#i should go find my sad lamp

[harrowharkwife]

.

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited)² retired simon has nowhere to go, so you offer. [ one, two, three]

it took a lot of convincing to get him to your little apartment, like trying to move a massive brick wall with a feather. however, in the end, he gave in— not that he had much of a say in the matter, considering the fact that the two of you were already at your home amidst arguing (which, to be fair, was predominantly one-sided as he persistently uttered 'no' in response to all your counterarguments).

in all honesty, you couldn't quite figure out why you were so insistent on having a stranger, especially a strange man, stay with you in your much too tiny apartment. perhaps it was your festive december spirit, the idea of someone being alone during this time of year just didn't sit right with you. besides it was just for the night, then you could take him to the shelter.

he’d been quiet as you set up everything for him, he was imposing, tall, and somewhat scary (primarily due to his skull mask and his overall silent demeanor). but strangely enough, you didn't feel unsafe with him, despite the fact that you probably should have. after all, he was a man, and he undoubtedly outweighed you by at least 100 pounds. killing you and getting away with it would be easy for him. and, why the hell were you contemplating this now, instead of when you first picked him up from the side of the street?

perhaps it was the way he carried himself, with a sense of calm and control that was almost hypnotic. or maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to pierce through you, yet held a hint of sadness that made you feel a strange sense of empathy toward him. whatever the reason, you found yourself drawn to him.

as you finished setting up the couch, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, trying to decipher his thoughts and emotions. but his expression remained unreadable, his mask hiding any hint of vulnerability or emotion. it was both frustrating and intriguing, making you wonder what secrets lay hidden behind that skull mask.

“um, so the shower is just down the hall, oh! feel free to look through the fridge for something,” you smile awkwardly at the tall man and gesture to your room door, “if you need anything just let me know.” his gaze remains fixated upon the makeshift bed you have prepared, adorned with a spare comforter of a soft, faded hue resembling baby blue, adorned with delicate flowers which sprawls across the expanse of your pull-out sofa.

simon, ever the brooding man, says a small, stiff thank you; ready for you to leave him alone you're sure. wiping your sweaty palms on your denim-clad thighs, you gently press your lips together and affirmatively bob your head. “alright, well, goodnight simon.” without waiting for a response, that you were sure you weren't going to get, you scuttle off to your bedroom, swiftly closing the door and attempting to lock it as quietly as possible. however, the resounding click makes you think he’s heard it.

letting out a weary sigh you slide down your door, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone. with a gentle motion, you begin to skim through your contacts and find your best friend. it rings once, twice before she picks up with a tired hello.

“if i die tonight, i love you.”

you catch the faint sound of her perplexed murmur, followed by the gentle click of her bedside lamp over the phone. it was late, far too late for you to have disturbed her with a call, you knew that— should’ve called your sister or something.

“have you been drinking?”

you give a slight eye roll before curling your legs up to your chest. “no, not yet. anyways, i think i might've done something very dumb," you admit, trailing off as you nervously nibble on the inside of your cheek, feeling the soft flesh give way under your teeth. your friend lets out a quiet grunt. “well? spit it out.”

“so, i picked up a homeless guy on the side of the road and offered him a ride to the shelter but instead i brought him to my apartment and now he’s in my living room, about to sleep on my couch,” you utter quickly— and she's silent for a moment, it's a loud silence, one that makes your heart beat quickly in your chest. you run a hand down your face and take a deep breath, sighing heavily. “say something.” your voice is filled with a mix of impatience and anxiety.

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

[hxney-lemcn]

Friend's From Strange Places — Mr. Crawling x gn! reader

summery: walking home, you meet a strange entity that seems to claim you as a friend on sight.

tw: none.

a/n: had to give my two cents to the Homicipher fandom.

wc: 0.9k

Master List

Part One | Part Two

You felt like you were going crazy. You swear you saw something following you in the corner of your eye, but every time you turned to look there was no one. Sure, it was dark out which meant it was more likely that your brain was playing tricks on you and you were strangely paranoid at the moment, but you couldn’t get over the feeling that something was watching you. The hairs on the back of your neck were standing on end as you walked faster, the street lights glowing faintly in the night not doing much to comfort you. 

You tensed, a strange clicking noise causing your breathing to quicken along with your steps. You were basically running at this point, the sound of shuffling and more clicks picking up its pace in tandem with you. You would’ve felt silly, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins overrode any other thought you had. You needed to escape, you needed to hide, whatever was following you seemed otherworldly (if it was even real in the first place). 

Suddenly everything was silent. No crickets, no hum of the street lights, no cooing owls or passing cars. The only thing you could hear was your thrumming heart and your panting breaths. Every fiber in your being was telling you to not look back, but it seemed your body had a mind of its own as you slowly turned to look back. 

You let out a shriek, raising your hands to shield yourself from the entity. You only managed to catch a glimpse of long black hair and grey tinted skin, but it was enough to scare you as you hadn’t expected to see anything. You heard more clicking before the shuffling noise moved away from you. Taking deep breaths, you tried to get your shaking under control before peaking through your fingers. You nearly let out another shriek, but managed to keep it internal as your eyes met the entity that’s been following you on your walk home.

His hair was much longer than you originally thought, black locks reaching its feet. His hair obscured the upper half of his face, but you noticed the blotchy red splotches of skin that peaked through above his nose. Finally, he wore a pitch blank kimono that would’ve made him blend in with the night if it weren’t for the street lamps. A frown tugged at his lips, head lowered as he let out short clicks.  A ghost. You were seeing a real life ghost. You weren’t sure what to think. Was he going to kill you? Why hasn’t he already? Why did he look…sad? Was he…trying to communicate with you? You should run, you should find an exorcist, you should…do literally anything else than what you were going to do. Maybe the characters in horror movies weren’t as stupid as you thought…or maybe you shouldn’t watch so much horror as it seemed the stupid main characters were rubbing off on you.

Pulling your hands away from you crouched down to his height since the ghost was in a crawling position. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you had the strange sense that he was watching you.

“H-hello,” You stuttered, trying to figure out why the hell you were doing this. This seemed to cause the ghost to perk up, head tilting as it let out more chirps. Your eyebrows furrowed, unsure how to understand what he was trying to say. “I don’t understand.”

The being crawled closer to you, smiling as it lifted a hand and pet your hair. You blinked in confusion, feeling your cheeks warm at the sudden affection. It chirped some more before he let out what you assume is a laugh. Your mouth opens, but no words come out as you're left astounded by the whole situation. You were running for your life not moments ago, only for it to be a strangely friendly ghost. Unsure of what to do, you thought it would only be polite to reciprocate his actions, patting his head in return, before standing back up.

“Um, it was nice meeting you,” You waved, feeling a bit awkward. Did he even understand what you were saying? He tilted his head again, crawling closer to you, saying something that went over your head. Unsure of what it meant, you turned around slowly before making your way back to your home. Glancing back, you noticed the smiling ghost crawl after you, looking as happy as ever. 

Pausing your steps, you asked, “Are you coming with me?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, of course you didn’t understand his response, the being chittering and chirping. One thing rang clear, he seemed to want to go with you. You purse your lips feeling conflicted. Wasn’t it a bad thing to be haunted? To have a ghost in your life? They trick you into thinking they're good only to harm you. But the way this ghost acted seemed so innocent, like it just wanted a friend and you were probably the first one to notice, let alone treat him kindly. He was following you like he had nothing better to do, and to his credit, you weren’t sure how much a ghost can do without being bored out of their mind.

“Okay,” You relented with a sigh, already crumbling. Has it really been so long since someone was friendly with you that you’d befriend a ghost with no question? “C’mon,” You waved at him to follow you. “Let’s go.” The ghost chirped happily, crawling alongside you on your short walk home. 

Who would’ve guessed a human and a ghost could be friends?

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 2)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

You tried to close the door quietly behind you, wincing everytime it creaked, but as you tiptoed through the foyer into the living room you quickly realized your stealth was of no use. Your mother sat in her chair in the corner of the room, flipping the page on whatever cheesy self-help book she was worshiping today. She looked up at you and then to the oversized clock on the wall pointedly.

“Really? Sitting up under a single lamp light?” You rolled your eyes. “What are you gonna say next, ‘where have you been young lady?’”

“Actually, I was just going to ask if you had a good night,” she said in her all-too-familiar-guilt-trip tone. “But since I’m apparently such a stereotype, maybe I should ask where you’ve been. I’ll be the overbearing mother you’ve made up in your head.”

You just sighed. “I’m not doing this with you, goodnight mom.”

“Don’t forget we’re having dinner at the island club tomorrow night!” She called after you. “Just you, me, and Chip.”

You winced. “I don’t know if the Island Club is really my vibe anymore, mom.”

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “The other 51 weeks of the year, you are welcome to walk around like you’re better than all of us. But this week is my week and I want to have dinner at the Island Club with my daughter and my fiancé.”

In your twenty years on earth, you’d had approximately one million fights with your mother. You were wise enough by now to know which ones you were going to lose.

You sighed in defeat, “Alright mom, I’ll be there.”

Like she said, it was just one week and then you could get the hell out of here. Thinking of the night you just had with a pang of sadness, you thought, this time maybe for good.

Two Years Ago…

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe said, beaming.

“Rafe what did you do?” You asked.

“Got you something,” he shrugged, his casual tone betrayed by the big, bright smile on his face, his dimples on full display. He looked so excited it made your heart swell.

“You got me a car?” You said in disbelief.

“Not just a car, your dream car!” He extended his long arms, displaying the vehicle like a Price-is-Right model.

“You actually bought me a car?” You said quietly, shaking your head in awe.

“Do you like it?” He asked, now wringing his hands nervously. His sudden timidness made you weak, wanting to hold him in his vulnerability.

“Baby,” you said quietly before suddenly breaking out in a run toward him, leaping into his arms. Even in his surprise, he caught you, like he always did. 

You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as your arms and legs wrapped around him. He held you back so tightly, you thought he might never let go. 

“I love it,” you mumbled into his skin. “You have no idea.”

He pulled his head back to get a look at you. You had tears in your eyes as you beamed back at him.

“I love you,” you said before dropping a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You have no idea,” he said, before kissing you back harder. 

The kiss turned more passionate as he started walking the two of you toward the car, removing one hand from you to open the door to the back seat. He lowered you in slowly, both of you laughing into the kiss. You scooted backward to the other side of the back seat, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. For a moment, he just stood in the open door, taking you in. You giggled nervously under his hungry gaze.

“You gonna join me?” You asked, taunting him with the low, sexy voice you knew made him crazy.

“Just wanna look at you for a sec,” he explained. “Wanna remember.”

You leaned forward and started to crawl towards him, hands and knees sinking into the soft leather seat. 

“You have your whole life to look at me, baby,” you assured him. 

Once you were close enough to him, you stretched your neck forward and kissed him again, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into the car with you. He gladly obliged and shut the door behind him. Once he was settled, you threw your leg over him and climbed in his lap, arms outstretched past either side of his head to hold onto the seat back behind him. 

“You're not gonna hit the road in the middle of the night and leave me here now that you’ve got your own ride?” He asked, close enough to your lips that you could feel his breath sweep across them as he talked.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Unless you’re in the seat right next to me.”

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back before your lips met. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“I got you another gift,” Rafe said.

“Rafe,” you said, “you already got me a car. I don't know what could possibly top that.”

Removing one of his hands from your hips, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black box.

“Open it and find out,” he held the box out to you.

With wide eyes, you took what was clearly a jewelry box from him and opened it slowly. Rafe reached up to turn on the car light so you could better see what was inside. It was a dainty gold ring, twisting around itself to make a small knot right in the middle. It was simple, but so beautiful.

“It’s a promise ring,” he explained.

You watched him watching you, realizing he was nervous, afraid you were about to reject his gesture. You could tell by the look on his face that he had more he was struggling to say, so you silently reached out your hand and placed it on his cheek, letting him know you were listening, that he was safe.

He nuzzled his head into your soft hand and closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he opened them into yours and took a deep breath.

“You are…everything,” he said, eyebrows knit together in sincerity. As if he could somehow look at you hard enough to make you understand. “I don’t care what our parents say, or what all the people on this fucking island say, you are it for me, y/n. I will love you forever. Even if they cut us off, if we have no money and have to live out of the back of this car, I don’t care, I want you. Forever.”

He searched your face for any sign that you’d reject him, or laugh at his earnest desperation. You’d never treated him like that before, but he had been raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness, and even with all the loyalty you’ve shown him, he couldn’t fight the thought that when he told you what he was really feeling, you’d shoot him down.

Instead, you simply said, “Well, am I going to have to put it on myself?”

He laughed, relief spreading through his chest. He took the box from you and removed the ring, slipping it on your left ring finger before placing a kiss over it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and looked at him hard, praying he’d believe you when you swore, “I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.”

His lower lip flinched slightly as he fought back the tears he could feel springing up. He kissed you quick, hoping you didn’t notice. You did notice, but you kissed him back to take his mind off of it, knowing how much he hates crying in front of people. You slid your hands back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently in appreciation as he moved his lips to your neck. 

“Don’t leave any marks,” you whined. “My mom…”

“You’re 18 now, baby, she can’t do shit,” he mumbled before going back to sucking on the tender spot at the base of your neck. 

“Yeah, except stop feeding me and kick me out of the house,” you protested, though not exactly pushing him away.

“Like I said, we’ll just live in this car,” he joked. 

“Or,” you said, pulling back from him to separate his lips from your skin before it could change color, “you could leave your mark somewhere she can’t see.”

With those words, you lifted your shirt over your head. Rafe watched hungrily, your words and movements making him grow harder than he already was. You smirked as you pressed down on him, making him hiss. Eyes locked to his, you reached back to unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide away as you revealed yourself to him slowly.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he took you in. He’d seen you naked countless times now, but the way he always looked at you like it was the very first time was the hottest thing in the world to you. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” With those words, he sunk his head down and started pressing gentle kisses to the top of your breasts. 

“I love when you talk to me like that, baby,” you gasp and arch your back as he captures the sensitive skin just above your nipple between his lips and starts sucking, taking you up on your suggestion to mark you somewhere no one will see. 

 You grab the back of his neck for stability, lightly letting your painted nails sink into his skin, the blissful pain of it making his hips buck up into yours. You moan as his length presses perfectly against your clit. You’re so wet you wonder if it's soaked through to his jeans yet.

“You like this?” He asked before releasing his lips and sinking into a spot on your other breast to add to the masterpiece he was leaving on your skin.

“I love it,” You answered.

“It’s your day, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he told you.

“You always make me feel good,” you whimpered as you continued to writhe on him.

He pulled his mouth from you suddenly and moved his hands to your ass, holding you up so you couldn’t push down on him anymore. You pouted slightly, and he smirked at your neediness. 

“Today’s all about you,” he said. He moved you off of him and laid you down on the seat, kneeling so he could hover over you. He caged you in with an arm at either side of your head. You twisted your neck to look at his arm, admiring the veins that ran up the side, committing the sight to memory. You loved everything about your boyfriend’s body, but something about his arms really drove you wild. Impulsively, you leaned over and placed a kiss on the inside of his forearm, loving how soft his skin was. 

The gentleness of the moment made his skin break out in goosebumps and he looked down at you with hearts in his eyes. The only thing in the world he wanted at that moment was to make you feel how in love with you he is, so he lowered himself between your legs and got to work on your third gift of the day.

Now…

Rafe had two meetings today to sell some of the melted gold, both of which went exactly how he’d hoped. He didn’t understand how the high from the sale could wear off so quickly. So, like most nights, he found himself at the Island Club bar, three bourbons deep. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the conversation he just had with Topper about Sarah not answering his calls. 

“What a cuck,” he said to himself under his breath. 

Little did he know that just a few yards away, inside the club dining room, the girl he used to regularly ditch all of his friends for was sitting down to dinner.

You liked Chip just fine, he was a deputy at the sheriff’s department and though you had never been a huge fan of cops, he seemed to genuinely care about helping people. He made your mom happy, and she appears to have worked through some of the anxiety issues she had in your teens, which you were grateful for.

Even though you were tucked in a dark corner of the Island Club dining room, you and your mother still clocked all of the stares from nosy neighbors, wine moms, and kids you grew up with. It was like an Elvis sighting, after the wildfire of rumors that had engulfed the island after your disappearance two years ago. Chip, however, seemed to be none the wiser to your storied past. You didn’t know if your mom had told him all that had happened, and you kind of hoped she wouldn’t. He seemed like a simple guy with a simple view of the world, and you’d appreciate it if your mom would let him stay that way.

Chip was telling a story about one of his coworkers getting their arm stuck in the vending machine, when a commotion from outside the restaurant cut him off.

“I pay just as much as all of you assholes!” A man’s voice bellowed through the open windows.

Your heart froze and you closed your eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. When you looked up, you caught your mother’s glare, she had apparently placed the voice, too. 

A glass shattered, followed by the voice yelling, “take your fucking hands off me, douche bag!”

“I’m just going to…” you set your napkin on the table and pushed your chair back.

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “We’re having dinner.”

“I’m just going to make sure everything is okay,” you said, hoping she didn’t realize that you were trying to convince yourself you had a reason to go out there just as much as you were trying to convince her. 

“You’re not here for him,” she said. “You’re supposed to be here for me, for your family.”

Chip’s eyes darted quickly back and forth between you and your mother, totally lost. The two of you gave each other a look that clearly had years of history behind it, and he decided he might want to just stay in the dark.

“I’ll be right back,” you said definitively, standing from the table. Your mother sipped her wine bitterly as she watched you go.

You made your way out onto the patio, following the booming of Rafe’s voice over to the bar. He was face-to-face with another member, a middle aged man who was jabbing his finger into Rafe’s chest as he yelled at him.

“Everyone here is just trying to have a nice evening and you’re over here running your mouth,” the man spat.

Rafe shoved the man’s hand away from him and looked to the much younger woman who was standing behind him.

