#a genuine state of peril at all times

[cherrysnax]

speaking of bhm I feel like this year has genuinely been the worst.

[foldingfittedsheets]

My paternal grandmother was a librarian. I only got to see that set of grandparents once a year as they lived out of state. I fondly remember summers spent at their house watching That Darn Cat and The King and I on loop, hunting for water skippers in the back creek, and reading the entirety of the Peanuts comics.

Because my grandma was a librarian she was delighted to foster my love of reading. We made trips to the library every week. One summer when I was seven or so I got really into this kids series about princesses all named after gemstones, each had a unique magic power.

At the end of each book was a puzzle or some extra bit of lore to decode. All of them were easily copied down in some way. Until I got to Sapphire’s book. At the end of the story Princess Sapphire was in peril! She needed a hero to come save her from a terrible fate. And there, on the last page, was a decoder device. It needed to be cut out and assembled.

I had to help save the Princess!!! In the iron grip of a fever of imagination I immediately found scissors and started carefully cutting the page. The page warned only to use scissors with an adult present and I scoffed to think I needed supervision just for scissors! I was a hero!Her plight called to me from the pages, imaginings of how I would daringly rescue the beautiful sweet Princess Sapphire ran through my little brain-

And about halfway up the page toward my goal I froze. This was a library book. I couldn’t cut a library book! What was I doing?! Even now in my memory it stands as a glaring example of the first time I mastered impulse control. Tragically, too late.

I was distraught. My grandma had a sacred duty to books and I, villain that I was, had defiled a precious tome! I wallowed for some time in abject misery, experiencing the greatest amount of guilt my tiny body had ever previously held. I’d probably go to jail. For a crime as monumental as wielding scissors against a book I wouldn’t even get dessert in jail.

Gradually, I processed my way through the grief of my vile deeds. I couldn’t have the decoder, I slowly accepted. That might be punishment enough. And I had only cut the page halfway. So it was only half a crime... It wasn’t illegal to lie when you’d aborted an evil act, right?

I didn’t know but I didn’t want to face my grandma’s potential wrath. I have no memory of my grandma ever yelling at me. I waited until the next day to approach her.

“Grandma? I finished my book and when I got to the end I saw someone had cut the page! They probably wanted the decoder because I also want that but it was very bad to cut a book, wasn’t it?”

My grandma regarded me benignly. She carefully took the book to observe it and nodded. “It’s good to see that they stopped before they cut it all the way out. Let’s go tape this together, and then I can photocopy the page and we can make you a decoder.”

I was ecstatic. Rewarded for my honesty! I created and cracked codes for the rest of summer with the flimsy paper creation we’d made. I genuinely doubt my grandma believed that I wasn’t the perpetrator, but I loved that she acknowledged that the person responsible stopped.

[targaryenimagines]

A Gentle Flame

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6,701

Summary: After months of trying, you are finally able to give something back to your Khaleesi that she never thought she’d have again — an heir to not only House Targaryen but the Iron Throne. You just aren’t sure how you’d like to reveal the good news to your beloved; taking solace in your dearest friend’s company as he tried to help you in revealing the truth. Of course, you should have known that your dragon’s possessive fire would never be quenched — not even for Grey Worm.

Warning(s): G!P Daenerys, jealousy/possessiveness, and pregnancy.

Notes: Can be seen as part of the “My Khaleesi” series, but can also be read as a stand-alone as well. Thank you to the wonderful @rain-mikaelson for this amazing idea!

Series Masterlist

“She doesn’t know?”

You don’t have to turn around to see, with picture perfect clarity, the confusion that must have been etched upon your dearest friends face. The thickening of his accent alone told you all you needed to know.

“No,” you reply, setting the brush you had been fiddling with firmly back in its place on your vanity. “I only just discovered it. I went to the Palace Healer after I missed my second cycle in recent months.”

The familiar sound of leather rubbing against sharpened metal echoes through the air — a telltale sign that he was processing what had been revealed — as you begin to fiddle, once more, with the brush you hadn’t needed since the conversation had commenced.

“And the Healer?” He hedges out the question, hesitation clear in his tone. “She won’t divulge anything to the Queen?”

“No, I made sure of that. The only way Daenerys will find out I’m pregnant is from my own lips and no one else’s.”

There’s a brief moment of silence. “Why tell me, Your Grace?”

Twisting around, so you’re finally staring face-to-face with your closest companion, you can’t help the small, albeit genuine, twist of your lips as you smiled at him. “Because you’re my closest friend, Grey Worm.” You wave a hand in the air, even as a melancholic twinge echoes within your heart. “Dany always had Missandei and I always had you.”

“And you still do,” he intones, clearly fighting through the wave of emotions that her name still invokes within him. “You always will, Your Highness. For as long as I shall live and be able to raise my weapon to the sky in your honor.”

You’re touched by the fierceness within his tone — not doubting, for even a second, the sincerity behind his words; Grey Worm would always protect you, would always be there — but the knowledge of what the upcoming days would bring, causes you to lean back against your vanity with a heavy sigh.

“I just don’t know how I’m going to break the news, Grey.” Running a frazzled hand through your hair, Grey Worm simply observes as you sort out the various thoughts whirling in your head. “The Summit is commencing in five days, the guests will be arriving in two, and you know how Daenerys has been planning this for months.” Your eyes raise to meet stoic brown. “I can’t have her know I’m pregnant until after.”

He tilts his head. “I would assume the Queen would be ecstatic to learn the news, Your Grace.”

“She would be,” you state, confident in that knowledge at least. “But, I can’t have that be what she’d focus on this week. Even if she’d pretend to be business as usual, we both know how Daenerys gets when even the slightest chance of my safety is in question. How do you think she’d react or behave, with all these unknowns arriving in King’s Landing, if she knew I’m with child?”

Grey Worm doesn’t respond, he didn’t have to, not when the last time your life had seemed to be in peril was still so fresh within both of your minds. You had been ambushed returning to the Red Keep after a day in the city, a couple of vagabonds testing their luck against Valyrian and Dothraki blades, it had ended quickly, but your darling wife had not taken the news of no major injuries lightly; not when things could of had a different conclusion. Daenerys had been on a warpath for weeks, refusing to let any stone go unturned, until everyone she deemed responsible for such a fuck up was punished accordingly; whether that be the genial blacksmith that had sold them their weapons, the proprietors of the tavern the vagabonds frequented and loudly discussed their plans, or the guardsmen themselves that hadn’t realized there was a threat before it was almost too late.

“She can’t know,” you stress. “Not when this Summit means so much to her.”

There’s a beat of silence, wherein your closest companion simply observes you, taking note of what feelings must have been flickering within your gaze, before he inclined his head, an imperceptible motion that only the people who knew him would be able to pick up.

“What will you have me do?”

“I wish for you to stay close, my love.”

It wasn’t a request, nor a question, by the steely undercurrent that lay within her tone, the diplomatic smile on her lips causing her eyes to strain with the force of keeping her emotions in check. You could tell that Daenerys had begun to tire of playing host to all the nobles, both of major and minor houses, that Westeros seemed so proud to boast. However, the end result of what this Summit could potentially do, collecting all of the major players within the Seven Kingdoms to witness the power that is House Targaryen, meant that she was allowing herself to be docile for the moment.

At least until the single House that caused her hackles to rise appeared.

House Stark moved as a singular unit, bringing truth to the old adage that its members were like a wolf pack, but the lone man leading met your gaze solidly with his own steely brown. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by Daenerys, nor the guard standing mere feet behind you both, and you could practically feel the air thicken with growing tension. Something that would have caused Daenerys to take up arms if she knew of the life I’m now carrying.

“Your Majesties.” A familiar gravelly voice greets, his head inclining to the both of you. “It’s a pleasure for House Stark to be invited back to King’s Landing.”

His sentiment was clearly not shared with the two women behind him — the shorter of the two looking like she was about stab someone and the taller one’s lips twisting in bitter distaste — but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Warden Snow,” Daenerys greets in return, her smile now almost looking like she was baring her teeth in warning; a sign of dominance that any wolf would know to back away from, unless it was a fight they were after. “I welcome you to the Summit with open arms. I do hope that the amenities within the Keep will be enough to sate you during the duration of your stay.” Violet eyes flicker to icy blue just behind him. “If there’s something you need, you’re more than free to find an attendant that will help you with any issue you may have.”

You stifle the urge to curse under your breath at Daenerys’ veiled insult. It was no secret that House Stark, namely the red-headed she wolf, was at odds with House Targaryen; ever since Daenerys had blatantly told them that the North would not be gaining any form of independence, siting there was no justification for it, as Daenerys had barely gained anything from the short alliance they had brokered during the Long Night. Nor did the North have anything to truly offer since The Wall fell.

It’s an argument that still caused an icy frigidity from members of House Stark now — one that Daenerys didn’t deign important enough to deal with at the present moment, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t ever watchful for what the scheming mutts could be cooking up in order to gain a modicum amount of power for their insipid region — which is why, due to their close proximity, you could feel the steady presence of Grey Worm at your back, his rigid posture even more tense than usual due to the news that only he, and the Palace Healer, were privy to. His close proximity is something you’re sure Daenerys has taken note of, if her varying glances throughout the night were anything to go by, but she was constantly pulled in different directions before she was able to speak the words that clearly wished to escape.

Although aware of your close relationship to the Captain of her Queensguard, she was also aware of Grey Worm’s unfaltering fealty to her and how he would never cross a line that Daenerys had drawn in the sand the moment she had claimed you as her own; you were off limits. The only time anyone should ever enter your personal space, barring her and your handmaidens, and even they had a tight leash to tread with, was if they were pushing you out of the way of immediate danger.

You had told Grey that his proximity would be a red flag to your wife, but his protective instincts seemed to not care as he stared impassively at the three individuals at the bottom of the dais you were standing upon.

Knowing that this could only go one way, if the looks that were being exchanged between Daenerys and the youngest Stark were anything to go by, you step forward, placing a gentle hand to the small of your wife’s back. “I believe it’s time to give your speech, Dany,” you murmur. “And we both know you don’t want to keep this crowd waiting.”

While Daenerys doesn’t turn to face you fully, you’re well aware that you have her attention, her body leaning against the palm of your hand, the simple touch soothing the roaring fire that might have been into a gentle flame.

“You’re right, ñuha perzys.” A gloved hand ghosts across your hip, but Daenerys keeps her gaze resolutely forward. “I’m afraid I must cut this rather delightful exchange short. It’s about the time that I should be addressing the room.” Violet eyes glint sharply. “Wouldn’t wish for anyone to think I favor House Stark.”

Crisis averted, you think, observing the whispered conversation between the three as they left to find their seats. For now.

A soft touch to your cheek causes you to almost jump out of your skin, the sight Daenerys’ concerned expression doing little to sate the racing of your heart. “Are you well, dearest?” Worry colors her tone, eyes flashing with a protective fire. “You’ve seemed preoccupied all night.”

“I’m fine, Dany.” You cradle the hand that’s currently still doing the same to your cheek. “It’s just been a long day. I’m anticipating when it’ll all be over and I’ll get to be alone with you.”

You could tell that your wife felt the same, but something still lurked in violet depths that you adored so much. Something that made you want to curse once more — sometimes you hated how perceptive your wife was, even if the knowledge that she observed you to the point that she could pick apart the very foundations of your moods set you alight with adoration, you couldn’t help but wish that Daenerys would let this slide.

“I’m anticipating the same,” Daenerys replies, stepping back to offer you her arm; a gesture that you accept instantly. “But, for now, we must be the royals that Westeros demands us to be.”

Keeping your gaze locked with the seat that’d be your home for the next few hours, you completely miss the look Daenerys sends Grey Worm as he diligently follows behind you, never missing a step, remaining your ever loyal shadow, and the way her arm tightens around yours that much more because of it.

“I truly don’t know why I haven’t killed them yet,” Daenerys mutters, running gentle fingers through the tangled locks of your hair. Violet eyes staring up at the ceiling of your shared bedchamber. “It’d be so easy then I could simply appoint a new Warden of the North that wouldn’t annoy me so.”

Huffing out a laugh, you rest your chin on Daenerys’ clavicle, staring at her with soft eyes, despite the topic at hand, and press a light kiss to the patch of the skin that was easily available. It was later, hours after the dinner had ended, with the moon hanging high in the sky, but, despite the weight of the day bearing down upon your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel like you were floating; here, in this bed, with your darling dragon, tangled naked in the rumpled sheets of your marital bed.

“Because you don’t wish to deal with the hassle such an action will cause, beloved,” you reply, knowing that Daenerys would appreciate your insight. “You’ve already dealt with two wars in this infernal landscape as it is. There’s no reason to fight another so soon. Not so early into your reign.”

Tendrils of your hair curl around pale fingers, a soft look etched upon her face; an expression that Daenerys only leveled at you and Drogon. “So much knowledge hidden behind such a beautiful face.” She strokes your cheek, love speaking through every action and echoed in the look upon your own face. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, which is exactly why I wish to deal with those blasted mutts.” Her arm tightens around your naked form. “I don’t trust them, and I know they don’t trust me, nor do I think they’ll just let things go. They have a personal vendetta against me and I fear they’ll use you to rectify it.”

You nuzzle closer, comforted by your Khaleesi’s sweet scent. “We don’t know what the future may bring.” Some more than others. “But, I have hope that I’ll be protected.”

What was meant as a soothing gesture, an affirmation that Daenerys would always be able to keep you safe, seemed to have the complete opposite effect. Her pliable body going stiff against your own, hand halting its comforting movement, a sharpness entering her gaze.

“Dany?” You question, rising up onto your forearms to peer down at her. The silence settling over you like a thick blanket, a brooding entity that meant she was deep in thought, an elegant brow furrowed as she tried to corral her rampant thoughts. “What’s the matter?”

Finally, after another beat of tense silence, her eyes slip to meet your own. “Do you feel that confident with your security detail, ñuha perzys?”

“Yes?” Not understanding where this line of questioning was coming from you couldn’t help the slight lilt at the end of your answer. “Of course, I do.”

A stormy look falls across your wife’s face. “Really?” She straightens to lean against her pillow, now peering down at you. “You feel so confident when those very people almost got you killed by random mercenaries? I find that hard to believe.”

“I thought we went over this when it happened, Dany,” you sigh, finally sitting up to be on a more level field. Knowing now that you weren’t going to go back to snuggling anytime soon. “The two responsible for the oversight were dealt with, by your own hand if you recall, and the rest have more than made up for it. They won’t fail me or you again.”

“It was dealt with so swiftly due to my Captain straightening it out,” Daenerys snipes, arms crossed over her naked chest, the thin sheet having fallen around her hips sometime ago. “I don’t even want to imagine what those fools would have done without him.”

A small smile curls your lips. “Yes,” you agree. “Grey Worm did an excellent job at handling the situation. I’m thankful for his help and continued support.”

Your wife’s cheek twitches due to force in which she’s clenching her jaw, a sight that causes worry to bubble within your chest. Something had obviously set her off, but you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure it out. Leaning forward, you gently take Daenerys’ hand, releasing her white-knuckled grip on the sheet, and cradle it.

“But,” you continue, ensuring you maintained eye contact. “If it wasn’t for you, my darling dragon, I know that I would have been lost long ago. You’ve saved me from so much, Dany. You’re my constant protector, my most treasured companion, and my loving wife. I could never ask for, nor want, anyone else by my side, and I’m so thankful that I get to call you mine.”

The tender words, coupled by the unwavering sincerity in your voice, finally causes Daenerys to slacken, violet eyes going soft as a hint of embarrassment reddens her cheeks. Slim hands soon finding their way around your waist to pull you back into her embrace, head nestled in the crook of her neck, as she seems to simply breathe you in.

“I’m sorry, darling.” Warm breath ghosts across your skin, a phantom touch that raises the fine hairs on your arms. “I think the long days, coupled with being around boastful imbeciles constantly, has muddled my mind more than I would like.” Long fingers curl underneath your chin, tilting your head back just enough so you could see the beginnings of a smile curling full lips. “Even getting to the point where I thought you were hiding something from me.” Daenerys huffs out a laugh, clearly perplexed at herself, even as you feel your blood freeze in your veins. “And do you want to know the funniest thing?”

Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth, a suddenly dry throat trying desperately to make any sort of sound. “W-What?”

“I believed Grey Worm was in on it.” Daenerys rolls her eyes, scoffing. “I couldn’t help but notice how attentive he’s been of you as of late. Always being one step behind you at all times.” Lean arms, that hide a strength few were ever privy to, flex around your body, pulling you closer. “Can you believe I thought something was going on between you?”

Laughter bubbles in your throat at the outlandish insinuation — you could never want, or ask for, anyone else — but the strain around your eyes, as you desperately tried to keep it together, was apparent, but Daenerys, lost in her own thoughts, obviously trying to come to terms with how she could come to such a conclusion, didn’t notice.

You weren’t sure if that fact was fortunate or not.

Soon Daenerys, curled protectively around you, falls asleep, after a final whispered apology, her gentle breathing a soothing melody that you have grown to adore over the years you’ve spent in her bed. Normally, you’d be quick to follow your Khaleesi into the land of dreams, but her words, the thinly veiled accusations, the quickly shifted in self-deprecating jokes, kept the lull of oblivion from claiming your mind.

The very notion that you’d ever cheat on Daenerys was laughable — something that would never cross your mind, an annoying gnat that you simply swatted away without a second glance — but the knowledge that she believed you wouldn’t keep something from her unsettled you. Of course, you knew you had good reasoning behind your decision, but it still stung all the same; feeling like you were betraying your wife somehow.

Your wife didn’t have faith in many people — the ones she used to were either dead, imprisoned, or gone from her life in some other fashion — which left only a small handful left: Drogon, Grey Worm, and yourself.

The Summit will be over in three days. You just have to hold out for three more days.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force the thoughts, and the feelings they invoke, from your mind as you nuzzle closer to your wife; heart aching when she instantly brings you closer in response.

Just three more days, my love, you think, pressing closer. Three more days and then I can tell you the news that we’ve both been so desperate for. Just three more days…

It never seemed like such a large amount of time before.

Guilt, you learn, did not go well with pregnancy.

You weren’t able to be around Daenerys for long after that night — knowing what you did and what you were keeping from her — which was something that could easily be explained due to how hectic the daily life usually was in King’s Landing; now multiplied even further due to the Summit. Feigning different duties around the castle was simple, even if you missed your wife terribly during the long hours apart, that ache was easier to handle then the one that erupted every time you looked into her soft gaze.

The guilt, coupled with your own growing symptoms of your condition, caused your stomach to twist constantly, ensuring that you spent a large portion of the day keeled over a bucket with Grey Worm standing watch.

Of course, after the first day, when you only greeted Daenerys with a fleeting kiss to the cheek, and an airy greeting mixed soon after with a brief farewell, your wife began to grow concerned, her gaze often seeking you out within the crowded room of nobles and dignitaries. Uncaring of anyone that may be trying to talk to her, her attention focused solely on you alone, something you wouldn’t normally mind, except for the simple fact that you’d sing like a canary if she leveled you with inquisitive look one more time.

You hadn’t come this far to mess up on the last day of the Summit; the final meeting being hosted in the Dragon Pit, recently reconstructed to an echo of its former glory. Although your darling son refused to even grace the structure with his presence unless it was to deliver you and Daenerys.

“Are you feeling well, Your Grace?” The familiar presence settled a half-step behind you, his accented voice a relief over the miasma of varying conversations that were occurring as people prepared to head over to the Dragon Pit. “Do you require anything?”

“No,” you reply, side-stepping an obviously over encumbered stable hand, as you spot the hulking obsidian mass that was Drogon; the people unfortunate enough to have left their things where he decided to land were scuttling around him like frantic ants, his own expression one of boredom if it was ever possible for a reptilian face to showcase such an emotion. “I’ll be fine for now. Thank you, Grey.”

At the sound of your approaching voice, Drogon swings his head in your direction, crimson eyes lighting up in recognition, as a gentle croon rumbles from deep within his chest. The people around him pause their activities, afraid that he may lunge any second, but your son didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, he lowered his head to give you easy access to scratch the underside of his chin, pebbled scales warm against your cool fingers.

“I’ve missed you too.” You smooth your hand out against his jaw, an adoring smile on your face. “Need to make sure that I carve out more time to see you in the future.”

You can’t even begin to imagine how lonely he must feel — what was once three was now only one — if the ache in your chest was anything to go by it must be difficult; something you didn’t wish for your son to go through alone.

A son, you quickly notice, that was now pressing his snout against your stomach, a low rumble sounding from deep within his throat, not unlike the croon he released earlier, but this, coupled with the protective glint in his fiery gaze, made you understand, with perfect clarity, that Drogon knew. That he had no doubt about the life you were now carrying.

“I know that you and your mama have this special connection,” you whisper, scratching his jaw. “Like the one that I shared with Viserion, but you can’t give her any hints about what you’ve discovered.” Crimson eyes flicker in understanding, his intelligence shining through. “Do you think you’ll be able to hold your protective instincts back for the day, Drogon?”

You knew, even as you asked, that it would be like asking Daenerys the same exact thing. Something that causes your stomach to twist once more. You could play off Grey Worm’s presence and increased vigilance, as he had been appointed to your guard until competent ones were found, but Drogon? Your wife would instantly be able to tell that something was happening, and it probably wouldn’t take her any time at all to discover what it was.

Which meant that you wouldn’t be able to fly with Daenerys to the Dragon Pit; something you had been looking forward to as it’d give you a chance to be with your wife, soaring over the city she had claimed, and may cause the growing suspicion to die within her gaze.

“Ready to go, ñuha perzys?” Daenerys’ lovely voice causes you to startle, wide eyes meeting her questioning one. “I believe we’ll be able to do a few laps around King’s Landing before the first people arrive at the Dragon Pit.” A charming smile catches your wife’s lips. “Giving us a chance to spend time with one another. I’ve missed you the last few days.”

The genuine statement causes your heart to twist, your stomach lurching, but you maintain your smile, hoping that you didn’t look as faint as you felt. “I was actually thinking of taking Nox.” You gesture to the dark stallion, his large stature easily seen over the fences of his stable. “Grey Worm has been meaning to show me something, and it’s on the way to the Dragon Pit, so I thought I’d just do both at once.”

While the genial smile doesn’t fall from Daenerys’ lips, the fire behind her eyes grows with intensity until it’s almost scalding across your skin. “Grey Worm?” At the mention of his name from his Queen’s mouth, the aforementioned man steps from his place in the shadows. Forever dutiful, even if it meant walking straight into the gaping maw of a dragon. “You wish to go with Grey Worm instead of me?”

Any other time the incredulous tone within your wife’s voice, causing it to turn almost shrill, would have made you chuckle, but you could see the darkness that was beginning to become apparent — one that had a propensity to turn lethal if it wasn’t dealt with appropriately — and you wanted nothing more than to chase those shadows away; to bring your wife back into the light.

Just a few more hours, you try to soothe yourself. Just a few more hours and this will all be behind you. You’ll be able to tell Dany and everything will right itself.

“Yes,” you reply, maintaining an air of obliviousness in hopes that Daenerys wouldn’t press the issue further. “Besides, I’ve been meaning to let Nox stretch his legs for some time now. You know how Dothraki horses can be, Dany. They’ll only get more irritable the longer they’re cooped up.”

Violet eyes shift from you, to Grey Worm, all the way to the aforementioned stallion across the courtyard, until they land back on you; the expression on her face made you glad that this would be the last day of the Summit, because you know that Daenerys was at the end of her patience, that she wouldn’t let you get away with this one. For now, as the sounds of various voices finally broke in through the haze of everything untold, and Daenerys allows herself to shift back into her queenly stature.

Even though, you knew, that it’d only take one more thing for the bow to break, and then nothing would keep her from finding the answers she’s seeking.

“Very well.” Her tone clipped, detached in a way that stings your heart, Daenerys easily mounts Drogon and stares down at you. “I hope that your journey to the Dragon Pit is fruitful, but do be prepared for the discussions that’ll take place once we return to the Keep.”

And, with those parting words, and one last gentle nudge from Drogon, Daenerys is in the air, soaring higher into the sky until she breaches the clouds. You wish, more than anything, you were with her and your son, but you know that this was the right course of action. Even if it felt like it was the absolute worst.

Grey Worm settles beside you. “I wasn’t aware there would be more talks after the meeting held at the Dragon Pit.”

“There isn’t.” Your stomach twists, meeting concerned brown eyes with a grim expression. “That was a direct summons for me, and only me, by my darling wife.”

The heavy doors of your bedchamber close with a sharp bang behind you, a sound that almost causes you to flinch if it wasn’t for the woman watching you from across the room garnering all of your attention instantly. Daenerys had already changed out of her court attire — wearing a simple dress instead of the black ensemble she had been wearing, the very one she had worn upon conquering King’s Landing — but she looked anything but relaxed.

“You’ve been avoiding me, dearest.” It’s not a question, simply a statement of fact, as Daenerys stalks towards you. “And I’ve been trying to figure out why. Why would my darling wife not wish to be in my presence? Why would my most cherished companion not wish to see me?” She’s closer now, close enough for you to see the rage that’s beginning to build in her slim form. “And do you know what I uncovered? The only possible reason I could come up with?”

You’re not going to like this. “What?”

