#for the past 3 days i have been walking around so much and today i can sit around all day and get some drawing in

[calyptramoths]

nothing to do today i can finally rest...

[darkbluekies]

Christmas tendencies

Yandere!king x fem!reader

Summary: spending Christmas with Edmund can't go wrong<3 can it?

Warnings: Edmund not being nice, in fact being quite naughty, jealousy

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: i thought it'd be a waste to not post this when it was so near completion! So please enjoy and have a merry Christmas if you do celebrate it♡

As if on purpose, the snow has graced the earth for Christmas after not showing itself for the entirety of december. But now, a thick layer of snow covers everything that was once dead and grey. You can’t help but feel excitement. Maybe Christmas with Edmund won’t be hell after all? 

You’re standing in one of the gigantic windows, looking out over the castle grounds—the very same you’re not allowed out in. The castle’s gardeners have decorated every bush, every tree, with lights and decorations. 

“You’ve been standing here for a good forty five minutes now, my jewel”, Edmund says as he walks over to you, fixing his golden cufflinks. “How much more interesting can it get after ten?” 

“You don’t get it”, you reply over your shoulder. “The gardeners have spent a lot of time decorating the grounds, shouldn’t one get to admire their hard work?”

You feel how Edmund comes up behind you, sneaks his arms around your waist and buries his chin into your shoulder. 

“The staff has put a great detail into the interior too”, he mumbles. “Why don’t you stare at that for an hour or two?”

You scoff. 

“I think it’s pretty”, you reply and turn your eyes out the window again. “With the snow and everything. Besides, I’ve already inspected every decoration inside, I helped hang them up.”

“You did, and it’s very pretty. Just like you. I like your dress.”

It’s a red velvet dress reaching down to the floor with long, cape sleeves. 

You turn around to get a look at him. He's wearing a black suit with loose white pieces that puff out. Golden cufflinks and a white bow. His fluffy dark hair has been brushed back, face newly shaven—although there never was anything to shave to begin with.

“You look like you've been tortured”, you joke.

“Haha, funny”, he replies sarcastically, clearly not impressed. “I've told them time and time again that I have an extremely sensitive scalp but no one listens, they force me to do silly hairstyles like this. I think I must have lost at least half of my hair.”

You reach to fix a strand of hair that escaped his hairstyle. You can feel him shudder under your fingertips.

“You’ll live”, you say. “Besides, you look more grown this way.”

“Do I?” Edmund smirks proudly. “Do I look manly?”

“Don’t push it.”

He scoffs. 

Weirdly enough, Edmund has agreed on letting you out of the castle today. Just because it's a special day. The townsfolk are having a market that you have begged to visit and who is Edmund to deny your Christmas wish?

“Are you ready, my love?” he asks and takes your hand. “The carriage it out on the front yard. Let’s get this over with.”

“Can’t you at least pretend to be excited?” you ask with a sad pout. 

He sighs and rolls his eyes before nodding. 

“I’ll have to take a long, scolding bath right after coming back”, he mutters. “Who knows what kind of diseases they can carry? Oh, you’re taking that bath with me, by the way. My Christmas wish.”

He’s like a child when it comes to your bare body, getting eyes wide as moons when he gets to see the most vulnerable parts of you. It confuses you. In his past he has allowed himself to a majority of women and their bodies, so why does he look at you as if he’s never seen it before? 

It’s one of the few times you see him without his cocky exterior. He looks at you with eyes of gratitude, as if showing yourself to him is the greatest gift of mankind. 

Edmund holds your hand tightly as you walk out to the royal carriage. The driver holds the door open for you, but Edmund insists on helping you up in it. He sits down in front of you. The carriage is decorated with golden details and small cherubs.

“You don’t have to look like you’re being driven to your execution”, you say and raise your eyebrows. 

“I’m not happy about this”, he says. “This is something you want.”

“Can’t you be happy for me, then? Please, Eddie?”

His cheeks take on a red tone. The nickname has only been used by you, ever. You gave it to him, you’re the only one that is allowed to say it. The firs time you had said it, he hadn’t known how to react. He had been staring at you with large eyes, wondering what prompted you to give him a nickname when no one else had ever imagined to do such a thing. At first, he was unsure what he thought of the name. He was king Edmund. Had once been prince Edmund. Rarely Edmund. Never Eddie. 

“Fine”, he says and clears his throat, trying to play it off. “I’ll try. But don’t call me that when we’re there.”

“Are you scared that the townsfolk will lose respect for you if they hear that you have a cute, little nickname?” you giggle. 

Edmund rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward. 

“No”, he says, smirking devilishly. “Because I don’t want other people to know what you call out in bed.”

Your jaw hangs open in shock and you grab the pillow behind your back, hitting him. Edmund covers himself with his arms, laughing. 

“Watch the hair!” he shouts. 

“You didn’t like the hair anyway”, you remind him. 

“It’s Christmas, you’re supposed to be nice. Don’t be naughty!”

“Naughty? Who the hell started talking about naughty stuff? You started it!”

Edmund laughed. His blue eyes glittered. 

The carriage rolls into the town. You turn your eyes out the window to look at what you’ve been watching from afar. You get out together, Edmund holding onto you so that you don’t fall. The townsfolk keep a distance, knowing that the knights will go to attack if they come to close. Their bright eyes watch on as if they’ve seen something extraordinary. And maybe, you think, for them this is something extraordinary. 

Their eyes follow you to the christmas market. 

“All eyes are making me shy”, you whisper to Edmund. 

“Drink it all in, darling”, Edmund replies quietly. “They worship you, but not as much as I do … and if they try I’m going to kill them.”

“Be quiet!” you hiss. 

Edmund scoffs and rubs your back with his hand. You walk through the streets to the town’s square where multiple small sheds are put up, full of candy, baked bread, knitted goods and alcohol. While you walk around chit-chatting with the vendors, Edmund stands close behind you, a hand on you always. A warning, to everyone around you. You are his, and no one is going to forget that—absolutely not you. 

You buy something from every stand and insist of carrying it yourself. Edmund can’t understand why you want such … cheap crap. He can give you the same things but done well, made by professionals who cost him a fortune. He doesn’t let you eat anything and keeps a constant, watchful eyes around. 

“Smile a bit more, why don’t you?” he mutters in your ear. 

His jealousy is like a wildfire, spreading through him quickly and dangerously. With no easy way to stop it. 

“Edmund”, you whisper quietly. “Stop it.”

“You bought so much from that man”, he continued. “What did you hope to achieve?”

“Edmund!”

He stays silent the rest of the Christmas market. As soon as you get back to the carriage, he can’t keep quiet anymore. 

“Those are so fucking ugly”, says as the door to the carriage closes. 

“That is so unnecessarily mean”, you hiss back at him. “They don’t have what you have. They do their best. And, for having as little as they do, I think they look great.”

You hold your new treasures in your lap closely. 

“I don’t want to spend more time with you if you’re going to be like this”, you mumble without looking at him. 

You’re happy for your new things. But he doesn’t understand. Edmund sighs heavily, clenches his jaw and nods. 

“Okay”, he mutters and takes your hands in his. “I’m sorry … but I could have given you so much better things. If you wanted new mittens, I could have given you them. These things … who knows what could actually be in them?”

You put on the hand knitted mittens. 

“Take them off”, Edmund says, but he doesn’t sound angry or demanding like before. “Darling, my jewel, I’m serious. I don’t want you getting a rash, or something.”

“We’re taking a bath when we get back, don’t we?”

Edmund sighs and gives up. You hold up your hands.

“Aren’t they kind of cute?” you ask. “A little?”

“Fuck no.”

“What if I had made them?”

“You wouldn’t have. If you had knitted mittens, they’d be a thousand times better.”

“You are so mean.” You keep your eyes on your hands. “You were jealous out there too.”

“Of them? Of those filthy peasants?”

“Of those men.”

Edmund leans back in his seat, jaw tightening. 

“Men”, he scoffs and turns his head towards the window. “I wouldn’t call them ‘men’.”

“Childish jealousy doesn’t look good on a king”, you point out.

“You like it when I’m childish though. You laugh, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“You don’t need to be jealous over them. I don’t know them.”

“Everyone wants you. And it makes me sick.”

“Everyone wants you too.”

“They want to be me. But they want you. And I will never let that happen. You are mine.”

“I know. You’re the last person to let me forget that.”

When you get back to the castle, the two of you walk straight to the bathroom where the maids have poured a hot bubble bath that is burning to the touch. Edmund holds you close to him in his arms. 

The rest of the day is spent in the big living room, in front of the gigantic christmas tree that needed a dozen workers to decorate. Edmund wanted the entire town to be able to see the lights from his tree. 

“Merry Christmas, my love”, he says and holds out a red box.

You remove the wrapping smd open the box, finding a necklace with large, round pearls. It's heavy in your hands, and even heavier around your neck.

“These pears cost me quite a lot”, Edmund says and touches the pearls carefully. “But they're cheap in comparison to what my love for you is worth.”

And he means it. He really does.

[snaileer]

I’m a Size Medium, Thanks - 2

Part one: https://www.tumblr.com/snaileer/766471879423885312/im-a-size-medium-thanks

Danny stares into the eyes of what has got to be the grumpiest looking 12-14?10? How tall are children?- year old he’s ever met. And he grew up with Sam!

Danny looks back through the door, hoping to everything that an adult walks through. He is disappointed.

“Well?” The boy snaps, foot tapping.

“Uh, can I help.. you?” Danny says, voice ticking up. That’s what you’re supposed to say at a job right? Or maybe the kid wasn’t supposed to be here, “Do you need to call someone…?” He hopes not, he doesn’t know how or if the shop has a phone, and his… well his is wired through a realm of the dead so enough said there.

“My name is Damian Wayne.” He says primly. And expectantly.

Danny looks outside again, past the neon sign he specifically hadn’t turned on, then back at the Damian kid, blinking. There’s no way this was that ‘Mr.Wayne.’

The kid rolls his eyes impressively well then drops his glare back onto Danny, “Has this absurd incense burned away whatever meager sense you were born with? I am here to have a so-called ‘reading’ with a medium.”

If Danny hadn’t seen this Damian kid walk in with three whisps of shades wrapped around his arms, Danny would have questioned why, but he did, so he doesn’t.

He does, however, say: “Aren’t you a little young… to be like.. talking about death or something?” Though honestly, the incense is a real concern, Danny hadn’t even lit any today, Claire had just left it burning and the whole room was saturated.

“Will you fulfill your job description or not, you peasant?” The kid grits out.

Danny would really rather not. Like really rather not. But nOoo, here he was, waiting for a portal that could show up at any time, pretending he was a medium for a 7 year old just because he could talk to ghosts.

Danny sighs and drags himself around the counter to go into Claire’s weird little seance room. Maybe the fumes will kill him before the embarrassment does.

The kid follows.

Danny drops himself into Claire’s chair with weirdly plush armrests for still being so uncomfortable.

“Alright then, let’s get this over with. I’m Danny, the -ugh- medium. Whatdya wanna know?” Danny says as he kicks his leg out to hit a shade getting agitated and grabby by Damian’s feet. They got way too much of a spiritual boost from this room for Danny to be comfortable with it.

Damian watches him with a raised eyebrow, still not sitting down, “Aren’t you meant to lead the seance?”

Danny’s lip curls in distaste, he huffs a sigh and lets his shoulders drop, opening his mouth to tell this 9-year old something easy about one of his shades and be done-

He spots a sticky note stuck on the crystal ball.

-Danny, don’t forget, the showmanship is important! I trust you know how to meet expectations! Happy first day!

- Claire <3

Danny feels his face go deadpan. He was going to have this woman committed. That’s what he was going to do. She could be studied for the degenerative cognitive effects of being freaking bazonkers.

Danny plucks the note off the crystal ball and crumples it, letting the trash drop to the abyss that is Claire’s plush carpet.

He sighs, looking back up at Damian. The kid snaps his head towards him from where he’d been poking around the curtained walls- weirdo- but Danny beats him to the snappy comment.

“You got any spiritually charged items? Or like… something?” Danny says, taking a guess, he can make the thingy glow, say some nonsense, get paid, and close.

Damian narrows his eyes at him, but slowly moves to sit in the other chair, perched on the edge of the seat. He pulls something from his pocket and sets it on the table.

Pearls.

It’s a clump of shiny white pearls.

Absolutely dripping in ectoplasmic blood stains. So lovely.

Does Claire have biohazard gloves because oh gosh-

Danny hesitantly reaches for the pearls, lifting the strand between two fingers as he looks between it and the 12 year old. “You sure this is what you want to ask about?”

The kid’s glare turns challenging, mocking, “What? Admitting you are nothing but a charlatan?”

Danny grimaces, “Not quite. I mean…” He looks at the pearls again, then at the shade trying to hack away at the kids neck, “There’s definitely someone or something attached to this it’s just… not .. yours.”

“Tt,” the boy clicks his tongue at him, “and how exactly would you know that, charlatan?” Damian levels a mocking look up and down at him.

Danny’s eye twitches as he grimaces a smile, “Part of the job-“ brat. Danny doesn’t say that. Danny can’t say that. Danny has to deal with death obsessed TODDLERS who want to talk about some rando’s gruesome murder just so he can eat tonight. Or find somewhere to sleep. He doubts this will be enough for both.

Maybe if he’s dramatic enough.

Alright get to it then, Danny.

He sighs, dimming the light with Claire’s little remote- he is not so far gone as to turn them green like she had- and actually focusing his energy on the pearl necklace.

“What are you-“

Danny holds up a finger at Damian to silence him, which surprisingly works. He closes his eyes and starts trying to absorb the vibes of ectoplasmic remains as slowly as he can.

Feelings of course come with it and- well what’d ya know, he can definitely feel this attached to a ghost somewhere in this city.

“It’s a woman’s… younger than she should have been when she…”

He can hear Damian scoff, “Obviously, anyone could tell me that.”

Danny rolls his eyes under his eyelids, debating the merits of opening one to glare at him when his eyes are definitely glowing.

“She’s still here but-“ Danny says instead, trying to pull on the connection wandering out into the streets, “She can’t come here here.”

“What do you mean?” The boy snaps.

Danny tries to focus harder on it himself, he’s never done this before, tried to find or communicate with a ghost from an object… it was like Pointdexter and his mirror.

“She’s stuck somewhere… somewhere more important.. it’s dark and narrow and Danny mentally rears back as images flash into his mind. Accompanied of course by a woman’s scream.

An alley. A gun. A man stepping in front of her to protect her- no not her- a kid- Damian- not Damian- looks like-

Danny opens his eyes and drops the necklace. There’s barely any ectoplasm left on it.

Fine with him, he never wants to touch it again. But yuck that means he absorbed it!! Oh ewwww-

“Well?” An impatient voice asks and- oh yeah that’s right, the rude ass kid.

Danny pushes the pearls across the table with a finger and looks up at him, “Woman in an alley, that familiar to you?”

Damian’s eyes narrow, “Anyone who knows who I am could tell me the same.”

Danny snaps, “I don’t-!“ This is a child Danny, a child, he takes a deep breath, “Well she was scared for the kid, and now is… proud of him? There’s a lot of concern there, but she still watches him I guess, so that’s all I got for ya.”

Damian scrutinizes him for a minute, silent. Darn, weren’t mediums supposed to be vague as heck so that anything could apply and the person would find their own meaning? But did it count if he was just translating the vibes off a shade half a city away?

“This is…. acceptable.”

Danny nearly sags in relief and moves to stand, “Cool, then-“

“Wait.” The kid holds up a hand, “You said something regarding a disparity in the proposed ownership of the apparition you believed to be related to this jewelry.”

Danny blinks at him dumbly.

Damian scoffs again, “That the apparition attached to this necklace was ‘not mine,’ as you said??” He snarks, putting air quotes up.

Danny slowly sinks back down into the chair. “… Well yeah I mean..” does he tell this 8 year old about the slightly murderous shades he’s got around him? “You have… you have a couple… apparations… yourself. Not related to the pearls that is.” Danny says hesitantly, eyes skipping over said shades.

Damian jerks his head to follow his eyes and Danny shirks back, eyes back on the kid.

“Who are they? Tell me now,” Damian demands, standing to loom over the table.

Danny puts his hands up in surrender, “Whoa, I don’t know about that, they don’t really seem too happy with you-“ Another one tries to slice his hand through Damian’s neck, “I think you did something to them or made them angry at some point. I don’t really think you should try to contact them-“ Danny winces, that could end very badly. Thank goodness for limited ectoplasm access.

Meanwhile, his answer seems to have only made Damian more upset, his eyes wide as he stares down at Danny.

Suddenly the kid turns and stamps towards the door, leaving Danny to hurriedly push the chair out and chase after him to the main room.

Except-

When he gets there Damian is already shooting hushed insults at a man standing amongst the crystals.

The man looks vaguely like Damian, black hair, blue eyes, lithe build, and oh also- surrounded by shades of course.

These ones seem less vicious at least.

Please don’t be here for him. Please don’t be here for him.

Danny really doesn’t want to try and fake his way through another hour or however long it’s been of that.

“Hey there! I’m Dick, Damian’s brother!” The man says suddenly, pushing Damian aside and coming forward with a cheery grin, “Thanks for humoring him!”

Danny tilts his head to see Damian’s scowling face behind the man. Right.

“Uh huh… I’m Danny.” He says, trying not to be distracted by what he’s pretty sure is a baby elephant’s ghost behind him.

“You’re the medium right? We were just so interested to see if that old family heirloom would have anything or not. We-“

“We?” Damian cuts him off with a scoff, “I will meet you in the vehicle Richard. I will not spend another minute in this house of charlatans.”

They both watch as the kid turns and stomps out the door, uncrossing his arms only to open the door and stomp out. The stupid bell rings merrily.

This time it’s not Danny who sighs.

“I wish he wouldn’t say things like that,” Dick says wearily, “I grew up in places like this.” There’s a note of nostalgia to his voice. Danny just eyes the bowl of ‘fertility’ crystals warily, what kind of place??

Dick must see him do it because he huffs a laugh, “I grew up in a circus originally,” he explains, “So psychic places always just kinda remind me of my auntie’s tents.”

Danny glances at the elephant shaped ghost again, “Wow that makes so much sense actually.”

The guy raises a confused eyebrow at him.

Danny coughs awkwardly, waving it away, “So, money?” He claps, “I’m guessing you’re paying since Damian is…” Danny trails off, opting not to make a final guess on age and embarrass himself.

Dick laughs again and they go over to the counter, “Yep, here-“ He pulls out his wallet, rifling through cash before pulling some out, “Cash only yeah? This should be enough.”

Danny stares at the stack of slightly rumpled bills, “But- huh?…” that was… that was so much…

“Oh I added extra since I’m sure he probably said some things he shouldn’t have, don’t worry about it.”

Dick is already halfway out the door when Danny reloads and jerks upwards, “Wai-“

Could Danny really stop him? Should he? He needed this money but… he stops to count it. $20..40..60..80..100..120….140……160….180……….$200.

Danny blanches. He lurches for the door, no way he can take this much money just for basically acting as a glorified ecto-translator.

Danny stops in his tracks as he steps outside the shop and spots Dick and Damian speaking to a third, much older person, over the hood of a sleek black car.

This person, of course, also has several, several, shades around them.

What the hell was wrong with this family?

Damian turns and glares his way.

Oh ancients what if they were part of the mob or something.

Danny spins around on his heel-

And smacks straight into the glass door of the shop.

…

Ow.

Danny rubs his nose as he fumbles around for the door handle, acutely aware the death covered family was probably staring at him.

He grabs the handle and pulls-

Danny freezes, hand on his sore face stopping. He opens his eyes as he yanks again. Nothing.

Oh heck, he just locked himself out didn’t he?

No please no, they were so definitely still staring, no way they weren’t. Danny pulls again and it finally-

He looks at the door handle in his hand.

Then at the door still closed in front of him.

Then back at the door handle.

Just the door handle.

Crap.

Danny nearly weeps, clumsily fitting the door handle back on and still adamantly refusing to look and see if Damian and his absurdly rich family has left yet. Other people on the street are also starting to stare. The same reason he can’t just use his powers.

He finally gets the handle back on and gingerly lets go of it.

Ok. Deep breath.

Claire warned you about this. With a sticky note, but all the same. Extra key is taped on the bottom of the fire hydrant right outside the shop. You’ve got this.

Danny turns, kneels, and frantically begins trying to find the key on the absurdly dirty fire hydrant.

His hands come away black with grime, but thankfully he has the key.

He puts it in the lock and turns it, hearing what may very well be the newest sound of his nightmares: a snap.

Most specifically the sound of the key snapping in Danny’s very hands.

Danny stares at the half of the key still held between his fingers.

Did he do something to this city? Was this his fault? Could he not just sit in a closet and wait for the portal to open and go home?

Danny sags against the door, and resigns himself to his fate. Maybe he can go get food… with the money he left on the counter. Great.

Danny peeks his eyes sideways and catches the guy, Dick, finally getting into their car.

Okay, just a tiny bit just a bit. Danny holds the key again, focuses on the lock in the door jam and….. intangible!

He yanks the door open and jumps inside, door closing against the flutters of quickly fading shades on the street.

And more than one scream at them but hey that’s not his problem.

Mostly.

Danny revels in the cool lighting of the shop, glaring at the stupid broken key in his grimy hands. He drops the useless bit of metal on the counter, pockets the cash and wipes his hands on the backside of one of Claire’s million wall curtains.

It leaves a black stain that basically disappears when Danny folds the fabric over it.

Oh well.

Technically the shop was still open.

And technically, Danny didn’t know if the lock did or didn’t work right now.

He moves to find whatever storage closet Claire used to store her absurd number of crystals.

He finds it- finally- and using the keys he left in the store to begin with, he is able to unlock the perfect place to sleep tonight amongst several packages of…. Some kind of incense powder… or something. He doesn’t really care because that plan of hiding in a closet till the portal opens? Yeah, Danny’s putting that into action right the frick now.

He bends down to start to lay out his sweatshirt over the cardboard bed-to-be.

A bell rings in the distance.

Danny is going to destroy that bell on the door, he swears it.

[dollfacefantasy]

CRY IF I WANT TO ♡

pairing: negan x fem!reader

summary: life has been different since you've been taken to the sanctuary. you're not sure how you fit in here. some may call you one of the wives, but you don't think that's accurate. maybe his pet? his doll? as the days pass, you're not sure it really matters. the distinction doesn't get you any closer to escape.

cw: nsfw (18+), dark fic, smut, dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), kidnapping/captivity, stockholm syndrome, coercion, forced ddlg/daddy kink, humiliation kink, dacryphilia, violence (from negan, simon, and reader), hurt/comfort sorta

wc: 10.9k (oops lol)

a/n: ermmm... hehe yeah. i've been wanting to write this so i hope someone likes it. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <3

kinktober slot: day 13 - mindbreak (i think)

"Rise and shine, little lady. We got a lot of things to do today."

Your eyes flutter open, the bright light from the window in front of you broken up by the silhouette of the man at your bedside. The sight of him, even just the outline of his body, sends a nauseating crackle of dread through your bones. It's a feeling you can't verbalize of course - not if you want this day to resemble any sort of pleasant.

"There she is," Negan says, speaking with his signature cadence that made you want to rip out your hair, "How'd you sleep, babydoll?"

"Fine," you rasp as you slowly sit up. The mornings were the only time you could get away with dull answers like that. Any small bit of attitude could be blamed on you being 'cranky' rather than feelings of hatred that hadn't been broken down by this point.

He smiles at you, his rough hand cupping your jaw.

"You're so pretty in the mornings," he mumbles, sweeping a thumb over your pouty bottom lip.

You pause for a second, but so does he. Like he expects a reply. Unfortunately, you know the words he wants to hear. Swallowing the last sliver of dignity you have, you force out the response you'd been trained to say over the last however-long.

"Thank you, daddy."

He grins even wider if that's possible and pats your head. "You're welcome. Now let's get you dressed. Like I said, daddy's got a lot to do today."

You get out of bed and follow him over to the dresser that held your outfit for the day. The chill of cold air bites at your legs as the lack of blankets leaves them exposed. The generator had been out for the past day or so, leaving the Sanctuary victim to the harsh Winter raging outside. You were hoping he'd take that into account when picking your clothes, but you didn't hold out too much hope.

The two of you shuffle around the gray furniture of Negan's room. Even though you'd been in here more times than you could count now, you still marveled at the quality of the chairs and sofa. Items like these seemed luxurious with how the world was outside these walls.

When you reach the dresser, you follow the routine you'd become used to. You peel the small shirt you're permitted to sleep in off and drop it in the basket nearby. Your panties are next to go. You pull the dainty garment down and toss it to the same place as your top.

