#Just one big therapy session honestly

[writeraid]

Having a sleepover with Marc and Steven (honestly Jake too.) would at least aid in helping about 99.9% of my problems! If not fixing them outright!

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

not to brag, but my therapist told me today that i did incredible during our emdr session, which means i get an A for the day in therapy, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve 🙂‍↕️😌

[your-nanas-house]

"Mr. Coleman said that..."

◇ Pairing: stepdad!Austin Butler X stepdaughter!Reader

◇ Warnings: kind of dark, SMUT, sessions, therapy (invented by me, dunno if it exists), pervy, stepdad x stepdaughter dynamic.

◇ Summary: Austin gets bit lost in the feelings that the "bond" therapy gifted him.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. It took me so long, thanks for the kind anon that reminded me what Austin fic I wanted to publish. I think it's the very first Austin fic that I wrote... 🫣. For other fics like this.

A small click and the front door of his attic was open, allowing him to enter and finally drop down the bag he carried all day around... plus the new script.

Austin had been out all day and he honestly felt all those hours on his shoulders other than his mood. He really was tired but happy, since he was about to see his little princess.

As his feet lead him to the open kitchen he could already hear her soft humming, which informed him that she was busy entertain herself with something

"Hi stepdaddy, how was your day?" Her sweet voice beamed after his footsteps popped her little bubble of calm. She didn't look upset or annoyed when seeing him... which was a good thing since they had some issues when her mom left them both.

Issues that with a bit of father and daughter therapy should had quickly disappear... or so the man, who was following the process, had told them the first meeting.

"Bit tiring but... it was good. How about yours? What did you do while I was out?" Austin's low raspy voice asked as his hand removed carefully his AirPods before his coat so that he could focus his attention on her completely.

She was still in her cute pajamas, a silly one that she had begged him to buy her as soon as she finished watching one of the latest movies of his... 'Elvis' 2022. Reason because her pants were of a baby pink filled with pictures of the king, matched by a baggy shirt with the quote 'Keep Calm and Love Elvis Presley'.

"Bit boring, studied a bit... and nothing much, I cleaned the house though" Y/n informed him after taking a big sip of her tea, humming softly when the older man's arms wrapped around her torso.. hugging her close to himself.

"So sweet of you" he murmured in her ear, tickling her with his short beard as his face snuggled in the crock of her neck more so to make her chuckle before pressing his lips against hers for a quick 'hello' kiss.

His head now resting on top of hers calmly.

"Also!.. I need your help" Y/n hummed out, putting down her cup as her heart beat faster in her chest.. butterflies forming in her stomach at her stepdad's cuddles.

She could already feel his chest vibrating softly as he replied with his voice which became even more lower that it used to be due to the time and work.

"With what, kid?" His big hand ruffled her hair playfully while his body moved to rest against the table of the kitchen so that his beautiful eyes could stare at her as she talked.

She really was so cute like that, her hair bit messy because of him and the glasses she put on just when she used her laptop so to protect them. It seemed quite domestic... bit too domestic since his body started to react a bit, aroused by the innocent scenario.

And the cute mad face she made every time he would tease or annoy her, was so cute but also such a strong turn on for him... expecially those pouty pretty lips, now covered by a watermelon lip gloss.

"Do you remember what Mr. Coleman suggested?" Y/n asked casually, glancing at him with the face he grow to know as 'the testing face'; a serious but funny expression that she always used when she wanted to see if he remembered something or if he forgot about it.

"Of what, sweetheart?" Austin replied with her same tone as he put down the script, pouring himself a glass of water before sitting on the counter to look in her direction. She was giving him her back but he could already see the pouty face accompanied by a small snort of disappointment since he didn't remember.

"The bonding exercises, Baba!" She whined out, looking at him while scoffing softly at his amused expression. He really knew her too well.

"Of course I remember, baby" Austin lied as he placed his glass on the surface so he wouldn't look her in the eyes without distractions

"He said at least once a week, two is better though..." she repeated what their therapist said to them some weeks ago, her eyes looking at him lazily bit tired of her lonesome day. Even too tired to notice his stare taking her whole in shamefully.

"You know that I'm always free to spend some quality time with you, baby" he rasped out before clearing his throat and finish his water, his body warming up at the mere view of her cute behaviour.

"That's a lie but anyway... Let's start it, hm" the young woman murmured, pecking back as soon as he leaned down to steal a bit of love while picking her up easily and move them on the sofa in the living room where there was more space.

"What were the exercises again?" Austin asked, his hands rubbing soft circles on her hips while his eyes pierced intensely in hers the whole time she explained to him "The 5 senses exercises to feel more connected. Touch.. with the yoga, hearing.. by listening and talking, taste.. by eating together, and.. view.. the stare".

Those were all topics they had to go through in their therapist's opinion.. a way to bond with each other better and share some quality moments as father... even though he wasn't her real dad, and daughter.

"I remember perfectly now... and what was the last one?" He asked while playing with a lock of her hair, smiling slightly when her index finger pressed against his nose while talking "It's the smell... we have to take in our scent... and that should be all. So!... where do we start?" The young woman beamed, getting up from his lap.

The older man really enjoyed seeing her so full of energy and joy, it was addicting.

"Okay, little one, let's start. You can choose with which one we begin".

.

Her choose was quickly and he found himself warming slightly up to start the first step. The Touch.. aka Yoga exercises.

Simple but helpful positions they had to do together to feel the struggles and the moving of their bodies.

"Need to change! Mr. Coleman said that we have to be as bare as possible for this one." The young woman reminded the older man from the other room, busy changing into something to start the exercise and have yoga behind so they could relax.

He said that?, Austin questioned in his mind and raised his eyebrows... he really didn't listen so much when that man spoke with them. He clearly needed to stay more focused in the next sessions.

"You need to change as well!" Her sweet voice urged him as she was now standing in front of him in the set of underwear he gifted her that Christmas. Matching bra and panties which colors were identical to her favourite bun that she had used to tie her hair up.

"Sweet baby Jesus above, you are stunning" he commented, holding himself from just cursing in front of her since he scolded her more than once when some bad words left her pretty mouth. It had became a game of theirs just saying some silly things instead of vulgar language.

"It's the set you gave me!" She informed him with a smile, her hands busy fixing her hair happy and warm to start

"I know, little one" the actor murmured while still staring, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

His body was reacting bit too much for his liking and he started to sweat a bit so he decided to get quickly ready and just move his hands to pull off his shirt and threw it away, exposing his built body to the air so that they could begin with the yoga.

Y/n was the first to lead and help, her smaller frame kept doing her best to keep up and help Austin while ending up most of the time just clinging on him like a koala or bouncing to reach his hands.. way too high for her reach.

It was funny, adorable and relaxing... till the sensations changed when he was the one leading the exercise.

"Baba! You have to follow my body" Y/n explained in a whiny playful voice as her young body bent down in front of him, her ass brushing against his crotch and then pressing lovingly when he moved on her, hugging her hips with his strong arms.

Fucking hot, he thought now that his cock overpowered his brain.

His breath became bit heavier while his hands massaged her flesh, he could have stayed like that all day... with his boner pressed between her firm and round ass cheeks still barely covered by those damn panties.

"Ready for the rhythm? Remember sync to let our bodies connect" she parrot what Mr. Coleman told them, making Austin curse internally since he had forgot about the movements... not that he minded though, since his worries disappeared as soon as her ass hit his half-hard dick.

His hips started to follow, taking the lead unconsciously, grinding his clothed cock against her soft flesh shamelessly.

"You got your phone in your pocket, Baba?" Y/n asked after a while, glancing behind to check on him, yelping softly when he moves her head easily by her chin. Making her look back ahead.

"Mhhm... focus, little one. Sync, remember?" Austin rasped out as his hips increased their rhythm, making her loose the balance she had and end up flat against the floor with him on top.

Her heart was beating fast and she couldn't deny that her panties were getting wet by his movements... she wasn't sure it was part of the exercises but who was her to correct her stepdad.

"You're doing so good, baby. So good" his low voice praised, making her maintain the rhythm and match his when his hips increased the tempo as his big hand, which was on her tummy, helped her continue it.

It was starting to get tired, her breath becoming breathless as she heard him grunting next to her ear.

"Austin, I'm not sure this is part of Mr. Coleman's exercises—" Y/n weakly spoke, letting a broken whine escape her mouth when his little finger pressed roughly against her clothed clit

"It's all part of Mr. Coleman's exercises to bond, baby. And call me like he said you should.. don't you want to make the sessions pay off?" Austin murmured huskily, inhaling deeply while lowering quickly his sweatpants and press his bare, rock-hard angry cock against her ass again, pulling the fabric of her panties so that it was stuck between her ass cheeks like his lenght.

"I said call me like Mr. Coleman said, little one" his tone became more stern as his hand spanked her soft flesh making her jolt

"Sorry, daddy! Sorry" she whined out, moving her ass up so to allow him to continue without interruptions... just like a good girl.

It was twisted but felt so good, so... damn good, with the soft skin of his cock caressing her inner thighs as he made sure to keep them closed so that he could fuck them. Hitting her clit with each thrust.

Her stepdad was dry humping her and she was loving it as much as he was... and she could tell that he was enjoying himself pretty much due to all the noises and praises that escaped his lips.

"Such a good girl! Fuck— fuck, fuck. Little one!" His horsed voice growled in her ear as his body shook against hers before something started to wet her thighs and panties. The young woman didn't had time to check before her own orgasm hit her whole and her back arched, a soft curse, which earned her a harsh spank, escaped her innocent sweet mouth.

"Language, baby... now how about we move to the food now, hm?" Austin suggested while massaging her warm flesh, moving his softening cock away from her shaking thighs.

[mothhball]

Positive Reinforcement

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x delusional!Reader (fem)

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON (bc Jon is playing a little hard to get), L-BOMB, fingering, oral sex (both m + f receiving), deepthroating, brief breathplay, mutual body worship, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, overstim, clothed male/naked female, threats of drugging, violence mention, reader is a little unhinged

Summary | You’re convinced he’s the one, but you’ve been causing nothing but trouble for Jonathan. Maybe it’s time to switch up the strategy.

Words | 6.2k

Notes | FILTH. Jon may be ooc, whoops. Honestly, this is very self-indulgent and was a struggle to write lol

Arkham certainly has its charms. From the noisy, dark hallways to the scratchy and shapeless patient uniforms - there’s something for everyone here. As far as you’re concerned, you’re here for no reason. At least no serious reason. You’re a lover and a fighter. Literally just a girl. Even though the GCPD certainly didn’t agree when they arrested you for attempted murder, assault, breaking and entering, and a bunch of other rude accusations.

Your ex broke your heart, so you crashed your car into him in an attempt to get back at him, breaking both his legs in the process. He may never walk again – big deal! A crime of passion, your honor! Revenge for the two years that you’ve wasted on a person, only for him to break up with you once he noticed the tracker sown into the bottom hem of his favorite jacket. Bummer.

But life goes on, and as long as your heart can beat, it can love. And the person who made you believe in romance again is sitting right in front of you in his office, narrowing his eyes as he stares you down over the rim of the coffee cup he’s sipping from. If only you could trade places with an inanimate object. Jonathan Crane in his entirety is worth the stay at Arkham. He’s worth the uncomfortable bed, colorless food and horrible daytime television that’s always running in the recreation room. Who needs freedom when you have love?

Crane was the first to listen to you. The first person to let you speak and philosophize about the nature of your devotion and the way you love people. And he didn’t judge you. At least not out loud.

But now, two months after being admitted to the asylum, he’s grown tired and agitated. Unhealthy attachment and mood-natural delusionships involving someone who wants nothing to do with you. That’s the addition to your diagnosis that Crane is currently rattling off right in front of you, but you’re too busy staring at every detail of his face, trying to manifest his hands on your skin and his tongue down your throat.

“Are you trying to go for a new record in weeks spent in solitary confinement?” Crane sets down the cup to have a free hand to rub his temple with.

The question makes you smile. Oh, he’s always so funny. So charming. But being sentenced to solitude wasn’t the goal you had in mind when you smashed another patient’s face into the cafeteria wall, not easing up until her teeth were scattered around like the shiny pearls of a rich lady’s ripped necklace. Even though you were hosed down by a guard and received a fresh set of clothes, the other woman’s dried blood is still crusted under the nail of your left ring finger. A secret little sign of your devotion. You didn’t do it out of anger or jealousy either. You did it because you knew that Crane would be forced to sit you down for an emergency therapy session. It’s his own fault for reducing your sessions to only once a week.

A playfully coy smile pulls at the corners of your lips, and you lean forward a little, wanting to get a better look at him even though you’ve already perfectly memorized every detail of him after just the first two days of being here.

“She shouldn’t have provoked me. I was defending myself. You understand me. Right, Jonathan?”

You slowly inch your hand across the table, almost making contact with his fingertips until he opts to grab your file instead. It’s a pointed gesture, and you quietly mourn the chance for physical contact with him. Crane clears his throat to bring your focus back to the here and now. And of course, the first thing he does is correct you.

“Whistler?” You furrow your eyebrows. “What does she have to do with this? I thought… I thought you were trying to help me.”

“It’s Dr. Crane for you. And I understand that you have very little self-control.” He pauses for a moment, struggling with a sudden surge of anger before he manages to continue. “I’ll be honest. My patience is wearing thin. You’re a danger to the other inmates, and Dr. Whistler of all people already offered to take you off my hands.”

This revelation makes you perk up suddenly, and there’s a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s thinking of giving you away?

“Yes, emphasis on trying. But as you can see, we’re not getting anywhere, are we? And Whistler mentioned how optimistic she is about your case. If you want my opinion, I think she’s itching to test out some new sedatives we’ve added to the catalog.” Crane adjusts his glasses, and the way he speaks almost makes you think he doesn’t care. But you’re sure he does. Of course he does. He has to. Nevertheless, the mere thought of not seeing him on a regular basis makes anxiety crawl up your spine, and you absently pick at your cuticles until you tear a little too deep, and another line of red pools around your fingernail.

“You can’t do this,” you try to argue, searching your brain for any good reason for him to keep you aside from the fact that you two belong together. You briefly lick your lips, daring to appeal to his pride. “If you hand me off, everyone will know that you failed. They’ll all know that you gave up on me because you couldn’t handle me.”

Crane’s eyes narrow into cold slits, and his grip on your file tightens. Uh-oh. That’s a very ugly expression on your darling doctor. He’s quiet for a moment, silently reigning himself back in. The rage that’s simmering beneath his skin dissipates a little when he has a sudden idea.

