#and he's quite stubborn with his purchases

[simpingforcys]

During King Candy's introduction, Disney+ subtitles have him say: "Hello, my royal subjects!"

While in other captions and DVDs (and what is mostly heard) he says: "Hello, my loyal subjects!"

One flaunts his status, one flaunts his ego. Either way, to him, it's just about the same.

[k1ng-ej]

Shadow the Hedgehog X Reader

A valentine's confession

Note: first time writing for this silly guy, expect more vday related posts. i might open requests again soon, ive been in a depression episode for a hot minute now so this is the first thing ive written in a few days, i love him so much. Requests for him are open!

Shadow stood at your front door, hesitating to knock. For months you had enthusiastically shared your excitement for Valentine's day, mentioning it daily. During this time, Shadow wrested with his feelings. Each time you appeared with that radiant smile, he felt a spark in his chest that drew him closer to you than anyone else. He found himself paying more attention to your words and frequently caught himself admiring you from afar. Yet, he couldn't quite place his finger on what this feeling was, or, he was just in denial about them. As Valentine's day approached, with the sun dipping below the horizon, Shadow couldn't shake the worry of your absence. After all the excitement you had generated around this day, you had vanished just when it finally arrived. He asked others where you were, but no one knew

Finally, with a long sigh, he drew three sharp knocks to your door. He could hear muffled groans, a few clattering sounds, some muttered curses, and finally the unmistakable sound of locks turning as you opened your door. Instantly, he took in your disheveled state: the dullness in your eyes, the tangled mess of your hair, and the wrinkled clothes that suggested a sleepless night. You sniffled, surprise flashing across your face.

"Shadow! What's up? Did you need somethin'?" You asked, leaning against the door-frame. Shadow quickly realized that you were sick, and that was why you were cooped up in your house all day.

"Do you have a cold?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Unfortunately came down with it last night and, man, this is a rough one. Usually a little cold doesn't keep me in bed all day but this one sure did!" You explained, your voice was hoarse, no doubt from all the coughing you were probably doing.

Shadow quirked an eyebrow at you. "Have you been taking medication?"

From the way you immediately broke eye contact and started fumbling over your words, he knew that was a no. You always were stubborn. He sighed and shook his head at you, and he noted the way you tensed up. Did you think he was angry?

"It'll help you get over it faster."

"That's the thing… I- Er- I don't have any medicine for it right now and I've been too sick to go out and get some." You frowned, running a hand through your hair to smooth it down.

"I'll get you some. Go rest. Leave the door unlocked, I'll be back." He swiftly spun on his heel, you tried to stop him, but before you could even get a word out he used Chaos Control. Shadow told himself that he was simply doing what any other mobian would do if someone they knew was sick, and this wasn't him caring about your well-being. The more he tried to bury and deny his feelings, the more they grew. Deep down, he knew what he was feeling, but he had never felt this way toward anyone and so he wasn't sure what he should do. The thought of letting someone inside of the walls that he so strongly built around himself scared him, the idea of being vulnerable made his chest tight.

Without hesitation, he swiftly collected medicine for your cold and picked up a couple of soups, hoping they would soothe your sore throat. After completing the purchase, he returned to your front door and opened it without a second thought. This was Shadow's first time inside your home, and he took a moment to absorb the surroundings. It was clear you appreciated a cozy living environment; a few plants decorated the windows in both your kitchen and living room. Your minimalistic decor showcased an eye for style, and the space was impeccably tidy. After mentally mapping out your home's layout, Shadow stepped into the kitchen and placed the bag of supplies on the counter. He then retrieved the medicine, quickly checking the recommended dosage before filling a glass with water. He paused, surely you could do this yourself right?

He shook his head, he wanted to take care of you. He was coming to terms with that.

Slowly, he approached your bedroom door, pills and water in hand. He knocked, he heard your muffled voice allow him entrance. Upon entering, he blinked, taking in the mess of your room. It was a stark contrast to how organized and clean the rest of your house was. Laundry was strewn about, a couple used tissues laid next to the full mini trash can next to your bed, some blankets and pillows thrown on the floor.

"Sorry for the mess… Haven't had the energy to clean up." You scratched your head, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it." Shadow simply shook his head and stood next to your bed where you laid. He placed the glass of water on your bedside table, then held out his gloved hand, two pills sitting in his palm. You promptly sat up, and he watched you swallow the pills quickly, a look of disgust on your face afterward. He assumed you weren't the biggest fan of pills. Shadow took another look around your room, he felt a pull to clean up for you.

Taking care of others would normally irritate Shadow, but when it came to you he felt naturally inclined to do so. You were the first one he would run to on the field, the first one he would ask if you were okay. There was no denying the feelings he had developed for you, but he was scared of them.

"Shadow, you okay?" The sound of your voice, and the feeling of your warm hand on his shoulder brought him from his thoughts. When you retracted your hand, he couldn't help but miss the warmth is provided.

"Would you like if I tidied up for you?"

His question definitely shocked you, and you were quick to decline. Despite Shadow asking, he was not taking no for an answer. He huffed air through his nose as he reached over you and grabbed your TV remote, quickly putting something on for you to watch while he began cleaning. The mess did not bother him, he was quite an organized hedgehog himself and liked his belongings in order. Judging from the rest of your house, you were similar, and he knew the mess probably bothered you. He started by picking up all the laundry on the floor, throwing it into the basket that sat in the corner of your room, then put your bedding back onto your bed, and finally picked up the pieces of trash that laid about. Thankfully, the movie he had randomly chosen for you kept you entertained, and not protesting his offer to clean for you.

He threw the load of laundry into the washer, then came back to your bedroom to check on you.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, standing next to your bed with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't know if it was intentional, but you stared at him for a solid minute, he grew nervous under your gaze, his heart rate picked up.

"Hm, I guess I could go for some food." You shrugged, starting to swing your legs off the bed.

"What are you doing?"

You paused, clearing your throat. "Going to make food?"

You watched Shadows expression change from confusion to annoyance, had you said something? Was he annoyed because he was taking care of you? You didn't know, but you felt tense under his narrowed gaze.

"I can make it for you. You need to rest." His tone came out harsh, but there was a hint of care laced somewhere. Shadow always wore a grumpy facade, making it difficult to discern when he was genuinely upset. However, as you spent more time with him, you began to notice the subtle nuances in his behavior that others overlooked. It was unclear whether he was aware of it, but he frequently reached out to those he cared about. You had witnessed him do this with you several times, and each instance sent a rush of butterflies through your stomach. While Shadow showed concern for others, including Sonic, it was evident that his attention toward you was different. The depth of his care ignited feelings within you that you couldn't ignore.

You had planned your Valentines perfectly, you were going to wake up early this morning, run out and grab a few cheesy gifts, and present them to Shadow in private, asking if he would be your valentine. It was a bold move, really, but you couldn't dance around your feelings forever. So when you came down with your cold, you were bummed. You didn't expect Shadow to come and check on you, but you had to admit it made you feel warm inside.

You stood from your bed and padded out into the living room, Shadow was in the kitchen, stirring your noodles until he heard your footsteps behind him. He swiftly turned around, creasing his eyebrows.

"Relax! I'm okay, I need to stretch my legs, I've been laying down for hours." You held your hands up in mock surrender, waiting for him to start scolding you for not resting. Instead, a long sigh escaped his lips.

"Fine. But when your food is done you're sitting on the couch." He said sternly, eyeing you until you nodded in agreement.

You leaned against the counter, eyeing the pot of noodles on your stove. You didn't have an appetite for anything, but you knew trying to eat something was better than not eating at all. Shadow stood just in front of the stove, his gaze was fixed on the pot, but his mind seemed elsewhere.

"Hey Shadow?" You called, the words leaving your lips before you could think. "Can I… Confess something?"

He blinked and turned to meet your gaze. In that moment, you felt incredibly small beneath his intense stare, your nerves overwhelming as you struggled to meet his crimson eyes. Uncertain of why you found your voice, you had no idea how to articulate your next thought. You had been waiting for Valentine's Day to confess your feelings to Shadow, and you refused to let anything, especially the cold, deter you— especially not with him right in front of you, an opportunity life had presented. Your heart raced wildly against your chest, a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach.

You inhaled deeply. "I, uh, originally had some special plans for today. Since it is Valentines and all. Er… plans for a special someone, someone that I like."

Shadows brows raised, and for a brief moment you saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes.

"He's… complicated to understand." You continued, "He doesn't let anyone close emotionally, and he puts on this tough front but deep down he has a soft, and caring heart. I had the perfect day planned, I was going to buy flowers, and a candy I think he might like, and then… I was going to take him to a little secluded area, give him the gifts and confess my feelings. But then I got this stupid cold!" You sighed and pushed yourself off the counter, you pinched the bridge of your nose, a blush creeping up on your cheeks. You knew Shadow was smart, he could figure out you were talking about him, but you wanted to tell him directly that you liked him.

"It's you. I had that planned for you, because I like you." You finished, shyly looking at him and awaiting his reaction.

First, he was shocked, then confused, then a look of… relief? And finally, he exhaled.

"The feelings are… mutual." Shadow ran a nervous hand through his quills, and he looked away from you. You found it cute how he, The Ultimate Lifeform, was getting shy while confessing his crush on you. You couldn't help but giggle, and his eyes quickly snapped back to you.

"What's so funny?" His brows furrowed, replacing the relaxed expression he had just seconds before. You reached out, placing your hand on his shoulder. He looked at your hand, then to you as you spoke.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just… I was expecting a rejection, or something along those lines. But, it's nice to know the feelings are reciprocated."

Heat rushed to his cheeks, and Shadow quickly regained his composure, turning back to the stove to finish preparing your soup. He couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze; his heart raced so wildly that he feared you might hear it too.

Despite his efforts to look away, your hand remained on his shoulder, providing a comforting presence he desperately needed. He was taken aback by your openness about your feelings; he never expected you to harbor such emotions for him. Relief mingled with nervousness and fear; acknowledging that you both liked each other led him to question the next steps toward a relationship. Did he truly want to pursue this? Could he offer you the support and care you deserved? Was he the right partner for you?

Communication was not his strong suit; he was accustomed to keeping everything bottled up inside. He worried that his tendency to be distant might push you away, and self-doubt clouded his mind, leaving him frustrated with himself. Yet, when he glanced at you again and caught the twinkle in your eye, the rosy blush on your cheeks, and the smile dancing on your lips, all those uncertainties faded away.

He followed you into the living room and sat next to you on the couch, he watched you slowly eat your soup, he could tell that you instantly felt relief in your throat, a satisfied hum rumbling in your chest. Even while sick, he looked at you with awe. Shadow always appreciated your looks, specifically your face. Whenever you smiled at him, his heart fluttered. The feeling was foreign, and when it first started he thought he was sick.

"This is good," You broke the silence, bowl resting in your lap. Shadow had positioned himself on the other end of the couch, you chuckled. "I don't bite. C'mon, sit next to me."

Despite how bold and straightforward you were being, anxiety swirled in your stomach. You knew Shadow would not make any first moves or initiate anything, whether it was because he didn't want to cross boundaries, or was too scared, you didn't mind. You watched him slowly scoot to the spot next to you, it made you smile. You put a show on the TV, and indulged in the soup he made for you. You didn't know what came after confessing your feelings for each other, but you were sure you could worry about that another time. For now, you wanted to relax, and enjoy the company you had while you were sick.

You placed your now empty bowl on the small table in front of the couch before leaning back. You thought for a moment, then leaned your shoulder against Shadows. He stiffened, not expecting the sudden contact, and unsure what to do. You stayed like that, and eventually you felt him relax, and heard a content sigh come from him.

[joonsytip]

Withering for You || Seungcheol - Epilogue

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): tears, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, mention of alcohol consumption, lovesickness, healing, friendly threats, suggestive

Word Count: 5.7k

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

You're enjoying the peace and calmness that moving to a different country has brought within. It has been half a year since your divorce with Seungcheol had been settled, been four months of you making a decision seemingly best for you by moving out.

Both you and Seungkwan had wanted to open several branches of your academy all around the world because you both believed that music transcends barriers and connects souls.

Though your motive while shifting was a break from everything but it also resoluted to build another branch rooted to Melodease.

You are busy nowadays, given you've to overlook the purchase and legal matters, start taking care of the design, contract and staffing. Seungkwan has offered to come over and share the workload but you're always the one to brush it off. Because keeping yourself busy is the only way to not overthink about that one person whom you wanted to spend the rest of life but apparently it was too much of an ask.

The divorce, you had tried everything to withdraw it but you should have known, it was Seungcheol who wanted for it to happen at any cost. So eventually you succumbed to his stubbornness. He wasn't even willing to face you, making it impossible for you to reach out to him so you couldn't quite recollect when was the last time you saw him. All you could remember is he never again made an eye contact with you, since he left your house that fateful night.

A rift has been created between you and your friends. You were so mad at all of them for making Seungcheol aware of the bitter past that you've been hiding. They got earfuls from you whenever they breathed in your direction. You had stopped humouring them, even going as far as to inform them about your departure just two days before. A huge fuss was caused by Mingyu and Eunsoo while Seungkwan and Wonwoo blamed themselves quietly.

When Wonwoo had arrived at your doorstep the night before your departure to apologise and ask you to reconsider your decision, you in turn had assigned him a task which you couldn't do yourself.

Your parents visit you from time to time and it's your brother who crashes at your place the most because though everyone hesitates, he's the only one who doesn't lend an ear to your protests.

"It's been half a year, don't you think you should let loose and forgive those four.", Chan voices out distressed as he once again sees the string of texts and voice messages he received in the group chat he was suddenly added to one day just so your friends could get updates of you.

"You don't understand Chan. It was not their decision to make. You don't think I could have told Seungcheol if I wanted to?", you sit down frowning, "We did end up getting divorced after all. And even though I'd have dealt with my career, I don't know how he is doing on his own because now he would neither even confide in his family and nor he has many friends. It has become a fight against his family, against the people he cherished the most."

Chan understands your friends but most importantly he understands you, he nods and sighs, "There's something I haven't told you."

"Did Seungcheol come and apologize to you, mom and dad after I left?", you say giving a small smile.

Chan is flabbergasted, "How did you know?"

"I just guessed. I knew he'd come someday, it's only after I left. Wish I could have just gotten a glimpse of him before coming here. Why do I miss him?", you say suddenly fanning your face and look up trying to blink away the tears. Chan observes you silently.

Your heart still beats for Seungcheol.

Seungcheol rubs the wedding band which sits on his finger, lost in thoughts he then proceeds to caress the other wedding band the one he wears in a chain, which is also yours.

In the last few months, he solely focused on destroying Jiah. He went on to dig her past and accumulate every malicious deed, hurtful comments or poor gestures done by her throughout her life including all her flings. If it would have been earlier he would have had a hard time believing it all but not anymore. After gathering every possible bit, he made his PR team to work overtime to destroy her image. Each day new articles would resurface by random journalists on several platforms.

"I'm sorry, Cheol", Jiah cries at his feet, hands clasped, begging, "Please please just stop, I'm ruined."

Seungcheol laughs completely apathetic, "This has just begun. I'll bring you on the streets. I make you cry tears of blood."

Jiah looks him at horrified, "I'm begging you, we are best friends Cheol--"

Seungcheol burns at her words, "Since you showed me how best of a friend you are, it's my turn to show how great I can be. I won't stop until you dread hearing my name, until you regret what you've done. Hell, you've just heard of it, I'll make you live in it."

"I'll do anything you want, I'll apologise to Y/N please spare me.", Jiah continues to beg.

"Don't you dare utter her name with your filthy mouth. For the tears you made her cry, I'll make you cry tenfold. If you think there's gonna be an end to it, no, you'd suffer till your consciousness stays with you."

Then he makes the security drag her out of the building, onto the road.

Using her now completely ruined image, he pulled all cards to ruin off her father's company. Though he felt bad for her parents but they should have raised their daughter well and since they didn't it fell on their plate as well. That's what he had said to her father when he had the business go bankrupt.

Seungcheol doesn't stop here, he's still finding ways to put Jiah behind the bars, and if concrete proof doesn't knock on his door, he has his mind set on creating a whole new room of miseries for his said best friend.

But nothing he does gives him a sense of fulfillment. He's empty, heartbroken and a looser in love. Every time he remembers the way he had treated you, the schemes he had plotted against you, the venomous words he had said to you and the hatred he harboured towards you, they make him wanna disappear from the face of earth.

His parents don't get to see him, there's no monthly family dinner at the Choi's anymore.

Seungcheol who wanted to have you as his in all of the lifetimes, doesn't dare to make such a wish anymore. He has failed you, so he accepts the fact that you deserve the best. Someone who's not him. Someone who gives you all the smiles and none of the tears.

The wedding gown which you left untouched in his closet when you had moved out, Seungcheol walks in every night just to hold the garment. He imagines you in it and hugs it to his chest pouring his heart out. Each night  the empty house echoes his cries. The composition you had gifted him on his birthday, he plays it everyday while reminiscing the times he has got to spend with you.

His heart only beats for you.

"You are in love with your ex husband who's in love with you as well? I still don't get why you both are divorced."

You roll your eyes and walk past Jihoon who doesn't bother to follow behind because you'd be able to hear him anyways.

"Make it make sense, from what I heard...", his brows quirk up and nods at himself, "The bigshot Choi Seungcheol is being unnecessarily dramatic when you both can now live happily ever after."

You throw him a glare, "Don't you dare call him dramatic. He's in a rough spot and going through hell. But since he's stubborn and won't listen to anyone, we'll both keep wallowing in pity."

Jihoon gives you a look, "At least you're sensible. Anyways, you'd always see a DND board on my cabin's door. So please don't hesitate to get lost and not show your face to me."

You're neither surprised nor disappointed.

Lee Jihoon is a prodigal producer who's renowned around the world for his compositions. He can play every instrument in and out (claimed by people) specialising in Violin. You and Seungkwan had been eyeing him since long for managing your academy and it took you a lot of effort and determination to be able to rope him in. The man is always snappy and unfiltered. He knows he ain't people pleaser thus, he likes his space and doesn't allow interference. You just have to trust and leave the rest up to him and it'll be all taken care of.

Surprisingly, he knew you as well and though he would never admit, you're guessing the only reason he agreed to manage the new branch because as an artist he felt violated with your supposed plagiarism case. That he empathizes with you.

You don't usually go around sharing your personal life with everyone but with Jihoon it came in candid. Gradually, he came to know about you and you about him. The man is a feline who can differentiate good from bad. So after pulling many late nights and over many drinks, you both have become comfortable with each other. So comfortable that he treats you as his errand woman and every time you dare to protest he threatens to breach the contract because as he brags he has money. That annoying mf--

Jihoon knows he shouldn't be nosy but also he couldn't turn a blind eye to how you cry every time you get wasted. How whenever you bring up your husband there's an abyss of longing in your eyes. Though you're diligent and pushing yourself hard, your mind always reels back to him.

"It's your birthday next week, what do you want?", Jihoon asks and tuts instantly, "Except for Seungcheol, I can't give you him."

"Nothing.", you state blatantly, "Just stay with the academy."

"Nevermind, trying to give you Seungcheol sounds easier.", Jihoon jokes and the cushion he receives on his face isn't uncalled for.

