed in the subdued sunlight streaming through the window. You straighten her white-laced dress and smile politely.

Even though the porcelain girl remains silent, you know she’s thankful.

You asked Sunghoon if it was just the four of them who could talk, curious about the dolls that decorate the shelves of the house. He informed you that they aren't sentient beings but each one has a complex past and represents an identity in their own way. Ever since then, you’ve started to view them differently, a new appreciation for them blooming.

While you’re fixing a doll standing regally on the shelf by a towering grandfather clock, her elegant gown billowing around her like a ghostly mist, a faint melody drifts into your ears. It's a common occurrence, though typically happens in the dead of night. Sometimes, in the quiet hours, the strains of a piano tune or the gentle plucking of guitar strings would echo through the halls, adding to the mansion's eerie ambience. 

On your first few nights here, it made you quiver under your bed quilt but now you’ve come to find it a beautiful lullaby.

Following the source of the music, you're drawn to the open doors of the music room, their inviting stance beckoning you inside. Peering around the wall, you catch sight of one of the dolls seated with a guitar, fingers moving across the strings with practised ease.

His head hangs low, a curtain of dark brown hair obscuring half of his face, yet you recognize him instantly. It's Jongseong, his broad shoulders and golden complexion a telltale sign, along with his sharp jawline drawing attention to the almost heart-shaped mark on his neck. 

You can't help but admire the striking beauty that emanates from him, even in this quiet moment of solitude. Sunghoon and Jaeyun's stories about his kindness flood you and memories of his selfless gestures are etched vividly in your brain. 

You recall the time when Jongseong risked getting caught just to offer you a simple plaster for your pricked finger, his compassion shining through despite the potential consequences. And then there are the small, subtle acts of care that he continues to bestow upon you, like the glass of water that mysteriously appears by your bedside table each morning, a silent gesture of his thoughtfulness. 

Then there's the delicate daisy that sometimes rests on your pillow before you go to bed for the night, a token from the front garden that Jongseong must have plucked with care, knowing how much you adore its simple beauty. Every day you go outside and admire the flower as it basks in the summer sun, its life a brightness to contrast the otherwise dreary house.

Jaeyun and Sunghoon both deny any involvement in the sweet actions, leaving Jongseong as the only possible culprit.

“You can come in you know,” his voice suddenly speaks over the gently strum.

Your breath catches at the unexpected sound of his voice, and you freeze in place, startled by his acknowledgement of your presence. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if you imagined it, but the gentle strumming of the guitar persists, a soothing backdrop to his quiet words.

With cautious steps, you inch further into the room, the rhythmic thud of your heart echoing in your ears and adding percussion to his song. Jongseong's gaze remains fixed on the strings of the guitar, his hair casting shadows across his face that do little to mask his smirk.

Now how does he know that you know about him?

Jongseong suddenly screeches the guitar to a halt, his eyes lifting to meet yours with an air of knowingness, "You seem in shock for some reason," he observes, his voice soft yet perceptible in the stillness of the room. With careful precision, he returns the guitar to its glass cabinet.

Your heart skips a beat, torn between maintaining the facade of ignorance and embracing the truth about Jongseong's secret. As his gaze holds yours, uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving your voice hesitant and faltering. "I... I am?" you manage to utter, the words tinged with a hint of doubt.

Wow, so convincing, Y/N, you internally chastise yourself for the lacklustre response, feeling the weight of your indecision bearing down on you. But before you can gather your thoughts and make a quick save for your fumble.

"Jaeyun and Sunghoon are terrible liars," he remarks, his voice calm and composed. "And I saw you just there, comforting Jaeyun because of what your friend said."

His candid admission catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Just like Sunghoon, Jongseong quickly discerned the truth, his thoughts solidified by Mia's careless words and your instinctive need to shield Jaeyun.

Exhaling slowly, you release the tension that had knotted your muscles, allowing yourself to relax a fraction. "She really doesn’t mean it," you clarify to Jongseong, hoping to ease his mind as you had done with his brother.

"It’s okay, you look fucking crazy, to be fair, fussing over some dolls," he replies, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, much to your relief. Considering Jongseong’s caring nature, you wouldn’t want her words to bruise his kind spirit.

You bristle at his casual reference to them as 'dolls,' unable to bear the thought of diminishing their significance, "You aren’t just 'some dolls,' Jongseong," you protest, your voice laced with compassion.

Rising from his seat, Jongseong offers a faint smile as he approaches you with unthreatening steps. "We know that, but she doesn’t. Don’t be too hard on her," he reassures calmingly, his words like a balm to the part of your brain that had been feuding with Mia, now quieting and subsiding under his simple wisdom.

As his hand gently strokes your hair, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you, his touch soothing the lingering unease in your mind. His fingers then trace down to your chin, his touch tender, "You’re good with him, you know, with Jaeyun," he observes softly, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that draws you in.

"He brings out a protective side of me, I don’t really know why," you admit quietly, your eyes locked with Jongseong's as you speak. His half-smirk in response only deepens the adoration reflected in your widened pupils. He closes his eyes like he knows something you don't.

Jongseong playfully pinches your chin before withdrawing his hand,  "Yeah, Soonyeol has been the same ever since she got him," he remarks.

"Have you been here longer than him?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued as you gesture towards the kitchen where you left Jaeyun.

"I’ve been here for…a long time," Jongseong reveals, his voice tinged with a hint of reminiscence, "Heeseung for 8, Sunghoon for 4, and Jaeyun just over a year.."

The weight of his words swirls in your mind, each year marking a chapter in their shared history within the mansion's walls. You find yourself marvelling at the depth of their experiences, each doll carrying different memories and stories within their hollow frames. It now makes sense why Jaeyun knows so little.

That nugget of information must also mean that Jongseong knows everything there is to know about this place, about each of his brothers, if he has been here for so long. Maybe asking him will unlock the mysteries of this place.

"I'm not trying to pry," you begin tentatively, causing Jongseong to lift his brow in curiosity, "But how can you guys...how are you able to talk?" Your voice trails off slightly as you pose the question, a hint of apprehension colouring your words.

To your surprise, Jongseong chuckles softly and smiles wider in response, "Sunghoon mentioned you were snooping around when you arrived," he remarks, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he lets out a long breath, contemplating his next actions before continuing, "You won't give up until we tell you, will you?"

His words catch you off guard, a mixture of relief and curiosity flooding through you. Despite your initial hesitation, Jongseong's casual response reassures you, hopefully paving the way for an open and honest conversation that can curb your nosiness.

“Come on and I’ll show you.”

_____

With intertwined fingers, Jongseong leads you into the library, your mind buzzing with anticipation at the possibilities of what he could be showing you. You grip his hand tighter, excitement coursing through your veins as he pulls you towards the far end of the room.

But as you near that god-awful painting of the sheep, a sense of dread washes over you, sending a chill down your spine. Suddenly, you release Jongseong's hand, the realisation of what he's doing hitting you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, no, no, no," you protest vehemently, shaking your head in refusal, "I am NOT going near that room."

Your mind flashes back to the burning sensation in your eyes, the eerie red light searing into your retinas. Over the past few weeks, you've actively avoided that creepy room, refusing to even glance in its direction. Your curiosity may be insatiable, but you draw the line at risking letting out whatever is in there just in the name of discovering a secret.

Your irises mirror the turmoil within you, reflecting the fear and trepidation that grips your heart. You've made a vow to steer clear of that door and any other painting in this place, focusing your investigations on less ominous artefacts like locked cupboards and hidden pages within books.

Jongseong looks at you with concern, his brows furrowing in disbelief as he processes your words, “You know about this door?" he asks incredulously, wondering how on earth you ever managed to find it.

"Yes, and I am not going near it," you retort defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest like a stubborn child, "It almost blinded me!"

As you stand your ground, refusing to budge an inch, Jongseong's expression softens, his concern evident in the gentle gaze he fixes upon you, "I promise you, Sweetheart, there is nothing in there that can hurt you, not when I'm with you, okay?" he reassures, his hand finding yours once more as he brings it to his lips, kissing away the surge of fear that threatens to engulf you.

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, knowing that he will protect you from whatever dangers may lie beyond that wooden door.

With a hesitant nod, you allow Jongseong to lead you forward, you trust him but you’re still cautious enough to keep your wits about you, trailing two steps behind him.

Reaching the top of the wooden panel that frames the door, he takes the spare key and unlocks the door. It was really in front of you the entire time and you had no clue; you’re no Sherlock Holmes, that’s for sure.

You let out a breath and scrunch your face, being ready for anything as he swings the door open. Yet, you’re met with darkness - no red light, no flickering flames, nothing like what you saw through the keyhole.

But why does that scare you more?

Jongseong pulls you in, his grip on your hand loosening as he flicks on some lanterns. The room, once plunged with darkness now has a soft glow from the lanterns as they gradually illuminate the space, revealing its secrets in flickering shadows.

It's a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, with its black stone walls absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. The air feels heavy with the weight of something you can’t put your finger on, every corner whispering tales of those you’ll never understand or know.

In the centre of the room stands an altar, its surface weathered with age and a stone bowl resting atop it like an ancient relic. Symbols etched into the stone tell stories that you can’t translate, the old language lost on you.

As you take in the sight before you, a shiver runs down your spine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity coursing through your veins. Where did the red light come from if everything in here looks like it belongs in the Addams Family house?

"What is all this?" you ask, your curiosity overcoming any sense of apprehension as you creep closer to the altar. It's reminiscent of ones you've seen in movies depicting satanic rituals, yet even with its eerie aura, you can't resist the urge to touch it, your fingers tracing the lines of its rim.

"The office," Jongseong replies casually, as if this were a mundane space for everyday tasks like taxes and emails. He flicks on the last lantern and shuts the door firmly, ensuring privacy and avoiding suspicion from any passersby.

As you stand mesmerised by the ceremonial bowl, Jongseong notices your admiration and smiles, "This is the ceremonial bowl," he begins to explain, his body now behind yours, his presence both comforting and electrifying as he presses slightly against you. His fingers intertwine with yours, guiding your touch along the edge of the bowl, "This is how we were summoned"

"Summoned?" you echo, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn to face Jongseong, your eyes wide with disbelief and intrigue.

“Oh, Sweetheart, to bring a doll to life, you need to give it an entity.”

“An entity as in…”

“Any form of life; angel, demon, human, that sort of thing. Someone calls and we answer”

The revelation sends a chill down your spine, the idea of imbuing a doll with the essence of a supernatural being is both fascinating and terrifying.

As you process this new information, you can't help but wonder about the origins of the dolls in this mansion, and the entities that dwell within them. They all possess such different charms and energies that you can only imagine each of them comes from different channels of spirits.

“So what are you then?” you ask Jongseong, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of trepidation.

“I’ll leave you to guess that one,” he replies cryptically, pressing himself up against you until your back meets the edge of the altar. The cool stone digs into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But you aren’t scared of me, are you, Sweetheart?" he continues, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. You shake your head, unable to deny the truth, "Then that will give you some clue," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air between you like a tantalizing riddle waiting to be solved.

You stand locked in this intimate embrace, his presence gentle despite the surroundings. 

“What about your bodies?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you even though you're not entirely sure what you're asking. Obviously, they didn’t come from the pits of hell or wherever they're from, but you're curious about how Soonyeol managed to choose four dolls, each so perfectly suited to their personalities.

Jongseong tilts his head slightly, considering your question before responding, "Our bodies are vessels," he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, “We were crafted by the hands of Soonyeol, infused with the ashes of her loved ones.”

Jongseong's response sends shivers down your arms and legs, his words so compelling that they leave you speechless for a minute, "Infused with the ashes of her loved ones?" you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your head whirling, your throat dry as you attempt to swallow your nerves.

But before you can fully process what he said, Jongseong breaks out laughing, the sound reverberating off the walls of the poorly lighted room, "She just ordered them online," he says between laughter, his tone lighthearted. "That part isn't as evil unless you count the CO2 emissions from the planes."

Relief floods through you as you realise he’s just joking. You can't help but join in his laughter, the tension melting away as you shake your head in disbelief.

"Oh, you had me going there for a moment," you admit with a chuckle, feeling foolish for having been momentarily taken in by his playful deception.

Jongseong grins mischievously, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "I can give you the link to the site if you want? I know how much fun you’ve been having with the younger ones," he remarks, his laughter fading into a sly grin.

Your cheeks burn crimson at Jongseong's implication, and you shy away slightly, feeling a familiar wave of embarrassment wash over you. It's the same feeling you experienced when Sunghoon called you out for your rendezvous with Jaeyun, a reminder of the unconventional nature of your relationships with the dolls.

You can't shake the nagging feeling that at the end of the day, you're still fucking dolls, no matter how much Sunghoon and Jaeyun reassure you to embrace it. To be fair, the embarrassment hasn’t stopped you yet.

Seeing your flushed face even in the dim light, Jongseong's expression softens with understanding. He cradles your cheeks in his palms, his touch gentle as he strokes your flushed skin, "I'm not judging you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice tender. "I'm just feeling a little left out." He says playfully, making it hard to tell if he is serious or not.

But still his words catch you off guard and you meet his stare with a mixture of surprise and confusion. At that moment, you realise that Jongseong embodies the best of both worlds - the kindness and empathy of Jaeyun, coupled with the confidence and assurance of Sunghoon, coupled with his charm. It's a combination that draws you to him even more, creating a sense of longing.

Throwing caution to the wind, you act on impulse, letting go of any lingering doubts or hesitations. With a surge of boldness, you lean up and press your lips against Jongseong's, catching him off guard with the suddenness of your actions.

His eyes widen in shock at your sudden boldness, but they quickly darken with unmistakable hunger as he responds eagerly to your advance, smothering your mouth with his.

The kiss is electric, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you both, leaving you breathless and craving more. His lips are soft yet demanding against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he pulls you closer, his touch somehow searing hot through your skin.

Jongseong groans as he dances his tongue with yours, the artificial buds on his muscle soaking in your taste. You suck on his tongue softly, eliciting a low snarl from him, his hand coming up to grip your hair roughly, while yours slide up his t-shirt, feeling the bumps of his toned tummy.

Drawing back from his lips, you see his entity burning with desire, his grip on you tightening, “Have you ever been fucked on an altar?” he asks, a smirk obvious on his face even in the dull lighting.

“No,” you breathe out, your chest heaving from the kiss.

“I’ll change that for you…if you’re a good girl,” he teases, the hand wrapped in the strands of your hair pushing your head down until you’re slowly following his guidance, sinking to your knees. From this angle, he looks like a god, a being worth worshipping as his aura glows white.

You know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give it to him without question.

He undoes his belt with one hand, whipping it off hastily and placing it on the altar. You start to undo his trousers but as you move to assist him, your actions are abruptly halted by a sharp tug on your hair, forcing you back with a gasp.

Tears threaten to well in your eyes as the roots of your hair protest the forceful grip, but Jongseong's touch softens as quickly as it had hurt you, his hand now tenderly soothing the discomfort he caused.

"I need you to be good for me. It’s important to be good," he asserts, his voice commanding yet soft, "Only act when I say so, understood? I don't want to have to punish you, Princess. You don’t want that either, do you?"

His choice of words and gentle warning only add to the dampness in your pants, the material fully sticking to your wet cunt. You swallow hard as every word, every touch from Jongseong ignites your sense of being.

Both his hands are now on your cheeks, trapping you to look at him, “Words, Princess, use them,” he orders.

Shaking your head, you wonder if you want to obey him and avoid punishment as part of you wonders how far he could go with it.

Jongseong’s a gentle soul with kindness pouring out of him, you question whether it’s a facade to hide something more demanding underneath. Either way, you trust him, so even if you wanted to get a little bratty, you know he would cause you no real harm.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, licking your lips as you anticipate his cock laying firm on your tongue. 

“Sweetheart, I’ll let you off this once, yeah? Just make sure you listen from now on,” Jongseong offers you a smile, patting your cheeks lightly before continuing, “If you ever want to stop, or I go too far, you tell me immediately. No amount of my pleasure is worth your discomfort.”

Smiling, you nod and quickly remember his instructions, “I will, Jongseong.”

Jongseong's gaze relaxes further with an accepting nod, and his touch is delicate against your skin, "Good girl," he says, his words a quiet affirmation of your submission.

He gives you the go-ahead to continue undoing his trousers which you eagerly do, your fingers quick to release the silver button and pull down his zip, leaving his trousers pooled at his ankles. You can see his member in the protruding silhouette of his boxers. Out of all the dolls, you’ve been most impressed by Jongseong, his cock is everything a person could dream of; girthy, long, like something off of Love Honey in the best seller’s section. 

You discard his boxers next, leaving his member to spring into action. He is so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, admiring every part of the craftsmanship that went into making such a wonder. Raising your hand, you go to wrap your hand around him gently but you pause, realising you probably need to be told that you can indulge yourself.

Jongseong notices your hesitation and lets out a chuckle, his smile morphing into a knowing smirk as you meet his gaze with eager anticipation, "You're free to go, Princess" he announces, much to your delight, and you need no further encouragement.

Grabbing the base of his shaft you pump him a few times, the soft feeling of his skin welcomed along your fingertips. You open your mouth, staring at him as you lick the tip of his shaft a few times, each time pulsing in your hand. The mechanics of these cocks is a wonder, how realistic they all are.

He gathers your hair in his hands, brushing the wispy strands from your face adoringly, careful not to be too rough with you just yet. You look beautiful to him right now, your tongue swirling around his head, the saliva trail you’re leaving behind every time you remove your plump lips to gather your breath. Soonyeol is beautiful, but you’re like his dream come true. There’s a pang of guilt as he thinks about it but when you start sucking his cock lightly, every thought goes out the window.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pump his cock and use your tongue to massage his bell in your warm mouth, the sensation of his cold cock in contrast to your warmth adds a new layer to your pleasure, already excited to feel him deep in your heat. 

His size makes it difficult to fully take him in, so you use a combination of hand and mouth technique. You see the small subtleties in Jongseong's expression - the wrinkle of his brow, the tightening hold of his fist that inadvertently tugs at your hair again - and realise he doesn't mind how you are approaching it, he maybe even loves it.

It gives you a flutter in your tummy as you see his jaw slacking and his hips subconsciously twitching with pleasure. You’re an overachiever, have been your whole life, and while this is doing him wonders right now, you know you can do better.

Popping off his cock, you tap him on your outstretched tongue, grinning widely when his eyes meet yours. With his attention on you, you force him back in your throat, gagging slightly but relishing in the burn, your hands gripping his muscular thighs.

He hisses as with each bob, he hits your throat, “Fuck,” he grits out, pushing slightly to test the boundaries, and when you gag loudly, saliva dripping down your chin with a spurt, he instantly retreats, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he soothes, his hand lifting your chin.

But you liked it, weirdly, the feeling of choking on his cock stirred something inside you, and your thighs become sticky with your arousal that is dripping down - and Jongseong noticed.

“Wait did you like it?” he asks, tightening his hold on your jaw, “You want me to fuck that beautiful throat of yours wide open?” 

God, yes.

With a nod and eyes full of want, you silently express your desire for him to completely ruin you. However, as you resume, a swift smack to your cheek jolts you, rendering a grimace as you look up at him, perplexed.

"Words, Sweetheart, be a good girl," Jongseong prompts, his voice carrying both authority and care. A flicker of understanding crosses his expression as he reaches out to stroke your cheek where his hand had landed moments before. "I'm here to give you what you need," he reassures, his touch tender against your skin, "But you have to tell me."

With a deep breath, you muster the courage to voice your desire, "I want you to fuck my throat," you whisper.

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" he murmurs, his tone gentle as he encourages your honesty. ain some ways, submitting to a man like this is embarrassing, yet you can’t help but feel completely in control at the same time. He’s giving you the option to have whatever you want, something the other two don’t let you do. Jaeyun lets you take control but it’s all for his pleasure, not for your own, and Sunghoon doesn’t let you do anything on your own at all.

As Jongseong begins to push into your mouth, an upsurge of sensations overwhelms you: the hardness of him filling your mouth, the taste of him combining with your saliva, and the sting of tears welling up in your eyes. Despite this, a pleasure runs through your veins, sparking a burning yearning within you, you want more of him, desperately.

Jongseong's voice cut through the veil of your shared satisfaction, "You're doing so well, Sweetheart," he says, his words a calming symphony contrasting to the burning in your throat.

You respond with a muffled moan, your mouth full as you eagerly take him in, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. 

"I love how you take me," Jongseong whispers, his voice laced with reverence and desire, "You're so good for me. You were born to suck on my cock.”

His words alone are making your clit throb and you can’t take the emptiness, so, you reach down and dip your hand into your panties, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. He continues chanting your praises, so lost in the feeling of your mouth that he hasn’t noticed you seek your own pleasure.

As Jongseong continues to revel in the pleasure of your mouth, a sudden interruption jolts him from his trance-like state. Feeling the subtle shift in your movements, he realises what you’re up to.

With a swift motion, he withdraws from your mouth, his grip firm on your head as he pulls you up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, a mix of desire and admonition as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and needy, beneath him.

"Sweetheart, what do you think you're doing?" he chides, his voice low but commanding, “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, did it?"

“N-no…I just need you so bad, Jongseong.”

Your quivering voice of desperation makes Jongseong’s knees weak, that playful yet needy glint in your eye begging him to take you on the altar. He knows he has to punish you but you look so fucking sweet with your lips plump and drool on either side of your mouth that he’s almost forgiving you. You speak about the power the dolls have, but you have no idea the power you hold over them.  

But he knows he can't let your transgression go unpunished. With a sigh, he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm. "I understand, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tinged with feigned regret, "But rules are rules, and I can't make exceptions."

You accidentally let out a groan of frustration, rubbing your thighs together, hoping the friction can tide you over until he touches you.

sighing, Jongseong reaches out to caress your trembling thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive, "I know you're desperate," he murmurs into your neck, teasingly hovering over your nape with his lips, “So get on the fucking altar.”

With a whimper of surrender, you comply without hesitation, the anticipation of what's to come heightening your senses as you hoist up on the alter, positioning yourself on the edge. Every nerve in your body hums with anticipation, the need for his touch driving you to the brink of madness.

You’re glad that you wore a sundress today, planning to have a fun girls' day with Mia had its benefits even if it went horribly wrong.

In an instant, he rips off your panties, tossing them in the alter bowl haphazardly and hikes the skirt of your dress to your waist. Your pussy looks so delectable that he thinks prolonging stuffing you with his cock might be a punishment to himself rather than you.

But Jongseong is a man of his word, and if he doesn’t let Soonyeol away with anything, he certainly can’t let you. 

He slaps your thigh sharply, a red mark appearing instantly against your skin, “Move back,” he demands, slapping your thigh once again. His tone is authoritive so you do as you’re told, not wanting to disappoint him anymore.

You spread your legs without direction, hoping your compliance will warrant an early yield in your punishment, whatever it may be. Jongseong licks his lips and smiles triumphantly, falling into your trap.

Yet, just as you begin to feel a glimmer of relief, Jongseong's hand comes down with brutal force, striking your pussy with a harsh slap that echoes through the room. The pain is searing, making you cry out in shock and agony, the sound reverberating off the walls as your body recoils from the impact. Each consecutive smack creates a new wave of pain, coupled with a surge of stimulation that makes you dizzy with sensations.

