#wednesday drabble

[woewriting]

wednesday addams is good at everything.

──

The sun was setting in the distant horizon, the orangish color painting the sky, the dim lights automatically turning on as the room became darker, all you could see was the silhouette of the girl sat in her chair, rapidly typing on her writing machine. Watching Wednesday work on her novel always left you mesmerized, she wasn’t allowed to make a single mistake as the antique machine didn’t have an erase button and the writer refused to stain the paper. She was brilliant.

“You’re good at fencing, botany, writing, and I’m sure you’re great at killing people too, but…” You stop, unsure if you should proceed with your, stupidly and terribly planned, plan.

“But?”

“But I doubt that you’re good at kissing.”

Wednesday’s hand stopped typing as she turned her face to the right, her side profile illuminated by the fairy lights that, somehow, you convinced her to hang over her working desk. The perfectly drawn nose, the plump lips, and God, her jawline! So sharp that you’ve always wanted to run your finger over the bone to see if it would cut.

The girl kept her eyes on the wall, her brain working in what her next step to this, obvious, teasing should be. You could almost see the engines twisting inside her skull.

The moment she stood up, her eyes were fixed on your face, jaw tensed up, hands in fists. It was like she was ready to throw a punch at you, it wouldn’t be the first time… but when she took a step closer and you closed your eyes, waiting for the collision, her fingers pulled you by the collar of your shirt until you felt her hot breath against your lips.

“I’m good at everything.” Her voice was serious.

Tilting your chin up, a small smirk tugged the corner of your lips. Eyes slowly opening, meeting hers.

“Why don’t you prove me wrong then, Addams?”

Wednesday loosened the grip on your shirt, the stretched fabric showing your collarbones, a few moles adorning the skin. For a second, in an intrusive thought, the brunette wanted to count each one that covered your body. She had seen a few whenever you wore sleeveless shirts or shorts, they decorated your skin like stars in the night sky, but there was one she had never seen before and, now, got her full attention and became her favorite, a small mole near the vale of your breasts.

She wanted to touch, her hand reaching down to invade the ruined fabric in a curious act, but she stopped midway when she felt the deep breath you took, she could see goosebumps all over your chest with the sudden proximity. You had been next to each other before, but not like this. Not with her eyes peeking through your shirt, her plump lips taking all your attention, so close to yours.

Wednesday was so kissable, and she didn’t even know that.

Not with her hands on your neck as she looked up, big brown eyes staring at your soul. She took a deep breath, swallowing the air to her lungs almost as if it was hurting. And when she closed the gap between you two in a bruising kiss, it felt like a burning knife pierced her throat.

Her nails dug the back of your neck, her teeth biting your lower lip. You knew Wednesday wasn’t gentle, but this was a whole new level. Wrapping your hands on her thin waist, you finally pulled her impossibly closer.

Her tongue licked yours deliciously before sucking hard on it, a struggled sound escaping you, a small string of saliva connecting your lips before she kissed you again, the ragged, unsteady breathing making your lungs burn, begging for air. Pulling back, your chest rose and fell aggressively, your lips lingering over hers, almost touching, uneven breathing colliding with your face.

Before you could kiss her again, her hand pressed down to your chest, pushing you away. Your knees buckled against the bed frame, and you awkwardly fell onto the mattress.

Wednesday was blushed, eyes half open and red, swollen lips. She looked like a mess, and you’re sure you look even worse, you could feel the burning feeling on every centimeter of your body, your hair all over your face.

“Good enough for you?”

[curator-on-ao3]

Wednesday Drabble: Cheers

Una gets happier after a few drinks, lips curling in giggles, long neck muscles in motion with wine-lubricated laughter.

Chris veers opposite, whiskey pulling him under, more somber than in sobriety, hand tight on his glass and head spinning into doomsday.

So two people usually so in tune fall out of sync in the drink, a lift and drop of what could be alcohol-fueled entropy of separation and loss.

Except.

Her giggle hoists him up from under and his hand on the glass steadies her artificial rise, an instinctive mutual return to a shared whole.

And they’ll drink to that.

•

Christopher Pike drabbles: 2, 1/?

[beamergirll11]

Revolting

A quick drabble between Wednesday X Xavier, a mess in the woods causes an array of feelings but only for Xavier.

Sexual Themes, Angst, Hurt Xavier

A single tree branch caused Xavier to experience the most embarrassing and arousing thing that ever happened to him. When Wednesday fell on top of him causing the leaves to fly up and flutter slowly down like rain as their bodies mashed together. He watched her rise but not stand instead straddling him as her eyes rose to the sky.

He waited for her to say something while trying to contain the beats of his heart from bursting out of his chest. Her hands rested on his jacket causing chills across his body as her obsidian eyes lowered to his olive ones. Xavier swallowed hard as he decided to be the one to break the silence before he could Wednesday spoke, “Revolting.”

“Wait what…what did I do?” He asked not being able to hold back the hurt her single word dealt.

“The way you touch yourself when you think of me.” She said unflinching not moving.

Xavier blinked hard twice as he faked a laugh, “I’ve never never done that.”

Wednesday finally rose off of him quickly turning heel while Xavier scrambled to follow. He sped up catching up to her while avoiding a tree, “I never did that! Wednesday!”

She froze her eyes wandering back to his as he stood desperately trying to hid the embarrassment that tore through him, “Your fairytales will never become reality.”

The embarrassment turned to shame and utter worthlessness. He grimaced and once she walked away he looked down at the ground. How he wished she felt the same, how that single moment was also longed for. However every time she touched him he would only revolt her like he did when she simply looked at him.

[lovebugism]

after skinny dipping at a lover’s lake alone, eddie is shocked to see someone else was there all along (reader) 🫶🏻

thank u for requesting anon! this prompt literally drove me insane! (in a good way)! — eddie falls in love with the weirdest stranger he's ever met in his life (wednesdayaddams!reader-esque, mentions of being naked, 18+ | 1.2k)

The edge of Lover’s Lake sits right outside Eddie’s trailer, partially visible through a thin treeline of bright orange oaks. He stumbles through it on graceless, lanky legs — high out of his mind, which is filled now with racing thoughts of boyish rage. 

He’s failing English (again), for one. For another, Corroded Coffin’s been bumped to Tuesday night shows instead of Friday nights (a death sentence if he ever saw one). And ever since then, Wayne’s been on his ass about working with him at the car shop (‘cause moonlight as a rockstar isn’t a real job, apparently.)

Eddie gets angrier the more he thinks about it — which is perpetually and without mercy. It makes his pale skin feel red hot, boiling to the touch, practically repelling every wisp of autumn breeze that threatens to cool him down. He wonders, briefly, if it could be the weed fucking with him. ‘Cause everything else has been today.

