#because that is an absurd way for my body to respond to stress

[watery-melon-baller]

every day I get home from classes and my entire body aches and my brain gets kinda fuzzy and brainfoggy and i have to lay down for like an hour or two to recover. my friend says this is not in fact normal

[wriokitty]

hidden corners — ft. wriothesley

before you read: female reader ; mature content 18+ ; established relationship ; public sex (except it’s not really sex and you don’t get caught) ; dry humping ; wriothesley cums in his pants <3 ; not proof read

The fortress is a big place. Walking to Wriothesley’s office means you get your step count up—but it also means it takes a good few minutes to get there at all.

You’re patient enough to wait. He, on the other hand, sometimes is not.

“Wrio?” Your head tilts to the side. You’re more than a little surprised to see his serious face as he quickly approaches you while you walk towards his office. You grin, teasing glint in your eyes as you hum, “what? You couldn’t wait to see me—oh!”

He’s dragging you by the hand, pulling you along as he turns corners and walks in the very opposite direction of his office with you following in tow (against your will).

“Where are we going?” You ask, blinking. “Your office isn’t this way.”

“There’s an emergency,” he says quickly. Too quickly. You take a good look at him for a moment before you realize something’s off—his coat. It’s not draped over his back like it usually is, instead worn properly over his upper half and buttoned up completely.

Your eyes narrow in confusion. “You’re wearing your coat?”

“Got cold.”

“But the heating has been on for—”

“Heat’s not working in my office.”

“Why don’t you—”

He lets out a shuddering breath, shaky and almost impatient enough that you simply shut your mouth before stressing him out further. He seems to appreciate it, too, because he doesn’t make anymore extra comments—just makes one last turn, pressing you against a hidden corner behind a wall of pipes and caging you with your back against a cold, hard surface.

“Couldn’t wait,” he breathes. “You were taking too long so I met you halfway”

“What do you mean? Wait for wha—” The buttons of his coat come undone quickly enough that you cut yourself off in shock, watching as he flings off the thick, furry material and lets it drop to the floor. “Wriothesley! The floor is dirty and you drape that thing over me all the time, are you insane—oh.”

Oh.

Your eyes land on the clear reason why he’s been so tensely impatient: a heavy, thick bulge in his pants that’s been covered up until now by the mid-length coat that draped over his torso. He lets out a shaky breath, stepping closer as he presses his face deep into your neck and breathes in your scent.

It seems to only make things worse because he lets out a strangled groan and says hoarsely, “I’ll fucking wash it. Now’s not the time.”

“Wriothesley, we’re in the middle of the—”

It seems today is very keen on forcing all of your sentences to cut off halfway because once again, you can’t finish what you want to say. Not before he grunts and presses his heavy, throbbing erection against your clothed cunt and murmurs, “no, we’re in a hidden corner.”

“We’re right by pipes! Have you never heard the way they carry sound?”

“These don’t lead anywhere important.”

“This is absurd,” you say sternly. He rolls his hips stubbornly, grinding the thick girth of his cock against your heat, separated by fabric but brought together by friction.

“Need you, sweetheart,” he moans lowly, “need you so bad I’m tired of waiting. Please.”

You’re nothing if not a doting girlfriend. A very pliant one, at that—so soft and willing to give into Wriothesley and his whims even when they might land you in compromising positions. (How could you say no when he’s pressed up against you like that, though? How could your mind and body respond with anything except yes when he all but molds his body onto yours and drags himself desperately against your own core? Self control was never an easy task in the first place.)

“A little decorum once in a while would be nice, you know,” you huff—still, your arms go right around his neck like they always do, letting his chest firmly press against yours.

He chuckles, low vibrations that you can feel tickle your ribcage as his nose digs into the skin along the crook of your neck. “I told you,” he murmurs, lips tugging into a crooked, wolfish grin, “we’re hidden. And I’m the duke. I know what goes on in this here fortress—no one will find us.”

Smug is one way to describe him—needy is probably better. Far better. Because the way his hips roll to drag his thick, heavy cock along your cunt is far too impatient to be considered anything else but pure need.

You shudder, head leaning back against the wall as a soft, breathy moan spills from your lips at the way his bulge drags along your clit, the pressure from his cock and the friction of your clothes building a steady ache along your core. You can feel the heat of his confined length, the way it twitches in his pants, the way it leaks with pre cum and dampens his fabric enough to match the wet fabric that clothes your cunt.

“Wr-wrio…” you breathe, voice tapering off into a soft, high pitched whine as he roughly glides against your clit particularly harshly. Your hands search for the familiar fur draped on his shoulders to grip onto—only it’s not there.

It’s on the floor along with the rest of his jacket.

He chuckles roughly, voice low and gruff and a tiny bit labored from the air that doesn’t seem to be in his lungs. His hands reach for your wrists, grabbing them gently before guiding them up to his hair, letting them tangle into the strands as he mumbles lowly, “go ahead and pull, sweetheart. I can take it, yeah?”

Large, scarred hands find your waist, fingers digging into plush skin as he pulls your hips forward, rubbing you along his length while he lets out a raw, throaty groan.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “f-fuck, I just couldn’t wait. Couldn’t…couldn’t wait—you understand, right sweetheart? D-don’t be mad.”

He’s babbling. Voice wavering and sweat clinging to his forehead as he hides into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, where he can breathe in the scent of your perfume and feel his cock swell impossibly harder at the sweetness of your perfume. It’s driving him mad. Borderline throwing him into insanity’s clutches from just the sensation of grinding against you.

It’s nothing like being buried to the hilt inside of you. The wet, warm, tight walls that welcome him in every time, the gummy, soft feel of you wrapping around him and constructing with every thrust. He’d like to spill into you, fuck load after load after load until his mess leaks down your thighs and coats your skin with one more layer of proof that your his.

But he’s not particularly patient enough for that. Not willing to wait until he knows you’re stretched out and dripping enough with slick to take the thick girth of him splitting you open—so instead, he takes this. The feeling of you taking over his senses. The feeling of your heat seeping into his body. The smell of your perfume and sweat invading his nose. The rough, unforgiving sting of your fingers tugging at his hair.

He’s pathetically wrapped around your finger tightly enough that even when he craves for more, anything you give is still enough. Maybe he’s not feeling you, but the feeling of you near him is enough to still satisfy that raging, unforgiving ache that settles between his thighs and goes nowhere. Nowhere.

He’s tried—for long enough before your arrival, he’s tried to ignore the way he grows in his pants. Tightening and straining against crisp fabric that’s not meant to stretch and accommodate his cruel problem. It makes his hands tremble as he signs documents. Makes his mind and thoughts race to memories of you—memories on your face, your voice, your ecstasy.

And he can’t wait.

So he finds you half way along the path to his office, dragging you to a hidden corner where the pipes cover your bodies and the walls muffle your sounds.

Wriothesley is the duke. The fortress is his playground. Whatever he says goes—and if he restricts access to the back east wing before he leaves his office…well, he’s confident no one will come. Not because he doesn’t want anyone to catch him seeking relief in the arms of the only person he can call home, but because anyone seeing, hearing, witnessing the way you break from him alone is sinful.

This meant for him. For his eyes. For his ears. For his cock. You’re meant for him.

“I’m close, baby,” he rasps, “fuck, what’re you doing to me? I’m gonna cum right here in my fucking pants. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you gasp, tugging his hair to pull him away from your neck and press your foreheads together.

He chuckles, breathy pants fanning along your mouth as his lips hover yours while he murmurs, “yeah? That’s what you want?”

“Yes, Wriothesley,” you whimper, “want you to cum and make me cum, too.”

“I think I can do that, sweetheart. Think I can make that happen right now, if that’s what you need.”

And he doesn’t lie. Because his hips give one, two, three rough thrusts against you, rubbing the hard bulge in his pants along your dripping cunt and swollen clit before he stills for a moment and shudders.

Instinctively, your lips both find each other, swallowing shallow gasps and low moans as you both break at the same time. His cock jerks in between his legs, twitching with rope after rope of thick, sticky cum that soils his boxers and leaks through his trousers.

You don’t fare much better. It feels like you’re soaked—your walls gushing around nothing and dripping your slick essence until it leaves a wet patch on your own panties, dampening through them and leaving you to feel the wetness it leaves.

“More, Wrio,” you cry between kisses, rolling your hips in time with his as you ride out the last waves of your pleasure. A string of saliva connects your lips to his as you pull away to speak.

But he chases after you, closing the gap once more before moaning one last deep sound into your mouth as he slumps against you, pecking your lips once and mumbling, “can’t. We’re in the middle of the fortress, remember?”

It’s smug. So cocky for someone who just took you without even properly taking you right here in a dark, cold corner with pipes surrounding you.

You glare at him, watching as he throws you that easy, confident grin before grumbling, “then lead the way to your office, your grace.”

“With my utmost pleasure, my lady,” he laughs, slowly peeling himself off of you, “who knew you could be so impatient?”

You quirk an unamused eyebrow before glancing down at the wet, messy dark spot along his crotch. He follows your gaze, flushing while you point to the coat on the floor and huff, “put that on before someone sees the absolutely sorry state your pants are in, you smug bastard.”

You fix your clothes, smoothing out your appearance before walking out of the dark corner and heading for his office—and he follows soon after as he buttons his coat, trailing after you like an excited, energetically impatient puppy.

I don’t want to talk about what inspired this . Everyone don’t talk to me for one million years thanks 👍

[cholangiocarcinoma]

It started with tummy aches. I was out from work for nearly two weeks, couldn’t eat much but it was manageable.

Had the best birthday ever, 26, and ate well that day.

Couldn’t comfortably drink water the following morning. Went to urgent care. They did some bloodwork.

While waiting for lab results I went to see my boss who is also my father as he needed to talk to me. I’d not been in for work in over two weeks. He has to fire me and feels awful about it, there are tears.

While getting fired I get a call from urgent care. My liver levels are rly high and I need to go to the ER right away.

They do all sorts of checking me out. I’m watching Twilight, pleased as punch. They determine I need to have my gallbladder taken out. I learn what a gallbladder is. Text the bestie “brb getting organ removed”

Surgeon says my gallbladder was a rly weird texture and my bile ducts and everybody around there was real angry and inflamed. It’s assumed this was due to the gallbladder needing to be removed.

Within a week I’m turning yellow and can’t eat hardly anything. My bodily functions are the wrong colors. Back to the ER.

My bile ducts are blocked. They do a procedure and put some tubes in there to keep my ducts open. Removed all the garbage that was blocking things and dilate the narrow parts.

Couple weeks later the same issues. They do the procedure again, an ERCP, and replace the tubes.

The tubes are called stents and they need to be replaced about every three months. I miss my appointment for my stent replacement because I test positive for COVID. I have no symptoms.

Nearly a month later and I’m borderline septic. Jaundiced and unable to eat just like before but it’s worse this time.

The stents shifted and got infected. I’m admitted to the hospital and they replace the stents again. I’m referred to a hospital in Seattle for my next replacement because they can’t make it work for me here in town.

The GI team at Seattle VM is amazing and they solve the problem of the shifting stents on the first try. They biopsy the mass that’s been causing the bulk of the issues in my bile duct blockage.

Hey Lexi, it’s Doctor who solved your problems, yeah, it is cancer. Bile duct cancer, cholangiocarcinoma. In the middle of this conversation my brother calls and demands I move my car from his parking spot. I take my opportunity and throw the cancer news at him before I move my car.

Later that night I go to go buy some weed to find my car was towed. From an unmarked spot at my apartment complex. Unmarked also means “reserved” in the eyes of the apartment complex.

I get tons of tests done to better inform my oncology team on what kind of treatment will work for me. It’s not a genetic thing but I don’t believe that considering my grandfather died of the same exact cancer 9 months prior.

I start chemotherapy two months after diagnosis. It would have been sooner but I got COVID for real so we ofc pushed it back a bit.

My oncologist says we’ll start with 6 months of chemo and then see how things respond. I’m on front line treatment at full dosage, two weeks on, one week off. My infusions take about 5 hours and I stress out about what I’m going to eat every time we’re there.

Chemo knocks me out. I sleep constantly. If I don’t get at least 12 hours of sleep I have no energy. Days four and five of my cycle are the worst where I have fully body pain and intense joint pain. I’m given steroids and they help immensely.

I start to not recover enough btwn infusions to follow the schedule. We reduce the dosage by 20% and I am able to handle it way better.

After a year of being on the cis/gem chemo combo I start to get signs of lasting side effects- my ears ringing and being sensitive to sound, my arms and legs being tingly randomly and “falling asleep” often. We drop cisplatin and I’m only on gemcitabine.

My hair starts to fill back in. My infusions take only a couple hours and I’m recovering quickly. I no longer require absurd amounts of sleep just to stay awake and socialize. One of the nurses recommends the chicken quesadilla from the cafeteria. It’s the most delicious quesadilla I’ve ever had and I proceed to order it every week.

I get my hearing checked out after while to see if it improved. It hadn’t. I continued with gemcitabine for quite some time.

I know exactly what is going on when I need my stents replaced at this point and my body is showing symptoms. This time most symptoms are familiar but I can’t eat much at all, even safe foods. I go to the ER in Seattle, my GI doc tries to do the usual stent swap but can’t. My tumor has grown and is pressing on my stomach causing a blockage. My GI doc couldn’t even get her scope past the block.

My GI team explains the options and I pick the least invasive, reversible option. I get a feeding tube put in, an NJ tube. My oncologist is confident that putting me back on the chemo combo will shrink the tumor and allow me to eat normally again.

The feeding tube meant significantly less stress from all the decisions that go into feeding yourself when you have GI issues. Better nutrition after my infusions when I’m usually too tired to make food or only want specific foods that aren’t that great nutritionally. I’m still able to eat solid foods but certain things are uncomfortable to consume. My appetite is confusing and I quickly can go from feeling fine to being so hungry I’m in immense pain and can’t move.

Everyone is constantly surprised that I’m able to eat food by mouth. My nose and sinuses constantly feel intense pressure when the tube is in my left nostril. I can feel it in my teeth. Ibuprofen doesn’t always help enough with the pain.

When the tube is in my right nostril it’s fine and dandy, I don’t even notice it. It’s lovely.

I resume chemo with cisplatin and gemcitabine but this time I’m getting immunotherapy too! My infusions now take about 6 hours.

After three months of having the feeding tube and being on the escalated chemo treatment I’m able to get the feeding tube out.

I have a reputation for wearing bright color outfits that are 80’s inspired and being super into space. It’s been 3 years of treatment.

The hospital redid their menu. They no longer offer the chicken quesadilla. I am at a loss and must now find a new reliable food option that doesn’t require my bf to walk across downtown Seattle. A bunch of the nurses are equally upset by this change.

My bf now has his learners permit and will be able to drive us every week soon. I met him two months before all my health problems started. He takes care of me more than I could ever ask for.

[mylkimatcha]

The Breast Milk Market is Disgusting

When I became pregnant, I had every intention to be able to feed my baby breast milk. I did all the research, followed everyone's advice, and prepared for birth. When I had my son, for the whole first month I spent hours and hours trying to make it work, but my milk never came in and I was devastated.

Still wanting my child to have breastmilk, I turned to a friend who was over producing and was able to feed him on her donor milk for three months. Then out of nowhere, she started to dry up, and I had to look for donor milk elsewhere.

As a side note, some blood banks are now taking breast milk donations as well so if you are in desperate need and your baby is an NICU baby and very newborn, you should be able to get your milk from a donor bank. Where my baby was healthier, we would have been charged over $5 an oz and that just wasn't sustainable.

Anyway, at first I was able to find a few donors that provided us with a half month or so of milk - but to do this, I had to post in groups, turn alert on, and basically be on FB consistently to catch milk - otherwise I would be snatched up within a small window of time. The same people would claim the milk over and over again to where others in the groups barely got a chance to respond. This was so stressful and for most of these, I had to drive over an hour to pick up the milk.

Then I moved states away and began heavily researching where I could find more donor milk, and I was shocked at everything I found. In short, on Craigslist women are selling gallons of breast milk to body builders marketed as "growth milk" for hundreds of dollars. Women are making jewelry or soap out of their breast milk and selling it for over fifty dollars. I even found on two occasions women selling their milk as a sexual fetish. The frustration I felt could not be named. Here I was, a struggling mother working a full time job and trying to find food for my child, while other women had more than enough to share and were selling it to the highest bidder.

Let me first say, I understand what it takes to make breast milk so I know the effort that goes into pumping and everything so yes, I'm not mad that money is being charged for the milk. I am mad because I am in groups specific for donor milk and every day, the stipulations to get the milk I need for my child are getting higher and higher to where I still haven't been able to get him milk since we moved.

One person posted on FB marketplace said they had 2000 oz of milk in their freezer and to message for pricing. The posting had been up for over a month so I reached out and asked for what I needed only. I was sent a pricing chart and told the milk was "organic" so the price per oz would be $10. For my monthly need, that would have been $5,000 -which is absolutely absurd.

Another person posted that they needed to clean out their freezer and had 700 oz. Again the post had no traction for over a month and no price was listed. I reached out and asked if they were willing to donate any. I was met with absolute rudeness and basically told "I don't want to go back to work so I'm using my milk to make money and if you don't have money, go on then." That person was selling theirs for $20 per 6 oz bag.

I've had people that don't want to drive, people that have all these crazy rules about meeting up, and it has literally become so hard to find the milk to begin with that is willingly being donated that I am feeling like giving up. My son is awful on formula and it makes him sick regardless of how we do it - but the options we have are limited. I came into the community of mothers here with hope everyone would be kind and sharing and yet, all I've found is just another way people have found to divide. I never would have thought finding milk was going to be an issue, but now I know.

[thedarkmistress16]

Here's my contribution to the Yandere!Tony Stark fandom:

No warnings to speak of other than kidnapping and toxic relationships as par the course here. Feel free to change the 'she' pronoun to your liking. Wrote as a segment in a series, but I think it works better as a blurb.

She couldn't remember how long she’s been here, but she surely feels that she’s been dealing with him for a year, at least. Her headaches can attest to that.

“What do you mean I can’t go outside?” He hums, taking a moment to respond like he’s actually thinking, and that the question isn’t as dire as she’s stressing.

“Depends. What do you call ‘going outside’?”

“Away from here. Past the doors and windows.”

“Then of course you can’t go out.” He doesn’t miss a beat, nor does he look at her as she swells with indignance.

“Tony, that’s fucking ridiculous.” He glares at her across the counter.

“You have access to every floor here.” She returns the intensity of his stare, refusing to back down.

“Only the ones you authorized.” She deadpans.

“Including my lab.” He says this like it’s supposed to help his argument and she begins seething.

“And not the ones that let me go out there.” His blatant ignorance of her reality is infuriating enough to make her spell it out for him, yet he’s still not getting it.

“Hey, you should be happy that I’m nice enough to give you balcony rights.” He uses his spoon to point at her, and she’s a thousand times more offended at the offhandedness he’s displaying.

“Oh joy! I get to go on the balcony, where I can feel the sweet breeze of freedom and watch other people on the sidewalk have a wonderful time not being stuck in some jerk’s tower all day!” Her exaggerated mockery as she prances around isn’t appreciated, if the new scowl he dons is anything to go by.

“Watch what you say, honey,” his octave lowers to a warning tone while the utensil is wagged back and forth, “or I’ll take away more than your fresh air privileges.”

She’s tried hard to deal with this- playing nice with him and his restricting rules- she really has. But now she’s at the point where attempting to escape is sounding like a better idea each passing day than trying to convince him to allow more ‘freedoms.’ Why can’t she get through to him?

“Why don’t you trust me, Tony?” A different emotion starts washing over her and she hopes he doesn’t notice it or the very possible crack in her voice. Her body feels shaky and tense all at once.

“It’s not you I don’t trust;” he leisurely takes a sip of his coffee, like this isn’t a serious conversation they’re having.

“Then who, Tony? You can’t possibly mean everyone?” Her mind starts reeling with negative possibilities as he raises an eyebrow at her.

“Of course not everyone.” She visibly relaxes at his short laugh that follows, relieved that he also thinks that’s absurd. “Everyone would include me, and I’m very trustworthy, baby.” For some reason, his eyes twinkle and she’s back to being frustrated again. Why can’t he understand this from her perspective? She has half a mind to bring up his time as a prisoner in Afghanistan before realizing how desperate and stupid that sounds. She wants to make him see reason, not fracture the trust she’s built so far.

Tony seems to read the expression morphing on her face because in the next second, he’s moved around the kitchen block and has her body pulled in close to his. “They’ll try to hurt you baby, just to get to me and I can’t let that happen.” His hands start stroking her bare arms. “You’re safer here, where I can keep an eye on you.” A palm moved to hold her chin up when she lowered it. He keeps their eyes locked as the other hand caresses her cheek in reassurance. “Won’t let you get hurt ‘cause of me. It’s safer this way, sweetheart, for both of us.” His voice had lowered to a whisper, almost like this promise is only for her to hear. The sheer determination in Tony is rattling and she fails to fight off the emotion that pours out of her next.

“How am I supposed to be happy when you’re keeping me from the things I love doing?” His brows draw together at the despair she’s revealing and his thumb brushes a stray tear away. There’s no way he can’t know what she’s talking about because she brought up those details not too long ago with as much passion she could muster at the time.

“It’ll be okay, honey. We’ll make it work.” She’s glad that he’s at least considering it and decides to lean into his touch for now, too mentally exhausted to continue pushing. He brings her closer to him so he can rest his chin on the crown of her head and she nuzzles her nose into his neck, both contemplating their next move in getting what they want out of each other.

[lavishedinjimin]

pissed off/stressed jk at reader who complains about every little thing, handles her roughly

tags: bratty OC, ball gag

~

This day was not for you. The moment you woke up, everything felt off and your mood fluctuated and waved like a flag.

Jungkook tries his best to make you feel better — he really did. He allowed you to rant to him, gave you space, but the whole day was just you complaining about the most absurd things.

And it didn't help that he was stressed, too. He had a long day at work, multiple practices, and he was tired. He didn't tell you this because he thought it would make the situation worse.

Deep inside, Jungkook was slowly getting tired of your attitude.

"Sit down," Jungkook crosses his arms, maintaining a firm stance.

"No! I still need to cook us dinner since you didn't think about ordering from—"

"Sit the fuck down on the bed or else I'm going to do things that you'll regret, Y/n."

"Oh yeah?" You reply without hesitancy, "What are you going to do, huh?

Jungkook's blood boils. He had enough.

With long, quick strides of his feet, Jungkook wraps his muscular arms around your figure. You try to pull away from him, but it was no use for you were much, much weaker.

He presses his body against yours so that he can put his mouth up against your ear. He bites on the shell of your ear, making you wince. His tattoo-covered hand wraps around your neck. He whispers, "You're not the only one in this house that had a bad day, alright?"

There was no time for you to respond because he then throws you on the bed. With wide, surprised eyes, you watch as Jungkook gets the red ball gag from the drawer.

As he straddles your body, with you having no way to escape, he clasps the belt on the back of your head with your mouth on the ball.

"Silence — fucking finally."

Everything went by so fast as if you were swept by the wind. You can see the frustration, the anger, and the annoyance in Jungkook's eyes as he looks down at you like you were his prey. He holds you by your jaw, forcing you to stare up at him.

"I really didn't want to do this, Y/n. But you've left me no choice." You start to kick your legs, attempting another way to remove him from you, but this just enraged him further. He knows you're just trying to fuel his anger. He knows what you're doing to him – and it's not a fun game to play when he's sick of your bratty behavior.

"I'm going to fuck your brains out until you calm the fuck down," Jungkook grunts as he swiftly removes your pants. He didn't think twice before slapping your clothed pussy with such force that made your whole body twitch in pain and pleasure. "Do you want that? My cock deep inside you? Filling you up?"

"Mmhmm," you reply, muffled by the gag.