With each hit, Jongseong's expression regret, yet his actions are a contradiction of brutality, "I'm sorry, Princess," he says between strikes, his voice heavy with sorrow, even as his hand strikes you again, "I know it hurts but every act of defiance deserves punishment," Jongseong whispers, his voice an odd soothing balm, "We’re almost done, just two more, you can handle that right?”

His question, paired with the gentle caress of his fingers against your throbbing pussy, relaxes you, knowing that he meant it when he said he would stop if you wanted him to. Even now, as he looks at you, he's silently permitting you to end this.

But you don't want to. Not yet. The ache between your legs, the desperate need for him, drives you to endure just a little longer, "I can take it, Jongseong," you utter, your voice steady despite the trembling of your body. With a slow exhale, you brace yourself for the final two strikes, determined to prove your endurance and earn the reward awaiting you.

Jongseong's gaze softens with admiration, his hand hovering momentarily before delivering the next blow, "You're so strong, Princess," he murmurs, his voice laced with genuine admiration, "I'm proud of you."

The words, spoken amid your ordeal, fill you with a sense of validation, a reassurance that despite the pain, you're still cherished and valued in his eyes. Even though he warned you this would happen and you disobeyed him, he still gives you praise.

He delivers the last smack with force, putting punctuation on the end of your punishment, hoping that you’ve learned your lesson. And by fuck you have.

Bringing you forward, he sits you up straight, "You've done so well," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead, "Now, let me take care of you."

Without hesitation, he takes his cock and slides himself inside your throbbing pussy, the sensation being both a culmination of need and a reminder of the pain you've endured. 

But as he begins to move within you, the rhythm of his thrusts slow and deliberate, you find yourself surrendering to the pleasure that washes over you. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming as you finally get what you've been craving for.

You moan softly, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

But just as you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy, Jongseong pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for more. "Please," you whimper, your voice thick with need.

Jongseong's fingers find their way to your throbbing clit, flicking it with expert precision, "Not yet, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, "I want to make this last."

The sensation is electrifying, sending you reeling with desire as Jongseong teases you mercilessly. "Jongseong," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for more but he only chuckles, his touch driving you to the edge of sanity as he pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

And then, just when you think you can't take it any longer, he plunges back inside you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the edge of oblivion once more, "Yes!" you cry out, your body arching against his as pleasure consumes you.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge, Jongseong grips your throat gently, his touch both commanding and reassuring, posing no real threat, "You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he grabs your attention, "Yet, you've been so bad. Snooping around, looking at things you shouldn't, fucking things that aren't yours." There’s a sly grin on his face as he pulls out again, leaving your hole clenching around nothing, tears threatening to fall as your impending orgasm is ripped away from you again.

Jongseong continues to torment you, his words cutting through the haze of desire, you can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, "Was the last punishment enough for everything you've been up to?" he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of warning.

Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his stare, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. You know that you've pushed the boundaries, looking around the mansion even when you promised Sunghoon you wouldn’t, and indulged in pleasures that were not yours to claim.

With a shaky breath, you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, Jongseong," you murmur, your heart pounding in your chest, "I've learned my lesson."

“Oh, yeah?” he smirks, looking at the ceremonial bowl prettily decorated with your frilly underwear, “You sure?”

Your desperation mounts as you chant a series of "Yes's," your pleas echoing in the cold air of the room. Every fibre of your being screams for him, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.

And just when you think you can't bear the anticipation any longer, Jongseong plunges back into you, his gaze still fixated on your underwear. The intensity of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure running through your hot veins, yet beneath it all, a nagging curiosity tugs at the edges of your consciousness.

If you were in your right mind, you would question his fascination with the garments adorning the ceremonial bowl. As he picks up the frilly underwear with his middle finger, a spike of anticipation plagues you, mingling with the pulsating waves of pleasure emanating from his touch. And then, his voice cuts through the air, commanding and authoritative.

"Spit on them, Sweetheart," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, you comply, summoning every ounce of saliva you can muster before releasing it onto the delicate fabric. The sight of your saliva coating the underwear sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of arousal and confusion swirling within you.

But before you can question his motives, Jongseong's touch intensifies, driving you to the brink of ecstasy once more and rips it away as he tosses the underwear into the bowl once more. 

“No! Please, please, don’t stop fucking me, Jongseong. I promise I won’t snoop around or do anything without you telling me to.”

Your voice is desperate but you don’t care, if he denies you of your orgasm even just once more, you might die on this altar you’re perched on.

Jongseong's eyes light up with expectation, his hand tightening around your throat in a possessive hold while his other lingers over the ceremonial bowl, his muttering casting a dark spell in a foreign language.

Then suddenly, the crimson light floods the room, the same flash of red that almost blinded you. Terror holds you like a vice, pulling at your senses while flames lick hungrily in the air. Instinct urges you to go, to escape the flame that threatens to engulf you, but Jongseong's grip holds you tied to the altar.

There is no escape.

"Shhh, Princess it's okay, it won't hut you. I just need you to beg me," he says, his stare penetrating through the chaos with uncompromising focus, his left hand now sliding to tap on your clit with planned precision, sending waves of thrill surging through your body as he continues, lips hovering yours in a whisper, “Let Hell hear how much you need my cock.”

Hell.

The fire that is burning your skin beside you, that’s what you saw that day through the keyhole, you came face to face with the underworld. And now Jongseong’s opened it up beside you.

Summoning every ounce of courage you possess, you meet his gaze, your voice a trembling whisper as you utter the words he demands. "Please, Jongseong," you beg, the desperation in your tone echoing through the dimly lit chamber, "Fuck me, I need your cock so fucking bad."

His grasp on your throat tightens somewhat, a subtle acceptance of your surrender. With a hungry grin, he moves in closer, his breath hot on your ear, whispering pretty promises, and as his hand continues to work its magic on your clit,  you totally yield to him despite the fear rising inside you.

Kissing you, he fucks back into you, letting go of your throat and focusing all his attention on making you feel good, his hands finding home on your hips. 

The more you moan, the more intense the fire becomes, some of the flicker burning your arm. Jongseong notices your unease and focuses your eyes to look only at him, “It can’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them,” he whispers, his words causing more confusion but you’re already so far gone, lost in the feeling of his cock punching into your cervix that you can’t question him.

"You're doing fucking amazing, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "I want you to scream my name, let all those fucks know what a good girl you are, that you’ll never be like them.” His jab at those below you in the underworld makes your skin tingle.

With each thrust, pleasure courses through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending and leaving you breathless with ecstasy. And as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, you heed Jongseong's command, your screams echoing through the chamber as you give yourself over to him.

The flames in the bowl seem to dance to the rhythm of you and Jongseong’s passionate encounter, with each blow of his cock piercing your open, the more you cry out, and that excited the crimson glow.

As the intensity of your pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, every fibre of your being yearning for release. And with one final, desperate cry, you let go, surrendering yourself completely to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that wash over you.

Jongseong feels you coming undone and follows suit, his cock twitching inside you and hips pushing him as far as he can reach inside you. 

Once the fires begin to fade, leaving just embers blazing gently in the darkness, you feel yourself returning to reality, your senses gradually returning to you. You notice the air is thick with the odour of burnt cloth and the remains of the fire that previously raged around you.

With a shock, you look down and notice the charred remains of your underwear smouldering in the ceremonial bowl, the flames having eaten them in their fervour. Panic grabs you for a minute, but suddenly Jongseong's voice breaks through the quiet, his words a calming salve.

"I get why the others are obsessed with you, Y/N," he says, his tone filled with admiration and longing, "You belong here, I know you do."

Despite his assuring words and gentle touch as he slips out of you, his hands soothing where he has left marks, lingering questions gnaw at the edges of your mind. "Jongseong," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "what was that fire? And what did you mean by 'those fucks' down there? Was it hell?"

Jongseong’s expression softens, his fingers gently caressing your thighs, his actions were stupid and selfish in the name of his brothers and Soonyeol. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but he just had to show you off, let everyone know that you were his at least once, “Y/N," he says softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and concern, "there are some things you're better off not knowing. Trust me."

His words give you pause but you’re sick of the secrecy now, “Tell me, Jongseong. I will find out one way or another,” you press him, hoping your tone is half as commanding as he was, “Just tell me, what the fuck was that?”

“Go to Heeseung. He can explain it far better than I can and to be honest, I don’t want to see your face when you find out,” he says suddenly, his tone firm but gentle. Confusion flickers in your eyes, but before you can question him further, Jongseong presses a tender kiss to your forehead, “I will warn you though, Sweetheart, he won’t take kindly to being last.”

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #jay smut #jongseong smut #jay x reader #aj writes #park jongseong smut #the doll house #enhypen fic

[not-neverland06]

How About A Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: I’ve received more love and interaction with this series than I have with any of my other works, so thank you all so much for that ♥️ That being said, I’ve also had a lot of comments talking about how excited readers are for Cooper eventually finding his humanity. This is not going to be that chapter, so strap in and good luck. I’m anticipating there to be about two chapter of this story (most likely.) Summary: The surface sucks. There’s nothing else to it, you’re affronted by violence and brutality every minute you’re up here. The one thing that’s kept you going has been Cooper slowly easing up, you should have known better. Warnings: Themes of SA but none is actually committed.

“Up,” you jumped, jolted harshly out of your restless sleep. You weren’t sure when you’d passed out last night but it was a long while after you’d struck your deal with Cooper. A glance through one of the holes in the wall told you it was still slightly dark outside. 

He strode to the door, throwing it open and not bothering to see if you were following. You scrambled up to your feet, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes while you hurried to catch up with him. You trailed slightly behind him for a while, not willing to risk pissing him off by getting too close. 

He’d always been an even tempered man, at least when you’d known him, this brutality was something completely foreign to you. Left you feeling like you were walking on glass every time you even looked at him. 

After about an hour and a half of walking without speaking, you felt yourself starting to go a little crazy. You rushed up to his side, glaring under the harsh beams of sunlight. “Where are we headed?” He didn’t bother looking at you or even acknowledging that you spoke. 

He simply kept his eyes ahead and kept going. You huffed and let yourself fall back again. He clearly wasn’t in the mood for conversation today. Another hour and you felt yourself starting to slow down. You didn’t have a handy little canteen like Cooper did, you certainly didn’t have any fucking sunscreen. You could already feel yourself starting to pour sweat and your lips were peeling again. 

Any rest you’d gotten from last night was zapped out of you. You’d barely started the day’s journey and already you felt like you were going to keel over. You stopped for a moment, not thinking he’d pay attention, and leaned over to try and catch your breath. 

“Come on!” You glanced up. He’d stopped a few yards up ahead, he was glaring at you, impatiently waiting for you to get a move on. You groaned, taking in a deep breath and forcing your feet to move again. 

“Please, can I just have a sip of water?”

He grinned and pulled out the canteen. You felt the briefest amount of energy shooting back through you at the prospect of water. Your hands reached for it but he snatched it away and took a deep gulp. You licked your lips, mouth feeling even dryer while you watched him guzzle the last of his water down. 

You felt yourself deflate again, too tired to even get properly mad at him. He was just being a dick now. “Fuck you,” you muttered, brushing past him and continuing ahead. 

“Come on, darlin’,” he caught up with you. Not like it was hard, you were going the pace of a turtle right now. 

You felt like a panting dog under the summer sun, practically drooling in an attempt to keep your throat moistened. You pulled the zipper of the vault suit down and tied the sleeves around your waist. 

“I’d keep that zipped if I were you.” You knew he was talking about, the black slip you had on underneath the suit. Probably not smart to go advertising your assets like this, you had no idea had bad the people out here were. But so far you hadn’t seen anyone for miles and you needed a few minutes to try and dry the sweat on your back. 

You didn’t bother responding to him, it was a waste of breath at this point. “You ignoring me now?” You grunted, reaching up to wipe off your forehead and slick the hairs off your skin. “You wouldn’t want the water anyway, unless you got a purifier everything you’ll find out here is radiated to all hell.”

“You were still an asshole,” you muttered. 

He scoffed, glancing over at you before looking back out at the horizon. “We’ll be coming up on an old town, see if you can find yourself some supplies while we’re passing through.” You glanced over at him but he was walking ahead of you again. 

You wondered if this was his attempt at an apology or if he was just heading there because he needed something. Either way, it would provide you a break at least. 

“This is pathetic.”

You glared up at Cooper from where you sit curled up on the floor of an old house. “I’ll remind you that as of yesterday, to me, the most physical labor I had to do was switch out with a stunt double.”

He scoffed and shook his head, not bothering to respond. He walked past you and started rummaging around in drawers. From the abandoned bed rolls on the ground it was clear that somebody used to use this place as their base. You just wondered what sent them running. 

“Hey,” he barked, “we’re not staying here forever. Get a fucking move on.”

You groaned and slowly got to your feet, you stumbled to the other side of the house, rummaging around for anything you could change into or something to eat. You could hear Cooper moving around in the back of the house. He kept slamming drawers and cussing up a storm. 

You’re not sure what crawled up his ass and died but you figure it’s smart to just stay out of the way while he’s like this. 

She made his skin crawl. Being around her was just a constant reminder of what he’d had, who he’d been, and what he was now. Everytime she looked at him with those hurt eyes of hers he just wanted to shoot something. 

He hated feeling like this, almost like he was out of control. He knew what he was, he knew what he had to do to survive in a world like this. But she didn’t. She was naive to the way the Wastelands worked and innocent to the brutality she’d soon find herself in the middle of. 

He should have left her dying in the sand. He should have left her to choke to death in her pod. He was itching to get to Filly, the longer he stayed around her the more on edge he felt. He didn’t need someone slowing him down, she was a weakness and the Ghoul didn’t do weaknesses. 

His hands twitched towards the holster at his side and for a moment he really thought about it. Just sneaking up behind her and burying a bullet in her skull. He’d be getting rid of his problem and saving her from a lot of trouble in the future. She’d never do well in this new world, she was still someone from the old world. 

It would be a mercy to just put her out of her misery now. 

The button of the holster clicked as he popped it open. Slowly, he made his way towards the room she was in, the leather of his gloves creaking as he wrapped his hand around the handle of his gun. Quick, in and out. She wouldn’t even know what was happening before it was too late and the light in her eyes was out. 

Her back was to him, rummaging around in the wreckage of the room. She was completely vulnerable and exposed. Like she didn’t understand how easy it would be for someone to sneak up on her or she stupidly expected him to defend her. 

“Hey! I think I found something!”

His hand jolted away from his gun and he shook his head. What the fuck was he thinking? He still technically needed her for his business in Filly. “What?” He snapped. 

She let out a yelp and jumped. She whirled around on him, hand clutching her chest and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. It really would be easy to just take her out now. 

“Jesus,” he could tell when she was about to say his name. She’d bite her lip real hard and frown, she was doing it now. For a moment he was thinking about how they used to scare each other. They would make a stupid game of it and she would always hit him and yell, Jesus, Coop! 

He used to think it was hilarious. Now he was just resisting the urge to draw his gun on her. 

“What,” he enunciated each word, speaking to her like she was a child, “did you find?”

She glared at him and moved aside, showing him the stash of shit she’d uncovered. There were a lot of good supplies here, nothing he could use, but enough to stick in a pack for her. Only problem was nobody would leave all this here. Either they were coming back for it or whatever had killed them off was coming for it. 

“Hurry and pack this shit up, we need to get out of here.” When she didn’t move fast enough he snapped, “Now!” She knelt down, hurriedly scooping all the supplies into the ratty old bag on the ground next to them. 

He walked back towards the front of the house, pulling his gun out and surveying the destroyed houses. He didn’t see anybody but that didn’t mean shit anymore. Ever since Muldaver started bringing people into her cult the raiders seemed to have been getting smarter. They needed to get the fuck out and quick. 

“Alright, let's go!” He leaned back in the doorway, peering back into the house and waiting for her to pop out. There was a moment of silence and he frowned, slowly heading back into the house. 

A scream ripped out of the room, echoing into the empty streets of the neighborhood. He rushed back into the house and slowed down once he reached the hall. He could hear her talking to someone, yelling at them more like. He only heard two other voices, wouldn’t be too bad if he didn’t hear more approaching the front of the house. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. He flipped open the chamber of his gun, counting his bullets and trying to decide whether or not she was actually worth helping. 

“Well, ain’t you pretty?”

“Back the fuck off,” you clutched the backpack to your chest, gaze darting between the two men before you. Men was being generous, you’re sure they’d been men once but now they were just twisted freaks capable of nothing but violence. 

The one on the left smiled, blackened teeth making an appearance and the boils around his mouth shifting. You stumbled further back, nearly tripping over a toppled over couch. You only had so much room to move, you were gonna be backed into a corner soon and you didn’t want to think about what they would do to you then. 

The scalpel in your pocket could slit one of their throats but the other one would be on you before you could blink. Still, you kept your hand firmly wrapped around it while you glared at them. 

“You know,” the one on the right started. You could practically smell him from here, his hair so greasy it looked soaking wet. “You’re being awfully rude for someone who just helped herself to our supplies.”

“Pay the price pretty lady and we’ll let you go,” he leered and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what the “price” was. You’d sooner slit your own throat then spread your legs for them. But you also weren’t about to give up the supplies in the bag you were holding. You may be new to this whole Wastelands thing, but you figured Cooper wasn’t going to share. If you didn’t get this bag out of here, you weren’t going to make it another day. 

“You got a working right hand, go fuck yourself.”

They laughed and moved in closer. “We got a fighter, Bart!”

“Sure do, Jed.”

You yelped, tripping over a loose plank of wood and falling on your ass, the scalpel flew out of your hand and skittered across the floor. You barely even breathed before they were pouncing on you. Rough hands gripped your ankles and dragged you across the splintered floor. They were more wild animals than men. 

You tried to kick out, screaming for help and flailing your fists wildly. You felt your hand connect with something hard and then there was a low groan of pain before your arms were being pinned. “No! Let me go!”

They started laughing, one of them tugging the sleeves of your suit off your waist and whistling at the slip underneath. You brought your knee up into his gut but it barely phased him. He just swatted your leg to the side like you were nothing to him. 

You could feel a visceral type of panic brewing in you. There were a lot of things worse than death. The prospect of these men actually getting their hands on you had you kicking out again. You tugged on your arms until you were sure you were doing more damage to yourself than to them. But you didn’t care, you couldn’t think, you were working on the base instinct to protect yourself. 

The sound of spurs echoed down the hallway before Cooper was turning the corner. He had his gun raised and was pointing it right at them. “I do believe the lady said no.”

“We found her first,” one of them let go of your suit to crouch in front of you. He looked like an animal guarding his territory. The other chuckled, barely sparing Cooper a glance. 

“Actually,” he cocked the hammer of his gun back, “you didn’t.”

You processed your ears ringing before you got to the gunshot. You couldn’t hear anything, a high pitched whining making your jaw clench in pain. Your arms went slack and you quickly pulled your pants back up, zipping the suit all the way to your throat. You rolled onto your hands and knees, barely cognizant of the puddle of blood you were dragging yourself through. 

Two arms wrapped around your waist and you acted without thought. You swung out blindly, yelling and clawing like a wild cat. “-nough! That’s enough, come on!” Cooper’s voice broke through the haze and you went limp with relief. 

He tightened his arms around you and dragged you to your feet. You glanced down at yourself, finally feeling the warmth seeping through your clothes. You were doused head-to-toe in those men’s blood. Your face was completely covered. 

You glanced to the right and had to suppress a gag. Brains and skull were mashed together in a disgusting puddle of gore, nothing left of the men who’d grabbed you. “Hey,” Cooper shook you slightly and your eyes shot back to his. “We need to leave now, they’ll be more coming.”

You nodded dumbly, not really sure you were processing what was actually going on. Half of you was still stuck thinking you had to keep fighting, the other half wanted to be back in the cryogenic pod. He wrapped a hand around your arm and shoved the bag into your arms. 

Then you felt something heavy being pressed into the palm of your hand. You glanced down, surprised to find one of his guns in your hand. “What’re-”

“Clearly, you need something to defend yourself. You still remember how to shoot, don't you?” You nodded, of course you did, he’s the one that taught you. “Good, now move your ass.” He gave you a rough shove and you stumbled over the bodies. 

One thing you were learning was that you didn’t get a whole lot of time to process things in the Wastelands. One minute you were on the floor being stripped and the next you were ducking behind an old house to avoid raiders. You didn’t linger on what happened, you tried to keep your mind firmly gripped in the present. You couldn’t give it too much thought or you’d shut down. 

Cooper moved ahead of you, slinking around the back of the neighborhood to make sure the coast was clear. You slid the straps of the bag over your shoulders and followed quietly after him. You made it to the border of the houses and figured you could relax a bit now. 

Clearly, they weren’t coming after you. They might have heard the gunshots but they had no clue where you were. Cooper wasn’t going to risk it though, he wrapped his hand around your arm again and roughly dragged you behind him. 

“Keep up, I’m not gonna come back for you if you fall behind.”

But he already had. He could have left you to those raiders. He came back for you, even he couldn’t deny that. 

“Do you think we’ll be safe here?” He glanced up at you and nodded wordlessly. You stacked the last piece of wood for the fire and sat back. He leaned forward, striking his knife against a rock and waiting for the sparks to catch. 

You watched without thought, mind lingering on the feeling of blood sticking to your skin and clothes. Everytime you moved bits of it flaked off or crusted further onto your skin. You were nearly ready to just claw your skin off to get rid of the feeling. 

“Here,” you glanced up, surprised to find him holding up a wet cloth. “Wipe your face off, you look fucking insane.”

You grabbed it, scrubbing at your face and hands until your skin was raw. “Thanks,” you muttered, tossing the cloth back to him. He caught it and tucked it in his pocket. It felt strange between you. You’re not sure what it was exactly. Maybe you were just projecting, still worked up from what happened earlier. 

It wasn’t a bad strange, per say, just odd. “Take first watch,” he ordered. You just nodded, watching as he leaned against the wall of the old house you were camped in. He pulled his hat over his eyes and stilled. You weren’t sure he was asleep until you heard a few light snores coming from him. 

You glanced down at the gun in your hands. You opened the chamber and counted the bullets before closing it again. It wasn’t like the guns he used to teach you with, that’s for sure. It was bigger, bulkier, probably had a bitch of a recoil too. But you could point and aim well enough, hopefully you wouldn’t need to fire off more than one shot if someone did bother you tonight. 

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, you know you shouldn’t. It’s up to you to make sure no one tries to slit your throat in your sleep. But the events of the day caught up to you faster than you thought they would and before you knew it you were slumping back against the wall and dead to the world. 

Your eyes snap open at the sound of wood creaking. There’s a man, he looks like the ones from today, standing over Cooper. He’s got his knife hovering above his throat. You’re pulling the trigger before you can even think about what you’re doing. 

He lets out a howl of pain and slumps onto the floor. Cooper’s eyes shoot open and he jumps up, he pulls out his own gun but the man is already dead before he can pull the trigger. You stare at the body in shock, mind running so fast you can’t even process what you’re thinking. 

“I killed him,” you muttered. You can feel the gun slipping out of your grasp, hands shaking too badly to keep a good grip on it. “I killed him.”

Cooper walks over and picks the gun back up. He sticks it into the pocket of your backpack and grabs your face. You wince slightly as his fingers push against the bruises on your cheeks but don’t complain. He’s not being rough like you’ve come to expect. 

