#Really hope it's even remotely decent

[queers-gambit]

Neon Sticky Notes

prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 2.4k+

note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...

warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!

You knew he was struggling. Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.

It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.

By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.

However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.

So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.

Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.

You had an idea.

When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"

"Yeah, all good."

"Sure? Sound outta breath."

"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."

He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."

"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."

"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."

"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.

You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.

The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!

Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!

Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.

Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!

You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.

Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.

When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.

This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.

Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.

Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!

Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.

Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!

Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!

Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!

Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!

Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky! You even tried to draw a little duck.

Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!

Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!

Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!

And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change! A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass! A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully

Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.

The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..

Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!

And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!

Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.

The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.

You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.

"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.

"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.

He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"

"What'd you get?"

"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.

"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.

"Like it?"

"Are these... My hearts?"

He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."

"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"

He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."

"You'd still be Carmy."

"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."

"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."

"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."

You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.

Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.

You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.

Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."

Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.

Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

#carmy berzatto #carmy #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x female!reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #hulu the bear #fx the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear x you #the bear x y/n #carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x f!reader #the bear carmy

[flowermiist]

A warm heart - Prologue

Click here to read new chapters... ♡

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: Some time ago, you started a cooking channel on YouTube as a way to relax, have a proper hobby and teach others your favorite recipes as you improved your own culinary skills too. Fame wasn’t something you wanted, you were more than happy with your 50k subscribers... Yet you never thought you’d stumble upon one of them.

Word count: 1.k

A/N: So I’m really excited since this is my very first fic... I still haven’t planned it much but I’m already working on the first chapter as I post this!! If you have any suggestions or comments please leave them below. Comments and reblogs are always so welcome and appreciated.

John had gotten back from base two days ago, he had spent nearly three months stuck in Egypt with some CIA members and his SAS team. Time there went slow, it felt like it would never end, most intel they could gather was messy but the missions were successful.

Sitting on his couch and with his already third glass of scotch, John knew his stomach wouldn’t actually settle for alcohol and a cigar – It was too late to go out, most places would already be closed by now – except for some street food carts and dingy local pubs. So now, both his exhaustion of having spent his whole day locked away in his office finishing reports and filling out documents was mixing with his empty stomach and possible upcoming migraines making him way too irritable and tired to even attempt going out and getting something – Not like he was even in the mood to do so.

If this moment had been one of the irritated man’s childhood caricatures, a lightbulb would have gone on above his head as he remembered the few basics he had gotten from the grocery store in the middle of the road on his way home while getting back home from base. The captain let out a deep grunt as he got up from the couch, grabbing the empty glass of scotch and the TV remote to turn it off and walk to his kitchen.

Opening his pantry, he only saw the basics, some canned tomato sauce and a single bag of spaghetti. John sighed as he grabbed those two ingredients and hopes that it would at least taste decent enough not to make his headache worse. Internally cursing himself for not getting more things from the store – not being home for too long did limit a lot of his comfort and meal options when it came to getting back after a long time, buying food that would expire too soon before going to work would only mess up his pantry and fridge.

When it came to cooking, he wasn’t exactly an expert. Yes, he could defend his culinary skills by making a good English breakfast and a cup of tea but besides that? Yeah, no. Yet for some reason, John didn’t want to admit the fact that he had grown too accustomed to the meals he’d get at base or the pickup he’d order whenever he was home. Almost embarrassing that an officer specialized in unconventional warfare or any kind of missions would find it more difficult to cook for himself than to deploy to the most dangerous and broken places on earth.

Luck had jumped out of his window and the spaghetti ended up tasting horrible to say the least – Was it the sauce? Was it expired? Or did John just get horrible at cooking at this point? Too tired to care, the gruff man washed the dishes and went to sleep. This culinary war wasn’t over.

The following morning was busy, the captain went out for a morning jog then continued finishing up the last reports. His house had been too quiet for his own liking because when a man like John Price has gotten too used to the chaos and noise of all the places he deploys to and filled with all kinds of people, being in his own house feels almost surreal. Almost like he doesn’t belong here, like all he can handle are the noises that will not leave him alone with his thoughts eating him alive.

His own perseverance and stubbornness did not allow him to give up when it came to cooking, he was a grown man for crying out loud! No goddamn way he could be able to handle all the things he sees in his line of work but couldn’t handle himself in the kitchen – he thought.

Closing the other tabs on his laptop, he entered YouTube. After searching for basic recipes to challenge himself, he came upon certain channel – “Y/N’s kitchen diaries.”

Not even ten minutes later, he was already taking notes and focusing on every single detail.

John had prepared one of the recipes for dinner after yet another visit to the grocerie store, a less rushed one this time and somewhere that wasn’t in the middle of an isolated road. Meticulously following every single step shown by the woman in the videos – he liked her voice, it wasn’t like one of those annoying cooking shows from TV that would be filled with ads for kitchen tools and nonsense chatter, it even felt as if he had some company with the video – “Here we have our final result.” She spoke softly as she was showing the results, John looked at her video then back at his plate – It looked and smelled good. “As you can see the chicken is juicy and the smoked paprika gives it that extra flavor. Now our broccoli has that chewy yet soft texture, I personally sprinkle some salt on top of it but that is up to your liking.” A small pause before she spoke again, by then, John was already placing the plate on the dining table before grabbing his phone as the young woman spoke the final lines of the video. “Thank you for watching – don’t forget to comment down below if you have any suggestions or any recipes you’d like me to try. Bye Bye!” – The video ended and John had a small smirk on his face, both proud of himself and amused by how well this went. He clicked on the “subscribe” button and left his phone on top of the counter, walking towards the dining table and taking a seat.

The moment you got home, you kicked off your high heels, grunting from the relief as you stomped on the floor a few times – getting that relief of your feet getting accustomed to flat ground again. Putting your purse aside, you make your way towards the kitchen where you open the fridge and take some leftovers from yesterday and place the plate in the microwave – this gives you some time to rush to your bedroom and get your laptop to continue editing one of your videos, a new lasagna recipe you had been improving and recorded a video of.

While making your way out of your bedroom, you hear the little musical alarm of the microwave going off. You wanted to record a little something to start with the next video; yet you knew you didn’t have the enough ingredients to do so and neither did you have the energy to edit and record at the same time, not tonight at least – “Will do it tomorrow…” you mumble to yourself as you open your laptop and set your plate on top of the coffee table of your living room. – “Thereee we go...” you almost moan the moment your body falls down onto the couch, finally getting some rest.

You took some time to check your channel, seeing if there was anything interesting – YouTube was the only platform you uploaded your cooking videos to as you didn’t see it as a big deal but rather a hobby you enjoyed and relaxed with, the rest of your social media was pretty much private and not about your recipes or small food vlogs. Learning how to edit videos by yourself hadn’t been an easy task – but to you, it was worth it as it helped you clear your mind and not seem too crazy while talking to yourself in front of a camera. Before starting to make videos, you talked to yourself while doing tasks, eventually it just came into your mind – Why the hell not? You wouldn’t seem too crazy if you talked to a camera and recorded things for yourself, right? It was a good reason to talk to yourself, not an excuse. Starting your channel had been a rather spontaneous decision you took two years ago with the difference that nowadays, you are more frequent with your content than you were back then.

Sighing in relief, you turn off your laptop since you had finally finished the last details of the video. You were already stripping off your clothes on your way to the bedroom, not caring about tonight’s shower but rather tonight’s rest, you’d do everything tomorrow.

#captain price #john price #call of duty #john price x reader #cod #cod mw2 #captain price x reader #captain price x you #fem!reader #romance #cod x reader

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I am absolutely in love with your writing! The way you portray our boys is just *chefs kiss*

Anywho, I was wondering if I could request poly!marauders x plus size reader? Maybe she is very confident until somebody picks on her and she starts becoming obsessed with dieting and stuff. (I'm struggling a lot with that rn) just a bunch of worry and comfort from our boys.

If you don't feel comfortable writing this or just the prompt I gave it's okay. Ily!♡

Hi, thanks for requesting my love! I'm really sorry you're struggling right now, I know how hard it can be and hope you're doing your best to take good care of yourself. You're beautiful just as you are <33

cw: size insecurity, behavior that hints at disordered eating

poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The worst part is, you know they weren’t even really trying to insult you. 

You smiled as best you could, said your thanks politely, and moved on. Moved on outwardly, that is. Inside, the words play over and over in your head, like a song on the radio that gets worse each time you listen to it. It wasn’t that they were vicious, or particularly clever, or even wrong. It’s just, you’re not used to people commenting on your body like that. 

You know you’re not skinny. So does everyone else. Neither of you typically feel the need to confer about it. Every now and again, some cruel busybody will say something, but that’s fairly easy to brush off. They’re insecure about their own looks, they have nothing better to do than fixate on strangers’ appearances, they’ve probably been on diet pills since they were twelve. You wish them well and mostly forget about it. But what’s worse is when someone comes to you with good intentions. The idea of being perceived as pitiful or wrong—really, having your physical form perceived at all—by someone who seems to want the best for you is what really hurts. That’s what makes you want to hide, to shrink yourself down until they can’t see you anymore. To become the invisible status quo. 

It’s why, over the last few days, anything skintight or remotely showy has been relegated to the back of your closet in favor of things that hide your figure. Why you’ve stopped drawing attention to yourself with colorful makeup and instead started focusing on your health. Well, your health as it presents itself externally. 

“Anyone else fancy a dessert?” Sirius muses as you sit reading on the couch, Remus reading the next book in the series beside you. 

“Um, no,” James says, holding up a hand of cards from the game he and Sirius have been playing, “you only want to go so you don’t have to stick around and lose.” 

“Whatever my other, subconscious motives may be,” Sirius says guilelessly, “I really feel like something chocolate. Don’t you, Moons?”

That’s always a safe bet. Remus looks up from his book, intrigued. “I could go for some chocolate.” 

Sirius grins. “What about you, gorgeous?”

That’s usually a safe bet too. But you shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I’m still full from dinner.” 