“I’m sorry for ruining your date with grandpa here, sweetheart,” he joked loudly. “If you ever want to be with a guy who can get it up without a truckload of Viagra, you give me a call, gorgeous.”

The man shoved Rafe and he stumbled backward, laughing, clearly drunk.

“Woah there cowboy,” Rafe chuckled. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene, now would we?”

He was being smug, dripping with arrogance, and it was making you sick. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You thought this time you’d be able to confront him, try to understand why he was treating people like this, but the twist of your stomach forced you away from the scene as you fled from the patio towards the beach.

Rafe was about ready to cock his fist back, too drunk to care about escalating the situation further, when he saw it again - a flash of long hair and a flowing skirt disappearing from view. He suddenly felt completely sober. He patted the guy on the back and threw back the last of his drink before following the mysterious figure down to the beach. 

You stood at the edge of the water, doubled over with your heels in your hand, trying desperately to catch your breath. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you should just keep your head down and act like the only thing that matters to you on this island is her wedding. But both of you knew that wasn’t true, that it could never be true, not when he’s here. Not when something has clearly changed him, and you can’t sleep at night not knowing what horrible thing could’ve happened to make him behave this way. Just because you buried your love for him, didn’t mean the ghost of it had stopped haunting you.

You composed yourself and decided to go back to dinner. You’d fake your way through the rest of the week. You’d lie low, send your mother on her honeymoon, and finally get off this island for good. But when you turned back toward the club, he was there. Standing ten-feet away, just watching you.

“It is you,” he whispered, the wind knocked out of him from the shock of seeing your face in the moonlight.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, but it doesn’t come out in the confident, casual way you had practiced for the last two years, preparing for the moment you’d inevitably see him again. Instead it’s meek, shaking with your unstable breath.

“What are you…” Rafe is speechless. For just a moment, he’s that soft, insecure boy you used to know. The boy you loved, who loved you desperately in return. He must catch the faint smile you can’t hold back, because his mouth slams shut and his jaw clenches. His wide eyes become steeley again as his shield flies back up.

“What are you doing here?” He practically spits.

“My mom is getting married,” you say, no smile gracing your lips anymore. “I thought you would’ve heard.”

“Been busy,” he shrugs. “Believe it or not I have actual shit going on.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “I can tell.”

“The fuck’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He takes an angry step towards you.

“Just the way you were talking back there, and at your party the other night,” you say. “Looks like you’re the big man now.”

It was you at the party. Rafe shakes his head in disgust, this is the final confirmation he needed to make-up his mind about whether he’s pissed at you. He’d prepared for this moment too, not sure if when he saw you again, he’d want to kiss you or kill you. Right now he was leaning toward the latter.

“Yeah, maybe I am,” Rafe says. “Now that I don’t have all of you holding me back.”

There’s a flash of something you can’t quite place in his eyes. For just a moment, he’s not here, like he’s losing a battle to stay in the moment. You wonder what kind of demons are roaring in his mind. You wish you didn’t want so desperately to exorcise them.

“All of us?” You repeat his words back to him, wondering who else joins you in the club of people Rafe Cameron now hates. You look him up and down with soft, sad eyes. 

“What happened to you, Rafe?”

“I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, Y/N,” your name shoots off his tongue like a bullet, nothing like the way he used to coo it in worship when he held you, or moan it in awe when he was inside of you. “Why don’t you just fuck off back to wherever you’ve been. You don’t belong here anymore.”

You just look at him, head tilted as your narrow eyes size him up in a way that makes him feel like an exposed nerve. You know the second you get home tonight, the tears will come, but right now you put on a stoic demeanor to match his own. This was the opposite of the reunion you had dreamed of. You thought you’d be back in the arms of the person who knew you better than anyone in the world, but instead you stand face-to-face with a total stranger.

You start to walk back up the beach in his direction, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobs as you get closer to him. Once you’re next to him, you look up into the blue eyes that you used to imagine your kids would have someday. So many things you’d wanted to say, hundreds of letters never sent, millions of tiny memories you’d hold onto forever, but now, with his frame looming over you, all you could think to say was,

“I hate your hair.”

And for the third time this week, he stood breathless as he watched you disappear.

(chapter 3)

a/n: THANK YOU so much for all the support on chapter one, I am actually blown away I did not think so many people would enjoy my words!! Special thank you to bestie @nadvs for all the inspo and advice!!! 🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 24th

leon kennedy x consensual somnophilia

it was never something leon would have ever considered.

sex was always something leon would do with you, not to you — and he wanted it that way. he loved making you beg for it, loved watching your reactions, loved watching you start off shy and end up a mouthy mess, barely making any sense. it was part of the fun.

he’d been coming home late as of recently, either called out onto some kind of ridiculous mission, or stacked high with paperwork that kept him back after hours working overtime. he was making great money, you couldn’t complain — leon using his overtime earnings to spoil you like you deserved, but it was stealing the most valuable thing of all from you, and that was him.

you were needy, needed his physical affection, his cock bruising your insides and strong arms wrapped around you grounding you — reminding you that he was here, and yours, and safe. it just wasn’t possible lately, only seeing him in the mornings before he’d leave. you tried really hard to stay awake when he’d get home, yawning and rubbing your eyes as you’d text him and tell him— but you’d usually get hit with the ‘You need your rest, baby. Go to sleep.’ text response and who are you to argue? you couldn’t if you tried, often falling asleep with the lamp on, sprawled atop the sheets. his tired frame would find you like that when he returns home, shaking his head with a tired chuckle and tucking you in. leon looks after you like that.

you’d awoken with a plan, waking up earlier than leon’s alarm and padding into the kitchen to make him breakfast before he leaves— making his morning easier by laying out his clothes, his badge, his wallet — really playing at housewife, which you both enjoyed.

he was smiling sleepily when he found you in the kitchen, serving up his food to go so that he wasn’t late.

“whats all this, hm?” he smirks as he approaches you, pulling you toward him by the hips and pressing a grateful kiss to the centre of your forehead.

“just wanna treat you right, i know you’re working hard and you’re tired… i miss you though.” you exhale slowly, still sleepy yourself as you burrow your cheek to his chest. his heart pangs a little at your sad tone, stroking down the back of your dishevelled head.

“i know, sweetheart. i’m sorry i’ve been so busy, works been hectic lately but things should be clearing up soon. then i can take some time off, spend time with my number one.” his sympathetic tone fades to a grin, running a thumb over your cheek when you smile with him.

“‘kay.” you seem satisfied, walking him to the door, watching him pull his fur lined jacket on to protect him from the chilly winter weather outside. the jacket makes him seem even bigger than he is, which makes you bite back a needy giggle as you hand him his brown paper bag with his breakfast inside.

“alright, baby. thanks for the food. i’ll be back later.” he pinches your chin affectionately. “wheres my kiss?” he tilts his head a little with a playful smirk, and you don’t wait another second before standing on your tiptoes and planting a kiss to his lips, savouring the feeling knowing you’ll miss him all day. it was then time to propose your plan.

you pull back, and he goes to step away but you speak, as casually as possible.

“oh, and leon. if you come home and you need me, you can use me whilst i sleep if you’d like. i don’t wear panties to bed.” you smile innocently, before pulling back fully. “see you later!” you usher him out as he stares back in shock, not giving him time to respond. you all but kick him out as you giggle, going about your day.

he’d thought about it a lot that day.

he couldn’t do that to you, right? use you whilst you slept. it was… degrading. inherently wrong. his sweet girl, unaware of his touch. and yet, you were so willing, the look in your eyes when you’d permit him access to you whilst you slept haunted him all day. you’d tried to play it cool, but leon knew you too well — knew that needy, neglected look in your eyes. you were practically begging to be touched. had it really been that long?

he’d arrived home late as usual, and by the time he did, with all the work that had been lumped onto him he’d pretty much forgotten momentarily about that morning, that was until he entered the bedroom.

it’s like you’d set the scene perfectly for him.

he puffs out his cheeks a little as he exhales, running hands over his cheeks like he was trying to wipe off water. you were there, fast asleep on the bed wearing just his t-shirt. the blankets had been kicked down to just cover one foot, bunching up on your other side — and your leg was cocked up as you lay on your stomach. he creeps further into the room, sighing at how beautiful you looked illuminated only by the bright moonlight. his tshirt had ridden up, revealing your plump ass and glistening wet cunt in the low light. poor thing, he thinks — you’d gone to bed all needy.

he’s surprised the sound of his belt clinking as he undoes it doesn’t wake you, usually having a rather pavlovian effect on you to make you salivate whenever you hear it. he still feels slightly guilty despite the clear permission you’d given ringing bright and new in his memory. there was nothing wrong with just getting comfy and laying beside his girl, right?

he wedges himself gently behind you, still wearing his clothes, and in your sleep you habitually shuffle up closer to him, pressing your bare ass against his cock. he winces, hand coming up to caress the skin there. “fuck.” he murmurs, cock hard in his jeans.

maybe he could just jerk himself off, right here beside you. that wasn’t so bad, right? he pulls his pants and boxers down to his knees and quickly gets to work, the other hand carefully pinching the material of his tshirt and lifting it slowly to reveal more skin to him. he inhales, jaw slacking a little at the sight of your curves as he touches himself— and he feels himself getting more desperate. what’s the harm in playing with you just a little?

he slows his movements on his own cock, bringing his hand slowly to your ass again, rubbing soothing circles on the skin. his hand creeps from there to between your legs, his fingers experimentally swiping through your soaked folds. you must’ve prepared yourself before you slept. a wave of heat rushed through him as he wondered if you went to bed this wet every night since he’d been working so much and not pleasing you. without thought his fingers slide up to your clit, giving it a few affectionate rubs like he usually would. you whine sleepily and he shushes you.

“it’s okay baby, it’s me.”

you don’t seem to stir, and his blood is fucking pumping. he leans over you, using his strong arm to hold himself up and swipes his tip through your folds, coating himself in your slick. “so god damn wet.” he hisses, brows knitting. he gets himself into a comfortable position before pushing himself a little just past the tip.

you cry out a little into the pillow, and he hears himself shushing you again. “i know sweet girl, just me.” he sighs, pressing his forehead against your back.

he keeps you like that for a while, arm trembling a little whilst he holds himself up. you just feel so good, swallowing half of him — and he realises just how pent up he’s been since he’d been working overtime. he slowly bottoms out, letting out the most pornographic yet quiet moan, perfectly forming an ‘ugh’ sound in the air as you squeeze around him. he starts to grind in and out of you, and only then you stir — always the heavy sleeper.

you let out a disorientated yet pleased whine, clenching down hard as your consciousness comes to the surface. leon, mounting you still, wraps one thick arm beneath your stomach, effortlessly holding you to him as if you were a pillow or a stuffed animal — the other thick forearm wedged itself beneath you to work at your clit, light but slightly frenzied circles pressed against it. you let out a sleepy sob, drool painting your chin as your noises come out muffled to the pillow.

“you’re okay, pretty girl. s’just me remember. fuck. you still sure you want me up in here?” you feel his clothed stomach against your back.

“mhm!” you rasp, barely awake just drifting in and out of what felt like a perfect wet dream.

soon you’re clenching down hard again, almost trapping his movement. he lets you hump your clit on the heel of his hand as he tried his hardest to look round at you from his position. “you wanna cum on it, baby? yeah?” he cooes, slightly whiny and high pitched signalling he wasn’t far behind you. “such a good girl giving yourself to me like this. gonna treat you all fuckin’ night, make up for lost time.” he really is whining now, the soft sounds of his pelvis clapping against your ass filling the room.

you snuggle against him as best as you can, eyes squeezing shut as you feel yourself waking up properly to a hearty orgasm on your boyfriends thick cock.

but leon wasn’t done yet. needless to say, he was tired at work the next day.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 12

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, poorly written smut, mention of scars, allusions to child abuse

A/N: I feel like I say this about every chapter but I really struggled with this one. I even scrapped 3,800 words because I hated it so much. It still ended up being a long one but it feels like a lot of time skipping and nonsense. The beginning is nice though. ;) I hope it’s at least somewhat enjoyable. Thank you, my dears.💙

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Your body was on fire; electric jolts sparking with pleasure each place where his skin was touching yours. It was never like this before. It was purely physical, without attachment. Now it felt like he had integrated himself into your very soul. You wanted him deeper than his cock dragging over your inner walls; you wanted him beneath your very skin. 

Each thrust was slow but deep, his back arching when he rolled his hips into you. His lips and hands felt like they were everywhere all at once. He wasn’t just fucking you. He was making love to you. Deliberate, delicate, yet no less exhilarating. 

Your hips raised of their own volition to meet his. You were desperate to snap that inner tension; the tightly coiled heat low in your belly. Daryl had other plans. He was drawing this out. He was savoring you. 

“Easy. I gotcha.” He purred against your ear just before his lips attached to the skin above where your pulse thrummed. “S’gonna feel real good. Hang on for me.” He ventured lower to draw a nipple into his mouth, the swirling of his tongue pulling a moan from you, your hands moving from his bare back to his hair and then returning. You urged him back to your mouth, whining against his smiling lips. 

“Please.” You weren’t sure what you were pleading for; there was so much sensation that you couldn’t even pinpoint where you needed him most. “Please, please, please.” He chuckled and made a slow journey with his fingertips, whispering down your torso to disappear between your bodies. A calloused thumb pressed against your clit and you nearly wailed. 

“That’s it. Let go for me.” His thrusts never wavered, leaving you to dimly wonder if this would be the first of many orgasms he would give you before he was chasing his own high. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

You could feel your cunt clamp around him and begin to pull him impossibly deeper, preparing for your orgasm to wash over you. You were right on the edge, teetering. His lips met yours and your hips angled upward, the knot ready to burst. Just as you felt the first wave of ecstasy—

You opened your eyes to the dim light of a small lamp on the bedside table. You still felt tired when somewhere in your mind, you could recall that something happened and you should feel better. In your sleepy haze, you couldn’t seem to summon the memories. Only the residual feel of Daryl’s body pressed against yours and the pleasure he was so eagerly offering you. 

“That must’ve been some dream.”

You lifted your head to find Carol sitting in a chair close to the bedside, a small smile on her face and her hands folded on her lap. 

“Carol.” Your lips curved upward ever so slightly. 

“So dehydrated but still able to drool so I’d say we’re making progress.” She chuckled while you dragged the back of your hand across your mouth with a curl of your lip. 

“The baby okay?” You scratched at your scalp, still trying to piece together what happened that ended with you in bed and hooked up to fluids. 

“Mhm. Hershel says the heartbeat is strong.” She smiled, the sadness behind her eyes more transparent than she probably realized. 

“What happened?” You inquired, slowly pushing yourself up to sit against the headboard without disturbing the IV tubing. Just as her mouth opened, the memories of your rescue mission came flooding back in a breathtaking onslaught. “Oh god, Daryl!” You grabbed the blanket and threw it back, aiming to get to your feet, only halting by a gentle touch to your ankle. 

“He’s in the next room. He’s gonna be fine.”

When the sudden rush evaporated, you sank back against the pillows. You had all three made it. 

“He was in shock by the time you made it back. Hershel gave him some IV fluids and is going to start some antibiotics. He’s all patched up. He’ll be back to his cheery self in no time.”

You chuckled. “Just a ball of sunshine, that one.” Your smile fell away, remembering just how horrible he had looked the last time you saw him; dragging his feet along behind you. Blood dampened his shirt, his pants. He was pale as milk, dark circles under his eyes. You held on to a fragile hope that he—if nothing else—looked better after stitches and fluids. “Is he awake?”

“He was stirring a little while ago.” You nodded, picking at your left thumbnail. “I’m gonna get you some water. Maybe we can take out that IV now that you’re awake.” The other woman stood gracefully, donning her usual smile except it wasn’t quite reaching her eyes. Your gaze followed her out the door, your heart aching for her. She was so intent on caring for you and your baby while her own child was still missing. It was a bleak reminder of how unfair life truly was. 

You inwardly sighed, your stomach beginning to feel ill at ease. How did you end up in this position? All of it. The dead rising to eat the living. Losing everyone you held dear. Making a baby with a complete stranger. And now so desperate to keep that man in your life that it frightened you. Just—how?

Everything had been so normal before. You had your routine with your father waiting at home for you everyday. You’d sit with him over a dinner that you prepared, listening to his lame jokes and laughing even harder when they weren’t funny. Your uncles and aunt would come over once every two weeks for a big supper. You’d usually save the larger kill for those occasions. 

God, you missed them. 

But they weren’t here now.

Daryl was. You’d be damned if you’d lose someone else. 

A soft knock on the door signaled Carol’s return. She had a tray of food. Eggs, apparently. The last time, when Daryl had brought them, you had been famished and paid no mind to the smell. It was different this time, and your stomach was not pleased. 

“The eggs.” You gagged, sitting up and covering your mouth and nose. Carol’s eyes widened and she swiftly put the tray outside the door and grabbed up the water glass before she shut the smell out. 

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “I brought the pills that Maggie and Glenn were able to get. They found a few bottles so you should be set for now.” She handed you the medication and the water. Your stomach churned angrily. “I’ll see about getting Beth to make you another smoothie.”

“Thank you.” It was made clear by the expression on her face that she was worried. “I’ll be okay.” The pill had a grainy texture and left a horrible taste. You washed it down with a sip of water, but the unpleasant assault on your tastebuds continued. It would be worth it if it meant everything would stop trying to crawl out of your throat. 

“I’ll get Hershel to see about that IV. Then maybe you’d like to go see Daryl?”

You gave her a nod and a tight-lipped smile, watching her leave to fetch the vet. Ugh. You knew he would lecture you, but you couldn’t let it sway your desire to protect your little family. That’s exactly what it was: a family. Your relationship with Daryl didn’t alter the fact that you would share a child. Co-parent. Protect one another.

A rapid knock on the door before it opened revealed the vet. “Carol tells me you’re feeling okay. Maybe we can remove your IV if you can ensure you’ll continue to take in as much water as you can.” 

“I can do that.”