He stares at you for a long moment, eyes boring into yours with an unreadable expression. “I just killed him,” you whisper again. You’re still trying to reconcile with that fact. You knew it would happen eventually, today had taught you that much. But you hadn’t expected it to shock you as much as it had. 

Maybe it’s because you didn’t manage to blow his head off with one shot. You watched as the light left his eyes. 

“You did a good job, we need to move now, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

And despite what you’d just done, you could really only focus on the fact that was the first time he’d called you that without sounding cruel. 

You were getting closer to Filly, you could see a large forest a couple miles ahead of you. Being closer to the trees, even by such a little amount, was doing wonders in improving your mood. You found you didn’t mind the sun and heat as much when you just kept reminding yourself that soon you could find some shade. 

You passed by an old sunken billboard, Filly spray painted across it with an arrow pointing the way. You found yourself pushing Cooper further ahead today, more and more excited to find somewhere with halfway civilized people. 

You made it to the edge of the forest before Cooper stopped you. He threw his bag down next to a fallen log and pointed up towards the sky. “Sun’s setting, trust me, you don’t want to be exploring these woods after dark.”

The ominous tone had chills raising along your arms, you frowned and glanced towards the dense grove of trees. Something within them trilled out towards the night sky. You found yourself scooting a little closer to him, wary of what was waiting in there for you. 

He huffed out a laugh and started building a fire. You dug through your bag, pulling out the few rations you’d gleaned from the raiders. You held one out to him but he shook his head and pulled out his odd looking jerky instead. 

You’re not really sure what that shit is made of, but you know you don’t want to know. You were too afraid to ask him. Especially after you tried a bite the other day, it didn’t taste like any meat you recognized. 

You ate in a comfortable silence, the sound of your chewing drowned out by the insects flitting around in the trees above you. But he kept glancing at you, giving you odd looks that had you on edge. “What?” You finally snapped, sick of him looking at you weird. 

You hadn’t felt clean since you’d crossed the desert, but after what happened yesterday your skin was crawling with shame and disgust. You felt like you needed to scrape the skin off until you felt clean. He was making you feel even worse. 

“So,” he leaned back against the log. He took his time getting comfortable, letting you squirm before he deigned to finish his sentence. “You really didn’t leave for Vault-Tec?”

You glared at him and shook your head. Why did he still think that? How could he think that? It pissed you off to no end. “Why in God’s name would I do that?” Your tone was indignant. But there was a slightly desperate undertone to it as well. You hated the thought of Cooper genuinely thinking that you had just up and left him one day without a word. 

“Well, I don’t know. I looked for you for a while. Eventually I gave up, figured you’d just found someone else to shack up with.”

You were pained that he would think that of you. “How could you say that?”

He chuckled but it wasn’t kind, it was that cruel laugh that made you feel small, like something to be squashed under his boot. “Well, not like we meant a whole lot to each other.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Not fully processing what he was trying to say to you. “What?”

It took you by surprise, the hatred in his eyes when he glared at you. “What do you think happened, sweetheart?” You hated the way your old nickname rolled off his tongue. It sounded tainted now, twisted by his cruelty. 

“You were at the peak of your career, the sexiest actress of your generation,” he sneered at you, yellowed teeth flashing in the firelight. Your fingers curled into your palms, broken nails digging dully into your cracked skin. His eyes ticked up in interest at your minute shift in behavior. He had always been good at reading people. Except he didn’t used to use that skill so horribly. 

He didn’t let up, digging further into you when he noticed your discomfort. “You were a sex symbol, darlin’ and I was freshly divorced. Did you really think any of that was love?” He scoffed and you felt tears pricking at your eyes. “No,” he shook his head and ripped off another piece of jerky, scoffing at you. “You really think I was gonna say no to a pretty young thing like you? You were just a hole to fill, honey. That’s all.”

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut, actually, you’d think you’d prefer that to how you feel right now. It was getting hard to get the air down your throat, you felt like you were suffocating on the smoke from the fire. Winded and you hadn’t even done anything. 

Everything, everything, he was saying was perfectly concocted to hurt you as much as fucking possible. He knew how you felt about your place in the world, how desperately you had crawled your way into being seen as something human. You’re sure he’s just saying this to hurt you, to keep you away. 

If you were more mature you might even just let it go, realize it was a childish attempt at hurting you and keep going. But this was a man you’d opened up to completely. To take those parts of yourself that he knew were vulnerable and wield them like a weapon against you was something you just couldn’t look past. Especially not after what happened yesterday. 

You clenched your eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay and weakly nodded your head. “Alright. You’ve said your piece. You done?”

He nearly frowned, eyes lowering as he gave you an odd look over the fire. He seemed to be expecting something else. Maybe for you to fight back. Well, if that’s what he wanted he was going to be sorely disappointed. He’d just drained the fight out of you with a few measly insults. 

After a tense moment of silence he nodded. “Great,” you refused to look at him as you got up and grabbed your pack. 

“Where are you going?” he questioned, tone souring as you continued to avoid looking at him. 

“Far away from you as I can get,” you muttered, stalking off into the dead trees. You weren’t a complete idiot, you stayed in sight of the fire, but you couldn’t bear to lay so close to him tonight. Not after what he just said to you. Not after you thought you had finally been making progress and he threw that in your face. 

“Fine, pout all you want sweetheart, give the radroaches a nice meal!” He shouted at your retreating back. You still kept your head down, hand clutched over your stomach while you tried not to cry. You threw your bag down on the ground, a choked sob slipping through your lips while you sank against a tree. 

You felt so stupid! To actually believe that any of the man you loved was left in him had been a fool’s hope. You wiped your eyes harshly, pissed at yourself for crying again. This was the apocalypse, there wasn’t time to cry and moan because the man you loved didn’t love you back. 

You’d dealt with that feeling for years when you pined after Cooper. You could deal with it again. 

Only, the last time you’d pined like this, you hadn’t actually had a taste of what being with him was really like. Knowing that the whole time you were with him he just saw you as something to pass the time hurt you more than you wanted to admit. 

You glanced over your shoulder, watching as he packed away the rest of his food and sank back against the log. He tilted his hat over his eyes and settled in for the night. You turned back around, using the dwindling light of the fire to scope out the forest before you. 

Cooper had said it was only a day’s walk to Filly. Go a mile north into the trees and you’d find the signs pointing the way. His cruel words festered bitterly in your stomach and you found yourself on your feet before you could really think about what you were doing. 

You crept your way towards the campfire and grabbed one of the burning sticks. Cooper shifted and you stilled, wincing as you waited for him to wake up and question what you were doing. But he just shifted onto his side. You ran back towards your bag and threw it over your shoulder. 

You only spared Cooper one last look before you made your way further into the woods. He’d made it clear enough that he wasn’t looking for companionship or friendship. You could respect that, but you weren’t going to tolerate him being a fucking dick to you at every opportunity he got. 

If he wanted to see how far he could push you until you reached the edge, he’d done it. You were done trying to cater to his temper. You could make it a day on your own. After that, you’d find something for yourself in Filly, but you were sure as hell done with Cooper Howard. 

He was a ghost that should have stayed fucking dead. 

SERIES TAGLIST: @pixelatedprofilepic @o0mellowdramatic0o @bisasterbisexual @julianmarie @v3n1x @weakling-grace @coolrobloxkid28 @sunnexaltation @fiftyshadesofokay @ktdragonborn

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #fallout tv series

[janaispunk]

heaven can't help me now

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You're afraid Dave might not like you as much as you like him. ...Meanwhile, Dave is afraid of the same thing. (They're idiots okay)

word count: 6.5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, phone sex, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, biting, cream pie, use of panties as a gag, orgasm denial, pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, throwing around these ideas with you is so fun, i love you <3

taylor swift said “what if he’s written mine on my upper thigh” and i took that personally

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading! <3 (and listening to me freak out about this on a daily basis)

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Dave regrets the message as soon as the small text underneath it switches from delivered to read. 

He knows that he’s been cruel to you, he could see the confusion and hurt written all over your face when he drove you home. But he has to be the responsible one, the adult in this situation. The one who’s able to hold back. Nothing should have happened between you and him, not once, let alone twice. He shouldn’t indulge in this, shouldn’t give you hope. 

He has always looked down on men who were with women much younger than them. Midlife crisis. Not able to have a relationship with someone on the same maturity level. 

That’s not who he is. He understands that the reason why you’re attracted to him lies at least partially in your relationship with your father, and he won’t take advantage of that. It’s not who he is and it’s not what you deserve. 

You’re gonna go back to college in a few weeks and he can pretend that none of this ever happened. You’re gonna meet a nice boy your age, become a lawyer, get married and live your life the way you’re supposed to. Eventually, the memory of you writhing underneath him, your voice so sweet and needy in your desperation, surely won’t be as vivid as it is right now.

But then he found your panties between the cushions of his couch, still damp with your arousal, still smelling of you. His mind started wandering, conjuring images that he should be ashamed of. The things he could do to you, the things he could show you. 

It’s like he’s lost in a haze, stroking his throbbing cock to fantasies of you, all the depraved shit that some respectful fellow student would never do, but that he knows you crave. He hears your whimpers so clearly in his head, pictures your face, so pretty begging him for things only he knows how to give you, until he releases himself all over the lacy bit of fabric that’s clutched between his fingers. 

But now you’re not answering, and shame is swirling in his stomach, surely now he’s overstepped, why did he even think– 

His racing thoughts are interrupted by the quiet ping of his phone and a message from you. Just a photo, no text. 

His eyes widen, taking in the image. He can’t see your face, only the shape of your tits, already so familiar to him, covered in dark, lacy fabric. Exactly the same color, exactly the same pattern as the fabric that he soiled and photographed to send to you.

You put on the matching bra for him, he realizes. Which is probably why it took you longer than usual to answer, you had to get into the lingerie and put yourself all prettily on display for him. He drinks in the shape of you, the skin that he knows would feel so soft underneath his touch, the swell of your breasts, the nipples hidden behind lace, how they would harden for him, how you would squirm if he–

Desire starts coursing through him again, and he feels like a teenager, reduced to this by just a photo. His thumb finds your name on the display almost instinctively.

“Fuck, baby.”

The rasp of his voice hits your ear as soon as you accept the call. Your heart had been hammering away inside your chest since you hit send on the photo. 

“You like it?” 

You hate how needy you sound, how desperate for his approval. David exhales sharply and you wish you were with him again.

“Trust me, I like it very much.” 

Your cheeks heat at his tone. He blows all other thoughts out of your head. You forget how rejected you felt, how you told yourself you wouldn’t let it happen again. It doesn’t matter, not when he talks to you like this. You whisper a thank you and he chuckles. 

“Are you in bed, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, considering the words resting on the top of your tongue. Deciding to take the leap. “Wish you were here too.”

You don’t need to see his face to know how he purses his lips, how he slowly curls them into a smirk.

“Mhm? What would you like me to do if I was?” 

Your face burns hotter. 

“I– Touch me, use your fingers to–” 

He groans, a rich, deep sound in your ear. You’re still sore, but your fingertips ghost down your body anyway, chasing the need that’s building up between your legs again. You gasp when they find your clit, already swollen and covered in your slick. 

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yes, please David, I need–”

“Don’t worry, baby. I got you.” 

He keeps talking to you, low murmurs in your ear, directing your fingers over your body. He doesn’t let up until you’ve come twice, until he’s reduced you to a whimpering mess without even being there. 

He doesn’t apologize for earlier, not directly at least. You didn’t expect him to. In a twisted way, that you’re not sure anyone but the two of you would understand, this was his apology. 

You’re not sure what changed his mind, but he doesn’t go back to his distant self afterwards. Maybe he’s come to the same realization as you. That neither of you is going to be able to stay away. 

He’s on your mind constantly, you catch yourself checking your phone for new messages way too often and smiling down at the screen whenever he’s texting you. You know that you shouldn’t act like this, shouldn’t give him that much power in your mind. But it feels so good, to be seen, to be wanted like that. 

You’re both busy; he’s working on an important case and you’re in desperate need to catch up on job applications and college work, which you’ve neglected over the past few days, as your father is quick to remind you. 

But you keep exchanging messages, keep sharing hushed whispers at night. It never lets up, the thrill of his voice guiding your fingers and hearing the sounds that he makes when he’s putting his hands on himself. Knowing that it’s you, the thought of you that elicits them. 

You’re having dinner with your father, who is home earlier than most days, the brightly lit dining room reflecting off the massive windows, when the bubble bursts. 

“You remember Dave, right? From the country club?”

You freeze, your fork hovering in the air over your plate. He knows, your mind screams. No, there’s no way he would know. 

You fight hard to appear nonchalant, to not let your face betray you. You nod, humming questioningly in a way that you hope sounds innocent enough. 

“I told you how he got divorced recently, didn’t I? It’s been hard on him, poor fella…” 

Your dad sighs and shakes his head. You furrow your brow, at a complete loss where this conversation might be going. 

“Well, guess who got him a date?! Cheryl from the office is single and I realized, she’s perfect for him! An amazing match. He never goes out, always been a bit of a loner, I guess… But I set them up and they went out last night! Great, huh?” 

Your mind is running a mile a minute. You force a weak smile, lifting your head to meet your father’s proud grin. 

“Y-yeah, dad. Great,” you echo. You feel hollow.

He leans back in his chair, looking extremely pleased with himself. 

“Looks like I’m gonna have to play matchmaker for you too, eventually, with the way things are going, hm?” 

Under different conditions, the snide remark about your dating life and how he’s never been even remotely happy with any guy you had dared to bring home, would sting a lot more. Right now though, you’re reeling from the fact that David went out with another woman last night. 

“Sure,” you whisper. “May I please be excused?” 

You don’t wait for an answer, already pushing back from the table and rushing up the stairs. Back in your room, you grab your phone, scrolling through your past messages. You didn’t hear from him last night, which you hadn’t found weird at the time, but it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now. 

Maybe he finally realized that someone his age would be much better suited for him. A real woman, not some little girl who still goes to school, calls him drunk in the middle of the night and can’t stand up against her father. Of course that’s not what he wants. 

You pace in your room, thoughts running through your head. Do you confront him? You never talked about it, never discussed exclusivity, but still… You don’t want anyone else and you had thought that he wouldn’t either.

After tossing and turning in your bed for hours, you decide not to ask David about it, to not contact him at all. Maybe that’s for the best. Save him the trouble of letting you down. It’s like a weight pulling under, the uncertainty and fear of this being it tying itself into a tight knot in your stomach. But you’ve been desperate enough for him already, you try to reason, you need to stop embarrassing yourself by running after him. 

He texts you the next day, sounding just the same way he always does. You can’t bring yourself to not reply to him at all, but it’s clipped, one-sentence answers, which he picks up on soon enough. His name lights up your phone as you’re hunched over your desk in your bedroom, pondering over an essay that you’re supposed to write over the break. 

“Hello?” 

“Sweetheart.” The deep smoothness of his voice travels from the speaker right under your skin, holding you under his spell the way he always does. “Is something wrong?”

You bite your lip, muttering a no in reply. You sound like a petulant teenager, everything that you don’t want him to see you as.

“Now why do I not believe that?”

You hear his smile in the way he sounds. You want to see him so badly, want to be on the receiving end of that smile. You wonder if Cheryl from the office got to see it last night too. If he’s given her all the parts of him that he’s given you. 

“Dunno.” There’s a sting in your voice, not unlike the sting that you feel piercing through your heart at the thought of him with someone else. 

Dave frowns at the way you sound. You’re never this short with him, never seemed so sad since that night you called him drunk and he turned you down. And even then, it was different, not dismissive the way you are now. 

His anxious mind immediately provides him with a variety of explanations. Maybe you’ve finally come to your senses and realized that you don’t want him. That you don’t want a man twice your age, that him wanting you actually makes him a fucking creep, that he isn’t as great as you’ve built him up to be in your head. Maybe you’ve realized that what you’re doing is wrong. He wouldn’t blame you for it. One of you should be reasonable and end things for good. He has been telling himself that.

But you sound so upset that worry settles in his gut. He feels that pull towards you again, only that it’s not explicitly sexual this time. He just really needs to see you, to touch you, to make sure that you’re okay. 

The invitation for you to come over leaves his lips without thinking about it, just the overwhelming need to have you close. You pause, so long that he gets even more uneasy, but eventually you agree.

Dave knows that something is wrong as soon as he opens the door. You look smaller, slightly curling in on yourself. You don’t meet his gaze, eyes downturned and without the spark in them that he sees in his mind when he thinks about you. He pulls you into a hug, one that you barely return.

His bedroom door is once again firmly closed, and he’s directing you towards his couch again. Still the last invisible line, the one that he tells himself will keep him from letting you in all the way. Your eyes linger there for a moment, he can almost see the wheels turning in your head. You deflate even more.

He hates to see you like this. Fights the urge to wrap you in his arms, satisfy his hunger for your lips and fuck you until every trace of that sadness written over your face is erased.

The door that you presume leads to his bedroom is closed, just like the last time you were here. You wonder if he opened it for Cheryl, if she got to see a part of him that you didn’t. Then again, he probably treated her like a lady. Wined and dined her properly, maybe a chaste kiss to say good night. Because she’s someone who’s right for him, someone worth putting the effort in. Not the quick fuck that you had been. 

He probably invited you over to tell you in person that he really can’t see you anymore. That he means it this time. You suppose that in his mind, that’s the decent thing to do. You think that you would have rather had him text you about it. That way you wouldn’t have to pretend, wouldn’t have to tell him to his face that it’s fine, that you understand, don’t worry.

Still, he called and you came running. Like a fucking idiot. 

You sit down on the edge of his couch, decidedly keeping the images of the last time you were here buried in your memories. “Do you want something to drink?” You shake your head no and he sits down beside you. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the simmering need that you feel for him, even now. Please just get it over with.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know.” You’re not looking at him, keeping your eyes on your hands, your fingers gripping each other tightly, tense like the rest of your body.

“Do all what?” 

You bite your lip, attempting to swallow down the anger at the fact that he’s gonna make you the one to say it, but it’s no use. Your eyes fly up to meet his. 

“Make me come here, to talk to me in person, or whatever it is you think you’re doing. You– you could’ve just texted me.”

He furrows his brow, a hint of defensiveness in his warm brown eyes. 

“What are you talking about?” 

You scoff. “My dad told me. About your date.” You’re never like this, your voice biting and your eyes glaring. You’re never like this and you have no right to be like this now, getting worked up over the end of something that never even was, not really. “I’m sure she’s nice. A great match, he said, so you’re gonna tell me to fuck off. It’s okay, I understand.”

Your voice breaks on the last word. A lump is building in your throat and your eyes burn with unshed tears. This can’t be happening. It’s bad enough that you feel this much about it, but it’s indefinitely worse to have him know it. 

David’s expression softens. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s not–” He slips one hand in between yours, gently pries your fingers away from each other. “You thought that’s why I asked you to come over here?” 

You shrug, once again unable to meet his gaze. 

“The date was shit. I wouldn’t even have gone if Jim hadn’t kept bugging me about it.”

Inhaling deeply, you slowly trail your eyes up to his face again. 

“Really?”

He nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. His lips press against your forehead. 

“Promise.” He sighs. “You sounded so upset, that’s why I asked you to come–”

You sniffle, suddenly feeling stupid about the whole scene you made. He holds you a little longer, and you revel in his scent that’s engulfing you, in the warmth and solidness of his body. When he finally pulls away, his hand finds your chin and lifts it until you’re looking straight at him. A hint of amusement is glinting in his eyes.

“Were you jealous, baby?” 

You’re well aware that he can see right through you, but shake your head anyway. He allows himself a grin.

“What then? Worried that you’ll find no one else to fuck you like I do?” 

Heat is burning in your cheeks, but you can’t help but laugh. He’s not wrong, at least partially. 

Your lips curling up and the soft laugh tumbling out of you soothes him, eases the sting in his chest. The severity of your reaction to the idea of him dumping you for another woman took him off guard. He never wants to see that kind of hurt written over your face ever again. 

He should have told you, he realizes that now. He knew nothing would come out of meeting with that woman that Jim had been boasting about all week, but what was he supposed to say? No need pal, I already got everything I need fucking your daughter? 

He doesn’t know when you began feeling like everything he needed. He knows that you shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t check his phone as often as he does, shouldn’t spend his days fantasizing about you, shouldn’t imagine you by his side almost constantly. 

But how can he not, when you’re looking at him like this, your eyes so wide, so filled with trust. Always ready, always desperate to give him everything of you. Like a dream come true that he didn’t know he had. 

“Maybe,” you admit, teasingly but still so, so soft. Everything about you is so fucking soft. His to touch, his to defile. Because, inexplicably, you fucking let him.

He needs to reassure you that he’s worthy of that trust. He leans in closer, feels your breath ghosting over his face as his nose nudges against yours. He pauses, searches your expression for a moment. You dip your chin down in a tiny nod and he’s onto you, chases your mouth with his. He pours all the emotion that he doesn’t understand, can’t begin to name, into the kiss. How much he misses you, how often you are on his mind. How he doesn’t want to hurt you, wants to do right by you, but has no clue how.

Your lips move against his with more fervor, a mess of tongues and teeth clashing against one another. Your whimpers drip into his mouth, leaving him drunk off you. Heat spreads through him, like a fire that’s going to consume you both. He thinks that he wants it to. 

He trails kisses down your throat, sucks at the skin, relishes in the shivers that it sends through your body. You grasp at his shirt, trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons, but he stops you. Nipping at your collarbone, he looks up at you, takes in your wide blown pupils, the hunger in your eyes.

Maybe this is all he can give you, but he’s going to do that right. He’s going to give you what he can, as long as you let him. 

He hooks his fingers under the neckline of your dress, pulls it down a little, inhales the sweet scent of your perfume. Every new inch of your skin that he reveals fills him with the need to worship it. 

“Will you let me make it up to you, sweetheart?” He mouths at your skin again, his eyes still trained on your face. “Let me make you feel good?” 

You nod eagerly, a breathy please, David falling from your lips. He runs his hands up your thighs, marvels at the almost feverish warmth of your skin, before he lifts your dress and helps you pull it over your head. 

Your underwear is white this time, a picture of innocence that only he knows is an illusion. His arousal swells at the thought, his cock pushing against the confines of his pants. 

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this,” he admits, his hands trailing over your waist, tightening his grip momentarily and enjoys watching you squirm in response. “I think about you all the time.” 

Your gaze flickers for a moment, and he realizes what he just said. It’s not a lie, but also not a truth that he intended for you to know. You bite your lip, expression turning thoughtful for a moment. Then a small smile spreads over your face. 

“M–me too,” you whisper, a bit shy, like you’re still half-expecting him to take it back, but putting your trust in him anyway. 

He has to kiss you again, remove all remaining doubts about how much he wants you from your mind. Licking into your mouth, he starts toying with the cups of your bra, pulling them down just so that his fingertips can graze over your nipples. You press your body into his touch, your back arching off the cushions, and he undoes the clasp, lets the fabric fall away from your body. 

He runs his fingers over your flesh, teases the hardening buds, loves the way you keen into his mouth in response. Palming your tits roughly, he pulls away a little to look at them. He doesn’t think that he’ll ever tire of the sight of his hands on you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs. “Like you were made for me.” It stings only a little right in this moment, while he’s touching you, to know that you are not. He can keep pretending, for a while. It’s worth it, seeing how you light up at the praise, how you drink in his every word, sinking deeper into his touch. His, his, his.