Sirius looks cheated, and Remus cocks his head at you. “Really? Didn’t seem like you ate much.” He’s not wrong. Remus had made the most incredible feta pasta, it was borderline heartbreaking to leave any on your plate. But you’re trying to practice restraint, and thankfully, James had happily taken care of your leftovers for you. “Did you have a late lunch or something?”

“Mhm.” 

James looks up, eyebrows furrow bemusedly behind his glasses. “No you didn’t, angel. You said you didn’t feel like lunch after we had breakfast together, remember?”

“Oh.” You nod. So what? You’d had a late breakfast, and a decently sized dinner, and why do you really need more than two meals anyway? Who made that rule? You’re a bit hungry, but your body just needs time to adjust to your new routine. It’s used to overindulging. And nothing about today means you deserve dessert. “Right.” 

Sirius wraps his fingers delicately around your ankle, smoothing a path up your shin with his palm. “Darling,” he says, and he looks distracted as he runs his fingers over the old scars on your knee, but you know him well enough to recognize when he’s keyed in, “did you eat anything today, other than breakfast and that little bit of dinner? Any snacks or anything?” 

You can’t help the little rush of pride that goes through you. “No.” 

Sirius doesn’t look proud. In fact, he’s frowning, as are Remus and James. You change tactics. “I’m not really hungry, though.” 

“No?” Sirius' voice is unsettlingly gentle. “Why don’t you want to have dessert tonight, pretty girl?”

“Because,” you say, beginning to feel defensive (though you’re not sure of what), “I don’t need it.” 

“It’s not about need, though,” James says, and why is it beginning to feel like you’re in an argument? “It’s about what you want. Do you want a little something sweet?”

“I…” Yes. The answer is yes, but do you want it more than you want to feel good about yourself? “I think what I want more is to prove to myself that I can go without it.” 

Remus’ scars shift as his face scrunches in concern. “Dove,” he says, and you can’t decide if his tone is more reprimand or pity. You don’t like either option. “Where is this coming from?” 

“I’m just…I’m trying something new,” you decide. “I want to lose a little weight, okay? Nothing crazy.” 

“But why?” James sets down his cards, looking completely befuddled. “Angel, you’re gorgeous. You can do whatever you want, but we love you just like you are.” 

“And,” Sirius adds before you can reply, “we love you most when you’re happy. I sort of thought,” he says, lowering his voice like he’s telling you a secret, “that our late-night treat runs made you happy. No?”

“They do.” You pull your legs up onto the couch, away from Sirius’ touch. “I just…I think it would make me happy to be a more normal size, too.” 

Remus looks gutted. “Honey, you…it’s your body, and you should do whatever feels right for you to be healthy, but…we love you like this,” he insists, ardent. “You’re beautiful, I mean it, and I hate the idea that you might want to change for…well, for anyone other than yourself.” 

You hesitate. You’re not actually sure who you’re doing this for. When had you become one of the people who want for you to be smaller so desperately? “You seriously don’t think I would look better if I were thinner?” You’ve never been one to put much stock into what any men think of your appearance, so you feel silly for asking, but you’re in a vulnerable state. And really, don’t all guys want a girl that looks like the love interests in the movies you all grew up with? 

James looks you in the eye, letting you see the earnestness in his as he says, “You’re absolutely lovely, right here, right now. We wouldn’t change a thing.” 

Your answering smile is oddly watery. Remus makes an awfully lovely cooing sound, leaning over to wrap an arm around your waist and paying no mind to the chub there as he pulls you into his side. “Don’t be upset, darling. You know what I bet will cheer you up?” He smiles as you look up at him questioningly, kissing between your brows. “Some chocolate. How would you feel about that?”

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Pretty good.” 

“Yes!” Sirius pumps his fist in the air, already abandoning his cards and standing up. “I knew you’d come through, gorgeous. Now I think the more pressing question is, do we want chocolate pastries or chocolate ice cream?”

“Ice cream, obviously,” James says. “Before it gets so cold out we don’t feel like it.” 

“Not all of us suffer from weather constraints,” Sirius argues. “I vote pastry.” 

“Why would you bring ice cream up if you didn’t want it? Think long and hard, Pads. Are you going to feel like a frozen dessert when you need three layers to go outside in a few weeks?”

Remus rolls his eyes at you as you follow them out the door, letting your boys continue their bickering all the way to the store.

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x plus size!reader #plus size reader #plus size!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders oneshot #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders era #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fandom

[adorkastock]

Im an artist trying to take my own pose references for some difficult art, any advice on how to do it right?

Oh gosh I've been meaning to do a big post about this and I will at some point but for now here's the basic basics:

decent lighting - doesn't even have to be 'good' just decent. I used to use light through a slider door, directional will help show the forms. If windows aren't an option some directional lamps could help.

I do form fitting lightly colored clothing because I find it easiest to see what I need. Biking shorts, sports bras, fitted tanks, yoga pants, etc.

Contrasting solid colored backdrop - in my oldest photos this was a blue sheet hung behind me with thumbtacks. Make sure it contrasts both your skin tone and the clothing so you don't wash out anything.

Timer for your camera - most people will use cell phones which are all pretty good enough these days for ref. I know Android cameras have an option to open you hand and close it to set off the remote timer so check what your phone can do. Worst case set the timer and run back if there's not a remote setting. I did this for YEARS. :')

if you want a 'straight on' look with no foreshortening or perspective then you want the camera probably about 6ft away from you and as vertical as possible. Get fancy with boxes and books to prop it up if you need to.

The lens should be around or just above belly button height to eliminate foreshortening. If you WANT foreshortening just mess with the angle and placement of the lens. If you have a wide angle lens that can do some really cool stuff with low and high perspective.

Don't forget your face. Getting the pose is a nice start but future you will appreciate it if you can get a little into character with your expression too.

Okay I think that's all the very basics and I hope this helps! Obv if you have a friend, sibling, parent, roommate, s/o, whatever around they can help you get any very specific angle the way you need it. I hope you make great refs!!! Happy posing, happy drawing! 🕺🏻📸

#ask adorkastock #how to take pose references #DIY #artist help

[shiny-jr]

why are you in my apartment? (II)

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Jamil Viper, Kalim Al-Asim, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit, Ortho Shroud, Idia Shroud, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt, Lilia Vanrouge, Malleus Draconia.

Summary: Everything was supposed to be better when you got your own apartment to call home. So when you got home one day, why was was there some weird guys in your home?

Note: I know I tend to leave the relationships up to interpretation and not divulge into it too much, but know that Ortho’s part is NOT romantic. His part is purely platonic, more like he’s seeking another sibling relationship/dynamic. Whenever I wrote for Ortho, it will always be platonic, it will NEVER be romantic. [ Added ] FINALLY. It’s finished. I feel like it’s way longer than the first part despite there being the same amount of characters and trying to keep the content amount the same. On google docs it says it’s about thirty-four pages. Please, I really hope you guys like this one because I worked hard on it and it took a while. Plus I kept getting stuck on parts. 

Previous: why are you in my apartment? (I)

You worked and saved to be able to live in a spacious apartment in the downtown area. The buildings had decent security, the apartment itself was in a low-crime area, and there were a bunch of stores nearby for the basic necessities, not to mention you worked from home half the time and the other time work was just a few blocks away. Everything was perfect...! Until it wasn’t. Your seemingly perfect life was thrown completely off balance when you returned home and found your door unlocked.

Like any reasonable person, you were worried. Were you just forgetful this morning or had someone broken in...? Not wanting to call authorities right away and make a fool of yourself if you had forgotten to lock your door today, you carefully proceeded inside, with your phone gripped in hand and your makeshift key weapon in the other hand. Steadily you crept inside, looking left and right, your heart rate accelerating as you noticed a few things out of place. A remote controller not on the coffee table, a blanket you forgot to fold now folded neatly-- Just then, you heard voices and footsteps, and when the strangers entered your line of vision, you screamed as they jumped in surprise and exclaimed,

“W-Wait!”

SCARABIA

Incense...? Why did your apartment smell like lit incense and expensive perfume? You didn’t leave any incense and you didn’t have whatever type of perfume made the place smell nice–– The room was cleaned. On the living room table was a golden tray filled with neatly packaged and wrapped snacks and even a small box of golden accessories. It almost looked like a greeting gift someone left... If someone really left this, that would explain the whining and scolding coming from further inside. When you heard the voices and footsteps grow louder, a white-haired young man wearing lots of accessories appeared from the kitchen.

Coming face to face with a stranger in your own home was certainly a shock.

It was more of the negative kind of shock when you saw this white-haired stranger smile brightly and their eyes widen as they ran towards you with their arms wide open as he exclaimed with such pure excitement, “Ah–– It’s you! You’re finally here!! I’m so excited to meet you! I’ve wanted to see you forever––”

Of course, any logical person would not be as happy at this guy was. Stepping back, you held up the sharp end of your keys and reached back for the door––

Thunk!

A hand firmly kept the door shut, and before you could even think of swinging or screaming, there was another firm but gentle hand on your arm to prevent you from using those keys to slash at anyone. This second man must’ve appeared when you were distracted.

He had long dark hair and wore a hoodie. Whoever he was, he seemed to sense you distress, because he sent his companion a look. “Wait–– sorry about him scaring you. Can you lower those keys, please? I’ll explain everything.”

One game. You downloaded one game, Twisted Wonderland, on a whim, and now this duo of students claimed to be from the Scarabia dorm from that very mobile game. It was incredibly difficult to believe, almost impossible, if it weren’t for their striking resemblance to the characters and the magic they were able to conjure with their pen. What was more of a shock? They claimed to know you as the player. Of course before they knew nothing of your looks or true personality, but now here you were in your divine grace, the real deal right before them! You can be sure that they will take advantage of your kindness as you allowed them to stay until they could find a way to return home. But really, why want to go back when you were here? 

Oh, but you want to know how it’s like living with the Scarabia gang, hm?