You can feel his eyes on you with every move you make. They watch how your breasts bounce when freed from their confines. They admire the curve of your ass when you bend over. They glimmer with smug satisfaction as you stand there nude before him.

"I'll tell you what. I never get sick of seeing this," he teases.

You offer a weak smile in return. The lack of energy almost seems to please him more.

He walks around to stand behind you, giving you a light pat on the ass as he does. His hands land on your hips first and then slide up to cup your breasts. He pulls you back, positioning you flush against his chest.

"You know I'd keep you like this all the time if I could," he murmurs in your ear, "Sweet and ready for me. Ripe for the pickin' whenever I felt the need."

The deep, gravelly rumble of it seems to trigger a flicker of heat in your lower belly on instinct, and you despise yourself for it. Shame burns so hot in your heart, it threatens to take the nausea you felt earlier into a full on dry heave. You're glad there's not a mirror in front of you. It's easier to keep a docile look plastered on your face when you don't have to stare yourself in the eyes.

The rough pads of his fingertips pinch and tweak your nipples, causing you to squirm a bit where you're standing, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of a noise. You can feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your neck.

You choose not to say anything to his last statement. There's no guarantee that he hasn't actually considered that, and you don't want to find out. Displaying you in that way in front of everyone doesn't seem like his style, but back when he had you lined up on your knees with the rest of your group, you wouldn't have imagined yourself ever calling him daddy either.

As you'd quickly learned in regards to most things around here, the risk just isn't worth it.

"I'd never do that to you though. Don't think anyone could keep their hands off if they saw all of you, and I just can't have that," he whispers, calming your fears for you. He pulls his hands away from your breasts and steps back to grab the pieces he'd be putting you in today.

He starts with panties. This pair is pink and ruffly just like the last. You step into it with rehearsed timing. One foot then the next. He slides them up to your hips and lets the elastic snap into place against your skin.

You had no clue where he got this shit. You didn't want to believe that his hold on his men was so strong that they'd waste an entire supply run raiding a Victoria's Secret, especially for women they never even got to touch.

It wasn't worth thinking about though. It's not like discovering the origins would spare you from wearing the damn things every day.

Next, Negan shakes the wrinkles out of your dress. You step into that too, just like you did with the underwear. Looking down, you catch a glimpse of the garment.

It's just as humiliating as all the rest he makes you wear. The fabric is bright white and baby pink. Like everything else, you have no idea how it was kept so pristine. The waist is accentuated with a pretty pink ribbon wrapped around it, tied into a large bow at the front. It's extra tight up top and melts into a puffy skirt down below.

He shimmies it over your body and yanks the zipper up in back. The dress conforms to the shape of your figure, leaving little to the imagination in terms of how much the neckline shows and how high the hem of the skirt sits.

Spinning you around, he whistles when he gets the full picture.

"Good God Almighty. Pretty as a picture," he praises, reaching out to pinch your cheek.

Again, you force yourself to smile.

He'd already dressed himself for the day before getting you up, so the rest of the time before you leave the room is spent working through the remnants of your morning routine. He takes you into the bathroom connected to his room to brush your teeth and do your hair.

"Say ah, sweetheart," he smirks before jamming the brush into your mouth.

He's not careful or attentive. He only does it long enough to let the weight of humiliation settle in your stomach. It's always obvious when it kicks in. You get this look on your face like that of an abandoned puppy. Only then does he let you spit and move on to the next task.

He styles your hair into something cute, though you hate it anyway. Like the dress, it's only intended to make you stick out. To draw attention to your status as his possession.

The last thing he does is put your socks and shoes on. Your feet get covered in a pair of frilly ankle socks before he slips a pair of chunky sneakers on you. At least if this place got overrun and you had to bolt, you wouldn't be totally fucked.

"You ready to go, honey?" he asks you when the first part of your torture has finally come to a conclusion.

Again, you nod while looking up at him.

He grins at you. "You're quiet today," he says.

"Sorry, daddy," you respond. The way he said it sounded like teasing, but you could never be too careful.

"Don't be. I like it," he says.

You don't know how he does it, how he deflates you so easily without even trying.

He turns and grabs that stupid bat he carries everywhere, swinging it to his side before facing you again and sticking out his hand.

"Got my two favorite girls, now we're really ready to go," he says. He gestures with his fingers. A small impatient reminder. "You know the rules."

Of course you know what he's referring to. Always hold daddy's hand when you leave the bedroom. One of the rules he'd prattled off to you when he first brought you here.

You reach out and take his outstretched hand, earning a kiss to your head.

The way he'd been holding his arm caused the leather sleeve of his jacket to ride up a bit. Beneath the stiff fabric, you could see the fading scar you'd given him around the same time you'd been informed of the rules. Two crescent shaped marks in the pattern of your teeth.

You can barely stand to look at it now. All it does is bring back memories of when you still held hope for escape or rescue. Back then, you'd thought it'd only be a matter of days until Rick or Michonne burst into the small bedroom they were keeping you in.

The day you'd sunk your teeth into him, he'd just finished giving you one of his speeches about your new life at the Sanctuary. According to him, you'd be so much happier here. Sure you couldn't see your family, but now you had someone better than them. You had him. And he would spoil and take care of a pretty thing like you in the way you deserved. Show off to the rest of your old group how generous he could be.

He'd reached forward to pinch your cheek just like he'd done earlier today. You wanted to smack him away, but he had your hands bound. So you did the next thing you could think of and bit him. Hard.

His eyes burned with fury you hadn't seen since. You can still hear in your mind the way he yelled, shouting "Goddamn it" so loud that the walkers out at the fence probably heard.

After that was a bit hazy. He'd snatched that limb away from you before bringing it back and striking you hard across the cheek. You'd nearly fallen off the bed from the force.

"You little bitch, you try some shit like that again, and I'll knock your fucking jaw loose," he growled before yanking you up right and forcing you to look at him.

Involuntary tears leaked from your eyes as you glared up at his face. Blood oozed from the stinging wound you could feel inside your mouth.

That cut had healed by now though.

You squeeze his hand harder while walking down the hall out of his room. Even though it was the hand that struck you, it was the only thing you had to hold onto now. 

Your brain tries to compartmentalize him nowadays. There's Negan, and there's daddy. Negan is the one who gets mean. Negan is the one who yells. Negan is the one who killed your friends. Daddy is the one who cares for you. He keeps you safe and healthy. He'd never hurt you like that. You didn't think you'd survive with a shred of sanity without that distinction.

He feels your little grip and squeezes your hand in return. That's what daddy does.

You stay close to his side as he guides you on the walkway that looks down on the commotion of the main room. Even after what you guessed had been a couple months, if not more, you still didn't like this place. Everything was so transactional. No one cared about each other. It was all about what everyone had to offer. That was by design of course, but it didn't make you any less critical of it.

Your eyes scan the clusters of people below. Although you weren't allowed to socialize on your own, you were starting to get a grasp on the cliques here. Negan's closest advisors all seemed to amalgamate in one area, spare the guy with the burnt face. The table closest to the window was where most of the soldiers ate while the one by the door seated the workers.

You weren't completely sure what class you fit into here.

The most obvious guess would be the group you're about to encounter, Negan's wives. But there are stark differences between you and them that prevent you from feeling camaraderie.

The two of you approach the room where he keeps this group of women. He maintains a tight grip on your hand as you slip through the doors. The disparities between you and the others become obvious as soon as you're within a few feet of them.

All of these women get to dress in black. They stand tall in heels, have earrings dangling next to their faces, and for some, a red tint painting their lips. All of them get to openly glare at him. They don't have to hide their hatred behind a feigned smile or soft laugh.

You know it isn't right to be jealous of them. They're suffering too. This isn't a happy situation for them either. But god, you can't help it. Envy nearly sears a hole through your heart every time you come into this room. What you wouldn't give to be one of them. To be allowed to drink and talk with other people. To not be under the constant threat of punishment.

Despite all these thoughts swirling through your head, you manage to keep your mask on. A simple, thoughtless look on your features as you stand next to him like an oversized accessory.

He looks down at you before dropping your hand.

"Stay right here for me, sweet thing. Daddy's only gonna take a minute," he says.

He stalks off to the back corner of the room with a woman you'd come to learn is named Sherry. They speak in hushed tones, so you can't make out what they're saying. You figure it's about one of the girls sneaking around with some other guy. That's what it's usually about when he makes a stop here with you in tow. Even with their status elevated above yours, they don't get to escape the wrath of his possessiveness.

You stand there awkwardly, arms crossed over your midsection while your weight shifts between your feet. No one tries to talk to you. You can feel their eyes on your pastel form, but their gazes don't hold curiosity or interest. It's pity.

In the beginning, you thought they were looking at you with jealousy. After all, you got your own cell and then graduated to Negan's bedroom while they had to share amenities.

But they weren't naive like you had been. None of them wanted Negan's attention. They didn't want to be his pet or his dolly or whatever the fuck he would classify you as. They had each other, and they got to share the load between all of them.

You sigh quietly and look down at the sparkly trim of your white sneakers.

He finishes his conversation with Sherry and then migrates across the room towards a blonde, crying girl. They speak at the same volume as him and Sherry. It's not worth trying to eavesdrop on.

Instead, you patiently wait the couple minutes it takes for them to finish up and for him to return to you. When he walks back over, you can tell the discussion hadn't been a positive one. His shoulders seem weighed down by whatever information he'd gathered from them.

But the dark cloud above him fades away as his hand slips back into yours. He leads you out of the room just as you'd come in and continues walking with you.

You hesitate but decide to try. "Are you ok?" you ask softly.

His head turns slightly to cast you a look. For a moment, it seems the daddy act has fallen away. He looks at you like he would any other woman who asked him that. Cold. Analytical. But the persona makes its reappearance seconds later as he pulls on a smirk for you.

"Just fine, honey. You don't gotta worry about me," he answers.

You know you should just nod and shut up, but it drives you crazy being led around like a child expected to be seen and not heard. So you decide to try again.

"Did they do something bad?" you ask. You hate how weak your voice comes out. There's no spark to it, no bite or sharp edge. All of that, he'd extinguished in you.

He drops your hand and drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you to his side.

"What are you so curious for, huh? You know something about it?" he responds.

You shake your head. Your arm rises and wraps around his torso.

"No. I just don't like when you're upset," you say. You lean your head into his chest to really sell it.

"Oh-ho, look at you. Turning on the charm," he chuckles, "I am just fine, sugar. I swear it. Sometimes those girls give me trouble, but it's nothing I can't handle."

You decide to just take it and nod this time. 

He looks at you with satisfaction. "They can't all be like you, y'know? So well-behaved," he praises.

The compliment makes your blood curdle. You couldn't stand that he would act like obedience was your defining trait.

When you were with your group - your family more like -  you would never have been described as obedient. Whether at the prison or Alexandria, it felt like every other day you were sneaking off to try something. You were always quick to spring into action, never the type to let someone belittle you. Rick got on your ass about deviating from plans in spurs of emotion more than anyone else. Maybe that's how you wound up here.

You had tried to stop them from taking Daryl. On that dark night in the woods, surrounded by the ring of headlights, you had tried. You didn't rush at Negan like your friend. Not wanting someone else to get their head bashed in, you were more subtle than that. But you attempted to get in the way of the guys carting him off. That's what landed you here. Tucked under his arm, the very weapon that took away two people you love swinging a foot away from you.

But you swallow down all of this rage and nod again. You nuzzle into his chest, a way to conceal the tightening sensation in your throat and the sting of tears at your waterline.

This is the worst part about Negan, you decide. The way he makes you act like you want it.

From your first day here, he made sure to tell you over and over how he's staunchly against rape. He's not a monster. He's not that kind of guy. No, no. You are a prisoner, so yes, technically here against your will, but never in a million years would he violate you in that way.

And he'd stuck true to that. Whenever you screamed or cried or yelled "no" on a loop until he shook you around like a bobble head, he always backed off of his advances. He never copped a feel or slid a wandering hand in your panties while you slept, never held you down or physically forced himself on you.

Instead, he broke you down until saying yes seemed like the only sane option.

You didn't want his affection? That meant you must not want to talk to anyone at all. For days. You didn't want to sit in his lap? Maybe you'd prefer kneeling by his feet for a week, in private and around everyone else. You didn't want to sleep in his bed? Fine. You could sleep on the concrete floor without a pillow or blanket while the heat was out.

You reflect on all of this as the two of you trot through the boxy halls. He takes you around on all his errands for the day. You stop by the doctor's office, inventory, and Dwight's room. All over the place. You stay quiet the whole time. busying yourself with your thoughts as you stay attached to him.

Everyday the line between survival and free will becomes blurrier. You tell yourself that you have to be like this with him. You'll be worse off if you don't act the part of the sweet, adoring girl he wants. But then sometimes you wonder if you truly are becoming obedient. Like a wildcat tamed into a lazy house pet. You almost never resist his touch anymore. You even go to him for comfort sometimes.

The idea kills you, so you deem it best not to think about for now.

Rather, you focus on guessing what the rest of the day would hold. It's already the afternoon by now. The sun hangs low by the tree line, shimmering into the Sanctuary through the rectangular windows across the walls. He wouldn't have a meeting with the lieutenants today. Those were almost always around lunch time. You didn't think he'd spend it with one of his wives either. If that was the case, he usually gave you a heads up in the morning.

The most likely possibility you come up with is the dilemma from earlier. You had never been invited to see the culmination of those though. Normally, he kept you safe and sound in his room while he tended to matters like that, ready to provide him some stress relief when he finished.

But things can always change, and now it seems like that's the case.

He guides you back into the main room. A crowd has gathered down below. You can't see the center point of their conglomeration. All you can sense are the nerves vibrating between everyone.

Their feet shuffle around on the hard concrete flooring. They look between each other with anxious eyes. Hushed chatter clouds the area until you and Negan begin to descend the stairs. That's when they all go quiet. Mouths close and pupils snap to the position of their leader.

You look down to lessen the ache of humiliation that came with accompanying the center of attention. The few times you had scanned the crowd for others' reactions, seeing if you could find a sympathetic gaze or outraged expression, all you found was animosity. The male workers and soldiers leered at you. They smiled and smirked, visibly amused by your girly outfits and docile disposition. On the other side of the aisle, the women glared, taking in the details of your appearance with disgust, like somehow it was your fault you got toted around like this.

His voice booms out to his audience as he takes step after step towards them.

"You all know what we're here for today," he starts, "We got simple rules 'round here, but some people still seem to have trouble following 'em."

Your hand stays linked with his as the two of you reach the landing.

"Watch your step, babydoll," he murmurs to you before continuing his speech. Your cheeks burn with shame.

"It feels like I'm doing this every other month. It's getting ridiculous," he lectures, "I don't like having to be so harsh. Truly, I don't. But rules are rules, and I don't know how I can make myself any clearer. They are not optional."

He walks further into the room with you. Being level with everyone else, you can see more of what's happening. They're gathered around a furnace. Dwight stands near the opening to the flames, clearly preparing something. Another man sits a few feet away. Over in the corner, the woman from earlier is looking at him and crying.

Looks like your guess was correct.

"So we're gonna do this again. Hopefully it's the last time," he concludes.

The crowd parts as you and him head towards the center of the room. He leads you over to an empty spot near the wall. Dropping your hand, he cups your jaw and makes you look him in the eyes.

"Stay right here for me. Daddy'll be right back," he says.

You nod and then watch as he turns away, waltzing over to where Dwight stands.

While your eyes are up, they can't help but catch on somebody familiar standing at the front of the crowd.

Daryl.

Your heart stutters, and you can see on his face that his does too. He looks worn down. Eyes dimmed and face hollowed. His clothes, dirty and ill-fitting. You start to feel tears pricking at your waterline from the sight. You weren't the only one they'd broken down.

In him, you find the compassion you'd been searching for. The look that told you at least one person here didn't take enjoyment from your suffering. But it comes from someone who truly can't help you. Who's in a situation as bad as your own.

You sniffle and try to wipe away any beginning tears before Negan or someone who would tell him notices.

The loud creak of a metal door opening drags your attention to the furnace though. You watch as Dwight pulls out the item he'd been preparing. A burning, metal iron becomes the new focus of everyone in the room.

Upon seeing the small object, so many things connect in your head. You know what's going to happen. You realize why Dwight's face is scarred. You understand why that woman is crying. And you know no one is going to stop any of this now or in the future.

Your heart pounds harder, and your breaths become shaky. Tears blur your vision further. You dig your nails into your palm to try and ground yourself, but it doesn't help. The scene in front of you has whipped your mind into a frenzy. You haven't felt this bad since the early weeks of being in this place.

This stupid fucking place. You hate it. You hate how cruel it is here. How disconnected and lifeless everything feels. You hate him for being the only one allowed to really live. You hate everyone else here for letting him get this powerful.

It's a complete spiral whirlpooling in your mind, only made worse by the fact that you have to keep it contained. You try to tell yourself you just have to wait it out. This couldn't take more than five minutes and then you could go back to the bedroom. You'd be ok. You could take off this itchy dress and put your hair back to how you like it. You could kick off these shoes and hide yourself beneath the warm blankets. None of these people would be around, all you'd have is the quiet between those walls where daddy could make it all better.

As you're in the process of mentally talking yourself down, Negan takes hold of the iron. To free up his hands, he offers Lucille off to someone nearby. Your eyes follow his leather-clad limb to the neck of the bat and then up to its new handler. You see Simon.

You have to look down now. If you don't, everyone here will see the look of pure terror on your face. You close your eyes and rein in whimpers that threaten to spill from your lips. Everything feels fuzzy around you, intangible and like your hands would drift right through them. Your head heats up, the sensation making you dizzy. You try to steady yourself by leaning back against the wall, but the cool, flat surface does little to ease your nerves.

It does even less when you hear his voice closing in on you.

"Hey there, princess," he starts, voice laced with mockery, "You feeling alright?"

You're not looking at him, but the image of his stupid face projects with HD clarity in your mind. You swallow hard and nod.

Laughing lowly, he comes to stand beside you. "You sure about that? You're looking kind of lightheaded," he taunts.

"I'm fine," you choke out.

His hand darts up and grabs your jaw. He doesn't gently guide your eyes where he wants them to look. He yanks your face in his direction like an unruly child with a doll.

"I don't know about that. You're looking kind of rough," he says while glaring down at you with those ruthless eyes, "Maybe I should take you over to the doctor's. We both know Negan wants his favorite toy kept in good condition."

Your entire body vibrates with hatred for this creature. Every breath you take acts as an effort of restraint, a way to lull yourself into not ripping out what hair he has left.

You didn't just despise Simon because he's an asshole or because he was the person harassing your group leading up to that horrible night you were taken. Your aversion for him stems from experiences entirely your own.

A few days after the biting incident, you had tried getting physical with Negan one more time. You'd managed to worm one of your wrists out of your restraints, and instead of aiming for escape, you decided revenge held a higher priority. You waited for him to come check on you, keeping your arm tucked to your body as if it was still bound.

When he finally came in, you sat there and took the speech, took the condescension, and took the promises that you would conform. And then he leaned a bit closer. That's when you backhanded him as hard as he had you the few days prior.

After the hit landed, you lunged forward and tried to wrap the rope connected to you around his neck. You pulled as hard as you could, and for a moment, you thought you had won.

But wrangling you off was easier than you anticipated. They hadn't been allowing you much food or sleep, so the strike took most of your energy. It only took him a handful of seconds to snake his hand under the rope and then pry your arms away.

He stood up and slammed you into the wall with his hand around your throat. In that moment, he didn't look at you with the same fury he had before. This time around, frustration dominated his gaze.

"Was that fun for you?" he asked.

You didn't answer. Your chest puffed with exertion while your eyes stared daggers into him.

"What did I tell you last time? What did I fucking tell you?" he asked. Despite the look in his eye being less volatile, his tone of voice was dangerous as ever. "I told you I would knock that jaw of yours loose. That's what I said, and I meant it. I don't want you thinking I didn't. But I'm not gonna do that right now because I don't think it would work, and I'm not one to waste my own time."

Internally, pride swelled in your chest, thinking you had called his bluff. But then he kept speaking.

"I have a bad feeling that if I struck some sense into you that you'd just try to strike it into me right back, and I can't have that. That's just not gonna fly around here," he said, "So I'll tell you what: I have a better idea. You don't wanna play with daddy? Then you can spend a weekend with your Uncle Simon. See how much fun he can be."

Back then, you didn't know Simon as the right hand man. You didn't have his name and face connected yet. Now, you wished you could go back to that state of mind.

You were with him for three days while Negan did a tour of the outposts and subjugated communities. Only 72 hours. But an hour of him would have been enough to scare you for a lifetime.

When he first came into the room, you didn't get the feeling that him and Negan would handle you so differently. You could tell from the way he looked at you that, like his boss, he looked at you as something to toy with. A source of amusement. The difference, you soon found out, was how they played with their toys.

Unlike daddy, Simon didn't talk just to talk. He didn't warn you of future spankings or timeouts. He hit. And he kicked. And he shoved you down and tossed you around. He didn't offer the same condolences daddy did, there was no "this hurts me more than it hurts you." Nothing he did even bothered Simon. He watched you hurt, and he enjoyed it.

You didn't even get a reward once you'd settled down. Your attitude had disappeared almost instantly. Having the wind knocked out of you once was enough for you to become more amicable, but your change in demeanor didn't phase him. It wasn't his goal.

The only rules Negan left him with were the basic ones for the Sanctuary along with no killing you or causing permanent damage. But that didn't mean he couldn't threaten you with breaking them. He went on and on during the down periods where you cowered in the corner or huddled against the wall of your bedroom cell, telling you stories of how he went rogue before. Any horrible thing he could think of, he dangled in front of you as a potential fate.

When Negan finally came back, you eagerly awaited him. Despite your sleep deprived and bruised condition, your eyes stayed locked on the door like a puppy expecting their master. For the next week, you latched onto him. Didn't want to leave his side. He had made his point. You could hate him as much as you wanted but leave you alone with Simon for a little while, and you'd beg for him back.

That's how you feel right now, staring up into Simon's eyes while he holds your jaw. The pressure his fingers put on your cheeks serve as a reminder of the pain he can inflict while his other hand holding the bat twirls the weapon near your calf. As much as you had been internally preaching your hatred for everything to do with Negan minutes ago, all you want to do now is run into his arms.

You feel more tears wanting to slip down your cheeks, but you try your best to hold them in. The more you cry, the more I like it. That's what he'd told you more than once over those three days.

"Just leave me alone," you tell him. You try to sound as firm as possible, but even your own ears catch the way your voice quivers. "Negan wouldn't like you talking over him."

Your attempt at taking a stand falls flat. He doesn't back off any, rather, he leans in closer.

"Negan, huh? Are you even allowed to call him that?" he mocks and feigns a pout. 

"Just shut up!" you say. You mean it as a threat; though, it hits his ears like a plea. More hot panic rushes down your spine from the stress of having to remain quiet while also trying to be assertive.

His lips flatten into a line before he continues speaking. "Your head's getting too big for those shoulders, little girl. You better watch your attitude, or I might have to suggest you're due for some more correction," he mutters.

A loud scream rips the two of you from your conversation. He drops his hand from your face, and you both straighten up against the wall. Negan stands in the center of the room, pressing the blazing iron to the side of the man's face.

He wails until he passes out, and that's when his leader peels away the device of torture. Sticky skin goes with it before snapping back against his face like a rubber band. You grimace, your stomach twisting at the sight. You'd seen so much blood and guts over the years of living out on the road and fighting with other groups, but melted skin was a new one.

Negan turns to Dwight and gives him the iron back. You breathe an involuntary sigh of relief, subconsciously soothed by the thought of him returning to your side.

The reprieve ends suddenly though when a small, sharp pain slices along the meat of your calf. You whimper and lift your leg away on instinct. Looking for the source, you see the bat twirling from the motion of Simon's wrist. One of the barbs had caught your skin. Your eyes flit up to him.

"Watch out!" you say. The old you would have been seething. She would have pulled out her pocket knife and given him a little receipt for the cut. But now, you watch him with fearful eyes, trying to gauge whether or not you would get in trouble for calling him an asshole.

"Remember what I said," he tells you quietly as a trickle of red runs down to the lacy frills of your sock.

Before you can respond, a warm hand lands on the small of your back. Your head turns to find Negan smiling down at you.

"What's with the long face, sugar? Simon bothering you?" he asks, clearly not meaning it seriously even though to you it is exactly that.

You part your lips to answer, but Simon beats you to it.

"Bothering her? C'mon. I'm just checking up on her. She looked a little dizzy, so I offered to take her to the doctor's," he says, light as ever, "I'm just watching out for her, y'know? Sweet thing like her will get eaten alive here if she's not careful."

Negan raises his eyebrows, and for a second, you think he's about to take your side. But then he just chuckles and shakes his head. 