Maybe a different approach could work better. Realization sets in, and he almost wants to smack himself for not thinking of this sooner. Evidently, you don't care that much for punishment. Solitary confinement and restriction from activities do little to keep you in check. But how about a different motivation? How about reward?

"Alright, here's what we're going to do. We'll keep up the weekly frequency of solo therapy sessions." He thinks out loud, crossing his arms over his chest and occasionally tapping his fingers on his biceps. You want to voice your protest about not getting more sessions with him, but he continues with this lovely, rumbly tone that he uses whenever he's planning something and getting matter-of-fact with you. It's like catnip for your ears, almost making you melt in your little grippy socks.

"And if I don't hear any complaints about you from the other members of staff, you'll get a reward each time. So, be a good girl for a week and you'll get a treat. Easy, right?"

His eyebrows are raised expectantly as he waits for your reply, and you think about his offer, picking at your sleeve as you weigh out the pros and cons.

"Do I get to pick the reward?" you eventually ask, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes that he immediately recognizes. Crane firmly shakes his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"No. Because I know what you'll choose."

"Then I'm not doing it."

Crane sighs, pulling out his work phone.

"I'll give Whistler a call," he states, concentrating on trying not to smirk at the way your expression falls. Like threatening a child by calling Santa.

"Wait! No, I - ... how about a compromise?" You plead, not missing the parallel either. But if you don't want to settle for coal (or in this case, withdrawal from your man), you'll have to suck it up.

Crane looks up from his phone, thumb hovering over the buttons for another moment before he tucks it back into the pocket of his suit jacket. "A compromise? Doll, we’re not arguing over who does the dishes and brings out the trash. You have no say in this aside from agreeing to either a good or a bad time.”

Damn. Did he have to make it domestic?

“Let me burst your bubble for a moment,” He continues, not allowing you to fantasize over his choice of words for longer than necessary. “You have no power here. No agency, no privileges. You’re not ‘doing’ anything, you’re having things ‘done to’ you. You may think you have me in the palm of your hand, because I’m forced to see you every time you get yourself into trouble, but I could just as well keep you drugged and docile for the rest of your indefinite stay here. So,” he leans forward, resting his palms on the table and clearing his throat.

“No more nonsense. This is your very last warning. If you lash out again, I’ll hand you over to Dr. Whistler, advise her to keep you sedated and move onto other much more interesting and agreeable patients, my reputation be damned.”

The silence that follows his words is deafening, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears as the air suddenly feels thinner. Tears well up in your eyes. Bitter tears of shame and disappointment, and you feel like a petulant child, but it does nothing to stop them from rolling down your face and dripping onto the table below.

Crane stiffens, visibly taken aback by your sudden display of emotion. He thought he’s seen it all from you. The smirks, the winking, the way you bite your lip in an attempt to seduce a man who’s as emotionally available as one of the brick walls making up this very building. Part of him wants to escape the conversation immediately, but it’s his job to at least attempt to help you through your issues, and leaving you in a state of distress is the entire opposite of that.

“Listen,” he starts, almost tentative. “I don’t want to do any of that. Not really. I want to keep working with you. And I believe you’ve made a little progress so far, but you’d be even further along if you’d stop antagonizing everyone for a chance to speak to me.”

“But I need to. You don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

You sniffle, unable to articulate properly. He should know. He should understand from a single second of eye contact. Yet here you are, forced to spell it out for him. Crane’s eyes soften ever so slightly, and he pulls out a pack of pocket tissues, sliding it across the desk so you can dry your tears. His tone is calmer now, almost gentle.

“Why are you doing this? All of this resistance… the altercations with other patients… your life could be so easy. So why?”

“To make you notice me,” you sniffle, gingerly patting your cheeks with one of the paper tissues. Crane’s eyebrows furrow in response.

“You don’t think I would’ve noticed you without all of this mess?” He tilts his head, slightly amused by your melodramatic performance. You scoff at the question, frowning when he actually smirks at you this time.

“No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t notice me if I were a model patient. You wouldn’t spare me a single glance if I was docile like the others… I want you to think about me even when your shift is over.”

Crane shrugs, letting out a sigh through his nose as he does. A corner of his lip twitches, and you can’t tell whether it’s in amusement or disgust. The fact that you tried to manipulate him by being a ‘bad’ patient irritates him, but he has to admit that your strategy worked.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t notice you. You have no idea how difficult and repetitive this job gets… how much the faces start to blur together after a while. You’re not very special at all, if I’m being honest.”

The comment and the monotony in his voice sting, and just for a split second, the mask of sweetness slips to reveal the anger and hurt in your eyes. You quickly manage to reel yourself back in, and you clear your throat as you look away from him. At least he’s being honest with you. The basis of a good and healthy relationship.

“I could… make myself special to you.” A pause.

“Do you think you’re capable of doing that? I mean, so far, you’ve just been causing problems and it’s getting stale. Can you really do something better for me?”

“I can be good… I could show you how I feel for you.” It’s a gamble and you know it. But the possible reward outweighs the risk. At least to your infatuated brain. Crane shifts in his seat, deciding to humor you.

“How do you feel for me? Enlighten me a little bit.”

“I’m in love with you. I love you.” Your sweetheart bristles like a cat, and you feel let down by his reaction. During the countless times you’ve fantasized about this moment in the showers, scrubbing yourself with cheap soap, he was elated by your confession. But the real-life Jonathan Crane just looks at you with mild pity. Pity that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“That was… fast. Didn’t even waste a moment to admit it. But I suppose it’s expected from you,” he sighs, shaking his head as he writes something down in your file. You’re quick to defend yourself. This isn’t a joke to you, after all. You’re laying your heart completely bare, ripping apart skin and flesh to expose the bloody, weakly beating thing to his unimpressed eyes.

“I mean it.”

He lets out a low whistle, and his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. For an agonizingly long moment (about 30 seconds), he punishes your honesty with silence before he finally sets his pen down and looks at you.

 “Then do something to prove it.” He says it so nonchalantly. As if he’s not really expecting anything at all. But he’s severely underestimating how deep your devotion runs for him. Your chair screeches across the floor as you get up, and Crane looks alarmed for a fleeting moment before you lower yourself to your knees and crawl under his desk until you come up between his thighs. Your sweetheart’s eyes soften, and he reaches down to brush his fingers through your hair almost instinctively.

“I’ll show you…” you murmur softly, running your hands over his thighs and lightly digging your nails into the fabric of his slacks. Crane lets out a barely audible sigh, shifting a little in his seat to part his legs for easier access. So considerate. Your man really is such a darling.

Looking up at him from beneath the table, you make quick work of his belt and zipper before you pull up his shirt that he kept tucked into his pants. Your mouth waters at the sight of his skin, and you lean in to kiss his stomach while your hand moves to palm his cock through his boxers. Crane hisses softly, keeping his eyes locked on your devoted form between his thighs, and a shiver runs down his spine when you pull down his underwear, exposing him to the cool air of his office.

“God… your cock is so beautiful… you don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of sucking you off…” you murmur, eyes lighting up as you wrap your hand around him. Crane licks his lips, unsure how to feel about the compliment. You’ve been his biggest headache for months now, and yet here you are, sweettalking him while you’re sitting under his desk with your fingers around his dick.

“I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” You giggle, gathering some saliva in your mouth before you let it dribble down onto his tip so you can pump his cock more easily. Crane’s brows furrow, and you smile up at him before licking from his base up to his tip, causing him to twitch against your tongue. You know he’s always pent up, always stressed, and you don’t really have to worry about him seeking release elsewhere since he’s always focused on his work. And, in some abstract way, always focused on you.

Loyalty. Another pillar of an unbreakable bond.

You can feel him hardening within your grasp, and you swear you can hear an almost silent breath of relief when you finally take his cock into your mouth. You start off slow, moaning at the feeling of his length on your tongue, and you continue to caress his thighs and stomach in an effort to worship him like he deserves.

“No teeth, doll.” He smirks down at you, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone as you continue to suck the precum from his tip. The taste of him makes your mind fog up, and you nod eagerly, pulling away from him for just a moment to answer properly.

“Cross my heart, Jon.” Your mouth is back on him within seconds, and you bob your head up and down, taking him deeper down your throat every time. Crane hisses in response, and his grip on your hair tightens.

“It’s still Dr. Crane to you…” His protest is half-hearted at best, and you witness his composure crumbling in real time as you suck him off like you’re trying to devour him whole. You’re on a mission. A mission to drive him to the brink of insanity like his mere presence does you. Crane huffs out another sharp breath, and his hips twitch forward, generously helping you to breach your throat barrier and causing you to splutter around him. Tears well up in your eyes, but you stay down on his cock, pushing down all the way until the neatly trimmed hair on the base of his length tickles your nose.

“Fuck… You’re so pretty when you gag on it.”

You pull off of him, only managing to swallow half the spit that gathered in your mouth while the rest drips down your chin, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Crane’s hand massages the back of your head encouragingly, and you flash him a bright smile before you go back down at him with a little more vigor.

After a while, you go to catch your breath, but before you can pull away completely, both his hands shoot out to grab your head and push you back down on his cock. Your eyes widen, and you let out a slight noise of protest as he begins to fuck into your throat. Drool dribbles down your chin, soiling the shirt of your patient uniform while your nails dig into Crane’s thighs in an attempt to ground yourself. He clenches his jaw, moaning through his teeth while your throat contracts around him.

“Perfect little cocksucker… so eager to show me your love…” He cuts himself off with a little grunt, and his grip on your head tightens as he moves your skull up and down. “All the way down… yes, keep your tongue out…”

You continue to gag around his length, trying to keep up with the rhythm of his thrusts as he forces his cock down your pharynx, enjoying the way your muscles clench and contract. His soft moans become more urgent, and pride makes your heart swell. He’s making these noises because of you.

“That’s it… good girl. Eyes on me. I want you to look at my face when I cum down your pretty little throat...”

You whine in response, nodding your head as best as you can, and you start to work in tandem with him as he gets close. The moment you feel him pulse on your tongue, he pushes you down all the way again, and his hand reaches around to your face. You catch a dark glint in his eyes when he suddenly pinches your nose shut, constricting your airflow completely as he chokes you on his cock. You struggle against him, but he doesn’t budge as his eyes fall shut and he grunts out more praise. Panic rises in your chest, and your muscles convulse in a desperate attempt to get air into your neglected lungs. And it’s exactly this panic in your eyes that pushes Crane over the edge and he shoots his load directly down your throat, giving you no other option but to swallow the hot ropes of cum that he lazily continues to fuck into your mouth.

Finally, he lets go of your head, and you immediately flinch back to suck in some much-needed air. The both of you are panting, and you keep your watery eyes locked on his satisfied expression while strings of spit still connect your swollen lips to the flushed head of his cock.

“You okay?”

“Yeah...“ you breathe out in reply, trying to swallow the soreness in your throat. Crane’s hand reaches out to you again, caressing your head like a cherished pet, and he chuckles to himself.

“Catch your breath, doll. That was one hell of a way to prove yourself…” He murmurs, reaching across the table to retrieve the pack of pocket tissues and hand it to you. Your fingers are a little shaky as you wipe the mess from your chin and neck, and you slowly return to your chair. Crane’s brows furrow when he watches you retreat, and you blink at him.

Immediately, your thoughts begin to spiral. What are you doing? Sitting back down, that much is evident. Did he want you to stay and keep on sucking him off? Were you supposed to keep the spit on your face intact? Does he – Crane effectively snaps you out of your mental gymnastics routine by brushing his foot against your calf, and you’re immediately focused on the butterflies that fill up your chest.

“What?”

“What are you doing?” He asks, not bothering to elaborate.

“As far as I’m concerned, you behaved very well just now. So, I’d like to keep my word and reward you.”

He points over to the leather couch in the corner of his office, and you find yourself standing before he can even fully extend his arm. Crane follows after you, leading you with his hands on your hips until your knees softly bump against the furniture. He’s pressed up behind you, breathing in the scent of your skin while his hands begin to trail all over your body. You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder as his touch slips under your shirt, and you can feel the way his fingers are trembling against your flesh. Crane clicks his tongue as he pinches your nipples, slowly rolling the hardening bud between index and thumb in a way that makes you jolt in his grasp.

“Let me see what I’m working with, doll,” he murmurs, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside before the cotton bustier that the asylum provided follows suit. Your first instinct is to shy away, but he grabs your shoulders and spins you around to get a good look at you. His gaze is detached. Clinical. And you can feel yourself shrinking away until he finally decides to open his mouth. “Fucking hell… maybe I should’ve indulged you sooner.”

It isn’t much in terms of a compliment, but to you it might as well be a marriage proposal. Your breath catches in your lungs as Crane leans in, sucking your nipple into his mouth while his hands wander lower to push down your pants and sneak into your underwear. He chuckles when his fingers dip into the mess that has built up between your thighs.

“Did sucking my cock make you this wet already?”

“I mean… it is a pretty cock…” you try to defend your already half-unraveled state, and he lets out a laugh. A genuine one of honest amusement, and the noise makes your heart soar up into the sky.

“Quiet. Lie back on the couch for me, sweetheart.” The new pet name almost makes your body collapse in on itself. Your back meets the cold faux leather, and you let out a quiet hiss of discomfort as you sink a little into the cushions. Crane pulls your pants and underwear off completely, letting them join the already existing pile on the floor before he gets on the couch with you. He grabs your thighs, pulling you a little closer so he can rest your legs over his shoulders while he lies flat between them. His breath ghosts over your pussy, and he spreads your folds open with his thumbs to get a good look at your drooling entrance.

“Pretty… so, so pretty,” he murmurs, kissing up the insides of your thighs before he circles his tongue around your eager hole, savoring your taste with a deep, guttural groan.

You reach out your hand to hold his, but he swats it away, causing you to give his hair a harsh tug when he doesn’t do as you want him to. This, however makes him answer with a rough bite to the meat of your thigh, and you’re almost embarrassed by the wanton noise that slips past your lips. Pain tingles down your spine, and you try to sit up, only for him to push you back down. In a second attempt, you manage to catch his hand and immediately link your fingers together so he can’t escape your clammy, possessive grip. To your absolute delight, he’s not even trying to this time around. You knew he’d come around.

His tongue dances around your dripping entrance yet again, licking a stripe up your pussy that makes your grip on his hand tighten and your toes curl. Finally, finally, he sinks a finger into you, already sliding in to where his digit meets his palm, and he moans along with you when he feels how your pussy flutters around him.