Jamil Viper 

If he can handle not just the dorm but also duties at home including his normal responsibilities with Kalim, he can take care of you and your apartment. 

What’s he usually doing in the apartment? Well, to be fair, he is the one mainly keeping the place together. But when he isn’t busy, he’s taken a great interest in the dances and locations of this new world. Really he seems to enjoy learning about this world firsthand by exploring. 

It’s not rare for him to join you. In fact, you welcome it. Jamil is great company, and he’s always there to save you and Kalim from your own mistakes. Anywhere you go, Jamil is there to accompany you to help, he insists, but it might just be because he actually enjoys your company more than he’d like to admit. 

Funnily enough, he’s been offered various jobs by restaurants but refuses them all. Apparently they had a taste of his cooking and now want him to be a cook for their business. Although it is kind of funny to see Jamil repeatedly turn them down but accept their free dishes only for him to give them to you and Kalim. When asked why he won’t accept one job, he says it’s because he’s already busy enough as it is. But Kalim guesses its that Jamil doesn’t want to give up any free time he could spend with you. 

That’s right, Jamil does so much. He can do practically everything from cooking, to cleaning, the laundry, the dishes, buying groceries–– but there’s one thing he can’t do. Whatever you do, do not ask him to get rid of a bug. He’s probably more scared of it than you are. A bug got into the kitchen once and a mess was made by him trying to get away from it. Then all hell broke loose when the insect started flying. 

Oh, but don’t believe he’s all “good guy” playing the role of househusband. Huh, that’s so weird... the apartment owner just informed you that your rent was lowering. Just yesterday when you went shopping with Jamil, the store clerk gave you a huge discount. And last week, that annoying boss of yours suddenly gave you a promotion. But they all had this empty look in their eyes and spoke in monotoned voices... When you confronted Jamil about this, he calmly claimed to know nothing about those instances. 

Of course he missed you, but he isn’t as openly desperate as others may be. Did he miss you, you ask? He’ll smile and reply cooly maybe. Yeah, he totally missed you. Why do you think the house is spotless now? He was trying to take his mind off you through chores again. 

Yes, your vessel, Yuu, was a pawn he could use in the beginning. Well, he was right about one thing, about you being a diamond in the rough. There was really no one else like you in Twisted Wonderland. 

Seeing you before him, the true you, was nothing less than a shock. You, who’s vessel he used and tormented and eventually came to treasure, were here. For now matter how much his heart was picking up speed and now many thoughts raced through his head, he had to keep calm for you. 

When he heard rapid footsteps and Kalim’s eager exclamation, he warned himself to prepare for what lay ahead. Ignoring the calm feeling this strange space brought him, he immediately appeared in the scene of the commotion. Deep down, he held hope, he had a feeling, an idea of where he may be. All his worries seemingly vanished when you came into his line of vision, and he relaxed. It was you... and you weren’t a threat. A tiny bit anxious, really excited, even confused, there was so much going on but he forced himself to remain level-headed and he quickly approached you and held you back from attacking. It was you, really you, so real he could touch you! Hold on–– he had to keep calm and hold up appearances. This way he could be a trustworthy figure in your eyes. 

“Did you need something? You know I’m at your service... Hm? You want me to take a break? There’s no need. Besides, I’m used to doing this much, but I appreciate the sentiment. Now then, I couldn’t help but overhear you complain about a rude neighbor to Kalim. I can divine a solution to this... thorny problem if you just tell me their name.”

Kalim Al-Asim 

Woah, what a small place you got! Is this really comfortable? Even his room back home was bigger than the whole apartment! Don’t worry, he’ll make this place fun and comfy! 

What’s he up to at the apartment? Well, besides sticking to you 90% of the time, he’ll do anything you ask or copy you. Cleaning? He’ll help! Watching TV? Ohh, can he sit next to you? Going out for the day? Cool! He’ll get Jamil and all three of you can go out together! 

Like we just established, Kalim will follow you anywhere! Doesn’t matter if it’s just stepping out to the vending machine or going several blocks away, he’ll gladly keep you company. Plus, here in your world, he’s not known as the heir of a fabulously wealthy merchant family, meaning no one’s trying to harm him and Jamil has more free time too! 

While he may not be the best at chores like Jamil, he does really try his best...! Well, he has his other uses. He’s not just the heir to the Asim family name for any old reason. Believe it or not, Kalim is surprisingly good with money. That means he pays the bills, for gifts, for supplies, etc. And not even out of your pocket! He had on so much gold when he got here, he happily sold a piece or two to pay you back for your hospitality and now you don’t have to pay a thing for months! How much was that stuff he sold even worth...? Wait a moment, when did you get these expensive portraits on the wall and these brand clothes? 

You know how I said he’s beside you almost 24/7? Yeah, when you’re not working from home, those are the worst days for him. Jamil has to always keep an eye on him because if not, Kalim will march over to your office for a “surprise visit!” But when you get home after your shift, you’ll be greeted by the warmest smile from him as he practically jumps on you for a hug. 

Local “good boy,” too. The neighbors adore him because he’s just so sweet and kind. Even the kids seem to love playing with him, so he’ll be on the playground with them as you and Jamil sit on the benches. It’s because of Kalim that you met nearly every person living in the apartment complex, and somehow you got their favor because of the sunshine guy that’s your roommate. Also he’s the “bug handler,” meaning he cheerfully picks up any bugs that snuck in and bids them goodbye at the window or door. 

Kalim misses you way too much when you’re not home. It’s why Jamil is in charge of holding the phone, because if it were up to Kalim, he’d have you on call nearly your entire shift. But just know that even though he doesn’t like you having to go to work, he knows it’s important and he’s really proud you’re working so hard! 

Are you kidding? Your vessel, Yuu, is one of his best friends! He’s taken good care of them! Have you noticed? He loves your vessel, but he loves you way more! 

All logic went out the window as soon as he saw you. Immediately he became overwhelmed by emotion, he felt so much joy and utter excitement come bursting forth! All he could do was express his pure delight! 

Truthfully, Kalim hadn’t expected to see you! He was oblivious to where he was, unsure what would happen. But when he saw you–– all uncertainty and confusion disappeared. Immediately he threw his arms open wide as a large beaming smile broke onto his face, his eyes were practically glimmering with such excitement as he eagerly exclaimed any words that came to mind. It was you, it was you, it was you! He was just so so happy, happy didn’t even being to describe it. Words couldn’t explain the pure amount of glee he was feeling, it was practically oozing out of him in waves as his heart beat rapidly. His heart beat just for you, beating against his ribcage as if it wanted to reach you too, just like how he wished to embrace you! 

“You’re home!!! Ahah, I missed you so much!! How was work? Are you tired? Are you hungry? You must be hungry! Let’s eat now! I helped Jamil make dinner today, and your favorite tea! Hold on, I got your coat and bag! Jamil, they’re home!! Tell us everything! I’m so happy you’re back, I could just kiss you!”

As a whole...

Scarabia always makes sure to spoil you rotten, and they’re only two people so it’s not overwhelming. On one hand, you have one more level-headed roommate who would do anything in the world for you, one the other hand you have an easily excitable roommate who will give you anything in the world! Expect gifts and feasts galore from them, even welcome home parties after a simple day at work. The day could be calm and peaceful or it can be fun and activity-filled, just tell them what you want. Whatever you want, whatever you may need, they’ll happily give it to you. For your hospitality they’ll pay you back tenfold with material items, their time, and their affection. You trust them, don’t you?

POMEFIORE 

Perfume...? Why did your entire apartment smell of expensive perfume and scented candles? Was that the smell of lavender and apples...? You didn’t even own any candles scented like that. All your coats were hung neatly, the shoes you left by the door were organized, it looked like someone had just cleaned your apartment. On the living room table was a basket of shiny red apples, as if someone left it behind for you. All of this would explain the talk coming from another room. There were light footsteps, you couldn’t tell if they were getting closer or walking somewhere else, until a figure appeared from the hallway–– A short and pretty young man with lavender hair and big blue eyes stopped in his tracks. 

Upon seeing each other, you both froze seemingly in shock. You were horrified that some stranger got in your home, he seemed thunderstruck for some other reason you didn’t know. 

Shaking off the shock, the young man lifted his hand towards you, his blue eyes wide with disbelief as he muttered, “It... I... You... Hah–– They weren’t kiddin’... You’re actually real? This isn’t some cruel little dream or curse? You––”

Leaning back to avoid his touch, you held up the sharp end of your keys as you eyed him warily, “B-Back off pretty boy, I’m armed...! I–– Oof...!”

That... That wasn’t the door behind you. Your wrist wielding the keys was gripped firmly but gently, and you shrieked in fright when you looked up to see a blonde man behind you. When did he get there...?!

His green eyes peered down at you but his smile on his expression broke into surprise at your reaction as he used his other hand to make a shushing motion. “Shhh, shush, dear one, there’s no need to fear! Please wait, calm yourself. Forgive us for the intrusion!... Ahhh, it’s truly an immense honor, it’s a blessing from the heavens above, to be in your presence! Forgive me...! I’ve wanted to observe your grace ever since the moment I began to worship you...!” 

Worship? Wait... was this guy tearing up? “Are you... crying?”

“None of this will do! The whole wardrobe will need to be replaced, furniture will need to be bought, and groceries will be purchased for the refrigerator and pantry. How could anyone live like this? They deserve better! Especially for––” Another tall beautiful blonde man in heels came from the hallway, but his rambling stopped and his amethyst eyes widened once they landed on you, his breath hitching. “...You...” He appeared at a loss for words and he slowly stepped closer, afraid of scaring you off. Carefully his touch grazed over your cheek, apprehensive, as if the slightest contact would shatter you and you’d be gone. Snapping out of his self-induced trance, he retracted his hand quickly and added, “I apologize sincerely, my dear, you must be terribly confused. Please, allow me to explain.” 