David peels your panties off of you, the image of the white lace against his hand one that you know will burn itself into your memory. His eyes linger on the fabric, a grin slowly growing on his face. Arousal tingles at your spine at the sight. You’re entirely bare now while he hasn’t removed one item of clothing. The obvious power dynamic leaves you feeling vulnerable, you and your body at his mercy, but you trust him. To treat you the way you want, need to be treated, to push you to your limits and to still keep you safe.

The weight of his hands lands on your thighs, slowly pushing them apart, making room for his body between them. You’re acutely aware of how wet you are, and how clearly he can see it right now, with your folds all spread out right in front of him. You feel your slick coating your inner thighs, feel his breath ghosting against it.

He groans at the sight and sinks to his knees, almost at eye level with your pussy. The realization of what he’s about to do sinks in as he leans forward and places a gentle kiss against your clit that has you trembling. But still–

“Y–you don’t have to do that,” you stutter, suddenly feeling a different kind of vulnerable. A shame that you can’t explain starts welling up inside of you. 

He pulls back, sitting back on his haunches and looking up at you. His hands gently push your thighs back together, leaving you less exposed. 

“Do you not want me to?”

You bite your lip, fighting not to avoid his gaze. “I don’t know. I– I’ve never–” Your voice trails off. A fire is burning in his eyes, intimidating you. 

“No one’s ever eaten you out?” He sounds incredulous. 

You shake your head, shoulders moving up in a shrug, a wave of embarrassment growing in you. “Men don’t really… like to. In my experience.” 

He sighs and leans forward, presses a soft kiss to your left knee. “Most men are idiots.” It’s mumbled into your skin, lips moving against it. His fingertips inch up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You deserve to feel good, baby.” His voice sinks into your skin, low and raspy, and you have no choice but to believe it. “Will you let me make you feel good?” he asks again.

His dark eyes are on you, his fingers still tracing shapes over your skin. So close to where you want him. You’d let him do anything. 

“Please, David,” you whisper, for the second time. 

He pries your legs back open, a low growl in his throat as you’re spread out for him. Then he dives in, licking and sucking at your clit, gently at first, but quickly getting more intense, until stars start to burst behind your eyelids and you’re gasping his name. It’s overwhelming, unlike anything that you’ve ever experienced before. 

He lets up momentarily, licking through your slit, drinking up your arousal that’s dripping out of you and groaning at the taste of you. His mouth moves to your inner thighs, kissing and sucking on the sensitive flesh. He bites down suddenly, sinking his teeth into your skin and you scream his name at the unexpected burst of pain that transforms into pleasure almost instantly. 

He does it again, and again, leaving his marks on your body. It hurts just right, the sensation of him leaving his trace on you, marking you as his. You clench around nothing, desperate to feel him on your clit again, to take you the final bit to the top. 

As if he was reading your mind, he lets up his ministrations on your thighs and kisses his way to the spot where you need him so desperately. Your fingers sink into his hair, tugging at the roots, and he looks up at you, smug pride glinting in his eyes. He licks through your folds, nudges at your entrance with his tongue, before his lips find your clit again, closing around the sensitive nub. 

You come within seconds, the waves of your arousal crashing over you so suddenly that it takes your breath away. His groans vibrate against your skin as he laps at you, drinking you down. You feel like you’re in heaven. 

David gives you time to calm down, gently mouths at your heated skin, licks over the spots where you feel the indents of his teeth, before he kisses his way up your body. You taste yourself on his lips when they connect with yours. It’s messy, and filthy, and you can’t get enough of it. 

You whimper when he pulls back and his eyes find yours again, his almost black, the pupils blown wide. He rises to his feet and looks down to where you’re spread out, thighs parted, on full display for him as he towers over you. He leans down, a finger tapping against your mouth.

“Open.” 

Your lips part immediately, giving him all the access he wants. He groans at your obedience, trails his knuckles over your cheek for a moment, before raising his hand to your eyes. He’s holding your panties again. 

“These are so pretty. Would be a shame to just leave them lying around, don’t you think?” 

You let out a sound, something akin to agreement. His grin widens. 

“Good girl.” 

His fingers push the fabric into your mouth, your spit soaking the material, mixing with the arousal that’s already sticking to it. You moan at the taste, your eyelids fluttering shut. 

His palm connects with your cheek in a light slap. Not hard enough to sting, but your eyes fly back open at the sensation. You grind down onto the cushions, desperate for friction as another wave of need floods you. 

“Eyes on me, remember?” 

You try voicing a sorry, but it comes out garbled and he chuckles. Soothing his fingers over the spot he just slapped. 

“There’s no need for you to talk. Just be a good girl and take what I give you, yeah?” 

Your body is buzzing, but your mind is blissfully empty. Ready to give yourself over to him, to submit to whatever he asks. It feels so good, so easily being able to please for once in your life. To follow rules and be praised for it. Simple. Safe. 

He wraps the lace around your head and ties it together in the back, effectively gagging you, leaving your mouth opened, the fabric stretching against the corners. Your desire is coursing through your body with so much force that it’s almost painful. 

He kisses you over the gag, pressing his lips against yours. One of his hands wraps around your throat, applying a hint of pressure. Your hips chase him, your arousal close to unbearable. He chuckles against your mouth before he pulls back.

“Such a good girl.”

He teases you endlessly. Drinks in the sight of you writhing under him as his fingers are back on your nipples, tugging them harshly and eliciting soft mewls from you. You look beautiful in the golden light of the evening sun that’s falling through his windows, almost angelic. 

An angel that he wrecked, already so fucked out when he finally sheds his own clothes and starts sliding his cock through your folds. He coats himself with the slick of your desire, taps his head against your clit, nudges at your entrance again and again without sliding inside. 

Your whimpering cries are music to his ears, your fingernails digging into his shoulders sting just right. You’re pleading with him through the makeshift gag, your words all muffled, and he revels in the desperation in your eyes. Loves the sight of it. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he coos, slides over your clit again. “Tell me.” 

You’re trying, trying so hard to get out real words, and he chuckles at your efforts. Deciding to grant you a little mercy, he pushes the head of his weeping cock into you. He throbs at the feeling of it, of how your slick pissy tries pulling him in deeper. You’re whining at the stretch, your hands desperately grabbing at him, before he pulls back again. 

Your eyes are swimming with tears, silently pleading with him. It’s like a rush. You’re always such a good, polite and well-behaved girl, so sweet, and here you are, completely bare and spread out underneath him, crying to get fucked. By him. He’s a bad man, he knows it. He doesn’t care, not when it feels like this. 

He smirks down at you. “Say please.” 

It’s obvious that you’re trying, your tongue struggling against the soaked fabric in your mouth. He lines himself up once more, looks at your face, at the desperate hope written out in your eyes. Then he slams into you. You scream, gripping his shoulders so tightly that he thinks you’ve drawn blood. He couldn’t care less.

Now that he feels your tight walls all around his cock, engulfing him with pulsing heat, it’s impossible to tease you any longer. He pulls back, just to sink deep into you, again and again. You cry out at every thrust, every time that he hits that spot deep inside of you that leaves you such a trembling mess. 

He can tell when you’re starting to tighten around him, your cries getting higher, and he knows that you’re close. Slowing down, he leans his head down to yours, his thrusts becoming more shallow. 

“Hold it,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting against the soft shell of your ear. A whine escapes from your throat, fresh tears falling from your eyes, your whole body trembling underneath him, your cunt squeezing him deliciously tight. He’s breathless, high on the control you’re giving him, on your level of obedience, doing every single thing that he asks from you. 

Letting you calm down a little, he busies himself with kissing every inch of your skin that he can reach. Almost bursting with arousal himself, he knows that he’s not gonna be able to keep this up much longer. 

When he speeds up again, he sets a harsh rhythm, jostling your body with every thrust, mesmerized by the way your tits bounce with the movement. Your walls start tightening around him again, pulling him in. He can’t hold back anymore. 

“I’m gonna come. Gonna leave you just as messy as those little panties of yours. ‘S that what you want?” 

You nod eagerly, more unintelligible pleads stumbling through the gag. 

“Fuck, come here–“ His fingers scramble, ripping the fabric out of your mouth to kiss you properly, to feel your tongue against his. 

His hips move at rapid speed, pumping into you and chasing both your orgasms. He’s breathless, high on the feeling of your wet cunt squeezing him so tight. You come with a cry, muffled by his mouth on yours, and the sensation of you clenching around him sends him over the edge as well. He buries himself deep inside of you, spilling his cum to leave you just as messy as he promised you. 

“Fucking perfect, like you were made for me, only want you sweetheart…” He’s rambling, barely aware of what he's saying, still lost in the bliss of his orgasm. The words only register when an unreadable expression flies over your face in reaction. Shit. He goes through things to say, ways to somehow explain, though he couldn’t even explain the words to himself. 

His mind quiets when you smile shyly and burrow your face in his neck. He moves the both of you until you’re a tangle of intertwined limbs, resting on his cushions, watching as the light slowly fades outside. You’re warm in his arms, your breath coming softly, fanning against his skin. It feels too right to be wrong, he decides silently. 

The peaceful silence between you breaks with a chime from his phone, a message from  your father. 

“Looks like I’m invited to have dinner at yours,” he says, turning the screen towards you. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, grabbing for your own phone to check the time. “I should get going.” 

He helps you get dressed, until your still soaked panties end up in his hands again. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the hem of your skirt, on the bare thighs beneath them. You take a step closer, your hand stretched out for them, but he pulls them away, sliding them into his pocket. 

A smirk grazes your features as you take another step closer. “Again? Really?” 

He shrugs, takes your hand to pull you into him. Your responding giggle is a sound that he’ll never get tired of. He sneaks a hand under your dress, palms your bare ass and presses your body against his. 

“Be a good girl and stay like this, for dinner,” he murmurs against your lips, before he kisses you once more. 

A grin slowly grows on your face as you realize what he’s saying. 

“Deal,” you agree, your eyes glinting. 

You’re sitting down next to him, sliding into the chair beside him with the most innocent, sweetest smile to both your father and him. You’re still wearing the dress that you left his place in, the one that, if you’ve been good, you’re bare underneath. 

He reaches for you almost instantly, hidden under the tabletop, the pull towards your skin too strong to resist. You tense up for a moment, throwing him a quick glance, before you relax into his touch. He draws circles, featherlight on your skin, and you part your thighs a little more, allowing him to slide further between them. 

Focussing on the conversation with your father isn’t easy, not when you’re right here beside him, so pliant under his touch. 

“So, how was it with Cheryl?” your father asks, far too invested in the whole thing for Dave’s liking. You’re looking down at your plate, your shoulders slumped forward. 

He shrugs, his hand traveling upwards, beneath the hem of your skirt, pulling your thighs apart a little more. “She’s nice, but– Not the right fit for me, I think.” 

The memory of meeting the woman flashes through his mind. “You must be Dave,” accompanied by a shake of his hand. All wrong, so different from the way it sounds when David falls from your lips. He had wanted to leave right then and there. His grip on you tightens at the memory. 

“Well that’s a shame,” Jim sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I really thought you two were a good match.” 

Dave grunts noncommittally, taking another bite of his food. 

“This one,” your father continues, his eyes falling to you, “has yet to find a good match as well. Not the best choices so far.” He chuckles, either blind or indifferent to the way you seem to shrink in your chair. You mumble something about focussing on school and your career right now, your voice so small that it breaks Dave’s heart. 

“Boys your age are idiots anyway,” he says, grinning at how your eyes widen, his emphasis on your age in no way lost on you. “Wouldn’t want to have them distracting you, right?” 

You nod silently, but fire burns in your eyes when his hand reaches so high that his fingers swirl through the slick that’s covering your upper thighs. Dave grits his teeth, fighting the urge to kiss you right here and now, consequences be damned.

It’s wrong, it’s so so wrong, but it’s like he’s lost in a haze, high on the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. On the way your thighs fall open so willingly for him, always such a good and obedient girl. On the way you both know that you’re bare underneath your skirt, dripping with the filthy proof of what you did together. On the way he’s staked his claim all over your inner thighs, to the point that he’s certain the indents of his teeth are still pressed into your flesh. All while your father has no idea what’s happening right in front of him. 

The secret rebellion of it thrills you, he understands that now. He wonders if that’s what he is to you, an opportunity to do something so deliciously forbidden that you couldn’t resist. He’ll gladly be that for you. The idea to be the person who brought this out in you thrills him too. 

He somehow makes it through the evening. Not a single conversation topic has found its way into his memories. All he can think about, all that he knows he will remember is the feeling of you under his tight grip. All his. 

You had excused yourself when your father brought out the whiskey, squeezed his hand under the table before you stood up, carefully smoothing out your skirt. Call me, you had mouthed, turning back to look at him before exiting the room. 

He knows that he will.

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #fic: wildest dreams #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedrostories

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 42]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

"We're going down to the beach, jagiya. Wanna come with?" Wooyoung poked his head into your room.

"I just laid down after unpacking. Go ahead, I'll join in a bit." You groaned, waving him off. He scurried over to give you a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

"Psst, baby." Yunho came in after Wooyoung left. You said something, muffled by the blanket that you face was squished against. You heard him laugh and his feet padding over. Then all of a sudden, you felt his weight on you as he laid his body over yours.

"Ack! Yunho!" You turned your head to protest.

"Hi, my love." He flipped you over to face him and hovered over you. He grinned and showered you in kisses.

"Mmm! Okay, enough. Down, puppy!" You yelled, trying to stop his attack on you but that wasn't going to deter him. He just attacked your even more.

"Why didn't you want to go to the beach with the others?" He yelled, wrapping his arms around your waist, dropping beside you.

"Tired from unpacking. I might take a short nap before going." You yawned, turning to face him.

"We should be sharing a room. You know I'll still come over to sleep here anyway. Why don't you want to share a room with me?" He whined, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.

"Well, sometimes I might want to room with Hwa or Woo too. You have to be fair, Yun." You squished his cheeks in your hands, making him lips pucker. It was so cute that you giggled, leaning forward to press your lips against his. But Yunho had other plans, hand coming to hold your head in place so he could kiss you longer.

"Can't breathe!" You smacked his shoulder to let you go. He just had a big grin on his face.

"I am being fair. I'm your boyfriend so naturally, I room with you. Simple as that." He pointed out. You rolled your eyes, slinging an arm over his shoulders.

"Come on. You hardly spend time with Mingi too ever since we started dating. He was excited to room with you." You said.

"I doubt it. And we've been spending our whole lives together, he's fine." Yunho scoffed.

"I'm going to nap." You turned to reach for your phone on the nightstand and set an alarm. You did still want to hang at the beach for a while so you definitely didn't want to oversleep.

"Sleep then, love. This vacation is also for you to relax and get some rest." Yunho stroked your hair, kissing your forehead.

"You too, Yun... You've been putting in so much time and effort to running the restaurant so this will be a break for you too, hmm?" You looked up at him, fingers brushing against his chin. He nodded and tightened his hold around you.

"Baby, wake up~ We gonna go to the beach remember?" Yunho sang, kissing your cheek multiple times. You scowled, elbowing him in the ribs to make him go away.

"I forgot what Seonghwa hyung said about trying to wake you..." He groaned in pain.

"Come on, love. You'll regret it if you don't go. The boys are already there." Yunho was relentless, holding a pillow in front of his face now.

"Buh me beech wi sil pee der." You mumbled.

"My sweet love, I have no idea what you're saying right now." Yunho giggled, pressing his face into the side of your face, giving you another kiss on the cheek.

"There, there, up we go!" He enthusiastically lifted you to sit up, cooing at you as if you were a baby while brushing the hair away from your face.

You let out a long sigh and opened your eyes, shooting Yunho the stink eye. He just smiled smugly and hugged you to his chest. Groaning and whining, you slid out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, grabbing your bathing suit on the way. You tied your hair into a bun and put on sunscreen.

"Alright. Done." You emerged from the bathroom. Yunho was not expecting you to be in your bathing suit with his shirt as a cover.

"I-Is that my shirt?" He blinked, feeling his cheeks heat up and his ears turn red.

"Uh, yeah. It's one of the one you left at mine. Is it okay if I borrow it? It's the perfect length to cover the bathing suit, you and your long torso." You chuckled.

"I'm more than fine with it. You look great in my clothes, wear it more often." He put his hands on your hips.

"Sure." You laughed at how silly he was, tip toeing to give him a kiss.

"Go change, I'll meet you downstairs." You said. Yunho nodded and went to his room. You went to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of sodas and bags of snacks to eat.

"I'm ready! Let's go swim!" Yunho marched up the stairs from his shared bedroom with Mingi. You figured that they probably took one of the basement rooms. He carried the drinks for you so you could grab your things with a towel tucked under your arm.

"Look who woke up the sleeping bear." Seonghwa ran over to you, seeing you and Yunho walk over to the shore front from the deck.

"Did you just call me a bear?" You scoffed.

"Thought we wouldn't see you for the rest of the day." Mingi chuckled, patting your shoulder. You punched his arm and went to sit with Hongjoong under the beach umbrella.

"Ocean not your thing?" You asked, opening on of the soda bottles and taking a gulp.

"When all Mingi and San want to do is drown each other, then Wooyoung and Jongho join in on that... It's not fun." He scoffed.

"Their chaos knows no end." You shook your head. Speaking of, you watched how Wooyoung tackled Yunho to the sand and Jongho helped by stacking himself on top.

"PUPPY PILE!" San yelled and the rest all stacked on top, making you and Hongjoong wince.

"Yah! Be careful! I still need an intact boyfriend at the end of the day!" You yelled but of course they ignored you, continuing to squish your tall boyfriend into the sand. All you could do was watch and hear Yunho's yells of defeat and the others' yells of victory echo throughout the whole beach.

"(y/n)! Save me!" Yunho called out.

"Looks like you've got it under control, Yun!" You yelled back, raising your drink to him. Eventually, they did let Yunho come up but he stormed over to you.

"How did I have it under control?! I was suffocating and dying! Nice to know you have my back!" Yunho frowned.

"Sorry, Yun. There was no way I could stop them. They would just stack on top of me too." You shrugged, shaking your head.

"Don't pout." You patted his cheek, holding up the bottle of soda you brought for him as some sort of peace offering. Yunho did take it but set it down without drinking, confusing you.

"Yunho!" You squealed as he suddenly lifted you up bridal style. You scrambled to wrap your arms around his neck.

"Jeong Yunho! You overgrown golden retriever! Put me down now!" You scolded, watching as he headed towards to the water.

"The water is looking nice and cooling, isn't it, love?" Yunho smirked as he stood in the water that brushed against his knees. You continued to yell for your friends to help you, clutching onto Yunho like a scared cat.

"Remember cats don't like water, Yunho!" Seonghwa yelled from where he was standing, just watching this go down. You shot him a glare, that wasn't very helpful.

"Yunho, you'll regret this." You threatened.

"You're so cute when you try to be fierce, love. But remember, you asked for this." He chuckled.

"How did I ask for this?! I offered you a soda! I seriously encourage you to reconsider this, Yunho!" You squealed. He seemed to contemplate it for a second and you were relieved.

Until he dropped you. But your tight grip on his neck didn't relent, ending up with him being dragged down as well.

"Ah~ It's cold!" You splashed the water at Yunho, a dramatic frown and pout on your face while he laughed.

"Park Seonghwa!" You got up and ran over to your best friend.

"Oh no, you're not!" Seonghwa ran away, knowing what you were going to do. Luckily this time, Jongho and Wooyoung helped you, stopping Seonghwa and holding him in place. You plastered your wet self to him, hugging him tightly. He howled at the feeling of the cold wetness seeping into his skin.

"You!" Seonghwa's face looked like the red-faced angry emoji and you ran to get a headstart, turning to see him chase you angrily. You laughed out loud as you ran.

"Ack!" You saw Yunho doing to same to Mingi, hugging him with his best friend with wet clothes too.

"Got you!" Seeing how you were momentarily distracted by Yunho and Mingi, Seonghwa tackled you into the sand.

"Yeah! Panné her like a pork cutlet!" Wooyoung cheered Seonghwa on. The both of you burst out laughing, of course all of you would use food analogies to egg each other on.

"Choi San! Kang Yeosang! Put me down!" The both of you watched Yeosang and San carry Hongjoong to the water.

"No!" His sunglasses were slipping down his face as he squirmed but the two were the strongest in the group, he wouldn't be able to fight them off.

"Yah! I'm your hyung!" Hongjoong panicked, his voice going an octave higher.

"Bye, hyung!" On the count of 3, the two men flung Hongjoong's body into the water like he weighed nothing, quickly fleeing the scene before Hongjoong could recover. You and Seonghwa sat beside each other, laughing so hard your stomachs hurt.

"I'm hungry." Seonghwa stated.

"You're always hungry." You snorted, making him shove your shoulder. But you did get up with him, going to the umbrella where your things were to find snacks.

"Oh, Yunho says the kitchen is empty so we have to go get food at the nearby supermarket for meals and all that." You informed.

"Sure. Wanna wash off and go now?" Seonghwa asked, emptying the small bag of pretzels into his mouth.

"Okay." You grabbed your things and stood up to rinse off so you wouldn't bring sand into the house and your room. You went back to the house with Seonghwa and separated to shower.

'Going with Hwa to buy groceries for the house. I'll see you later. Love you! - (y/n)'

You sent Yunho a text as you jumped into one of the vans with Seonghwa. He plugged his phone in to play music while you drove.

"This should be it. Let's see what they have and get food for the meals. We can always come back for fresh vegetables instead of buy them to store." You said, parking the van. Seonghwa hummed and you walked to the store together. He pushed the cart while you looked at the produce.

"We should get the staples first." He adviced. You got salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, red pepper paste, bean paste, zucchinis, garlic, onions, a few types of kimchi, peppers and tofu.

"We'll do barbecue for one of the night's right?" You asked. He nodded and you went to the meat counter to order from the butcher.

"Hwa, there's something I need to discuss with you. I've talked to Jongho about this-"

"It's about our contracts almost finishing, right?" He cut you off with a small, knowing smile as he leaned against the cart while you both waited for the butcher.

"Yeah..." You nodded slowly.

"I figured, considering we are celebrating a year since the restaurant opened, it also means our contracts are expiring." He shrugged.

"Right... Do you have a plan or inkling of what your decision is? And when I say your plan, I mean, regardless of what my plan is and what I plan to do." You quickly clarified. Seonghwa threw his head back with laughter at your words.

"You always feel guilty when we say we'll stick with you." Seonghwa chuckled, patting your head.

"Because right now, I don't know what I want to do or what I should do. By now, I would have moved on to another restaurant. But I also didn't think I would be dating the owner." You sighed.

"Whether you stay on or not, it wouldn't change your relationship with Yunho, you know that." He said.

"Yeah, that's what Jongho said. But... I don't know..."

"But you like change, that's why you go to different restaurants after your contracts end." Seonghwa pointed out. You thanked the butcher and put the meat in the cart.

"But Yunho's one of the things that I want to keep constant. I don't want change in that aspect." You shrugged.

"Ah, I don't know. I know Yunho would want me to do what's best for my career but... there's this underlying... I don't even know what it is... guilt?" You groaned in frustration while Seonghwa put soy sauce in the cart. He reached out to hold your hand, squeezing it reassuringly, a soft smile on his face.