He stands on the grassy bank of the moonlit lake and strips off his clothes to find out. He stumbles trying to get his pants off, right after his chin gets stuck in the neck of his t-shirt. He doesn’t think to check if anyone’s around until he’s left only in his thin, navy plaid boxers.

“Free show?” a feminine, unfamiliar voice calls from the center of the pitch-black lake.

Eddie practically jumps out of his buzzing skin. His heart lurches into his throat as his palms hurry to cover his still-clothed crotch. “Shit!” he shouts, voice echoing over the empty clearing.

You don’t flinch at the volume of the voice. He can’t even tell if you’re blinking from here. You just remain in the middle of the rippling, silver water, only visible from the tops of your bare collarbones.

Eddie swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing, and tries to catch his breath. “Sorry. I— I didn’t know anyone else was out here…”

“Don’t stop on my account,” you tell him, flirtatious words that sound strangely deadpan falling from your lips. “Lover’s Lake is big enough for the both of us.”

Eddie squints into the darkness, dark eyes flitting across the water. “You’re alone?” he concludes after a few moments. 

“Usually…” you hum, lifting a naked shoulder in a lazy shrug. “…Are you?”

“Usually.”

“Want some company?” you offer, still strikingly monotoned. The strange boy with the wild hair and pale legs stammers for a response. You tilt your chin to your chest and look cautiously at him through your lashes. “…Or should I go?”

“No!” Eddie blurts, then clears his throat with a red face. Quieter, he adds, “No, it’s not that. You don’t have to go.”

A smile quirks at the edges of your lips. So faint Eddie can hardly tell it’s there. But still, it sparkles in your eyes like the moonlight does. “Just act like I’m not here,” you lilt, disappearing back into the water before Eddie can blink.

He’s not so sure how possible that is, but he gets into the water with you, anyway.

The fall season has turned the lake into silk. It’s cool and soft against his burning skin as he slowly submerges himself within its void. Eddie’s wide, attentive eyes never leave the water as he searches for your body beneath it. He follows the faint, silver ripples until they disappear completely — until he starts to worry if you’ll ever come back up again — until he starts to convince himself you were never there at all.

There’s a loud and sudden splash before him. He blinks, and your face is inches away from his own. An almost uncomfortable proximity between two strangers. “Jesus!” Eddie blurts, flailing awkwardly in fear.

“Did I scare you?” you squint, like it wasn’t totally obvious.

The boy exhales a wavering breath. “Yeah… Yeah, a little bit.”

“Sorry. Won’t happen again,” you promise with a faint smirk that tells him otherwise, as you swim slightly back from the boy ahead of you. The dark waves rise and valley at your bare chest. Eddie’s boyish mind immediately wonders exactly how bare you are underneath them. 

“Actually, it might,” you continue. “But it’ll be an accident… Probably.” 

Eddie struggles to tell if you’re joking or not — if you’re playing games with him, or if you’re just too aloof to know what you’re doing to him.

“You’re a strange… strange person,” he tells you, a half-compliment and a half-something-else, as the words tumble from his lips before he can think about them. His chocolate eyes narrow into thin slits at you. “Did you know that?”

The question’s mostly rhetorical, but you nod rapidly in response anyway.

“It’s ‘cause I’m not a person,” you confess, eyes wide and glittering with sincerity. “I’m a mermaid trapped in human form.”

“Aren’t mermaids already half-human?”

A contented noise sounds in your throat. 

“Hm… Guess I’m already halfway there, then.”

Eddie forgets to respond, and the conversation lulls. It makes the rest of the world seem terribly loud. Wind whistles through trees. Frogs croak in the tall grass. Water sloshes softly around your bodies. He gets lost in the serenity surrounding him and drowns in the chaos in your eyes.

“You have a staring problem,” you blurt. “Did you know that?”

The boy blinks rapidly to clear the haze from his glazed-over eyes. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m just—” Eddie clears his throat and shakes his head, hair damp at the edges and sticking to his freckled shoulders. “I’m just trying to figure out if you’re real, or if I just… made you up in my head or something?”

Something about that seems to please you. 

A mischievous smirk pulls slowly at the edges of your mouth — into a smile brighter than Eddie thought you were capable of. You float towards him with little effort, like two distant planets now threatening to collide. He doesn’t realize how close you are until your breath fans warm across his jaw.

“How’s this for real?” you hum quietly, leaning in like you plan to kiss him.

Eddie’s stunned still. He forgets how to breathe as his heavy eyes fall to your lips. He moves closer to you on instinct, mouth gravitating to yours despite himself — like you’re some kinda siren controlling his mind with a song he’s too far gone to hear.

Through the mist in his vision, he watches your mouth curl into a cheeky half-smirk. You look on at him, at this puddle of a boy, like you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 

“You are a strange… strange boy, Eddie Munson,” you hum quietly.

Eddie shakes his head as he descends (face-plants, more like) back into reality. The water ripples faintly around you as you swim away from him. He stammers for words while you head back towards the bank. “Wait— How— How do you know my name?” the boy gapes.

Your body ascends from the silver lake, naked as the day you were born, and shining beneath the full moon. 

Water drips from your skin like diamonds as you crouch to grab your clothes, lying in a discarded pile beside the dock. The sight of your bare ass would make Eddie implode if he wasn’t already reeling.

“Sorry!” you call to him over your shoulder, with your all-black clothes balled at your chest. “Can’t hear you all the way over there!”

You never cease your stride back towards the pitch-black treeline. Eddie shouts at the back of you anyway, “How do you know my name?!”

He never gets an answer.

[lamnwar]

MDNI 18+

Daiki knows he's being stupid. A real idiot for the way he feels.

It's just a piece of fabric, for fuck's sake!

A blue silk robe you bought on your latest trip to China, handcrafted by an old artisan with so much love and talent that you didn't mind spending most of your souvenir budget on it. Something about the little details – the cloud shaped pattern on the cuffs and collar, the deep pockets that keep your hands warm, the flowers and branches embroidered in gold thread – it was too gorgeous not to buy it.

But god, does Daiki hate it. It stems entirely in his unreasonable jealousy for the cloth, his insides burning when he sees how it wraps around your body. The blue silk cord around your waist, holding it together. The way it drapes your shoulders so delicately. The way it clings to your chest, your nipples perking through the fabric.

That should be him. That should be his hands on your waist, holding you tight. That should be his fingers on your shoulders, taking in the softness of your skin. That should be his mouth around your perked nipples, sucking on them till his jaw hurts.