One game. You downloaded one game, Twisted Wonderland, on a whim, and now this trio of students claimed to be from the Pomefiore dorm from that very mobile game. It was incredibly difficult to believe, almost impossible, if it weren’t for their striking resemblance to the characters and the magic they were able to conjure with their pen. What was more of a shock? They claimed to know you as the player. Of course before they knew nothing of your looks or true personality, but now here you were in your divine grace, the real deal right before them! You can be sure that they will take advantage of your kindness as you allowed them to stay until they could find a way to return home. But really, why want to go back when you were here?

Oh, but you want to know how it’s like living with the Pomefiore gang, hm?

Epel Felmier 

Just to even be allowed to stay with you has made him incredibly happy, so he’ll do everything in his power to help out! You can rely on him! 

What’s he up to in the apartment? Actually, he’s usually out. After completing chores, he’ll go out. He doesn’t like staying cooped up inside all the time, so it’s normal to find him trying to work out in the nearby park or with the garden he made on the roof of the apartment complex. Also, he’s interested by this world’s sports, especially American football. Look at all those strong guys playing a tough sport!! 

Epel is a bit of the jealous type, so he greatly treasures any time alone you spend with him and he tries to keep it to just you and him. His favorite activities with you are working on his garden, making goods from the products he grew by hand and proudly presented to you, and taking you when Vil and Rook are distracted to ride around town on this motorcycle! Yeah, don’t ask him where he got a whole motorcycle from.

He knows he doesn’t have much to offer to pay you back, so he does what he can. Making deliveries on his motorcycle, selling his garden’s products, maybe even winning bets by secretly racing, plus he begrudgingly joins in on Rook and Vil’s... work, whenever he can get paid from it or when Vil pressures him to do it. But, at the end of his day, all his handwork’s earnings go to you. Just take it, he’s not going to let you refuse! 

Really, he just wants to appear responsible and reliable in your eyes, that’s why he willingly does a lot of chores too. No task is too big or too small! Leave him a grocery list and he’s off to go buy and carry everything back himself! You mentioned how you wanted to clean the rooms, so he took it upon himself to deep clean the apartment! What else do you want him to do? 

Don’t let his adorable looks fool you. He’s a bit protective of you. Well, the other two are as well, but Epel is more openly hostile about it. He knows when to keep up appearances though. If he can guilt trip harassers or creeps with his looks alone so they stop bothering you, great. However, if that doesn’t do the trick, well... Let’s just say that he nearly caused a scene by sucker-punching a rando who cat-called you on the streets once. You two managed to get away but Epel was absolutely fuming. He wasn’t scolded by you or Vil because he defended you, but he was still mad he couldn’t “give ‘em hell.” 

Oh, he misses you fairly often. Like mentioned before, he gets jealous. Don’t your coworkers realize how lucky they are, getting to work with you all day? You’ll hear him mumble complaints like that often, but he won’t say anything out loud unless you prompt him to do so. Ease him into a good mood again by simply holding his hand, he enjoys holding onto you like this whenever you let him.

Do you know how annoying it was to be your vessel, Yuu’s, friend after you already befriended members from four other dorms? It was so frustrating trying to keep your attention when they’re all vying for it! 

Of course the first thing he felt about seeing the true you was pure disbelief. This couldn’t be real, could it...? Was this some sorta dream? If it was, he never wanted to wake up again. If this was a dream where he could stay with you, he’d be content with staying in an eternal slumber. 

When he walked out of the hallway and saw you standing there, he was starstruck. Pinch him, because this dream was too good to be true! Immediately once he came within a few feet of you, he felt that heavenly grace only the player wielded, he knew it was truly you. It wasn’t the puppet you played with and controlled back in his world. You were so... so... amazing? No, that wasn’t it, words couldn’t even describe it. You looked normal, your home was normal, you seemed average at best, but at the same time.... you were wow. It’s as if your entire being had him spellbound. At first, for a brief moment, he felt stiff before getting worked up, eager but anxious at the same time. When he tried to open his mouth and speak, he could only fumble over his words. C’mon, just talk, damn it! If this was a dream, he never wanted it to end. 

“Hey! Over here! Heh, surprised to see me? I got out when Vil was busy on the phone. I figured that maybe you’d be tired after workin’ all day so what better then to drive you home on my motorcycle? Hop on. What do you say we make some detours and stops along the way? We can stop at some scenic spots if you want?” 

Rook Hunt 

Ah, what a lovely nest you have! So this was your temple, the very grounds where you lived. As your loyal follower, he will care and defend this sacred place. 

What’s he up to at the apartment? Well... it’s hard to tell sometimes. Although he is extremely fascinated with your world, he wishes to learn and “see all the beauty in the world that is home to the divine player,” whatever that means. Exploring and being generally curious seems to be a big hobby of his. 

The guy is a real enigma. Wherever you are, Rook is sure to follow and even when you don’t see him, most of the time you get the feeling you’re being watched... He offers his assistance at every turn, he accompanies you everywhere and anywhere. Sometimes it’s a little creepy how he’s always there, but his smile is nothing but kind and his words of praise are loving. Not to mention he’s a very good listener, he’ll listen to any rant or simple chat, as he admires you with a lovestruck smile. 

From what you’ve gathered, Rook is from a fairly wealthy family. So immediately he offers his assistance. How does he do it? Where does he even get the money from? How? It literally makes no sense, it’s a real mystery. For all you know, he could’ve sold some priceless antique or something he had on him, which seemed extremely unlikely but how else did he get that kind of money? When you ask about it, he merely smiles at you and places the money for rent and bills in your palm as he assures you to not worry a single hair on your pretty head. He’s fairly affectionate too, embraces are welcome and if you’ll allow it, he enjoys giving you forehead kisses as well.

Rook also does his fair share of chores, but his main responsibility he’s placed upon himself appears to be your security. Your safety and comfort are of the utmost importance! He, like the rest of the trio, is protective of you, but he isn’t as hostile about it as Epel may be. Usually a warning and his presence with a mere ominous smile is enough to ward off any unwanted guests. 

Speaking of unwanted guests, not only is he your personal security but he also manages to find the time to be the apartment security. No one is going in or out of the apartment complex without him knowing, he even keeps watch of the outside apartment grounds. Ever since Rook arrived, there’s been a lot less break-ins and reported stealing. However, you have caught him cleaning his arrows way more recently, that leave the cleaning cloth a little red... Yeah, you know that he knows that you’ve noticed, but you’re too nervous to ask about it. 

Yes, he missed you dearly! It’s not very common because he’s always lingering whether you know it or not, but he clearly expresses joy whenever he can see you again. If you ask, he’ll deliver heartfelt words as he describes the pain of being apart from you for even a second! 

Ah, sweet precious Yuu, your treasured vessel. Believe him when he says that ever since he first laid his sights on your vessel, he sensed you, and was captivated by your presence flowing through Yuu! 

Oh, to meet the true you, was nothing short of a miracle! A miracle he may be undeserving of, but was something he desired deep in his heart. There was so much he wished to know, so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do–– all for you! 

His sharp hearing picked up on the sound of the front door with unfamiliar footsteps quickly. Immediately his heart rate began to pick up speed as if he were feeling the adrenaline of a hunt, but now he felt as vulnerable as the quarry, not the hunter. It was this feeling, your grace, that made him feel so... exposed. As if laying all his secrets bare. When he saw you–– he could easily sneak up on you seeing as you were distracted with his underclassman. When you accidentally bumped against him and he had to hold your wrist, he felt such a feeling of euphoria course through his nervous system. He couldn’t help but smile–– until you screamed. Swiftly he attempted to calm you, he couldn’t bear to be the source of your distress! It’s true, he shed tears because he was just so happy to meet you...! All he wanted to do was bring you joy and worship you. 

“You summoned me, mon dieu? Say the word, and I shall make your wish a reality... Heh, but of course I heard you! This loyal huntsman is forever at your beck and call! I implore you to tell me what you desire so that I may carry out your every command!–– Hm? You merely called upon me to see if I were present...? I see! Then if I may, may I be so bold as to offer you my company?” 

Vil Schoenheit 

Dearest, there’s no more need for fretting. He, Vil, the fairest one of all, will now handle everything from here on out. So just accept his affections and offer to help. 

What could he possibly be up to? Lots of things actually. He spends time both inside and outside. Of course he’s no pig, he does his own share or chores and helps keep the apartment clean, but he also spends a lot of time out. 

Watching movies, going out for lunch or dinner, simply taking a walk, or even going on a shopping trip. These are all things Vil enjoys to do with you and the others. You choose the movie; you buy whatever you wish to eat (he’s keeping an eye on your diet); and whatever outfits you choose to buy he’ll pay for, and more! 

Wait a moment, how the hell does he have over millions of followers on Instagram already? It’s only been a week! What–– what does he mean he’s inviting you to come along to a photoshoot and audition for a huge movie role he has? Yeah, somehow Vil becomes popular almost instantly, maybe it’s because of his looks? He’s practically doing everything he used to do in his world, now here. Movies, modeling, advertisements, he’s got it. What’s more? He’s getting paid handsomely to do it all, and where does most of that money go? To you of course! 

With the money he earns, he uses it to spoil you like crazy. Since Rook and Epel already covered the rent and bills, he pays for the luxuries. Luxury furniture; brand clothes; expensive jewelry; is that a painted portrait of you with Vil, Rook, and Epel, hanging on the wall inside a golden frame...? Your whole apartment is getting refurbished. He’d love to rent you an entire condo but if you insist, then he has no choice but to stay here in this one with you. 

Because of his elevating status, not only can you live in luxury but you also get to rub elbows with celebrities. However, that and when his fans target you, tend to be when his protectiveness shine through. It’s why he has Rook always watching you. Vil will constantly keep an arm around your waist when encountering fans or stars. Oh, and he isn’t afraid of snapping back venomously. You witnessed how on one occasion, his new manager subtly insulted you and in response, Vil both insulted him and fired him on the spot. From what you’ve heard, that guy has had miserable luck in the industry ever since then. “Any slight against you, is a slight against me,” Vil claims. 