He studied you for a moment, as if searching for a hint that you may not follow through. Apparently satisfied that you’d heed his instructions, he rounded the bed and began working on removing the catheter from your arm. The grim expression was sign enough that you were about to be scolded. “Y/N, you understand the risks involved when you go out there.” And so it began. “This, I can’t stop you from doing but you should consider the safety of your child if nothing else.”

“No one else was going to try and find him. It was something I had to do.” You lowered your head, feeling not unlike a child who was in trouble for drawing on the walls and knowing better. 

There was nothing left to say. He continued to stare for a moment after instructing you to bend your arm and hold pressure on the square of gauze he’d placed there. Perhaps, he was attempting to understand. Maybe he was judging your decision. Maybe he was even praying for you. It didn’t matter. In the end, he gave a curt nod and turned to leave the room. 

As soon as the door closed, you tossed the gauze onto the bedside table, carefully lowering your feet to the floor. The mattress acted as support while you ensured dizziness wouldn’t bombard you. Your vision stayed clear, even if your stomach was still protesting. Hopefully it would settle soon enough. 

You knew Daryl would likely be across the hall. There was an anxiety at the thought of seeing him; one you couldn’t validate. You knew you wanted to go, to see with your own eyes that he was alive and healing. You chose to ignore the feeling and opened the door, pausing on the threshold when you heard his voice. 

“I didn’t do anythin’ Rick or Shane wouldn’t done.”

“I know.” You could see Carol step into the doorway of the adjacent room. You stepped back behind the frame of your own, feeling like an intruder. “You’re every bit as good as them. Every bit.” The door closed, her soft steps moving further away, most likely in route to get your smoothie. 

You could absolutely throttle the redneck after hearing him downplay what he had been nearly killing himself to achieve. He had worked just as hard as anyone else in the search for Sophia. If he wouldn’t acknowledge the effort he’d put in, he was likely giving himself hell over being placed on the sidelines after his injury. There was no way Hershel was going to clear him to go back out there anytime soon. 

Your bare feet barely made a sound when you crossed the space between rooms, leaning into the door with one hand on the knob while the other quietly knocked. 

“Jesus, can’t a guy get some sleep ‘round here. What is it now?”

Scrunching your nose in response to his grumpy attitude, you opened the door and peered inside. He most likely wasn’t expecting you. His back was to you, the sheet up to the curve of his hips, giving you a glimpse of the deep, dark puckered lines of several scars. His skin was still pale. They likely didn’t appear so harsh against his normally tan complexion. Still…

“Hey, dumbass. How’re you feeling?” The way he flinched and clumsily gripped the thin cover to drag it up higher made your chest tighten. The reason he didn’t want to remove his shirt when you fucked; he didn’t want you see. 

“Callin’ me a dumbass when you was the one came runnin’ after me all half cocked.” He mumbled, not turning to look at you. Deflecting. You decided to let it go. He was so ashamed of that part of himself. He needed to keep that secret. It wasn’t yours to know. Maybe one day. 

“I could make so many jokes out of what you just said and most would be at your expense.”

“Y’can go now, funny girl.”

You crawled up onto the mattress and maneuvered your way over to where he lay, resting your chin on the curve of his shoulder while carefully avoiding adding any pressure against his wounded side. 

“Don’t be such a sourpuss. You know you’re glad to see me.”

Daryl scoffed, shrugging his shoulder to jostle your head. “Pain in my ass.” You peered at his outstretched right arm, the taped tubing leading up to a bag of clear fluids, half empty. At least his skin was feeling warmer. “Y’okay?”

“I’m sure they already told you that I’m fine.” You answered softly. You resisted the urge to brush your fingers over the bandage on his head. 

“Don’t matter. Better to hear it outta ya own mouth.”

You smiled. “I’m fine, Daryl. A little nauseous but Maggie and Glenn found the medicine.”

He grunted, a moment passing before he asked “baby okay?” His voice had lowered, muscles tensing beneath your chin, as if he were bracing himself for your answer. 

“Mhm. Hershel checked and said the heartbeat was strong.” He relaxed almost immediately. You were once again reminded of his desire to not be touched. You had seen him flinch away from Rick and Carol. After a rare glimpse at his bare back, the fear made sense. But he saw you differently. He had chosen to accept you as safe for whatever reason. It had to be more than your willingness to spread your legs for him once upon a time not that long ago. 

“That’s good.” He muttered. He sounded a little groggy. 

“He give you something for the pain?” You tilted your head on his arm, your cheek lightly pressing against the muscle there. 

“Mhm. Didn’t want it. Shoulda saved it.” 

“Take the meds, you stubborn ass.” You nearly shoved at him, albeit playfully. It still would have caused him discomfort. His movements were stiff, the muscles rippling under your face as his hand came up to present a clear message in the form of one finger. “You’re so mature, Dixon.” You teased. “I’m so honored to be the birth giver of your spawn.” There was instant regret when you felt him flinch, tense up, and then deflate. 

“M’sorry.” His voice was raspy. Tired. You didn’t hesitate to caress the white bandage over his temple this time. 

“Don’t be.” You soothed, watching him battle to stay awake. “I’m not.” You glanced at the sheet covering his back, shielding his shame from you. You could see the very top of what appeared to be the aftermath of a burn. Daryl had definitely had the opposite of your childhood. Where you had love and tenderness and support, it was suggested Daryl had pain and cruelty and isolation. Somehow, you knew that he would want better for his own child. 

“I ain’t gonna be—like our daddy. My kid—ain’t gonna be like us.”

You brought your hand up to trace shapes onto his forearm, smiling as goosebumps rose from the gentle caress. “Daryl?”

You thought he might already be asleep, but then he drew in a breath and answered with a drawn out “hmm?” 

“I really am honored.” 

He went so still that he appeared to hold his breath, before he made a dismissive noise and shrugged you off of him. “Tryin’a sleep, woman.”

“Okay.” You had hit a nerve. It wasn’t like you didn’t consider the possibility he’d react negatively. “I’ll be across the hall.” You gracelessly scooted across the mattress, just having thrown your legs over the edge when there was a grip on your wrist, firm but gentle. You looked over your shoulder to find him awkwardly balanced on his right elbow while keeping the arm as straight as possible for the IV. He wasn’t looking at you but it had to hurt for him to have twisted into how he was to reach for you. 

The breath he took shuddered. “Stay.” 

“Alright.” Your free hand came to rest on the one that held your wrist, intending to provide comfort for a request he was obviously uncomfortable to make, but he pulled back his arm and settled against the pillow. Withholding your sigh, you settled behind him on your side, facing him but not touching. 

It wasn’t difficult for sleep to find you in the dimly lit room with Daryl’s deep, even breathing acting as your gentle lullaby. 

It was frightening how so many things could change so quickly. Hell, an entire world could end in a matter of days. 

You were up and about the day after you awoke with the IV in your arm. Hershel had instructed you to take it easy and, for once in your life, you had listened. You helped with cooking and hanging laundry. Anything that allowed you to sit often for water breaks and did not require you to lift. 

Daryl was also out of the house that following day. Not because Hershel had allowed it. But because he felt anxious, cooped up. He was stealthy, as per usual, and back in his tent with a book before anyone had noticed he was missing. To his credit, he did move slower and didn’t engage in anything strenuous. Well, for a few days anyway. 

Lori’s pregnancy had been a shocker to everyone. It was laughable to you how suddenly, you weren’t such a burden in the eyes of the second officer. It was also very revealing. You had suspected something all along, but watching him with Rick’s wife when he thought all heads were turned had just confirmed your suspicions. 

That same man was growing more and more volatile with each passing day. He was constantly challenging Rick, the sort of leader of your little group, and then going off on his own to do god knows what. Daryl had butted heads with him a few times over a variety of things. The most recent was just before Lori’s pregnancy was revealed. Shane made an off-handed comment—after you had once again stood your ground against him—about breeding with a redneck having an affect on your mentality. The archer had only conceded when you had stepped in front of him. 

Tensions only rose when Glenn had revealed that Hershel had been keeping walkers in the barn. The issue was debated and discussed repeatedly with no clear resolution. Shane had come stomping over to the porch where everyone was congregated, handing out guns and riling everyone up. He was determined to clear the barn. You stood with Lori, even as Daryl went in with Shane, guns blazing. The action was one that would change everything for everyone forever. 

When the lanky little girl stumbled out of the darkness beyond the barn doors, no one moved. No one made a sound. Except Carol. She had tried to run to Sophia, would have gladly allowed her daughter to rip into her throat at that moment if it meant she would get to hold her. Your fingers only brushed the woman’s arm as you attempted to stop her with a watery call of her name. Luckily, Daryl was successful. He held her until the last moment and even after the walker had fallen by Rick’s gun. 

The drama didn’t end there. 

A young man had been kept in the barn after Rick, Glenn, and Hershel had brought him back with an injury that required surgery. Randall ended up knowing of the Greene farm and thus, became a threat. Rather, the group that had left him was a threat, but—guilty by association and all that. Daryl had participated in the torture of the kid for information. That led to the collapse of already unsteady ground between the two of you. Dale had died still believing that the group was above taking a life. Randall was still in that barn, awaiting the decision on his fate. 

Daryl took the discovery of Sophia in the barn harder than anyone, the exception being Carol. He moved his tent away from the camp, hunted alone, and stayed away from everyone. 

Including you. 

The one time you had tried to talk with him, not even about the distance between you, he had reacted with anger. When you stomped away, you swore you wouldn’t go back. And you hadn’t. That had been more than two weeks ago. 

Inside the house, you were noticing even more changes but these were within your own body. It was as if, over night, your breasts had decided that your bra was just no longer suitable housing. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you studied them. They didn’t look bigger. Squeezing them in your palms, you hissed at the tender ache the gentle action left behind. You’d just have to wear a flannel over your cami so your nipples didn’t alert everyone that the evening was getting chilly. 

Your special condition had been particularly nasty the past two days, requiring fluids once again, leaving you weak and exhausted. You grabbed your jeans from the armchair and stepped into them. There was the slightest bit of resistance getting them over your hips, earning a crease in your brow. It wasn’t until the button and zipper wouldn’t meet that you realized something really had changed. 

Pushing the denim back to your knees, you turned sideways in front of the mirror. Sure enough, there was the slightest curve to your lower belly. How hadn’t you noticed? With a defeated slump to your shoulders, you let your head roll over to where your sleep pants laid at the foot of the bed. Those and your oversized t-shirt had been enough to keep you ignorant to the changes your body was making to accommodate your baby. 

“Ugh, I’m not ready, Thumper.” You whined with a cool palm over the small bump. Grumbling to yourself as you kicked off the jeans and grabbed the plaid cotton pants, you slipped them on and just pulled the t-shirt back on over your camisole. Your flannel would be enough against the autumn chill and with your boots adding to your already questionable attire, you trudged out the door and down the stairs. 

Your first stop was the kitchen. Lori was there with Carl, handing him a plate that contained a sandwich and probably stale potato chips. She smiled at you as you entered, eyeing your outfit with a barely concealed smile. 

“Hey there. Making a fashion statement?”

Drinking down a glass of water to swallow your pill, you turned sideways and hauled up your shirt and cami before lowering your pants slightly. The other woman gave you a nod. 

“Ah, I see.” Lori began putting away food that was not used for lunch. “How far along are you?”

The question caught you off guard. You honestly hadn’t thought about it in a while. You had been more concerned with Glenn being able to find enough vitamins, with keeping down enough food and water, with Daryl being a jerk, and just with surviving. The farm had brought about several weeks of safety and you wished for your little calendar that you had kept in the beginning. 

“It’s okay if you don’t—”

“No, I got this.” You assured, beginning to count on your fingers. It was more difficult than you thought. The days seemed to blend, some more eventful than others, leaving you unable to recall the quiet days in between. “Maybe 17 weeks?”

Lori nodded. “Sounds about right. Everyone’s different but I’m finding myself more sick with this one than I ever was with Carl. When you have your second, it could be smooth sailing and you could have already popped,” she raised her hands in air quotes, “by the time you’re this far along.”

You tilted your head. “Popped?”

Lori chuckled and continued with her task. “Means that one day you just wake up to a very noticeable belly.”

You looked down at your stomach, still on display with your shirt tucked under your arms to keep it raised. You wouldn’t say that you have popped as Lori put it. It was hardly noticeable until you tried to fasten your jeans. However, it was there. You adjusted your clothes and pursed your lips with a hum. 

“Not sure there’ll ever be a second. I think one might be enough for the end of the world.”

You could see her expression shift, the smile and ease morphing into a questioning discomfort. Maybe it was time to table this conversation. 

“I think I’ll head outside for a while. Get some fresh air. Maybe see if someone will take me to get some different clothes. I definitely don’t want to run around in my pajamas when the weather turns.” The other woman nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”

“I will, thanks.”

You dipped your head and ambled out the screen door. The sun’s glare, high in the sky, was a shock to your eyes after being tucked away inside. Your hand acted as a visor against your brow as you scanned the farm. Everyone was scurrying around in their day to day activities, a sort of normalcy settling since everyone had moved into the house.

Except Daryl, of course. 

You heaved a sigh at the thought of him out toward the edge of the farm alone. He could handle himself but the self isolation he was inflicting caused a heaviness in your heart that was beginning to fester. Carol had tried to bring him back and he had become irate. The things he had said to her were shared with you when the woman had finally let her tears fall against your shoulder. You wanted to throat punch him. 

Maybe you would. 

You saw Andrea perched on top of the RV with her rifle. You could almost picture Dale hovering behind her, as he often did. The vehicles had been moved closer to the house, providing much needed reassurance of a quick escape if it were deemed necessary. Chewing on your lip, you let your shoulders drop. It was time to bury that hatchet. 

The climb up the ladder wasn’t as difficult as you thought it’d be. You weren’t thrilled about the height with your sporadic bouts of dizziness but as long as you stayed near the middle, it’d be okay. 

Andrea glowered for a moment before turning back to keep watch over the fields. 

“Hey.” You greeted. She didn’t respond, her eyes looking you up and down before she turned around again. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve more than that. You pointed a gun at my head.” 

You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath. “You could have killed Daryl, Andrea.” You kept your tone level, holding up a hand when she spun around with no doubt a snarky retort on her tongue. “I didn’t come to argue with you. I came to apologize.”

“Yeah? Apology not accepted.”

Another deep breath. “That decision is yours to make. Nevertheless, I’m sorry. I was sick. I was exhausted. I wasn’t thinking clearly and you had just shot the man I lo—the father of my baby.” You blinked, stunned by what you’d almost said in the moment. The look that suddenly appeared on Andrea’s face conveyed she’d caught it too. You shook your head and continued, hoping both of you could just forget it. “None of those things are an excuse for what I did when it was truly a mistake. So, I’m sorry.” When you turned to climb down, you had nearly let yourself be suffocated by the weight of your near an admission. Was it an admission? Were you just emotional? Hormones? Insanity? The dream and then this?

“I won’t tell anyone.” 

You turned back, catching her eye and holding it. She could. She could spread it through the group and eventually it would make its way to Daryl and you were not ready to have that conversation. After a moment, you nodded in silent thanks. “Are we good?” Your voice was weaker than you intended. 

Andrea smiled, a surprising kindness in her gaze. “We’re good.”

You inexplicably wanted to cry, barely controlling the quiver of your chin. “Thanks.” Going down the ladder was a little more difficult in part to the blurred vision for which the tears were responsible. 

Once your feet were on the ground, you just started to walk, no destination in mind. When your heart screamed for Daryl, your rationality stomped it down. He was your friend. Alright, you’d been closer to him than anyone else in the group. It was never supposed to be something more. You didn’t want anything more. You didn’t want a baby with him. You didn’t want to feel trapped there. 

But you didn’t feel trapped, did you? The majority of that group was kind to you. They cared for you when you were ill, expecting nothing from you. Daryl, for all his tendency to an absolute asshat, had been tender with you at times. You were safe when you could have been alone, left to figure out the pregnancy and raise a baby on your own. No, you wouldn’t have made it on your own. The complications would have killed you. 

You let out a sob, walking faster and allowing the tears to flow without wiping them away. Your cheeks and neck were damp. Why were you even upset? Had the world finally broken you? You thought you’d last much longer than that, but you never could have predicted the events that had led you to where you were. 

And where you were was Daryl’s camp. 

The archer was perched on the ground, next to a dark patch of earth surrounded by rocks; a fire pit that was currently unutilized. He was scowling when he looked up at your approach, but his expression changed; a sudden conveyance of concern as he hauled himself to his feet. 

“S’wrong?” 

You didn’t know why you were there. The last thought of him before you spoke with Andrea was one of anger. Your body was crying out for a feeling of safety; for a shield from everything bad that could harm you or the little innocent life inside you. Somehow—for reasons you no longer had the energy to debunk—your feet took you straight to Daryl. 

“Y/N?” His gruff voice spoke into your hair after you walked directly into his space, your fisted hands tucked under your chin while your face pressed into the solid warmth of his chest. He didn’t move. You didn’t want him to, not really. It would only make everything more confusing. 

When he remained silent but his hand came to rest lightly against your back, you turned your hands and grabbed fistfuls of his vest. You pushed him away and hauled him right back, angry that he let you. You needed him to yell at you. You needed him to tell you that he didn’t care; that he’d only be around for you because of the baby. 

When you tried to shove him again, he stood firm, his other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 

“Goddamnit, Daryl! Push me away! Shut me out!” You slapped a hand hard against his chest, fingers pulling at the leather again. 

“Why?”

You couldn’t answer him. You couldn’t answer because you didn’t know. You didn’t want him to send you away. And you were so scared of that revelation that you yearned to scream just to feel something other than scattered turmoil that was enveloping your heart in a deviant swaddle of barbed wire. 

Without a resolution to your emotional plight, you continued to cry until it drained everything out of you. Damn him, he just stood there with his arms around you; being the shield you so desperately needed. You wanted to hate him for it. 

You wanted to, but you couldn’t. 