Nobody is as distressed as Mingyu. He hasn't seen you in months, you don't talk to him like before. He feels guilty. He shouldn't have involved himself in your matters when he knew why you tried so hard to cover the truth. He regrets urging Eunsoo to confess to Wonwoo because even though she presses that she's fine and masters at hiding her feelings whenever in the same room as Wonwoo, he knows she isn't exactly doing well. It's been quite a time and neither you nor Eunsoo are doing well. Not like Wonwoo or Seungcheol are doing any better.

So he thinks it's only the doable, he needs to take the matters into his hands, if not alone atleast with Chan and Seungkwan. It might try to fix things one last time, with no expectations, no agendas of his own.

When Chan asked Mingyu to accompany him somewhere, he found it odd but agreed nonetheless.

His face changes when he finds himself infront of Seungcheol's house.

"If you see any tendencies of violence in my speech or body language just hold me back. I don't wanna beat Seungcheol but actually I do wanna beat him.", Chan says as they enter the house.

Mingyu is already breaking in cold sweat and the only accountable relief is Wonwoo's presence. When they see Seungcheol, both Chan and Mingyu are shocked at his state. He looks sick and tired.

"Are you okay?", Mingyu asks and Seungcheol nods. That's when his eyes falls behind and he sees the large wedding picture frame hung on the wall. His eyes linger further and he sees how on every wall there are pictures of you, or you and him.

Chan witnesses that Seungcheol's doing as bad as you, maybe worse. Seungcheol has not been able to meet his eyes since he knew about the past like now, his eyes are down in shame.

"Look at me", Chan says calmly, "You don't have to be ashamed of something you have never taken part in."

"But my father did.", Seungcheol whispers, "I can't forgive myself about how I treated you all and her when all you did was protect me."

"You are not doing fine neither she is.", Mingyu adds, "What's the point of seperation when you both love each other?"

"She cries everyday because of you. Regrets wanting to be selfish and marry you because you're suffering. She blames herself for everything to the point that she isolated herself from her family, friends and her academy. She's alone off to a faraway place where if an emergency occurs the fastest we can get to her would be after a 10 hour journey.", Chan doesn't usually breaks but his voice cracks, "It's so hard to see her being hard on herself. The breakup in the past must have been hard on you, but for her it was worst. I shouldn't be disclosing this but it took her a lot of therapy sessions to get out of depression. It was arduous for all of us because as you know she's the life of our family, the academy and her friends circle."

Seungcheol listens to your brother wide, teary eyed. He feels as if he's in a whirlwind.

"When I don't have any grudge against you, Y/N wants to be with you the why are you making all of our lives miserable?", Chan speaks with frustration, "You still have chamce to make things right. Don't choose to be a victim to the circumstances once again and let the love of your life go. You both have defied the odds and been together so why complicate things when there could be happily ever after waiting for you both."

"Do I deserve--"

Seungcheol haults in track, scared when he sees Mingyu seething and fisting his hands.

"Stop being a crybaby and own up. You caused a lot of damage to Y/N and you should make it up to her.", Mingyu says through his gritted teeth, "Stop trying to run away. That woman has been suffering for years just because of your family and you. She's a saint for being so understanding and patient, always putting everyone above herself. Though she'd never admit, we all know that she went away just not to be a bother for anyone, specially you. I'll beat you to a pulp if you suck up one more time. Fucking coward!"

Tables turned, now it's Chan and Wonwoo who are holding Mingyu back because Mingyu himself has the patience of Saint so when he gets worked up, things get out of control.

In the midst of all this, Mingyu throws a glare at Wonwoo as well and that's when the later unhands him and steps back.

"Do you lack common sense? What's the point of hanging her pictures and playing her compositions when after all this, she's waiting with her hands open but you won't go.", Mingyu keeps on scolding, "Why do we have to come and speak sense into your mind when you're an adult with much developed brain, developed enough to plot things to ruin someone's career?"

Six pairs of wide eyes falls on Mingyu. Seungcheol thinks hell has come in form of the buff guy infront of him. Chan thinks it's so cool of the same buff guy. Wonwoo thinks in near future he'll be facing the same fate as Seungcheol's facing today.

When Chan and Mingyu leave, Wonwoo stays behind. He quietly places a box on the table.

Before Seungcheol could enquire, he answers, "Y/N had requested me to give you this box on her birthday. Though I don't know what it contains but I do have a feeling that there won't be any more appropriate time to hand this over. I should have given it to you earlier."

After Wonwoo leaves, Seungcheol exhales sharply as his hands gently caress the box and carefully opens it.

There's a letter that sits atop. He opens the thread tied around it and starts reading.

Hey Cherry,

I couldn't help but call you that, sorry if it made you uncomfortable. If you're reading this, then it's probably my birthday today. I'll make my birthday wishes later but here's a return gift for you. This box is an ode to you, to commemorate your love because enough we didn't get our happy ending, I could live the rest of my life reminiscing the moments we spent, the love we shared together.

Now let me show you what our love meant through my eyes. There should be a sweater inside the box, take that out.

Seungcheol immediately takes out the red crochet sweater and traces over the garment and the wordings on it. He then goes back reading the letter.

Remember when we were dating, I had grown an interest on crocheting and took classes. I had woven this sweater for you. It says "Mon Amour", which means my love in French another outcome of the music lessons I was taking from the French teacher. Never got a chance to give you this and now that you've grown big muscles, it won't fit you. You can give it or throw it.

Now you'd see a pile of vinyls. Since you've always encouraged me to pursue my passion, you became the source of my inspiration. There are 26 vinyls and each of those compositions were inspired by you. Some were composed when we were dating, some after our breakup, throughout the span of seven years and some while we were still married. I thought of returning these to their owner in true sense. These came straight out of my vault. You can keep them or burn all of them.

Seungcheol takes out the vinyls and rearranges all of them in the order of the dates written on them. He notices each Vinyl cover had a colour of it's own and each one was addressed to his name in your handwriting.

You've always loved Tulips. Remember each time I bought you those, how you'd end up getting sad because they'd wilt? So I gathered every colour I could and preserved it for you. There's a flap in which I've kept the Tulips. Don't get sad anymore, they'll stay with you now.

The rest are random things I had brought on whim either because I thought you'd like them or it reminded me of you and they may not make any sense to you.

Seungcheol notices the spilled ink in many places, blurring the words, as the letter reaches it's end because of the tears those fell down while you wrote the letter.

Nostalgic isn't it? So now that we're closing in, I'd like to say a few things to you. I don't blame you for happened in the past, nor does my family. As things turned out, we didn't end up together. But I don't want you to become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. Let's not be that (only if you're comfortable enough to acknowledge me if we ever cross paths again).

As I said, even though it's my birthday I'll make a wish for you, make sure to fulfil it. Not request but it's a demand from your ex-wife. I wish you would move on from all the sufferings and pain. You should move on from me, from us. I wish for you to fall in love again with someone who'd keep you happy and bring back the liveliness in you. I admit it would hurt me, a lot but it'd mean nothing if you'd be well.

Never hesitate to come and find me, even if it's just for a brief moment. I'm always available for you. Also, just to remind you, don't you feel lonely, remember my friends are yours as well. Do disturb them at your will, most they'll do is throw tantrums but they're nice I promise. I love you, will always do. But you, move on okay? So that's all I guess. Sorry took too much of your time. Take care of yourself.

From,

Your Cherry (for one last time, promise)

Seungcheol is bawling his eyes out, screaming in pain as he reads your letter again and again, occasionally holding it close to his chest.

There's only one question that reels in his mind. How could you love him so selflessly?

You didn't expect much on your birthday but with all your friends and family travelling hours long, jamming up your place just to celebrate your day, it feels nice.

"Jihoon arranged the cake, but since Y/N wanted the party to be held in here he cancelled the venue.", Seungkwan states as a matter of fact, "Thank God, he's here otherwise my lifeline would have receded to half worrying about her."

All of your friends look at you happily chatting with your parents.

"Thanks Jihoon.", Eunsoo expresses her sincere gratitude, "I'm so relieved that she has you. She still hasn't forgiven us and knowing how private she tends to be, it's nice that she at least has you."

"We all feel the same.", Wonwoo assures and Eunsoo side eyes him as she shifts further away from him, changing seats.

Jihoon smiles genuinely, "Y/N is a great person to have around you so gradually you'd be willing to reciprocate the efforts."

"Good things, happen to good people but why is she suffering?", Mingyu sighs, chugging the can of bear, "She says she's mad at me, but she bought me my favourite limited edition watch when I was still recovering from the ligament injury."

"Yeah same, she checks on me throughout the day and night whenever I am going through a rough patch.", Eunsoo adds, "Even asked me to come and stay with her to take my mind off", she looks at Wonwoo, "things."

"Yeah, we may not always talk like we did before but she still cares the same.", Seungkwan says, "It's her nature, she can't do anything about it."

"Something good should happen to her soon.", Jihoon implies as he twirls the can in his hands.

The night goes on with you spending time with your dearest ones and catching up with everyone.

"Thanks for coming everyone.", you say making a toast, "I haven't felt this good lately. Y'all made my day really special."

At some point it's a mess, you're chasing Mingyu, who's screaming for his life because he smashed a big chunk of cake on your face. Eunsoo is eating off Jihoon's ears because she wants to hear him play Violin. Wonwoo doesn't like it a bit but there's nothing he can do apart from glaring at Jihoon. Seungkwan and Chan are debating over something useless, everyone is sure that next they're gonna fight each other to impose their point. Your parents look at all of you with a fond smile on their faces.

It's an hour till midnight when everyone decides to leave for the hotel they've been staying in. Though your friends and brother offer you help but you send them all away knowing they're still tired from such long journey.

You clean up the place and check the time before jogging down to throw the Dustin bags. All you could think of was if Seungcheol had read your letter. Doesn't matter if not today, as long as he reads it, any day is fine.

It's chilly outside as the full moon shines brightly. You stand outside not entering the gate and close your eyes to feel the breeze. It's calming, you think.

When you open your eyes after staying out for good amount of time, you think you had drunk a little too much.

"I shouldn't have drunk so much, now I'm seeing you.", you shake your head, slap your cheeks and look ahead again, "Why are you still here? Just vanish.', then you turn back to go inside the house.

"Y/N..."

You halt and say, "Now I'm hearing things also, great."

Suddenly you're being back hugged, "You're not hallucinating.", that's when you freeze, realisation gnawing on you.

Seungcheol has really come, he's physically present.

"W-What are you doing here?", you asked in your choked voice.

"I think we should have this conversation inside, only if you'll allow me to.", Seungcheol says and loosens his grip.

"Y-Yeah sure.", you don't look back, at him and walk straight into the house with him following you.

As Seungcheol takes a seat, you kick away the balloons, "Sorry, it's a mess right now.", and you flee to the kitchen to bring some slices of cake, "Have them, it's your favourite flavour."

"Happy Birthday, Y/N", he wishes you, taking the plate and you smile at him fondly.

"Have you eaten dinner?", you ask him and he shakes his head, "Came here straight from the airport."

While he eats the cake, you serve him all the dishes saying, "You should have told me that you'd come. I would have waited and we could have had the dinner together."

Seungcheol looks at you, wordless. So do you, observe him, the black hair that falls on his forehead, thick eyebrows, his brown orbs, dimpled cheeks, the small nose and stubbled chin, all of it. There's a soothing silence and you don't wanna break it.

"Y/N, there's a reason to why I came today."

You are calm, willing to listen to anything he has to offer because nothing worse can happen than what has already happened.

"I am not well without you.", he gives a small smile not meeting your gaze, "People are saying I look like a ghost nowadays, you can see it as well.", there's a pause before he looks at you and continues, "Your friends and brother have been trying hard to speak some senses into my mind. And I received the box you left for me, last week."

"But you were supposed to receive it today", you say calmly, "If my friends and family are pestering you, I'm sorry. I'd tell them to stop."

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. He grabs both of your hands, "The problem isn't about me being unwell without you. The problem lies with you being more heartbroken and pained without me. You have suffered enough, you shouldn't be suffering anymore."

His hands trail gently upto your face, "And I'm here today to solve that."

You habitually lean into his touch, "Don't say something that would break my heart again, on my birthday."

"I know even without trying or repenting if I ask you to take me back, you'd do it in a heartbeat.", tears prick at his eyes as he speaks, "And now that there're no more secrets, though it's selfish of me but I want us to be together again, to live and to love forever. I want to love you right, treat you like you deserve to be treated."

You break down in tears, hiding your face in your palms, sobbing as you say, "This feels unreal. What if I'm dreaming and you'd be gone when I wake up?"

Seungcheol sniffles as he hugs you tightly, "I'm here, love. I won't go anywhere, I promise."

You snuggle closer to him, he embraces you tighter.

There are few taps on your back and you pull back only to Seungcheol making you stand up. You eyes questions him as he pecks your forehead quickly and kneels on his left knee.

Your eyes go wide as saucers as you watch him unfasten his chain and take out the ring, which you recognise is yours. He holds the ring saying, "I want to spend all of my tomorrows with you because you taught me the real meaning of love. Would you please with cherries on top, marry me?"

Not trusting your voice and with a frantic nod of head, you extend your hand towards him, onto which Seungcheol slides in the ring. You put the other ring on his finger and pull him into a fervent kiss.

Before he could take you to the bed and have you, you're pushing him away, "You haven't eaten, dinner first."

Seungcheol groans, his lips finding it's way back on your neck as he whispers, "I wanna eat you out. You're my meal, you're my dessert to devour."

You give up knowing, he's not going to listen because he's stripping you down to nothing, kissing and sucking everywhere.

"I love you, love you so much.", he keeps on murmuring, "You're mine, only mine."

Carrying you inside, he slams the bedroom door shut. All you could remember is his name and the way he worked on your whole body diligently through the night, till the morning.

"I wanna meet Lee Jihoon.", Seungcheol says during lunch, because that's when you both finally left the bed after long long sessions of love making.

But he makes you sit on his lap, "Because along with the plane ticket that I found on my office table, he had sent a card with the instructions to give it to you."

He takes out the card from his coat which was hung on the chair and gives it to you.

'Here's your birthday gift, Y/N. Told ya, giving you Seungcheol would be much easier.'

You are grinning ear to ear, "Definitely, he seems snappy but is actually quite a nice guy."

Seungcheol gulps when he remembers the other note which contained nothing but the pure threat of kidnapping, smuggling and dumping him to your house if he doesn't come here voluntarily, "Y-Yeah sure, he must be a nice guy..."

The nation is in uproar because it was such a sight to see Choi Seungcheol carrying his ex-wife in bridal style, smooching her throughout, in front of the media, till they're seen out of the airport.

Another shock comes from the musical prodigy, Lee Jihoon who returns to his roots posing as a bodyguard to the couple.

The media doesn't get to rest when a month later, both the Choi's and Lee's publish articles about your wedding to Seungcheol along with some glamourous shots from the private wedding that took place with limited guests consisting mostly closed friends and family.

Some are confused, some are shocked but more or less everyone is curious. No matter how hard the paparazzi are trying they're unable to pull tabs on what actually happened. You both are the trending topic and though all tabloids are based on pure speculations, it also shows the upper hand The Choi's have on protecting their matters.

"I have the sent the data as an anonymous to the police.", Wonwoo informs, "I'm sure it'll be concrete enough to put Jiah behind the bars."

"Great.", Seungcheol smiles, "Keep on digging, make sure once she's in, she never gets out of the prison."

Wonwoo gives a nod and leaves.

"Are you sure he like Eunsoo back?", Seungcheol turns to ask you.

"You should notice how stone cold poker faced Wonwoo starts to show emotions whenever he sees Eunsoo with Jihoon. I have caught him stealing glances at our Soo as well.", you sigh, "I know it must be hard for him, but I wish he could just be honest with his feelings."

"I'll talk to him", Seungcheol assures and as if a switch flips he pouts saying, "Why'd you have to go? We just got married."

"I'll have to look over the academy until it's fully functional.", you tell him, "Jihoon can take over after that but till then I'll have keep going back and forth. But hey, I'll be here for a month before I go, let's utilize it to the fullest."

"Of course, baby. Don't worry I'll manage my schedule so that I can be there with you for most of the time.", he pecks your lips, "I'm so proud of you. I love you."

"Love you too, Cherry.", you smile looking at him.

"Let's plan for our honeymoon--"

"Cheol, I was thinking that...", your lips purse into a line, "instead of touring, can we spend some time alone without work, just the two of us, somewhere cozy. Only if you're okay with it, I know you're busy and to take time completely off--"

You're cut off by his lips on yours. He kisses you for a good amount of time and says, "If you want it then I'll manage. Anything for you baby."

You smile pushing him away, "You're down bad.", ypj tease, "I'll have to drop by the academy, Seungkwan is waiting."

"I'll take you.", Seungcheol gets up grabbing the car keys, "I'm sure everyone is there specially Jihoon, I'm a fan."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah everyone is saying so but he's a plain pain in ass to me. Let's take Wonwoo with us.", grabbing your clutch, "I'm planning to visit Wonseok, let's go together this weekend. Also, I've informed Ms. Oh that we'd be eating out tonight."

As Seungcheol drives, your mind reels back to everything that happened over the month. Your husband proposing to you, you coming back and accepting things with his parents as they offer their earnest apologies. Though Seungcheol is still not on talking terms with them and you're yet to entirely let go of what they've done, you think time will mend the relationships.

Getting married again but this time just out of pure love. Discussions about having family, bearing his children in future comes often and you don't miss the gleam in your husband's eyes when you both talk over it casually nowadays, him always assuring that he's ready whenever you're ready. Your friends now becoming more of Seungcheol's group as they pick each other's habit and throw unfiltered banter, Jihoon included.

If years of suffering have led you to witness these days then you're content because it's all worth it.

Even though Seungcheol is engaged in a conversation with the group, he sweeps a quick glance at you, smiling fondly and mouthing a 'I Love you' before diving back just to sulk at something Mingyu claimed.

You say those words right back to him in your heart, a thousand times more as you make a wish you have him as yours in all lifetimes.

To be fully seen by somebody and be loved anyhow is a human offering that can border on miraculous. Having withered for each other and falling back in love, lucky you both to be spending the rest of your lives together.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[laursdomain]

Helloo I very love your work on the lastest Percy! Thank you so much for writing them🫶🏻

I also would like to request Percy x reader as well. Where Percy and Annabeth went down to tartarus. But it will be Percy and reader instead. Where reader decided to let their hand go, so Percy will be ok. That make Percy go wild to find reader.

Thank youu✨

i'll find you

pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

genre: angst

synopsis: Monsters are more deadly and powerful in Europe. You learned that the hard way. Now, you and your boyfriend found yourself in a predicament you wished you weren’t in. Knowing how stubborn and loyal Percy Jackson is, you make a decision for him. A decision that leads to him raging against everyone and everything. 

warnings: angst, protective!percy, piper is a brat, annabeth is still on quest, physical altercation, established realtionship

w/c: 1.9k

ྀིpercy jackson masterlist

.ೃ࿐

You were in quite a predicament. Your wrist surely had a red mark from how tight Percy was gripping your wrist. His own hand remained firm around the rocky terrain that led to Tartarus. You knew his hand would start slipping soon, and there was no way for Percy to find purchase on the son of Hades’ extended hand.

“You have to meet us on the other side of the door!” Percy shouted up to Nico, implying you both would free-fall into Tartarus.