"She's doing just fine. That was her first time seeing one of those, so she's probably a little shaken up," he says, rubbing your arm.

"Hm... Sounds about right," Simon replies, "I know that's not how her little group did things."

"Yeah. So I'll get her back to the room. Think you can handle shit down here?" he says, gesturing around to the dispersing crowd.

"Always," Simon says with a mock salute. He then hands Lucille back.

Finally, you find some relief, some true sanctuary as Simon walks away. Your body physically relaxes. Negan feels it underneath his arm and spares you a glance as the two of you walk back up the stairs.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

You want to just take the easy route and say no, to play along with this sadistic charade and not cause any trouble. But you can't get the single syllable out. It feels impossible to even shake your head. Even though Simon's gone, the weight of everything that happened still remains along with the stinging in your leg.

Your throat feels tight, and your eyes feel like they're two seconds from overflowing. The lights suddenly seem too bright, and everyone here is too loud. You can't show him that though. You don't want more correction. You don't want someone to like it when you cry. But you can't ignore him either. That would be the worst thing to do.

All you manage in response is a shaky shrug. You let out a broken sigh with it and lean into his chest. The tension in your shoulders returns as you fight to keep the tears from leaking out against the worn leather.

At first, he doesn't say anything, and the two of you keep walking. Your steps remain in time with his as you traverse the walkway and around the corner. Then the two of you come to a stop when you're out of sight. He turns you by your shoulders, holding you in front of him so that you can't shy away.

"I got one more thing to attend to out by the fence. Think you can handle that?" he asks.

Your heart pulses to an uneven rhythm, trying to decide what to do without devolving into pure panic. You bite your lip as you mull your options over. Say yes and go with him. Then inevitably fail to contain yourself and get in trouble. Or, say no now and risk punishment for being defiant. You're not sure which one will end up worse.

"Can... can we just go back to the room?" you ask. Your voice comes out weak as if every word siphons a drop of energy from you.

He eyes you with uncertainty of his own; though, there's no fear in his look. His gaze is careful, an attempt to decipher if this is some kind of deception. You'd been pretty well-behaved as of late, but one bad day could take even the most obedient pet to a rabid dog, jaws primed to gnash.

But you didn't really have a reason to lie. The bedroom with him would provide the least likely chance at escape, and in the condition you were in now, you didn't seem to be planning an attack.

Slowly, he nods. "Sure, honey. I'll have Arat handle the other shit," he tells you before leading you in the direction of his bedroom.

The words he mumbles through his radio sound distant to you. You watch your legs switch between one and the other as you walk. On your right, you see the small red splotch staining the pristine cloth of your sock.

Before you know it, he's pushing open the bedroom door and bringing you inside. It then closes behind you, creating a barrier between you and everything else out there. It gets a little easier to breathe.

He guides you the few steps over to the edge of the bed and sits down, pulling you onto his lap. You feel his eyes scanning over you in an attempt to figure out the problem without asking. His hand rubs up and down your back over the crinkly fabric of your dress. His other palm focuses on your legs, coasting over your knees and the area of your thighs the skirt doesn't cover.

The code is harder for him to crack than usual. Normally when you got upset, it resulted from something he said. And he knows that because, usually, that's his intention. It was always either that or you'd just generally be feeling down, missing your home. But that doesn't seem to be the case right now. You seem more antsy than your normal bouts of sadness. He doesn't think it was from watching the spectacle downstairs. He knows you hate the saviors indiscriminately. Watching some random guy's face melt off wouldn't have you this upset. Finally, he relents.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He actually makes an effort not to sound like he'll make fun of whatever your answer may be.

"I just don't feel good," you choke out and bite your lip.

He feels you shudder on his lap, and he knows it's not the full truth. Pulling you a little closer on his thighs, he continues to look down at you.

"C'mon, baby. Tell daddy what hurts," he coaxes.

Your face tenses, but you know he won't drop this. "Just... just... I don't know. A lotta stuff," you say. You couldn't decide on a lie to commit to.

He sighs and bounces his leg with you on it a few times. "Did someone say something to you? Was someone bothering you?" he asks as his scope of potential causes narrow.

You're in the middle of trying to think of a cover story when his hand glides down to remove your shoes. He knocks one off. Then the other. The foamy white sneakers clatter to the ground next to his foot.

He goes to bring his hand back up, dragging it over the fine threading of your socks, but his eyes catch on the bloody splotches near the edge. Grabbing your ankle, he tugs your limb upward. It puts you at an awkward angle and nearly knocks you from your perch on his thigh. He stares the small wound down, assessing every detail of the tiny scrape.

"How'd you get this?" he asks. He looks over to you.

In reality, it may have been the most standard question in the world. But it hits your ears like an accusation and brings a fresh wave of tears that you can't control. Your lip quivers as your lids blink a few droplets over your water line.

"Simon did it," you weep.

You're scared he won't believe you, but after a few seconds, he drops your foot and pulls you close. His arms wrap around you tight and keep you flush against his chest. The warmth of the embrace encompasses you. You let the dam burst and cry into him, pouring all your sadness out against his body.

His hand sweeps up and down your back in comforting strokes. "Shh, shh, shh, sweetheart. Daddy's got you," he murmurs.

You feel him shrug off his jacket and push it aside, leaving the plain material of his t-shirt to soak up your anguish. He keeps you as close as possible. One of his hands cradles the back of your head to ensure you don't pull away.

"Does Simon bother you a lot?" he asks.

You nod. "Whenever I'm not with you," you choke out.

He hums in acknowledgement. "I'll talk to him. He's not supposed to hurt you when you're being such a good girl for daddy."

"I was trying really hard," you sob, your voice cracking, "I've been trying to be good. But he just hates me anyway. He's so mean to me."

Your arms snake around him as tight as a pair of snakes aiming to kill. You cling to him with everything you have, as if he's your one true savior from this living hell and not the cause of it.

In your head, you feel like you're annoying him. He's probably waiting for you to calm down, so he can nip this blossom of resentment in the bud. Good girls don't have tantrums or meltdowns, right? And all he cares about is that you act the part of a good girl.

But you only think all of that because you can't see the smile on his face right now.

He's grinning more than any of the times he got you to say something humiliating or cooperate with a punishment. The look he displays now reaches a new level of smugness, higher than the night he killed two of your people and traumatized the rest of them. His satisfaction runs deeper this time because right now, you're truly broken.

This isn't something you agreed to because the other option was worse. It's not something he had to coach you into or manipulate a situation into becoming. You did this all on your own. You came to him. Sure, he had to coax it out of you a little bit, but once he got his foot in the door, you let him right in. You're clinging to him for comfort, looking to him for a solution. He couldn't be more pleased. This is exactly what he wanted - to break you down. Now he just had to reel you back in the slightest bit, get you in that perfect middle ground between too independent and non-functioning.

"You have been doing really good for me, y'know? I'm proud of you, baby," he tells you in the most earnest tone he can manage, "Don't worry about Simon for right now, ok? Daddy's gonna set him straight. He won't bother you again."

You nod, but the reassurance doesn't stop the flow of tears from your eyes. Your fingers stay clenched around the fabric of his shirt.

"No more tears, honey, c'mon," he coos. He pries your limbs from around him and boosts you to your feet, standing you between his thighs. "I'll take care of it just like I take care of you. Let's just worry about what my little baby needs to feel better right now."

You take a few seconds to think about it, but the answer comes with relative ease. The most agitating thing about this situation right now is wrapped all around you, scratching at your sides and digging in under your arms.

"Can you take my dress off?" you sniffle.

His eyes fall from your face over your body. "What? You don't like this pretty little number?" he teases.

For once, you don't feel like you're two seconds away from punishment. You feel like it's a joke, and you don't have to awkwardly straddle the line between playing along with the humor and submitting to the literal interpretation.

"It's ok... it's just kinda scratchy," you say and wipe away your tears with the back of your hand.

"Spin around for me then. We'll get it off you. Can't have it irritatin' that soft skin while you're tryin' to relax."

You take the few steps to turn around. His fingers grasp the zipper and undo the baby pink prison you'd been trapped in for the day. Feeling the chafing fabric pulled away from you lets you take a real breath for the first time in hours. Already a small bit of relief. It only compounds when the garment hits the floor and pools at your feet.

He tugs you back by the waist and lays you across the bed, body on full display for him. Right now, you don't mind his gaze tracking your curves. He leans over you, his hands coasting from the sides of your breasts down to your hips.

"You're prettier like this anyways, princess," he praises.

"Thank you, daddy." It spills out as naturally as water from a faucet.

He rewards you with his lips on your stomach instead of words. Kissing the smooth, warm skin, his lips travel from just above your navel to the divot between your breasts. Your nipples rise to attention automatically.

His hands slide up to cup your mounds of flesh. He fondles and gropes them as his lips migrate up the curves to the hardening little peaks. They don't latch on just yet. He teases them with kisses instead, letting the anticipation of blissful suction build.

You take your lip between your teeth as you watch him. Chills break out across the rest of your body. You know you should be fighting. You know you should kick and scream and cry. You should try to take advantage of his closeness and get towards your revenge. But in your hellish life, are you not allowed one moment of pleasure? You haven't let those plans of escape and vengeance go, but you want this right now. You want to feel good, and he gives you that. 

This isn't Negan. This is daddy. And you don't wanna hurt daddy.

His tongue peeks out from between his lips to trace wet circles around your nipple. The sensation draws a whine from you. Your body squirms beneath him with an eagerness to feel more.

"I think I know how to make you feel better. Take your mind off all that stuff from before," he whispers.

He takes one of your nipples between his lips, flicking the bud with the tip of his tongue and scraping his teeth against the sensitive area. You reward the choice with a mewl and squirm your legs. He chuckles and then switches to the other one.

"That feel good?" he asks.

You nod, your head tilting back and your eyes fluttering.

Grinning, he continues his work on your chest. You whine and squirm for him, giving him all the reactions he craves. Soon, his hand ghosts up your inner thigh. His fingertips drag over the flesh and land on your clothed center. Through the thin pink cloth, he rubs at your clit. That garners a breathy moan and a full body shudder.

"Goddamn, you are so cute," he chuckles, "Just a few little touches and you squirm around like a virgin for me."

Heat floods your cheeks, but you don't bother disputing the claim. It was the truth. You weren't sure what it was about him that got you so amped up and needy.

The pad of his middle finger swirls around the little nub in your panties. He can already feel the fabric getting sticky from the wetness between your thighs.

"Poor baby. You're so easy to play with," he says.

His mouth leaves your breasts now and begins to retrace its path down your stomach. It glides over your skin with open-mouthed kisses all the way down to the hem of your underwear. His fingers fall away from your center to your dismay.

Your disappointment is short lived though. You feel him position your thighs on his shoulders. When you look down, his eyes are staring right back up at you, gleaming like that of a panther ready to pounce.

"You want daddy's mouth on you? Will that help you feel better?" he rasps.

You nod quickly. "Please, daddy," you whimper.

"So polite. You didn't even need me to remind you of your manners," he smirks.

You don't even care about that remark. It washes right over you. All your mind is concerned with right now is getting more of his touch.

He brings his index finger back between your legs. He hooks it beneath the soaked seat of your panties, pulling it to the side and revealing your slick folds to him. The thumb on his opposite hand comes up to rub over the length of your slit up to your clit. Back and forth, nice and slow, just to tease you.

Your hips writhe the slightest bit, and he nips the skin of your inner thigh.

"Tsk. You know good girls are patient. They don't wriggle around. I've taught you better than that," he chides.

"Sorry," you say, backing down quickly.

"It's alright. I know you're having a rough day, so I'll let it slide this time," he says. He then leans in to lay some kisses on your clit.

Your eyes roll back and your toes curl. He never let things slide. This must have been a miracle. The same man who always toted that the rules weren't optional, letting you bypass one? Maybe you were his favorite. That's what you took it as anyways.

He makes out with your cunt like it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen. His lips engulf it, spreading his affection from your little bundle of nerves all the way down, nearly reaching your puckered entrance below. You whine and clutch at the bedsheets. You were still too scared to grab his hair. You weren't sure if he'd like it and groan or glare at you in a way that said you'd pay for it later.

It doesn't matter to you right now though. What you hold isn't important when you feel this good. It feels like a firework show is erupting in your belly, bright bursts of all different colors. Your heels dig into his back, subconsciously keeping him buried between your thighs.

He's tempted to tear your panties off and fling them aside. He would if not for the limited number in his possession. If this was normal life, he'd rip a pair to shreds on a weekly basis. These things were so cute when he put them on, but when he wanted at you, he despised them. If this was normal life, he'd just buy you new ones whenever a tattered one had to be tossed. But then again, if this was normal life, he wouldn't have you at all, so it isn't really worth thinking about.

Refocusing his mind on your pleasure, he dives further into your cunt. His nose bumps your clit as his tongue fucks into you. He pushes it in a few times before pulling back and just lapping at your pussy in broad strokes, getting every drop of you he can. Two of his fingers prod at your entrance before slipping in. They fuck deeper than his tongue, but don't stretch you out like his cock. A happy medium to walk the steps of preparation.

He maneuvers his digits with expert precision, scissoring and curling them at the perfect intervals. You can't help the way your hips buck in response. He doesn't get on you about it though. He just wraps your arms around his hips and holds you in place.

Your thighs squeeze around his head too. Luckily, that wasn't against the rules. He loved feeling the heat of your plush legs wrapped around his skull, keeping him close.

He pumps his fingers faster, curling them right against that spot that got you to squeal and cry out his name.

"Cum for me, babydoll. All over my face. I wanna feel it," he rasps.

It's a fortunate coincidence he gives you that command because you were about two swipes of his tongue away from doing it on your own. You melt against the bed, eyes fluttering and body jerking and quivering as rushes of pleasure sweep through you.

Your fingers grip the blankets so tight they threaten to tear into them, but then they loosen completely and go lax next to your hips. He licks your cunt through the entire thing, not letting you come down until the euphoria has thoroughly washed through you.

While you're lying there, dazed and blissed out, he untangles himself from your legs and stands at the edge of the bed. He wipes your nectar from his facial hair before pulling his shirt over his head and unzipping his pants.

"I think daddy deserves a little reward for making you feel so good, pretty girl. What do you say?" he asks.

Of course, you nod. There was no way you would reject him while still so close to the high of your last release. He grins at your hazy movement and shoves down his pants, jerking his cock a few times and crawling on the bed to hover over you.

"You're such a good girl for me. Better than I ever thought you'd be," he says while looking down at your face.

"Wanna be good for you, daddy," you say softly, blinking at him with your misty doe eyes.

His grin spreads even wider. In your sane mind, you probably would have thought it looked like some creature out of hell. But right now, the look just makes you giggle and squirm.

Down below, he lines up at your entrance. He slides his tip through your arousal a few times, getting it nice and wet before he sinks in. A smile of your own rises on your face, and he groans at the deep satisfaction of having your cunt embrace him so readily.

"Perfect little pussy, fuck," he grunts, "Think it's the best I've ever had."

You preen at that compliment. He balances his forearms on each side of your head as he begins to thrust. Your legs rise up and lazily wrap around his waist, which he loves. He can't get enough of the fact that you want him, that you're pushing him deeper and not letting him pull out too much.

His head falls beside yours, letting you hear every pant and grunt that falls from his lips. Your walls squeeze around him every so often. The noises make your tummy flutter for him. It drives you wild to know you brought him to such a state of lust.

"Christ, you're so fucking tight," he mumbles.

You giggle again and drape your arms around his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. You just get lost in the feeling of him inside you, his cock battering all your sweet spots just right. He leans in and kisses at your neck. His hips pump deeper, ramming his shaft further into the warm depth of you.

In this moment, everything feels so good and pure. You can't even imagine any of the pain he inflicted on you before. It all feels like a distant dream. Memories that belonged to someone else, not you. At this second, it feels as though this bliss will last forever. Just you and him tangled in the throes of passion without a concern for anything else happening beyond the privacy of his room.

When you open your eyes, they're a little watery from all the stimulation and how good it feels mixed with your saccharine thoughts. You arch off the bed a few inches, pushing your pert breasts against the warmth of his chest. He pushes you back down with ease, keeping you angled exactly where he wants you.

Pulling back a little to look at your face, he smiles when he sees the water gathering in your eyes.

"Oh, those are the tears I like to see," he croons.

You moan, a little shiver coursing through you. It only encourages him to pound his hips harder against you, in and out, in and out, until you're both approaching the edge.

"You gonna cum again for me, sweetheart? Show daddy how good he's making you feel?" he murmurs.

"Yeah, mhm, ah-" you whimper, "I wanna cum daddy, wanna cum for you."

"I know you do," he chuckles, "I can feel it."

Your cunt contracts and releases around him with increased frequency now. He knows you're moments away from reaching the peak. Swiveling his hips, he tries to strike that chord and bring you crashing down.

You whimper, the pitch getting higher as the glass gets closer to shattering. Finally, with one good jerk of his pelvis, you tense up and cry out. A couple tears trickle from your eyes. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

Your body trembles and rolls with the feeling. He fucks you through it, savoring every delicious squeeze of your cunt around him. A few breathless groans rumble out of him. He gets every last second in your hole he can before he has to pull out.

He snaps his hips back, replacing the tightness of your pussy with his hand. It's not the same, but it will do. He gives it a few quick strokes before he explodes and spills on your belly. You lift your head and watch as the ropes of hot, sticky cum land on your skin.

His hips jerk with each surge of release firing from him. When he finishes, his head hangs, and he takes a moment to catch his breath. He scoots off of you and cools down beside your body on the bed. It's quiet for a few moments; though, he's never one to be vulnerable, so he doesn't let the silence linger for too long.

"You feeling better?" he asks and rotates his head to look at you.

You nod, visibly more relaxed than before.

"Thank you, daddy," you say, sweet as can be, before leaning in and pecking his lips.

He stares at you for a few moments in fond satisfaction. Then he gets up, and pulls you to your feet with him.

"C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up," he says.

You follow obediently to the bathroom where he wipes you off with a damp rag and makes sure you're all set to get some rest after. Both of you make your way to the dresser next. He pulls another set of those panties out and slips you into them. They don't feel so horrible this time around, but in the back of your mind, you're sure that won't be the case tomorrow morning. A soft, thin shirt covers your upper body next. It's the same baby pink color as the dress, but you don't mind since it's much more comfortable.

On your own, you tuck yourself to his side for the short walk back to the bed. He climbs in first and then tugs you into your spot next to him.

"I want you to try and get some rest," he tells you, stroking down the side of your face, "When you wake up, I'll get you something to eat, but for now, I want you to take a nap, ok?"

You aren't particularly tired, but while living here, sleep has become your greatest method of escape. You never reject a chance at it. The only thing is, right now, you don't really want to escape. You don't feel a horrible gnawing sensation from being so close to him.

However, you agree anyways because daddy knows best for you, and you don't want to make him upset.

You lie your head on his chest and snuggle up to him. He holds you close, rewarding the compliance by rubbing your back.

"Sweet dreams, babydoll," he murmurs.

You shut your eyes, allowing your mind to recede into visions of the life and people you had before this. The life you still hoped one day you would get back, even as it became more and more like a fantasy rather than a realistic future.

[reshinless]

──── day 2: dnd on the hotel door.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. wherein your friends give him.. more than just suggestive photos at your wedding. (you had a private boudoir photoshoot prior to it!)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich, neuvillette, zhongli, tartaglia, capitano x gn!afab!reader. !!NSFW/SUGGESTIVE CONTENT!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. saw a cute tt of this exact topic (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) will do diff characters next week!

kinich who'd already been so nervous for whatever was to come on this day; he was always more than willing. he knew the first laugh you both shared. the first kiss you both partook in, not everyone he's kissed had such a long-lasting impact on him, that's if he ever kissed anyone at all (that wasn't you.)

it wasn't all that special he said, but everything you've ever wanted in a wedding was there. he remembered what flowers you'd always pluck from the grounds you traveled on. or the colors that always had your eyebrow twitching just hearing the first letter of the pigment's name.

the venue wasn't necessarily small either, borrowing whatever he could in his homeland to make it perfect, even going as far as to asking others for help on what to embellish the locale in.

for as long as you've known him- kinich wasn't much of a romantic. letting you take the lead instead, switching up occasionally by spooning you alternatively. but you remembered he'd always laid his head atop your chest, from the nightmares of his own past, and regrets; he found peace in listening to your heartbeat, and feeling your torso heave slowly.

he wanted to make you feel special today & tonight. so he wants to do it right at least. he tried to fluster you in a way that you'd be surprised, aware he wasn't very amorous.

or at least that's what was in his point of view because you had a whole other plan ready for him. but you didn't know about the surprises he'd throw either.

the whole theme of the wedding was based on his tribe, encased with traces of your own home/favorite colors.

but something that you'd see as a surprise this afternoon was kinich's suit. it wasn't the usual black suit and tie. no- he wore.. your initial around his neck, and his tie was the color of your eyes.

you felt your eyes water a little, walking down the aisle, your arm entangled with the guardian who's been with you since day one. (or whoever you'd like!)

after the classic bouquet toss, and squealings later. you told your newly-wed husband your bridesmaids had a surprise for him. he didn't think much of it; meeting them before, they seemed nice enough. (one of them is mualani btw :3)

mualani who stands beside kinich briefly for the picture, she hands him a polaroid photo from the photographer's kamera. "what is-" he gets cut off, his face turning to playfully sour until it slowly changes to his usual stoic behavior (he doesn't know his face is turning redder by the second)

"you.. hmm." he awkwardly nodded after another picture was taken of his reaction, cheeks aflame; the picture was still so clear in his mind. now it couldn't get out!

the mental image of your body in frilly lace/in nothing but a blanket over you, a simple layer of clothing that stopped him from seeing your bare body- fuck he could feel himself get hard already.

and the more time that passed, progressing with each photo being taken, the worse his boner got. shit he can't believe you're his. and he's damn well lucky to have you.

even as he stood idly, talking to some of the guests, some more of the bridesmaids came up to him, handing him more scenes for him to visualize in his head.

"ahh.. may i excuse myself from this conversation?" he politely bows and walks away to where you were. the eventide's stellar in the sky definitely wasn't shining each time he saw you. oh there it is- that laugh he always loved and fell in love with again each time he heard it.

"pretty.. ahh.. there's something i.. need help with."

kinich who's already in your newly bought home, hurriedly stripping you of your clothes, ready to devour you and eat your cunt out to his content.

kinich who could only palm his erection, as his mouth latched onto your wetness was already waiting for him. your taste, how it smelled, how your slit was already so wet for him- you knew what you were doing. and it worked really damn well.

neuvillette who was already nervous, throughout the proposal, even you relationship before being fiancees, I mean, it was you, why wouldn't he be worried? he was ready to jump off a cliff if anything went wrong if he'd tell the truth, but he'd never say that.

neuvillette who sighed with relief, the days of worrying that something bad might happen to you on your special day with him. taking pictures with the bridesmaids for the wedding's little picture book for you to look back on soon, and maybe even for your kids to look at and call you both corny for.

neuvillette who suddenly received 3 photo frames from 3 of your bridesmaids, confused as he took a look at it, he could only feel the rush of warmth crawling up from his neck to his ears. his horns grew the more he looked into the photos.

"w- where did you get this?" he observed the room shyly, looking for any signs of you, why? to help him out with 'something' of course. no one could take care of it better than you did.

they simply shrugged and walked away, whispering and chuckling to each other. awkwardly walking to find you, pulling you to the side, inside one of the venue's main buildings, bringing you into one of the bedrooms.

"you didn't need to tease me like this." you were pinned to the bed once the wedding ended. the painful boner you had caused hadn't gone away, even now, throbbing, missing where it's supposed to be (inside you)

ripping your wedding dress off your body (not really, just making sure you get out of it without ruining it), he couldn't wait to fill you with his seed. he wanted to see personally if you could take all of him in. he could only caress the very rim of your hole, teasing you with his fingers before he would finally split you apart with his cock.

from the amount of time, he's been alive, his stamina would be unmatched, so it'd be entirely up to you for how long you wanna do this :)

it felt as if he was such a meanie, but his words were different- praising you, and gently holding your wrists in place. it didn't quite match the pace of his cock drilling itself inside you though, it felt deep, and it looked as if the night has barely even started. oh well.

zhongli had never thought of the idea of marriage until he overheard you speaking about it with a few of your friends. it wasn't you necessarily hoping he'd propose, but you were the only one within the group of four to have not been married yet!

he knows you'd never leave him for another, but adding a ring to your pretty little hand definitely would tell all the other men and women alike who try to hit on you to say everything for him.

the wedding was more than just a delight, it was planned to the very smallest of details. it was beautiful, even on a budget of somewhat a lot but not too much; it made sure to shine brighter than most of the stars that night.

before he could sweep you into his arms, and take you upstairs into the home you both chose out before the wedding; some of your bridesmaids, along with your maid of honor had handed him a book.

they said nothing but laughed and walked away to the food section, looking through the book and oh wow.

he hadn't learned what a boudoir was but he definitely enjoyed what he was seeing now. flipping through the pages, staying to the side so no one else could see what was happening. he'll have to ask you about that lingerie set later, white definitely complimented you..