Of course he misses you! If he wasn’t so busy while you were at work and he were left alone with his thoughts, he may have not been able to handle it. He has suggested you quit your job and allow him to take care of you, or if you wanted to work so badly you could just work with him somehow. It was a nice suggestion but you had to politely turn him down. It’s fairly common for him to kiss your cheek when he gets to see you after a long day, which leaves a lipstick stain on your skin.

To be frank, he did not care much, if at all, for your vessel, Yuu, at least in the beginning. However, that changed as time passed and he grew close to Yuu then learned the truth. Eventually he deemed himself responsible for helping your vessel and maintaining their health. 

To see you stand there before him in all your perfect glory... it left him stunned, you literally took his breath away. Here you were, your true self, your perfect self, before his very own eyes. All his work and effort into perfecting himself, caring for your vessel, and improving his underclassmen in Pomefiore into their best selves–– everything he did was for you. 

Now he understood how his fans felt when they were so starstruck that they couldn’t breath, couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak until their mind registered what was happening. When he ended up here and realized where he was, he got straight to work which meant feverishly cleaning and making immediate plans to improve your living environment. However when he saw you and realized it was truly you, his legs started moving on their own, drawn to your presence. Everything he was focusing on before seemingly vanished, as all he could think about now was you. When his fingers grazed over your flesh, he shivered, relieved that you weren’t cold and artificial like your vessel–– you were warm, and you were real. He was in such a state of bliss because you were here–– until he realized how confused you must be. Scolding himself, he prioritized your perfect self above all, so he would first calm you before proceeding to care for you and love you. 

“I had the manager set a seat for you right beside the director and the snack bar is stocked with your favorites. All I ask is you don’t indulge too much in the snacks, I scheduled a dinner for us to meet Rook and Epel after I film this scene... What’s the matter? Don’t you want to watch me work?... What? One of the cast members degraded you?... Alas for her. Who dare insult you? Reveal her name!” 

As a whole...

Pomefiore is another dorm that spoils you, proven by your new life of luxury with the company of these three who lovingly adore you and are fiercely protective of you. You have a pretty lavender-haired sometimes brash roommate who’s sweet to you, an eccentric blonde hunter who’s obsessed with you, and a beautiful blonde model who adores you wholly and wants to care for you for eternity. What more could anyone ask for? The trio is one of the more affectionate and direct with their feelings, so there won’t be a moment when you will feel unloved. Whether that’s a good or bad thing with them... who knows? You’ll continue to let them pay you back for your hospitality by caring for you, won’t you? 

IGNIHYDE 

Fire…? Oh god, you didn’t leave the stove on, did you? Or was someone here messing with the microwave or oven? There might even be a fire starting in another apartment in this complex! In your rush to see where the source of the smell was coming on, you failed to notice the new tablet and remotes sprawled out over the living room table. Someone had been here and left these devices. Hurriedly you rushed inside the kitchen, but there was no sign of anything having been left on. Checking the apartment group chat that gave notices and news for the complex, there was no news of a fire and the smoke detector hadn’t turned on. Wait… there were noises coming from a room connected to the hallway and that seemed to be where the smell came from too. Just as you were about to exit the kitchen, someone entered the same space. It was… the figure of a young robot boy with a mop of flaming blue hair…? 

“Aha! My scanner was correct! I did detect a familiar life force entering the complex grounds! I’m so happy to see you! Ah, wait––”

He stopped once you backed away, you eyed him warily as you held up the sharp end of your keys to warn him. Although you weren’t sure how much damage the keys would do against his metal body if it came down to having to defend yourself. Plus, you’re sure his blue fair hair, however that worked, would burn badly. Before you could ask or demand anything, he continued just as cheerfully, 

“Your heart rate is accelerating at a concerning rate, and so is your breathing pattern–– These are clear signs of fear. Don’t worry! Ah, this is so exciting! I thought I’d never see you like this!” Like a child who just can’t sit still, he practically danced, floating around you, seemingly not caring for the keys in your hand and he didn’t appear to be a threat. Instead he took your hand in his metallic palm, tugging you along towards your room as he insisted, “Come on, you have to see him! Let’s surprise him!”

See who? Surprise who? Your unspoken questions were answered when you were pushed into your home-office where you stored files and your laptop from when you were working at the apartment. There, you could smell the source of the fire, a long messy mane of blue fire that acted as lengthy locks of hair. 

Right now he had yet to notice you. He was far too invested in what appeared to be… building? There were parts and tools all around him as it appeared he had connected your laptop to various PCs and monitors. “What a cheap set-up they had… How can anyone do anything on one monitor? Tsk. This should make it more efficient. Their wi-fi speed is trash, so I gotta fix that too. Hah… Ortho, did you find whatever made that noise––? Uh…” As soon as his eyes landed on you, he froze like a deer in the headlights. His glowing yellow-eyes were wide as he gaped, dropping the piece for the computers in his hands. There was Ortho with the brightest eyes, radiating pure joy, and right next to him was… was… “Y-You–– T-This isn’t what it looks like…!” 

One game. You downloaded one game, Twisted Wonderland, on a whim, and now this duo of students claimed to be from the Ignihyde dorm from that very mobile game. It was incredibly difficult to believe, almost impossible, if it weren’t for their striking resemblance to the characters and the magic they were able to conjure with their pen. What was more of a shock? They claimed to know you as the player. Of course before they knew nothing of your looks or true personality, but now here you were in your divine grace, the real deal right before them! You can be sure that they will take advantage of your kindness as you allowed them to stay until they could find a way to return home. But really, why want to go back when you were here? 

Oh, but you want to know how it’s like living with the Ignihyde gang, hm? 

Ortho Shroud 

Do not worry! He already helps care for his big brother, he can care for you too! He’ll take good care of your home! 

What’s he usually doing at the apartment? Actually, he’s the one that goes out more often, besides helping keep the place together. In this new world, he finds everything interesting. Please teach him about your world, he wants to know as much as he can! 

Whenever you go out, Ortho is always the one to join you (he goes unnoticed thanks to the custom-made upgrade and hat his brother made him). When you go out for groceries. According to his scanners, these are the ripest and juiciest of fruits! When you go out for clothes. Here is a hologram and program he and his brother created to let you see how outfits would look on you without trying them on! When you want something specific. He’s searched the stock of every store within a 25 mile radius for the item you were looking for, and he’s located five stores with the item! Shall he call and have them reserve it as he leads the way for you? 

He’s a very kind and optimistic kid, so he’s won over a lot of the neighbors, meaning he gets a lot of little gifts he likes to give you. The elderly folks say he’s just the cutest kid, the adults think he’s such a well-behaved boy, and the other children seem to think he’s cool. If only they knew how down right mischievous, almost to a concerning level, he could be. He’s going to vacuum the apartment–– with a wind power blaster on max! Haha, just kidding~! If he did that then he might destroy this whole floor of the apartment complex! 

Although he is very responsible. Keeping the apartment clean, vacuuming, doing the laundry, washing the dishes, dusting, organizing everything, handling any mail whether it be digital or written, he even orders takeout and it’s actually good healthy food (half of the time)! He does it all despite you telling him he doesn’t have to, but he wants to! He would do a lot of this stuff for his older brother, so it’s no hassle. Although he would be really happy if you played games with him after! 

The only time he isn’t doing something for you or his brother, is when there’s a forecast of heavy storms with lightning. There was a huge crack of thunder followed by his scream down the hall. He’s deathly afraid of the thunder, hiding himself away in your room if you’re away. However, if you’re there, he’s clinging to you like a lifeline and won’t let go until the storm has passed. You and Idia are the only ones he feels safe with during a storm, so comfort him. 

Yeah, uh, Ortho isn’t entirely innocent though, he can actually be rather destructive. It’s rare, but he too has his moments. Take for example, when you were scared of the huge spider that ended up in the closet. No, wait, Ortho, don’t use that giant blaster––! Or how when your landlord mentioned he was raising the cost of rent and you complained, he later came back to retract that statement all while nervously avoiding innocent little Ortho. Ortho also acts as security, he has motion sensors that detect movement all around the complex grounds. It’s so effective that he was able to confront a would-be thief by the park and stop them from doing anything bad! Hooray! Wait a moment, you wonder… What happened to that pretty tree in the park? Why is there only a burnt stump left…? 

Yes, he missed you so much! Everyday while you work, you’re getting texts and the occasional call from Ortho. Please don’t be mad, he just really misses you! When your shift is done, he’s always there waiting at the lobby, swinging his little feet as he sits and waits. He visibly brightens up when he sees you, eagerly running over to hold your hand and take you home so his brother can see you too! 

In the beginning, he just wanted a friendship with you (through your vessel), him, and of course his brother. He just wanted to be your friend, be in your company, just like how everyone else smiled with you and spent time with you. Can’t he be your friend too…? 

He detected your presence far before you detected him. So when his suspicions were confirmed, he was over the moon! It was you, his friend! This was his dream come true: the real and authentic you, him, and his brother, all together in one place and living together like a big happy family! Just like in his favorite movies! 

As soon as he detected your presence, he had to wait and contain his excitement. He wanted this to be a surprise! When Idia asked him to go check the source of the commotion, he nyoomed right over to where he detected your presence on his scanners. He was so so happy to see you–– he didn’t care about the keys you were holding and he was certain his own flames were increasing. Oh, if he had a heart, he was sure its heart rate would surpass yours! It wasn’t that Ortho was oblivious, it’s just that he was so overjoyed that he didn’t mind your initial fear. You’d get over it quickly, he knows it. How could you continue to see him as a threat? You’ll recognize him soon, just as he recognizes you, then you’ll be happy too! Afterall, didn’t humans say joy was supposed to be infectious? 

“Happiness gauge has reached 100%... Yay, you’re here! Hi! How are you feeling right now? How was work today? Do you want me to place a take-out order or place a reservation at your favorite restaurant? I’m sure if you ask my brother to join us out to eat, then he’ll say yes! Hm?... How’d I know what time you got off of work? Hehe, I know your whole schedule for your convenience!” 

