#cars they'd own/what the inside of that car looks like

[furiousgoldfish]

I've noticed the other day how life is fundamentally different when living out of abuse. I had an experience of waking up in the morning, sleepily tapping over to the kitchen in my pajamas, wondering what to make for breakfast, and making a plan for the day. Completely careless and unselfconscious, thinking only about the food and what I wanted to do with my day. It hit me then how impossible every aspect of this would be, had I still been living in the abuse.

If I was still around abusers, my first thought in the morning would not be 'oh I'm so sleepy I'm gonna find something to eat', it would be 'Are they in the house, are they in the room, are they already mad at me'. I would be looking around cautiously, listening for every sound that indicates they're near me. I would be checking the clock to see if their schedule had already put them in their workplace or wherever they go, and then still peering trough the doors anxiously to see if the hallway is clear, if I can get to the kitchen. I'd be checking how I look to see if I'll be reprimanded for being in the pajamas in the common area. I'd change just to avoid the possibility. I'd be checking each item of food and wondering if it's okay to take it, or whether there's a chance I'll get yelled at or blamed for taking it. I'd be analyzing the last words and actions we exchanged to try to predict how close the abuser is from blowing up and possibly attacking me.

The rest of my day would be scheduled around avoiding them, or alternatively, being in the place where they could easily find me, because if I'm not where I'm expected to be, they might get mad. All of my activities could be stopped and prevented at moment's notice if they decided I need to be doing something for them at that moment. I could be yelled at for not doing something for them sooner, for 'making them say it'.

If I wanted to go out, I'd have to consider if this is allowed, and if they'd want me to stay inside for one reason or another. If I am outside, I'd have to worry about what's going to happen to my stuff if I'm not back whenever they're expecting me to be there, or what kind of angry state I'd find them in. It would be safest to notify them of everything I'm doing, but they might immediately call it unnecessary, stupid, offensive or otherwise inconvenient, and force me to drop it and do something for them instead. Secrecy was the only way to do things, but also risky in case some part of it turns out to be not allowed. There were never any clear rules to what is okay, it would change with their moods.

If I could hear the abuser's car parking in the driveway, I would run back inside of my room, as if it was the 'safe area', when it wasn't. It would at least take me out of their view, so they wouldn't immediately think to start at me. But if they wanted to, they could just go inside of my room and charge at me then. I would just delay being the target, putting myself out of immediate sight. Of course this also meant I couldn't leave any trace of doing anything in the home, so it wouldn't be noticeable I just ran away. Everything has to look untouched.

And then when they interacted with me, I had to make sure to not show emotion on my face, to not look overly confident or happy, to not show any fear or anxiety, to not look sad or upset, to not look angry. I had to act normal, or else. I had to try and defend my own actions and interests walking a fine line of 'trying to let them know I'm upset and unhappy about this, without setting them off and causing them to blow up at me for talking back'. And I'd be told off for this too, because 'how could I complain when people have it soo much worse and I am ungrateful for having a roof over my head'. I had to do whatever was asked out of me, and restrain from even expressing it wasn't what I wanted, for the fear of losing the roof over my head.

Unbelievable I just lived like that for many years. And now I can flop in my pajamas to the kitchen, eyes half closed, make a mess, and think of nothing but food and plans for the day, not worrying for a second that someone could target me for any move I make. I still get scared easily, but nobody attacks me anymore. I can take any item of food, for it is all mine. I can decide to go out anytime, come back anytime, no consequences. I decide what is good for me to do, and nobody else gets an input. I can think of my own interests, and disgreard what anyone else in the world could want from me, because I don't exist for their convenience, and I don't have to worry about it anymore. What I lived before feels absolutely intolerable now. Even one second of that is unsurvivable.

[secondhand-lions]

HANDS

sirenity: workman's. calloused and rough and covered in a million little marks. they have most of their nails, only missing one, and one of them is permanently split. in motion half the time and holding something for the other half.

constantine: softer than sirenity's but not by much. significantly less marks, though. he has all his nails, and keeps them cut short. nervous but not unsteady.

nora: pre-war she'd be a fan of acrylics. post-war that's not really an option. her hands were rougher in her youth (parkour, roller derby), softer as she became a lawyer (but not soft soft, she still encountered more than her fair share of papercuts), then rougher again during her stay in the Commonwealth. doesn't really cut them until they become an issue, except for The Important Ones iykwim

hestia: honestly hers are probably the softest, but still not, like, baby soft. Adult Who Has Lived A Life sort of soft. like Nora, she wouldn't really cut them until they became an issue (again, except for The Important Ones) and the main callous is where they rest a pen/pencil

[shotmrmiller]

simon who can afford a better flat than the budget friendly flat he lives in but won't move. johnny doesn't understand. he wants to blame it on simon being the enigmatic, intentionally perplexing man he tends to be but he has a flat.

he doesn't have to. he's got no significant other, no kids (that he knows of, god only knows if simon's got a bairn somewhere. it makes him heated thinking about it. he's it's uncle, damn it.) why does he rent here when living in base is free?

the question answers itself when he's over one evening, empty beer bottles on the table, amber glass reflecting the warm glow of the lone lamp overhead. the television is on, volume turned down, blending with the other sounds of the night— the distant barking of dogs, the quiet hum of simon's fridge, the occasional car passing by outside.

the conversation had died down already, not like they don't spend almost every waking breath with each other at work and they'd been sitting in a comfortable silence when there was a sudden, sharp knock at simon's door.

it startles johnny, reaction instinctive as he reaches for his hip, hand curling around the grip of his holstered gun but simon seems relaxed. he pins him with a look and mutters, "s'alrigh'."

what does he mean it's alright? it's 'witchin' hour'' as his mam calls it, who could possible be at his door? he cranes his neck to look and—

it's you, standing up here with a flour-dusted apron, small hands holding a warm pastry, the steam twisting and curling off of it. you're exude homely charm, soft face glowing from the corridor's light (or maybe it's at the sight of seeing simon, who knows?) he can smell it in the air, sweet, inviting.

what johnny finds interesting enough to send a quick text to kyle is how simon is looking at you. as if you're handing him more than just a custard tart, but also a little piece of heaven, a fragment of a dream he hopes to have one day.

"'m sorry, simon. i wasn't aware you had any company. i just really needed to stress bake or i would've gone off the deep end and end up in prison."

violent little bonnie. he can see the appeal.

simon cups his hands over yours (he definitely did it as an excuse to touch you) as he takes the treat. if you make food to unwind and give it to your neighbors, johnny oughta move in next door too. he'll never turn down free food.

"don't worry about it." johnny's eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the softness in his tone, bottle halfway to his lips.

clearly more than a passing fancy.

"i'll just uhm, if you're friend wants some too—" but simon gently interrupts you before he can ask for some of that sweet comfort too.

"he's not hungry."

cruel, cruel bastard. he'll remember this day, jot it down in his calendar. when he gets a girl of his own, he'll be sure to do the same.

johnny wonders if you've got a crick in your neck from looking up at simon as you speak hushed words, meant only for him. can he get at least a nibble of that tart?

you shoot johnny a shy ㅤsmile before turning around and simon closes the door, turning back to the warming beers, golden tart in hand.

even the plate it's on is cute.

"ah can see the hearts in yer eyes, lt."

johnny can practically hear the air parting as simon's fist cuts through it, aimed at his head. he avoids it with practiced ease. "ooh, touchy. ah'll leave ye be if i get a bite o' tha'."

he doesn't gets not even a crumb because simon is selfish.

(simon moved here purposefully because he knows you live here and can't be at peace without knowing where you are at all times. there's a tag inside your favorite pair of shoes you left out in the hall once to dry after a hard downpour. the bakery you work at is down the street, if he looks out the south facing window, he can see you going in and leaving work. he likes to let himself in your home and smell your cushions. took one of your shirts too but at least made sure it wasn't one of your faves. he has to wash it every other day)

[enwoso]

Cute lil blurb idea we know alessia is one of the faces of adidas. Alessia getting gifted a pair of her own boots as well as a Lovie sized pair and Lovie wants to wear them all the time and wear her hair up like alessias because she says she’s dressed as mummy

MIRRORED — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy universe

it was an average wednesday, alessia was carrying you into the arsenal training ground her hands filled with her bag and your bag. you still being half asleep after falling back asleep on the car journey there as alessia made her way through the long corridors and towards the changing room.

not before being stopped by a memeber of staff, "alessia there's a box that's got your new boots in" he smiled as he passed the blonde in the corridor. alessia calling out a thank you as she headed still towards the changing room.

"right lovie are you just going to sit and watch your ipad?" your mummy asked as you hummed pulling your blanket further up to your face. alessia pushing the door to the changing room with her foot as she headed inside, most of the girls being there already and starting to change into their training gear.

alessia placed you down on the bench near her locker as you got yourself comfy, your mummy quickly propping your ipad up and putting something on for you to watch knowing you'd be content until you came around and woke up properly.

alessia sat down and took a breathe, it being the first one she'd properly been able to take this morning after having to rush around after pressing snooze one too many times this morning.

"this yours, less?" alessia turned to where the voice was coming from, it was lotte pointing to a big brown box that was sat next to alessia.

the blonde nodding, "yeah it's new boots for the rest of the season."

"you not gonna open them? looks like they've sent enough for the next season too" lotte joked looking at the size of the box, it definitely not being the smallest box. alessia humming as she too was wondering why the box was so abnormally large. there was only supposed to be three pairs of boots in there.

"they said they were only sending three pairs-" alessia paused as she lifted the box onto her lap, ripping open the seal on the cardboard box, a loud noise echoing the room as she did so.

"oo they aren't they nice" alessia mumbled under her breath as she looked at the boots, a smile creeping on her face. it was always fun getting new kit, the excitement of unboxing them.

"what's in that one?" lotte pointed to the small adidas box which definitely didn't have boots in as it was too small. the blonde shrugged picking them up from inside the large brown box they'd been shipped in.

opening the box, there was a greeting card on top. 'toughness in tiny packages!'

a little quirk of the eyebrow as alessia looked towards lotte who just shrugged urging the blonde to just open the box.

moving the white tissue paper covering the item was a small pair of boots, just like the ones they'd sent alessia but in a size that would fit you.

"oh my god, she's gonna love these" alessia pouted taking in the small boots as she turned them around getting a full feel of the pair of green fusion with the three stripes being a purple colour.

they were almost identical to the ones alessia had just been given to use for the remainder of the season, they had even put your name on the side in small white letters.

a small pout on alessia face as her heart was melting at the cuteness of them, "there class them" lotte complimented as alessia showed her best friend where they'd even put your name on them.

alessia gushed over the small boots along with the other sets of clothes adidas had sent you to wear that matched your mummy. alessia decided to wait until you were in a better mood to show you them. knowing it would get a better reaction than the tired reaction she would get if she showed them to you now.

morning training had finished and the team was ready to go to lunch, you'd been waiting inside. playing with winnie for the morning, you even getting to take the club dog for a walk around the inside of the training ground.

"lovie, c'mere" your mummy called you over as you were laid out on the floor with win, as you watched your ipad. winnie guarding over you protectively.

you perking up at the sound of her voice, pushing yourself off the floor and toward your mum. leaving win to watch your ipad.

you walked over you to your mummy as had a big smile on her face, lifting you up when you got closer. "i've got something to show you"

your eyebrows knitted together, "what is it" you asked curiously. as you began to guess things as your mummy carried you to wherever this thing was that she had to show you.

"no lovie it unfortunately isn't a unicorn but i think it's just as good!" your mummy let out a chuckle at your strange suggestions as you got lost in thought — what was better than a unicorn?

alessia took you back into the locker room where she’d left the packages, placing you to sit on the bench as she grabbed the brown boxes from her locker before handing them to you.

you looked at the box that was now on your lap it easy being nearly the size of you, as you hesitantly looked up towards your mum. one thing you did know is that there definitely wasn’t a unicorn in there..

“open it lovie” your mummy encouraged as you opened the box, discarding the wrapping to one side as you rummaged around before finally lifting up the boot.

a gasp escaping you as you looked at the football boots, a big grin plastered across your face as you jumped up to hug your mummy’s leg. maybe matching boots were cooler than a unicorn.

“mummy there exactly like yours!” your called out holding the boot in the air as if it was a trophy a giggle coming from your mummy’s leg at your excitement.

“i can be like you now!” you continued, as you looked at the two boots as your mummy sat down next to you showing that they had your name on the side, you being in utter awe and for once lost for words, for a short amount of time.

“i wear them now!” you asked as alessia nodded knowing it would put a damper on your mood if she hadn’t let you. “you put my hair like yours too!” you asked pointing to the thick plait that was in your mummy’s pony tail — you wanting the exact same.

your mummy did as you asked plaiting your pony tail that your hair had been scraped back into this morning, alessia putting your little fly aways back in place as you put your boots on. trying your best to lace them but you hadn’t mastered that yet so you left it for your mummy to do.

“all done lovie!” your mummy patted your feet as she finished lacing your boot up, a grin not leaving your face. “gosh it’s like looking in the mirror-“

you were stood looking in the mirror that was built into the wall in the locker room, your mummy stood behind you and if anyone had of walked in it would ah e looked like alessia had duplicated a smaller version of herself.

“should we show the girls?” your mummy asked as you nodded rushing off back to the canteen where most of the girls would be, alessia following suit.

"woah, less is that you?" beth joked as she knelt down to your height as you came in the room just before your mummy, you dressed exactly like her.

"no bethy! it's me!" you squealed correcting beth as she let out a loud laugh. alessia coming through the double doors.

"silly me, i just couldn't tell you apart you look just like your mum!"

[miguelhugger2099]

What a Man!

Summary: Times where Miguel reminded you that he's kinda the ideal man. Art by AndalusiaLu on twt :) Next>> Miguel x GN!Reader, Fluff, Drabble

You were used to dating shitty men. One way or another they'd disappoint you so you've learned to pick your poison. You'd much rather date a broke man than an abusive one, as sad as that sounds.

So, when you meet Miguel, a six foot nine, muscle built rich man, you half expected for him to fall into one--but not limited to--three categories. Gym rat, machismo, or a entitled narcissist. It wouldn't be your first and it wouldn't be your last either. But, you were pleasantly surprised when he offered to take you out to a nice restaurant as a first date.