"s'dirty.. you tease me like this, even on our special day? mmmf.." you sat down on his cock, as he showed you off in the mirror. the same lingerie set you wore in the photo book was already ripped off your body, and on the floor. geo marks that scattered, covering most of his arms caressed your thighs that trembled.

his strong arm ran over your body, carefully exploring every inch of you that he could. the thought of being legally, and weddedingly(?) yours. you have his last name now.

he could only imagine how much more pleasure he'd want to give you throughout tonight. he could only praise you for taking him so well, watching you try and use his cock for your own, but he's too big :(.

tartaglia who introduced you with pride to his family after proposing. but watching you treat his little sister and brother so well.. oh he had to get you pregnant.

but for now, he'd put those thoughts to the side, and enjoy his and your special day, no lust, just love.

you had other plans though. and he wasn't gonna complain.

a couple of your bridesmaids took pictures with him for the futurity of the book of photos for his siblings to look through as well. but after each photo, they all handed him Polaroids.

"what's this?" he looked at them confusedly, but all they did was "just look at it!" "you won't regret it!" and boy he sure did not!!! ssshit just covered in a blanket, no nothing underneath? you wanna get fucked tonight?

he pushed you against the wall of the master bedroom. "mmm.. w'na try to get me hard like that again in public, and I'm gonna do a looott worse than tonight, baby."

the ring on your finger he saw as your hand held onto the wall while he stripped you- he couldn't help but let out a loud as hellll groan. even when he held you down to the bed, he made sure to kiss the jewelry on your finger that meant you're his for life.

while you ride him, his eyes are always on the necklace that has his initials on it, watching it bounce up and down on your chest. for the longest time; he was foreign to the idea of even a relationship, let alone getting to marry someone. but he was gonna make sure you'll feel what he couldn't express throughout time.

when he's soo obsessed with nutting inside you, he holds your hips down onto his, making sure not a drop will be wasted. he could already imagine what your kids with him would look like.

capitano who preferred a more quiet wedding. one between simple friends, and I guess co-workers (he was against it but you invited them anyway.)

so in this sense, columbina, arlecchino, and signora had agreed to accompany you as your bridesmaids. tsaritsa also agreed to bless your wedding (because she agrees that you are strong, mentally, and physically, and give capitano something to look forward to, unlike before.)

i guess the others attended (most attended just to say congrats and leave, pierro was best man)

accompanying you down to a glass garden house nearby the venue you chose out, but before he could proceed, your three bridesmaids stopped him. cheeky smiles on signora, and columbina's lips- arlecchino handed him a book.

"they want you to have this." the fourth harbinger states, leaving with the two ladies simply giggling and walking off, opposite sides of arlecchino.

he questioningly opened the book while about to walk back to you but oh. wow.

as he catches up to you, he's still a bit flustered, but quickly composed himself once more. "are.. you trying to tease me, kitten?"

and as much as he hasn't had any experience in a long while, oh boy is he ready to find out if he still got it or not

but capitano never knew he'd be so turned on to think about what real married life had to offer.. like kids. he knew he couldn't necessarily have them since he's a harbinger, but a man can dream, right?

anyways he's already pulling your hair from behind, while he has you doggy style on the mattress. I don't know cause I get the feeling he would.

a tight hold onto the strands of your hair. "fffuck.. this is what you get for looking so fuckin' hot.." he groans.

even so when he isn't fucking your pussy with sloppy thrusts from behind- he's fingering you with his long fingers that make you go wild.

he does take note that his fingers are pretty long, so he's pretty careful when it comes down to that.

you sitting on his lap while he admires you in the mirror, watching how you reacted to simply him adding another digit inside your hole, as another hand held onto your left hand, caressing the ring that binded you to him. he couldn't be happier!

[f1fantasys]

uh this is so random idk if you would write this but i have an idea so you are Lando’s roommate. one day you came home early and you heard a girl moaning from his room and immediately feel jealous but you tried to brush it off. then as the voice is getting more intense eventually you lean beside his door and can’t help to start touching yourself. you didn’t realized that you moaned too loud that makes Lando opened the door. he is shocked ofc but then start teasing you until you pushed him away because you respect his girlfriend. and it turns out… he just watching videos so no girlfriend or anything. later he decided to help you and even makes you squirt then ended up fucking you against the wall

Hi anon, i love this! Hope you enjoy.

Caught

Warnings - heavy smut, porn, kissing, p in v sex, oral f! receiving, fingering, swearing, squirting.

You moved to Monaco a few weeks ago, being a Sky presenter, meaning you always had things to film and create with drivers and teams, so naturally, it made sense to live closer to everyones' base.

You had an amazing relationship with all the drivers, and were close to a few of them as well. Of course there had to be one, who'd caught your eyes on the first day of work 3 years ago.

Lando.

You wouldn't particularly say you were as close with him as you were with Charles and Carlos, but whenever you were together there was an undeniable sexual tension. Though you both would always brush it off and act like nothing was wrong.

Things were pretty normal between the pair of you until you'd arrived in Monaco, with your landlord telling you the apartment you were supposed to rent wasn't available anymore.

Long story short, Lando offered you a place to stay for as long as you needed, and you don't know how, or why, but you accepted.

So here you were two weeks later, coming home at an ungodly hour because your meeting at work ran over.

Lando's probably sleeping, you thought to yourself as it was already 12.35am when you checked the time, choosing not to make something to eat in fear of disturbing him at this time of the night.

As you walked quietly to your room, which was next to his, you heard something which froze your body still.

At first you thought your ears were deceiving you. It surely couldn't have been.

But as you willed your body to walk closer to Lando's room, you were done for.

It was moaning. Loud, sexy, goosebumps-raising moaning. There was a girl, and a guy, whom could have only been Lando.

To be honest, you had thought he'd bring random girls home much sooner than today. But still, the thought of him literally fucking a girl on the other side of the wall had your body quivering. In shock and need.

You knew you should retreat to your room, put your headphones on, and block out all of the noise. But once again, your body deceived you, wetness already pooling at your core.

You could hear them both panting through harsh breaths, moaning as if their life depended on it, and swearing as though they didn't care if the neighbors heard them, let alone you.

Somewhere at the back of your heart, it hurt, to think it was Lando with another girl, not you, but in the moment, all you could think about was how his naked body would slide against yours. You imagined his girth to be thick and long, just big enough to fit perfectly, having your walls clench around him as he moved in and out of you. You thought about how it would feel to have his lips on yours, roughly kissing you while slipping his tongue into your mouth, and about how he would pinch your nipples between his fingers before sucking on him, having you a moaning mess underneath him.

Without really realizing what you were doing, you found your hand slide into your joggers and slip past your panties, running your fingers through your folds as you collected you wet and sticky juices.

The noises coming from Lando's room were obscene to say the least. Man must know what he's doing, you thought, as you imagined it was his fingers that were dancing on your folds.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your own moans as you pushed two fingers through your core, shutting your eyes, mind trained on listening to your surroundings.

You could hear from the girls' whimpers that she was close, saying incoherent words through gritted teeth, and when she finally hit her high, Lando must have emptied himself in her by the sounds he was making, moaning into the oblivion.

Lando's moan alone had sent you spiraling, gushing cum all over your fingers as you let out your own soft whimpers and moans, not realizing that you were actually louder than you thought.

And just as your mind caught up with just how loud you were, Lando's room door suddenly flew open, the both of you staring at each other in shock.

He was stood there wearing nothing but his boxers, hair disheveled and cheek flushed.

You quickly removed your hand form your joggers, holding both your arms behind your back as if you were hiding something, as you looked at him not knowing how to get yourself out of this situation. You wanted the ground to swallow you up.

You didn't miss how Lando's eyes darkened when you did that, and with the way your body was still riding down from the high, you held in soft quivers, opening your mouth a few times to say something though nothing came out.

''I-I, um, I-'' you started but Lando cut you off.

''What are you doing?'' he asked, not sounding one but annoyed or confrontational, but rather teasingly.

You gulped, 'nothing'' you lied, knowing your face would give you away with how hot your cheeks felt.

He smirked, let out a small chuckle. ''Enjoyed that, didn't you?'' he teased again.

''I-, fuck, I didn't mean to eavesdrop'' you mumbled shyly.

He didn't say anything back, just nodded his head with a full on boyish grin.

''I'm gonna go, let you get back to your girl'' you softly said, turning to the direction of your room.

''My-, what? My what?'' Lando asked, clear confusion on his face.

You raised your brow. ''I'll let you get back to your girl'' you said, pointing in the direction of his room, quickly hiding your hand again because your fingers were still glistening with your cum.

Finally it clicked in him. Did you really think he had a girl in there? he thought to himself. And fuck, seeing your wet fingers had him growing hard.

He chuckled again, smirking, before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his room, shutting the door behind you and placing his hands on both sides of your face, staring into your soul.

You both stayed silent, searching each others face until soft moans filled your ears again. Your eyes grew with shock when you looked past Lando and saw his laptop on the bed, facing you, with two people fucking each other taking up the screen.

Suddenly it dawned on you. He was watching porn, not fucking anyone.

You took a deep breath again when you looked back at Lando. His gaze stern and determined. And then he did the unimaginable. He took you hand in his and brought your fingers up to his mouth, taking them in and sucking harshly on them, swallowing all your juices.

All you could do was watch with your mouth agape, pussy clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him down there.

''It wasn't me babygirl. But it can be if you want it to'' he whispered.

Your breath hitched as his hands landed on your waist and started roaming your body. Instinctively, you wrapped your hands around his neck, and in no time he leaned down to crash his lips to yours.

It was a feverish kiss. Hard and deep but so natural as if you'd kissed a thousand times before. Your mind went back to a few minutes ago to when you were standing outside his closed door, imagining what his lips felt like, and now you could confirm it was a hundred times better, a hundred times sexier, as he slid his tongue into your mouth and memorized every inch of it.

Your hands ran through his hair multiple times before lowering down to roam his back and taunt core muscles, instantly feeling your self aroused again at how hard his muscles were to the touch. It was something you found extremely sexy.

As Lando's own hands continued to dance around your body, he let one slip through your joggers, landing instantly on your core which had you jumping in his hold.

''Gonna take care of you baby'' he said before leaving wet kisses along your neck as his calloused fingers twirled their way through your slick folds.

You moaned out as he began to nip and bite at your neck, no coherent words forming in your mind. All you knew was how good he felt.

''So wet for me, yeah?'' he asked.

''Uh huh'' you replied, shutting your eyes as he let a finger push through you entrance.

You held your breath as he pumped it in and out with ease because of how wet you were.

''Fucking hell, you're so tight'' he said through gritted teeth, using his other hand to get past your tshirt and massage your boobs.

''Been a while'' you said, though immediately regretted it because he did not need to know that.

Suddenly he pulled back and looked at you. ''No'' he states.

''Yes'' you say back.

''How long?''

Does it matter? you thought to yourself.

''I don't know, like 3 month'' you said, not knowing how he would respond.

''Fuck'' he said, before sending you a wink.

''Gonna destroy you'' he said, mumbling it more to himself.

He quickly pulled your tshirt off of you before ripping your bra off, licking his lips at the sight of your perky boobs, nipples already stiff from the cool air.

He took way too long staring at them, and only when you whined did he snap out of his trance and sink down on on his knees, pulling your joggers down at the same time.

You mentally thanked yourself for shaving this morning as you looked down to see Lando licking his lips, before leaning down and licking a strip up your cunt.

You instinctively tried to close you legs around his head through he held them open with his strong hands, and you could do nothing but let your own hands latch onto his precious hair and pull it at.

He was devouring your pussy. Licking, sucking, soothing, nipping, doing everything possible to make you feel every emotion.

''Fuck Lando'' you hissed as he quickly found your clit, biting at it harshly before pulling back and blowing some cool air on it.

He returned his fingers and slid two in, hitching your breath in the process as he let his mouth back on as well, showing you no mercy with a relentless pace.

All you could do was let out a series of moans and bated breaths as you held onto him for dear life, feeling the warmth build up in your stomach.

''Gonna cum Lan'' you said.

He pulled back for a second, ''let me taste you again'' he said, before returning to his activities.

In no time your body was shuddering above hi, your orgasm letting you reach the best high as you gushed your fluids all over his face and fingers.

Lando groaned to himself when he go the first taste of you. Warm and milky with a salty aftertaste that had him grow extremely hard with the mix of hearing and feeling you.

He finally pulled back for a few seconds, letting your body calm down.

He looked at you with soft eyes. ''So fucking delicious baby'' he murmured.

Before you could even respond he was spreading your legs apart again, as far as he could as he ran his tongue through your fold again. Then he used to fingers to pry your pussy open, leaning forward and thrusting his tongue in and out of your core.

Once again you pulled at his hair, body like jelly though he was strong enough to hold you in position as his tongue did wonders to you.

''Hmm, not gonna last long, fuck, Lando please'' you begged.

Suddenly his tongue was being replaced with his fingers again, three this time, which stretched you out, making you gasp for air.

You could feel your next orgasm building up, and just when Lando curled his fingers to hit your g-spot, your body was in a state of bliss. You didn't even know that your cunt was squirting out juices, drenching Lando's face as he smiled wickedly at the mess he's made of you.

''I-fuck Lando!'' you all but screamed, watching as he started licking at every place you gushed over.

You tried to get out of his hold so you could bolt to you room, so embarrassed that you made such a mess on him. ''Lando, let me -I''m so sorry, fuck'' you mumbled.

But he stopped you in your tracks.

''Don't. That was so fucking amazing, fuck I''m so hard'' he said, quickly standing up again and roughly pulling you into a heated kiss, while still holding your body up. You were sure you'd be on the floor by now if he wasn't.

As his face was pressed your yours you could feel the slickness and stickiness rubbing off on to you as he continued to roughly make out with you, sucking on your tongue, probably drawing blood with how intense it was.

When Lando' hands reached down and massaged your ass, giving you a few gentle slaps, you snaked your own hand down and slipped through his joggers, taking his achingly thick girth and pumping him a few times.

When you felt how big he was, you were internally screaming. How the hell is he gonna fit, you thought.

He must have sensed your hesitation because without realizing, your movements with your hands and mouth were faltering.

''Gonna be ok baby, we'll make it work'' he said, pulling back and giving you reassuring eyes.

You just nodded your head and pulled him flush against you again, working on removing his boxers completely.

Once that was done, Lando took himself in his hands and raan his angry dick through your folds multiple times before groaning and pulling back.

''Shit'' he said.

You gave him a confused look, suddenly feeling exposed because why else would he pull away if this was something he didn't want?

''Don't have a fucking condom'' he sighed.

You let out a breath and chuckled. ''Top right drawer of my dresser'' you said confidently.

Lando was quick to shoot out of his room and not a minute later he was walking back in, pumping himself as he ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth before sliding it on himself. It was tight, anyone would be able to see that with how bigger than average he was. But for now, it would do the job, hopefully.

You watched on in anticipation, really took you time to gawk him up and down and you couldn't help but feel the blood rushing down to your core. He was so fucking hot, and right now you wanted him to ruin you. Use you as he pleased, because god you were putty in his hands right now.

Once he was done putting the condom on, he looked at you and gave you a cheeky smile, as if he was proud of his efforts.

That lasted all but a few seconds because the smile was quickly replaced by a dark lust in his eyes.

As eager as you were to finally have him in ways you'd only dreamed about until now, there was still a part of you that was nervous as hell because, one, he was thick, very thick, and two, this would change everything, and you only hoped it would be for the better.

Lando cupped your face again and gave your forehead a quick peck, as if he could see the wheels turning in your mind.

''Baby'' he whispered, as he lined his dick up at your entrance.

You nodded, and he let himself slide in, all the way in with a single thrust.

You held your breath and shut your eyes, nails digging into his biceps as Lando left little pecks all over your shoulders.

The stretch was blood sore, but as he pulled out and thrust back in again, the pleasure started to take over the pain.

He was going slow, allowing your body to get used to the intrusion as he hiked one of your legs up to his hip and held it in place.

He continued at a slow pace for a few more thrusts before you told him it was okay to go faster.

Now, Lando was relentless, fucking into you continuously as all you did was bite you lower lip as hard as you good, whimpers and broken breaths leaving your mouth.

Lando himself was letting out moans, praising you through gritted teeth.

''Fuck y/n, so fucking tight but taking me so well. Shit. Never felt this good before. Fuck me you're incredible''

You won't lie. Hearing his praise you like that was turning you on even more, though it seemed impossible at this point. But just listening to his hoarse voice had your body trembling in his arms.

''Lando, gonna cum. Fuck'' you breathed out, moans getting louder by the second as he was burying himself deep inside of you.

''Do it'' he mumbled as he caught your left nipple between his teeth and bit down harshly at it.

''Fuck too much'' you squealed. You could feel him smile against you as he soothed his tongue over and blew on it to relieve it.

Lando snaked his hand down to your clit, he had barely touched it and you felt your orgasm over come you, your body shaking violently in his arms as you gushed warm sticky juice all over his cock, having him groaning at ''how fucking sexy'' you are.

He gave you no time to come down from you high, immediately pulling out and turning your body around so your back was to him.

You just about fumbled as you quickly reached your hand down and pulled the condom off, desperate to feel him. His eyes grew wide but all you did was send him a wink as you heard him mutter a few swear words to himself.

You grabbed his dick again and positioned it against you again, before Lando rammed himself into you, the new position having him go even deeper than he was before, making it feel a thousand times better without the condom.

''Fuck me, Lando, fuck'' you moaned, probably the most pornographic noises you'd ever made before.

''I am fucking you baby. And you're taking me so well. Never felt so fucking good before'' he said, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

The pace was raw, unfiltered, as if you were both starved of each other. Lando's hands were surely leaving purple marks on your hips how hard he was pressing down on you, and his cock was surely bruising your insides as he relentlessly thrust in and out of you until you were a moaning mess again, body shuddering in the wake of another orgasm ripping through you.

''Fuck, i'm gonna cum. Where?'' he impatiently asked.

''In me, fuck, please'' you begged.

Within seconds Lando emptied his milky load into you, ropes of it already leaking out and down your thigh as he slowly decreased his pace to ride you both through, both your bodies shaking and overstimulated, high of adrenaline.

Lando leaned forward onto you, squeezing you between his body and the door as your mind tried to catch up to what just happened.

His head was in your neck, and you could feel his curls sticky with sweat as his cool breath left goosebumps on your skin due to the chill of your own sweat.

Neither of you said anything for a while, just basking in each others bodies as you tried to catch your breath.

You could feel Lando softening inside of you as he started leaving wet kisses along your shoulders and back.

His hand found yours, and you both hissed as he slowly pulled out, turning your body back to face him.

He gave you a sheepish smile, cheeks flushed as you bit down on your bottom lip, not knowing what was gonna come next.

Lando tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he leaned forward to kiss you gently.

''You're so fucking amazing y/n, and I've waited way too fucking long to do this''

''We...waited too long to that'' you said, emphasizing on the ''we''

Suddenly you saw Lando getting to his knees again, and as much as you couldn't wait fro more from him, you were fucking sore.

''Lan, too much'' you whispered, latching onto his hair.

''I know'' he said softly as he let his tongue run through your folds, collecting the mixture of cum before he got back up and pryed your mouth open.

You held your breath as he let the cum drip from his mouth down to yours before giving you a feverish, toe curling kiss, the both of you moaning at the taste of each other.

A few minutes later, and Lando, being the gentleman he is, cleaned you up and pulled you into his bed, your body curling at his side.

''So...goes without saying, but be my girlfriend? I mean, you're already living with me..and I've already made you squirt'' he smirked

You felt your cheeks flush, ''Ug Lando!'' you couldn't help but try to hide your face until he pulled your body to lay on top of his.

''And it was the hottest thing I've ever seen'' he said, smiling genuinely.

''Yes'' you said softly.

''Yeah?'' he asked, eyes growing wide and full of excitement.

''Yeah'' you said, leaning down to kiss him for the hundredth time today, feeling his hands on your ass giving you a few playful smacks.

Hope y’all enjoyed this! Please do leave comments and remember requests are always open xx

[libraford]

Today was supposed to be my last day at parks, but I've been fighting a cold for the past week and the temp outside is below freezing. So I went to work to turn in my keys, told the boss I was sick and he said 'see you in spring.'

And I am always thinking about how, last season at the photo studio, I gave my boss a 24 hour notice that I was having a serious bronchitis flare-up and that I wouldn't be able to make the 1.5 hour trip to work. And she said 'wow, you're never sick, so it must be serious. But we really need you tomorrow, you know how important this account is and your efficiency is key to getting everyone done on time. If you can make it on Wednesday I promise you can have Thursday off. But we really really need you!"

And I'm coughing up a lung, I'm disoriented, head hurts, body hurts, chills, fever- if you didn't know about bronchitis you'd think it was covid.

And I caved, because I'm a people-pleaser. And I got up at 5am to drive 1.5 hours to a town out in the middle of nowhere that pays us big money but i only get a little bit of, sat there with a box of chloroseptic cough drops, stressing myself out, stressing the teachers out because they think I'm contagious, stressing the kids out because they think it's covid, no lunch break because its 1600 students and they never scheduled us any downtime, 1.5 hours back to crash when I get home and be miserable for 3 days, when I could have taken the day off and recovered in less time.

Only for her to then turn around at the time of employee reviews and tell me that I'm difficult to work with because if I don't get my way I throw a tantrum and that my noncompliance is a liability, and that I go too fast.

And this morning I walked into the break room said "Hey jim- I hate to do this to you on my last day, but I've been fighting a cold all week and I don't wanna get everyone else sick."

"You wanna go home?"

"If it's not too much trouble."

"You coming back next year?"

"Thats the plan."

"See you then. I'll take your keys."

[lavenderspence]

Sweater Thief | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, domestic fluff, mention of scars, inaccurate use of law jargon

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: You’ve always loved wearing Aaron’s quarter zip, especially when he is away on a case. But he also loves coming home and seeing you in it.

A/N: Welp, this is my first Hotch fic! Honestly, I love this so much, and the inspo is simply my love and appreciation for Hotch in a quarter zip sweater, simply delicious. Enjoy this little baby, I have more Hotch fics in the works. And also, storyboards or gifs, what's better?

masterlist

The house felt unusually cold for mid-September. The sun had long ago gone down the horizon, taking the little warmth it had provided with itself. Your home was quiet - Jack was spending the 3 day weekend with Jessica, and Aaron had been on a case in Massachusetts for the past 4 days. 

You were feeling the loneliness slowly start to take over. Although Jack had been gone for no more than 4 hours, you had gotten used to it being the two of you whenever Aaron was away. He’d become your little partner in crime in the year and a half you've been dating his dad. He was an unbelievably charming and calm kid - you guessed the perfect mixture of both his parents. At least you thought as much, from what Aaron, Jessica, and Jack had shared about Haley. 

He loved cartoons, and he loved building things - legos and 3D models. He also loved puzzles, especially when you helped him assemble them. 

But you also shared one very important thing - you both loved and missed his dad whenever he was traveling for work. That’s why having each other was so special, and spending time together was always a blast - you baked together, you played, and you went on walks. You were there for each other whenever Aaron had to work.

To be fair, neither you nor Jack blame Aaron or his job. You knew how important it was to him and how important his work was to the families that faced tragedy. He was an important part of the BAU, and he needed to do what he was doing - he was made to help people. 

But not having him here and not having Jack to love on, and take care of, the house felt far too empty and quiet. It was bringing forth a sadness that often came with the feeling of missing him, and in this case, missing them both.

With a defeated sigh, knowing you had nothing to do this evening, and with the cold chilling you almost to the bone, you started for the stairs and walked into the master bedroom. You made it into the closet and went searching around deep in Aaron’s winter clothes until you found what you were looking for and pulled it free. 

The quarter zip was dark brown and soft against your palms, and it faintly smelled like him. It was one of your favorite pieces of clothing he owned and your favorite to wear when he wasn’t home. 

You pulled it on, almost melting into the fabric. It was a little big on you, reaching down past your hipbones, and around your fingers. That was fine though, it was just another reason to love his clothes. You felt like you were wrapped around him, calmed by the feeling and the scent of him around you. It made you feel just a tad less lonely, especially today. 