His cock aches in his boxers every night and morning, when you roam around the house in nothing but that blue silk robe, so carelessly doing your thing. Watering your indoor plants, choosing your outfit for the next day, making yourself a cup of hot beverage to warm your insides the same way that godforsaken robe keeps you warm outside. And then you climb in bed, your thighs that Daiki loves so much peeking out of the slit, and you lean towards him, the robe opening just enough to show your bare chest under it.

That's when he loses his mind. He can't take it anymore. He well knows he sounds insane but if Daiki could be anything, he'd be that blue silk robe. Wrapping your body and touching your skin at all times. He grunts, pulling you into a wild kiss as his fingers untie the robe in frustration.

Get out of this thing, cling to me. He's feral, and you're confused. What on Earth is your boyfriend so mad about? He's hovering you, taking the sight of your naked body, the sapphire fabric splayed under you, your hair contrasting with the colour.

Fucking you as the fabric glides under your every squirm. Oh god, you're such a beautiful thing to look at. The shine in your eyes, the sweet songs of your moans. And Daiki's big brown hands, roaming every inch of you, kneading your breasts while he pounds into you with the kind of force that makes your mind go blank. It might be the best sex you've had in a while. And he smiles, a spiteful smirk on his lips as he sees how you cling to him, that cute little voice of yours begging. More, Daiki, more! It might be that, as a personal preference, you'd take your boyfriend's skin against yours over any piece of clothing.

Daiki Aomine: 1. That stupid blue silk robe: 0.

[wesstars]

hot tea

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: your addams just really needs some physical contact :) wc: 737 tags: established relationship. nevermore ‘university,’ all characters involved are 18+. ooc wednesday. idk something about tooth rotting fluff a/n: first wednesday drabble wednesday, in collaboration with @evilrawr! fluff has been requested by @melrodrigo. still not my strong suit but we’re going for it anyway. 

masterlist

Steam rose from the warm mug that you carefully wrapped Wednesday’s fingers around, but the heated ceramic was nothing compared to the searing lance of your grasp around her wrist. She watched as you settled yourself down on bended knee in front of her, respectfully pulling back your hands. Her own twitched, minutely. 

It hadn’t been that difficult to come knock on your door, 10 minutes before curfew was over. Wednesday knew you’d be there in your dorm, making something absurdly sweet with your—respectably contraband—electric kettle. You’d stepped aside to wordlessly let her in, and she’d taken her usual seat at the foot of your bed. Strewn around were your day’s assignments, a jacket or two, and she wrinkled her nose at the mess. Your lamps cast a gentle candle-eseque light across everything, blurring every sharp edge. The exact reason why she was in your room, well…

“Long day?” Your gaze was inquisitive but warm, as always. Wednesday watched you, taking in your socked feet and soft pants. Then, she did the Wednesday Addams equivalent of what might be considered a frustrated huff from Enid, or a desolate sigh from you: she looked away first.

The reaction was immediate, she noted absently. You tried to catch her gaze again, the slope of your shoulders and the wring of your fingers imploring her to look back at you. “Weds… talk to me?”

She took a slow sip from the mug, avoiding your eyes. To tell the truth, Wednesday was busy aching in the way that she wished you’d reach across the sea between your knee and hers. Her intense feelings were something that she typically kept locked away, not just with the protection of a key, but with a castle moat, bolted doors, and plenty of booby traps. Inside that cage lay other previously dormant feelings, ones that you managed to pull out, sharp knife to soft underbelly, with startling ease. Wednesday set her mug down on the floor, cocking her head at you. Often she’d feel a baser, visceral urge to blurt out whatever thought she had to you. Restraint was becoming more and more difficult, the more you seemed to flay yourself open in front of her for a perusal akin to autopsy.

There was a muffled thump as you got up just a bit to shift from your kneeling posture, and Wednesday couldn’t take it anymore.

She grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling tightly until you were about nose to nose. Her mind knew that your actual body temperature wasn’t that high, even lower than the average, but her cold heart felt the bone-deep bonfire of your proximity as your hands slammed into the bed next to her thighs, preventing you from tumbling into her. You took a sharp breath, a fateful one, as it seemed to pull all the oxygen from the room, leaving Wednesday blissfully bereft of that life force. She didn’t need it, anyway; she was convinced she could sustain herself on the dilating of your pupils, the flickering of your eyes down to her lips.

“Come here.” Wednesday’s voice came out in a rasp, but she reasoned with herself—it was the best she could do after you yanked the air out of her still lungs. That ache of absence turned into a yawning chasm, reserve and restraint tumbling down into that eager maw. Her demand fell into that same ravine, eclipsed by the endless depth of darkness.

You stood from your position to sit on the bed as soon as the plea left her, and Wednesday was impressed at your speed. You pulled her into your arms not a beat later. Everything smelled like a faint mix of linen and honey, between your sweater and your tea, and something in it brought Wednesday’s world to a halt. The skin of your collar was warm against the tip of Wednesday’s nose, grounding like the nip of winter air. The two of you fell easily into your sheets, and Wednesday’s mind finally felt like it had found the smoking gun for the investigation. It settled like a content cat right in her diaphragm, making it easy to breathe you in.

“Is this what you wanted?” Your voice, already sleepy, sent vibrations down Wednesday’s spine. She hummed back, leaning her temple up against your shirt and letting her head fall onto your chest. You didn’t say a word more; you didn’t need to.

--

a/n cont'd: so... playing with words… what do we think :0

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[sinsdaycorp]

“So,” Gomez started, a grin on his face as he stared at Enid and Wednesday expectantly.

“What, father?” Wednesday frowned.

“How did you ask her out?” He asked, hoping his daughter took after his inclination towards big romantic gestures.

Enid giggled, her cheeks tinting.

“Enid offered to kiss Cheeto dust off of my lips when I said I didn’t like the taste after trying one of the cheese ones, then she kissed me and handed me a hot Cheeto instead.”

Pugsley cackled at his sisters gayness.

Enid smiled nervously as Gomez chuckled deeply and pulled Enid into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground, despite Wednesdays fingers still tightly threaded in her hand.

“Truthfully,” Enid started as she was set back down. “She asked for a tissue and I was too lazy to move and actually go get one, I didn’t expect her to shrug and say sure, but I’m glad she did.” Enid turned her head, pressing a kiss to Wednesdays cheek as the goth silently glared at her brother who was still laughing, although now silently once he caught her gaze.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

@idkwthgoitmww today is your day! <3 thanks for the request! Words: 1,226 Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader Warnings: language, descriptions of blood and injuries Summary: When Carol removes Negan from Alexandria and claims the council "banished" him, he doesn't expect to see anyone from the community again. Until Y/N shows up at his door for a visit which quickly goes sideways. A/N: I think this is just the first half of a little fic that was supposed ot be a short one shot, but I literally had no time to finish it today, so if you like it, let me know and I'll work on finishing it up when I can!