Your sobs eventually dulled into sniffles and hiccups. After what felt like hours, your legs gave out, any strength you had when you left that bedroom was utterly spent. Daryl didn’t let you fall. You knew he wouldn’t. You weren’t tired enough to miss the way he held you up or the way he bent to sweep his arm under your knees. 

You didn’t look at him while he carried you; turned your back to him when he placed you on the cot inside his tent. The flinch when he draped the sleeping bag over you was unintentional. You hoped he’d leave. Maybe he’d go out to hunt, irritated that you invaded the space he’d built for himself. 

“Why’re ya here?”

Of course he didn’t. The universe hated you, that was abundantly clear now. “I—don’t know.”

“This cause’a hormones or whatever s’called?”

You snorted weakly, your hand working out from beneath the sleeping bag to wipe at your face. “What do you know about hormones, Daryl?”

“The book says—”

“Book?” You sat up on your forearm and twisted to look back at him. The archer looked annoyed, a decent flush spreading from his cheeks to the top of his ears. 

“Went into that town they go to for the meds an’ shit. Grabbed a, uh, book about baby stuff.” You blinked at him, earning a frown in return. “Don’t look at me like that. Yeah, I read, Y/N.”

You looked past his shoulder to where two books peeked from beneath some of his clothes. The one in question was closer, upside down and open beside the battery powered lamp. 

The Expectant Father: Facts, Tips, and Advice for Dads-to-be

The small upturn of one corner of your mouth had him shifting to shield the book from your sight. 

“How much have you read?” 

“‘Nough to know it ain’t much fun for ya some’a the time.” He wouldn’t look at you now, finding interest in a piece of grass that he’d tracked inside. You hummed, a stirring in your chest that directly correlated with the feelings that had guided you there in the first place. The difference now was that you felt oddly grounded, able to focus on a single thought or feeling. 

“Daryl?” He grunted without looking up. “Will you please move into the house?”

He sighed as though he’d been asked a thousand times. “Nah, too many people.”

“Then—can I stay out here with you?” It was your turn to find something to occupy your gaze. You settled on the sleeping bag zipper. 

“Ya need to be inside. Safer there.”

“I have a bedroom.” You weren’t sure how you felt about sharing a close space with the hunter, but you knew you needed him close. Tent or bedroom, you didn’t really care. “It’d just be me and you.” 

The subtle shift of his jaw indicated he was chewing the inside of his cheek. Maybe you could find him something like toothpicks or straws, anything to keep him from hurting himself when he was uncomfortable. 

“Why ya want me there? Ain’t like I’m miles away.”

“I feel safer with you.” Now it was you turning pink, your cheeks and neck flushing warm. 

Daryl snorted. “Ya got over half a dozen people in there.”

“They’re not you.” You countered before you could think of a better way to say it. “Look, you’re the first person I met from this group. You’ve never hurt me. I trust you to fight with me.” You ducked your head. “To fight for me. To protect me if I can’t protect myself. To protect our baby.” When you met his eyes, you realized he had never looked at you the way he was at that moment. He still had that unreadable expression that you sometimes wanted to slap off of his face, but his eyes. There was something in his eyes. 

“Lemme think ‘bout it.” He stated while rising to his feet. “Gotta meet ‘bout the kid later. Letcha know after.”

You didn’t want to drop the subject but at least he was going to consider it. Sitting up, you slumped on the cot, already feeling the need for a nap. Your energy levels had taken a major hit from your momentary lapse of sanity. Scratching at an itch on your belly, you were suddenly struck with the urge to share the progress note with Daryl. He was reading damn books on pregnancy. Surely he’d want to see. Right?

“Um, Daryl?”

“Yeah?” He’d stepped out to get his crossbow and bring it inside, continuing whatever he’d been doing. He still hadn’t asked you to leave. Maybe he was afraid you’d go batshit crazy a second time. 

“I thought you might—well, this morning—” You furrowed your brow, groaning at your inability to put it into words. Finally, you just stood and lifted your shirt, sliding your pants down to just above your pubic bone. “I, uh, can’t get into my jeans anymore thanks to Thumper.” 

Goddamn the man’s ability to maintain an expression of complete and utter stoicism. You suddenly felt self conscious, exposed. Maybe he couldn’t even see the difference. Fuck. 

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I think I should go.” You slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of the pants but that’s as far as you got before you felt Daryl’s fingertips on your knuckles. He didn’t say anything as he stepped closer, shining blue orbs zeroed in on your stomach. You tracked his movements, each step slow and deliberate until he was directly in front of you. Using the tip of his index finger, he drew a line from your sternum to just where your pants sat below the small curve of your belly. 

“Really in there, huh?” His voice was soft and raspy and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you at all. It seemed like a moment between father and child. His palm was warm when he placed it flat just below your navel. You watched his hand, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin. It tickled but you stifled the giggle that threatened. 

You opened your mouth to ask what the book said about how far along you were but when you lifted your gaze from your belly, he wasn’t looking at it at all. Deep blue pools were staring right back at you. 

You knew your breaths were coming faster and your heart was beating a tattoo against your ribs. “Daryl?” Did you imagine that or did he just glance at your lips? You brought your hand to his face, barely brushing his skin when he pulled away abruptly.

“Head on back to the house. Don’t think I’ll be movin’ in there. Better out here.” He grabbed up his weapon and turned his back to you. 

You were still standing frozen, belly exposed and hand just finally dropping to your side. “Daryl, I—”

“Go.” Daryl’s voice cracked on the word. 

You adjusted your clothing and stepped toward him. “Daryl—”

“GO!”

Eyes blown wide, you flinched back and stumbled from the tent. With energy you didn’t know you had, you ran and managed to make it to the house without falling though you stumbled on more than one occasion. You ignored the concerned calls of your name, nearly taking a tumble on the stairs, before finally disappearing into the bedroom and slamming the door. With your back against it, you tried and tried to catch your breath through the onslaught of tears. Your chest was tight, your stomach rolling. 

Trapped in your distress, you couldn’t hear the screen door slap against the wall, Daryl’s boots heading toward the stairs, or even Carol’s accusatory shout. 

“What did you do, Daryl?!”

[archangeldyke-all]

hi hi hii sweetheart. Oh my lord. Your writing is literally so good, you honestly deserve the best, mind blowing, legs shaking, knees bucking, cant even talk orgasm. I'm so sorry. someone had to say ittttt. But I was wonderingggg😋 could you maybe do a drabble with reader and sevika are selling their house because maybe they have a little fucker on the way and they need more room, so they are goin through the house one last time and sevika starts js randomly naming out all her favorite times they have had sex in each place of the house...and she recalls like Hella details not even reader remembers. (Reader has pregnant mush-brain.) But could sevika be like..."wanna find a place we haven't fucked before..?" AND ITS LIKE THE HARDEST THING TO FIND BECAUSE THEY HAVE LITERALLY DONE IT EVERYDAY. But they end up finding a spot and sevika gives reader defo on the top 10 best sex they have had in that house. Could sevika maybe have a penis or even js her strap on in this...?:3 ANYWAY I WOULD LOVE THIS BUT IF YOU CANT DO IT ITS OKAY TOO!! I love you so so much your writings literally amazing!!!

this is so cute i love it!! (and thank u so much, i'm so glad u like my stuff eeek!!<3)

men and minors dni

you should probably be feeling a little more sentimental and sad about leaving behind the house you and sevika have been living in for seven years now.

these four walls have been your home through some of the best days of your life: meeting sevika, marrying sevika, realizing you're pregnant with sevika's baby-- it all happened here. you guys built your lives together here, and overtime, they became so intertwined and connected that you've become a 'we' rather than a 'me.'

but in all honesty-- you're thrilled to be leaving.

you hate this house. the floors are slanted, the roof is leaky, the windows aren't weatherproofed, so it's freezing in the winter and boiling in the summer. you haven't been able to take a bath in the tub for three years now because there's cracks in the caulk and any water above an inch deep starts to flood the bathroom. it's a shitty house, and you've been wanting to leave for years.

sevika's always been the one to convince. it's not that she loves your house, it's that she doesn't want to put the effort into finding a new one. but, upon the two of you finding out that your family will be growing in a few short months, sevika finally relented.

and now, just ten minutes down the street from this place, you've bought a beautiful family home, big enough for the two of you, your future baby, and whatever other family members (both human and animal) that might spawn in the future.

your inspector gave it an A+, the yard is spacious, the floors are level, there's not just one, but three bathtubs,-- and the one in the main en-suite is like a hot tub-- big enough for you and your wife to fit and lounge. you're so fucking excited to move in, that you're not even a little sad to leave behind the old space.

sevika's been eyeing you with worry all day as she lugs boxes and furniture to the moving van. she's waiting for your pregnancy hormones to hit you and for you to become a blubbering mess at the thought of leaving behind your place. you can't blame her, your pregnancy hormones can and have turned you into a puddle of tears over much less. just last night you cried for thirty minutes because one of the celery stalks in the bunch you'd bought was wilted, and all his celery friends were still green and healthy, going on living without him.

but, really, you're fine.

she's not buying it.

"sevika, for the last fucking time, i'm okay!" you groan. the house is mostly empty now, just a few boxes and some lamps left. sevika's taking a snack break, one of her arms wrapped around you as she looks at you with concern.

"i'm just saying babe, we can't come back after tonight, so if you need any, like, sentimental pictures, or a good cry--"

"oh my god!" you laugh, elbowing her. "sevika, i'm okay, really. i'm so fucking excited to go, i'm so excited for our future. i'll cherish the memories this place gave us forever, but i don't really care about the place itself." you shrug.

sevika studies you carefully, and then she pouts a bit. "it doesn't make you a little sad?" she asks. you raise your eyebrow, surprised to hear your usually-so-stoic wife is feeling ...sentimental?

"what makes me sad?"

"babe, this house is the first place we ever fucked in!" she whines. you burst into laughter. sevika points to the empty bedroom behind her. "you're not sad to leave that room behind? after all the times i fucked you into incoherence in there?" she asks, her eyes wide and sparkly like she's actually a little emotional. you can't stop laughing as you reach up to cup your wife's cheek.

"honey, you're gonna be fucking me into incoherence for the rest of our lives." you remind her. sevika smiles a bit at this.

"yeah, but... we had so many good times in this house." she sighs wistfully. you chuckle, pecking her cheek.

"we did. remember when you dented the drywall with the headboard?" you ask. sevika giggles a bit, her gaze snapping back down to yours, her hand reaching around your body to start gently stroking your ever-growing belly.

"'course i remember, i had to plaster it back up myself." she chuckles. "remember when we almost started a fire when we were getting kinky with the wax?" she asks. you blink up at her, drawing a blank and pouting.

"no." you whine. "tell me, it sounds hot." you demand. your pregnancy's been blessedly healthy, but the one symptom that's hit you hard is your baby-brain. sometimes, you're just total mush in the head. sevika's been patient and kind each time. right now, she just smiles salaciously at you and presses you against the counter.

"you don't remember?" she asks. "our second anniversary, we wanted to try wax play? you got the special lotion candles and everything, wore those pretty lacy panties i ruined last year on your birthday, and i let you tie my hands up." you smile, the memory slowly coming back to you, heat building between your legs as she speaks. "anyways... it was goin' real good until i kicked over an unattended candle." she whispers.

you break into laughter-- the memory suddenly flooding back to you. "shit, i miss that blanket." you snort, remembering the way the comforter seemingly spontaneously combusted.

"you were screaming as you tried to pat out the fire, and i was tied to the fucking bed that was goin' up in flames-- i thought i was gonna fuckin' die." sevika cackles.

you snort, and kiss her cheek. "i saved you, though." you brag. she laughs.

"yeah, you did."

"c'mon, tell me another." you demand.

sevika raises an eyebrow. "another what?"

"another sex memory." you say. sevika giggles. "they're all fresh and new to me, i like remembering how fun and hot we are."

"hmm..." sevika thinks, her eyes darting around the house. she snatches your wrist and drags you to the bathroom. "i'm still pretty convinced i got you knocked up in here six months ago."

"which time?" you ask. sevika smirks, kissing your cheek and pinching your ass.

"exactly." she teases. you snort. "no, but for real, there was this one time-- i'd just finished my workout and you'd had a big glass of 'shower wine'" sevika puts this in air-quotes, teasing the habit you indulge in each night, "and i fucked you against the sink so good that you had to get right back in the shower once i was done with you. fuck, i came my fucking brains out, honey, i couldn't speak for like ten minutes afterwards." your thighs clench a bit at the memory, your stomach bursting into butterflies at the way sevika's voice has gotten all heavy. her eyes are dark when she looks over at you. "and then, boom. two weeks later you're pregnant." she says, grinning.

you giggle. "you think that was the one, huh?" you ask. she nods.

"what's your theory?"

"i always thought it happened when you fucked me on the couch while we were watching that stupid cop-buddy movie." you say. sevika laughs.

"so you remember that-- a lazy, unromantic fuck after a long weekend of both of us lounging and not showering-- but you don't remember the good ones?" she asks. you just giggle and shrug again.

"they're all good ones with you, baby." you say. sevika's teasing look melts away, something needier taking it's place. you know what she's going to ask for, so you speak before she can. "you think there's a place in the house we haven't fucked?" you ask.

sevika blinks, considering it for a second. "i dunno."

"i wouldn't wanna leave the house with a room un-fucked in, sev, that would be a real shame."

"fuck, it really would, wouldn't it?" she asks. you snort and nod.

"so?" you ask. "you think we've checked all the boxes or can you think of a place we might need to--"

"the attic. you think you can crawl up there in your state?" she inturrupts you, rubbing your stomach as she eyes the little hatch in the ceiling of the hall. you burst into laughter.

"the attic!?"

"c'mon!" she laughs, jumping up and grabbing the string, pulling the stairs down. "you go first, i'll catch you if you fall. she says, steadying your hips as she walks you up the first few steep steps. you can't stop laughing as your wife basically herds you up into the attic.

you've never been up here, execpt for the few times you've had to put a pot down during a rain storm to stop the leaks from coming down into your home. it's dingy and dusty, and you can't even stand up straight-- you have to crawl to the end of the small storage space so sevika can fit up beside you.

she seems just as disgruntled with her choice as you are, but she's determined to make it work, quickly stripping herself of her shirt and laying it down behind you as a blanket. you giggle. "lay down." she requests, holding the back of your head as you lower yourself down so you don't bonk it on any beams or bars.

you can't see her like this. you're flat on your back, and your stomach is huge. you don't know what she's planning, so it's a shock when sevika starts tugging at your pants.

you burst into giggles, lifting your hips up to help her. "what's your plan here, babe?" you ask as she starts kissing your bare legs.

she hums against your thigh, considering your question. she trails a hand up your thigh, teasing your cunt with a feather-light touch, before lifting her mouth from your leg to speak.

"'m gonna get you knocked up again." she says.

you burst into laughter, and you can see sevika lift up from between your legs to admire your smile. you grin down at her, and widen your legs. "give it your best shot, baby." you choke out between laughs.

sevika, grins, and then ducks back down to disappear beneath your tummy and bury her face in your cunt.

fuck, you're horny. the baby's been giving you crazy hormones, and while sometimes that means you can cry at sad celery, other times it means you're so insanely horny you could cum from a strong breeze.

"oh, fuck, baby!" you cry as sevika buries her tongue inside of you. she hums, reaching up to start working her fingers in the mix.

"gonna cum already?" she grunts before ducking back down and sucking your clit. you smack your hand against the dusty floor beneath you-- too round to reach down and tug her hair like you want to.

"fuck, 'm gonna cum all over your fuckin' face, sev." you whine, your brain turning to mush as you get closer. she groans against you at your words, and you take it as a sign to just let your mouth run. "'y feel so fuckin' good, 'y fuck me so good, shit, sevika, sev!" you scream as you cum.

before you can even ride out the first wave of your high, sevika's jumping on top of you to mount you so quickly that her head smacks against one of the low hanging beams in front of you.

you gasp-- still cumming and horrified at the loud "SMACK!" that rings out as you watch your wife's head collide with the beam-- then you burst into pitying, whiny giggles as sevika curses.

"shit!" she groans, reaching up to hold her forehead. you reach up to cup her face, laughing and shivering and somehow still cumming.

"are you okay?" you giggle, pulling her down to kiss the bruise already forming on her forehead. she grunts.

"i'm fine."

"liar." you giggle. you tilt her head from side to side, giving her pupils a good look as a half-assed concussion exam. "poor baby. need me to take you to the urgent care? see if you got a concussion?"

"i'm fine. just need to put my dick in you." she grunts.

you laugh, but shut your legs before she can sink into you. she huffs and glares up at you, and you pinch her chin. "remind me to check you out for real once we're done, okay?" you ask. she nods. you glare at her, knowing she won't. "sevika, you're my brain until the baby comes, i don't care if you don't want me to remember, you really gotta remind me. if you have a concussion and die because i let you fuck me instead of taking you to the hospital-- how am i supposed to explain that to the baby?" you ask.

sevika groans. "okay! okay! i know! ''re you gonna lemme fuck you or what?" she asks.

you pucker your lips, and sevika's annoyance melts as she swoops down to kiss you. you hum happily and open your legs, smiling up at your wife. "okay." you agree. sevika grins, and then she sinks into you with one smooth thrust.

you both gasp, your open mouths just a breath apart from each other as sevika starts to work her hips against yours. "fuck." you whine. sevika smirks down at you.

"fuck." she agrees.

your thighs are shaking-- her cock fills you up perfectly, like she's made for you, made for stretching you just right. each of her thrusts is accompanied by a wet smack, and you bury your face against sevika's shoulder in embarrassment as the wet sounds grow louder. she chuckles.