"I'll stick with you. No matter where you go. And no, that's not to burden you or to make you think about my 'future' as a chef. I'm supporting you." He leaned down to tell you.

"You're just like Jongho. You all have such amazing skills that will get you places, you shouldn't have to stick with me." You said.

"But we want to stick with you. It's how we've learnt and picked up these skills." Seonghwa shrugged.

"And that's another same thing Jongho said to me." You laughed, grabbing some random snacks, especially a few bags of Yunho's favourite potato chips.

"There they are!" The two of you turned to see Wooyoung standing at the end of the aisle, pointing at the two of you.

"(y/n)!" Yunho had the brightest smile on his face, running over to you excited.

"Y-Yun!" You yelped. It was like a giant golden retriever galloping to a kitten. He nearly knocked you over, his arms wrapped around you as he squeezed you to his chest. Your winces were muffled against him as he lifted you up, laughing all the way.

"Yun! I can't breathe! And we saw each other an hour ago! You're acting like we haven't seen each other in years." You slapped his shoulder to let you go.

"But I still missed you." He whimpered. You laughed, he was always so adorable with his mannerisms.

"Alright, now where were we?" He asked, hooking arms with you and mindlessly marching down the shopping aisle with you.

"I got the most important thing!" Wooyoung rushed over with his own cart, filled with different kinds of alcohol, mainly different flavours of fruit soju.

"Woo! That's way too much alcohol!" Seonghwa scolded.

"It's fine, hyung. We'll probably finish half of this by tonight." Wooyoung waved the older off.

"Half?! No way, I'm not dealing with any of your drunk selves tonight." Your eyes widened at his declaration. Shaking your head, you ignored Wooyoung and continued getting the rest of what you needed. Yunho melted seeing how you've already planned to buy him so many packs of his favourite snacks.

"Bacon, eggs, cheese, milk... Sausages... We need to get bread too." You said, putting multiple packs of bacon into the cart. Yunho ran to get a few loaves of bread for you.

"Are we good?" You asked. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yunho looked over the cart one last time.

"We're good. Let's head back." Seonghwa pushed all of you towards the cashiers.

"You carry this. We'll carry the rest." Wooyoung cooed and patted your head, giving you the small box with all the chips instead, which practically weighed nothing.

"I can carry more, you know?" You raised an eyebrow.

"We can manage. Don't want you getting injured, sweetheart." Seonghwa said. You gave him a flat look.

"We got it, love. Let's go." Yunho smiled, walking beside you, carrying all the stuff. You went out to the two vans and unloaded all the groceries that you bought, which was a lot since it was food and drinks for 9 people.

"Wanna be my passenger princess?" You asked Yunho. He blinked in surprise at your question, pointing at himself in confusion. You nodded your head.

"Sure. Are you buying me dinner first?" He playfully flirted with you, batting his eyelashes.

"Yeah. Mcdonalds drive thru good?" You scoffed, opening the door for him to get into the passenger seat.

"Usually Mingi is the princess but I don't mind being your princess." He giggled while you get into the driver's seat. You laughed at how silly he was.

"Are the others still at the beach?" You asked.

"Not sure. When I noticed you were gone, I went to look for you and jumped into Wooyoung's van." He shrugged.

"Well, puppies do get separation anxiety." You pointed out, reaching over to pat his thigh. He turned his head to glare at you while you smugly smiled to yourself. Any chance to tease Yunho's likeness to a golden retriever puppy and to see his reaction to it. You parked next to Wooyoung and opened the trunk.

"My brain's already in holiday mood because I am still sleepy." You yawned, carrying the box to the house. Hongjoong opened the door for you all of you.

"Here, let me." Jongho, of course, relieved you of what you were carrying first, even if it was the lightest out of all the bags.

"Go take another nap, love." Yunho said, pressing his body to your side and kissing the top of your head.

"I'm fine, I should help prepare for dinner." You leaned against his chest. Yunho continued to plant kisses on your head and you tried to escape the grip he had on your waist.

"Yunho!" You squealed.

"Ugh alright, we get it. We're single!" Mingi groaned, shaking his head at the two of you. You and Yunho simulatenously stuck your tongues out at him. You patted Yunho on the hip and went to the kitchen to help your crew prepare for dinner.

"We'll do some marinated meat. The rest is plain grill." Seonghwa told you as you washed your hands.

"We can help with the grilling later!" San said from the couch.

"Wait, wait, wait. Before we start on this. I'm declaring that the party starts right now." Wooyoung said, placing 4 shot glasses on the table. He opened a bottle of soju and handed them out.

"Uh oh, this looks like a bad idea." Jongho laughed but still clinked glasses with the rest of you before taking the shot.

"I'll make sure you get to bed later, love." Yunho chuckled, looking on in amusement.

"I hope we at least make it to grilling the actual food and eating it." You shook your head, beginning to pour the ingredients for the bulgogi into a bowl before adding the beef.

"Beef bulgogi done. Are we doing spicy pork belly?" You asked. Seonghwa nodded his head, sliding the gochujang over to you. After making the spicy marinade for the pork belly, you taught Yeosang and Hongjong how to to de-vein the shrimp. Yunho and San were outside on the deck, starting the grill.

"Rice is cooking. Cover and fridge these?" Mingi pointed to the bowls with the marinating meats.

"Yes, please." You smiled, going to wash your hands. After that, you helped prepare the vegetables to be grilled. Wooyoung made the bean paste stew.

"Grill is up and ready for the meats." Yunho came back to your side. This was looking to be a great vacation.

~

Series masterlist

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop series #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez series #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #yunho ateez #yunho #yunho scenarios #yunho series #yunho x reader #yunho x you #yunho x y/n #jeong yunho #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho series #jeong yunho x reader

[yanderestarangel]

Will there possibly be any more Tio Miguel O’Hara au???

𝐌𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 ┆ 𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 - 𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘

꒰∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ ── Hi guys, I remembered I have a blog, hehe:3

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ "Before you, silence and emptiness for me were like an open, painful wound that stained my clothes a calloused, uncomfortable red. But with you, silence became just a space to be filled with your laughter and ethereal presence. My thoughts turn to you, my sweet nephew, loose and deliberate... I really shouldn't feel this way, but you don't know how much it affects me just by you being you." - 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: 𝓽𝓲𝓸 𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓵.

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

➜ This AU will probably become a fic with non-linear chapters, that is, I will post in non-chronological order of the canonical events that happened. [ There will be several alt. routes and you can suggest more ideas about this AU. ]

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

★☆ Notes: This is a work of dark romance/content, please do not read if you are a sensitive person, I am not romanticizing abuse or abusive relationships, this is just fiction.

♡ ┆ TW: written in the form of a poem, corruption, step!incest, dark romance, ftm reader, abusive relationship, mourning, dumbfication, manipulation, age gap, eat out, creampie, sex without a condom, dub con, afab anatomy

You weren't so naive as to not notice your Tio's lascivious gaze on your body ─ especially when you wore short, white dresses on hot days, your skin shone with a thin layer of sweat while your curves were otherwise hidden by thicker fabrics and dense spaces were exposed to the world and the cowboy's dark eyes.

The same lips that kissed you so innocently one day, held the hot tongue that would bring your ruin filled with lust. He had a negligent look, a harsh air, he was the same man who had made you taste the fruit of forbidden desire ─ far from everything and everyone, you two did not share the innocent courtship of being just a nephew and uncle... But before for you to stop like a whore, with your legs open for someone you swore would never feel anything... It hadn't started like that.

Desire, like all things in the world, had to have an origin, guidance and explanation ── everything could have started with the cruel grief of losing the wife that Miguel loved so much, the woman's name was not even uttered by his mouth, the same painful memory of lost nights of empty promises cut by the tragic and sharp scythe of death and destiny. The tanned-skinned man spent nights questioning the direction of his life and the classic question: "why me?".

Without an answer however, he sank even deeper into his own mind, the emptiness of his home now without a wife and the future children that were idealized by both of them had not come to fruition.

A foolish, lost and purposeless man was what he was.

So, just as the devil tries to make sin, he had finally found something that filled the void that was once held in his hard and dirty soul ── you. He tried to repress these feelings, it wasn't love, it wasn't a pure and polished love, it was a corrupted feeling of possession and obsession ─ he wanted to control your life, control you and make you his forever, trap you somewhere where you would stay safe from the dangers of the dirty world where they lived; but he himself was this dirt.

Then, slowly he began to enter your life even more like a parasite implanting the dirty thoughts you would later have about him. Taking you away from your family and manipulating everything and everyone into believing that he was the best person to take care of you ─ after all, he was just a concerned Tio... Or not?

Like a waltz with the devil, it all began that hot summer night with a dance ─ without protests and murmurs of complaints you followed him to an isolated place where your family's celebration was taking place that night, the warm orange light coming from the old tile ceiling warmed your cheeks and made you blush even more under the brunette's deep gaze.

Miguel watched as you moved to the music, his gaze mesmerized by the fluidity of your movements. A soft smile graced his lips as he took in the sight before him- the youthful vigor and elegance you possessed. He couldn’t help but be drawn to you, even if it sometimes stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within him.

He wasn't just your tio, was he? No more, if he ever was to begin. His large hand caressed his waist, gently but firmly gripping the fabric of your blouse soft under his touch. His thumb brushed against his back, effortlessly guiding you through the dance.

"My precious angel", he murmured, his voice practically low. "You look like a dream, like a celestial being that has somehow landed among us mortals. It makes me want to take that dream and hold on to it forever."

He brought you closer, as if he was going to devour you ─ He moved like a predator, he looked at you like a predator... He was a predator.

Tio Miguel's lips traced a burning path along the sensitive skin of your neck, each kiss leaving a trail of heat as his hands slid down and squeezed your ass possessively. His breath was hot against your skin, a mix of whiskey and desire that sent shivers down your spine. His moans were hoarse, filled with a primal hunger.

He pulled back slightly, dark eyes ablaze with lust, his gaze falling to your chest, where your breasts strained against the fabric of your blouse. The hunger in his eyes was almost palpable, tacit and obscure, there was no point in running and maybe you didn't even want to escape, it was like a tempting trap that would hurt you deliciously.

"Mi prince," he rasped, his voice rough with need. "You're so beautiful. So fuckin' beautiful."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound dark and predatory, as he grabbed your waist with one hand and pressed you against him. His hardness nudging between your legs, making you aware of his desire for you.

"Let's go somewhere more private, mi vida. It's time to show you just how much I want you." His lips crushed against yours, the intensity of your kiss staggering. His tongue thrust into your mouth, tangling with yours, the taste of whiskey and raw desire overwhelming. His hands moved with purpose, tugging at your clothes, urgently trying to rid you of any barriers between you both. He nibbled gently at your lips, pulling back to whisper against your mouth.

"Don't fight me, mi chico guapo. We both know you want this." With a low growl, he pulled you close once more, your lips crushing against his as your hands moved with purpose. His fingers expertly explored your soft body, teasing and coaxing you to the edge of pleasure. As his thumb brushed your clit, he swallowed your moans, his own desire heightened by the sacred taboo of his actions.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, my life. But I can't promise I will." Miguel said, but you both had the idea that that wasn't what was going to happen, especially when his tongue licked your pink flesh so well and made your legs tremble around his head ── his calloused and warm hands separated the flesh again softness of your thighs, making your breasts bounce and you tremble and whimper slyly for more.

Sin was good, so you two were condemned to a hell of unlimited pleasure and lust, without judgmental looks from others. Just you and your dear Tio Miguel. You moaned dirty, incoherent sentences, just looking for more friction with the other man's mouth, you were both moaning with need ─ you were both a mess of repressed desire and unthought-out consequences.

Your tio's hot tongue left your entrance, but before any scream of protest you saw him take off his pants quickly and lower them to his knees, exposing his muscular thighs and his thick cock with veins pulsing strongly, the smell of musk filled your nose as you felt the heat radiate from the older man’s member.

Uncle Miguel's cock pulsed as it passed your entrance, the swollen head teasing your clit before entering your comfortable, warm pussy. Every inch of their sensitive flesh reveled in the forbidden embrace, eagerly awaiting the moment they would finally become one. He growled softly, muscles tensing as he thrust inside, filling you with his thick erection.

Miguel's grip enveloped you like a vice, the sensation overwhelming you both-- his eyes locked with yours, the intensity of the connection incendiary, as he slowly advanced. His size made him feel huge, stretching you despite the ample lubrication. His moan of pleasure joined his groan of pain, a symphony of raw desire and urgency. His hands shook slightly as he thrust into you, the animalistic sounds of your union echoing in the small space.

Each thrust was deliberate, calculated to maximize his pleasure and his own desire. "Mi rei, are you okay?" he panted, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he continued to move. "Tell me if you need me to stop..."

Despite the agony of his position and his size, your nod was slow and deliberate. Your eyes never left his, each thrust bringing with it pleasure and submission. You could count how many thrusts there were by the weight of his balls that hit your soft ass, leaving a red, painful mark on your sensitive flesh.

"Good boy... Taking everything in that cute pussy..." He growled as the veins in his neck bulged with each effort of his hips to not stick it all in and feel the tip of his dick tirelessly kiss your uterus ── but he didn't I could scare you now, despite wanting to take out all the frustration and excitement accumulated in your cunt. Your breasts bounced as you cried with fat tears coming down from your orbs, pleasure, guilt and undefined feelings in your mind made you bite your lip and just enjoy the moment.

"Fuck, mi angelito," he groaned, his eyes locked on yours. "F-Fuck, I can't control myself... Mierda-"

His movements became erratic, his need overpowering him as he drove into you, chasing the peak of his release. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body slick with sweat as he thrust deeper, harder, his desire fueling the intensity of your coupling.

"Just like this, mi carinõ," he cried out, his voice hoarse with lust. "Just like this, with you..." His words are the catalyst for your own release, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, wracking your body with pleasurable contractions that milk him of his release.

Miguel follows suit, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you with his warm, pearly essence, marking you as his once again. He collapses on top of you, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding, both spent from the intensity.

"I don't deserve you, boy, but I need you."

#yanderestarangel #afab reader #tw smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x male reader #tio miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x ftm reader #ftm reader #ftm!reader #ftm smut #ftm ns/fw #trans nsft #miguel o'hara x male reader smut #miguel ohara smut #yandere miguel ohara #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara headcanon #astv smut #astv miguel #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x ftm reader #male reader x male character

[ataleofcrowns]

Just finally got around to playing the latest chapter,and Xelef's kiss!!! Oh my God🔥. Makes me regret your decision to stop at implied sexual content because you're a very good writer, though I understand how hard the coding would be and that you have to do what's best for you. I love all your characters and can't wait for more with them❤️❤️.

Honestly, I really wish I could've stuck with having a nsfw version!! But yeah, as is, it's just too much coding to get into.

I have been flirting with the idea of releasing standalone nsfw scenes for each LI as snippets on my Patreon though, so that I can work on it at my own pace and minimize the amount of coding involved, but I don't know when/if I'll ever get around to doing that. I'll keep you posted!!

Glad you enjoyed the kiss scene though, lots more spicy moments like that to come for X and the other LIs 🤭

#ask #anonymous #i had so much fun with that in ch11 #i was like FINALLY i can dig into the *romance* romance 😈

[megamindsecretlair]

Be My Little Darling - Interlude

Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. ANGST. There's ANGST. Mentions of grief, violence and negative self talk. Soft Loki.

Summary: Loki is the exclusive owner of the hottest club in New Asgard. Dubbed the Nine Realms, each of the nine rooms represent a different realm. You are his second in command, working the floors and ensuring everyone is having fun. An attack on the club affects everyone, you most of all. Loki wrangles with his own demons in search of you.

Word Count: 3,511k

Masterlist

A/N: Whew! Sorry for the long wait, but I couldn't get the thought of his POV out of my head before moving on to an attack plan. This week's been shitty and this definitely helped me! The care and feeding of your favorite artists starts with a comment or reblog!

Taglist: @cantstayawaycani @braverthanthenewworld @monaeesstuff @chaos-4baby @dayjlovesromance @soft-persephone @mybonafidefeelings @nerdieforpedro @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @foxherder @itzgabz22 @iv0rysoap @amethyst09 @ciaqui @harmshake @nworbaij @judymfmoody @abcdestinyyyy

Loki

“You…bastard,” you sighed.

“I don’t know how else to be,” he said. 

Loki knew he went too far this time. He usually liked to toy with you, pushing your boundaries to see how far he could go before you truly snapped. He knew he walked a fine line but he had to know. Some deep part of him had to know where your line was. Where he couldn’t cross. 

You yanked your wrist out of his grasp, panting with unreleased gasps. He wanted you to let loose. He wanted you to yell and scream and rage at him. It was all he’d ever known and he wanted to see what it would take for you to break. 

“We promised no lies between us. And if you can’t give me that Loki, you can’t have me.”

He’d never heard you sound so…defeated. Angry sure, frustrated definitely, but defeated? That word didn’t belong in the same sentence as you. You refused to look at him so Loki opened his mouth, ready to fall to his knees and tell you how sorry he was. Words would never do. They were inadequate. 

Ideas flew through his mind on the right way to make up for the fucked up game of cat and mouse he played with you. He only ever wanted you to love him, but love wasn’t easy. Love was snide remarks and hiding in the shadows. Love was cruel secrets. He didn’t want that with you.

The blasted screaming started. Your eyes widened and you tore off down the hallway towards the sound. Loki clenched his fists and ran after you. He was going to strangle that damn saboteur if it was the last thing he did. The fiend had caused too much pain and misery. It was a wonder he still had a club left standing. 

The screams came from the Helheim room, thick black smoke rolling out of it in waves. Loki’s employees and customers ran screaming from the room. Blood-curdling screams that would make a lesser man wet himself. 

You attempted to enter but Loki held you back. “I don’t like the way this looks,” he said. He stared at the thick fog. It was almost too thick. Man-made. Or perhaps magically inclined. He didn’t want you anywhere near it.

You only turned liquid eyes to him, constructed two batons, and rushed inside. “Darling!”

Fear. Loki was not unaccustomed to fear. He’d been raised and humbled by it. There had been an ever present pressure in his chest as he grew up in the shadow of Thor and the bastard son of Odin. He felt it often whenever he came so close to death he could kiss its lips. Thanos was the latest harbinger of it and Loki didn’t think he’d survive it.

He was wrong. This, he couldn’t survive. The moment you were swallowed up into the fog, an icy hand slipped around his heart and he thought he’d collapse from the strain. Getting to you was more important, his life be damned.

He rushed in right after you and it felt like slamming into a wall of slimy muck. He couldn’t see two inches from his nose, let alone determine where you were in this mess. The fog seeped everywhere. Up his nose, in his eyes, and in his mouth. He gagged on the foul taste.

“Sweetie! Baby!” Loki turned to the sound of your voice, but he couldn’t pinpoint where you were. 

“Darling!” Loki barreled forward in the room, not caring what he ran into or who he ran over. He needed to know that you were okay. He couldn’t allow the last words you ever spoke to him be that he couldn’t have you. He couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d spend every waking moment taking back what he did if it just meant that you’d be safe. 

“Call out!” 

Loki heard your voice coming from the right side of the room. Problem was, he didn’t know how close or how far you were away. 

Panic edged its way into his consciousness as he moved forward. “Call out!” You cried out again, but you sounded fainter. Far away. 

“Darling!” Loki called. 

“Loki!” Was that fear he heard in your voice? Loki threw out a beam of green light to combat the fog. It didn’t penetrate it in the slightest. 

A curl of laughter made him whip around to face more black fog. He tried again and again to shine the green light and hoped to find his way to you. Your name fell from Loki’s lips as he tried tricks up his sleeve to clear away the fog. Nothing worked.

“Please,” Loki whispered. He wasn’t one for prayer. He had no use for foolish words carried on the wind for Odin to find. As his heart began to crack into two, he stopped moving briefly to cast his eyes upwards.

“Frigga…Mother, help her,” he pleaded. He didn’t know if his words were welcome in Valhalla. He’d likely never see it. But you…you would be celebrated there. A true warrior to your core. And today was not the day that you were taken from him. He didn’t care if he didn’t deserve you. He’d make sure you were safe. 

“Darling!” Loki yelled.

“Loki!” You echoed. Where were you? 

Loki’s panicked gasps only ensured that more of the thick fog entered his system. He began to feel fuzzy around the edges, like he drank tainted meade and couldn’t keep his wits about him. 

There was a clanging crash of chairs and metal off in the distance. Loki turned towards the sound but there was nothing to see. He didn’t know where it came from. 

“Is this all the attention I’m worth, Loki?”

Dread stopped Loki’s attempts at flashing his green light. That voice wasn’t right, but the inflection. The tone. Loki looked around, eyes darting for any glimpse of you. He just needed one. One to confirm that you were alright. 

“I leave you clues to know who I am and yet all you concern yourself with is your pet?” 

“No,” Loki whispered. “Why the games? Why not reveal yourself?” Loki couldn’t be sure but he thought he saw pinpricks of light at a good distance from him. 

“I want to see the look on your face when you figure it out. Until then, the fun must continue. But I will not be ignored!” The voices sounded distorted, there was definitely more than one. 

“Darling,” Loki breathed. A rush of fear and panic kept Loki rooted to the spot. There were only two other people in the universe who could conjure something like this. Who could throw voices, cast illusions. His mother and Enchantress. 

Loki refused to speak her name, refused to give voice to his doubts. Let her have her fun at the moment. Now it all clicked into place. Parlor tricks. Mean pranks. Things designed to irritate, confuse, and leave someone feeling unsettled. He taught her that. He should have known.

Loki kept his features schooled. He didn’t know how much she could see or hear at the moment. 

“Sweetie!” 

Loki moved towards the sound of your voice. He scrambled through the fog, getting absolutely nowhere. Chortling laughter echoed in the wide room, poking fun at his desperate attempts to reach you. It felt like he was swimming upstream and he’d never reach you.

What if he didn’t? What if you succumbed to your fear? He didn’t even know what you were most afraid of. You’d kept that part to yourself. And as much as he wanted to crack you open and learn all your secrets, he wanted your trust more.

Too many unresolved things were between you. You weren’t allowed to leave him. Weren’t allowed to haul off and get kidnapped, or worse, killed by Enchantress before he had a chance to repent. To surrender to your mercy. He had been a complete ass to you. That wasn’t the way he wanted to treat you. That wasn’t the way he wanted you to know him. That wasn’t the way he wanted to treat the love of his life. 

You screamed and Loki’s jaw went slack. He rushed forward, a clawing need burning through his legs to reach you before anything bad happened to you. As if the fog didn’t exist, it parted revealing you standing in the middle of the room faced away from him. 

“Darling!” Loki rushed forward, turning you by the shoulders. You turned towards him with a pained expression, burning twins of emerald in your eyes. Not Darling.

“It should have been you,” you said. 

Loki knew it was an illusion. A damn convincing one. Your eyes turned back to its original color and you rubbed your head as if coming out of a trance. He didn’t want to trust it. But what if? What if?

Loki rubbed your arms. You felt real enough. But he’d also been inside the fog long enough to become affected by it. Seeing and feeling things that weren’t there. It had been one of the first lessons he taught Enchantress. One of the first things he made sure she knew how to wield like a weapon. 

“Darling?” 

“Loki? Please, I’m scared.” Your voice was so small. So timid. He couldn’t trust it. But he wanted to. Gods he wanted to. 