"But it's too bad that I won't allow you to cum, right?"

He sees your eyes drooping down from his sentence. That's exactly the reaction he wanted from you. Truthfully, Jungkook's roughness came from a mixture of him being stressed from work and your bratty attitude combined. To say that it was all your fault isn't true at all. But he hopes that after this, you'll learn your place.

Jungkook scoffs, "Yeah, that's what girls like you get."

[aro-culture-is]

I hear we can ask questions here and uh... Ive been thinking a lot and have become thoroughly confused about what I'm wanting. Cause one one hand I find myself desperately wanting a close relationship with someone where I can hug and cuddle and say words of endearment but then in reality I'm anti-touch n find touch to be uncomfortable and also can't imagine who I would ever feel comfortable enough with to have such a strong bond as it hasn't happened yet at all and I just jump between these two states and idk what I'm wanting I just know I don't want it to be romantic.

What's worse is I can't tell if any of this is effected by my neurodivergency or abuse which I just escaped (trying to get into therapy for it)

It's been so ething on my mind for years but recently has increased and has been causing a bit of stress and idk what I'm looking for with this but maybe just knowing I'm not the only one struggling with this would be nice...

hi! this ask, in all honesty, feels pretty out of my wheelhouse, but i'll give it my best shot. first of all: i'm so glad and proud for you in escaping abuse. I'm additionally glad and proud of you for trying to get therapy. I can't downplay how important those actions are.

as a neurodivergent individual who's been abused throughout most of our life, i want to start off by saying that the touch stuff is such a mood. I can't say what will help you, but for me, this info has helped. I used to be touch averse because I was touch starved.

Contact, no matter the form, caused me to freeze - it was overwhelming for a multitude of reasons, and honestly, I don't think that I can separate out all of them. But... with time, patience, and a friend with a habit of poking people to get their attention, I slowly started to be able to handle contact and even found myself desperate for the comfort of contact. It wasn't fast. I think that process took around a year for me, and if I don't have regular physical contact I immediately begin to have those problems on a smaller scale. (disclaimer that this is my personal experience, ymmv)

As far as desiring that kind of bond, that comfortable closeness and affection... I honestly think that's a great topic to work through with a therapist. For many of us who've experienced abuse, healthy relationships are frightening. We are often taught by our abusers that we don't deserve those, and we may not have prior experience with them to even know what a healthy relationship looks like. This uncertainty and fear is a protective response from our body that tries so hard to protect us, while also being a sentient sack of flesh doing its best.

I can't tell you a magical secret to working through that fear. I can tell you that when my therapist first told me, about two years ago, that they want me to understand that not everyone is trying to hurt me, I laughed at what I perceived to be an absurd statement. I can tell you that I now look back at that and wish I could hug myself in that moment, and tell myself that the most absurd thing was how similarly charged I felt the statements "the sky is blue" and "everyone will hurt me so I should close myself off and be completely self-sufficiently alone no matter how much I wish I could trust others" were.

You don't have to focus on a distant "can I ever have that close of a bond with someone?" You can work with a therapist or even by yourself to take a step back when your trauma-informed brain is afraid, to acknowledge and respond to that fear in a healthy way. You can look at any bonds you have now, no matter how small, and slowly reassure yourself that you are safe here and now.

Healing is a process. In the moment, you'll become able to acknowledge how you feel and how to best respond to that. You will accomplish bonds with people that will bring you joy. It isn't a fast or easy journey with one easily traveled path: it's looking at the roadmap of your life and updating it. Right now your trauma informed brain is an old GPS insisting that you are, in this moment, actually lost in a cornfield - but you are on a road to a new chapter.

It will be okay, and I'm so proud of you for taking these first steps.

[rezzyromance]

How would the four lords react if their s/o suddenly says, “I think I’m in love with you,” while watching them do something mundane, eg. Alcina putting on her lipstick, Heisenberg tinkering with something, etc.

This makes me so happy :,)

Alcina

You lay on the large bed you and Alcina shared. It was made to fit her, so to you it was like an ocean of soft mattress and silk sheets. You were so comfortable, although the presence of your lover would make the situation all the more comforting. Instead of laying with you, she was hurrying to get ready for a meeting Mother Miranda had called together. She always made sure to look her best before leaving the house. You lay on your side and prop your head up with your hand, all your weight put onto your elbow. You watched as she sat down in front of her mirror to do some touch ups on her makeup.

"I wish you didn't have to go. I wish you could just lay here with me." you complain. "I know my dear. I'd love nothing more than be able to spend my time with you, lazing away, but I'm afraid this meeting is very important." her tone was soft and sweet. It was a tone she only spoke to you in. You sigh and continue to stare at her, admiring the way she gently bounces her hair in her hands to make sure it sits perfectly. She notices you staring through the mirror and can't help but smile as she reaches for her favorite lipstick.

"I'm surprised you haven't burned a hole in me with that stare of yours." she says before parting her lips to apply her lipstick.

"I think I'm in love with you.", you lovingly say. It wasn't odd or out of the ordinary. You told her that you loved her often, but there was something special about the way you said it this time that made her freeze. Her eyes grew wide for just a second as a blush began to rise from her pale cheeks. She turns to face you, intensely staring into your eyes as the corners of her lips perk upwards into a pleasant smile. "Oh my sweet (Y/N).", she stands up and walks over to you before placing a kiss on your lips, leaving a red stain from her lipstick.

Donna

You yawn as you curl up comfortably in a chair with a hot cup of tea in your hands. It's not a yawn of boredom or exhaustion, but a yawn of comfort. The type of yawn your body produces because it's so at peace that life itself begins to lull you to sleep. You were watching as Donna sewed a brand new dress for one of her dolls. She had taken off her veil to do this, not wanting any lack of vision to ruin her progress. The dress was beautiful. She had been working on it for days. It was a small, pink and flower patterned dress with white lace around the edges that Donna stared at with intensity as she attached it with her needle and thread.

No words were spoken for the entirety of her process. You sat in silence and watch through out all of it. The way her eyes never unfocused from the task made your heart flutter. The way her dainty hands held the fabric so gently caused a light smile to rest on your face. She was just so beautiful.

After a while, you decide to break the silence. "I think I'm in love with you." She gasps and nearly pricks her finger with the needle. Her whole body language changed as she nervously fiddled with a stray strand of hair with her fingers. Her shyness only made you smile harder. "I think I love you too.", she whispers before smiling and continuing with her work, attempting to hide how flustered she is.

Moreau

The light from the tv was the only thing illuminating the room. Moreau had put on one of his favorite romance movies for you both to watch. You told him you'd never seen it before and that absolutely blew his mind. How could you NOT see this masterpiece of a movie? There was no negotiating with the man. You HAD to watch it and so now here you are, curled up on the couch with him in the dark.

You had noticed out of the corner of your eye throughout the whole movie that Sal kept turning his head towards you, observing your reactions to his favorite parts of the movie. He wanted nothing more than for you to enjoy the movie just as much as he does, so you made sure to pay close attention. It was a very cheesey movie about an underdog winning the girl of his dreams who's way out of his league. But still, you pushed through.

You noticed that he hadn't looked over at you in a while. His face was too fixated on the television. You glance over to and notice something. Very subtly, he was mouthing every word spoken in the movie. You kept staring but made sure to not make it obvious enough for him to notice. Word for word, he got everything right. Every single word and sentence was right on time. "How many times has he seen this?", you wondered to yourself. Then, the movie goes silent for a second other than some cinematic music. His lips stopped moving as there were no more words to speak, but a smile grew on his face. You look to the movie and see that it was some sort of scene where the two characters have their first kiss. It's passionate and wholesome. "I think I'm love with you.", you say as you stare at him. He jumps as his shocked expression jerks from the tv to your face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was agape. "R-REALLY?!" You laugh at his excitement. "Of course! I know it!", you assure him before placing a kiss on his cheek.

Heisenberg

"Son of a bitch..." he grumbled quietly as he fiddled with something small in his hands. He had been working on a gift for you for a while now, but he needed it to be absolutely perfect. His face was sweaty even though he wasn't doing anything that required any hard physical labor. It was just the sheer intensity of his own perfectionism that caused such stress for him. He had a pair of glasses that he never wears on. They just help magnify things for him so he can see even the smallest little details of whatever he's working on.

"Heisey, I'm bored. Mind if I sit in here while you work? I promise I won't be a distraction.", you lean on the doorway to his workshop. "Sure but you're gonna have to sit..", he paused for a second as he dragged a metal chair across the room, setting it in a corner that's the farthest away from him. "Oh come on!", you groan. "Don't give me that bitchin'. I'm busy and this is top secret stuff I'm working on!" You groan at his ridiculousness and walk over to the chair anyway. You sat down and watched as his brow remained furrowed intensely. "Damn. He must be working on something serious." You thought to yourself. You noticed he had his tongue sticking out ever so slightly as he worked. You wanted to chuckle, but didn't want to distract him. "Stupid piece of shit..... come on....", he whispers to himself through gritted teeth.

You stared at him, captivated by his focus and intensity. Whatever he's working on must be really small because he's able to hide it from your field of vision with just his hand. He kept grunting and whispering things under his breath. You could tell he was growing frustrated with whatever he was working on. "What are you working on again?", you question. "It's a surprise.", he says bluntly. Your interest is peaked.

He looked goofy. His large body was hunched over a chair, hovering over something so small you hadn't even seen it yet. How could something so small be causing so much stress from such a large man. The absurdity of it all caused you to chuckle. "What the hell's so funny?" He sounds aggravated as all hell yet his focus never strays away from whatever is in his hands. He looked to be carving into whatever it is.

"I think I'm in love with you.", you blurt out. He responds with a cocky chuckle after pausing for a second. You couldn't tell, but in that second where he was speechless, he felt like his heart stopped. Did you really mean it? Could you really mean it? Why now? How could him in such a strange position invoke feelings of affection from you? While his mind raced, he was able to appear as if it didn't affect him. "Oh yeah? How come?" "You're just so funny looking right now. But in a cute way.", you explain. "Like, you're this big and powerful guy, but you're so stressed over something that's so smile and you're trying so hard to work on whatever it is with your giant hands. I'm not sure why, but it's just so loveable to me."

He had completely frozen during your words. He had no idea what to do. It felt as if his brain short circuited and was unable to proceed normally from that moment. "You know what. I think it's perfect.", he says before stepping away from his workshop table with his hand clasped together. He swallowed harshly as he walked towards you and revealed what was in his hands. He made a necklace all by himself with his own blood, sweat, and tears. On the front, it was his family crest. He had manage to manipulate the metal perfectly. On the back it had the word "Buttercup", engraved. You didn't hesitate to put it around your neck. "It looks even better on you.", he smirks before pulling you into a kiss.

[animeomegas]

Omega!Itachi comforting his mate

 Anon:Can you do a scenarios where itachi comforts his s/o after a nightmare??

AND

Anon: Itachi fluff pls 🥺 can you write about how Itachi comforts his s/o after a loooongggg mission that takes a toll on their body??

AND

Anon: have u got anything to spare regarding itachi, or any other uchiha? 👀

(I can indeed do all these things, enjoy everyone~ 💓)

Warnings: None.

Itachi is very good at noticing emotional and physical changes in his alpha, which means he always knows when they could use a little comfort or attention.

What he is not good at however, is words, and so he relies mainly on actions as a way to offer comfort.

Itachi does sometimes feel guilty that he can’t offer verbal support, so he makes up for it tenfold.

Baths, food, someone to vent to, whatever his alpha needs, he’ll try his hardest to supply.

Itachi owes them so much, after all, so he should give as much as he can in return.

As far as specifically to nightmares/post-mission comfort, well:

Nightmares –

Itachi is a light sleeper, so chances are he’ll either already be awake or he’ll be woken up by his alpha having a nightmare.

Itachi is a little unsure how to go about comforting his alpha after a nightmare, so he will normally fall back on two plans. Plan number one is doing as he’d asked and involves him simply completing any requests his alpha makes of him. But if his alpha simply insists that they are fine and that he shouldn’t worry, he moves on to plan two in which he copies what they do for him when he has nightmares.

For Itachi, tea makes everything better, so hopefully that also works for his alpha because it is his first attempt at comforting them if you don’t wish to fall back to sleep. 

Itachi drinks so much tea it’s almost impressive (and also makes up over half of his mission budgets)

He is very willing to listen if his alpha would like to talk to him about their nightmare, or about anything else they wish to talk through.

And…

Well, this part is a sort of secret… but-

Itachi has quite a lovely voice and if nothing worked in calming down his alpha and they asked him to sing...

He would. Very quietly, but he would.

Itachi hates singing in front of people but he would do anything if his alpha needed/asked him to do it.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you stare down into your tea. “You don’t have to stay up with me Itachi, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You are not disturbing me,” Itachi replies simply from his position perched next to you on the bed, and silence falls between you both.

“Itachi, could you…” you trail off, blushing a little at the absurdity of the request you almost made.

“Could I what?” he asks softly.

You hesitate to respond, but decide to go for it. “Could you sing for me?”

Itachi stills at your request, but his hair stops you from being able to see his facial expression. You bite your lip, worried that you have offended or embarrassed him.

“What… What should I sing?” Itachi eventually asks, bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m not sure it will help you, my voice is not very good.”

“I love to hear your voice,” comes your immediate and truthful reply. “It’s as beautiful as the rest of you.”

Itachi scoffs a little, as he always does when you compliment him too directly.

“And you’re not allowed to say anything about not being beautiful on the outside, Itachi, because I swear, no matter how sad I am, I will fight you until you admit to being stunning. Sing for me, please?”

Itachi takes a shaky breath, before quietly beginning to sing in his gentle but steady voice.

He sings a poem he was taught by his mother as a child, a poem he had loved fiercely, because of its content. It was a poem about the pursuit of peace and it used to give him hope in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep, that things would get better. 

His voice is very quiet, but there is nothing as relaxing as hearing your mate sing to you, something he did so rarely. Suddenly the stress of the nightmare seemed so far away, so miniscule in comparison to the surge of love that made your chest burn.

You want to reach out again and tell Itachi how beautiful he is, how loved he is, but your body feels too heavy, and instead, you simply drift to sleep.

 Post-Missions –

Itachi is hyper alert when his alpha comes back from a mission, scanning every inch of them to make sure that they haven’t sustained any significant injuries.

This goes double for longer missions because it’s much harder for Itachi to quieten his protective instincts if his alpha has been away from him for a substantial amount of time.

So, he’ll notice straight away if his alpha is obviously exhausted and injured after a mission and he makes it his top priority to look after them, because Itachi is a nurturing person by nature, one, but he also feels like he owes his alpha so much.

Itachi will first treat any injuries to the best of his abilities, quietly stripping his alpha and bandaging or healing any wounds he can find, too focused to feel any embarrassment about paying that much attention to his alpha’s bare body.

He is mostly silent when doing this, but the silence isn’t awkward, it’s peaceful after the chaos of a mission that left you broken and bruised.

When he’s done, he doesn’t want to get the bandages wet, so he will help his alpha wash their hair over the side of the bath and dry it for them afterwards, before tucking them into bed with the instruction to wait while he makes them something to eat.

Canon Itachi is… not the greatest cook. He can find an animal and roast it on a fire if he needs to, but as far as cooking in an actual kitchen goes, his skills are questionable at best. So Itachi is likely to be gone for quite a long time and then come back in with something slightly burnt or something he got from a shop because his first attempt was inedible and he gave up.

It’s very cute though, so he gets a pass.

When the food has been eaten, Itachi will try to get his alpha to fall asleep.

He isn’t the greatest at that, because it makes him feel very awkward to be too emotionally vulnerable, even with his mate.

He might massage his alpha if it seems like they have muscle pain, and he’ll always let them decide how to cuddle in bed if they want to do so, but Itachi’s main show of love and comfort is just being there for his mate. 

If they are in pain, he will always try his hardest to be there, because they are his happiness and reason to live rather than just survive.

“Come here,” you whine, making a very weak grabby hand towards Itachi. “I missed you, I want to cuddle.”

Itachi lets out a breathy laugh but continues to fuss over the bandages he had just tied.

“You’re injured.”

“And you’ll make me feel better,” you grin, refusing to give up on coaxing him to lay with you. Itachi only shakes his head in exasperation, but he still decides to slip into bed beside you regardless. You immediately try and pull him into an embrace, but he lets out a little reprimanding growl and pulls away.

“Be careful,” he admonishes, a disappointed frown on his face. “You’re still hurt.” Itachi pulls the same face every time he tells you off and it’s always adorable. You reach a hand up to smooth his furrowed brows.

“If you frown too much, your face will get stuck this way.”

Itachi hits you with an unimpressed look, but still lays down next to you as you had requested.

“But it’s okay,” you continue, voice getting softer as you relax against your mate who was now laying next to you. “I’ll still love you, even if your face is stuck in a frown. It suits you.”

“Does it now?” Itachi asks, sounding amused and exasperated.

You nod against his chest, reaching out an arm to grip on to his shirt despite the aching in your arm. Your whole body felt like one giant bruise, but Itachi’s scent was slowly pushing the hurt away.

“You need some sleep to recuperate.”

“Hypocrite,” you murmur, slowly drifting to sleep.

“Sleep,” he commands, the amusement slipping through. “I will change your bandages in the morning.”

[stardust-kenobi]

Let Me Help You

Obi Wan x Reader

Summary: Obi Wan isn’t very tech-savy, and he wants you to help him with his computer while you two sit in the Jedi Temple library. You offer your assistance, and decide to help him in other ways, too.

Warnings: smut, dub-con!!, male oral receiving, public oral sex

Word count: 2k

A/N: ⚠️please DO NOT read if you’re uncomfortable with dub-con. It’s not for everyone. (In this specific plot it’s used because Obi Wan is trying to be a good Jedi) Consent is slightly more clear right before the act.

This was requested by anon! Thanks lovely, hope you enjoy 💕

(my gif)

Obi Wan’s face became more frustrated by the second. You sat across from him in the Temple library. You’d joined your friend today because he wanted the company while he completed some tasks undoubtedly related to his Jedi duties. 

“You alright?” You inquired, attempting to withhold a giggle at the sight of a man who is so usually calm becoming annoyed at technology.

“This datapad is going to drive me mad” he huffed. His fingers furiously tapped away at his attempted tasks.

“Sounds like a user-error” you teased him while continuing to stare at him. He looked up at you, obviously trying not to smile back. “And it’s a desktop computer, so, not technically a data pad” you jokingly corrected him.

“Well, whatever it is, it doesn’t like me very much” he remarked and returned his attention to the illuminated screen.

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

“I’m trying to navigate the archives here but it keeps telling me I’m typing in invalid coordinates” his voice grew more annoyed.

“Would you like my help?” You offered kindly

“No, that’s not necessary.” He politely declined.

You waited, not responding, knowing he’d change his mind after another failed attempt. His eyes shot upward at you across the table and quickly looked back down, but then hesitantly returned to your gaze.

“Maybe I could use your help, y/n” he finally admitted.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought” you rose from your seat and headed around the table. You observed the room, and no one was around. You hadn’t seen anyone in the library since you walked in. You could probably hear a pin drop in the vast silence. You came around behind his chair and leaned down next to him. Obi Wan’s eyes could not have been less discreet as they peered over to your chest that was now at his eye level. Your shirt was low cut, and perhaps a little too tight, but nothing you wouldn’t normally wear. You noticed but said nothing to Obi Wan, just flattered that he wanted to look.

“Let me try and enter the coordinates. What were they?” You inquired. He gave you the same numbers he had been typing in. You unfortunately found yourself having the same issue he was having. Obi Wan laughed, mocking you for thinking it was his fault.

“User-error, was it?” He teased you. You shook your head and giggled.

“Let me try something else” you said. You attempted other methods in order to make it work. 

“Why don’t you pull up a chair?” He suggested.

You looked around, there were no chairs close, except for your chair on the other side of the table.

“Oh no, that’s alright” you shrugged, but then an idea crept into your devious, sexually deprived head. You checked your surroundings again, no one was in the library. It was late, anyways, so it wasn’t unusual.

Obi Wan’s lap sat there, open and empty, legs spread open, as if it was waiting on you to fill the space. You slowly moved your hips downward and over onto his thighs. He didn’t say a word, protest, or even make a sound, until you were fully seated on his unprepared lap.

“Oh, um...alright then” he stuttered, unsure what to say, but didn’t reject you either.

“Sorry, I saw a perfectly good seat and took it. That okay?” You clearly played innocent.

He roughly cleared his throat and breathed out hard. His built up sexual tension was obvious, and you preyed on it guiltlessly.

“No problem at all” he chuckled, finally responding to you. Continuing to work at the computer in your new found seat, you rotated your hips side to side subtly, pressing more firm into him. Hardly any time had passed before you felt him grow aroused under your ass. You smirked, loving the effect you were having on him.

“Oh, there we go, it worked!” you announced suddenly. The screen displayed the archive location that he searched for, after tweaking with the settings for a bit.

“What worked?” He breathed out, clearly more flustered than the last time he spoke. It was as if he was snapped out of a trance. He was incredibly distracted and couldn’t even recall for the moment what you were even helping him with.

“The...computer?” You stated the obvious, turning around sharply to meet his eyes.

“Right!” He shyly remembered.

His erection was continuing to grow and he wondered if you could feel it against you.

“Something wrong, Obi Wan?” You asked him, Both of you were fully aware of what was happening, but the lack of direct communication refused to acknowledge it plainly.

“Oh, I’m fine” He replied, clearing his throat again.

“You sure? You seemed flustered” You pushed the conversation further.

“Y-yes I'm, uh, I’m sure” he stumbled over his words.

“Seems like you’re having a hard time with your words there, Master Kenobi” you purred, wasting no time dancing around the idea. “Well, something is hard” you smirked, getting close to his face while sitting sideways across his thighs.

His breath hitched in his throat when he heard your voice turn sensual. Obi Wan said nothing because he wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted you, that you could tell, but a man that lived so strictly by the Jedi code would be hard to crack. And in public? He’d be insane to let you seduce him.

“Y/n...” he groaned deeply. His body language communicating how hard it was to restrain himself.

“Yes?” You whispered while moving your lips to his bare neck. You placed your lips at his supple skin and pecked slowly and lightly.

“As lovely as this is, I can’t” he protested. “It’s forbidden for me to engage in this, y/n, you know that”

Regardless, your lips continued working at his neck. A hum, almost resembling a moan, crawled from his mouth.

“You’re telling me, that if I got on my knees, right now, right here in front of you, that you wouldn’t want me to suck your cock?” You purred so softly directly into his ear. You observed the chills that cascading down his body and you smiled against his skin.

“Stars, y/n, I’ve never heard you talk like this” He avoided the question, his breathing still tense. You felt his hips buck slightly up into your weight.

“I know how stressed you are, Obi Wan, let me help you” you offered. He looked into your eyes for a moment. Desperation was hidden deep in his gaze. He wanted a release, but had to make a decision of his morality and his loyalty to the Jedi Order.

“You want to do that to me...here?” He inquired the absurdity of your offered actions and especially there in public. His tone was so innocent and clueless to your attraction to him.

“Oh, Master Kenobi, it’d be my pleasure” you called him by his formal name yet again, even though you’d only ever called him Obi Wan. You assumed it might turn him on. You were right.

You softly press your lips onto his. He received your lips hesitantly, but then eagerly. You moved to straddle him, placing both legs on either side of his hips. You pushed your hips forward, curling them into his bulge. Becoming more comfortable with your touch, Obi Wan’s lips danced with yours passionately.

Butterflies fluttered in your belly as you finally acted on your eager built up desires for him.

“But, y/n, the Council -” he began again, breaking the kiss, and still worried for his long list of ethical restrictions on his life.

“I don’t see them here...do you? And we both know Anakin doesn’t follow the rules, does he?” You persisted.