“Jonathan…”

For the first time, he doesn’t correct you. Instead, he chooses to lean in and devour you, eagerly lapping at your juicy cunt as he presses the pad of his fingers against that sweet spot inside of you. He’s insatiable, parting your folds with his tongue and groaning at your taste as you grind your clit against the diligent muscle. And his eyes. Oh, God his eyes. He’s almost crushing you beneath his heated gaze, keeping you pinned while he eats you out like a starved man. Now, it’s Jonathan’s turn to get messy, and he doesn’t mind in the slightest as your saccharine slick coats his chin. He adds another finger into your cunt, pulling away from your clit to bite and suck on your thighs while he stretches you open.

“Fuck – “

“Just another finger, doll. Let yourself go for me…” He murmurs between licks and gentle bites as he returns to your pussy, his glasses fogging up from the heat.

Your hands are still intertwined, even as your back arches and you continue to pant and moan out his name. Even as your breath hitches when he latches back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he adds a third finger and you finally come on his tongue with a wail that sounds as blissful as it does delirious.

Your brain is clouded by euphoria, and your bite your lip to keep quiet as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you. You can hear the mess he’s made between your thighs. A mix of his saliva and your juices, and Jonathan is not wasting a single drop of it. Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you only faintly register the little laugh he lets out at your state.

“Christ, I want to kiss that expression off your face… Actually, don’t mind if I do.”

Jonathan leans over you, laughing again when he gets a closer look at your expression. And then months of yearning and dreams of romance become reality when his lips meet yours. Fireworks go off in your head, and you immediately pull him closer, almost causing him to topple over on top of you. It’s messy and overly excited on your part, but you couldn’t care less as your teeth clash a few times and you lick against his tongue and taste yourself on it.

Jonathan pulls back for a moment, despite the vise grip you have on his shoulders, but he calms you by pressing his lips against your brow, whispering like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Easy there… come on, be good.”

You whine in response, but when his thumb brushes over your clit again, your body jolts and you immediately shut up. Jonathan pushes his own pants down further, freeing his leaking cock again and giving himself a few pumps before he pushes his hips forward to coat his length in your slick. Every time the heard of his cock brushes up against you, you let out a soft little noise, and it’s in that moment that Jonathan decides he’d like to hear a lot more of it in the future. He grits his teeth, slowly sinking into your cunt while keeping his eyes fixed on yours.

Once upon a time, you were nothing special. You have an interesting backstory, sure. And your obsession with him does wonders for his ego. But right here, right now, something cracks the stony façade and he silently dares to venture a little further into the dreamworld you’ve built around the two of you. He sees parts of himself in you. The obsessive, volatile behavior. The inability to love in a way that’s considered normal. The desire to possess something or someone in its entirety.

You shiver when he bottoms out inside of you, his hips meeting yours and slightly squishing you into the faux leather cushions of the couch. You’re still tight and sensitive from your previous climax, and Jonathan can feel your pulse in the velvety walls of your pussy that’s clenched around him. Despite your heightened sensitivity, his thumb returns to your clit, rubbing a tight figure eight into it that makes your head spin. His other hand leaves yours, grabbing your jaw instead to keep you from squirming.

“You’re gonna come for me again,” he states, rubbing you a little faster and applying more pressure along with it. Your muscles tighten, and your heart hammers in your chest as you stare up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“C… can you – “

“Move?” he finishes for you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Only if you cum again, I’m afraid. It’ll be another reward.”

You sob out a moan, face scrunching up when that familiar pressure begins to build inside of you for a second time. Jonathan keeps his hand on your jaw, watching every twitch and flinch of your expression with a look of genuine fascination.

“God, why would anyone ever leave you…” he murmurs, and his word pierce right into your heart and the black depths of your lonely little soul. “Pretty thing… if you didn’t break his legs, I’d recommend for him to get a cell on the opposite end of the hall…”

Your breath hitches as he continues to rub your clit and softly speak to you. “Insanity, I tell you… abandoning such a cute toy... It’s beyond me.” He lets out a soft groan when you tighten around his cock. “That’s it… thaaat’s it.”

You reach the edge again, clenching your eyes shut as you come a second time. Jonathan captures your lips with his own yet again, and while you’re stuck on cloud nine, he pulls his cock out all the way only to slam back inside with an intensity that pushes the air from your lungs. You cry into his mouth as he picks up a consistent, slow rhythm of deep thrusts that make your eyes clench shut. Jonathan releases you from the kiss and gives your jaw a little warning squeeze, wanting your eyes to stay on his while he’s rearranging your anatomy with his cock.

“There we go… stretched open so well.”

You squirm back on your elbows, looking up at him with dilated pupils and burning cheeks, but he grabs your waist and pulls you back right to the base of his cock. A truly sinful noise spills from your lips and for a moment you don't even register that it came from you.

Crane chuckles as he starts to roll his hips again, his right hand hovering dangerously close to your poor, abused clit again. A silent threat almost. Then again, he's quite literally threatening you with a good time.

"S'too much...," you groan out, your body rocking every time he spears you open with his girth.

"Shh... no, no.." he tuts, tightening his grip to prevent you from escaping. "You're gonna stay right here and take it. Stay right. Fucking. Here."

Every word he speaks is empathized by a sharp thrust into your drooling cunt, causing you to howl in pleasure and claw at his back. Every nerve in your body is on fire, drowning you in sweet, sweet agony.

"You wanted this, right? For months you've been begging. And now it's suddenly too much?"

You can only nod, babbling some incoherent nonsense in response. Crane lets out a condescending laugh which quickly twists into a moan when you clench around his cock. No matter how much he tries to pretend, he's just as close as you are.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, clinging to you like you're a lifeboat in a storm as he keeps on thrusting into your slick heat.

"So good for me... God, you're so beautiful when you're sweet and obedient... accepting your reward like a good little patient."

You look up at him, trying to focus on his flushed face even though your eyes are rolling back in your head. Crane leans down to capture your mouth in another heated kiss, nipping at your lips and tasting your tongue while he moans down your throat.

The rhythm of his hips stutters when he pulls away to press his face into the crook of your neck, and suck and bite at your skin in a desperate attempt to leave traces of himself.

“Are you going to cum again?” He groans into your skin, flattening his tongue against your pulse.

“N… no…” you whine

“No? This –“ He’s cut off by a moan of his own, and it takes a moment for him to pull himself together to finish his sentence. “This is your reward, doll… We’re going to have to work on – fffuck – on gratitude…”

“I can’t...! Please… please…” you beg, but you’re not sure what you’re even begging for. Certainly not for him to stop.

“You can’t? Well… you’re going to.” His thrusts begin to get faster and more erratic as he tries to fuck into you as deeply as possible “Do it for me, hm? Just for me…”

“No- fuck, please! Jonathan -!!” Tears well up in your eyes from the delicious pain, and you actually scream when he starts to rub your clit again. Colors explode behind your closed eyelids. “Please, please, please- “

“I know you can do it… one more time, doll… Just one more time…”

And you finally do as you’re told, cumming around his cock with an intensity that feels as if someone punched you in the gut. Your brain short-circuits, and you’re not even making noises anymore as he fucks you through your climax like you’re a toy that was handmade for his pleasure.

“Fuuuck – Christ, fuck -“ Jonathan’s voice completely lacks the air of authority and superiority that you are so used to when he whimpers into your neck, his hands tightening around you. It feels like you’re wrapped in cotton, and you can only hear him faintly due to the volume of your pulse that’s hammering in your ears. Finally, his hips still, and he sinks down on top of you as he finishes inside of your fluttering cunt. Rational thought is absent in this moment, and you’re absolutely certain that this is what paradise must feel like. Connected to the one you love so dearly. Overwhelmed by pleasure.

For a long while, the office is silent aside from the rugged breathing that’s coming from both of you, and you bask in his warmth, absolutely content to stay like this for the rest of time. Jonathan clears his dry throat, lifting himself up onto his elbows as he looks down at you, and you’re struck by overwhelming affection once again.

“I love you…”

“Shut up…” But there’s no bite to it. He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, and for a moment, there’s a very real glimpse of fondness in his eyes. Crane stays silent, taking in your features like it’s the first time he sees you properly, and his hand comes up to gingerly trace over your cheekbone and eyebrow before he brushes a strand of hair out of your forehead. Then finally, he lets out a soft breath before he murmurs gently, intimately.

“Looks like I’ll have to come up with more rewards in the future.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Isekai Reader, looking at the half-bitten cookie: .....

Isekai Reader, looks at Damian and Duke: Are you guys sure none of you put anything in here?

Alfred, checking their temperature: I was with them the whole time and any type of liquid that should not be in my kitchen is strictly prohibited

Isekai Reader looks at the transparent couple behind the two boys: I think I saw Bruce's parents... am I high?

Damian: what are you blabbering at?

Isekai Reader: Ya deaf boy? I said I can see your grandmother and granfather from your father's side who is behind you

Alfred, concerned(a bit hopeful too): are you sure?

Martha looks at her husband: How bout you tell him this so he can believe you dear, he is the only one who knows of this

Isekai Reader: hey Mr. Alfred wanna know what miss Martha told me?

Alfred: I'm afraid I don't know would you care to?

Isekai Reader: Wanna bet?

.....

Alfred:....

Alfred, clears his throat: Ahem, I will appreciate it if you don't tell this to any of them no matter what the cost

Isekai Reader: Don't worry I won't traumatize your already traumatized grandkids even more

.....

Bruce: should we send you to a therapist?

Isekai Reader: you're coming with me then

Bruce: absolutely not

Isekai Reader: Then no♥️

Isekai reader either high as balls or actually seeing ghosts? More news at 5.

Isekai! Reader/ you: after all you’ve been through, have any of you ever been to therapy before? Like genuinely gone and or considered going?

Bruce: I’m rich

Dick: once or twice but then I remember that I have to open up. No thanks.

Jason: why pay for therapy when killing crime lords and drug dealers is completely free.

Damian: therapy is beneath me.

Tim: what’s that? Never heard of it.

Duke: I missed one session! One!

Isekai! Reader/ you: if I had money I’d open up a hospital and shove you all inside it. not you Duke, you’re my favourite right now.

Duke: :)

…

-I love this concept, thanks anon-

Isekai! Reader/you: *seeing Martha and Thomas again as they watched over Bruce* fuck sake I’m high again.

*martha and Thomas resting their hands on their son’s shoulders, smiling at him*

Isekai! Reader/ you: *feeling a little sentimental* awww. They’re watching over their baby boy. *smiles softly*

Bruce, noticed: why you smiling.

Isekai! Reader/ you: just remembering how stupid you looked when dressed up as nightwing.

Bruce: Dick and Jason showed you the pictures?

Isekai! Reader/ you: that suit was struggling to keep itself together and I thought your whole asshole was going to fall out if honestly is what your after.

Bruce: it was a phase! *buries head into hands*

Isekai! Reader/ you: that’s what they all say, but you dressing up as a bat and beating people so bad they’re left in a comatose state has to be the longest phases you’ve been in. Ever.

…

Jason: *does anything*

Isekai! Reader/ you: I can take him.

Duke: in a fight right?

Isekai! Reader/ you: :)

Duke, scared: in a fight right?!

Bruce, from a distance: STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!

Isekai! Reader/ you: I WILL FUCK YOUR SON WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT! HES TOO FINE TO BE LEFT SINGLE! ITS CRIMINAL!

Duke: …

Bruce: …

Jason: :)

…

Bruce: what you got there?

Isekai! Reader/ you: a big ass plushie that’s half my body height. *picks said plushie up and squeezes it*

Damian: are you a child?

Isekai! Reader/you: unlike you I had actually got to experience a childhood…at least I think…I can’t remember most of it but I’m sure that’s normal.

Bruce: …

Damian: …

Duke: I’m pretty sure that having gaps in your memory in regards of your childhood isn’t healthy nor a good reflection on your childhood. I could be wrong though so don’t take my word for it.

Isekai!reader/ you: …consider this healing the inner child with a rich man’s credit card.

[heavyhitterheaux]

On Bended Knee

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

Synopsis: You and Jack go to a series of therapy sessions to talk about your marriage that you honestly feel in the back of your mind is going to lead to the two of you being separated and Jack is desperately trying for it not to happen

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Mentions of postpartum depression, death, and miscarriage

“So, what is bringing us in today?” Fatima, your therapist asked both you and Jack as the two of you were sitting at opposite ends of the couch in front of her.

Jack glanced over at you and you simply had your head resting on your arm as you looked straight ahead so he figured that he needed to be the one to speak first.

“We are at odds like we've never been before and I don't know what else to do. It seems like I take five steps forward and ten steps back when it comes to her. I love my wife and I can't see myself without her.” He quietly said as Fatima smiled at him and nodded. She then turned to you.

“Y/N? Would you agree with that?”

“To a certain extent, yes. But I reached my breaking point a long time ago.”

Hearing that made Jack’s heart drop.

“Tell me more.”

“The man who claims that he's my husband and sitting across from me is someone that I truly no longer recognize as far as some of his actions go. Because the Jack that I know wouldn't do those things in a million years.”

“Such as?”

“Making me feel that my thoughts and feelings are invalid. We've been together since we were fifteen years old, got married at 19, but something switched in 2022 when his fame went to an entire new level. Our relationship has been tested and I don't know if it's even worth saving at this point.”

Jack turned to look at you in disbelief because he couldn't believe that those words came out your mouth.

“Babe…”

“No. You begged me to come to therapy with you so you need to put your big boy pants on even if it's something that you don't want to hear. Because trying to talk to you at home is obviously not working. You asked for this so don't shy away now.” You told Jack as you finally looked at him. All he did was play with his wedding ring and nod before turning back to look at Fatima.

You and Jack had barely been speaking to one another and it seemed as if the arguments over little things were getting more and more frequent. You were sitting in the living room since you had just fed the triplets as Jack came and sat next to you.

You glanced over at him, but didn't speak as you turned back around to look at the TV. This was the first time you were able to have peace and quiet all day and the last thing you wanted was to argue with him again. Because at this point, you knew that the two of you were not on the same page.

“Baby?”

“What?” You said and it came out a little harsher than you intended.

“I don't want to keep fighting with you. We're on the same team.”

“Are we? Hadn't noticed since it doesn't seem like it.”

“Y/N, come on. You know we are.” He told you as he attempted to grab your hand. He was surprised when you didn't move away from him.

“Some of your actions state otherwise.”