You asked for the address of the place he named and were met with pure confusion on Miguel's end. "Why would you need the address?" He asked.

"So I can drive there?" You raised an eyebrow. Miguel's lips tugged downward.

"I was planning on picking you up," He shrugged. "But if it's a matter of safety, then let me at least pay for your ride there and home."

You were gobsmacked. No forcing you in his car? And he offered to pay for the expenses? You pushed down the slight leap in your chest and coughed. "Picking me up is fine."

Miguel had set the time to pick you up at six thirty and when he texted he was outside, you had to embarrassingly ask him for another five minutes to finish the touches on your outfit. He assured you it was fine and to take your time but you still hurried anyway, not wanting to take up too much time when he's the one driving.

You opened the door the exit and you gasped, taking a step back at seeing Miguel right in front. His back was facing you but when he heard you and the door opening, he turned around and gave you a charming smile. In his hands was a small bouquet of flowers, his suit neatly tailored and it looked snug on his toned body. His white collar was popped open just enough to see the gold chain draped on his neck.

"Forgive me. I should've asked what type of flowers you liked beforehand but I hope these roses will do." Miguel handed them to you and you had to remember to pick your jaw up off the ground. Flowers? On the first date? Flowers at all? You accepted the bouquet with a bashful smile, smelling the fresh scent of the roses with a murmur of your favorite flower.

Miguel's smile grew slightly at your pleased reaction. "I'll be sure to remember that, cariño." He held out his hand to you and you took it with him then leading you to his car.

You subconsciously reached for his car door handle but his larger hand reached for it first. Popping it open, he helped you inside the comfy leather seat of his luxurious car with a gentle squeeze of your hand and closing the door. He opened the door for you? Good lord. You fanned your face to ease the heat growing on your cheeks and dumb smile on your lips.

On the road, he engaged in small talk that consisted of asking about your day, listening to your small rants about work with him pitching in when you asked your own questions. The chemistry was there, conversation and bantering flowing seamlessly between the two of you.

Once at the restaurant, not only had he opened the door for you but also pulled out your chair! You two picked up the menu and you struggled to find the cheapest option available, not wanting to hurt his pockets. Seeing your eyebrows knit together, Miguel nudged the menu down with his finger to meet your eyes.

"Pick what you want. I'm paying anyway." He tilts his head slightly.

You chuckle nervously. "I just don't want you to spend too much. It's rude."

Miguel tuts, shaking his head. "Sweetheart, like I said, I'm the one taking you out. Everything is on me," He leans back in his chair, gazing at the steak section. "Besides, I have more than enough. A few extra dollars won't make a difference."

Jesus Christ. These prices couldn't hurt his bank account when yours is crying just looking at it? "Well, maybe this pasta here looks good?" You point to the one you've been subtly eyeing. Miguel gives a hum of approval.

"You have a good eye." He praises with a small wink and making you giggle. The waiter comes by to collect your order, Miguel adding a wine by a name you can't pronounce. He then hands both your menus to the waiter and faces you again.

"Now, what was that about your boss giving you shit at work?" He smirks, remembering and even wanting to hear the rest of your story from the car. You laugh and lean your elbows on the table, starting from the top while Miguel listens with open ears.

After being in an established relationship, you learned Miguel was private about your relationship but not secretive about it. He often invited you as his plus one to his works banquets at Alchemax, his arm around you at all times whether on your shoulder or around your waist.

Miguel would show you off with pride. "And who's this lovely one next to you?" Someone would ask mid-conversation. He'd perk up, standing a bit taller and moving his hand to the middle of your back.

"This is my wonderful partner." He smiled, announcing your name to them and kissing your temple. You felt shy even with the small public display of affection. Too much made you feel icky and too little made you feel sad---Miguel knew just the right amount to get your heart fluttering.

While Miguel had been talking to another group of men, you tugged on his suit to grab his attention. He immediately put the conversation on hold and looked down on you with a hint of of concern. "What's wrong?"

You smiled reassuringly. "Nothing. I'm just gonna grab a drink--kinda thirsty. Want one?" You asked. Miguel relaxed after knowing you were okay and he nodded.

"That'd be great. Gracias, cariño." He lifted your chin to give you a quick peck that you reciprocated and slipped you his card before letting you be to find the bar.

You squeezed through the crowd of rich and smart people alike, making your way to the familiar counter filled with various types of alcohol. You leaned over to catch the bartenders attention and order two drinks, passing Miguel's card to him and sat on the stool while you waited.

You glanced around the banquet, mindlessly taking everything in to the chandeliers and the different types of people you'd never thought you'd be in the same room if it weren't for Miguel. Speaking of which, your eyes landed on him, smiling to yourself as he chatted along with his colleagues. You admired the way he was confident but not egotistical, kind but not a push-over, humble but knows his worth. You really lucked out with this one.

The clinking of two glass cups snapped you out of your lovesick gaze and you smiled at the bartender, giving your thanks. You hopped off the stool and picked them up carefully before looking up and stopping in your tracks. Where you meant to walk towards Miguel, there was an older man introducing what you guessed was his daughter to Miguel. In the pit of your stomach, you pushed down the feeling of jealousy, instead focusing your emotion on how Miguel would react.

You've spent too much time entertaining men and their games, whether it was to purposefully piss you off or discard you for an ounce of someone else's attention. So you watched how Miguel would handle it and you hoped he wouldn't disappoint you.

The woman smiled a little too big for your liking, obviously making herself seem more attractive in his eyes. Which would've been fine--if it wasn't to your man. Your eyes narrowed when she reached for his bicep but then Miguel stopped her. You blinked as you saw him try to shove her off as professionally as possible but you saw him clench his jaw to hide his disgust. He faced the older man without sparing another glance at the appalled woman, gesturing to himself and shaking his head. You assumed he was explaining he was taken and was proven right when he turned in your direction and his eyes met yours. His face morphed into something softer when he looked at you, a smile on his face when he turned back to the man-- "happily in a relationship" his lips said.

The weight in your chest lifted instantly. Miguel wasn't playing a childish game to make you jealous and he was committed to you. To you, he had gotten so much more attractive in your eyes.

You felt a small poke to your shoulder and you turned around, seeing a man with slicked back blonde, almost white, hair. He sized you up and down which made an uncomfortable shiver run down your spine. You took a step back and smiled politely. "Can I help you?"

The man chuckles. "Just wondering what a pretty thing like you is doing all by yourself. Especially with two drinks. Someone ditch you? That's a shame." He sauntered over closer to you but you took another step back up until you hit a wall. Or what you thought was a wall. You smelled the familiar scent of Miguel's signature cologne and looked up.

Miguel was right behind you, his eyes void of the softness just moments ago and narrowed at the man in front of you. His arm had wrapped around your middle and pulled you closer to him possessively, his other hand taking one drink from your hand. "Thank you for getting us a drink, mi vida," He kissed your temple then down to your cheek. "Kron, seems you've just met my partner." His smile was strained as he hissed out 'partner'.

Kron, as you now know, had stopped smiling instantly. He tried hiding the obvious hatred for Miguel but it still seeped out. "Miguel," He greeted. "Seems I have. Didn't mean to intrude. Have a nice night." He excused himself and grumbled while walking away. Miguel watched as he did so, taking a sip of the drink you had gotten him, the cubes tinkling against the glass. He bent down to your ear after swallowing the bitter taste, his breath warm and tickling you with how close he got.

"From now on, you don't leave my side. I can't bear people thinking you're not mine." His deep voice rumbled and his grip never left your waist the whole night. Wherever you went, he went along and wherever he went, his hand was always somewhere on your body. You head spun the rest of the night, flushed next to him while he managed to slip in that you were his in every conversation and even stealing a few kisses here and there. To have a man this proud of you, it made your heart flutter like no other. Private but not secretive.

A/N: something short and sweet in the middle of writer's block :')

[rubyvhs]

nightmare [dean winchester]

pairing; dean w x fem! reader summary; you go on a hunt with the brothers but when it goes to shit, dean can’t help being overprotective. tags; angst, stitching yourself, alcoholic dean, some you and sam in there cause he's the cutest baby, your dad died.

“fuck! sam, quick, get the girls.” dean runs into the impala forcing the engine to roar to life and flashes his lights at the highest setting for the vampires, burning their eyes as the other four get into it and he drives off.

it's quite for the first five minutes, except for the heavy breathing. the two girls that the trio rescued are sleeping peacefully, though you think it's anything but peaceful. their faces aren't relaxed, instead covered in blood and frowning, but their breaths have slowed, at least.

five minutes. that's all it takes before the tension is broken with a, “let me drive, dean.” the older winchester lets out an exaggerated airy laugh for all of two seconds before putting on a straight face and telling him no. “you're hurt, you can hardly keep your eyes open, let me drive, either of us.”

sam is right, dean is hurt way more than both of you combined, he fought off most of the vampires on his own while you took the girls and ran, but he was mostly hurt because he hadn't expected it.

your plan was to get the girls and dip then come back in the morning to wipe them out in their sleep, but you had woken one of them up with the loudest noise you've ever made when one of the girls stabbed you in the stomach with some glass she’d found on the floor. 

again, taken by surprise. obviously the girls thought you were one of the vampires. 

“shut up. it's only a ten minute drive to the nearest hospital.”

“we're going to a hospital?” you don't usually hunt with sam and dean, opting to stay in the motels and do some research, maybe figure out a better plan, but you've never seen them go to the hospital for their injuries, they'd always come home to you bleeding out on the floor.

“for you and the girls, yes.”

“what about you and sam?”

“it's fine.” that shut you up, his strict tone, and stare in the rear view mirror made you slide down in your seat.

ten minutes later you’ve reached 'northwest tawara horspital' and sam is helping the girls out of the impala. dean, while a wanted fugitive, does the same with you. 

but you refuse. “i won't go inside if you two aren't.”

“what?” he moves a little too quickly and holds his side as he winces. god, that can't be comfortable. 

“i won't go inside, we're just wasting time,” sam comes back and stands in the drivers side to talk to you, door open. “see? sam's back, let's get home quickly so we can fix you both up, and me.”

“no, you're going in.” sam was the one to insist this time but you just shake your head and stay planted into your seat. through the corner of your eye you can see both men discussing what to do then they get back in the car with a sigh.

on the drive home it’s mostly silent until you feel your eyes flutter closed. just a few seconds of sleep— but dean’s loud shout of your name wakes you up, “don't close your eyes, we need to fix you up first.” you nod and straighten up, “and what you did back there? fuckin’ reckless, don't pull that shit again. when we tell you to do something, you do it. or you don't come on hunts with us.”

“what the hell? i was the one who decided i didn't want to come with hunts on you guys, you can't take away my choice.”

“like hell i can't!” he isn't looking at you through the mirror, instead focusing on the road because you're on a busy one, but you can still feel his eyes burning into yours. it makes you shrink down in your seat. you hate how much his words affect you, and how visible it is too. 

sam has has never yelled at you really, but even if he had it wouldn't have done much damage, he's too soft for that. dean though... he scares you sometimes, not that he'd hurt you or kick you out, just that he'd be disappointed in you, maybe give you the silent treatment. you don't want that, but you also hate being barked orders at.

“you can't, dean.” sam says to his brother, slapping his shoulder once to ground him back, and it seems to have worked. because you’re not a bad hunter— if anything, you have their back most of the time, you aren’t clumsy or unreliable and what happened had been a mistake that any other hunter would have made. this isn’t about hunting. this is about dean being too controlling.

you thought it was over now that you're at the motel but when he parks baby, he looks back at you, “i can, and i fucking will. you can't act like a child and expect us to let you come on the hunts. you listen to whatever the fuck we tell you to do.” your lips part in surprise, thinking of how to respond, but he doesn't even give you the chance and gets out, slamming the door behind him. 

you don't look at sam as you close baby's door and start walking to the motel. sam catches up and tells you to wait and because you don't have it in you to be yelled at anymore, you turn back and face him.

he says your name, low and soft, “that wasn't an order,” 

shut up before i cry “hey,” he hugs you, your head on his chest and you just let it all out. god, you feel so stupid. you can't believe you were so unprepared and you caused them all this damage. if you had just been in defense mode you would've never screamed, you've been through worst and kept quite. and though you know it’s a little irrational, you can’t help but blame yourself for not being quiet.

“hey, he's just worried about you, he means well, you know that.” you let go slightly and he kisses your forehead, telling you to go into their room and that he'll be in yours to get cleaned up. 

+

walking into the room of the man who just basically called you a two year old is nerve-wrecking. you don't want to be screamed at and god knows you don't want to be treated like a child again. every time you think you’re getting through to dean, or that you’re becoming closer, something happens and he reminds you you’re still young, naive, and only with them because your dad had told them to.

your father is— was a hunter, he used to hunt with john sometimes, and when he heard about the apocalypse that's soon to be here and all the angels that seem to stride onto earth, he wanted to tie up loose ends, so he asked the winchesters to keep you with them until further notice.

then he never came back. but all of this is something you’ve dealt with ages ago. years even. but this? dean pushing you away all the time? acting like you’re some burden? that, you can’t get over.

“hey,” you hear his voice and turn around, not even having seen him walking towards the bathroom. “how you holding up?”

it’s a stupid attempt to make amends, but it works. the second he says anything, it works. it always does.

“fine.” you mumble and notice he’s finishing supplies to stitch himself up. ouch. you know the boys prefer to do it themselves than help the other out but you’ve always found they need a gentler hand. 

you walk towards him and hold his hand in place to stop his movements, taking the needle from him. he doesn't complain, just drowns the bottle of whiskey. with one hand, the other holding his shirt up. 

when it’s done you hold my hand out for the bottle and he scoffs, as if wasting his alcohol hurts him more than the wound that just got stitched up. he hands it over reluctantly.

you pull down his shirt and decide it’s better if you take a swig too. “does it hurt?” the questions rolls off easily, no matter how angry you are at him. 

“i'll survive.” he shrugs like it's nothing. like the gash over most of his stomach is nothing.

“not what i asked.” dean half-heartedly glares at you but your expectant expression makes him think there isn’t a way out. and there isn’t.

“it's fine, my arm’s just sore.” you sit next to him on the bed, pushing his sleeve up and he hisses, muttering something under his breath and snatching the bottle from your hand to drown it. 