“No, no, no, I’m sorry!” You screamed. 

Loki looked at the figure before him that was distinctly not you. You smiled as if you had been found out, shrugging that it was no big deal that you got caught. 

“Darling!” Loki screamed. The figure in front of him stepped closer and ran a knife through his stomach. There was pain sure but…illusion. Had to be. He’d been stabbed enough times to know the difference between an illusion and a real knife. Didn’t mean it didn’t really fucking hurt though.

The smoke obscured the figure that looked like you and Loki fell to his knees. He couldn’t reach you. The realization made his chest hurt and his eyes burn. He couldn’t save you from this. Save you from her.

All this time, Enchantress had been watching Loki and the way he was with you. The way he looked forward to seeing you every day. He replayed the image of you on his doorstep, confident in nothing but a coat to cover your delicious body. The way you surrendered beneath him.

“Please,” Loki whispered. He’d give anything, do anything, be anything if it meant that he could get you out of here unscathed. 

“You’re a disappointment, Loki. Nothing but an Asgardian child’s nightmare,” Odin’s distinct voice rang throughout the room. 

Loki flipped his head back to look his father in the eye. He told himself that it was another trick. But gods…he looked the exact same. Down to his flowing white hair. 

“I should have left you on that godforsaken ice planet and been rid of you. A boil on my house since the moment I brought you home,” Odin said. The smug bastard looked Loki up and down with his one eye. 

Loki grinned, falling back on his usual sneering authority. “You can do better than that, Father.” 

“We need no longer speak, Brother,” Thor’s voice rang loud and clear as he stepped from the fog next to Odin. 

Loki’s grin faltered, but he kept up the pretense. He had to. He had to keep going. He couldn’t succumb to the mounting pressure in his chest that whispered for him to give up. To lay down. To stop fighting. 

Loki always had a strong sense of self-preservation. Growing up in the palace, he studied under his mother. The one person who didn’t look at him like he was a dark stain on the golden family. 

He always felt different. Odd. Whenever Odin spoke of becoming King of Asgard, he always knew that he was speaking more to Thor than to Loki. Always knew that when it came right down to it, Loki wasn’t even a thought. 

“There is no reason for us to speak as you can’t be trusted.” Loki looked into fake-Thor’s eyes. He was round and dumpy as he had been in the streets. As he had been since the fall of Thanos. It couldn’t be the real Thor and yet…

“Why do you continue to visit, Brother, knowing that I want nothing to do with you? If it wasn’t for you and your selfishness, Thanos wouldn’t have gotten hold of the Tesseract. You brought this blight upon us,” Thor spat at him.

The pain in his chest worsened. He knew he wasn’t bleeding out, but what good were thoughts when the physical manifestation was eating him from the inside out? 

He longed to see you. To hear you laugh. Hear you call him all manner of names under the sun. He yearned to see you beneath him, wrapped up in him, and looking at him with something other than disdain. Like he meant something. 

“I didn’t know,” Loki responded. The weight was too great. It’d be so easy for Loki to lie down. To not take anymore. These verisimilitudes were damn convincing. They crowded Loki as he bent at the waist, head nearly touching the floor. 

He didn’t want to give Enchantress anymore ammunition against him. But there was no use. Frigga appeared next and folded her arms. A cruel smile split her lips. 

“Oh, Loki. Did you really think I’d help your little whore of a pet?” 

“Stop this, at once!” Loki’s voice broke as he looked away from the venom in his mother’s eyes. “Mother, please.” 

Reality and fantasy blended in his head. He knew what was true and yet the illusions of his family began spewing all manner of things he thought about himself over the years. He was useless, worthless, a trickster, couldn’t be trusted. Their words echoed and meshed together. A ringing cacophony of negative words thrown at him. 

“No!” 

Your voice was like a single ray of sunshine in the bleak room. You sounded like how he felt. Afraid. Desolate. He had to get to you. If nothing else, he needed you to be safe.

“That’s the problem with trying to use this trick on me. There’s nothing you can say that I don’t already tell myself,” Loki said to the visages of his family. His broken, tortured, screwed up family.

They all sneered at him. “Yes, we know you’re oh so powerful. But are you powerful enough to save your pet?” Frigga leaned close and ran her hand down Loki’s face. She even got his mother’s scent nearly so. 

“Better hurry,” Frigga whispered.

“No, no, no, I’m sorry!” You screamed.

Loki scrambled to his feet and ran after your screaming voice. You had to be locked in some sort of nightmare. Trapped by your own demons. That’s what the spell did. Cracked open your skull and read your thoughts like an open book. It laid bare all the admonishing negative self talk. All the things people punished themselves for.

It didn’t work half as well on Loki because he already did that on a daily basis. You, however, you sweet, beautiful woman pushed those thoughts to the background. Tried to bury them deep. But your grief was loud.

Gods, you sounded like a wounded animal. Clawing and screaming at nothing. His heart successfully cracked down the middle and shattered within his chest as seeing the confusion and fear on your face. 

“Darling, Darling,” Loki said, shaking you gently to wake you from the nightmare. Gods, what must you see at the moment? What horrible torment did you endure day after day on top of what he had planned?

Loki flipped you over. You blinked at him, swimming up from whatever dark place you were in. Recognition dawned in your eyes before you gasped, pointing behind him. “Loki, look out!” You yelled. 

“No! No! No! Not him! Take me!” You yelled with a raw, singed throat. You fought with Loki, fought to climb to your knees. 

“Darling, gods,” Loki breathed. He tried to hug you or press you to his chest. You fought him. You were so drained, your hits barely landed. You were spent, strength depleted. And still you fought some invisible beast.

“Take me! Take me! Take me!” You said, over and over.

Pain laced through Loki’s heart. Did you really think…? Did you really believe that he would allow you to sacrifice yourself for the likes of him? 

You suddenly screamed, clutching your head like it was about to burst. Loki called your name, repeating it over and over. He wasn’t strong enough to break the spell. He wasn’t strong enough to lure you out of the nightmare and show you that everything was okay. 

You finally passed out to the sound of him calling your name again and again.

Loki moved you to his office where he could keep a close eye on you. He didn’t want to risk bringing you back to his place. He demanded a doctor be located and brought to his office. He left the clean up to Honey and some of the other staff who weren’t affected by the fog. Not like the ones who were hit full force.

All night, people came in and out to check on you until Loki finally closed the door, stating that you needed to rest. Your face was scrunched in pain in sleep and Loki finally sat vigil by your side.

He clasped your hand in his, bringing your cold hand to his lips and pressing soft kisses there. Alone, with no one to overhear, Loki finally let the tears fall. All the pent up, dire emotions that swam in his head and chest, he let loose with a string of tears running down his face.

“Mother, if you still want to hear from me, please don’t punish her. Don’t take her away from me. Bring her back. Return her to me and I will spend the rest of my days earning her love. Please, Mother,” Loki prayed. 

You woke up a few times in the night, waking long enough to check on the club. When you woke up for good and confessed your love to him, Loki was so shocked he didn’t know what to do. He knew he needed you to know how he felt though. 

He expected many things, but a night of confession wasn’t it. He expected you to hate him, loathe him, cast him out from your presence. Instead, you opened yourself to him and trusted him with your secrets. He did the same in kind.

“For a night of confessions, I have one more.” He took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how well you’d take this news on top of everything you had been through tonight. But you were tough. His brave Darling. You rubbed his hand and looked at him. 

“I know who the saboteur is now. Enchantress. She…when the loneliness grew too much for me to bear, I thought I’d fashion myself a companion. I taught her how to use magic like how my mother showed me. But she thirsted for power, not companionship. And now she’s rightfully back, taking her hatred out on me for what I did to her.” 

“Fuck that. She’s batshit crazy and she’s gonna hear from me about that little stunt she pulled,” you said. Fire burned in your eyes and Loki smiled, loved seeing the spark return. It was a damned good sight better than you passed out on the couch.

“This is a demon from my past, Darling. I will take care of her,” Loki said. Or die trying. But as long as you were safe, Loki could finally enter Hel and begin his long, cursed life anew. 

“I know that look, Loki. We can fight her together,” you said.

“You nearly died from shock, Darling!” Loki didn’t mean to yell, but now that you were awake he could feel all of his worrying and frustration flood his system. He nearly lost you. The doctor declared that one minute longer and your heart would have given out. 

“If you go, I go,” you said, your face set in a determined grimace.

Loki looked at you. He rubbed his face and sighed. He didn’t want to argue this point. He didn’t want to put any extra strain on you.

“For tonight, Darling, can we argue about this in the morning? I just want to feel that you’re safe,” he confessed softly.

You smiled, nodded, and opened your arms. There wasn’t a whole lot of room on the couch for you both, but Loki was thin. He slid right in beside you and held you close. Felt your heart thumping beneath your chest. Felt the rhythm of your breathing. The soft fan of your breath across his neck.

“Sleep, Darling. I’ll protect you,” he said. He idly rubbed your back until your breathing evened out. He thought you already passed out, so when you murmured, he almost didn’t catch it.

“I’ll protect you too.”

WHEW! Always more Loki to love!

Masterlist | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Loki Files #Loki x Black!reader #Loki x Black reader #x Black reader #Loki x Fem!reader #Loki x Fem reader #x Fem reader #Loki x plus size reader #Loki fanfic #Loki fan fic #Loki fanfiction #Loki fan fiction #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #soft Loki

[claymorexpunisher]

I'll Shut You Up (Ch. 4/?) (18+ Fic)

Pairing(s): Rhea Ripley/Fem. Reader

Disclaimer: This is NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately and if you still choose to click and read, do so at your own discretion. ALWAYS make sure to discuss everything prior to engaging in ANY kinks… Thank you for the love always and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: It’s pretty well known that Rhea and Fem. Reader can’t stand one another. Reader thinks Rhea’s way cockier than she should be and Rhea thinks as highly about Reader as much as she thinks about the dirt at the bottom of her boot. Well… so they say, at least. A packed hotel mishap forces them to bunk together, and Rhea presses her luck by running her mouth.

Fic Tag(s): 18+, enemies to hatefucking to lovers, forced proximity, overbooked hotel, WM weekend, Bottom Sub!Rhea, Dom Top!Reader, bratty!Rhea, angst, fluff, a little bit of oral (Rhea receiving) anal play/penetration, size difference, strap-on, nipple play, semi-public play, light humiliation, hair-pulling, spit for lube (I KNOWWW IM SORRY), begging, spanking, biting, slapping, choking.)

Chapter Word Count: 1,518

Prev. Chapter

Someone had apparently called down to hotel security that night.

And with the sounds that came out from our hotel room- from Rhea especially, who decided that she just couldn’t keep quiet- I couldn’t really blame whoever had called.

I could only assume that to the average person it had probably sounded as if someone were being attacked, or worse.

Rhea and I had tried to put our thinking caps on, and we managed to soothe their concerns.

However, Rhea got the bright idea to turn to the adult channels on tv as soon as we looked a bit more presentable, leaving on the tv, and apologizing profusely to the hotel security staff after she sent a wicked smirk my way.

And she told them that she and her girlfriend- I couldn’t help but do a bit of a double-take as that expression fell from her lips- wanted to just decompress after a long day’s work and seeing as we are faced with screaming crowds pretty much every night, and we “didn’t really register the tv’s noise level.”

For a split second I had forgotten who held all the control throughout the night, and I gave the security staff who were also slightly and visibly uncomfortable, a strained smile and another apology as I tried to discretely cover the screen with my body as much as I could, despite them having already seen it and had definitely seen the appropriately (or inappropriately, actually) paused footage of a voluptuous and heavily tatted and very naked woman yelling at another.

Rhea had gotten a good kick out of all of it, but of course I had to punish her despite her saving our asses anyway.

She was way too proud about making me flustered all over again and we couldn’t have that. Now, could we?

My embarrassment didn’t last very long, though, and the second we were alone, and I let her have her bit of laughter at my expense and we were sure the security staff were all gone, we picked up right where we left off.

Of course, this time, as much as I loved hearing her, I did make sure that a gag was secured over Rhea’s mouth.

It wasn’t 100% fool proof, but it worked good enough.

~~

The morning after the night Rhea had spent together, I caught her still sleeping soundly next to me, lying on her stomach with one arm tucked against her and the other over the pillow her head.

Her black locks cascaded around her face, and I forcefully resisted the urge to move the locks away to reveal more of the face I secretly thought was absolutely stunning.

She looked more peaceful than ever, with the sheets draped around her waist. Her strong and toned back was fully exposed and my eyes roamed hungrily, marveling at every perfectly crafted and inked muscle, and descending down towards the equally toned sliver of exposed thigh. I had left my mark on certain parts of her body and my mind retraced how I had made every single one.

As my fingers once again resisted the urge to reach out and touch her, memories I tried to repress came rushing back to me, causing my cheeks to burn, my pulse to race, and my pussy to throb with need as I thought of how pliant she had eventually become, looking at me with shining eyes as she finally gave some of herself to me.

Last night, I felt myself treading further and further into muddy waters and I swore that shining in her eyes, as I made her fall apart over and over again, was something intense.

I swore that underneath the mind-numbing arousal and hard-fought submission, was something akin to devotion… and that? That had been too much to digest, so I pushed it aside.

Thinking about that too hard would surely make me make incredibly bad decisions like, asking her to let bygones be bygones and asking her to be mine. Permanently.

No, I wasn’t gonna do that.

I was serious, however, about us owning at least that one part of her body that she chose to give to me, though.

Fucking Rhea and watching her come undone and watching that harsh and domineering exterior melt away could easily become addicting.

I knew that way deep in my gut but, I told myself that I wouldn’t let things get that far.

Still, as I continued to watch Rhea sleep, I could almost feel the texture of her Rhea’s skin, and the prominent cords of muscle underneath still on my fingertips and on ghosting on my lips.

I could almost hear every moan, every whimper… every yes or please ma’am.

I could hear the way her breath would hitch every time I touched a particularly sensitive part of her body or whenever my fingers tugged firmly on her hair.

I almost tasted every squeal as my palm rained down on her ass and my hips thrusted, and my mouth watered as I remembered how her body took e3verything I gave it, and how much she seemed to crave it as much as I did.

‘Goddammit...’ I mumbled to myself as I pinched the bridge of my nose, screaming at my brain to stop replaying last night like a never-ending movie.

Before I could allow myself to drown in my traitorous thoughts, though, Rhea slowly began to stir awake, looking adorably out of it as she stretched and then scanned her eyes around the hotel room, only to settle her stare upon me.

Luckily, I had already grabbed my phone for something to do and I let out a bored yawn that sounded awfully fake to my ears.

“Morning,” I said casually to her, now settling my eyes on her to see her watching me.

I felt my heart drop a little, even though I half expected to see that caged-animal stare back in her eyes as she watched me silently.

“Morning…” Rhea rasped out as she cleared her throat softly.

I hated the hesitation in her voice and in her eyes.

But unlike how keyed up I was last night, this morning I had decided that I had given her enough of a taste of my dominance for now.

At this point, she decided what happened here, and whether I liked it or not, I had to respect her decision.

Even if the thought of her not even wanting a more casual arrangement didn’t make my chest sting over the rejection I was anticipated.

Registering these sudden feelings after Rhea and I were at each other’s throats for so long felt like whiplash and it made me wanna crawl out of my skin as much as the awkwardness of the morning.

I cleared my throat as well and I ran my fingers through my bedhead, before I slid out of bed to get dressed.

Rhea’s eyes followed every move I made, and that same guarded stare never left her eyes, her body tense as a rock.

But I felt a thrill run throughout my body as I noticed the interest in her eyes as they roamed over my nude body, looking almost disappointed with every bit of fabric I put on.

“Uh…I have to head to the gym… hopefully it’s not packed full of people.” She spoke again in a carefully bland tone after she cleared her throat once more and she sat up, clutching the bedsheets against her torso.

My stomach dropped even further even as I nodded casually before I grabbed the keys to my rental car and put on my shoes.

“I figured. I’m gonna head out and grab breakfast.” I said. And before I could regret it, I asked, “I’m headed to Denny’s. Do you want me to grab you anything?”

Rhea paused her movements toward her luggage, the thin sheet still wrapped around her.

Not more than a second after I asked the question, she replied with a quick and hard-edged, “No.”

I chuckled at that, pretending that I was totally taking it personal, and I said, “Rhea, it’s just breakfast.”

A stormy expression crossed over Rhea’s features before she shrugged, and her features melted into a more sheepish expression.

“Sorry, um… Nah, it’s okay. I think I’ll just go out and grab something myself or order room service. I don’t know yet.” She said in a hurried tone as she began to speed up to get dressed, avoiding my eyes entirely.

I took the hint and I shrugged.

“Okay, then.”

At the diner, I ran into some of the locker room and since Rhea said she didn’t want anything, I chose to sit and eat with them.

Naturally we had all lost track of time, hanging out and enjoying some much-needed relaxation as we ate our breakfast.

I wouldn’t have thought anything about the hotel room still being empty when I returned sometime later since I figured Rhea takes a while doing her workout, had it not been for the fact that her bags and toiletries were gone too…

Rhea had run from me.

@theworldofotps @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @harmshake @mzv11 @letsgivethisonemoreshot @theundertakeriscoming @slutfortheeclaymore @auraravenora77 @niknakattack @thesamoanqueen @moonwolfdemonprincess21 @babiidee28 @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts @xndalynch @84reedsy @romanstheory @kianaleani @elefrog25-blog @motherknuckers @phantasmacabre @lxndonorris @girlnred @yo-yo89 @smile1318 @sassginaswanmills @exhaustedclown @aritannahrocks1300 @superlove167 @ayeeitsali @queencherryberry @truefant4sy @codyswhitebelt @blackmeetsworld @salirophiliac @kayfabebabe @rhea-the-eradicator @souleatermia @bittersweetastoria @domripley @wrestlingprincess80 @myluvrrhea @viper-nightmare

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x female reader #wwe fic #rhea ripley fan fiction #wwe fan fiction

[ekwolfwriter-blog]

WIP Zutara Challenge: Divine intervention

Man oh man, do I love this prompt. As I have a few fics that I guess fall under this. Most of them are posted in Ao3 is people are curious. I will be posting them at the end so no worries. But honestly anything with the spirits - at least how I consider it - divine intervention - and I have too many ideas for it

Such as one fic idea of the spirits allowing Katara to go back in time with all the memories but cannot physically touch people that she was close to as it could make them remember the horrible future - for angst.

A transformation fic that I have been sitting one - well two - where both Katara and Zuko get turned into animals and find out that the other loves them through the barrier of the lack of human ego getting in the way. (Katara being turned into a fox-snow leopard is also on the docket with Blue Spirit, which I will share in a bit). And a few other ideas like OC's coming in and helping out with the time line or changing it to make it make sense - if you know, you know.

And I also have some links for on going projects with spirit intervention and if people are curious about what I will be doing and going with it, please read and leave a comment!

First on the docket is my all time fav and an intro to an OC that I adore and is definitely one that helps with the story more times than I can count: Fortune Teller Rewrite

Next is one I have to work on, but it does have some spiritual intervention with transformation: Right Time Wrong Tea

Another one is my Forget Me Never fic with implications of spirit intervention.

And Lastly, my new project that will have lots of Divine intervention and spirit shenanigans is Ghost of a Waterbender (of which a new chapter will be posted soon)

As for the WIP challenge, here is a snippet of WIP where Katara unknowingly makes a deal with a spirit intervening for her (P.S. mention of alcohol):

Damasu took another sip of the sake that got brought as he seemed to think for a moment. “Well, it seems to me you already have an idea about what you want. But are conflicted because it does not match what others think or who they think you should be with.”

“Well, yes!” Katara snapped. “I know I should choose but I always had to choose for everything when we were traveling! I always had to care for people and make sure they were cared for. Final decisions on what we ate and did. And yet, never was it my choice completely. And even if I choose, I know people will get hurt and it will be my fault. And just once, I want something easy given to me.”

“Hmm,” Damasu smirked. “Sounds like a way to go, to have things given to you. Much like an animal that gets pulled around and does what it’s told. Is that what you want?”

“What?! No! No way, I will never be jerked around like that. I am not some prize that can be flaunted and told to obey on command.”

“And yet you feel like you are now?”

Katara realized what she said and bit her lip as she looked away from the strange man.

But Damasu only gave a mischievous grin. “From what I can see, you have a wild heart, and that is good. At least for you. You want to have your freedom to fight your own battles and prove yourself but at the same time, would like to know someone will be there for you. Protect you and love you for the powerful and beautiful woman you are, right?”

Katara did not face Damasu again, but she could not help but nod to his question.

Damasu smirked as he took another sip of his drink and poured some more for Katara. “Well, then I think I can help with that. A little wager if you will.”

Katara scoffed. “Oh, and what would this wager be?”

“I bet that the man that will fulfill your wish will be able to see you for who you are, even if you are… shall we say, not looking your best.”

“What? Would I look like I just woke up and have massive bed hair?” Katara asked with slurred words. All the drinks of the night were starting to get to her.

“Something like that,” Damasu said softly, then continued. “The catch is, you must stay that way until either of them figures out it is you. And only then will you be able to find the one that loves you with an act of true love. Either by words or actions. In this new look that is.”

Katara squinted at Damasu as she felt suspicious of him again. “What is in it for you, if this is a proper wager?”

Damasu smirked. “Even while becoming intoxicated, you are still sharp. I love that. And the only thing I want… is a good show.” He said with that continuous mischievous look in her eyes.

Katara chuckled from his answer as she was finding it hard to believe. “So let me get this straight, I will look a certain way. Unrecognizable to the world, and will stay that way until the one who loves me the most figures out that it is me and I get my answer, and all you want is to just watch?”

“Yup,” he answered as he gave her drink and he poured some for himself.

“No strings attach?” Katara grilled him.

Damasu smiled as he reached for Katara’s necklace and tapped it. “In honor of the water and moon spirits that watch over us, I swear. That is all I am offering.”

Katara looked down at his hand then at him. Katara’s vision was getting a bit blurry but while it might be the drinks talking, it did sound nice to have that option. She then reached for the drink and raised it to Damasu. “You have a deal then.”

Damasu smirked as he raised his glass and clinked it to hers. “A deal then,” he quietly cheered. They both took the drink and then Katara sighed. “I should get home.”

“Fair, after all, it will be a busy day tomorrow,” Damasu said as he got up.

“Will I see you tomorrow then?” Katara’s words slurred more as she was getting tired.

Damasu did not answer as he put down something on the bar then tapped Katara’s forehead. “You will see me very soon,” he whispered to her and left.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #katara x zuko #writing #zutara month 2024 #divine intervention #spirit interventions

[partially-controlled-chaos]

WIP Wednesday but it's actually Tuesday

I love the idea of a WIP Wednesday, but I'm also incapable of posting them on Wednesday for a variety of reasons. SO, with that being said, happy WIP Tuesday! I have another follow up WIP to the horny Halsin Indulgence fic I posted a few weeks back. I'm maybe 75% done with this so I'm hoping to have the full thing posted within the next week? Hopefully? As with the previous WIP, NSFW content is on the way. This one is very mild and borderline NSFW, but very suggestive content. The full chapter will be completely E/M rated! As always, not edited and subject to change later.