“Guilt,” Daenerys snarls, lips pulling into a sneer. It’s clear she was trying to rein herself in, that her famous temper wished to unleash itself, but, even now, when she was at her breaking point, she’d never wish to turn it on you. Something that both breaks and reassembled your heart. “You’re guilty about something. To the point that you practically reek with it now. Of course, I truly don’t know what you could feel guilty about, until I remembered the conversation we had a few nights ago.”

Oh no…

She’s pacing in front of you now, a short line that doesn’t take her too far from you, but gave enough room to excise some of the energy bubbling within her. “A conversation wherein I explicitly told you that I believed you and Grey Worm were hiding something from me. Where you told me that I didn’t have to worry.” The sharpness in her tone, the accusation within her eyes, were like physical blows. “So, I truly don’t know what to believe. Should I believe my wife, who’s been pulling away from me, or should I believe my gut instinct and deal with the problem immediately?”

Your eyes snap to look at Daenerys, horror-stricken. “Deal with the problem? What in the Seven Hells do you mean by the that, Daenerys?” Stepping closer to your wife, when she doesn’t answer immediately, you can’t help the desperate lilt from entering your voice. “What have you done to Grey Worm? Did you do something to him? Answer me!”

“Begging for your lovers life already?” Anger twists her face, shrouding the deep love you know she has for you. “I haven’t done anything, but make no mistake that it means I won’t. I’m going to make that man remember that when you swear fealty to House Targaryen it’s for life, and there isn’t any room for dissenters.”

Lover?

An even more horrific realization strikes you like an arrow to the chest.

“You think he’s my lover?” Barring the complications that would already bring due to the environment Grey was raised in, you couldn’t even begin to comprehend him in that manner. Nor could you ever imagine wanting anyone else beside your wife. “No, Dany, no.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and move to settle on the end of your bed. This wasn’t how you wanted to tell her — over a nice dinner, after a nice ride on Drogon, or simply curled up together in this very bed — but you had created this situation and now you had to go with where it’s led you. Looking up, taking note that Daenerys had trailed after you, a gentle smile curls your lips and you beckon your wife closer.

“Grey Worm isn’t my lover, Dany. Nor will he ever be. I know that things have been tense these last few days, but I never wish for you to think that I’d ever be unfaithful to you.” Taking her hand, you tug her pliant body closer, even if you could still see the tension within the rigidity of her shoulders. “You are, and will forever be, my first, my last, and my always.” You place a tender kiss to her clothed abdomen, leaning into her comforting warmth. “Why would I ever want anyone else when I have my Khaleesi?”

Slender fingers run through your hair, the familiar motion allowing your eyes to slip shut contentment. “Then what has been going on, ñuha perzys? You haven’t been yourself and I still have half a mind to take Grey Worm to the dungeons to get him to answer me.”

Looking up, resting your chin on her abdomen, you peer into the violet gaze that you adore. “You’re not going to do anything to Grey Worm, Daenerys. He hasn’t done anything except be a good friend to me and faithfully serve me to the best of his ability.” Standing up, you easily maneuver Daenerys to settle in the position you had just been in, now looking down at your beautiful wife. “Which is something you’ve desperately wanted for me, if I recall.”

“Not if it means that I’m kept in the dark about you.”

The petulant pout causes a tender expression to fall across your features, love and adoration sparking within your heart, as you look at the woman that could turn the world to ash in an instant melting into your gentle touch. And, in that moment, you knew it was time.

So, without preamble, you take one of her hands and gently place it on your abdomen in return. “I didn’t wish to tell you until the Summit was over because it was too important to screw up, and I’m well aware how you get when my health is involved.” Your fingers ghost across her sharp jawline, watching as the beginning of her understanding begins to spark within her gaze. “Add our unborn child’s health too? The Summit would have ended like a Dothraki Wedding if you had your way, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

There’s a beat of silence wherein Daenerys digests the news, a multitude of emotions flickering across her face, before complete and utter jubilation takes its prominent spot.

“You’re pregnant?” Her hand presses gently against the spot you had placed it, wanting to get closer to the life that lay within. “We’re going to be parents?”

You grin. “We’re having a baby, Dany.”

Before you know it, you’re wrapped in the tightest embrace Daenerys had ever given you, happy tears staining the skin of your neck as she nuzzles closer. You’re well aware that she was going to have a talk with you about your secrecy at a later date, especially given the fact that Grey Worm knew before her, but, for now, she was content in simply holding you in her arms, the both of you sharing in the happiness the moment brought.

“Drogon won’t be alone anymore.” Violet eyes look down at your abdomen with utmost affection. “He’ll finally have a sibling again.”

You press your forehead against hers. “The dragons will be returning to Westeros, my Khaleesi, and the skies will once again be filled with dragon song.”

“And everyone will know the power of House Targaryen.”

“Yes,” you murmur, pressing your lips to hers in a chaste embrace. “As well as the woman who leads them.”

“The women,” Daenerys gently corrects. “For I’d still be lost if I didn’t have my darling Queen by my side.”

“And I’d never know that I was cold without the gentle flame of your love keeping me warm.” You lean into her touch, pressing your bodies firmly together. “You brought me to life, Dany, and I’ll never take the love you’ve given me for granted.”

Daenerys smiles. “Together we will bring back what has been stolen from my family, we will right the wrongs that have plagued this land, and we’ll ensure that our children will be able to reap the benefits once we’re done.” She smooths her hand across your abdomen. “Even if it means Fire and Blood will be paid in penance to make it happen.”

“Together.”

For one couldn’t be without the other — the Khaleesi and her Queen — as it always should be.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad and Belly beach scene but it’s reader instead of Belly. They kiss and it’s emotional and I was really hoping their would kiss! So happy she and Jere didn’t!

The beach scene had me screaming!! They finally used snow on the beach <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Leave me alone,’’ you slurred, your back turned to Conrad as you watched the waves crash over your feet. 

Coming to the beach in your intoxicated state was far from wise — an outright perilous choice. However, reason and prudence had abandoned you at this moment, too drunk to properly think.

‘’I can’t,’’ he responded. 

His footfalls reached you, his presence palpable and audible in the water. Without preamble, Conrad hoisted you over his shoulder like a potato sack and took you out of the ocean.  

‘’No! Conrad! Put me down,’’ you demanded the moment your feet left the ground. ‘’Just put me down.’’ 

‘’You’re drunk.’’

‘’Put me down!’’ You hit at his back as he walked up the beach.

‘’I’m not gonna put you down.’’

‘’Conrad, let go!’’ 

He did, letting you down on the sand ungracefully. 

You glared at him and dusted the sand off your shorts. ‘’Just go.’’ 

He extended his hand to help, but you smacked him off. ‘’I’m not leaving you.’’

Those next words would never have come out if you hadn’t drunk so much of the bottle left forgotten in the sand.

‘’But you already did,’’ you let slip, standing up with a little bit of struggle. You felt tears coming as you looked at Conrad, memories of that night coming back in flashes. ‘’Why didn’t you tell me you went to Jeremiah about us? Why?!’’ 

When he showed up to your house in October, all he said was that Jeremiah had moved on and was seeing other people. He didn’t tell you that he asked for his brother’s blessing despite knowing how hurt Jeremiah was about the situation. Coming from someone who never talked to anybody about his feelings, it meant a lot to you that he talked to Jeremiah. He fought for you. He was serious about you.

‘’I don’t know!’’ Conrad blurted in response, genuinely not knowing why he kept this from you. 

‘’If I had known that you had done that, that you cared that much about me and about us— If I had known, then I would have fought for you.’’ Tears blurred your vision, distorting his image.

Conrad looked down at you confusedly. ‘’What do you mean?’’ 

‘’I mean I would have fought for us. At prom, and at the funerals…’’ A tear slipped down your face, but you didn’t wipe it. ���’And I would have been there for you through everything.’’ A sob left your lips, your heart breaking over the boy you swore you would never cry for again. 

‘’I thought you knew. I thought you knew,’’ Conrad repeated, his deeply buried feelings starting to come through his walls. ‘’From the moment we kissed on the beach I thought you knew.’’

‘’Why did you throw it all away? Why, Connie?’’ You reached for him, then pushed him away, undecided if you wanted him to hold you in his arms or to hit his chest in anger. ‘’I…I thought that we loved each other.’’

‘’We did,’’ he confessed for the first time, swallowing thickly. ‘’I still do.’’ 

Tears welled up in Conrad's eyes as he looked at you, his defenses crumbling under the weight of his emotions. The tension in the salt air was palpable, a mixture of regret, longing, and the weight of unspoken words hung between you.

‘’Then why, Conrad?’’ you choked out, your voice trembling. ‘’Why did you let me end things? Why did you get in your car at my prom? Why didn’t you fight for us?’’

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek gently. You didn't pull away, torn between the anger you felt and the overwhelming surge of emotions that his confession had stirred within you. 

‘’Because I didn’t want to be a burden to you. I kept disappointing you…’’ 

Conrad did disappoint you on prom night, but not for the reasons he thought. You didn’t care about the corsage or if he wasn’t in the mood to dance all night. You would have settled for just a few dances if that’s all he was able to give you. His head was elsewhere and you understood that. Yours would be too if your mother was terribly sick and approaching her last days.

You wanted to tell him that, but you were drunk and standing way too close to Conrad to make any rational decisions…so you closed the remaining space between you and kissed him.

—

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[lokisgoodgirl]

Harvest: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (7) Fresh off Loki's revelation, its time to save Colin Robertson. Oh...and some other things too, I guess. Warnings: Minors DNI. Ex-Loki (?) Language. Mild angst. Plans and smug rehashing of plans. Soft smut. Domestic fluff. Sassy Satchel. (w/c 6.2k) Recommended Folklore Track: Invisible String

Despite protestations, Steve had set up a perimeter and concocted a list of bird-themed call-signs. He walked thirty meters ahead of you and Loki.

Every ten paces, the captain spun in a shifty circle and beckoned you on. “Oh, for goodness sake,” Loki grumbled as he re-hoisted a limp Colin Robertson across his shoulders. The man was drooling on him.

Thor brought up the rear of the rudimentary formation, ambling at the back with his hands in his pockets. The hat was still drawn low over his brow. “He feels awful,” you muttered. “As he should,” Loki said stiffly. “Thanks to him, this mortal finds himself at the mercy of another of his cunning plans. A perilous state indeed.” “You care,” you mumbled with a gentle smile. Loki narrowed his eyes playfully. “I shall have to dial it back a little, lest I become soft.” “Not much chance of that,” you whispered to yourself. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Loki smile.

From ahead, Steve released a strangled caw.

“What one’s that?” Loki drawled. The tap of Colin’s dead-weight hand sounded against his back with every step.

You frowned, looking around. “People? Aircraft? I can’t remember.” “The car.” Loki said flatly, pointing to a bright blue blob in the distance. From behind them, a crunch of running footsteps approached. “Almost time for the commencement of the plan, brother.” “It’s a terrible plan.” Loki snipped. Thor rolled his eyes. “Ye of little faith,” he rumbled confidently. Ten minutes later, the five of you hung in various stages inside and outside the Fiat 500. Rogers had pushed the front seat as far forward as it would go, climbing in to the back. Loki was positioned already behind the passenger side, crammed against the wall. “Just put him in the trunk,” Loki chided for the fourth time. “Oh pish, Laufeyson” Steve snapped. “The man could have a spinal injury.” Loki threw up his hands in resignation.

You leant against the bonnet, one of Colin’s arms draped over your shoulder. The other hung around Thor. The man drooped between you like a scarecrow. “Places,” Steve announced confidently before his face lowered and he sidestepped into the Fiat backseat. All you heard were huffs from Loki as Rogers shuffled into the middle. It was going to be tight. You and Thor moved forwards, ignoring the sad drag of Colin’s walking boots on the dirt track. With a little manoeuvring, the hiker was deposited in the back seat. His face smooshed against the window, faint clouds of condensation forming on the glass.

“God, I wish I had my phone.” you murmured to Thor as you drank in the absurd sight. Loki was staring pointedly out the window, shoulders scrunched to take up as little space as possible. Rogers face had flushed, hoiking the unconscious man further on his side.

Thor chuckled, gripping the open door. He leant towards you conspiratorially. “Gird thy loins, sister” he hummed. You grimaced. The passenger seat was as far forward as it could go, with Thor’s knees drawn up to his chest.

You sighed as you slid into the drivers side. The muscled pressure of Loki’s legs protruded through the back of your seat. You cleared your throat, fiddling with the radio. “You do realise, that if the police stop us then we’re up shit-” “-crud,” Steve cut. “-crud creek without a paddle?” Loki snorted with genuine laughter. You bit your lip, realising that just maybe everything was going to be alright. And not just for Colin. “Onward!” Thor boomed. Everyone groaned, covering their ears.

You drove cautiously through winding one track lanes. The hedgerows were in full autumnal blossom now. Gold and burnt orange foliage simmered in speckled sunlight. In the back seat, Colin was stirring. “We don’t have much time,” Steve’s worried voice chimed. He stroked Colin’s cheek. “It’s alright, pal. We’ll get ya where you’re going.” In the rear-view mirror, you saw Loki throw him an incredulous scowl.

“Ye Olde Fighting Cocks,” Thor read as the swinging pub sign grew closer. He laughed to himself, slapping his knee and almost hitting his face on the rebound. “Just like us, brother.” In the back seat, Loki scoffed. “Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered. You pulled into the carpark. It was busier than you would like. “Okay, just like we talked about,” Steve started. “Thor – you commandeer a table outside. Away from any hubbub. Agent, you’re on drinks duty. Loki and I will position Mr Robertson and get the heck outta there.” Everyone mumbled agreement. It wasn’t perfect, but it was visible. And it beat leaving him on a hillside. Thor pulled his hat down, stuffing errant strands of sandy hair inside. He produced a pair of chunky sunglasses from the glovebox.

“Avengers…” he began with gravitas.

“Don’t.” Steve snapped.

As it transpired, the only hubbub in the beer-garden was an old man stubbing out a cigarette by the entrance. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Thor’s bobble hat poked over the hedge. You quickly made yourself scarce, walking inside the tavern and collecting as many glasses as you could covertly carry.

Sidling between tables of chattering locals, you squinted out a passing window. Thor was leaning awkwardly against a picnic bench. You saw a flash of movement in the bushes behind him as Steve and Loki emerged, shuffling forward in a squat position. Colin dragged between them. They hoisted him to sit at the table, flipping his legs over the bench. He slumped forwards. The last thing you saw was Thor attempting to prop a fist under his chin. He failed Sliding out the front door, you made your way quickly over to the scene and plopped seven glasses on the surface. “Let’s go,” you said. “Where is the ale?” Thor said, face falling. “We’re not staying, buffoon” Loki scathed as the four of you made your way quickly back to the car. “That defeats the entire purpose.” Thor pouted all the way home.

You had walked ahead from the driveway to the cottage door with your heart in your mouth. It had been a tense ride.

All you could hear behind you was Loki’s hushed overtones requesting privacy from the others.

Noting the tremble in your hands, you unlocked and walked inside. Keep it together, you chided as you slipped into the kitchen and sat at the table, fidgeting. The front door opened. It closed with a creak and a thunk. You tried to steady your breaths as Loki hung up his jacket before rounding the corner, smoothing his hair while he looked at the floor. Suddenly your fingernails became very interesting.

His towering figure occupied your periphery, hovering before he sat in the opposite chair. Looking up, your eyes met his. You offered a weak smile. Loki cleared his throat.

The chair leg squeaked. "I want to be myself. My core self. The one that swells in my roots, I suppose you would say." he said abruptly. The words were quick and cold. "That's what I was attempting to convey... back on the hill."

He seemed nervous. You didn't think you'd ever seen Loki nervous. It made you nervous. He cleared his throat again, features softening. “What I have come to realise” he continued carefully, brushing crumbs from the tablecloth, “is that being with you...I often felt like that boy at the cabin.” He looked at you, tilting his head. His mind was a million miles away, but somehow – it was the closest you had ever been to him. “Except I didn’t know what it was,” he continued wistfully.

“I felt safe. Free. It felt...strange. I fought against it, with my arrogance and my selfishness. Like a dog in a trap, I fought against it with the only tools I had.” You looked down at your hands again, heart sinking. “A trap?”

Loki sighed. “I cannot pertain to the logic. Only my feelings. It was self-preservation. Or so I thought.” “It sounds like self-sabotage to me,” you murmured gently, pressing your thumb into your palm. “Yes.” was all Loki said.

After a few moments he stood.

You braced as he took a step forwards, sinking slowly to sit on his haunches. Your gaze swung to his thighs, thick and straining against the creases of his trousers. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect,” he murmured. There was a pause while the weight of his considerations hung in the air. “But for you, I would do anything in my power. You know that, don’t you?” Tears began to prick your eyes. You swallowed, words coming out as a tremble. “I never wanted you to be perfect, Loki. I only wanted to feel like we were equals.” Loki slipped his fingers into your open palm. “I know that feeling,” he crooned sadly, drawing your hand down. He stroked the skin, looking at it like it might evaporate in his hold.

A gentle press of his lips warmed your wrist. “Am I being presumptuous that you might consider a fresh start between us?” he said tentatively, raising his gaze to meet yours through a dark fan of lashes. “As your ‘girlfriend’?” you questioned. A smile twitched. Was this really happening? Your heart was thundering. “No, Madam” Loki scoffed playfully. “My consort of course.” Your smile grew wider. Loki pursed his lips, brows rising in expectation as he ran his nervous stare over your features. You bit your lip, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. But there was none. And somehow, you knew there wouldn’t be.

The hand not being held by his slid up the curve of his jaw. You lowered, pausing by his parted lips. The god’s breath hitched.

“Loki,” you pleaded, no more than a whisper.

His name held weight when you said it like that.

In an instant, Loki closed the space between you, his mouth fastening to yours with a gasp.

Without breaking the kiss he rose, pulling you with him.

His hands cupped your face, fingertips pressing into your hair while his tongue cautiously caressed against your own. It was pure fire, twisting and scorching the path of troubles behind you.

Your knees caught against the chair as he tried to walk you backwards, making you both stumble.

He broke, panting. “Apologies,” he muttered, catching his breath as his large hand centred on your back.

You looped your arms around his neck, memorising the look of abject relief in his eyes. Kissing him softly, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth. Loki’s eyes narrowed, a subconscious thrust of his hips against your stomach making your vision blur. “We should probably let them in now,” you said ruefully, glancing sideways to the closed door. “I was hoping you couldn’t hear them,” Loki sighed. ‘Damn you and your heavy breathing, Rogers’ Thor chided behind the peeling wood. Loki reached for the handle, a quick turn and release causing Steve and his brother to sprawl forwards face-first to the linoleum.

Rogers sat up quickly, brushing himself down as his guilty eyes swung between you. “It was his idea,” he said as he nodded to Thor. “How very dare you,” Thor boomed. “The God of Thunder does not sneak.” “Ain’t that the truth,” Steve snapped.

The two of them stood, awkwardly picking at their clothes. Around the same time, their eyes fell on the space between you and Loki. Thor’s arm shot out, the back of his hand slapping against Steve’s chest.

Their gazes widened in sync. “Holding...hands?” Thor gasped. He and Steve gaped at one another. Suddenly the entire kitchen became a hive of screeches as the two men grasped on to the others biceps, jumping in a circle.

You started to laugh, hearing Loki’s embarrassed chuckle beside you. “Why are they so happy?” you murmured to him. Loki shook his head. “My brother had a cunning plan, you see” he said as he raised your interlinked fingers with a knowing smile. “Hold up,” Steve interjected. His serious face was back. “I gotta take some credit considering it was my idea, Odinson.”

Thor laughed mirthlessly, throwing his head back with a shake of his hair. “I think not, Rogers. If anything your contributions were the seasoning.” “Seasoning?”” Steve balked. “It was my idea to get them up here in the first place.” Thor released a grimacing smile. He patted Steve on the back. “Perhaps now is not the time,” he muttered as covertly as a fart in an elevator.

You yelped as Loki sat at the dining table, pulling you onto his lap. “No, I think now is most definitely the time” he purred as he linked his fingers around your stomach. You’d forgotten how solid his thighs were. Almost. Steve’s cheeks flushed. “Well, uh…you see, it started way back when uh-” “-Well,” Thor interrupted. “Apologies, Rogers – but the tale requires gravitas.” Steve rolled his eyes, as the god continued. “Around two months ago when your incessant moods had reached peak insufferability, I invoked Rogers aid in a minor detail of the piece-”

“-I bought this place,” Steve butted sharply. “Well, Stark did.” You and Loki looked at each other, frowning. “We figured you guys needed to get away somewhere neutral. Something official to force your hand. Back to basics, somewhere Laufeyson could be pushed out of his comfort zone with a range of activities he felt were-” “-Beneath you, brother” Thor quipped smugly. “And in tandem with my cunning plan, it was fool-proof.”

The two of them folded their arms, their facial expressions hinting that they had explained everything. “Yes? And?” Loki probed lazily. The breath from his words flooded your ear, lips ghosting the shell. You wondered if he was listening. He placed an absent-minded kiss at the tip of your cheekbone, nuzzling gently. “From there it was quite simple, really- for a fellow like myself” Thor postured, looping his thumbs through his belt.

Loki rolled his eyes as his brother’s smug voice boomed around the kitchen. “One of the many times you fell asleep on my sofa after a night of ale and moaning about blowing it with this one” Thor thumbed to you; “you were mumbling about the cabin.” “I was?” Loki asked. Thor nodded. “And it made me ponder what you were like back then. The same, but different. Not as much of a little shit. I thought it was time you needed a more targeted reminder – for all our sakes. In a place like this, a place like the cabin. Kind of.”

You felt Loki inhale sharply, priming a barb. But he let it go. You felt the tension melt against your back as his hands clasped tighter in your lap. “Oh brother, I thought you’d really arsed it up with that stunt on our second evening” Thor chuckled, nudging Steve in the ribs.

“But your denial was rather a boon, Agent. A catalyst which timed well with Rogers and myself's light exploration of his foils earlier that night. Commendations, sister, for resisting my brother’s seductions. His cock is a wily adversary, I am sure.” You smirked as Loki’s inaudible laughter pulsed against your back. You’d missed this. “Tell them about the fire,” Steve whispered shyly. Thor’s eyes lit up.

“Ah, well...Rogers here had the rather genius idea of luring you both to the fireside. Nothing fans the flames like...well, flames. My brother has always been a lush for elemental theatrics.” Steve beamed with pride while your eyebrows rose. “And destroying my room and all my stuff was…?” The question lingered as Thor shuffled awkwardly. “Collateral damage, sister. We needed you out of that bedroom. I may have slightly overdone it.” “We thought you were ready,” Steve added. “I signalled with the flashlight when I thought the ol’ heart-to-heart had done the business and then…”

He and Thor nodded sagely to each other. “So were the two of you like...monitoring us?” you asked, glancing at Loki who was blushing faintly. “Of course!” Thor boomed. “The two of you were the true field operation. Well, in a roundabout sort of way.” Loki burrowed his face in the curve of your neck, a smile spreading against the skin. “What about the two of you?” Loki purred, resting his chin on your shoulder. “All smoke and mirrors like the rest?” Thor flapped his hand in the air as Steve bristled. “You need not know the details, brother.” he blustered. “What matters in that you stayed in that room. With her.” Steve’s face was a deep shade of crimson. “It had to be realistic,” he muttered, scuffing his shoe on the floor. “We got ya!” he added weakly. “So is what he’s saying...true?” you asked Loki. “Did it work?” Loki chuckled, bouncing one leg as he considered his answer. You jiggled, gripping his bicep for balance. He shot the men standing shoulder-to-shoulder above him a sharp glare.

“From the wreckage of my brother’s tenuous plot I did scavenge a solitary golden thread of wisdom, yes.” Thor released one of his arms from the fold, pointing a fist to the captain. Steve shook it. “I owe you ten bucks, Odinson” he said ruefully. “You owe me more than that, Rogers.” Thor winked. Steve cast an anxious glance to you and Loki, acknowledging your bemused smiles with a curt nod. He cleared his throat. “Time for us to make tracks,” he said.

You frowned. “But Steve, we have like... two more days here.” Thor laughed, doubling over. Rogers shook his head. “You have two more days here. We are going to the spa.” “The spa?” Loki spat incredulously. “Without me?!”

Thor shrugged. “If you wish to join Rogers and I for an ‘erbal wrap and sauna privileges you are most welcome to brother.” He tracked his gaze to you, sitting on Loki’s lap. “But something tells me you’d rather stay here,” he added softly.

Loki’s face burrowed into your neck again, nose grazing your collarbone. “Quite,” he murmured. It was meant only for you. In the following twenty minutes the blondes made quick work of packing their belongings. You helped Thor locate his various nick-knacks, strewn clothes and hair mousses; passing each of them in turn as he leant his bodyweight on a second suitcase.

The captain’s bags were stacked neatly in the corner. He was frowning at the tower. “I feel like I’m forgetting something,” he murmured, stroking his chin.

“The crisper,” you said, trying not to laugh. Steve’s cheeks flushed as your eyes fell involuntarily to his butt. “Been enjoying the freedom, Cap?” you giggled, tossing another bottle to Thor.