You had no choice but to fall into Tartarus. You accepted your fate the moment you were pushed, a result of the deadly monster you faced minutes ago. But, you were not going to let Percy go with you. He’s Percy Jackson, the Son of Poseidon, for gods sake. Could he survive Tartarus? You had no doubt that he could. You couldn’t let him come with you in good conscience, even if it reduced your odds of surviving. 

“Are you crazy?” Nico’s voice is firm, and you realize it’s the same tone Hades uses. Like father, like son.

“We don’t have a choice,” Percy grits out, starting to lose purchase. He was running out of time, and he was running out of it quick. 

“Percy,” you grab his attention, taking in his beautiful sea-green eyes. “Let me go.”

“Over my dead body,” his words hold truth, he’d rather do anything else than let go of the love of his life. 

“Percy, we have no idea where we’re going.” Nico points out, communicating between the remaining demigods and the two of you. Nico was the only one who could withstand the force of Tartarus, maybe it was a child of Hades thing.

“You have Jason, trust him.” Percy’s fingers start slipping on his ledge, and he realizes he only has about a minute, two if he’s lucky, before he falls. With you.

Decisions swirled in your mind as the conversation above you is drowned out. You were stuck—do you let your boyfriend fall with you or do you betray him in order to keep him safe? He’d forgive you for the latter, wouldn’t he? 

You may regret this decision, but you act on pure impulse in the next ten seconds. You take your free hand, reaching up as you latch onto his hand. Percy thinks you are just finding more purchase on his hand, not thinking much of it. He couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Percy,” you get his attention again. He turns to you, meeting your eyes. He could tell you were absolutely terrified, and all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and keep you safe. Before he can say a word, you continue. “I love you.”

He smiles, one full of absolute love and adoration. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

When he turns his head back to Nico, you take your chance. You meet Nico’s gaze, mouthing to him. Take care of him. Nico becomes acutely aware of what you’re about to do, and before he can warn Percy—to try and stop you, you beat him to it. Your hand pries Percy’s relenting fingers off your wrist, watching as Percy whips his head back to you, eyes widening. Before he can fight against your fingers, you pry the last finger from your wrist, free falling into Tartarus.

You can hear Percy scream your name, but it soon becomes a distant echo before you’re surrounded in darkness.

Percy wants to jump after you. In fact, he nearly succeeded in doing so before Nico pulls him out of it.

“Percy!” The son of Hades’ voice comes from above, “grab my hand!”

“I have to go after her!” Percy shouts, rage filling his body.

An empathetic look overtakes Nico’s features, “even if you do, you won’t land with her. Tartarus is weird like that—you always enter somewhere different. You could land on the opposite side of the realm, and your efforts would’ve been useless.”

“Useless?” Percy spits out, “she’s down there alone, and you want me to not do anything?”

“She’s stronger than you think, she can survive. She will survive. We’ll meet her on the other side of the doors, you have to trust me. No, you have to trust her.” 

Percy grits his teeth, knowing Nico had a point. Every bone in his body screamed for him to go after you, but he relents. He listens to Nico, straining his free hand up as he gets pulled up. He misses the feeling of your wrist under his hand, he misses you. He felt as if his soul has been ripped in half, and he longed for your presence, your voice, your touch—your everything.

Percy didn’t like this one bit. He didn’t like not sharing his bed on the Argo II with you. He didn’t like the way everyone else had a pitiful look on their faces, yet not saying a word about you. Every second that ticked by made him regret not falling after you. 

Percy walks into their make-shift dining room, watching as everyone’s heads turn in his direction. “What’s the plan?”

“What?” Piper asked, raising a brow at Percy.

“What’s. The. Plan.” He reiterates his words, watching the gears turn in Nico’s head.

“We need to find the doors of death, that’s the plan.” Nico explained, falling short on where the doors actually were. He knew they were in Rome, but that was it. He was hoping his friends could fill in the blanks, but they all remained silent. 

“Where are they?” Percy’s questions are short and snappy, not caring for mannerisms. He didn’t care about anything until he had you in his arms again.

“I was hoping someone had an idea,” Nico glares at the remaining members, noticing the way their demeanor has changed since Percy walked in. 

Jason had his gaze firmly locked onto his food. Leo nervously fiddled with his screwdriver, oil smudging his fingertips. Hazel nervously fidgeted as well, accidentally summoning a couple of jewels in the process. Piper had a bored expression on her face, gaze locked onto Jason. Frank had his usual worry line creasing in-between his brows, not sure of the answer himself. Annabeth was the only one who seemed to be thinking. 

“We’ll find her, Percy.” Annabeth’s words hold truth, trying to reassure her best friend. “They’re in Rome, you’re right Nico. The doors appear in a different place every time, according to myth. Although, they typically appear in a place that is mythologically important.”

“How much does that narrow it down?” Percy asks, hopeful.

“Not a lot,” she winces, also upset by the outcome. “I’ll keep researching.”

Percy nods, accepting her answer. His eyes fall on the rest of his friends, taking in their expressions as well. He could tell Leo and Hazel were upset, but weren’t sure how to console him. He didn’t want consoling, anyways. He couldn’t tell what was going on inside of Piper and Jason’s mind, but he didn’t like the way he couldn’t tell if they were concerned for your well-being or not. You were a member of the team and they looked like they didn’t care. Aside from Annabeth and Nico, Frank was the only one who seemed to be brainstorming. 

“What if it’s in a spot that it hasn’t been in before?” Frank questions, directing his question to Annabeth.

She nods, analyzing the possibility. “I can see if that narrows it down, but it doesn’t say anywhere in myth if that’s true. Actually, there’s practically nothing about the doors in myth. Let’s take that route, it’s our best shot right now.”

“Annabeth, keep brainstorming and try to narrow down the list as much as possible. Frank—help her, you seem to have an idea on Roman mythologies. Leo, make sure Festus and the Argo stay up, get us to Rome as quickly as possible. Hazel and Nico, try to figure out anything you know about Tartarus from Hades.” Orders fly out of Percy’s mouth, using his leader role to his advantage. He refused to sit by and do nothing while you survive in Tartarus, he will find you.

The five demigods nod in understanding, leaving the table to get to work. Percy’s gaze falls onto Piper and Jason, their expressions neutral. Jason could feel Percy’s gaze on him, and reluctantly—he meets it. 

Percy cocks a brow at Jason, “are you not worried at all?”

“What?” The question takes Jason aback, appalled he would ask that.

Percy steps closer to the two, “are you not worried that Y/N is in Tartarus all alone? That she could possibly die and our efforts to close the doors was a fail? That our entire quest was a fail?”

“I am worried about her,” Jason levels his gaze with Percy’s, instantly able to tell Percy was upset.

“Then why do both of you look like you don’t care?” Percy snaps, bracing his hands on the table, not caring how rude he sounded.

“I care,” Jason repeats. “I just—I never know how to deal with these type of things.”

“These type of things? I’m not asking you to feel sorry for me, Grace. I’m asking you to be the soldier you’ve been trained to be since birth and help me find my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m asking for a lot—unless you think otherwise.”

Jason understands what Percy is getting at, relieved he doesn’t have to figure out how to be empathetic about the situation. “I have a vast knowledge of Roman mythologies, I will go help Frank and Annabeth.”

Percy nods, eyes following Jason as he walks out of the room, heading in the direction of the room Annabeth and Frank went into. Piper stands, presumably to go follow Jason. Percy intercepts her, forcing her to stop.

“What?” She questions, folding her arms over her chest.

“For a daughter of Aphrodite, you seem to not care.”

“She fell in on her own,” Piper retorted, watching the way Percy clenches his jaw.

“She chose to fall in on her own. It was supposed to be both of us, but for some reason, she wanted me to stay.”

“You two would’ve never been in that mess if she wasn’t clumsy.”

Piper doesn’t see Percy’s fist coming. Percy knows he shouldn’t hit a girl, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it when it comes to you. He’ll always defend your name and actions, especially when you can’t defend it yourself. His fist connects with Piper’s jaw, hearing a crack as she stumbles back. She clutches her jaw, though there’s no blood. She’ll have a nasty bruise and soreness, but that’s about it. The situation Percy found himself in left his anger uncontrollable.

Piper curses under her breath, “are you crazy?”

“If it were Jason, you would be acting the same way as me. Now, stop acting like a pompous brat and help us find the doors so we can get her out of there.”

“Is that a request?” She tilts her head at the son of Poseidon, challenging him.

“No. It’s an order. I was elected leader, so you do as I say. Now go.” 

Piper has a remark on the tip of her tongue, but she bites it. She turns on her heel, stomping away. Percy’s not sure where she goes—nor does he care. His mind falls back to your falling frame, the last image he has of you. He prays to every god he can think of, major and minor, that you are safe and okay. He’ll find you, even if it’s the last thing he does. Not even Thanatos can stop him from getting to you.

Percy Jackson will kill anything that stands in his way of finding his way back to you.

You will destroy everything that crosses you in Tartarus—even Tartarus himself—until you find your way back to Percy.

.ೃ࿐

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Taking care of his girls (part 1)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)

Warnings: none

a/n: another girl dad Carlos because I just can't get enough

Y/N's pov

The newborn stage is extremely challenging. Sleep deprivation caused by countless sleepless nights, lack of energy, baby crying even though she ate half an hour ago, trying to figure out the cause of her crying, colic, baby not latching, painful feedings or lack of milk production - all that and much more comes when you step into motherhood. Trust me, it is exhausting both physically and mentally and anyone who says otherwise is lying!

However, not much is talked about how demanding and tiring and difficult it is when you are burning with a fever and can barely stand on your feet, and you have a two-year-old daughter who also has a flu and who, in addition to all of that, is a very stubborn daddy's little girl and doesn't really like to listen to anyone except her dad. That two-year-old is our little girl Bea. Bea is a very stubborn and smart girl who is very attached to her dad and loves spending time with him. She is completely enchanted by him and whenever Carlos returns home from the race, she does not separate from him.

We've only recently started taking her to the races, but since she tends to run around the paddock and starts screaming when it's time for Carlos to get in the car, we've decided that we won't be able to follow Carlos everywhere he goes.

This time we could not attend the Grand Prix in Italy for another reason, and that reason was because I caught a flu, which almost knocked me off my feet, and two days later Bea was burning with a fever as well.

Being alone with her while I was sick, doing all the housework, cooking and taking care of her was very difficult and exhausting. I was very worried about her because she had a high temperature, she was very weak, she didn't want to eat much, she was crying all the time and she just wanted me to hold her in my arms and cuddle her.

Carlos returned from Italy to our home in Madrid yesterday and we both couldn't wait to see him. When he came back I could finally breathe a little, sit down and rest because he decided to take care of both of us.

It was the same today, even though I felt a little better, Bea was still coughing a lot and her nose was blocked, so I decided to go to the pharmacy to get a children's inhaler. Carlos decided to stay with her and fulfill all her wishes, and today the wish was cuddling and watching cartoons in the living room.

It took me quite a long time to get to the pharmacy, make the purchase and get back home, so I only returned after 45 minutes. The sight that greeted me when I entered the living room brought tears to my eyes, but happy tears full of gratitude.

Bea was lying curled up on Carlos' chest, his arms wrapped around her as his head fell back against the back of the couch his lips slightly parted as both of them were fast asleep while Dora the explorer begged for help in the background. Carlos tied her hair into a small ponytail on top of her head while her baby hairs were messily sticking out. For a moment I just stood next to the couch and watched them smiling and thinking how did I get so lucky?

"Babe" I approach Carlos from the back of the couch and whisper into his ear. "Babe, wake up." It took him a minute to realize they had fallen asleep and to wake up.

"Ay dios mío.." You could also hear the tiredness in his voice because he didn't sleep at all last night. He demanded that I rest and that he would look after Bea overnight.

"Let's take her to bed okay?" I say quietly trying not to wake her up.

"What time is it?" He asks.

"It's only 7 p.m. I'll take care of her tonight, you get some sleep okay?" I say caressing his cheek.

"No, no I'll do it You still haven't fully recovered amor and I want you to." He says leaving a kiss on my thumb. Just as Carlos slowly straightened up from a semi-lying position on the couch, Bea startled and started crying.

"Shh cariño, no llores." (shh darling don't cry) Carlos immediately began gently shushing her and rubbing her back as I sat next to them.

"Do you want to go sleep in mommy and daddy's bed baby?" I asked her placing a kiss on her hand. She doesn't usually sleep with us, but when she is sick we always let her.

"No" She rubbed her eyes nervously, still crying and burrying her head into the crook of Carlos neck. "Papa, mama" She whined extending her little hand towards me, but not wanting to leave Carlos' embrace.

"Está bien mi amor, mamá y papá están aquí, no te preocupes." Carlos said tightening his grip around her with one arm and with the other pulling me closer to them.

We quickly gave up on trying to talk her into going to bed because we realized it would only upset her even more so we both decided to curl up to Carlos.

"Mis princesas." I leaned my head against his shoulder wrapping my arm around our little bean as Carlos kissed both of our foreheads.

Part 2 here

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!ghost x f!reader / part 2

previous part

tw: talk of past trauma/abuse, implied past s/a (not with ghost), alcohol, mentions of suicide

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

You were trying. You really, really were. For the first few days of this sudden deal you had made with a hitman you had just met yet somehow felt compelled to prove wrong, you were doing good.

You cleaned the entirety of your apartment, tossing out the old liquor bottles that littered your cabinets. You stocked your refrigerator that had been near empty for months apart from the old takeout boxes that had been slowly decaying away. You even went to work with a damn smile.

You were doing everything you could to prove to Ghost that maybe you didn’t want to die after all, that it was a fluke in your system convincing you it was what you desired.

You hated being a weakling. You hated that Ghost was right. You wanted to prove to him you could make it to two weeks and that you didn’t need him to kill you after all. You wanted him to be proud, though you didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if he knew you, nor you him.

He was a stranger, but he was the first one to ever give you an ounce of care and attentiveness, even if it ended up being a facade on his part.

It took all but four days for your resolve to crumble, and you found yourself back at square one, entering your shitty apartment with bags of alcohol that you impulsively bought on the way home from work.

Like you said. You tried.

Stepping inside with a grim expression adorning your face, you shucked your shoes off of your feet, dropping your purse to the ground without an ounce of care for it.

Everything felt heavy as you slid further into the apartment. Your mind was running a marathon that went all sorts of different directions. It felt like the weight of the world laid on your entire body, and you wasted no time in heading straight towards your bedroom.

With the bags of alcohol still in your hand, you stepped into your bedroom, feeling a slight breeze that was never normally there. It sent a chill down your spine and caused goosebumps to rise on your skin beneath your sweater.

Eyes preyed on the state of you, and when you finally gathered the courage to look at the sliding door to your bedroom balcony, a familiar masked man stood there, lazily leaning his arms against the railing, nursing a cigarette.

The sight reminded you of the night the two of you stood out there, where he coerced you into making the damn deal in the first place, one you were too stubborn to deny at the time.

It was the first time you had somebody in your apartment since the last man in your life, and you swore you’d never allow it to happen again. Yet here he was for the second time, standing there like he lived in the apartment with you.

You felt like a complete idiot when he took in the alcohol bottles and the sunken eye bags on your face. Four days into the deal, and your facade already broke.

“That doesn’t look like figurin’ it out,” Ghost said in a dry tone, yet it didn’t hold judgment like you expected. If anything, he sounded a bit disappointed, maybe even pitiful.

You stood like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar, bags dangling loosely by your sides, eyes boring into his. Guilt gnawed at you for purchasing the alcohol and already failing at your end of the deal.

The smoke that slipped from his lips did nothing to fog over his piercing stare, and you could feel yourself becoming weak under it.

That’s what you were. Weak. A weak, stupid girl.

You don’t know how long you stood there in a daze, but it must’ve been quite some time because he turned his whole body towards you, leaning his back against the railings. Now you were definitely trapped under his stare with him fully facing you despite the slight distance between you in the doorway and him on the balcony.

“Still got about ten days left of our deal. You goin’ to back out so soon?”

Your hands balled the plastic handles of the bags tighter, and a feeling of shame came over you.

What were you doing? Did you really fail yourself after four days? Did you really buy more liquor to ease the pain?

“Don’t know why you’re so concerned about the deal anyway. You’re missing out on money by not killing me like I want,” you retorted with a frown, dropping the bags on the bed carelessly. The bottles clinked loudly, rattling in your ears like a cruel reminder of how pathetic you were.

He snorted, taking a puff of his cigarette that was slowly burning between the press of two fingers. It curled around him like an embrace, filling the night air with spouts of gray and nicotine.

“‘M not that concerned about the money, sweetheart. More concerned ‘bout the stupid girl who’s tryin’ to commit suicide through a hitman.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. It made you look defensive, which is absolutely how you felt. The day hadn’t treated you well, and now Ghost was here to taunt you about the silly deal you made in the spur of the moment.

You didn’t understand why he was concerned. The two of you met once — twice, technically, but all in the same day. Nobody ever worried for you, nor did you have anybody in your life to worry about you.

Why on earth did a man meant to kill you care about you?

It felt like a trick. Maybe it was all apart of his plan, maybe he was one of those sick, cold-blooded killers that posed themselves as hitmen. That must’ve been why he wore a mask, and why he pretended to care.

Your mind was eating you from the inside and out, spiking your anxiety and causing it to feel like little knives digging into you more and more. It sliced at your insides, tearing your chest and stomach with nerves and shame that made you want to pop open one of the bottles and drown yourself in a buzz of alcohol. At least liquor wouldn’t interrogate you.

“You goin’ to stop lookin’ at me like a dead fish?”

When you came back to your senses, he had a small smirk on his lips where the mask was lifted for you to see. It wasn’t a genuine smirk, and it was far from a smile — it was sarcastic and teasing, like he knew he was making you feel stupid and deranged, and was enjoying it.

“Can you just murder me and get on with it? Deal’s off,” you snapped, and he huffed out a laugh, flicking his cigarette to the ground of your balcony and lightly crushing it beneath his boot.

“‘M not a murderer,” he argued, and you gave him a bitter laugh.

“You’re a hitman.”

“Exactly,” he agreed with a shrug of his shoulder. “A hitman. Not a murderer. The real murderers are the ones who hire me to kill people. I just do the dirty work, sweetheart.”

Ghost had a twisted way of defending his work, but you supposed he had a point. After all, you were the one practically begging him to end your life.

“You— whatever,” you muttered, letting out a long sigh. You sat on the edge of your bed, burying your face in your hands and attempting to rub away the obvious exhaustion in your eyes.

There was no point in arguing with him in the first place. He was clearly playing you like a fiddle, and for why, you weren’t sure, nor did you have the energy to care.

Your entire body felt heavy with emotions from what transpired in your day, and Ghost was making no signs of leaving you alone to drink your sorrows away and hopefully succumb to alcohol poisoning — an easy way out.

“So,” Ghost began, breaking the tense silence. He took a step inside of your room, shutting the sliding door behind him and allowing the night chill to remain locked outside. “How ‘bout you tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty head, and we make it to day five of our deal, hm?”

You lifted your head from your hands to see him standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets, mask tugged back down over his face to hide his mouth, head tilted down at you in a way that made you realize just how much of a behemoth of a man he was.

“‘M waitin’.”

“You wouldn’t get it,” you defended with a scowl.

“Mm. Try me.”

“Fucking Christ,” you hissed. The emotions that had been brewing inside of you were threatening to spill out like a damn geyser, and it was becoming near impossible to hold them back.