“dean...” it’s surreal. it knocks all the air out of your lungs. you’ve never seen the mark, the one an angel of the lord imprinted on dean’s shoulder, though sam talked about it a couple of times. you clear your throat before he notices the staring and point to the wound, “i think you need to stitch that one too, hand me another needle.”

he does and you get to work. it’s mostly noiseless but it feels like there's something heavy in the air, a confession. though it’s impossible to tell who’s supposed to make it.

“i'm sorry.” you try to hide the surprise on your face by looking down but he doesn't let you, hooking his fingers under your chin and he makes you look up at him. “i was so worried about you.” he lets go, taking a breath in, “the way i felt when you screamed? damn it, i've never felt so scared before and i've been to hell,” he lets out a dry laugh and you smile a little. god he's so perfect.

“i don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart, never, so when i ask you to listen to me it isn't because i'm treating you like a child, i just wanna keep you safe.” there are more words on the tip of his tongue but he shuts up and it doesn’t nothing to help the growing smile on your face. it's more than you thought you’d ever get out of him.

you pour a more of the alcohol on his stitches and pull the sleeve down. “okay, you officially need a shower now, you're all booze and cologne. i need to clean this place up.”

“it's fine, sammy and i will do it.”

“not happening. go get cleaned up, i'll finish here.” you knew that what you’re doing is painfully obvious, but you hope he lets it go, just this once. 

of course he doesn't, instead pulling your shirt up to reveal the various cuts that don’t need stitches, just some treatment, and the stab wound you fixed in the car when they were both too busy sulking in the tension. you’ve gotten a lot better at handling pain since you’ve started with the winchesters.

“when did you do that?”

“doesn't matter, it's done. get in the shower dean, let me clean up and go to sleep.”

“damn it, just answer me when i ask something. when did you do this?”

“car.” you’re scared, tired and you don't want to fight. but he just apologized, for god’s sake, can’t he give it a rest.

you wait for his harsh blow. words that will knock you off my feet, anything really, but he just sighs, letting the shirt go and stands up. you do the same and he embraces you in a hug that you’re quick to reciprocate. so quick you’d already had your arms around his neck before he got his around your waist.

the whiskey burns your nose but it's nothing compared to how your body burns with you so close. “dean?”

“you're so strong, you know?” he takes a beat, a breath, “but that doesn't mean shit to me, i still wanna keep you safe all the time because god knows i don't deserve you but i'm too selfish to let you go.”

you pull away just to see his face. you need to know he means what he's saying. that you’re talking about the both of you in the way you’re thinking. the desperation to convey how he feels to you, it gives you all the confidence in the world to stand a little taller and finally kiss him.

you kiss dean winchester because for the first time in ages, someone cares, someone wants you safe. someone learned from their mistake and did better, someone is fucking perfect and it's dean. 

one of his hands is rough on your waist, the other on you cheek. his tongue, his cologne, it all makes you melt into him. 

then ten seconds later, way too deep into the kiss he pulls away slowly, shakes his head and groans, “why'd you do that.”

you step away him in panic. you were ready for rejection, sure. a small ‘i don't see you like that’, not this.

“i'm sorry, i didn't mean to—”

“no, no, hey,” he steps closer “i just... i don't wanna do this if it's gonna hurt you. i don't know how good i will be if we go down that road and you deserve something good.”

“you are dean,” he licks his bottom lip and it catches you attention, forcing you to bite on yours, “you're good. you're perfect.”

one thing i will not allow in my household is the winchester brothers being insecure that they're not enough (pov it’s all they do). anyways sooo this is for the jensen-a-thon for @artyandink so excited to have my first entry and there’s another one i’ve been working on for a week (hopefully i’m almost done with it). hope you enjoyed this!

[teal-fiend]

you get eaten by a stranger. You barely are able to catch a glimpse of their face before you're gulped down and deposited in the stomach.

You were in public before, a park that you'd been to many times. So when your predator starts moving, and the stomach starts to become more active, stimulated by the walking, you can imagine in your minds eye where they have gone in the park.

They're heading to the edge, now you feel the footsteps hitting concrete as they go along the sidewalk.

you yell for help; there must be other people around who can help you. Your pred doesn't even bother trying to silence you, or acknowledge your protests at all.

You're still following along where you imagine they are, until they stop, leaving you hanging motionlessly for the first time. Its kind of like being in a hammock, but cramped, and the hammock is trying to digest you.

You hear a click, and the opening of a car door. As the pred gets in, you become much more cramped, squished by their legs and torso, and the car. And their stomach keeps squeezing you, trying to make you smaller.

Now the car is moving and you have no idea where you are. You are sloshed back and forth by the momentum of the vehicle or what could be an hour or more.

Eventually it slows down, the car parks. For the first time the pred gives you a little pat before getting out of the car.

They're moving up some stairs. You can feel and hear their heartbeat at the exertion. And you get thrown back and forth with each step.

You hear a door open. And a sigh. You're in a house, you assume. Or an apartment? It could be anywhere, you dont even know if you're still in the same city.

You are likely in a strangers home, and in their gut. You're going to be digested far away from any place you are familiar with. No one will know where you went. And if someone saw this pred with their full belly, they'd have no idea who the meal was.

Your world shifts, the pred has laid down. You hear a muffled rustling of sheets and there is extra weight over you. The pred is tucked into bed, and its not even night time. A mid-day rest, as they prepare to digest you fully.

You dont want to accept this. Your efforts to escape have been useless so far. But you try to do your best. You yell at them, to get their attention. You kick at their stomach, which is hard because of how restricted you are.

You feel the pred roll onto their back, letting you wriggle uselessly ontop of them. You feel silly doing it, seeing as how little an effect it has.

Then, you feel them tense their belly muscles slightly, and there is a loud bubbly gurgle. You feel the pred thump on you lightly. You figet in response, doing your best to irritate them further. But all you get is a loud burp from above, before you feel the pred relax again.

you hear their voice for the first time as they excuse themselves. But after that, they have nothing more to say.

You wonder what the room looks like. And what the pred looks like. You can barely remember.

You wonder what you would look like from the outside. A gurgling bulge in a stranger's abdomen. An anonymous meal. The pred had probably seen that many times. If they looked in a mirror later, they'd be able to see you. Well not you, the pred would only see their own stomach, but you would be inside it

[talktonytome]

oooh, Cia, about a lil ficlet based on that post about Buck just plopping himself down on Tommy's lap whenever he wants.

Sarah, my beloved! I hope you like this <3

Buck waves his hands animatedly, from his place on Tommy's lap. He's telling Karen about his and Tommy's trip to the botanical garden the other day and how they got to go into the butterfly pavilion.

"Tommy was covered in butterflies, you shoulda seen!" Then, he turns to wink at Tommy. "And he wasn't even a little bit afraid of them."

Karen giggles, as Tommy faux glares at him and starts poking his ribs, well-versed in Buck's ticklish spots.

Buck squirms, trying to get away, but Tommy holds him in place, like it's nothing and doesn't let up.

"Okay, okay, I yield!" He shrieks. And he's glad he threw his arms around Tommy's neck because, in the next second, there's a loud crack, as the chair splinters beneath them and they're both suddenly ass on the ground.

Well, they'd had a good run, he supposes. For as many times as he's sat in Tommy's lap, he's surprised this didn't happen sooner, frankly.

He chances one look at Tommy, who is slightly red in the face. The moment their eyes meet, they burst out in laughter, and if they hadn't already been on the floor, they would have fallen over, anyway.

They laugh and laugh, until they're wiping tears from their eyes and Karen laughs too- more at them, than with them, though. "Well, am I glad I captured that priceless little moment," she smirks, shaking her phone in their faces.

Tommy almost breaks his neck to gasp at her. "Wait did you know this would happen? Karen, you wound me."

Karen shrugs innocently. "I thought I heard the chair creak just before, but I wasn't sure. Anyway, you know this was bound to happen. You two go around acting like chairs are meant to hold two grown-ass men! And Buck, I love you, but as much as you act like one sometimes, a puppy you are not!”

She stands up from her own chair and taps at her phone with a grin. A few seconds later, their phones buzz.

Buck groans. “Really? You sent it to the group chat?”

“What? I thought they’d want to see,” she blinks at them sweetly. “Besides, I had to prove I won the bet,” she nods smugly.

“There was a bet?” Tommy asks indignantly.

“Oh Tommy, you should know by now, there’s always a bet.” With that, she walks away from them and ducks inside her and Hen’s house.

Tommy lays back on the grass, pulling Buck with him. “Well, at least there’s a silver lining,” he sighs.

Buck turns his head to look at him, doubtful. “Oh yeah? Please do tell me.”

“At least everyone else went home before it happened.”

Buck pictures Chim and Eddie’s gleeful ribbing and shudders. Oh god, what if Athena had been there? “Yeah, yeah I think you’re right.”

“I often am,” Tommy agrees, voice low and teasing.

“Don’t push it, Kinard,” Buck mutters.

“I thought you liked it when I pushed you around, against surfaces, especially,” he smirks.

“I’ll show you pushing,” Buck warns, before rolling over and pinning Tommy beneath him.

He’s just about to kiss him breathless, when the backyard flood lights shine on them and Hen yells from the door. “Get a room! Your room, in your home, please.”

They both groan this time. He rolls off Tommy and helps him up instead.

Tommy wraps an arm around him, as they walk to their car. “Cock-blocked by a Hen,” he shakes his head and giggles. “Get it?”

Buck laughs, despite himself. “Oh god, why am I with you, again?”

“Because you looove me.”

“Yeah,” Buck whispers, still in awe that that he gets to have this, slightly wounded pride and all. “I really do.”

[vivwritesfics]

Chase It

It was the third date, and it was terrifying. Terrifying and exhilarating. She loved it, she loved him.

F1 x twisters lmao

Warnings: hints of smut, slight cowboy hat rule

Viv's AUgust Event

Daniel Ricciardo was crazy. But he was that good kind of crazy that got your heart racing and your blood pumping. Being around him was exhilarating.

The way he asked her on a third date, she should have known something was going on, should have known he had something planned. But she agreed. She said yes, she got dressed and she set off to his ranch.

Their first date had been in the hayloft. She hadn't planned on sleeping with him, but the way he laid her against the hay (covered in a blanket), she wrapped her legs around him kissed his neck as he rutted into her.

She pulled up to the little house in the middle of the ranch and climbed out of her car. Daniel's ranch was lovely. He had so much land and he filled it with cattle and horses. The house was big enough for four people, but Daniel was the only person that lived there.

She walked onto the wrap around porch. On their second date they'd sat on the swing seat and just talked. Well, talked until she opened that big belt buckle and freed him from his jeans. Daniel had kissed her as she moved her hand along his dick.

She knocked on his door. A few seconds later and the door opened. There Daniel stood, cowboy hat on his head and grin on his face. "Hi honey," he said and pulled her inside. He kissed her quickly as he kicked the door shut.

"Give me a couple minutes and we'll get going," he said, taking his hat from his head and placing it on her own. A promise of things to come later.

"Where are we going?" She asked as he grabbed his keys from the hook. He didn't answer as he grabbed bottles of water from his fridge.

Arm around her shoulder, he led her outside and over to his truck. His truck was fully kitted out for something, she just didn't know what. Every time she'd asked, he'd just laughed and tapped her nose.

He held her hand as she climbed into the truck. "Danny." She pushed her fingers through his dark curls. "Where are we going?"

He squeezed her knee. "You'll see."

She never expected to go storm chasing. Never expected to race towards that grey, swirling mass. The wind was whipping the truck, but they were heavy enough to be stable. The windscreen wipers moved rapidly, clearing the windscreen for Daniel to see where he was going. "We're just going to get close, right?" She shouted over the sound of the wind.

Daniel didn't answer. She was getting pretty sick of this, but he wasn't slowing the truck. She held onto the dashboard and shut her eyes as Daniel drove into the eye of the tornado.

Pressing a button, the truck anchored itself down. "Open your eyes, honey," he said as he placed his hand on her knee.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes.

It was incredible. The storm raged around them, but Daniel didn't care. "Holy shit," she whispered as she leaned forward to get a better look.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Daniel said, squeezing her knee.

In two seconds he had a hold of her. He pulled her onto his lap and gripped her hips. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as she leaned in to brush her lips against his own. "It's brilliant, Danny," she whispered and kissed him.

His hands gripped her so damn tight, holding her against him as he kissed her. He kissed across her jaw and down her neck as the tornado moved past them. Her eyes were fixed on it as it got further and further away from them.

"Let's head home," she mumbled as her fingers drummed against his big, shiny belt buckle.

Daniel took his hat from her head and placed it back on her own. They could have just climbed into the back seat of the truck and fucked like there so no tomorrow. But Daniel wanted to lay her somewhere comfortable. After the hayloft and the swing seat, she deserved it.

Releasing the anchor on the truck, Daniel drove her back to his ranch. He sang along to the music on the radio as she watched the storm in the rearview mirror. One storm and she was hooked.

He parked up in front of the farm house and climbed out of his truck. Ever the gentleman, he opened the door and held her hand as she stepped down from the truck. There was still wind and rain, and he spun her around before leading her to the house.

His lips were on hers even before he had the door open. He fumbled with the key before he pushed it into the lock and got the door open.

"Fuck, honey," he grunted as he walked her in and kicked the door shut behind her. "Tell me you'll be mine." He walked her back until she was resting against the arm of the brown leather couch.

She sat on the arm of the couch, wrapped her arms around his neck and fell backwards, pulling him on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his (slutty man) waist and stared into his pretty eyes. "I'm yours, Danny," she said and ran her fingers through his hair and knocked his Stetson to the floor. "I'm all yours."

[writerslittlelibrary]

We can be your family

masterlist part 2

summary: having been in the foster system all your life, you don't expect much when your case worker tells you you're being moved again. what happens when the car suddenly stops in the most expensive neighborhood in all of New York…

pairing: Natasha x teen reader, Maria x teen reader, Blackhill

warnings: mentions of abusive foster families, vague mention of sexual assault 

genre: fluff

words: 3542

a/n: this one was voted for the most, and I'm so happy it was. I was super excited to write this and I love the idea of foster parents Blackhill so much, I think they're adorable. I hope you like it and please let me know what you think and whether you'd want more foster family Blackhill :) 

maybe I’ll make this a two parter or a series, seeing as I found this already pretty long but I do want to write more about it

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It was late when the car came to a stop. It had been two days ago when you were told you were going to have a new foster family. You had been moving around all your life, having been left at the door of a police station merely days after you were born. You had never met your parents, and you were put into the foster system almost immediately. 