When the last suitcase had been stuffed into the beleaguered Fiat, the blondes returned inside. You and Loki had stood at the doorway of the cottage, watching them. It was meditative. Winding curls of burnt orange ivy rustled in the air. There was no rush.

You turned your face, brushing your cheek against the wool of Loki’s jumper. He rested his chin on your head.

As they approached, you pulled away from the god and let your fingers trail longingly over his stomach as you sank back to the hallway. Loki winked, a small smile flirting at his lip. The warmth flooding your skin could be magic, you were sure. But something told you it wasn’t.

Thor tugged the sides of his jacket. “I take it this highly successful endeavour means that you will be of more pleasant humour to everyone then,” he chuckled.

“Regrettably, for the foreseeable future I shall be targeting my efforts of self-improvement to our darling Agent, here.” Loki purred, zipping his brother’s jacket up over his mouth. “I’m sure you understand it’s a process.” “Just consider me your spiritual Sherpa, brother-” Thor continued un-phased against the muffler. “And Rogers too, to a lesser extent.” “The day I consider that, is the day I may be claimed by the sanatorium, brother” Loki smiled dryly.

“So you’re still gonna be a boob to the rest of us? That wasn't part of the deal,” Steve whined, releasing a low whistle of discontent. Loki shrugged. “Apologies, gentleman.” he smarmed, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. He tipped forward earnestly. “Although when it comes to mocking you both; I will do my utmost not to pick up the gauntlets of temptation you throw so effortlessly down.” The three of them looked between each other.

“Excellent!” Steve chirped, shuffling sideways between you and Loki. You followed as he rounded the corner to the kitchen. Making immediately for the fridge, the captain un-balled a Tesco carrier bag from his pocket. Leaning against the door-frame, you watched as Captain America gingerly slid open the crisper. His lips pursed, pressing inward. It was all you could do not to fall to the floor. He reached in, carefully picking out each pair of underwear and slipping them into the plastic bag.

“I can see you,” he grit, throwing a knowing look over his shoulder. “And I would appreciate if the events of this trip stayed between the four of us.”

“Come, Rogers!” Thor boomed as he snuck up behind you, drawing you into a bear hug. You thrashed against his chest, before sinking with a relenting sigh into his hold. “Sister,” he whispered gruffly through a smile as Steve bustled past to the car. “I couldn’t be happier for you both.”

Loki gave a final wave as his brother and Rogers drove away down the rickety path. Thor’s hair whipped around his temples, the window fully rolled down and his head sticking out. Loki smiled, chortling softly as he closed the door.

In the kitchen, he could hear mugs clinking.

He straightened the front of his jumper, tucking his hair behind his ears. “Right…” he breathed quietly. Loki paced cautiously into the kitchen, memorising the way the low amber sunlight bathed your skin.

A goddess, he thought. “My goddess,” he said.

You turned, surprise peaking your brows before you smiled. “Hey,” you murmured shyly. It made his stomach flip. Wiping your hands on the dishcloth, you turned. Without stopping to think, Loki strode forward and kissed you.

He didn’t want to think anymore. Not today. His tongue slipped easily between your lips, the only sound the careful wax and wane of delicate skin and the melody of gentle moans. His fingers curled around the counter-lip, caging your body as your hands slid up his sweater, tugging. There was a quiet groan as you pulled away, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you said. There was a look in your eye Loki thought he would never see again. His stomach did another turn. “Oh. Of course,” he muttered politely, standing back. Fingers slid down the chunky knit of his arm, grazing over his hand. They toyed with his own as you began to walk to the door, throwing a seductive glance back over your shoulder. “Come with me?” Loki’s breath hitched. “I’ll be right behind you,” he murmured. He was sure the tremor of his racing heart could be heard in his voice. “I’d prefer face-to-face,” you winked before disappearing into the hall. Loki’s mouth gaped. The god heard the creak of the bathroom door, the thick splash as water hit the tub from on high. It’s happening, he thought; amazed.

In this unfamiliar landscape stripped of all ornament. In the wreckage of his brother’s clumsy attempts at mischief, he had found what his heart had been search for; slipping against walls of his cluttered mind. A second chance. Loki did some quick calculations, finding his feet drawing him already up the stairs. He was certain that you weren’t on birth control, he remembered hushed whispers overheard between you and Wanda months prior. At the time, it had made him very happy indeed. He was even more certain he didn’t wish to enchant you – that was a conversation for a later time.

Nerves fizzed in his stomach as he pushed open the doorway to his brother and Rogers room. Where are they? Loki cursed every creaking footstep as he picked his way around the room, but what he sought was nowhere to be seen. Steve had stripped the bedsheets, leaving them folded in military position at the foot of the bed. The god peered beneath pillows, under the mattresses. He frowned. A minute later, he pushed the door of his own room ajar. And there, on the pillow, was a box.

A yellow post-it note was stuck jauntily to the centre. Loki whipped it up with a flourishing snap, holding it at arms length as he peered down. A gift, it read. Love you Little Brother, Thor :) xx x “I bought them,” Loki grumbled, picking up the box.

It was open.

He pulled out a set, splitting them in two as he released a quaking sigh. Tossing the chosen one on the bed, he slipped the extra back in its home. Nine remained.

We might need to go to that shop again, Loki mused as he picked up the solitary condom on the bed. He held it up to eye-level, thumb pressed against the foil centre as he steadied himself. “Loki?” you cooed from downstairs. Your voice was an angelic echo, misting through tile and steam. He shuddered, cock pulsing against his trousers. He made his way carefully down the steps, memorising the way the wooden banister glided and caught against his skin. If I could live in a memory, Loki pondered as his fingers pressed against the ajar bathroom door, it would be this one.

Rich golden sunlight flooded the room from the tiny window. The ageing white tiles and fittings were perfected in its amber glow, porcelain glinting with an asgardian sheen under nature’s filter. Behind the shower curtain, you were humming; a splatter of water from your wet hair hitting the base. Loki cleared his throat.

Your face appeared, clutching the thin shower curtain by your chest. You were smiling, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Is the beige a permanent feature of your wardrobe now? Because if it is then I may need to rethink this whole thing.”

Loki’s arms crossed immediately, tugging the cable-knit over his head. It caught beneath his ears, the tinkle of your laugh singing against falling water. After a few seconds, the jumper was discarded by his ankles.

The god’s fingers flew to his belt, making quick work of the fastenings and pushing them to his feet. He hopped out of them, standing with a sudden flourish; shoulders rolled back. You looked from the pile on the floor to his eyes, one brow raised. “The old-fashioned way huh? That’s a first.” Loki cocked his chin. He bit his lip, enjoying the track of your gaze rolling hungrily down his naked body. One finger appeared from behind the shower-curtain, beckoning. With a heavy exhale, he stepped over the bath wall.

His cock slapped against his stomach, smacking the taut skin. You stood beneath the shower head, low pressure making it pour thickly to your skull before splitting to rivers down your back and chest. Loki swallowed. Water dripped in languid streams down your arms, trickling lazily through the part of your breasts. A droplet clung to your nipple, dangling as he would his tongue on the curve.

There was a quiet rip as he peeled the top of the foil square he held. Your eyes fell to the work of his hands, smiling as you savoured the journey back to meet his smoulder.

Loki gripped his cock, one slow slick of his fist all that was needed before he rolled the condom from the tip. He moaned, eyes fluttering closed as his grip tightened at the base.

Like a dream Loki found himself looming above you, the flat of his stomach pressed against the slick of your own. In seconds, his wetted body plastered to yours; his mouth swallowing against your open lips, his hands sinking into the glossed plump of your skin. Sighs mingled with steam as he moved you with ease against the tiles, the keening thrusts of your hips matching his own eagerness. Loki groaned as your digits curled around his throbbing cock. You released a dirty moan into his mouth as one finger slid between your folds. A growl bubbled in his throat at the feeling of your silken arousal hot against his fingers. Loki felt everything. The clench of your thighs around his wrist, the tug of his foreskin against your mound through latex, the depth of the longing in your kiss. Everything.

She is everything.

“-Wait,” he choked as he pulled away from the kiss.

Water hit the nape of his neck as he watched fear blossom in your eyes. Sodden tendrils of his hair curled against your collarbone. “Are you sure?” he swallowed. “About me-,” he finished, choking on the words. Your face softened. “It never ended for me, Loki” you whispered, barely audible against the water’s slap. He melted into the fingers sliding up the base of his skull. “It was always you,” he heard you say before pulling his mouth to yours. “It was always you,” he echoed between desperate kisses. Loki sank into old habits he could live with. With one hand steadying your waist, he drew your thigh to sit on his hip. A tremble ran up his spine as you manoeuvred his cock against your heat, the skim of your breath caressing his cheek.

And with a gasp, he pushed inside.

Loki’s hips nudged upwards, savouring the drag of your delicate walls wrapped around his length. It was more than he remembered. Or maybe that was new. But every clench of your sweetness around him, every slow tighten of his ass which rocked him deeper. Every moment burned with glittering with clarity, auburn leaves falling in slow motion. Your arms rested on his shoulders. Wet skin slurped as air pockets burst and kissed together. Water ran down, pooling against hands and lips and foreheads as it looked for any way between your bodies.

His name wisped in the steamed air; chanted from breathy moans and pitched sobs of pleasure. Loki could not recall when he had been happier. Perhaps, he thought, I never have.

But the only utterance he had strength for were broken syllables of your name.

Slowly he took you. Moulded to you. Melted into you. So slowly.

Your hands tangled in his soaking hair as Loki hoisted you higher. His hands slid beneath your ass, taking all the work as you slid back and forth along his length. He would never take the supple give of your skin as his tips sank deeper for granted again.

“Darling,” he sighed wantonly. It was punctuated with a slow roll of his hips.

Your eyes flew open, rolling back as your head tapped back against the tile. He kissed down the exposed length of your neck, slurping against rivulets that paved his path.

Waves of desire undulated in his belly, burning blood-red coals that radiated jolts of pleasure from the root of his cock. It pulsed with each measured clench of his ass.

They timed him perfectly, the stammering, gasping prayers of delight heralding your climax growing louder. Loki buried his face in your neck, softly biting up your throat.

“Darling,” he moaned repeatedly as his own orgasm reared. As if the loving word would disappear down the drain between his searching fingers. The invisible string that tied his heart to yours. It always had. You came with an anguished sob, fingernails digging into the meat of his shoulder-blades. One of Loki’s hands flew to the side, grasping slippery palms against tile before grabbing the curtain.

With the lightest of his tugs, the shower rail cracked. The palm flew above your head, smacking and squeaking down the grubby tiles as Loki felt his who body clench, trembling muscles tightening.

His foot slipped against the tub, the correction thrusting his manhood one final squeeze as he came with a crushing cry of your name. He juddered, the force of his cum filling the condom wrapped snug around his pulsing cock.

Your back began to slip down the wall, legs loosening their grip around his waist; spent. But Loki held you close. There was a dreamy smile on your face as your lashes fluttered, refocusing on him.

“I missed you,” you slurred while your fingers knotted through his hair. Water hit Loki’s back as he pushed you further against the wall with a rapturous kiss, wandering hands massaging the spill of your breasts. “I missed me too,” he breathed bitterly against your cheek. A finger trailed along his jaw, tipping Loki’s chin to face you.

“But I missed you more,” he whispered. And what’s more, Loki found, it was true.

The sun set, and then rose. Hours upon hours had passed, low afternoon sun spilling through the open curtains of Loki’s room. It was too cold to be anywhere else. But not in here.

You had lain tangled in each others arms, fingers grazing on skin between giggles and dozing and long conversations. And sex. Lots of sex.

His inhumanly long legs sprawled open. One lay bent, hanging triangularly over the side of the bed. You lay on your stomach, one hand propped beneath your chin while the other trailed lazily up and down your lover’s torso. His pale skin looked tan in golden sunlight. Loki watched you.

His eyes followed the path of your fingertips, pads dipping into every dent of muscle in their way which tightened and relaxed with each breath. Circling, dancing.

Loki shivered. A jolt of one knee rusted the bedsheet draped across his middle. You smiled, lowering to place a winding path of kisses as you edged the sheet lower. “We really should eat,” Loki murmured, stroking your hair as your lips kissed down his cock. You lingered on a taut vein, teasing your tongue along the pulse. What he meant is that you really should eat, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless. It was the little things. Loki’s sharp inhale as you swallowed the tip made your stomach flip with pride.

His chin was pointed to the ceiling, muscles in his neck straining. Onyx hair flooded the pillow, his gentle cup of the back of your head vibrating with restraint. There was a rustle as the fingers of his free hand gathered the bedsheets in a fist, clenching and unclenching as you began to suck. “After…” he groaned with an attempt at authority.

With his cock stuffed in your mouth, you sidled over his leg, pushing his knees wider as you settled in. Your arms slid under his thighs, wrapping around him.

“After,” he gasped, before Loki Laufeyson turned to writhing slut-drunk pleasure beneath your touch.

On further investigation, it seemed you and Loki were shit outta luck.

The cupboards were bare, and it transpired that the Thor-decimated snacks you had grabbed last night between rabid lovemaking was the last of it. Loki spun, gripping the lip of the counter top. His neck was marred with purple bruises from your enthusiastic affections. They wouldn't last, but they looked so pretty while they did. “Let’s go for dinner somewhere,” he purred. You couldn’t help your snort of laugher. “What?” Loki coyed, pushing himself from the ledge. His hands slipped around your waist, grabbing your ass through the sweatshirt hanging down.

“It’s just...risky” you said, tilting your head. The two of you looked at each other.

You’d meant exposure. But sudden memories of every time you and Loki had gone out to eat flashed through your mind.

Selfies, a baying crowd desperate to touch him, autographs- on paper and skin. His endless adoration, drinking in the attention which fed his superiority complex like an assembly line while you faded from his mind. The Real World reared with the force of a slap.

“It won’t be like that again,” he murmured knowingly, tilting your chin up to face him. He gazed down through half-lidded eyes, frowning with sincerity. But he didn’t believe it. Not fully. And with trepidation, you realised, neither did you.

“Afternoon,” the waitress chirped as she handed you and Loki a menu. You thanked her nervously and pulled your cap down.

All around you was the polite buzz of conversation, local radio playing from a speaker behind the bar. Glass windows looked out onto the lake, endless sprawling water lapping at the shore beneath the window. The sun was beginning to set. Loki glanced upwards with a brief, dazzling smile. The woman’s eyes lingered on him as he ran a finger down the menu. They roamed up his arms, the chunk of cable-knit doing nothing to disguise the muscle beneath. On her gaze went, up the exposed curve of his lovebitten neck to the messy bun of dark hair knotted at base of his cap. Her stare widened.

Shit. You could tell the exact moment she clocked the infamous carve of his cheekbones as he sucked them in thoughtfully.

With a gasp, the waitress rocked back on her heels. “I hope you don’t mind me asking,” she whispered nervously, glancing between the two of you and then over her shoulder. “But are you…” she leant closer, using a menu to shield her face from view. “Loki...from the Avengers?” Loki’s eyes met yours.

The air tingled with her excitement, vibrating unspoken words and exclamations. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment, or sudden lust. Or both. Maybe she writes fanfiction about him, you thought.

And as you looked at him, the realisation of this moment’s importance seemed to blossom in Loki’s eyes. An ache grew in your stomach.

Please, you screamed silently. Begging him. A vein in his temple twitched as he nervously adjusted his feet beneath the table. Despite her attempt at covertness, people were staring. A weak smile fluttered at your lips as the seemingly inevitable turn of events teetered on the precipice. First the pomp, then the ceremony of his public adoration.

It would break the dam. This week was different. But it wasn’t real life. You would sidle off to the shadows, wait and wilt as each and every person took their piece of him that he willingly gave.

As it always was, so it shall be.

Unless- Loki cleared his throat.

“Howay, man!” he balked in a bamboozingly accurate Georgie accent, incredulity feigned to perfection. “But I get it wi' that gadgie aw' the time.” The waitress laughed, fanning herself with a menu. “Oh,” she gasped through an awkward smile. “Well, -” she looked at you with a wink. “You’re a lucky one, miss.” Her footsteps retreated as you stared at the list of dinner options, not seeing a single one. Stunned, you felt Loki’s fingers curl around your hand. It was moist with anxious sweat against the menu.

He dipped his chin down, catching your eyes under the rim of your cap. His were wide and beautiful, the deepest, clearest blue you had ever seen. You felt breaths begin to quicken in your chest, tears of happiness threatening to spill over as his grip tightened. “No,” Loki murmured quietly across the table, the velvet tones of his own voice back in fully laden force. “I’m the lucky one.” Your breath hitched as he brought your knuckles to his lips. He lowered his gaze, pausing before raising it to slowly meet your own.

Sunset warmth cast golden hues against his skin, green speckles in his irises bursting in glittering sparks. He let your curled fingers rest against his mouth.

“I always was,” he whispered lovingly against the skin. And you believed him.

A/N: This series has given me SO much joy and I just want to say thank you to the people who've commented and reblogged your hearts out and just all-in-all love these fools as much as I do. I honestly truly wasn't expecting it. This won't be the last we see of this AU, I have something planned. But for now, I hope the story warmed you like some pumpkin-spice cocoa.

Tags @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @megschaef98

[deathbxnny]

So tumblr decided to screw me over and posted the ask too early, which made me delete it in panic and lose the original ask. However!! I thankfully saved the first part of the ask, so here it is:

May I please request Yanqing learning to play a flute because he heard his s/o singing and wanted to be able to join?

Sorry again to the Anon. I also added/changed up the idea a little, so I hope you guys like it!!<33

Content: Established relationship, reader is a singer, teen reader, Jing Yuan being a smug menace, kind of unserious, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns!

((Not proofread))

The trouble of young love. (Yanqing x GN!Reader)

"You... want to learn how to play the flute?" Jing Yuan muttered in near disbelief, his brow raising high as he gazed down at the determined boy, who gave him a simple nod of approval. "Yes. And preferably, by the end of this week." He stated as though it was the easiest thing in the world to simply just learn an instrument in under a week. The general unfortunately didn't doubt that Yanqing genuinely believed that, however.

Jing Yuan blinked in surprise before glancing around quickly in thought. Was this another prank of his? No, it definitely wasn't that simple.

"... And why?" "Oh well... uh..." Yanqing nervously pulled at the collar of his uniform, suddenly slightly flustered and unwilling to share what had gotten him so awfully motivated in the first place. Not that the older man really needed to hear it, as he already had an inkling on what, or rather who, it could be. "... Does it even matter why? I've just been feeling very... musically inclined lately." Jing Yuan snorted at that despite his better judgment, which made Yanqing scowl in offense.

"I'm having a hard time believing that, Yanqing."

The blonde crossed his arms in defiance. "You're not even taking my request seriously, Master." He said, watching as said man leaned back in his chair and near mockingly crossed his arms as well. "It's not that I'm not taking this seriously... it's just that you've never had an interest in such artistic things before." He clarified, even if Yanqing knew better than to believe that it was just an innocent inquiry. "Besides... learning to play a flute is the same as wielding a sword. You need alot of time and patience to hone your skills. A week won't suffice." "And if it is?"

Jing Yuan now grinned in amusement, having expected to be challenged on this. He supposed that this would make for a good teaching lesson in the long run and whilst it may not be the most responsible thing to do, he decided that this would also serve as a form of small punishment for disturbing his "work" in the grand office.

Ah, young love... truly a troublesome thing.

The older man figured that he was doing all of this for you only. Yanqing mentioned your fear of singing in front of large crowds before, and therefore, it didn't come as a surprise that he wanted to do everything in his power to make his lover happy. In a way, it made the general proud to see the boy slowly grow into a young man... even if it came at the cost of his sanity at times. You had changed the lieutenant of the cloud nights in many ways. Some good and some awfully questionable, to say the least. But he figured Yanqing would learn such things on his own in due time.

"Consider me defeated." "And I get a raise to my allowance?" "Perhaps I'll consider it, depending on how well you play." That's all Yanqing needed to hear, the excitement and fire that burned in him at the prospect of not only beating his own master and then also getting more money to share with his dear dove made him immideatly turn and filter out of the room with no further comment. Unknowing of the perilous path he'd have to take in order to learn the art of this instrument.

He was confident that he could make it in under a week so that he could accompany your singing during your first ever stage performance in the grand theaters of the Luofu, which is the whole reason he wanted to learn how to play the flute in the first place.

It couldn't be that hard after all, right?

---

Well, after a good 5 days of relentless training, he still couldn't play more than notes akin to demonic screeching. The general was fair enough to lend him a fancy flute from his own youth, alongside a guide and a couple of traditional music sheets. And yet, it all ended with him laying sprawled out on top of them, the instrument carelessly tossed onto a nearby pillow, whilst he stared up at the ceiling with a deadpan.

Perhaps he truly had underestimated the sheer power of the flute.

But he couldn't claim defeat. At this point, it had become something personal. A challenge that neared one of life and death. If he lost now, then the general would bring this up for centuries to come, and Yanqing did not want to live through that personal hell. Sighing deeply, he rubbed his tired eyes.

Surely, there had to be something he was doing wrong. And yet he just couldn't figure out what it was. He hadn't slept or rested properly in days either, having been too focused on this life changing mission that he just had no care for anything else. But the self-doubt was beginning to creep in, and he didn't know if he was more upset at himself or at the general. He simply wasn't as talented as you were musically.

And just as his eyes were beginning to flutter shut in defeat, your melodic voice breathed life right back into him. He inhaled deeply, quickly drapping a couple of blankets and pillows over the flute and music sheets before he quickly summoned a sword to act as though he was polishing it. Entering the room with an obvious air of worry and nervousness, you gave him a weak smile.

"Yanqing." You hummed gently, perhaps even nearly shyly as you approached him and took a careful seat next to him. His hand reached out and pressed it's palm against your warm cheek, a tired smile gracing his lips. "Hello there, my dove... it's late out. Why are you here?" He asked, nervous that you'd notice the golden flute that was sticking out from behind a pillow a couple meters away. But thankfully you only had eyes on him, as you fidgeted with your hands.

"The last rehearsal is tomorrow... and I'm starting to have doubts... especially after I heard the rumor regarding the general and the Master Diviner attending the performance as well! I didn't know it was going to be such a big thing..." And it wouldn't have been if Yanqing never mentioned a word of it. He should've guessed that his master would eventually figure out his plans and attempt to get first row seats to view his defeat. Something about it filled him with strong determination, the need to win resurfacing in his heart. If not for himself, then you.

"Don't worry about it. Just focus on your singing, and I'll take care of the rest." He said, a serious look on his face that made you raise a confused brow. Yet you thankfully didn't dwell on his cryptic words any further due to him swiftly changing the topic to more mundane things to keep you distracted.

He eventually walked you home, your hand in his, the sun having set completely hours ago. It was a calming moment that refocused his mind and soul on the task at hand, which he ofcourse immideatly resumed once he returned to the estate. It didn't matter to him if he had to stay up 2 more days for this to work.

He'd play the most beautiful sounds on the flute to accompany your singing and if it's the last thing he did.

At this point, he was perhaps just doing it to wipe that smug look off of his mentors face.

---

"Alright! All done... you look great, (Y/N)!" One of your friends grinned as she fixed up the last details on your rather lavish performance clothes. You tried to weakly smile back, unable to help the deep feeling of fear that ran through you. "Is the theater room full already?" "To the brim! And the General and Master Diviner have also arrived just now... man, it's a real fullhouse tonight." She trailed off, missing the way all color seemed to leave your face.

You had hoped that it was a simple rumour, but after sneaking a peek from behind the curtains into the grand hall, your fears truly did come true. Jing Yuan was casually leaning back in his seat as he conversed with Fu Xuan about a topic that made the woman deadpan at him in annoyance.

This is definitely going to be a disaster, you concluded with an affirmative nod.

"(Y/N)? Please get in formation. The performance is just about to start." The director whispered to you when the lights dimmed and you were pushed towards the stage. Your heart was beating against your chest, your mouth feeling dry. How were you supposed to do this? You couldn't do it. The fear was too great.

And it didn't help that Yanqing was nowhere to be seen in the crowd.

Gulping as the music started, you shakily opened your mouth when suddenly the most melodic symphony of a flute accompanied your at first trembling voice. You blinked in surprise, eyes glancing over to see your lover resting atop a fake tree as his fingers moved along the instrument. Finally understanding everything, you turned to the audience with newfound confidence. Your voice traveled throughout the entire stadium and bewitched it's listeners. No one could look away if they wanted to.

And by the end of the performance, no one could stay seated either, as they cheered and clapped loudly... except for Jing Yuan and Fu Xuan, who still looked hardly impressed next to the general. They watched as Yanqing approached you with a wide smile, your arms immideatly wrapping around him in sincere gratefulness. Giving the man an expectant look, the Master Diviner crossed her arms with a frown.

"Well? What type of teaching moment was this supposed to be?" She asked, not being convinced of his ways of teaching at all anymore. Jing Yuan kept staring ahead, a calm and victorious smile on his lips whilst he watched you and Yanqing happily talk on stage. "That he should learn how to be patient and not overdo things that take time, unless he wants to reap the consequences." Fu Xuan raised a brow, obviously very much unimpressed. "You do realise that this just proved to him that he doesn't need to do that?" "Ah no... he won't do it ever again. Just wait." He simply replied, his grin widening when Yanqing's face dropped. There was a pause... before the boy suddenly just finally collapsed into your arms and chaos broke out.