You went around the house, doing small things here and there, trying to pass the time. After an hour though, you felt like you needed your mind occupied, just for a little while longer. Like a part deep inside of you was expecting Aaron home tonight.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d stayed up to wait for him to get home, but he usually called if he was returning in the late hours of the evening. A call hadn’t come though, neither had a text, and still you felt it. 

You found yourself in the study, pulling a book from the shelf before you relaxed on the little couch there and cracked it open. No more than 40 minutes had gone by, escaping into the world the pages painted for you, when you heard the front door. The familiar clank of Aaron’s keys being put on the little table by the door followed. 

You dog-eared the book, too excited to search for anything else to mark your progress, and then you left the room, making your way towards the front to welcome him home.

He’d just taken his shoes off, pulling his tie free, when you spotted him by the door. He heard you walk it, smiling your way gently, if a little tiredly.

“Hi, honey.” He greeted you with a whisper, just as you stepped in front of him. Your arms automatically wrapped around his middle, and your face found its’ favorite place - at the crook of his neck. You sagged against each other, a sigh escaping him, just your touch enough to make him relax.

“Hey, I missed you.” You whispered back, as he pulled you even closer to himself, one arm low on your back, as the other cradled your head with a gentle touch.

“I missed you, too.” He pulled back, only to lean in for a sweet kiss. His lips pressed against yours tenderly, a magnetic current passing through you at the touch. As you relaxed into the kiss, letting him bleed his love though, the longing within you quieted. You took everything he gave, and still wished for more, starving for him and his touch, after days when you couldn’t have him like this.  

You’d never get enough of the kisses he pulled you into the moment he walked home. The yarning for each other and the quiet relief of finally being in the arms of the person who loved and cherished you like no other. Kisses full of want and love. So similar in taste, but vastly different every time, as if each time was the first time he was coming back home to you. 

When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. You studied him, the dark circles under his eyes were now more evident than ever. His hair looked unkempt as if the frustration of the job had really gotten to him this time. The more he looked at you, the more his eyes softened, and the worry left his body gradually. 

“Why are you up this late?” His thumb ran across your cheekbone.

“Had a feeling you might be coming home tonight.” He pulled you to him, kissing the side of your head as you slowly started pulling him towards the bedroom. He left his go bag next to the door, leaving the worry of unpacking for tomorrow. 

You finished pulling his tie free, before removing it. His suit jacket came off next, and you draped it over the back of the vanity chair. 

His hands found a place on your hips, and every few seconds he’d give you a light squeeze as you worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

“Isn’t this the sweater I was looking for before I went to Boston?” He tugged on it gently, a furrow in his brows, but the smile on his face betrayed him, he was amused because he already knew the answer.

“Oh, this one? I must have been thinking about another one, sorry honey.” You were barely holding in your smile. This was in fact the quarter zip he had been looking for 4 days ago, wanting to pack it in case of bad weather, but you’d stashed it deep into the closet after the last time he’d worn it. 

He chuckled, sounding tired, as you pulled off his shirt, laying a few kisses on his chest and abdomen as you chased the phantom pain of the scars left standing from his past. Each one got attention, just like every time you undressed him. His breathing always picked up, at first in surprise, and quickly after that out of love. 

You knew his feelings about the scars left from a dark moment in his life, having talked about it at length, and you always told him the same thing. Regardless of his past, his demons, fears, and even those scars, the man that he was now, was the man you loved. The man you went home to, kissed every morning and each night, whose smile you saw in your sleep. Nothing was going to change that. 

You went in search of a sleep shirt for him as he finished getting undressed. 

“I knew you were a heart thief, sweetheart, I mean, I have the evidence to prove it, but a sweater thief, I didn’t take you for.” He pulled you into another kiss, voice teasing, as was the smile on his face. He always claimed you stole his heart, but then again, he’d stolen yours just the same. 

“Your honor, the prosecution has no evidence to support such a claim, it’s all a ploy to smear my good name,” You rambled, getting a rich laugh out of him, “In all fairness, it smells like you, reminds me of you in the sweetest and hottest way possible. It’s comforting, whenever you’re away on the job.” You confessed. 

He searched your eyes before he pulled you in to kiss your forehead, “Next time we’re sent on a case, I’ll make sure to leave something for you to wear while I’m away.” He promised, before he undressed you too, pulling one of his shirts over your head, and taking you to bed, where he cuddled you until morning. 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[charmedimsure]

THE NEXT EPISODE || thanos

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: You and Su-bong reunite after his stay at rehab. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: rehab, drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i've been working on this for like two weeks and i still feel like i could work on it more. i love this mini series i made and i'm excited to see how other people like it :) if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 1: Wake Up Call

Today is the big day. The day Su-bong has been working towards for the past six months.

Today he gets out of rehab.

He originally tried to quit on his own, but after multiple relapses, he decided he needed help. Due to his multiple addictions and how long he's been addicted for, the doctors at the facility suggested a longer stay for him, to which he agreed.

Before he left, he gave you the keys to his apartment, putting you in charge of managing the place while he's away. You also promised to get rid of anything in his apartment that could potentially be abused.

Rehab had actually not been bad. It certainly wasn't easy, but Su-bong felt better about it knowing there were so many other people there going through the same thing as him. He had ended up making some really good friends there, friends that he was excited to see again once they all got out. A few of them had made plans to meet up at a coffee house soon, about a week after Su-bong is released.

The thing Su-bong has been looking forward to the most while in rehab is seeing you again. The only visitors that were allowed were family members, so he had to settle for just talking to you on the phone.

"Can I see you soon?" Su-bong asks into the phone.

"I have to work today, but I'm off tomorrow if you want to come by?" you say. "Oh, and I left something for you on your counter."

Su-bong smiles into the phone. "You didn't have to do that."

"Don't get too excited, it's not much," you laugh. "But I just wanted to give you something to congratulate you."

"I'll be happy with anything you give me," he says.

"Cheesy," you groan, making him laugh. A small gasp comes from Su-bong's phone. "Shoot, my boss just texted me I have to go in early. I'm sorry, I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"All good," Su-bong says. "Yeah, I'll text you. Let me know when you get to the club and back home safe."

"I will," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

<>

Su-bong walks into his apartment. A chill washes over him. It's been so long since he was here, and he's changed so much. He puts his things down, walking into his kitchen.

A feeling of dread fills him. Was six months enough? Is he really able to do this?

A glint catches his eye, and he sees a small chain sitting on his counter. Attached to it is a dog tag. He picks it up, examining it. When he notices a clasp on the side of the dog tag, he opens it, revealing a small note in your handwriting.

'I'm proud of you <3'

A comfortable warmth fills his body as he smiles at your note. He closes the tag, immediately putting the chain around his neck.

He looks around his place. It holds way too many memories of his time before rehab. Waking up with a headache so bad he's worried his head might implode, turning over to see some random girl in his bed who's name he can't remember. That's not how he wants to live anymore.

He takes a water bottle from the fridge, which you must have put in there for him, and sits on his couch, looking up listings for available apartments. Preferably one close to you.

<>

Su-bong feels his heart race as he stands in front of your apartment door. He's been waiting for this moment for six months. With a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Footsteps are heard from the other side of the door. Something makes a loud bang and he hears you curse, making his lips twitch upwards.

The door opens and there you are. He swears you've only gotten more beautiful since he last saw you.

"Woah, I almost didn't recognize you," you smile.

He smiles, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He hadn't dyed his hair since before rehab, leaving it at its natural dark brown. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot."

"I like it," you say. "You look much more like Su-bong."

He feels his face heat up, muttering a shy 'thank you'.

You step to the side, opening the door wider. "Come in! I'll go grab a snack."

Su-bong walks into your apartment, a smile playing on his face at the familiar set up. You move to the kitchen and he sits on your couch. He chuckles at the new blanket laying next to him, clearly having been used recently.

He looks up as you walk back into the room, placing a bowl of pretzels and a bottle of blue Gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. You remembered.

He gestures toward the blanket. "That new?"

You put a pretzel in your mouth and smile at him, nodding enthusiastically. "My mom got it for me. You have to feel it, it's so soft." He chuckles as you cover your mouth with your hand, too excited to tell him about the blanket to wait until you've swallowed your food.

He reaches out to the blanket, eyes widening when his fingers graze the fabric. "Holy shit."

"Right?!" you laugh, picking up the blanket and sitting down. You toss it over both of your legs. You take a moment to study his face. "You look really good, Su-bong."

He feels himself blush, turning away in embarrassment. "Yeah, my pupils are finally the correct size."

You laugh at the comment. "Yes, that. But you also just look much healthier. Much happier."

He nods. "I feel happier. I thought I was happy all those nights at the club, drinking away my life. But now I know that wasn't real happiness." He looks at you, looking deep into your eyes. "This is real happiness."

Now it's your turn to look away, feeling heat rush to your face. "I'm glad. You deserve happiness."

He smiles.

"Even though you once tried to pay me to take off my shirt."

Su-bong cringes, bringing his hand to his face as you laugh. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"

You shake your head. "No way. This is the punishment you get for that. Me making fun of you. I think it's a fair exchange."

He laughs. "Fair enough."

You continue talking for the next hour or so, telling each other about everything and nothing. Su-bong's heart soars every time he is able to make you laugh. He's made music his entire life, but no song could ever compare to the sweet tune of your laughter.

"On Sunday I'm gonna meet up with a few friends from rehab at that new coffee place around the corner," he says. "Do you want to come?"

You shake your head. "Thank you for the invitation but I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding," he assures. "I, uh, talked about you a lot and they really want to meet you."

Your face heats up at his admission, nodding. "In that case, I'd love to go."

He smiles. "Good."

You put on a movie to watch, saying you saw one while he was away and couldn't wait to show it to him. Throughout the movie, Su-bong sneaks glances at you. He's wanted you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. You were the hot bartender with a fiery personality.

Now, though, as he watches you chew your lip in concentration, he sees just how amazing you truly are. You're the beautiful girl who changed his life for the better. The amazing girl who gave him a reason to become a better person. The kind girl who talked on the phone with him every day while he was in rehab.

You're his best friend. And he's deeply in love with you.

<>

Su-bong opens the door to the coffee house, letting you walk inside first before entering as well.

"Hey, Su-bong!" a voice yells, getting his attention. He smiles when he sees his friends, waving at them. He motions for you to follow him as you head over to the table.

"Hey guys," he greets, giving each of them a small hug. It feels nice to see them on the outside. They all accomplished the same thing, and they'll forever be close for doing it together.

He looks to you. "Oh right. This is Jung-su, Shin-il, and Ji-hae."

Each of them wave and smile at you as he says their names. Once he introduces you, they all seem to get a similar look on their faces.

"Oh, so you're the girl he keeps talking about," Shin-il smirks. Su-bong lightly smacks his arm, making the boy laugh.

"Shin-il, be quiet!" Ji-hae rolls her eyes. She turns to you. "He told us about how you helped him get sober. We're glad he had someone so supportive helping him."

You smile. "I just wanted to help any way I could. He's the one who ultimately chose to get help." You smile at him and he feels his heart melt. "And I'm glad he was able to make some great friends in there, from what he's told me."

"Aw, you talked about us?" Jung-su flashes Su-bong with puppy eyes, making the ladder roll his own.

"Plus, now he doesn't call me 'Señorita' anymore, so really I got something out of it too," you say.

The table bursts out in laughter and Su-bong hides his face behind his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here, I didn't realize you were all going to gang up on me."

You laugh, rubbing his arm. "I'm just kidding. Come on, let's go get something to drink."

You move to stand but he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I got it. What do you want?"

You tell him your order, thanking him as he walks to the counter.

Ji-hae leans across the table to you. "He really likes you, you know," she smiles. "Talked about you all the time."

You smile. "He's a really great guy. I wish I could've talked to him sooner, maybe he would've gotten help sooner. He's my best friend now."

"You should go out with him," she says. "Based on how he talked about you, he'd treat you right."

You turn to look at Su-bong, smiling as he rocks back and forth on his feet while waiting in line.

"I do like him," you say, turning back to Ji-hae. "I just want to give him some time first. He just got out of rehab, I feel like he should have some time to figure out what he really wants and adjust to sobriety, if that makes sense."

"Totally," Jung-su says, nodding his head. "I've been out two months now and I still feel like this is all new."

"Just please be there for him," Shin-il asks.

You nod. "I'm not going anywhere."

On the other side of the coffee house, while waiting for your drinks, Su-bong feels a hand grasp his shoulder.

"Holy shit man," a familiar voice says behind him. "You dropped off the face of the earth!"

Su-bong turns to see the smiling face of Nam-gyu.

"Where have you been, dude?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Nam-gyu continues.

"You know what, it doesn't matter." He pulls a small bag out of his jacket pocket. "I just got some new shit. It's fucking insane, man. You gotta try it."

He stares at the pills. This is the first time that drugs have been so accessible to him since before rehab. A cold sweat breaks out and his breath gets quicker. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do is pop one little pill.

He turns back to look at the table. You're sitting there, laughing with Jung-su. The sound flows to his ears and a soft smile graces his face. The sweat stops and his breathing goes back to normal.

He doesn't need pills anymore. He has you. And you make him so much happier than pills ever have or ever will.

He turns back to Nam-gyu, straightening his posture. "No, I don't do that stuff anymore."

Nam-gyu gives him a look. "Are you kidding, dude? You can't get this shit anywhere, and you're turning it down? What the fuck happened to you, Thanos?"

"It's Su-bong, actually," he says.

"No more Thanos!? What's going on?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to respond, but is beaten by another voice.

"Nam-gyu, leave him alone, please," you say, putting a hand on Su-bong's shoulder as you step beside him.

Nam-gyu looks between the two of you before a knowing smile spreads on his face.

"Oh, I see," he says. "So this is the guy you've been calling all the time." The barista calls out his name and he takes his cup. "Knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together, I should've bet on it." He turns, walking toward the door. "I'll see you at work!"

You wave to him as he leaves, turning to Su-bong. "Are you okay? He didn't give you anything, did he?"

He shakes his head. "He offered, but I said no. I was expecting him to be a lot less understanding."

"I've been talking to him the past few months at work, turns out he's not bad when he's not constantly sticking his nose up someone else's ass," you say, making Su-bong laugh. His name is called and you take the cups from the barista, thanking them before handing Su-bong's drink to him, taking his hand and leading him back to the table.

"Welcome back, Señorita," Shin-il smirks.

The table bursts out in laughter again and Su-bong stands from the table, waving goodbye to everyone. You grab his wrist before he can get too far, laughing along with him as he sits back down next to you.

<>

It's been about five months since Su-bong got out of rehab. He's been doing very good, resisting every time he feels even the slightest temptation.

He's gotten back into music and is working on his next album, which is going to be the first he's releasing that's not under the name "Thanos", instead rebranding as Choi Su-bong. You're of course his biggest supporter and he plays you all of his songs to get your opinion. You've even helped on a few songs, and he plans on crediting you as a co-writer.

Remembering what you told him nearly a year ago, he surprised you one day with your own guitar, taking the time to teach you how to play. You're still learning, but he loves everything you play, nearly as much as he loves your laugh whenever you play the wrong note.

You've been dancing around each other for the past few months, both aware of your feelings, but liking what you have going on between you for now. As time passes, though, Su-bong can feel himself getting closer to the edge, ready to take the leap.

One day you're both sitting in Su-bong's new apartment when he turns to you.

"Hey," Su-bong says. You look up from your phone at him. "I uh, I want to play something for you, if that's okay."

You smile, locking your phone and putting it face-down on the couch. "Yeah, I'd love that."

He stands up and reaches his hand out towards you. You take it, standing as he leads you to his piano. He sits on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him.

"I actually wrote this for you," he says, shyly looking at you. You smile at him, giving him a nod of encouragement. With a deep breath, he begins playing the notes before singing.

"I text a postcard sent to you Did it go through? Sending all my love to you You are the moonlight of my life every night Giving all my love to you."

You feel your eyes start to water as you listen to the words. His words reflect exactly how you feel, put in a way that makes it more beautiful than anything you could say to him.

You've heard him sing more ties than you can count. But sitting here next to him, listening as he pours his heart out to you, you don't think any song will ever compare.

"With every breath that I am worth Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you So if you dare to second guess You can rest Assured that all my love's for you."

Su-bong puts his entire heart into the song. He had started writing it on the piano they had at the rehabilitation center. He had written a few songs while he was there, but this one was specifically inspired by you. The lyrics were from notes he would write down while talking to you, things that came to his head as your sweet voice drifted through the speaker of his phone.

"My beating heart belongs to you I walked for miles till I found you I'm here to honor you If I lose everything in the fire I'm sending all my love to you."

He stops playing, bringing his arms to his sides. He slowly looks up at you. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever pay you back, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me."

A tear escapes your eye. You sniffle, nodding your head.

Su-bong reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He looks down to your lips before looking back up to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

He leans forward, closing his eyes as his lips make contact with yours. Su-bong has kissed girls before, more than he'd like to admit, but he feels like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time.

This is a moment nearly a year in the making. All of his longing for you, his adoration of you is put into the kiss.

He pulls back, regaining his breath as he looks over your face. Your kiss-swollen lips are just begging to be kissed again, but there's something that needs to be done first.

"I love you," he says. "I've loved you for a long time. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."

You smile at him, and he feels starstruck by how beautiful you are. "I love you too, Su-bong," you say. "I'm forever grateful that you showed me the real you that day in my apartment. Because I love the real you. So much."

Su-bong's face lights up in a smile, leaning forward to capture your lips again in an awkward kiss that makes you both laugh.

All his hard work is paying off. He is finally worthy of happiness. He is finally worthy of you. And he's going to spend every day making sure he stays worthy.

Song: Last Night on Earth by Green Day

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[deansbeer]

where the waves rest easy ⎯⎯ DEAN WINCHESTER.

⎯⎯ you and dean take the kids to the beach, where he opens up about his past, his love for you, and the life you've built together after leaving hunting behind.

♡ KARI YAPS! @deanswidow also contributed a tiny lil idea 4 this so dedicating this 2 her <3 ur dean's babygirl bc it felt right 🤍 love u pooks !!!!!

♡ WARNING(S) fluff | angst | family bonding | mentions of past violence | major character death (pls dont hate me I’ll cry) | grief. mdni ♱ 18 plus. adult content.

📖 JACKLES library.

IT'S BEEN TWO YEARS SINCE DEAN QUIT HUNTING.

two years since he put the colt and his sawed-off shotgun away for good. since he walked away from the life that had defined him for so long. since he said goodbye to the monsters, the blood, and the constant weight of death hanging over him.

two years since sam died.

god, you still catch him looking at the horizon sometimes, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists like he's bracing himself for something—like he's expecting the next apocalypse to come knocking at your front door. but it never does.

because dean walked away.

he walked away for you. for your family. for SAMMY, the little boy with his brother's name and his father's stubbornness. for JEMMA, the baby girl who's only been on this earth eight months and already has DEAN WINCHESTER wrapped around her tiny fingers. he walked away because he couldn't do it anymore—because burying his brother nearly killed him, and he knew if he didn't stop, he'd be burying you next. or the kids. or himself.

and you know sam would've wanted this for him. he would've wanted dean to have what they'd always dreamed about when they were kids: a home, a family, a life that wasn't overshadowed by death and duty.

so dean quit.

he got a job as a firefighter, of all things—because of course he did. being a firefighter lets him save people without the baggage of what came with hunting. it's hard work, but it's honest work, and it keeps his hands busy. it keeps his mind busy, too, most of the time. and you? you're a kindergarten teacher, which means your days are filled with crayons, storytime, and glue-sticked chaos.

it's not the life he ever thought he'd have—hell, it's not the life he ever thought he deserved—but he loves it. he loves you. he loves his kids. and even on the hard days, when the itch to hunt creeps up on him, or when he sees something on the news that makes his instincts scream at him to grab his gun, he reminds himself why he stopped. why he has to stay.

because this is worth it.

you and the kids are worth it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

it's a friday when DEAN suggests going to the beach.

you both decided to take a day off—something rare, since your lives are usually so busy between work and the kids. but today, the sun is shining, the weather's perfect, and dean woke up with that lopsided grin you love so much, the one that makes him look ten years younger.

"whaddya think?" he asks as he pours you a cup of coffee, jemma balanced on his hip like she's always belonged there. "a beach day? sammy's been talking about it all week, and i think the squirt here could use her first dip in the ocean, don't you?"

you laugh, taking the coffee from him and leaning up to kiss his cheek. "sounds perfect."

so you pack up BABY with towels, sunscreen, a cooler full of snacks, and all the other million things you need when you have two kids under three. sammy's bouncing with excitement the entire drive, and jemma babbles happily from her car seat, her chubby hands reaching for DEAN every time he glances back to check on her. what a daddy's girl.

when you finally get to the beach, the first thing you notice is how peaceful it is. it's not too crowded—just a few families scattered along the sand, kids building castles and couples lounging under umbrellas.

and you can tell the moment DEAN steps onto the sand that this place means something to him.

you've been here before, of course—this is where he proposed to you. but there's something about the way he looks at the water, the way he takes a deep breath like he's letting go of something heavy, that makes you realize just how much this spot actually means to him.

"you okay, baby?" you ask softly, slipping your hand into his.

he turns to you, and for a moment, the smile he gives you is so FULL of love it makes your chest ache. "yeah, sweetheart," he says. "just… this place. it kinda reminds me why i'm here, y'know?"

you nod, squeezing his hand. and then sammy tugs on his leg, demanding to go play in the water, and DEAN laughs, scooping him up and spinning him around before setting him down and chasing after him.

you watch them run toward the waves, and your heart feels so full it might burst.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a little while later, you're walking along the shore with him, jemma cradled in his arms. sammy's still splashing in the water, his laughter carried on the breeze, and you can't help but smile as you watch him. he really is a miniature version of DEAN—same green eyes, same freckles, same mischievous grin.

"he's got your stubbornness, too," you say, nudging DEAN with your shoulder.

he chuckles. "yeah, well, he gets that from both of us, sweetheart. don't kid yourself."

you laugh, leaning your head against his bicep as you walk. the sand is warm beneath your feet, the waves lapping gently at the shore, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

"you remember why i proposed to you here?" he asks suddenly, his voice soft.

you look up at him, surprised. "of course i do. but i wouldn't mind hearing it again."

he smiles, his eyes distant for a moment as he looks out at the water. "it was right after we found out sammy was on the way," he says. "i was scared out of my fucking mind, if i'm being honest. not about you—about being a dad. about screwing it all up. but then we came here, and you were sitting right there"—he nods toward a spot near the water—"and you just looked so… happy. like you weren't worried about anything. and i realized that if i was gonna do this—if i was gonna have a family, a real life—it had to be with you. because you make everything better, y'know? even when it's scary. especially when it's scary."

his voice cracks a little at the end, and you blink back tears, reaching up to cup his face. "baby…"

"i mean it," he says, his voice rough. "you saved me, sweetheart. you and the kids—you're the reason i'm still here. the reason i didn't just… give up after sam."

you kiss him then, pouring everything you feel into it. he kisses you back, jemma squirming a little between you but not enough to break the moment.

when you finally pull away, you're both smiling, and for the first time in a long time, you see nothing but peace in his eyes.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

the rest of the day is spent soaking up the sun, building sandcastles, and chasing sammy around the beach. DEAN lets him bury him in the sand at one point, laughing as both SAMMY and JEMMA work together to pile sand on top of him.

"i think they're plotting against me," he says, grinning up at you from his sandy grave.

"probably," you reply, laughing as jemma pats a handful of sand onto his chest.

as the sun starts to set, dean takes both kids down to the water to look for crabs. sammy's eyes light up every time he spots one, and jemma claps her hands excitedly, even though you're pretty sure she doesn't know what's going on.

you watch them from a distance, your hand resting on your stomach. it's still early—you haven't told DEAN yet—but you know he'll be just as thrilled as you are when he finds out you're expecting again.

watching him with SAMMY and JEMMA, seeing the way he lights up around them, there's no doubt in your mind that he was meant to be a dad.

and as you sit there, watching the man you love with the family you've built together, you realize that this is what happiness looks like.

it's not perfect—it's messy and chaotic and sometimes downright exhausting—but it's yours.

and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

later that night, after the kids are asleep and the house is quiet, DEAN pulls you into his arms.

"thank you," he whispers, his voice barely audible in the darkness.

"for what?" you ask, resting your head against his chest.

"for this," he says, his hand moving to rest over your stomach. "for giving me a reason to keep going. for giving me a family."

you smile, tears pricking at your eyes again. "you don't have to thank me for that, my love. you've given me just as much."

he presses a kiss to your forehead, holding you close. and as you drift off to sleep, you can't help but think about how far you've both come—how far he's come.

because DEAN WINCHESTER may have walked away from hunting, but he's still a hero.

he's YOUR hero.

and he always will be.