“Well, no. I suppose you’re right” he whispered back, laughing quietly at your comment. He was nervous, but it was impossible for him to hide his new hunger for your lips around his cock.

“Allow yourself some fun, Master”

“Y/n, I want to, but I’ve never done anything like this before” He admitted casually.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you” you sweetly assured him.

“Okay, darling, but I do believe we must make this quick” he finally fully accepted the idea, but looked quickly around the very large room to confirm you were alone together.

“Oh it won’t take me long at all” you winked at him.

Removing yourself from his lap, his eyes never left you as he was unsure of your next step. You got on your knees in front of him, as you promised. His hands eagerly fumbled to pull his trousers down. You met his hands halfway and took over.

His cock begged to be let free from its restraints. Once the cloth passed his full length, it sprung out and met your eye level. He was so adorably nervous. You released a moan at the sight of him exposed to you.

You wrapped your hand around him and the contact made him twitch. He breathed out heavily as he’d never been touched like this by another person. Your eyes met his lustful gaze. You raised your eyebrows, non verbally asking If he was ready. He nodded his head, and you proceeded.

Your lips parted widely to bring him into your mouth. Your eyes locked as you lowered your mouth completely down his length, taking all of him into you. A feeling so unfamiliar to him caused Obi Wan to grip the arm rest of the chair. He breathed in sharply, and exhaled the sweetest moan. Using the moisture from your mouth, you glided yourself up and down slowly.

“Oh my stars, y/n” he whispered. You two knew you still needed to be quiet, in case someone was close.

Obi Wan was so sensitive and touch starved beyond belief. No matter how hard he tried to muffle himself, he was unsuccessful. Your ears were graced with the delicate sounds escaping his lips as you brought him more pleasure than he’d ever experienced before.

“Fuck” he cried, already so close to his climax from your skilled motions. Vulgarity flying from him was a new sound to you and it earned a warm sensation inside of you.

An aching formed between your legs, a feeling of pleasure that was all too familiar to you. You wanted him to take you right then and there, but you’d surely get caught. Another time, you thought.

Removing your mouth to rest your jaw, you pumped your hands around him. You looked up at him, his eyes had still not broken contact with you while you created a euphoric form of pleasure for him for the first time.

“Y/n...” he whimpered

“Yes, Master Kenobi?” You cooed and smiled at him. He formed a grin down at you that quickly turned back into his O-face as you pumped him faster.

“I’m...oh my” he started, his body couldn’t stay still.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Oh, yes, y/n. I’m so close. I’m gonna cum” he whined.

You returned the moisture of your mouth back to his cock and sloppily, yet rhythmically, sucked him continuously, responding to the way his body moved and the sound of his moans. The veins in his length twitched and his hips shifted.

Obi Wan threw his head back in ecstasy and just then you felt your throat become coated in his hot cum. The suppression of the growls that formed from his climax was intense and deep, somehow loud and quiet simultaneously.

You swallowed him up and removed your mouth from his sensitive parts. Obi Wan’s head was still laid back, you watched as his chest rose and fell with the effort to catch his breath.

“Was that alright?” You asked, giggling, knowing the answer already.

“Well, I...darling that was...incredible” he finally expressed in between his deep breaths.

You helped him pull his trousers back up and plant a kiss on his cheek as you stood.

“Glad I could be of some assistance for you tonight” you winked.

He was blushing, still in disbelief that you two just engaged in such an act. He was so precious and shy about the whole thing, but enjoyed every single second of it.

“Perhaps maybe I can help you next time, hm?” He suggested. You bite your lip, already growing eager for the next time you’d be alone with him.

Kinda wanna make a part 2??

[naughtyneganjdm]

The Favor

Summary: Y/N comes to Negan asking him for a favor and in return he asks her to do something for him and his wife Lucille.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Lucille.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut & a Threesome (MFF) 

Notes: Not going to lie, this doesn't have much of a plot. This was just a story that was requested of me and after seeing the promo picture of Negan and Lucille from The Walking Dead 10c, I was inspired. 

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909305

“So, you want me to do what now?” Negan blurt out clearly amused by the tone of his voice from where he was sitting on the corner of his desk. Frustration flooded Y/N’s body when she lowered her head and an embarrassed flush developed over her face. Negan was laughing plainly still stuck on what she had asked him. The reaction to what she asked of him made her almost regret asking him in the first place. “Say it again.”

“Forget it,” Y/N held her hand up in the air not wanting to embarrass herself any further. Pointing behind her, she nodded toward the direction she wanted to leave. If she could hit rewind on this whole thing, she totally would have. When she came to Negan’s office to ask him for a favor, she never really expected it to turn out like this. She didn’t even know what she was thinking in the first place. “I’m sorry for asking. I’m going to go hide and pretend like I don’t even know you anymore because I feel so stupid.”

“No, no. Hold on,” Negan called out when she went to leave his office and he continued to snicker to himself. “I’m just…you have to understand here I’m not used to people making requests of me like this. Actually, I’m not used to anyone asking me for anything.”

“Listen, I’ve been working here for a while and not many people are really nice to me here. You’re always very kind to me,” she admitted noticing the way that Negan had his eyes hooked on her. His eyebrows arched in curiosity when she took a moment to pause and think about what she was going to say. Recently she had joined the school as a student teacher. When she started working in the art department, not many people really gave her the time of day. Most of the people that worked there had their cliques and it felt like high school all over again. Negan was really one of the only people that she found to be nice to her. In her short time at the school, Y/N was able to help update things greatly and it truthfully pissed off some of the older staff that was working there. So, she was often snubbed in the hallways, but Negan was never one of those people. “I thought we were kind of friends.”

“Because we talk to each other in the teachers’ lounge?” Negan snorted and his reply made her feel stupid all over again.

“Well that and we have been bringing each other breakfast for a while now,” she reasoned with him and Negan’s big hazel eyes got wider. It looked like Negan was about ready to burst at the seams with laughter and when he began to laugh, she looked down toward the ground again. “Wow, I totally misread everything here. I am so sorry.”

“I felt bad for you that people were snubbing you so I brought you coffee and then you had to go be adorable bringing me in breakfast as a thank you,” Negan sighed watching her worried eyes lifting to his. Leaning forward, he slicked back his thick, dark hair and ran his fingers through his dark beard. “It just kind of became a thing. Tuesdays and Thursdays are mine. Mondays and Wednesdays are yours.”

“I’m confused,” she cleared her throat, resting her back against the wall while watching him closely. “Does that mean you think we are friends or not?”

“Well, originally I just kind of thought we were work associates that were friendly with each other,” Negan simply answered, rubbing his hands together when he eyed her over. “Friends hang out with each other after school. Friends exchange numbers. That kind of thing.”

“Part of me worried about asking you to hang out because…” she got caught up on what she was thinking. There was the urge to be blunt and honest with him, but another part of her didn’t want to feel even more pathetic than she already did. “You’re married and I didn’t want you to think that I was asking you out on a date.”

“Oh, so that’s why you didn’t want to exchange numbers?” Negan almost teased her, lifting his hand up to look over the wedding band on his finger. “You know, Simon and I exchanged numbers almost immediately. Simon doesn’t bring me breakfast two days out of the week.”

“Yeah, but Simon is a guy,” she reminded him and Negan tilted his head to the side as if waiting for her to explain further.

“So, I can’t be friends with a woman because I’m married?” Negan inquired and she wasn’t quite sure how to respond so she just shrugged her shoulders. “Well that’s a little sexist, isn’t it? Why can men only be friends with men? Also…who’s to say I’m not attracted to both men and women? Then should I be friends with no one because I’m married?”

“I never…wait…what?” she felt overwhelmed with his interrogation and his thick rumble of a laugh filled the air again. “You know what, I think I’m going to leave. I’m sorry for bothering you about this. This was illogical.”

“Hey, I’m fucking with you,” Negan alerted her when he could sense that she was getting stressed with the way he was acting. “I’m not saying no, but I don’t really get it. You know? You want to take photos of me? For what reason?”

“Just forget it,” she shook her head knowing that this was absurd from the start.

“Would you just sit down for a second,” Negan suggested, holding his hand out toward the seat that was before him in front of the desk he was sitting on the edge of. When she went to leave again, he stumbled to his feet and grabbed her wrist in a delicate manner. Pulling her back, he carefully nudged her down into the seat and went back to sit where he was. In this position, Negan was definitely in her person space and it made her uncomfortable. This was awkward. “Explain. Just tell me why you want me to do it. That’s all I’m asking you.”

“I’m working on my portfolio and I just want people to pose for me for some portraits,” she answered feeling small with the way Negan was staring down at her. His light, hazel eyes were incredibly intense and it made her mouth go dry.

“And you don’t have friends that could do this for you?” Negan tilted his head to the side and bit at his lip when he asked her. “I’m not really one for photos, you know? I know you like the whole photo and video thing, but it’s just…I’ve never liked being in front of them.”

“I find that hard to believe because you love being the center of attention,” Y/N rationalized with him what he had just said to her. The expression he gave her almost seemed impressed that she called him on his shit, but she immediately felt embarrassed for saying that to him. “I am so sorry.”

“No, you’re right…I like to tell a story,” Negan confessed with a snort, knowing that she was being bold with what she said to him. “And I do like to be doted on.”

“Your personality is part of the reason I want to take photos of you,” she thought of all the times she had walked into the teachers’ lounge to see Negan having a group of people surrounding him while he told a story. The way he would smile and get extremely animated with his body made him someone she wanted to take pictures of for so long. “You’re fun.”

“Well, that’s true,” Negan winked, his smile drawing her eyes to it. It seemed like Negan was thinking things over while he stroked over his short, dark beard. “I’m just sure you have better looking, younger friends.”

“Yeah, I have friends, but I just like your look,” she explained and Negan’s eyebrows bounced up with her answer. Folding her arms out in front of her chest, she slid down in the chair and cleared her throat. “If you don’t like photos taken, that’s okay.”

“So basically, you’re telling me you think I’m hot,” Negan retorted with another amused breath, “that’s why you want to take pictures of me?”

“I’m not saying you’re hot,” she panicked at his response and she shifted in the seat before him uncomfortably. Well shit, why did she have to go and say that?

“Now are you saying I’m ugly then?” Negan hurriedly blurt out and she felt the room around her getting extremely hot.

“I would never say that. Negan, yes. I like to take photos of people that appeal to me. I like your look and your style,” she shook her head, not knowing exactly what to say with him. “You’re unique and looking at you inspires me with ideas of things that we could do if we worked together.”

“What kinds of things?” Negan’s voice got deeper and there was clear interest in his eyes. “I didn’t know that my looks could inspire someone.”

“You’d be surprised,” she sighed knowing that she found Negan extremely ruggedly handsome. It was hard not to stare at him whenever he was around. When he first brought her coffee, she thought it was a form of flirting, but when she took notice of his wedding ring she knew better. Instead she just assumed that Negan was a friendly person and accepted the weird friendship they had going.

“Just to confirm some things here. You are asking me to come to your studio you have tonight because you don’t like anyone else here…” Negan revealed what he thought she was telling him and she leaned forward in the chair. Her lips parted and she looked shocked to hear what he said. Y/N made hesitant movements as if trying to think of something to say in response, but he shook his head. “Don’t pretend you like the people here. They are fuckers. Most of them at least. We both know that.”

“Everyone seems to like you,” she reminded him and Negan made a dramatic face that made her laugh. “I haven’t met a person that hates you.”

“I’m an asshole with a mouth that gets me in trouble. Everyone loves that, but also secretly hates that. It’s like a Stepford community every single time I come here. I don’t blame you for hating everyone,” Negan dismissed that thought and waved his hands in the air. “Back to what I was saying though, you think I’m fucking hot and you want to take pictures of me.”

“I don’t recall telling you that I think you are fucking hot,” she pointed out and Negan’s dimples became more prominent when he gave her a doubtful expression.  Instead of giving him the gratification of her saying yes, she did find him hot, she moved along with what she was saying. “It’s for my portfolio. Yes, I want to teach, but I’d also potentially like to have more one day.”

“Hmm…I see,” Negan licked his lips and dragged his tongue along his bottom lip. Pressing his hands back, he braced his weight on them when he leaned back and cleared his throat. “If I do you this favor for you…you have to do me a favor.”

“What’s that?” she was surprised to hear him say something like that but was almost curious as to what he could possibly want from her.

“I’ve seen some of the videos you’ve done for the school. What you do is good work,” Negan stated with a smirk seeing the curiosity flooding through her features. “If you want me to be your model, you have to record something for my wife and me on the weekend.”

“That’s it?” she half laughed knowing that she was expecting something much worse. “Absolutely. That’s no problem at all.”

“You’d be free Saturday to come over and help us out with a project?” Negan confirmed and she enthusiastically nodded. “It’s kind of…intense. You’re down for anything?”

“Negan, you’re helping me out greatly if you model for me. I’d do anything for you,” she claimed knowing that she was absolutely excited at the possible idea of him even considering modeling for her. Especially after she felt so ridiculous for asking him in the first place.

“I’m holding you to it,” Negan snapped his fingers and gave her a wink before looking down at himself. “I’ve got jeans and a black Henley when I’m not in my gym clothes here. Is that going to be okay with you? It’s not like I have multiple outfits.”

“We’ll make it work,” she knew it wouldn’t matter what he wore because she would be able to do some really nice things just having him there. “Are you sure?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?” Negan asked with an entertained sound which made her swiftly shake her head. Reaching his large hand out, he took her hand in his and shook on what they agreed upon. “Then I guess we have a deal.”

“Definitely,” she agreed with him, knowing that she didn’t mind doing something for anyone when they helped her out.

“I brought the motorcycle in so I will just have to follow you after school,” Negan informed her with a loud sigh, getting up from where he was seated on the corner of his desk. Heading to his seat, he knew that he had a lot of work to finish before then and he needed to get to work on it. “I’ll meet you out in the parking lot when I’m done.”

The plans were set in stone and Y/N went back to the class she was meant to be helping with. She was thankful that Negan agreed to do the photoshoot, but she prayed that she didn’t make a fool of herself when she was around Negan. It would be easy to do since she felt like she had already been somewhat foolish when she asked him to do this in the first place.

After school was over, she had met Negan in the parking lot and had him follow her to her home where she had a studio set up in her oversize detached garage. When she opened it and urged Negan to drive his motorcycle into the garage, she could hear Negan snickering.

“What?” she was confused with the way he was acting while he turned off his motorcycle. Shrugging her shoulders, she waited for an answer as he pulled him body from the motorcycle after putting his kickstand down.

“Well when you told me your studio, I just kind of imagined a real studio. Not one that was set up in your garage,” Negan looked beyond her to see the set-up she had at the complete opposite end of her garage.

“This garage is the reason I got this house. I saw opportunities with a studio in here and it’s the best I can do right now. It’s a heated garage. I think the guy before me used it as a mancave or like a workout area,” she explained and the sound that Negan made almost made her feel embarrassed again. “Damn, you’re good at making me feel ridiculous lately.”

“You’re not ridiculous, I just think you’re adorable,” Negan pulled his helmet off and hung it from the handle of his motorcycle. “I give you shit because I like to see you flustered. Not because you’re ridiculous, but because you are adorable.”

“You’ve told me I’m adorable a lot today,” she recalled the many times he had already said that.

“It’s because you are,” Negan cocked his head and gave her a smile. She didn’t know if she should be flattered by his comment or offended. Given she couldn’t see his eyes because of the sunglasses that he was still wearing, she urged herself to believe him instead of thinking the worst. Hopefully she didn’t come off like a big joke to him.

Heading off in the direction of the lights she had set up, she could hear Negan following her and she began to turn things on to set up a scene, “You know for a while I almost though this whole photoshoot thing was code that you wanted to have sex with me. Now I can see you are just very serious about all of this.”

“You seem like the kind of guy that would like a woman to be forward with that kind of thing Negan,” she acknowledged and looked over her shoulder from where she was setting up a light. “And if you weren’t married, I would have considered it.”

“I do like someone who knows what they want,” Negan agreed with her after thinking about what she said. What made him even more interested was the fact she told him she would have definitely considered something like that. “I’m warning you, I’m a pain in the ass. I’m more of a goof than I actually am sexy and shit.”

“I prefer when someone’s real personality comes out on camera,” she shrugged off his response and continued to set up the area. “How do you feel about using the motorcycle as a prop for the first few photos?”

“Is that what you want?” Negan looked back in the area where he left his motorcycle. “I don’t give a shit what we do in the photos. I’m doing all of this for you. So, whatever you want, I’ll do.”

“I mean, the motorcycle fits your personality so I think it would be cool,” she thought about the offer and Negan walked off to go get his motorcycle again. After setting things up, she had started to take photos of Negan and could sense that he was uncomfortable. He still had his sunglasses on and his leather jacket, but she just felt like he was really stiff. “How would you normally pose on a motorcycle Negan?”

“Honey, I don’t pose on them. I just ride them,” Negan answered while sitting back on his motorcycle, his eyebrows lifting up and over his sunglasses. A tense breath fell from his throat when the light flashed again making him smile. “This is weird.”

“Why?” she moved around the space and Negan was amazed that she was discovering what she found to be good shots of him. “You’re not used to someone thinking you’re gorgeous and thinking you deserve to be photographed?”

“Come again?” Negan’s nose wrinkled hearing her tell him that he was gorgeous. Reaching up, he grabbed the corner of his sunglasses to adjust them and he heard her take another photo. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

“You know you’re gorgeous Negan,” she claimed with a loud sigh, lowering her camera. “You have those dimples and you know that people are suckers for those.”

“Oh, so the dimples work on you, huh?” Negan clearly began to relax when Y/N commented on his dimples and the smiles she was getting were genuine. Adjusting his position, he could sense that she was happy with his change in attitude and bit at his bottom lip.

“Let’s get you off the motorcycle for now,” she ordered and Negan did what she wanted. Surprisingly things seem to go by fast because Negan started to listen to her. They went through a few props that she had in the garage. The two of them were laughing and giggling with each other about things they began talking about and it really helped her with the photos. “I’m going to get a different color background set up…”

“Would you be all right with me smoking?” Negan looked for permission and she shrugged. “It won’t damage things?”

“Just open the window over there,” she instructed and Negan took off his leather jacket and sunglasses while she set things up.

“You really love this shit, huh?” Negan took notice of how much her excitement went up when she was taking photos of him. It was nice to see someone actually be happy when doing something they liked and he was impressed that she could find happiness in her art. Lighting up his cigarette, he took in a long inhale and noticed her moving to the window with him. “Let me guess, you find me smoking sexy?”

“I don’t think you even have to ask me that,” she lifted the camera and Negan smirked when she took a few more photos of him. “I just think you have a very striking look.”

“It’s the dimples,” he listened to her when she gave him more direction on photos she wanted of him. “Does your boyfriend like when you take photos of him?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she informed him while she continued snapping away. “I’m surprised you went straight into assuming things Negan. I could have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, are you into that kind of thing?” Negan’s eyebrow perked up in interest and she shrugged her shoulders before smiling.

“I’m open to things, but I’m not dating anyone,” she replied knowing that she really didn’t want to get into her personal life with Negan at the time, “I’m sure that doesn’t’ surprise you.”

“Actually, it does because you’re incredible,” Negan finished up with his cigarette and watched her roll her eyes when she went back to the set-up she had done before Negan started smoking. “Why did you roll your eyes like I’m fucking with you or something?”

“You…” she waved her hand out when looking over him. “You are incredible. So, to hear you say something like that, I just know you are being sweet and charming as always. That’s just how you are. You’re a flirt and you know what to say to make people smile.”

“Well yeah, but I’m not kidding,” Negan stood where she wanted and posed how she would suggest. While he knew she would be against it, after she took a few more photos of him he stepped forward and reached for the camera. “Give me this.”

“Negan,” she was confused and he grabbed the camera firmly in his hand. He grabbed a chair and set it in the middle of her set. Forcing her onto the chair, he moved before her and raised the camera up to see how it would look in frame if he took her photo. “You suddenly know how to use a camera?”

“I told you I didn’t like to be in front of the camera. I know how to get around using one,” Negan answered her with a grunt when he took a photo of her. “I may not be as good as you are or know all the nifty buttons, but I know enough. My wife bought an expensive camera and someone had to learn how to use it when she didn’t have the time to.”

“Why are you taking photos of me?” she felt her cheeks blushing over while Negan moved from area to area to get pictures of her. “Negan?”

“Because you’re fucking stunning. I know I tease you, but I find you so fucking beautiful,” Negan muttered, lowering the camera enough to eye her over himself and he stepped forward to show her the photos that he had managed to get of her. “I don’t understand how someone as stunning as yourself doesn’t see it.”

“Negan…” she was speechless. His eyes were hooked on hers and they were incredibly close. All the compliments were getting to her and she could feel her body heating up with the closeness of him. When Negan’s eyes fell to her lips, she instantly stood up and reached for the camera from his hands. Negan was married, she couldn’t have the feeling she was experiencing at that exact moment. “You should take a seat.”

“Okay,” Negan sighed, turning the chair around and straddling it. Negan posed for her and then stood, turning the chair the right way. “Are there like photos that you will keep for your own personal use?”

“I mean, I keep the ones that I don’t put in my portfolio on a hard drive,” she watched Negan get comfortable and stretch out his long legs. When Negan let out snicker, she realized she didn’t get what he meant.

“I was going for like ones that you keep to yourself and don’t show anyone,” Negan slid his hand in over his lower abdomen, tracing over the thin planes of his body through the tight-fitting black Henley that clinging to his body. “Ones meant only for your eyes.”

“Negan…?” she pulled the camera away from her face when she saw Negan tug up the material of his shirt revealing his lower abdomen to her sight. Swallowing hard, her eyes fell to the V line that was exposed just above his pants. It made her throat go dry and she felt incredibly turned on while looking at him. It was hard not to eat him alive with her stare. Hey eyes started at the top of his pants and raised up his slender abdomen to finally meet Negan’s hazel eyes. The look that Negan gave her was almost sexual and she started taking the photos with the way he was posed.  

Gradually Negan caressed his long fingers over his exposed flesh, sliding his fingertips through the dark hair covering his body. The way Negan bit into his bottom lip made her shudder and there was a warmth that was filling her entire body. With each picture she took, the further Negan pulled the material of his shirt up exposing his long torso to her sight.

“There are just some things I think people might like keeping to themselves and not sharing with the world,” Negan’s left hand slid in over the center of his chest while his right skimmed over his long body toward his groin. Yeah, he was teasing her, but he was having a good fucking time doing it. Palming over his body excited him with her reaction. The flash continued to go off while she took photos of him like he was expecting her to do. Licking his lips, he wanted to appeal to her and knew it was working with the way she was breathing. “Because I honestly don’t mind continuing to be a model for you if you need it.”

“That would be nice,” she confessed, parting her lips and then licking over them to wet them. When Negan dropped his head back and let out a small moan as he continued to caress over his body through the denim of his pants. “You’re certainly the most…motivating subject I’ve had.”

“Just wait, I’ll get a whole hell of a lot more interesting,” Negan teased sitting up enough to pull his shirt from his body. Tossing the material aside, he could see her lower the camera just enough to take a look over his exposed abdomen.

“Wow,” she uttered, her heart hammering in her chest at the sight of him. He was more stunning than she could have ever imagined. All the tattoos that were hidden from her before added so much more to Negan’s personality and knew while she wanted to look him over more carefully. Each part of him deserved a certain amount of attention, but Negan wiggled his fingers egging her on to keep taking portraits of him.

Slowly Negan caressed over his hairy chest then down toward his abdomen, reaching for his belt. Pulling it apart, he found himself enamored with how she seemed to enjoy what he was doing. When he got the material pulled apart, he arched his hips up and slid his hand beneath the material of his jeans. Squeezing at his body, he knew that the way she had been staring at him between taking photos had fueled him and made him incredibly turned on.