Fu Xuan gave Jing Yuan a near horrified glance, the older man only continuing to smile in content.

He did try and warn him after all.

Alrighttt... I hope this was fine, Anon!! I once again apologize for accidentally deleting your request and hope this was okay enough to make up for it!!<33

[matchagator]

Clash | jjk (Mature) Finale Ch.10

The finale of Clash is finally here! This has been such a fun project for me to work on and I have loved every moment of it. I hope you enjoy the ending. Please leave me a comment sharing your thoughts, opinions, and highlights of the series. You guys have been amazing and I appreciate you for reblogging, liking, and supporting my writing! Until next time! -Emmy 💜

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Finale

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader

{Rating:} 18+

{Genre:} Slice of Life | Neighbors

{Summary:} You're a new resident in your very first apartment excited to enjoy the simple life of adulthood. Unfortunately for you, you continue to run into unruly neighbors no matter how much you try to keep to yourself.

{Warnings:} Mature Language, Enemies to Lovers, Hostility, Mild Angst, Sexual Tension, Banter, Smut, Mild Degradation, Sexual Content, Prank Wars, Unprotected Sex, Awkward Tension, Fluff, Oral Sex, Teasing, Blood, Peril, Car Accident, Elements of Cheating, Exes, Jealousy

After a late-night run to your favorite local ice cream parlor, you find yourself peering out of the window as Jungkook drives you both home from your date. Your mind can’t help but swirl with thoughts of the bowling alley, annoyed that the sight of your ex-boyfriend seems to plague your mind with insecurities from the past. You shift your eyes onto Jungkook, noticing that he’s been staring occasionally as his eyes flicker from the road to you.

“Everything alright?” He asks, noticing your mood slowly fade from your usual sassy demeanor to being more quiet and reserved. You try to offer him a smile, not realizing that your expression instantly exposes your worry. 

“Hmm? Oh…yeah, I’m fine.” Your words are a blatant lie as you think about your relationship with Jungkook. This is the first time since Han’s infidelity that you allow yourself to have feelings for someone and you still get a glimpse of fear that the heartbreak might consume you all over again, only worse this time.

Jungkook simply leans back in the driver’s seat, keeping his eyes on the road as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “It’s never going to happen.” He states plainly, causing you to glance back at him.

“What?” You ask slightly confused as Jungkook shifts his large bug eyes back in your direction, a sincere smile stretching across his lips. 

“What you’re worried about.” You blink as you process his words, not realizing that your worries of history repeating itself would be so prominent. “He’s a fucking idiot. You think I’d be dumb enough to ever look elsewhere?” He continues on, somehow managing to snap you out of your worries as his handsome smile morphs into a smirk. “Hell, even when I sleep I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

You suddenly feel any sentiment that Han had ever plagued upon you fade away as Jungkook’s smirk causes you to become playful. “Oh, so you can’t stop thinking about me, hmm?” You grin as Jungkook turns into the parking garage of your apartment complex, finding a spot relatively close to the door leading into the main lobby. 

“Unfortunately not.” He teases as he puts the car in park, looking over at you with his bright big eyes. You feel your heart flutter as he looks at you with genuine admiration, allowing you to feel more confident that this relationship will have a vastly different ending. You can’t recall a single moment that Han ever looked at you in such a way that could melt you from the inside out. 

You bring your hand up to rest on Jungkook’s cheek, confirming that this is all reality and you aren’t just dreaming of this moment. “Thank you…for tonight.” You whisper, leaning over the center console to press a kiss onto his lips, enjoying the cool sensation of his lip piercing as your lips mold to his. 

When you pull away, you feel your limbs relax as you sigh in contentment, smiling up brightly at the man you still can’t believe is now your boyfriend. How is it that, not long ago, you avoided him like the plague while now you wait hopelessly for him to text you back? 

Jungkook enjoys the sight of you relaxing from his touch as he runs his hand through your hair, sprawling his fingertips against the back of your head as he guides you back into him, catching your lips between his teeth as he kisses you again, allowing his tongue to invade the barrier of your lips. You instinctually moan from the warmth of his tongue, causing Jungkook to seize the opportunity to press further, conquering every inch of your mouth to savor your sweet taste. 

Your hands move down to his chest, gripping the fabric of his sweater as you boldly pull him into you, desperate to feel him against every inch of your body. The movement causes Jungkook to pause, pulling away from the kiss panting to catch his breath as you do just the same. He presses his forehead against yours, still caressing the back of your head as he fights the urge to rip the clothes clean off your body. 

“Backseat?” You huff, still trying to regulate your breathing as Jungkook shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment as he continues holding you forehead to forehead. You pull back, a little surprised that he just shook his head no. He loved the idea of you taking him in the back seat earlier during your drive, what changed his mind since then? “You don’t want to fuck me in your backseat?” You try to confirm, narrowing your eyes suspiciously as Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh. 

Suddenly, you drop your hands from his chest, realizing that he finds your reaction amusing. You can’t help but feel your insecurities simmer back up, never knowing Jungkook to deny the opportunity for sex. “Why not?” You can’t help but pout as you snap your words in his direction, hoping he can sense your discontent. 

“Another time”. Jungkook simply continues laughing slightly under his breath at your bratty reaction, pulling you back toward him despite your protest. “Right now…I want to make love to you in my bed instead.” 

Every fiber of your being freezes at his confession, causing your pout to suddenly vanish. Did you just hear him correctly? He wants to make love to you instead? You are so taken aback that you fail to realize that Jungkook has stepped out of the car and moved over to your passenger door, opening it for you as he offers you his hand. “You coming or not, princess?” 

You finally turn to face him, letting your brain catch up from its short circuit as you take hold of Jungkook’s hand. He’s glancing down at you with a coy smile, leaving you speechless as you step out of his BMW. He closes the door behind you like a gentleman, moving around you quickly so that he can hold open the lobby door for you as well. 

As you walk through the door, Jungkook grabs ahold of your hand, enjoying even the smallest touch as he guides you to the elevators. You can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat as he gently rubs the pad of his thumb against the side of your hand. “JK…”

Before you can mutter out your thoughts, the chime of the elevator distracts you as Jungkook steps into the lift, pulling you in by the hand laced with his. You step inside only for him to pull you against his sturdy frame as he twists your body so that your back is pressed against his chest. 

As the door closes, you feel him release his hold of your hand, allowing his arms to wrap around your torso as he hugs you from behind. He rests his chin against your shoulder, his breath ghosting against the column of your neck as he gently sways you from side to side. “You look beautiful, you know that?” 

You hum happily as you close your eyes, savoring the way he’s whispering in your ear and swaying your body ever so slowly. “You too.” You mutter out, feeling so relaxed that you almost fail to realize what you said. “Not beautiful….” You stutter as your eyes snap back open.

Jungkook releases his hold of you as you turn to face him, your cheeks warm from the embarrassment of your statement. Jungkook simply chuckles at the sight as you playfully slap your hand across his chest. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” His eyebrows pull together in a look of confusion while his lips continue to reveal the cocky grin etched over his features. 

You smack your lips as you lean your weight to one side, popping your hip dramatically. “Don’t be an ass.” You tease him as you go to turn back away from him. Your momentum stops once he grabs your hand, spinning you back around as he pulls you back into him, crashing his lips to yours. You gasp from the moment, allowing him immediate access as his large hands grab ahold of either side of your head, holding you steady as he shamelessly ravages your mouth with his. 

You feel dizzy, his affection suffocating as you desperately cling to his body. There is no denying the physical attraction between the two of you, both of your bodies igniting with an insatiable heat for the other. As the elevator doors open to reveal that familiar corridor of the 7th floor, you feel Jungkook’s hand run down your body, cupping your ass before he lifts you off the ground, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his torso. 

Your legs cling around the chiseled waist that you love so much as he effortlessly carries you out of the elevator, refusing to break apart from your kiss. Jungkook makes his way to his apartment door as his lips begin to trail down the length of your jaw, slowly working his way down your neck. “Get my keys…” His voice is breathy against your skin as he speckles kisses along your collarbone. “Right pocket.” He continues as he begins to suck gently against your sweet spot, causing you to moan and toss your head back. 

The heat of the moment has you frantically obeying, eager to get into his apartment to get lost amongst his sheets. You curl your back, allowing yourself to slide your arm down between his, keeping your hips flush against his. As you push between your bodies, you gasp as your hand accidentally cups his hardened length, causing him to send vibrations against the column of your neck as he groans from the pressure. “Fuck, Y/n. Hurry up and get my damn keys.” 

Your hand finally snakes to the side, slipping into the right pocket of his cargo pants as you feel the cold metal of his keys against your fingertips. You grip the keyring, plucking it from the fabric as you try to gain enough clarity to fiddle around with the keys in search of the correct one. Jungkook continues to nuzzle against your shoulder, the metal of his piercing trailing against your skin. You finally find the correct key as Jungkook rotates you both till you're facing the door. You lean to the side, thankful for Jungkook’s strength keeping you in place as you turn the mechanism. 

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to turn around and walk into his apartment, kicking the door close behind him as he shamelessly carries you across the length of his floorplan till you’re both in his bedroom. You feel your legs slide down his body as he slowly releases his hold of you until your feet are back on the ground. 

There is a moment of silence as you both stand there staring at each other, Jungkook’s grin widening as he kicks his boots off, tossing them to the side as his eyes sparkle with mischief. “Your turn.”

You freeze, quickly realizing that he’s implying it’s your turn to remove a piece of clothing. You narrow your eyes in annoyance, “Really?”

“Indulge me.” The tone of his voice dips dangerously as he raises his eyebrows as if urging you on. You can’t help but roll your eyes as you think of something to take off, realizing that your purse has been around your shoulder this entire time. You grab the strap, sliding it down the length of your arm as you hold the bag off to the side, letting it drop to the ground after a moment. “Doesn’t count.” Jungkook challenges, disappointed that so little came off. 

“It’s an accessory, Jeon.” You argue, smirking to yourself as you realize you have way more layers to peel back than Jungkook does. “Definitely counts.” You beam triumphantly as you gesture toward him to continue. “Go on.” 

Jungkook presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, shaking his head at your sudden boost of confidence. He decides to go straight for his belt, fiddling with the buckle before slowly pulling it off from one side, allowing the material to slide through each belt loop. Your eyes trail down to his waist, unable to ignore the erection so clearly visible beneath his cargo pants. You bite your lip in anticipation before hearing his belt hit the ground. 

As you snap back out of it, you glance down at your outfit, pulling off your own footwear one at a time as you drop them to your sides. Jungkook follows by pulling off his socks, leaving you to in turn do the same before smirking maliciously at the reality that Jungkook only has so many layers left. 

“I’m waiting.” The sass in your voice only spurs Jungkook even more, wanting to toss you down and put you in your place. Thankfully, his reserve to take it slowly tonight is the only thing keeping him calm and collected as he grabs the collar of his sweater, tugging the fabric off to reveal the perfectly sculpted masterpiece that is his abdomen. 

You hold your breath at the sight, almost forgetting the view of the painted artwork up his arm given it was concealed beneath his sweater most of the evening. You admire the tattoos once again, failing to see the smug grin stretching across his lips as you blatantly check him out. “Enjoying the view?” 

Jungkook’s comment has you returning from your sexual daze, feeling flustered as you imagine his strong arms wrapping around you as he pleasures you in every sense of the word. “Shut up.” You grab the bottom of your own sweater, pulling it over your head to reveal the lacy white bra you have on underneath. 

His eyes widen at the sight, running his tongue against his bottom lip as he catches his piercing between his teeth. “So damn sexy.” He’s practically growling his remark as he stares you down like a hunter to its prey. You roll your eyes once more, striking a silly pose as you offer him the opportunity to soak it all in. 

The strip tease continues between you until Jungkook is down to his boxers, pulling them down as his firm dick stands proudly at attention. He doesn’t seem shy at all, completely comfortable in his own skin. Thankfully, due to the amount of clothing you had on, you're left in your matching bra and underwear set. While Jungkook stands naked before you, you have your arms crossed over your chest instinctually as if shielding yourself from his viewing pleasure.

Jungkook takes long slow steps towards you as the tension in the room increases, feeling the sexual desire bubbling over as he becomes desperate for a view of what treasure lies underneath the lace. “Looks like you were outnumbered.” Your voice is soft as he towers over you, suddenly becoming intimidated by his stature. 

“I can rectify that.” His voice is dripping with need, desperate to peel back the layers concealing you from him. He grabs your arms that are crossed in front of you, gently guiding them down to allow him a better view. “Don’t hide yourself from me.” He whispers as he leans in to place a kiss upon your lips, pulling back just enough to see your expression. His hand snakes around your back, his fingers grabbing hold of the latch of your bra. With one single swoop of his fingertips, he manages to completely unhook your bra, the material coming undone to give him a raw look at your breasts.

Jungkook groans in satisfaction at the sight, moving his lips to place gentle kisses down your neck as he trails his mouth down your decolletage. You moan from the warmth of his mouth against the cool air of his apartment, his arms wrapping around you and pulling your body flush against his naked being. “You're so damn gorgeous.” He mutters against your skin as he slowly begins to collapse to his knees, kissing your hardening nipples before running his tongue down the center of your sternum.

The sensations he is inflicting on you have your mind swirling, a building heat radiating from between your legs as the moisture exposes your arousal. You aren’t sure what to do when Jungkook kneels before you, his large hands gripping your waist firmly as he massages the fleshy parts of your hips. You glance down at him, feeling your cheeks flush red as he places gentle kisses along your hip bones. 

You lace your fingers through his hair, tugging ever so gently as he continues trailing kisses along the skin near the waistband of your panties. You’re in complete shock once you feel a tug against your waist, glancing down to see your waistband snatched between his teeth. “JK…What are you….” You feel embarrassed at the desperation in your voice as Jungkook begins to tug your panties down with his teeth, still gripping your hips firmly. 

A shiver courses down your spine as you feel his breath against your inner thigh, the lace tickling your skin as Jungkook manages to tug them down enough, allowing them to slide down the remainder of the way. His face is dangerously close to your most intimate region, the cold metal of his piercing tickling your thigh as he moves his hands down your waist and between your legs, pressing against them to encourage you to part them open.

Jungkook glances up at you from his position on his knees, looking devilishly handsome as mischief twinkles behind his large pupils. He’s devouring the sight of your naked heat, gloriously displayed for his pleasure as he allows the pad of his thumb to gently rub and press against your clit. 

The motion has you gasping from his touch, digging your hands ever further into his hair as your head falls back. You want more, no, you need more as you feel his head lean into you from the grip you hold on his strands. You glance back down at him just in time to see him latch his mouth directly over the folds of your vagina. 

The moan that escapes your mouth is pornographic as you feel the mixture of heat varied with the cool metal against your skin, setting you ablaze as Jungkook shamelessly devours your taste. He boldly presses his tongue forward, allowing it to tease your tight hole as his tongue licks up the center till the tip flicks against your clitoris. 

Your toes curl with excitement as you press up onto the balls of your feet, desperately searching for your balance as Jungkook ravages your pussy with his treatment. You feel his tongue flatten against your folds, his wet muscle pressing wonderfully against your core as he licks you up and down, making sure his tongue flicks over your clit multiple times. 

“Ah fuck…” you moan as you grip Jungkook’s shoulders tightly, feeling his head trapped between your thighs as he continues to devour the taste of you. “Jungkook…I…” You feel your legs begin to tremble as his tongue impales you, swirling your insides as you struggle to keep yourself standing steadily. You press your eyes shut, letting your head fall back in ecstasy. 

Your body is beginning to become engulfed in heat, the familiar build-up of your orgasm threatening to return as Jungkook begins sucking on your folds, desperate to ravage you thoroughly, leaving you in a complete state of disarray. 

“You taste so damn sweet, Y/n.” Jungkook groans against your vagina, the vibrations of his voice only stimulating you further as you grab ahold of his shoulders tighter, feeling your legs about to give out as your orgasm grows near. 

Jungkook can easily pick up on the triggers your body is giving off, grinning contently as your orgasm approaches. “That’s it, princess. Cum for me.” He snakes a hand in between your legs as he pops off of your folds, a deep guttural noise reverberating in his chest at the satisfaction of the state he’s left your swollen pussy. He slips two fingers in effortlessly from the moisture collecting between your legs, pumping his hand ruthlessly to keep your build escalating rapidly. 

The switch from his tongue to the pressure of his fingers stretching you out has a pleasurable yelp escaping your lips as you desperately try to catch your breath. Jungkook moves his arm just enough to allow his tongue to flick over your clitoris as he pumps his hand fast, fucking his fingers deep as he feels your walls strangling his digits. 

“Fuck…JK, I’m gonna…” Before you can give him much warning, the tightening band in your stomach releases, letting you savor each sensation as Jungkook continues his movements to help you ride the waves of your orgasm.  Jungkook moves his head away just in time, a devilish smirk staring up at you as you finally open your eyes to process everything. 

You sigh contently as Jungkook stands from his knees, grabbing ahold of your naked body before gently tossing you down onto his bed, loving the way your hair sprawls out over his bedsheets like a siren beckoning him in. He wastes no time crawling onto you, slowly kissing back up your body as his arms cage you beneath him.

Your body shivers with excitement despite the exhaustion your limbs already feel, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck. Jungkook pauses when his face is inches from yours, the sexual glare from earlier softening as large bug eyes admire every inch of your features. You’re panting softly as your body recovers, watching him carefully as his pupils practically sparkle. 

There is an unspoken moment of admiration between the two of you, all of the sweltering heat from before simmering down to a comforting warmth. Jungkook lets his body relax, allowing his hips to press into you as you feel his hard member poking your thigh. He lowers himself down onto his elbows, still hovering over you as he leans his weight to one side so he can lift a hand to brush a few strands of hair from your face. 

“Y/n?” He asks with a soft tone to his voice, his eyes reflecting the same softness. You hum in response, entranced by his stare as you maintain eye contact with him. Jungkook’s hand caresses your cheek as he stares at you for another moment, his breath escaping him as he realizes exactly who is in his bed. “You’re so beautiful.” He comments quietly, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear him. 

You blink from his comment, wishing you knew the words to respond. Your mind is screaming multiple sentiments you wish would roll off your tongue. You want to tell him just how attractive and handsome you find him, especially with his piercings and tattoos. You want to tell him how amazing of a person he is and how in awe of him you are when he jumps into paramedic mode. Heck, you even want to tell him how crazy he drives you with his pranks and childish banter even though you secretly love it all. You want him to know how much you appreciate him making you feel so valued in front of Han and how glad you are that he referred to himself as your boyfriend. Even with all of these thoughts, you still can’t manage to do anything but pull him closer, pressing a gentle kiss upon his lips hoping it will exude your emotions. 

Jungkook melts into your embrace, still holding your face with his palm as he deepens the kiss. You smile against his lips, feeling suddenly giddy as you bring your legs up around his waist, locking them together behind his back. Jungkook reciprocates the smile, pulling away to adore the joy on your face before kissing you passionately, practically smothering you in his sheets as he savors your affection. 

As the kiss continues to deepen, your body relaxes, letting your legs drop as you release your arms from around his neck. Jungkook takes the opportunity to align his hips with yours, feeling his hardened dick poking at the entrance of your vagina. You gasp slightly from the sudden touch, your mouth opening to allow his tongue another luscious taste. 

You focus all of your attention on the fondness of his embrace, your body igniting an insatiable need for him as he pushes his member forward, pressing on until he bottoms out. Your walls strangle his cock gloriously as he groans against your lips, feeling himself struggle to set a slow, delicious pace. 

Jungkook moves his hips slowly as he strokes himself in and out of you, finally breaking free from your kiss as he hangs his head, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re so perfect for me.” His words drip with need as he continues thrusting himself into you, loving the way your body bounces with each thrust of his hips. 

You sigh happily as Jungkook moves his head to the crook of your neck, latching his lips onto your flesh to suckle the skin gently. You moan from the warmth, chills racking through your body as your toes curl, enjoying every push against your cervix as you feel your body elevate. “Jungkook.” You moan his name shamelessly, loving the way his eyes darken from the sound. “You feel so good.” You add, watching as your encouragement causes him to quicken the pace of his hips. 

The warmth of his sheets suddenly disappears as Jungkook collects you in his arms, rotating your bodies until you’re now sitting a top of him. You whimper as you sink further on his dick, barely being able to move as you feel wonderfully full. “Shit…”

Jungkook smirks up at you as he lays beneath you, moving his hands to grip your hips as he tucks his piercing into his teeth, gently gnawing on his bottom lip. “You gotta move, Y/n,” He teases as you press your hands onto his chest to help steady yourself as that familiar high begins creeping back. You bravely attempt to lift your hips up a little, feeling the pressure release slightly before dropping yourself back down, his cock hitting you at depths you have never felt before. 

The sensation causes you to fall forward against his chest, knowing your orgasm will rip into you almost instantly if you attempt that again. “Hang on, princess.” Jungkook grins as he uses his strength to lift your hips off of his dick just a couple of inches as he begins thrusting his hips up into you, pounding his thick member deep as you cry out. 

“Jungkook!” It doesn’t take long for your vision to shift white in rapture as you feel the same euphoric high that Jungkook has brought you before. Your hands grab his muscular frame as you try to steady yourself from your pleasure, Jungkook refusing to stop pounding into you as you continue to ride on the shocks of each thrust. “Shit…JK…I can’t…” You helplessly babble as you feel a rope of hot cum shoot into you when Jungkook finally meets his end, fucking his cum deep into your pussy. A final rough thrust into your vagina causes you to feel an embarrassing amount of liquid gush from between your legs as your body goes completely limp.

“Thatta girl.” Jungkook beams, a mischievous smirk plastered over his features as he rolls back over, letting your body press into the sheets beneath him. He leans forward to capture you in another sweet kiss, both of you panting to catch your breath throughout it all as he rolls off of you, collapsing into the bed beside you. 

Jungkook goes to pull you into his side, eager to hold you, only for you to push his hand away. “Thanks for the sex…I’m gonna head out now.” You struggle to keep it together as you attempt to sit up, feeling utterly exhausted. Jungkook pauses, leaning up on his arm as he watches you get out of bed and begin picking up your belongings. 

“What?” His features are scrunched together in confusion as he reaches out and grabs your arm. “Are you seriously dippin’ right now?” You struggle to keep a straight face as you turn back to face him, breaking your facade and laughing as you drop your clothes back onto the ground. 

“Nah, I’m just kidding.” You tease, satisfied that you managed to make him squirm once again. 

Jungkook narrows his eyes as he pulls your arm toward him, causing you to fall back into his bed as he brings you up against his chest to hold you in his arms. “Don’t be a brat.” He complains, knowing this prank war between you has only just begun.

You giggle as you nestle your head against his chest, enjoying the soothing warmth of his body as you melt into his hold. “I’m sorry, I had to get you back.” 

“Mhmm.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, too blissed out to argue back with you. 

You trace your fingertips along the designs of his tattoo as he holds you tightly, cuddling you close as he closes his eyes to try and rest. “You know you love me.” You offer as you tilt your head up to look at him, watching as he opens his eyes to peek at you. 

Jungkook notices your messy hair and flushed complexion, admiring your post-sex glow as his heart flutters at the thought of loving you. It’s been a few months since you moved into the complex and since you somehow managed to encapture him fully in everything about you. “Yeah.” His eyes soften as he watches you, bringing his hand up to smooth out a strand of your hair. “I think I do.”

(About a year later)

The gentle thrum of the shower echoes throughout Jungkook’s bedroom, causing you to stir from your restful slumber. The cool material of Jungkook’s bedsheets entrap you as you try to get up, refusing to break away from the comfortable fabric as you roll over to find the bed empty beside you. You gently open your eyes, prying them apart to see the soft amber glow of morning creeping in through the windowsill. 

You can hear Jungkook humming away in the bathroom as the din of the shower disappears, allowing the room to be engulfed in a peaceful silence. A groan escapes your lips as you pull your limbs away from your center, relishing in the stretch of your muscles as you move to cover your face with the comforter to escape back into your sleep. 

You teeter in and out of a dream as Jungkook is getting ready for work. Moments pass until the click of the bathroom door pulls you back, causing you to stir once again as you hear footsteps walking about his bedroom. You hesitantly pull the sheets down from your face, squinting as your vision adjusts to the lighting as Jungkook grins in your direction. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.” He teases as he rubs a small towel through his hair, attempting to soak up as much moisture as possible.

Your eyes finally adjust to the sight of your boyfriend in his paramedic uniform as he walks around his bedroom, maneuvering through the stacked boxes occupying the space. You smile as you roll to your side, propping your head up with your hand as you admire the sight of all of your belongings inside of his apartment. “Good morning.” You mutter sleepily as Jungkook walks over to you, leaning over as he presses a kiss to your lips.

His lips mold over your own, allowing you to savor his taste as you playfully grab ahold of the collar of his uniform, tugging the fabric toward you as he tumbles closer to the bed. He goes to stop himself from falling over you, groaning from your sudden aggression to kiss him senseless. 