You sat for a moment while he patiently (or impatiently, you didn’t care either way) waited for you to collect yourself. Truly, despite how annoying he was being tonight, what was the harm in telling him? After all, he was offering, and he didn’t know you. Plus, hopefully by the end of this stupid deal, he’d kill you and learn to forget about what you were about to say.

“I saw somebody at work,” you grumbled quietly, turning your eyes away from him as if ashamed. “Somebody I didn’t want to see. Brought back bad memories and now here I am, spiraling to the point of no return, all because I let that fucking idiot get to me.”

Ghost hummed in acknowledgment, one of his gloved hands coming out of his pocket to rub at the fabric covering his chin.

“Hm. An ex, then?” he asked, and you nodded your head.

“Guess so, yeah. He… he was a bad person, y’know? Really fucked me up, in the relationship and after. Can’t seem to get away from the fucker.”

“Makes sense.” Ghost shrugged a shoulder, letting his hand fall back in his pocket. “You really goin’ to let some arse have control like that? Thought we had a deal, sweetheart. Four days in and you’re already droppin’ like a fly ‘cause of one brute.”

You scowled to yourself, feeling a mix of embarrassment and shame settle in your bones. God, how weak were you?

“He was an abusive asshole who took everything away from me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Go on. Tell me more.”

So you did. You don’t know why, but his words were the green light for you to spill out every bit of misery you’d been holding in for so long, you couldn’t even recall when it began.

He listened, putting in his own input at times, or giving you the occasional nod to show he was listening.

You told him everything — the abuse, the mistreatment, the torture. How you lived a life full of black and blue, skin so tattered it was permanently damaged from the pain your ex would cause you. How he wouldn’t ever let you say no, and would manipulate you into giving in, no matter where, no matter when.

You had permanent scars on both your mind and heart from how much of yourself had been torn down. Even now, you can remember the screams that caused your throat to become raw and you begged, pleaded for him to stop. You wanted all of it to end, and you remembered how much you wished your ex would just kill you so you wouldn’t have to suffer a life like that anymore.

Old habits die hard, you suppose. Things don’t change, even with time.

It was pitiful how long you had put up with such abuse, but you did, and there was no rotating the clock so you could go back and redo your entire life again. If you could, you wouldn’t be here, trauma dumping on your own hitman.

You weren’t sure how long you spent pouring your heart and soul to Ghost, but by the time you were finished, your face was red, your breath was heavy, but your shoulders were more relaxed than before, as if the weight had been carefully lifted and placed elsewhere.

Ghost stood silent for a long pause in time. He stared at you, eyes taking in every movement of your chest, every twitch of your fingers. You didn’t stare back, for your glare was locked on to the ground as you took that time to recollect yourself and not appear like the broken, battered girl you knew you were.

“Well,” Ghost finally spoke, and when you looked up at him, his eyes were on his phone. You don’t remember him ever pulling it out, too focused on your own self destruction. “Would you look at that. Made it to day five.”

He turned the phone to face you, screen lit up to display his lockscreen. It was the default wallpaper, no sign of life or personality evident. When you took a closer look, you saw the time, and realized he was right.

It was 12:01. Just past midnight.

“Let’s make it to day six, yeah?”

Ghost shoved his phone in his pocket, giving you a nod in farewell before he took steps forward towards your bedroom door.

You sat there in stunned silence, eyes blinking dumbly. When you realized he was leaving, you whipped your head in his direction.

“What—“

“I'll be back soon, sweetheart.”

He didn’t let you finish your question, giving you a small wave of his hand. You noticed his eyes crinkled where they were exposed from under the mask, and you realized he was smiling at you, even if you couldn’t see it.

You couldn’t help but give him a relieved smile back.

[misguidedasgardian]

Kinktober 2024

PURGING ON YOU TONIGHT

Summary: A last minute emergency makes you stay home for the annual Purge, everything should be fine, you mostly kept to yourself the rest of the year, what you didn’t know is that you where in the scope of two men of your surroundings

Pairing: Dark!Negan Smith x Fem!Reader x Dark!Daryl Dixon

Warnings: Dark!content, The purge AU, 12 hours of free crime, reader has a gun, age gap! reader late 20’s Negan and Daryl late 40’s, curses, masks, barbed wire bat, allusion to murder by our men, NON-CON TO DUB-CON, forced orgasms, threesome, unwanted threesome, force entering, mean!daryl, asshole!negan, humiliation, oral sex, plenty more of warnings, but I think this are the big ones, MIGHT MISS SOME PROCEED WITH CAUTION PLEASE

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 6.2 k

Notes: Uffff I've been obsessed with The Purge for a while now, hope I did it justice. I escaped horny jail this halloween to bring you this jijiji

“You should be on that plane right now…!”

“I know”, you said gently, closing your eyes in exasperation, as you heard your mother’s desperate rant on the other side of the phone, “I know mom”

“I can’t believe this, you had months to plan this! It's the same day every year darling! I can’t believe you didn’t see this coming!”

“It was at the last minute, just today they told me I had to stay”, you said

“Working the very day after the purge! what kind of job is that?”

“I’m going to be safe here mom”, you just entered the big metal gate of your building, you looked around, you were not very hopeful really

“Can’t you take the bus? quit if you have to, please”, hearing desperation in your mother’s voice broke your heart, “DC is so big, and dangerous, I…”, you held the phone tightly in your ear

“I’m going to be fine mom, the door has three locks and I can put in this metal bar I found”, you heard her sigh. “This is a…”, you looked around, this was not a good neighborhood, “decent place”, that wasn’t quite true, but it was near your job and the low rent allowed you to save some money.

“Do you have your gun?”, she asked then, now more angry than worried, because you were as stubborn as her, and she knew it, you were staying

“Yes”, you answered truthfully

“Loaded?”

“Yes”, you answered again, you opened the old but sturdy door that was the entrance to the building, the weight and the fact you were not using both hands made you stumble into the hall and collide with a poor bystander.

And when you put the phone away from your ear to focus you realized that it was none other than Negan himself.

Now Negan was your landlord, owner of the rundown ten story building, four apartments per floor, and he was…

Negan as a piece of work

“Oh hey darling”, you smiled but didn’t dare to answer as your were still hearing your mother’s rant through the phone

“Mom, I’ll call you later”, you said softly, and hang up, smiling at him

“Hey Negan”, he lived on the last floor, you on the ninth, you smiled at him, he smirked at you back

“Was that your mom?”, he teased. 

“Yes, she is concerned because I couldn’t make it back home for tomorrow”, you explained

“Ah, so you're staying here?”, he asked, his smile widening

“Yeah”, you said simply.

“Uh, well, I can always make room for you at my place”

Remember how you said Negan was a piece of work? He was recently divorced, when you started living here last year he had just purchased this building, he was separating from his wife, and you knew this because they overestimated the thickness of the walls.

They fought ugly

Lucille dropped his ass and since then, you had seen so many women coming and going from his place the door might as well be a revolving door.

He wasted no opportunity to flirt with you unabashedly, every time he saw you

“Thanks but I…”, you trusted no one on the most dangerous night of the year.

You had heard from people closer to you do things that you could only think belonged in a scary slasher movie. You had lost so many people and not because they died, but because of all the things they had done on this terrible night. You couldn’t believe that people went out there to kill and torture and destroy things and then the next day they just went on about his day like nothing had happened. You couldn’t believe this. 

“I think I’d rather spend it calmly and alone”, you said with a soft smile. His grin faltered, only for a second.

“Well, if you need anything, the offer will stand all through the night”, he said them winking at you

“Thank you, really”, you said, sincerely. 

“And uh… Dixon’s coming… for a last check on the gas line we installed a bit ago”, oh you did remember paying for that

“Sure”, you said nodding. 

“One last round today and tomorrow, he should get up there tomorrow afternoon”

“So close to Purge night?”, you asked him with a frown, Negan shrugged

“Dixon works good and cheap, and nobody’s gonna mess with him if he ends up out there late”, he said simply, you guess it was right

Now Daryl Dixon… You met him because he was the handyman around, he lived nearby. Gas leak? he could fix it, water was running down the stairs? He was right there knees deep.

Miss Pasternak once called him so he could open a can of pickles for her.

You were convinced that the eighty year old woman only wanted to see him flexing his arms that were thick as logs. And who wouldn’t?

You had the biggest crush on him, you got so nervous when he came around, he was so handsome. But you felt like a child, like a little girl with a crush. He was rough around the edges and always talked to you like you were the dumbest person on the planet. It was completely platonic, he had this thick southern accent that made it a bit hard to understand.

Every time you spoke to him it seemed like it annoyed him, so you procured to never break anything or really give him more work and make him come unnecessarily 

“You tell your mommy we are going to take good care of her little girl”, he said in a way so creepy you felt tickled up and down your spine.

“Well I will tell her that her almost thirty year old is going to be just fine”, you teased back, and stared your alk up the stairs

The hundred year old elevator was broken… again. 

You got to your floor almost gasping for air, and opened the door in a hurry.

Your apartment was a mess and since you planned on not being here, you had not made preparations, you didn't have any food or anything really. It was already getting dark and tomorrow was going to be a very busy day. The city always lost it the day before the purge, people selling guns on the street, all the supermarkets closing in your face, preparing for the looters… 

Fuck the Purge.

Well at least you were calm in the sense that nobody had it out for you tomorrow night, meaning, there is nobody that would hate you enough to come in and try to kill you or anything like that, well, you didn’t believe so

You were confident that you could have a nice calm night. You could load up some music and download some movies for you to watch, you had some nice headphones you could use to quiet the horrible noises you were certain you were going to hear.

Because you weren’t going to sleep, that’s for freakin’ sure. 

You spend the rest of the day cleaning up, making your apartment more comfortable. And you could barely sleep.

Which meant that the very next day your mood was in the gutter, you had half a working day, and they let you leave early, you barely looked at that dickhead you had for a supervisor, the one that had canceled your leave at the last minute. 

You bought some things on a market near your place, and then you tried to dodge as many people as you could. But the streets were packed, people going from one place to another.

You successfully evaded three knife salesmen and two that tried to sell you guns. 

You entered the building and tried to ignore Negan giving a hefty amount of money to some guys that didn't look friendly at all, they had masks hanging from their belts. Purgers, dangerous people who were going to be out there tonight, and Negan was paying them to stay around the block and protect the building, purging, but at least, not purging on you.

It wasn’t unusual, this sort of arrangement

In fact, you all pitched in for said amount of cash

When you were in the hall, you saw the old lady, Mrs Pasternak, with a couple of bags of groceries, you helped her put the rest inside her apartment, she smiled at you. 

“Thank you my dear”, she said, “I thought you were going home for this condemned night”, she said, “cleansing our souls! purging!”, she raised her fist in the air, “in my time men went to real war! they did not stay here and vandalized and killed innocent people!”, she kept saying, you only smiled, “we cleansed our souls by going to church! praying and be nice to one another”, you only nodded, not really knowing what to say. “You take care now!”, she said, grabbing into your hand and give it a squeeze, “be safe tonight”, she warned

“I’m sure we are all going to be fine, right?”, you said hopefully

“Oh who’s gonna bother this old bat?”, she said, in her eyes there was something unsettling, “It’s you that needs to take care”

“I will”, you promised her

“There are dangerous men in this building”, she said, “starting with that dickhead we’ve got for a Landlord”, you couldn’t help but snicker 

“He is not so bad”, you murmured

“Trust me”, she said, “you lock your door tight!”, she warned one last time, “if you have a gun, use it!”, before you said your goodbyes, you wished safety and parted ways. 

As you were starting your ascent the 9 flights of stairs, Negan was was your side, smiling down at you

“Planning anything fun for tonight?”, he asked, grabbing half your bags to help you

“Not really”, you said, “how about you?”, you asked him

“Nah, I might take out my rifle, set myself up on the roof, to take care of the lot of you”, he said simply. 

“Oh”, you offered, “have you… purged before?”, you asked him, he smirked at you

“Well darling, we all have repressed urges, right?”, he said, “things we need to get out there, the purge is exactly for that right?”

“Right”, you said, clearly uncomfortable.

Oh you were definitely using that metal bar tonight. 

When you got to your floor, you were surprised to see the door opened, you stood in surprise as you looked up at Negan

“Relax doll, it’s Dixon, I had to open, you were not here”, he said, and as the landlord he could open your door in situations like this. 

You entered your place and found the handyman in your kitchen, like they say the day before, he was checking the gas line that led to your oven.

“Hey Darlin”, he greeted, Negan put your bags on the floor and got comfortable against the doorframe, with no intention of leaving.

Your apartment was small, a single space for the kitchen, living room and enough space for a table to eat, and then a small hallway where you could find a bathroom and a very small room, not enough to fit a bed in there, which you used as storage, and at the end of the hall, your bedroom.

“Hey Daryl”, you greeted softly, with a smile. Today he was wearing an old henley, and he had cut off the sleeves, his thick arms working full time as he was using a wrench on the old pipe.

You were taken out of your stupor quite rapidly, as you realized, quite nervous that the cupboard under the sink was open, that is where you kept your gun, now it felt more childish to keep it there, rather than near your bed, you were actually thinking about taking it, but it had this special spot where you could hide it and keep it out of sight.

You really hoped this was the case.

You watched the old clock perched up on the wall nervously, it was a bit past five, the purge started at seven, it was a bit late to be doing stuff like this.

It was only going to take you a few minutes to lock up, but still, you got so nervous, you should have been home, with your family and their strong security system by now. But instead you were here, in downtown DC

“It’s getting late”, you said, Daryl frowned as he looked at you, “do you have someplace safe to be tonight?”, you asked him, to strike conversation

“Why? ya invitin’ me over or sum’?”, he asked, smirking at you. You immediately regretted your question, getting extremely nervous

“Oh I’m sorry… I don’t know you that well”, you tried to explain, but a chuckle of him interrupted you

“Relax doll”, he said, as he stuck his head underneath the sink again. “I gotta ‘couple of things I need ta take care of”, he said

Great, you were an hour and a half away from the Purge with two men who had clearly purged or intended to do it.

“Yeah, relax doll”, teased Negan, and you did not appreciate the nickname given you by the two of them. 

Daryl adjusted one last… whatever, his sharp eyes never leaving your form and made a big show of putting his tool back into his bag that he closed rapidly

“All done sunshine”, he said, still looking at you, you smiled at him

“Thank you Daryl”, you looked back at Negan who was watching the scene, completely interested in its development.

“Whatever”, he mumbled, “stay safe tonight sunshine”, he said

“You too”, you offered, and you really hoped he would. You couldn’t imagine the building without him, and the thought of something happening tonight to him really made you nauseous.

“I’ll see you out”, offered Negan, who was already out in the hallway and you found it strange that he didn’t take the opportunity to say a last hello to you before the awful night ahead.

But you were probably imagining things, why would he want to tease you specially? he talked that flirty way to every woman from ages 21 to 50, he didn’t discriminate. 

You started to put everything in order, not really even caring about the safety precautions until the very last moment, once you were done, putting everything in order and tidying your place, making it more comfortable for the long night of stress and death really, you looked at the clock and realized it was already 6:55

You ran to close all the windows, putting the locks on all of them, you even went ahead and closed the blinds your mother made you buy, so it wouldn’t attract any attention from the outside. Then, you closed the one of the bathrooms that led to the back of the building. 

You turned on the TV and you went to the main door to lock it tight.

With it as your background sound, you went ahead with your plan. The msot important one, you couldn’t believe you were doing it this late…

You realized in horror that out of the three locks, only one worked, the one of the doorknob, which was the weakest one, as you tried to pass the chain, you realized it was cut, the damn chain was cut!, and the second lock was so rusty it didn’t lock

What the hell? you could have sworn they were good the day before! or at least last week! you never used them but you had! Meaning… They worked!

You looked for the last line of defense, and in horror, you realized that the rectangular metal bar to barricade the door wasn’t behind it anymore, it was gone too!.

You looked everywhere for it, but to no luck, it is not like you could hide it anywhere, right?

Blessed be out New Founding Fathers, and America, a Nation Reborn

May God be with you all

It was a horrible coincidence, right? it had to be, because, what else could it be?

You needed to believe that

You tried to calm yourself, trying to steady your breathing, but still you could feel your own heart pounding inside your chest, anxiety taking a tight hold on you

Nothing is going to happen

Nothing is going to happen

Nothing is going to happen…

You jumped when you heard a car speeding down the street and someone screaming, but it came from outside too, so you tried to calm yourself again, to no luck

Nobody was coming for you, right? this was just a coincidence, you never used the extra locks, never, so… they might have broken, maybe you caught the chain with the door without realizing or something, right? accidents did happen

And the bar, well, maybe you put it elsewhere.

You grabbed one of the old wooden chairs and you used it to barricade the door.

Nothing is going to happen

Nothing is going to happen

Nothing is going to happen…

You probably put the bar somewhere else, so while you had that chair doing its job, you almost turned your apartment outside down to find it.

But to no luck.

It wasn’t inside the apartment.

Alright the locks might be one things, but the bar… that was strange, right?, that didn’t seem like a coincidence at all! that thing was there YESTERDAY, you made extra sure to check it, it was there, since you moved in, you never touched it.

You jumped again when the silence of the apartment allowed you to hear clearly a loud noise coming all the way to the first floor. 

You went to the kitchen then, your last resort, it's gotta be, well, you were not going to use it because nothing was going to happen right? nothing was going to happen if you had a gun in your hand.

Right?

RIGHT?

You let out a whine when you realized that the gun wasn’t there either.

Another sound made the whole hall of the building trembled

You didn't want to think that sounded like a gunshot, like a shotgun shot.

Probably you were imagining things

Yeah, like you imagined the locks, the bar, the gun and the fact that the sound was indeed a shotgun, you had heard them hundreds of times in movies and series.

But then, you waited… one, two, three and nothing happened, no other sounds, no voices, nothing, so you took a long breath, grabbed something to eat from the fridge, and something to drink, and took a seat on your old couch. to watch something on the TV

Purge news, already.

People going out there to the streets to purge, to let out the beast or whatever

It made your skin crawl.

You cuddled yourself hugging the cushions of the couch as you watched the whole country unfold in violence, death and gunshots, reports all flooding in. You wanted to fall asleep and wake up in a new day, done with this madness but that could not be possible, you were hyped, nervousness keeping you wide awake.

Another sound made you jump on your spot, screams followed by gunshots and a car speeding, then hitting the breaks and a horrible sound, like it had crashed into something, or someone.

It was outside, it was you there, not in here, you were going to be fine…

And then you heard it.

Voices, hushed voices, heavy steps coming up the stairs.

The building was trashy, you could hear everything that went down.

Then, a shotgun went off, right one floor down. You jumped from the couch and thought quickly on what to do. 

Was somebody purging on a determined person? Was it an isolated thing?

You were standing in the hallway, looking right at the door, no sounds followed, so you guessed you were fine.

From the second to the next, your door burst open. It was like in slow motion, pieces of wood flew through the air as the door slammed open against the wall.

You screamed, you couldn’t help it as the person immediately spotted you as you were right in front of the door. It was a big man, broad shoulders, all dressed in black, dirty jeans, heavy boots, and his face was hidden behind a mask. A huge shotgun in their hands. 

This was it. 

You tried to run back to your room, but as you tried to close the door, but a boot stopped you from doing so, he forced it open, your strength no match to his. You stumbled backwards not knowing what to do, fear taking a strong grip on you

“No! please!”, you begged, you noticed that the shotgun was gone, and that relieved you somewhat.