♡ SPECIAL TAGS. @beausling @a1ecmcdowell @jasvtsc @titsout4nicholas @aileenunfiltered @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @archiveofvirtue @ultravi0lence14 @rubyvhs @ohsc . . . ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

[starlightxsvt]

Guilty | sibilance. 3

synopsis ➳ ❝ after months you see Wonwoo at the annual party. lines are crossed, accusations are made and just after, your colleague voices out a crazy proposition.❞

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo (ft. Jeonghan)

genre ➳ angst, smut, drama

word count ➳ 4.5k + 900(patreon bonus)

warnings ➳ cursing, toxic ex vibes, slight love triangle, rough sex, unprotected intercourse, dom!wonwoo, big dic!wonwoo, messy makeouts, dirty talk, degradation, cream pie, no aftercare, so much drama.

previous chapter

The weather is misty today. Winter has passed quickly over the past three months, and now spring is starting to ease the chill from the air. Yet, you still feel just as tired, if not more so than before.

A break is an imminent necessity, but you will not be getting any until you wrap up your current case. It is a huge one, viral on social media due to its scandalized nature, but most importantly, your client and his opponent are extremely exhausting. It is like managing toddlers, and you are ever so grateful that Jeonghan is also handling this case with you.

It is a particularly sensitive case because your client is the owner of the biggest textile company in the country and also, Chairman Jeon’s good friend, Mr Kim. Last month, he married his daughter off to another huge chaebol family in the country and the issue began with the catering service for the wedding, owned by Mr Kim’s ex business partner and current rival. The guests all got food poisoning right in the middle of the ceremony and the bride had an allergic reaction, throwing Mr Kim into a fit as he claimed it to be an attempted murder to get revenge on him.

Things have been chaotic since then, keeping you on your toes.

Despite being snowed under your work, a particular rumour floating around the Jeon Corporation caught your attention and has been a constant form of distraction ever since you heard it.

Word on the street says that Chairman Jeon is set to announce a new CEO at the annual party of the company taking place this weekend and apparently, one candidate is his own son and the other is a completely new hire. Six months ago you would have laughed at the rumour of the Chairman’s son, Wonwoo— who you know personally, taking over the company but now, you can say nothing for sure.

It has been nearly three months since you last saw him, partly due to your hectic schedule and also due to the lack of work at Jeon Corporation. Since you have not visited the headquarters recently, you have not been tortured by the sight of that infuriating man but you have to admit that thoughts of Wonwoo have been plaguing your mind. They pop up randomly in your head and you hate your mind for betraying you like that.

You are supposed to move on. And it was not even an actual relationship so why are you still thinking about that stupid, spoiled brat?

“Your drink.” Jeonghan places your coffee on your desk, snapping you out of your reverie. You turn from the window in front of which you were standing and walk back to your desk, taking a sip of your latte with a grateful smile. “I still cannot believe you got my order exactly right on the first try. Thank you.”

It is truly insane. A month ago one day, as your work started piling up, you stopped taking your usual coffee breaks and instead asked Jeonghan to grab you something, forgetting to mention how you like your coffee. Unbelievably, when you tried what he brought for you, you were astounded to the point of silence.

Turns out you and his sister have very similar tastes so he got lucky with that.

“You are most welcome.” Jeonghan smiles, throwing a cheeky wink at you. “Just knock on my door if you need anything.”

“Will do.” You pause for a moment. Just as he is about to close the door behind him, you call, “Jeonghan, you’re attending the party this weekend, right?”

The man steps back into your office. “Yes. Actually, I am glad that you brought it up.”

You wait, looking at him expectantly.

“Would you be my date for the evening?” 

You smile. “Gladly.” Everyone you know already has a plus one so you were dreading showing up alone. As always, Jeonghan has come to the rescue.

“I am honoured.” Jeonghan smiles, his eyes crinkling beautifully. “I was worried Mr. Pi would ask me to be his plus one. I mean it was either going to be you or me.”

You snort a burst of laughter. “I know, right? But he will not get off our backs when he figures out we’re coming together. You know he has that weird obsession of pairing us together like a couple.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan’s face grows serious.“That isn’t a bad idea, you know.”

A soft sigh falls from your lips.

“You should move on from him. It has been long enough, don’t you think?”

“I am over him,” you reply, almost defensively. “Listen, if there is one thing I have learned, it is, not to date where you work.”

Jeonghan chuckles softly. “Office romance is quite fun you know.”

You arch a teasing brow. “Someone seems experienced.’’ The man smiles secretively before stepping closer to the door, pulling it open with one hand. “Just giving you a heads up, you haven’t seen me in a suit yet.”

“I see you in a suit every day, Jeonghan.” You sass.

The man rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. A proper three piece suit. A tuxedo. Prepare to have your mind blown.” He shakes his palms for dramatic effect.

You sip your coffee. “Mhm, stop pestering me now. I have so much work to do.”

The man flashes a smile before pulling the door closed.

You still have a grin lingering on your lips as you open your files and start skimming through them.

—

On Saturday night, Jeonghan is in front of your house sharply at 7.

You rush to the door as you receive his text, putting on your heels and scrambling to get your purse and phone. 

You are going to be late but hey, at least you will be fashionably late. 

Buying this emerald green dress impulsively six months ago was not a bad idea, you now realize, because you love how the dress fits you. With your hair and makeup done, it is almost a completely new you and you may have taken too long admiring yourself in the mirror.

Jeonghan’s jaw goes slack as he watches you step out of your apartment building. His expression makes you laugh and you cannot help but shake your head at his overexaggeration. 

“Wow,” his eyes move up and down as he steps closer to you. “Fucking hell. You look absolutely stunning.”

Shyly you avoid his gaze. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.” You gesture towards him, waving your hand up and down his height. The coffee-coloured three piece suit is truly a fabulous compliment to his brushed back blond hair.

The man shakes his head. “You were the one who should have given me a heads up. I have the prettiest woman in the party as my date.”

This man sure has a way with his words.

“I can see why you are such a successful lawyer, Mr. Yoon.” You saunter past him. “Let’s get going now. We’re already late.”

“Yes madam,” he rushes past you to hold open the car door, making you smile.

—

The venue is crowded when you arrive.

It takes no more than five minutes for your colleagues to spot the two of you and five more minutes later, you are graced by Mr. Pi’s holy presence. He gushes over the two of you and when Jeonghan escapes the conversation by saying he’ll get drinks for you, Mr. Pi corners you.

“Are you sure you are not dating our dear Mr. Yoon?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “No, Mr. Pi. Come on now, let it be.”

He hums and then nods thoughtfully, pushing his sunglasses up his nose bridge.

Who knows why he is wearing that indoors and at night.

“I understand,” the man rubs his chin slowly and seriously as if he is pondering the most critical issue of life. “Our chairman’s handsome son left a lasting impression on you.”

Even before you realise it, a soft, almost wistful sigh escapes your lips. “Can we not talk about him? At least not here?”

Mr. Pi looks at you from above his sunglasses, “This is the place to talk about him. Tonight people will talk about him.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Wait, what?

“Mr. Pi—” You reach out for him but he spots an old colleague and walks over to him, ignoring you with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Right then, Jeonghan is back with two flutes of champagne in his hands. You snatch one from him and immediately gulp it down. Then, you narrow your eyes at him. “Nice job, jerk. Leaving me alone with him.”

The man cheekily shrugs his shoulder, unable to fight off the knowing smile blooming on his lips. Grinning at you, he sips his champagne. 

With a shake of your head, you go around the room accompanied by Jeonghan, mingling with old and new faces. The stage is being set up for the upcoming speeches by the top executives of the company. The closing speech will, of course, be Chairman Jeon’s. The grand hall room increasingly grows crowded as you finish two more glasses of champagne while socialising, everyone eager to hear the big announcement.

“I think you have drunk enough for now.” Jeonghan blocks your hand when you reach for the fourth glass as a waiter passes by. You pout, “Oh come on. Socialising takes a lot of energy. I cannot talk to these boring people about boring things on a Saturday night while being sober.”

A scoff of amusement comes from him and he opens his mouth to say something but his vision shifts, focusing on something behind you. His expression changes and you turn your head back to see what he is looking at.

Not what. Who.

Wonwoo stands a few feet behind you, looking unfairly stunning. The contrast of his black blazer against his crisp white shirt is stunning and with sharp features and his hair brushed back, he is a scene stealer.

He, however, seems not to attract attention as he remains on the edge of the hall room, near where the lights are dimmer. As your eyes meet his and the raging beat of your heart loudens, he holds your gaze before taking quick steps towards you.

Within a couple of seconds, he is right in front of you. 

“We need to talk. Privately.” He says, his posture slightly rigid, and he looks around the room as if making sure no one sees him.

You don’t have much time to process his words as he ushers you away by tugging your wrist. You look back at Jeonghan almost helplessly and the man gives you an understanding nod. “I’ll be here, don’t worry.”

You are quickly rushed out of the grand room and pulled down a hallway at the end of which there are a few private rooms. Wonwoo pulls you inside and shuts the door behind you.

The room is messy and if you are not wrong, it seems to be his dressing room.

In your mind, an equation starts to form as you take everything in.

Finally, your eyes land on Wonwoo after scouring the room and you find him looking at you attentively.

There is a hard lump in your throat that you have to swallow.

“Hi.” The man says quietly, almost shyly.

“It has been a while,” you murmur as a greeting, trying to keep your voice as flat as possible. 

“Way too long,” he replies, his voice much quieter as he enunciates each word slowly and carefully. You wonder if it is your mind playing tricks on you or if the depth of his eyes just increased tenfold.

Whatever, you cannot let yourself get caught up in this again. The tension in the air is thickening by the second.

“Why did you bring me here?” You avoid his eyes, your gaze settling on the skin peeking from underneath his shirt as the two buttons are undone.

“Right.” Wonwoo blinks as if breaking out of a trance. “I wanted to tell you something. I mean…it will be announced later but I thought you out of all people should hear it from me first.”

The way he speaks, his eyes skirting around, his hands fidgety tells you what the news is. You voice it out for him. “You are taking over the company?”

You see his pupils widen. After a moment's pause, he says. “Yes.”

Hm. He is dressed too fancy to attend as a mere employee anyway.

You are proud of him for sure. He has grown as a person since you last saw him. But at the same time, there is dread in the pit of your stomach. With him now taking over the company, there is no escaping him. You will be seeing him, whether you like it or not. 

“Congratulations.” You hum. “I appreciate you informing me separately but it wasn’t necessary. We don’t have any personal contact. I am just another employee, Jeon…Chairman Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo looks at you with surprise and you wonder if it is your icy demeanour that makes him frown.

“Still…I have to thank you. You had a huge part to play in getting me here.”

Oh really?

For a brief moment, your mind flashes back to earlier this year when you were seeing each other. The late night talks about his future with the company. You find yourself wondering how he managed to earn his father’s trust so quickly because you remember him telling you his father would never let him take over. Due to his unrefined behaviors, of course. But it seems that he has grown out of them which is good for him.

“I better get going. Jeonghan is probably waiting for me.” You step towards the door but Wonwoo grabs your upper arm, pulling you back with a gentle tug.

“Do you not miss me? Not one bit?” His voice is so thick with emotion that it feels foreign to you. Like his, your throat closes up, and you hate how a few words from him make tears burn in the back of your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. Just let—”

“It does! There is something else I have to tell you.”

“I don’t care!” You yell, jerking yourself free from his hold. “You can not act all familiar after so long. We are not like that anymore! Why can’t you understand?”

In the semi darkness of the room, you see his eyes glimmer. 

The very next moment he is kissing you.

And you are kissing him back. 

Just for tonight, you tell yourself as your resolve slips. You are going to give in just tonight. Just one last time. You truly don’t have it in you to turn away from him now, from his warmth, touch, and embrace when this is what you have been longing for the past few months.

Maneuvering your body with his, he pins you against the wall, trapping you with ease. And tonight, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"I missed you." He whispers like a mantra, devouring your mouth like a starved man. He trails kisses down your jaw as his hands remove your straps from your shoulders, revealing the entire expanse of your shoulder and neck for him to play with. In between heated kisses, his hands explore your breasts, playing with your soft mounds over the fabric of your dress. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you. 

Your hands move over his chest, feeling the firm muscles under your fingertips before pushing his blazer off his shoulders. The lines are hazy just like your mind as you cannot decipher who pulls whom closer. In the dense cloud of lust, you can only fathom the opening of the buttons of his shirt and his warm body pressing next to yours. 

“I need you,” Wonwoo murmurs against your lips. One of his hands moves expertly down your thigh before he grips the back of your knee and places it around his waist. You pull him even closer, smashing your lips against his, hot and heavy as your tongue meets his.

Briefly, you hear the groan of his zipper being undone. You lift your dress, standing at an angle that helps him comfortably slide between your legs, his unrelenting grip on the back of your thigh.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. " His whisper is a command as he positions himself at your entrance, pushing your panties to a side.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud, breathy groan of pleasure that makes you squeeze his shoulders and bite your lip. 

This. This is exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you needed.

You feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your hold on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're so tight. I missed you.” He grunts with each thrust. “Letting me fuck you against a wall, in my dressing room. Tell me, did you miss this? Did you miss me like I missed you?" Wonwoo demands, a hand reaching up to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Look at me and tell me you did not miss me,” he pants, a snarl etched in his tone as he removes his hand from your face and grips the back of your throat, pulling your face closer to his.

"W-Wonwoo," you try to moan. Wonwoo keeps watching you with a darkened gaze, his pace matching the fierceness in his gaze as he continues to drill into you. He shakes after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back. “You are still that dirty girl. You're still my filthy slut."

You hate how much you missed his filthy mouth. 

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, let me come, Wonwoo."

The man smiles, and it almost appears cruel and cocky as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall. He increases his pace, thrusting in and out of you so hard that your back starts aching. However, you are way beyond complaining because the next moment his release is filling you up, triggering yours. Your cry is loud and unceremonious as you cling to him and ride out your high, feeling your release in the deepest fibres of your being

A short moment later, Wonwoo’s grip on you loosens. With a slightly hazy mind, you watch you grab some tissues, cleaning up you and him. With the haze of lust disappearing gradually, you find your head clearing up. The silence in the air now feels suffocating and you find yourself playing a guessing game.

Why is he so quiet? What is he thinking?

As Wonwoo buttons up his shirt and fixes his jacket, his gaze meets yours and you see his eyes fall on your lips. Pressing your fingertips around your lips, you realise your lipstick is smudged. Quietly, he hands you a tissue paper and you walk to the mirror, using it to dab the lipstick stain around your lips.

In the mirror, you watch Wonwoo watching you. All throughout, another strange, suffocating silence persists. As you toss the tissue in the bin, the silence is finally broken by his quiet, somber voice, “My father arranged a marriage for me.”

Your body grows ice cold.

For one long, horrible moment, you stop breathing, thinking, praying that you heard wrong.

“What are you…what— what do you mean?”

“He wants me to marry a chaebol heiress— Yuna Lee, sometime next year.”

Suddenly, you are scrambling to get your thoughts in order. It is always like this with him. One moment it is quiet and the next you are hit by a full speed freight train. 

“You should not have done that. We should not have done that. Why didn’t you tell me that before?” 

“Well, I tried—”

Suddenly, your blood is boiling and you are seeing red.

“What was this, a goodbye fuck?” You hiss, fixing the straps of your dress.

“What?” Wonwoo scoffs. “No! I have been thinking about you for months! Trying to figure out how to approach you—

“With all that thinking you sure did one good job!” You find yourself turning towards the door. 

“Oh come on! I…I missed you. You drive me crazy. You know damn well my brain stops working when you are near me.”

“No, Wonwoo. I don’t.” You grit. 

The passion, the emotion that you have been holding back all these months comes out in tidal waves. “In case you don’t remember, during our relationship, you were always so nonchalant, so detached. You did not give a shit about me. Not really because I was a fuck buddy to you. A girl getting paid to get your ass out of trouble every time and also someone available for a quick bang!”

Wonwoo’s demeanour shifts. You visibly see him get defensive. “Well, it's not like you professed your love to me! You did not ever hint that you were in love with me.”

Your mouth falls open at the absurdity of his words.

“You… you did not treat me with the minimum respect. You would disappear for weeks, Wonwoo, completely out of the radar only to show up when you needed my help.” You pause. “Never mind, it is pointless to argue with you.” You turn, reaching for the handle of the door.

Wonwoo stops you by roughly tugging on your arm. His grip is iron solid. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to leave without hearing my piece!”

You place a hand on his and use it to remove his fingers from your skin. “The time for speaking was months ago. Not now in a dressing room, minutes before you are about to be announced the new CEO.”

“I finally have my life together!”

“Do you?” You take a step closer to him with a challenge. “Do you really?”

Wonwoo remains silent, his eyes sparkling with thundering storms and clouds of emotions.

You continue. “I was your comfort zone. You used me when you needed me and then forgot about me when you were not in the mood. It would not have mattered if I professed undying love for you. You did not love me, not in the right way. You did not and you don’t right now. This is you trying to find comfort in something familiar…me.”

A twisted, unironical smile appears on his lips. “Oh, so you are what now, a therapist?”

You remain silent, watching him without blinking.

The man shakes his head, scoffing. “If you only knew how I truly felt…” His fingers card through his hair as he takes a step back. “You have no idea how I feel. In fact, right now, I don’t think you even know how you feel!”

Your lips part, ready to interject, but he goes on. “You are right. This was a mistake. I should not have told you about my dad’s plans of getting me married. No, because you would have liked to just straight up receive my wedding invite, huh? I should have just married her and showed up with her one day and introduced you as a special friend, no? Would you have liked that? Would that be the right thing to do?”

Each syllable coming out of his mouth burns like acid. Tears blur your vision but you force yourself not to cry in front of him.

“I fucking hate you.” You breathe, uttering each world slowly. “I hope you have a miserable life with her, you asshole. Never show me your face again.” Gathering your dress with one hand, you march towards the door, not stopping when he calls out your name or tries to hold onto you.

He can go to hell.

Your steps are quick as you pick up pace, running down the long hallway of the private rooms and then down a common corridor before you come to the large foyer in front of the elevator. With your skirt fisted in your hands, you dash for it but a voice makes you pause.

You turn back to find Jeonghan calling your name and jogging after you. As he comes to a stop in front of you, his eyes go up and down the length of your body, taking notice of your dishevelled appearance. 

“Are you okay?” His fingers gently touch your arm but you don’t let him pull you closer.

You need to leave.

“I need to go home.” You whisper, voice wobbly.

“Why are you running?” He steps closer to you, a desperation in his voice that matches the look in your eyes. “That bastard keeps hurting you and you keep running from him. Go and fucking… I don’t know— cause a scene! Drag him on stage and smack him once or twice.”

You are not in the mood for this.

“Stop it, Jeonghan,” you grunt turning away but the man steps in front of you.

“No! I won’t stop when I see you repeatedly suffering because of him.”

If you were not so overcome with emotions, you would roll your eyes.

“Just let me go.” You hiss, stepping past the man blocking your way. As you cross him, however, a harsh grip on your wrist forces you to stop. 

“Go out with me,” Jeonghan says in the calmest manner, the hold of his fingers on your wrist steadfast like his voice.

You almost make a move to yank yourself free but the diction of those words stops you in your tracks as if a thunderbolt has just struck you. You slowly turn your head back to meet Jeonghan’s eyes, wondering if he really said that. The strength you had moments ago to break your hand free suddenly dissipates as you meet his piercing gaze.

Along with your heartbeat, time stops.

You forget to blink, feeling the subtle tightening of his grip on you. As the silence hangs longer in the air and the depth of his words settles into the empty grand hall and every crevice of your tattered heart, you find yourself motionless, thoughtless, speechless.

“Date me. You know I’ll treat you better.” He states, again.

You feel like you are hyperventilating. A shaky breath comes from your lips and after that, each breath is a struggle. 

Suddenly, everything is too much.

Too much light in this hall. Too much noise in the background.

Too much sincerity in his words.

For a moment, you genuinely find yourself considering.

And as your gaze strays from your colleague for the smallest moment, you notice Wonwoo standing a few meters behind him. 

The look in his eyes is inexplicable but you feel every emotion radiating off him and you immediately know he heard everything. He doesn’t move, however. As the silence persists, his gaze darkens, watching you like a hawk, almost as if he is waiting to hear your verdict.

At the same time, the longer you look, his gaze appears vulnerable, betrayed.

And you feel…guilty.

Want to know how Jeonghan actually got the reader's order right? Read the special scene here!

series masterliest

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Part 7 - Three Stooges And A Minty Accident

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 (You're here) - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10

Just a warning, there will be an allergic reaction in this chapter, I don't know if it does call for a warning or not but I just want to be safe! Also, Characters are somewhat ooc, so, sorry for that!!

Water drips onto the tiled floor as you stand in the broken down bathroom of the apartment. Your hands grip onto the sinks and you look at your puffy, icky complexion.

You'd like to say you had taken the humiliation with grace, just simply walked it off. But you didn't, you couldn't stop the tears falling down you heading home and you're sure if there were anymore tears left to cry you would still be crying.

Honestly though, what were you expecting? You had a feeling something bad would happen, it's the Waynes after all.

Your phone is now unusable so you can't even contact your friends Sherri and Tia, both of whom you haven't spoken to much in the past couple of days.

You feel bad, the girls had been there for you since day 1. You're sure that if you had told them about your hero persona they'd support and try to help you - because that's what friends do.

You sigh as you decide to take a warm shower, you can already tell you're going to get sick but can only hope that somehow the spider bite would stop it from happening too harshly.

The water is warm on your skin as you stand there disassociating. You wish you stay there forever but your parents definitely wouldn't appreciate you raising the water bills.

You get out and dress in something comfortable - and more importantly, dry.

The whole day has been a shitshow and you just want to die. But, you are anything but a quitter - at least, you hope so.

Deciding to open up the laptop you see the time is already 3pm, that means school is out! Sherry and Tia are probably online now, so, you message them on the laptop.

You desperately needed a distraction from everything so Sherri, Tia and you decide to head to a nice cafe - one that doesn't have a bucket of ice cold water waiting to fall on you.

Heading to your room you put on your shoes and fish out $10 from a small piggy bank in your wooden chest. You head to the nearby cafe, a pep in your step as you go.

Meanwhile Duke was hanging out with Steph and Cass, the two girls wanting to invite him along to one of their outings, they had gotten pedicures, did some shopping, walked around a park and were now stopping at a cafe to get some drinks.

They hadn't checked the GC all day - in fact, they had silenced it due to the amount of messages going through.

Steph orders a chocolate milkshake, Cass orders a mint tea and Duke decides to order a hot chocolate. He was meant to be patrolling today but today was oddly peaceful so he decided against it.

The three sit down at a nearby table, unaware of the three people waiting in line behind them.

You however were not so oblivious. As soon as you walk in your face falls and a bad feeling washes over you - something bad is about to happen. Your spidey senses didn't need to enact for you to tell.

Still, you power through. Your friends are excited about this cafe and you don't want to be a buzzkill..

"(Reader)? Helloooo?" Tia waves a hand in front of your face jokingly as you snap out of your dread-filled state. You chuckle and roll your eyes playfully "Stop it Tia! You aren't funny!"

Tia gasps and dramatically puts a hand on her chest and pouts. "(Readerrrrrrr), you're actually so mean! Are you a secret villain or something?"

Before you can respond Sherri comes back, having ordered the drinks for you all. The cafe is crowded and you guys either have the choice of sitting next to a group of suspicious men or the three heroes.

Before you can weigh in Tia and Sherri already move to the table next to Steph, Cass and Duke so you have no choice but to sigh and follow, hoping nothing bad happens.

Duke glances over at the three who had sat at the table next to theirs out of curiosity. Upon seeing (Reader) he stiffens up slightly - out of everyone he's the one who has some of the least beef with (Reader) because he's convinced that if (Reader) just talks to Aranea then they'd stop being such a hater.

Yet, he knows Steph will make a deal of it if she sees (Reader) there, with snarky remarks made loud enough for the other three to hear, glares and dirty looks and possibly even confrontation. Cass wouldn't really react, she doesn't have much of an opinion on (Reader), at least not that she speaks on.

So overall, he's gotta try and not have Steph notice. Luckily, despite the cafe being to busy everyone already had their drinks and food. It was only Duke's group and (Reader)'s group left to be served. And as luck would have it both orders came at the same time.

You're laughing with your friends, trying to not draw attention to yourself - you could feel Duke glancing at you from time to time and pray that he won't start anything.

You get your drink, excited to finally get (Favorite drink) after so long. These days you rarely have the chance to get it, either not having time or not having money.

Sherri is joking around with Tia and you take a sip of your drink, too engrossed with the conversation to notice something off until the third sip.