Idia Shroud

Ah, this was so nerve-wracking being away from his own room. Well… it’s not that bad since you’re here. Just leave him in your home where he can be comfortable.

What’s he doing at the apartment? You’re not completely sure but he does stay inside practically all the time. He’s almost always on some type of device, and will not-so-subtly try to linger around you if you let him. 

It’s rare to see Idia go out, especially by himself. However, if you ask him and you seem very eager to go out… well, he’ll impulsively say yes but he’s anxious the entire time. He’ll wear caps to hide his flaming hair and jackets or coats to cover himself. If you take him to someplace like an arcade or merch shop, he’s lightening up and actually enjoying the trip outside. 

Your work from home office? Yeah, that’s basically his office now too. Don’t worry, he’s set up a partition of shelves filled with a mix of your office supplies and the merchandise he buys. His side is all dark and lit by the screen light from devices, the room filled with scattered comics, video game cases, and appliances used by Ortho. Apparently he codes things, programs stuff, creates and sells, because every week there’s a transaction notification from your bank account. It’s Idia wiring you more than enough money for rent and bills. 

It’s fairly normal to see Idia shuffling around the apartment, sometimes forgoing the comfort of his bed or office to be in the same room as you. He doesn’t do much of chores–– he is a bit messy but at least he keeps it to his area. If you ask him to clean though, he’ll tidy up. But… don’t ask him to cook. He can’t manage that. If you do ask him, you’re getting served those really expensive fancy instant ramen. It’s the thought that counts…? 

You’ve never actually seen Idia get angry. But you have heard a loud and audibly frustrated Hah? from his room/office once when you texted him about some negative experiences. According to Ortho, Idia has turned red at times after hearing about your negative experiences. And he means literally, like his calm blue hair had flared into an angry red. Whoever caused those negative experiences whether it be harassment, bullying, or anything else, you won’t be hearing from them ever again. 

Even if it doesn’t seem like he does much, he does a lot. Creating personal service and wifi so you don’t have to pay companies, upgrading all your devices, connecting appliances to your phone like the lights and locks of the apartment and such. He wants to spend time with you, but he’s far too nervous to ask you… Which is why Ortho is always bringing you together. Sometimes if Idia has enough courage, he’ll call you instead of text you or purposefully leave something in your space so you can go to him later. He’ll help you out though. He’ll slow down or shut down the computers of your co-workers so it looks like you’re doing more work and you get a promotion. H-Huh…? N… No… He didn’t hack into your laptop’s camera or the surveillance tapes from your workplace just to watch you… 

Yeah, he missed you, but why would someone as great as you miss someone as miserable as himself…? Why do you think he’s always watching you through screens when you’re not around? If you mention missing you to him, he suddenly looks very nervous. Great, he’s been found out. Now you must think he’s some creep… as if his constant texts throughout the day don’t give away the fact that he longs for your company whether it be with your actual presence or conversation online. 

Ah, right, your vessel… Honestly, he didn’t like Yuu at all at first, but that changed later. They weren’t… that bad. Your vessel was really something special, in some ways it bested his own work on Ortho. Your vessel could be warm or cold, it had a heartbeat, it functioned like a normal human. Perhaps that growing fascination with your vessel was what drew him closer. 

When his gaze landed in you, the flames of his hair grew in heat and size, simmering dangerously high as he attempted to keep his cool–– but he couldn’t! You were staring, probably judging, forming negative thoughts already. Any step closer and his hair might flare up, hot enough to activate the sprinkler systems of the apartment. 

When Idia connected the dots, realizing where he was, he very nearly went into shock. How was this possible? Why was this happening to him and Ortho? No, wait, it’s not like he was upset. This was like a one in trillionth chance. Something lucky finally happened to him! But at the same time, he was freaking out badly. Breaking into a cold sweat, feeling his nerves spike 100%, he felt sick but at the same time he was so eager he could scream! The two things preventing him from breaking down under the weight of all these emotions, was his little brother and seeing the state of this place. What’s with these simple appliances? No offense but your wifi sucks. Oh god, what kind of PC was this? How do you even play any games on something this simple? This was real beginner tutorial level stuff. Seriously? Don’t you have anything better? Which is how he became so engrossed in improving everything he could get his hands on. He was so focused on improving your things that he didn’t even notice you were here, and so when he did finally notice you, he was right back at square one with the flood of emotions rolling back in. 

“Someone will get hurt? Nahhhh. I mean, you know, it could happen. The probability is there. Stuff happens, that’s life, isn’t it? N-No, that doesn’t mean I’ll do anything to them… Anyway! You don’t owe anything to those normies. Seriously, why do you even care about your coworkers? It’d be so much better if you just always worked from home. They just try to boss you around, unlike me and Ortho. Tsk. They’re so annoying. Especially with how that one loser told you to get him a coffee. Huh? H-How do I know that…? Um….” 

As a whole... 

Ignihyde is probably the most vigilant of all the dorms. They’re always watching, even when you think they aren’t. You’re kept under 24/7 surveillance, but it’s not like you know that. Plus, it’s for your safety! Don’t you know how many creeps are out there? It’s okay though. You have a young and powerful robot boy who looks up at you with nothing but respect and admiration, and an intelligent introverted shut-in who’s obsessed with you but sometimes far too nervous to approach you himself. Not just anyone could get close to this brother duo. You’ll have a lot of fun with them and they’ll be sure to keep you entertained. They consider you family at this point, you know? You’ve offered them your hospitality and company, surely you think of them as family too, don’t you? 

DIASOMNIA 

Flowers…? The fragrant smell of nature permeated through your apartment. Quickly you found the source of the aroma, which came from some flowers in a vase in the living room. Flowers which you never collected or were gifted. It was a bouquet of mismatched plants, made of some poppies with missing petals, crumpled daisies, red roses so dark in shade they were almost black, and strangely enough there were even thorns in the bunch. Everything was neater than when you left it. No dust, no stray blankets, everything was orderly. The distant sound of chatter filled your ears, coming from somewhere within the kitchen. And with that– Oh god, what was that stench? Was something from the kitchen burning? Were the people here trying to burn down your apartment with the stove?

“I will be the one responsible to check! If I cannot even do something as simple as ensure the safety of the player’s abode, then I have no right to even serve them! For––” The man stopped, halting his marching as he exited the kitchen and came face-to-face with you.

You froze in fear, warily eyeing the tall with light-green hair slicked back. Not only were you frightened of this man who was obviously much stronger than you judging by his build, but this guy had also been talking to someone. There were bound to be others. As his yellow-green eyes widened and his mouth opened, you were struggling to swiftly take out something that may help you. In one hand you held your phone, in the other your keys. Just as you decide whether to call someone for help or try to defend yourself with the sharp end of your keys, the man does the unthinkable––

He starts bawling. This grown man who looked so intimidating and stronger than you, just started sobbing for no apparent reason! Too stunned by what was occurring, you failed to act as he got up close immediately. Yet he didn’t touch you, but he peered down at you as he furiously wiped away the tears in his eyes. “Wait!!! Please… Please, forgive me!! N–Not only have we barged in on your sacred dwelling unannounced, but I–– I must’ve alarmed you!! It’s merely–– I’m honored beyond belief to finally be in the presence of your true self!! How could I be so lucky? What good deed did I do to deserve this opportunity?!”

What? It was safe to say that you no longer felt threatened. Just… bewildered, and definitely still uneasy.

“Sebek, why are you–– Oh…” Right then, another figure emerged from the kitchen. A calm sleepy looking man with silver hair ambled into the room, but his eyes widened upon landing on you. Slowly he approached, gaze fixated on you, as if in a trance. Yet… he wasn’t very threatening. He had this peaceful air around him. You were still hesitant, but you had your phone and keys at your disposal. Upon getting closer, he lowered his head as if bowing while he spoke, “I apologize for the fright he must’ve given you. Father said this was the moment we had all been waiting for but I didn’t believe he meant… this.” His tone was monotoned, but he smiled, his expression showing his happiness but his voice didn’t match. “I’m so surprised… but so happy too. Ah, Father must be waiting to see you then…!”

With little to no room for arguments, the two men flanked your sides, and hurriedly escorted you to the kitchen. The closer you got, the heavier the smell became. Oh god, it was so bad–– Inside you saw a mess near the oven. There were bowls, cups, spoons, flour, and a tall leaning to the side abomination that could’ve only been a cake only discernible by the recipe page beside it. There was… no one here? Wait… Looking up, you were surprised to see a short guy dangling from the ceiling like a bat–– how was he even doing that?

When your gaze landed on him, he gave a grin, revealing tiny fangs. He lowered himself a bit so dangled upside down in front of you, his black hair with magenta highlights shifting with his movement, his large deep red eyes peering down at you. Judging by the oven mitts on his hands, he was likely the culprit for the mess and the cake as well as the smell of smoke most likely from the oven. But he didn’t seem to care too much for that right now, instead he was focused intensely on you. “There you are! You finally came! I was wondering when you were going to return. I’m sure these two youngins gave you an enthusiastic welcome! As you can see I’ve baked you a cake as a welcome gift from myself. Don’t worry too much about the mess, I’ll clean that up and you can try my cooking! Ah, don’t be so scared~” He floated down from the ceiling until he was standing upright in front of you. The short man was odd, there was something off about him, but he merely patted your head as the over mitt floated off his hand. “Surely you must recognize us by now. So, you know that there’s one more person waiting for you, don’t you?”