But it was short lived as this person leaned forwards and trapped you against the wall of your room

“Please!”, fat, fear induced tears started streaming down your face, the horrible mask was looking down at you, making you tremble, you never liked masks, especially ones that covered so much of someone’s ‘humanity’ just like this one

“please”, you begged one more time. 

The figure lifted one of its hands, grabbed the edge of the mask, and pull it off.

You gasped when you saw him. Daryl was standing right there in front of you, looking down at you with those sharp eyes of his

“What are you doing here?”, you asked him

“I came ta purge f’course”, he said, smirking darkly, like you had never seen him before

“What?”, you whined, the brief relief disappearing instantly, “Please… I don’t want to die, please”, you begged, crying, scared out of your mind. “Don’t kill me”

“Now, I ain’t gonna kill ya sweetheart”, he said, caressing your cheek, “there sum’ other ways ta’ release the beast ya know?”, you cried out as he grabbed your face. “Good thin’ I found ya gun”, he teased, and you whimpered, “that silly little thing would have made things a bit complicated for me tonight”

“Daryl please”, you cried, “Don’t kill me please”

“I ain’t gonna kill ya”, he said, “I ain't some psycho bastard”, he chuckled, he looked so calm, like this was just another wednesday, he then leaned in, and licked your face, from the corner of your mouth and upwards.

“Ah!”, you wanted to cry out, to scream, but a moan came instead, as you couldn’t release yourself from his tight hold

“I’m gonna release the beast though”, he said, “I bet you’re gonna like it”, he then placed one of his legs in between yours, making you now really trapped. You immediately noticed the friction as he pressed it even further between your legs, you moaned again

He certainly didn’t mean that, didn’t he?

No, no, it can’t be

“Ya like that don’t ya?”, he teased, “Mmm?”

“Please don’t do this”, you cried, “please”

“This s’my right”, he grunted against your ear, “m right to do whatever the hell I want”

“Daryl”, you called, as he dropped a wet kiss right under your ear, he kept grabbing your face, and he kept you still as he trapped your lips with his.

It wasn’t by any means romantic, it was aggressive, wet, messy, even rough. 

Oh this was happening, this was happening and you couldn’t stop him, you were no match for him, and you gave up embarrassingly quickly. 

“Ya always treat me like I aint shit”, he said against your lips, grabbing your neck

“No”, you said back

“Yeah, like I’m so hick”

“That isn’t true”, you whispered, “I really liked you”, you admitted. “thought you were handsome”, he only chuckled darkly, with his free hand he grabbed the cotton pants you were wearing and he deadass ripped them off of you. Making you whine and trash against the wall

“Daryl!”

“Damn right, scream my name”, he purred, you tried to close your legs, but his thick one was right between them, making it impossible, and now his hand, as the one in your neck threatened to take your air.

And then you felt them, his hands caressing, touching, feeling you up until he reached that place in between your legs making you shake

“Mmmno”, you mumbled

“Yer so wet fer me”, he grunted, you whined as you felt his fingers teasing your entrance, “ya dirty little whore”, this was not happening, you were not getting turned on by this, right? you couldn’t possibly be

Oh but you were

“Daryl”, it was a plea but sounded like a freaking prayer

“You like this don’t you?”, he asked, his breath hot against your neck, “yer so beautiful, and tonight yer all mine”, he grunted. He’s got two fingers deep inside of you, and he was skilled, finding that special spot so quickly it made your head spin

Oh this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening

You were in the brink of being undone when he released you, it was so sudden it took the air out of your lungs, one second he had his hands and mouth al over you and now you were alone, shaking against the wall.

You whined like, in fact, a dirty whore

He grabbed your top part roughly and made you take it out, leaving you completely naked in front of him, and he was still completely dressed.

“This aint some love-making bullshit”, he threatened, you barely nodded. 

He threw you face up on the bed, your head landing on the foot of the bed. And in a second he was all over you

“Ya understand?”, he asked, you nodded, “good”, he placed himself on top of you and between your legs, he wanted this quick, no more bullshit, he had said it, and yet, you thought there was the whole night ahead of you. But he seemed like he was in a rush

He released his cock, you leaned to see it and you whimpered when you did, fuck he was thick, and big

“Yeah, ya like it?”, he asked, he pumped himself a couple of times and then he accommodate himself at your entrance, you spread your legs even wider to make it comfortable for him, and he thursted, hard inside you, burying himself to the hilt

You screamed/moan a curse, filling so full, the stretch hurt, but it felt so fucking delicious, this was so wrong, yet you were so turned on. Your body twisting in fear, excitement and ecstasy that you didn’t know what to feel anymore.

So you surrendered even more to the man on top of you.

“Fuck yer so tight”, he cursed, trying to contian himself

He retreated until he was almost out, and then he thrusted back in again, making you moan again, he started fucking you in an unforgivable pace, relentless, hitting all the right spots on each one.

The old bed cracked under you, making you whimper as you laid underneath it and just took it.

You felt your orgasm building inside of you, and you welcomed it, you wanted it so bad. But again you were denied as a whistle made you both stop all movement. 

“Little pig… little pig! let me in!”, it was Negan’s voice, hitting a wall with something heavy. His thick boots sounded as he passed through broken wood and glass, and he advanced down the hallway towards your room. Daryl covered your mouth with his big hand, not letting you scream for help.

“What do we have here?”, he asked, appearing in your eyesight, although backwards for you. He was not fazed at all for how he found you, under Daryl, “damn!”, he had a barbed wire bat on his hand, and he was wearing a leather jacket and a white shirt underneath, “fancy finding you here Dixon, I thought you were allergic to women or something”, he teased

“Shut the hell up”, he drawled, moving on top of you.

“Negan”, you called, under Dixon’s hand

“Oh darling”, he teased

“Help”, you begged

“Help you?”, he chuckled, “oh darling, Dixon here got ahead of me!”, he teased, “I had been so pent up this last year, I really thought about what I wanted to do to let all my anger go, all my needs… released…”, he hissed, “Now, there you were, all cute and sweet”, you whined in fear as Daryl started moving inside of you again, “well, apparently you had been fanning Dixon’s flame too, not only mine”, he pleased his hand on his own chest in a hurtful stance, “and that makes me fucking angry! you are a dirty, little, attention seeking-whore, aren’t you?”, you shook your head but a moan escaped your lips instead as Daryl started pounding into you again.

“Either ya join us or you get the hell out!”, he grunted. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling you towards him, a slick, wet sound sounded louder

“Damn this is hotter than I thought it was going to be!”, Negan teased. “you got ‘er all broken down already Dixon! damn!”, he moved his abt and only then you realized that it was all dirty with blood and… was that skin? meat?.,

“Oh this? I had to take care of something tonight”, he said, “have you ever wondered why nobody messed with this building?”, he teased. “and if we are being honest, you don’t look like you need help at all!”, he mocked, “damn!”, he threw the bat somewhere on the floor, and got ready.

He was going to join you

You were going to protest but a particular hard thrust from Daryl got you all messed up, moaning.

“She is enjoying this”, Negan tease, “I love that”

“Yeah, she pretends like she is all good but at the end of the day…”

“She is a needy little thing isn’t she?”, he asked, Negan caressed your face with one hand, a glove placed in it, and with the other, he released himself. 

You wanted to protest, you did, all alarms in your head ringing, but you couldn’t as he stuffed his cock down your throat

“Uff that’s a good girl”, he moaned, “fuck, can’t wait to try her pussy”

“Damn, the best I’ve ever had”, offered Dixon.

He was feeling threatened, and as such he started fucking you even rougher if that was even possible. You couldn’t enjoy it much, feeling light headed because of lack of air, as Negan used your mouth like if you were a fleshlight

“Fuck she is good”, Negan grunted

Daryl cummed inside of you, you knew because he gripped your hips tightly, and buried himself deep, deep inside you. That triggered your own orgasm, as you shook underneath him, trashed and tried to get rid of Negan, who released you with a smirk.

“Fuck!”, you cursed, your climax washing over you as Daryl still had you on a tight hold, releasing the last of his load in your warm cunt. 

“Alright, my turn, I wanna cum inside her too”, Negan said, but you were completely destroyed, laying on the bed.

“She’s all yours”, invited Daryl. You wanted to protest, but not really, as you let them manhandle you into any position they wanted.

Daryl sat on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard of the bed, and he accommodate you in between his legs, Negan climbed onto the bed, grabbing your thighs, making you spread them for him

“A damn piece of art”, he admired Daryl’s ‘work’ as he licked his lips.

“Come on”, he pushed himself inside you, he didn't feel as thick as Daryl but rather longer, reaching even new spaces inside of you.

You whimpered, being already super overstimulated, but you spread your legs for him too, inviting him even deeper

“Good girl”, he grunted, as he drove himself home deep inside your tight walls, “damn, we are going to spoil men for this one”, he teased, “I don’t think I ever had pussy this good”

“Damn right”, Daryl looked down at you with something you might even considered sweet, he caressed your face, and your hair, like he was soothing you, and you needed it as Negan started pounding into you

“I usually take my time, but… can’t wait any longer”, he admitted. “she is too damn good”, he thrusted in over and over, making you push against Daryl, who held you tightly, letting Negan have his turn, sharing his Purge’s spoils.

He cummed inside you, just as Daryl had done, stealing another climax from you as well, that by now you were putty on the bed, like some ragdoll, with a stupid look on his face.

You had never been fucked like this.

Just when Negan released you and you believed you were done, Daryl accommodated you on your side.

“You got me all hard again”, he grunted against your ear.

It was around five in the morning when they were done with you, accommodating you in between them, both caressing your skin marked by their hands and mouths

“Uf how I wish I could keep her like this all year round!”, teased Negan, “wouldn’t that be nice Dixon? having this sweet thing all to ourselves, uh? all full of us, laying on our bed like this”

“Damn right”, he drawled. kissing your cheek

“I can’t wait for next year”, teased Negan in your ear, is the last thing you heard before you lost all knowledge of what was going on.

You woke up with the sun sneaking through the window, hitting you right in the face.

You grunted as you came to your senses, becoming aware again of where you were and what had happened. 

You looked around to find your room almost normal, it's the first thing you noticed, you frowned, sitting on the bed and then standing up, your body hurt, all of it, you were sore and in pain, you grabbed the firs hoodie you could find in your closet, and when you went back to the living room you realized that the door had been fixed, and it was closed, like nothing had happened at all. you looked around and everything was like it was the day before, before the Purge.

The only reminder of the events of last night was your trembling body. You were certain you didn’t imagine any of it. You looked at the clock and realised you were late for work, but they could go and fuck themselves.

You went to your bathroom and got into the hot shower quickly, it was cold at first but that is what you needed to come back to your senses completely.

You got dressed in the baggiest and more comfortable clothes you got, granny underwear included, and after applying make up to your horrified looking face, you got out of your apartment, ready to face the day.

“Good morning darling!”, you jumped when you heard him, looking up the stairs, he, as you, was fresh out of the shower. smiling down at you.

“Good morning”, you mumbled

“Have a good day darlin”, he said simply, he didn’t come after you, he didn’t make any comments or remarks, he was just being… him, you barely nodded and you ran down the stairs without looking back.

As you had your hand at the heavy door, you came face to face with Daryl.

You jumped in your place, he only looked back at you like nothing had happened.

Today he was wearing a blue overalls with the sleeves ripped out, he had this thing against sleeves… so weird. 

“Daryl”, you greeted, he only hummed, looking, again, like nothing had happened, but yo seemed to miss the little smirk he drew as you passed him.

Had you imagined the whole thing? no, impossible.

And yet…

You went into the street at noon, they were being cleaned, but no signs of bullets or corpses, or anything, it was like nothing had happened, the city was returning to how it was the day before. People were walking up and down the street, going or coming to work… 

Like nothing had happened

It made you feel like you were insane or something, so you did what you had to, you took the bus and you went to work. 

“Sorry for being late”, you whispered as you passed your supervisor

“It’s fine, somebody purged our boss so this and the next week is going to be pretty mild”, he said like it didn’t mean a thing that our boss was freaking dead, “I’m glad you are here at all!”, he said with a soft, guilty smile, “everything alright back at home?”, he asked, you frowned

“What do you mean?”, you asked him

“Well, after we approved your vacation days and all, we were so surprised you decided to cancel last minute and come to work”, he said

“What? I didn’t cancel anything’, you said

“Yes you did! your boyfriend called, said for you that you were not going to use your days, that you were staying here!”, he said all chirpy, “he said you had some fun plans for purge night! didn’t know you had it in you!”

[stargazedwinchester]

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `camaro, dean winchester

Summary: You run into the brothers at a gas station in your Chevy Camaro. Word Count: 797 Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

“Thank you for your time.” Sam nods politely at the couple before exiting the store. The brothers visited a gas station connected to the murder of a woman who had purchased items there shortly before she died. Their original plan was to visit the husband of said lady, to see what’s really going on. Dean pulls the gas pump out of the holder and plunges the dispenser into the impala. His eyes meet Sams, who purses his lips at him. “Nothin’,” he says, taking a gander of the whole place.

The gas station itself is situated practically in the middle of nowhere; desert and tumbleweeds reside close by. They’re smack in the middle of Arizona, the southwestern heat quite literally radiates off of the tarmac. Dean sighs, checking the price on the tank. Another vehicle’s parked beside the other pump. Dean’s eyebrows furrow, examining the car. “Damn,” he huffs, a frown forming on his face as he notices the Chevrolet badge on the side of the vehicle. “Whoever’s driving that thing has good taste.” He chuckles at Sam, then the door to the store opens up, the doorbell chiming as it’s pushed open.

And there you are, suited up in a black blazer paired with a tight, black above the knee skirt and a white blouse. You’re wearing your favourite jewellery and your hair tied neatly in a claw clip. You’re looking down at your phone, clipboard gripped under your other arm. Your phone rings, and you don’t hesitate to answer. “He won’t tell me anything. I tried everything, but the guy won’t budge.” You admit, sandwiching your phone between your shoulder and your ear, fiddling in your purse for your car key. Your car unlocks, and you toss the clipboard to the passenger side before shutting the door again. You lean against your car, the sun blaring down at you. “No, I know, I just can’t figure it out…” You sigh in defeat. Dean whips his head around to Sam, a hopeful, gleaming look in his eyes. Sam rolls his eyes before entering the Impala. He hangs up the dispenser before making his way around to you.

You hang up the phone, placing it into your pocket. “Hey.” Dean says, grinning at you. “Hey yourself.” You scoff, reaching for your car key once more. “Sorry, uh…” He hesitates, “Y/N.” You pause, glancing at him. “I’m Dean, uh, I just couldn’t help but notice your car here…” He slows, before examining it again. “What make is it?” He asks, a genuine tone in his voice. “It’s a Camaro,” you state, catching Dean’s eye. He’s not looking at the far, he’s looking at you. You hesitate. “1963. It was my dads.” You try to force the smile away that’s creeping up on your face, the fond memories you shared between you and your late father during your childhood.

“Same as me,” Dean recalls, placing his hands in his pockets. “I mean, this was my dads, too. A stubborn son of a bitch.” He chuckles nervously, making eye contact with Sam who’s still sat in the passenger, ushering him to hurry up. “So anyway,” he pauses, “it’s probably a long shot, but-“

“You wanna take me to dinner?”

“Oh! I mean, I was gonna ask for your number, but…” Dean fumbles around in his pockets, attempting to find his phone, or even a pen and paper. “You can take that too.” Your eyes dangle over his large frame, taking in every inch of him. He’s got broad shoulders, the 2 piece suit making him look even more so. From the moment he walked up to you, his hair was gelled perfectly, but since standing out in the sun, his hair has gone soft. He runs his hand through his hair. You’ll admit, he’s pretty hot.

For some reason, your presence really intimidates Dean. It doesn’t seem like it’s his first rodeo with women, but something about him really makes you want to know more. You whip your phone out of your pocket. “What did you say your name was?”

“D-Dean.” He stutters, smiling at you sheepishly. You tap his name into your phone, then passing it over to him to input his number.

“Right. Well, Dean,” you unlock your car again, opening the drivers door. Dean steps back, allowing you to enter your car. He leans into the window, his face very close to yours. “Call me.”

You turn the engine over, the Camaro purring beneath you. It vibrates, making Dean gloat at how well kept it is. You take the car out of park, and slowly move off. “Y-yeah, I will.” Dean watches you drive off onto the long dirt road, unsure whether he’s admiring you or your car. He turns around, catching Sam’s eye. “Dammit, she’s hot!”

[cal-flakes]

okay but imagine reader posting new swimsuit on her story but rafe makes her take it down 🤑🤑

╰┈➤ “delete it”

warnings: mean!rafe, toxic relationship, swearing.

summary: y/n knows exactly how to get rafe’s attention.

she sighed, scrolling mindlessly through her phone as she lay on her stomach, legs crossed behind her. it had been an hour, and she hasn’t heard from him yet, and that wasn’t like him, what was he doing?

swiping out of instagram, she checked her messages once again. delivered, the small text said below her last message. so he’s definitely got it, but he hasn’t opened it. petty, she thought.

rolling her eyes, she diverted her attention to the numerous shopping bags scattered around her bedroom floor, quickly jumping up with an idea. if he’s too stubborn to reply, this’ll surely get his attention.

pushing yesterdays argument with rafe out of her mind, she grabbed the smallest shopping bag, reaching in to retrieve one of the many bikini sets she’d purchased earlier that day.

she unraveled the white strings delicately, laying it out in her bed with a smirk on her face. oh, how he’ll hate this.

she hummed along to the quiet music sounding around her room as she tied the bikini strap around her neck, huffing as she positioned herself awkwardly to do so.

once all the strings were tied and adjusted to compliment her curves perfectly, she played around with the light dimmer before grabbing her phone.

opening instagram, her thumb pressed down on add to story, and situated herself seductively in front of the large expensive mirror. snapping a quick photo, and adjusting the contrast, she sighed in delete as she typed in a basic caption and posted it to her story. now we wait, she thought.

thirty minutes- or so, passed while she lounged around her room, having replaced the bikini with a comfortable pair of shorts, and one of his oversized graphic tee’s. by this time, she’d forgotten all about the post, focusing on her skincare routine as she pinned her hair back in preparation.

a quite shriek escaped her lips as the first hard bang landed on the door of her apartment, her frame jolting in fright.

gathering herself, she smirked slightly as she tip-toed to the door, listening for the usual torrent of abuse to fall from his mouth.

“open the fucking door y/n, i know you’re home!” his stern voice called, full of anger. she rested her back against the wall near the door, sure to keep her footsteps quiet. she knew what she was doing, and she knew it was wrong, but she missed him- and if this was her only way to see him, then so be it.

“i swear to god y/n i’ll put this fucking door through if you don’t let me in, now!” he yelled again, followed by three more loud raps, which echoed through her small home.

giving in, she pushed back off the wall, deciding she’d had her fun. “okay-okay! chill the fuck out dude!” she shouted, hastily padding over to the door and unlocking it.

she smiled sweetly at him as he stalked through the doorway, almost squaring up. “dude?- did you just call me dude?” he seethed, nostrils flaring as he towered above her.