No one had ever adopted you, which unfortunately for you meant that you were still going from foster family to foster family, sometimes even group homes when there were no foster families available. 

In your life, you had learned it was best never to connect with your foster families. Usually, it didn't take very long until you were off to the next one anyway.

And so, two days ago when the service worker called, you had started mentally preparing for the next mess you were going to be thrown into. You had learned that most foster families were only in it for the money, and that was often very noticable, ever after the first day you'd be there. Often, they didn't care much for you, which was fine. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. It was the times they did care for you when you had to be careful.

When they did care, they'd usually have a long list of ridiculous rules, all of which you had to follow. When you failed to follow their ridiculous rules, there'd usually be some type of insane punishment, which more often than not ended up with you hurt, usually because you'd take a beating.

You were a little nervous to meet a new foster family, worried they'd be another collection of horrible people that called themselves a family, yet, you weren't quite fond of the family you were with now, so you didn't care much.

For now, you'd simply hold on to the hope that this new foster family would be better than the old one. 

When your case worker came, you'd already packed. Seeing as you had never owned a lot of objects, you were done rather quickly. All your stuff easily fit in one trash bag, your valuable objects, such as your beloved stuffed bunny and your favorite book were all put in your school bag.

When you had gotten into the car, you definitely didn't expect much, but when the car drove through one of the most expensive neighborhoods in New York, you were definitely surprised that that is where the car stopped. 

Either your case worker was gonna leave you at the dumpster, or your new foster family is rich rich. 

Alice opened the door for you with a smile, and she got your (trash) bag from the trunk. You held onto your school bag tightly as Alice walked inside the huge apartment building, you following closely behind. When you were both inside, Alice walked to the large reception desk at the left side of the lobby. A man dressed in a neat suit sat behind it.

You had never ever been in an apartment complex fancy or rich enough to have a security guard in the lobby. 

You were standing next to Alice as she told the security guard you were there for a Miss Romanoff and a Miss Hill. You were looking around the large and beautiful (and extremely fancy) lobby, too busy to even notice Alice mention two women.

The man typed some numbers on some device, then pointed Alice towards the elevator. Alice walked towards it, and you followed suit, too nervous to even spare a glance towards the security guard. 

Even the elevator looked fancy, and to say you were surprised when Alice pressed the penthouse button would be an understatement. 

When the elevator made it all the way to the top, Alice let you walk out first. There was only one door in front of the elevator, and you figured the penthouse was the only residence on the floor. You turned to Alice, who stood there waiting for you to knock on the door. You took a deep breath and took a few steps forward, pressing the fancy looking doorbell. How rich were these people if they even had a fancy looking doorbell?

The door opened soon enough, a brunette standing in the door frame with a smile on her face. She looked nice, but in your many years of experience you had learned that looks could be very deceiving. 

“You must be y/n,” she said as she looked at you, and you were too nervous to do anything but nod. She gave you a kind smile before shifting her gaze to Alice, glancing at the trash bag with concern. Alice took a step forward, extending her hand to the woman. 

“You must be Miss Hill. I'm Alice, we spoke on the phone,” she mentioned as she shook the hand of Miss Hill. “I am indeed, I'm so glad you could make it.”

Miss Hill stepped aside, allowing you to look into the penthouse. 

“Please come in, my girlfriend will join us shortly,” she said, and you took small steps into the apartment. Girlfriend? You could've known. She looked too well dressed to be straight…

Alice followed you inside, and stood awkwardly in the little hallway as Miss Hill closed the door. She walked in front of you and went to the right, walking into an expensive looking kitchen. It had a kitchen island, and around it were a few high stools. 

“You can sit down right here if you want. Would you like anything to drink?” Miss Hill asked, and you just shook your head. She then turned to Alice, who also shook her head with a smile. “No thank you, I'll be going shortly,” she stated as she set the trash bag next to the kitchen island, reaching into her own shoulder bag for a few papers.

She pulled out a map with documents, just as another woman joined you. “Oh, Miss Romanoff, so glad I got to see you too,” Alice stated as Miss Romanoff walked towards her, shaking her hand with a small but pleasant smile.

Miss Romanoff went to stand next to Miss Hill, both standing across from you as Alice handed the map to Miss Romanoff.

“Here are the last documents, and I will be going then. If you have any questions don't hesitate to let me know, my number is somewhere in there. Of course there will be some surprise inspections, and if you would like to get rid of the child please contact the number at the bottom,” Alice stated, and you grimaced at the words she used. 

Natasha was uncomfortable with the use of words as well, but you missed the worried glance she sent you and she took the documents from Alice. 

You just kept your gaze on your hands, picking at the skin around your fingers as Miss Hill walked Alice out. When she returned, she took a seat, Miss Romanoff now sitting as well. 

“So, y/n, I am Natasha, and this here is my girlfriend Maria. It is so nice to meet you,” Natasha smiled, but you kept your gaze on your hands. When Natasha noticed you weren't going to reply, she continued speaking. “I know this must be very scary for you, but I just want you to know it's a little scary for us as well. This is our first time fostering anyone, so if we make any mistakes you just let us know okay?” Natasha asked, and you just nodded your head.

“So where are all your bags? Is someone bringing them over later or?...” Maria asked, and you glanced at her slightly before pointing towards the trash bag. “Those are my clothes…” you said in a quiet voice, and it took everything in Natasha to not say how ridiculous that was.

“Okay, we'll just have to get you a proper bag then, huh?” Maria said kindly,  before standing up. “Would you like to see your room?” Maria then asked, and you nodded as you stood up too, going to grab the trash bag. “It's okay, I got it,” Natasha mentioned as she bent down, picking it up. “It's just this way,” Maria said as she led you through a hallway. 

She opened a door that carried an empty name plate, pushing it open and standing aside. 

“We didn't really know what you liked, but we tried our best. If you would like to change anything, maybe paint a wall or get some decorations you just let us know okay?” Natasha said, and you nodded as you put your school bag down by the bed, sitting on it. 

“All this is for me?” you asked as you looked around the room, taking in all the objects already in it. The desk and cabinets were empty, so were the walls, but the room was massive. 

Natasha nodded with a smile, walking into the room and turning to the door on the right. She opened it and stepped aside. “This is your bathroom, and right there is the closet,” she said as she pointed to another door next to the bathroom. 

“I have my own bathroom?” you questioned in disbelief, and Natasha nodded with a smile. 

“There is another closet right here,” she said as she opened another door, a small, undeep closet revealing itself. At the door hung a mat with little pockets, all filled with different snacks and treats. 

“We didn't really know what you liked, so we just bought a little bit of everything. These are all yours and you can eat them whenever you like. If anything ever runs out or if you would like some other snack or treats, just let us know and we can get it for you,” she explained, and you nodded with a small smile as you stared at all the treats and snacks.

You had never really gotten any treats or snacks, and you didn't exactly have your own money to buy it. 

Maria stayed at the door, wanting to give you your space while getting used to the new environment. “We'll just go and get started with dinner, so we'll leave you to settle in a little bit. Is there anything specific you'd like to eat? We can always order something, I'm never one to skip a good take-out meal,” Maria smiled, and Natasha walked to her side. 

You shrugged, not really knowing what to say. 

“We could order pizza? Or maybe sushi? Anything is okay,” Natasha pushed when she realized you weren't going to say anything yourself. 

“Pizza?” you asked quietly, and Natasha smiled and nodded. “Pizza it is. Do you want a specific one?” Natasha asked as she pulled out her phone, and you shook your head softly. 

“Just a margarita pizza please?” you asked, and Natasha nodded.

“We'll just be in the kitchen if you need us,” Maria told you, and she and Natasha left the room, closing the door behind them. 

You dumped your clothes on the bed, throwing the trash bag aside and going through them. Most of them were old and worn, but they still fit so no one ever decided you needed new clothes. After you folded them all neatly you walked to the closet, surprised at how big it was. Your clothes didn't even fill 10% of the closet, and you wondered if rich people really needed that many clothes.

Natasha and Maria seemed like really nice people, and even though you'd never admit it, you were excited you got to be with them. 

Of course you'd never trust some so fast, but until now they seemed nice and decent. The closet full of snacks definitely made you like them a little more, but you were still hesitant. You'd been in other families where they seemed nice at first, but the moment you'd make a mistake they'd beat you. You shuddered at the thoughts, grabbing a little bag of your favorite candy you found in the closet. 

You sat on the bed and took out your stuffed bunny, sitting against the headboard and holding the bunny close. 

You were scared and intimidated at this new place, but you were also happy you weren't at the other home anymore. Until now, this place seemed like a much better home to be.

-------------------------------------------------------------

After dinner, where you had mainly kept quiet and tried to avoid the questions they asked you, you went to your room and went straight into your bed. 

You didn't sleep the entire night. You didn't know these people, and you were afraid they'd come into your room and hurt you. That happened once, in a foster family you had about a year ago. The foster father had gone into your room and he had touched you, hurting you more than you ever thought was possible.

Since that foster home, you'd always stay awake the first night, wanting to be ready if one of the foster parents did come into your room.

Of course, tonight, nothing happened. Natasha and Maria had gone to bed shortly after you had, and the entire apartment was quiet. When the sun rose the next morning, you knew you had to ask either Natasha or Maria for some electronic device.

You didn't have a phone or computer, but you were homeschooled and followed an online program. With all the moving around and switching homes, it was always difficult to find a high school you could consistently go to. And so, you had gotten an online course and some data to login. However, you'd need an electronic device for that, and you didn't have that. 

When you walked into the kitchen around 8 am, Natasha and Maria were already awake. Maria was sitting at the kitchen counter, doing something on her laptop as she ate some toasts. Natasha was scrambling some eggs at the stove.

When Maria noticed you, she smiled and closed her laptop. "Good morning. How'd you sleep?” she asked and you shrugged. “Fine,” you said even though you knew damn well you hadn't slept at all. 

“How do you like your eggs?” Natasha then asked, turning to you shortly before focusing on the eggs in the pan again. 

“Scrambled is good,” you said as you sat down at the counter as well, preparing yourself to ask your question. After you took a deep breath and Natasha put some toast with eggs in front of you, you looked up, not really facing anyone but the counter top.

“So I was wondering…” you started carefully, and both Maria and Natasha looked at you as they waited for you to continue.

“I am doing online school, and I was just wondering if there is maybe an electronic device I could use? I don't have a phone or anything, but I do kinda need it…” you finished, your eyes darting around to Natasha, Maria and then back to the counter top again. 

“Of course. We can do some shopping today, to get you some essentials,” Maria said as she got up, opening the fridge and grabbing some orange juice.

Your eyes widened slightly. They couldn't possibly mean they'd buy you a phone, could they? 

-------------------------------------------------------------

After breakfast you, Maria and Natasha had gotten into their car. Their very expensive, very beautiful car. Natasha drove as Maria sat next to her. After about half an hour's drive, you arrived at a mall, and Maria opened the door for you. You thanked her and got out, following Natasha and Maria as they walked inside. 

Once inside, the first place they headed for was an apple store. You were shocked to say the least, really hoping they weren't going to spend so much money on you. 

When you entered the store, a worker came towards you three, asking if you needed help. Natasha said yes and asked him for the best phone they offered. 

The worker led you there, and Natasha thanked him as she picked it up, examining it. You stared at the phone wide-eyed, but more so at the price. That phone was higher than 1.500 euros, and you didn't believe they'd actually buy that for you.

“Well, it looks great, what color would you like?” Natasha smiled as she went to pick up a box from the shelf. 

You shook your head in shock, not believing they'd buy something like that for you. “I meant… like a device you have… that I could use… I didn't mean…” you stuttered out, and Natasha smiled as Maria laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Listen, sweetie, we just wanna get you everything you need. I promise you that we want to do this, okay? And you don't have to feel guilty that we're spending money on you, because we want to,” she told you.

Natasha looked at you too, smiling reassuringly. “We have plenty of money, and we can buy this for you easily. I promise you,” she explained.

“Okay…” you said quietly, still a bit unsure. 

Natasha smiled and walked towards the phone cases, Maria, with her hand still on your shoulder followed her. “You can pick out any case you like,” Natasha explained, and you nodded as you picked out a clear case. Natasha smiled as she took it from you, putting it in her basket. Why did she need a basket? 

After picking out the phone case, Natasha walked towards the ipads, looking over them and settling on the most expensive one, convinced that that would be the best. 

You were about to protest, but before you could even open your mouth, Natasha turned to you. “You can't possibly do online school on a phone now, can you?”

“I really don't want you to spend so much money on me…” you told her, and she smiled at you before picking up the same color ipad the phone was. Then she turned to you, putting her hand on your shoulder. 

“We want to get you whatever you need, and the money is not an issue for us, I promise you. Please let us get you what you need,” Natasha told you, and you simply nodded. 

Natasha smiled and made you pick out a case, putting a keyboard case in her basket as well, claiming it was so you could use the ipad for school. You insisted you didn't need it, but Natasha just said they'd buy it just in case then. 

After the most expensive trip to a store you had ever taken, resulting in an iphone, an ipad and airpods you really didn't expect them asking if you were okay to go to another store.

You said you were fine, and so you walked into another store where Natasha and Maria got you all kinds of things. All things for your bedroom, either to decorate or use. They had told you to pick out whatever you wanted, and after a lot of reassurance you had picked out several books, notebooks, some pens, markers and pencils, and some other stuff you liked.

They also let you pick out new covers for your bed, and after you told them you were fine with the cover that was on now, they told you that was one of their covers so you could pick some new ones out. 

The cover currently on your bed was a new one Natasha and Maria had bought especially for your arrival, but you didn't need to know that. They wanted you to pick something you liked, and soon enough you left the store with some pillows, stuffed animals and new covers.

Everytime you came out of a store, you three had to take a trip to the car to dump the stuff you bought before you could continue your shopping spree, but at the end of the day you really had fun.

You felt a little bad that they spent so much money on you, but with their constant reassurance that they wanted to do it and that they had plenty of money, you felt a little better about it.