After feeling his body firm against his grip, Negan pulled his hand out and opened his pants up. Tugging the zipper down, Negan kept his eyes hooked on the camera when he reached inside to pull his straining cock out. A groan fell from his throat while he squeezed at the base of his erection, pulling his hand slowly up toward the tip before sliding it back down.  

“Do you like what you see?” Negan pondered, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip in an erotic sweep. Originally when he agreed to this, this wasn’t where he saw this going, but he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

“Your wife is incredibly lucky,” she let out a shuddering breath feeling her throat going dry at the sight of him. She couldn’t believe she was still taking photos while Negan masturbated in front of her, but she kind of let him go with it.

“You could be incredibly lucky too,” Negan suggested, his hips arching up toward his grasp and he moaned loud enough to make her shift uncomfortably. “You do realize that you did this to me? This hard cock is all your fault. The least you could do is help me with it.”

“Negan, I wish I could,” she admitted, not sure what to do. Yes, she was incredibly attracted to Negan, but she knew that he was married. Wanting him like she did was wrong. Hell, taking pictures of him like this was wrong. “You’re married.”

“My wife wouldn’t care,” Negan promised her with a crooked smile while he continued to stroke over his solid length. The way he squeezed his body drew attention to each vein and it made her eyelashes flutter while watching him. “We have a very open relationship. So why don’t you come over here and thank me for doing what you wanted. I’ll thank you for giving me this…”

“You really have an open relationship?” she confirmed and Negan nodded his head while he arched his hips up toward his fist again drawing her attention to his impressive body. Moving across the room, she set her camera down safely and stepped before Negan. The sight of Negan’s body caused a warmth to flood to her core. From the first moment she had seen Negan she had found herself attracted to him and seeing him like this was like he had just stepped right out of her dreams. “You’re so sexy.”

“And you’re fucking beautiful,” Negan leaned forward to clutch firmly at her hips, pulling her in closer to him. Tracing his hands over her sides, he found his eyes locked on her watching the way she seemed to tremble when he touched her. Lifting up, he raised the material of her shirt and pressed wet teasing kisses under her navel. The sound that fell from her throat made a proud smile develop over his features as he continued his wet trail of kisses over her abdomen. A grunt fell from his throat when he felt his cock throbbing and he lowered his head to look down at his erection. “Get on your knees.”

Without question, she did as he said and carefully lowered herself down before him. Licking her lips, she hooked her eyes with his and reached out to caress her hands over his knees. The further her hands slid up his thighs, the lower he slid in the chair to give her more room. Tugging at the material of Negan’s pants she managed to pull them down his hips a little further to reveal his distended flesh better to her.

“You have a beautiful cock,” she reached her hand out to trace her fingertips up from the base of the underside of his hardened flesh to the tip causing it to twitch. The growl that fell from his throat triggered her to smirk and she repeated the movement a few more times.

“You’re teasing me,” Negan rumbled from where he was seated, reaching out with his right hand to brush his fingers into her hair. “Is this the way you want to treat someone who modeled for you?”

“Oh, like I’m treating you bad,” she rolled her eyes and loosely wrapped her palm around his shaft, stroking slowly over the length of his body. Negan’s jaw flexed when she did it and he arched his hips up toward her caress.

“Very, very bad,” Negan groaned, dropping his head back while she touched him and the muscles in his throat flexed. The warmth of her breath pressed in over his thigh and he felt her lips kissing over his flesh while she continued to delicately caress over his body. Lowering his head to watch her, he could tell that she was proud of herself with the way she was taunting him with the idea of her giving him a blowjob while she kissed up his abdomen. Tugging back on her hair, he could hear her wince and a proud smile expanded over her features. “Fuck, you’re a bad girl. You’re going to be punished.”

“You promise?” she bit at her bottom lip and Negan leaned forward to grasp at her jaw to pull her forward. With the way he was looking her over, it made her body feel like it was on fire. So many times she had pictured kissing Negan and now he was so close to her. It damn near took her breath away and she attempted to move into kiss him, but he kept her back.

“Most certainly,” Negan grunted pulling her to him and his lips collided with hers. It was a rough, demanding kiss that caused her to whimper against his mouth. The parting of her lips allowed Negan’s tongue to push its way into her mouth to caress his tongue over hers in soft flicks. A menthol taste lingered from Negan’s cigarette that he had earlier lingered, but she strangely liked it. Her grasp tightened on his body, making him moan into her mouth before biting at her bottom lip. “Open your mouth.”

Doing as she was told, she felt Negan’s thumb dragging across her bottom lip and she carefully drew it into her mouth. Sucking unhurriedly over it, her focus was on Negan and she wanted to pleasure him so badly, but she needed this to be memorable. The way Negan dragged his tongue over his bottom lip caused her whole body to shudder. God, he was so incredibly sexy. Slowly Negan pulled his thumb from her mouth and reached for the back of her neck urging her head down toward his lap.

Taking it as encouragement, she dragged her tongue across the bottom of his cock starting about mid shaft to the tip. With the sound Negan made, it made her that much more desperate to continue to pleasure him. Depositing soft kisses down his shaft and slowly upwards made him jolt. With each soft kiss, she would softly flick her tongue against his flesh and could hear his breathing getting heavier.  

Reaching the tip again, she dragged her tongue around the girth of it before taking a small amount of him into her mouth. Immediately, he eagerly lifted his hips closer to her, but she pulled away and gave him a judging look making him chuckle.

“Fuck…” Negan watched her caress over the top of his cock for a moment drawing pre-cum at his tip. Leaning in, she flattened her tongue and dragged it over the small slit causing him to moan when she collected the taste of him. With the soft kisses and the hints of her tongue, he found himself extremely turned on by the way she was doing everything. “You’re an erotic little shit, aren’t you?”

“And you’re an impatient fucker, aren’t you?” she almost mocked him, her words vibrating against the shaft of his cock. A loud moan escaped his throat and he sank his fingers further into her hair when she finally took him into her mouth. God, she was so fucking bold compared to what he pictured in his mind originally. Each stroke of her tongue and motion of her mouth over him was very meticulous, but fuck it felt amazing. Wet sounds filled the air while she slowly bobbed her head over his cock drawing his attention to him even more.

“Fuck,” Negan winced when she drew forth an incredible sense of pleasure when her tongue flicked over him a certain way. His eyebrows tensed and he watched her closely enjoying the pleasure she seemed to get from giving him a blowjob. “You look so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth, you know that?”

Over time, her movements got stronger and faster attempting to get him to reach an orgasm. While he was enjoying her taking him right to the edge, he knew that he had other plans for how he wanted the night to end. Grasping tightly to her hair, he pulled her back and heard the slurping sound fill the air when she pulled her mouth from his erection.

The expression over her face came off strangely innocent and sensual at the same time when she licked at her wet lips. Urging her up closer to him, Negan dragged his tongue over her lips and heard the desperate sound she made when he did it.

“While I’d love to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours, this wasn’t exactly the thanks I was looking for,” Negan hummed, standing up and pulling her with him. Pressing his body to hers, the sound of his pants dropping to his ankles was heard and he smiled. When she breathed it still showed that she was nervous to be with him and it turned him on all the more. Palming over her full bottom, Negan squeezed at her body enjoying the sounds she was making when he did it. Backing her up, he led her toward his motorcycle and stopped when she ran into it. “I hope you understand, I’m not as delicate as you…”

Tearing at the material of her shirt, Negan eagerly got it from her body and tossed it aside. Her chest was rising and falling heavily while he continued his movements reaching around her to unhook her bra. When the material dropped from her body, Negan swiftly discarded that with her shirt and kissed over her collarbone. Growling against her flesh, he could feel her fingers tugging at his thick hair and his lips lowered between the valley of her breasts. Reaching his destination, Negan drew her nipple into his mouth and teased his tongue over the taut skin.

“Fuck me…” Negan felt her scratching at his bare shoulders and his hands roughly pulled apart her pants. There was no being careful in the way he tugged at the material of her pants. Her gasps filled the air when he managed to take down the material making her pull in closer to him. “Hold onto the bike…”

“Negan,” she whimpered when he kissed below her navel. The way his tongue flicked over her skin and his teeth followed up with small bites was driving her crazy. Listening to what he suggested, she dropped her hands back and braced herself on Negan’s motorcycle. “Are you sure it won’t fall over?”

“Oh, she’s a sturdy girl made for hard rides,” Negan slurred against her skin, his wicked hazel eyes looking up at her with a glimmering hint of mischief behind them. Tremoring, Y/N could feel his lips lower and when she felt his hands grabbed a tight hold of her thighs to push them apart further, she realized how serious this was all becoming. With her standing mostly naked before Negan, she felt the room spinning around her. This was all more than she was probably ready for, but there was no turning back now. “Mmmm.”

The loud kisses Negan pressed over her body turned into wet slurping sounds when reached between her thighs, eager to take tease her clitoris with his talented mouth. He certainly wasn’t delicate with his motions like he warned her, but she immediately recognized that her body began to shake and shudder with what he was doing to her. The way he varied between kissing, licking and sucking over her sensitive flesh and folds was driving her crazy. Digging her fingers into his thick hair, she found herself leaning back against the bike and wondered if her legs would be giving out on her.

With the way Negan was eating her out, she was almost worried that she would fall over. It was hard to keep up on steady legs while he focused so perfectly on her body. Dropping her gaze, she immediately regretted it because she could see that Negan was staring up at her while he pleasured her to see how she was reacting. God, this was everything she could have pictured and more.

When Negan drew his lips away from her body, she was shaking and clearly wanted him to continue, but his mouth was replaced by the rough caress of his fingertips sliding up the length of her wet slit. A surprised sound fell from her when Negan teased over her entrance with one of his fingertips before thrusting his long, slender finger into her tight opening.

“Good God,” Negan grunted pulling his finger slowly back before pumping it upward again into her. “This has been so much better than what I had planned for tonight…”

“Negan,” she cried out his name when he went back to pleasuring her with his mouth while his finger pumped inside of her. Her eyes slammed shut and a rush of heat flooded to her core. Every part of her felt like she was on fire and Negan clearly picked up on how he was making her feel when he inserted a second finger and delivered more determined strokes with his tongue. Reaching forward, she clasped tightly to Negan’s hair with both her hands and felt Negan humming against her flesh when she had an orgasm.

“Look at you…” Negan muttered from where he was knelt before her. Licking at his lips when he pulled his mouth away from her and moved his hands to caress over her thighs. “You are something else.”

A shocked sound escaped her throat when Negan quickly stood and forced her to face toward his motorcycle. Negan pushed into her upper back getting her to lower down and brace herself against his motorcycle. Taking his time, Negan traced over the long lines of her back with his rough fingertips. Appreciating the sights before him, he let her calm down a bit before reaching for her hips. Adjusting them where he wanted, he pressed in closer to her and could hear her breathing getting heavier.

Grabbing a hold of his aching erection, Negan led the tip of his cock through her wet folds and felt her shaking against him. Lining himself up with her entrance, he pushed his hips forward and heard her coo when he entered her body. A moan fell from his own throat when her tight body clung to his and he continued to sink his length into her.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Negan bottomed out inside of her and reached around her to caress over her full breasts. Y/N wiggled against him, ready for him to move while he stayed stagnant inside of her and an amused sound fell from his throat. “Patience beautiful. I’ll fuck you real good soon.”

Whimpering, she knew that he was teasing her much as she had done earlier with him. It was giving her time to get accustomed to his size inside of her and she could feel every ridge of his body making her tremor against him. Instinctively she tried to rock back against him, her body desperate to feel the movement of his body inside of hers.

“Hey now,” Negan brought his palm firmly over her bottom making her arch forward with a whine and he groaned out. “You really are a bad girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she looked over her shoulder at Negan and watched him begin to roll his hips behind her giving her that small amount of moving she was craving. Looking forward, she whimpered with delight as Negan started to thrust behind her setting a rhythm between them. God, she hoped they didn’t knock over his bike during this. Desperately she was trying to keep herself balanced against it while his thrusts behind her seemed to get hard. Each thrust forward drew a sharp breath from her lips and her eyes slammed shut. The smacking of their skin filled the air and the force at which he was fucking her felt absolutely remarkable. “Negan…”

“If this is how your photoshoots end, I’ll do it as many times as you fucking want sweetheart,” Negan pushed his body in closer to her and reached out to wrap his hand around her throat. The way she rocked back into his thrusts made Negan proud and he let out a moan himself. “Would you like that baby?”

“Yes,” she whined when Negan put pressure on her throat making her purr.

“Then we should make a habit of these,” Negan pulled her up against his chest and he kissed over her jawline while he continued to thrust into her. His other hand reached between her thighs to circle over her already sensitive bundle of nerves while he kept his hold on her throat.

“Negan?” she muttered his name when he pulled his hips away from hers and left her feeling empty. Turning, she watched him move over toward the chair that he was originally in and dropped down. Negan pat his thigh and then wiggled his finger at her to come to him.

“Come ride this baby,” Negan’s bright eyes were hooked on her movements as she moved across the area. Carefully, she lowered down over his lap and Negan reached for his body to help lead her hips down over him. Getting to see the look on her face as he entered her drove him wild with desire. The way she bit into her bottom lip was incredibly sexy and when she lowered herself completely over him, he couldn’t help kissing her. “Fuck.”

Helping her to set a pace over him, Negan grasped tightly to her hips knowing that he would likely leave a mark. Her arms were loosely hooked around his shoulders and Negan moaned into her mouth when he found just the right pace and position that he liked.

Kissing Negan felt incredible going along with the motions their bodies made together. She was rather enthusiastic with him the longer she moved over him and Negan dropped his head back against the back of the chair.

“Oh, that’s good,” Negan hummed in approval, his thighs flexing beneath her while she took him quite well inside of her. “Good girl taking control of that cock. You like that cock? Huh?”

“I do,” she purred into his mouth, sucking softly at the tip of his tongue when it pushed between her lips. Their heavy breaths, grunts and groans echoed in her makeshift studio and with Negan’s hands all over her body she felt her body start to shake. “Negan…”

“You almost there?” Negan firmly wrapped his arm around her waist, urging her hips over his again and again. Negan’s mouth was over her neck and he grunted against her flesh when she nodded. “Me too.”

Her cries filled the air and Negan groaned against her neck while her body clenched around him when he got her to another orgasm. Continuing to help her movements over him, Negan grunted against her body and winched when he felt his body locking up.

“I’m going to cum,” Negan felt her tugging at his hair and his mouth met hers. “Do you need me to pull out?”

“Only if you want to,” she panted meeting Negan in another kiss when she felt him locking up beneath her. His moan vibrated against her mouth as he bucked up to her again and again when his release hit him. Crying out against his mouth she could feel his body pulsating inside of her which felt amazing. After they both hit their release, she stayed still in his arms for a while and Negan’s head was resting against her chest. “Hey Negan?”

“Hey beautiful?” Negan lazily lifted his head and looked up at her with his bright eyes. There seemed to be a stressed expression over her features and he leaned into her touch while she stroked her fingers through his hair. “What’s up?”

“Are things going to change between us?” she muttered and Negan cracked a smile. “I mean like, I enjoyed our friendship we had going. You aren’t going to avoid me now, are you?”

“Fuck no. I’m an asshole, but I’m not a douchebag,” Negan snorted and he stretched enough to meet her in another kiss. The pounding sensation was still felt in her chest from her heart and she knew that she was absolutely swooning over Negan. “I wouldn’t want to fuck this up. Now that I know we have a good thing going.”

“Good,” she muttered and they stayed there for a little while longer until she finally pulled herself from him. It was uncomfortable to stand, but she did her best and got some of her clothes back on. Negan pulled his jeans back on and still somehow managed to convince her to take photos of him again after their sex. It was actually a pretty nice night and by the time he finally left, he gave her a kiss goodnight.

Shit, she had feelings for a married man and now things just felt…complicated. Although, over the next few days at work everything felt like nothing changed. Negan still brought her breakfast the next morning like they had often done with each other. In fact, Negan acted like nothing really happened between the two of them. Other than the fact he was potentially a little touchier, she found him to oddly fine.

When it was the day before she was supposed to go to Negan’s home to do the favor he asked of her, she found herself worried about it. Knowing that she slept with Negan, Y/N wasn’t sure that she would be able to face Lucille and she went to tell Negan about it.

“Oh, no. No. We shook on it,” Negan reminded her, twirling his finger in the air and his nose wrinkled. “You can’t go back on your word now.”

“I gave you my word before we slept together,” she reminded him and Negan chuckled before lowering his head toward his desk.

“And I gave you my word that nothing would change between us,” Negan lifted his gaze, his right eyebrow arching while he stared out at her. “So why don’t you trust me and realize it’s okay? I wouldn’t put you in a situation that was bad.”

“Are you sure?” she made sure that he still wanted her to come to his home to be near his wife after everything that happened. “I just don’t want to make things awkward.”

“Bring a video camera and everything will be fine,” Negan leaned forward to press a lingering kiss over the side of her face. It took her breath away when he pulled back enough to stare into her eyes.

“Do you need lights or anything…?” she watched him smirk and he shook his head. “Am I going to know what I’ll be doing?”

“I want it to be somewhat of a surprise. The only thing I need is for you to bring yourself and that camera,” Negan shrugged his shoulders and playfully nudged her chin with his fingertips. “Trust me, you’re perfect for what we need.”

After Negan pat her on the shoulder and left, she found herself still quite nervous about what was potentially going to happen. That night she went home and got everything prepared ahead of time. They had exchanged numbers after their photoshoot night together and on Saturday morning Negan sent her a text message with his address as well as a time to show up.

Part of her wanted to come up with an excuse as to why she couldn’t go, but she knew that she had made a deal with Negan. No matter what happened with them in between, she had to hold up to her side of the deal.

When she showed up to Negan and Lucille’s home, she found it to be a sweet quaint home. It wasn’t very big, but the small yellow house had its charm to it. Looking at the mailbox, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest when she saw Negan’s last name written on it with paint. Something that Y/N assumed Negan’s wife had done as an art project.

Walking up to the home, she was greeted at the door by a gorgeous woman who seemed to be prepared waiting for her. When Y/N moved up the steps, she finally got a look at Negan’s wife and suddenly felt confused as to why what happened the other night with Negan actually happened.

“You will have to forgive my husband, he had to run off and go get something,” the woman extended her hand out to Y/N and it suddenly made Y/N feel all the more awkward. She was going to be alone with Negan’s wife? “I’m Lucille.”

“Of course you are. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Y/N boasted with a half-smile taking a look over Negan’s beautiful wife. It was hard not to stare into her beautiful emerald-green eyes that had a splash of brown around the center. The way Lucille had her dark hair done looked great on her and complimented her face shape. Both Lucille and Negan were breathtakingly stunning. “I’m Y/N.”

“I have also heard all about you,” Lucille informed her with a big smile and there was something about Lucille that was incredibly welcoming.

“I doubt that,” Y/N snickered and Lucille tilted her head to the side. “I just mean, I’m new.”

“Well, if you know my husband…he talks and he talks a lot,” Lucille teased making Y/N crack a smile as Y/N slowly pulled her hand from Lucille’s delicate grasp. “So, when I say I know a lot, I mean I know a lot.”

“When you put it like that and I think about Negan, that actually sounds about right,” Y/N thought of what she knew about Negan and Lucille wasn’t wrong, Negan did talk a lot. Yet, it made her wonder what Negan had exactly said to his wife about her. “You know, Negan never did tell me what I was going to be doing for the two of you.”

“Oh, how about you come on in and we can have a drink,” Lucille offered, stepping aside from her front door, holding her hand out toward it. “We can get to know each other and when Negan gets back, we can talk to you about everything.”

“Sounds good,” Y/N agreed and stepped into the home that Negan shared with his wife. God, this was going to be hard to not get uncomfortable. After the other night, Y/N didn’t know what she should say. Negan told her that his wife and him had an open marriage, but she didn’t know if he told Lucille about what happened with them. Would Lucille really be this open and friendly about everything if that was the case? “You have a beautiful home here.”

“Well, it’s something…” Lucille looked around the living room after they took off their shoes. Some of the photos on the wall caught Y/N’s attention. Everything looked happy between Negan and Lucille. The photos were nice and everything seemed well put together. Maybe this was a bad idea coming here. After sleeping with Negan and seeing him home…his wife…everything just felt wrong. “Are you okay?”

“What?” Y/N clung tightly to her camera bag at her side and felt her heart hammering away inside of her chest. When Lucille eyed her over and reached out to touch her shoulder in a supportive grasp, Y/N cleared her throat uneasily and nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

“You got pale for a second,” Lucille stepped forward to brush Y/N’s hair out of her face and the closeness of Lucille felt somewhat odd. “Let’s go get you something to drink.”

Following Lucille into the kitchen, Y/N took a seat at the table and watched as Lucille moved through the kitchen grabbing everything she wanted to gather for them, “So Negan tells me that you are very talented. He said that you really improved a lot of things for the school.”

“It wasn’t that hard really,” Y/N explained, clasping her hands together in her lap when Lucille returned to the table with some coffee for the both of them. “The school was a bit behind on things. I was just able to help them get more with the modern times and ways of things. I’m likely just…average.”

“Oh no, I saw some of your work,” Lucille pointed out, her right eyebrow arching up when she took a sip of her own coffee. “You do have an eye for things. Negan told me you took a photoshoot of him the other day. I have to commend you for that because he’s a pain in the ass to get photos of.”

“He told me that before we started,” Y/N responded with a small laugh. “Your husband has a lot of personality.”

“Is that what we’re calling it? I just often think he’s being an asshole,” Lucille laughed making Y/N smirk at the comment. “He’s amazing in so many ways, but I think you would agree that his teasing can sometimes make him a pain in the ass.”

“Sometimes,” Y/N licked her lips, reaching for her coffee. The way Lucille was eyeing her over made Y/N clear her throat and she shifted in her chair hoping like hell that Negan would be home soon. “You know, I don’t want to be too forward…”

“I’m married to Negan, nothing surprises me,” Lucille waved Y/N on to continue when Y/N paused to take a moment.

“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,” Y/N commented on Lucille’s eye color knowing that it may have come off weird with her complimenting Negan’s wife after everything, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m drawn to them. They are very beautiful. I thought your husband had gorgeous eyes, but you…”

“It almost feels like you’re flirting with me Y/N,” Lucille’s brows arched and Y/N felt a flush of warmth flood into her cheeks making her look down. “I’m just being a little like my husband right now and teasing you. Thank you for saying that.”

There was a silence that fell between them and Lucille cleared her throat after a moment, “So what are the plans for your future? I assume you want to be a teacher doing what you are, but then Negan mentioned you wanted to build up your portfolio.”

“Well, I love teaching and helping people,” Y/N thought about her future and knew that she wasn’t even really that sure where she wanted to go with things, “but at the same time my heart always strives for more. I’m sure that sounds silly.”

“No, I find it inspiring,” Lucille muttered with a smirk when the sound of a loud car was heard outside. Lucille looked over her shoulder when she heard the sound of it turning off followed by a door opening and closing. “That’s him. You can tell by the sound of the mustang. He loves that stupid car.”

Y/N smiled and took another sip of her coffee hearing the front door open. Lifting her gaze, she watched Negan moving through the house. His dark hair was slicked back and he had on the same pair of sunglasses he was wearing the other night.

“Babe,” Lucille called out from the kitchen and when Negan looked over his shoulder, he smiled brightly upon seeing that Y/N was there. Moving into the kitchen, Negan headed to Lucille and leaned down to kiss her in a long, drawn out moment making Y/N’s feel a rush of jealousy flow through her. Why? That was senseless, this was his wife for God’s sake. “Mmm…you taste like your cigarettes.”

“Imagine that,” Negan grunted, stroking over the side of Lucille’s face before heading to the refrigerator to pull himself out a soda to drink. “Did you end up telling her what she’s here for?”