"you've been fuckin' leaky since i knocked you up. your cunt's so fuckin' needy, isn't it? already put a baby in it and it's just droolin' for more." she grunts against your ear. you cum the second the words leave her mouth, your nails sinking into her shoulders as you shake apart. sevika grins down at you. "fuck, it's so fuckin' cute how easy you are when you're carryin' my kid. i just put it in babe, you're already cumming?" she teases again.

you bite her neck, relishing in the way her breath hitches as you try to collect yourself, then hiking your leg up over her hips and gripping her hair in your hands. "it's your fault." you whimper as you try to catch your breath. "you knocked me up 'n now i'm fuckin' stupid and horny and-- and you feel so good." you whine.

sevika shivers on top of you, and you tug her hair harder.

"'m yours, baby." you whimper. "all yours."

that's the final nail in the coffin-- sevika screams a "fuck!" as she cums at your words. you grin, clenching around her cock and giggling at the way her arms nearly give out beneath her. "you're an evil woman." she sighs appreciatively. "i love you so much."

you laugh, and sevika ducks down to kiss your exposed neck. "'m your evil woman." sevika's dick makes one more feeble twitch inside of you at your words, the reminder that you're hers. you giggle in delight at the feeling.

"damn right you are." she mumbles, grinning.

you sigh as the euphoria of your orgasms wears off and the hard floor beneath you starts to kick in. "you might need to carry me back down the attic steps."

sevika bursts into giggles. "you might need to take me to the hospital. i can't tell if i'm seeing stars because i just came so hard or if it's a concussion."

you groan, and sevika muffles her giggles against your neck.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[yujinslovr]

babe can we get g!p dom!jennie and dubcon? 🤲🏻

a/n: bae im so sorry, i know you said dubcon and i tried to make it out to be that in some parts but i think this is for the most part just noncon😞😞

CW: noncon, kinda dubcon, somnophilia, degrading, breeding, impact play

“what movie do you wanna watch?” jennie asked from beside you on the couch, remote in hand and scrolling through netflix. 

“anything’s fine me,” you responded, leaning your head on your best friend's shoulder. 

a smile spread on your face simply enjoying the moment, you didn’t have many friends, but you’d trade the world for your friendship with jennie. you two had been friends since middle school when she defended you from a bully. jennie, being the richest and most popular girl in school, had easily stopped the bullying that was directed towards you. you would forever be grateful for her friendship. she was the person you trusted most. 

you both settled on watching blue jay, reading the description and finding it interesting. by the end of the movie you and jennie were both sobbing into each other's embrace. 

“they should’ve ended up together.“ you sobbed out through tears, a clear frown on your face as you recalled the ending that had just played. 

“she should just break up with her husband!” jennie exclaimed, leaning more into you. 

“let’s just watch my little pony.” you said, in hopes that my little pony would make you feel better. 

“let's watch rainbow rocks! i love that movie you much!” jennie said, already having forgotten about the sadness she felt. the sadness replaced with excitement to watch her favorite movie. 

a smile replaced your frown at how excited she seemed at the idea of watching rainbow rocks. you found her adorable like this, you found jennie’s childish side so endearing. when jennie was around you allowed all the walls you had surrounded yourself with to drop. she was truly your best friend, you genuinely wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you didn’t have her. 

if only you had been more wary, maybe then things would’ve been different. 

“let's go to bed now, i’m tired.” you whined, burying your head in jennie’s neck. “carry me?” you asked, jutting your bottom lip out in hopes she’d carry you to your bed. 

“fine, only ‘cause you’re cute.” jennie said, easily scooping you up and carrying you upstairs bridal style. 

when she reached the inside of your room, she threw you onto the bed, causing you to yelp. “what if i got hurt?” you pouted.

in response to this, she just pinched your cheek and said ‘well it’s a good thing you didn’t.’ the pout on your face stayed hearing her words. 

jennie jumped on the bed next to you, pulling you closer to her by the waist and burying her face in your neck. “ ‘m tired, les just sleep.” jennie mumbled into your neck. 

you giggled, the ticklish feeling of her talking making you tilt your neck to the side her head resided. not suspecting anything, you slowly felt yourself fall asleep in your closest friends embrace. the thought of jennie ever bringing harm to you never even crossed your mind. that’s why when you woke up in the middle of the night to a stinging pain in your lower region you called for jennie. you called out her name, tears stinging your eyes thinking someone had broken into your house and was now forcing himself onto you. 

when jennie’s voice called back from above you, your eyes widened. “surprised?” her voice echoed in the mostly silent room. you let out a broken sob, it was jennie. the person you trusted most in this world was forcing herself onto you. you shook your head side to side, refusing to believe this tragic reality. 

“no,no,no, it can’t be. my j-jennie’s a g-girl a-and she w-wouldnt.” you brokenly sobbed out. 

jennie’s grip on your hips tightened as her hips that were slamming into yours never stopped. an evil grin spread on her face “sorry baby, but it’s me, your jennie.” following her words, she tugged the metal chain of your bedside lamp, lighting up the room. the dim light was enough for you to see that it was jennie and that she was smiling through your torture. 

“c’mon baby, i know you want it too. just enjoy, let me take care of you.” jennie said, a hand reaching down to your clit and circling it. 

you shook your head side to side. you didn’t want this, you hated her, you hated her for taking your virginity without your permission. but if that was so why were you struggling to hold back your moans. “let me hear those pretty moans.” jennie said, reaching her other hand to your mouth to release your lip from your teeth. you whimpered at this action. 

“see, i knew you wanted this as much as i did. you hear that, you’re so fucking wet, baby. you can deny it all you want but your body’s telling me the truth.” jennie said, her finger on your clit never stopping and successfully distracting you from the pain of her splitting you open. 

“fuck baby, your squeezing my cock so hard.” she grunted out, delivering a blow to your thigh, her red handprint staining your skin. 

you let out a squeak at the impact. her bringing harm to you differing so much from her earlier once again brought tears to your eyes. how could she do this to you, the one person you trusted more than you trusted yourself. “i thought you loved me, i thought you were my friend.” you said, lip wobbling and eyes brimming with tears once again. 

“i am your friend y/n, it’s because i’m your friend that i’m doing this. i’m the only one who can treat you well. i’m doing this because i love you, i cant let anyone else fuck you baby. it’s for your own good.” punctuating each sentence with a grunt, her voice dripping with condescension. 

hearing her words you could only sob harder. where was your jennie that you would watch my little pony with, the jennie that would cook for you, the jennie that would sing to you? you could only wonder. 

“fuck baby, i’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. the moment i saw you, i knew that i had to have you. it was so worth it to wait all those years.” you wondered if she ever actually saw you as a friend, or if it was all just for sex. she only befriended you so that one day she could do this. 

“i-i hate you! I hate you, jennie kim!” you exclaimed through tears, thrashing around trying to push her off you. you knew it was no use, she carried you around regularly. you knew she was much stronger than you. you stopped your thrashing when you felt her hand come down on your face. the sound echoed throughout the room, her thrusting stopping as she grabbed your neck.

she squeezed, blocking your airways. you clawed at her hand around your neck trying to get her to let go. her thrusting started up again, this time harder and faster while choking you. “wanna fucking act up, dumb fucking whore? you really think you can escape? you think you can push me off? dumb fucking bitch.” 

“i-i’ll tell the cops. i’ll t-tell them that you raped me.” you said, her hand still at your neck and squeezing harder with every word that left your mouth. 

“and you think they’ll believe a slut like you? what’re you gonna tell them, the millionaire jennie kim raped you with her big dick? they’ll call you delusional and crazy, no one would believe you over me. you think they’d even believe i have a dick? i’ll drive you to the police station myself after this. i dare you to.” a sense of helplessness washed over you at jennie's words. she was right, she was so influential that many people probably lied about her daily. and to say she had a cock? who would believe you?

you didn’t have anyone other than her, your parents never wanted you. and with jennie, you never thought of the need for other friends. you had no one and she had everyone and everything. you were a nobody and she was somebody. you couldn’t do anything. you could only accept this horrible reality. you stopped fighting against her and just laid limp on the bed. 

“that’s it baby, enjoy it. so many people would kill to be in your place.” jennie’s hand around your neck dropped and she flipped you over, your ass in the air and head in the pillows. 

“fuck baby i’m almost there.” she grunted out, slapping your ass as she went faster. her finger circled your clit as she tried to bring you over the edge too. you hated yourself so much for the moans that slipped past your mouth. you hated this, you wanted to hate what she was doing and her. your body wasn’t aligned with your head though, you body’s response of pushing back into her making her think you wanted her more. 

“fuck, such a slut for my cock. you say you don’t want me yet here you are pushing back into me and moaning. what a slut.” you bit into the pillow trying your best to stop the whine from leaving your throat. why did your body have to have this response?

“g-gonna fucking breed this slutty hole of yours, fill you up with my babies.” your eyes widened at this, a kid would ruin your life. but then again, could your life get any worse than it was right now? 

“p-please jennie, please dont. you know i can't afford an abortion, please jennie, please don't.” you pleaded, you didn't even have insurance. jennie was the only reason you were even able to have a place to stay. 

“baby, even if you somehow had the money for it i would never allow you to get an abortion.” you could only cry out your frustrations, you were ruined, your life was over. 

“f-fuck here it c-comes!” jennie moaned out her voice increasing in pitch as her warm semen flooded your cunt. 

you couldn't help but let yourself unravel as well, the feeling of her warm load in you sending you over the edge along with her. you felt jennies hand caressing your stomach as she smiled into your shoulder. “I can't wait for you to be my cute little pregnant housewife.” your body laid flat on the bed when jennie let go of your hips, your tears soaking the pillow. 

this was your life now. 

[starlost-mochi-x]

reader x changbin with some angst involving readers birthday (like people forgetting) and binnie comforting them

here you go anon <3 also i couldn't find matching header pics but whatever (don't look at it for too long and it'll be fine)

lamplight - seo changbin

pairing: seo changbin x reader

summary: your friends forget your birthday and changbin finds out

genre: fluff, idol! au, angsty, reader cries a lot, sad boi hours, not proofread as per usual

a/n: comments, likes, reblogs appreciated <3 divider from @wonjuii

You huff and slide down the closed door, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes. The bedroom is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the lamp in the corner, and a cast of warm, golden light spills onto the surfaces in the room.

It's a cool night, it's raining heavily outside, and Changbin is home with you. Your schedules are free and you're off work for the weekend too. These combined things should have made you happy, but instead you felt as if you were the most insignificant, useless person in the entire world.

Unimportant, unappreciated, unloved.

You can hear Changbin pacing down the hallway, muttering something frantically to himself in Korean. You know he's worrying about whether he did something wrong, and it only makes you feel worse; that he's upset, and that he was trying to take care of you when you got home, but you had shoved him aside and slammed the bedroom door behind you without so much as a hello to him.

You were just so upset about how your friends forgot your birthday and it made you forget about the one person who cared more about you than anyone else in the entire world.

A fresh wave of guilty tears pools up in your eyes and you clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs, squeezing your eyes shut as if it'll somehow alleviate the crushing pain in your chest. How could you have hurt him like that?

There's a gentle knocking at the door and you jolt, accidentally slamming your elbow back into the solid surface. Groaning quietly, you cradle your arm in your hand and try to quieten your crying.

"Jagiya?" Changbin asks timidly from the other side of the door. "Please open the door, I can hear you crying."

You sniff and wipe a sleeve across your nose, scrunching your face up in mild disgust at the wet trail it leaves behind. "I'm not crying."

You hear a gentle sigh and the sound tweaks at your heartstrings, knowing Changbin can see right through your feeble, defenseless lie.

"Jagi, I could hear you crying from down the hallway. I didn't mean to make you upset, I just want to hold you. Please open the door?"

You sigh sadly and sniff one more time before crouching and opening the door. Changbin's knelt on the other side, the line of the threshold the only thing separating you two. You look up at him, feeling like a watery, pathetic mess, and all Changbin does is smile softly, the action making your heart flutter even through your sadness.

You lean forward and crash into his arms.

He holds you like that for a while, only moving to sit against the bed with you on his lap. He doesn't say anything, just quietly shushes you and rocks you, stroking your hair and wiping your tears. After your sobs quieten down, you look up at him.

"I'm sorry I brushed you off when I came home, it's just-"

He shushes you gently. "It's okay, I could tell you had a bad day."

You shake your head violently, feeling regretful and guilty. Changbin cups your cheeks with his warm, slightly calloused hands and kisses the tip of your nose.

"What happened, jagi?" he murmurs.

You sigh. "My friends forgot my birthday."

Changbin laughs incredulously, shifting you in his lap and sitting more upright. "Who dares forgot my jagiya's birthday, huh? I want names!"

"Binnie-"

"Jagi, if they forgot your birthday then they're not your friends, okay? Dump them," he settles back against the bed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

You frown, sniffing quietly. "But didn't you forget Minho's birthday a while ago? How come he hasn't dumped you?"

Changbin laughs again, the high-pitched cackle making your mouth tweak at the corners. "Because we're in the same group with the guys," he flexes his muscles, "and besides, I have appearances to keep up with."

You giggle and lean against his chest. Changbin leans down and kisses your forehead, speaking quieter but with a grin.

"Speaking of Minho and the guys, they're coming in half an hour to celebrate, so go and get dressed and look all pretty, okay? I bought you something, it's hanging on the back of the bathroom door."

You shoot bolt upright in disbelief.

Changbin simply grins. "Happy birthday, jagiya."

a/n: awwww

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Can you write a fic were it’s reader asking Harry if he would still love her if she were a worm 😭😂 I just find it so hilarious

I wrote this in like 10 minutes. Hehe, it was fun! I'm so sorry it took me so long to respond to your ask. Hopefully you're still around and you like what I wrote for ya. Love you all 🩷

Sitting in bed, your phone in hand, you look over to the man beside you. He's sitting comfortably against the headboard, his tattoos canvased across his bare torso, and a book in hand. His bottom lip is pinched by his index finger and thumb, and his brow is furrowed in deep though as he absorbs the words on the page in front of him.

Your gaze flickers down to your phone for a moment, and you smile, trying hard not to giggle with the knowledge of what your plan is.

"Hey, H?" Your voice is quiet, and solemn, hoping you're letting off a more serious demeanor.

"Yes, love?" He responds, lowering his current read and turning his head over in your direction.

"Umm, well, I was just wondering..." You start off, wondering if your hesitation is persuasive. "Would you still love me... if I was a worm?"

"Why? Planning some major life change, are you?"

"Would you?"

"Look, when I said we should spend more time in the garden, I didn't mean-"

"Harry!" You giggle, unintentionally breaking the facade you were determined to hold up against his charm.

"Is this because I teased you about your dance moves yesterday? Because I think this is taking it a little too far." He smiles, twisting to face you and lifting his palms to squish them against your face. "You don't have to turn into a worm for me to love the way you wiggle..."

"Will you please answer the question."

"Well, I'd be very sad if you were a worm..." He replies, a mischievous smirk instantly digging into his cheek. "I don't want you to sleep in the dirt..."

"Oh, just forget it." You roll your eyes. Clearly he knows what you're trying to do, which means he's not going to give you a straight answer.

"Plus, if I was a bluebird..." He utters, pressing his lips gently against yours for a quick kiss. "It wouldn't turn out very well for you, little worm..."

"You're horrible." You pout, pushing away, turning your lamp off, scooting down, and pulling the covers right up under your chin. All in a false tantrum that he only chuckles at.

Harry slides over next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling his face into your neck.

"I'd rather us both be rabbits."

"What? Why rabbits?"

"So we can fuck like bunn-"

"Oh my god, Harry!"

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔. ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 you need aaron, he's there for you as soon as he can be

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 aaron hotchner x gn!reader (no use of gendered descriptions) 𖦹 implied that reader is shorter than hotch𖦹 aaron hotchner, the man you are 𖦹 guys... new hyperfixation 𖦹 hes so cute 𖦹 fluff☺︎☺︎☺︎☺︎

༻¨*:· words ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 789

"Hotch?" You softly sob into the phone.

"L/n? What are you doing up so late?" His tone was nothing but stern, and it only encouraged the tears.

"Sorry, I just," Your words are interrupted by a small hiccup, "I just— Hotch, I'm sad."

His frown deepens, "I'm sorry. Is there," He takes a deep breath, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Come over?" 

And the plea in your voice makes him weak, and suddenly, he's throwing on a shirt and running to grab his keys. He doesn't even realize he's hung up the phone.

You cry harder at the sound of the dial tone. "He doesn't care," You repeatedly whisper to yourself, sobs growing louder with each repetition. 

Hotch is speeding, badge in his pocket in case he gets pulled over, but he doubts he will.

You clutch onto the stuffie Aaron won for you at the arcade in a pizza joint you dragged him to after a particularly stressful case. You remember it clear as day. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"C'mon, Aaron," You whine, "Just try the claw machine?"

He looks at you, all traces of amusement vacant from his icy face, "L/n, no." 

"But," You pout, "I have the coins for it. Just," You stick your hand into your pocket—tongue poking out of your mouth—and clumsily grab two quarters, "Here."

He shakes his head, but he grabs the coins anyway, and he can't help but smile at the sight of you gleaming.

"C'mon," You grab his hand and lead him to the claw machine.

He pulls you close when you get there, "Which one do you want, baby?" He whispers into your hair. 

You look up at him and smile that adorable smile he loves, "That one." You point, finger pressing against the glass.

"If there's a murder here, they're going to find you guilty with that fingerprint there."

"Aaron," You whine, "Don't be mean."

"Why do you insist on holding my hand while I do this?" He quirks his brow, "I need both my hands, sweetheart."

You pout and slowly let go of his hand.

Aaron slips the coins in and positions the claw right above the stuffie.

"Press the button, Hotch!" You urge. 

He walks around to the side, analyzing the direct position of the claw.

"Aaron," You whine, "Press the button! You're running out of time!"

He returns to the front, adjusting the claw again, "Still got thirteen more seconds, baby."

"Thirteen seconds? Aaron, that's barely any time at all."

He doesn't take his eyes off the machine, "Thirteen seconds is a lot of time. You saved that boy in approximately ten."

"But Aaron, that was a life or death situation!"

His eyes flick towards yours, "So is this."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You hear footsteps, and you feel the adrenaline rush through your veins. You cover your mouth and sit up in fear.