It was only mid-afternoon and Negan was beyond ready for the day to be over... He was already contemplating trying to sleep just so time would pass more quickly, but the thought that he'd wake up in the middle of the night and be unable to fall back asleep had stopped him.

The nights were dark in that little cabin alone. His thoughts were poor company. He was pouring himself a cup of water from the metal pitcher when he heard boots on the little wooden porch. He froze and strained his hearing. They approached the door slowly and then stopped. A board creaked softly underfoot. Then came a sharp resounding knock.

Negan set the pitcher down and his hand went to the fireplace poker laying on the hearth. "Who's there?" he called out. His voice was gruff and deep, markedly unwelcoming.

There was a moment of silence before your voice drifted through the wood. You sounded ...tired? "It's me. I would have called first, but—you know... zombie apocalypse and all that."

A grin grew on his face. This was an unprecedented and unexpected turn of events. His hand left the fireplace poker and he hurried to pull open the door. You were leaning against one side of the doorframe, but straightened up as he came into view. Negan was smiling at you, his hazel eyes surprised but crinkled at the corners. "Well, Hell, doll... You're about to make my week," he said.

"Your week? That's some low bar you have, Negan."

His smile quickly started to fade as he noticed you were a bit disheveled and there was a cut or smear of blood on your left ear. There was also a noticeable red mark on one side of your neck and something that looked like a fresh scratch. "You okay?" he asked, a shadow overtaking his features.

"I'm fine," you answered. "Are you going to leave me standing out here?"

Negan stepped back to let you pass by him but he was scrutinizing you carefully. "You sure? Because if I didn't know any better I'd say you had some trouble on the way here" There was a cavern between his eyebrows, deep lines of worry.

"Huh?" You tore your eyes away from the interior of the cabin and turned to look at him again.

"Your neck. And your ear, doll. What happened?"

Your hand flew to touch the top of your ear and you winced lightly as your fingers made contact with the wound. You gulped. "Just—had a little scuffle on the way here. I'm fine. Really."

"What kind of scuffle?" Negan asked, watching as you again turned to take in the inside of his cabin. You dropped your pack next to the little sofa against one wall. "That better not be a scratch from a walker on your neck," Negan said, his stomach turning even as the words left his mouth.

You turned and rolled your eyes. "No," you said. "Jesus, you think I'm some kind of amateur? Like I can't handle a walker."

"Hey, shit happens, doll," he said seriously. "Plenty of badasses have bit the dust from just the right shitstorm of shitty circumstances."

"No, it's not from a walker," you said, turning away from him again, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if to shield yourself from further probing questions. You made yourself busy thumbing open the few cabinets on the far wall. Most of them were bare except for layers of dust, the odd spider web or dead bug, and of course a nice sprinkling of mouse shit. "Nice place you've got here," you said sarcastically.

Negan let out a low chuckle. "Yeah, Carol really went above and beyond finding me something special."

You turned and glanced toward the opposite wall. There were ample shelves flanking the fireplace which held a few of Negan's personal items including some books and folded linens. A couple lanterns were set around the room. "It's not a total loss. Could use a good cleaning though... and maybe a little more living in," you said pointedly, casting a look in his direction. "What have you been doing since you got here?"

Negan didn't want to tell you the uncomfortable truth—wallowing in self-pity and regret over his past actions. Hallucinating in the wee hours of the morning when sleep evaded him. He deflected. "You think I'm going to give up on hearing about that 'scuffle' so easily? What happened, doll?"

You sighed and sank down slowly on the part of the sofa that looked the least dusty. "It was nothing. I just ran into a small group on the way here and—and had to deal with them."

The shadow settled back over Negan's features. "Small group? Deal with them?" he repeated.

You sighed and avoided his eyes. "That's what I said..."

"Well, excuse me for giving a shit, but what exactly does that mean? You ran into some people and ended up with a cut in your ear and a scratch and bruise on your neck? Fill in the blanks for me," he insisted, his concern growing by the moment.

You let out a laugh you hoped sounded casual. "You haven't even asked me why I'm here!"

"I already know the fuckin' answer to that. You missed the fuck out of me and couldn't go another day without my handsome face. Now give me the details, doll. Do I need to go looking out there for some shitheads?"

"No! I told you. I dealt with them!'

Negan let out a frustrated sigh. "Why're you being so cagey about this?" he prodded.

"Maybe because I want you to leave it alone," you retorted, a steely edge to your voice. "Jesus, Negan! I'm here! It—it doesn't fucking matter!"

But he was looking at you through narrowed eyes, clearly suspicious and concerned, but at the sharpness of your tone he conceded. He sighed, sinking down in one of the chairs at the little table in the middle of the room. "Alright... why are you here then? Not that I'm not thrilled to see you. When Carol 'banished' me to this little corner of solitude I pretty much figured that'd be the last I saw of anyone from Alexandria."

Your eyes flitted up to meet his again. You shrugged, trying to ignore your nerves. "Figured I'd come check on you. Make sure you weren't swimming in a pit of despair."

Negan laughed dryly. "Wow. You give a shit about my mental state, doll? Careful. That's practically flirting in my book... Should I start unbuttoning?" he asked, grinning.

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up," you muttered, climbing to your feet, trying hard to suppress a wince. "I brought you a few supplies. I'm not sure what Carol left you with." You grabbed the loop on the top of your pack and started lifting it up, but the weight of it—you felt like white hot lightning shot through your entire body. Your vision went black and you were vaguely aware of dropping your pack and starting to crumple.

Negan was on his feet and catching you as you dropped into unconsciousness, swearing under his breath as you tipped into his arms like a ragdoll. "Doll? Hey, wake up, darlin'!" But you were out cold and lay completely limp in his arms. "Well, shit."

A/N: Raise your hand if you want a Part 2! Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger. Literally was not my intention (this time). I've worked over 30 hours in the last three days and am pretty busy and worn out! Drop me a note to motivate me to finish this up <3 k love you byeeee

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unhealthy relationships, financial abuse, reader is implied to be a sugar-baby/sex worker, unbalanced power dynamics.

Mei is a woman who can put a price on anything.

You've seen her talents first-hand. Hell, you'd only gotten together in the first place because she decided you were a commodity worth the expense, or in her words, because 'you'd be more valuable with me than anywhere else'. Some of her earliest gifts were little more to foder to prove that she had enough wealth stowed away to not only afford you, but make you hers exclusively - skin-tight diamond chokers, ornate harnesses strung with crystals and pearls, rings studded with pale sapphires that were nearly too heavy to lift. You'd kept the pricetags from everything she gave you in a drawer in your shoebox of an apartment, and as a show of kinship, she decided to keep you.