“yeah? what’s the big deal?” she chuckled, nonchalant closing the door behind him before making her way past, launching herself onto the couch.

following suit, his heavy footsteps taunted hee as he rounded the couch, stopping between her legs to look down on her. “delete it” he spat, fists balled up either side of him. “delete what?” she cooed, twirling her hair as she looked up at him through her lashes. “you know what y/n, don’t play fucking dumb, it won’t work this time” he snapped.

“ugh, you’re no fun” she scoffed, rolling her eyes as she picked up her phone to unlock it. “no fun? you think being a little whore for the world to see is fun?”

gasping, she feigned offence as she held a hand up to her chest, mouth agape. “woah- that was rude, very uncalled for rafe..” she teased, smirking as she felt his eyes watching her while her fingers tapped away at the screen.

“see? all gone? you happy?” she laughed, tossing her phone back to its original spot on the couch. “oh, so you just do this shit to piss me off huh?” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“well- see, i missed you, and you were being all stubborn and rafe-like because of yesterday, so what else was i supposed to do..” she muttered, delicately taking ahold of his hands to pull him onto the couch.

deflating, he allowed himself to fall into the spot next to her, his hands moving to her waist instinctively as she straddled him. “you drive me fucking insane y/n, i don’t even want to know what other stupid shit goes on in that little head of yours..” he groaned, throwing his head back as she cuddled into him.

“yeah, but you love me” she stated confidently, pressing soft kisses to his exposed neck. “mhm..” he hummed, pushing some stray hairs behind her ear.

[untolduttering]

Hunger

Summary: The Sunny finds itself delayed in it's journey to the next island, causing Sanji's supply of blood to dwindle. He refuses to feed off of any of the crew, but you're determined to do something about that.

Tags: vampire!Sanji, gender neutral reader, established relationship, self-harm, blood, blood consumption, self-inflicted starvation

Word Count: 2.8k

The crew was supposed to have reached the next island a week ago. By Nami’s direction, the next island was a week away from the one we had been on. It had meant that we could be frugal with our purchases, that our stocks weren’t as hearty as they could be. But a storm in the first week halted our progress for repairs, and now the ship was stuck in the doldrums. It was becoming a miserable time.

The ship did have its usual emergency stocks, something that Sanji made sure to keep fresh and hidden for this exact emergency. Everyone would be just fine, save for one. The food would last for at least another two weeks without a problem, and by Franky’s design, all the water from the sea could be made drinkable. Blood, however, was an entirely different case. It could only store so well for so long. For a vampire, drinking expired blood would have as dire consequences as transfusing to a human expired blood. He had to keep to a strict schedule when it came to its consumption, and there wasn’t too much wiggle room for rationing. There was also limited storage—there were so many things that a happy existence required—and with Sanji’s self-sacrificing tendencies, he opted for less blood so that the kitchen and Chopper’s office would have more room for more “important things”. It was a decision that irked you constantly, but it was his life source, therefore his rules, and Sanji was a stubborn man, one that was no stranger to hunger.

His supply had run out three days ago, and it was making a miserable time into an agonizing one. He refused to be anywhere near you, for he feared that he wouldn't have the strength to stop himself from drinking your blood. It was his number one rule, in bold and italics, that he would not drink from any of the crew. It was his affliction that only he would deal with, and he would not put any of his nakama into such a compromising situation. And your own scent was strongest to him, the sweetest and most tantalizing. It was something he could usually enjoy on a full belly, but as the hunger started to claw, it became his most wild desire. And that scared him more than anything. A loss of control, an indulgence taken too far, a slip in his morals, could mean the end of your life.

Sometimes you thought he was taking it too far, being his dramatic self when it came to his love for you, but you took his concerns seriously nonetheless. Well, you typically did. But this current self-inflicted flagellation and punishment was driving you up a wall. You hadn’t shared a bed in four days, and hadn’t even shared the same space in two. If you walked into a room, a guilty look crossed his face as he dashed out. He was impossible to corner, too, both because of his speed and his ability to come up with some task he just needed to do now, and so he had to leave you right now, he was sorry but he loved you so deeply. 

And you knew you should be giving him space. That he had set boundaries and that you should quit pushing them. But as you had assured him previously, again and again, him feeding off of you wouldn’t be a problem. It was something you wanted, actually. He knew better than anyone how gratifying it was to help someone, to serve them. You wanted to be a source of relief for him, in every aspect. He could take all he wanted from you and more, and you’d happily give it. Sanji was always doing everything you asked and everything you didn’t, and you just wanted to do the same. If he wanted to lavish you in his worship, you also wanted to be able to sit at his altar and serve him the same way. So, you had been pushing it a little. 

It wasn’t often that Sanji was low on blood, but on the off chance that it happened, or that his urges were stronger than usual, he’d ask you to cover up. Not that he was trying to control you, he assured. Nor that he disliked the way you dressed, he actually would prefer that you wore less. He rambled on for a bit, when he told you this, complimenting and apologizing, but any exposed skin was just too tempting for him to sink his teeth into, and it was best to take precautions. And so you did, because you would do anything he asked of you. 

But. 

He needed encouragement. Sanji shouldn’t have to suffer like this, and so you continued to dress in a way that elongated your neck and exposed your wrists and thighs. You had started this early on, knowing exactly how this time in the doldrums was going to go. And it was causing equal parts satisfaction and pain for Sanji. You relished the way eyes ravished you, but that enjoyment paled in comparison to the suffering it caused him. You could see the pain clear on his face, the way he had to constantly restrain himself, and it made you hate yourself a little. It was in an effort to make him break, to take what he needed from you. But he was just so strong, it was one of those things you deeply admired about him, and his restraint was as tough as steel. 

And it was on the morning of his second day of no blood that you had really crossed the line. 

You were sitting at the little counter that looked into the kitchen, and watched him as he cooked breakfast. He wasn’t looking all too bad, but he did seem strained, and kept glancing at all of your purposely exposed skin. You’d blown him a kiss, causing him to laugh and swoon and send one right back. 

“You’re beautiful,” you said. 

Per usual, he was quick to make it about you again. “Oh, mon cœur, it’s nothing compared to yours.” 

You smiled, soft and sweet, and he continued his cooking. It was peaceful, the kitchen empty except for you two. The quiet was interrupted by the sizzling from the pans on the stove and the chopping of vegetables. You watched his pretty hands cutting away, admiring the speed and skill of his knife work. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing off his forearms. A towel was draped over his shoulder, a cigarette dangled from his lips, and his bangs covered his face as he leaned over his work. It was one of your favorite sights, one you conjured up often, and it made your heart ache and fill with need. You hopped down, deftly swerved around the counter, and stopped right before him. He looked up, a question on his face and awaiting  your request. You brought your hands to his face and brushed back his bangs so you could see all of his face. You stared, your gaze getting lost in his features. You’d suggested before that he wear a headband, less for the practicality and more for your own pleasures, but he refused. It just wasn’t fair of him to hide such a pretty face.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to each swirl in his brows, and stopped on his mouth, letting it linger on and on. Sanji kissed right back, pressing a hand to your hip and bringing you closer. You darted your tongue into his mouth and dragged it across his teeth, making sure to lick his fangs and feel their points as you went. He pulled back, his eyes half lidded, and you realized his other hand had been gripping yours, rubbing his thumb into your palm. He brought it to his face and pressed his nose to your inner wrist, taking a deep inhale. He let out a shaky breath, and inhaled again. Sanji then kissed it, feather light, again and again. He pressed his lips harder and harder as he went, until it became open mouthed kisses. Small sounds were escaping his mouth, and when his tongue came out and dragged along your skin, clearly without his permission, he whined. Your mouth had fallen open, and you watched all starry eyed as he made out with your wrist. For a moment you felt a sharp point dig into your skin, and all of a sudden Sanji was on the other side of the kitchen, his face horror stricken. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry. I don't know what… I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

“No, no,” you said, shushing him. “It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.” You started toward him, hands outstretched and desperate to hold him, comfort him. “I think you should, Sanji. You need to feed.” 

“Absolutely not.” He’d hardened his voice, the best he could when it came to you. 

You were in front of him again, hands rubbing his shoulders. “Sanji, I’m serious. You can’t be doing this to yourself.” You moved your hands to cradle his face, but he snapped his head away, clearly afraid to let himself anywhere near your wrists. Quickly, he grabbed your hips and turned you around, ushering you out. 

“I’m sorry, my love, and I do love you, so, so deeply. But I cannot trust myself around you, not until I’ve eaten,” he said.

“No, I know. I understand. But it’s okay, Sanji. I forgive you,” you replied, utterly crestfallen. 

As soon as you crossed the doorway, he said, “Breakfast will be ready soon. Make sure you come in with the rest, and not alone.” He kissed you once more on the mouth, unable to resist the urge but keeping it chaste, and then disappeared back into the kitchen. 

And that was that. Sanji had kept his promise, and was never alone with you, nor too near you at all. He was so clearly miserable because of his decisions. When you did see him, you saw the bags weighing heavy under his eyes, and the way the misery took the light out of his eyes. Your own chest constantly ached, and sleep wasn’t coming easy without his body in your arms. You’d be damned if you weren’t going to do something about it.

So now you stood in the kitchen, a wine glass under your dripping arm. You’d sliced a clean line in your wrist and were draining it so that Sanji could drink it. He’d be upset, but the blood was already out, and it’d be a waste not to drink it. Plus, putting it into a glass like this would limit his intake. He couldn’t overstep like he feared. You felt like this move to be a pretty perfect solution. Except it was taking forever. You squeezed the wound, trying to encourage the blood to come pouring out. It was a messy affair, and you felt guilt at each drop that missed and hit the counter. You knew that from wherever Sanji was, he could smell your blood, and was writhing from the need of it but refused to come for it. It was to your benefit that he wouldn’t come to stop you, but the longer it took, the worse you felt. You were prolonging his torture. You grabbed the knife you use—one of your own, as you’d never sully one of Sanji’s precious knives like that—and opened your wound farther. You hissed at the pain, but remembering that you were doing this for Sanji made it easier and all the more worth it. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for him. 

When the wine glass was half full, you stopped and wrapped your arm, hoping that it was a reasonable and satisfying amount. You snatched up the blood and rushed to give it to Sanji, determined. You swung the kitchen door open and scanned the ship. Zoro caught your eye first, and you made your way over to him. 

“Where’s Sanji?” you asked once you reached him. 

He gestured to the men’s quarters with a nod of his head, and a grunt from his mouth. At the sight in your hand, though, he paused. “Is that… blood?”

“Yes. Thank you, Zoro.” You beelined to the room. 

The door smacked the opposite wall as you slammed it open. It was just Sanji in the room, and he jumped from his curled position from the far corner. The gauntness of his face horrified you. His eyes were huge, immediately knowing what was in the wine glass. He knew it was yours, too, even without looking at your wrapped arm, because it was overwhelmingly your scent. 

“Y/n,” he said, voice deep and pained. 

You held it out farther for him to grab. “Drink.”

Sanji’s voice rose in pitch, almost near to tears, “I can’t–”

“Drink.” There was no room for his nonsense. 

He couldn’t fight it any longer, and the glass was snatched from your hand, faster than you could blink. Sanji downed the glass, moaning both in ecstasy and disappointment once it was empty. His pupils were blown wide, taking over almost all of the blue of his eyes. He dropped to his knees and crawled to you, gripping your arm once he was there and pressed the wound to his cheek. He was shaking his head as he did it, but he moaned out your name again. His need for you and his need to keep to his moral code were warring with each other, and it was clearly killing him. 

You dropped down to your knees as well, heart aching at the sight of him, and tugged the wrapping off. You pressed the wound closer to his mouth and cupped his other cheek. “It’s okay, baby. Go ahead.”Sanji’s eyebrows furrowed and his nose wrinkled. His fangs bit down into his red stained bottom lip and he whimpered. He shook his head once. You brought it closer to his mouth, letting a little of the blood smear onto his lips. “I trust you, Sanji. Please, I can’t stand to see you like this. Please.”

His resolve crumbled and his mouth latched on. He whined and whimpered, and a few tears escaped his tight shut eyes. You brushed your fingers across his face and ran them through his hair, trying to soothe him. “There you go, my baby,” you cooed. “Isn’t that nice? You’re always such a good boy, and you deserve such a good gift.” 

He moaned into your arm, and it slowly turned back into a whine. You could feel the guilt and shame rolling off of him. You kissed all over what you could access of his face, continuing to tell him all the ways he was a good boy and why he deserved to have a treat. His own thoughts were vile. The taste of your blood was almost sending him into a frenzy, he couldn’t believe that someone could taste so good. But of course you did. You were the brightness on his darkest days. The kindness you bestowed upon him by just letting yourself be near him was pure sweetness, so of course you tasted this divine. He couldn’t believe you were letting  a disgusting, wretched man such as himself take this nectar from you. But, oh, he could not stop. He did not deserve such a gift, but he was a selfish and starved man, and he’d take whatever you would willingly give, no matter how little, and cherish it deeply.

It was when you started to feel a little light headed that you encouraged him to stop. He pulled away, clearly wanting to keep going, but he had always been a strong man, and with a full stomach, was able to keep control.

“See?” you said. “That went well. You did so good, and don’t you feel so much better?”

He nodded his head and pressed it further into your hand that was still holding his cheek. He looked so sad, like a kicked puppy. Even his bottom lip was jutting out just a little in a pout. You couldn’t resist, and kissed him, not caring for the blood that was smeared all across his lower face. He kissed back, unable to not give you anything you wanted, and was grateful that you still wanted to kiss him after such a disgusting display. But all it did was make your heart grow all the fonder for him. After, he ducked his head and tucked it into the crook of your neck, and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re more than I could ever deserve, and I’m sorry–” 

“Ah,” you cut him off. “No apologies. There is nothing you should be apologizing for.” 

“But–”

“Nothing. I love you, and I was happy to do it. And I’m happy to do it again whenever you need.”

Sanji wasn’t all that convinced, but he nodded anyway, warmth filling him from your words. 

“Now,” you said, words soft again. “Will you hold me tonight?”

You felt his smile spread across your skin. “Of course, my love.” He kissed your neck. “Of course.” 

[leighsartworks216]

Claw Machines

Sylus x gn!Reader & MC

Raven deserves the world and more and I need to heal their inner child so so bad and who better to help than MC?

Warnings: fluff, silly, growing friendship, arcades, healing their inner child, kissing, swearing, banter

Word Count: 1,678

Main Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Third Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus was 'busy', but you're dead certain that was just an excuse to nudge you into bonding with Miss Hunter. When she'd called to invite him out, you saw the smirk that curled his lips. You'd glared at him when he said you'd take his spot. You'd even been tempted to ditch her, but you couldn't in the end, knowing how much she means to him.

The claw moves around the box, following the movements of the little joystick. She looks as if she's facing down a Wanderer, not a stuffed koala with a teddy bear. Her tongue pokes out of her mouth, head swivels to the sides of the box to make sure she's lined up properly, fingers tapping impatiently on the machine before she hits the button. The claw descends. Closes. And as it rises, the koala is stuck in its grasp.

"Yes!" Miss Hunter laughs giddily as she bends down and grabs her prize from the chute. She squishes its face, eyes shining brilliantly with glee. Suddenly, she turns to you. "Have you ever played before?"

You shake your head, appearing quite bored with the whole thing.

"Do you want to try it? I can give you some pointers!"

A relentlessly stubborn part of you wants to refuse. Stand around like her own personal bodyguard while she travels from machine to machine with tokens purchased with Sylus's card and a bag full of toys.

But... you're also curious. You'd peered through shop windows and seen kids with toys your whole childhood, without any hope of having one to call your own. You'd made peace with that a long time ago, aided in the fact you now have plenty of money to live comfortably, though you keep that money close to your chest. Now Miss Hunter's barging through that peace, eyes shining and full of childish energy. And you give in.

You step up hesitantly to the controls. She squeals in glee and stands right beside you, nearly leaning on your arm. "Okay, this is the joystick! You use it to move the claw around. And then when you're lined up with something, you push this button and it'll try grabbing it."

You quirk an eyebrow at her. She smiles deviously. "It's a lot harder than it looks, trust me."

You should have listened to her. She makes it look so easy; you have to wonder if she's somehow using her Evol to cheat. No matter what target you went for, it always slipped through. Sometimes in the most ridiculous ways - bouncing off the edge of the plastic surrounding the chute or flipping off into an unreachable corner. You're not usually one to give up on a challenge, but this is getting ridiculous.

Miss Hunter smiles apologetically at you after your target falls over, just out of reach of the claw. "Maybe this machine isn't calibrated well," she suggests, but it's a half-baked excuse. "Let's try another one."

So you do.

And another.

... And another.

It's agony. She'll take over, pleading with big round eyes and a pout that works like a charm on Sylus to play a round, and get a plushie on her first try. Her bag is almost overflowing. She considers asking for a second one, but she looks sorry when she says so out loud.

Another machine catches her eye and she dashes over like a child. You watch her go.

It's... confusing, contradictory, to see someone like her be so carefree and childish. Her life has not been a cakewalk, and she's been through things normal people would never recover from. Yet here she is, squealing and giggling with delight, while you stand amid the flashing lights and chiming bells, arms crossed and frowning.

You hate to think you could ever possibly be jealous of her. Jealousy was unnecessary when you had all the means to get what you wanted so easily. Still, it's difficult not to envy in some ways the ease with which she enjoys such simple things.

You sigh. You damn Sylus for having you take his place on this little playdate with Miss Hunter. Damn the machines and their stupid claws. Damn all the plushies that seem to hate you.

The arcade is relatively small. When you begin walking around the various machines, it's easy to keep an eye on her. After all, if something happened to her here, it would be your fault. And you don't exactly want a repeat of last time.

It's by pure chance you happen to glance over. Pure random chance that your eyes slipped onto a series of miniature claw machines, stacked 3-on-3 in an alley between the bigger machines. You would not have stopped if you hadn't then done a double-take to make sure you saw what you thought you saw. And sure enough, as you step up to the small machines, you see in one a tiny keychain in the shape of a crow.

It's adorable. Big eyes that take up half its body stare longingly out at the arcade, half-closed with an air of disinterest. A little white ruff wraps all around its body. Two little feet with three toes each stick out the bottom.

You glance around to find Miss Hunter. She's moved on to the Balance machines, where her skilled fingers shift the two-pronged claw to nudge the box off the poles. An employee already stands there, waiting to re-setup the machine, as they chat with familiarity. She seems safe enough...

After a moment of watching to make sure the employee doesn't try anything, you reach into your pocket and pull out the tokens she gave you earlier. You insert one, and a small LED display counts down a timer.

The joystick is tiny in your hand - you can only imagine how it would fit in Sylus's. You shift it over top the crow. After spending however long failing on the other machines, you don't have much hope, especially when these are designed to give the impression of being easier so people will want to try them even more. You push the tiny button, and the claw lowers. The crow is picked up, shifting slightly in its loose hold. It's carried to the chute...

A tiny jingle plays, similar to the one that follows Miss Hunter around every machine.

You... you did it?

You hesitate before opening the little hatch, as though you just imagined all of that and you're going to be woefully out of luck when you reach in to find it empty. But no. You reach in and your fingers touch soft fur. You pull it out. There he is - your very own tiny crow plush.

The crow's big eyes seem to stare up at you, unimpressed. But your mind says he's happy, free from his cramped little prison.

Footsteps approach and you're immediately back on alert. You'd been smiling without even realizing it, but that is wiped away for neutrality. Miss Hunter doesn't seem to notice, gushing over the prize in your hand.