“Without you?” Lucille retorted with a laugh while Negan took a big gulp of the sugary liquid. “No, it’s much easier for you to explain something like this than it would be for me considering us girls don’t really know each other yet. Well, we’ve been introduced at this point…”

“Might as well hop right in then,” Negan set the soda down and nodded his head in the other direction. “Follow me downstairs.”

“We’re staying here?” Y/N confirmed and Negan waved her on, not really giving her much of an answered. Y/N waited for Lucille to follow them as they made their way down the stairs to Negan’s basement. There was a small entertainment area set up, but there was also a bed set up downstairs as well. Negan hopped onto the bed and curled his arms behind his head, offering up one of his big flashy smiles. “So…”

“You can’t even relax for a few minutes, can you?” Negan snickered after pulling his sunglasses from his face and he set them down on the nightstand. Lucille moved around Y/N and went to the bed to take a seat beside Negan. Negan reached out to caress his hand in over Lucille’s thigh where her sundress was slightly riding up and it drew Y/N to look down. “You know you can get comfortable.”

“What did you want me to film?” Y/N looked around finding it odd that Negan and Lucille both decided to sit on the bed instead of going over to the seating area of their basement.

“I want you to film me fucking my wife,” Negan slid his hand further up between Lucille’s legs and Y/N let out a hesitant breath followed by a confused laugh. “I like documenting my sex and it turns me on unbelievably, but…I get the feeling you would film something…impressive.”

“You want me to do what now?” Y/N snorted, her eyes looking between both Lucille and Negan. She was almost waiting for the punchline, but neither Lucille nor Negan broke. “You want me to film porn essentially?”

“I thought you said she wasn’t all that innocent,” Lucille blurt out and Y/N felt her face flush over. “I felt a sense of boldness when she told me my eyes were beautiful, but her face is entirely too red Negan. You’ve been talking about this for a while and…”

“For a while?” Y/N repeated what Lucille said and Negan let out an amused breath.

“Well, I wanted to ask you before you ever asked me of something, but when you came to me about your photos I figured it was a great opportunity to see where this went,” Negan saw Y/N swallow down and he tilted his head to the side. “We’re not shy people here. Why don’t you set up your tripod thing and get a shot of the bed that you think would be good.”

“I’m not sure that this is a good idea,” Y/N announced knowing that she had felt something toward Negan and if all they wanted her to do was film them screwing each other, she felt like this would potentially hurt her more than appease her.

“We made a deal,” Negan reminded her with a tsking sound. Thinking it over, she sighed heavily and started to set up her tripod. Looking for the best light in the basement, she realized that Negan had no curtains or blinds on his windows so the light was naturally flooding in. “Good girl.”

“She is adorable,” Y/N heard Lucille mutter while she started the camera up and could see the light flickering to tell her that she was recording. The warmth of her jealousy filled her face when Negan and Lucille began to kiss. Standing on unsteady legs, she could feel her body somewhat shaking while their kiss got more intense.

“I told you,” Negan lifted his gaze to look up at Y/N when his tongue pushed between his wife’s lips and it made Y/N look away. “You should see the way she sucks cock though. She comes off innocent, but the blowjob she gave me the other day was incredible.”

Coughing, Y/N couldn’t believe what just came out of Negan’s mouth and her reaction to it made Lucille smile. Lucille’s hand dragged down over the front of Negan’s chest and down toward his groin to caress over Negan’s body.

“I know I was supposed to wait to share her with you baby, but the other night…” Negan began making the room spin around Y/N as she listened to them. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I know baby,” Lucille hushed Negan while Negan’s mouth drew over the side of Lucille’s neck. Lucille’s eyes locked on to Y/N and Lucille raised her hand up to wiggle her finger at Y/N to suggest her move to the bed. “Come here gorgeous.”

“I am so confused right now,” Y/N alerted them, licking at her lips as Negan tugged at the strap of Lucille’s dress pulling it down enough to expose her breast. Negan dragged his tongue over Lucille’s collarbone and then lowered his lips to kiss over her chest. When his lips surrounded Lucille’s nipple, Y/N found herself drawn to it. “I thought I was filming the two of you.”

“Oh, I guess I missed the detail that I wanted you to film me fucking my wife while we also fucked you,” Negan slurred, pulling his mouth away from Lucille’s breast. A wicked smirk pressed in over Negan’s features and he teased his tongue out to twirl it around Lucille’s nipple making a soft moan fall from Lucille’s lips. Y/N’s breathing was loud while she watched Lucille stroke through Negan’s hair. Y/N was frozen, not sure where to go from there. “You know the other night you said you were open to being with another woman.”

“This is just a bit to take,” Y/N responded when Lucille reached for the bottom of Negan’s shirt he was wearing to pull it up his torso. “Is this really what you asked me to come over for?”

“I told you we had an open marriage, but you…I’ve wanted to do this with you from the moment I saw you. You can ask Lucille; I’ve wanted to bring you in with us for a long time. The other night, I just took advantage of a moment and I really fucking liked it,” Negan explained pulling back enough to help Lucille pull his shirt from his body. “It’s not just something I came up with after we slept together.”

“Is it me that turns you off of the idea?” Lucille questioned and Y/N cleared her throat knowing that she found both of them to be exceedingly attractive. “I can watch the two of you together if that makes you more comfortable.”

“No Lucille, you’re beautiful, but you have to know that,” Y/N immediately responded, her eyes surveying over Negan’s gorgeous wife. “You both are stunning.”

“As are you,” Lucille complimented Y/N and her smile expanded over her features. “Negan has been talking about you for a long time now and I also find you charming like he does. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I think the three of us could start something together if you would like. We won’t force you into it at all. If you’d rather just watch and record the two of us, that’s fine, but if you want to join, I promise you that Negan and I will take good care of you.”

“Preferably I would like you to fucking join us,” Negan inserted his opinion almost immediately after Lucille was done talking and he slid his palm down to rub over himself again. The way Y/N was looking between the two of them, Negan knew that she was almost to the point of agreeing to do it. “I can see you want to.”

“And you’re okay with this?” Y/N looked to Lucille who nodded and a nervous breath fell from Y/N’s throat. Was she really considering this after everything? Especially with taping the whole thing. “What are the rules?”

“No rules, just see where it goes,” Negan shrugged his shoulders, reaching for the belt in his pants and he began to undo it. Lucille helped him open his pants while kissing over his chest and he let out a proud exhale. Lifting his hips up, Negan pulled the material of his jeans down his body leaving him in his maroon colored boxer briefs. “You like fucking me, right?”

“Let her make her own decision honey,” Lucille hushed Negan, reaching her hand out from the bed for Y/N if she was interested. “We’ll take good care of you and stop if that’s what you need.”

Y/N’s eyes were hooked on Lucille’s green eyes and for some reason she found comfort in the way that Lucille was staring out at her. Stepping closer to the bed, Y/N accepted Lucille’s hand and heard Negan hum in approval. Swiftly, Negan got to his knees on the bed when Y/N approached the bed.

“Good girl,” Negan slurred, reaching his hand out to slide it in over the side of Y/N’s neck. The soft tug of Negan’s hand brought Y/N to his lips so he could kiss her over and over again while his other hand reached around her to palm in over her bottom. Lucille got up on her knees as well and Negan pulled his lips from Y/N’s to move in to kiss Lucille. Y/N’s heart was hammering inside of her chest with the closeness of both Negan and Lucille. When Negan pulled away from Lucille with a wet sound, Negan looked closely between both women. “Now let’s try something.”

Negan reached for both Lucille and Y/N to bring them together. A shuddering breath fell from Y/N’s throat when Lucille reached out with her slender fingers to trace over Y/N’s face. With Negan’s urgings, Y/N accepted Lucille’s kiss which was so vastly different from Negan’s. It was delicate, it was passionate and damn it, it was good.

“I fucking love it,” Negan grunted observing the two women kissing. An excited groan from Negan filled the air as the kiss deepened and Lucille’s tongue pushed forward between Y/N’s parted lips. Caressing over both of their lower backs, Negan could sense they were starting to relax and he lowered his head to kiss over the side of Y/N’s neck. Lucille reached for the bottom of Y/N’s shirt she was wearing and began to tug the material up her body, stopping at her breast area. Negan pulled back enough for her lean away so both Lucille and Negan could work together to get it from her body. “Gorgeous…”

Y/N sighed when Negan kissed over one side of her neck and Lucille peppered kisses over the other side. They both were so different in the way they did things, but both felt amazing. Lucille seemed to pay attention to things that would make Y/N respond to what they were doing and Negan just knew what he was doing. With them working together, Y/N found her body warming up quite quickly. Negan’s kisses descended down over her chest while Lucille worked her way up to kiss behind Y/N’s ear.

“I told you she was something special,” Negan muttered against Y/N’s flesh, his hands reaching around to work open the clip in in Y/N’s bra. Lucille’s fingers swiped in over Y/N’s collarbone, tracing over her body in a tender way when Negan carefully pulled the material from Y/N’s body.

“You were right,” Lucille agreed with Negan as Negan’s lips covered Y/N’s breast, teasing and flicking her nipple with his tongue before sucking softly at her flesh. “Did Negan make you feel good the other night?”

“Yeah,” Y/N panted knowing that it appeared like Lucille was perfectly okay with Negan sleeping with her the other night, but Y/N still felt a little uncomfortable considering she just met Lucille.

Negan’s hand slid between Y/N’s thighs, palming over her mound making her eyes slam shut when she felt Lucille caressing over her jawline with her soft fingertips before Lucille hummed, “Well, we’ll look to top that today.”

Lucille kissed Y/N again with her perfect, soft lips that surprisingly Y/N grew to like more and more the longer they did it. A moan escaped her throat when Negan worked his hand beneath the material of her jeans and her panties to caress his rough fingertips over her folds.

“Someone is incredibly wet,” Negan commented against Y/N’s flesh when he pulled away from her breast with a slurping sound. Managing to push his finger into Y/N’s tight entrance, he watched her gasp against Lucille’s lips and he moaned. “My cock is so hard right now. You have no idea how much this is turning me on. Don’t be afraid to touch Lucille too Y/N. She doesn’t bite…unless you ask her to.”

“Can I?” Y/N asked for permission and Lucille nodded when Y/N reached out to drag her fingertips down the side of Lucille’s neck toward her exposed breast.

Teasing her index fingers over the taut tip of the nipple made Lucille lick over her lips. Y/N tried to focus solely on Lucille for a moment, but her attention was pulled away when Negan drew a moan from her throat. Negan’s finger pumped quickly inside of Y/N, making her arch her hips in closer to him. The way he was doing it made Y/N begin to rock her hips again his caress and Negan growled loudly.

“Damn it,” Y/N cooed knowing that Negan was doing his best to affect her, but she tried to continue to touch Lucille.

Reaching for the other strap of Lucille’s dress, Y/N lowered her head in closer to kiss over Lucille’s collarbone while she lazily dragged the strap down. Getting the dress pulled down to below Lucille’s breasts made a sharp breath fall from Y/N’s throat. God, Lucille was stunning. Another involuntary moan escaped Y/N’s throat when Negan’s caress got more determined and she found it harder to stand on her shaky legs. Lucille stepped forward; her forehead pressed to Y/N’s while she kept her hands hooked over Y/N’s hips. “Negan…”

“Mhmm?” Negan lift his head to look up at the two of them and he pulled his palm from where it was hearing the gasp that followed when he pulled his finger from Y/N’s body. Lifting his fingers to his lips, Negan slid his finger into his mouth letting out a satisfied sound when he tasted Y/N against his tongue. “I love the way you taste…”

Lucille released a shocked sound when Negan quickly reached for the material of the dress that was still at her waist and he tugged it down in a hurry. It pulled Lucille closer to him when he managed to get it from her body. The way Negan ate his wife alive with his stare was something to be admired. It was clear that Negan still found Lucille to be absolutely stunning even in this situation and Y/N was in adoration of the connection the two of them still plainly had when they began to kiss again.

“Lay down,” Negan slurred when he pulled his mouth from Lucille’s to look at Y/N. Adjusting himself on the bed, he pat where he wanted Y/N to be, but when she wasn’t moving fast enough, he pulled her to the bed. The quick movements caused him to fall in over her with a chuckle while Y/N’s hands braced over his chest to keep a small distance between them. Y/N’s heart was pounding inside of her chest when Lucille reached for the material of Y/N’s pants to work them open. “I knew I’d like you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Yeah?” Y/N breathed with her eyes hooked on his. His eyes narrowed and he nodded, a wicked smirk pressing over his ridiculously handsome features. Brushing her fingers through his thick, dark hair Y/N took in the sensation of him over her. It felt nice to be in a bed and have the weight of him over her. It was different than what they had done the other night. This felt more…intimate. If that was even possible. “Me too.”

“Good,” Negan growled, hopping up to his knees again to grab a hold of Y/N’s pants to pull them from her body. He tossed the material aside and stood up from the bed, moving over toward the camera that Y/N had set up to look at it. “Get to know each other a little bit.”

“Do you know what you’re doing with that?” Y/N stammered and Negan gave her a glare when he touched something with the camera.

“I’m not going to break anything,” Negan assured her with an amused breath when Lucille laid in the bed beside Y/N. There was the fear that Negan would mess something up, but it was soon hidden away when Lucille began to kiss Y/N again. Lucille’s palm slid from the center of Y/N’s chest down her abdomen and toward the top of her panties. Lucille repeated her movements and Y/N found herself wanting to touch Lucille as well. She was enamored by Lucille and she couldn’t quite explain it.

Teasing her fingers through Lucille’s long, dark hair, Y/N leaned up to meet Lucille in another desperate kiss. Her palm slid down Lucille’s torso before sliding back up to palm in over her full breast. Knowing that Negan was watching them also added to kinkiness of all of it.

“Don’t mind me,” Negan finished what he was doing with the camera before moving to them. He reached for Y/N’s hips to grab her panties. Her hips arched up when Negan got the material down her legs. Almost immediately after, he moved for Lucille and did the same thing. Dropping down on his knees on the bottom of the bed, he crawled slowly to lower himself between Lucille’s body. The girls were still kissing, focusing on each other and Negan slid his arms under Lucille’s thighs to pull her up toward him. His mouth pressed wet kisses over the inside of Lucille’s thigh before his mouth met her core and kissed over her folds again and again. Y/N went to get up and Negan pulled his mouth away from Lucille’s body. “What are you doing?”

“What you brought me here for,” Y/N responded with a wink and a cocky expression. She deposited a small kiss over Negan’s mouth when he lifted his head enough before moving forward to the camera to pull it from the tripod. She moved to the bed and Negan let out an amused laugh before going back to what he was doing in pleasuring his wife. “I take my job seriously.”

“I like that,” Lucille panted with a whimper when Negan wiggled his head side to side while his tongue and mouth worked over her body. Y/N felt her own body on fire while she watched them together. Lucille reached down to cling to Negan’s hair while he pleasured her and the look on Lucille’s face showed how much she was truly enjoying what Negan was doing.

Never did Y/N think she would be shooting something that felt like a porn, but here she was. Even weirder was that she was part of it. Getting multiple shots of what they were doing, Y/N felt her heart pounding inside of her chest while doing it. Lucille’s chest was rising and falling heavily while Negan pleasured her and her soft cries were filling the air.

“Damn it Negan,” Lucille whimpered when Negan pulled his mouth away from her body. Lucille’s body was shaking and Negan let out a laugh full of mischief when he seductively licked over his lips. “I was almost there.”

Y/N adjusted the camera and set it back on the tripod before returning to the bed. Lowering in over Negan’s back, she deposited small kisses over the back of his neck, down his spine and stopped when she reached the top of the waistband of his boxer briefs. Sliding her fingers beneath the material she watched Negan lift his hips to help her get the material from his body when he turned on his side.

“Get on your back,” Y/N threw out an order and Negan seemed impressed with her direction when he laid down beside Lucille on the bed. “How about you take control instead of letting him have it?”

Lucille gave Y/N a wink, getting up on her knees while Y/N lowered to wrap her fingers around Negan’s solid manhood. Stroking in strong, languid movements while watching Lucille carefully straddle Negan’s shoulders made Y/N smile. The fact Lucille listened to Y/N made her feel better about this whole thing. Having some kind of power made Y/N feel like she fit in better. Negan’s palms squeezed tightly to Lucille’s hips while he lifted his head to go back to pleasuring her. Caressing over his body a few more times, Y/N enjoyed the sight before her.

“Fuck…” Negan groaned against Lucille’s flesh making Lucille cry out when Y/N took Negan into her mouth, sliding him back into her throat before dragging her tongue firmly over the underside when she pulled her head back. Y/N hollowed her cheeks and worked in unison with the stroking motions with her hand while she pleasured Negan. Eagerly, Negan’s hips bounced up to her movements and she could hear Lucille’s whimpers intensifying the more Y/N seemed to affect Negan.

Lucille’s body slouched forward after she released somewhat of a squeal and Y/N pulled her mouth from Negan’s cock with a popping sound when she noticed Lucille shaking from an orgasm that Negan clearly got out of her. Lucille pulled herself to the bed beside Negan, stretching out her slender body while she breathed heavily.

“You okay?” Negan licked his lips in a seductive sweep and when she nodded, Negan reached for Y/N to pull her up to him. Rolling, he used his weight to trap her beneath him and pinned her wrists to the bed. Negan’s mouth collided with hers and she could feel him pulling her hips up to him when he reached between them to grab a hold of his distended flesh. Smacking his hips forward, he heard Y/N cry out when he entered her and his jaw lowered with a growl falling from his lips. “You’ve been a constant source of surprise, you know that?”

Negan bounced his hips forward into hers time and time again making soft cries fall from her throat. The weight of him over her felt incredible while he hit all the right places inside of her. Negan’s gaze lifted to look at Lucille and when their eyes connected it seemed like Negan’s thrusts got sharper and harder. Winces fell from Y/N’s throat and she scratched at Negan’s shoulders hearing his moans getting louder.

“Brace yourself on your hands and knees over her Lucille,” Negan demanded pulling his hips back making Y/N cry out from the empty feeling that he left her with. Easily Negan moved them where he wanted them and when the closeness of Lucille pressed in over Y/N she licked her lips nervously. Lucille was so close to her and the warmth of her body was radiating against Y/N’s. “I think we all know I’m a little greedy.”

The smacking sound of Negan entering Lucille from behind was heard and Y/N found herself in awe of the face that Lucille was making while Negan fucked her. Reaching up to stroke over Lucille’s jawline, Y/N instinctively lifted up to kiss over Lucille’s face until her mouth met Lucille’s. The sounds of Negan’s heavy breaths were heard while Lucille rocked over her with each powerful movement Negan made behind her.

Lifting her hand, Y/N used her thumb to caress over Lucille’s clitoris while Negan thrust into Lucille’s body. When he thrust forward it would urge Lucille’s hips forward into Y/N’s caress time and time again causing her to coo out in ecstasy while both Negan and Y/N worked together.

A whine released from Lucille’s throat when Negan pulled his body from hers and tugged on Y/N’s body to bring her hips closer to him. Negan adjusted and thrust himself into Y/N again making her head drop back while Negan now took his turn fucking her.

“Do you like his big cock?” Lucille purred, her mouth vibrating against Y/N’s lips while her hand lowered to offer the same caress that Y/N had done to her previously. “He might have a big mouth, but he knows how to use his dick well.”

“Gee, thanks baby,” Negan grunted with a laugh, lowering down to press wet kisses over Lucille’s shoulder before biting at her flesh making Lucille purr when he did it.

“So good,” Y/N whimpered when Negan’s hips bucked up harder against her and the tip of his cock was hitting her G-spot in a way that made her cry out. Lucille’s soft fingertips aided in the caress of Y/N’s small bundle of nerves while the husband and wife were drawing her incredibly close to an amazing orgasm.

“You’re almost there, aren’t you sweetheart?” Lucille quickened her caress and Negan rolled his hips faster against Y/N. Lucille’s mouth hovered over Y/N’s when Y/N felt her body tensing up. There was a liquid warmth building inside of her and she whimpered into Lucille’s mouth when Lucille began to kiss her. Y/N’s orgasm hit her hard as Negan continued to fuck her through it, enjoying the contractions that her body did around him. She was undoubtedly loud when she came, but both Lucille and Negan seemed to enjoy it. “Negan made such a good choice with you.”

“I sure as fuck did,” Negan grunted, pulling his body from Y/N’s to enter Lucille again while reaching for her hair to pull her back against him while he fucked her. Negan’s eyes were hooked on Y/N while she attempted to catch her breath. Watching Negan kissing over Lucille’s neck while he had a firm hold on her throat was almost an art piece in itself. The way their bodies moved together was beautiful and Y/N found herself lucky that she got to experience and watch this.

“Negan,” Lucille’s soft cries filled the air and Y/N could see Lucille’s body twitching revealing that she had just hit an orgasm herself and a cocky laugh came from Negan. Pulling his length from Lucille’s body Negan watched her fall forward on her hands on the bed. Her breathing was loud and he reached down to caress over his pulsating cock that was ready for a release itself. “Shit.”

“You like my big mouth,” Negan reached out to smack over Lucille’s bottom and wiggled his finger to get Y/N to come to him when he moved to the edge of the bed. “Come here beautiful.”

Weakly, Y/N lifted from the bed and slid to the bottom of it. Negan reached for her head and brushed his fingers in over the back of her neck leading her to take him into her mouth again. Lapping at Negan’s body with her tongue, Y/N felt Lucille moving in beside her and Negan reached for Lucille to pull her in closer to his cock.

“Share ladies,” Negan pulled his cock from Y/N’s mouth and led it to Lucille’s lips. His head fell back, his eyes closing tightly while he smiled when Lucille took him into her mouth. Lucille sucked over his tip and Y/N pressed wet kisses over Negan’s shaft. Negan grasped at both of them, caressing over their necks while they took turns taking him into their mouths. When Negan’s abdomen started to twitch, Lucille pumped her hand harder over his shaft and his moans got louder. “Fuck…”

Y/N’s eyes closed when the first line of Negan’s release hit the back of her throat and she worked to swallow down what he had to offer while his hips bucked to her through his orgasm. When his body stopped shaking, Y/N pulled her mouth from his body and licked at her lips.

“Fucking hell…” Negan’s raspy voice was even deeper when he saw Lucille reach for Y/N to kiss her to get the taste of Negan’s release from Y/N’s mouth and Negan smiled arrogantly. “I think we could make this a thing…that is if you both liked it.”

Negan stroked his fingers over both of their faces and he lowered down to kiss both of them before laying between them on the bed. Lucille laid over his chest kissing over it and Negan had his nose nuzzled up against the side of Y/N’s neck.

“I’m open to it,” Lucille announced with a wink when Y/N’s eyes met hers and it made Y/N bite into her bottom lip.

“Well, since we’re all about favors…I’ll be okay with it as long as when we do our next photoshoot together…you bring her with you,” Y/N muttered and Negan laughed against the side of her neck before kissing softly over it.

“I think we can work that out,” Negan turned his head to meet Lucille in another kiss. Minutes passed and they laid together in the bed before Negan lifted his head to look at the camera that they still had set up. “That…that is going to be one hell of a video.”