Really, you could only be thankful you fell into the hands of someone so appreciative. As someone so easy to buy, you can't think of a customer more suited to you than Mei.

Your relationship's too far along for her to be so blatant with her intentions, now, carrying a pretense of affection that means she can't slip you a stack of bills and tell you, in no uncertain terms, that you'll be spending the night with her, but she still finds ways to mark you, to make sure she's always going to be the majority shareholder of your time. All your clothes are tailor-made, her initials embroidered into everything she has designed for you, and you can't remember the last time you wore a scent that she hadn't personally selected. She's careful with what she owns, but not so careful that she isn't willing to offer you tens of thousands of yen to wear the lipstick stain she left on the side of your throat like a designer product. She has a jealous streak, despite how indifferent she tries to act. That, or she just doesn't like it when other people tamper with her investments.

It's become an ongoing joke between the two of you - her possessive habits and your attempts to provoke them. You'll straddle her thigh and slot your chest against hers and pout as you ask how much she thinks the white-haired man across the room would offer for an hour with you, and she'll purse her lips and assure you that none of her 'coworkers' could afford such a gem. Once or twice, you've managed to pester a real answer out of her, always something in the millions and delivered in a clipped tone that meant it was time to stop asking, but more often, she'll take you by the hips and ask you if you plan on replacing her so callously. It's a fair reaction. You can't say she's ever made you think you might be up for sale.

When you can't bite back your curiosity, you drape yourself across her and ask how much she would give up to have you permanently, to keep you at her beck and call without having to stifle herself with allowances and borrowed platinum cards. She likes that question, practically purrs as she promises that, to her, you're priceless. It should be more comforting than it is, but somehow, you can't shake the implication that it's something she's considered, that if there was an amount she could forward to some unknown account, she would've done it long before you'd ever made the offer. You're glad she came to the conclusion she did. You're glad that, no matter how entitled she acts to every fiber of your being, every second of your time, she knows she'll never actually own you.

You're glad that, if she changed her mind, if she ever put a price on your head and decided it was worth the loss, she's kind enough not to tell you that you've already been paid for.

[crazyoffher]

HDMI.

warnings: smut drabble -> dom!jenna, sub!r

-

“Fucking spilling all over the sheets, mm? Drenching up a bed that doesn’t even belong to you,” the rasp that laid in Jenna’s voice, mixed with the sweetly rough thrusts that she was giving you, a hand on your head pushing your face into the pillow, you called it heaven. “The rage that’ll reek out of your ex when he finds out I made you cum, over and over, on his bed.”

The appaling idea alone left you drenched, brain rotted when Jenna fixed the strap further into your gaping cunt and left you moaning into the pillow, saliva drenching your sweating face. A moan hurled out of your mouth, gagging and mumbling incoherently as Jenna shoved two fingers into your mouth. “Keep quiet, baby. Don’t want our friends to hear, right? You know they’re just a wall away from us.”

You nodded your head, fighting hard against the moans that itched to come out the more Jenna thrusted into you, one hand on your head keeping your face down, and the other gripped against your hip, keeping your ass up and all ready just for her. The arch on your back grew; the shrewdness of the situation made you the horniest you’d ever been, and you relished in it.

A large gasp escaped your throat when Jenna’s hand closed in on your hair, pulling your head up as she bent over your frame. “Let me see you, let me see that beautiful face.” Her hand snaked over your face to grip your chin and turn your head, bruising your face the longer she held on. “Such a dirty girl, my dirty girl. You understand that?”

Her head rested against yours while she held her knees up slightly, taking advantage of the new angle to bury her entire strap into you and thrust harder. “You’re all mine. Only I can use you for what you really are,” and if possible, her grip on your chin became even harsher, “a dirty fucking cockwhore.”

She worked quick. She always did. That left you no time to react as she pulled out, flipping you over and attaching one hand to your neck and the other back into your hair. Your legs locked on her waist, just above her thighs and shaking as Jenna pushed her strap back into your throbbing hole. A high-pitched whine left your drooling mouth from the restriction of air, eyes screwing shut when the roughness and fast pace of her thrusts returned.

You made eye contact, Jenna’s favorite thing to do when you were under her—second to spitting on your face and thumbing it all around—because it allowed her to see your face, the reactions you gave off to her making you feel so good. That glint in your eyes, one that you always had, let her know that she was the only one that would ever get the pleasure of fucking you the way you loved it.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you? I can see it on that pretty face, baby.” You nodded your head, eyes rolling back at the pain Jenna inflicted by roughly pulling your head back by your hair. She burrowed the strap deeper into your cunt thrust by thrust, taking the head out momentarily to rub against your untouched clit before sending your body back into shockwaves.

“Mmm, only you can make me feel so good.” Your voice was scratchy, given Jenna’s hand placement, but it didn’t stop you from giving her what she wanted to hear. “Only me?”

“Only you.” Your hands made their way to her shoulders, nails digging into her smooth skin because you could feel yourself on the edge. “Make me cum? Can I come?”

The grin she sent your way ran shivers down your spine. “Not yet, baby. Hold on for me.” Her hand left your neck to slap against your mouth, muffling the loud moans extracted from you when she thrusted faster and impossibly harder. Holding back became harder for you, and your eyes pleaded at her for some sake of mercy. Jenna cocked her head to the side, giving you a smug smile before removing her hand and kissing your swollen lips with the same passion that sent your mind spiraling on normal days.

She granted you the words you wanted to hear, and the words that she loved for the sake of her control over you. “Cum all over my cock, baby.” She locked your lips again as you finally untensed, moaning into her mouth and digging your nails down her back as that final wave of ecstasy washed over you. Your thighs were soaked, manuevering to hold Jenna’s face in your palms as she gave you one more kiss.

“Look at the mess you made, all over me and these sheets, hon.” She pushed your weakened body up against the headboard of the bed, and you got a visual of how much of a mess you had created. “‘Cause I make you feel so good, yeah?”

“Yes, Jen.” You reached forward to lock into another kiss, shoulders tensing when her bony hands ran up your face and fisting a ball of your hair into her palm.

“Now clean it all up.”

☟

hey guys :p

[blueberrybeomgyu]

virgin drug dealer soobin !!