"Awe, you won that! It's so cute!" She pokes its cheek with her finger, giggling. "I've never been able to win anything from these machines. How many tries did it take you?"

Something flutters in your chest. A feeling you'd only felt when Sylus praised you - pride. You really managed to do something she couldn't? It sounded impossible after seeing her win over and over again without fail.

You hold up a finger. She gapes at you.

"What? It only took you one try?!" She looks at the machines, and all the cute mini plushies within. She frowns, considering something, before pulling out a handful of tokens. "Maybe they made these easier, somehow? Let me try."

-

"Have fun?"

You dangle the toy in front of Mephisto. He stands in your lap, playfully pecking and nipping at it. He's careful not to damage or tear it - he's always such a good bird.

Sylus wraps his arms around you from behind the couch. His chin rests on your shoulder, large hands massaging your sides. He kisses your cheek. "You're smiling."

Your first instinct is to turn away, but he stops you. Fingers grab your chin and turn you to face him instead. Crimson eyes, smug and teasing, meet yours.

You sigh. You have to admit that it was fun, even if you'd love to be stubborn and say it wasn't. Maybe if you hadn't won anything, you wouldn't have to pretend you hated it. Unfortunately, the toy that dangles from your finger is evidence to the contrary.

"She's a menace on those machines," you say, voice low, like it's a secret.

He chuckles. "How many did she get?"

"I lost count."

You glance back at Mephisto and shift the toy to rest in your palm. He grabs it in his beak, cawing around the object in his mouth, and flits off to go put it with his little hoard. Or, well, you thought he would. Instead, he flaps off to his perch and, using his foot and beak together, manages to hang it by its chain on the end of it. They look like a matching set as he fluffs up and settles down to rest

Sylus kisses the corner of your smiling mouth. You feel exposed. How is it possible for something so small to catch your emotions off guard?

"I'm glad you had fun," he whispers sincerely. "If you'd like, we can go together sometime."

"We wouldn't win anything," you tease. You rub your nose against his, drawing out a soft look of love from his eyes.

He shrugs. "Then we'll steal one."

"How criminal. This may be your most dastardly scheme yet."

"Mhm. And I'll need my best man on the job to help me pull it off." He closes the small gap to kiss you. His thumb rubs over the ball of your chin. Another kiss and his hand shifts to your jaw. Another, then to your neck. He draws you in, over and over, languidly savoring you, like you have all the time in the world.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one

[meowrimo]

STARRY NIGHT — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro — actor au.

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : an inside look on the premiere of kuroo tetsuro’s big night !

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : fluff, little suggestive in one spot — WC : 1.3k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : wrote this at work because i was so excited about going to the movies so apologies for any typos ! enjoy ! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

tonight was the big night. the nonstop flashing cameras would be on him, the supportive fans screaming his name, everything was finally going to be set into place. after devoting years of his life to this series, they are finally doing another installment — arguably one of the biggest in his career.

kuroo never thought he’d love the limelight as much as he does. but maybe that’s because with all the newfound exposure and fame, he met you. 

the one that’s stayed by his side since the beginning, the one that kept him grounded, the one that holds his heart in the palm of your hand. the love of his life.

the two of you were in separate rooms getting ready, both under the specialized care of your respective teams. kuroo’s make-up artists were doing finishing touches and he was eager to see you, his leg bouncing in anticipation. 

you had been teasing him about this dress all week, claiming it was one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever worn. he had to see it — had to see you. the moment they were done, he was hopping out of his chair and headed to your room.

kuroo stood in the doorway as he watched you spin around in the mirror, taking in all of your beautiful glory. the rest of your team filtered out of the room, giving kuroo a congratulatory pat on the shoulder as they passed him but his eyes never left you.

the dress you wore was quite literally made for you. like an angel, you were glowing as your dress was dipped in sin. the red satin wrapped around your curves in ways that had kuroo almost envying the fabric.

“wow.” he let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding onto. the sound of his voice caught your attention, quickly spinning around to see him dazed in the doorway. “you look amazing, sweetheart.”

in three easy steps, he’s in front of you, stars filling his eyes as he drinks you in. there was never a moment kuroo didn’t think you were beautiful but this was unparalleled. to see you all dolled up for his big night tugged at his heart, his fingers moving on their own accord as they find purchase in your waist, pulling you closer.

“thank you tetsu.” you eyes shine with pride. “i’ve got to look good for your big night, right?”

“you always look good.” he dips down and gently kisses you on the cheek, careful not to smudge any of your make up. the distinct taste of setting spray lands on his lips and he tries not to pout at the lack of your own. “well? you going to compliment me now or what?”

“i was getting there.” you laugh, gently smoothing over a piece of his stubborn hair before your eyes trail along his body. he almost shivered under your thoughtful gaze. “tetsu, you look radiant. always so, so handsome. especially when you dress up like this.”

“alright, alright. no need to butter me up, i’m already yours.” kuroo tried to laugh it off as he wrapped his arms back around you but the blush on his cheeks spoke his true feelings. kuroo pressed his face into the crook of your shoulder and softly murmured across your skin. “thank you.”

with a gentle squeeze and one last overzealous look, he untangled himself and gently took your hand to give it a delicate kiss before leading you off to the limo.

from the hotel to the premiere, it was less than a 10 minute drive. the limo had plenty of room yet the two of you sat so closely to each other you’d think there were a thousand other invisible people squished in here.

the black leather interior felt cool to the touch, a bottle of champagne wedged itself in an ice bucket at the mini bar. it felt a little premature to pop it open right now, but maybe it would help ease his gnawing nerves. as if you sensed his distress, you squeezed his hand.

“you nervous?” you asked, your voice sweeter than honey. the limo was a small sanctuary, the calm before the storm. he smooths his thumb over the back of your hand.

“maybe a little.” kuroo just shrugged, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. he was always good at playing them off behind a well adjusted smirk but when he was around just you — it was hard to keep up any sort of facade. “yeah.”

“me too.” you whisper. kuroo looked at you in surprise. to be honest, he was expecting you to say something more reassuring, tell him everything will work out in the way he knows it will. but instead, you sat right next to him in his pool of nerves, gently holding his hand as you faced the premiere together.

“why’s that?”

“it’s your big night.” your eyes flit to his, mischief dancing in your irises. “after tonight, the rest of the world is going to want you for themselves now. i’ve got to be ready for anything.”

“yeah, you’re right. i am pretty irresistible.” kuroo smirks, feeling the nerves melt down along his back as he indulges in his favorite pastime — teasing you. he goes to open his mouth again but it’s cut off with a yelp as you pinch his arm. “hey! what was that for?”

“irresistible my ass.” you huff, a small pout resting on your perfectly red-coated lips. what he would give to kiss it off of you right now, devour you whole and smear that lipstick right off of your pretty little face. or maybe he’d be lucky enough for you to get on your knees before him and — “more like insufferable.”

“ouch.” the smirk never leaves his face, it only grows wider the more yours purses. “you know, you’re not allowed to bully me on my big night.” 

“well, you started it.” you childishly fire back, trying to hold back a laugh but failing wildly. kuroo narrows his amber eyes at you, assessing as your clear your throat, ridding yourself of any more loose giggles. 

“you want me to finish it too?” his other hand comes up to your face, tucking a finger under your chin so your attention was fully on him. kuroo’s voice was unnervingly soft, with a token of condescension that breathed out of him a little too easily. “because i can.”

ever so gently, kuroo’s lips brush against yours with barely any pressure as if the only purpose was to steal the air out of your lungs and store it neatly in his own. it was a true test of willpower on his part, the urge to press harder and kiss you properly was too great. but it would have to wait.

reluctantly, he pulls away as the car begins to slow to a stop.

“we’re here.” you breathe out, a small smile spreading across your lips. “you’re going to be amazing tetsu, you’ve always been a star in my eyes.”

“you’re too good to me.” he smiles back, gently caressing your cheek before pulling away. “that’s why i’ll always be yours. the rest of the world will just have to deal with it.”

the car door swung open, bodyguards standing outside of the little oasis in the limo. the lights were already blinding, the people cheering for kuroo to come out and pose for a picture. he stretches his long limbs out of the car and rises with a hand raised in greeting.

kuroo gave the paparazzi a quick grin before he spun on his heel, holding his hand out for you to grab — a much more genuine smile on his face.

“you ready?” he whispers as you get out of the car, making sure your dress was laying properly. kuroos hand moves from yours and to the small of your back, gently bringing you along with him to the night that will forever define his career. 

the night his performance stole hearts and inspired tears in peoples eyes with all the magic he carried with him wherever he went. this was truly only the beginning for him — greatness was sure to follow.

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

[vintagedebutante]

Lessons in Love

A JFK x Reader Fanfiction- 18+

Word Count- 1.1k+

Further Info: It’s your wedding night, innocent reader, um… you jack Jack off

A/N: Thank you so much for your patience! This has to be my most requested prompt of all time! Shoutout to @lancerslover, this is partially a belated Christmas gift! I hope you all enjoy~ 💍

You weren’t sure whether the stubborn lump in your throat was fear or excitement. Mere moments ago, you were convinced the two glasses of champagne you drank after dinner would have squandered this feeling, even slightly. This had been your mother’s advice, along with a less-than-helpful “try to relax.” It felt wrong. After years of a life of celibacy, debutante balls and white dresses, upholding and almost idolizing the virtue of purity, you must now forget everything you learned in an instant and fulfill your new duty as a wife. you couldn’t help but wonder if your mother struggled similarly on her wedding night years ago.

Your shared suite on the top floor of your family’s ancestral New England estate was washed in a hazy shade of tangerine by the antique lamp on your new husband’s nightstand. You thought dimming the other lights might bring you some semblance of relaxation to no avail. The whole atmosphere felt tense—the incessant ticking of an antique clock somewhere in the room, the stiff floral cotton sheets, even the usual nighttime insects sounded… off. You sat on the edge of the still-made Queen sized bed, fiddling with the lace trim of the sheer white nightgown your husband had purchased for this occasion, awaiting his presence with bated breath. Before you could allow yourself to ruminate further, your thoughts were interrupted by the pounding of footsteps outside. You watched as the brass doorknob turned.

Your husband, Senator John F. Kennedy, who you affectionately called “Jack,” quietly emerged from the dark hallway, an eager grin plastered on his broad, lightly freckled face. As a modest woman, he had never had the pleasure of seeing you previously in something so… revealing. You flushed a shade of beet red as you cupped your hot cheeks in your hands, an action that caused the man standing before you to chuckle, shake his head and tsk.

“Now, now, you don’t have to worry, Sweetheart. I’ll go easy on you,” he quipped through his signature smirk, attempting to lighten the mood. Words could only do so much. You smiled in return, but, you could feel your heart like a hummingbird trapped in your chest.

Though Jack was aware of your lack of experience, you couldn’t help but worry about disappointing him. From his many anecdotes, you were keenly aware that your husband was quite the ladies’ man, a seasoned lover rivaled by the likes of Casanova. You, on the other hand, knew the basics of sex from biology class years ago and your friends’ late-night conversations, but the intricacies and nuance of the act were a mystery. Nevertheless, Jack began to hastily undress himself.

“Now, I feel it is my responsibility as your husband to uh, go over some things you gotta learn,” he started. Unable to think of the right thing to say in response, you nodded along. Jack’s freshly-pressed pinstriped trousers pooled at his ankles as he released his nearly entirely-erect cock from his undergarments. You could have sworn you let out a small gasp—you had never seen a man in such an intimate state before.

“Would you get on your knees for me?” Jack asked through a wry smile.

Obediently, you assumed the position—the hardwood floor stung under your aching joints. You gazed back up at him as if to silently ask for approval.

“Now, spit in that pretty hand of yours.” Jack commanded.

Unsure, you brought your hand to your face and gently dragged your tongue along your palm. Your husband rewarded you with a gentle pat on the head.

“Good girl.”

You smiled softly as Jack placed your moistened hand to the base of his cock, part of which was surrounded by a swath of auburn hair. It was warm, pulsating, and quite a bit larger than you had expected. Your heartbeat was almost deafening—you never pictured yourself in the middle of such a lewd act. The furthest you had gone with the boys at your college was a deep, passionate kiss, never anything more. Yet, there you were, knees burning on the hardwood floor, touching your husband in the most intimate way… You wanted to hide your maraschino cherry-colored cheeks in your hands, but it was far too late now for that. Once again, you lifted your head, patiently awaiting your next instruction.

“God, you’re so innocent. You really have no clue, don’t you, Sweetheart?”

Jack was correct. Not even the tawdry chapters in your romance novels could have prepared you for the real deal.

“You gotta start slow, just like this…”

Jack slid your hand along the length of his shaft at a snail’s pace, his rough hand entirely enveloping yours. You swore you heard a muffled moan escape his lips.

“‘Atta girl. Keep going, just like that.”

You repeated the stroking motion you had been shown, keeping a close eye on Jack’s pleasured expressions. You couldn’t tell which the man enjoyed more: your touch, or the act of teaching someone with such little knowledge. Either way, he was in heaven.

“Now, try it with both hands.”

Tentatively, you slathered your other hand in a thick layer of saliva before gliding it along the length Jack’s cock, stroking him slowly and indulgently as he had instructed.

“You’re quite the quick learner,” Jack spoke through labored breaths, his freckled cheeks flushed tomato red.

“Can you go a little faster for me,” he asked.

Not entirely sure what he meant by “a little faster,” you picked up the pace, switching from slow, sensuous strokes to a feverish pumping motion.

“Slower, damnit. Jeez, Y/N, you’re killing me,” Jack remarked half-jokingly. Immediately, you corrected yourself, splitting the difference between the two extremes.

“That’s more like it. Good girl.”

You eagerly watched your husband’s face contort as you continued at a steady pace. You were completely transfixed—each time he cussed under his breath, every stifled grunt, the way he bit his lip, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. So this, you thought, is how to please a man.

Without warning, Jack’s breathing became erratic.

“Open your mouth.”

“What?” You whispered, genuinely confused.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

You dropped your jaw obediently as Jack choked out a strained grunt. In a matter of seconds, ropes of white-hot semen erupted from Jack’s pulsating cock, decorating your made-up face in a sticky mess of pleasure. Though some of the salty substance made it to your mouth, he seemed pleased nonetheless.

Jack took a moment to gather himself, panting heavily as he looked around the room for something to clean you off. You stayed perfectly still as he pulled out a handkerchief from the pocket of his pinstriped pants, which rested in a pile on the floor. He wiped your face with a gentleness you did not expect.

“It seems I taught you well, Y/N.”

You nodded coyly in response.

“Though, you still have much more to learn. I’m nowhere near done with you.”

[imrllytootiredforthis]

Pent up~Teaser

pairing: changbin x sexshop employee worker

summary: changbin goes to a sexshop looking for a little something to fill up his lonely nights but gets more than he initially bargained for-not that he's upset about it~

warnings: in teaser-dom reader, sub changbin, obvious praise kink, mentions of masturbation, mentions of sex toys and bdsm, needy changbin. in full fic (of what i know so far): pegging, masturbation, cumplay, exhibitionism, teasing, size kink, etc

a/n: teaser bc i feel like it-and @arlojulien-nightchild-of-hades requested no.10 in my drafts, so here it is-also for binnie's birthday!

Changbin had never been embarrassed about masturbating. 

He knew that he felt pent up from time to time from stress and work and life in general-from what little life he did have. From having to deal with Han and Chan, because while he did love them, putting up with them wasn't the easiest feat, though he'd never tell them that.

His life was busy and things were frustrating, so much so he’d have to restrain himself from doing things he’d actually regret.

Like smashing Chan’s laptop when he stopped listening to all reason, locking himself in his room for days on end without getting any sleep, food or water. His self-destructive tendencies doing shit for the group and even worse for his own mental state.

Or like shouting at Han when he was acting like a brat, stuck in his own ways, which would result in him crying every time. He'd grown a lot in the past few years but he was still stubborn as shit and too sensitive for his own good.

And as Changbin had realized, was that doing any of those things rarely ever helped the situation but only aided in getting his own frustrations out.

So he'd found that the natural way to get rid of those frustrations while also not doing something that he’d regret later on was to blow off steam in other ways. Take things into his own hands in other words. After all, a busy person such as himself wasn't about to go out and look for a good lay every so often.

Masturbating and self-pleasure wasn't unhealthy by any means, he knew that and he’d never really understood why it was such a stigmatized topic, but that was a whole conversation for another time.

The point was, he'd never felt ashamed to the fact that he needed some alone time every once in a while. 

Not until now. 

Standing in his local sex shop in front of a very large selection on the shelf, trying to decide between two sizes of dildos. He could get the bigger one or the smaller one. Money was no problem and he could buy both if he really wanted, but he'd really rather not have to figure out how to hide not one but two fake dicks in the dorms in which any of his snooping roommates could find at any time plus it felt a little excessive to have two dildos.

But it really wasn't this part that he was ashamed of. He was just dandy with the fact that he was standing here browsing the shelves of dildos, looking for one that he was going to use on himself later tonight. 

Changbin knew exactly what he was signing up for when he walked in here and he wasn't embarrassed about it at all. This wasn't his first time in a sex shop and he could honestly say that they were pretty chill for the most part.

It was his first time in this one though. He'd wanted to switch it up a little-he'd wanted to finally go to the one near his place, accepting the fact that he could potentially run into someone he knew here.

Good thing: There was no one that he knew here.

Bad thing: He couldn't help the pang in his chest, the flicker of something he wasn't quite ready to face inside him realizing that he seemed to be the only customer in the shop who was single. 

Everyone else wandering through here was with a partner. Linked arms while quietly discussing which items they wanted to purchase, stolen glances and small smiles.

Sexual tension was thick in the air in this store today. A lingering look and quick meaningful touches between everyone except for him.

The sting of jealousy he had for that guy currently standing next to him was bitter. Someone who was looking at the same collection Changbin was but he had a partner with him; who teased him, nudging at his side as she tauntingly asked which one he wanted.

He couldn’t help but feel just a bit envious that the guy blushed and his partner coo'd about how cute he looked, brushing a finger down his face before whispering something too quiet for Changbin to hear into his ear.

The fact that he was in a store full of couples looking at things to take care of each other with, while looking for things to use on himself.

Deep down, even though he tried to ignore it...it made him feel, oh what was the word? Lonely? Unwanted? Maybe just the tiniest bit pathetic-and not in the kind of way that he likes.

"If you pick one by the count of three, I'll use it on you in the car~"

He tried not to look at either of them as he grabbed the bigger of the two toys off the shelf, pushing past them and quickly making his way past them to the counter.

Fuck this place.

He dropped it on the counter without looking up.

He was going to go back to the dorms, where thankfully, for once in a blue moon all of his roommates were out. For the whole week actually, they wanted to go on a camping trip but Changbin was too busy for that. He had work, and going to the gym, and…well that was it, but it consumed a lot of time. Time he didn’t have to sleep on the hard ground on top of rocks and sticks and bugs in the forest. 

He normally liked camping and he felt bad to turn them down but he knew he needed this. A bit of alone time. There was no way he was going to give up the chance at being alone for a whole week while Chan, Hyunjin and Han were gone.

He was honestly just surprised that Hyunjin agreed to go with them.