“I have to get going soon.” He complains, knowing that if time permitted, he wouldn’t hold back from indulging in a little bit of your body before work. Unfortunately for him, he still needed to grab breakfast before heading out. Jungkook smiles against your lips as he grabs hold of your shoulders, pushing you away from him to try and gain back his sanity. “Join me for breakfast?” He inquires as he breaks away from your lips, leaving you chasing after him for more. You groan at the idea of getting up so early, but you realize that it might just be the perfect opportunity to get a head start on unpacking all of your belongings. 

You finally nod, your heart leaping at the sight of the bright smile that invades his lips from your answer. “I’ll go pour you some cereal.”

“Thank you.” You call out after him, watching as he disappears out of the bedroom to prepare your food. You glance around once more, settling into the idea that this is now your new home. You can’t help but feel happy that your lease finally ended and that Jungkook invited you to move in with him. With the amount of nights that you’d spend over there, there really wasn’t any logic to owning an apartment directly next door. 

It’s been exactly a year since you moved in, suddenly feeling immensely thankful that your obnoxiously annoying neighbor ended up becoming the man that you love and, more importantly, love to annoy. You peel back the covers as you pluck yourself from bed, shuffling your feet across the floor as you venture toward a large stack of boxes. You rub away the sleep from your eyes, trying to locate the box of clothing that has all of your workout attire. 

You thankfully find it amongst the clutter, needing to move a few boxes off the top in order to be able to access it. With a quick pull of the top flaps, you start moving around the clothing within until you find a cropped black tank top and a pair of bike shorts for you to wear. You smile as you toss the articles over your arm, freeing your hands to reseal the box. 

You move over to the bathroom, happy to find some of your skincare and hygienic products already displayed in a small corner of the vanity from your previous nights spent at his apartment. You notice a few more small boxes tucked at the far corner of the bathroom, knowing you would need to find a spot for all of your belongings to be stored away. 

You proceed through your morning routine quickly, knowing that there won't be much time left before Jungkook has to leave. You waste no time getting dressed in your outfit of choice as you finally emerge to join Jungkook in the kitchen. 

You spot a bowl of cereal waiting for you on the table beside Jungkook's, hearing your stomach gurgle as your hunger suddenly presents itself. You place a hand over your stomach, licking your lips as you notice a cup of coffee already brewed and waiting for you beside your breakfast. As you walk to take a seat beside Jungkook, he turns around to face you, devouring the sight of your body in such skin-tight clothing. 

As you go to sit down, you suddenly feel a sharp sting on your backside as a small yelp escapes your lips. You glance over to find Jungkook with a smug grin, realizing that he just couldn’t help but smack your ass in such a sexy outfit. “Seriously?” You raise your brow as you grip the back of the chair, pulling it out only to see Jungkook shrug his shoulders. 

“You can’t expect me not to when you’re looking like that.” He states simply, selling the idea that you brought this upon yourself. You roll your eyes playfully as you sit down, watching him shovel a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, the crunching sound causing your mouth to salivate as you go to grab your spoon. 

You lift the utensil with anticipation of your first bite, digging into the bowl only to hear a loud clunk that causes you to falter. Your eyes narrow as you look at your meal with curiosity, tapping your spoon into the bowl as you quickly notice the milk inside is completely frozen, solid between the few pieces of scattered cereal atop. “Seriously?”

Jungkook snorts beside you as he laughs midway through chewing his own bite of cereal, clearly amused by his little prank. You smack your lips as you turn to face him with annoyance, more so upset that he thinks this would make you upset. “Ha, ha. Very funny.” You sarcastically respond as you narrow your eyes at him, watching his childlike smile stretch across his face. “You know I can just pour myself another bowl?” You offer up, trying to dismantle the pride he feels from his attempted prank that you refuse to react much to. 

“You do that.” He hums under his breath as he reaches for his coffee, lifting his mug to his lips as he sucks down some of the hot bitter liquid. You roll your eyes as you stand up and grab your bowl, walking over to the kitchen as you set it beside the kitchen sink to defrost. You move about the space as you pull open one of the cupboards, retrieving an empty bowl as you seek out the box of cereal from the pantry. 

As you grab the cardboard box, you glance back over your shoulder before staring at Jungkook as you slowly peel open the box. “Do you think you could help me bring a few things to the storage unit after work?” You question, trying not to pay any mind to his attempts of starting up your prank war once again. 

Since you’ve slowly started moving your things over to Jungkook’s, you had to get yourself a storage unit to hold all of the furniture pieces you would have doubled of. Thankfully, it wouldn’t be too challenging to sell things, however for now, it was easiest to store it away out of sight for the time being. 

“Yeah, I could do that,” Jungkook responds as he finishes off the final mouthfuls of cereal, scrolling on his phone to quickly check his work email before heading in for the day. 

You smile at his response, glad to have the help as you pour the dry cereal into your bowl, feeling hungrier than ever now that you’ve had to wait for your sugary breakfast treat. You seal the box up as you place it back into the pantry cupboard, shifting to the refrigerator as you reach for the pint of milk. 

As you twist off the cap and pour the container sideways, you notice that nothing is coming out despite the pint being almost full to the top. You rotate the bottle, attempting to see if anything will come out. You set the pint down, hearing a thud as it hits the counter top and you realize that the entire pint of milk is also frozen solid. “What the fuck, JK?!” You groan, hearing him practically choke on his sip of coffee as laughter erupts from his chest. 

“I’m just returning the favor, princess.” He beams as he sets his mug down to stand and collect his belongings to start heading out. 

The realization that you won’t be able to have cereal this morning dawns on you as a pout tugs against your lips. “What am I supposed to eat now?”

Jungkook simply shrugs, offering you a false sympathetic frown. “Sounds like your problem, I gotta go.” 

You narrow your eyes at him as you charge toward him, watching him chuckle as he tries to maneuver his way around you to get to the front door. Thankfully, you’re fast enough as you block the entryway, spreading your arms out to press against either side of the wall to keep him from leaving. “Y/n, I gotta go, move.” He pleads despite finding your stubbornness wildly amusing. 

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” You grin mischievously as you continue to block his path with your body. “That way I’ll have you all to myself today.” 

It’s Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes as he takes a step closer to you, towering over you as you hold your position strong. “As tempting as that sounds, I don’t want to get fired.” He offers you a gentle smile as he leans in to place a kiss on your lips, instantly distracting you from your resolve. He snakes his arms around your waist as he pulls you in closer, deepening your kiss as he fights the urge to take things further.

His affection causes you to crumble, weakening your stance as you suddenly feel yourself lift into the air and twist about until you're suddenly watching Jungkook stand between yourself and the door. You drop your mouth open as you put together the pieces of his deception. His kiss was nothing more than a ploy to get you to move. “Hey, no fair.” You pull your lips back into a pour as you watch Jungkook look you over as he pulls on his chunky boots. 

“I’ll make up for it later.” He offers, his eyes darkening as he takes one last opportunity to admire you in your outfit. You soften your stance as you smile up at him, stepping forward to place one more kiss upon his lips. 

“I love you.” You whisper, finally settling into the reality that this is your new normal. Seeing him off to work and being home when he gets back, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Jungkook melts into your kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as if silently communicating the same sentiment. You close your eyes, enjoying your close proximity before you feel him pull away. “Of course you do.” He teases as the mood returns to a lighthearted playfulness. “Who wouldn’t?” He adds, a cocky grin stretching over his lips as he opens the door to leave. “See you tonight, princess. You better be ready for me.” He shoots you a final stare before closing the door, leaving your insides fluttering from the thought of him returning and holding you in his arms, having his way with you for the rest of the evening. 

Once you hear that door mechanism click shut, you turn back to face the landscape of his apartment, noticing more boxes stacked in the living room. You can’t fight off the giddy smile that invades your features as you admire the beginning of this next wildly exciting chapter of your relationship that all began because you clashed with your devilishly handsome next-door neighbor. 

{Tag List:} @ericawantstoescape @i-never-post-but-i-am-here @koobunsblog @jkoma @jjkw-7 @gretesstuff @chimsworldsstuff @rms-expensive-girl @generouschildcolor @moonfaery @coralmusicblaze @roguesthetic @kissyfacekoo @tatamicc @oopscoop @namjoonscrabjuice @joonssidebitch @shaybtsforever @bangtans-momma @itslamia @aak22 @telepathytae @savinasavers @jjeonjjk7 @chaelvrx @heyitsmehaneul @libra04 @pjmsies @minayas1998 @jk97bam @jalexad @peterstarkchrishiddleston @yunki-yunki-yunki

[kaixserzz]

The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore and Gn!Child!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 2.4k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | JLM Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

something sweet. dedicated to @idyllic-affections thanks for writing my kaveh rq n this series is inspired by ur acc.. realized i strayed from the real purpose of this fic and made it too long, so just think of it as a 2 in 1 special lol,, (also hi sorry for using dottore he's like my muse and i love writing him) also i hope yall get the meaning of this shit lmao (ref to the scara quest tale)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: strictly platonic/familial, reader is 8 years old, basic dottore warnings, mentions of death, dissecting animals and injuries, implied dottolone (barely), a little ooc but it's canon to me

Dottore's office was once a sacred chamber inside the Fatui headquarters.

While not relatively as pristine as his laboratory, amidst the chaos, there was order. Everything was in its designated place, even though his desk was a nightmare to whoever laid eyes on it (spilled coffee too busy to clean, now dried onto the wood of his table, piles, and piles of documents and papers stacked haphazardly on one another, a disarray of pens and pencils occupying every available niche, and vials filled with who-knows-what dangerously teetering on the edge).

Hazards lurked at every turn within his office, presenting a far-from-presentable façade that seemingly clashed with his position as the 2nd of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. Yet, one might ponder, does the doctor truly concern himself with such matters?

No, not at all. He doesn't have the time to clean everything or keep them in such an organized state. He simply knows everything is in place, and the mess scarcely holds him back (he hires maids once in a while, when the mess gets too much, and in 1 out of 5 maids he hires only makes it out alive).

Yet, what truly imbued this room with a sense of sanctity? For within these walls, he unearthed his genuine solace and tranquility.

In this space, silence reigned supreme. Isolation was his companion, a cherished serenity he embraced. Here, his thoughts danced, inventions took form, and ideas flowed onto paper alongside intricate equations. Occasionally, he'd pass out on his desk and drool all over his papers. This room stood as a shelter inviolable, reserved solely for those few instances of urgency or the presence of a fellow Harbinger.

All other members of the Fatui instinctively bid their time, patiently awaiting his emergence from the sanctum of his office before venturing to approach him. For within its confines, the Doctor was impervious to disruption. No one disturbs the Doctor.

That was before you came along, of course.

The office, ill-suited for a child of your tender years, harbored a minefield of hazards. Within its walls lay various artifacts, concoctions, and intricate machinery, a perilous realm unfit for the innocent curiosity of youth. Regrettably, your presence inadvertently disrupted the serene harmony that had long enveloped this space, unsettling the Doctor who, by nature, dislikes abrupt shifts and deviations from what he was used to.

When you first arrived in his office (he didn't want you inside of it, after all, he wasn't exactly fond of children, but he had no choice) you were immediately injured after stepping onto a shard of glass that Dottore has completely ignored. You tried your very best not to cry for the sake of not irritating Dottore further, but he wasn't very gentle with your wound either.

He took note of keeping his vials away from the edge of his table.

Then a bunch of books topples over you. He puts them into the shelves now, and you helped him organize by using the Dewey Decimal System, to which you had read from a book.

Then, while he was explaining his recent idea (rather enthusiastically) to you, his hand accidentally slammed against his files and flew straight to your face. You also helped him organize his papers.

And then it was cleaning his desk, offering him DIY pencil holders you've made just for him. You've also invented a mug that prevents the liquid inside from spilling (he thinks it was a rather brilliant invention, he no longer has to worry about spilling on his desk).

And then it was putting his rather precarious possessions somewhere else, outside the vicinity of his office and far away from your grasp.

You were very eager to help him in any way possible, and for a child, you quite enjoyed receiving chores. Yet, your contentment was uncomplicated, drawn from the privilege of being granted entry to his treasure trove of knowledge, replete with a limitless collection of books, materials, and tools.

Dottore always thought that you'd be such a nuisance to him once you entered his office and sully the peace he has always known within his office's enclosed haven.

But he didn't expect to welcome your presence at all, on such short notice, too. (Deep inside, he felt a strange warmth in his chest whenever you'd tug on his coat, asking if he needed any assistance with organizing his office. He wonders what it was, though.)

So, here you were, amidst the symphony of pen strokes etching against paper, a solitary melody resonating within the confines of his office.

Contrary to his expectations, the calmness he believed would dissipate upon your arrival had, in fact, been amplified by leaps and bounds. As he observed from the corner of his eye, you reclined on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, immersed in a world of creativity. Strewn across the floor, an assortment of crayons bore testament to your artistic endeavors, while he diligently attended to the papers handed by the Fatui.

Then, as if hesitant to break the comfortable silence, you tried to catch his attention with a soft 'psst!', then covered your mouth with your tiny hand to suppress your childish giggles.

The corners of his lips twitch in irritance amusement as he turns his head toward you, his pen on the desk. You broke into a much bigger grin and held your drawing close to your chest, not wanting to expose it just yet. "Hey, Dotdot!" You whispered to him, and he can't help but roll his eyes smile at the nickname you've given him. "Can I show you what I drew?"

Dottore emitted a contemplative hum as if grappling with the decision of whether to engage or remain absorbed in his thoughts. Your evident impatience manifested in a pout, prompting his response. "Well, fine," He yielded, beckoning you forth. You beamed brightly as you swiftly rose to your feet and bounded toward him, your landing generating a muted grunt from him. A steadying hand rested on the desk, enabling him to regain his composure, after which he settled your giggling form comfortably within the space between his legs. "Now then," He put his hands on your shoulder, "What is it you wished to share?"

With another giggle from your ceaseless childish amusement, you gave him the piece of paper. Big, round eyes sparkling against the light of the room looked up at him expectantly. Dottore received the drawing from you, his gaze lingering over its details, drawn into a moment of shared curiosity and wonder.

It was him, and you, holding hands, depicted with earnest effort and the imaginative touch of your youthful artistry. Around you were a bunch of other versions of him, his segments, though you've only drawn five (since they were the only ones who have interacted with you so far). Each had their names labeled beneath them, but Dottore absolutely adores that you've labeled him as 'Dotdot' instead (you've also drawn Pantalone holding your other hand and labeled him as 'Pants', adorned both figures with encircling hearts).

"Truly remarkable artwork," He stated with a smile, his words accompanied by the sound of your jubilant cheers, "This masterpiece deserves a place of honor, a spot where all can admire it. I can already imagine the joy it will bring to the other segments once they lay eyes on it."

"Really!?"

"Of course, I do believe they enjoy your company, little bunny."

As he carefully set the drawing on his table, your inquisitive gaze caught his attention. With a tilt of your head, a gesture he knew all too well, you asked him a question, "Why do you call me that?"

"Hm? Call you what?" Dottore grabbed you gently and settled you onto his desk. Positioned face to face, at eye level, his intent was clear—to engage with you as both an adult and a child, a balance you seemed to relish.

"Bunny! You call me bunny lots,"

"Oh? Do you not like it?"

You vigorously shook your head, "No no, I love it! I get called nicknames, but they're all mean." You furrow your brow as you reminisced, pouting at the awful memories. But then you broke into a big smile again, "But yours is new and cute! So, why do you call me that?"

Dottore's grin widened, revealing his sharp teeth, a sight that enthralled you. Your hands instinctively moved to his cheeks, your eyes filled with wonder, and he welcomed the touch wholeheartedly. "Ahh, ever so curious, aren't you, little bun?" He teased playfully, giving your nose a gentle boop! with his finger, and your giggles were a delightful response. "You see, I call you bunny because you embody its spirit—small, swift, and an endless source of vibrant energy.

You also love to hop onto people a lot."

"I love giving surprise hugs! I'm too small, so a jump, so I can wrap my arms around them a bit higher!" You huffed as he chuckled at your explanation. "What are you, then? What animal?"

"Oh? I've never thought about what kind of animal I'd be... Hmmm..." Dottore mused for a while, his expression thoughtful. Eventually, he arrived at a decision. "A fox, I think. Crafty, shrewd, and sly. A creature that prowls with a purpose and possesses those distinct, sharp teeth." As he said that, he grins once more to show his sharp teeth, then lunges for your finger, mimicking a bite, prompting you to gasp and pull back with a joyful squeal.

"And speaking of bunnies..." His tone took on a mischievous edge, causing your eyes to widen in anticipation. Suddenly, he swooped in, grabbing your legs and lifting you high into the air. "I might just gobble you up!" Dottore's playful pretense of chomping down on you elicited a cascade of laughter from you. You pushed at his head, trying to escape his 'gobbling' jaws, your legs kicking playfully as you enjoyed the moment.

"I don't think you're a fox, Dotdot!" You quipped, retaking your seat on his desk. Playfully swinging your legs, you mused aloud, a soft humming accompanying your contemplation.

Dottore raised an intrigued eyebrow, "Oh? And what am I in the eyes of my little bunny? Perhaps something more fearsome?" He inquired, looming over you in an effort to intimidate you.

Instead, your eyes lit up brightly, and you joyfully clapped your hands together. "Oh, I've got it! A crow!" You exclaimed with a triumphant smile.

A bemused frown replaced his grin as he processed your unexpected response. "...A crow?" He echoed, clearly puzzled by your choice. "Of all animals?"

And you merely smile at him, giggling at his confused reaction, "Mhm! Yeah! A crow that talks on and on and on." Your hands followed your words, almost hitting him in the face, "A crow that is death and prey over rotting corpses, but a crow that saved me! I thought Dotdot was an angel, but angels don't have black feathers, scary smiles, or red eyes."

Your words painted a vivid picture of your perception, a whimsical and deeply personal perspective on his nature. Dottore nods along, intrigued, as you rambled your thoughts to him, not even chastising you for grabbing the beak of his mask and playing with it.

"You're a crow! You're very smart, and clever, and creative! You're scary to other people, but not to me! I love corvids, I used to feed them bits of animal after I dissect them, and they always bring me something shiny. They were my only friends, and now you're my friend too!"

He doesn't understand the gentle warmth that began to unfurl within his chest as he remained attentive to your words. While unfamiliar, this sensation wasn't entirely unwelcome... "I beg to differ, my dear bunny. I am unmistakably a fox,"

"Then you're a crow pretending to be a fox!" You pout, stubbornly crossing your arms. "I think crows are way cooler than foxes. They can fly! Plus, you can't call yourself a fox when you resemble a crow more than a fox!" You pointed out, a triumphant smirk on your lips.

Well, you do have a point. He does wear a beaked mask, coupled with a bird-like shoulder embellishment bedecked in exquisite black feathers.

"Should I then consider donning attire that better befits a fox?"

At the notion, you fixed him with a mock glare, your cheeks puffing out in an adorable display of discontent. "Nooooo! I prefer Mr. Crow!" you protested with a playful whine, punctuating your words by delivering gentle punches to his shoulders with your tiny hands.

He chuckles at your small tantrum, and he swiftly gathers you into his embrace. Your arms naturally encircled his neck as he rose from his seat, carrying you toward the door, your precious drawing clutched in your hands. "Very well, very well, my dear Mr. Crow it shall remain," He conceded with a playful tone, his steps filled with an easy camaraderie.

Victoriously, you shot him a smug grin, to which he rolled his eyes at.

"Do you wanna know something, Mr. Crow?" You mutter in his ear as he walks past one of his segments.

"Hm? What is it?"

You made sure to whisper it very quietly, hoping the other segments won't hear you. "Between you and me, I think that your younger segments are like rats!"

He didn't know what came over him, he released a hearty, resounding laugh, its volume surprising not just you but also the other segments who happened to be present, each momentarily taken aback by their own affairs. Such an outpouring of mirth was rare for him (only when he was inside his dark, cool lab, alone with experiments).

A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you grinned widely, his laughter infectious as you burst into a fit of giggles. It was a scary laugh, maybe it was just naturally like that, but to you, it sounded very happy. "They bit me once! I was just poking their face."

"Perhaps give them a treat before you approach them," He says, calming down as he continues his trek toward your room. "This gesture might just soften their demeanor."

"What, like cheese?"

"Oh, little bun, that'll drive them even more mad once they found out you called them rats."

You share another grin with him, finding a cozy spot to rest your chin upon his shoulder in contentment, "Good! I think they're funny when their faces turn red."

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[ahdraftingco]

Oneshot: Trouble

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x Innocent!Reader

AO3 Crosspost: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44157645

Summary: Ellie's gone. She ran away a while ago, after she discovered Joel's lie. It was a lie he had to make for his own sake because he couldn't handle losing her but still, he lost her. Now, he walks the wasteland alone, searching for purpose…and that's when he stumbles onto you. A bright, young woman who had gotten through the worst of it without losing her innocence to a world gone mad. If only you knew what was in store for you now that Joel has found a new person to latch onto…

Word Count: 8.2k+

A/N: As always, please read through ALL the warnings before proceeding: porn with plot, dead dove: do not eat (this story is not for the faint of heart so don't say i didn't warn ya), borderline non-con, dark!joel miller, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, age gap, use of the word "daddy"/"baby girl", bondage, forced orgasms, gunplay, praise kink, somnophilia, size difference, genuine fear/peril, death threats, cum play, rough sex, sexual coercion, squirting, breeding kink (unprotected piv, possible pregnancy/pregnancy talk), angst, mentions of violence, degradation, references to death

This fic will contain spoilers to TLOU Part One, so if you haven't played the game, please be aware that I will be referencing canon events. Hope you enjoy the sinister Joel I've made up and yes, I did based the physical description off Pedro Pascal's portrayal of Joel ~ ♡

It's been months since Ellie left Joel. He had gone out to look for supplies, since she had been sick. It wasn't until he got back and saw that she had taken up everything she could carry that he realized it had all been an act to let his guard down.

He had thought they were past what had happened at the hospital, since it's been almost five years, but the truth is…he knew what he had done was unforgivable. She was the cure. She wanted to die for the cause. She knew what she had to do but he was the one who wasn't ready to let her go.

This is the price he will pay for it.

It breaks Joel down more and more every day that passes as he scavenges the east coast, hoping he'll find clues of Ellie's whereabouts somewhere. Though, he taught her well, which meant he was almost certain she'd be hard to find.

If she's smart, which he knows she is, Ellie would've made it to the north before the winter began. That way, there's no chance of Joel ever catching up to her in the snow.

With a heavy sigh, Joel makes his trek up the state highway, weaving through abandoned cars. He'll be in New York soon. There once was a station there, but it quickly grew overcrowded and fell soon after.

Not enough food for people to eat, not enough protection for people to survive.

The infected would be roaming in the city, but Joel knew to avoid the densely populated areas. He didn't want trouble.

And yet, trouble always finds him.

Trouble had a name this time. Your name, though he didn't know it just yet.

Instead, as he watches you from a distance, Joel calls you baby girl in his mind, seeing how much younger you were than him. It was obvious you were older than Ellie though. You were an adult, a young one, but an adult all the same. It makes him wonder how you ended up here all alone.

You're humming to yourself, as if the thought of a threat nearby didn't phase you. It's a song he has heard before. Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks. He can almost hear the guitar riff, but it wasn't anything he could play.

However, at this moment, he wished he could.

Seeing you happily whispering the lyrics to yourself as you take down your laundry fills Joel with a kind of desire that taints his soul. It's dark and twisted, the way he wants to bottle up your joy and keep it all for himself.

How could you be so carefree in a world gone mad? It's as if no one has ever hurt you before.

Maybe…you didn't even know the infected existed.

That's impossible, but it looks like you're completely self-sufficient. You have a lake house and he can see the fishing equipment. You also have a garden with rotating crops that are growing well despite the incoming winter.

Who taught you to live life like this?

Peaceful, alone, without a care.

Joel is almost…disappointed. He'd imagine if anyone else had stumbled upon you, you'd be taken easily. You were like the easiest prey for a hungry predator, since you were clueless to the danger you could be in.

It makes Joel want to protect you…but it also makes him want to own you. There's an insatiable need to show you how much you need him to keep you safe, from people just like him.

So, that's exactly what he's going to do. Joel will make you his. He will weave himself into your life until you can't possibly live without him anymore.

That way, you'd never leave him like Ellie did…

❅❅❅❅❅

Today's catch went swimmingly, as it always does. You reeled in enough to have extra to dry into tasty jerky. Winter is approaching and you start to see your breath in the air, knowing that a storm is brewing. You'll have to start chopping some more firewood to store in the basement in case it's an extra cold winter. The temperature has been dropping every passing year, while the summers have gotten hotter.

You're thankful you won't have to think about summer preparations right now. Having to deal with those forest fires took up so much of your time. Winter is destructive as well, but at least it requires you to stay in instead of slave away all day.

Another winter alone, though. You let out a sigh at the thought. How long has it been since everyone you loved passed away?

You're tired of burying people…

Last month, you had to clean up the house a few miles down the lake. You hated having to do it, but your parents taught you well. The moment someone died, you needed to put them out of their misery or they'd fester and become worse creatures than the resurrected undead.

So, you put a bullet in their head and dug a grave for them. Then, you would spend hours rummaging through their house for any supplies before giving it a good thorough cleaning. It was your way of laying them to rest.