After you had gotten back home, Natasha and Maria both helped you put all your new stuff away, and you think you thanked them at least a thousand times for everything they bought you. After everything was put away, you went to the kitchen, sitting on the stool as the apple store bag was still on the counter. 

Maria started dinner as Natasha sat down with you.

You opened the bag and took out the iphone first, opening it carefully and setting it up. Natasha helped unpack the case and handed it to you when you had set the iphone up. 

You couldn't help but smile at your very first phone. You weren't old or anything, but you were definitely at an age where it was odd you still didn't have a phone. When you unpacked the ipad it was the same. You unpacked it and set it up, while Natasha took the cases out of the packaging and handed them to you. 

After everything was taken care of, you thanked them once again, and they once again told you it was their absolute pleasure. 

Maybe this foster home would be different…

(if you’d like to be on a permanent tag list, so you’d be tagged on every fic I post, please let me know:))

[strangersteddierthings]

Pumpkin Carving (A Halloween One Shot)

Pumpkin carving and a sleepover. An excuse for everyone to gather together on Halloween now that the Party has decided they're too old to trick-or-treat.

A pumpkin carving station has been set up in the Harrington's giant three car garage. Steve did debate setting it all up in the yard, less cleanup of the pumpkin insides that way, but it was pretty chilly, and Steve wasn't sure how long they'd all take to do the actual carving.

Does pumpkin carving take long?

Steve's never carved a pumpkin so he wouldn't know. There is no universe in which his mother would have allowed a pumpkin in her house, much less under the circumstance of then cutting it open and freeing it of its insides. While Steve has never participated in the act of carving a pumpkin, he knows how it goes. Hypothetically.

He'd needed to know enough to gather all the supplies after all, so a quick call to Robin (along with some gentle teasing and mocking) and he was set.

Eddie arrives first, having been volunteered to go get the pumpkins from the patch. It's not that Steve is scared of the pumpkin patch, or anything, it's just that Eddie's van would be better for transporting them.

Steve tried to offer to unload them, insisting it was only fair since Eddie had to load them, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and gets to work. It's not that pumpkins are extra heavy, but they aren't exactly light. And Steve knows that Eddie thinks Steve doesn't want his help because of how long it took Eddie to heal, but that's not the reason. Steve just...

Steve's just drawn to watching instead of helping when Eddie grabs a pumpkin under each arm, muscles flexing as he tightens his hold enough to keep them trapped between his arms and his sides and now Steve's left wishing, wistfully and not for the first time, that it was his thighs Eddie was wrapping those arms around. That it was him Eddie was hoisting up, perhaps holding against a wall and-

"Am I going to do all the loading and unloading?" Eddie bursts his thoughts by knocking their shoulders together as he passes by, already on his second round of pumpkin unloading.

"What, no, sorry," Steve turns to grab two pumpkins of his own. It's quick work with the two of them, then, to unload, and a short wait for everyone to start showing up.

Some biked, others dropped off by parents. Steve walks out to each car to chat and confirm that yes, of course they can stay the night; they won't be a bother and I'll keep them out of trouble.

Soon enough the garage is full of people, pumpkins, and noise. Lucas and Max have migrated to the corner of the garage closest to the door leading inside to whisper together as Lucas guts two pumpkins while Max describes what she wants on hers. Will and Mike have also set themselves apart to work out whatever it is they plan to carve on their own pumpkins. Dustin, El, Erica, and Eddie have plopped down in the center and just got to work. They aren't coordinating their pumpkins like the couples seem to be doing. They do seem to be taking it the most serious, though, with the absolute silence from all of them, concentration faces fully on.

Steve is off on his own, too. He's taken a seat about five feet from Eddie but he's the furthest from the door. He frowns down at his pumpkin, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He's not sure how to start. What to do.

He looks up from his pumpkin and over to Eddie. He's using a knife to saw around the stem of the pumpkin. Which, duh. Steve should have put that together. There has to be some way to remove the insides easily, so removing the top made sense.

Without trying to overthink it all, Steve stabs into the top of his pumpkin and starts sawing his own circle around the top. It's. Well, it's something. He wouldn't say sawing a circle is fun but it's not tedious and soon enough his knife returns to the starting point and... Hmm. He watches as the bit he just cut around sags into his pumpkin. Eddie's didn't do that.

Steve frowns down at it for a moment before grabbing the stem and pulling the top off. His face wrinkles in disgust at the stringy clump of pumpkin insides that hang from the top and he sets that down to the side quickly. He's realizing now why everyone else chose to wear short sleeves even though it's cold outside as he looks around the garage and sees everyone shoving their hands into the pumpkin, pulling stringy, seedy, strands of pumpkin out.

With a sigh, Steve rolls a sleeve up and plunges his own hand into the holes he's made and almost instantly rips his hand back out. Ew. No. Gross! Wrong! The feeling of the strands breaking under the pressure of his hand, the slightly moist feeling of the inside, the unexpected slipperiness of the seeds, all of it sends a shiver of revulsion up Steve's spine. He makes a soft gagging noise against his own will.

"You gonna be sick?" Eddie asks almost immediately.

"Uh. Oh, yeah," Steve says as he feels his face heat with an embarrassed blush. He can see that all eyes are on him now, which adds to his embarrassment on top of realizing the question he was asked and what he answered. "Wait, I mean no. I'm not going to be sick."

Eddie looks from Steve to his pumpkin, and back up. "Don't like the feeling of pumpkin guts?"

"It was just unexpected is all," Steve defends, even as the thought of sticking his hands back into the pumpkin sends another shiver through him.

"Unexpected," Dustin repeats back. Steve tenses but nothing else follows that. He looks over and Dustin seems to be having a silent conversation with Eddie judging by the stare down.

"Maybe I am gonna be sick," Steve lies, standing quickly and fleeing the garage.

God fucking dammit. Why is he so embarrassed about this? Why is he... he's hiding the fact he's never done this before, and he doesn't know why. They aren't going to mock him for it. Well. Maybe a little, but in the same way Robin did. Tease him because they love him. They wouldn't really be making fun of him. Except maybe Mike but Steve doesn't really care about his opinion anyway. Gave up on that a while ago.

He goes to the kitchen sink on autopilot, scrubbing the gross, now dried and tacky feeling from his hand. He's in the process of drying his hands when a voice startles him.

"Hey man. You okay?"

It's Eddie. Of course, it's Eddie they would send after him.

"Yeah," he turns so his back is to the sink, leaning back against it to look at Eddie.

"You never have to scoop out a pumpkin before? Did someone else do it for you?"

If anyone else had asked, Steve would think it was condescending. Someone mockingly asking after nannies or servants who would do the gross part of pumpkin carving for the little rich kid. But it's Eddie, and he's just curious and sincere. So, Steve says, "nah, man. Just never done this before."

Eddie's browse crinkle in confusion and Steve thinks he's so fucking cute. He wants to kiss the confusion from his brow. "You've never carved a pumpkin before?"

Steve just gives a shake of his head before shrugging. He wants to cross his arms, close in on himself, but it's Eddie. He's trying to not shy away from the people he cares about. He's trying to let them take care of him, too.

(It's been a process, since the defeat of Vecna. Learning to let people care about him. He's better at it these days. Robin said so and if anyone is an expert on him, it's her. He can't always trust his own opinion to be unbiased.)

"I'll scoop out your pumpkin if you still want to give pumpkin carving a try," Eddie offers, a soft, lopsided smile on his face that Steve adores. The bats took a good chunk of his left cheek, and the scarring is heavy, the muscles non-responsive, so every smile is lopsided, but Steve loves them all.

"Okay," Steve says, offering a soft smile in return but doesn't push off the sink. Not until Eddie approaches, taking Steve's wrist and tugging him along.

No one says anything when they return to the garage, nor when Eddie blows past his own pumpkin to sit next to Steve and grab up his pumpkin. Eddie looks down at the hole Steve's carved, a calculated look on his face. It's cleared away soon enough when he smiles as wide as his scarred cheek allows before he gets to work on the pumpkin. He cleans it out thoroughly before handing it back to Steve, then crawls across the floor to retrieve his own abandoned pumpkin, rolling it across the floor as he crawls back.

"Oh, wait. Can you go get me a marker?" Eddie asks, as Steve is examining his pumpkin, trying to imagine a face to go on it.

"Yeah," Steve says, glad to have a moment more to think about the face as he fetches a marker from his father's office.

He returns to most of the kids having already finished their own pumpkins. Unsurprising, considering how much time Steve spent just thinking about carving before he even started.

"Marker," Steve offers it out after he's sat down again, close enough that his knee is touching Eddie's this time.

"Thanks," Eddie takes the marker and adjusts so more of his leg is pressing against Steve's. "So, you can freehand the face if you want, or I could draw you a face to cut out? If you want."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure," Steve says, shoving his pumpkin towards Eddie who looks delighted by Steve's answer. It doesn't take him long to draw on a face. Triangle eyes, a little rectangle nose, and a wide mouth filled with jagged teeth.

Steve and Eddie carve in quiet, while Steve basks in the warmth of Eddie's leg next to his, touching his. He's never been sure if Eddie likes him back, not enough to announce his own crush, but sometimes... There are times like this that fill him with hope.

Steve doesn't even realize they've been abandoned to the garage until Eddie finishes his pumpkin, which is three bats carved artistically into the side. Steve is impressed, and when he turns to ask if anyone else is, there isn't anyone there.

"Oh. I didn't even hear them leave."

Eddie plops the top of his pumpkin back on, which reminds Steve he needs to do the same. He reaches for his top but Eddie beats him to it, craving the gross mass of sides that was stuck to it off before handing it over it.

Steve sets the top back on the pumpkin, and it immediately drops into the pumpkin. "What. Why did it-?"

"You gotta cut the top into an odd shape or at an angle. Otherwise, that happens. But it's okay. You didn't know, and I know how to fix it. You got some toothpicks in your house?" Eddie says, assuring Steve before he even has time to overthink it.

Can Steve be any more in love with him at this point?

"What?" Eddie whispers, eyes wide and face slowly turning red.

"What?"

"You just... you, uhh. Did you not mean to say that out loud?"

"Say wha- oh God," Steve registers what he'd thought, or apparently, what he said and now he and Eddie are just staring at each other, wide-eyed and unmoving.

"I'm not going to question if you meant it," Eddie starts slowly, clearly the more brave one of the two, "just. I need to know if you mean it, like, romantically."

"I did. Do. I-" Steve can be brave, too. He can. "I do love you. Romantically."

"Holy shit. I want to pull you in and kiss you so bad but my hands are covered in pumpkin guts and-"

Steve does it for him, both hands grabbing at his face and pulling him in.

His first time carving a pumpkin ends up being fantastic, even counting the kids flooding back into the garage to scream 'finally' at them.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

[ilovejeongintoo]

𝔸 ℝ𝕚𝕤𝕜 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Fantasy, Rich man Yunho x Thief Reader, Warnings: Handcuffs, implied mafia?, implied yandere behaviour, unprotected sex(smh), slight praise, name calling (dear) Wordcount: 3353 Not proofread

Yunho drives me mad, he's just so...ugh, there aren't words that are worthy enough to describe him. Also I wrote this at like 2 am.

Summary: A thrill-seeking burglary, driven by a craving for adrenaline, you break into the grand Jeong Estate to steal a priceless necklace. Equipped with skills from past heists you're dressed for stealth, the owner unexpectedly decides to make an appearance and punish you in his own way.

Out of all the things that you would do, this one was probably the craziest, no this is the craziest idea ever. Sure, you've done stupid things before but this one was going to take the cake, even if you were fully prepared.

Your mother had always told you, this hobby of yours would get you in trouble. For her you were a "normal" kind of adrenaline junkie, bungee jumping, paragliding, rock climbing, something that was in a controlled environment but would still get your heart racing. Your blood pumping. When that didn't satisfy you anymore though, you turned over a different leaf, starting with cliff diving and some urban exploring, graffiti, crimes that's what this hobby of yours turned into. Especially little crimes that involved stealing something, from a store, a jacket, a purse your hands were quite skilled at the task and the feeling you got from it was just too addictive to stop.

And after a stupid night with an even more stupid idea from your friends you were here now, a block down from the biggest estate in the city. The Jeong Estate.

The idea was stuck in your brain like gum on your shoe and you wouldn't leave until that itch inside of you was cleansed. The worst thing was, this was completely solo, from the planning, to going through with this.

It was simple really, sneak around the cameras, hopefully find some open entrance, if not you'd get entry in some way. You learned a few things about security systems from rich homes like these, they all worked the same, so you'd be able to deactivate it, you just didn't know for how long, that's why that was as a last resort.

You honestly looked like a burglar, the dark leather jacket, black jeans with an old black t-shirt and a black cap. In case you were somehow caught, they wouldn't recognize you.

You just had to get in, find something worth taking and then get out. And that undetected.

Interesting enough the whole layout of the mansion was on the internet, you guessed they like to brag about their wealth and how many bathrooms one could possibly need.

There were multiple interviews taken in the house, pictures of the outside, inside, around it, with a little bit of smart thinking you'd be able to sneak past any cameras where they wouldn't be able to detect you.

Because of their huge security set up, they didn't think to have any guards, the place completely empty, anyone that was going to try anything had a death wish. And you wouldn't pass up on the thrill of escaping that mansion with a little souvenir that you'd pull out and brag to your friends about.

You could already imagine the dumb, shocked faces they'd pull when you got back. You stepped out of your car, combat boots hitting the ground, you only got a small bag, as to not make your form any bigger. You decided the back was safer to gain entry, less cameras more blind sports as well, with the huge maze-like garden blocking your silhouette from everything, combined with the darkness of the night, this was going to be a walk in the park. your heart was racing though, not even inside yet. You checked various doors and windows hoping someone left at least one open with a house this big, poor luck.

You guess that meant plan B was officially going to commence. You whipped out your phone connecting with the security system in a matter of minutes with the closeness, there seemed to be a manual lever hidden just close to you, that was the only thing you couldn't find amongst the endless photos taken of this place. You opened a small metal box being faced with a control panel, thankfully each button had some words on them, not making you guess what each does. You clicked one and then another to confirm it, the cameras immediately losing their red recording light, and the alarm presumably being off now.