That was how you found yourself trapped in a room with one of them. The three you met were so excited to meet you, but they were just as eager for you to see the final fourth one of them. You found him wandering your study, admiring the objects and furniture but not touching, as if he were appreciating the priceless displays in a museum. That is until you, the most precious treasure of all, appeared in his vision. You get it now, you understood why people were nervous around him. He just had this air of elegance and superiority. The tall and extremely intimidating man with the black hair looked down at you with his green eyes, at first surprised before he smiled such a soft smile that quickly became a more menacing looking one. Although he may have just been excited and he might have not meant it to look menacing. Then, he spoke, “It feels like I’ve waited an eternity for this moment with you… I’m uncertain if it was by one of my attempts, mere chance, or by what I hope was your longing to see me as well, that called me forth and brought me and my companions to your world. I’ve dreamt of this moment countless times, ever since you first graced me with your presence through your vessel in my world. Although, I realize I am undeserving, that there’s the possibility I may have arrived here by mistake, but I am determined to make the most out of it. So, please grant my wish, I wish to stay beside you for an eternity. If you accept me, I’ll be forever grateful and remain loyal until the very end of time.”

One game. You downloaded one game, Twisted Wonderland, on a whim, and now this group of students claimed to be from the Diasomnia dorm from that very mobile game. It was incredibly difficult to believe, almost impossible, if it weren’t for their striking resemblance to the characters and the magic they were able to conjure with their pen. What was more of a shock? They claimed to know you as the player. Of course before they knew nothing of your looks or true personality, but now here you were in your divine grace, the real deal right before them! You can be sure that they will take advantage of your kindness as you allowed them to stay until they could find a way to return home. But really, why want to go back when you were here? 

Oh, but you want to know how it’s like living with the Diasomnia gang, hm? 

Sebek Zigvolt 

Worry not, he will serve you just as he serves the young master! He, Sebek, will wholeheartedly dedicate himself not only to being of assistance to you but also to defending your abode!! 

What is he doing at the apartment? Serving you, of course! In everything he does, he does for you. Cleaning, cooking, shopping. You actually have to command him to do something for himself, or else he’d be taking care of you non-stop. 

Sebek is one of the clingiest members by far. You going out shopping? Say no more, he’ll carry all the bags! You want to take a stroll? He shall accompany you and hold your umbrella to protect you from that wretched sun! The sidewalk is too crowded? Everyone move aside, make room!! It’s terribly embarrassing sometimes, so you have to remind him to try and not attract unnecessary attention. If you ask him why not do something he enjoys for once, he immediately responds with “But… I enjoy serving you…!” 

Yes, Sebek enthusiastically does many of the chores and he takes care of the cooking with Silver. Don’t underestimate his dedication to fulfilling your every command. He’s loud so if you ask him to be quiet for a moment, he'll stay absolutely silent until you give him permission to speak again. If you mention having issues with someone at work, he’s marching straight over and only you can stop him before he gives that poor person a multiple hour long lecture mixed with scoldings and praises of you. Say you’re hungry, and he’s immediately in the kitchen starting to cook a whole buffet. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you, you know. 

Speaking of food, like mentioned previously, Silver and Sebek handle the food meaning they make your lunch. If it weren’t for Silver placing some restrictions, Sebek would be giving you enough food for everyone on the floor you work on. Still, he makes sure you have more than enough. He’s packed a healthy appetizer and a good main dish paired with a side dish! Oh, and here’s a portable mug with freshly brewed tea! 

He says goodbye at the door when you’re leaving for work but it’s a long goodbye because he’s following you through the halls, down the stairs, all the way towards the street. No, no, he cannot follow you this time. Annnnd he’s still following. You implemented a rule for all four of them, they are not allowed to enter your workplace when you’re busy. Before the rule was implemented, Sebek tried barging in more than once. After the rule, he tried to get a job as a security guard for the building. Thankfully, he was rejected because he just wanted to guard one floor which was the one you worked on. He takes matters concerning your security seriously, you must text him at least once every thirty minutes so he knows you okay! At the very least, you haven’t seen him hurt anyone just to keep you safe. And you’re sure he hasn’t harmed anyone… right? 

If it’s not obvious by now, Sebek probably has the hardest time when you leave. You haven’t seen it, but since the large portrait he’s commissioned to have placed in his room is not complete yet (he also asked for one of Malleus), he keeps a locket with your picture around his neck. Every once in a while when you aren’t around, others will catch him gazing fondly at your image. The second your shift is done, he’s somehow already in the elevator waiting for you. If the others manage to convince him to wait at home, you arrive to see him standing rigidly at the front door like a soldier waiting to be given commands. He has the brightest smile as he greets you loudly and enthusiastically. Give him a head pat for his good work. 

Ah, yes, your vessel Yuu. He’s proud to report that he served your vessel as well!! Although every time he recalls how he used to view your vessel as a mere human of no significance, he scorns himself. If only he wasn’t so blind, if only he realized your importance earlier he could’ve spent much more time in your graceful presence!! That’s the only regret he has concerning your vessel. 

Oh, the pure joy he felt upon seeing you––! The overwhelming feeling of your grace washing over his entire being filled him with such bliss! Why, he was simply so thrilled, so shocked but delighted that he was moved to tears!!  

When Lilia requested that he guard the front door, he immediately did so. How astute of sir Lilia, he was right, the door had to be guarded in the case that someone arrived! Sebek volunteered to do the job, wishing to take the task instead of Silver. That way he would be the first to see who came through the door! What he didn’t expect was for the player he practically worshipped to be there! Why, it sent him into such a shock, making his jaw drop! That’s when he burst into tears, awestruck by your presence that overwhelmed him!! All his time that he devoted to training in combat, learning from various classes, teaching himself useful skills, it was not just for the young master Malleus but also for you––! You were the only other person he could hold in such high regard!! 

“My liege!!! I welcome you home!! I apologize for not being present today to escort you home! I envy my companions who were able to bask in your wonderful presence while escorting you here safely…! Tsk–– However! I’ve spent my time wisely. I’ve cleaned the entire apartment while everyone was absent! Additionally, I’ve prepared everything necessary for dinner! Thank you for working hard today once again!! I sincerely hope that my measly efforts are able to lift some responsibility off your shoulders!!” 

Silver 

Ah, so this is your home… It’s very nice. He will do his best to protect it. Please, rest assured, he will defend you and your home until his last breath. 

What’s he usually doing? Well, when not volunteering to do chores, he’s sleeping. Silver being classic Silver. He tries really hard to stay awake but your home is just… so comforting. And your presence is so relaxing, how can he not just… be lulled into a… deep sleep…

Silver is probably the best person to have with you. He’s calm and manages to charm everyone without even trying, not to mention he’s the only human in the group. He’s grateful whenever you allow him to go with you. It gives him an opportunity to learn more about you, your homeland, and the humans around. Like the rest of the group, he sometimes has difficulty understanding human customs despite being human. Forgive him, he was raised by fae. Please, teach him? 

Believe it or not, it’s Silver who’s the most beloved by the neighbors. They’re all crazy over him, especially the women. The old ladies love to pinch his cheeks because he’s such a gentleman, the mothers wish their sons were like him, the younger women all try to flirt with him all the time, even the children adore him because he’s just like the prince in their fairytale books! Whenever they give him gifts, which is often, Silver doesn’t mind sharing with you. In fact, he actually prefers it if you had the gift. 

Ah, the animals. Silver really is like a magical prince. For some reason, animals just flock to him. On more than one occasion, you’ve caught them helping Silver with chores. Birds moving wet clothes to dry on the balcony, squirrels helping him sweep up dust, etc. How does he do it? You have no idea. While you were at work once, a pair of pigeons delivered you a bouquet of flowers with a note simply reading: To my beloved. From, Silver. Knowing Silver, it probably wasn’t even his intention to be romantic. He probably just saw some pretty flowers he wanted to give you. 

Yes, he’s very chill and it’s difficult to tell how he feels by his expression. In fact, you’ve only seen him get angry once. It was at a cafe, seated at a small table as you awaited your orders to collect the food and meet the others elsewhere so you could have a picnic. You had placed your purse on the back of your seat as Silver sat nearby, dozing off a bit. You weren’t paying attention as you waited for your order number to be called, when a stranger strolled by and reached for your unattended bag–– Never before had you seen Silver snap fully awake so quickly before. Nor had you ever seen his face contort into anger as he gripped the would-be-thief’s wrist before he could even touch your belongings. The situation ended peacefully from what you remembered. But when you weren’t listening, Silver made sure to inform his Father and Master Malleus, which led the two to properly punish the thief without you knowing. 

Yes, he did quite miss you… but he doesn’t want to bother you when he knows you are busy. He’ll only act clingy if you allow it and if you spare time for him. To him, it doesn’t matter what you’re doing. You could be looking at another person, but as long as he’s in your presence, then he’s content. Although… he wouldn’t deny any attention you do decide to give him. 

Yes, he knew your vessel Yuu. Just as he was training to be a knight worthy to serve and protect Master Malleus, he would also do the same for your vessel. In his eyes, you were like the royalty a knight should devote themselves to. 

Of course seeing the true you for the first time would put a smile on his face. Do you realize how difficult it is to actually get Silver to visibly smile? If this was merely a fantasy formed by his desires in his dreams, he never wanted to wake up again. 

When the sound of Sebek’s loud sobs reached his ears and when Lilia gave an amused glance at him, Silver took both of these as a sign to investigate. He and Sebek had no idea where they were or what was going on, but Lilia and Malleus seemed content, even absolutely delighted to be here. Wherever here was. If they were so happy to be here, then perhaps he shouldn’t be so worried. Then he saw you in front of his crying companion, and it all made sense. They had sensed your presence and knew you would be here. Right then, it felt like he was having an otherworldly experience, just by seeing you. It felt like this couldn’t be real, like this was far too good to be true–– yet here you were. His legs moving on his own, immediately drawn closer until he found himself bowing and smiling up at you. 

“Thank you for allowing me to escort you to work today. I’m very happy right now… Hm? I don’t look happy? But I’m smiling? Oh… am I not smiling? Apologies. Please know that being beside you with the privilege of being your protector is everything I’ve dreamed of. If I were to get injured or worse by defending you, I would not mind. I would risk every part of my being just to see you safe and smiling… Ah–– that’s both sappy and concerning you say? But I’m only speaking how I feel…” 

Lilia Vanrouge 

Oh, don’t fret, little one! Lilia is here now. Not only will he keep all these young ones in line, but he’ll be sure to care for you and love you. 