“I want to fix this and I know you do too. I signed up for marriage counseling and we meet the therapist on Wednesday. I just…. We need to get on the same page if we want this marriage to last.”

You turned to look at him and simply sighed before crossing your arms over your chest.

“And if this doesn't work, then what?”

“Babe, that isn't an option.”

“And you didn't answer my question, Jackman. Tell me what will happen if it doesn't work?”

“I don't have an answer because I don't plan on that happening. We love each other and we’re going to get through this.”

“I'm not sure that I want to go.” You told him being completely honest.

“Can I ask why?”

“If you can't even listen to me when we're at home, what makes you think it'll be any different in therapy?”

“Y/N, you're shaking your head as Jack is talking. What are you thinking?”

“He remembers that a lot differently than I do. I told him not once, but multiple times that she made me uncomfortable, but he steadily ignored me. So much so that he actually asked her to be in his video for First Class.”

“But, you're in it, are you not?”

“Yes, only because I stopped what I was doing when I saw her post a picture of the both of them on Instagram and she was sitting in his lap.  He claimed that she took the pic so fast that he didn't even have time to react. I went to where they were shooting the video and told her to leave and made her delete the picture. Oh, and when I actually did fight her because this had been building up for months with her constantly harassing me, never not once did he ask me if I was okay. Instead he acted mean as hell towards me because the only thing he seemed to be concerned about was our reputation in the public eye and not my actual well-being. We were both at home for a few days after which ended in another argument and him leaving.”

“But you left out the part where you had talked to me the same day that it happened and said absolutely nothing and tried to hide it. I was in a whole different state when I found out and caught a flight to Atlanta to confront you about it because you had stopped answering your phone. There was no need to lie to me about that.”

“Yes there was because I knew you would lose your shit which you did when you came and saw me backstage before my show.”

“Because you could've gotten hurt!”

“Hmm, nice try. I think you meant damage your reputation because those words didn't even come out of your mouth when it happened.”

“Just because I'm mad at you doesn't mean that I want any harm to come to you. You're my wife! Why would I want you to put yourself in a situation which could lead to you getting hurt? That's what I was mad about.”

“Wouldn't have had to be in that situation if you would have established boundaries with her from the beginning. I'm your wife. We share a last name. Not her.”

Therapy had been going steady for the first three weeks and Jack simply didn't know how to feel at this point. He wasn't able to read you as of lately and had it in the back of his mind that a divorce would be coming soon and you would be the one to ask for it. 

And that made him sick to his stomach.

When you were pregnant, it seems like everything was halted and the two of you put your issues to the side. But as soon as they were born and you had healed from it, everything had come back up to the surface. It also didn't help that Jack knew you were also going through postpartum depression.

It was one in the morning and he had gone for a drive after checking on you as well as the triplets and making sure all of you were okay. He didn't have an exact destination in mind, but he simply pulled out his phone and took a deep breath before dialing his mother’s number. He was absolutely desperate at this point.

Maggie picked up on the third ring and he could tell that she was still wide awake by all of the background noise which he assumed was the TV.

“Hey honey, everything okay?”

“No.” 

When Maggie heard how distressed her oldest child sounded she immediately grew concerned.

“What's going on? Are Y/N and the babies okay?”

“They're fine, but umm…” Jack trailed off as he struggled to say his next sentence.

“But what?”

“I honestly think deep down that Y/N is going to divorce me and I… can't live without her. I haven't had to do it in so long that I wouldn't even know where to start. She's the love of my life and the mother of my kids. I can't lose her.”

“What exactly makes you think that she will?”

“We're going to therapy but there's such a huge disconnect that I don't think we'll be able to fix. She didn't have high expectations going into it so…”

“Can I be honest?” Maggie asked and took a deep breath after doing so. However, Jack had a strong feeling that he already knew what she was about to say.

“You saw this coming, didn't you?” Jack asked as he turned onto Bardstown and was casually driving throughout the city.

“Yes from a mile away. I don't know what exactly happened, but 2022 was the start of the rift being made in your relationship with each other. And I've pulled you aside a few times and warned you that how you were acting wasn't a good portrayal of the person I raised you to be or the husband that I know you are towards Y/N. That girl basically worships the ground you walk on and you used to do the same thing. The fame got to you and you were starting to achieve your goals and she was supportive of you. You didn't give her the same support in return and now look where you two are.”

“What do I do to fix this? I need her to forgive me.”

“Then you need to remind her of how much you love and care about her. Because your actions haven't reflected that you do.”

“And what if that doesn't work?”

“Then you'll be signing divorce papers.” 

“Definitely can't forget how he thought I was cheating on him and he actually followed me to see what I was doing.”

“I apologized for that. I was paranoid. I had been gone a lot and missed you.”

“What did Y/N do to make you think that she was cheating?” Fatima asked Jack as he once again started to play with his wedding ring.

“Not spending time with me like she said she would when I finally got back home and she would lie about where she was going so I followed her.”

“And what came of that?”

“She was planning a surprise party for me because First Class had done so well. And she then explained who every single person was that she had met up with. She was just trying to keep it a secret as best as she could. But the day of the party unbeknownst to me of course, I confronted her about it and the look she gave me was utter disbelief and I then knew that I had fucked up. She did show up eventually to the party and then went on her festival run and left that same night.”

“Y/N, is that how you remember it?”

“Yes, I just couldn't fathom that he thought that I would ever want to do something to hurt our marriage. I haven't looked another man's way since we started dating and I still don't. He's everything that I ever wanted and more so what would be the point of that? It just really hurt me. I have this man's name tattooed on my body for everyone to see so why would I do that?”

“I can tell by the way you're talking about it that it still hurts you.”

“It does and the thing is that I am always putting everyone else's needs before my own. I have a big heart and that has always been the case. But I feel that Jack used that to his advantage.”

“How so?”

“If he called and said that he needed me, everything else would be forgotten at that moment. It doesn't matter anymore and we can go back to it once I go and make sure he’s okay. It didn't matter that I was trying to establish a career of my own. If my baby needed me, nothing was going to stop me from getting to him. It didn't matter how big or small the issue was and he knew that.”

“Hmm, Jack, what are your thoughts on that?”

“Now that she said it out loud, I can admit to taking advantage of her as horrible as that sounds. I never want to do that to my wife. I would call her because I know that out of anyone at the end of the day she has my back and my best interest. However, I also should have taken into consideration what she was trying to do for her career at that time because I was the one who pushed her to do it and make a name for herself.” 

“And I still put people's needs before my own. It's something that I have to learn to stop doing. That also takes me back to the whole Anitta thing.”

“What about her?”

“She threatened to release a portion of our sex tape in May and Jack didn't even tell me until December. That's when I called off the wedding, when I found out he lied to me.”

“Jack, why didn't you tell her?”

“I thought I could handle it on my own and simply make it go away. I wanted to shield her from that since a lot had happened between the two of them already. Not the smartest choice since it led to us not doing our big wedding for our five year anniversary.”

“And then I went on tour and found out I was pregnant…. With triplets.”

“And told me in a text message because we really weren't talking during that time.”

Urban glanced at you as you were feeding Autumn and called your name to get your attention. He had come over to check on you because you hadn't been acting like yourself and wanted to see if there was anything that he could do to make it better.

“Lil Bit.”

“Yes?” You answered as you looked up at him.

“Are you and Jack okay?”

“Depends on what your definition of okay is.”

“I… the two of you just seem sad and out of it lately.” Seeing his best friends’ marriage crumble before his eyes was not on this year's bingo card.

“Well we started going to therapy and Jack practically had to beg me to go. I don't know, Urban. I love him and we all know that's true. But the question is if our marriage is worth saving at this point?”

“Only the two of you are going to be able to answer that question at this point. I can't answer that for either of you. But I know that Jack loves you all the same and that he's doing everything he can to show you that he deserves another chance to get this right. He doesn't want to lose you.” Urban told you as you simply nodded and adjusted Autumn in your arms.

“My thing is that it should have never come to this.”

“I agree, but what's done is done and the only thing that the two of you can do is move forward. The triplets deserve to see a happy marriage between their parents and know what real love looks like.”

As soon as those words left Urban's mouth, it got you thinking that maybe he was right. You honestly couldn't see yourself with anyone except him despite all the two of you had gone through that year.

“But so much has happened and I… just don't know anymore.”

“You know that you love him. I know that loving someone isn't the only thing you need in order to make it work but it's a good start.”

“As the two of you sit in front of me, I've heard the good, the bad, and the ugly when it comes to your marriage, but I know one thing for certain. The two of you undeniably love each other despite everything that has happened. Yes, there were hardships and plenty of ups and downs, but Y/N, every time you even talk Jack lights up and looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. Usually in this room, it ends up being the complete opposite because by the time that couples get to me they are too far gone.”

She glanced at both of you and it looked as if you wanted to say something.

“Y/N? What's on your mind?”

“Um, I was just thinking that because of everything that happened, I wanted to separate from him for a while.”

Jack didn't dare let you see it, but tears had pricked his eyes.

“But, I have decided not to. If he's doing all of this and trying to put the effort in then I guess I can give him another chance. Because when I had suggested going to therapy and doing things to hopefully help us repair the relationship, he just waved me off. I feel as though this was too little too late but…”

“Y/N, it wasn’t too late because the two of you are sitting in front of me. That goes to show me despite it all, deep down you still had hope for your marriage too.”

“I have three kids to think about.”

“No, that's not it. Even though they deserve to see what love and happiness looks like, you also deserve the same thing. Jack, how does that make you feel hearing that Y/N wanted to separate from you?”

“It hurts. I've been in love with her since I first laid eyes on her. I know I've messed up and I can understand why she feels that way. I wasn't treating her how she deserved to be treated and it shouldn't have taken me almost losing her to realize that. She died in front of me not once, but twice. But I had already made it up in my mind that if I became a widow, there was no way in hell that I was marrying someone else.”

“And I'm not totally innocent either, but at one point I was damn near walking on eggshells and I shouldn't have to do that in my marriage. And you could have married someone else. I would not want you to be lonely for the rest of your life.”

“No, because I would always compare her to you and when it comes to you, no one comes close.” Jack said as he turned to you and took your hand in his.

“Besides, I was also scared that you were probably going to haunt me if I did.” He told you and a small smile broke out on your face. 

“So with that being said, I have homework for the two of you. If you want to start to repair this marriage and make it work, start dating each other again. It seems like ever since the triplets have been born that the two of you actually haven't spent time with each other with just the two of you. Let me know how this goes and I honestly can't wait to hear about it.”

The night was winding down at the Kentucky State Fair as you and Jack were sharing a funnel cake piled high with powdered sugar and strawberries. The two of you rode so many different things and decided that it was time for food before it was closing time. A few people had asked you and Jack for pictures, but for the most part they were keeping their distance and you almost felt normal. You guess it was the fact that they saw the two of you out and about so often. 

As the two of you were eating, you looked at Jack and giggled, noticing that he had powdered sugar on his nose.

“What? Why are you laughing at me?” He asked as he pinched your cheek.

“You have powdered sugar on your nose.” You told him as you wiped it off and then kissed the tip of it making him smile.

“Did you want anything else before we leave?” He asked and your eyes lit up as you looked towards the pigs that were across from the two of you. Jack followed your gaze and his eyes went wide.

“Baby, NO.”

“But….”

“I meant food wise! We have two pigs already! And the ones over there are huge! They're bigger than me!”

“Exaggerating much? Can't I just look!? Piggy Smalls and Pork Chop need a sibling.”

“They have one in the house already as in the bacon I ate this morning.” Jack replied as he began laughing.

“JACKMAN!”

“You can look from here. Now didn't you say you wanted fried oreos?”

“Yes, but you're forgetting something.”

“What's that babe?” He asked as he fed you the last of the funnel cake and made sure to get all of the powdered sugar off of your face. 

“You haven't won me a stuffed animal yet.”

“Let’s do it then. Which stuffed animal do you want?”

“The pig since you won't let me buy another one.”

“The two of you are smiling, so I take that as a good sign.” Fatima said as she looked at you and Jack and she that the two of you were basically sitting on top of each other and nodded.

“So, the dates went well?”

“Yes, we went bowling, he took me to the state fair, and we went to Vincezo's. We also had a cooking date where we made pasta from scratch. Surprised that Jack lived to tell the tale after that one.”

“HEY! I thought I did pretty good!”

“I mean it did end up being edible so I guess.” You told him as you laughed and he scrunched up his nose.

“We've come a long way. The two of you came to me about six months ago and Y/N was ready to call it quits. And now look at the two of you. Communicating how you should and taking the time out for each other. Just because you have kids doesn't mean you two and your well being gets put on the back burner. As of now, we can continue these sessions if the two of you want, but I truly don't see a need.”

“Oh, there was another thing.” Jack started to say and Fatima looked at him to continue.

“I played her ‘Down on Bended Knee’ because I feel that it summed up the point that we were at in our relationship. I was desperate and willing to do anything for her to forgive me and make her see that she is still the only person that I want to do life with.

“That’s an amazing song choice. I know you were at a loss. Dealing with her dying in front of you, the birth of the triplets and the possibility of losing your only son, the miscarriage, Y/N working her way through postpartum depression and that isn't even all of it. But the two of you pushed through all of it with the undying love that you share between each other and I'm so proud of the both of you.”

“Now, I feel like I can finally get the big wedding that I always wanted.” You said confidently as you twirled your wedding ring around your finger not knowing that Jack had already started planning it in the back of his mind.

Jack noticed how you were looking at him as the two of you were laughing on your first date night in a while since the two of you had been so busy with everything going on around you. The triplets were with Urban and the two of you had finally finished going to marriage counseling, however, Fatima told the two of you to reach out whenever you needed her no matter how big or small. 

The two of you were still seeing your regular therapists and it was helping you communicate better with one another to set up to have a positive household environment for the triplets.

“Why are you looking at me like that baby girl?” Jack asked as he stole a sip of your iced tea and then slid it back across the table.

“Nothing. I’m just really happy.” You said while smiling back at him.

“Why, is it because I rearranged your guts this morning or? I mean I can do it again once we leave here too, it’s not a problem. Just say the word.”

“Jackman! Shut up!” You responded and continued to laugh.

“What? I was just asking.” Jack said as he shrugged.

“You want me to be honest?” You said while starting to play with the fabric at the bottom of your dress.

“Of course I want you to be honest with me. That’s all I ever want.”

“I’m trying to think of the best way to describe it.”

“Take your time, sweetheart. We have all night.”

“Loving you feels lighter.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked as he was trying to understand what you were saying.