You grabbed a rock off the expensive looking assortment next to a little pond and smashed it against a glass door. Sliding your hand in and turning the knob, it slid open, and you were officially in. No going back. You gulped the nerves hitting a little harder, but your excitement burnt even more. Turning the lamp on your flashlight, you snuck around a little, figuring out which hallway you were in, looking at a few vases, might take one of those.

But you were actually on the lookout for a particular door, leading to a secret treasure room. The Jeong family apparently liked collecting stuff a lot, paintings, statues, jewelry. You were going to go for a specific necklace, only one in the world and it was here, so close to you. You moved further down, passing high chandeliers and a set of stairs. The doors couldn't be missed, big embroidery and golden accents making it stand out even more than everything that you've seen here yet, however that was possible. You pushed it open, startled of it not being closed. There wasn't anyone inside, thank God.

You looked around the room, in awe. It was filled to the brim, to each treasure a sign explaining it was from or what it symbolized. As you watched each one with interest your eyes landed on the glass in the middle of the room, encased in it was the necklace you were here for. What you would be taking home. You walked up to it, your boots squeaking a little on the oak wooden floor.

You pressed your gloved fingers onto the glass, admiring the piece inside. You would obviously have to break it and then sneak out again. You brought some equipment just for this, obviously they didn't have normal glass around these national treasures. You got a laser cutter for a pretty dime, and you'd leave with something worth every coin spent on this device. You put your bag down, going through it, setting up the little machine, turning on the flame and testing it a few times. You were just about to cut it when you heard some noise.

Which wasn't you for sure. You immediately panicked a little and turned the thingy off reaching for your bag and pulling it behind the counter of the necklace, hiding behind it. There wasn't any reason that someone would just come in here. Or was there?

You were mentally going through every scenario that was about to happen. Your palms sweating, heart bursting out of your chest. You had to calm down a little or you'd make stupid decisions right this second. The racing of your little heart was promptly stopped by the door creaking open, the clanking of shoes evident in the spacious room. Definitely dress shoes, definitely someone that lived here. It was okay. They didn't know you were here. They were probably just having some weird midnight museum tour here. This was probably just some rich person behavior, going to your own treasure haven at the dead of night, yeah, must be it.

The steps grew closer and thus louder. You prayed they wouldn't walk around the counter and see you, briefly you regretted ever coming here but you did get what you wanted, a thrill.

You held your breath when the sounds of those shoes stopped. Listening intently for what was about to happen and staying alert. Just when you were trying to get ahold of your breathing again, there was some fast movement, a click, a shove, and you were on the ground. Looking up, you saw your one hand cuffed to a bar embedded into the counter. And some very shiny looking shoes, that were now directly in front of you. You moved your gaze slowly up, black slacks, further there was a simple shirt and a black tie. Who the hell wears those in their own home? And finally, a rather young-looking dude, you'd have expected a man in his fifties by the clothing choice. The black-haired man didn't looked like he was in his mid-twenties, slightly older than you.

Your bows furrowed at that. His deep voice was the next thing that shocked you as he leaned down, setting himself on his haunches.

"Now what do we have here? A little mouse lingering in my house." There was no way that this was the Jeong Yunho, he was just way too… young, for a successful multi-millionaire. You didn't realize that you haven't responded.

"I was wondering what crawled in when I heard some noises, you ought to be more careful than that." He smiled mockingly.

You were trying to keep your gaze away from him, not wanting him to catch even a single glance of your features, he might just let you go. Who are you even kidding? Fat chance, you were lucky if you made it out of here alive now, genuine fear setting in.

He kept trying to move his face to yours, obviously wanting to look at the intruder that snuck in, but you just turned in the other direction. Having enough of your attitude he gripped your jaw in his hand, your free one trying to pry him off of you. He turned you to him and knocked the hat off your head.

You stared into his eyes, not wanting to get intimidated no matter how much money this guy had. You wouldn’t be intimidated by a pretty, rich boy that was born with a silver spoon.

"Happy now?" You questioned. His hand left your face.

"Oh, so she does talk, and she's got some fire." That grin just wouldn't leave his face, it was so goddamn punchable even if it was a shame to ruin.

Maybe violence was next on your hobby list of crimes. If looks could kill, he would be buried six feet under, your glare was burning a hole through his face.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of you visiting my home?" Any words that came out of his mouth made you want to shut him up. If it was with a fist or a kiss you honestly didn't care.

"Why don't you take a guess?" You wouldn't answer anything with a guy like this squeezing you into a little corner. Which was risky to say the least.

"Well… judging by the get up and the fact that I found you here, means you were planning on stealing something." No shit sherlock, for what other reason do people break in.

You gave him a deadpan look.

"Oh, come on, this is the most interesting thing that has happened here in a while, usually, people get caught by the alarm or cameras before even making it inside."

"Makes me wonder how you made it this far." He looked you over, studying you, analyzing.

This was probably the best time to convince him of letting you go, somehow. "Look, I'm sorry okay, this was stupid, I'll pay for the broken glass and just leave."

"See now, that just won't work. I can't just "let you go", that'll just make me look bad if it comes out that I just let little thieves like you come and go."

"I have to set an example." What the fuck does he mean by that?

You hadn't even thought about what kind of people lived here, for all you could know this was some secret mafia family that built their empire on corpses. Sure, sounded like it.

"I promise I won't talk; I won't do this again."

"You really expect me to believe that?" He raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"Trust me, I'll make sure you won't." Now that sounded like something a killer would say, you were fucked, so fucked.

"Please, look, I have family, friends, please just let me go." You looked at him a little pleading, fuck your pride and not getting intimidated. This was beyond anything.

You shook the cuff slightly, trying to slip your hand through it in any way. "Look I'll pay or whatever, j-just don't kill me." He seemed in thought about something, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek and then he stood up, your eyes following his long, slim figure.

"No." He curtly replied.

Okay fuck him and fuck reasoning with this asshole.

"I'm gonna cave your face in when I get out of these handcuffs, I swear." You glared. His smile grew again, this fucker was getting some sick satisfaction of seeing you seething in anger.

"Ouuu there's that fire that I was beginning to miss, you were begging so nicely a second ago." He twirled a stand of your hair. He grabbed at the cuffs unlicking it from the bar, getting your hopes up of being free when he clasped the now free shackle to your other hand. Your hands now cuffed in front of your body, he pulled at the chain holding them together.

He stood up, dragging you with him. "Girls like you only learn the hard way, don't they? Lucky for you, I know just how to handle your type." Anything he said sounded so suggestive, you don't know if the fear was activating some hidden side in you, or if his attractiveness eliminated any red flags in the situation. He tugged you along, crossing room for room way too fast for you to keep track of where you were and therefore not making you figure out where he was taking you, until he hauled you into a dimly lit room. A bedroom, okay woah, this was turning into one of your fantasies real fast.

"I'm feeling generous today, it's not every day where a pretty thing just turns up at my doorstep, so I'll even remove these." The restraints from your wrist fell to the floor, your hands massaging your wrists. "I'll let you off the hook" But? There had to be some twist. "You'll spend the night here, after all you wanted to be here." Yeah, to steal something, not to fuck a loaded dude.

You did consider it, he wasn't bad looking. But that fucking attitude was just so aggravating. "And what makes you think that I would just agree to that?" Your arms crossed in silent protest.

"Maybe the fact that you wouldn't land yourself in jail."

"You kind of interrupted my work so It's only fair that I get a little bit of a compensation for being so nice."

Oh, hell to the no, not this guy, nu uh. He looks like someone that would brag about this for centuries to come. You whipped around ready to leave; "I'll just turn myself in."

"Come on, didn't you notice the tension between us, are you that oblivious?"

Of course, you had noticed, from the first second you realized his hands were way bigger and that he was towering over you, had you thinking dirty. Like if he had just bent you over the glass in the other room. Or the hallway wall, or this bed. God there must be something wrong with you. Some adrenaline induced arousal that activated since you were caught.

You didn't notice yourself stopping nor did you notice Yunho moving up behind you until his warm breath hit your ear.

"Right, you did notice. I'll even gift you a little something to take with you, or you can leave with nothing right now."

He brushed the hair from your neck, kissing it slightly. You could just leave now, but his offer was too tempting. You whipped around, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him in for a kiss, before you could second guess your decision making.

He pushed you against a nearby wall, caging you in. He was so fucking big it felt suffocating in an intoxicating way. Like all your senses were filled with Yunho only.

The movements were rushed buttons falling off, his tie almost getting ripped apart. Your shirt and jacket being discarded in a matter of seconds. You called his name in between kisses, desperate to get him to move faster.

Only one of your legs was out of your jeans when he stuffed you with his fingers, you were hoping that your legs kept their strength, and your knees wouldn't buckle. It was getting increasingly difficult, the more fingers he added, the harder he thrusted, the deeper that he hit. You tried your best to hold onto his shoulders. You took notice of the large bulge pressing against his slacks and slipped your hand in. You stroked him making him bite his lip a bit, his brows furrowing in pleasure. Groans were the only things you could hear besides the wet squelch of your pussy. When your knees were going to give out, he pulled his hand from you, reaching over, grabbing a familiar object, clicking it onto you again but lifting your arms making you wrap your cuffed hands around his neck, your hands holding onto him. He lifted one of your legs getting closer to your body while his other hand moved down and pulled his length out of his pants.

A pretty thing from top to bottom, with just the perfect curve. Fittingly big for his stature. Your favorite part was when he started rubbing it against you, getting it wet, a vein that ran along his cock brushed your clit at the perfect angle. It made you cry out just a little louder for him.

"I might just keep you in my treasure room dear, you just make such cute noises."

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, not that you cared at this moment. When he slipped himself inside that's when you almost came on the spot, your insides were clenching so much around his length. Wrapping around him, it was so so warm. And when he started moving it was even better, the drag of your ridged walls pulling him back in when he pulled out.

"Yunho, Yunho, god ah."

His thrusts reached deeper than your fingers every could, than any man before him could. Yunho kept thrusting while alternating between playing with your boobs and circling your clit with his thumb.

"You're gonna kill me, you know that? o-my fucking god." He groaned after each thrust. Your stomach became so warm and tingly, it was only a matter of seconds before you'd cum all over his cock. It was after a particular calculated thrust up into your g-spot that had you seeing stars, tightening your arms around Yunhos neck and letting out a pornographic moan. The squeezing of your pussy had him coming just a moment after, not giving him the chance to pull out, not that he wanted to.

He spilt himself into you, driving aftershocks from your orgasm out of you. His thrust slowing down, to ride out his own, until his hips stopped.

He pulled back, your hole opening and closing a little and making cum dribble out of you.

"Can't have you waste that." He pushed some of it back in with his fingers. You moaned in hypersensitivity. Your legs completely gave out after that and he picked you up, carrying you over to the bed that would have been the more ideal place.

He untangled himself from you, you grumbled at the loss of contact. You just heard the click of the cuffs, your eyes closed in contentment, too tired.

He continued staying at your side, bringing you a glass of water, and pulling the blanket over you, making you fall asleep faster than you'd ever think was possible. Considering you were still in a stranger’s house, said stranger was inside your guts just a moment ago, so couldn't really call him that.

This definitely wasn't part of your masterplan, but you wouldn't change a thing.

When you woke up in the morning, Yunho peacefully sleeping next to you, you quietly dressed yourself and excited the mansion. Not forgetting to take a price, in the form of his ring and a note that read: "If you want your souvenir back, call me."

[deanstead]

I Have One Too

Characters: Dean Winchester; Leo Winchester (OC); Reader; Sam Winchester (mentioned)

Requested: yes, by anon and anon

Summary: Dean meets his son

Word Count: 800+

Tags/Warnings: Dad!Dean

A/N: Thank you so much for this sweet ask!!! By popular request, this is the other perspective of Dean meeting and bonding with Leo. This can be read on its own but highly recommended to read this in line with Welcome Home!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST

Dean paused just as he was about to step out of the library.

He’d been so caught up with everything - seeing you, you showing up with a kid in your arms that was almost a carbon copy of him, processing the fact that he had a son in the first place, and everything else in between he hadn’t really thought about this next part.

Dean could hear him laughing, which seemed to have the opposite intended effect.

“Dean?”

Your voice seemed to shake him out of the thoughts that were swirling in his head and he looked at you.

You paused when you saw the look in Dean’s eyes. It was almost foreign, a look that you might have seen before but didn’t see too often and it took you a moment before you realized what it was.

“He’s your son, of course he’ll like you.” You said quietly, reading his mind with absolute ease. “Come on.”

You gently pushed Dean out of the library.

Sam had put Leo onto the table right in the front and Leo was spinning his mini Impala around, seeming to have a ball of a time all on his own.

You nodded encouragingly at Dean, who approached Leo slowly, like he didn’t want to catch him off guard.

“Hey, Leo.”

Leo tore his eyes away from his toy car to look at Dean, his eyes flicking toward you.

You smiled and Leo took that as an approval but he looked back at Dean, blinking without saying anything.

“So you like cars, huh? That’s a cool one.” Dean continued, reaching out for another one that was sitting off by the side.

Dean warmed him up a little, playing with Leo, driving the toy cars around him, complete with sound effects. You watched, feeling your heart warm up, and you even felt the prick of tears.

“Actually, I have one just like that. Do you wanna see?” Dean asked.

Leo’s head snapped upward before he turned his body toward you.

You smiled and nodded at him. “You wanna go take a look?”

Leo nodded eagerly and you chuckled.

“Go ahead.” You smiled.

Dean gently reached out toward Leo, as if he was asking for permission and with barely any hesitation, Leo was climbing into Dean’s arms, eager to go.

Dean smiled, feeling the weight of the tiny guy in his arms as he hoisted Leo upward, before taking him out toward the garage.

“Car!” Leo yelled triumphantly as soon as he saw her.

“You know a good one when you see it don’t you?” Dean chuckled, supporting Leo on one arm before reaching to open the door of the Impala.

Dean reached in so he could put Leo right at the driver’s seat, which only served to thrill Leo even more. Leo looked around the car, his small body bouncing a little as he looked around, his own tiny Impala still clutched in his hand tightly.

As Dean watched him, he could already see it - working on the car with Leo, showing Leo everything he loved about Baby and more. And as that image pressed itself into Dean’s mind, Dean couldn’t help but feel a little worried about what the future held for them.