[parvulous-writings]

Medbay magic // Angela Ziegler (Mercy) x Reader

Request:    Ello, It's me,Ya bor. So I wanted to request a lil' something- Can we get a one shot where Angela (Mercy, for those of yall that don't know (: )nurses the reader back to health, but ends up falling for the reader with all the time they spend together? Then she's super confused about her feelings and doesn't know what to do about it, and she's too scared to tell the reader, but... turns out the reader has always kinda liked Angela too, and they confess to Angela-And they all live happily ever after- 😭🤌No but fr ily bor ❤

Requested by: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker​​

Summary: The reader and Doctor Ziegler develop feelings for each other :)

Warnings: N/A

Words: 1.3K

Notes: I would like to thank one of my old classmates for the word soup conversation :) My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

You had been in the medical bay for nearly a week now. It wasn’t so bad, you supposed, you were being looked after well enough. You were frequently seen by several different doctors, one whom you greatly preferred over the others. Your favourite doctor was none other than Angela Ziegler, the best medic on the force. This wasn’t just your opinion either, this was just a common fact that everyone accepted. Under her care you had been nursed back from near death to almost perfect health. You swore on your own life that she was magic, it was like nothing you had ever seen. That wasn’t the only magic she used though, you were sure of it. She had managed to work her way into your heart as well, and you held her higher than any other. 

During your time in the medbay, you had several deep conversations with Angela, when there wasn’t all that much for her to do, and she needed something to keep her mind busy. Most of the time they started as nonsense words that she would respond to fondly- word soup, she dubbed it. It was mostly obscure facts or some line of thought that didn’t make much sense.  Angela’s personal favourite conversation was one from when you were half sedated due to the pain of your wounds, and you started spouting drivel about Sciron- an old figure in Greek mythology, who would ask passers by to help him was his feet.  When they knelt before him, he would suddenly give them a kick over the cliff into the sea, where the victim's body was devoured by a huge monstrous sea turtle which used to swim under the rocks. How you remembered about such an obscure figure in common knowledge Ziegler didn’t know, but your words were even stranger.  “What if the turtle was Sciron’s brother?” You posed, staring up at the ceiling as Angela patted down your bed, making sure you were comfortable. She laughed quietly at the absurd idea and shook her head slowly.  “As interesting as the theory is, I do not think that that is what the Greeks were striving for when telling that tale...”  “But why else would he feed the turtle, well, people?”  “I do not know- but there are many instances of strange stories such as this, yes?”  “I s’pose so..” You mumbled, pursing your lips in thought. “But like it could be his half brother, right? Cause that would explain-”  “Quiet down now, you need rest, not stress over fiction turtles and the men who feed them.” 

Why was this Angela’s most fondly remembered conversation? Purely because of it’s ridiculousness. It wasn’t often that such strange topics popped up; no matter what Captain Amari would have had people believe.  Plus you didn’t remember it, and thus she could use it to entertain you in future.

Soon enough, Angela was conflicted as she walked to deliver you the news of your discharge from the medical bay. She was happy for you; she understood how frustrating it can be to be cooped up in one place for any prolonged amount of time. But she was almost... Melancholy, beneath that joy. With you leaving the medbay, she was unsure when she’d get to see you properly next. She didn’t get much free time when off the field or out of the medbay. Most of that free time was spent taking care of herself and her mental health, and was often only late at night. She wanted to spend more time with you so badly, that it made her heart practically ache from the thought of not seeing you for an extended amount of time. She had become enamoured with you, as unprofessional as that was.  As she approached your bed, clipboard in hand, she took a deep breath. She forced a wide smile onto her angelic features, and cleared her throat to capture your attention when she got close enough.  “Any news, Doc?” You ask with a small smile, to which she nods.  “Yes, actually. You’ve finally been deemed fit to leave the med bay.” At this information you looked rather happy, and Angela couldn’t fault you for such a feeling. 

As you started to sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed, Ziegler also moved round to offer you some help should you require it. Your legs are a little weak after staying in bed for so long, so you are a little wobbly  when you first get to your feet, but you don’t fall over, which is a very good sign in Angela’s eyes. “Thank you, Angela...” You smile at her, referring to everything she had done for you during your time in the medical ward.  “Bitte.” She replied, quite curtly. “Before you go, actually, there’s a couple of things I’d like to talk to you about...” Your brows furrow as she keeps talking.  “Is... Is something wrong?”  “No, no, not at all.” Angela assured you, understanding why you may be anxious about her words- usually when doctors or medical practitioners say something like that it’s never really good. “Far from it, actually.” This put your mind partially at ease, but not by much. She tried to give you what was an encouraging smile, but all it really managed to do was set your heart a-fluttering. Angela cleared her throat quietly.  “So- it may seem a little bit out of the blue for me to say something like this, I am well aware.” She started, trying to keep herself calm as she started to open up a little bit. “During your time under my care, I have... Grown rather fond of you; attached even.” With every word that passed her lips, you found yourself more and more awestruck. You silence seemed to unnerve Ziegler, causing her nerves to skyrocket. She remained outwardly calm, though. She didn’t know what to add to what she had said to improve it or make it less awkward, so she just stood there, tapping her fingers anxiously against the others. 

“Really?” Is all you can think to ask, your voice laced with an incredulous wonder that sounded closely akin to adoration. You would have asked if she were joking, but you knew very well that Angela wouldn’t joke about something like this. “I...” You trailed off, trying to think of how to phrase your next sentence adequately. “I’m rather fond of you too.” You settled to using her own words to describe your feelings. The look on Angela’s face told you that she probably didn’t think she’d get this far. “Oh...” She seemed at loss for words. 

You both stood their for a moment, trying to think of what to say to each other in light of these revelations. After about a minute or so, you broke the silence. “So.. Would you want to get a coffee, or tea sometime?” Your words seemed to break Angela out of a daze, and she gave you a rather large smile.  “Ah, yes, that would be lovely... Tea, and maybe some chocolates? I can bring some Swiss chocolate... It’s the best.” She told you with a quiet chuckle, and you nodded eagerly.  “That sounds good to me... What about time- when are you free?”  Angela had to think for a moment, “I’m off shift next Thursday.. What about five o’clock?” She asks, and you nod happily. “Wonderful!” She chuckled. “I shall see you then... I think you should get going before Morrison starts complaining that I’m keeping you back unnecessarily... I do believe he wishes to see you.” She informed, the fondness starting to show through in her voice.  You nod in gratitude.  “Thanks, Angela... Could I call you Angie, now?” You asked, rather cheekily. Angela rolled her eyes a little bit at the question.  “We’ll see. Now get going.” She hit your shoulder playfully, before moving away to fill in the paperwork about you being discharged. She gave you a final wave, and blew you a kiss as you walked out. 

[arieswonjin]

open seams; full

pairings: ham wonjin x femme!reader

genre: fluff, angst, friends to lovers au 

word count: 8.6k

navigation: teaser 

warnings: alcohol and intoxication, use of sharp objects, minor injury

song inspo: all my love | playlist 

a/n: this is for a fic exchange with @cravitywriters' first batch of members :> apologies this came a bit late >

masterlist | request here! | how to request |

it took close to forever to find the perfect spot for the shop of your dreams. in this city and in these times, it took a lot of guts to even decide to run one. 

the rent uptown was crazy expensive and the high-fashion atmosphere dimmed the charm of your minimalist garments. the spots downtown were cheap, yes, but you had to deal with creaky and moldy floors, noisy air conditioning, and rude neighbors. it was a definite no-go. but after months and months, with pages of crossed-out vacancy lists and even deeper sighs, you found just the perfect home for your handmade pieces.

the small studio was a few minutes away from the main street and the subway station. the road it was on was lined with street art on both sides, there was decent foot-traffic, and a good number of cars passing by—a haven for independent brands. plus, the landlady who lived upstairs was a middle-aged woman who, as it seemed, made it a habit to bring you her homemade rice cakes almost daily. you liked to think that this, along with the reasonable rent, was a bonus from fate. 

you found the place on a random walk with a close friend. it was his idea—wonjin said you needed some fresh air after only having fruitless searches for weeks. at least that’s what you thought he meant by “go home and shower, at least,” and “c’mon, let’s go on a walk before you start to have nightmares about landlords.” who would’ve thought you’d find this place when you weren’t even looking? 

the meager amount you saved up from commissions and tips while you took up different part-time jobs and sold custom pieces was enough to pay for a few months as you got your new brand established. the place wasn’t much—just enough to hold five racks of clothes, a tiny storage room, a display area, a bit of walking space—and you had to rely on your old equipment for now, but you already loved the shop dearly because it was your own. 

it took a lot of heart, a lot of meals consisting of just ramyeon, a lot of needle pricks…

and a very willing model.

“ow!” a cry of pain followed by a trail of childish laughter from the same person echoed off of the walls of your empty shop. it was almost evening and the clear glass door let in a ray of orange sunlight, shining over rolls of fabric, spools of thread, and several sketches that littered your shop’s floor. it was the typical scene: you with your eyebrows furrowed in focus and your noisy yet undoubtedly helpful friend wonjin with unsewn fabric and pins over his own clothes as he stood on a small platform. even your bickering was part of the routine you’ve established the past few weeks as you prepared for opening day. seven days left!

“i’m sorry!” you withdrew the hand holding the tiny culprit, looking closely at the spot on wonjin’s shoulder which you pricked. “i promise i’ll be done in a quick minute. maybe if you put your phone down for a while…” you muttered the last part, meaning for him to hear it anyway. inside, you were thankful that he has been patient with you as you did your thing, but you just couldn’t resist an opportunity to jab at ham wonjin with your remarks. after such, he was nearly impossible to shut up.

but that’s just wonjin being wonjin and that’s what always made you want him around. 

“y/n, i came to be your volunteer model, not a pin cushion.” he jabbed back and teased you, waiting for the reaction he now memorized and repeatedly coaxed out of you just for kicks: a roll of the eyes followed by a swing of the hand aimed at him which you never followed through with. nonetheless, he fake-dodged on instinct and laughed, as you knew he would.   

“stay still or i’ll prick you intentionally, wonjin.” 

“‘young male found pricked to death by owner of up-and-coming clothing brand…’ imagine that headline.” he trailed off and now stayed still as he chatted you up. you appreciated this, the light and familiar company as you worked to enter the unfamiliar territory that is your new business. you shook your head at his nonsense and smiled to yourself. 

it was only when you locked the final stitch that evening that you leaned back and realized just how long your day has been—your eyes and back were sore, your hands were all tight and in need of a break, and your head refused to recall your designs anymore. your body was telling you to wrap the day up. 

“what do you want?” you sighed and opened one of your eyes after a satisfying stretch. wonjin was standing in front of you with his palms extended and an unreadable expression on his face. what did he want? 

“your hands. hurry.” a momentary pause with your mind almost going blank. my hands?  “i want to try that thing you do with your knuckles when you’re done with work.” he finally stepped forward and grabbed both of your hands, making you take a few seconds to comprehend what he meant. it must be the exhaustion that’s making your brain function slower than it usually does. or maybe it’s this proximity. 

“you mean cracking them?” you asked as you looked up at him from your seat. 

“mhmm.” wonjin started to crack your knuckles one by one, commenting on how loud the sound from each finger was. this was an absurd scene, really, but you couldn’t deny how amusing it was to watch him and how such a simple gesture relieved a good amount of your tiredness. 

“tsk.” it was all you could say after he cracked the last pinky, his hands lingering on yours a few seconds after. “okay, that’s enough, you’re going to injure me,” you grunted as you stood up and walked past him towards the storage room, hiding a now pink face. 

“opening day is in exactly a week.” wonjin thought aloud as he started to pick up the clutter on the floor. “that’s still a lot of time, you know. why don’t you take tomorrow off? go to a sauna or something.” he offered the idea even though he knew so, so well that you were going to be fast to turn it down. it was too bad that you had no plans of pausing until opening day. maybe then he would’ve found the time to show you a little something he was working on. it was worth a shot, he thought. i’ll give it a few more days. 

“no can do. i still have to work on jungmo’s piece. you’re bringing him over tomorrow, right?”

“if the free barbecue for us is still up… then, yes.” wonjin beamed, proud that he landed a good deal after convincing one of your friends to model for you. honestly, you believed the effort he’s been exerting for you and your shop was worth far more than a barbecue treat, but he insisted that he would accept nothing more than that. 

ham wonjin always had a knack for being thoughtful without being obvious about it and it has indeed grown on you although you were quite slow to admit it to yourself. 

“i’ll tell him to brace for the pin pricks.” 

“pft.” you rolled your eyes at him and started to help clear out the shop before both of you got ready to leave. “let’s get coffee before walking home? it’s on me.” with a casual ruffle of wonjin’s hair, a silent thanks from you to him, met with a subsequent shake of his head to rearrange it, you closed the shop up with an unexpectedly light heart.

it was just another one out of many nights you spent walking home to the same neighborhood and it went by as it always did—seeing the bold words and symbols spray-painted on the walls of the street you were in, hearing him tell you about how cool they looked at night to which you responded as enthusiastically, pointing out newer and smaller details every time you walked past them—yet it never got old or boring.

silently, you wished the next seven days would unfold perfectly, just like how things were then and there in that small city street. 

help, he’s been talking about you since we sat down. come quickly.

a text message from jungmo pulled you out of your sleepy train of thought as you stood on the crowded subway, three stops away from your destination: to a breakfast cafe where you planned to meet with wonjin and jungmo before working on the piece for your new model. 

from a face that was barely awake came a blush that’s been finding its way there quite often recently. you’ve been trying to send away your suspicions that you were growing fonder and fonder of wonjin and your attempts would usually be successful if not for text messages like this. a fraction of the blame for your confusion goes to your friends for their persistent hints and teases. they may as well be just that: meaningless hints and empty teases stemming from the constant bickering that your friends found cute and endearing. the fact that you and wonjin were almost joined at the hip for the past few months didn’t help. neither did his clinginess which you suddenly start to look for on days he was too busy with his own matters to drop by. 

the casual offers to walk you home, the few seconds he spends wordless and silent when you get too close as you worked on his pieces, or the smallest gestures to help you out with the shop were all subjected to your overthinking. but nevermind all that. you didn’t have plans of telling anyone about this anyway. a short reply would suffice for now.

bleh. i’m almost there.

your face glowed as you got closer and closer to the cafe. no one would have been able to tell that you were stressing over a million little things about the imminent opening day. for reasons you couldn’t put a finger on, you wanted to at least overhear a hint of what wonjin was saying about you before you sat down and kept a straight face in front of him again. anything; the smallest compliment, the most mundane story about how you spent time together, anything that could fuel you up for the next few days knowing that thoughts of you lived in his head too. all that after denying to acknowledge any feelings. way to be fickle, y/n, you thought to yourself. 

entering the packed and brightly-decorated cafe, you approached the two friends who’ve already ordered their meals. huh, thanks a lot. from behind the booth table they picked out, you slowed down, planning on intentionally not making your presence known until you were almost seated. 

your face dropped the very second their conversation reached earshot. 

“it’s beginning to become burdensome. i don’t think we even match. it’s never going to happen. just a few more days and i swear—i’m done,” you heard this in wonjin’s unmistakable voice, with a tone of annoyance that went straight through your chest. 

“i see.” jungmo nodded and the two continued digging into their breakfast, still unaware of your arrival. 

you took this as an opportunity to turn your heels and retrace your steps to the subway station, sending jungmo a quick text before you wallowed in your scattered thoughts. you felt the heat radiating from your face but now for a much different reason.

if there were two things you hated the most in the world, it was being lied to and unnecessarily troubling the people you cared about. it felt worse hearing both from wonjin’s mouth. this was the same person who’s been there for you for months while you built the shop from the ground up, the same person who’s seemingly been helping you unconditionally. you were at a loss about who to blame: yourself for not noticing how much your shop was demanding from him or wonjin for keeping all this pent-up annoyance behind your back.

last night, when you imagined how the rest of your week would pan out, you didn’t expect to see yourself inside a packed subway train, desperately keeping your tears from pouring. 

“that’s weird. y/n just said she went directly to the shop instead. urgent.” jungmo perked up at your sudden message, eyes on his phone as he ate the last slice of his pancake.

“what? y/n didn’t text me anything after she said she was a station away. she would’ve told me.” wonjin looked around the cafe, sure that jungmo was mistaken and half-expecting to see you meters away from their table. “i already ordered for her though…”

“she’s asking me to come by quickly so she can finish fitting the pieces. it won’t take until lunch, right?” jungmo’s question went unnoticed as a now preoccupied wonjin kept his eyes on the untouched plate in front of him. 

“so stubborn, tsk. really can’t get her hands off her work. one of these days she’s going to get sick. and you know she lives alone so—”

“dude. now that we’re back to y/n, you’re chattering again. just finish your food so i can go get fitted.” 

wonjin sighed and furrowed his eyebrows, inwardly worried about your sudden change of plans and ready to nag at you for not giving yourself even the slightest break. what is she doing not giving herself even half an hour for breakfast? this fool.

there was barely any room for the sound of the shop’s door chimes, which signaled the two’s arrival, with wonjin’s trail of nags starting before he was even entirely inside. hearing all this from the storage room where you were distracting yourself by reorganizing your fabrics, you let out a deep sigh and hoped your eyes did not look too red and swollen before you stepped out. this is stupid, you thought. you had no time for delays but your emotions were getting the best of you. if you were going to finish your work, it had to be without him.

“y/n, at this rate you’re going to tire yourself out and get sick on opening day. we agreed last night you’d be at the cafe to at least stuff yourself with this before the long day,” wonjin took no breaths in between, placing the paper bag containing your forgotten breakfast on top of your work counter. “then suddenly you say you aren’t going anymore. did the racks arrive early? why did you suddenly—“ 

“thanks for coming, jungmo.” you greeted the older male, cutting off wonjin's monologue without even looking at him. jungmo just nodded and shrugged, obviously used to the dynamic between his two friends who were in front of him. he simply sat down on one of the wooden stools and started keeping himself busy with his phone. you felt bad that he had to be caught in the middle of this, but between confronting your feelings and doing what had to be done for the shop, you were sure you were much more ready to do the latter. “this won’t take that long, don’t worry.”

“did you hear me just now…? sit down and eat first, y/n.” wonjin started to sense that something was up with the way you paced around busily as you got your materials ready and purposely avoided his eyes.    

“i thought i texted you not to come,” a muttered statement was finally sent his way—a weak acknowledgment of his presence—but you were still looking at anything but him. from your peripheral vision, you saw wonjin getting his phone out to check what you meant. 

“huh… i didn’t see that…” his usual speaking volume started to drop, a sign that you knew meant he was genuinely puzzled.

“now that you have…” you kept a straight face and mustered the heart to look at him, trying to act as nonchalant as you could even though you knew that the next words out of your mouth were not you. “go home. or somewhere else, at least… spare yourself the burden of being stuck here again.”

“what are you talking about?” he started to laugh to try and lighten up the rising tension, a habit of his. is this some kind of prank? he thought to himself and searched your expression for some giveaways. “is jungmo replacing me?” when he saw that you weren’t laughing along, he paused.  

“no time for questions, okay, wonjin? it’s time to go, i need to get to work and this isn’t helping. please go.” it took everything in you to keep yourself calm and collected and you didn’t know how many more questions you could dodge. why am i being so emotional, damn it.

“what do you mean ‘go?’” wonjin tried to laugh again, albeit a softer, less confident one. “this shop’s practically home... did something happen on the way here?” 

“go as in...you don’t need to drop by anymore. i’m almost done with everything.” a total lie.

“i know you’ll do well by yourself, y/n, but you know i don’t mind helping. it’s not a big deal.” wonjin reassured, stepping forward as if this would prove his point. to your annoyance, he went on to bring your takeout breakfast out of its bag and proceeded to prepare the food on your work counter, all the while nagging at you for being the stubborn person you were. “it must be the hunger, y/n. come here and eat.”

you, on the other hand, kept your distance and contained a painful laugh. it was almost funny comparing what you heard earlier to the words he was saying right now. what was he playing at?  “it must be tiring, huh? just go, okay? you don’t need to do all this. no one’s forcing you. i’ll be fine here.” 

he sighed. “just tell me what’s going on. pushing me away like this when i don’t know what i’ve done? you’re being a bit hurtful right now,” wonjin’s last strands of patience were barely keeping him together, matching your slowly rising temper.

“trust me, i’ve heard worse. go.” your gaze pierced through him for a good few seconds until jungmo, who’s been slowly realizing that things were getting serious, pulled wonjin away before he blurted things out in frustration. the way wonjin looked right now was as if his questions were visibly jumping out of him. there’s never been an exchange this intense between the two of you no matter how much you bickered and everyone in the room knew it. 

reaching his limit, wonjin shook free from jungmo and briskly walked out of the shop, leaving a strange silence after the chimes died down. 

the next couple of days consisted of wonjin keeping himself from going back to the shop and you trying to dodge jungmo’s probing questions as you worked. even after countless attempts to rethink what he did that day, he was still clueless about what prompted you to deny any help or to avoid him entirely. the years of friendship you had meant that he knew you were not the type of person to dismiss others without any good reason. 

but his pride went head to head with his worry and this led him to spend consecutive late nights with unsent messages, apologies written and deleted, calls not made, and questions not asked. after all, what was he going to apologize for? if anything, he believed he deserved an apology for being sent away without explanations. with this thought, wonjin would pull on his hair in frustration because of how childish he sounded in his head. 

just when i thought things were going well between us. just when he was ready to tell you how, with your passion and perseverance and, he admitted, maybe a bit of your friends’ little remarks on how you two looked good together, you’ve slowly made a friend fall for you in the span of the past few months. 

“okay, get this. there’ll be new collections every month and they’ll all be themed after the zodiacs. but i wonder if i can come up with pieces that fast? or how about i do quarterly collections? maybe that’ll be better, releasing three designs altogether…i just wonder if i can keep that up for the whole year. would anyone even show up to buy my stuff? what do you think? god, i don’t even have a name for my shop yet.” 

several months ago, when the shop still seemed out of reach and it felt impossible to settle on a place to start your business, you would cheer yourself up by picturing the ideal: your shop all decked and ready, packed with people shopping for your new collections, appreciating the hours of hard work that went into each handmade piece. with every spurt of excitement, wonjin would just be the constant cheerleader and voice of reason, both supporting you and bringing you back down to reality.

“why are you looking at me like that, ham wonjin?” you turned to get a view of the boy seated beside you on the bus stop, an uncharacteristically wordless wonjin, his head slightly tilted away with a downward gaze at you, an amused look on his face. the day was almost coming to an end, a full day spent walking around town, lists of units for rent on hand.  

“nothing. i think that’s a good idea.” he smiled and looked up to think. “but it sounds like you’ll be wearing yourself out. what about doing monthly collections when you find more help?” 

“you’ve got a point.” you considered this but you were nonetheless excited about the potential this little shop holds.  “anyway, let’s go. i still have a lot of open seams to sew.” 

“open seams.” wonjin repeated.

“yeah, the unfinished pieces. remember? the shop? me? sewing? clothes?” you teased, acting out every word like a mime. 

“no, dummy. open seams. the name of your shop. it sounds catchy doesn’t it?” it was wonjin’s turn to get excited and your turn to find amusement in his enthusiasm. “didn’t you say open seams look unfinished but that’s what gives them the edge?” 

“wow, i can’t believe you actually listen to me blabber about seams.” 

wonjin whined at this, defending himself and saying that he always listened. you said the new name, again and again, testing out how it felt to say and how it sounded. “open seams. it does sound great...” 

that hug out of nowhere and the strong tug at his hand pulling him towards the bus that just stopped in front of the both of you was all he could remember as he walked home that night. the very next morning after that encounter, he set off to a certain street art-lined street with your shop in mind after finding an online listing for a vacancy that was just the perfect price, the perfect size, and on the perfect street that would soon be housing your pieces of art. 

pulling his mind back to the present and attempting to keep it from wandering to you again, he made himself busy with the only other thing he had going on: the last few days of a low-paying multimedia job he impulsively committed to and is now regretting. he stretched in his chair, his phone kept in place with his cheek and shoulder.

“how’s that media job you were talking about the other day? still a burden?” jungmo’s calls have been the only thing keeping wonjin in touch with what’s going on in the shop. even if he didn’t ask, the reliable hyung kept him up to date with the last set of preps and your occasional breakdowns. 