“I just feel that before with all that we were going through, I felt a heaviness I guess I should say. Every day I woke up not knowing if our marriage was going to survive and I hated having that feeling. I wanted for us to be okay again.”

“And now we finally are. And I’m thankful that you gave us another chance.”

“I mean you got me fucked up if you thought you were getting rid of me that easily. Been together since we were fifteen and love like that doesn’t go away overnight.”

“I never want to get rid of you, you know me better than that. If anything, my love for you continues to grow every single day. It doesn’t matter if we have a bad day or not. It’s just knowing that I have you by my side makes it all worth it because I know we’ll do anything for each other and make sure that the other is okay. No matter how big or small the issues might be.”

“Okay that will be the second time you made me cry today.” You said as you could feel the tears in the corners of your eyes.

“Don’t cry, baby! I’m just being honest. I honestly don’t think there’s enough words in any language on earth that can describe how much I love you and care about you."

"Yep, now I'm crying." You said through your tears and Jack immediately grabbed your left hand to kiss the back of it as he played with your wedding ring.

"Putting this ring on your finger was the best thing I've ever done and you have my heart. Always."

[dreamsagain]

I figured it would be a good time to share an update with you. I completed 5 radiation treatment sessions in 10 days. I had a new Pet Scan today but no results yet. I wish I could say I'm confident of what the outcome will be. You see when I had the scan prior to the radiation, three new growths were discovered. The cancer in my body is very active. Honestly I was never supposed to live this long but here I am.

Each day I struggle. I can't walk anymore or use my legs. I have become quite the wheelchair master though. My dear friend Holly once told me to keep all four wheels on the ground. Sorry Holly. You get a little bored in my situation. I have come to accept some things that I never thought I would have to. I can't feel the sand of the beach on my toes anymore or the cool ocean water. I can't dance anymore not that I was every very good at it. No more hiking on our trips to northern New England. These may seem trivial to all of you. You never think of these things until you can't do them any longer.

The bigger issues exist. I know my survival chances are slim. I will never give up though till my last breath. I know I will never fall in love with that special girl or settle down or even have a family. Why would anyone want a cancer ridden cripple? My days are consumed with doctors, physical therapy and trying to keep my head up.

Through all of this I'm grateful. I'm grateful for the people that try every day to lift my spirits, to encourage me and support me and most of all love me.

So to the following people, I say thank you and I love you forever.

Lauren @callmenonames my best friend in the universe. I have no words to describe the love you have shown me and the love I have for you. You sacrifice for me every day even at the cost of your own health. You are truly amazing.

Ellie @everylittlethingshedoesismagic my sweet London friend and her beautiful partner Sarah. Not a day goes by that I don't get a sweet message or picture. Unconditional and unwavering support and love. I have dreamt so many times about coming to London to just give you a hug and tell you thank you. I hope some day I can do that. I love you my friend

Karen @karenpillagain where do I begin. You are sweet and kind. Very silly and quirky and I think a little crazy too. You make me laugh and smile. When you had your accident I cried for days. Your partner Kate is a very lucky girl as are yo to have her. Two beautiful Aussies that deserve life's very best. I love you both and do hope we can make that Disney trip someday.

CJ @crystaljaydeinside1 Another incredible Aussie. You never hold back your care and encouragement. Always a sweet message, encouraging word or song to lift me up. I'm glad we connected the way we have and always love our chats. You have become very special to me and Lauren as well. I do love you my friend.

Breelynn @breelynnxoxoxoxo Where do I begin? You were a big support to my sister till the end. You remained close to Lauren and have always supported us. One of kind with a heart bigger than your body. Caring, loving and beautiful. Thank you for your continued support and love. I love you girl! You are amazing

Holly @hollys-coffee-cafe I fell in love with you so easy. You are beautiful, caring, and very special to me. I know we had our moments but there are no conditions on my feelings. You are an encouragement to me to never give up and I never will. I will always love you.

Last but not least Sadie @bambibrowneyes when I met you thanks to Holly, you were dealing with your own issues. Your beautiful wife Shelby sick with the same awful disease as me. There was an instant connection with the three of us. Shelby has since passed and your life has gone on. New career, new city and new love. I'm happy for you my friend. Love you

Okay that's it from me. I probably missed several people. I'm sorry for the long worded post. If you remember, say a prayer, send me you good vibes or whatever you believe in. I need them all.

[queenkatluv]

Howdy howdy! A in general question, what is your thought process when it comes to writing and planning out different series? Do you build off from big plot points or wing it with the fillers,etc? (Hope you and Davis have a great week!)

I'd say it depends.

For series like The Vampire's Bride, I have written out all the major plot points, but I do come up with what could be considered 'filler' to help expand on relationships between other characters, world building/etc.

For Derpy and Otso, I honestly made a lot of that shit up as I went. I had big ideas for certain things, like the Coalition of Davis or working for Electrone. But the characters by themselves are pretty interesting considering you could just put them ANYWHERE and they just kinda roll with it, so 'filler' with them is also entertaining!

I'll also say, filler can either be interesting or really boring. I only strive show things I KNOW a large portion of the audience will engage in. For example: in LAE it's been explicitly said that Earth had more then one therapy session with the characters. However, people stopped showing interest in episodes focused on characters talking about their problems/feelings/past so instead of dedicating whole episodes to it, it's weaved/briefly mentioned into the narrative/episodes. It's a shame because I enjoy diving into the characters and showing how certain situations affect them, but the majority of the audience doesn't seem to.

[thedemoninme141]

Her Heartbeat, Chapter 8: Her Absence.

Summary: Wednesday isn't sure which she detests more, your presence.. or your absence.

Warnings: LightAngst! EmotionallyConfusedWednedsay! WHIPPED WEDNESDAY!

[ It took me longer than expected because I was so confused about certain parts but big thanks to @ortegalvr and @cobaltperun for their helpful insights! ]

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

Worklist.

Wednesday was trying to process the string of events that had led her here—walking beside you after a night of vulnerability that she couldn’t quite shake off. The camp, the spiked coffee, her uncharacteristic confessions—it was all a blur. But the one thing that stood out, You. It infuriated her, how your presence gnawed at her thoughts.

“You good Wends? You look like you’re plotting at least ten different ways to murder me.”

“Eleven,” she deadpanned, her arms crossed as she continued walking.

You laughed, not fazed in the slightest. “Glad to see you haven’t changed after last night. Honestly, I’m torn between which Wednesday I like better.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” she muttered.

“Nope,”

As you reached the hallway that led to your dorms, you stopped, turning to face her. “Well, this is me,” you said, pointing to the corridor that led to your room.

Wednesday’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. She hadn’t expected you to leave so abruptly. It felt…off.

"Don’t look so sad, Addams,” you said with a grin. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sad?” she scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “The only emotion I’ll feel is relief.”

“Of course,” you replied, unconvinced. “Just try not to miss me too much.”

With that, you gave her a mock salute and turned, walking down the hallway with a casual wave over your shoulder. She stood there for a moment, watching you leave. There was a part of her—a very small, minuscule part— that found the sudden quiet... unsettling.

With a sharp shake of her head, she dismissed the feeling and turned on her heel, making her way back to her own dorm.

Upon entering, she found Enid sprawled across her bed, scrolling through her phone. The moment she noticed Wednesday, she perked up with a bright smile.

“Hey!” Enid chirped, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Where were you last night? How was the therapy session?”

Wednesday resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Excruciating. As expected."

Enid tilted her head, clearly skeptical but not one to push. “Huh. Well, it must’ve been really bad ‘cause, um…” Enid trailed off, her eyes traveling down Wednesday’s frame. “Nice clothes. But they’re, uh, a bit big on you.”

Wednesday froze. Her eyes slowly dropped to the clothes she was wearing—clothes that definitely didn’t belong to her. They were yours. Damn it.

Enid’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Wait, are those Y/N’s clothes?”

Wednesday turned away, her expression carefully neutral, but the heat rising to her face was undeniable.

“Oh my god!” Enid squealed, practically bouncing off the bed. “You spent the night at Y/N’s place! This is huge! You never do sleepovers! You always say no to me and Yoko! Why didn’t you invite me though?” She pouted, clearly in full gossip mode.

“Because nothing of significance happened,” Wednesday replied, her tone as icy as she could manage.

Enid wasn’t buying it. “Uh-huh, sure. And the fact that you’re still wearing Y/N’s clothes means nothing at all, right? Like, absolutely no hidden meaning? No secret story?” she teased.

Wednesday gritted her teeth, annoyed with both Enid and the situation.

"The only thing ‘secret’ here is how you’ve managed to survive this long without me murdering you in your sleep."

"Wow, rude," Enid huffed, though her expression remained playful."But seriously, what happened? Come on, spill the tea!"

Wednesday let out a sharp sigh. It was clear Enid wasn’t going to shut up until she gave her something.

"I was accidentally incapacitated last night," Wednesday admitted stiffly. "I had to spend the night in Y/n's house."

Enid blinked in surprise. "Wait, what? You were incapacitated? Like… drunk?" Her eyes widened with excitement. "No way! Wednesday Addams got drunk?"

"I wasn’t drunk," Wednesday snapped. "I was drugged. There’s a difference."

Enid’s grin only widened. "Oh my gosh, who drugged you? Was it a prank? Are they dead?"

"Not yet, but soon." Yeah, Rick is going to pay. Time to plan her revenge. Enid pulled her out of her thoughts. "Sooo… are we just going to ignore the fact that you are still wearing Y/N’s clothes" Time to plan her revenge after getting out of your clothes.

But as she yanked off your shirt and tossed it onto the bed, something caught her attention—the faint scent of you still lingering on the fabric. It was subtle but undeniable, and it made something unfamiliar and unsettling stir in her chest.

Whatever this was, whatever you were doing to her—it was becoming dangerous.

So what now... Wednesday found herself at a loss for what to do. She had spent so much time in your chaotic orbit this week that now, without you by her side, the day felt strangely dull. It was irritating how much of an impact you'd had. Perhaps that ridiculous spiked coffee had affected her more than she’d realized. Or maybe it was the fact that her thoughts kept circling back to you, which was even more disturbing.

Enough of this nonsense. She wasn’t some emotional weakling who would pine over someone’s absence. There was plenty to occupy her time.

She marched over to her bookshelf and grabbed the thickest volume she could find—a collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s complete works. She sat down, flipped the book open, and forced herself to read. But the words were just that—words. No matter how many pages she turned, they refused to hold her attention. Her mind kept wandering back to your face, the way you looked when you smiled, and the way you’d been…different last night, more serious, more caring. She hated how vividly she remembered every moment.

Stop it. She slammed the book shut with more force than necessary, the sound reverberating through the quiet room. This was absurd. You were nothing more than a distraction—a temporary one at that. She could certainly live without you for a day.

Wednesday pulled out her textbooks, intending to immerse herself in something productive. But after hours of skimming through botanical studies and historical analyses, she found herself staring blankly at the pages, unable to retain any of the information.

She groaned inwardly. What is happening to her? She had always prided herself on her focus, her ability to block out anything unnecessary. Yet here she was, unable to shake the thought of you, and it was driving her insane.

It was late afternoon when her phone rang, snapping her out of her daze. She glanced at the screen—David. She answered with her usual briskness.

"What?" she said, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Hey, Wednesday," David replied, his voice sounding unusually hesitant. "I just wanted to call and… well, apologize for yesterday. I should’ve been paying closer attention. For Rick's mistake, I feel responsible."

“You should feel responsible,” she said without sugarcoating it. “And Rick will answer for it. I’ve already begun plotting his untimely demise.”

David let out a nervous chuckle, clearly unsure whether she was joking or not. “Right… anyway, I also wanted to apologize personally. I feel pretty guilty about everything, so I was thinking of hosting a small dinner tomorrow night. Just to make up for it."

“I’m not interested in another therapy session,” Wednesday replied flatly, ready to end the call.

“It’s not a therapy session,” David reassured her. “Just dinner. A way for me to say sorry properly. I’ve invited the others too, along with their partners. I thought… well, I was hoping you might bring Y/N as well.”

For a brief moment, Wednesday’s brain screamed no. There was no way she would subject herself to more of this insufferable socializing. And yet… there were you. She had spent so much time with you this week that the thought of another evening in your presence—annoying as you were—had some strange allure to it.

Before she even realized what she was saying, Wednesday heard herself agree. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

“Great,” David said, relief evident in his tone. “Dinner’s at seven. Hope to see you there.”

Wednesday hung up the phone, staring at the screen for a moment longer than necessary. What had just happened?

Frustrated with herself, she tossed her phone aside and walked over to her desk. She moved to her typewriter.

The keys clicked with sharp precision as her fingers danced across them, bringing Viper’s world back to life. Viper, like her, was strong, solitary, and focused. Viper didn’t let anyone close enough to break her concentration. Viper does not allow distractions.

But the story wasn’t coming together. She stared at the page, trying to force the next sequence of events to unfold in her mind. Where was Viper supposed to go from here? What was her next move?

Her fingers hesitated above the keys. Nothing.

An unsettling feeling crept up her spine. For the past few days, she had tried to work on Viper’s story, only to be met with this same void. It was unacceptable. She had never experienced such a thing before—this sudden lack of inspiration, this… inability to progress. It was as though some unseen force was blocking her creativity.

“Writer’s block,” they called it. What a ridiculous concept. How could someone as brilliant as her be struck down by something so petty?

Wednesday had had enough. She craved the solace of something familiar—something that could pull her out of this maddening state. The cello.

Yes. That would do.

After dinner, Wednesday retrieved her cello and carried it to the balcony. She carefully set up the instrument, it's been some time but her skill is still the same.

And then, something caught her eye.

Down below, near the gates of Nevermore, she saw you. You were standing alone, glancing around as if waiting for someone. It was late, almost midnight—what were you doing out there? Where were you going?

She couldn’t explain it, but something about the way you stood there, the way you looked—nervous, distracted—made her feel that annoying, unsettling tug in her chest again.

Before she even realized what she was doing, she was walking. Her feet carried her down the stairs, out of the house, and through the courtyard. She didn’t question her actions until she was already standing beside you.

“Where are you going?” she asked,

“Jesus, you need to stop doing that, Wednesday!” You clutched your chest, eyes wide with surprise. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Wednesday was unfazed, her dark eyes narrowing. “Answer the question.”

That nervous gesture—it was familiar. You had the same look when Bianca had asked where you were at the end of last year. The way you averted your eyes, “Um… tomorrow, it’s a family function. My aunt’s having a baby,” the words tumbling out as if rehearsed. The hesitation in your voice didn’t escape her, and her instincts flared to life.