+*:🫐:*﹤ warnings : 18+ mdni, intercrural sex, drugs (weed) / masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *

soobin who is your friend and dealer, and asks if you wanna smoke with him when you come by his apartment to get your weekly order. he promises not to charge you, so you agree, why not?

and when you’ve got that warm fuzzy feeling circling through your head, soobin lets it slip that he’s a virgin. you definitely don’t believe him – he’s easily the most perverted person who you know – but he swears, words slow and eyes pink, and he’s looking at you so intensely that you can’t stop yourself when you ask, “wanna know how it feels?”

he’s moving closer to you on the couch immediately, causing a lazy giggle to escape from you at his eagerness. sure you’re under the influence, but you’re not positive this situation would’ve turned out differently if you were sober (he’s one of your closest friends, and he’s so big and cute, who wouldn’t be attracted to him?), so you make quick work of getting your (and his, ‘cause he’s moving too slow to do it himself) pants off

you try to start with a little foreplay, but the second you see his dick – long and red, and there’s already precum dripping down the side – that plan flies out the window. you’re too desperate to feel him inside you to take your panties off, so you pull them to the side and straddle him, lining his tip up with your opening

“fuuuck–” he whines out when you sink down on him, voice thick and raspy, head falling back on the couch. you’re not doing too well yourself, having to take a moment to adjust to his length

neither of you last long, the feeling of him twitching against your sweet spot causing sparks to fly behind your eyelids. he’s babbling something like “s’ good, s’perfec– you’re so–” before he’s pumping you full of his cum, and it spills back out, mixing with your own as he fucks himself through it <33

✧･ﾟ: *

a/n : now im a drabble bot now apparently...

[woewriting]

bloodlines

pairing: wednesday addams | vampire reader word count: 1595 warnings: mdni, +18 only! blood mention/drinking, reader's a vampire duh, no pronouns used, thigh riding, small master x pet dynamics at the end. a/n: first wdw in weeks... just a small thing for my vampire fellas.

masterlist

Your leg bounced up and down, the almost inaudible sound of the heel of your shoes hitting the wooden floor annoying the girl sitting next to you on the bed, the movements of your legs and the way you chewed on your bottom lip enough to get her annoyed.

Closing the book, Wednesday turned to you, eyes alternating between the irritating move and your features.

“Can you stop with that infuriating sound? It’s distracting me.”

“Uh?” You look at Wednesday, eyes darting from yours to your bouncing leg in a silent answer. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice it.”

“Now that you do, stop it.”

“I can’t control it.”

Wednesday took a deep breath, bringing her hand to rest on top of your knee, forcing you to stop. Somehow, your leg was still shaking under her touch and now, a heatwave spread inside your body at the sudden touch, a bright red color threatening to take over your vision, a sharp pain in your gums.

You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths and trying to take control over your instincts. But Addams being so close to you with her almost unnoticeable perfume and hand on your thigh, it was hard and any small thing coming from her was enough to get you to lose control.

“You’re starving, aren’t you?” All you could do was nod, not wanting her to see the sharp fangs that sunk on the inside of your mouth. Removing her hand from your leg, you felt a weight being placed on top of your body instead. “Open your eyes, let me take a look at them.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“I wasn’t asking. Open them now and look at me.”

Despise the calming way she spoke, her words and demanding tone were enough to get you to do as you were told, unable to resist the smell she had; It was like a spell placed on you.

Wednesday brought her hands to your face, opening your lips to see the sharp fangs you were hiding, pressing the tip of a finger under one, a single drop of raven blood poking out of the small wound was enough to cover your lower lip with her movement.

“Wends…” You warned with a hoarse voice, controlling the impulse to lick the sweet blood off of your lip.

The dark, silky sheets under your hands ripping off around your nails, stopping you from digging the skin of her waist. Knowing Wednesday, she would definitely make you pay for a new set.

Ignoring the warning timbre in your voice, Wednesday opened her white blouse, dragging the fabric away from her shoulder area along with the strip of her bra.

“Take it.”

“No.”

“If you want to keep that snarky tongue of yours, I suggest you to stop fighting and just do as I am telling you to.”

The second you focused on the cold, pale skin, of her neck, everything around you turned red, melting as you caught the sound of her blood flowing through her body, the steady pace of her heartbeat, muffling every small sound that surrounded the both of you.

All you could hear, see and smell, came from the small girl sitting on your lap. And that was all that matters.

The red, warm, sweet blood that kept her alive. The blood of a Raven, Wednesday being the last one of her bloodline known to you.

Noticing the lack of motion coming from your frozen body, the Addams girl gently tugged you by the back of your head, bringing you closer to her.

“Take it.” She whispered; fingers lost in your hair. “It’s all yours.”

“All mine…” You replied, lost in your red reality, barely processing what left her lips, all you could hear, loud and clear, was the pumping of her jugular, the sweet blood rushing through her veins.

Leaning in, your nose brushed on the cold skin, taking a deep breath. The ghostly touch causing the other to close her eyes. You opened your mouth, enough for the tip of your tongue to touch her, a surprised sigh coming from Wednesday.

“I profoundly hate when you do that.”

“Are you sure? Because I can hear every beat of your heart.” You placed a kissed near her collarbones. “And the way your thighs are pressing against mine.” Another kiss, a little bit higher.

“Stop talking. It’s an order.”

You laughed against her, hands slowly moving from the silky sheets to her thighs. “You’re in no place to boss me around, Addams.”

“I thought you enjoyed being my little pet.”

“I enjoy more when you’re my prey.”

Looking into your eyes, Wednesday could barely see the color of it, dark red mixed with golden strings covering most of your iris, pupils dilated in a black color. The veins under your eyes, disappearing and appearing as if it was following the beat of a music, little did she know it was synchronized with her own heartbeat.

It always felt like that, to be under her spell, if felt paralyzing, something in the way Wednesday smelled and tasted like, so sweet it was like drinking honey.

For her, having your teeth sinking in her neck, poison spreading through your saliva turning the pain into pleasure in just a few seconds. She would never admit, but being your personal blood bag made the pain settle in between her thighs.

She needed you as much as you needed her.

Why else would she sit on your lap and keep you around? Allowing you to follow every single step of hers like a lost puppy, holding you on a tight leash, stopping you from biting others like a misbehaved puppy.

Gulping, she licked her lips, your eyes following every single movement of her body. She felt like an addicted waiting for the next jet of poison, it’s been days since the last time you fed on her.

“Did you drink from somebody else?” You shook your head. You tried to, actually, blood bags, human blood straight from the vein, animal blood that you captured with Eugene’s help; they all tasted like garbage. “Then why are you refusing to do as I tell you to?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

A small grin tugged on her lips. “I want you to hurt me.”

A gush of adrenaline ran in the veins under your eyes the second you heard her whisper, eyes filled with a specific glow that you almost never see in Wednesday: excitement.

The moment your fangs dug in the cold skin, a low moan escaped between Wednesday’s parted lips, the fingers in your hair pulling you impossible closer. The hot, thick red liquid filled your mouth, the iron taste almost unnoticeable, being replaced by a sweet taste that only she had.