But he didn't have much space to overthink or worry as his attention was once again overtaken by Leo's yells of "vroom vroom", a direct echo of the sound effects Dean had made for him when they'd been inside.

The weather was a little chilly so Dean leaned toward Leo in the car.

“Hey buddy, let’s go back inside for today, alright?” Dean said gently.

Leo glanced back up at him, and Dean smiled. “Maybe we can go on a drive next time, what do you say?”

“Drive?” Leo asked.

Dean nodded with a smile and Leo reached out for Dean almost too naturally.

As Dean brought Leo back in, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, where you sat next to Sam, your eyes twinkling as you looked at Leo.

“Mama, we stay?” Leo asked.

Dean didn’t miss the way you froze, your eyes flicking to him, before you averted your eyes again and looked at Leo, as if you didn’t know how to answer him.

On impulse, fueled by a very real fear that he’d lose both you and Leo if you walked out that door again, he stepped right up to you. Leo, as if he could feel Dean’s emotions, put his small two-year-old arm around your neck, looping the three of you together.

There was a small silence, that was significantly less awkward than the silence you and Dean had shared in the library an hour earlier.

Dean then reached out for your hand and squeezed gently. “Stay.”

“I’m not going to lose you again. Not for anything in the world.” Dean added, after a short pause.

You smiled at Dean. “Yeah, we’re staying with Daddy and Uncle Sammy.”

Dean leaned in to give you a quick kiss, and as you stepped to the side to welcome the hug from Sam, Dean lifted Leo onto his shoulders, the bunker filled with his gleeful giggles.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

Taglist is open, send me an ask!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

[atzaurora]

질투-𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚

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✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

ᥴһ᥆᥆sᥱ mᥱ ᥆᥎ᥱr 𝗍һᥱm

𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓: Yunho

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: fem!idol!reader x idol!yunho

𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆: imagine (smut/suggestive)

𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑: group members, good friends, crushing, friends to lovers

.ᐟ.ᐟ𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.ᐟ.ᐟ: 18+/smut/suggestive content, MDNI!!!

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: y/n is jealous of all the fans staring at Yunho. he on the other hand makes sure to get that attitude out of her.

𝒘/𝒄: 1.237

𝒂/𝒏: sorry for not posting a lot, but for all the Yunho stans, here you go!! feel free to leave feedback and requests!

here's my 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕!

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Sign, talk, laugh. That's all you did the whole day basically. you guys had a huge fan sign and a lot of people came. all in all it was fun but you hated how they all looked at him.

Yunho has always been attractive in your eyes, but you never expected to actually catch feelings. well here you were, crushing over your own group member and having to look at him interact with all of those girls.

I mean you couldn't blame them, he was gorgeous so obviously they'd all fangirl over him. yet you could still not help yourself but feel jealous.

you tried your best continuing to sign the albums and chat with all the fans that came. every few seconds you found yourself glancing over at him, "having" to check what was going on.

he saw you. your glances burning holes into his skin. he knew those were looks of jealousy in your eyes. he didn't wanna be too bold tho. so he just sat there, continuing the convos, giving his best to ignore your behaviour.

---

"thank you all so much for coming! 8 makes one team! goodbye Atiny!" you all shouted into the microphone, walking off the stage, waving as you walked.

everyone was exhausted yet extremely thankful for the sweet interactions. "good job everyone" Seonghwa said, looking around happily. "let's go home guys and get some good rest" Hongjoong suggested, groaning as he lets himself fall back on the couch.

you nod "please, I'm tired" you mumble, avoiding Yunho's eye contact when he looks at you.

you can hear him chuckle to himself. "we need to talk." he whispers as he walks past you, outside of the building towards the car.

you look after him, grabbing your bags and walking after the members. what did Yunho want now?

---

the drive was awfully quiet, no one talked, Yeosang even fell asleep. but we were all tired so the silence was understandable.

we walk into our dorms, San practically carrying Yeosang inside, getting him straight to bed. "come on" Yunho nudges my arm, offering me a soft smile. you smile back, following him to his room.

"so..." you close the door, watching him as he sits on his bed "what did you wanna talk about?"

he chuckles, shaking his head "jealousy is not a good look on your pretty face, sweetheart"

you tilt your head, your eyebrows frowning "what's that supposed to mean?"

"oh come on, I could basically feel your eyes on me. don't try to act all innocent now. you were upset about all these girls wanting me." he says, his expression becoming a little more serious.

could you even talk myself out of this now? probably not. so you just say what you actually feel..."well I'm not thrilled about everyone staring at you, you know"

"I know, but why? you know I don't care about all those girls. I already know who i want." he stands up, walking closer

"what? Yunho, you're too tired to think, go to bed please." you walk a few steps back, shaking your head. he was out of it, no way he liked you back. out of all those girls. pretty girls.

"fuck no. I mean it, Y/n. I want you. no one else. only you" he whispers, sneaking his hand around your neck, moving your hair back.

whatever. you cup his cheeks. pulling him in. god it felt so right, his lips so soft.

the kisses started getting more passionate, more heated. he slipped his tongue in your mouth, tasting me. you groan as you feel him walk you backwards till the back of your knees hit the bed.

he lays you down slowly, his gentle hands moving over your thighs. "you're so beautiful." he whispers as you feel him hook his fingers into the waistband of my jeans, unbuttoning them.

Yunho's fingers slide under the fabric of your panties, you gasp, arching your back in anticipation.

he smirks against your skin before trailing hot kisses along your collarbone. he starts to lift up your top, revealing your stomach, ribs, bra...until your completely exposed.

he unclips your bra in a swift motion, tossing it were your jeans and top already laid.

he starts kissing you again, down your sternum, and finally reaching the hardened nipple of your breast. you moan loudly as he circles it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth, suckling gently.

your mind goes blank from pleasure as he alternates between teasing and pleasuring you.

suddenly, he pulls away, causing you to whimper in protest. "god you're so eager" he laughs, smiling softly yet tempting. "i wanna feel you, baby" he whispers, close to your ear. "i want you so bad Yunho." you whimper, feeling his fingers grazing over your wet hole.

he stops after a bit, making you groan at the lack of contact, but he then starts undressing himself, taking off his shirt, jeans and then sliding his boxers down, revealing his impressively large erection.

without hesitation, he positions himself at your entrance "baby are you sure?" he asks for consent. once you nod eagerly he kisses you softly and pushes inside, filling you completely.

the sensation sends shockwaves through your entire being, it feels incredible. he was big, you were pretty sure you could feel him in your stomach but it felt good.

he starts moving, bucking his hips forward, pushing more and more inside you, hitting your good spot. "mhm~ right there, Yuyu. please don't stop" you moan, digging your fingers into his back.

he starts kissing your face, first your cheek then your jaw, down your neck and up again. the kisses were soft and gentle while his thrusts were firm and hard but very pleasurable.

"you're doing so well, love" he mumbles in between kisses. you clench around him, making him groan and bite down on your neck.

"are you close?" he asks, looking down at you, a mark now forming where he bit you. "y-yes~" you whimper, biting down on your bottom lip, clenching around his cock again.

it only takes another few thrusts till you see stars, while coming all over his dick. he kisses you softly as you cum, murmuring small words of appreciation and praises.

Yunho rides out your high and after a few more seconds you feel him fill you up, the liquid leaking out of you. "good job, darling" he kisses you again.

---

he pulls out, hugging you tightly and covering you with his blanket "sweetie, you did amazing, I'm gonna be right back to cuddle you to sleep" he smiles at you, so damn adorable.

you nod "it also felt amazing. don't take too long, i wanna cuddle you"

he walks out of the room, coming back after a minute, with your pjs and himself being dressed as well. "there you go" he hands you your clothes

"thanks, baby" you put everything on as he starts talking again "so um, i checked and the others are all sleeping so i think no one heard." he says. "good, i wouldn't wanna take care of that" you chuckle and he smiles as you open your arms for him.

moving under the blanket with you, he holds you tightly, kissing your forehead "get some rest now, my darling" he says quietly, stroking your hair.

you nod, closing your eyes, both of you whispering an 'i love you' before drifting off.

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[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️FOURTEEN

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN

To say his sudden change in demeanor is confusing her, would be an understatement. Confronted with his raw strength and anger, she finds herself stuck in her own mind – until he pulls her out of it, with yet another face he's never shown her before.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Rough oral sex/deepthroating/choking. Spanking with a belt. Manipulation/mind break? ANGST! (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 4.1k

A/N: It's another Angst Episode. Poor girl got it rough in this one, I apologize in advance! (Reminder that this is a fictitious D/s relationship and nowhere near what an IRL one may or should look like!)

THIRTEEN 🟥 FOURTEEN 🟥 FIFTEEN

As she chokes on his cock with how he holds her down, her tears are hot, her mind spinning from lack of oxygen and how quickly he's changed faces again. Her stomach is tense, convulsing every time he pushes his length deeper into her throat, her mouth full of spit and bile and precum, and it's all dripping down onto his expensive pants, but he doesn't seem to care.

She feels miserable all over again, her body contorted, knees pressed into the hard space between the seats, those wretched toys still humming inside her because she didn't have the gall to turn them off completely when he'd asked her to choose. And she thought it was okay, worked in her favor, would make him proud of her. He'd been so sweet, his words, his gestures, his whole demeanor. All those praises. She was surprised, wondering what happened in that sex shop after she'd passed out.

Sucking him off in the elevator had been exciting instead of frightening, it had felt as if they'd have a bond now, she was his, and he was there for her, holding her, caressing her, comforting her. Of course he would ask her for things, and she would have happily sucked him off in the car as well, in her own pace, but he had seemed almost desperate, or angry, when he had forced her onto his cock.

She's confused. Why is he so rough again? What did she do? Did she make him angry after all? He denied it before, but maybe he's lied?

Her gurgling sounds fill the car, drown out even the engine, but at least they are proof that she is still here, still drawing breath, even if it's through her stuffed nose, in the rare moments he pulls her up by her hair only to push her back down again a few seconds later to take his cock all over again. Her throat feels raw, her lips strained and swollen, her whole body is tense, additionally fighting the sensations of the toys buzzing inside her.

The day has started in the worst way possible, had its few ups after that, but why is she even surprised about this anymore? He's treated her like this before, many times, oblivious and uncaring of her discomforts. It's her purpose after all, isn't it? To be his toy? But she still feels betrayed, disappointed, deeply disturbed.

She sniffles, another sudden gag reflex making her convulse so badly she feels her spit erupting from her nose. He still doesn't care, just keeps pushing and pulling her head, using her mouth like the hole it presumably is for him. She can't decide if she wants to sob and wail or just give in and choke already.

Somehow she loses all track of time, becomes numb eventually, lets him fuck her throat until he finally stills, his hand heavy on her head, pushing her down so much his pubic hair tickles in her nose while his balls spasm against her lips as he empties himself deep into her throat, his cum warm and sticky as the rest of it drips down and joins the mess she's already made on his pants.

He pulls her off and pushes her back into the passenger seat, where she slumps down, wiping at her mouth and nose before she succumbs to the misery burning within her, sobs, hiccups and quiet wails erupting from her hurting throat. She hears him scoffing, and when she looks over through hooded eyes and clumped lashes, he shakes his head, his face stern and hard as he wipes at his ruined pants.

“Look at the mess you made,” he says, his other hand flexed around the steering wheel.

“M'sorry,” she mutters hoarsely, forcing herself to move closer, ready to try to clean him up somehow, ignoring the sting inside her that comes either from her hurt feelings or the buzzing toys that she just can't ignore no matter how hard she tries. They always keep moving, rubbing against each other, poking deep and hard into her tense muscles, and she keeps clenching around them, already knowing she'd be sore later.

“Not good enough.” His voice cuts through her struggles, and she meets his dark gaze. Gone is the warmth she's found there earlier.

She sniffles again, wiping at her nose. Despite her misery, she feels that tiny bit of defiance flaring up inside her again. How dare he make her responsible for the mess when he'd been the one to force her to gag on his freaking cock the entire time! Where was she supposed to leave all the spit he created in her when he didn't allow her to swallow? Or breathe? She was fighting for her life while he tried to chase his pleasure. How is that fair?

A jerk goes through the car as he stops it at the side of the road. The sun is breaking through the clouds, there's a forest on one side, a wide field on the other. No other car around. She stares at him in confusion.

“Get out,” he then tells her, and she freezes, a deep shiver crashing through her.

“No,” she whispers, not as response, but in shock. He won't just leave her here, right? In the middle of nowhere? With no means to get anywhere? He can't!

His gaze darkens, his face getting harder. When he suddenly opens his door and gets out, her eyes follow his motion while she's too stunned to react properly, and when he rips her door open and grabs her arm, she can only yelp, pushing her feet down, fighting him a bit too much.

“No, please! Please, don't leave me!”

Her wail makes him freeze, a frown appearing on his stern face. “I'm not gonna leave you,” he clarifies, voice as rough as the grip on her arm as he drags her to the back of the car and bends her over it.

The warm metal burns through the thin fabric of her dress, her hands squeak on it as she tries to find purpose in her new position. Breathing hard and still crying, she can't see or hear much of what he is doing behind her, but then something hard and cold and somehow also hot and unyielding meets the back of her thigh, and she is screaming.

The pain is so intense that her vision reddens, her body jerking against the car, her head spinning out of control. It's a burning pain, a sting, her skin throbbing and tightening, and when it repeats on her other thigh, a whistle in the air, then a sharp crack, she knows it's his belt, the realization gone as soon as the pain crashes through her once more. And one more time, and one more, and she wails and sobs and cries and screams, her sounds echoing fruitlessly through the empty space around them.

He's only hitting the backs of her thighs, just below where the harness is draped around her butt cheeks, left and right, never the same spot twice. She feels her skin positively burning, and she's afraid it's all an open wound now, bleeding and oozing and never whole again. It certainly feels like it.

Eventually he lets up and lowers the belt, then moves his fingers over the abused skin. She whines breathlessly, unable to cry any more, the pain that throbbing thing all around her.

His hand hooks around her arm and pulls her back up, and she leans against him, her legs trembling too much to keep her upright. “W-why?” she croaks out.

“Why did I belt you?” he replies, his voice low and close to her ear. “Why not?”

She stiffens, slowly turns her head to him, blinking the last tears away. “What?”