Pausing you stare down at your drink and lick your lips. "Uh guys, this isn't my drink.." You state, looking at them. Normally it wouldn't be such a big deal but this time it was - you just had three regular sized sips of mint tea.

Mint is an allergy you picked up from the spider bite. Something you are now deathly allergic to.

At the same time Cass has already noticed that it isn't the drink she had ordered. She noticed straight away but Steph was too busy rambling on about some high school drama to let anyone else get a word in.

It's not that big of a deal for her, it's just that this drink wasn't her favorite. Looking to the table next to her she sees (Reader) with their friends, the cafe is very loud so she has to strain to listen to their conversation but by facial expressions alone she can tell.

Nothing good is happening.

Sherri is freaking out, like seriously freaking out. She gets up from her chair and quickly goes to call an ambulance, only stopped by you gripping onto her arm - it's too expensive to go to the hospital by ambulance.

Tia is by your side trying to make sure you stay conscious, she's also searching up remedies to try and help.

Your tongue is swollen, your mouth is itchy and your throat feels like it's closing in. Your abdomen is screaming in pain and you feel like vomiting, you can't breath yet you need to cough. You feel dizzy, your pulse beating slowly in your ears. It's too much..

The commotion draws attention of onlookers including Steph and Duke - Cass was already watching.

Duke is horrified - your face is purple-ish red! You're scratching at your neck like an animal and your friends are freaking out so much that you'd think you were turning into some kind of monster!

Steph is shocked - when did you get there?! Also, whats happening? She doesn't think and just immediately gets her phone out and films it, she knows she should call an ambulance but this could help in the future! Plus, surely someone else had called paramedics.

Cass' eyes are widened in shock, and she feels frozen in place. Her instincts want to kick in, having been skilled in quick response. But she doesn't do anything but stare. Should she do something? Yes. Will she continue to be a bystander? Also yes.

Eventually Duke has enough of people just standing around and watching you have a severe allergic reaction - or atleast, that's what he guesses it is. He steps up to you and gently grabs your arm and pulls you outside. Your friends stay behind to clean up any mess - even though they desperately wanted to follow you and Duke.

An ambulance arrives and Duke sits in the back with you. You're freaking out, he supposes it's due to the allergic reaction. He's only a third right.

In actuality you're freaking out due to the hospital bill - and by extension your parents - as well as the fact that DUKE THOMAS is in the back of an ambulance with you.

Why? You have no clue. Your spidey senses don't go off but you're still scared, you hate the whole Wayne clan with your whole heart. After the issue with Dick today the last thing you need is to be in the back of an ambulance with Duke.

Yet, as your vision fades the last thing you see is Duke's worried face.

~

Taglist (can be finicky, sorry!)

@rissareader @delias-stuff @hogwarts9 @marsmabe @randomlyappearingartist @coralaura @nervousalpacalady @citrushalo @chericia @soriansick @v0idl1nq @scrumdidiliyumyum @kittykatcreatster @feral-childs-word @anon34570 @shycreatorreview @sunny-sp3lls @fluffypackofships @cynniee @yuyuzi-ling @coffeeaddictxd @starryperson @readermommy @niggrrooo @bunbunboysworld @yanrandom @fluffypackofchips @vanilliona @wizzerreblogs

[willowsnook]

miscommunication

can I get a salami and lettuce wrap please? tyyyyy <3

oscar piastri x coworker!reader

she isn’t you

—————————————————-

“I just don’t understand why we’re making a switch so late in the season,” you complained to Lando as you walked through the halls of MTC with him.

“It’s because I’m a handful,” he said cheerfully and you rolled your eyes. “I’m trying not to be insulted right now by you, but you’re making it hard.”

Snorting, you looked over at him. You both had just been informed that, effective immediately, you would be his PR manager moving forward, and Oscar would be getting someone new.

“You know I don’t mean it like that,” you argued. “We spend so much time together anyways.”

“Oh, I know. You’re just upset you don’t get to be around your crush,” he said, and you stopped him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I do not have a crush on him,” you said, eyes narrowed. “We are just friends.”

Lando smirked and you knew he had you. Okay, so maybe you had a little crush on Oscar, but who could blame you? He was attentive, kind, and very easy on the eyes.

“Uh huhh,” he drawled. “Please, I think everyone is happy now that we don’t have to watch the two of you obliviously flirt with each other anymore.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, following him into the cafeteria. You spotted Oscar sitting at a table with an unfamiliar girl, listening intently to whatever she was saying.

You and Lando made your way over there, sitting down at the table.

“Hey guys,” Oscar said. “This is my new PR manager, Stacy.”

You introduced yourself before subtly sizing her up. She looked like she was a couple of years older than you but was very pretty, which irritated you. To make it worse, she had an Australian accent.

“Are you from Australia?” Lando asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, not too far from where Oscar is from,” she replied.

You felt a twinge of jealousy as Oscar's eyes lit up at the mention of his home country. He and Stacy immediately launched into a conversation about their shared experiences growing up in Australia, laughing at inside jokes you couldn't understand.

Lando caught your eye and raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing your discomfort. You forced a smile and tried to focus on your lunch, but couldn't help glancing up at Oscar and Stacy every few seconds.

"So, how long have you been in PR?" you asked Stacy, trying to join the conversation.

"Oh, about five years now," she replied with a dazzling smile. "I've worked with a few different teams, but I'm really excited to be with McLaren. And of course, to work with Oscar."

She shot him a playful look, and he grinned back at her. Your stomach churned at the interaction and you stood up quickly, everyone looking at you in surprise.

“I just remembered that I have a meeting soon; I’ll catch you guys later,” you got out, and Lando shook his head in embarrassment for you.

—————————————————-

Lando actually was a handful to manage PR-wise, so your days were a little busier than they had been. You and Oscar hadn’t really talked much in the past couple of weeks, mostly because of how busy you were, and you were kind of avoiding him. It seems like every time you saw him, he was talking to Stacy and if you watched him smile at her one more time, you might die.

You had never been the jealous type, so these feelings were very confusing. You guys weren’t even dating, for God's sake.

It was after the sprint race in Brazil that you ran into Oscar as you had stepped out to see how bad it was raining.

“Hey, you looked good today,” you said and he smiled down at you.

“Thanks,” he replied. “I haven’t gotten to talk to you in a while.”

“Oh I know, I’ve been busy with Lando,” you said and he frowned.

“You two seem to be getting close,” he commented and you shrugged, turning back to watch the rain.

“He’s a handful.”

Oscar chuckled softly, leaning against the wall next to you. "Yeah, he can be. But he's a good guy."

You nodded, feeling the tension between you two. The silence stretched on, broken only by the patter of rain. You wanted to say something, anything, to break the awkwardness, but your mind was blank.

"So, how are you liking working with Lando?" Oscar finally asked, his voice careful.

You shrugged again. "It's fine. Different from working with you, of course."

"Different how?" he pressed, and you could feel his eyes on you.

"Just... different," you said lamely, not wanting to admit how much you missed working with him. "How's it going with Stacy?"

Oscar was quiet for a moment. "It's good. She's very professional."

"That's good," you replied, fiddling with your hands.

“I think they might move qualifying to tomorrow,” he said, and you nodded in agreement, seeing that the rain would not let up. Maybe we could grab something to eat when we get back to the hotel?”

“Yeah that sounds good, I’ll ask Lando if he wants to join, Stacy can come as well,” you said and his brows furrowed.

“Uhh-yeah, okay,” he said. You were too busy in your own head to hear the frustrated sigh he let out.

Dinner was torture for you as you watched Stacy shamelessly flirt with Oscar and you laid your head on Lando’s shoulder while watching the show. After that, you could tell something was irritating Oscar because anytime Lando said something, he either didn’t respond, glared at him, or gave a short reply. After paying the bill, you walked back with Lando, thinking about the night.

“What’d you do to piss him off?” You asked and Lando gave you an amused look.

“You didn’t notice the pattern?” He asked and your face scrunched up in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“He was perfectly fine until you leaned into me and then it was like a switch went off,” he said.

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” you muttered, not wanting to acknowledge any truth to that. “He was flirting with her all night, I don’t know why he would have cared.”

“She was flirting,” Lando corrected and you waved him off. “You drive me insane.”

“Likewise buddy.”

————————————————————————

Brazil on Sunday was a disaster, and Lando’s comments to the media that followed sent you into a spiral. You worked on a clarification statement for the rest of the night, and by the time it hit 10 p.m., you were exhausted. Finally, making it back to the hotel, you saw Oscar playing on his phone while waiting in the lobby.

“What are you still doing up?” You asked, moving to sit next to him on the couch.

“Waiting for you,” he said. “I knew you were going to be there late so I just put in a food order.”

Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to do that," you said softly.

Oscar shrugged, a small smile on his face. "I wanted to. It's been a rough day for everyone."

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion settle into your bones. "That's an understatement."

Just then, the hotel staff brought over a tray with covered dishes. Oscar thanked them and turned to you. "I hope you're hungry. I got us some pasta and garlic bread."

The smell of the food made your stomach growl, reminding you that you hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Starving, actually. Thank you, Oscar."

You both dug into the meal, eating in comfortable silence for a few minutes. It felt nice to just be with him, no distractions or other people around.

"So," Oscar said after a while, "how’s Lando?”

“Disaster,” you said sadly. “I called Max earlier to talk to him, I’m not sure what to do. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Me either,” Oscar said thoughtfully. “He beats himself up way too much.”

“I agree,” you said. “How do you do it?”

“I know what’s in my control and what’s not,” he said and you nodded along. “And I also use the people around me to lean on.”

At the last part, he looked deep into your eyes, and you blushed, looking down at your food.

“I’ve been avoiding you,” you blurted out and he looked at you in surprise.

“I know,” he said, waiting for you to continue.

“I don’t like seeing her with you,” you admitted, looking anywhere else.

“She’s my PR manager,” he said confused. “Are you jealous?”

You didn’t respond to that and the corners of Oscar’s mouth lifted slightly.

“You of all people know that I have to spend time with her,” he pressed, not realizing the real root of your jealousy.

“Of course I know that,” you snapped, frustrated. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it. I miss getting to hang out with you.”

“She isn’t you,” he said, reaching out for your hand. “We have a good relationship, but it’s not like ours. I’m still here.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat at his words and the gentle touch of his hand on yours. For a moment, you just stared at your intertwined fingers, trying to process what was happening.

You felt a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "I've been so stupid," you said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I let my jealousy get the best of me and I pushed you away."

"Hey, it's okay," Oscar said, squeezing your hand. "I probably should have made time for you sooner.”

“You’re my best friend Oscar,” you said, pussying out of confessing, and for a second, a deflated look flashed on his face before he recovered.

“You’re mine too,” he said with a forced smile.

——————————————————-

Back at MTC, you were in a good mood. Having seen Lando in the morning, you felt reassured that he was good. You stepped outside to take a walk after lunch when you overheard two voices from around the corner.

“You know what I still don’t understand?” You heard Stacy ask someone.

“What?” You heard the voice of the office administrator respond.

“He requested that she be moved from being his PR manager. I was originally supposed to come on as Lando’s but Oscar asked the team to switch it.”

Your blood froze as you eavesdropped, a million emotions running through your head. He didn’t want you to be his PR manager anymore? Betrayal washed over you and you felt tears fill your eyes. Subconsciously, your feet led you to keep walking to the parking lot and your car. When you shut the door, everything broke loose, and you rested your arms and head against the steering wheel as you cried.

God you had been so stupid. How could you have been so stupid to even entertain the possibility that he felt the same way?

Lando saw you walking towards your car and followed, knowing that you both had to be in a meeting in ten minutes. He pulled open your passenger door, thinking he could scare you, but he was caught off guard when your tear-soaked face looked over at him.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” He asked, panicked, and that only made you cry harder. Leaning over the console, he grabbed your shaking body, pulling it into his chest. He rubbed your back as you cried into him, soon slowing down to only sniffles.

“He asked for me to switch to be your PR manager rather than continuing to be his,” you told Lando as you pulled out of his arms.

Lando gave you a confused look, “what do you mean?”

“I overheard Stacy telling someone that she was supposed to work with you, but Oscar wanted to make the switch,” you said, trying not to cry again.

“That can’t be true; he has just as big of a crush on you as you do on him.”

“Obviously not,” you laughed bitterly.

“But what about Brazil? He waited up for you.”

“Guilty conscience maybe,” you justified and Lando frowned. “I’m going home, will you tell everyone I just wasn’t feeling well?”

Lando nodded before squeezing your hand and leaving.

As he walked back into the building, he was on a mission. He had already texted someone that you and he were missing the meeting. Oscar was talking to a mechanic on the floor, and Lando walked quickly towards him.

“I need to talk to you,” he said coldly and Oscar was taken aback by his teammate's bluntness. The mechanic looked awkwardly between them before muttering that he had something to do and scurrying off.

“What’s up?” Oscar said.

“Did you request that y/n be moved to work with me?” He asked directly and Oscar’s eyes widened, caught way off guard.

“I did,” he said slowly. “How do you know that?”

“Y/n just told me,” Lando replied, crossing his arms. Oscar instantly paled, looking at Lando with disbelief.

“No,” he whispered softly. “How does she know that?”

“She overheard someone talking about it,” Lando told him, more gentle this time.

Oscar sunk into a nearby chair, putting his head in his hands.

“What did she say about it? y/n,” He asked quietly and Lando sighed, sitting next to him.

“It was hard to understand her because of how hard she was crying,” he murmured, and Oscar squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t understand why, though, I thought you liked her?”

“I do like her; that’s the problem,” he confessed, looking over at Lando. “I talked to HR, and they told me the only way I could pursue her would be if we didn’t work together directly.”

Lando’s eyes widened in realization and he laughed humorlessly.

“You are such an idiot,” he breathed out, amazed by Oscar’s stupidity. “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“I wanted to,” Oscar snapped. “But then it happened, and she was avoiding me, and then she basically friendzoned me in Brazil, so it was never a good time.”

“Oh my god mate, she’s been in love with you since forever,” Lando complained.

Oscar's head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What? No, that can't be right. She told me I was her best friend."

Lando groaned in frustration. "Because she was scared to tell you how she really felt! She's been jealous of Stacy this whole time, thinking you two were flirting."

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, looking stunned. "I had no idea. I thought she was getting closer to you and..."

"And you were jealous," Lando finished for him. "You two are both idiots."

"Where is she now?" Oscar asked urgently, standing up.

"She went home. She was pretty upset," Lando replied.

Without another word, Oscar took off running towards the parking lot. Lando called after him, "You better fix this, mate!"

Oscar's heart was racing as he sped towards your apartment. You had been lying in bed on top of your comforter for the past 20 minutes, staring at the ceiling. Someone knocked at your door, and you ignored it, but they wouldn’t stop. Flinging open the door, there was Oscar. His heart broke at the sight of you, swollen eyes but still a fire in them.

“You are the last person I want to fucking see right now,” you seethed, and he flinched back. It would be easy for him to turn around and leave and have you hate him for the rest of your life. But he was done wasting time.

He pushed past you, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the living room, forcing you to sit on the couch in front of him. You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for him to speak.

“I asked for you to be removed as my PR manager,” he stated.

“I know.” You replied sourly.

“I was told that it was the only option to continue down the path I was on,” he said, and your anger faded into confusion.

"What path?" you asked, your brow furrowed..

Oscar took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair nervously. "The path where I could pursue you romantically without it being a conflict of interest."

Your eyes widened in shock, your arms falling to your sides. "What?"

"I've had feelings for you for a long time," Oscar admitted, his voice soft. "But I couldn't act on them while you were my PR manager. So I requested the switch."

You sat there, stunned into silence. Your mind was racing, trying to process this new information.

"But... Stacy..." you started, still struggling to understand.

Oscar shook his head. "There's nothing between me and Stacy. She's just my PR manager, I told you that. You're the one I want to be with."

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You asked softly. He sighed, moving to sit next to you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He countered and your face flushed.

“Fucking Lando,” you muttered. “You’re like a robot Oscar, how was I supposed to know you felt the same way?”

He considered this for a moment before reaching over to grab you and pull you into his lap. Your head settled in the crook of his neck as you relaxed.

"I'm sorry," Oscar murmured, his breath tickling your ear. "I should have been more open with you. I was just so scared of ruining our friendship if you didn't feel the same way."

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. "I've been in love with you for so long, Oscar. I thought you could never see me as more than a friend or coworker."

His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking your skin. "I see you as everything, Y/N. You're my best friend, my confidant, the person I want to share all my successes and failures with. And now, I hope, something more."

Your heart was pounding as you leaned in closer, your noses almost touching. "Something more sounds perfect," you whispered.

Oscar closed the distance between you, pressing his lips softly against yours.

[the-thing-withfeathers]

the archer’s arrow part 1 (w.a.)

something’s wrong

next part

a/n: heyy my loves. as some of you know, i have no wifi for a little bit cause yup dorm life. i managed to recover this from my offline files. i’d love to hear what you all think of it <3

pairing: wednesday addams x female reader

warnings: cursing, mean!wednesday, rejection. extremely not proofread.

➶ ➶ ➶

she had rejected you then, you remember it clear as day.

it was a good day. the perfect day.

you had been hyping yourself up to do it. yoko & enid gave you extra encouragement. they were so positive that she would say yes.

“addams!” you called out after her, jogging while fumbling your bookbag on your shoulder. you held a black rose in your hand.

she spun around, her eyes glaring right into your soul. you nearly froze, coming to a stop directly in front of her. you always found her pretty, those cute braids had you reeling for ages. but once, you caught her with her hair down, you thought you might die.

it was an accident, of course. it was a night that enid hadn’t warned you to knock before coming in. you bursted in and there she was, her hair down as she changed into sleeping clothes.

you thought about it for days.

“what is it?” she said with a raised eyebrow.

sure, she scared the living hell out of you. but you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to get close to her.

the past few months have been a work-in-progress for you. you started out by joining her as she wrote while waiting for enid. you took a special interest in viper, making sure to always ask her about her progress. she hesitated to tell you initially, but then she started to tell you without you having to ask the question.

then you started to join her outside of her writing. at lunch, you sat next to her. in the library, there you were not even an inch away. she found herself asking you to join her on her escapades in the forest.

it felt nice dedicating time to the raven-haired girl. you thoroughly enjoyed her company— and you were sure she enjoyed yours too.

“i was wondering if… if maybe…” you stuttered out, handing the rose to her.

“spit it out.” she said. you sensed that she was particularly mean today. but that was how she was most of the time.

“if maybe you wanted to go out sometime?” you asked, a sheepish smile on your face.

wednesday furrowed her eyebrows at you, distaste clear on her face.

“what? no.” she spat out and shook her head. “what makes you think i want that?”

your eyes went wide, shocked at her response. you knew wednesday wasn’t particularly kind— you don’t know why you thought she would let you down gently.

“i don’t have any form of interest in you.” she hissed. “did you think because we spent not even a fraction of time together that i liked you?”

‘the worst she could say is no!’ enid said. nope. this was significantly worse.

“no… i…” you tried to say something, anything. but you were completely stunned silent.

wednesday grabbed the rose from your hand, snapping the stem in half and tossing it towards your chest. your hand flew towards it, catching it. it was the perfect metaphor for your heart shattering.

“wednesday…” you managed to get out, whispering the girl’s name.

“what?” she made an annoyed face at you.

“is… is something wrong?” you asked, your voice almost pleading. you had a weird feeling in your stomach, like something definitely wasn’t right.

“what’s wrong is that you’re bothering me. get lost.” her voice sounded so hateful. you’d never heard so much venom from her before.

she spun back around and simply walked off.

you stood there, shocked. that was the first time you’d ever confessed your feelings for someone. you felt like you could throw up from how harsh her rejection was.

you ran off to tell enid and yoko about it, you were close to tears.

“she hates me!” you sobbed out. “i thought we were friends but she just hates me!”

“she doesn’t hate you, darling.” yoko said, rubbing your back.

“i will have words with her!” enid growled softly. your breathing started to stabilize.

“don’t, enid. it’s fine. it’s not worth it.” you stopped her. you didn’t want to piss wednesday off more.

“it’s just not worth it.”

the next few weeks were absolute hell on earth. you didn’t realise how much influence wednesday actually had until you found yourself sitting alone again at lunch. the library no longer was the hub for studying for your friends, they would gather in their own rooms. your only socialization came from the archery club.

enid was your last link to that group. yoko started to get busy with her own confession to divina being successful. even then, she would come to your room instead of you going over there.

as for wednesday, you only saw her five more times aside from class before you left nevermore.

one. with eugene.

you sometimes interacted with him when it came to the hummers. you came from a family of hunters, it was how your archery skills were so good. he’d often ask for your assistance in collecting herbs from the forest. when you came in with a bag of fresh herbs, you spotted wednesday in the corner of the tent. she was using a mortar and pestel, presumably related to why they needed the herbs.

“wednesday, can you grab those please?” eugene said, his hands busy with the bee hive. wednesday turned to look at you, her jaw tightened. you guessed that she wouldn’t like seeing you.

you held out the little bag, her hand hovering under it. you dropped it into her hand and flashed a thin smile at her. she simply turned around and went back to her work. she tossed the small bag to the side, like it was radioactive.

“see ya, eugene.” you quickly made your way out of the tent.

two. at your archery tournament.

you were practicing especially hard for this tournament. it was an inter-school competition and you would be going against so many other students.

you were nervous, more than nervous.

you prepared to enter the competition grounds where you would be introduced. as the lights shone on the entryway, you jogged out, waving at the audience. your family was there somewhere, as were some of your newfound friends. you asked enid if she wanted to come but her answer was unsure.

you took your place at one of the arranged shooting aisles, squinting to see if you could find your family.

as you spotted them, you also spotted a blonde girl with colourful streaks sitting next to them. you waved in their general direction but towards enid specifically.

your wave faltered as you also noticed a shorter, darker-haired girl next to her.

addams?

you thought for a second then realised. of course, she would be here for xavier. you heard they were getting closer recently.

your body language changed, you were suddenly scared again. it was like nothing had changed.

you shot your little heart out the entire tournament. you were a force of nature. the fear turned into determination. you pictured wednesday addam’s face right on the damn bullseye.

“first place goes to…” the man on the stage said into his mic.

and then the world slowed down for you, the noise was drowned out.

the next thing you felt was your entire team’s arms around you, cheers erupting from their mouths.

you won. first fucking place.

three. at weem’s office.

you had gotten called over the loudspeaker that there was a message waiting for you at the princpal’s office.

safe to say that you were quite worried about it. you didn’t know what to expect. you were a good kid, you never got into trouble. maybe you did something you didn’t even know was against the rules.

you made your way down the long hallway from class, picking at your fingernails.

she was walking out as you were walking in.

you turned the corner and accidentally bumped into her, colliding with her smaller figure.

you grabbed her waist to steady her then quickly stumbled backwards, trying to take your hands off her as fast as possible.

“sorry, didn’t mean to.” you raised both your hands in defense.

“whatever.” she muttered, walking past you.

principal weems grabbed a letter out from a drawer in her desk.

“here, darling.” she handed you the envelope. you recognized the seal with ease.

a smile creeped up your face as you tore open the envelope, gripping the letter so hard that your knuckles turned while.

you turned to weems and nodded once, your eyes crinkling from happiness.

“congratulations, sweetheart.”

four. in the forest.

she didn’t see you, you were in the trees. you were practicing your stealth for when you went back home to visit your family. with the killing of animals not permitted in the forests, you knew your family was going to tease you for not being in shape. you were perched on a branch that was directly beside her. she had sat down to read a book.

she was probably one of the only people brave enough to casually spent hours in the forest. you held onto the branch above you as your eyes were trained on her. you loved how cute she looked when she was focused on something. you watched as her eyes trailed over the words. she looked particularly stressed, like she was forcing herself to read.

you worried for her despite all she said to you on that day. you still cared for her, so you showed concern as you noticed her throw the book off to the side in frustration. you jumped down as she stood up abruptly.

“wednesday.” you called out. normally, people would flinch. but not her.

“god, can’t seem to get rid of you.” she groaned.

“something’s wrong.” you stated, “what’s wrong, wednesday?”

“can’t you just leave it alone?!” she screamed at you, her hands flailing in the air. “you don’t have to be so good all the time! sometimes things are better without you around!” she stormed off, bumping your shoulder as she made her way out of the forest.

you turned around to watch her, tears brimming in your eyes. you should have known better.

five. the day you left.

you had come into enid & wednesday’s shared room to collect a quiver you left there for enid to bedazzle. she wanted to do it so you wouldn’t forget her— and to say good luck.

enid was busy getting final preparations for your goodbye so she sent you there alone.

you knocked three times before realising the door was open. you poked your head in only to see wednesday holding the quiver.

“sorry, that’s mine.” you stepped inside, moving closer to her.