Throwing her head back in an attempt to give you more access to her neck, she didn’t even notice that small rhythm her hips were following against your legs, rubbing herself on you. Her scent, stronger than ever, filling every centimeter of your lungs like smoke.

Moving your hands to her hips, you bruised the covered skin as you helped her steady movements. Opening her lips to take a deep breath soon became a breathless moan, your name escaping her parted lips as you drank more and more from her, the poison spreading through her veins as you lick the open wound, capturing what escaped from your hungry mouth before biting her again.

Wednesday was weak in your arms, the hot feeling in the pit of her stomach getting hotter and hotter as she rounded her hips on your leg, a wet stain on the fabric of your jeans as she came, eyes rolling to the back of her head and body falling back, being held by your hands.

Switching positions, you laid the small girl on her bed, dark silky sheets embracing her body as you laid on top of her to lick around her neck, not wasting a single drop of the precious blood that you couldn’t go without.

Kissing your way up to her face, Addams still had her eyes closed, a fainted reddish color spread on her cheeks as she came down from her high. When she opened her eyes, she was met with your golden ones, shining like a star in the night sky. She caressed your face, thumb swiping your lips to collect the thick liquid that covered them before gently sucking on them, maintaining the eye contact; a satisfied hum in her throat.

“Kiss me. I want to taste my blood on your tongue.”

As she commanded, you connected your lips together in a kiss that was soft at first, turning to bruising and desperate as her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, lips wrapping around your tongue to get more of it before she breaks the kiss, hands moving to your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” You asked, confused, as she tried to push you down, but you, being stronger than her, didn’t move an inch.

“I need your tongue somewhere else, and I need it now, so be a good pet and collaborate with me.”

Wednesday was nearly screaming inside, her weak body in desperate need of you, one of the collateral damages from your poison. And the way you smelled, the way your hands touch her body, it was a lot more than just the venom that rushed in her veins, there was something else in the brownish glow that stared at you. You smiled.

“As you wish, master.”

[curator-on-ao3]

Wednesday (Quadruple) Drabble: The Lost and Found

She had been lost before.

Moving as a child from the Illyrian side of the city to the non-Illyrian side, hope for increased safety as consolation for leaving a part of her identity behind.

He had been lost before.

Refusals overridden, his would-be captors gaining control of his computer to falsify assent for a descent into fantasy, life in unreality as corrosive as the battery acid that powered his radiation-damaged heart.

Starbase records made clear Spock’s betrayal and, once Una reached Talos IV, it didn’t take long to locate Chris— his illusion screaming in pain from fire-borne punishment, his true form immobilized in his support chair.

The rage she needed to defeat Talosian mind control came easy.

In the shuttle she’d… procured… Chris declined her algorithm to match his speaking voice, choosing instead to use a computer default, no intonation of anguish or joy, no movement in his scarred face or change to his mechanized, steady respiration as he answered her questions.

“My best guess is Spock exploited that you’d be away from Starbase Eleven for a few weeks. He knew he was disobeying my orders and committing mutiny. He did it anyway.”

“If the Illyrian doctor is willing to try, I understand the risks.”

“Leave Vina behind. She made her alliances clear.”

So it’s at an Illyrian colony far from Federation arrogance or authority that his DNA unfurls and re-forms. Genetic engineering is usually performed before birth, but this is his rebirth, no longer the Christopher Pike who upheld Starfleet ideals but a Christopher Pike who is wary of a Starfleet that would tolerate a sham court martial rather than search for a greater truth.

Is Una reborn, too? Her belief in something greater than herself, in a Starfleet that could, in fact, become what she had hoped it to be in her idealistic younger years, that belief is withered, gone, replaced by allegiance to people, not an organization.

His skin is pockmarked, his voice reedy, gait unsteady. Genetic engineering isn’t a miracle cure.

Her sense of purpose has telescoped from appreciation for differences to appreciation for those who share her values.

Are they still lost?

Isn’t everyone?

But to be lost together… a shuttle course laid in toward a curious-looking cluster of stars, his hand a comfort on her shoulder, her soft hum the music of his naturally-beating heart… to be lost together… is something like being found.

•

Christopher Pike drabbles: 3, 2, 1/?

[moongreenlight]

Need more secret wife please 😭😭🙏🙏🙏

WIP Wednesday? WIP Wednesday.

Secret Wife p3 SMALL UPDATE that I have been hoarding like a dragon with treasure lol (I am riddled with guilt)

It takes Johnny upwards of two hours sat alone in his car in silence to fully process what just happened. He’d tried to ask a thousand follow up questions in some rapid-fire babble, but he was met with a wall of stony silence. Goes on stupidly for well over two minutes until Ghost knocks him with a cupped palm on his temple. Little rougher than could be considered friendly, but nowhere near harmful. Served to bring him back to earth.

“Take a breath, sergeant.”

The low rumble of Simon’s voice barely rises over the dull roar of the cars around them.

“Fuck off.”

Johnny looks less gobsmacked than he feels.

“Mind your manners.”

A bite. He must’ve quit smoking around you for the time being. Made him more waspish than usual.

“Cannae believe you, bastard. Kept a secret tha’ big from us all this time?”

Simon took a labored breath in. A sigh like the stiffness of his muscles was creating a vice around his lungs. He threw a sideways glance back toward your car a few aisles over. Like he was making sure you were still there and situated. Pursed his lips and rubbed the bridge of his nose while saying something about how Soap was to under no circumstance take you up on the dinner offer. Turned on his heel and made his way back over to you without a goodbye.

Johnny had half a mind to disobey out of sheer bull-headedness but decided against it just before he sent you a message on his last day of leave. Deleted the text he’d drafted and resigned to trying to press Simon more about things when they got back on base.

He tried, persistent bugger that he is, to pester his L.T. to give up more information. When the two of you’d gotten married. Why he hadn’t said anything. Why wasn’t he invited to the wedding? Was there a wedding? Does anyone else know? All fruitless. Snubbed each time.

He would have been offended if he hadn’t come to know Ghost so well over the years. He’s cagey at his warmest, so it’s no real surprise that he’s kept this under lock and key. The real shock came from the understanding that it happened at all in the first place. Johnny had a hard time wrapping his mind around someone as kind and welcoming as you somehow getting tangled with someone as stoic and brutish as Ghost. He tried to conjure up infinitely many situations where the two of you met and the coupling made sense, but he never stumbled on one that felt right.

Your went into labor over a month early. Just a few weeks after the boys had returned to base. Four hours before the boys were due to board a flight that would deploy them for three weeks. It was the only time Simon had ever been late to call. Johnny was sent to go track him down by an extraordinarily eggy Price.