Lies. Wednesday could smell them a mile away. But she didn’t press. Not yet. The first rule of interrogation was never to reveal that she knew someone was lying—not until she had all the pieces. She would let you think you had her fooled, for now.

“David invited you to a dinner tomorrow” Wednesday stated, her voice sharp, as if daring you to avoid the question.

“Oh,” you replied, your posture relaxing slightly. “I’ll be there.”

You offered her a small smile, but Wednesday wasn’t convinced.

Her eyes remained on you, unblinking. You were nervous, your gaze flitting between her and the gate.

"Look, I’ll see you tomorrow evening," you said, flashing a quick, almost forced smile. "I have to go, but I promise I’ll be there for dinner."

Before she could respond, a car pulled up, and you glanced back at it with obvious relief. You turned to leave, not even offering a goodbye. Yet, as you stepped into the car, you looked back at her. Wednesday noticed something strange in your eyes. A flicker of something she couldn’t quite place—fear, distress, sadness, regret?

And as your car disappeared into the distance, Wednesday felt that hollow, irritating emptiness return. It gnawed at her, digging its claws deeper into her chest. The feeling was familiar by now, but that didn’t make it any less infuriating.

She had been alone her entire life, and she preferred it that way. But lately, your absence felt far more unsettling than your presence.

Since the start of this… whatever it was between you two, just when she thought she had you figured out, you went and did something like this—leaving her standing alone in the courtyard.

Wednesday tried to rationalize her emotions. This was all a temporary lapse, nothing more. Soon, she would return to her usual self—focused, sharp, and unburdened by these absurd feelings.

Enid had already gone to bed by the time Wednesday entered the room, thankfully sparing her any more of the bubbly werewolf's questions.

Good. Wednesday needed the silence, the chance to process everything without any distractions. She slid into bed, pulling the covers over her and lying rigidly on her back, folding her arms across her chest.

Back to the start, you had needed her help to break out that old woman from the asylum for her wedding. So, she thought that's it, that must be the reason. But Wednesday cursed herself for not prying in further, she should've investigated why was that important for you.

And then, you trying to get close to her, you had said you have no intention, that you just want to be her... wait you hadn't said anything about that... you never called her friend like Enid does.

So.. it's not friendship that you seek... so.. did you seek?

No, it can't be, It felt wrong. This whole thing felt wrong.

It felt like you had dug a space in her mind and settled there without permission. No, not permission. Permission would have been refused immediately. This... this was more like you had just sauntered in, hung your jacket beside her coat, and sat on the sofa beside Wednesday despite her repeated protests.

It wasn’t just your lies that bothered her. It was the vulnerability she had shown around you—the things she had said, it was the uncomfortable feeling, of how you can use them against her.

But what was your secret? And why did it matter? Wednesday didn’t care about people’s secrets unless they were her enemies. So why did she care about yours? How had she allowed this to happen? How had she, of all people, let you get under her skin so deeply? It was unacceptable. She hated how easily you disarmed her with your presence, with that damnable smile that haunted her even now.

And then, there was the look, the look you gave her, the one that reflected her own... fear of vulnerbility. You surrounded by trees? In the forest? It was dark. Wednesday tried to focus on that memory,

"It’ll be... selfish." your voice, what would be selfish? What did you tell her? What did she tell you?

Sleep did not come easily. Her thoughts kept racing, kept circling back to you, no matter how hard she tried to focus on something—anything—else. Eventually, exhaustion won out, and she slipped into a fitful sleep, her dreams plagued by fragmented images of you and the growing sense that something was very, very wrong.

The next morning, Wednesday awoke feeling no more rested than the night before. Her body had gone through the motions of sleep, but her mind had never truly shut off. The moment she opened her eyes, her thoughts immediately returned to you, as if you had somehow managed to occupy her mind even in her unconscious state.

She got ready with her usual efficiency, pulling on her black uniform, Enid as always, was still snoring. Wednesday checked that cursed device they call phone, You hadn’t called, hadn’t texted—not that she wanted you to. Or so she told herself.

By the time she made her way to the quad for breakfast, Wednesday was in a foul mood. She scanned the area out of habit, her eyes searching for you among the usual group of Nevermore students gathered at their usual spots. Of course, you weren't there, you had "family function".

“Howdy Roomie!” Enid called out behind her “When did you wake up? I didn't hear you leave!”

“Just because I live in the same room as you, Enid, doesn't mean I owe you a detailed schedule of my movements,” Wednesday responded dryly.

“Someone’s grumpy,” Enid teased.

Wednesday shot her a glare that could freeze the sun.

Enid, Yoko, Eugene, and Bianca were deep in conversation, laughing about something Enid had said. Wednesday was beside them with her usual indifference, though her gaze kept flickering to the empty spot where you would have been. They were loud, their chattering, yet it felt so silent, without your voice.

“So where is Y/n?” Bianca’s voice broke through Wednesday’s thoughts.

She turned her head sharply, eyes narrowing at Bianca. “Why would I know? I am not her keeper.” she snapped, her voice cold and clipped.

Bianca raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying Wednesday’s defensiveness. “You two have been... close lately. Thought you’d know.”

Close. The word grated at Wednesday, like sandpaper against raw skin. No, if you were close you would have been here, or at least told her the truth of your whereabouts.

“I don’t make it my business to monitor the movements of others. Unlike you,” Wednesday retorted.

Bianca shrugged, but a small smirk played at the edges of her lips. “Okay Okay, I was just curious.”

The first class of the day was worse. The seat next to her was conspicuously empty. Wednesday scowled at it, as though willing you to appear. The lecture droned on, but her focus wasn’t on the words being spoken. It was on the empty chair. It was on the fact that you should have been there, irritating her with snide remarks or unnecessary commentary.

She shouldn’t miss that. She didn’t miss that.

But her eyes kept straying to the clock. Each passing minute seemed slower than the last, a constant reminder that you weren’t there. It was irrational. Ridiculous. Yet every second without your presence felt... wrong. As if a rhythm she hadn’t even realized she’d fallen into had been disrupted. She glanced at the clock again. And again. Till finally, the clock hit 7 pm.

Wednesday found herself mechanically preparing for the dinner David had invited you both to. She didn’t bother dressing up for the occasion—her usual black hoodie would suffice. The entire time, her phone remained maddeningly silent. Not a single call. Not a single text from you.

Should she call you? Of course not. That would be absurd. But the thought gnawed at her anyway, clinging to the back of her mind like a stubborn shadow. What if you didn’t show up? What if you weren’t coming at all?

Wednesday clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around her phone. No, she wouldn’t call you. She refused to be the one to reach out first. If you wanted to disappear, then fine. She didn’t care.

The restaurant was nothing extravagant or special, a humble spot in the town that seemed to fit David’s predictable lack of taste. The sign above flickered slightly, as if unsure of its own existence, much like her own certainty about coming here.

Her eyes flicked over the tables. Rick, Ashley, Mike, Brooke, Alex, and Milo were already seated, laughing like the therapy group of over-sharers they were. She felt her stomach twist in disdain. The chatter grated on her nerves, each of them blissfully unaware of her silent disdain. And, worse than the noise, worse than their faces, worse than the cheap ambiance... you weren’t there.

David noticed her the moment she walked in, his smile broad and annoyingly warm as he approached. “Wednesday! I was worried you wouldn’t come,” he said, sounding like he might actually care.

“I rarely miss an opportunity to endure forced social interactions,” she replied flatly, the sarcasm dripping along with the poison from her words.

David chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head as his eyes shifted behind her. He hesitated for a moment before asking, “Uh, where’s Y/N? I thought you two would come together.”

A spike of irritation shot through Wednesday. She was used to deflecting these kinds of questions, but your absence had put her in an even worse mood than usual. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Y/N left Nevermore yesterday night and hasn’t attended school today. She said she would be here, but evidently, she lied,” she snapped, her words harsh and biting.

David blinked, clearly surprised by the venom in her tone. “I’m sure she’s just running late,” he offered, trying to sound reassuring.

He led her to the table, where the others greeted her with exaggerated enthusiasm. Rick, in particular, seemed eager to make amends for the chaos he had caused at the camping trip.

“Hey, Wednesday,” Rick started, sounding awkward. “I just wanted to, uh, apologize again for the whole... coffee thing. I really didn’t mean to spike it. It was an accident, I swear.” Rick kept talking, but his voice, somehow, slowly became mute. She didn’t even register what he was saying anymore. The door of the restaurant had opened again, and everything else—the chatter, the dim lighting, the forced smiles of her peers—faded into the background.

There you were.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Wednesday’s composure faltered. Her usually steady pulse quickened. She sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing in an attempt to maintain her usual detached scrutiny, but it was no use. You had walked in, and she was momentarily frozen.

Wednesday swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. Her heart was beating just a little too fast, and it annoyed her to no end. This wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be reacting like this. She shouldn’t feel her pulse quicken just because you had walked into a room.

But there it was, undeniable and infuriating. You looked like the embodiment of everything she despised and everything she was inexplicably drawn to. You weren’t trying to make an entrance, weren’t seeking the spotlight, but in that moment, you had all of her attention.

You weren’t dressed in anything overly elaborate—no dazzling sequins, no shimmering fabric. You wore a simple red square-neck dress, its clean lines flattering your form without drawing attention to itself. And yet, the sight of you was enough to render Wednesday utterly still.

Wednesday understood you weren’t trying to be beautiful. You were just being you.

And you were beautiful. It was a problem.

You finally turned your gaze to her, your eyes locking onto hers. And for a moment, the air felt heavy between you, charged with something unspeakable. You smiled softly—just a small curve of your lips—but it was enough to make her feel like the ground beneath her feet had shifted.

David noticed her distraction and followed her gaze, grinning when he saw you.

"See?" he whispered to Wednesday. "Told you she was just late."

But Wednesday barely heard his words. She was still staring at you, trying to make sense of the strange, unfamiliar feelings swirling inside her chest. She had spent her entire life keeping people at arm’s length, priding herself on her emotional detachment. And yet here you were, unraveling her carefully constructed walls with nothing more than your presence.

It was infuriating. It was terrifying.

As you approached the table, you gave a small wave to the group, a smile playing on your lips. "Hey, Wednesday," you said, your voice soft but clear, like the distant echo of something she couldn’t quite reach. Your smile—not the mischievous grin you often wore, but a more subdued, almost nervous smile. It sent a jolt through her, as if you had managed to slip past every wall she had carefully built around herself.

She opened her mouth to respond, but the words—whatever they were supposed to be—stuck in her throat. She managed a nod, her face betraying nothing, but inside… inside, everything was spiraling out of control.

David clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. "We were just about to start. Come on, have a seat."

He gestured to the chair next to Wednesday, the one that had remained conspicuously empty all evening. You hesitated for a fraction of a second before walking over and sitting down beside her.

The moment you were that close, Wednesday’s entire body went rigid. She stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the fact that you were there, sitting next to her, your arm occasionally brushing against hers.

The dinner began, but it felt more like a performance. The others were talking, laughing, passing plates of food around the table, but you… you were quiet. Too quiet.

It wasn’t like you to be this reserved, you weren’t teasing her with that infuriating sense of humor.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed, her mind racing as she tried to piece together the puzzle. Why weren’t you being your usual irritating self? Why weren’t you joking or nudging her like you always did? There was something off about your behavior tonight, something that tugged at the edges of Wednesday’s awareness, unsettling her.

She wanted to ask. No, she needed to ask. But the words caught in her throat. This wasn’t supposed to happen—this wasn’t supposed to matter to her. You weren’t supposed to matter to her.

Yet here you were, sitting so close to her and being so distant at the same time.

Brooke, sitting a few seats down from you, leaned forward suddenly, “Okay, so… not to bring up that night’s chaos, but who the hell cut my hair?” she asked, gesturing toward her now uneven, poorly trimmed pink strands.

Wednesday felt a small smirk tug at the corner of her lips, the memory of her drunken state returning in flashes. She was about to open her mouth and claim responsibility—it had, after all, been her doing.

But before Wednesday could utter a word, your voice cut through the air for the first time that night.

"It was Rick."

It wasn’t loud, barely more than a casual statement, but the effect was immediate. Everyone at the table believed you since you were the only one who had been sober that night. Except Rick who was halfway through a bite of his food, choked and dropped his fork onto the table with a clatter. "What?" he sputtered, eyes wide with disbelief. "I didn’t—I don't-"

Ashley, sitting next to him, elbowed him sharply in the ribs, “Rick! Seriously?”

He groaned, clutching his side. "I didn’t do anything! Not that I remember but why am I getting blamed for everything tonight?"

Brooke huffed but eventually seemed to relent, giving Rick one last glare before she picked up her drink and took a long, deliberate sip. Ashley, meanwhile, gave Rick another jab in the ribs for good measure,

"It’s still your fault, whether you like it or not."

"Why would it be only my fault? You were the one who brought "the thing" instead of sugar from my bag." Rick complained,

"Why do you even carry "the thing" everywhere?"

"I told I you had business to do!"

David, sensing the tension building around the table, cleared his throat and jumped in to defuse the situation. "Okay, okay, let’s not start throwing accusations around. It was a crazy night. Mistakes were made… coffee was spiked, hair was cut, feelings were probably hurt—let’s just chalk it up to that, yeah?"

The conversation continued, drifting into lighter topics as David worked hard to steer it back toward safer ground. He asked about everyone’s week, threw in some jokes about their upcoming therapy sessions,

But you… you had gone quiet again.

You sat there, eyes fixed on your plate, barely acknowledging the conversation swirling around you. For anyone else at the table, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. They were used to people drifting in and out of conversations, especially when it came to group dinners like this. But for Wednesday, it was suffocating. Every second that passed with you sitting there, silent, felt like an eternity, gnawing at her nerves.

You had spoken, and it had been to protect her. To cover for her, even though she hadn’t asked for it. She hadn’t needed your protection—she could handle everything, and she would’ve gladly taken the credit for the butchered haircut. Yet, you had lied, shifted the blame onto Rick without a second thought.

Wednesday’s mind raced, trying to make sense of it. Was this part of your strange behavior tonight? Was this quietness a deliberate choice, a game? Or was there something else, something you weren’t telling her?

As the others continued their conversations, laughing and chatting as though nothing was out of the ordinary, Wednesday found herself unable to focus. She could barely hear what they were saying, too caught up in the growing frustration of your silence. She wanted you to be annoying again. She wanted the teasing, the jabs, the irritating banter that had become so… familiar.