The door knob rattles, and you remember that you're left defenseless. Your attacker would be able to hear you if you got off your bed and you curse yourself for not splurging on the nicer bedframe like Hotch kept telling you to. You never did like listening to him; he always hated it, rolling his eyes and shaking his head when you defy his requests.

The door opens, and you scream, curling into yourself.

"L/n, it's okay," He croons, "It's just me."

You frown, "You scared me."

He walks over to your bed, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Can I sit down?"

You nod, still frowning.

"Actually, let me turn the light on first." 

You're worried he'll turn the overhead light on, but he knows you better. He turns on the small lamp on your bedside table, takes one look at your tear-stained face, and deepens his frown.

He sits next to you, "What's wrong?"

"Had a bad dream," You're close to crying again.

"Aww," He hums and rubs your back, "'M sorry, baby." 

You lean into him, "It's okay."

"Should we lay down?" He asks, and before he knows it, you're practically pulling him down. 

He lands with a laughing huff, "I'm considering that a yes."

You snuggle into his arms and nod.

He holds you like his life depends on it, smoothing down your hair and wiping off your tears, "What was your dream about? If you're okay sharing."

You look up at him, "You... you were mean to me. Called me," You sniffle, "Called me stupid. Told me I shouldn't be working with you guys."

He pulls you closer, "I would never say that, baby. You're more than bright enough to be working with us. In fact, we wouldn't be able to do half the things we do without you."

"Aaron?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

He kisses the top of your head, "Anything for you, honey."

THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!! if you enjoyed, please reblog!!!! it would make my year <3

@mrsaluado @zvdvdlvr @ssahotchnerr

[holylulusworld]

The Widow (1)

Summary: You trust no one. Not since they got your husband killed.

Pairing: TFaTW!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions death of a loved-one, the reader is under protection, bitchy reader, arguments, grumpy Bucky, angst

The widow masterlist

The Widow - Prologue

You wake from another nightmare, screaming at the top of your lungs. When you sit up, you clutch the blanket to your chest and try to remember what your therapist told you.

“One,” you count. “Two,” you sniffle. “This is shit.” You grab the lamp from the nightstand and throw it at the man stepping inside your room.

“Whoa, watch where you are throwing your lamps,” Bucky grumbles. He dodged your attack just in time to watch the lamp hit the wall next to him. “I came here to check on you, not to get hit by a lamp.”

He tugs his gun away, looking around the room. “What happened? Why did you scream? A spider? A bug?”

“Get out,” you look away to not show him the unshed tears in your eyes. “That’s none of your business. I didn’t want you to come here and save me. Go back to sleep.”

Bucky watches you run your hands over your arms. He knows the signs of nightmares all too well. Sleep is not his friend. Most of the time he wakes from another nightmare. Skin sweat-slicked and with a racing heart.

“I’m outside if you need anything.”

“Sure-“ you quip. “Just like the other guys promising to protect me and Ransom if he tells them everything he knows about his former partner.” You pucker your lips. “Now he’s dead and gone all because of them.”

“He’s dead because he was a criminal.”

“Ransom wasn’t a criminal,” you throw the blanket away and slip out of the bed to walk toward the second nightstand. You grab the lamp and throw it at Bucky. This time you hit him square in the chest. “Get out! I dare you to say one more word about my husband.”

Your lips quiver and you clutch your hands to your chest. No. You won’t cry in front of this stranger. He’s no better than the others.

“You should practice your aim,” he looks at the broken lamp on the ground. “I hope you know, it’s your job to keep the house clean.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you, doll!” He grunts and storms toward the door. “If you want to stay alive, stop screaming for nothing.”

“Asshole!”

The door slams shut, leaving you angry and sad. Why does everyone believe Ransom was a bad person? He made one single mistake.

Your husband trusted the wrong person and ended up laundering money for a mafia boss, not a businessman in trouble.

“I see she’s still alive,” Sam grins when you glare his way. You only lifted your eyes from the magazine you pretended to read to watch the two men. “Anything to report, Bucky?”

“She threw two lamps at me,” Bucky grunts. “I think we should handcuff her. Maybe a gag will help too.”

“Fuck you,” you snarl at Bucky. “I didn’t ask you to babysit me. Ransom is dead. I know nothing about his business. So, let me go. I’ll figure things out from here.”

“No can do,” the super-soldier glares at you. “Why don’t you try to act like a decent person?”

“Why don’t you choke?” You flash him your best-faked smile. “I hope all of you getting my Ransom killed rot in hell.”

“Bucky, a word?” Sam jerks his head toward the kitchen. “We need to talk about a few things. Especially her husband’s death, and his business.”

“I can tell you everything about my husband’s death,” you snarl. “Your fine agents told his former business partner where to find us. He died protecting me. Ransom was more man than you could ever be!”

“Bucky, don’t,” Sam holds his friend back. “Please just drop it. She’s…hurt…and scared.”

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I’m annoyed by his presence.”

Bucky follows Sam out of the room. He huffs and balls his metal hand into a fist. “If you don’t find someone else to babysit her, I cannot guarantee she’ll be alive at the end of the week…”

“Bucky, I know she’s driving you up the walls, but her husband died in her arms.” Sam places pictures of your dead husband on the table. “Five bullets hit him, and he still managed to protect Y/N.”

“Hmm…” Bucky glances at the pictures.

“She’s traumatized but won’t admit it.” Sam gives his friend a stern look. “She has nightmares and mood swings. This has nothing to do with you or your presence. Y/N watched her husband die and held him in her arms. She was like a feral animal, biting and scratching the agents when they tried to part her from her dead husband.”

Bucky is silent for a moment. He’s still not convinced that you and your husband aren’t bad people. “He did business with the wrong people. It’s his fault.”

Sam bites his tongue. “Bucky, just protect her. Y/N doesn’t deserve to die because of her husband’s mistakes. Remember, she’s an innocent bystander.”

“Right.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you repeat his name twice. “I knew I heard the name before.” You chuckle darkly. “The man telling me that my husband was evil did unspeakable things himself. You killed innocent people hiding behind a different name.” You sneer. “Only because you don’t call yourself the Winter Soldier anymore doesn’t change your past.”

Bucky is frozen to the spot. His past can’t be undone, but he tried to make amends as best as he could. Now you look at him like he’s some kind of monster. You out of all the people dare to hold his past against him.

“What? Cat got your tongue. Doesn’t feel good when someone judges you only because they read shit about your past, huh? Well, shit darling. I won’t stop digging out your past, babysitter. If you want me to stop, go and leave me alone. Send someone else to watch over me!” 

“How did she find out about me and my past?” Bucky hisses at Sam. “I thought she got no access to a phone, TV, or the internet.”

“I can read, and have a very good memory,” you smirk darkly at Bucky as you walk inside the kitchen. “You didn’t live under a rock over the last years. I saw you more than once on TV. The hair is shorter now, though.”

“Y/N,” Sam tries to stop you and his friend from arguing again. “What the soldier did wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He got brainwashed and…”

You raise your hand to stop Sam from arguing with you. “Ransom didn’t become a criminal on free terms either,” you grit your teeth. “He tried to do business and make some money. My husband didn’t know he got himself into trouble by doing business with that monster.”

“He’s still a criminal,” Bucky grunts. “He did all of this for money.”

“Says the man claiming to be innocent, even though you killed hundreds of people. They threatened to kill Ransom and me if he didn’t do as they said. He was a victim, you were just…” you huff and turn to leave. “A monster hiding behind your friend Captain America.”

You know it’s not fair to call Bucky a monster. All the things you read about him tell you that he was a victim.

You just can’t bring yourself to admit that he was a victim too while he treats you like shit, and keeps on telling you your husband was a criminal…

The widow (2)

Tags in reblog.

[peterman-spideyparker]

Halo (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Howdy, folks! In my slow sift through and re-editing process of fics on my laptop and in my notebooks, I've re-come across this fic. It's probably been written for, what, a year and a half? Two years? and I've waffled on it because I didn't know if I should post it. It's a continuation of Angel, but if you've read it and want to stay sitting in the angst, you can. It's still angst, but, it might make you feel better? Idk. I cried writing it and then every time I've re-read it, and I think id I tried to write more, I'd be a vicious cycle of tears. Not my best editing, but. Enjoy!

Summary: Matt is grieving your loss hard even months after your death. It's like a non-stop film reel in his mind. He's wracked with despair, and ready to submit when his angel comes to his rescue.

Warnings: ANGST (dead dove, do not eat), talk of death, wounds (stab wound, gunshot wound, blood--canon typical violence), a lot of crying, hurt comfort?, Matt has a lot of self hatred in this from guilt

Other Characters: Father Lantom, Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 1,635

Everything is too loud and too quiet at once. It’s been like that for the last couple of months since you died. His surroundings have been simultaneously amplified and dampened. He doesn’t know how to function. He hasn’t been able to figure out what life means without you. He doesn't feel as if he's living anymore.

Matt can feel when Father Lantom sits down next to him. He's been coming to church more often, as if his desperate prayers will change the past and bring you back to him. He can feel every last bit of the polyblend fibers in Father Lantom's black clothes, but it just feels like static to him. An indistinct haze. But even for as hazy as it is, for as much sensation as it is, it just makes Matt feel more numb. He tunes out Father Lantom’s words, and only when he feels his hand on his back does Matt actually pay attention to what his priest is saying.

“I was playing pool with a man once—a unique fellow with an insightful mind,” the priest starts with a breath. “He imparted words to me that were so incredibly wise it made a priest speechless. It was a simple question: ‘What is grief, if not love preserving?' As I let that sink in, he continued. He said that all those feelings—the anger, the sadness, even the hollowness, everything that brings a person to tears—that is all the unspoken love that you still have for someone. It’s a good thing, Matthew. Love . . . Love isn’t something you switch on and off like a lamp. It’s shouldn’t be—if it is, it isn’t love.”

Matt sits in the pew, his heart heavy, hurting, and crumbling.

“I keep thinking I’m going to find her at home,” Matt finally sniffles, his voice trembling. “I keep hoping that this is a nightmare and I’m going to wake up and we’ll be in bed and she’ll hold me the way she does after I have a bad dream. That she’ll make every bad thing I’m feeling go away.”

Father Lantom puts a careful hand in Matt’s back, and it’s enough to have him break down. 

“I miss her so much,” Matt weeps in the empty church. “I-I can’t—I don’t know what to do.”

“Matthew . . .”

“She died in my arms,” he sobs. “I couldn’t—I should’ve—I need her. I’m lost without her.”

Father Lantom knows there’s nothing more to say as Matt lets his grief take center stage, feeling the pain course over him in violent wave after violent wave rather than pushing it down. 

This is it, he thinks. This is where he dies, on some random rooftop.

And you know what? He couldn’t care less. Being a lawyer, fighting this fight, day and night, it’s pointless. How can he try helping others when he couldn’t help the person he cared about most? When she, dying in his arms, was comforting him? This is what he deserves—it’s better than what he deserves, he thinks. This is a relatively clean death—a little bullet hole in his flesh. You were all but sliced in two. He deserves to be torn to bits for what he let happen to you . . . He deserves so much worse. But, as he lays there, bleeding out, all he can thing about is how he never deserved you. How you would have been so much better off without him.

How you’d be alive had the two of you never met.

“Matty?” he hears a gentle voice say. “Matty, I’m gonna help you sit up.”

No . . . This isn’t happening. The voice, he knows it. He thought he’d never hear it again. 

(Y/N). 

“God, you’re heavy,” you grunt as you help him sit upright, a careful, warm hand over where he was shot as the other is firm on his back. 

“Wha—Huh?” he starts to groan, panic quickly starting to bubble. 

“Matt, calm down, it’s okay,” you urge. “I’m here, angel, don’t worry. You’re okay.”

He sputters your name in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

He feels how your fingers run through his hair and down to a loving grip on his forearm. 

“Hey, Matty.”

“Sweetheart, wha—?”

“Matt, I know it’s a lot. I know. But it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“H-How?” he asks with tears in his eyes. “How?”

He listens to you let out a sigh, how your brows furrow, trying to find the best answer to his question. “Divine intervention?”

“Y-You died, (Y/N).” He smells the salt of your tears in the air. “You died in my arms. Why didn’t you hold on?” 

“I tried,” you tell him. “I wanted to. You were so scared Matt. God, I—.” You sniffle and bite your lip, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I would give anything to forget the pain on your face, Matty. But then I wouldn’t have been able to see my favorite person.” You wipe the tears away from his cheeks. “Matty, I’m not gone. I’m with you always, you know that, right?”

“I couldn’t save you.”

“You saved the city and the world from a frightening reality. You’ve done it so many times, angel.”

“That doesn’t change what I failed to do.”

“Forever the Catholic—full of guilt.” You cup his cheek with your hand. “Matty, look at me. You are the best thing in the world that ever happened to me, you understand that? You made me feel so loved, so cherished, so safe, and so valued. I never felt more myself than being with you. Everything that you made me feel . . . Matt, that’s love. That’s what love is, what it does, and what it feels like. And I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer to have you realize that and feel the same.”

“I did, sweetheart, I felt it.” 

“Then you need to remember that feeling and let it guide you. I want you to be happy, Matt. I don’t want you to be sad forever. I can’t have that.”

“I miss you so much. I don’t think that’s ever going to stop.”

“It’s only a beautiful thing. It’s all the unexpressed love. We never get enough time with each other, Matt. But the best part of it is, Matt? We’re going to see each other again. It’s gonna be a while, but when we do?” Matt can taste the salt in your tears. “Be there as much as possible for one another, Matt. Okay? Don’t shut people out, don’t push them away because you want to protect them or because you don’t feel like you deserve happiness, because you will mourn that time you lost. Open up your heart again. It’s one of the most beautiful things you can share.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” he cries as he holds onto you. “I don’t want to go back.”

“You know you don’t mean that.”

“I can’t . . . I miss waking up next to you. It keeps getting harder. It’s all crushing in on me.” He sniffles. “The apartment is loosing your smell.”

Tears roll down your cheeks at his distress. “Matt . . .”  you soothe. “I miss you more than I can say. There are absolutely no words in any language to tell you how much my heart hurts that I’m not physically with you every day.”

“Then let me stay. Don’t make me go back. Please let me stay here with you.”

“I can’t make that decision. If . . . Matty, I know you know that you’re not finished on Earth.”

“Angel . . .”

“Matty?” you say softly. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Tears stream down his face as he looks at you, his pupils locking onto yours for the first time. His hand carefully cups your cheek, afraid to touch you—like you’ll disappear. He gently touches your hair next, tucking it behind your ear before his thumb traces over your nose and cheek, finally brushing against your lips.

“(Y/N)?” he croaks.

“Hi, Matty.”

Holding your face in his hands, he leans in for the kiss of a lifetime, pouring every ounce of love he has into in.

“H-How . . .? I don't . . . You’re more beautiful than I could have ever imagined,” he sniffles as he moves to rest his forehead against mine. “God . . . You’re just . . . You’re here. You’re perfect.”

“Those are some super senses, huh?” you joke with a wet chuckle as you rest your foreheads on one another.

“I love you so much, (Y/N). I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

“Pull through for me, Matt,” you plea. “You’re not done yet, my angel. I know you’re not.”

“You’re gonna be with me, huh?”

“Forever and always, every step of the way. And hey—I better not see you again until it’s your time. Actually your time.”

“Promise,” he says with a soft smile, holding your face in his hands as he looks at you with tears in his eyes, desperately trying to memorize every last detail in your face.

“Love you, angel.”

“Love you more.”

He feels the burning, piercing pain in his ribs before anything else. Then, it’s the dried blood on his skin. Foggy’s muttering to himself in the kitchen about how he needs to find better friends that don’t dress up and prance around at night in ways that bring them two steps away from death.

When Matt’s eyes flutter open into a darkness he’s become accustomed to, tears begin to sting at his eyes as a fresh, strong whiff of your scent hits his nose in his apartment as if you’re walking by him like you’d done so many times before.

Forever and always.

While it hurts, Matt knows from that point on things will start to get a little easier. You're here with him, after all.

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[seokmthw]

after midnight | sung hanbin

⇢ pairing: hanbin x afab reader

⇢ warnings: best friends to lovers, fluff, a smidge of angst if you squint, first time smut, marking, oral (female receiving), explicit language, overall extremely soft

⇢ word count: 2.5k

⇢ synopsis: late night confessions with your best friend lead to things getting heated before he leaves for a few months.

⇢ note: ohhh i absolutely love how this turned out :( it's something i had partially written way back when, but never finished, and i figured that since i've been so inspired to write lately, i would! i hope you all enjoy, this is definitely one of my favorites! friendly reminder that i only write smut with afab readers because it's what i'm most comfortable with!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

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never in your life did you think you would find yourself in this position. 

to be fair, this kind of situation itself wasn’t uncommon; you were laying in your best friend’s bed with blankets strewn about and your heads propped up by millions of pillows. but something was slightly different this time in that it would be the last you’d see of hanbin for months.

zb1 had announced a world tour shortly after their debut, which would require them to travel to many different countries, and could take a bit of time if there were setbacks or possible reschedules of shows. to say you didn’t take the news of the tour well was an understatement, even if you were happy the group was proving to be successful enough to be able to travel to a plethora of different countries just after debut. 

you didn’t think you’d have to be away from him for so long, especially so soon, but now the two of you were stuck spending the last night together watching a drama in silence, the only light in the room coming from the tv and a small lamp that was on hanbin’s desk. you’d spent your entire lives in the company of one another and now to break that record for what felt like an eternity filled you to the brim with dread. 

sighing, you mumbled, “hanbin?”

he hummed questioningly in response, his body shifting onto his side so he could face you while you talked. 

“this fucking sucks.”

hanbin scoffed, placing his hand onto his chest in mock offense, “i think the show is quite funny, myself.”

you offered him the faintest of smiles you could muster, closing your eyes and sucking in a long, deep breath to prevent your voice from trembling as you spoke, “you know what i’m talking about.”

his facade dropped quickly, his eyes filling up with a deep sadness as he threw his arm over your shoulder comfortingly, “i know it does. but just think; i’ll be back in no time and you’ll have to deal with me everyday again for the rest of your life. besides, you know i’ll facetime you whenever i can.”