“it’s a definite no-match. i’ve got three days left and i just want to make a run for it.” wonjin looked at all the uninteresting piles of manuals haphazardly stacked on his home desk, a reflection of how much he despised working this job from home. truth be told, he would much rather be working with you downtown. “how are things?”

“you mean, how’s y/n?” 

“you know what i mean.” 

“she’s out to eat with yuna right now after refusing a hundred times. we’re staying with her until tonight, though, so don’t worry.”

“alright.” wonjin sighed, feeling powerless that he was of no help to ease your load yet still refusing to do anything about it. 

“just talk to each other, for god’s sake! you both sound terrible-” jungmo shouted through the phone, pleading to his younger friend. “do you even know how many times i tried to ask y/n about what happened between you two? seventy-seven times, wonjin. seventy-seven times. yes, i counted-”

“i’m hanging up.” wonjin tossed the phone away making it land somewhere among the stack of items on his messy desk. a few seconds after he rudely ended the call, a text message from a persistent jungmo. dinner still on tonight. you have to come with us, dude. 

you didn’t know what came over you. there were only three days left until your shop’s opening day. there were still several patterns to cut up, clothing pieces that needed to be sewn together, and more people to invite for your brand to gain traction, yet you were here at a nearby barbecue place, giving in to your friends’ requests for you to let loose for a few hours with a couple of shots of alcohol, good food, and conversations that held until several hours after midnight. 

anyone would’ve noticed how tense you’ve become in a span of a few days—from the tired yet happy y/n who’s excited to get to work every morning despite the imminent deadline to an irritable, downcast y/n who wouldn’t keep their eyes and ears off of their work and nothing else. 

and yes, everyone knew the reason behind this sudden change in work attitude.  it was an open secret: the sudden and unexplainable drift between you and wonjin, previously an inseparable pair of friends, and both of your unwillingness to patch it up. your friends decided that mentioning it to either of you was just like nudging a rock on the side of a cliff, especially with an important occasion happening soon. 

for wonjin, there was a mix of pride and confusion. why were you suddenly pushing him away when he was closer to you than he ever was? he never left your side as you built your shop from the ground up only for you to passive-aggressively refuse any further help a week before opening day. he deserved a proper explanation, but he would almost worry himself into sleep deprivation thinking about how important opening day was to you. it was either he asked you directly and tip the delicate mind balance you had as you got things in order or he could wait it out and almost go crazy at the mere thought of not hearing a peep from you. 

for you, it was pure disappointment. in yourself or him, you were not sure. all you wanted was to stay sane for the time being and you told yourself that this was only possible if you didn’t see or hear him anywhere near you. you’ve heard how he truly felt, you heard it crystal clear, so there was nothing else to talk about. after all, if he saw you as a burden, why push any further? 

so alas, there you were, with a small group of friends and a whole night to spend without any of your handmade pieces or clothed mannequins.  

slow down? you repeated in your head once you heard jungmo and yuna’s invitation to tonight’s mini get-together. slowing down just made you remember how dull the days have been ever since you sent wonjin away that morning. stupid, talkative, playful wonjin who gave you the best, most comforting company. slowing down made you miss him, but you weren’t going to say that out loud. 

this was probably what the sober you would have thought, but your slurred speech and buffering mind, now clouded with the two bottles of alcohol you’ve consumed that night, begged to differ. you were now in a state of zero filter and total unawareness of the faces swimming around you.

“burdensome? tsk. so i was burdensome to him, huh?” you laughed bitterly and roughly downed another shot of soju, using the back of your hand to trap any spills from your lips. “idiot. wonjin is an idiot. if you didn’t want to stay close to me, just tell me, damn it!” you shouted, repeatedly stomping your feet on the floor like a child.

your incoherent sentences, flushed cheeks, and unfocused eyes were what welcomed wonjin when he arrived at your table, half-jogging. jungmo, who has been carefully watching you since you asked for your second bottle, gave him an apologetic look and shrugged, gesturing to the empty bottles in front of you. “look, i know you refused to come and eat dinner with us but i had to call you. you live the closest to y/n.” 

wonjin shook his head and laughed, half in disbelief and half in amusement. and here he thought he was going to spend his night cooped up with work to get you out of his head. “has she been calling me names all night?” 

“you have no idea. good luck.” he patted wonjin’s back and watched as he pulled you up from your seat, 

“let’s go, y/n. you can continue talking shit about me on the way home, okay?” wonjin’s tone was gentle as if he was testing the waters. the last thing he wanted was for you to lash out at him then and there. first, he needed to get you home. you two can talk some other time. hopefully.

“who’s this purple-haired clown? why is your hair purple like wonjin’s? are you his twin? is that idiot your twin?” it was a surprise you even managed to get those words out in between hiccups. 

“idiot? you’re the idiot, getting drunk like this.” wonjin muttered under his breath. he still struggled to pull you up and support your body weight but what he found was that the best way to keep you conscious was to indulge you in conversation.

 and that he did as he walked you to the usual bus stop where you two always sat and waited for the last trip.

“…if you see him around, tell him this for me.” you started, unknowingly leaning your head on his shoulder, giving into the heaviness you felt around your temples. in your drunken state, you genuinely thought you were talking to a pure stranger. 

“hmm?” wonjin looked down at you, softening as he saw you with your eyes tightly shut as you repressed nausea. “what should i tell him?  

“tell him—tell him i need to know how to forget him… he needs to tell me— how to do that…even for just a few days… okay? you’ll tell him?” there was no way you could have stopped your subconscious from pouring out. it was the truth told as it was: all you wanted was to get through the next few days without the hassle of whatever emptiness it was that you felt.  

“why don’t you tell him yourself?” wonjin let his head lean against yours, sighing the millionth sigh between the both of you since a few days ago. “and what if he doesn’t know how to do that either, with you?” 

“why do you have so many questions?!”  you grabbed his arm and shook it non-stop, making him laugh at how ridiculous you looked and sounded with your unfocused eyes and the non-sense you were spouting. “don’t ask me questions because i don’t know, okay?! i just miss ham wonjin!”

wonjin froze for a few seconds, simply blinking at you and at the words you were saying over and over again. when he finally recovered, he calmed you down and leaned your head on his shoulder again. “he says he feels the same way.”

a head-splitting ache woke you up at ten in the morning the next day, only two days before the most awaited opening day. the last thing you remembered from last night was being halfway through your second bottle of soju and your friends jungmo, yuna, and serim telling you to slow down. it didn’t really take a lot to guess that you didn’t listen to them. 

after a few slow minutes of debating whether or not you can get up and get on with your day in one piece, you eventually pulled your blankets off of you and figured that you'd live with the consequences of last night’s choices. besides, you couldn’t skip a crucial preparation day. after sending your three friends a quick thank-you message for getting you home safely, your phone lit up again with a message. you did a double-take at the new notification that just arrived; it was a text message from wonjin. are you up?

three days of silence and all he asks me is if i’m up? you grunted, refused to open the message in question, and, seeing no point in dwelling, went on with the rest of your routine. you didn’t know what else you wanted to read from that text, but you sure weren’t expecting to see such a casual question after literally not having heard a peep from each other for days. if you were being honest, you half-expected him to arrive at dinner last night. 

but whatever that text meant, you didn’t want to use your head, which at the moment felt like it weighs a ton, to think about it. 

your forehead in your hands as you navigate around your now-sunlit studio apartment, you hoped that the last-minute invitations, quality checks, and tidying up would keep you busy enough to forget the fact that, last night, you could’ve sworn you dreamt of wonjin and how he sat beside you on a bus ride home. 

“and there she is, fighting through the aftermath of alcohol.” yuna greeted loudly and met you halfway as you approached your shop on foot. last night, the three offered to be your manpower for the next few days which is why she, jungmo, and serim were all waiting for you out on the sidewalk, eyes squinted because of the sunlight and their mild hangovers. 

“do we get some kind of prize that we arrived earlier than you?” serim asked as the four of you entered. 

“coffee, as always.” this was met by a cheer from jungmo who wasted no time in attending to the shop decor which was still packed in boxes. “don’t worry, guys. if my shop does well, it’s meat for everyone.” 

“it’s settled then.” yuna clapped and got everyone’s attention. “okay, team. to your usual tasks. serim, light fixtures. jungmo, decor. me, storage. y/n, create.” 

“jungmo’s taller, why do i get the light fixtures?” 

you smiled sincerely for the first time in a few days, touched that they’re taking time off from their days to get the shop together, to get you together. “oh, and guys, sorry about last night. feel free to curse at me. i must’ve been so heavy.” you sat down in front of your work counter, fighting back a cringe. after numerous nights out, you just knew they had a treasure chest full of embarrassing stories to haunt you with. you were thankful no one else was there to see you wiped out. 

“hmm, you must’ve.” a knowing smile from a mischievous serim to jungmo and yuna. “but we wouldn’t know. right, guys?”

“yeah, y/n. i don’t know, i brought serim to his home.” yuna shared, trying to sound innocent but failing as she shouted from the storage room. 

“and i went home alone because i wasn’t drunk.” jungmo followed without missing a single beat. now you were utterly confused. did these three just call a cab on you or did you walk yourself home? you looked at the three of them one by one, their questionable smiling faces met with the most puzzled look on your face. 

“all i know is…” jungmo started, keeping himself from breaking out in laughter before he could get his words out.  “you called him a purple-haired idiot. that’s it.” 

“what?!” you stood up abruptly, making your chair tumble back with a thud. 

and just then, you started to recall bits and pieces of last night, starting from the vague bus ride that, until a few moments ago, you thought was just a dream. what in the world did i do now?

“y/n, i’ll help you up, okay? we’re almost at our stop.” wonjin pulled you up from your bus seat where you’ve been half-asleep on his shoulder. putting his arms around you as he guided you down the vehicle and onto the sidewalk, he repeatedly apologized to the bus driver for the delay. wonjin could only nod and laugh at the friendly reply from the middle-aged man who shouted ‘take your girlfriend home safely!’ he silently wondered how sober y/n would have reacted to such a remark. 

just as the two of you stepped down, a splattering against the ground made both of you stop in your tracks. 

“good heavens,” wonjin muttered as he rubbed your back and looked at the part of his shoes that was now covered in whatever it was you had for dinner a while ago. “you know, y/n, i wonder if you’d remember this once you pass by this mess tomorrow morning. looks like you enjoyed your barbecue too much.” wonjin joked, still not halting the backrubs as you were doubled over with your hands on your knees. 

when you looked up at him after that spiel, all you could do was smile apologetically and giggle, eyes half-open. “let’s go home. i’m tired.”

“are you all done? you’re not going to throw up on my shirt or anything?” wonjin pulled you away from the side of the road, leading you to the direction of your apartment. “you have to tell me your apartment password so you can go in, okay?”

“you have to guess it. you’re never going to guess it!” you pulled away from his hold and ran around him in circles, getting a thrill from how light you started to feel after letting some of the alcohol out. 

jogging to catch up with you, wonjin shouted, “y/n, slow down you’re gonna hurt yourself! aish. this child.” 

“i threw up on him.” you said out loud to no one in particular. the text from this morning, your friend’s teasing smiles, and the blurry, dream-like memories on the bus meant that wonjin did make it to dinner last night just when you were in no state of mind to remember when exactly he arrived. “i threw up on him outside my home... jungmo, it was you who called him, wasn’t it?! guys?!”

the laughter that filled the room after that and the whines of a terrified jungmo who wanted none of your punches were muffled by the sound of the door chimes tingling, signaling someone’s arrival. you almost snapped your neck as you hurried to see who it was. 

“hi, dear.” instead of a particular young male, you were met with the sight of the friendly landlady from upstairs, a plate of her usual handmade treats on hand, and a welcoming smile on her face. you mentally flicked yourself for involuntarily expecting someone else. “rice cakes?” 

“oh, auntie. it’s you.” the relief in your tone made your friends snicker. “thank you, you didn’t have to...” 

“why so surprised, dear? were you expecting someone?” she asked, waving at the set of friends bustling away inside the shop with the same annoying smiles on their faces. “oh that’s right. where’s that lovely boy, wonjin?”

“lovely boy,” serim whispered and bit back a laugh, earning him a glare from you. 

“he can’t make it today, auntie,” you explained shortly, politely getting the plate of rice cakes from her hands. 

“that’s too bad. it’s almost opening day.” she looked around the shop, satisfied by how it’s starting to look compared to the bare and boring unit she used to clean every day. “you worked your magic in this place. it feels just like yesterday when he was begging me to keep this small spot reserved for a day.”

“what do you mean?” 

“wonjin, that boy! remember? he was here the day before both of you passed by to finally rent it? ”

“i- i didn’t know that, auntie.” 

all this time, you thought you both found the place by chance and now here you were finding out that he was the one who made sure open seams happened. the walk you took that day wasn’t such a random one after all. what was up with the universe today and its not-so-subtle way of telling you to let wonjin back into your mind and your life? him taking you home last night and now this; whatever happened to the burdensome y/n he was talking about? 

“aaaand, another secret’s out.” yuna walked out of the storage room, a box of spools in hand. she beamed at the landlady who took a few seconds to figure out what she just revealed. 

“oh. oops.” the landlady sheepishly turned back and started to push the door open, ready to take her leave. “i think that’s my cue. see you around, dear.”

“see you around, auntie!” your three friends greeted her when she was out of the shop. they turned their heads back to you who had nothing but a blank stare and mouth agape, the gears almost visibly turning inside your head. 

“so now will you tell us what’s been going on between you two? it’s just weird knowing about all that and seeing you guys refuse to make up. both of you aren’t looking so good either, you know?” serim asked after giving you a few seconds to think. 

you sighed, leaning on the side of the table for support. “that day at the breakfast cafe, he said all this was getting kind of heavy and burdensome. that he couldn’t wait for it to end.” you decided to tell them once and for all about how you felt. “and that we were never going to happen.”

“y/n. you’re so stupid. ow!” jungmo concluded, earning him a smack to both shoulders by serim and yuna. “he was talking about that job he had! if you stayed longer and ate with us, you would’ve heard how smitten he was even if he wouldn’t admit it. i can see right through him.” jungmo explained in a high-pitched tone that reflected how frustrated he has been with the two of you. “now that i think about it, you’re both stupid.”

smitten? you took in everything jungmo just said and remembered every word you blurted out when you sent wonjin away that morning. finding out that he had another job all while helping you out with the shop for the past few months made you regret how you acted even more. it frustrated you that you’ve been too preoccupied to even ask about him. this is all on me. why did i act so rashly?  “i’m so stupid.”

“are we just now finally finding out that this was all a big misunderstanding?” yuna piped up, breaking the silence. 

“and are you telling me that it almost took a fallout for you to finally see the feelings you had for each other? these kids,” serim added, raising both hands in defeat.

different variations of ‘i knew it’ and ‘it’s about time’ as well as ‘idiots’ filled the shop as you were still frozen in place. you knew you had to apologize to wonjin, but where were you even going to start? with that encounter at the cafe? with how bad you felt for invalidating his heart to help you and rudely pushing him away? with everything you think you blurted out on that drunk night? or maybe how you actually felt for him?

can you meet me here in 30 minutes?

it took wonjin less than a heartbeat to reply to your message asking about where he was. even though you were the one who was out of it last night, he couldn’t help but worry over his own impulses. if you remembered everything he told you while he thought you were drunk and asleep, he had no choice but to explain it to you while you were fully-sober. and the thought of finally confronting you about everything made the usually-confident and talkative wonjin tongue-tied. 

“hey.” you turned the corner of the small side-street where wonjin asked to meet and found him leaning against one of the street art-ridden walls, waiting for you. it was a spot near your shop but one that you didn’t pass by as frequently. an odd choice of a meeting place, but you figured he wanted to talk to you without your friends overhearing. 

“here of all places?” you struck up a conversation albeit awkwardly, buying yourself time before the long apology.

he pointed to the wall behind him, looking at it up and down. “i was supposed to show you this sooner since they finished it early but…”

behind him was a small piece of street art. open seams, it said in the colors you usually used for your handmade pieces and in the style you designed for your simple logo. you softened not only at the thought that this shop was becoming a reality but also at how wonjin did this despite your missteps the past few days. at this point, you no longer knew if you were even worthy of him and his thoughtfulness.

“...you were supposed to show me this sooner but i was terrible to you, and i’m sorry. you didn’t deserve that. after everything... i don’t know if saying thank you would even be enough. that morning-” 

“you look like you just lost a million won, y/n.” his reply cut you off, earning him a roll of your eyes to which he merely responded with a playful laugh. “auntie told you, huh? i knew i couldn’t trust her and her rice cakes.” wonjin joked again, now more relaxed than he was moments ago now that things are starting to look up between the both of you. if there was anything that he needed for comfort the past few days, it was the presence that he’s gotten so used to. 

“i’ve had quite the morning, you know.” you told him as you eased into the conversation. “finding out you were the one who brought me home last night, finding out i wouldn’t have gotten the unit if not for you, and finding out i was mad at you over something i misunderstood. all this time.” 

what proceeded was a detailed apology you practiced in your head beforehand. wonjin just laughed at how fast you were talking and he didn’t forget to give the occasional side comments to reassure you that he was still the old, talkative, and witty ham wonjin that you didn’t have to act differently around. you knew in yourself that this was one of the things you missed badly. 

the weight you felt in your chest turned lighter as every bit of misunderstanding cleared out.  “...all that because i didn’t even stop to think that one morning. i’m sorry…” 

he delayed his response for a while, suddenly making you worry that he had more to be upset about. but he eventually nodded and waved away any remaining tension. “apology accepted.” wonjin ruffled your hair just like you always did with his. “we’re good. but do you remember anything else?” 

“except for the fact that i threw up on your shoes, no, i don’t remember doing anything else.”  

“the shoes were one thing.” he scratched his head and talked in such a low volume and such high speed  you couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying just to tease you. “but not even me telling you i liked you while you were all leaning on my shoulder at the bus and that whole speech i said about falling for you after i tucked you in?” 

“what? you said what when i was tucked in?!” you leaned in to hear him, only catching remnants of what you suspected was a confession. 

“ah, too bad. it was a one-time subscription, so you’d have to pay to hear it again.” he shrugged.

“you little- just tell me! it’s not like it’ll be any more embarrassing than me pouring out my stomach contents on the sidewalk for everyone to see.” you stepped forward wanting to hear more from him but he shook his head and refused to tell you anything further. the mischievous smile on his face as he paced around to avoid your probing weirdly made your heart beat faster. “fine. i was planning to tell you about something important but i guess you don’t want to hear it-”

“i don’t need to. i already know your apartment password is my birthday.” he stopped pacing and expectantly searched your face for confirmation despite not needing it. “right, y/n? 032201?” he repeated the numbers again and again just to coax a reaction out of you, his favorite thing to do. 

“wh- what are you talking about?” holy-.  if there were any more of this kind of surprises today, you didn’t know how much more of the shock you could take, but it seems like wonjin was enjoying just watching you all flustered. “i opened it myself-”

“y/n, you were too drunk to even see the keypad last night. when i tried my luck, we got in. 032201? who else could that be?” 

you were about to protest but as you were stuttering your poorly-made excuses, wonjin took your hand and slowly pulled you into a tight hug, all the while laughing at how ridiculous each of your statements was starting to sound. after the initial embarrassment passed, you realized there really was really nothing to hide anymore. 

“are you done?” wonjin asked, still not letting go of his hold on you which you returned willingly, hugging him tightly and hiding your face in his chest. “because to put it simply, i like you.”

you sighed in content, feeling all the exhaustion from the past few days  seep out of you with just those three words. “i like you, too, ham wonjin.”  

“and one more thing…” you added. “jungmo told me you were smitten.”

it was wonjin’s turn to get flustered and defensive, you pulled your face away and leaned back to watch as he cursed at jungmo for describing him in such a way. wonjin trailed off in his usual rants while you looked up at him with no plans of stopping his lovable nonsense. 

opening day

it was noontime on opening day: the ribbons have been cut, your mini-opening show went smoothly, friends have visited and selected their favorite pieces, and most of all, you have led the toast that officially marked the start of this journey. it felt utterly surreal. 

“all i can say is…” wonjin put his arm around you as you stood beside the racks of clothing you spent months perfecting. “it was certainly worth the hundreds of pinpricks.” 

“well, then. if you want more…” you pinched his side and laughed as he dodged you and made his way to your three other friends who were also admiring the work they did for the shop. 

a few nights ago, on a nighttime walk home in this same neighborhood, you wished for a perfect week to unfold in front of you. and maybe it did; just not in the way you anticipated, but exactly the way you wished it would end.

[sserpente]

Pastel Blue (Chapter 5)

Synopsis: After his lucky escape, the Tesseract takes Loki on new adventures–but unfortunately, his journeys through space do not go unnoticed and he soon ends up on TVA’s radar. Working for them, albeit reluctantly, he keeps finding himself in the company of a young woman, Jess, who works in the linguistics department and who has a truly strange effect on him. Smitten by her confidence and smugness, he seeks her presence like a bee hunting for honey and lets her wreak havoc in his heart without really knowing why. But he is determined to find out. He means to escape this godforsaken place anyway.  

Find all chapters on my masterlist! (Unfortunately, Tumblr will not display my recent posts if I add a link.)

It almost felt like no time at all. Had one whole week really passed already since Loki had accommodated himself in her unit? In the books, the characters who had to share a room usually fell in love by the end of the story or, even better, they had some mind-blowing sex and then ended up together, and yet all she had done was play with her vibrator like it would be taken away from her the next morning for good.

But unlike any of the mischief and the chaos she had expected, Loki was a rather pleasant roommate. He was respectful, calm, tidy… and she doubted he had ever entered her room without her permission. Unless, of course, he had done so in her absence.

Jess gnashed her teeth, her eyes fixed on her brown hair in the mirror. Ariana had found this lovely youth magazine in the nineties yesterday, one that had already been thrown in the bin. The only reason she had taken it was because the cover showed a blue phone booth with Paul McGann as the Eighth Doctor on the cover. Jess had spent all morning skimming through it, reading the headline article as well as chuckling about the gossip and the ads—even though some of them were rather sexist.

At some point, she found a double page on fancy hairstyles for women and now struggled to copy one of the elegant braids to spice up her own hair. Thus far, she had been failing miserably, flinching with a grunt when Loki opened the bathroom door. He tilted his head upon seeing her sitting on the edge of her bathtub with her tongue sticking out a little and her fingers entangled in her brown hair.

“Yes?”

“I meant to get washed but clearly, you are occupied in here.”

Jess huffed, flinging the hair tie into the sink. “I’ve been trying to braid my hair. Like this, look!” She pointed at the magazine. The woman in the picture looked like it had taken her five minutes to create this look, and they’d had the audacity to rate this style ‘quick and easy’.

Loki chuckled. “You look like a scarecrow.”

“Why, thank you.” She rolled her eyes. “You can take your shower, I give up on this.” She said.

His sigh surprised her. “Allow me.”

“What?” Jess’ reply was all but a chirp but Loki had already approached her and fetched the hair tie from the sink. The braid was indeed a simple one, and as he stood behind her to part her hair for her, he had to refrain from letting her know just how soft it felt.

He had often braided his mother’s hair as a child. It was an activity that had calmed him down whenever Thor and his friends had made fun of how fond he was of books and preferred to use his mind and tricks rather than raw strength in play fights. The hand movements he was so familiar with that he had no need to look. Instead, he met Jess’ eyes in the mirror. She swallowed, and for a brief moment, he found himself remembering the whimpers coming from her bedroom at night.

Quickly, he averted his gaze again, parting her hair to reveal the earrings dangling down her earlobes. They shimmered in the artificial light of the bathroom. He had never seen her without them, come to think of it.

“They are moonstones.” She said when she noticed his glance. His finger brushed against her left earring once more, making it swing a little. “M got them for me on my birthday. The stone is said to soothe emotional instability and stress, and to stabilise emotions.” After all, her own parents were unlikely to buy her birthday presents anymore. “He asked me to always wear them… that they would protect me from evil.”