But now, you were just sitting there, quiet. Too quiet. And for Wednesday Addams, that was a far more dangerous game than any words you could have thrown her way.

She had been hyper-aware of your presence throughout the dinner, glancing at you periodically, waiting for you to say something, to return to the version of you that had been irritating her since the start. But you never did. And now, as the group stepped out onto the street, Wednesday’s eyes subconsciously searched for you again—hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’d finally break the silence and offer some sarcastic remark to alleviate the tension in her chest.

But then— Whoosh!

A burst of light flared up, and someone screamed. Everyone turned, staring in disbelief.

Rick’s car was on fire.

A full-blown, blazing fire, with flames licking the dark sky and smoke pouring out of the engine. Rick stood frozen, his jaw hanging open, his eyes wide with pure horror as he pointed uselessly at the inferno.

"My car! What the hell happened to my car!?"

Wednesday, equally shocked, stared at the flaming vehicle. Her first instinct was to analyze the situation—had someone sabotaged it? Set it on fire? But before she could process any logical explanation, she felt a dozen pairs of eyes turn to her.

Everyone was looking at her.

She arched an eyebrow, completely confused. "What?"

David tilted his head, "Uh, well... it is something you'd do."

Wednesday crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at them. "As much as I love the idea of committing arson," she replied dryly, "I assure you, I had nothing to do with this."

But before anyone could say another word, they heard a burst of laughter.

Everyone turned to see Brooke standing by the car, holding—of all things—a gas canister, her face flushed with amusement. She doubled over, clutching her sides as she cackled uncontrollably, practically giddy with delight.

“When did she—" Mike started, his eyes widening in disbelief. “When did that happen?”

Rick groaned, his hand dragging down his face in defeat. “Brooke, my car! You set my car on fire!”

She shrugged nonchalantly, as if setting a vehicle ablaze was just another Tuesday for her. “Yeah, well, you deserved it. Consider it payback for my hair!"

Rick sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t getting out of this unscathed. “I mean, I did kinda deserve it, but still... my car, Brooke.”

"Its a Honda Odyssey, she did you a favor by burning it." Ashley joked.

"She is crazier than I thought," Mike mumbled.

“Okay, everyone! Let’s not panic. We’ll, uh, figure something out. Probably not now, but soon. Really soon.” David scratched the back of his head. “Maybe we should call a fire service.”

Wednesday, who had been watching the chaotic scene unfold, found herself caught between irritation and amusement.

But then, a different thought crossed her mind. She hadn’t heard you laugh. You, who always had a sarcastic comment or a snide remark ready. You, who would’ve probably had some offhand comment about Brooke’s arson. But the space beside her was… empty.

Her fingers clenched into fists at her sides as she forced herself to focus on the scene in front of her, trying to ignore the nagging thought in the back of her mind. Trying to ignore the fact that you had disappeared without a word, Trying to ignore the fact that you left her without even saying goodbye. Trying to ignore the fact that, despite the fire and the chaos unfolding around her, all she could think about was the empty space beside her where you should have been.

But it was hard ignoring all that.

It was really, really hard.

NEXT CHAPTER

[thepersonnamedsam]

champion - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: abu dhabi 2024

word count: 1k

warnings: none

note: hiya, hope you’re all good? have fun with the second 1‘000 follower special :)

masterlist / taglist

The Race was intense, it was hot and steamy and all so risky. But he was so near. He could almost taste it, taste you. If he won this race, he’d be champion, champion of the world. His second most important price, you always come first, of course.

You stood in the Ferrari garage, your fingernails bitten down to the flesh. You were more nervous than he was. God, only four more laps to go. Charles was leading, but Max was only 0.6 seconds behind him. One mistake and Max would be a 4x World Champion.

But you were certain that he was gonna make it. Charles was your best friend and he deserved that title more than anything. He wasn’t just your best friend, you were gonna become his fiancée today if he won, but you didn’t know just yet. The ring was securely stored in his jewellery box inside his drivers room. You had no idea.

Three more laps to go.

You were sweating, not just from the heat, you were standing on your toes the whole time. Your heart pounded, probably as fast as Charles‘ car. This was gonna be it. Charles Leclerc, World Champion of 2024!

Frederic was standing beside you. His hands wrapped tightly around your shoulders, squeezing every other second, waiting for your boyfriend to finally finish that race. You both couldn’t wait anymore. „Fred, if he wins, will you pay him some therapy sessions?“, you joked. He only laughed at you. „He doesn’t need them after the win.“

Two more laps.

The anticipation only grew. At the time, probably everyone at home sat at the edge of their seats. Max was so close behind Charles. If he only lost some speed, Max would pass him. They made a show. And nobody liked it.

„Charles, Max is 0.4 seconds behind. Let’s switch to Plan C“, you heard Xavi over the coms. „Okay“, you heard your boyfriend say back. „What’s Plan C?“, you asked Fred. „He’s gonna let Max pass, get into his DRS zone and then hopefully he can pass him with greater speed.“

Your heart dropped into your stomach, Ferrari is gonna fuck Charles up against You knew it. It was not gonna work. And when Charles met Max pass, everything played out in slow motion. Max passed the red Ferrari, Charles tried to stay behind the Red Bull.

One lap to go.

It was silent in the Ferrari garage. You could hear a needle drop on the floor. Everyone was sweating. You stopped breathing, at least that’s what you thought, because honestly, no one ever stops breathing in these moments.

The moment Charles passed the Red Bull, the garage errupted into loud applause. Your heart skipped a beat, letting a small scream out. Excited for the new outcome. This was gonna be it, Charles will be champion. You could feel it.

The last meters were ahead of both cars, with Max only 1.7 seconds behind. Charles was gonna make it, he just couldn’t fuck it up. Nothing could happen now. And when Charles crossed that finish line and was declared Champion of the World, you cried. Happy tears streamed down your cheeks. A big prominent smile on your face and wet eyes.

„Go, go!“, Xavi ushered you out to the outside of the garage, where Charles would park his car on the number one spot. And there he stood, proud on his car, his hand up in the air, pointing to his late father. When he looked down again, he saw his whole proudness standing in front of him. You.

He got down from his car, quickly getting his helmet off and kissing you. You were so, so proud of him. Your champion. And when Carlos sprinted towards him with a suspicious little black box, you couldn’t believe what was going to happen.

„My love, mom bijou. I love you endlessly and I wouldn’t know what to do without you. You are my stars that light up the night. Tu es le soleil, qui répand la chaleur dans tout mon corps (You are the sun, that spreads warmth throughout my body). I love you with all my body, with all my heart, with all my everything. Will you make me the happiest man in the whole wide world and marry me?“

Your body shook from the cries. You couldn’t believe what was going on. Tears streaming down your face, you could only nod. And you nodded, looked at him with your tears stained face and got down to his level. You kissed him, so hard he couldn’t believe the force you had. And you said yes, of course you said yes.

Charles wasn’t only Formula One Champion, he was also the luckiest man on earth, with his big love in his arms, crying like the world might end. But it doesn’t, the world only just started for you two. Life was being written from a whole new perspective now. Not only is the luckiest, but you were los the happiest woman.

And the fahnden went crazy, Charles Leclerc, the 2024 champion got engaged to his long term girlfriend on the day he won the championship. And when he stood on the podium and received his trophy, he couldn’t stop smiling, not crying. He was looking down at his fiancée and the whole world stopped, just for a moment, just until he realised he was gonna marry this girl, for sure now. Not only in his dreams, but in reality too.

For him this day did not only mean he achieved his biggest goal, but also his biggest dream.

And for you, you were going to be the happiest bride on your wedding day, when you were going to walk down that isle and see this man standing in front of you

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @hiireadstuff , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall , @darleneslane , @mikauraurr , @heartmetaphor , @ellswilliams , @thxtmarvelchick , @nataliambc , @dontjudgeabookbythecover , @hockeyboysarehot , @thehistoryone , @zimm04 , @woozarts , @mellowarcadefun , @deephideoutmolkshake , @grimeslvrr , @tallrock35 , @namgification , @pear-1206 , @trouble-sistar

[sl-ut]

https://www.tumblr.com/playcnex/737880875796185088/her-teasing-fingers-on-my-clit-as-she-licks-my

This with Abby

more college!abby

i think this works for any version of abby so i'm not narrowing it into the plotline of sweet cliches, but its so cannon for any version of abby!

[link to post]

literally the most dangerous position you can be in with abby is in her lap, and this is talking about a girl who is six feet tall and so jacked she could probably beat a grizzly bear with her bare hands. but when she's with her girl, she's nothing but a gentle giant.

she's big on physical contact when they're alone together, but it's not always sexual. sometimes its sitting with her arm around her girl's shoulder, or facing each other in bed and just looking at each other and talking. honestly its so pathetic but idec like i love it and them, but my oh my, the second she has her girl in her lap, there's only one way for it to go (spoiler: they're about to FUCK).

in this specific scenario, i'm thinking that it's the end of a stressful day, and abby needs some comfort, so her girl crawls into her lap in nothing but some panties and one of abby's outrageously oversized (even for her) t-shirts, carefully taking her sad little face in her hands and providing her with sweet words and gentle kisses till she finally opens up about what's bothering her. she accepts the gentleness for a bit, spilling about what had her feeling that way, but her hands are slowly working their way up the back of her thighs, squeezing the plump flesh in her grasp enough to feel it spilling out between her fingers, before finally reaching her desired destination (her ass).

the shirt is gone in a matter of seconds when she finishes her little therapy session, and she's her mouth all over her girl's chest in even less time. she's sucking, biting, kissing, and licking all over, breaking away to pant out in a deep voice to her.

"i need you so bad baby."

"you gonna let me have you?"

"just lay back and let me make you feel good."

and then her fingers are slipping beneath the fabric of her panties, a breath catching in her throat as she felt the wet patch that had formed on the cotton and eagerly began circling her clit. she wants to see her girl arching her back, head tilted and eyes closed; it made it all the more enjoyable knowing that she was the one making her do these things, not to mention that it gave her easier access to her chest (and she liked they way her tits bounced with every stuttered breath and moan).

"what is it," she'd tease, "you want my fingers, baby? you can have 'em, all you gotta do is ask."

and once she asks, oh my, abby's fingers are already buried deep within her by the time she finishes her question, curling and prodding at the most sensitive spots with practiced precision, mouth still eagerly sucking on her sensitive and swollen breasts while her thumb continued to circle her clit, pushing her over the edge of her first (of many) orgasm of the night.

[diazsdimples]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

I'm getting to everyone's snippets tonight, I promise! I'm a few days behind cause lectures have just started up again 😬 tagged for Tuesday by @thewolvesof1998 and @elvensorceress thank you friends 🫶. Also I'm updating my taglist for the first time ever so please interact with this post if you want to be on it!

Figured I should probably get cracking on my 7x06 spec fic before the episode comes out so please enjoy a bit of Buck getting roasted by his best friend and boyfriend.

Eddie frowns, looking a little confused. “I thought you guys were all good?” “We are,” Buck replies, his eyes never leaving his parents as he watches them greet guests, both looking the brightest and bubbliest he’s seen them in years. From afar he’s sure they look like a regular, happy older couple enjoying their daughter’s wedding, but Buck can’t hide the way seeing them still makes his gut twist uncomfortably. Tommy snorts beside him, bringing him back to reality. “Except Evan decided it was a good idea not to mention me until today” Eddie does a little double take, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “Wait, you haven’t told them yet?” “I’m gonna go find Denny,” Christopher announces, bored of listening to the adults. “Is that okay, Dad?” “Yeah, of course bud. See you in a bit,” Eddie says, ruffling Christopher’s hair. The three of them watch as he shoots off, making his way towards Hen, Karen and Denny as fast as his legs can carry him. When he’s safely out of earshot, Eddie rounds on Buck again, fixing him with an incredulous look. “Seriously, Buck, in what world did you think springing this on them today was a good idea?” “That’s what I said!” Tommy says, flicking Buck a smirk as he squeezes his side. “Hey, you’re meant to be on my side!” Buck protests, elbowing Tommy in the ribs, but it’s all forgiven when Tommy brushes a light kiss against Buck’s temple.  “And I didn’t want to tell them in person, I thought doing it like this would be… easier,” Buck finishes lamely, aware of how delusional he’s sounding. “Uh huh, cause telling your parents big, life changing things has always been easy in person hasn’t it,” Eddie deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrow at Buck in a way that screams you’re an idiot and you know it. “Listen, I wasn’t exactly thinking -” “Clearly,” Tommy and Eddie say in unison, turning to one another with shit-eating grins as Buck gives them both a flat look, before continuing.  “- but, I didn’t want them to gripe at me and say they would have rather heard it face to face than from behind a phone.” “I think they probably would have had a go at you either way, honestly,” Eddie says with a sympathetic shrug, and he reaches over to squeeze Buck’s shoulder. Buck sighs and burrows closer into Tommy’s side, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Tommy runs his hand down Buck’s spine, rubbing at each spinous process as he encourages Buck to relax. Buck softens a little, biting back a whine as Tommy nuzzles his nose against Buck’s hairline.  “You’re probably right,” he admits with a sigh. He’d really wanted nothing more than to heal his relationship with his parents but turns out it takes more than a little lightning strike and some shitty therapy sessions to mend years of trauma.

No pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @bidisasterevankinard @neverevan

@babybibuck @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @daffi-990

@jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @bibuckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon

@cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @nmcggg

@alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @weewootruck @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @epicbuddieficrecs

@smilingbuckley @actuallyitsellie @spagheddiediaz @loserdiaz @thekristen999

@loveyouanyway (Remember to interact with this post if you want to be on my taglist and lmk if you want to be removed)

[jello-library]

The Roommate Program (PT 2/?)

Finally part 2!! This one focus more on the reader/self insert!

Also I want to try writing the letters so you can get a feel of what being written instead of just getting vague descriptions!

I hope you enjoy it! 💛

Your first letter from your pen pal was…something else…to say the least. Paired with a prickly friendship bracelet. You felt like you opened Pandora's box with that first letter.

You sigh as you sit down in your office chair looking down at the blank sheet of paper nervously. What in the world do you write back? I mean, writing a letter about yourself is easy but continuing conversations is harder than it looks. What do you say now “Hey I heard you went to solitary confinement was it fun?” Like how you continue talking with him?!