“i know but,” you paused, not knowing what to say next. you’d had a constant battle within yourself over whether or not you should just admit your feelings for him, but you always chickened out at the last minute. you shook your head, “nevermind. you’re right, i think i’m just being too selfish with you.”

“too selfish? i don’t really think there’s such a thing when it comes to you and i. you saw me, i was equally a mess when i had to break the news to you. hysterics, really,” he imitated himself sobbing and you silently cursed him for always being able to make you laugh. 

“well, yes,” you agreed, finally turning to face him, though instantly regretting your actions the moment you opened your mouth again, “but it’s something more than that and i’m not sure how to feel.”

he cocked his head to the side in confusion, “i don’t think i’m understanding what you’re trying to get at.”

“me either,” you replied, your voice quiet, “and that’s the scary part.”

what’s worse is that most times you felt as though you could read hanbin like an open book, but tonight you really couldn't tell what was going on behind his eyes. maybe it was the reflection of the tv off of them that put your mind into overdrive. without any thought, your hand found its way to his face, gently cupping his cheek as your thumb traces various different little shapes on his skin.

"can you please just say it already? before i have to?" hanbin spoke freely, viciously tearing you from your thoughts.

“what?”

his eyes fluttered shut in response to your gentle touch, “you’re never like this. just tell me what’s on your mind. you know i will never, ever judge you.”

“hanbin, i-“ you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to you, which only made you panic even more, “i don't know why i didn't tell you sooner. i mean god, it's been years of deciding when the right time would be to do it, if the time were to ever come at all, and now i feel like a dumbass because tomorrow i won't even have you anymore. i’ve just realized that among all the chaos and fans throwing themselves in your direction, i realized that everything i have ever wanted  could have been you this whole time, and i hate that you leaving is what has led to this.”

you paused for a moment before starting back in with your monologue, “it’s to the point i can’t imagine my life without you, even if it’s just for the few months you’ll be away for tour. i mean, not even 5 hours go by and you’re getting a facetime call from me an-”

your erratic breathing was causing your words to run together into a giant mess of mumbling and not knowing where you were going next, but it was all cut off in an instant when hanbin leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours gently. it was beyond quick, and if you blinked you’re sure you would have missed it, but it’s all you ever needed.

“i get it,” he said after a moment of silence.

“you didn’t even let me get to my point,” you sheepishly laughed, pink taking over the expanse of your cheeks.

he smiled softly, taking this time to speak, “don’t worry, you got your point across. i’ve known for a while now, actually, but i’ve had my own doubts, just like you. i didn’t want to hurt our friendship either so i just tried my best to ignore it. figured i would rather have you as my dearest friend than not in my life at all in the event that i was reading our whole situation completely wrong.”

he paused for a moment, gauging your reaction before he began to talk again, “when you said it could have been me this whole time, that’s when i understood. you have no idea how many times i’ve thought the exact same thing.”

another silence fell between you after that, but you were both thinking the same thing. it was comfortable, as it always was beside him, but you couldn't help but feel like you were under a microscope with how hanbin’s eyes were scanning your face. a sad smile spread on your face as you closed your eyes for the nth time that night, not bearing to look at him. 

"what’s the matter?" he asked, reaching his hand out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze softening the moment you leaned into his touch.

“saying goodbye is gonna be a lot harder now.”

“it could always be a ‘see you later until i get back’ kind of thing, if that’s what you want” hanbin offered, a smile now blooming beautifully across his face.

"of course that's what i want," you joked, "but i’m going to have to come to terms with this. you gotta get out there and show everyone what sung hanbin is made of."

"i love you," he answered. your brain wasn't given enough time to process those words before he continued nonchalantly, "i’ll be able to call you whenever the time zones allow. it’ll be like we were never apart."

“i-i really hope so,” you could feel your brain malfunctioning, “and i love you, too.”

"really?" he asked, being suddenly energized by your words. he sat up a little, supporting himself on his forearms, now leaning over you a bit with a cheeky grin, "say it again."

you couldn't help but laugh looking up at him, his eyes shining brighter than the stars with that eager expression on his face, "yes, really. i love you, hanbin. i always have."

when he kissed you this time, it wasn't like the first, or the second or the third. this time, it felt like everything you had waited for all those years was finally to its end and you had both done enough waiting. your arms reached up and found their way behind his neck, bringing him closer to you. his moved from their relaxed position beside you to your hips and the delicate touch of his fingers on your skin felt like fire, sending a wave of sparks all through your body.

he began to pepper kisses all along your jaw and neck, his fingers toying with the hem of your t-shirt, “can i…?”

“yeah,” you stuttered, shifting upwards momentarily to help him remove the fabric from your body. once your top was discarded somewhere in the mess of covers surrounding you, there was a short silence.

"you’re stunning," hanbin said, voice barely above a whisper as his eyes took in all of you.

you swatted at his chest, “oh, stop!”

you could feel your face grow warm at the next thing you managed to squeak out, “hey, i’ve never… done anything like this before.”

“i know.”

“should i be insulted?”

hanbin laughed before leaning down and hushing your babbling with his lips once again. "you know that's not what i meant. besides, would i not have been the first person you told?"

“you got me there,” you giggled, though you got a little more serious as you asked, “what about you?”

“never, you’re my first as well.”

you didn’t know why you had thought differently about him, even if his previous point was accurate to your friendship. while you were always each other’s number one, he was definitely the more social of the two of you since he was an idol and interacted with fans and his labelmates a lot, so you had just assumed he had gotten around a couple of times. but now, realizing you both were in the same boat, it made you feel a lot more comfortable. 

you took your turn grabbing the bottom of his shirt and lifting it over his head, a soft, giddy smile adorning your lips as you discarded it onto the floor beside his bed. he pecked your lips gently, slowly moving down your jaw and neck to just behind your ear, gently sucking to leave a mark only he was able to see. your back arched a bit, a quiet gasp falling from your mouth.

his hands worked to unbutton your jeans, mouth now settling on one of your nipples and sucking lightly, eliciting a moan from your lungs as he did so. you shimmied out of your pants, allowing hanbin to toss those into the pile of your clothes already on the floor with a soft thud. hanbin peppered kisses along the expanse of your chest and slowly down to the waistband of your underwear, eyes peering up at you through his lashes, “are you sure this okay?”

you nodded, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes, “positive.”

upon hearing your words of approval, he hooked his finger beneath them, gently pulling them off of your legs and exposing everything to him, a faint smile on his lips as he began to press kisses along the insides of your thighs, completely avoiding where you desperately wanted him. he hummed softly, littering a few bruises across your delicate skin before he inched closer and closer to your core, finally licking an experimental stripe up your slit. 

a gasp slipped past your lips as he did, a shudder racing down your spine at the feeling. his tongue slowly began to work on your clit, causing your eyes to flutter shut and back to arch ever so slightly off of the bed, fingers threading through his hair and tugging gently on the roots each time he sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your body. 

he hummed softly against you, the vibration beginning to make your legs shake, and you were so close to reaching your high you could almost taste it, but hanbin ripped himself away from you, chin glistening with your arousal as he did. you almost felt embarrassed at the whine you let out at the absence of his touch, but he quickly reassured you that you’d have all of him in just  few minutes.

you blushed, stuttering as you asked, “do you…”

“no, no, we can save that for another time, yeah? i want to make tonight about making you feel good,” his gentle smile was enough to reassure you that he was okay with you not returning the favor, but it certainly gave you something to look forward to once he returned back from tour. 

hanbin made quick work of discarding his sweatpants and boxers, his cock springing free and very obviously hard from the previous events. you couldn’t help but stare, worried about what was to come, and whether or not you would be in a severe amount of pain. he noticed as he rolled a condom down his shaft, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “we can stop here, if you want. i don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“it’s okay, i want to, really,” you replied, hoping the honesty lacing your words was enough. he nodded, positioning himself over you, one arm bearing all of his weigh and the other one lining himself up with you, tip teasing your core. 

he pressed his forehead to yours, glittering brown eyes staring deep into your own, “if it’s too much, please don’t be afraid to tell me stop.”

they say your first time should be saved for someone very special. you had never really thought about it before, the concept of it all just not ever being at the front of your mind, but being there with hanbin, you understood why it was that people believed such things.

you weren't sure if it was the way hanbin touched you as if you were made of glass, or the way he kissed your pain away as he slipped inside of you for the first time, or if it was the way he couldn't go more than a minute without reminding you that he loved you; but it made you feel that in all the time you had spent with him, nothing had ever felt as right as this. every experience, every beautiful moment you had shared together, everything felt like it was building up to this. the reciprocated love that you were sharing couldn't be compared to anything you had ever felt before.

when all was said and done, hanbin grabbed a blanket to cover your bodies instead of searching in the dim light of the tv for your clothes. his chest was warm and you loved the idea of laying against it, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

part of you expected things to feel different, and in a way they did, but this was the path that the two of you had chosen together. you believed that as long as he was beside you, you were on the right one. you believed in hanbin, and he believed in you, too.

[formulapierre]

Timezone | Charles Leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x y/n!reader

prompt: based off my favourite song at the moment; Timezone by Maneskin. Where Charles is fed up with being so far away from you at a time where both of your lives are changing, not that he knows that.

warnings: 18+ as brief mentions of sex

word count: 4.6k

Song:

“You're wearing my old clothes, but you, you wear it better And every time I see your face, the moon should be jealous”

“Bonsoir Amour,” Charles says as his face pops up on your screen. “You look tired,” He quickly adds, as you make yourself comfortable on the bed you usually share.

“I am, work was a nightmare…all I want is to go to sleep and your shirts just don’t cut it anymore darling,” You joke as you show him the shirt you were wearing, it was one of his favourite linen button-ups; the one he likes to wear when you go driving down the Monegasque coastline together. 

You had sprayed it with the few drops of his cologne that were left in the bottle…but that was starting to fade, seeing how long he’d been gone. Nothing was the same as when you fell asleep in his arms; his warm chest pressing against your back, arm around your waist as he told you how much he loved you. “Stay with me?” You ask, turning off the bedside lamp as you prop your phone on the side table.

“Of course, I’ve got tons of emails to go through so I will probably still be here when you wake up,” He jokes as he sets his phone against the wall, atop the makeshift desk in his foreign hotel room. He continued to talk as you rested your head on the pillow below, wanting to listen to how Pierre ended up locking himself inside his hotel room; knowing that this was about as good as time-together got at the moment but also knowing that you had to be up early for work tomorrow. 

The latter finally proved to be more important.

“And I keep talking to the wall 'til he's a friend of mine”

Charles continued to talk for an hour until he broke eye-contact with the laptop in front of him to find the peaceful image of you fast asleep. He starts to question how worth it all is. Is his job, His dream worth more than you? Shouldn’t he be home with you, letting you rant about your day as he made dinner? But then He supposes once he met you, his dreams changed.

Growing up, Charles’ dreams were about one thing. Becoming world champion. But since meeting you he can't help dreaming of you, and everything you could become together. He would imagine the chateau you would have in the south of France in which you would raise your children (He knew you wanted children as you had expressed it before when He asked…but only at a time that suited you both, you didn’t want to be raising them yourself, and Charles didn’t want that either. Or at least…that was the plan)

“I would sacrifice it all for you…” He said quietly as he admired your sleeping figure. “Every last bit, every race, every win…if it meant I didn’t have to leave you like this amour, I don’t know how much longer I can be apart from you” He continues, ignoring the sole tear threatening to roll down his face. His mood quickly changed when He imagined your response. How you would tell him ‘don’t worry about me’ and how ‘I’ll still be here when you get back’

But what you wouldn’t tell him was that you selfishly wished for nothing more, if only you had fallen for the guy next door. Why did he have to have such lofty dreams and ambitions…but also the ability to make them come true? You wished nothing but the world for him, and his happiness was yours; so why when you spoke to him over the phone did he always seem so…sad?

“I call you every hour just to tell you that I'm losing my mind”

“If not for you-” You sang as you swept the apartment, your daily Saturday routine nearly over and you were excited as Qualifying was only a few hours away. The music quieted by the incoming call you were receiving. You quickly hurried to the kitchen where your phone lay on charge next to the speaker. You disconnected both before answering.

“Charles? Is everything ok?” You ask, you knew with only a few hours until Quali he needed pure focus so this was unexpected.

“N-No…I-” He tries to say but you shush him as you move over onto the couch.

“Turn on your camera,” You say, revealing a tear-stained Charles. Your heart shattering into a million pieces to see him like this. “Hey, look at me…you are ok, take some deep breaths,” You say and he quickly does as he’s told, collapsing down onto the couch in his drivers room.

“I can’t do this anymore,” He says quietly, probably not wanting to alert anyone else in the hospitality to the situation. 

“What can’t you do?” You ask confused.

“This…you and me-. The pressure I-” He starts to say before he realises what he said. “N-Not like that Amour. This distance between us. I haven’t seen you in nearly two months, I’m not myself without you, I’m losing my mind not being able to kiss you or hold you. I don’t know how much longer I can do this? Questions are being raised within the team, the media are saying I’m off my game.” He questions, his voice wavering at the end.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about. You are at the top of your game, Ferrari are performing as well as they have ever been and there are only two more races before you get to come back home…you’ll see me in just over two weeks darling. I know it’s hard, I feel it too. I walk around our apartment, remembering everything that's happened here and then I go to sleep alone, just waiting to see you again… But they are the sacrifices we have to make.” You tell him honestly as he wipes his face. He moved to the bathroom connected and you hear the tap running, assuming he is splashing his face with water. He returns to you much more calm and collected than before.

“T-Thank you Amour, I need to go but I will call you later,” He promises with a soft smile spread across his face.

“Good luck Darling,” You say before blowing him a kiss. You sit down to watch qualifying with baited breath, unaware of the toll your relationship was taking on your love.

“Now I know you're sleeping Where I'm supposed to be in”

*CALL NOT RECEIVED*

*CALL NOT RECEIVED*

*CALL NOT RECEIVED*

“Merde,” Charles swore as he threw his phone on the bed, he had finally gotten back to the hotel; only eight hours after the chequered flag. After celebrations, after media duties, after strategy debriefings, after engineering debriefings, after the awful traffic leaving the track, after everything…then, came you. But He had forgotten the time difference. You no doubt would have stayed up late to watch the race live, quickly sending him a congratulations text before falling asleep.

This was the part Charles hated the most, the loneliness. The empty hotel room, devoid of any emotion; leaving him with only his own thoughts for company. He longed for life to be different, for the days when he wasn’t under the spotlight. As much as Formula 1 was a team sport, he was the driver, so everything was done for him. He never had a chance to make many connections within the team.

Pierre was the exception, he was the childhood friend in the corner, always cheering him on. But even He had seen recently the shift in Charles’ mood. The change in how he interacted with others; shorter answers with the media, less patience for fans, sometimes borderline reckless driving on track. Pierre knew his reasons and how much Charles was struggling…that's why Pierre was the way He was. No long-term girlfriends, strenuous relationships with friends and his ‘fear’ of commitment. He saw what it was doing to his best-friend and didn’t like where it was headed.

“Wish I could've stayed”

“Have you got everything?” You ask your boyfriend as he wheels his three massive silver suitcases into the hallway.

“I think so, are you sure you’re alright to stay here by yourself? I could always ask Maman…you know she wouldn't say ‘no’ to staying a few weeks,” He offers again.

“Darling, I promise you, I will be fine. Eight weeks is only four-two week breaks. And I know I can do two weeks.” I assure him, taking his face in my hands as I do, slowly rubbing my thumb over his cheek. “I’ll still be here when you get back, and then you have a few weeks off where it can be just the two of us. We can do everything and Nothing if you want.” I remind him before pressing a kiss to his soft lips.

“I love you Ma Belle,” He mutters as he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. You spend a few minutes just taking in each other, knowing this would be the last time you would be in the same room as him for a few months.

“Je t’aime Chérie,” You reply, both of you knowing that was the extent of your French vocabulary, somehow making it even sweeter.

“Only thing that keeps us apart Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog”

“This won’t take long, I promise,” Charles is told as he sits down at the table, around which sits his team. His lead Engineer, His PR officer, His Trainer and His Team principal. “We just wanted to make sure everyone is on the same page with what's going on over the coming weeks,”

“Ok, has anything changed?” He asks, looking over the calendar on his Ipad.

“After your performance in the last few races we think it would be beneficial to get in some extra SIM work once we return from China…a week maybe two will be more than en-” His Engineer says tentatively.

“No, absolutely not,” Charles says adamantly, his fists balling as the device thuds on the table. “I haven’t been home in over 6 weeks…I-I’m not waiting another month-” He says getting up. “I’m not doing this now…we focus on these two races,” He tells them before walking out the same door he had walked through not 10 minutes before.

“Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone”

CURRENT TIME — 17:36

HOME TIME —--- 02:36 

The icon on his home screen taunted him as he watched the minutes tick by, the drive from the track to his hotel seeming even longer than usual. His mind goes back to that meeting, how dare they ask him to go to Maranello for another two weeks, he was there only a few days before he flew out for the first of the 6 races he was away for. 

Did they understand that you were waiting on him? Did they care? Charles was beginning to think they didn't. If they did they would have at least offered him a week or two at home first. He sighed in frustration as thoughts swirled in his head, the usual thoughts when He was left alone…

“So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning”

“I want to come home Maman, I want to see her. It is unbearable to be without her any longer,” Charles said to his mother as they spoke, ironically mirroring your words from when you spoke to her a few days ago…’It’s unbearable to see him like this’.