“i know. enid’s archery game is questionable at best.” wednesday scoffed, turning around to look at you. she pushed the quiver against your chest. “heard you were leaving. got poached by that elite archer school.”

“yeah… i’m just grabbing this then going.” you shook the quiver as a gesture.

“good. at least we can finally get some peace around here.” she said, sharply turning and walking to her balcony. “nevermore is better without you.” she followed up as she opened the door formed in the glass window.

“bye, wednesday.” you called out loud enough for her to hear. she froze in place and just sneered, walking out.

you sighed softly and exited her room. you left ophelia hall, turning back only once to whisper a faint goodbye.

as your final luggages were being lifted into the car, you received hugs from your friends. some gifts, some cheek kisses.

and as you departed, you swear you could hear the faint noise of a cello.

and now you were back.

you were back and better than ever.

you decided to finish your senior year at nevermore, wanting to be one with your people again.

you thrived at the archery academy, you grew stronger and sharper. your skills were as enhanced as ever. but you were ready to come home to your roots.

you held your head high as you walked into weem’s office once again. she sent you a message to meet her at her office on your first day back.

you knocked on her door three times and heard a “come in!”.

you cracked the door open slowly, she stood from her desk with open arms as she saw you.

“welcome back!” she beamed at you, you jogged towards her for a hug. “look at you. you’ve grown!”

she was right, you had grown since she last saw you. your constant physical activity allowed for a growth spurt.

“i can’t believe you’re back.” she said, comical disbelief in her voice.

“neither. but the academy was full of normies, i missed the solidarity i had here.” you nodded, “and i heard the archery team has made improvements.”

“yes, it has. including introducing the team captain— which i would like you to be.” weems said, her warm smile always made you feel comfort.

“i would love to. i’m excited to get started.” you clasped your hands together.

“good! well… i’ll let you get back to moving in. you’ll have your old room at ophelia hall again, enid is waiting to welcome you.”

you expected nothing less.

as you reached the front of ophelia hall with all your belongings, enid ran straight into you, enveloping you in her arms.

“enid!” you exclaimed as you dropped your duffel bags to hug her back. “you nearly toppled me!”

“i’m sorry! i just got too excited!” she pulled away and grabbed your bags on the floor. “c’mon!” she said, excitedly.

“enid! slow down!” you called after your bubbly friend, she was running way too fast for you to keep up. curse her werewolf energy.

you managed to catch up eventually, but then enid was already on the way back down to grab the rest of your things. you figured she could handle it by herself if she kept going like this. you sat on your bed, the other bed was empty as your old roommate had graduated.

you heard your door open again, scoffing at the noise.

“jesus enid, you work fast as h—“ not enid.

wednesday. wednesday addams.

“wednesday.” you breathed out softly. she had grown too. her braids had gotten significantly longer, she grew into her face more. she clenched her jaw at you— did she really still hate you after all this time?

“so enid was telling the truth, you are back.” she huffed softly. “you shouldn’t have.”

you rolled your eyes at her. “i’m done with this, wednesday.” you waved a hand at her in dismissal. “you can’t seriously still hate me.”

“no. i’m serious. you shouldn’t have come back.” it was almost like she was warning you. she was staring at you like she hoped you weren’t real. you could tell that there was something bigger she wanted to tell you.

“what? wednesday…” your face scrunched in confusion. it was cut off by enid entering your room, dropping three duffel bags on your floor.

“all done!” she dusted her hands together.

“thanks, enid.” you chuckled. “honestly, it looked like lightwork to you. did you get much stronger after wolfing out then?”

“hell yeah!” enid flexed her arms as a joke. “you better believe it!”

the two of you laughed, your arms crossing over your chest.

wednesday was starting to get annoyed, was she just not in your line of sight? there was a time that she was all you saw, but now it’s like she was just a dust speck.

she had to make you understand. she was about to speak again until enid interrupted.

“okay wends, we better let her unpack.” enid spoke up, grabbing wednesday’s shoulders and turning her around.

you waved to the both of them.

as you sat back down on your bed, you couldn’t get wednesday’s warning out of your head.

did wednesday know something that you didn’t? was there a reason she was being so mean to you?

you shook your thoughts away, opting to rest your eyes. you slept all your worries away, instead looking forward to your second nevermore journey.

➶ ➶ ➶

wednesday didn’t think you would be back— ever.

she thought her efforts were good enough to keep you away. she was wrong, she should have tried harder to make your life at nevermore a nightmare.

“hey wends?” enid asked her from across the room. “how are you feeling about her being back, really?”

“it’s horrific. this is one of those days that bring me dread— and i mean these words literally.” she said, pacing back and forth. “i normally enjoy dread— just not today.”

“you harbor way too much hate for her. she’s never done anything to you!” enid put her phone down on the bedside in frustration. “is this all because she asked you out?!” enid couldn’t believe it.

“yes.” wednesday said, lying through her teeth.

“seriously?” enid rubbed her fingers over her eyes, growing more annoyed with her roommate.

“yes. i’m serious.” wednesday responded, sitting down on her bed. “i have to get her out of here again.”

“wednesday friday addams!” enid stood, wednesday’s eyes showed some form fear for the first time in a long time. she didn’t enjoy when enid was like this. “you will do no such thing! she’s back because she wanted to be around people like her! you don’t get to make her an outcast in a school for outcasts!” enid’s claws unleashed themselves, a sign of her geniune anger.

wednesday sighed in defeat, her eyes closing, a sign that she needed to think.

enid grumbled before returning to her phone usage. wednesday was acting strange— stranger. and enid had no idea how to help.

➶ ➶ ➶

wednesday stepped onto the grass, her eyes narrowing at the subject in front of her.

the muscles in your back tensed as you drew your bow. you were focused on a target a few meters away from you. you exhaled slowly.

“hello.” she spoke.

“fuck!” you jumped. the arrow flying straight past the target. “addams! jesus…” you held a hand over your heart. “what’re you doing here?”

“came to watch you practice.” she said, firmly. you were taken aback by her answer.

“watch… me… practice?” you repeated back to her in a question.

“yes. i want to write a study about archery.” she came up with a lie to make it more convincing.

“oh… okay?” you tilted your head at her. “what’s the catch? come to stab me with an arrow maybe?” you prodded a bit more.

“no. i just want to have a better idea of the sport.” she shrugged.

“wednesday, you’re an archer too. you’ve done this well enough.” you pulled an arrow from your quiver, lining it up with the bow.

“i know. but i haven’t done it in a while.” she took a seat directly behind you. it was weird to have her just staring straight at you. you shot another arrow and hit the bullseye.

“your form has gotten better.” she commented. you turned your head only slightly.

“after two years of rigorous training, i sure as hell hope so.” you bent down to grab your water bottle, taking a swig of it.

“you should have stayed with it.” wednesday stared up at you, “i don’t know why you’re throwing it all away to come back here.”

you sighed as you drew your bow again, “sometimes normies are just… they don’t get it. they just don’t.” you shot another arrow, hitting the red.

“i suppose. but you’ve never had a problem with normies. you blend in well.”

“okay, wednesday. look…” you turned to her, setting your bow down. “i’ll let you watch me practice if you stop asking me about why i came back, okay?”

“fine.” she begrudgingly agreed.

you turned back to the target, concluding the rest of your practice. you packed away quickly seeing as wednesday helped. she knew her way around the equipment so you were more than happy to accept her help.

“thank you, addams.” you smiled at her as you two got everything packed away. she remained silent.

“when do you practice next?” she questioned you, almost like an interrogation.

“tomorrow at 6pm. i practice in the forest.”

her breath hitched in her throat and you squinted at her.

“don’t you have other places to practice?” she asked and you were left wondering why she didn’t want to go to the forest. she was normally comfortable there.

“i like the forest. it’s better to be in the environment. i get to practice against wind more as well.” you clarified.

“fine. okay. i’ll be there.” she crossed her arms and started to walk away.

she amused you everyday, this one. no wonder you were so drawn to her.

however, over the two years you’d been away, you knew not to let yourself be vulnerable to people who would just hurt you.

and in doing so, you closed your heart to wednesday addams.

➶ ➶ ➶

author’s journal

heyyy pookie nation!!! this is gonna be a little three?? parter that i’ve put together quickly in this internet outage. it’s the only thing i’ve got saved offline so we’ll have to work with what we have right now. i’ve been wanting to write something proper for wednesday so i hope you guys enjoy this 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

i hope to put more stuff out asap <33

kisses xx

[dollfacefantasy]

ROLE REVERSAL ♡

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon finds his old raccoon city uniform. instead of letting the past haunt him, he dresses you in it. it looks much prettier that way.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, officer/criminal roleplay, handcuffs

a/n: for my leon babies, i hope you all enjoy <3

kinktober slot: day 5 - roleplay

The points of your heels click against the hardwood slats on the floor of the bedroom. Thin and elegant, the tips slick and triangular. Your boyfriend watches you waltz into the room from his spot on your shared bed. The sharp post at the center of the head board supported his hands, bound by a shiny pair of silver handcuffs.

"You're in a lot of trouble, Mr. Kennedy. Do you know why you're here today?" your voice asks, floating through the room in a seductive melody.

His eyes flit up and down over your figure. Your curves were clad in his police uniform. The spare one that hadn't seen the blood and guts of September 30th, 1998. The pale blue fabric remained pristine and bright. The golden badge on your breast glimmered as if Leon actually got to put it to good use. 

But he didn't have to think about that right now. Didn't have to remember how his life's dream had withered away with everything else in the nuclear blast. Instead he could look at you. How the cerulean polyester fits snug around your waist and chest. How you had the fabric tied into a little knot above your navel. How the pair of navy blue lace panties you had on below set off the light shade above perfectly.

A low whistle leaves his lips.

"No, sweetheart. But I gotta say, you look better in that old thing than I ever did," he responds.

A smile comes over your painted lips, but you still roll your eyes and stamp your heel.

"Leon!" you huff, "You agreed to do this, so you have to stay in character. That's not how you talk to an officer of the law."

"Oh, you're right. My mistake, officer," he says with a smirk. He clears his throat as if getting into character. "No. Not a clue."

That pleases you, and you continue walking towards the edge of the bed, your hips swaying with each step. A hair brush taps one of your palms. Your version of a night stick if he had to guess.

"I don't believe you. You've been a very bad boy. Committed a long list of crimes that should have you locked up for the next couple decades," you say.

As he watches your performance, he can't help but find you so cute. The way you speak, your attempt at taking control, is an obvious imitation of his cadence in intimate moments.

"Have I really?" he asks, eyes lazily drifting up to your face.

"Yep. But maybe, just maybe, if you give me some information about the people who put you up to it, we can make a deal."

"I'm not telling you a thing without my lawyer here," he says.

As cocky as he acted, Leon was already nude before you on the mattress. His pale skin almost glows in the dim orangey light of your bedroom. Scars trail across his abdomen that had become a little softer in the last several months. Brown hair dusts the skin of his tummy down to the collection of it curling above the base of his cock. His pretty cock, half-hard between his legs, just waiting for your attention.

You take advantage of his condition by ghosting the bristles of the brush over his v-line. The sensation tickles slightly. His hips twitch, and you see his dick jump at the faint touch to the sensitive area. 

"Why not? You can trust me, Mr. Kennedy. I just want to wrap this up as quickly as possible."

The broad end of your tool coasts over his stomach now, going up to his chest to tease his nipples before you swing it back down to the lower half of him. His heart beat picks up, and his blood starts flowing down south. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his length begin to stiffen.

"I'm not stupid," he says, his tone audibly huskier, "You never talk to the police without a lawyer."

Bringing your knee onto the edge of the foamy mattress, you boost yourself to kneel next to his immobile form.

"Normally I'd agree with you. But I'm different," you say. You come closer and swing your leg over his body so that you're straddling his lap, hovering above his cock. "Even though I believe you're guilty as sin, I want to help you."

His chest vibrates with the urge to groan at the feeling of your clothed heat so close to his aching shaft. "Why's that?" he chokes out instead.

"Because look at you. You're much more useful to me out here than behind bars," you say, reaching down behind and fondling his balls. The groan he held in before oozes from his mouth at the feeling. His cock kicks up now, resting against your center. You adjust to position the appendage between your legs. The cute pink tip stares up at you from where it peeks out of the junction between your thighs.

"That doesn't sound very professional, officer," he says. He has to remember that his hands are fastened above him because your hips call to him. The urge to squeeze them, to knead the flesh and smack your ass, boils in his chest.

You feel your clit starting to throb for his touch as well. The look in his eyes, the way his lips had parted to accommodate his breathing had you growing more and more damp by the moment.

"That, I never claimed to be," you say. 

You slide your hand down over your body, taking time to highlight the presence of his dated uniform. Your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties. A shuddery breath leaves your lungs as your fingertip slots between your folds and finds your needy bud.

Your digit glides through the small amount of arousal, beckoning more to coat your cunt. He watches with lust-blown eyes, the surface beginning to glaze with desire. You whimper, the sound so soft and delicate it makes him buck upwards.

"Patience. You don't get rewarded for insulting me," you say and lift yourself away from him.

"Oh c'mon, baby," he grunts, "Gimme a break. I didn't insult you."

"Nope. I won't help you out unless you ask me properly," you say, grinning at the prospect of him groveling.

You play with your clit a little more, chest puffing within the confines of his top. You tilt your head back, and your spine arches with the dull pleasure you're providing yourself.

"Fuck..." he breathes, "Please, officer."

"Please what?"

"Please touch me."

The words come out laced with an intoxicating note of desperation. Your head returns to an upright position, your eyes blazing onto him.

"That's better," you purr.

By this point, you'd worked yourself up enough that the cloth guarding your cunt was soaked, sticky and clinging to your center. You spread your legs and lower to press yourself against him. He moans when your warmth makes contact.

You begin moving back and forth in tiny strokes. He whines and tugs on his restraints. The feeling of the fabric against him burns in the best way. A whine comes from you too as the bump of his tip strikes your bundle of nerves.

"Such a pretty, obedient boy. I bet I can whip you back into a functioning member of society in no time."

Grinding down with more pressure, a symphony of blissed out noises erupt from the two of you. Your palms rest on his belly to support yourself while your hips do all the work. Forward, backward, forward, backward. Like a pendulum you swipe over him in rapid succession.

Humping feels good. It always does. But after a while more, you crave a deeper sense of satisfaction.

You pull your panties to the side and grab his leaky cock. It had been drooling precum onto his pelvis, but now, it was going to be tucked inside you. You rise up and then sink back down, eliciting a mewl from yourself and another deep groan from your lover.

"See what happens when you behave and follow the rules?" you whimper.

"Uh huh. Think I'll be a much better citizen after this," he mutters.

You start to bounce, moving up and down on his shaft. The ridges of his veins rub against your insides. A chill runs up your spine. Bumps prickle up over your skin despite its heated nature. Your skin claps against his while pants puff from nostrils.

He's not keeping it together under you much better. He'd already been pretty close from the stimulation you'd given prior to this. Being engulfed in your tight cunt's wet embrace didn't stave off release at all. His heels dig into the mattress and allow him to reciprocate your movements, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"Fuck!" you yelp when he strikes your spot. You ride faster, getting lost in the pleasure. It's getting too hot now, so you tug the police shirt off your body, your breasts swinging free. The cool air brings some relief, and you toss the garment to the floor without another thought.

"Gonna cum for me, babydoll?" you ask Leon, the playful pet name you call him resurfacing. The commitment to the roleplay had vanished with the disrobing of the costume.

"Mhm, almost there, sugar," he grunts.

You squeeze around him, pulsing as your hips swivel and roll. You feel yourself getting there too. Release explodes in you like a firework, bursting in the pit of your belly and fizzling outwards to everywhere else. Your movements become erratic and rhythmless, but you continue on.

Leon can't take the pressure your orgasm brings. You clenching around him is too much to bear and he blows his load inside you, filling you up with his cum. You work it out of him with a few more fluid movements.

As soon as the wave has passed and receded, you fall forward onto his chest. You don't pull off him or let him leave your insides. All you do is nuzzle his dewy skin and smack a few wet kisses onto the area.

"You did pretty good," he rasps, the look on his face ever-teasing, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a professional."

"Oh shut up. You were into it," you huff and smile up at him.

Now you do climb off his body, reaching the floor and stretching your limbs. The next thing you want to do is go take a shower with your man, but you realize something and look over at him.

"Oh shit. Where did I put the keys to the handcuffs?"

[evie-sturns]

ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: matts been so busy with his filming schedule, that when he comes home you're basically begging for his touch for almost an hour, he finally gives in.

contains: smut, fingering, needy reader, softdom!Matt, swearing, small argument, crying.

--------------------└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘----------———

matt and I have been dating for almost a year, and in the past few months, he's been so busy to the point where I've just been hanging out at his house during the day, today is one of those days. I've been touch-deprived bed rotting in Matt's room.

the front door unlocks with a bang from downstairs, i sit up in matts bed, the blankets slowly falling off my chest. "matt!?" i call out, rubbing my face.

"hey baby", matt says while walking into the room, his voice is low and croaky. he doesnt even look my way as he slumps down on his desk chair.

he throws on his headphones, instantly starting to edit the Wednesday video.

"for fucks sake." i groan quietly, throwing my head back down into the pillows.

"matt." i whine, he looks over his shoulder at me "mm?" he says, his long fingers resting on the keyboard.

"i need you.." i say, maintaining eye contact with him.

he nods, turning back around to his computer, starting to edit again.

its not even been 10 minutes before my mouth is opening again.

"matthew."

"sweetheart what is it."he says, pulling his headphones off and spinning his chair back around to face the bed.

i pout my lips, "please come here, you can edit tommorow."

"i told you it'll be a while, i know your upset but this is very important." he says in a tone that reminds me of my childhood, hes acting like my dad.

"so more important than me then hm?" i roll my eyes.

"don't be silly." he replies.

-

45 minutes later

11:29pm

i've been laying in matts sheet for almost an hour while hes been editing, hes stopped replying to me everytime i say his name now.

i let out a dramatic sigh, which of course matt pays no attention to.

"for fucks sake matt!" i raise my voice, sitting up in bed.

"what. literally what." he says, slamming his headphones down into the desk.

"look, should i even be here? should i even be with you? you've quite literally payed no attention to me for like 3 months?! am i just a fuck toy now or what."

his eyes widen "oh please." he scoffs in disbelief, he head shaking in shock.

i stay silent, i need to have a proper conversation with him for once.

he powers off his computer before standing up abrubtly. he almost stomps over to the bed before laying down next to me. "happy?" he asks, his voice monotone.

"no, im fucking not matt." i say, my voice breaking followed by a sob.

i see matts head snap round to look at me, his eyes squinting.

"are you crying- shit.. wait."

i hide my face in my hands while matt sits up, he lets out a shaky breath.

"oh fuck no please don't cry" he says, placing a hand on the side of my face. "look at me, look at me y/n." matt says sternly.

i slowly peel my hands away from my face, tears now streaming down my cheeks. matts face is painted with guilt and concern.

"sit up." he says, which i do.

he grabs both sides of my face

"i love you so fucking much, you know that." matt says softly, staring into my eyes.

i shake my head "i'm not sure i know that anymore." i sniff.

matts jaw drops slightly, a silence filling the room.

"no, no nope. please don't ever say that." he starts.

"i am insanely grateful for you, work has been piling up like crazy and i know, i know i haven't had time for other people but once i get my yesterday's problem launched everything will be calm."

i hear the front door open from downstairs, chris and nicks chatter getting louder as they walk upstairs, but matt doesn't even bat an eye as he keeps rambling on.

"you're my favorite person ever, and i know i've been a proper dick these past weeks, but tommorow i have a day off, and if you would want we could go out, or-.. just lay here the whole day i really dont mind."

i wipe my eyes, leaning foward and grabbing matts jaw, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

we both pull away to catch our breath "can i do anything for you right now? to make you feel better.." matt says gentley, playing with my hair.

i nod, "just one thing.."

he nods, "yeah?" he smiles sweetly at me.

"i don't wanna say itt.." i say, my cheeks turning red

he lets out a small laugh, “it can’t be that bad"

i grab his hand, rings decorating his pinky finger, his pointer and his thumb.

i push down all of his fingers execpt for two, the ring finger and middle finger.

matt nods understandingly “yeah?”

“yeah..” i say back.

“you’ve got to tell me with your words gorgeous.”

“i need your fingers.” i reply

“where do you need them?” he teases back.

“in.. me?”

“there you go.” matt says, a smile spread across his face.

i lay back down in the sheets, peeling my shirt off my body. matt lays down too, “can you lay on your side for me?” he says, which i do.

he turns onto his side aswell, grabbing my waist and pulling me towards his body, my bare back pressed against the soft fabric of his shirt covering his torso.

he spoons me as his hand, which is decorated in rings, snakes round to the waist band of my pyjama shorts.

i feel his chest rise and fall against my back as his hand slowly pulls down the shorts to my knees.

matt traces random shapes up the inside of my thigh, slowly getting towards where i need him most.

a pathetic moan escapes my mouth as the cold metal of his ring grazes past my hole.

i haven’t been touched in so long that the smallest touch is embarrassingly driving me crazy.

“please.” i groan out, earning a small chuckle from matt into the back of my hair.

i look down at matts hand, which is resting on my pelvic bone.

"matt please-" i start but he cuts me off "i know, can you be nice and quiet for me? chris and nick are across the hall."

i nod "yes- yeah" i instantly reply.

his two fingers dip down to my clit, he rubs it slowly, barely applying pressure.

his elbow rests on my hip as his fingers pick up the pace, i feel matts breaths from behind me as i reverse back into him more, my back and ass fully pressed against matts chest and crotch.

i feel one of his fingers push against my entrance before he presses fully inside of me, his long finger filling me up. "fuck.." i say softly.

the feeling from matt ive been craving all day is turning me into a moaning mess.

he quickly adds his second finger, curling both of them inside of me. i grip the bedsheets in front of me as he repeatedly hits my g-spot.

i slam a hand over my mouth as i feel the knot in my stomach build up.

the fact i have to be quiet is making this 10 times hotter due to the fact matt usually lets me be as loud as i need to be, which is always loud.

"god 'feel so good around my fingers." matt says, his voice hoarse from behind me.

that'll do it

the knot in my stomach snaps, my hand thats on my mouth falls down into the mattress, gripping the sheets, "fuck matt oh my god!" i scream out, clenching around his fingers.

i feel matts breaths hitch against my back, he instantly pulls his fingers out of me and covers my mouth. "shh, shush" he laughs slightly.

i catch my breath slowly as matts hands keep on my mouth.

i roll over onto my back, matts still laying on his side.

"gross" i smile, "oh shit- yeah." matt says, taking the hand which was just inside me off my mouth.

i cuddle up next to him "thank you" i whisper as i pull up the blankets.

"no- no thank you for forgiving me" he says, rubbing my arms softly.

my eyelids feel heavy, somehow tired after doing nothing all day. matts tense underneath me, i assume hes just mad at himself about earlier but then the realization hits me that hes just fingered me for a few minutes without getting anything back.

"matt" i say, sitting up and pulling the blankets down. "what?" matt says, running a hand through his hair.

i point to his sweatpants, that have a very obvious tent.

"you're hard! why didn't you tell me i could've helped?" i say, reaching for his waistband.

matt grabs my wrist, stopping me "no- no its okay, i don't want you to have to do anything for me after i've been shitty to you."

"thats gotta hurt matt cmon, its okay." i laugh slightly, resisting matts grip on my wrist.

"no, no go to sleep sweetheart it'll go away in like 5 minutes." he says with a smile, pulling the blanket back up over us and playing with my hair.

i sigh "are you sure, i dont mind helping-" he cuts me off "im sure, get some rest."

-

10 minutes later.

i sit up in bed after hearing the bathroom door slam shut. matts no longer next to me.

my eyebrows scrunch as i stand up out of bed, stumbling over to the bedroom door and opening it.

i walk down the corrider to nicks room, i open it to find him fast asleep with chris on their beanbag.

i shut their door, walking over to the bathroom door.

i slowly push it open to find matt standing over the toilet, his eyes shut and head thrown back as he repetedy runs his ringed hand up and down his length quickly.

"oh-"

matts eyes open and his head swings round to look at me "what are you doing!" he says, frantically pulling up his sweatpants.

"im sorry im sorry!" i say, slamming the bathroom door shut.

i hear the water run before matt walks out of the bathroom only a few seconds later, his cheeks are a deep red and he has small droplets of sweat on his forehead.

he smiles at me awkwardly but i instantly grab his shoulders and spin him round.

"matthew go finish up in there, you've been hard for almost half an hour."

"o-okay yep thank you." he replies instantly, speed-walking back into the bathroom eagerly, slamming the door shut behind him.

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