Tonight he was going to forget all about this. About the want to be pounded by someone. A person. And not just his own hand and a toy. He was going to forget about the want to be teased and touched and loved by someone else. He was going to forget about all of that, throw on some porn and try out his new toy with the handy bottle of lube hidden in his nightstand.

"Cash or card?"

He rifles through his wallet for a few bills, "uh, cash please." he mutters, putting them in the counter as he counts, making sure he he’d taken out the right amount.

This would all be but a distant haze later tonight in his sex-addled brain. Nothing but a dream when he'd make himself cum over and over again to ensure he'd forget this.

“Don’t be rude. Look at me when you say that."

Changbin’s whole body froze, unmoving. He didn't even need look up to feel eyes burning into his skin.

"Don't make me repeat myself." He didn't know why he listened. It was just something. Something about the voice, firm in a way that he craved. Something coaxing and calming, rather than screaming at him to obey instead guiding him to it, making him want to listen.

Finally, his eyes managed to flick upward to the face the person talking to him. 

You smile pleasantly, so familiar yet unlike to the way you'd just spoken to him, in a way that makes him feel warm. You raise an eyebrow, gesturing for him to go on, the expression making his face heat up for some reason. "Good boy. And your payment?"

Wha-

What did you just say?

Did you just-?

He tries to recollect himself. Hopefully fix his jumbled thoughts before he embarrasses himself further, tries to find his voice, "I, uh..." all while you sit there, looking nothing but amused at this entire very un-amusing situation.

You hold back a laugh, eyes alight with mirth. "You paying with cash pretty boy?"

His mouth opens, then closes before he works himself up to a nod and manages to push the money across the counter to you.

What the hell was going on with him?

This time, you do laugh, throwing your head back like he had said something legitimately funny and not stumbled over his words like an idiot. 

"Sorry-sorry, I don't mean to laugh!" you don't sound very sorry, with the way that small giggles make way through the words. He can't help the way butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

You calm down and take the cash, putting it in the till, "Bag?" he still can't seem to bring himself to speak so he only nods. You notice but take effort not to start up again, putting the item into an inconspicuous bag and giving him his change. 

He pockets it, and that's it. 

He'll turn around and walk out of the store and never show his face in this place again, too mortified to see the very attractive sex shop employee that turned him on by just telling him to look at them. 

Too lonely to come to this weirdly couple-populated sex shop too.

God, he really needed to get laid. 

Maybe it was really time to give in and download one of those dating apps that Han kept suggesting. 

He wouldn't start anything serious. He didn't have time for that as mentioned before. He'd do it for nothing more than to meet a one night stand that would fuck his brains out and leave the very next morning. He was sure that wasn’t what Han intended when he’d suggested it, but it really wasn’t any of Han's business either way.

Changbin picked up the bag.

"What's your name pretty boy?"

You rest your chin in your palm, slouching against the counter and looking at him. You're taller than him normally but you’re the slightest bit shorter than him now and it makes him feel both nervous and excited.

"...Changbin."

"Hello Changbin, I'm Y/N." You reach a hand out to shake but he ignores it, preferring for you not to know exactly how sweaty his hands are at this very moment.

He doesn't know what to say next. Doesn't know what you were trying to do by asking for his name and introducing yourself. 

But he doesn't have to wait before you're glancing back down toward the bag that burns in his hand. "Ever used one before?"

Are you even allowed to ask that? Probably not. But he doesn't care.

"N-no...I, uh, figured that I'd try something new today. My roommates are out for the week.”

Okay and maybe it wasn't the best idea to inform you that he was going to be home alone and using a 9 inch dildo to masturbate tonight but he can't seem to hold his tongue back.

You take your sweet time to reply, letting him sweat for a good few seconds that he counts in his head as a slow smirk crawls across your face. "Adventurous." You now point at it. "and I'm, uh, guessing that you're using it on yourself, right?"

What were you suggesting right now?

“Uh-“

“I mean like, you’re not dating anyone right? Single?”

This must violate some kind of code of conduct about you working here. You should not be able to ask your customers this.

"Yeah." his voice sounds hollow, feels breathless. "Yeah I am."

Why is he even replying?

Meaningfully you scan him, watching him grow twitchy with nervousness. You then pull out a piece of paper from under the counter. Changbin stares at it as you messily scrawl some numbers onto it. When he looks back at you, you're already staring at him. "Listen pretty boy-"

"-Changbin."

Your face contorts into something unrecognizable that makes his stomach churn, in a good or bad way he can't tell, "Changbin. I’ve been working all day and I really don’t have the patience so I'm just gonna come out and say it.” You pause for emphasis, “I'm more than open to using that on you," you linger on the word, even though you don't really have to, you just like seeing the blush grow on his face. "If you don't want to, that's fine, don't feel pressured at all, but you seem to be wanting…someone in your life.” You glance back over to the couple, still looking at the dildos he had been.

Were you watching him? 

His heart pounds in his chest so loud he's afraid that you can hear it. His cheeks are flushed in mortification that he had been that transparent. That a stranger at a sex shop can see how desperately he needs to have his back blown out.

"So what do you say?"

Is it a good idea?...Yeah...probably not. 

“You don’t have to answer me now. Just,” you slide the paper across the counter and despite his best efforts to be in control of his body, Changbin grabs it, pocketing it all while you look smug. “give me a call if you would like to take me up on the offer.”

You glance at something over his shoulder and his eyes follow yours to the clock on the wall. He looks back right as you’re slinking to the back, through a rainbow wall of beaded curtains. “Hank!” You shout. “I’m going on my break, you’re on checkout!”

You glance backward one time, winking at him before disappearing into the back.

a/n: just lmk if you wanna be tagged in the final product, it is going to be the next fic i (hopefully) come out with so yeah

[lillaydee]

The Greener Grass Across the Street

Joel Miller / Reader

The grass is always greener on the other side.

WARNINGS:

Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence (Not Joel), Domestic Life, Domestic Bliss, Husband Joel, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us)

Divider by @saradika

Enjoy my sudden Brain Worm

___

You waited until the truck pulled to a complete stop before getting out, Joel going out and getting the groceries in the back. You unlocked the front door, opening it wide enough for Joel to squeeze in with the six or so bags of groceries that he had always insisted he could manage without a second trip. You went back out to the yard, getting the garden hose and spraying the small herb garden you had, along with the three rose bushes Joel had helped you plant. One day, you thought, one day you will have a garden full of sweet, scented flowers, and maybe, just maybe you wouldn’t feel so inferior living so close to the couple across the street.

**********

The house had been an exact copy of yours at one point, but days after they purchased it slews of contractors and landscape architects camped over, and before long, the house looked like something out of a home and living magazine. The garden was to die for. The most beautiful and expensive flowers you could only dream of decorating every corner, artfully interspersed with imported trees and filler plants and cobbles and coloured pebbles and river stones.

The lady of the house, Lydia, you think her name was, drove up the street and into her driveway in her new imported car. They had been living across the street for maybe two years, and she had changed cars at least twice. You had spoken to her a few times. She was a sweet, quiet lady. A career woman, and the one time you went inside her house to send her a welcome to the neighbourhood pie you had baked she opened the door looking like a Stepford wife, her perfect hair and clothing making you feel like a bag lady. Her house was immaculately furnished, expensive everything, obviously imported. She served you a cup of imported tea in a fine bone China tea set so delicate you were seriously worried your clumsy fingers were going to break them. And then you might actually have to cut off your fingers to replace them.

Her husband, Collin, was an accountant, you believed. He treated his wife like a princess. Heck, you wondered if she ever had to lift a finger if she didn’t feel like it. Any time you spoke to her when she was gardening, her husband would come out and wrap his arms around her body, joining in the conversation, telling her over and over she didn’t need to do the gardening, he could hire someone to do it for her, he didn’t want her hands getting all dirty. She’s so stubborn, he would tell you. He wanted to get her a housekeeper and a gardener to help with the household duties, but she wouldn’t hear it, even insisting on working still even though he begged her to quit. He wanted to spoil her, but she wouldn’t let him, he had told you, giving her smooches all over her cheek.

Seriously she made you feel like a loser. A full time job, an immaculate house, a beautiful garden, and still she managed to look like a porcelain doll at all times, all primped and made up for her beloved husband, who, you had noticed, could never keep his hands off her. You went over to ask for a sprig of Rosemary once, and there was a rack of lamb on the perfectly set table, complete with shiny silver and crystal tableware. You went home to your sad roast chicken feeling as if you’d failed Joel as a wife.

**********

You loved your husband, you really did. He was a good husband, by any measure. He provided for you, leaving the house before the crack of dawn in his old truck to slave away doing heavy labour all day, and came home late in the evening with whatever items you asked him to get for you at the store on his way home. You met him when you were working as a receptionist for a contractor he had laboured for, fell head over heels in love, and married him within a year of meeting. You started trying for a baby straightaway, and when you expressed your wish to be a stay at home mom, he immediately agreed. You thought your dreams of a perfect life was starting to come true.

Two years passed, and you were still out of luck with a baby, and Joel being the sole breadwinner, money was tight. You wanted to go back to work, but he coaxed you into staying at home a little while longer. Sometimes it just takes a while for couples to conceive. So you stayed at home.

The problem then was you began to feel bad for him. He was working himself to the bones to provide for you and your future children. And you kept feeling as if you were not doing enough for him. You knew money was tight, so you kept quiet about wanting certain things around the house. A kitchen island, planters in the garden, an armoire for the bedroom. You would love to go dancing every now and again, go out for dinner every once in a while, maybe a vacation or two. But all that cost money, and the two of you simply couldn’t afford it. So you kept quiet.

All you wanted was for Joel to come home to a perfect wife for the perfect husband that he was, but you felt as if you were lacking.  The house was never clean enough, the garden never beautiful enough, the food never delicious enough. You had to plan your mediocre meals down to a tee to make sure your bills could be paid, money could be saved for rainy days, so no fancy China or silvers and crystals for your household. Not even a rack of lamb.

He gave you some money every week to get something for yourself if you so wished, but you never did. You saved it all up so you could get him something nice. You bought him a nice pair of boots for Christmas, and he chastised you for spending so much money on him. He didn’t have much, but he gave you everything he could. He didn’t want anything for himself. He just wanted you to be happy.

Still, you felt like you were not good enough for him.

**********

It had started as you feeling like you were not good enough for your husband. Collin and Lydia’s arrival made that feeling stronger. You wanted to be like Lydia. The perfect woman. One who was independent, a career woman who could still do it all, be the perfect wife for her husband.

But slowly, it turned into you wanting to have a Collin for a husband.

You couldn’t help but compare the man to Joel.

Collin was a husband who was open to showing affection in public, hands never off his beautiful wife, never shy about showing the world how much he was infatuated with her. Joel was a stoic man to the world, but was insatiable for you behind closed doors, and occasionally, the comfort of his truck. You could only imagine what Collin would be like in the privacy of their bedroom.

Collin was a husband who could shower his wife with lavish vacations and fine dining. Joel took you to the beach and tacos and burgers on the weekends.

Collin was a husband who would take his wife dancing every now and again. Joel slow-danced to Sinatra with you in the comfort of your living room.

Collin came home from work with beautiful flowers for his wife. Joel came home with an empty lunchbox and bread and eggs and milk from the store.

Collin came home on Valentine’s Day with expensive jewellery for his wife. Joel came home on Valentine’s Day with home made carvings and a card he made himself.

You hated that you were beginning to feel this way. You hated that you were seeing your husband in such a negative light. The man who had provided for you as best as he could. You envied Lydia for having it all. How you wished you had her life.

And then one day, you found out you were pregnant. Joel held you tight, kissed you all over, happy tears in his eyes. He made love to you again and again that night, promising you that he would work hard to give you and the baby a better life, he will give you everything you had ever wanted. Because you had given him everything he had ever wanted. A family.

Just like that, your envy for the life in the house across the street disappeared. You were happy. You had everything you needed right here, you thought. The next day, while he was at work, you went outside to the herb garden to get some rosemary from the planter box Joel had built for you, went into the kitchen to prepare your husband’s favourite roast chicken dinner on the kitchen island he had crafted for you. You got the laundry out of the machine, folding and putting them away in the armoire he spent months constructing for you, before going out to your now much fuller garden to cut some roses for the dining table from the bush he had planted for you. You waved at Lydia across the street, looking perfect as usual, and went back inside to wait for your husband to come home.

**********

Across the street that night, Lydia sat in her perfect bathroom, wiping the make up away from her face, all the mask she had on for the world taken off, the black and blue reality of her life reflecting in the mirror. She looked at the expensive bouquet Collin had gotten her, having put them on the marble bathroom counter for the lack of space from the many, many bouquets he had gotten her this week alone, extended her arm to brush the delicate petals before wincing and hissing in pain, her shoulder still hurting from the incident earlier.

She was drawing the curtains for the night when she saw you and Joel dancing in your living room across the street, looking so happy and in love she was frozen on the spot, her heart aching with yearning. Collin had yanked her away from the window so hard her shoulder creaked and snapped, accusing her of lusting after that low class labourer Miller. He immediately apologized when he saw the tears in her eyes, telling her he didn’t mean it, he just loved her so much he went crazy at the thought that she was looking at other men.

Lydia finished wiping her face but waited in the bathroom. She knew that she would be receiving another beautiful bouquet of flowers tomorrow, perhaps even jewellery. This one on the bathroom counter was from the time when she didn’t iron his shirt right two days ago. It was her fault, really, she was far too sleepy when she was ironing, having spent the night before scrubbing the bathroom clean with a toothbrush. Collin hated a dirty bathroom. He had, after all, spent so much money on it.

She waited in the bathroom still, even after she heard Collin’s snores. She needed to sleep soon, she had a long drive the next day. The money she had set aside was enough now. One more sleep and she would be a free woman. But until then, she needed to live this life she did not sign up for and keep up the act.

She couldn’t help but dream for a life like yours. A life filled with simplicity and love. Pure, honest, true love, one that needed no pretence, no hiding from the world. It was exhausting to live the perfect life, one that was only so to the public, but filled with tears behind closed doors.

Lydia finally got up, wincing a little from Collin’s over enthusiastic show of love after that incident earlier, switched the lights to the bathroom off and slipped into their expensive, plush marital bed as quietly as she could, and tried to get some sleep.

Tomorrow would be a fresh start.

As she drifted away, she couldn’t help but pray that her new life would be one like yours.

You, the nice lady with the perfect life across the street.

[anon-sect]

Picture source: internet

Tom loved watching the old tv show Once Upon a Time. He had a celebrity crush on the actor Josh Dallas who played Prince Charming or David Nolan on the show. He had since then watched other shows that the actor stared in. It was one of his fantasies to meet the handsome actor in person one day.

Tom then got a bold idea of a way to be close to the actor in person. It was a risky plan, but he definitely wanted to attempt it. He had purchased a TF Ray phone that was quite expensive. He asked his friend Jonathan to help fulfill his fantasy.

"What, you really want me to do that?" Jonathan asked confused and curious at the same time.

"Yes, I want you to turn me into a pair of shoes. Put me in a box along with the TF Ray phone and mail me to Josh Dallas with this note." Tom explained one more time, holding a handwritten note signed by him.

Jonathan didn't know if his best friend was insane or just went plain mad. "Why would you want to do that? You don't know if the guy would wear you or even release you. You could end up as the actor's property forever. You sure you want to do this?"

Tom pondered Jonathan's questions. It really was a risk, but he had a huge crush on the actor. He really wanted to do this despite all the risk that his best friend mentioned. "I know what risk are involved before I even considered doing this. And I want to do. So, will you help me or not?" He responded, showing his stubborn resolve for a reckless course of action. It was scary not knowing what fate would happen to him, but it also excited him at the same time.

Jonathan saw that no amount of questioning would change his mind. Tom was dead set on going through with it. He decided that he would help him achieve his fantasy even if he was totally against the idea. He hit the flash option on the screen of the TF Ray phone. Tom was instantly reduced to a pair of shoes. He picked him up and wrapped him in wrapping paper. He placed the shoes in a box, along with the TF Ray phone, special written note and the instructions how to use the phone. After the box was sealed. He went to the post office to mail the box off. He felt bad for helping his friend achieve his fantasy, not knowing if he would even see him again. But this was what he wanted.

Tom stayed in darkness for what seemed like forever. He could hear voice as he was being shipped out to his favorite actor. He hoped he would reach him soon.

Josh was handed a sealed box when it was delivered to his house by FedEx. There was no return address on the box. When he opened it, he saw a handwritten note on top. He read it: "Mr. Dallas, I loved watching you in Once Upon a Time and your other shows. You are my favorite actor, and I have wanted to meet you in person one day. But I came up with a better idea. What if I could spend a day with you. So, I had myself changed into a pair of shoes for you to wear using the TF Ray phone provided in the box. Wear me, please. One day on your feet will be what I want. sign Tom."

Josh didn't know if it was a practical joke or actually real. He found the TF Ray phone along with instructions on how to use it. He was shocked it was actually the real deal. He unwrapped the shoes in the box. If the phone was real, then perhaps the shoes he was holding is a former human being begging to be on his. He first thought of the moral implications of actually wearing the shoes. But then he would be the only one to know what his shoes really are. Besides just one day would be fine to fulfill this fan's fantasy, what harm could it do.

Tom was so happy to see Josh Dallas holding him. He hoped the actor would at least speak to him, but he didn't. Instead, the actor did what you would normally do with free shoes. He was put on the actor's feet without a single acknowledgement of his human existence.

Josh thought should he talk to the shoes, but that would look very strange talking to a pair of shoes like they were a person. He just hope this one day on his feet would make the fan happy. Yet, he thought the fan was crazy to want to be worn on his feet.

Once Tom was secured with string arms tied up, he saw that maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to consider. The actor's feet crushed his insole face with force as he walked around his house. It was a constant crushing over and over. The pain was beyond his imagination. Even when the actor was just sitting down, the pressure of his feet pressed against his insole face was bad enough. The wiggling of his toes showed that Josh Dallas's feet owned him completely. As the day went on, the actor had a few errands to run. That meant more walking on him. Being shoes for the actor now didn't seem as much fun as he originally imagined. He started to beg for his humanity back. It was just only over an couple of hours and he was ready to not be shoes anymore.

Josh loved the way the shoes comfort his feet. He had never felt shoes that were this good. Even when doing some errands, each step felt so well cushioned. He pondered the thought of keeping the shoes despite knowing what they are. He decided, that maybe one more day of the shoes would be enough.

The next day, the actor went for his morning run, wearing his new shoes. It was so great running in them. It was like he was running on clouds. His feet didn't feel the stress of normal shoes. He would make a decision after his run when he got back to his house.

Tom was in agony as Josh was enjoying his morning run. The sweaty sock began to saturate his insides. A strong foot odor began to develop. His insole face was being molded by the actor's feet. After the previous day, he already developed a strong foot odor of ownership. It was on supposed to be just a day. He began to wonder if the actor would ever release him. He remembered that Jonathan warned him that placing his fate in the actor's hands might not go as planned.

Once Josh got back home, he took the TF Ray phone. He found the revert to normal setting for his new shoes. He honestly loved his new shoes and saw no reason to lose them. He deleted the revert back to normal setting, making his new shoes permanent. Only he would know that his special shoes are a living person. Everyone else would only see normal shoes, even his family would think so. He took the handwritten note that he had hidden and tore it to tiny pieces before throwing it in the trash. With that all done, he could treat the poor fan as nothing but shoes since he volunteered to be the actor's shoes in the first place.