“I know it is Cherie, it's the same feeling I felt when you and your Papa were travelling the world for your karting…you have wanted this for so long, I can see how much your racing means to you. But as your Mother I just want you to be happy, so if she makes you happier than you could ever be, then go for it. You’ve won races, you’ve won championships but you have to ask yourself if this particular one is worth all the pain I can see you’re in?” She asked as she sat on her balcony in Monaco. Unbeknownst to him however, that the exact person he was talking about, was sitting on his Mothers couch, listening to the conversation and reading a book.

“-I know, I know…she said the same thing. It would be slightly more bearable if the time-difference wasn’t so big. I called her 3 times last week and only then did I realise she would be fast asleep,” He complained. Your heart had sunk when you got back into bed and realised you had three missed calls from him; you had to very quickly run to the bathroom out of fear of vomiting on the floor, so didn’t even think about grabbing your phone and messaging him back.

“Only a few more weeks and you will be back in her arms, I promise,” She says before ending the call. The clouds covering the sun forced her inside as the wind picked up. “How are you feeling?” She asks, pressing her ice cold hand to your forehead.

“Honestly?” You ask and she nods. “Like shit, I can't get rid of this nausea, and every time it feels like it’ll pass, it comes straight back,” You admit as you take a sip of the steaming tea she had made you only minutes before you were interrupted.

“The first few months are like that. It was the same with Lorenzo and Arthur…don’t tell Charles though but he was a dream, no sickness, no nothing and labour was a breeze,” She says causing you to laugh, Mr Charles ‘Perfect’ Leclerc struck again.

“I'm coming home”

*CONFIRM FLIGHT MA1611 TO NICE*

    [CONFIRM]    [CHECK BOOKING]

Charles pressed the confirm button instantly, without hesitation. Without thought of the consequences of what would happen with his team; He would be at least a week early. He didn’t care about this last race, He didn’t care how close his rival was to him in terms of points. He didn’t care about anything…except getting home to you. He asked his Maman to collect him from the airport and drop him at home. He also swore her to secrecy but that seemed like the least important part. 

“I wouldn’t have the balls…” Pierre said from across the table.

“You know how I feel about it, and Her,” He simply replied. But it was true, Pierre did know as they had talked about it for hours. Charles felt like Pierre was the only one who truly understood what it took and continued to take.

“I didn’t mean it like that…just make sure I’m the best man at the wedding alright?” He joked, neither of you had really discussed getting married. It just didn’t seem important at the time, but now, Pierre’s comment had planted a seed.

“Only thing that keeps us apart  Is a different timezone” “Tomorrow I got another plane,”

“How are you feeling about this last race?” His trainer asked as they walked through the international airport, only minutes away from boarding the flight to the final race.

“I’m feeling good, -I’m just going to go to the bathroom, you guys board without me…I’ll only be a few minutes,” Charles smoothly lied; He knew that the bathroom had two entrances in front of two different sides of the terminal. 

“I'm not gonna take it”

He checked his watch and saw that his other flight was about to depart so He started to run. He shouted ‘sorry’ as he brushed past someone, others choosing to move out the way as He ran through the airport. He looked at the gate numbers as he ran. 35…..34…..33…..32…..31…..30. He sighed as he finally reached it. The last few people started to board as he took a minute to compose himself before approaching. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself as the Stewardess checked his boarding pass.

“Welcome onboard Mr. Leclerc,” She said politely to him before showing him behind the curtain to his left. He relaxed as He settled into his seat. Only 12 more hours until He would be with you.

“Instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I paid double for the tickets” “And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed”

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*MISSED CALL*

*SHOW [128] OTHER MISSED CALLS*

He didn’t even manage to put his seatbelt on before the calls started flooding in, he quickly silenced his phone and tucked it into the bottom of his bag. He really hoped he was making the right decision. 

Charles was so exhausted from the past two months that He slept almost the whole way home, something very unusual for him. He was finally woken by the Stewardess telling him they were about to start their descent into Nice. At that news He woke up almost instantly, eager to be reunited with his Maman and see a familial face.

He made sure he was one of the first off the plane and was glad that his celebrity afforded him to be escorted through the airport and straight into arrivals. He didn’t have any bags to collect as they would be in the Middle East by now, probably with a group of very confused Ferrari employees. Pascale spotted her son almost immediately as He walked into the Arrivals hall, arms wrapping around him and pulling him into her.

“I’m proud of you, Cherie,” She says, kissing him on the cheek. “Let’s get you home,” His Maman adds as they start to walk out of the airport, a place Charles wished to not see for a very long time.

“And they can say whatever,”

“I’ll just drop you here,” Pascale says as she arrives outside your apartment building.

“Thank you Maman, for everything,” Charles says as he kisses her on the cheek before getting out of the car. He rifles through his bag looking for his swipe pass that would allow him access to the building. As annoying as it was having to have the card, you couldn’t get into the building or up the elevators without it. He swung his bag over his shoulder before shutting the door. Charles went onto autopilot as he swiped into the building, swiped to open the elevator, pressed the button for the top floor, and walked towards your door. It was only until he reached your door that the gravity of the situation dawned on him. He had just deserted his team and travelled 12 hours across the globe to see you.

He raised his hand to knock. Should he knock? Technically he lived here too…He twisted the handle and walked into your shared apartment. He could see you out on the balcony, eyes shut and enjoying the fresh-air. Charles tried to be as quiet as He could, He took his shoes off and dumped his bag before slowly walking towards you. 

The double doors were wide open as Charles approached and found you sleeping. He sunk down onto his knees next to the lounger you lay in and took your hand in his.

“Amour,” He whispered as He brought the back of your hand up to his lips and pressed a firm kiss to it. You muttered something under your breath. “Mon Ange,” He cooed as he tried to rouse you from your sleep. 

“Mmh, want to sleep,” You groan as you try to swat his hand away.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me Amour,” He said, only now His voice registering in your head.

“Charlie?” You asked in utter disbelief as your eyes widened and you sat bolt upright. “You! You’re here!” 

“I am, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” He assures you as you scramble to get up, tugging your shirt over your growing stomach before throwing your arms around him.

“Why- what-. Charles?” You ask, hoping he’d know what you were asking him.

“They don’t know I’m here. I’m tired and so fucking fed up of having to be away from you,” He admits and you sigh pulling him into your chest.

“I know you are Darling,” You tell him as you stroke the top of his head and fiddle with the tips of his hair. You fall into a comfortable silence as you just hold each other.

“I’m-,” You say.

“Ma-,” He says at the same time. “Sorry Amour, you go first,” Charles says with a smile on his face.

“I-I’m pregnant,” You admit taking his hand and placing it on your stomach.

“You’re what?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Pregnant, We’re having a baby Charles,” You tell him again with a wide smile on your face as you place your other hand on his cheek and rub it softly.

“We’re going to have a baby” He repeats in disbelief and I just nod. “How far along are you?” He asks, lifting your shirt up to see your slightly swollen stomach.

“The doctors think about three-and-a-half to four months. So I was pregnant before you left but with everything going on, I guess I just forgot,” You say but it seems like he’s daydreaming.

“Marry me,”

“What Ch-,”

“That's what I was going to say before. Marry me Amour, I haven’t bought a ring yet but I’m down on my knees so I’m halfway there. I don’t know what to tell you that you don’t know already. You are my reason; you are why I get up in the morning, why I try so hard at work, why I’m here right now. It’s all for you, and now our growing family…so marry me” He says, putting both hands on your stomach. 

“You already know my answer Darling, you are my everything Charles,” You tell him, pulling him off of his knees and into your arms.

“I need you to say it,” He pleads.

“we'll be making love,” “ I'm fucking you tonight”

“Yes, I will marry you Mr Leclerc,” You say with a laugh as he picks you up and spins you around. “Charles, be careful. Morning sickness is not a joke,” You warn him and upon realisation he stops spinning you but picks you up, ironically, bridal style and carries you to your bedroom. “What are you-,”

“I want to fuck my fiancée, is that alright with her?” He asks teasingly as He places you down onto your bed gently.

“Let me check…,” You say, pretending to think. “She says she’s been waiting months for you to say that,” You say pulling him on top of you and letting yourself savour every moment of it.

“So fuck what I’m dreaming,  this fame has no meaning,”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to Abu Dhabi and to the final race of the season!” The commentator announces as the camera pans down the pitlane. “It all comes down to today. With only 5 points in it, who will be crowned World Champion?” He asks. “Will it be double world champion Max Verstappen with RedBull? Or will it be reigning three-time world champion Charles Leclerc with Ferrari? Well, todays the day. Stay tuned for the duel in the desert!” He announces over the TV screen in Ferrari’s hospitality suite. You were sitting next to Charles' family. Both of his brothers and their girlfriends, His mum and some of his extended family that were able to make it.

“In a shock week for Ferrari, well…more like Charles Leclerc; the grid will say goodbye to one of its most talented today. After arriving here two days later than scheduled, Charles posted onto his social media and announced in the press conference that He is retiring and Yas Marina would be his last race. He is joined this weekend by his whole family as we celebrate a very accomplished driver; and most especially He is joined by long-term girlfriend and as of a few days ago; Fiancée, Y/N who is a very well-known face within the paddock. We also send the Leclerc family our biggest congratulations at the news of their impending arrival,” The commentator said as He walked the grid in preparation for today's race. You all started to make your way into the garage, Arthur offering to carry your bag as you were taken aside and onto the track. Ferrari wanted to take a few photos with the team and Charles refused to take them unless you were there.

“Thank you for being here Amour,” He said, taking you by the hand and escorting you over to where his car lined up on pole position.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world Darling,” You say, pressing a kiss to the side of his face. Charles’ PR manager took the photos they wanted before He was ushered off for the national anthem. Whilst you stood next to His car the same commentator from earlier approached you.

“I am joined now by Y/N Y/L/N, How are you?” He asks, pointing the microphone at you.

“I’m feeling amazing Martin. Nervous for today but Excited for the party that will no doubt ensue tonight,” You answer.

“So your money is on Charles for the win?” He asks and you scoff.

“I think it has to be, doesn't it?” You joke causing him to laugh.

“Probably wouldn’t be a great start to your marriage if you didn’t,”

“Your words not mine Martin,” You playfully remind him.

“Well congratulations to you and Charles on your recent engagement-” He says before he is spoken to via his earpiece. “Jenson would like me to remind you not to forget his invitation,” Martin Brundle explains.

“Jenson I promise you will be the first to get an invite, and I will hand deliver it myself If I have to,” I promised him whilst looking directly at the camera.

“-and finally before I have to head off. Another congratulations to you and Charles, upon the announcement of your baby.” He says causing you to blush at all the attention you were receiving.

“Thank you Martin, it really means a lot,” You reply with a smile.

“If you are open to name suggestions…might I suggest Martin? It’s a great name!” He asks in true Martin Brundle style.

“I will have to consult with my husband-to-be, but I’m sure we’ll work something out. You assure him before the National Anthem starts to play.

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

Charles_Leclerc

Liked by Pierre_Gasly and 1,406,356 others

Charles_Leclerc Nothing in my life compares to today.

Juliette Elise Leclerc and Leo MartÍn Leclerc; I cannot even begin to tell you how much my heart fills with joy every time I see you; your Maman and I are so unbelievably happy to introduce you to the world.

Y/N and I thank everyone for their kind words and messages over the past few days; we will however be taking some time away from the media whilst we adjust to our new lives as parents to our wonderful twins.

The birth of our children marks the start of a new chapter in both of our lives, one we have both been looking forward to for months. Before I take my leave I would like to dispel any rumours of my return to racing; I have no plan to return to racing in the foreseeable future as I plan to spend my time with my soon to be wife learning what it means to be a father.

Lastly, I just want to say how proud I am of Y/N, And how thankful I am to her for bringing our beautiful little girl and boy into the world.

Charles x

I hope you enjoyed reading, this is my first F1 oneshot I've published on tumblr so if you did enjoy it, please dont hesitate to let me know by dropping a comment. Thank you xxx

[digitulworld]

DHMIS teachers answers if you asked them the interview questions

Where do you live?

Sketchbook: In the dark, sometimes.

Tony: Midwest.

Shrignold: Far away from you.

Colin: Indoors, outdoors, sideways, vertical, and horizontal.

Spinach Can: Ping-pong galleria with my friend Schmuck.

Steak Guy: In your house!

Lamp: A magic barn.

What do you like to eat?

Sketchbook: I’m on a liquid diet.

Tony: It’s in the attic somewhere.

Shrignold: Something very warm.

Colin: Extra large cereal.

Spinach Can: Cardboard

Steak Guy: I can’t believe you would ask me that.

Lamp: Pink bones, red fibers, and a spinning wheel.

What is your favorite color?

Sketchbook: Green. Is this a trick question? It’s green.

Tony: Tan.

Shrignold: Lots and lots of purple.

Colin: The one with five letters.

Spinach Can: What color is grass?

Steak Guy: Grey horses.

Lamp: You're being too silly right now, you have to stop.

Do you like cows or goats?

Sketchbook: Anything yellow.

Tony: It doesn't matter to me. Nothing matters to me.

Shrignold: A baby sheep, is that like a goat?

Colin: Lizards.

Spinach Can: I made a cow mad once, and then got Cow Mad Syndrome.

Steak Guy: Big ones. Just the big ones.

Lamp: It jumps over the moon!

Do you have brown hair?

Sketchbook: Only on Tuesdays.

Tony: Are you stupid?

Shrignold: Lime green, like my mothers.

Colin: I asked you first!

Spinach Can: You should stop asking me that, I'll give it back later.

Steak Guy: It just gets stuck like this sometimes.

Lamp: Yesterday I saw a dog, but it was an evil dog. Don't ask me how I know.

What is your blood type?

Sketchbook: I had to glue some on myself so they'd stop bothering me.

Tony: Just a big clump.

Shrignold: I don't know, they all look the same.

Colin: I can't remember what it looks like! It’s very shy.

Spinach Can: What the *beep* is blood?

Steak Guy: Blood? Is that what they call it nowadays?

Lamp: Theres worms in me.

What are you allergic to?

Sketchbook: Having a nose.

Tony: It changes every day, and has been for the past 977 days.

Shrignold: Absolutely positively everything.

Colin: Fish paste.

Spinach Can: Eggshells, all of them. They pushed me down the stairs once.

Steak Guy: I don't need one!

Lamp: The Boogeyman. We’re on bad terms.

Whats your favorite idea?

Sketchbook: Anything but this question.

Tony: The giant bird that appears in my dreams sometimes.

Shrignold: My favorite pair of shoes.

Colin: My idea website. It generates ideas, like fun ways to hold a spoon.

Spinach Can: Hammers! Lots of hammers! And a nickel!

Steak Guy: Throwing my keys into a hole.

Lamp: TV shows about Alaska.

What do you find exciting?

Sketchbook: Big balloons, the alphabet, kites, gas planets, carpentry, a sock. The rest is personal.

Tony: Basements with creaky stairs.

Shrignold: Moths in small amounts.

Colin: Every 14th day of the month.

Spinach Can: A really really really small traffic cone, that tells you when you're going to die.

Steak Guy: Mold.

Lamp: Four trampolines.

What happened after the olden days?

Sketchbook: TVs started using colors, and now people are ungrateful.

Tony: I’m not playing your little game.

Shrignold: Everyone got sad, so I had to help them.

Colin: There were three wars, four explosions, and two train crashes, all in 1958.

Spinach Can: The world got mucky and ate dirt and beans.

Steak Guy: A rude mouse flipped the bird at me.

Lamp: They had bigger and bigger dreams, and then everyone got so big, they had to stop eating foods that made them dream big. The moral of this story is that you should wash your hands twice a day.

What are you scared of?

Sketchbook: Medium-sized rodents.

Tony: 7:00pm.

Shrignold: Whatever you're scared of.

Colin: A pound of sand.

Spinach Can: Mud crunching.

Steak Guy: Holes in pudding.

Lamp: The big night sky we’ll all get lost in one day.

What are your hobbies?

Sketchbook: Throwing vegetables at paintings, you should try it one day.

Tony: Watching people blink.

Shrignold: I sew clothes for my friends, but their first question is always, “How do you know my exact measurements? I never told you them.” You just can’t please everyone.

Colin: Data analyzation, accounting, coding, excessive security measurements.

Spinach Can: It’s beach ball related, if you know what I mean.

Steak Guy: Meat hobbies.

Lamp: Finding used cigarettes on the ground and taping them together to make a big cigarette, I call it The Ultimate.

What is your favorite song?

Sketchbook: Banging plastic together, if thats a song.

Tony: The Screaming Album, 1938.

Shrignold: I made all of them up.

Colin: Trapezoid Angles by Super Henry 3

Spinach Can: Four of them and they’re bad.

Steak Guy: Just noises?

Lamp: Mr. Bungle

Where do you go on holiday?

Sketchbook: My imaginary imagination place.

Tony: I just walk around.

Colin: If I leave my house, I die instantly.

Shrignold: Every day is a holiday if you know what you're doing.

Spinach Can: Mister Loopy’s Pizza Restaurant that I keep getting kicked out of.

Steak Guy: Where all the pigs are.

Lamp: Nightmare Land.

Who do you love?

Sketchbook: The letter B

Tony: Boys? Girls?

Shrignold: Please don't.

Colin: My toothpaste bottle cap.

Spinach Can: Cheese thrown against the window.

Steak Guy: Finger soup! Teeth! Orphans!

Lamp: The giraffe I met once, that I went on adventures with.

What is love?

Sketchbook: Anything that smiles.

Tony: Something not very important.

Shrignold: Do you want me to tell you? I’m a little busy.

Colin: One of the twelve main Brain Viruses.

Spinach Can: Endless sink drains.

Steak Guy: A string of hair. A lot of hair.

Lamp: It grows two legs, and then one day it’ll kill you.

What do you dream of?

Sketchbook: Pools and pools of blood tubes.

Tony: It all became a blur to me, I had to stop before I went mad.

Shrignold: So many little squirrels eating me.

Colin: Untied shoelaces.

Spinach Can: Peanuts, but they keep spelling their name wrong.

Steak Guy: Markets that only sell one type of vinegar oil.

Lamp: I can’t dream, I have a condition.