You'll miss that man though. Neither of you exchanged names, but you would trade fish for some of his pepper plants. Sometimes, he'd have canned goods for you that he had made himself. You still have some in your basement now. That'll help for the winter.

All these thoughts help you get through deboning your catch. You light up your wood fire stove so you can make a serving of stew and start the dehydrating process. It isn't until everything is in the pot that you register the rustling outside.

Is that the wind or…no, it can't be.

No one ever comes around these parts. It's so hidden by the trees that only an experienced person would think someone lives out here. That's sort of why your parents bought this house. It was secluded in the best kind of way, which aided a lot when everything went to shit. You were born here, raised here and will likely die here.

However, you weren't expecting that day to come so soon. Whoever is out there…they won't hurt you, will they? Your nerves heighten as you walk towards your door, debating if you should grab your gun.

You don't, because the person knocks.

It's a gentle knock, just three light taps. You calm down a little at that. You figure if it was a malicious person, they'd just break down your door. You haven't ever encountered a malicious person before, since you try not to believe everyone is bad. The people you know have all been kind, despite everything.

You hope this person will be the same.

So, you open your door and…

"Hello there." The older man at your doorstep says in his southern accent. "I was just passing through and I noticed you had a fire going. I don't mean to bother, but would it be alright for me to spend the night here, away from the cold?"

You look the man up and down. He doesn't seem like a threat, though he does have a rifle on his back and a pistol tucked at his belt. He's wearing a brown jacket with a flannel underneath along with several other layers that look like they're getting soaked through from the light snow that's starting already. He has a patchy beard with some grays in it along with soft brown hair that matches his eyes.

The man doesn't look intimidating, besides the weapons he's carrying.

So, you do what your parents had always done when people stumbled upon your little house and tell him, "you can stay the night if you agree to bury your weapons somewhere outside. There's a shovel out back. Choose any spot away from my garden, please."

"I will happily take that offer, thank you." His voice is smooth and gentle, so you ease up a little as you watch him leave to go fulfill your request.

The man returns later with just his bag and as a show of faith, he empties it at the doorstep so you can see what he has in it. You notice how few supplies he has, so you sift through your cabinets for some spare canned goods.

"You can have these." You bring them to him. "I've got plenty."

"You're very kind." He gives you a brief smile before taking the cans from you. "Are you always this welcoming to strangers?"

"I wouldn't call you a stranger. You're simply a traveler passing through. Nothing strange about that in our world."

You quickly leave after you say that to give him a change of clothes, since his are soaked and the spare in his bag doesn't look very warm.

"Would you like to use my bath?" You ask, pointing over at the bathroom down the hall. "I haven't heated any water, so it'll be a minute, but you can take a nice, warm bath if you'd like."

"That sounds wonderful." He seems pleased with your offer. "You're a very good girl, treating me with such hospitality."

"We all deserve some normalcy." You leave him with those words so you can go start the fire for the bath water.

It takes around half an hour to boil enough water in intervals, since your stove is quite small and you can only carry so much water at a time. Though, the man, who lets you know that his name is Joel, helps with that, lugging the pot of water back and forth for you until the tub is filled. You tell him to take his time and that dinner will be ready whenever he's done.

When Joel finishes his bath, he meets you in the kitchen and you pour him a bowl of stew, which you invite him to eat by the fire. You've already eaten your portion so you opt to spend time organizing stock since the storm is coming in stronger than you anticipated. You haven't harvested your winter vegetables yet and you should probably do that now before they get buried.

"Something on your mind?" That southern accent sounds close now and you look up to see Joel standing beside you, empty bowl in his hand. "Thanks for the stew, it was delicious."

You smile, taking it from him so you can quickly wipe it clean and set it aside. Then, you answer his question with a light sigh, "I didn't expect the snow to start falling so quickly. I need to go out and salvage what I can from my garden before I'm snowed in."

"Can I help with that?" Joel offers and you shake your head.

"I can't ask you to do that. You just bathed, plus you're my guest."

"I can always bathe again. You shouldn't be out there alone right now. Let me help." His voice has this tinge of leadership in it that makes you want to follow him, so you eventually agree.

"Alright. In exchange, you can have some of the harvest." You make him a deal.

"Can I ask for something else?" Joel catches you by surprise with that. "Would it be okay if I stayed here until the storm ended?"

"Oh…" He's right. If the storm has started already, he'd be stranded out there if you kicked him out tomorrow.

But, is it really smart to spend an entire storm with a man you've just met?

You can't let him trek through the storm though, so you tell him, "if you help me with some repairs around the house, then you can stay as long as you'd like."

"I'd like that." His smile makes your heart skip a beat.

The rest of the evening is spent shoveling snow and pulling out as many vegetables as you and Joel can carry back and forth to the house before the storm gets significantly worse. You're both soaked head to toe and you're freezing once you both get back into the house. The fire isn't going to warm you up, so you'll definitely need a bath. But, you don't want Joel to get sick, so you offer to have him bathe first, but he declines, since you need to too.

"One of us is going to get sick waiting to bathe." You tell him as you start boiling the water for the bath.

"Then why don't we bathe together?"

Your ears must have been deceiving you and you turn to Joel, who is peeling off his soaked outer layer. He doesn't seem phased at all by what he just said but you're flustered.

"H-how would that work?" You're suddenly feeling warm all over, despite your shivering.

"It'll be like sharing a hot tub." He says with a chuckle. "Just keep your underwear on. I can keep my shirt on too, if you're more comfortable that way."

Now you're embarrassed for a whole other reason. Why did you just assume he meant getting into the bath with him naked? There's no way he'd ask that of you and you feel bad that you even thought such a thing.

"That would work. You don't have to keep your shirt on, but I think I will." You're too shy to be that bare in front of him, but keeping your shirt and underwear on is fine. He doesn't say anything else about it as you both start prepping the bath once again.

When it's ready, you realize there's another problem with this scenario. It's not all that big of a bath. How would you both fit?

"You'll just have to sit between my legs." Joel tells you while he strips. "I'll get in first and guide you into a comfortable position."

You let him take the lead, though you turn away when he pulls off his shirt and don't turn back until you hear him get into the bath. Then, you strip as quickly as you can, leaving yourself in just your shirt and underwear. Joel puts his hand out and you take it, letting him help you in. He has you sitting between his legs, with your back against his chest, and…it's oddly nice.

The bath water is very warm and your shirt rises a little since there's air under it, so you try your best to smooth it out, though that doesn't help much.

"Do you want to take it off?" Joel asks you, his warm breath tickling the back of your ear.

"I…" You would but… "I'm not wearing anything underneath."

You aren't the biggest fan of bras. They're only good when you're exercising or doing some heavy lifting and don't want your breasts to get in the way. So, you don't wear them regularly unless you feel the need to.

"I won't look." He rests his chin on your head. "I'll keep my eyes up so you can get comfy."

That would be nice. It's odd how easy things are around Joel because you feel like you can trust him to do as he says, so you opt to pull off your shirt, tossing it aside. It hits the floor, the wet sound echoing through the room. You adjust yourself so that your breasts are submerged beneath the water and when you tilt your head up, Joel has his lifted to the ceiling, not stealing any glances at you.

Though, it wasn't his eyes you should've been worried about. You hadn't noticed where his hands were resting until you felt one of them slide up to cup your breast and the other slips down into your underwear. You're about to say something but then Joel rolls his thumb over your nipple and you can't stop the light moan that leaves your lips at the sudden sensation.

"Does that feel good, baby girl?" He whispers right into your ear with such sultry affection. "Do you want daddy to keep touching you like this?"

Before you can reply, Joel presses a finger against your entrance and forces his way into you, making you gasp. Your toes curl when his finger does, filling you up so much out of nowhere. It's nothing like when you touch yourself and in combination with his other hand teasing your breasts, you can't hold in the soft whimpers from how good it feels.

You need to tell him to stop, but then he thrusts another finger inside of you and you cry out from how much he's stretching you out. You've never been this full before.

"You're so tight." That word lingers in the air and you're getting dizzy from his seductive tone. "Has no one ever touched you before?"

You shake your head, not knowing why you're able to answer him but not able to tell him to stop…

"Are you telling me this is all mine?" He pushes up against a spot inside of you with his fingers that makes your whole body shiver in reaction. "You're sucking me in, baby girl. I'm jealous of my own fingers."

There's so many questions you want to ask him, like why he's doing this to you and why it feels good even though you shouldn't want a random man you just met to touch you, but none of those questions can be asked when every breath you take is stolen by a moan or whimper.

Something's building inside of you, that tension you've only felt on occasion when you've been bored and masturbated. However, this is even more intense than those times, because you're not the one setting the pace.

Joel is aggressive with his touch, fingering you at a pace you wouldn't be able to. Then, every now and then, he spreads them, reminding you of how big his fingers are as they stretch you out.

You're on the cusp of your orgasm and that scares you.

Why are you about to cum from this?

Why aren't you stopping him!

"Don't hold it in." He urges you to let go. "Cum for your daddy."

You're not my—you can't seem to finish your own thoughts because he's forcing your orgasm onto you, his fingers ruthlessly grinding against that spot inside of you that makes you cum hard. You're thankful you're in the bath right now because you swore, you squirted for the first time. You've never came that much before, tears streaming down your eyes from the intensity of it.

The pleasure sears every inch of your skin, making it hotter than before and the steam from the bath isn't helping your mind calm down. You're getting lost in that daze and it's not ending.

Especially not when Joel keeps going and he adds another finger, spreading you wide open. You're gasping for air from how filled you feel and he must not like that because he takes his other hand and shoves his fingers into your mouth. You gag on them, not expecting to have his fingers invade your mouth, but he doesn't care that you feel that way.

Instead, he goes, "be a good girl and enjoy yourself."

You wonder how you're supposed to enjoy yourself when your mouth is as full as your pussy is but soon enough, you understand. Every moan you want to make is forced back down your throat by his fingers and it's hard to breathe like this but that just causes your body to tense up more around his fingers. They're hitting you so deep inside that you're going to cum again all too quickly.

You try to tell him to stop but your words come out all gurgled up from the saliva pooling up in your mouth since his fingers are playing with your tongue. You're practically drooling and you try to swallow, but that means you have to suck on his fingers to do so, which only riles him up more.

"That's good practice, baby girl." He encourages you to keep doing that to prepare yourself for something else. "I can't wait to bury my cock in this pretty little mouth and your tight wet pussy."

You're on the verge of tears again and you don't know if it's out of fear or arousal as you get closer and closer to your next orgasm. You don't want his cock anywhere near you but you realize then that he's been pressing his hard cock up against your back this whole time. If you thought his fingers filled you up, you were certain his cock would break you.

You start to panic, trying to shove his arm away from you so he can stop fingering you but that only angers him. So, Joel retaliates by pulling his fingers out of your mouth and wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing it hard.

"Don't make me kill you." He threatens and you go completely still. "I don't want to, but if you keep misbehaving, I will."

"Please…" You sob out of pure fear. "Don't hurt me."

"I would never want to hurt you. You're my precious girl, so don't make me do anything I don't want to, okay?" He lightens his hold on your neck then and you inhale as much air as you can, trying to find your composure. "You're going to cum for me again and then I'm going to take you to bed. Understood?"

You don't want to say it but he'll kill you if you don't so you nod and tell him, "I understand."

"Address me correctly when you're talking to me." His fingers press into your neck, as a little warning.

You swallow your nerves then go, "I understand, daddy."

"Good girl. Daddy likes it when you listen." He gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, changing his tone all too easily. "Now, let me spoil my baby girl."

You brace yourself as his fingers curl their way back inside of you, going much more gently this time. Strangely, it's not enough to get you close. His pace is too slow, too soft, and you're trembling from how much you want him to be rougher with you.

"Say what you want." It's like he can read your thoughts. "Tell me and I'll do it for you."

You shouldn't say anything but your body is craving that feeling too much, so you give in and say, "more, please. I want more."

"Do you want me to go faster?" He asks as he does exactly that and you nod profusely. He suddenly slows though, so you know what you have to do.

"Yes, daddy, please go faster." You say what he wants to hear and he ramps up the speed again, giving you what you need. "Please don't stop, I'm so close…"

"I want to see it." Joel growls in your ear before you hear a pop and the plug in the tub is no longer in place. The water suddenly drains out rapidly and you stiffen at the cold air hitting your warm skin. "You better cum a lot for me."

You don't know what he means until he starts to move his fingers side by side inside of you and you squirt uncontrollably, screaming from how forceful he is at drawing your orgasm out of you. You can't think straight because you can't stop cumming, every orgasm gushing out of you against your will.

"Stop!" You shout because it's too much, you're too sensitive now and you're going to pass out. "I keep cumming, I keep–"

"That's good." He slowly corrupts you. "You want to keep cumming. You want to drown in the pleasure only I can give you. Enjoy it, baby girl."

And you do.

You hate how much you end up enjoying it, bathing in such bliss. It consumes you completely…and you faint somewhere along the way. You've never felt so good before. Your body can't handle it and you pass out from the high…

❅❅❅❅❅

Joel dries your hair for you while you're unconscious. He likes how peaceful you look, having fallen asleep to the orgasms he gave you. He wants you to look like this everyday and he'll make sure it happens.

A sweet girl like you deserves to be treated well.

Maybe that's why he can't resist touching you in your sleep. Joel watches as your chest begins to rise and fall more and more with every gentle stroke of his fingers. You're getting so wet for him now. He wonders what you're dreaming of and if he's in it.

He'd like to be. He wants you to only think of him. He's the only one that you need. He's the only one that matters. No one else will take you from him.

Joel refuses to make the same mistake twice. He loved Ellie like a daughter, raising her to be a strong woman. A woman strong enough to leave him in the dust because of a lie he made.

So, he has to be more careful with you. You're malleable, he's certain of that. You'll need some persuading, but you'll listen to him. First, out of fear, but eventually, out of love.

All he needs to do is tie you to him the only way he knows will work…by making you fall for him.

❅❅❅❅❅

It isn't until you wake that you realize your body is still heated from all the orgasms. You're aching from the waist down and you wonder why…until you see Joel between your legs, his tongue dragging up and down your pussy like he's starved for your taste.

How long has he been…you can't even formulate the sentence because he flicks your clit with his tongue and you squirt just a little from how overstimulated you are. A whimper leaves your lips because of it that draws Joel's attention to you and he smiles, happy to see you awake.

"How did you sleep?" His voice is so eerily calm…

You're unsure of how to answer that, so you ask back, "did you sleep?"

He nods. "I slept great, holding you in my arms."

"How long have I been asleep?" You're confused…

"A little over two days."

Your eyes widen at his words. Have you really been passed out for that long?

"Why are you down there?" If you've been asleep, why is he touching you?

"I needed to make sure whenever you were awake that you'd be nice and ready for me." He teases your entrance with three of his fingers before slipping each one inside of you slowly.

You brace yourself, expecting for the sudden stretch to hurt but…it doesn't. His fingers feel thick inside of you, but it's not anything you can't handle.

What did he do to you while you were asleep…

"You're almost ready for me, baby girl." His thumb presses lightly on your clit when he says that, sending shivers through you. "I've opened you up as best I could."

"Please, Joel…" You plead to him. "I don't want this."

"Your body says otherwise." He tells you as he curls his fingers and you nearly cum just from that. "See, you want this. Why are you running from it?"

"You're not giving me a choice." He's throwing himself at you and you're unable to stop him.

"I did give you a choice." Your breath catches in your throat when you hear the safety of your pistol flick off and Joel presses the barrel against your bare chest, right where your heart is. You only notice then that you're completely naked. "Either I kill you, or you enjoy my touch. I had assumed you'd chosen the latter, but if I'm wrong…"

His finger hovers over the trigger and you shake your head profusely, not wanting to die like this, not when his fingers are still teasing your insides. It's unbearable, the weight of the gun on your chest while his fingertips drag along that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

So, you succumb to the scenario you've found yourself in, "you're not wrong. I want this. I'll enjoy myself. I promise."

"Then, cum." He commands, keeping the gun steady on your chest. "Show me you're being honest."

You bite your lip and choke back your own dignity as you grind your hips against his hand, thrusting his fingers inside of you the way you need them to. You gasp when he starts to follow your rhythm, pushing you closer to the edge. It's a great distraction, because you barely notice the way he's trailing the pistol up your chest, but you're well aware of it when it brushes against your lips, forcing you to part them open.

Before you can beg him not to, Joel rests the barrel of the pistol in your mouth, the cold metal coating every one of your taste buds. You gag a little when he drags it against your tongue, but you can't focus on it while his fingers are inside of you. Tears start to stream from your eyes out of sheer terror and the most warped and frightening smile curves on Joel's face the moment he sees you.

That's when he undoes the safety of the pistol yet again and rests his finger on the trigger, his voice more menacing than ever as he goes, "cum for me right now or I'll blow your brains out, baby girl."

Every muscle in your body tightens at the threat and that's all it takes for the tension in your body to explode. You can't tell if you're screaming or moaning as your orgasm ripples through you violently, locking up every sense with nothing but pleasure. You can't feel, you can't see, you can't think.

All you can do is cum because that's what he wants from you.

Relief washes over you when Joel pulls the gun out of your mouth and tucks it away behind his back. His fingers release you from their hold and an empty feeling is tainting your mind. You've been so full for so long that it feels…wrong to be hollow.

How much has he corrupted you? How long is he going to stay until you're exactly what he needs you to be?

His baby girl…

You need to get out of here. You need to run. You need to fight Joel for your life back because you can't be his.

And yet, you can't find it in yourself to shove him away.

Not when he's whispering so softly to you, "good girl, that must've felt great. Let me make you feel even better now."

It isn't until you feel the tip of his cock press against your pussy that you snap back to the reality of it all. You're going to have your first time right now and he's going to fuck you raw.

The last bit of rationality courses through you as you plead, "please, don't do this. I don't have any condoms, I don't want to–"

"It's okay, darlin'." His southern accent sends shivers down your spine. "This is what you were meant for. This is what your body craves. Just let it happen and I'll take care of you."

You claw at his chest the moment he starts to force his way inside of you, his cock stretching you out more than his fingers did. You've never felt this kind of pressure before as he opens you up with every thrust. He doesn't like that you're trying to fight him, so the next time you shove at him, he smacks you right across the face. You gasp at the feeling and he pushes more of himself inside your swollen pussy then, smiling.

"You're so tight and yet you're taking every inch of me." Joel suddenly grabs you by your hair, pulling you forward so you can stare at the way his cock is slowly disappearing inside of you. "Almost there, just a bit more."

"Let me go." You cry out, wanting him to take his hand out of your hair. "Please, it hurts."

"Grab onto the headboard and I will." He makes you a deal and you listen, wrapping your hands around the metal.

His hand leaves your hair, letting your head drop back onto your pillow, and you relax just a bit. It doesn't last though, not when he pulls out a piece of fabric from his pocket and binds your wrists.

"Now, hold on tight, baby girl." His hands rest at your hips now, gripping your flesh. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

You don't understand what he means until he pulls his cock out of you and rams it back inside, hilting all of a sudden. He's too deep, too big and all too much for you.

You try to say something but he raises his hand at you before you can, instructing, "if you want to speak, you better address me correctly or I will have to teach you a lesson."

You swallow at his threat, your throat going dry. Goosebumps rise on your skin and you're scared to say anything but you want him to be gentle. He'll break you if he keeps being this rough.

So, you stuff your pride away and beg, "please go slowly, daddy."

His smile softens then, liking how you've listened, and he rewards you by rolling his hips, letting you get used to him being inside of you, grinding himself back and forth against every spot that makes your pussy tingle.

It's starting to feel good and that's frightening because you're biting back your whimpers. You can't enjoy this. It's wrong. He's taking you by force and yet your body is desperate enough to meet him halfway, wanting more.

"Does my baby girl enjoy being fucked?" Joel adjusts a bit so that he can thrust upwards into you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. "Tell me you do."

You keep your mouth shut, not wanting to say a word, and he doesn't like that at all. So, when you're right at the cusp of your orgasm, he pulls out of you, leaving you struggling against your restraints.

"If you want it, say it." He starts to rub his hard cock against your pussy, teasing your sensitive clit with the tip of it. It's torture because it's not enough to get you there.

You need more. You need him inside of you.

Joel takes his time to torment you, dipping into you just a bit before pulling out, dropping his cock over and over again on your pussy, rubbing circles around your clit.

Eventually, you can't handle the denial anymore so you cave and go, "please fuck me. I want to cum."

"Say it again." He wants you to embarrass yourself further and your skin burns from it.

"I want to cum. Please fuck me. I need you, daddy." You add on, hoping that's enough.

It is, because the moment he thrusts inside of you, you cum. You cum all over his cock and he rewards you by fucking you harder, making your orgasm even more intense. You're gasping for air because it doesn't seem to stop. You're throbbing inside and every thrust sends such waves of pleasure through you.

"You're milking my cock so well." He praises you. "Someone's desperate for my cum."

Your eyes widen when you realize he must be close from the way he's pumping into you and you panic, "please cum outside, don't cum in me."

"How am I supposed to cum outside when you're not letting me go?" He tries to pull out but your pussy is gripping onto him too tightly.

"No, don't, please." You can't get pregnant. You can't have a baby with a man you've just met. You can't…but he won't let you decide otherwise.

"You'll feel so much better once you're all filled up." Joel reassures you in the worst way possible. "Soon, you'll beg for it."

There's no way you would. Why would you ever want such a thing?

"Enjoy it." He says sweetly to you, looking at you with such affection. "We won't be able to fuck much when you're pregnant, so it's best to make every time count."

You want to ask why he wants you of all people, a random girl he met in the middle of the woods in the winter, but you're certain he won't have an answer. Perhaps this was all just bad timing and even worse luck.

It doesn't feel like much at first, when he finishes inside of you. It's hot and it spills out of you when he pulls away. Joel takes his time, pushing as much cum as he can back inside of you. You hate the orgasms you have from that simple action.

It isn't until the second time that it feels…primal. You can't explain it, but when he's fucking you like a feral animal, you find yourself leaning into it. Your body isn't in tune with your mind anymore. It's not listening to your pleas because it knows it feels good to be taken by him. He never hurts you unless you do something he doesn't like, which is rare. He only ever wants you to feel pleasure.

Days go by of this, of just…constant breeding. You will sleep, then wake up, fuck, have breakfast, fuck, have lunch, fuck, do house chores then fuck in the shower afterwards, then eat dinner which always ends with you bend over the dining table because you're the meal he's actually hungry for. This cycle repeats until you get your period.

The disappointment on Joel's face stings. It's like you failed him. You couldn't give him what he wanted. You don't like the feeling…but a tiny voice in your head reminds you that you shouldn't want to please him anyways.

During your period, Joel teaches you how to suck his cock, since he can't fuck you. As a reward for learning, he caters to you, helping you with your cramps, rubbing your belly when it aches, cuddling you like you're the love of his life. It's…jarring, to say the least. You'll go from him fucking your face to him caressing your back and whispering sweet words to you.

Run. That tiny voice yells into the abyss that is your mind right now. Run far away from here.

You want to listen but…where would you go? You grew up here. You don't know anywhere else. This is your home and he's the intruder.

An intruder who's making himself at home.

"Does your stomach still hurt?" Joel asks because you've tensed up against him, your thoughts influencing your nerves.

"A little." You lean into his chest, not because you want to, but because he's warm and the winter has been cold. "I'll be okay."

"You'll always be okay, baby girl." He presses a soft kiss on your forehead, taking in a long breath before saying, "I'll keep you safe."

Safe from who? You wonder, because you aren't safe from him…

❅❅❅❅❅

Another month passes and you're late. You counted the days, mainly because Joel made you, and you're late. You've never been late before, which can only mean…

"We won't know for sure, but we can find out." You suggest. "There's a convenience store a few miles up. There's no food there, but there's plenty of pregnancy tests. I remember seeing them."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, hoping he'll take the bait. Please say yes.

You need to get him away from your house. You need to kill him but you can't do it here. You need to do it somewhere he isn't familiar with.

A place where you know a gun is hidden.

"Better to be sure." Joel agrees to the trip. "But you're coming with me."

"Okay." You knew you'd have to. "I'd like to walk with you. It's a nice hike, now that the snow has melted."

The rest of the day is spent preparing for the day trip. When it's finally time to sleep, you're surprised to feel Joel's cock harden behind you as he spoons you. He rubs himself against you and you hate how your body reacts to it, leaning into the feeling.

"Just to be sure." He whispers to you and you know what he means. He doesn't have to say much else.

You feel him nudge you until you're on your hands and knees and he's situated behind you, pulling down your pajama pants. Joel lines his cock up at your entrance and in one single motion, he fills you to the very brim. You can't hold in your moan, not when his body is pressing down onto you, engulfing you completely as he starts to pound into you.

"How does it feel to be mine, my sweet baby girl?" He asks, his hips meeting your ass perfectly.

"So good." You don't lie because you know it'll be the last time you do this with him. "Please don't stop, daddy."

"Never." He says, grabbing you by your hair so that he can kiss the back of your head. "I wouldn't dream of letting you go."

With his hand still in your hair, Joel continues to fuck you from behind, tugging you back to meet him. His lips on yours are sloppy, but you kiss him back, feeling connected with him on all levels. Your body moves against his in perfect harmony and you drown in the moment

It isn't until he whispers the words "I love you" that your heart pinches just a bit, remembering the reality. You're going to kill him tomorrow, this man who loves you in a sick and twisted way.