He found him ready to leave, rifle slung over his back like a soldier. Pacing the hall outside your room in the bay. Down a short corridor in the back that usually hosted surgeries. He was whale-eyed and hostile toward the sound of Johnny’s boots echoing across the brick. It was jarring to see him so agitated. His hulking frame tangibly vibrating through the pounds of gear he was sporting. He truly considered just walking away. Spinning some tale about desertion because that seemed entirely less daunting than trying to corner an animal like Ghost.

Johnny eventually got him to leave. It was a non-option at this point, just a matter of getting the big bastard into the chopper. Tugging him away was like leashing a feral dog. He was fanatical, tugging at the lead and choking himself the entire way across the landing pad. Didn’t stop snarling until he was pushed down into his seat by Price and made to shut up.

[fandomsfanatic]

Can't hear you

Deaf Wednesday AU

Enid: wens, you need to stop leaving your old used knives everywhere!

Wednesday: When I leave things in certain places, I expect to return to them at a later time, in hopes that my narrow minded girlfriend won't move them from the spot I expected them to be in.

Enid gasping, moving infront of Wednesday : I am not narrow minded okay! You cannot leave thing all over the place-

Wednesday, taking out her hearing aid: Forgive me, due to my diagnoses of hard of hearing I am struggling to hear your argument.

Enid in sign language: You can't just Take your hearing aid when you hear something you don't like...

Wednesday closing her eyes:..???

Eenid: Wednesday!

[jeoncopi]

• — wednesday — •

GET INTO IT: I’m not really sure what is this but I saw this jungkook again and so this came out lmao. (jungkook is kind of an asshoolee here tho..)

PAIRING: jungkook x reader

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

THIS IS A: drabble.

“it’s not fair! babe. let me make it up to you, hm?”

“let me go.”

“please, please, please listen to me.. babe, please.”

jungkook doesn’t seem to understand that what you feel is beyond upsetting.

how many times is he going to promise something he can’t even achieve?

“it was so simple. so, so simple jungkook.” you’re clearly upset.

“I know but—“

his arms are no longer around your body.

“that’s your excuse. ‘I know but’. everytime you say that, I know there’s some bullshit coming.” you pause. “just how many times you’ll keep this game coming up? am I some sort of game?”

“no! never!”

“so why you keep failing me like this? don’t say you’ll meet me in some place and not go. it’s your 5th time doing this shit and to be honest I even gave you too many opportunities to bounce back but you never do. only doing worst by each time. it’s embarrassing! I can’t even make plans even if it’s short with my boyfriend ‘cause he doesn’t wanna show up? embarrassing!”

“I do want to show up!”

“then why the fuck do you fail me each time?” your pierced gaze showing nothing more but annoyance with a bunch of mixed feelings. anger, sadness, disappointment, embarrassment, you name it. it couldn’t get any worst. “oh, are you gonna say ‘it’s for work’ each time I say why do you keep meeting this new girl? you think I don’t know?”

“baby I will never cheat on you if that’s what you’re implying.” tone so serious. jungkook really doesn’t want to mess things up. more so.

“fucking explain.” as sharp as you say it, you just want to know the truth.

“I.. um. agh! I don’t even know why I’m nervous, I ain’t doing dumb shit so why—“ mumbling more to himself, he clears his throat. “anyways.” careful of touching your hands in case you slap them away, he approaches you very slowly. surprisingly, you let him.

“you know how badly I want to say you’re the only girl in my eyes and that I could never love or devote to anyone the way I do with you. believe me when I say you’re the only woman in this whole world who has seen me like this and whom I treat like this.” eyes so clear, you could say he really meant this but still, you couldn’t just give in like this so you just let him speak only looking at him with the same pierced eyes. “but I hate cliche things and I know you already know all of this even if you’re mad at me so I’m just gonna say that the reason why I have been meeting this new girl is because of my manager.” he desperately pauses. “he does know I’m taken and baby,” he gently squeezes your hands onto his. “believe me when I say I make it fucking clear that I am dating YOU. like there’s no one there that doesn’t know I’m dating YOU.” he pauses. eyes glistening pleading for forgiveness while he continues to speak. “but somehow my boss wants me to get closer to her. I wasn’t even gonna speak, even look at her but he wants me and her to get close.”

“of all people?” you take his hands off of yours but he takes them back.

“I think he wants to fuck her if I’m being honest.” it’s his response.

“and that has something to do with you because…?” you still can’t believe he’s saying this shit.

“by his own words, he knows I’m the best at persuasion with people. he wants her to work with him in this big upcoming project we have and the best way to get her close is.. by talking to me.”

you’re silent. no words coming out of your mouth and that gets jungkook to plead even more.

“I swear to god say something.” anxiously biting his lips he gets closer to you but you just keep on staring at him without a word. “..babe.”

“how does that explains you dipping each we have plans?” he’s silent. “am I not your first priority? like I thought so! as YOU claim.” sarcasm wasnt out of this house.. was it?

he sighs. “you are.”

“then?”

his eyes.. they start scanning your entire body. up and down as you want to know what’s going on inside of his head.

“wanna fuck you right now.”

“what?” you just made the most disgusting face that could ever be created. “the fuck are you saying right now?! I can’t with you. i’m fucking done.” getting away from him, you head towards your room until..

he stops you by holding one side of your wrist. “no! babe- wait! l-let me just—let me show you okay? just—“ at this point he thinks he’s the most stupid man on earth. “let me show you why you’re always gonna be my first priority.”

“by fucking me?” you did a quick pause. “that’s not how you’re gonna show it! are you playing dumb? you literally can demonstrate that by fucking showing up to our supposed dates!” eyes becoming watery with anger. “if you wanted to fuck me so bad, then you’ll fucking be good to me and actually listen to me! — I won’t be giving any fucking sex right now or ever! I’m done.”

..and those were your last worst before slapping his hands away from him and smashing the door in front of his face.

jungkook knows he fucked up, he also recognized after thinking for a long time that he needed to grow up. also, that not all problems can be fixed with sex! just.. who the hell he has become to? to leave his girlfriend hanging there, paying less attention to her when he thought the relationship was so fine.. his wrong doing here apart from the many failed dates and promises, was… believing that she could forgive him anytime.

they weren’t kids anymore, they’re literal adults with responsibilities and as much as he was busy, she also is. the difference being, that she could make time for him while he focused way too much into getting his boss to hook up with this new girl.. he thought about how fucked up it was, but even when he didn’t agree with it at all, he still continued to help..

why?

jungkook himself didn’t even know the answer to it only that he just continued to act on literal command..

was this also too much for him? many things needed to get fixed.. but still, he hoped that his pretty, number one girl could ever come again and forgive him.. give him another chance.