Twirling the pen in your hands your wings twitch and flutter nervously. You joined the program because being a past patient at the Theraprism who managed to opt out of the recarnation ceremony praise the axolotl for that one. You thought it was nice to try to give back to them you know to show that redemption is worth the effort! You felt like you had a pleasant experience there or maybe because you were more cooperative than your peers.

But after the copious amount of interviews and several months of being on the waiting list.

You finally were met with a small envelope congratulating you on your approval into the program and your pen pal. You thought things were finally going well for a chance.

Until…you were brought to have a one-on-one conversation with THE Axolotl themselves you felt like maybe this wasn’t a good idea anymore…They wanted to talk about your pen pal, Bill Cipher. You were somewhat familiar with the name mostly being associated with the chaos he left in his wake.

He was a force to be reckoned with.

Was…

“He is someone who is quite..um…complex..” Look up from your teacup to glance at the other being across the table. The word “Complex” still feels like an understatement to you. The axolotl smiled down at your eyes laced with slight concern before continuing.

“I’ve read your file..” Shit. ”You seem to have been the star patient during your stay. Self-admitted leading to 500,000 years stay before you were released. The top storyteller during puppet hour.“

You can feel yourself getting hot with embarrassment as you sink into your seat. “Yeah, Dr.Oswald says he misses my shows…” You swirl around the remaining tea left within the cup. You don’t know what to say or why they brought you here to begin with. Did all the other participants go through this conversation as well?

“I already know why he joined the program. But I hope for a better outcome than another trip to Wellness Void and I think you can help me with that.”

Looking back down at the blank sheet of paper the pen feels more lighter in your hand now. Just breathe and relax if you mess up you can fix it later.

Dear Bill,

Sorry for my first letter being so plain I can honestly admit I’m a bit nervous about messing this up. I never knew how to talk to someone without it feeling awkward so this is a new step for me. As someone who used to be in the same position you’re in I feel like I can you some advice on how to make your stay less boring! Like, if you want to get out of group therapy it’s time to start taking advantage of art time!

Start doing big projects that take up time with this when art time is over you can ask to stay. But it’s important to say it so can present your piece to the next time group therapy session! Use this advice sparingly those counselors in there are nice but they ain’t dumb! Also if the vending machine is still in the cafeteria hold down on the C button it should give you an extra snack but it’s sadly randomized.

Well, I hope this letter finds you well and also thank you for the bracelet I hope to make you something special when I write to you again!

Sincerely,

██████

[yelenasdiary]

For flufftober: Middle sibling reader x older sister natasha and younger sister yelena. Reader was recently released from the subjugation of the red room and so theyre throwing a little welcome home party for reader. With cake and streamers and a polaroid camera. Some terrible music playing that they all jam too as they down too many bottles of vodka?

New Memories

Pairing:  Older Siblings! Natasha & Yelena x Younger Sibling! GN! Reader

Summary:  After a little over a year of therapy, your older sisters throw you a welcome home party.

Warnings:  Fluff/Comfort, Mentions of Red Room, Subjugation, Drinking, Language Warning | 1.3K

Translations: Sestra (Sister), 

AC: Thank you for requesting this, as I mentioned, I have combined with request with another, I hope you enjoy! x

October Special Masterlist

"Sestra, it'll be fun" Yelena argued with her Russian accent coming in thick. It was Halloween and your sisters, Natasha and Yelena planned a little party for you with the help of the other Avengers, Alexei and Melina. It's been a few short months since your year of therapy had gone from three sessions a week to weekly appointments, your therapist was proud of how far you'd come since your sisters saved you from the subjugation of Red Room and freed you from the control of General Dreykov. You hated that they wanted to throw a party in your honor, you never liked the fuss being about you. 

"Lena, I know you and Nat are happy for me and trust me, I am proud of myself as well but I just don't think I want to have a party thrown to celebrate" you replied before letting your eyes fall back down to the book in your hands. 

"It is not just to celebrate how far you have come" Yelena spoke as she took a seat at the end of your bed, forcing you to put your book down once more. "It's about making new memories, ones that are real, ones we get to keep and talk about in years to come. Natasha won't admit it but I know she would love to fill the photo album she has on her bookcase and I would like an updated photo of the three of us" your older sister by 2 years went on. 

She had a point and that made it hard for you to turn her down. Looking back on the memories you had with your sisters, it was hard to remember. You were only 4 when the mission in Ohio was completed and you were ripped from Natasha's arms. After that, it was blurred moments of fake Christmases, thanksgivings and other holidays just to give you three a moment of something that felt somewhat normal. 

"Fine" you playfully rolled your eyes at the blonde, "will Kate and Wanda be there?" you asked with hope. Yelena nodded, "who do you think were the first to jump at the idea of baking a cake" she replied. 

"A cake? Really?" you asked with a slight frown, of course your family were going to make this a big deal and honestly, for Yelena to say this would be fun was a comment you never thought she would say about a party. 

----

Music mixed with laughter and chatter filled the room, Kate wandered around taking polaroid photos of everybody and placed them in a small box for you to look back on at a later date. Eventually the room became quiet, around midnight people called it a night and headed to bed leaving you, Yelena and Natasha still up. 

"Now we can really party" Natasha smiled as she placed a bottle of vodka on the table along with three shot glasses. "Amen to that!" you replied in a sigh of relief, too much socializing and now you were finally going to have the party you truly wanted with your sisters. 

Yelena poured three shots as you and Natasha threw streamers at one another, you started it of course. "Stop acting like children, lets drink!" Yelena announced as she carefully yet skilfully sliding the shot glasses down the table to you and Nat without spilling a drop. You downed your shot the moment it hit your hand, the burn of the alcohol in the back of your throat reminding you why you loved vodka so much. 

It was long before the bottle of vodka was finished, and another was placed on the table. Crumbs of cake slices littered the wooden table while the three of you made new memories, jokes and brought up old, good memories. 

"SO BYE BYE MISS AMERICAN PIE, DROVE MY CHEVY TO THE LEVEE, BUT THE LEVEE WAS DRY" the three of you sung in sync, now each holding a bottle of vodka. Wanda and Kate had come down from upstairs and watched the drunk mess unfold. You were laughing, when Yelena pushed you to the floor for standing on her foot for the 5th time. Natasha had the polaroid camera in her hand taking very drunken and blurry photos of you and Yelena before turning the camera on herself to snap a selfie. 

"Do you think Tony would get made if we stole one of his suits? I mean come on! those things look so fucking sick!" You looked between your sisters. Yelena turned to Nat, "I'm with Y/n, let's do it!" she said before taking another mouthful of vodka from the bottle. 

"Should we stop them?" Kate whispered to Wanda who shook her head, "no, let them have their fun" the Sokovian replied before gesturing her head towards the stairs as a way to say let's go back to bed. "I kind of want to be awake early to see Tony's reaction" Kate whispered once more as she followed Wanda up the stairs. 

"Alright but you gotta be quiet!" Natasha said, bringing her index finger to her lips in a shush motion. 

Cheeky smiles tugged at the lips of you and your sister as Natasha led you both down the hall to the elevator, pressing the basement button. 

----

"Can somebody tell me why the fuck I found 3 of my suits scattered around the damn compound?!" Tony asked with pure anger in his voice. Your head was pounding, it had clearly been a while since you got drunk as much as you did last night. 

"Tony, shhhh!" you looked up at him before taking a sip of your coffee. 

"Nothing is broken, nothing to stress about" Natasha tuned in, taking her hang over a lot better than you were. She looked as though she didn't even drink last night. 

"That's not the point Romanoff and you know it!" Tony snapped, "the three of you are suspended until further notice so I suggest you start thinking about cleaning up the mess you made!" he added before storming out of the room. 

"What mess?" you asked with a frown as Natasha sat down across from you at the dining table, peanut butter toast in her hand. "Oh, that is on you and Yelena to clean" she replied with a light chuckle as you rested your head on the table to catch a few extra minutes of shut eye. 

Yelena came into the kitchen just how Natasha did, as if a hangover was non-existent. "HA! Looks like somebody needs a little more practice on how keep their vodka down" she spoke, her loud voice making your head pound harder than before. Slowly, you lifted your head to look up at your sister, giving her a look of death has she stole Natasha's mug of coffee, "please shut up" you replied before letting your head drop to the table once again. 

"You and Y/n have to go clean up the yard today" Natasha said after swallowing a mouthful of her toast. "Yeah, I figured" Yelena chuckled, bringing the mug to her lips, "you better go take a shower sestra" she encouraged you only to earn a mumble and grumble in return as you took yourself to the showers. 

"Another round tonight and they will be fine" Yelena looked at Natasha before taking another sip of Nat's coffee, Nat just chuckled, "I don't think they could handle another round" she replied as Wanda walked into the kitchen. 

"You three had fun last night" she smiled softly as she placed a rather large handful of polaroid on the table in front of the two Russian sisters. Natasha reached for the small photos and flicked through them while Yelena watched, a smile tugging at both sisters lips as they saw how happy they looked, how much fun they had and how finally they had photos with real moments, real emotions and real love. 

"Yeah, one of the best nights" Natasha spoke softly.

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[mikhailoism]

yeah im back to thinking about bobby's black book, his plan and his suicidal ideation in 7x09 .... this is on my mind so much because its honestly never really talked about anymore. like it took 6 seasons for the book and plan to even be mentioned again. one of my biggest fears for s8 is for the whole argument between athena and bobby and all his suicidal thoughts and whatnot to be ignored and brushed over .... I don't want that ! i need him to have to serious talks with athena and a therapist about this. like i need them to talk about their argument for bobby to admit he was bordering suicidal even if he didn't really realize it.

I NEED THEM TO TALK ABOUT THE BOOK AND THE PLAN. like what do you mean that athena never knew about this huge thing ??? i need a whole scene of bobby letting in athena on this and better explaining. idk it's always annoyed me how easily they brushed off the book and the plan in s1 after everything with chimney and then throwing away the book, but like this was a big coping mechanism and whatnot is it really that easy just to stop that way of thinking??? and i want more of athenas side in this, I want to see her struggle with the knowledge and how badly she wants to help and save bobby but she can't it's not how it works. she knows exactly what it's like to have someone you love try and commit suicide and the knowledge that bobby planned to in the past and is currently feeling like it again?? horrifying and terrifying to her . and the frustration of bobby not letting her in ?? l need active conversations about this so badly , let me see them genuinely talking and having therapy sessions together and alone i just need proper resolution to this

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 1 - MONTH MINUS 6 - THE CONSULTATION

The specialest of special thanks to @ayviedoesthings for creating the original Dragon HRT story, and a big shoutout as well to @kaylasartwork, @welldrawnfish, @nyxisart, and @deadeyedfae for their takes on the concept! Every one of you is inspirational, and your work gives me so much second-hand gender euphoria!

NEXT

---

"Miss Alexis, please come in."

I look around as I walk inside. Between the doctor being a balding middle-aged man and the office looking like any generic doctor's office, I'm honestly a little disappointed. I was hoping the infamous source of therian HRT would be a little more… I don't know. Exotic? Unique? I was half expecting the walls to have before and after photographs of clients, but I suppose when it comes down to it, this is a serious medical facility, not a beauty salon. I walk up to the desk and sit down in the chair.

"Now I understand you wish to be a… a tiger?"

I'm unable to suppress my euphoria at the idea, and I start grinning and nodding. "A white tiger! I haven't changed my fursona since I got one, it's about time I start embodying it!"

"Indeed… And I see on your medical history that you are transgender." He mutters under his breath, "Just like all the others…"

I give a little smirk. 'All the others' are the reason I'm here. If this guy is handing out meds that can turn people into dragons or fish or bats, then a tiger should be easy, right? It's a mammal, and not much bigger than a human, relatively speaking. I had even given some thought to the rumoured "Fifteen Minute Shortcut", but when it comes down to it, even if I did have the ungodly pain tolerance to withstand such a rapid transformation of my bone structure and musculature, I… don't really want to do it quickly. Mundane HRT has already been such an absolute gift in terms of euphoria from noticing the slow and gradual changes, I want to keep that up. I want to notice the little things.

"Now I'm afraid there are some requirements to be settled first…"

Oh boy. Here comes the bureaucratic bullshit. Everything that's been put in place to make sure Our Children don't Make A Terrible Mistake. When it comes down to it, bodily autonomy only counts when you're not one of the weirdos. The instant you decide to be capital-d Different, people start falling over themselves trying to talk you out of it.

"First of all, I see that you have been taking human hormone therapy for a little over six months. We do require a full year of human treatment before beginning therian treatments, and I'm afraid that is fully non-negotiable. There are matters of biology that require the body to be a certain degree of… receptive."

I was afraid of this, but at least it's not a deal-killer. Another half-year is bearable, even if I am going to be shaking with anticipation the entire time.

"I also see you have letters from a practicing physician and a social worker, but we do require a second psychologist to be involved in the process."

Okay. Absolute horseshit, but not impossible. All I've got to do is find another social worker or psychologist. And pay them for several months of sessions. And hope they don't decide I'm crazy for wanting to throw away my humanity. I can feel my expression souring…

"It's also required to live as your desired species for at least a year before beginning the process."

"What." I'm leaning forward and glaring at the doctor before I fully realize it. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that, without the… the requisite biology, or the inborn instincts, or the… the habitat!" I let out a frustrated growl. "Am I supposed to fly off to India or Bangladesh or somewhere, and start camping out in the wilderness??"

"Miss Alexis, please, I'm afraid these are… are the requirements set forth by the guidelines of -"

"Guidelines!" I slam a palm down on the desk between us, before letting out a frustrated breath. "Just that… Guidelines. You know, and I know, that a lot of people have come to you already, with a lot more… exotic requests. Flying animals? Aquatic animals? A fucking DRAGON??"

The doctor seems taken aback, maybe he didn't expect this level of resistance.

"What is even the natural habitat of a dragon anyway? Or the diet? Or the behaviours in the wild?? It's a mythical creature for gods' sakes, there's no firm evidence they even existed!!" I stare at him, unblinkingly, with what I dearly hope is a predatory glare. "But I do get it, though. You have to be absolutely sure I won't regret it. Liability, or whatever. …Maybe we just need to know how hard I can BITE."

Something changes in his expression. ...Malice? No, not quite. A sort of… satisfaction, maybe.

It was a test. He wanted to know whether I'd just roll over and accept the impossibility of my quest, or whether I was prepared to fight for it.

Joke's on him, just getting human HRT was such a godsdamned hassle, I already know how to fight.

He adjusts his glasses. "Perhaps there is something I can do for you… Let me get you some forms."