"Fill me up." You whisper back, giving him something else, since you can't give him your love. "I need you, Joel."

That's enough for him to finish inside of you, the heat spilling into you in waves. His cock pulses inside of you for a few moments before he pulls out and lays back beside you.

You go back to the way you were laying before, and he spoons you to sleep. You wonder what it'll feel like to sleep alone, now that you've slept with someone for this long.

You're going to miss it…maybe even him too…

❅❅❅❅❅

Now that the snow has thawed, the ground is much less muddy. You still had to wear your boots, which aren't uncomfortable but they're harder to run in. You don't think you'll need to run but…you want to stay prepared.

Joel tells you a bit more about himself on the walk to the convenience store. You're unsure if you want to know more about the man you're about to kill, but you can't refuse him, so you listen.

You don't expect him to tell you about Sarah…but now everything makes sense. Perhaps, he's been waiting for a chance to make things right. To raise a child who won't end up dying in his arms and leaving him forever.

You clutch your stomach when he's not looking, scared of your own mind. Scared that the tiny voice in your head is now whispering guilty thoughts…

You can't. It's not reasonable to have a child in a world like this. Especially not with a man like him.

You say that, but Joel has warped you in a different way. You won't lie and say you won't miss him when he's gone. It's hard not to miss someone you've spent the last two months getting to know in more intimate ways than two normal strangers would.

As a war breaks out in your mind, you and Joel get to the convenience store. The front glass is shattered, but it's always been like that. Looters at the very beginning of it all broke it, which is why there's moss going on the shards that were left behind. That's what your parents told you.

You miss them more and more with each passing day. They were well-prepared to have you, knowing they've set up a little oasis in the middle of disaster.

You can't have this child with Joel. You're ill-prepared to be a mother. You're unsure if Joel would even be a good father, even if he claims that's all he wants to be.

Would a good father taint someone else's daughter the way he has tainted you?

You hold back your sigh as you and Joel walk over the glass to get into the store. It's a small store, so it's not difficult to find what you're looking for. You wonder if these will even work, since they probably have an expiration date, but you just have to know.

For your own sake, more than Joel's.

Once you've packed a fair amount of pregnancy tests into your bag, you tell Joel that you've stashed some canned goods behind the counter in the off chance you might get stuck out and about, and you wanted to check if they were still there. It's not a lie, but you stashed a gun there too.

So, you go to the floorboard you hid everything under and pull it open and—

The sound of a gun's safety flicking off freezes you in your tracks. You swallow, hard.

Fuck, did Joel figure it out? You're too frightened to look up, scared that you'll be staring into the barrel of a gun.

But then, a new voice appears and she goes, "step away from her, Joel."

You glance up then and your eyes meet the girl's for a second. She's young, maybe barely eighteen, and yet she wields the gun you had hidden in the floorboards like she's used to handling them. That thought should worry you, but you're more worried about how she knows Joel.

Did he…do something to her too?

"Ellie, please." Joel pleads, his hands up. "Don't take her away from me."

"I know what you did to her." Ellie has her finger on the trigger, ready to shoot him. "I saw what she put in her bag."

"She's pregnant. We're going to be a family." He tries to reason with her. "Come back with us. We have a home. You'll have a little brother or sister soon. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"You're sick, Joel." She gestures for you to come over to her and even though Joel's eyes pierce into yours to stop you, you still make the trek over to her. Once you're securely behind her, she continues her harsh words to Joel, "you don't know what it means to be family. Family wouldn't do this, wouldn't do the things you've done."

"I can change. I can do better. I'm sorry."

You've never seen Joel so weak before. The once scary man that held you captive is now cowering before this girl.

"Sorry won't bring them back." Ellie tells him and you wonder what she means by that. "So, don't come looking for us. I'm taking her and I'm leaving now."

"Please, don't take her." He begs, his voice cracking as he goes, "I love her."

You open your mouth to say something, but Ellie stops you. Maybe she knows what you're about to say, or maybe she just doesn't want you to say it back to him. Not that you would…right?

"This isn't love, Joel." She tells him for you. "Whatever this is…it sure as fuck isn't love. I'm sorry. You did this to yourself."

The moment those words leave her mouth, she shoots Joel. You cover your ears at the sudden sound as it echoes through the quiet.

You hear Joel scream and you realize then that Ellie didn't shoot him in the head. She shot him in the leg, so he couldn't catch up to you two.

"We have to go, now." She grabs your hand and you both start to run.

Run, that voice comes back in your mind, run and don't look back.

❅❅❅❅❅

You and Ellie take a break once you're a good distance away from the convenience store. You give her some of your water, since it looks like she's low on supplies. She asks you about what happened and…you tell her. Not in full detail, but enough.

"That fucker." She seems angry at Joel for more than just what he did to you, but you won't pry about what exactly.

"Who is he to you?" You ask Ellie, wanting to know that instead.

"He's trouble. The kind of trouble I need the strength to take care of before he hurts anyone else…" She says, the anger leaving her voice as a sadness seeps in, "but I'm not strong enough yet. I couldn't kill him…but I will one day."

You can tell she doesn't want to, and you understand why. You might be the only one out there who understands her because you feel the same way.

There's no way Joel isn't looking for you two.

So, your journey with Ellie begins. You're both on the run from Joel, but also finding the will to hunt him too. All while wondering if he's imprinting himself onto you the way he wanted to.

You press your hand on your stomach and chills run through you.

You should've known Joel was trouble the moment he walked through your front door…

A/N: I've always wanted to write a villain!joel since I feel like it actually fits his character a lot, if he was given the right set of circumstances. I also am a big fan of the "I need to kill him before he kills me" trope, but with a twist! The addition of Ellie in this part makes me really happy and gets my mind rolling. The latter half of this one-shot is very plot-heavy, which is new for me but I kind of like it? It really builds up to a possible sequel! So, if you're interested in a sequel, please let me know! This really does have the potential to be a whole series ♡

[bbobpul]

takes one to know one — yjh

PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x fem reader SUMMARY. two con artists falling in love. that's it. GENRE. angst, fluff, strangers to lovers W/C. 5.4k NOTE. this is heavily inspired by cowboy like me by ts.

*⁠･⁠゜ﾟ⁠(⁠^⁠O⁠^⁠)⁠↝ my other works

i've established a fundamental rule for every man who enters my life—never inquire about a woman's salary, especially if you're not prepared for unexpected answers. equally important, never pry into her profession, as my own job defies easy categorization. it's a realm of uncertainty where providing a definitive answer becomes impossible. my friends have consistently cautioned me about the perils associated with this dubious line of work, but i've always possessed a natural talent for it. engaging in cunning schemes and orchestrating elaborate hustles, i've honed my skills in swindling older men and navigating the shadowy corners of the world.

i'm well aware that the consequences of my chosen path will eventually catch up to me, and it's likely that i will soon pay the price with the wealth from my old man of course. despite the risks, i find a certain thrill in the art of deception, even as the looming specter of retribution hangs over my head, a constant reminder that my actions may not go unpunished.

"didn't you promise me you'd stop doing this and find a real job?" my friend, vernon, asked with a tinge of disappointment in his eyes.

i paused, still in the process of packing my bags, and turned to face him, hands resting on my hips. he had rushed to my apartment when i mentioned that i'd be traveling to italy for a wedding that my old man had asked me to attend on his behalf, promising me money in return. of course, i agreed without hesitation.

"i need quick money right now, vernon," i explained, hoping he would understand the urgency.

"quick money? but you'll be spending a whole week there!" he exclaimed, concern evident in his voice.

"i'll be fine, i promise," i reassured him, trying to sound confident. "and this will be the last time, i swear." the words slipped out, and i knew that it was a promise i had made before, but this time, i wanted to believe it myself. i was determined to make a fresh start after this, to step away from the risky world of deception and embrace a different path. yet, in the back of my mind, doubt lingered like a shadow, a reminder of the allure and thrill that had kept me ensnared in my dubious endeavors for far too long.

vernon's concern deepened, his brow furrowing with worry. "and what if that old man catches on to your deception, hmm? you mentioned before that you feel like he's becoming a little suspicious of you," he reminded me.

i sighed, feeling the weight of his words and the gravity of the situation. "do you know why he asked me to go to italy on his behalf?" i began, my voice tinged with a mix of emotions. "it's because he's dying, vernon. his suspicions don't seem to matter much anymore when he's in the hospital, confined to limited movements." i paused for a moment, trying to process the irony of it all. despite everything, that old man still trusted me, even in his vulnerable state. it was both astonishing and absurd, a testament to the web of deception that i had skillfully woven.

suppressing a laugh that threatened to escape, i continued, "it's almost funny, isn't it? how he continues to place his faith in me, even when i'm not the most trustworthy person in the world." my words held a hint of self-awareness, an acknowledgment of the dichotomy between the trust others had in me and the deceit i had become accustomed to.

"but you won't do anything too risky, right?" vernon asked, genuine concern etched across his features.

"i'll be cautious, i promise," i assured him, trying to quell his worries. "i'll tread carefully this time, and once i'm back, i'll seriously start considering other options for my future."

vernon nodded, his gaze filled with understanding and a glimmer of hope. he had seen me through thick and thin, always hoping for the best for me. as we continued our conversation, i couldn't help but wonder if this trip to italy would be the catalyst for the transformation i so desperately sought, the chance to leave behind a life of deception and embrace the possibility of change. only time would tell if i could truly break free from the grasp of my dubious past and step into a future defined by authenticity and honesty.

vernon's worry deepened, his eyes reflecting concern as he voiced his fears.

"but what if that trip to italy is a trap, and he's planning to harm you? what if he's not as trusting as you think he is?"

i let out a scoff, shaking my head dismissively. "nah, that's not going to happen," i replied with a hint of nonchalance. "he's way too in love with me. he showers me with everything i want, from money to extravagant gifts. i've got him wrapped around my finger."

vernon's expression remained skeptical, clearly not convinced by my casual reassurance. "but you never know, these things can get dangerous," he cautioned.

"i'll be fine, vernon. trust me," i said, trying to sound more confident than i actually felt. while i might have been skilled at swindling and hustling, the risks were never lost on me. yet, the allure of easy money and luxury was hard to resist, and the dangerous game i played had become almost addictive.

vernon sighed, clearly worried but knowing that my mind was made up. "just promise me you'll be careful, okay? i don't want anything bad happening to you," he implored.

i gave him a small smile, touched by his concern. "i promise, i'll be cautious. and when i come back, i'll seriously consider finding a legitimate job," i assured him, hoping that one day, i could break free from the cycle of deceit and find a more honest path in life.

deep down, i knew the risks of my actions, and the consequences of my choices could catch up with me sooner or later. yet, for now, i couldn't resist the temptation of the easy money, and i was willing to take my chances, even if it meant living on the edge. only time would reveal the true price i would pay for my actions, but for now, the allure of luxury and power overshadowed any doubts i had about the dangers that lay ahead.

———————

standing at the airport bar, i fought the urge to let exhaustion consume me. i had a flight to catch, and i couldn't afford to miss it. as i sipped on a cup of coffee, its bitter taste jolting me awake, i couldn't help but reflect on the promise i had made to vernon and, more importantly, to myself. after this trip to italy, i would put an end to the cycle of deceiving men and, in the process, deceiving myself.

the hum of conversations and the clatter of luggage filled the air around me as travelers bustled about, each with their own destination and purpose. it was in this bustling atmosphere that i found a moment of clarity, a chance to confront the choices i had made and the path i had chosen.

italy, with its romantic allure and lavish settings, seemed like the perfect place for me to reflect on my life. it was a place of beauty and indulgence, but it also carried the weight of my actions and the consequences i knew i had to face. as i waited for my flight, the anticipation mingled with a sense of unease, knowing that this trip would mark a turning point in my life.

i watched the clock ticking away, counting down the minutes until my departure. the exhaustion threatened to pull me into a slumber, but i resisted, determined not to let my guard down. this was my chance for redemption, for reclaiming my authenticity and finding a path that didn't rely on deception and manipulation.

the memories of the men i had fooled and the lies i had spun danced through my mind, serving as a stark reminder of the emptiness that lay beneath the surface. the allure of material wealth and the thrill of manipulation had lost their luster, leaving behind a hollow ache that called for something more meaningful and genuine.

as i prepared to board the plane, i made a silent vow to myself. this trip would mark the end of an era, the final chapter of a life built on lies and illusions. it was time to redefine my identity, to find a purpose beyond swindling and hustling. i craved a life where authenticity and integrity took precedence over quick money and fleeting pleasures.

with each step i took toward the boarding gate, a sense of determination and renewal washed over me. i was ready to embark on a journey of self-discovery, leaving behind the shadows of my past and embracing a future filled with honesty and genuine connections.

as i settled into my seat on the plane, the engines humming in the background, i closed my eyes and envisioned a new chapter unfolding before me. italy awaited, not just as a picturesque backdrop, but as a symbol of transformation and redemption. it was here, amidst the rich history and vibrant culture, that i would find the strength to let go of my old ways and embrace a life defined by truth and authenticity.

the plane soared into the sky, carrying me closer to my destination and to the promise of a fresh start. with each passing moment, i could feel the weight of my past choices lifting, replaced by a glimmer of hope and the belief that i could rewrite my story.

italy beckoned, and i was ready to answer its call, ready to face the challenges that awaited me with newfound determination and an unwavering commitment to change.

———————

draped in my elegant brown silk dress and a luxurious fur scarf adorning my shoulders, i scanned the surroundings, taking in every detail and every individual present. the tennis court, usually a place of athletic competition, was now concealed under a vast tent-like structure, transforming it into a lavish setting for the gathering of the fabulously wealthy. as i mingled among the opulent crowd, their chit-chat filled the air, each conversation seemingly a display of privilege and excess. amidst the extravagance, i felt like an outsider, desperately searching for a glimmer of authenticity or a soul that resonated with my own.

in the midst of the sparkling affluence, i yearned for something out of place, something that would mirror the way i felt within this sea of wealth and pretense. despite my chic attire and seemingly effortless composure, i sensed a disconnection, as if i didn't quite belong in this world of opulence. as i observed the interactions around me, i couldn't help but feel like an anomaly, an intruder in this realm of excess. yet, amid the sea of superficiality, i held onto the hope of finding a kindred spirit, someone who, like me, sought authenticity amidst the facade.

as if guided by fate, my gaze fell upon a figure that stood out amidst the crowd, effortlessly captivating the attention of a group of accomplished women. his long, flowing black hair danced in the gentle breeze, a striking contrast to the sophisticated setting. i couldn't help but notice his captivating smile, a smile that mirrored the charm and allure i employed in my dealings with older, wealthier men. it was a smile that concealed secrets, shared understanding, and a shared purpose.

intrigued, i took note of his attire, which stood in stark contrast to the designer labels that adorned most of the guests. his suit, though not designer, exuded an air of confidence and nonconformity. in that moment, a spark of recognition ignited within me, revealing a kindred spirit. i understood that he, like me, had joined this gathering for the same purpose—to swindle the old and affluent. it's like the universe had conspired to bring us together, two souls navigating the delicate dance of deception amidst a sea of privilege.

as our eyes locked, it felt as if he had uncovered the secrets that lay hidden within me. there was an unspoken understanding that passed between us, a mutual recognition of the deceptive paths we had chosen. his approach filled me with a mix of excitement and trepidation, uncertain of what this encounter might entail.

with a boldness that mirrored my own, he asked, "care to dance?" his words carried an air of challenge, as if daring me to venture into the dangerous territory of intimacy.

"dancing is a pretty dangerous game," i replied, offering him my hand nonetheless. i couldn't deny the allure of this intriguing stranger, and in that moment, i decided to embrace the perilous dance that fate had orchestrated. with each step on the dance floor, i knew that i was willingly entangling myself in a web of deception and desire, aware of the risks, yet captivated by the undeniable connection we shared. together, we moved to the rhythm of the music, two kindred spirits lost in a world of shadows and secrets.

"what do they call you?" i inquired, fully aware that he wouldn't reveal his true identity.

"why do you want to know me?" he responded, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"oh, i know who you are, or rather, what you are," i replied, a hint of mystery lacing my words.

"jeonghan," he revealed, the corners of his lips curling into a playful smile. "and you are?"

"y/n," i divulged, surprised by my own willingness to share my real name. there was something about him that inspired a sense of openness, a desire to let down the barriers and reveal my true self. in this clandestine dance we were engaged in, honesty became a dangerous yet irresistible allure.

as the music swirled around us, i found myself entranced by the rhythm of the dance, not caring about the curious gazes or whispered speculations from onlookers. in that moment, all that mattered was the connection i felt with jeonghan, the exhilaration of living in the present and embracing the unexpected.

our bodies moved in perfect harmony, as if we had danced together countless times before. the world around us faded into the background, and it was just us—two strangers bound by secrets, drawn together by a shared purpose.

as the afternoon sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the scene, i couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and contentment. this was my last dance, my final foray into a world of deception and illusion. the allure of quick money and the thrill of swindling were losing their grip on me, replaced by a desire for something more genuine, something real.

as the last notes of the music filled the air, we slowly came to a stop, still holding each other close. i looked into jeonghan's eyes, feeling an unspoken connection between us. it was a connection forged in the shadows, a shared understanding of the life we had led and the choices we had made.

"care to escape the crowd for a while?" jeonghan inquired, a playful glint in his eyes, after our dance had ended.

"absolutely," i replied with a hint of excitement, feeling drawn to this enigmatic stranger. without hesitation, he extended his hand, and i willingly placed mine in his, letting him lead me away from the bustling venue. it was a daring move, following someone i had just met, but an inexplicable connection urged me to take this leap into the unknown.

together, we ventured out into the serene countryside, the distant music fading into the background as we strolled along the quiet, deserted roads. the air was cool and refreshing, the gentle breeze caressing our faces like a gentle reminder of the freedom we had found in each other's company. with every step, it felt as if the world around us melted away, leaving only the two of us, our souls entwined in a moment of shared intimacy and understanding.

curiosity tinged my voice as i questioned jeonghan about his familiarity with the secluded surroundings. "how do you know this place?" i inquired, hoping to unravel the mystery behind his intimate knowledge.

a playful smile curved his lips as he confessed, "i've been here for over a week, exploring the hidden corners and secret gems that this countryside has to offer." his response intrigued me, raising more questions than answers. what had brought him to this remote location? what secrets did he carry within him?

turning the tables, jeonghan posed a question of his own, his gaze fixed on me with an intense curiosity. "why are you here?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine intrigue. it was a query that delved deeper than the mere physical presence in this particular place.

caught off guard by his question, i hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much i should reveal. but something in his eyes, a glimmer of understanding, encouraged me to be honest. "someone asked me to be here," i confessed, my voice filled with a mix of resignation and defiance. it was an acknowledgment of the role i had played, the choices i had made, and the path i had walked until this moment.

a knowing smile played on jeonghan's lips, and his words lingered in the air like a delicate secret shared between two kindred souls. "i know what you are, y/n," he uttered, his voice carrying a weight of wisdom and experience.

a flicker of surprise danced across my features as his words hit their mark. it was an unexpected revelation, a mirror reflecting the truth i had concealed beneath layers of secrecy. in that moment, our connection deepened, as if we were two sides of the same coin, united by our shared understanding of the world we had chosen to navigate.

a mischievous gleam sparkled in his eyes as he countered my confession with a cryptic response, "it takes one to know one." his words held a sense of truth and recognition, unveiling the hidden layers of our identities that we had sought to protect. in this dance of mystery and intrigue, we stood as equals, each harboring our own secrets, united in our unspoken understanding of the shadows we both inhabited.

"engaged in the art of hustling for a better life, weaving intricate tales tailored to their desires," he disclosed, peering into the depths of my existence with a knowing gaze. his words seemed to peel away the layers of my life, exposing the intricacies that lay beneath the surface.

his voice carried a hint of admiration as he remarked, "you're just like me, driven by a single aspiration. nothing else but a taste of luxury, perhaps a fancy car to symbolize our triumph." in that moment, it felt as if our souls had connected, recognizing a shared pursuit of dreams and aspirations that transcended societal norms and expectations.

i breathed in the cool evening air, contemplating my confession. "this will be my last one, you know?" i admitted, my voice tinged with a mix of resolve and uncertainty.

jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving mine. "your conscience is starting to eat you?" he speculated, seemingly trying to understand my motivations.

"no," i replied firmly, shaking my head. "it's just that... i've realized there's more to life than this. i want to break free from this cycle, from lies and deception. i want something different, something real." as the words left my lips, i could feel a glimmer of hope blossoming within me, the possibility of a new path emerging from the ashes of my past.

his laughter cut through the air, a mixture of amusement and cynicism. "well, good luck with that," he chuckled, his voice laced with a hint of skepticism. "you can never really escape from this, you know? i'm sure you understand deep down that you'll soon pay for your lies. so why bother stopping?"

i met his gaze, my determination unyielding. "because i refuse to be defined by my past mistakes," i replied, my voice steady. "i may have been caught in this web of deception, but i believe there's a chance for redemption. i want to find my own truth, my own path, even if it means breaking free from the comfort of this lifestyle. i want to create a future that's not built on deceit and illusion."

jeonghan's eyes searched mine, a mix of curiosity and disbelief flickering within them. "it's a dangerous game we play," he murmured, his voice tinged with a touch of resignation. "but if you're determined to find a different path, then i won't stand in your way. just be prepared for the consequences that await."

with a nod, i acknowledged his warning, aware of the challenges and risks that lay ahead. yet, deep within me, a flicker of hope burned brightly, driving me to seek a life of authenticity and purpose. as jeonghan and i stood there, on the outskirts of the countryside, we both carried our own burdens and desires, each embarking on a journey that would test the limits of our resolve and reshape our destinies.

"how about you?"

a wistful smile crossed his lips as he shook his head. "oh, no, no. this is my life now," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and acceptance. "i've traveled too far down this path to turn back. swindling, hustling—it's become my way of survival."

i could sense the weight of his words, the burden of a life immersed in deception. it was a stark reminder of the choices we make and the consequences they entail. while i sought a chance at redemption, jeonghan appeared resigned to his fate.

"anyway, about the man who sent you here, do you worry that he might discover your deception? i mean, you plan to leave once everything is done."

"well, i won't make a quick exit. once i secure the money in a week, i might extend my stay here for a little while longer. but honestly, i couldn't care less about him."

"what's amusing is that he genuinely believed i was the one for him," i added.

———————

in the few weeks that passed, as our conversations deepened and our connection grew stronger, it felt as if jeonghan and i were bound by an invisible thread, drawn together by an inexplicable force. despite the brevity of our encounter here in italy, it was as though we had known each other for a lifetime. the barriers of deceit that we had carefully constructed around ourselves seemed to crumble in the presence of our shared understanding.

late-night conversations turned into early morning musings as we explored the intricacies of our lives and the desires that lay hidden beneath the surface. it was as if we could read each other's thoughts without uttering a single word. our interactions transcended the realm of superficiality, delving into the depths of our souls, where vulnerability and authenticity resided.

the days passed in a blur as we reveled in the joy of this newfound connection. the enchanting conversations and the understanding that unfolded between us left me yearning for more, eager to discover the depths of jeonghan's soul and to share the complexities of my own.

as our bond deepened, i found myself opening up about the life i had led, the choices i had made, and the reasons that had driven me to become a hustler. jeonghan, too, shared the secrets of his past, the shadows that had shaped his present, and the dreams that lingered within his heart.

with each passing day, it became clear that jeonghan and i were kindred spirits, seeking solace in each other's company, even amidst a world of deception and duplicity. our connection was rooted in a shared understanding of the emptiness that lurked beneath the surface of our extravagant lifestyles, a void that could only be filled by genuine connections and authentic experiences.

as we strolled along the familiar road, hand in hand, i couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in jeonghan's presence. the gentle breeze rustled our hair, carrying with it the sweet scent of the countryside. passing by, i noticed a group of curious ladies sharing hushed whispers and intrigued glances as they observed us. it seemed our connection had not gone unnoticed, but their curiosity was of little concern to us.