Loki hummed. He was familiar with the healing properties of moonstones. They were rather common on Asgard too. Only it made him wonder why Mobius would be so keen on her keeping them on at all times.

“Do you truly believe that?”

She shrugged. “I choose to.”

His fingertips brushed against the soft skin of her neck and he sucked in a deep breath. Jess’ lips parted. She was indeed a beautiful woman, was she not? Loki pondered if she was aware of just how alluring she was. How delectable she sounded when she came undone, believing so naïvely that he was unable to hear the fun she had with herself.

Lust flared up in his blue eyes, his fingers caressing her neck once more, and him braiding her hair all of a sudden turning into a subtle excuse to touch her over and over, to explore what their physical connection meant to him. Then it hit him. The inexplicable tension between them was indeed sexual too.

It was perfect, was it not? If Jess desired him, in whatever way she imagined to… then perhaps he could make use of her attraction, especially as this meant that he too would get to blatantly act on those carnal needs simmering right beneath the surface of his very core. He could not possibly trust her beyond that.

“There.” He announced, finishing up the braid by tying the loose ends together with her hair tie. She looked exactly like the model in the magazine now—only Loki had done an even better job. Jess swallowed once more, wishing, subconsciously, that he would touch her one last time. When he stepped away from her instead, she came to suppress a disappointed whimper.

“M is, um… you’ll be sent to a different unit next week.” She said, breaking the oddly peaceful but palpable silence between them.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. Reese recovered well, I mean, that’s what M told me. He will take over after the party.”

“What party?”

Jess stood, clutching the sink behind her for support—Loki did not fail to notice how flustered she was now, almost as if him braiding her hair had intensified whatever it was she felt for him. It had been a long time since he had last had to think this way upon meeting someone of the opposite sex, let alone a mortal woman.

“Dave is celebrating his anniversary this weekend. It’s a big deal here at the TVA, much more important than birthdays. M didn’t tell you about it, then.” She concluded.

Loki shook his head slowly and decided to give her a smirk. Her reaction, blood biting at her cheeks, pleased him. “I’d dare say I am not invited to your silly festivities.”

“M is thinking about it. About inviting you, I mean. And I guess you could… use a break from all… this. Besides, apart from security, everyone will be drunk by midnight. Lots of snacking and dancing…”

Loki rolled his eyes. He had already hated these kinds of parties back on Asgard. Fandral would shamelessly flirt with three women at once, Volstagg would stuff himself into a coma and Thor would brag with his hammer on the dance floor, making the women believe they could lift it as they danced with him.

If anything, however, this absurd anniversary was the perfect opportunity for him to let his charm play and gain her trust. Jess sighed, prompting him to look up and meet her eyes. She stood, approaching him with the hint of a smile both scornful and compassionate at the same time… and then wrapped her arms around him.

Loki tensed up, his arms hanging by his side motionlessly. Physical affection was the last thing he had expected in a place like this, even from Jess. Perhaps, gaining her trust would be easier than he thought it would be, and still, part of him was unable to deny how much he enjoyed knowing that someone at least pretended to care, as peculiar as she was. Her touch felt like someone had set his entire body ablaze.

“Listen, I know you’ve been through shit and I know you hate everyone right now, including me. M may or may not have red on his ledger but you’re a part of the team now. You’re one of us. If we don’t stand up for each other, then who will?”

“I never agreed on becoming a part of the team.” Loki responded darkly.

Jess moved away from him a little, her smile faltering. “Me neither.”

~*~

“You’ll have to explain that to me one more time. When your father, I mean, Odin, fell into the Odinsleep—whatever the hell that means—your mother gave you the throne?”

Loki hummed. That was the part of the story Thor had left out upon telling S.H.I.E.L.D. and all the other silly secret organisations run by mortals how dangerous and menacing his adoptive brother was.

Jess was flicking through one of the thickest books he had ever seen. It was a collection of astronomical anomalies written down in a language not even Loki could decipher and it was so big she had to stand upright rather than sit at her desk to read the top of the pages. She gazed at him from the corner of her eyes.

“Thor was no longer on Asgard and Mother refused to leave Odin’s side. I was the only one left fit to rule—only Thor’s idiotic friends did not accept me as their king.”

“Let me guess… they pretended you were the villain so you became the villain?” Nibbling on her candy necklace, she bit off a pearl with a loud crack. Loki flinched a little. It was short of a miracle she had not chipped any of her teeth yet.

“I saw my chance,” he said. “So I took it. I never saw myself as the villain. And I never lied. I was the rightful king of Asgard.”

Jess bent over to read the small print. She was still wearing the plait Loki had braided into her hair. It swayed from side to side a bit as it fell over her shoulder, revealing her neck. Her scent was almost unnerving—unnerving in a most ferocious and desirable way. Intoxicating. He had sensed it when she had hugged him already and now, part of him was greedy to press her close to him once more and feel her body against his. He suppressed a growl. He should be enjoying his quest to tiptoe nearer and nearer to getting this ridiculous collar off his neck and make this mortal woman swoon over him—not the other way around. He was the one in control. He had to be.

So he stepped closer, his tread so quiet Jess never heard him approach her.

“So you came to like it. The power of the throne?” She said without looking up. Loki nodded, oblivious to the fact she could not see him. She cursed under her breath when his arm brushed against hers, eliciting a barely noticeable smirk from him. It was amusing how quickly he could read her reactions to him now.

The Trickster swallowed. “I meant to prove myself to the man who never saw me as a potential heir in the first place.”

“How did Thanos find you?” Jess choked out when he moved in closer, demanding all of her attention to himself. It almost scared him how fast she forgot about the massive book on her desk, her eyes fixed on his face as if it bore the answer to all of her questions. Loki’s expression hardened nonetheless, regardless of how much the urge to taste her lips rose within him.

“How much do you know?”

“I know what M told me… that you were his ally and he helped you take over Earth in exchange for the Tesseract.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. “Then you know nothing.” Her glance found his lips now too. He was standing close enough for his warm breath to ghost over her mouth, her heart beating more rapidly with every passing second.

Fuck. Her office was being monitored. Sucking in a deep breath, she moved away from him and closed the thick book on her desk shut. “It’s late. We should head to the party.” She cleared her throat. “You can, um… wait for me here so I can get changed. Give me five.”

Loki nodded, taken by surprise until he noticed her glancing at the chunky surveillance camera in the corner of the room. Ah… there it was. The fear or shame or both to be caught being involved with him. Loki gnashed his teeth when she rushed past him, fleeing from the scene. That, at least, was something he was familiar with.

He remained in the office, almost as if glued to the spot, for a while longer before he made his way towards the cafeteria where the festivities would take place. Jess would catch up—besides, so he had to admit, he was indeed looking forward to seeing their faces when he joined the ridiculous little party and what it might give him to work with.

“Really, that’s all? That’s almost a little disappointing.” He heard Dave say in the distance, presumably a few yards away from him, his voice ricocheting through the dark hallway.

Loki stopped dead in his tracks. As silent as a mouse, he leaned against the wall, melted into it almost, and slowed down his breathing.

“Yes…” Another voice that Loki identified as Mobius’, replied. “We did take a risk with them but I must admit, I too almost expected a little… more. I thought one of them might… feel something, you know—a connection or recognition, maybe.” Loki could hear his suit ruffle as he shrugged. “Well, timelines can be unpredictable. We do know that better than anyone else.”

Connection. Recognition? For some peculiar reason, he was certain the pair were speaking about him. Him and… Jess? Who else could they possibly mean? His gut feeling, however, told him that he should, seidr or not, get rid of the security footage in Jess’ office as soon as possible. Whatever it was Mobius wanted to see unfolding between them, he was not going to grant him the satisfaction of presenting it to him on a silver platter.

Fortunately enough, they were too far away to hear him, he realised that once more when Jess’ footsteps echoed through the hallway. He knew it was her without even looking behind himself and yet, found his heart skipping a beat when she touched his arm.

“Ready? You know they might give you suspicious looks as soon as you… what are you doing?”

Loki gave her a disarming smile. “Nothing. Shall we?”

~*~

A/N: Put your swords up, put ‘em up; it’s going down.

[hammeredalcoholic]

Saw requests are open and screamed in excitement! Request for the jojo's parts 1-4 first time with their s/o? Or first kiss?

lets do first time lol. sexy times is my middle name 

rated: 18+/nsfw

Jonathan Joestar 

It was your wedding night, obviously. And Jonathan was worried beyond belief. 

“I’m afraid that I’ll hurt you, dear. I don’t want to start our marriage off like that.” He mumbled, playing with his hands as he sat on the large bed next to you. You smiled at him, batting your eyelashes. “Jonathan, I’m not a porcelain doll. I’m sure I can handle whatever you have to offer.” You reassured him, leaning in to give him a kiss. 

“Plus, a little pain might make it all the more pleasurable.” You whispered against his lips. His hands twitched, and his eyes became lidded. “Is that how it is?” 

Despite that, Jonathan still took his time to make sure you were ready for him, caressing every part of your body. He mumbled everything he loved about you while you were pinned down and fucked slowly and thoroughly. 

Joseph Joestar

waiting for marriage? pssh. Joseph Joestar had zero patience. 

You and Joseph had been in a “secret relationship” for the entire duration of his hamon training. Things between the two of you varied, but you had never gone past heavy petting and mutual masturbation. But tonight, something was different. 

At dinner, Joseph wasn’t his normal talkative self. He seemed to be contemplating something the whole time, not bothering to spare anyone at the table a glance. Both you and Caesar shared a look. 

As soon as it was over, you all retired to your individual rooms, and you decided it was a good time for a shower. You stepped into the bathroom, stripped down, and got in when the water was hot. No more than 5 minutes into it, Joseph had practically thrown the door off it’s hinges. 

“Joseph?! What the hell-” He stripped his clothes faster than you could finish your sentence, and got in the shower with you. “Baby, I can’t wait any longer.” You gave him a questioning look. “I want to make love to you.” 

That’s all it took, and Joseph had you pinned against the shower wall, your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you.

Jotaro Kujo 

being bombarded with enemy stand users increases stress, y’know. 

They were in Egypt. Luxor to be exact. Finally, a comfortable bed. 

Only one problem. Joseph decided it would be a good idea to give Jotaro and you a suite, with one large bed. Walking into the room, he sighed. “Good grief.” You followed behind him, looking at what caused him to say that. 

“Well, y’know, we are in a relationship, JoJo.” You said, walking towards the bed and setting your small bag of luggage on top. He rolled his eyes, “I know, I know. But the old man could at least give us time.” You smiled at him, your eyes drifting from his face to down his body. 

“Maybe we should use this as an opportunity.” His eyebrows jumped at that, and he studied your face. “I’m sure we could both use the stress relief. It’s been awhile since we’ve gotten each other off.” You stated, blinking slowly. 

“If that’s what we’re going to do, then I want to go all the way.” Jotaro said suddenly, staring down at you intently, waiting for your reaction. You smirked up at him. “That’s fine by me.” 

Not soon after that, your clothes were discarded, and Jotaro had you pinned to the bed, legs over his shoulders. 

Josuke Higashikata

It had been all planned out. Josuke was going to take you out to lunch, then go for some light shopping, getting ice cream, and then heading back to his place for a movie. Tomoko was gone for the weekend, so it was the perfect time. 

Everything went swimmingly- Lunch was delicious thanks to Tonio, shopping was fun, both you and him picking out the most absurd items you could find. Ice cream was a great way to cool off while walking back to his house. It was about half way through the movie, you and Josuke weren’t even trying to pay attention. 

You had been pinned beneath him in your blanket fort, shirt pulled up and shorts down. Josuke had taken his shirt off, and his pants were pulled down just enough. He was kissing everywhere he could on you, mumbling how good you felt. 

That was when Okuyasu and Koichi had decided it would be a great idea to pay Josuke a visit because he hadn’t responded to their texts all day. 

[obutsuwrites]

Can I request gn/nb with a female body reader who is a new teacher and everyone seems to like them because they are so laid back, it pisses Aizawa off and he becomes abit of a handsy bully. Thank you!

i like the way u think anon! love me some nb representation!! apologies for the late response + this fic kinda,,, got away from me fjwlaja hope you still enjoy regardless! 💕 warnings: dubcon, drugging, foreplay, hickies, mild petplay ??, mild choking, penetrative sex, somnophilia, smut, vaginal fingering, yandere elements word count: 2,131   

masterlist | tipjar | twitter | commission info | ask box is open for requests~!

Aizawa Shota’s eyes grew dark; thick spit piled at the back of his throat. He hated hated hated another hand -- another finger wrapped around his lover. They weren’t obvious to his affection. His strong hands latched around soft flesh. Their body was already soiled with the unworthy, why bother to be gentle? Besides, Aizawa saw the red imprints as proof of ownership. His welts were gifts. A bonding of their bodies. The Erasure Hero still ached for them. For their acknowledgement of him. Of his touches.

And yet, the teacher relented. A smile would tug at their lips. “Aizawa, your hand must’ve slipped!” It made Aizawa sick. There was this black, cancerous part of him. Carnivorous and hungry for their misery. The feeling was a hole buried deep within his chest. Maybe settled over his heart. Aizawa knew what it craved. This inner abyss wanted only one thing; his little naive teacher crying and begging. Begging for Aizawa to stop. The Erasure Hero’s mind wandered with fantasies of them; red-faced and wanton. Their nativey reduced, his fellow teacher kicked from their pedestal. 

The Erasure Hero continued to watch Yamada and his little naive teacher. Yamada was absorbed in a story; his movements animated and lively. Occasionally, the blond brushed against them. In return, his lover flashed a meek grin.

“Aizawa, is something wrong?” Their voice was soft, if not carrying a note of concern. 

Aizawa wore a scowl, “No, nothing at all. I was lost in thought.” 

Unphased by his expression, the teacher offered a light shrug and turned their attention to Yamada. To be so naive and carefree was unflattering for a hero. In Aizawa’s opinion, a hero should conduct themselves as a hero; not some laid back wretch. Frankly, it was embarrassing. Their attitude -- their cheerful grins -- were disgusting.

His upper lip curled into a snarl. ‘Tonight, you learn a lesson.’

�� ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °

It was a starless night; the sky inky black and endless. Returning home, the teacher slipped off their shoes. Cool wood met their soles. Comforting. Their walk home somehow felt suffocating tonight. The trees blended together into unnatural shapes. Light footsteps sounded behind them, but everytime the teacher looked, no one was there. They attributed the noises to wind weaving through branches. This thought soothed the teacher as they prepared dinner. It was a solitary act. Quiet. Peaceful. The silence allowed for their mind to unravel and decompress. Their tiny kitchen was home, if not a reprieve from their coworker. 

At first, the teacher believed Aizawa’s touches were accidental; the hero wasn’t known for friendliness -- but this wasn’t friendly. His fingers were calloused iron snakes that gripped their wrist like a shackle. His touch reminded them of a villain; cold and harsh. Originally, the teacher believed Aizawa was trying to be welcoming. They told themselves the Erasure Hero was awkward -- closeness probably wasn’t something he practiced. And yet, he chose them as his introduction to comradarty, but Aizawa didn’t relent. If anything, exercising peeks of a grin seemed to spur more abuse. Perhaps their feigned ignorance annoyed him. Scorning an already vengeful god. 

They pushed down the thought, instead opting to focus on a steamy bowl of rice. Food served as a good distraction. A distraction Aizawa exploited. In moments like this, he almost felt sorry for them. 

Almost. 

‘It’s too bad you deserve this, isn’t it?’

The Erasure Hero stood outside his lover’s apartment; lusty eyes glued to their open window. An aroma of spices and steam wafted through the night air. For a moment, Aizawa’s anger dissipated. He could knock on their door, he could apologize, he could stop… But he won’t. In his heart, Aizawa knows his little teacher needs this. 

He watched the teacher while they ate and found himself mildly annoyed by their blissful ignorance. They weren’t stupid; his little teacher at least suspected someone trailing them, and yet here they sat, munching down dinner. ‘Stupid little bunny. I know you want this.’ 

Food was the perfect cure. Hot, delicious goodness that melted away any ick. However, their body was still sticky with the feeling of Aizawa. No matter how long the shower, no matter how hot -- the teacher couldn’t completely erase Aizawa’s touches. Their skin was ruined. Ruined by slender, rough fingers. Ruined by a hero. 

Truthfully, they tried to avoid these thoughts. The harsh reality that someone they looked up to -- someone they were ecstatic to work alongside. Aizawa made their stomach knot into nauseating twists. The hero was nothing more than a shadow; more villain than man. Tears gathered at their eyes. It hurt to think of a coworker like this -- much less their idol. If only they allowed themselves a moment of mourning, but they sucked up the tears with a gulp and finished dinner. 

The object of Aizawa’s affections moved around the kitchen rhythmically. They cleaned and scrubbed, but their typical grin was misplaced. Instead a sharp line formed. Aizawa wasn’t used to this expression -- it was sour and sad and he hated it. He wanted them on their knees, face stained with broken sobs. Their body marred from manhandling. Pleading with the Erasure Hero; ‘Please master, I’m sorry,’ drool stringing from their lips. His coworker reduced to whimpering and squirming as his fingers invaded every hole. 

Aizawa’s cock twitched at the thought… but he shouldn’t let his mind wander. He needed to watch -- needed to observe them. The hero convinced himself it was for a logical purpose; once they slept, he could strike. Aizawa had mulled it over many times before. Eventually, he would chase the thought away as absurd. Kidnapping your coworker and exercising every little fantasy was criminal. Thoughts only a villain had. But they relented, changing shape into actions of harsh grabs. These brutal acts only sated him for so long. Minor diversions. His true meal was before him now; a naive little teacher. 

Keeping the excitement at bay, Aizawa licked his lips. It was almost painful to wait like this. Aizawa was a starving predator eyeing wounded prey. He wanted them to hurry up -- ‘Hurry the fuck up. I can’t wait forever.’ The night wasn’t ethereal and he was a hero, after all. There were other… commitments. If it were possible, the Erasure Hero would waste his evening perversely watching the teacher. They were so innocent. Absolutely ignorant to the big bad that crouched outside their window. 

° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °

Their bedtime ritual was simple. Shower, sneak a snack from the fridge, and settle into a quiet movie. Something they could fall asleep too; a monotone crime documentary or a bland comedy. Deciding on a documentary, the teacher watched with lazy interest. Their eyes felt extra heavy tonight. It was a struggle to stay awake, lids droopy and body relaxed. Sleep wasn’t usually this easy, but they eased into slumber like a fool. 

To test his theory, Aizawa rapped against their bedroom window. 

‘Sleeping so secure. I should have drugged you sooner,’ the raven haired hero thinks. Planning this took time -- preparation. He memorized their floor plan. Only two exits, both usually locked. On a seldom day of rest, Aizawa talked the landlord into a key. He was a concerned boyfriend -- it was for his lover’s own good. Really, it was too easy. 

Aizawa let himself in while soft snores echoed. He wondered if they were drooling, a lewd image weaved into his mind. Aizawa’s breath caught in his throat as he crept into their bedroom. The teacher’s room was dimly lit. A simple ambient orange night light was plugged into a corner, but it did little to illustrate his surroundings. With care, Aizawa silently glided to his lover’s bed. Phone in hand, Aizawa shined a flashlight into their face. 

“No, still asleep. Or are you pretending? You wanted this,” he murmurs, breath hot against their cheeks. The teacher’s face was flustered and sweaty. Even their body wanted this -- already blushing and slick. A calloused hand brushed wet hair away from their face, the hero admiring his prize. Aizawa tested his luck by dipping his fingers underneath their shirt. Their nipples were erect, little rosebuds that were sensitive to his touch; earning a shiver in response. Honestly, a part of the hero was pleased if not aroused by this. His lover should want him, too. 

Feeling more confident, he teased their nipple. His other hand stroked their cheek, longing for tears and babbling. His touch was rewarded with spasms and squirms. The teacher’s breath was hot and ragged, like a little pup struggling with a fever. A sigh left Aizawa’s chest. Stress, anger, hatred began to melt away. The body beneath him was nothing more than a stress ball, his hands kneading their supple flesh. But the hero was unsatisfied. He wanted… more. Curiosity got the better of him, though. Aizawa trailed his hand from their chest, stopping at the waistband of their panties. He wondered how wet they were -- how needy their little cunt was for the hero. 

Carefully, Aizawa slipped a finger between their thighs, “Your panties are soaked for your master, aren’t they? Little bunny.” He knew they couldn’t respond, but saying it made it more real. Tangible. Nodding to himself, Aizawa pulled down their panties. A shiver vibrated through his lover. “Aw, my little pet is cold. Don’t worry,” he prods their slickness, “master will warm you up.”

The Erasure Hero stroked their folds; a test to be sure they wouldn’t suddenly jolt awake. Satisfied with their slumber, he plunged a finger into their steamy cunt. Their walls closed around Aizawa’s finger like a vice; snug and tight. “My, my. Look at you, all needy and ready for master.” The hero slowly massaged their moist core. His other hand now wrapped around his pulsating cock. He picked up his pace, the stimulation of their cunt having earned several muffled groans. The room was filled with a quiet orchestra of Aizawa’s labored breathing and his lover’s sloppy cunt. Noises that were like music; he could listen forever. 

Their chorus of lewdness inspired an idea. 

“Stay still,”he commands, “gonna mark you.” Aizawa’s voice is almost unrecognizable underneath all the labored breathing and guttural moans. Drool seeps out the side of Aizawa’s mouth as he leans over, breath humid against their skin. He hovers over his lover for a moment -- admiring -- until he latches onto their collarbone. Sucking, sucking, sucking. Aizawa ran his tongue over their exposed flesh; being sure to strip their skin raw. They would be branded by him… as his. A hand brushed against the hero, ‘After all that drugging, you’re still fighting back?’ Aizawa’s dry lips curled into a smile against their skin while stroking his now leaking cock. Heat expanded within the hero’s stomach; he needed to be inside them. 

Extracting his now soaked fingers and positioning them around his lover’s neck, Aizawa lined himself up with their entrance. “I hope you’re ready, little pet.” It was difficult to leverage himself into their heated core -- their body responding all too well to Aizawa’s touches. Little mewls spilling out, muscles spasming. Gently, Aizawa entered his lover. Despite the heavy drugging, the fear of being caught still dug into his chest. His thrusts were slow, deliberate. He wanted to savor this moment. ‘I want to devour you.’ 

Their pussy wrapped around him perfectly; walls clenched as if trained for him. “For a little pet, you’re doing so good.” His praises fall on deaf ears as the crest-fallen hero continues to pump into them. “Should I come inside you? You’re being so well-behaved, far less than the brat I know from work.” Aizawa preferred them like this; quiet, no smug grin plastered on. Simply obedient and wrapped around his cock. 

Aizawa’s cock hit a certain spongy area and earned a whine as his reward. Encouraged by his lover, he quickens pace. The man was desperate to siphon out every last perverse sound. “You -- ah -- you really wanna milk master’s cock, don’t you?” A part of him wished they would respond with a breathless, ‘Master please, I wanna cum!’ Instead, Aizawa settled to tighten his grip around their throat. He wanted them choking with ecstasy; the ideal punishment. The heat within his stomach was a furnace now. Fiery knots that confirmed he needed to empty his milky seed into his little pet. In a flurry of animalistic thrusts, Aizawa came with a deep groan. His fingers were still wrapped around his little teacher’s throat, pressing on their larynx. 

He looked down, sweat dripping from his brow. He took a moment to idolize his work; their body flushed, slick with sweat. Chest rising and falling erratically. Aizawa was still riding his orgasm as he used a calloused thumb to push his cum deeper inside their slimy cunt. 

“Now you’re just as filthy as me.”