The shine of the leftover honey on Halsin’s forefinger caught your eye, tempting you to take a taste of it for yourself. You eyed the thick droplet of honey that threatened to drip onto the forest floor below, gently biting your lip as you tried to fight back the urge that had suddenly come over you. Unlike Halsin, you always had much less self control over your actions and frequently dove into impulsive thoughts with reckless abandon. With that in mind, you took Halsin’s hand in your own, eyeing the thick, amber colored syrup on his finger for a moment before sticking the entirety of his forefinger into your watering mouth.

They honey was sweet and thick against your tongue, a delightful treat that briefly alleviated the stress of day. Given just how sticky and fresh the honey was, you were unable to quickly clean Halsin’s finger of the substance. Your tongue wrapped around the tip of his finger, swirling the digit briefly before pressing the extremity to the roof of your mouth and suckling gently. Your eyes flicked upwards to meet Halsin’s, holding his stare as you diligently licked and sucked the honey from his finger teasingly slow. 

Halsin’s heart beat rapidly against his chest, pounding against the inside of his ribcage as he watched and felt every second of your tongue dancing across his skin. Your tongue was soft and wet, caressing every bit of skin you came across with a delicate touch. However, there was a bit of roughness from time to time, the feeling of your tastebuds prickled as you continued to lick. With your tongue pressing his finger to the roof of your mouth, you had created a deliciously tight suction around his finger, making it throb in tune with his steadily pounding heart. The suction was strong enough that even if he wanted to, Halsin would have had difficulty removing his finger from your mouth.

Halsin felt the all too familiar of tension of arousal forming in his shoulders and neck as his skin began to grow warm. The promise that you had made to each other for a secluded night away to indulge in each other had yet to come to fruition, something always interrupting the peaceful camp nights to prevent you from sneaking away, and you both were growing restless. You and Halsin had almost made it a game of seeing how worked up you could get the other, all with the hope of the following night to finally be the night where you could drop all responsibilities for a few hours and simply lose each other in kisses and caresses. 

Halsin was much better at the spoken teasings. His words were able to quickly make your heart flutter and your cheeks flush, leaving you longing for more of his praises and composed flirtations. You, on the other hand, were much more efficient at teasingly soft physical contact; a sweep brush of your shoulder against his bare arm as you walked you path towards Baldur’s Gate, your thigh just barely touching his own while sitting around the campfire, and even a lingering touch when you happened to brush hands with each other. This, on the other hand, was the most forward you’d been since you had both skipped stones together a few nights prior. You were growing impatient with waiting; you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

After you were certain his finger had been thoroughly cleaned of any remaining bits of honey, you slowly pulled your mouth from him, making sure that when he finally passed the tight ring of your lips there was a resounding pop. You looked over your work, making sure you were satisfied with the cleanliness you’d offered before letting his hand drop back to his side. He cocked his head at you with a look of disbelief, surprised at your boldness only a few meters from your campmates.

“What?” You asked playfully, “It would be a shame to let it go to waste.” You offered a coy smile to Halsin before turning on your heels, promptly making your way back to the main road to join your other companions for the march ahead, leaving the druid standing under the shade of the oak tree with a blush on his cheeks and a sudden tightness in his trousers. 

Tag List: @thoughts-of-bear ,@beardedladyqueen, @pixie-in-a-moonlantern, @ur-friendly-nbhd-cardassian, @ouranyaoi @galeofyourwaterdeep @mskinkyafro @jenn-majima

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #daddy halsin #halsin romance #halsin x reader #reader x halsin #halsin x gn reader #fanfic #fanfiction #wip #wip wednesday #current wip #bg3 fanfiction

[canmargesimpson]

Chapter 2:

Chapter 1

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☪ . :☆ﾟ. ───

April 30, 1996.

Eddie, who was at his studio, sat on his piano with some pens and papers, trying to figure out how the bridge of his new song should go. He spent hours, repeating over and over the melody but then stopping at the same part, since it felt like nothing could ever continue it. As if there was no follow up to the story he was writing, like if in the middle of the book the protagonist died and there was no more story at all. It frustrated him so much, he was scratching his head nervously, biting his nails and even smashing the piano tiles whenever he tried to even continue the song. Nothing seemed to work. So when his Motorola cell phone rang, he thanked god to be able to get away from the monster that has become his piano.

“Hello?”

“Eddie!” Steve’s voice called from the over side, in a quite excited way that grabbed the man's attention quickly

“Baby? Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?” he asked

“Lunch break” 

“Lunch break? But it's like 10 in the morning?”

“Eddie, it's 2… have you been in the studio all day?” the shift in steve’s voice knew that if he said yes the answer would bring him trouble

“No?”

“Eddie! I’ve told you it's not healthy to spend an entire morning locked in a room with only a piano and a guitar! Go eat something, or even just go to the bathroom”

Eddie huffed knowing that Steve hated the fact Eddie spent an entire day writing and not even eating, but everytime he was there, it felt like time moved faster somehow.

“I know, I'm sorry, I'm gonna grab my jacket now and leave to go eat something alright? Now what are you calling me for?” eddie asked as he stood up from the piano stool and walked to the the little table besides the door and grab his keys

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Steve’s disappointed and warning tone changed to a giddy one which turned Eddie's heart around “So remember I told you I was gonna talk to my colleague, Sarah, whose cousin works at the Orphanage? Well, i got in contact with the director of the place, and told me we could go next Friday at 4”

“Wait really?” eddie stopped his tracks as he walked out of the studio department 

“Yes!” he exclaimed “there are about 23 kids, the age ranges are form 2-15 year old”

“I'm not adopting a two year old human, sorry” Eddie laughed nervously. He still won't be completely in love with the idea of a kid in their house, but at least he could hold a 10 minute conversation with a 6 year old. And that was progress

“I know” Steve sighed a laugh “so i told her that probably a kid from 6-12, and that we don’t really have anything in mind”

“Wait” Eddie thanked God that there was no one else in that elevator with him at this moment “you told her about… us? Like… the fact that we…”

“Are a same sex marriage? Yes'' and with that eddie sighed loudly “ she told me that she has had a lot of queer parents adopting, so it's definitely not a problem, we just need to make sure we are suitable for taking care of a minor” 

“And how-”

“It's an interview. And before you panic, no, it's not about knowledge about children” another loud sigh came from eddie “it's about it we are… responsible and economically okay to take care of a child. Then they are coming to our house to make sure the kid is gonna live in a safe and decent house. It's just regular procedure”

“Wow'' Eddie smiled, quite shocked that this might be finally happening. They might be finally adopting a kid “and how long to like… get the kid”

The other line went dead. Eddie couldn't even hear Steve’s breathing. Just by this reaction, he knew the answer was not gonna be pleasant.

“Steve?”

“Umm…. they said about…. 6 to…. 18 months?”

“18 Months!?” Eddie exclaimed loudly “Steve!”

“I know!!” he whines back

“I'm gonna be gone! Tour starts in a year and- what if i’m not there? What if the child comes into the home, and i'm not there and then when i come home they hate me? What if something happens to them or me, and I never get to meet them! Steve-”

“Eddie i know! I just… We’ve been waiting for such a long time…. There is hope that maybe it could be less. They say that if it works perfectly, it can be at least 6 months”

“For me to leave in six months? Not to forget, this tour is long, and then i have to do interviews and shit I- steve…” Eddie breathed loudly “I don’t want you to do this alone, because you and I both know it sucks not having a parent around, and I'm letting that kid go through this. I don't wanna be like you dad! I don’t want to leave for over a year, and then just come around to say happy birthday or merry christmas and then leave again! And with the new album-”

“Eddie you would never be like my father you hear me? Never.” Steve sternly said as he sat up from his desk chair to look at the window to where the kids were playing football “I just… maybe… you should just… not release the album maybe?” Steve knew he was on thin ice now.

“Not- Are you crazy?! I’ve been working my ass off with Gareth for almost 2 years now! We can’t just postpone! This is super important for me Steven, I can't just drop my entire work for a kid!”

And the line went dead. In both ends, the men were holding the phones to their ear with eyes closed looking at the floor trying to somehow make this better. To somehow change the entire universe so they could be happy and all could fit. But they can’t. So when Eddie heard the 3 beeps of the dead line, he knew he fucked up and real bad this time. 

He left for a Chinese restaurant and bought the usual. He walked back to his studio, and sat back again at the piano while he ate his chicken quietly. And then it hit him. The melody of the song suddenly crashed into him like a train and it all made sense. The story does continue, and this little rocky path made him stumble. But once he placed both hands on the keyboard the story seemed to write itself as he just played along with only one thing on his mind.

Steve.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☪ . :☆ﾟ. ───

#by: me #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fic #steve and eddie #steve x eddie #steddie parents #dad steddie #rockstar eddie x teacher steve #steddie angst #steddie dads #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie parents saga!

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - drug use,, sexual refrences

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused🩷

Chapter 7

The day before I was to leave for Germany, Matt took me aside and said, “Baby, as much as I hate to say it, we’re gonna have to face it. Our time is up.” I broke down and hung onto him tightly, burying my head in his chest.

“I’m not leaving,” I said, sobbing. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll call my parents and say I missed the plane.”

“C’mon, Baby. You think they’re gonna fall for that?”

“Then I’ll tell them the truth: that I love you and that I won’t come back.”

“Hey, hey.” He was trying to calm me. “You’re just gonna make it worse for the next time. I’ve been thinkin’, I always wanted you to see Graceland. But right now, I’ve got some business to take care of in Boston for a few weeks, and then I’ve gotta do another film. So if you go back and do well in school and behave yourself, maybe your parents will let you spend Christmas at Graceland with me and my family.”

I loved the idea, but Christmas was six months away. Anything could happen between now and then.

That night in bed Matt held me very close for a long time. I felt that he was doing more than just comforting me. He was telling me how deeply he cared.

And more than that: His deep belief in consummating our love affair only in marriage gave me hope for the future.

Later, our lovemaking had more feeling and intensity than ever before. Matt wasn’t going to let me go home without my taking a little of him with me. He didn’t enter me; he didn’t have to. He fulfilled my every desire.

“I want you back the way you are now,” he whispered just before dawn. “And remember, I’ll always know.”

I smiled and nodded. I couldn’t conceive of wanting anyone but him.

Matt didn’t walk me into the airport. We kissed goodbye in the limousine. It was a tender but excruciatingly brief moment. I didn’t think the pain could have been greater even if he told me I’d never return.

I walked onto the plane like a robot. I was in a daze that lasted throughout the eleven hour flight. I talked to no one and didn’t care who saw the tears constantly streaming down my face. My world had come to an abrupt end. Finally I closed my eyes and in my mind I relived every moment of my visit. Suddenly the stewardess was telling us to fasten our seat belts for the landing. The thought of freshening up before we arrived never occurred to me. I just sat in a daze, waiting for the plane to taxi to a stop. Then I listlessly gathered up my things and made my way out.

When I first saw my parents, my mother was crying with joy at seeing me and my father was wearing a big welcome-home smile. But as I came nearer, their expressions changed from delight to absolute horror. My father turned away angrily. For a moment my mother just stared. Then she reached into her purse, pulled out a mirror, and thrust it at me.

“Look at yourself! How could you walk off the plane like that?”

I glanced at myself in the mirror and immediately understood their response. Two weeks before, I had left them, a fresh-faced sixteen-year-old, wearing a suitable white cotton suit and innocent of anything but a touch of mascara. Now, not only was I wearing the heavy makeup that Matt liked, but my tears had smeared it all over my face. I hadn’t bothered to lift a comb to my hair, which was unkept and tangled. My parents were shocked and disappointed.

Too embarrassed to look at them, I put my hand to my face and nonchalantly tried to wipe off the residue of black mascara and liner. Then I said, ‘I’d like to go to the ladies’ room.”

“You’re going straight home,” my father snapped. “If you left it on this long, you might as well keep it on another hour.” He hardly said another word to me until we got home and I washed my face.

Christmas in the family was always a major production, but Christmas 1962 was one time I wasn’t concerned about presents. I was bound for the place that I had often dreamed about but never let myself believe that I would actually see—Graceland.

Getting there hadn’t been easy. The plotting and scheming had started one morning at 2:10 a.m., when I had sleepily answered the phone to hear Matt’s voice. He seemed in great spirits. Laughing and joking, he told me that RCA had sent him some horrible demo records for his next movie. “I’m listening to ’em, Baby, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I have to laugh because if I don’t, I’ll start cryin’.”

I chuckled sympathetically, but I could hear the sadness in his voice. Then he said softly, “Little Girl, I want you here for Christmas. I don’t care how you arrange it or what you have to tell your parents. I’ll go along with anything you say, as long as you get here.”

I was shaking as I hung up the phone. I couldn’t imagine my parents allowing me to leave again—especially at Christmas—but there was no way I was going to let him down.

After a few days of silently avoiding the subject, I casually brought up Matt’s request to my mother.

“Absolutely not,” she declared. “It’s out of the question. Christmas is for the family. That’s the way it’s always been and it’s not going to change—not even for Matt Sturniolo.”

I wouldn’t give up. My poor mother was torn between making a dream come true for her daughter and doing what was right as a parent.

“When will this end?” she murmured with an anguished expression. Finally she agreed to speak to my father.

That was the breakthrough.

Again the pleas. Again the promises.

One month later, I was on a flight bound for the United States. Matt had asked James and Angela to meet me at La Guardia Airport in New York and escort me to Boston because he didn’t want me to travel alone.

By the time we reached Boston, I was both exhausted and exhilarated. We went to James’s home on Hamilton Drive, a short distance from Graceland. Matt had left explicit instructions that only he could drive me through the gates of Graceland.

A few minutes after we arrived, he called. His father handed me the phone. Before I could say two words, Matt blurted he was on his way. Minutes later the door flew open and I was in his arms.

Graceland was everything Matt had said it would be. The front lawn was adorned with a nativity scene and the white columns of the mansion were ablaze with holiday lights. It was one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever laid eyes on.

Inside the mansion a crowd of Matt’s friends and relatives all stood waiting to greet me. I felt relaxed and comfortable as he introduced me to everyone, because I had already met several of his friends when I was in Los Angeles.

Then Matt said, “y/nn, there’s someone special who’s waiting for you.” With a smile, he led me up the stairs and opened the door to his grandmother’s room.

“Dodger,” he called out. “Look who’s here. It’s little y/nn. She’s come a long way, Dodger, to be with little us.”

Using endearing terms like “little us” was his way of being affectionate. His mother had raised him on this sweet talk and Matt spoke it with those he cherished.

Dodger smiled and greeted me in her soft voice. “Good God, child, it took you a long time to get here.”

She was sitting in a high-backed overstuffed chair. I leaned over and she gave me a hug and patted me on the back. I was delighted at how good Dodger was looking, her hair, once completely gray, was now a natural looking dark brown. I noticed she wasn’t as thin as she’d been in Germany. At 18 Hauptstrasse, Dodger had presided over a busy household; at Graceland she had withdrawn to her room.

After Matt left us alone, I could tell something was bothering her and asked, “Grandma, how has everything been with you?” She looked at me and then down at the lace handkerchief in her lap.

“I don’t know, Hon. I’m worried about Matt and James. Matt is still upset over his Daddy’s marriage.” James and Angela had gotten married a year earlier. “He don’t spend much time at Graceland anymore and his Daddy’s worried. I hate to see the two of ’em upset like that. Lord have mercy. Matt didn’t go to the weddin’, you know. Matt is tryin’ hard, but when she comes over he just gets up and leaves the room. I don’t know if he’ll ever accept it.”

She reached for her snuffbox. It was an endearing habit that she tried to keep secret.

“But I don’t want you to go worrying about it,” she continued. “You go off and have a good time with Matt. That young’un needs you now.”

I nodded and kissed her cheek. “I promise I’ll take care of him, Dodger,” I said, feeling guilty leaving her. She worried too much, just as all the Sturniolo’s did. It was contagious.

She laughed softly and said with a smile, “Ain’t no one ever called me that but Matt.”

All that night, the guys played pool, watched TV, and hung around the kitchen badgering Pauline (“VO5”) while she played short-order cook.

I realized that there was no set routine at Graceland. Everyone came and went as they pleased. It wasn’t a home, but rather an open house, available to the guys and their dates all with Matt’s approval, of course.

The evening ended around 4 a.m., when Matt finally said good night to everyone and took my hand. I was really exhausted since, in anticipation of the trip, I hadn’t slept for two days. As I walked up the white-carpeted staircase, I closed my eyes and wished I was already in bed.

In his room, Matt gave me two large red pills, explaining, “Take these now, and by the time you come to bed, you’ll be nice and relaxed.” I really didn’t need anything, but he insisted, saying that they would help me sleep better and were a little stronger than what I’d taken before.

I didn’t recognize them. They were larger than I’d ever taken before. You’d have to be a horse to get these down, I thought, but I reluctantly swallowed them.

I went into the dressing room to bathe, and as I sank into the tub, my head settled on the edge. My arm was so heavy I could barely raise my hand; my eyelids seemed weighted. But I felt good and kind of silly.

The longer I soaked, the less energy I had and I only barely managed to get out of the tub. Trying to focus on the bed, I staggered over to where Matt was lying. Then I collapsed.

After that, I was occasionally awakened by the sound of distant voices. One time, I thought I saw Matt whispering to me. Another time I saw his father. I didn’t know if I was dreaming or hallucinating, but when I closed my eyes I could feel the room spinning around.

Then I felt a soft hand gently rubbing and patting my arm. “y/n? y/n? Hon, it’s Grandma, you all right?” Slowly I tried to lift my head, but it was too heavy and it fell back down.

“What’d you give this young’un?” I heard someone say. “You got no business givin’ her something she’s not used to. Son, maybe we ought to call a doctor. She’s in bad shape. I don’t think we should take any chances.”

I managed to focus my half-closed eyes on Matt and gave him a wink and a giddy grin.

He said, “Hell no, we’re not callin’ any doctor. Look, she’s comin’ to.”

Kneeling beside me, he held up my head, and I saw that I wasn’t in his room but lying on the white chaise lounge in his office, which adjoined the bedroom.

“What am I doing here?”

“I walked you in here after the first day,” he answered in a concerned tone. “We were trying to revive you.”

“But I just went to bed,” I said, slurring my words.

“Baby, you had us all scared. You’ve been out for two days on two goddamn five hundred-milligram Placidyls. Must have been out of my head giving them to you that way.”

“Two days! That’s two days off my trip. What’s today?”

“December twenty-third.”

“Oh no.”

“Don’t worry. We still have plenty of time.” He smiled at me and said, “I promise, Baby, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Merry Christmas,” Matt said proudly, handing me a honey-colored six-week-old puppy.

“Oh, Matt. He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, and the smallest.” I gave Matt a big hug and heard a muffled yelp between us. “Oh, Honey!” I said. “I’m sorry.” I had unwittingly just named the pup Honey.

It was Christmas Eve. Matt had prayed for a white Christmas and—as if on cue—that night three full inches of snow fell.

The gathering around the tree included James and Angela, her three sons—David, Ricky, and Billy—the entourage and their wives, and a handful of Matt’s other relatives and friends. Everyone was pleasant and made me feel welcome, though it must have seemed strange to see me rather than Nicole sitting beside Matt. Nicole had shared Christmas with him the two previous years. Sometimes I couldn’t help wondering if he missed her. It wasn’t easy for him to let go of people. I knew that.

It was fun watching Matt open gifts. “Just what I needed, another jewelry box,” he quipped, unwrapping the fourth one of the evening. He looked over at Gene Smith, one of the few people who could consistently make Matt laugh.

“You give me this, Gene?” he asked.

Gene mumbled, “Naw, M, I didn’t give it to you.”

Then Matt reconsidered. “On second thought, I don’t guess you did, Gene. It’s got too much taste.”

“Ah, M, how can you say that?” Gene was mumbling in his slow Southern drawl.

“Easy.” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Just look at you, Gene, a living example of ba-a-a-d taste.”

Pretending to be insulted, Gene walked away scratching his head, as everyone laughed.

Although there were lots of jokes, I sensed a sadness in Matt’s look as our eyes met, and I couldn’t help recalling what he’d once said to me in Germany: “Christmas just won’t be the same at Graceland without Mom. It’ll be hard for me, and I don’t know if I can bear the loneliness. But I guess I’ll manage. God will give me the strength somehow.”

“Oh, look, Matt,” I said, trying to distract him with a large, colorfully wrapped present. “Here’s one more you forgot to open.” It was my own gift to him, a musical cigarette case, which I’d purposely saved for last. I held my breath as he unwrapped it.

He opened the box and it began to play “Love Me Tender.”

“I love it! I really do, y/nn. Thank you.”

There was a twinkle in his eyes, and I wished I could always make him this happy.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - longgg chapter again🎀

#matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #Spotify

[slayagami]

𐙚synopsis: after losing consciousness in a villain attack, you wake up 2 and a half years later in the hospital. the time doesn't feel long to you, so adjusting to the new updates takes you by surprise. like your boyfriend of 2 years, izuku midoriya, apologizing that he found love elsewhere, in your best friend ochaco uraraka. you find refuge and comfort in your old friend todoroki, who visited you everyday you were out. does new love blossom or do you fight for midoriya back?

𐙚pairing: midoriya x afab!reader x todoroki

𐙚warnings: mild violence, cursing, cheating?, love triangle-ish, angst to fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, depression, nonchalant reader but over thinker, reader struggles expressing emotions, characters are 22

𐙚readers quirk: poison arrow. can appear a bow and produce arrows that are ingested with poison that can temporarily paralyze or slow down the movement of who was shot. effects lasts roughly 20 minutes but depending on the victim, possible to move but will be slowed down. quirk allows the reader to have sharp sight, and can see farther and more clearer than most. reader has to train to shoot arrows more accurately. strength of poison depends on readers emotions. hero name: artemis.

𐙚a/n: slow writer </3 now that I have free time I want to write this idea out but be patient bc I want the chapters to be lengthy! please look forward to this upcoming story!

rough rough rough draft/sneak peak! definitely needs tweaking trust me it'll be written so much better!

you and midoriya were dating for a few years after ua until you were involved with a bad fight again a villain, causing you to fall into a coma for 2.5 years. once woken up, disoriented n all, the nurses called your family and izuku. and izuku came in with ochaco, your parents uneasy. you noticed how he would pull back from your longing touch, or how distant he tried to be, falling to uraraka’s side. your parents sighed, and motioned midoriya to give u the worst news you could’ve received upon waking up.

“me and ochacho are together now. i know this isnt what you want to hear when you wake up but you were out for so long the doctor’s didnt think you were ever gonna wake up. i didnt intend for this to happen.”

izuku knew you had trouble expressing yourself. he knew you hated looking vulnerable, especially in front of your parents. he can see how much more pale for face seemed, the heart monitor picking up with your beats. it physically pained him to understand how you must be feeling, but be unable to express that.

you nodded, tired eyes staring at ochacho almost betrayingly. you felt the burn in your eyes, sting in your throat, but kept it together. “oh, i see. i guess it was wrong for me to assume you’d wait.”

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° mha m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° enjoy !

｡˚ ° love again.

𐙚CHAPTER 1

𐙚CHAPTER 2

𐙚CHAPTER 3

#kiwi’s works. 🧃 #✶࿐ izuku midoriya #༘⋆ shoto todoroki 🫂 #my hero academia #slow burn #angst to fluff #x reader #midoriya x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #izuku midoria x reader

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twenty-One

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty,

A/N: All aboard the tear express!

She blinked at the four smiling faces in front of her.