"what really is your name?" i asked, my fingers interlocked with his.

a soft chuckle escaped jeonghan's lips, amusement dancing in his eyes. "i already told you the first time we met, y/n," he replied, a touch of playfulness evident in his response. his voice, like a gentle melody, brought a sense of familiarity, as if we were revisiting the moment we first encountered each other in italy.

i had initially believed that my encounter with jeonghan would be just another fleeting moment in my life, but now i realize that it has changed me in ways i never expected. he showed me the possibility of genuine connection, and i've come to the realization that i may never experience love again. however, this moment also marks the end of my deceptive ways. from now on, i'm committed to being truthful and sincere in all my actions and relationships.

as i reflect on my newfound commitment to honesty, i can't help but be plagued by uncertainties about jeonghan's true intentions. despite my declaration to leave behind my deceitful ways, i wonder if he shares the same perspective. is he genuinely on the same page as me, or does he view me differently from the people he usually interacts with in his games? am i truly special to him, or am i just another player in his world?

these questions linger in my mind, causing a mix of excitement and trepidation. i find myself analyzing every interaction, trying to discern if his feelings match mine. as we continue to spend time together, i observe the small gestures, the lingering glances, and the moments of shared laughter. they all hint at a deeper connection, but i remain cautious not to let my heart run wild with assumptions.

like the elusive hanging gardens of babylon, whose existence remains a mystery with only written accounts to rely on, i find myself clinging to the words of jeonghan, the person i've come to love. yet, doubt and uncertainty cloud my heart, mirroring the ambiguity that shrouds those ancient gardens.

with each passing day, my emotions hang delicately in the balance, swaying between hope and fear. i yearn to believe that jeonghan is sincere, but a lingering unease gnaws at my soul. like the whispers of ancient tales, the cautionary voices of my past experiences caution me against trusting too easily.

but despite the shadows of doubt, i choose to stay, entangled in the tender moments we share. my heart longs for the promise of love, even as the world around us feels uncertain and veiled. the fragile threads of our connection hold me captive, as i navigate the intricacies of falling for someone whose truth i cannot fully grasp.

in the midst of this emotional maze, i remain suspended, clinging to the spoken word, hoping that the beauty of our love will transcend the uncertainties and blossom like the mythical gardens of babylon. yet, beneath it all, a melancholic undercurrent persists, as i wonder if our love is destined to be as elusive and enigmatic as the ancient wonders of the world.

as my doubts and worries consumed me, jeonghan's perceptive nature picked up on my silent contemplation, prompting him to break the silence with his heartfelt words.

"you know, y/n," he began, his voice laced with a blend of sincerity and conviction. "i firmly believe that each person is granted three significant chances in their lifetime, pivotal moments that shape their destiny. and i am unequivocally certain that you, y/n, are the most significant turning point in mine."

his words washed over me, carrying a weight and significance that pierced through the walls of my uncertainty. i gazed into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit, but all i found was sincerity and vulnerability. jeonghan's admission left me at a crossroads, torn between my apprehensions and the undeniable connection we shared.

"three chances?" i repeated softly, my heart fluttering with both hope and trepidation. the notion of being a pivotal figure in his life stirred a mix of emotions within me, wondering if i could truly embrace such a role.

"yes," he continued, his voice steady and earnest. "i've spent so much of my life playing games and deceiving others, but you've changed something in me. i can't quite explain it, but i feel like you've given me a chance at something real, something genuine."

the vulnerability in his words struck a chord deep within me. i had always believed in second chances, but the idea of being one of his three felt both daunting and meaningful. part of me yearned to believe in the possibility of a transformative connection, while another part remained guarded, afraid to get swept up in the whirlwind of emotions.

as the words hung in the air, the weight of the moment became palpable. i could feel the gravity of our connection, the potential for something profound and life-changing. but was i ready to take that leap of faith, to trust that his intentions were as sincere as he claimed?

"i don't want to play games with you, jeonghan," i confessed, my voice tinged with vulnerability.

he smiled, "thank you for dancing with me a few weeks ago, y/n."

as jeonghan spoke those words, a rush of emotions washed over me, reminding me of the moment our paths had intertwined on that fateful day. "you're welcome," i replied softly, my heart beating a little faster at the memory. "it was a beautiful dance."

he smiled, that same enchanting smile that had captivated me from the start. "i can't help but feel that it was more than just a dance," he said, his gaze lingering on mine.

i swallowed the lump in my throat, unable to deny the truth in his words. that dance had been a catalyst, the beginning of a connection that had blossomed into something meaningful. "perhaps you're right," i admitted, a hint of vulnerability seeping into my voice.

"y/n, i want you to know that you've changed my life," he continued, his sincerity shining through. "since the moment we met, i knew there was something different about you. you've given me a chance to be true to myself, to leave behind the life of deception i had grown accustomed to."

his words touched my heart, and i couldn't help but feel the weight of the responsibility he had placed on our newfound connection. "i'm glad i could be a part of that change for you," i said softly, my fingers gently intertwining with his.

"you're not just a part of it, y/n. you're the reason behind it all," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "you've shown me the beauty of honesty, of vulnerability, and i don't want to let that go."

my heart swelled with emotion, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings and the significance of our bond. "i don't want to let go either," i whispered, my voice filled with sincerity.

in that moment, we stood on the precipice of a new beginning, two souls drawn together by the allure of authenticity and genuine connection. the weight of our pasts seemed to fade away as we embraced the promise of a future built on trust and openness.

as the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the horizon, jeonghan and i stood hand in hand, ready to embark on a journey of love and healing. the gardens of babylon might have been a mythical wonder, but the love we had discovered in each other was real and tangible, a beautiful oasis blooming amidst the deserts of our pasts. together, we would nurture this love, tending to its delicate petals and allowing it to flourish in the warmth of our hearts. and in this newfound love, we found solace, knowing that we had both finally found our way home.

[ragdolls-and-such]

WHATS UP GUYS. H2G2 SWAP AU

alright so! roles and explanations and stuff. pretty please do not complain about how uncreative my names are for these guys i did Not want to think about it too hard. i just like my sillies + that is all Anyway lets go !!!

this is ford dent and he's having a really interesting time rn. guy who is just ITCHING to be up in the stars exploring all that madness gets beamed up into the air with his bestie and then realizes "hey i didnt realize Peril would be part of the equation. why's there so much of That" so basically he's in a constant state of conflict between the "this is cool as shit" and the "GET ME OUT BEFORE I DIE"

next up is arthur prefect (yes i know that ruins the car joke. forgive me). arthur left betelgeuse and was headed towards Somewhere for vacation. he ended up making a wrong turn, crash-landing on earth, and having to figure things out from there. unlike canon ford, he has Not researched anything in space, he just knows about it in passing, so he's just as clueless as his ford.

simply "zaphod." that's it. a personality prototype from the sirius cybernetics corporation, built to be as optimistic and friendly as possible, ended up almost completely oblivious to or uncaring of danger, and SO VERY FULL OF HIMSELF. everyone fuckin hates him basically but every time canon marvin's horrible tragedy occurs to him, he thinks to himself "well at least I'M here. at least i have Me." and slowly the feeling starts to fade as he realizes no one actually gives a shit about him as he's like. rotting away, half-sun-melted. fun stuff :)

TRILLIAN BEEBLEBROX WHO I LOVE SO DEARLY. former genius, still Sort Of a genius, maybe? she wanted to become president of the galaxy So badly. she wanted to make the milky way a better place and knew Exactly how she was going to do it. she worked relentlessly to be elected and . lost the election. realizing that the thing that kept her from being elected WAS the exact thing that made her Want to be elected in the first place - her genuine honesty and care for people - she just went "fuck it, i hate it here," and corkscrewed her brain. Ironically, ended up getting elected afterwards, because she became more "fun" as a result of this.

finally, marvin mcmillan. human teenager, about 17 years old, and was dragged along to a party by his friends. ended up meeting trillian there, who he immediately recognized as an alien (thanks to her constant bragging about it...) and he begged her to be taken away from this god awful planet. she basically unofficially adopted him but instead of adoption its more like . what do you call it when its a wine aunt + a weird angsty nephew.

that's all <3 hope you enjoyed

[ikamigami]

I've always personally interpreted Sun as the kind of person who blames themselves for everything, like yes July 16th was one of if not the worst day of his life and the cause of a lot of trauma, but it definitely wasn't the only day, and to me he comes off as the kind of person who would blame themselves for other's terrible actions, I bet that every time he woke up after Moon had his turn and he found another mangled body, his own covered in blood, he blamed himself, for not being able to talk Moon out of killing, of not being strong enough to fight back against Moon to prevent this from happening, it probably didn't help that parents and technicians probably blamed him too, either because they didn't know Moon was a separate person or blamed Sun for not being strong enough to hold Moon back, I seriously wonder if he feels at least partially responsible for every innocent person Moon and later Bloodmoon has ever killed, those barrels of body parts in that one basement, if he believes he wasn't persuasive enough to talk them down or strong enough to stop them, even though it should've never been Sun's responsibility to keep Moon and Bloodmoon sane, and maybe he also blames himself for his own suffering, that if he had done something different, Moon wouldn't hit him, or call him stupid, or push him away and keep him in the dark, and when Eclipse took control, maybe he blamed himself every time Eclipse suppressed him long enough to do serious damage, or that somehow Eclipse showing up was a reflection of his own "evil", and then him not being powerless when Lunar showed up and was hurting Moon, and that's just the start, Moon getting killed and Sun failing to fix it, Nexus's fall and not feeling like he was enough to stop Nexus from turning, and so many other things, how could you not feel powerless, like your efforts mean nothing, that you aren't enough to save anyone, with all this? And its not because he's self-absorbed or something dumb like that, but because he genuinely believe his failures got people killed, and when you have a life like this surrounded by so much death, where your efforts feel meaningless because people die anyway, you might believe it really is your fault even if you didn't hurt anybody, and on top of that the constant insults and gaslighting, Moon and Eclipse blamed Sun for July 16th, demonized him for having angry thoughts even though everyone has angry thoughts, we saw this with the interview where Moon believed Eclipse's words saying Sun killed the agent even though we all heard Eclipse take control in that moment, Eclipse especially preyed on the idea that Sun is secretly a bad person to toy with him, that's part of why Sun has such issues processing his anger now, so I agree, I think he blames himself for it all, and it's such an ingrained part of him because this state of constant peril and powerlessness has been there ever since he was born, and July 16th, while awful, was just the tip of this ever-growing iceberg

Thank you so much, dear anon 💗🫂

This is how I always interpreted Sun as well.. because I was experiencing the same guilt delusions.. though mine aren't caused by trauma I immediately recognized that we're so much alike because of the way he acts and behaves..

I'm glad that some people understand that.. that some people understand the excessive guilt Sun definitely has to feel..

I can't thank enough Davis and EC for creating Sun's character because Sun helped me realize that I'm suffering from mental disorder and not that I'm just exaggerating and imagining things and use mental issues as personality traits..

I wish that I knew what was going through Davis' mind when he created Sun's personality for sams.. maybe if I knew that he actually made Sun to have guilt delusions and depressive psychosis and it wasn't just a simple coincidence then I'd feel a bit better..

Because I sufffered a lot because of certain individuals in this fandom.. both here and on Discord server.. just because I was saying that Sun is suicidal because I was worried because of my own mental struggles..

Because why they had to say that "I'm disturbing" and that I apparently "was dragging everyone to this" when it's not true and they had the audacity to say that under the post that someone made in my defense where they said that I was passively suicidal..

And they never felt the need to apologize for that..

I also didn't like when New Moon descended into "insanity" at first because the very same people were suddenly caring about New Moon experiencing similar issues to Sun (though their experiences are different but you get what I mean)..

Tl;Dr: I absolutely agree with you and I'm glad to see that some people understand the excessive guilt that Sun has ^^

[mariacallous]

The Middle East faces a moment of peril. Since Hamas attacked Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, and Israel responded with a brutal campaign in Gaza, the region has been on edge. The longer the Gaza war rages, the more likely it is to set off a regional war. Following the assassination in Tehran of Ismail Haniyeh, Hamas’s political leader, a potentially calamitous cycle of escalation looms as Iran and its allies, including Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen, and militias operating under the banner of the Islamic Resistance in Iraq and Syria, prepare to retaliate.

While the outlook is dire, recent history suggests a dangerous escalation cycle between the longtime adversaries can be contained. Nineteen dramatic days in April showed how it can be done. After an Israeli strike on an Iranian consular facility in Damascus killed several senior commanders from Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, Tehran launched an unprecedented and massive direct strike against Israel.

A degree of forewarning; the fact that Iran’s network of nonstate allies largely held their fire; and aerial defenses from Israel, together with the United States and other Western and some Arab countries, limited the damage, and Israel responded with a limited strike inside Iran.

But history may not repeat itself.

Worryingly, this time around, the public rhetoric from Iranian officials and what they are reportedly saying to diplomats suggests that a bigger and potentially more damaging retaliation is in the works, including coordinated attacks from Iranian allies. Iran’s leadership might fear an Israeli retaliation, but it appears to fear the impression of passivity even more.

It was deeply embarrassed by the Haniyeh assassination shortly after Iran’s new president was inaugurated in the heart of the capital. Iran’s national security establishment worries that anything less than a major retaliation could send the signal that it’s prepared to acquiesce to Israel killing Iranian officials and allied leaders. For its part, Israel has made clear that, should Iran attack, it will also up the pain in its counterstrike and might even take preemptive action.

In seeking to limit Iran’s retaliation for the Haniyeh assassination and Hezbollah’s response to the killing of one of its top commanders in Beirut the day before, the United States and its allies have been pushing a three-pronged crisis management strategy: seeking an immediate cease-fire in Gaza; sending additional defensive capabilities to Israel; and working through back channels to urge Iran to limit its fire.

Yet despite reported pressure from senior Israeli security officials and frustration in Washington, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu continues to reject the first plank—a Gaza truce—which would be critical to easing wider tensions in the region. As for the third plank, Iran seems intent on pushing forward with a large-scale offensive action.

If U.S. efforts to cap an escalatory cycle fail, the worst-case scenario could include an Iranian-led attack that causes significant casualties and damage in Israel, which could then prompt Israel to make good on its threats of an all-out assault on Lebanon that would leave much of the country in ruins, expand the battlefield in Yemen by striking the Houthis, and climb further up the escalatory ladder by attacking Iran’s command structure or key nodes in its nuclear program.

Such a move might lead Tehran to conclude that it has little left to lose. Attacks by Iranian proxies on U.S. forces in Iraq and Syria, which have resumed after a relative lull, could expand and draw U.S. forces back into larger-scale active combat. At some point, the local hostilities, discreet targeted attacks, and exchanges of fire beyond Gaza that have pockmarked the Middle East since Oct. 7 would merge into something bigger and far more consequential: a full-scale regional war with potentially devastating effects on global trade and energy supplies, with high rates of civilian casualties.

This scenario is still avoidable. Even if the U.S. effort to contain hostilities is currently struggling, that effort is aided by the reality that neither Washington (eager to avoid a Middle East entanglement at the height of an election season) nor Tehran (which does not want to shoulder the costs of all-out war for less than what it sees as existential stakes) is looking for a protracted fight. Nor does Hezbollah (which stands to lose some of its substantial arsenal in a major confrontation) appear to want a full-scale war with Israel.

But for the logic of de-escalation to prevail, it may well need a boost. At the heart of the region’s tensions is Gaza. Washington has tried to manage these flare-ups through a variety of diplomatic tracks and ad hoc efforts, but it is clear that the region will continue to teeter on the edge of major conflict absent a Gaza cease-fire. The U.S. government has made clear that it wants this, but it has not yet played its strongest cards to get one.

It is past time to do so. Washington should throw its full weight behind a cease-fire and hostage deal in Gaza on the terms that it previously proposed and to which Israel previously agreed. Of course this can only work if Hamas continues to be on board after Haniyeh’s killing, and the latter’s replacement by Yahya Sinwar (the mastermind behind the Oct. 7 attack), but the United States should actually test the proposition by genuinely pressing Israel.

To do so, Washington should make clear that it will withhold the provision of ammunition and weapons for non-defensive purposes to Israel if Netanyahu’s obstructionism remains an impediment to a deal. At the same time, it should look to those with channels to Hamas to convey that this may be their last chance for a near-term deal. It should also seek the United Nations Security Council’s unanimous support for a resolution that would create a binding commitment on all actors to support and comply with the cease-fire, going a step further than the council’s June cease-fire resolution on which Russia abstained.

If progress is made toward a cease-fire in Gaza, Washington could quietly encourage a parallel effort to de-escalate the hostilities that Iran’s Axis of Resistance partners have fomented around the region since Oct. 7, which could include an agreement by Hezbollah to pull its forces back in line with U.N. Security Council Resolution 1701, adopted to end the 2006 Israel-Hezbollah war.

Some of these partners have already intimated that they would stand down upon the reaching of a Gaza truce. The goal would be to add greater certainty to that commitment. As in April, an understanding might be reached through back-channel talks facilitated by Oman or through trusted intermediaries such as Qatar or Switzerland.

The biggest obstacle to moving in this direction may be U.S. domestic politics. Pushing Israel this hard would entail political costs for the Biden administration (including Vice President Kamala Harris, the Democratic Party’s presumptive presidential nominee) just days prior to the Democratic National Convention and in the run-up to the November presidential election.

But a spiraling regional war could be even more costly for a president who ran for office promising to end endless wars—a commitment that Republican leaders have made as well—and whose foreign-policy legacy may well be judged through the lens of how he dealt with this moment of danger to the Middle East and the world.

[1yyyyyy1]

is anybody actually surprised to see more and more radfems fall into the tradfem pipeline 😶 feels like it's getting worse though

I've kind of known that "feminism" was not about female emancipation for a while, or, at the very least, that it did not comprise of people who acted out of genuine compassion and were socially adept enough to enact a tangible change. The latter is a critical flaw because people who identify as feminists are notorious for their inability to properly assess levels of marginalization, so one is left to wonder as to how anyone can pledge themselves to liberation when they lack the tools to perceive hierarchies in the first place. During my time on feminist resources, one subject that was consistently absent from discourse were women with disabilities and major health concerns, and how many of them were active participants in these conversations. It goes without saying that these are the states no one really ever consents to, and that they are a major dent in one's ability to partake in society and subsequently advocate for themselves (or render them null straight away). On the other hand, a consensual pregnancy implies a degree of social and psychological viability. It was a particularly jarring thing to know whenever motherhood would get positioned as the ultimate liability as if the element of choice does not signify its underlying privilege. I want you to understand the way I see it — women with a voluntary lifestyle will knowingly or unknowingly address a considerably more vulnerable demographic and necessitate that resources are allocated to them. How cruel is that? (proof that it happens and is endorsed) I am surprised that child-free women tend to take these things personally instead of calling out the narrative for what it actually says and does. Besides, it is hard not to notice that anyone who is critical of reproduction gets dismissed for being "insane" or "crazy" as if these terms haven't been weaponized against women for millennia, and are the very same thing the proponents of motherhood will then proceed to speak out against. They should just call the women they disagree with hysterical at this point... I am not against having a civil debate, but the fact is that whenever childbirth is brought up, it turns into a contradictory match of tug-of-war. Pregnancy is undeniably harmful and damaging, which makes for a good case in support of mothers-to-be; however, I am above nodding to the criticisms of kink or make up practices only to get lectured on the fact that some harm in fact can be consented to. That is, if we at all establish that pregnancy is indeed daunting, because its perils easily turn into a "normal" and a "natural" thing. Most pregnancies will become both coerced and consensual based on whether a woman wants to call out a man or a woman whose views she dislikes. There's also Schrödinger's lesbian mother who is both relevant and irrelevant depending on who's feeling the least or the most homophobic at the time. Women with children are whatever suits the narrative and it muddies up the discussion.

Radical feminism's disparaging attitude is also reflected in its reading list and its treatment of the writing of Valerie Solanas. Solanas's message, despite being frequently quoted and praised, gets constantly misrepresented — read this. I think the selective limelight speaks for itself.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Andrew Prokop at Vox:

Seven days after being sworn in as president, Donald Trump threw the nation into crisis. The country had wondered whether the new president would follow through on the extreme and authoritarian proposals he’d put forward in his campaign. On January 27, 2017, by executive order, Trump imposed an extreme version of his “Muslim ban” — barring people from seven mostly-Muslim countries from entering the United States.  Even people already approved as lawful permanent residents — people with green cards, who had been legally living and working in the US, often for years — could all of a sudden be turned away, refused entry to their adopted home. 

Chaos unfolded at airports, nationwide protests erupted, and to many, it felt like something new and genuinely frightening was taking place: a slide into an oppressive regime. But then the crisis ebbed. Just two days after the ban was imposed, widespread criticism pushed the administration to water down the policy — “clarifying” green card holders were exempt. Five days after that, a judge blocked the rest of the order from going into effect. The guardrails protecting democracy had, it seemed, held. This pattern recurred during Trump’s presidency. The president ordered or considered something outrageous. He faced pushback in response. And he usually, ultimately, ended up constrained. Sometimes Trump would eventually end up with a scaled-back version of what he wanted: a retooled travel ban, made less blatantly discriminatory, did eventually get court approval. Sometimes he’d manage to go quite far — as in his attempt to steal the 2020 election — before being thwarted. But often he’d fail entirely.

All this has led to a sort of complacency among many Americans about what a second Trump term would bring. There’s a mentality of: “It won’t be that bad — we got through it last time, right?” We did get through it last time. But that wasn’t for lack of Trump’s trying. It was because of the guardrails: those features of the political system, both formal and informal, that so often prevented Trump from actually doing the undemocratic things he tried to do. So to assess the peril a second Trump term poses for American democracy, we need to assess the condition of the guardrails. Worryingly, most of them have weakened since Trump first came to power; some have weakened very significantly. None appear to have gotten stronger.  We’re still a very long way from a system where the president can truly rule without any checks on his power. We can’t know right now exactly how often the guardrails would still hold Trump back, or how future crises would play out.

The guardrails: What they are

To understand what exactly the guardrails protecting American democracy are, think about how Trump’s corrupt ambitions were so often frustrated during his first term. When he fired FBI Director James Comey, he ended up with special counsel Robert Mueller. When he wanted Mueller fired, it didn’t happen. When Trump urged prosecutors to charge his political enemies, they largely didn’t. He tried to punish CNN for negative coverage by blocking their parent company’s sale to AT&T; the sale went through. He tried to get Ukraine’s president to dig up dirt on the Biden family, but that effort blew up in his face and got him impeached.  He never went through with other things he mused about — like delaying the 2020 election due to the pandemic or using the military to crack down on racial justice unrest. And though his attempt to overturn Biden’s election win went further than almost anyone expected, it ultimately failed too.

In all these instances, there was pushback from part of the political system — often multiple parts — that either convinced or impelled Trump to back down.  We can think of the forces constraining Trump in two categories. First, there are all the other government officials, among whom power in the system is dispersed. These include:

Executive branch appointees, many of whom often refused to carry out Trump’s orders even though Trump himself appointed them

The career civil service — the permanent government employees who can’t be fired

Members of Congress, who pass or block laws, confirm nominees, and raise a stink when the administration does something they don’t like

The courts, charged with enforcing the law, who often ruled against Trump

State and local officials, such as the election administrators who certified Biden’s swing state wins in 2020 

Second, there are the informal constraints. These include:

The Republican Party, which, broadly defined, includes politicians, party officials, and interest groups Trump wants to keep on his side

The press, which can unearth damaging news and hammer a president with critical coverage

The public, who, when roused, can speak out, take to the streets, or vote politicians out of office

To be truly successful, a would-be authoritarian would need to coopt, weaken, or smash many of these rival power centers. 

Vox’s Andrew Prokop examines how the guardrails of democracy have held up since Donald Trump took office. The guardrails mostly kept Trump in check from his most blatantly authoritarian impulses during his term, but they have significantly weakened over his reign and afterwards.

If Trump comes back in again, all the remaining guardrails to his fascist rule will all but melt away.

Read the full story at Vox.

[acronym49]

(Info-dump below!! May have some grammar errors lol) (Also dw Wally's fine ♡♡)

Wing Au lore:

They were puppets, but they broke free from their strings in an act of defiance. Home saved them, gave them freedom. But in turn, it sacrificed themselves for their friends. Traces of him still remain, hovering in the minds of the neighbors and sometimes speaking to them in their dreams, but things will never be the same. With Home's sacrifice, the neighbors broke free from their strings, gaining life outside of their own puppeteers as they were changed. The neighborhood morphed. It changed into a genuine, real world. Welcome Home, as a show, was canceled, and they are now in control of their own lives in turn... mostly. The show set was basically their own 'real world' prior but there was nothing outside of the neighborhood. They were controlled by a script rather than actual handlers. Everyone followed their script, whether or not they wanted to, and over time each became more and more aware of it. That's what they broke from. Their souls broke away from their puppet bodies. As for the wings?Home had always been fascinated by birds. They were small, colorful, and soared through the sky with a sense of absolute freedom. It envied them. It admired them. He wanted the neighbors, his friends, to be free like them. They were the one most powerful of the group, Home being the bridge between Welcome Home and the show Directors. Home felt like their guardians, in a sense. In severing that tie, they severed the connection between those worlds as he gave his friends their freeom. There is still trouble, of course. Traces of those strings still linger, and patched wounds will never fully dissappear. But Wally's doing the best he can for the others, now. They're all doing their best. The neighbor's soul is in their wings, and eyes, like the *essence* of them. The wings themselves represent freedon, the ability to choose, and the ability to escape peril or burden, the very essence of the owner as well as the gift from Home. Even with wings, there are still thread-like strings attatched. Can be felt in vague tugs, like something's attempting to guide them. If someone's mental state deteriorates, so do their wings. Feathers will fall out or become misshapen and messy the worse it gets. At absolute worst, absolute rock-bottom, the wings will be a mess of mangled, tattered feathers and all but inner coverts will be missing. If wings or even feathers are cut, pulled, or damaged, the wing owner will feel physical *and* mental pain, given how important they are. Their body can be healed easily, much faster than a human's speed (their blood is black because why not. No organs or stuff, just all black stuff on the inside). A deep lacerarion can be fine within the hour, and natural death isn't a thing for them. However, if their wings are damaged enough, or removed, they will die. This can also happen with mental deterioration

... if they ever die, they join Home