“Do I have to give you my reasons for punishing you?” he snarls, clenching his jaw.

She stares at him, wondering where the man has gone who has told her he can't believe he'd deserve something as sweet as her. He seems so different now. Dark and dangerous, angry and mocking, unreasonable and mean.

“Y-yes!” she protests with the last bit of strength left in her as she clings to his arm. “I need to know what I did wrong! I want to be better!” Her voice is a feeble thing in the air, shrill and panicked, hoarse from screaming.

“What if I told you you didn't do anything wrong? What if I told you I just felt like hurting you? Hmm, what then?” he says gravelly, glaring at her. “You don't get to be better, it doesn't matter, you are a fucking toy for me to use whenever I want, understood?” He's raised his voice so quickly, she was flinching by the end of it, whining in confusion. “Understood?” he yells again, and she cries out, covering her ears while whimpering: “Yes, sir!”

Her reaction makes him pause, his eyebrows furrowing, before he rips her hands away from her head and drags her back around the car. Before he shoves her onto the seat, he hesitates, and she braces for more pain, but he just stands behind her, tall and intimidating, a deep shadow keeping the sun away from her.

And suddenly he pulls her back, closes the passenger door with a loud thud, then rips open the door behind it, before he points to the backseat. “Lie down, on your stomach, keep your thighs off the seat.”

Still more than confused and frankly hopelessly overwhelmed and aching in more ways than one, she follows the harsh words and crawls onto the seat, careful not to get her burning skin into contact with anything. She's now almost convinced he's belted her bloody, why else should she keep her wounds off the seat? And what if she makes a mess again? Will he punish her once more? Not that he needs a reason, apparently.

His reply still haunts her, that anger in his voice, the darkness in his eyes, the loathing in his words. She is at his mercy, she's always been, but he's never been this brutal with her. Or maybe he has but she never perceived it as such? Forcing his hard length into her virgin ass? Taking her in her sleep? Choking her on his cock? All of that was brutal, rough, but somehow she's never seen it. Maybe because he's given her something back, cared for her afterwards.

But belting her for no reason? Even though her insides have clenched around the toys with every hit, there has not been anything in it for her. It was only violence, pure and raw, and she doesn't understand it. She's just serviced his cock, made him come in her throat, let him do all that to her like a good toy, so why was he so angry with her?

Tears burn in her eyes again as she tries to find a comfortable position on the backseat, while she listens to him close the door and slip back behind the wheel. She rests her spinning head on her folded arms and closes her eyes, lets the hum of the engine distract her from the throbbing pain in her legs.

He drives for quite a while, and it's just this monotonous rumble beneath her. She's too wired to fall asleep, still too confused to make sense of anything. So she doesn't question it when he eventually stops the car and gets out without a word, locking it with a soft click, leaving her to stew in her dark thoughts.

Time passes, and she has no idea how much, and it doesn't matter. Her thighs are still aflame, her skin tight and stinging, and every single movement hurts. But what hurts even more is the betrayal she feels. She's done everything he's asked, and he still hurts her like this? Because he can? Is this what she signed up for by submitting to him? It doesn't make sense...

The thud of the trunk being closed rips her from her clouded mind, and she carefully turns her head a little until he slips into her line of sight when he sits back down behind the wheel and starts the engine. He drives off again, God knows where to, and still doesn't say a word, doesn't even acknowledge her.

The silence only adds to the dark void that seems to be eating her from within. A sniffle escapes her, and she stiffens at the sound, sinking back into herself, making herself as small as she can on the backseat. He doesn't react though, just keeps driving, the hum of the engine and the rumble of the tires the only sounds around her.

She is positively miserable by the time he finally stops the car again. It's all darkness, weighted darkness that pulls her down, keeps her at the bottom, in the pit of doubts and hurt and sorrow. And there he finds her, his hands tight around her waist as he pulls her backwards off the seat, not in a threatening way, but almost careful. She can't move anyway, doesn't want to, too far gone in her own mind to register anything anymore.

He scoops her up in his arms, somehow managing not to touch her hurting thighs, and carries her off. She has her eyes closed, doesn't care about where they are, what he's doing. Car doors are being closed, his footsteps crunching over gravel, something creaks on rusty hinges, the air around them becomes not as fresh, but stale and warm.

He keeps her on his arms, pressed to his chest in a comforting manner, but she can't enjoy it. Why should she? That's not her purpose. The noises around her melt together, paper crinkling, floorboards creaking, and then he's sitting down somewhere soft, and she flinches when she slips onto his lap, the tight skin of the backs of her thighs pressing against his legs, but only for a moment, before he lifts her up and arranges something beneath her.

When he puts her back down, she winces again, but this time the pain is numbed immediately by something cold, a soothing sensation on her burning skin. She dares to open her eyes, blinks at the light, breathes through her nose as she looks around. The first thing she sees is the colorful bag of frozen peas beneath her, peeking through her open thighs, and she inhales deeply, trying not to shift too much on his cushioned lap, then registers his hands on her waist and on her knees, holding her.

She can't look at him just yet, so she looks around. They are in a cabin of some sort. Lots of wood, dark interior, warm, cozy. Not that she can appreciate any of it with how hollow she feels.

His loud exhale startles her, and she hunches her shoulders, bowing her head, bracing for more unnecessary violence. But he doesn't move, just breathes through his nose in a way a cornered animal would. Slowly, carefully, she tilts her chin just enough to look at him from under her lashes.

His gaze is hard and cold and intense like she's never seen before.

“Listen,” he then says, his voice hoarse and low. “I'm only gonna say this once...” She raises her head a little more and fully looks at him, her heart beating faster. “I'm sorry,” he breathes out darkly, words that should feel more genuine, that seem to cause him great discomfort, words he probably never uttered before. Her eyebrows rise up in surprise.

“I didn't mean to hurt you,” he continues, ignoring her reaction, his eyes lowered as he stares at her thighs and his big hand spanned across them. “I... okay, maybe I wanted it, but you didn't deserve it. You did nothing wrong.”

His words make her head spin. She can barely make sense of them, so she just keeps listening because he doesn't seem to be done.

“I am not a good man,” he says, his hand starting to rub over her bare legs, the touch warm and soothing, if it weren't such a loaded situation. “Maybe I wanted you to remember that. I take what I want, and sometimes...”

A groan escapes him that makes her flinch, in turn causing her to wince as she shifts on the cold albeit uncomfortable sac of hard peas. The grip of his hands gets stronger.

“You...” he starts, his eyes moving back up to meet hers. She shivers under the intensity. “You're doing things to me. You're changing me... you make me... regret things I would never have regretted before. And, baby,” he adds, his hand moving to cup her chin, gently holding it, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip, while she just stares at him, stunned by his unexpected confession. “I regret treating you like this. You've been such a good girl, maybe a little too good? But that's not your fault, do you hear me? I didn't expect you to be like this... so beautifully submissive...”

He licks his lips, his eyes wandering over her face. She's still only staring at him, unable to say or do anything, and she probably shouldn't either, no matter how much praise he has for her. Because deep down, she doesn't trust his words anymore. He could snap at any second now, just like that, unprompted, so she tries to minimize her movements and reactions to not give him any reason to hurt her again. He can, and he will, she knows it. He's unpredictable like that.

“You are too good for me,” he goes on, quietly, eyes still holding her hostage. “I definitely do not deserve you... but... as I said, I'm not a good man, I don't run on a moral compass. I take what I want, and I still want you. You're staying with me, even if you hate me now. You're mine, and mine alone.”

She should be glad he won't push her away, won't leave her like she initially feared. His possessiveness means she can continue to have the life he's promised her. The life without worries, without having to think for herself. He will care for her, he's said so, and she trusts he will continue doing so. But by punishing her for something that isn't her fault, how can she be sure he won't do it again? On a whim, because he can?

“I will try to be better,” he says, as if reading her mind, deep creases on his forehead, his eyes dark with emotion, something she's never seen before. ���I won't hurt you again, not like that, I promise, okay?”

She stares at him, furrowing her eyebrows, feeling new tears burning beneath her lashes. He sounds genuine now, truly troubled by what he has done. And she may have believed him if he wouldn't have kept talking.

“I will still punish you if you don't listen to me, if you disobey, you know that, right? But I will not... let my anger out on you. I promise,” he repeats, tightening the grip of his fingers around her chin as he stares at her, and she stares back, flustered and confused, that black void inside her filled with uncertainty and doubts, grief and... sympathy?

She hates feeling miserable. And seeing him like this, regretful, concerned and visibly struggling to get these words out because he probably never had to reflect on his own actions like this before, she should hate this too. Any form of conflict she hates. But something warm settles in her stomach as she keeps watching him, how he looks at her, waiting for any kind of reaction from her. Desperate to be forgiven, or believed, or trusted again.

Well, maybe not desperate. She's sure he doesn't care that much. He could just continue the way it was, by using her however he wants without giving a damn about her. But maybe that isn't their dynamic after all. It's never been like that before. He used her, yes, without consent, rough and brutal, playing on her inexperience and her submissive nature, but he's always praised her during whatever ordeal he's made her do, cared for her afterwards.

There was a balance between all those sexual acts he forced upon her, there was light in the darkness, and sometimes the darkness wasn't as bad when he gave her something back. The times he made her come still echo in her mind, experiences she's never had before. And how he cuddled her after, caressed her, held her close, wiped away her tears, before he'd create new ones...

But that balance got disrupted by one single act of violence she still can't fully comprehend. He was angry because she's changing him? But isn't that a good thing? Is she taming the beast, but the beast doesn't want to be tamed? Probably. So it is her fault? But what is she supposed to do differently? He wants her to submit and she does, does what he asks of her, doesn't fuss about it, she's good, he said so. But then it's his fault for getting influenced by how good she is? Yeah, that's on him!

Caught in her own head, being none the wiser the longer she thinks about the whole situation, she keeps staring at him, breathing a bit quicker, her heart beating harder, the pain throbbing against the slowly melting bag of peas. The longer she locks eyes with him and the longer they just sit in loaded silence, the more she realizes something.

It is on her.

She is the submissive, she has to give in, it's on her to clear the tension. Of course she has no idea what that means, and if she's even right, not knowing anything about the matter anyway, but it's what feels right. She knows he won't do anything more, he's already shared his thoughts with her, which he didn't have to do, but he's tried to smooth the waters she finds herself drowning in. He did his part. Now it's on her.

Following that inborn instinct that made her submit to him in the first place, she slowly raises her hand until her shaking fingers brush against his chin, then move along his jaw before clammy little fingertips press against the tense muscle on his cheek. He flexes it beneath her touch, eyes following her every move.

Shifting on his lap (and the peas), she turns to put her other hand on his shoulder, anchoring herself, ignoring the pain of the burning welts on her skin, the toys buzzing away inside her, all the voices in her head telling her to turn the other way, to run, to get away, to stop.

But she doesn't stop, she pulls herself closer, cups his face and tilts it downwards slightly. And he lets her, the creases relaxing, and when she leans in fully to press her lips to the corner of his mouth, he closes his eyes and sighs deeply, his breath warm on her lips.

His arms close around her body, pressing her against him, as he mirrors the gesture and brushes his lips against her cheek. “I'm sorry,” he whispers barely audible, despite not wanting to repeat himself, and it makes her smile softly.

“I know, it's okay,” she replies quietly, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him another peck, before his mouth finds hers fully for a slow but searing kiss.

Parting her lips, she lets his tongue in and meets it with the same slowly growing hunger, and as her mind empties, all those doubts and fears and confusing thoughts pushed into the back once again, she finds herself forgiving him, and she knows she shouldn't, she can hear the voices telling her not to, to hold a grudge, to not trust him, to keep fighting, but this is her life now.

He is her life now. He is all she has, and she can't afford to let this go, let him go, to lose this. She needs him, she knows that now. The strength in his arms, the warmth in his body, the affection in his kisses, the power he holds over her.

She wanted this, wanted him, and if this is part of their deal, then so be it. As unhealthy and disturbing and wrong it may be. She needs it.

THIRTEEN 🟥 FOURTEEN 🟥 FIFTEEN

End notes: The rollercoaster ride continues.

Like I mentioned in the notes above, please know that this is NOT a realistic representation of a Dom/sub relationship. If anyone, Dom or not, treats their sub/partner like this, that partner has to get the hell out of there! This is abuse and manipulation and a whole lot of other bad things! (And it's not on the sub to give in like that...)

But also remember that this is FICTION, these things happen in my mind and on whatever device you are reading this on. Nobody got harmed during the making of this chapter, I swear!

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Sunday!

TAG LIST: @untamedheart81 @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN

ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN

[t3ddyd0ll]

some Yandere!Kidnapper hcs (before they took you)

the first time they followed you home was the same day they first saw you

you were so intriguing, simon HAD to learn more about you

being very, very good with tech, it was only a week later that there were cameras in your house and a tracker in your car. he was tempted to microchip you, and almost did, but just put a tracker in your phone instead.

if you work at a place where you have your own office or cubicle, you'd best believe there's a camera hidden there too!

he spent a lot of time learning things about you

he'd follow you where ever you went at first, but eventually he started breaking into your house while you were gone to learn more from there

he read your journal, he went through your drawers and closet, he took notes on your decor and special items. he even looked through your fridge and took notes on what he saw you liked

he was always very careful, too. never making the mistake of not knowing when you were coming back, always making sure things were in their correct places before he left.

but as the weeks passed, he got more antsy

he wanted to be with you so badly that he started waiting for you to come home

they'd hide under the bed or in the closet, behind the bookshelf or in the dark of the kitchen when you get up for a glass of water

then they started taking your things. and truly, it wasn't stealing, you're going to see those things again when he takes you! but it did break his heart just a little that it made you so upset..

he spent so much time preparing your room for you. when it was finally done he spent some time down there with his computer, watching you in your apartment and pretending you were there with him

he ate meals at the same time as you almost every day. it always killed him a little inside when he couldn't match your schedule

he talked about you to his friends and coworkers as if you were already dating, even though he was a stranger

he also talked to you a lot, but you couldn't respond through the cameras </3

sometimes they would leave presents for you (flowers, clothes, jewelry, things correlating with your hobbies, whatever they thought you'd enjoy!) and they'd always get sooooooo happy if they saw you using them. if you didn't, it would make them sad.

pictures. soooooo many pictures of you.