"A vacation?" She parroted what Sokka had just exclaimed. Her unenthusiastic response did deflate a few shoulders, but Aang pushed ahead.

"Yeah! We've been flying around so much that Sokka thought it would be great if we just had a couple of days of pure relaxation. And what better place then at a secluded hot spring." He gestured grandly towards the canyon behind him.

True to his words, the round basin did boast quite an impressive spring that looked inviting. Not to mention it was surrounded from all sides by tall rocky walls, so they could bend to their heart's content.

Looking over his shoulder, Orora pursed her lips before shrugging. "I guess. As long as Sokka doesn't think it'll come in the way of his big trip." She looked towards him.

Where she would've made a little joke about his tendency to over-plan and over-think things, she remained silent. Sokka tried not to let his worry show, so he simply smiled wildly. "Not at all." He said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Beside, no offense Orora, but we've been traveling more then you have, and I think we've become pros at this traveling thing."

He gave her a grin before stepping away. "Now lets have some good old vacation fun!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air as Toph earthbended the rocky platform they were standing on and down to the water.

Orora remained nearly unfazed.

Prompting Aang and Katara to share a look of worry.

                                           ————————–

This was ridiculous.

This wasn't a vacation.

They were being sent away. That was it.

It had to be.

Scowling to himself, Zuko shoved the last of his clothes into the bag he would be taking to Ember Island. What in the Spirit World had possessed his father to have them go on a trip to relax?

How could he think about relaxing when all his mind could think about was Orora and nothing else.

Well not nothing else, there was the fact that Aang was still alive. But that hardly mattered.

What mattered was going away to Ember Island meant he would be mostly alone with his own thoughts. Not that he wasn't alone here, he was always by himself. But at least there were ways to distract himself. Practicing his firebending and learning the more advanced sets, using his Dao swords to keep his skills with the weapons sharp, reading in the library and learning the more intricate ways the Fire Nation worked.

His father was actually rather impressed with how fast he was progressing. He had no idea, that his son was working himself to the bone so he wouldn't have to think of her.

Then again, no matter how much he tried, there was no escaping her.

She was always there, in the back of his mind, lingering just beyond his conscious thoughts.

Opening the door beside his bed, he paused. His gaze was fixed upon the comb he had kept near him since his return to the Fire Nation. He wasn't doing himself any favors by keeping it with him. Looking at it everyday just reminded him of the fact that they weren't together.

And would likely never be together since she was out there and he was here.

Right, he scoffed to himself, as if that were the only reason for the distance between them, he thought as that all too familiar guilt licked along just under his skin.

Shaking his head, he picked up the comb and wrapping it carefully in a red silk cloth, placed it at the very bottom of his bag under a false opening lest someone, his sister, find it.

                                           ————————–

"Hey Orora!"

She looked up from where she had been flicking tiny stones with the tip of her finger and into the water. The small plinking of the stones as they hit the surface of the water was oddly comforting. Toph approached her with a determined gait and a grin on her lips.

"You promised me a bending duel." She said, pointing a finger at the older girl. She'd already dressed down to her swimming outfit, everyone had really. Orora had stayed dressed.

"So come on Ice Princess! There isn't much metal around, but that won't stop me from beating your butt." She added with a slight punch to her shoulder. Orora rubbed the sore spot before sighing deeply. "Not right now Toph." She finally said, turning her attention back to staring at the water. "I'm tired."

Toph stayed standing behind Orora for a good few minutes, though the other girl didn't even notice. She continued her little game of flicking tiny stones into the water. Her heartbeat felt so slow and dull, Toph realized, looking worriedly back at Sokka who was standing just a few paces away.

He moved forward, placing a hand on her shoulder and pulling her back. Toph followed his lead, though not before looking back sadly at the girl she looked up to and had come to consider as an older sister.

She hadn't even noticed the new nickname Toph had given her.

                                           ————————–

"Hey Orora!"

It was midday, and the other four had been swimming for quite some time now, but everyone was starting to get hungry and Sokka had opted to catch them their lunch.

Which he decided was the perfect opportunity to teach Orora how to fish.

The girl in question looked up from where she had been sitting on Appa's tail. The bison didn't seem to mind, and it was better then sitting on the rocky floor. At least his tail was soft. She tore her gaze away from the never-ending blue sky overhead to blink at Sokka. "Yeah?" She said, her voice lacking any emotion. Despite the worry gnawing at his heart, Sokka grinned.

"Remember I promised I'd teach you some more stuff other then hand to hand." He paused, waiting for her to respond, but she stayed silent. Clearing his throat he continued. "Well! I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to teach you how to fish!" So saying he whipped out a fishing rod and with a hook at the end of it, which he had been unsuccessfully hiding behind his back.

The boy grinned. "Come on! It'll be fun, and you can even use your waterbending to find some fish, though I would prefer we do it the old fashioned way." He added, flicking the rod and catching the bottom of his shirt in the hook. It caught the fabric, making him scowl in annoyance as he tried to pull it out.

Though he stopped when Orora sighed. "Not right now Sokka." She said in a low voice, turning so her back was to him and she could instead look across the spring in front of her. "I'm tired."

The exact same response as she had given Toph, and maybe it was his imagination, but she sounded even more sadder then before. Glancing over his shoulder he caught the worried look on his sister's face. She gestured for him to step away and he did.

But not before he glanced back at Orora. She may be older then him by a few months, but that didn't mean he didn't worry about her like he did Katara.

He did manage to catch some fish, and he did notice that Orora's fish went untouched.

                                           ————————–

"Hey Orora!"

It was almost evening, the sun had begun to set and the sky was turning a pretty pink and orange. She'd been staring at the sky for quite some time now, but at the sound of her name, she lifted her head.

It felt so heavy that she almost dropped right back.

Katara smiled above her. "You know it's gonna be a clear night and the moon will be out." She gestured to the large body of water that was at their disposal. "I could teach you some new waterbending forms and maybe you could teach me that new technique you came up with. I'd love to use my legs and feet for waterbending too."

The young girl looked at her eagerly. There was no way Orora would be able to resist the chance to learn some new forms. Nor would she pass up teaching what she had taught to Katara. Early on Orora had told her how much she enjoyed teaching someone something, anything really. So long as she knew what she was doing effected someone's life in a positive manner.

However, Katara's hopes were in vain. "Not right now Katara." She said the exact same words she had told Sokka and Toph. "I'm tired." The words sounded rehearsed, as if she had been repeating them over and over in her head, just so she could say them correctly.

The hopeful look in Katara's soft blue eyes diminished as she watched her older sister turn away from her and lay there as if she were.........

Tears stung her eyes and she nearly reached out to grab Orora's shoulder. But a hand on hers stopped her. She looked up at Aang who shook his head. Sighing in defeat, Katara stepped back. Aang squeezed her hand in comfort as the both of them walked away to where Sokka and Toph stood waiting.

"Now what?" Toph asked. Aang sighed, glancing over his shoulder at the still form of his older sister. "Now, I try to get through to her my way."

                                           ————————–

"Hey Orora."

Her position hadn't changed from where she'd been staring up at the sky. She had been observing the changing colors of the sky, she now focused on the twinkling stars. At the sound of her name, she shifted her head to look at Aang.

It felt too heavy for her to even lift.

Still she did, just in time to catch Aang reaching out to her with a hand. "Come sit by the fire." He said, smiling softly at her. It wasn't a request like Katara, Sokka and Toph's had been earlier that day.

Closing her eyes briefly, she reached out to take his hand, pulling herself up. A wave of dizziness washed over her, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything the entire day, and very little the day before. While she tried the gather her bearings, Aang led her towards the fire around which the rest of their little group sat.

They were all watching silently as she finally settled, taking her place in the small circle. Aang moved a little to the side, though he sat down next to her.

"Orora." He began. "We're all worried about you."

She stayed quiet.

"You haven't been eating, you're barely sleeping and you haven't bended for days now. Even when the meteor fell, you stayed with Appa instead of helping." He paused. "The Orora I know would never stand by and do nothing."

Katara shifted forward a little from where she sat on Orora's other side. "When we were at that polluted river, you didn't even put up a fight to help those people. You would never turn your back on anyone, so why didn't you do anything then?" Orora simply continued staring into the fire. As had become the norm for her, her legs were pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around them.

Standing up, Sokka moved to the space between his Katara and Orora. "Whatever it is that you're going through Orora, you need to tell us. We only want to help." He encouraged, as Toph stood as well, moving to stand beside Aang.

"He's right, its been effected your heart as well. I've noticed it sometimes skips a beat and that could be dangerous." The firelight flickered against her unseeing eyes, as Aang reached out to gently take Orora's hand.

"Orora, I think its time you tell them."

A little startled, the girl looked up. For the first time in days there was a flicker of emotions that played along her features as she stared at Aang. He smiled sadly. "You stepped up when all of us were broken beyond repair." The young Avatar said, his voice suddenly carrying the wisdom of all his past lives. "You took care of all of us. Kept us from breaking apart completely."

He squeezed her hand. "You are a part of our family Orora, and family helps each other. They stand by each other, so no matter what you will say or whatever your choice might be, we will stand by you."

Ice blue eyes blinked, shifting from Aang to Toph, who wore the same smile as Aang. Her head moved to look at the siblings from her sister tribe. Each of them wore encouraging looks, and yet there was that worry glinting in their eyes.

She didn't like seeing it there. They shouldn't be worried about her.

A long pause followed. One where her heart warred with her mind. The former begged her to reveal everything, to unburden what she had carried for so long. The latter clouded her thoughts with nothing but darkness.

That was it.

Nothing but darkness.

"There's a strange darkness in my mind." She began, taking her hand back from Aang and staring into the fire once more. "Growing up I've seen dark before, but not like this. Never like this." She shook her head almost desperately, as if trying to get rid of whatever plagued her mind.

"I don't know what it is, but I know the source of it." A hand on her shoulder had her flinching, but she continued. "Its the knowledge that my s-soul-soulm-ate betrayed me."

Her very voice tripped on the word, the syllables heavy on her tongue.

"Your soulmate?" Katara gasped from beside her. Orora nodded. "Aang knows who he is, but I asked him to keep it a secret." She added, lest the other three tell him off for not telling them.

A pause once more, before Sokka spoke. "Who's your soulmate Orora?"

Another beat of silence.

"Prince Zuko."

Deathly silence, even the creatures of the night seemed to have gone into shock.

Katara and Sokka looked to Aang behind Orora's head, to see him nod in confirmation, his lips pressed in a thin line. Where they had been standing, Sokka and Toph sat down, forming something of a circle around Orora.

Reaching out, Katara gently took the older girl's hand and began to stroke the soft skin. "Tell us everything." She encouraged.

And so, within the comfort of her new family, Orora began to recount the whole tale.

She told them everything, and as she did each memory seemed to play out in the fire crackling in front of her. The young waterbender left out no detail, spilling what had been festering within her for so so long.

Every moment shared.

Every word spoken.

Every glare they exchanged.

Every fight they had.

Every realization she made about him.

Every time he showed the humanity in him.

Every time the trust between them grew.

Every time she would set him straight.

Every smile.

Every secret he confided in her.

Every laugh.

Every time he helped her.

Every tear.

Every time he comforted her.

Every fear.

Every time she comforted him.

Every insecurity.

Every hope that was born based on everything that happened.

Every embrace.

Everything.

She spoke until she had nothing left to say.

Until her throat felt raw from talking for so long after such a lengthy bout of silence.

"But in the end, none of it mattered." She whispered. "Because he betrayed me. He betrayed his Uncle. But that wasn't what hurt me the most." She let out a airy laugh of disbelief.

"What hurt me the most was that he betrayed himself." All four listeners looked at each other in surprise. "He went back to the people who hurt him, because he wanted his old life back, and in doing so, he betrayed himself."

Another laugh, this one broken in place as she pressed the heal of her palm against her forehead. "And that hurt more then anything. More then the fact that he betrayed me. That I couldn't do anything. That I wasn't enough for him." Another laugh that echoed across the water. "Me. His soulmate. I wasn't enough for him. How foolish and naive does one have to be to believe in that?"

Finally she looked up from the fire, her eyes burning with several emotions that none of them could identify.

"You weren't naive or foolish Orora." Aang finally spoke. "You did what any other soulmate would do when they meet their other half." His grey eyes flickered towards his own soulmate for a brief second. "You hoped, and that is neither naive nor foolish."

Letting out a growl of frustration, the girl stood up, moving to walk around the fire so she could stand in front of the edge of the Spring. "And what good did that bring me?" She asked, no demanded to know as she rounded back on all of them.

"Only heartbreak and a lesson that having a soulmate is nothing but torture." Whatever emotions she was feeling in that moment seemed to overflow from her very being. The water behind her trembled.

"I mean, Toph will never be able to know who her soulmate is because she can't see her string." The girl in question looked on sadly at her older heartbroken sister.

"Your soulmate turned into the moon Sokka, you can never be with her only watch from far away and wander what might have been." Sokka's eyes flickered to the moon as it shone just behind his raging sister.

She fell silent as her blue gaze flickered between Katara and Aang. Despite the plethora of emotions she was feeling, she would never betray the trust they had in her.

"Its just.......its just........." She raised her clenched hands to the side of her head for a brief moment. "Despite everything he did, I miss him. I miss him so much that I can barely breath." On of her hands dropped to her chest where her heart raged within. "I'm just numb. I thought I was building a new life, a better life. With him. How could I be such a fool?" The surface of the water behind her began to move, creating small ripples that lapped against the bank where she stood. With every word she spoke her vice began to grow in volume.

"And yet I grieve for the life I knew with him." The waves grew a little more. "I would've followed him anywhere, but he's gone to a place I can never........"

That strange feeling in her throat intensified and her eyes pricked, growing hotter by the second. But she continued.

"This grief that I feel." Her voice began to reach a crescendo. "It's pulling me down." Every eye was trained behind her where the water trembled. "And I don't know how to fight against it anymore!" She screamed.

Her arms came swinging to her sides in a wide arc.

And the water behind her rose in a giant tidal wave. Only to transform into huge spikes of ice and freeze in place.

Orora was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling. There was an almost desperate look in her eyes as she looked from one pair of eyes to the other. The feeling in her throat intensified, and an ache began to form in her chest. Overwhelmed, the girl fell to her knees.

"Your heart just skipped a beat again." Toph called, as all of them quickly moved to surround her. Orora clutched at her throat, her breathing coming out in ragged pants as she turned her panic filled eyes to Sokka.

Suddenly he understood.

Reaching out he grasped her by the shoulders.

"Orora, you have to let go." He urged her. "After Yue, I tried to hold it all in too. And I did for a while, but its not a good thing. Holding back is never a good thing."

She stared at him.

"Just......" He reached up to brush something from the corner of her eye. Something wet. A tear?

"Let go."

A sniffle echoed against the icy wall she had just created. Her entire body trembled. Her eyes grew hotter as she squeezed them shut.

That strange feeling in her throat rose up and escaped from between her lips in the form of a cry that echoed with the utter heartbreak she had been experiencing for the past three weeks.

And for the first time in her life, Orora cried.

She cried with her heart, her body, her mind, her voice, her eyes, her very soul.

She cried and cried, loud sobs wrenching from her fragile body. Katara was the first one to gather her in her arms and hold her, just like Orora had held her all those weeks ago when Aang had been in a coma. Tears pricked her own eyes as she listened to the girl sob over the loss and betrayal that she had kept to herself for so long.

Sokka, Aang and Toph joined the embrace at the same time. Their arms wrapped around Orora, the older sister they had so sorely needed. That they had lacked in their family. They would stand by her, just as she had stood by them. And after so long of barely any reaction from her, seeing her finally release all those emotions was a comfort.

Behind them the icy wall slowly dissipated, the water melting away into the Spring. With every passing second, the trembling in her body subsided, and her sobs began to quieten, her breath slowly evening out.

Until finally, after a night that seemed to have lasted an eternity, it all ended.

And Orora, in the comfort of her family's embrace, fell asleep.

And this time, she did not dream.

                                           ————————–

Amber eyes widened at the sight.

There she was, standing in the moonlight once more. But this time, she wasn't looking at him in that disappointed manner, nor was she berating him or even speaking to him.

No, she simply stood there, looking at him with tears streaming down her cheeks.

During the whole time he had known her, Zuko had never seen her cry.

Be sad yes, but never cry.

Yet there she was. Crying and looking so utterly heartbroken that it broke his heart all over again.

"Orora?" He called out, stepping forward, hand raised as if to reach out and touch her.

"Why're you.....?" The words died in his throat as she continued to sob silently. Not a single sound escaped her.

Slowly, she raised her hand, her finger pointing towards him.

Zuko stared at her wide eyed as the realization settled in his chest, so heavy that it actually physically hurt him.

Him.

She was crying because of him.

Shame colored his tone, and tears pricked his own eyes as he stepped forward. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry Orora, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry." He called out to her.

He wanted to reach out to her, touch her, comfort her like she had done him so many many times.

But he couldn't.

She was nothing but a mirage his mind had conjured.

Nothing but an illusion.

And while Zuko was being tortured by how own mind, a certain knife-wielding girl stood in the shadows, watching the Prince with narrowed eyes.

Watching as he spoke to someone who was not there.

                                           ————————–

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#zuko x oc #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #avatar #netflix avatar #avatar aang #the thread of fate #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #atla zuko #fire lord zuko #prince zuko #zuko #the gaang

[spyxfamilyanalysis]

Do you think donovan has something to do w project apple? The one that makes Anya can read minds, and if he does do you think he experimented w his children? Or Demetrius is born that weird

Well, I think there might be misunderstanding about the name of the Project. Project Apple is experimented on animals like Bond Forger, to make them useful with special abilities, for Bond's case is predicting the near future. But of course, there are still some limitations: the future can be altered, it is not fixed, as can be seen in Spy x Family episode 13-16, when Anya reading Bond's future predictions and changed it before Twilight was in danger.

And if you are asking what project Anya is experimented, is actually "nameless". Throughout the series and manga, the name of the project is currently unknown, and I, myself, am not sure if the Tatsuya-san will reveal it... Yet somehow, the Internet "said?" that there are the same name? That confused me???

Anyway, this hypothesis about Anya and Donovan has gone wild ever since, so let me explain.

We haven't known much about Demetrius, the only time he appeared was when Damian called him to meet their Father, which can be found in this scene (Chapter 37)

To know more about chapter 37 -> link (it's not that I'm lazy, this post already analyze full so idk what to add...)

About the scars, here are my predictions:

Maybe he really is related to the Project, since the mark of the stiches are pretty close to Anya's. And some are suspected that the ornaments on Anya's head could be a way to hide her scars from the experiments, or I think they are literally just accessories for her hair, like when she was small.

About the scientists, some said that after Anya escaped, the only "laboratory rat" managed to survive, they may be working on animals, like Bond, after that, as "hope" for science to save "world peace". And Donovan could be either an experiment like Anya, testing some sort of weird stuff on himself, or someone like the scientists who just got injured from, like idk, being attacked by his "laboratory animals". And I think that the chances of him being injured from war is very low, because he is the one to start war between Ostania and Westalis.

Are there any chances of Demetrius inherit the intelligence from Donovan? I think no. It's definitely not from the crazy ideas of his own father thinking of war, Ostania and Westalis are currently in the period of the Cold war, where there are no need for weapons, yet politicians are in a tense period, with the risk of war breaking out. True that his intelligence might be genetically inherited, but I can assure that both Damian and Demetrius may know nothing about what he was planning. So, uh, yeah, Demetrius is just that weird, and he is an introvert. You can tell how short his lines are when he was on the phone.

Off-and-bonus topic: I am very suspicious about their mother, Melinda. She first appeared officially in chapter 65, and the bus hijack incident of the Red Circus Arc. When Damian spoke about Donovan, her expression changed completely, as if she hated him deeply and want him gone from her sight. This could mean that she might know about what he was hiding, and probably she has an obsession to Damian, her sweet son~(?)

Look, she is so sus for hell sure. >:( But I'm not sure whether or not she is evil? Even Loid is aware of her now...

Also, take a very close look at the dialogue after the hijack (Chap 75):

She truly loves Damian, yet what we didn't realize that, his brother, Demetrius was not even mentioned in her interior monologue(?)/ mind. We also know that she calls Damian as a curse...: "I never should have come here... If only he'd died in the hijacking...", "If only I weren't burdened with this child...", "How he disgusts me...". At first when this chapter was out, I read this part and thought "he" that she mentioned was Donovan, and now, re-reading this, she was mentioning Damian. And I have no idea if she cares Demetrius more than Damian, or is it the opposite?

And finally, I bet she is hiding something from Damian... I mean, when Anya was mind-reading her, she was a bit scared. A scary obsession to Damian terrifyingly... maybe something about Donovan and the war between the 2 nations.

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

Message from the author (me): This is a very interesting topic! After I received your question, it took me several days to give you my answer which I think is most suitable and accurate, I do hope it is the answer you are looking for. Truly sorry for the long-time response, I was working with my final exams, so I can't answer you immediately.

Anyway, thank you for waiting and taking your time reading!🥰🥰🥰

#spy x family #spy family #anya forger #loid forger #yor forger #yor briar #facts #anya x damian #melinda desmond #donovan desmond #damian desmond #damian x anya #spy x family damian #demetrius desmond

[kasagia]

I want to start off by saying I never wrote this kind of message before and you don't have to reply as these are just my thoughts lol. Atm I really think ''right hand'' is the best Feyd fic out there! At the end of every chapter, I kind of already have an idea in my mind of the possible outcome but with every new chapter you just blow my mind and expectations! The fact that every chapter is filled with action makes the reader longing for more (me included) I really like the way you structured Y/n and her dynamic with Feyd and I love that her choices gravitate around what's best for her & she doesn't act like a teenage girl in love (homegirl actually has personality AND is a badass). Regardless of what others said I think that her being the one to stab him was the supreme act of love she could've ever shown our crazy boy (maybeee she stabbed him hoping he wouldn't pass because she knew if Paul was the one to do it he'd be dead fr) Thank you for feeding our fantasies and updating so often (keeping in mind each chapter is long enough to satisfy one bored girl) I hope you ace your exams <3.

*Me reading this*

My two dear anonymous, thank you soooooooooo much! 😊😊🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🖤🖤🖤🩵🩵🩵

Of course I will replay after such words xD How could I not when I'm so fucking grateful? I really like surprising you and I'm very happy that I can do it. 🩵🩵🖤🩵🖤🖤 This is the type of reader I like to write about the most. And maybe she makes decisions that are good for her, but she is not entirely indifferent to Feyd's fate and it is of great importance to her. Unfortunately, I won't confirm or deny your suspicions, but... YES GIRL. Her actions were on the verge of betrayal and an expression of great love, and now we have to wait and see which side she will choose and decide to go. Thank you so damn much! I will ace them and go back to writing for you all! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

I'M CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU ALLL!!! (I guess it's karma for what happened in part V… I don't regret anything anyway xDDDDD) Unfortunately, I promised myself that I wouldn't tell you anything and that I wouldn't give you any hints about what will happen in the next chapter... except for the ones I wrote in Part V. So I won't confirm or deny your wonderful speculations of you all (that I LOVED to read. You can feed me with more.) 🤭😇 Thank you very much, I don't know how to express my gratitude for your involvement… just thank you!!!!!!!! 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #anon ask #i am so sorry #and so excited #thank u