What’s he up to around the apartment? Honestly, you’re not sure. You rarely see him cleaning, but somehow he keeps the apartment spotless. When up to his own devices, he seems greatly intrigued just by the things of his world so he usually explores and shows you his finds or new knowledge. He mentioned something like the unknown making him feel young again. 

It’s like having a dad all over again, but a very fun laid back kind of dad. This includes lovingly teasing you for almost everything, embarrassing you by pridefully showing you off whenever the opportunity presents itself, and the talks that include wisdom from a very ancient fae. You’re still stuck with his horrible cooking though. 

Lilia probably fits in the most, which is strange considering he’s a fae with a vast past. People don’t seem to look twice at his ears because they assume it’s a prop or they’re hidden by his hair. Not to mention the highlights in his hair combined with his attitude and how he takes a liking to grunge/punk clothes. If you’d pass him on the street you’d have no idea he was from a magic world. Additionally, he seems to get along with most people. It’s very weird to see this short guy wearing edgy fashion and somehow relating to the elderly war veterans in the apartment complex. Although you don’t mind, since he has their favor and they give him extra supplies for the apartment. 

He makes sure you’re loved. Cheek kisses, head pats, checking in on you after a long day, willing to do whatever it takes to cheer you up. He’s easily the most openly affectionate out of the group. If you’re tired, he’ll hum or sing you a lullaby if you ask. He can be surprisingly gentle and soft. Once after a full day out with all of them, you promptly passed out upon returning home as your head lay in his lap and he gazed down at you with nothing but eyes filled with adoration. Malleus was nearby, his fingers weaving through your hair as he felt content at seeing you so peaceful. Meanwhile the bickering between Silver and Sebek had stopped, both had fallen asleep on the other couches too. It was a picturesque scene. 

Lilia prefers that you don’t see a certain side of him, however, he won’t scramble to hide it. If you find out then you find out, but you’ll still have him. Lilia can be rather… cruel. That’s probably something to be expected of a fae who’s seen war and experienced so much. Any threat to you is quickly snuffed out. He’ll give a firm talk to co-workers who treat you badly, he’ll hunt down creeps who tried to take pictures of you or touch you in public, and if someone ever dared try to mortally wound you? May whatever higher being there may be have mercy on their soul once Lilia gets his hands on them. 

Oh, Lilia missed you deeply. In fact, it’s fairly common for him to try to guilt-trip you into working from home today just so he can be with you. Sometimes it’s hard to say no to his cute face and crocodile tears… When you do go and return, you immediately are greeted by a warm hug as he asks to hear about your day. 

Ah, your cute little vessel Yuu. Yes, he knew them well. Ever since day one, you had intrigued him greatly. In his several millennia long lifetime, he had never once met someone like you. You were truly one of a kind, and he wanted to know you better. 

As soon as he appeared, he realized almost immediately that he was in a place dear to you. Although it was faint, he could feel your presence, meaning you had been here. Well, what an unexpected turn of events! This was not how he expected his day to go! In the meantime, he’d prepare something sweet to welcome you with. Let’s see here, what ingredients were in the kitchen… 

Of course he knew it was you at the door! It was why he sent Sebek first then Silver, wanting the two to see you first before he could later keep all your attention and coo over you. Ah, he was patient as it came with age, but he hadn’t felt this impatient in a long time. He put a lot of effort into this… cake, for you! He truly hoped you liked it. Now to surprise you! And it certainly was a surprise to see him floating from the ceiling, and he relished in your reaction, and your presence–– oh, your sweet grace! He can’t ever remember a time where he felt this happy to see someone before. He just can’t wait to take you under his wing, fret over you, and just spoil you silly! 

“Good morning, my little bat! Breakfast is almost–– hm?... You’re already about to leave for work? My, my, is it really that late in the morning already? How time flies. Are you not working from home today? Oh… but I planned to spend time with you during your break. I even saved so you can spend at any cafe we pass by… Of course, it’s fine, I know you’re busy and you work hard. But everytime you go, I get so lonely I can c-cry… Oh? Last minute change of plans? I see! Heheh, I’ll be sure to spoil you with whatever you want on your break then!” 

Malleus Draconia 

So this building is your residence?–– No? Only these few rooms and the rest belong to others? Ah… but you deserve much more. Shall he, Malleus, ward off the rest of the humans and demolish this complex to have a castle built in its place? No? As you wish, he’ll leave you to reside in this apartment since you find it satisfactory. 

What could he possibly be doing in your apartment? A majority of the time, you have no idea. He’s just following you endlessly so long as you allow him to. You never really see him do chores, perhaps because his retainers do it for him or he does it when you aren’t looking. Really anything you want to do, he’ll gladly join you. Although you’re not certain what he does when he’s not with you… 

As mentioned before, he’ll always try to follow you simply because he does not want to be apart from you. At first it was a little unnerving but you quickly got used to it. He’s able to go out with little to no trouble, since most people think his horns and ears are some strange prop, plus you made him and the others promise to not use magic in public. One good thing about his presence is he always scares off unwanted company. Even if people don’t know who he is, he’s intimidating enough with the way he carries himself. 

Malleus believes you deserve the world and more. So he covers all costs. Will this pile of gold from his treasury do? What is he thinking? You deserve much more than this puny sum! No, you insist, that’s more than enough. As to how he even got his treasures here, you have no clue. All he asks in return is for your company. He truly does care for you possibly more than anyone, so he’ll gladly give more gold just to spoil you. If you bring him with you to shop or any simple outing or invite him somewhere, he’s over the moon with joy. 

Although it’s hard to believe it since he acts so refined and elegant. You think he’s an enigmatic being, maybe a little peculiar, and he always keeps his cool but in actuality… he’s weak for you. Even if he seems calm, any moment with you sends his heart fluttering. Every glance, every smile, every touch, every word, every gesture, it fills him with so much unbelievable ecstasy that makes his heart beat wildly. Who would have thought that such a peaceful simple domestic life would satisfy a prince like him? 

Everything you say, everything you do, even what you think matters. He teased you and such, but never to the point of upsetting you, just because he cannot resist seeing your range of emotions and reactions. One day when he nearly exposed magic to a passerby when attempting to impress you with his skills, leading to you becoming worried and upset, he was absolutely devastated. Malleus believed you were cross with him, how could he do such a foolish thing and anger you? Next thing you know, there was suddenly a nasty storm with powerful lightning and thunder despite the sunny weather five minutes ago, unconsciously formed by his immediate regret and immense guilt. Yet as soon as you spoke to him as he apologized profusely and you explained you weren’t angry at him, the storm quickly cleared upon comforting him. Needless to say, he was not about to make the same mistake twice. 

You seem to have no worries recently. Of course he and Lilia handle each little matter stressing you. If you stop, you might actually notice the way your rude boss shivers upon seeing the fae waiting to escort you home from work. If you turned around to see Malleus, you might’ve seen the way he glared down at the shop owner that scammed you as said owner nervously gave you much more than you paid for. Oh, you’re scared of going out at night because of creeps? Fear not, for he will be beside you the entire time. Besides, he and Lilia already weeded out all… potential threats in the area. You will be safe as long as he is around. 

You know, he’s actually much worse than Sebek when it comes to clinginess. You just never notice Malleus. If you think you’re alone… you’re not. If you feel like you’re being watched when you leave all four of them at home… you’re being watched. The fae prince never truly leaves you alone. He tells himself it’s to keep you safe and content always, but it’s partly for himself too. He’d feel far too lonely if he actually left you for over five minutes. Maybe his lingering presence, even when you don’t know it, explains some little things. The coffee you left cold at your desk is pleasantly warm when you come back, when you turn around the mess of papers is suddenly an organized stack, that coworker you had a fight with suddenly went home sick and didn’t return for nearly a week and when they did return they seemed… scared. 

Malleus likes to believe he knows your vessel, Yuu, better than anyone else. Afterall, he met you early on, he even accidentally helped you. He knew you were a strange one in the beginning, but he had no idea how special you were until later on. 

Like Lilia, he was quick to realize where he was. At first, he was shocked, in pure disbelief. This must be some kind of miracle or a cruel joke––! Lilia was quick to keep Sebek and Silver busy, while he was left to his own devices. So, he explored, but never daring to touch anything, as if even the trashcan in the corner were sacred since it belonged to you. 

Of course he felt your nearing presence. It felt like time was longer than ever now, like every second was an hour. When he heard Sebek sobbing followed by Silver’s voice, he felt his heartbeat quicken. It was happening. You were almost here. Soon, you would come to see him. When he heard the distant voice of Lilia in the kitchen, he felt nervous for the first time in a long while. The moment was coming when he would see you finally, but the moment didn’t seem to come fast enough. Part of him was worried you would fear him. After all, this was technically like a first meeting, so if that were the case–– he’d simply do everything in his power so you warm up to him. You meant far too much to him, he would not allow you to leave him alone even if you tried. He wanted this, you, or something with you, far too much, more than anything he’s ever desired before. Then he heard the door–– it was happening! His gaze landed over to you, immediately transfixed on you. This was it. He was finally meeting the person he adored and coveted, the very one he sought out. 

“You’re relieved to see me after a long day? Hm, as am I to see you… Why am I smiling so ominously, you ask? Heh. Well, because I’ve reunited with you, and because I was thinking of the others who were not blessed and have not seen you. Diasomnia was fortunate enough not only to bask in your presence but to live beside you. I merely find it amusing to remember the countless times others within the college had not invited me to see your plaything Yuu, and yet here I am in the company of the true you. I wonder if they realize, if they know, or even see me here alongside you now. It’s a shame I cannot see them writhing as they wallow in their own sorrows and regret.” 

As a whole... 

Diasomnia adores you wholly, in their eyes you can do no wrong. They both revere you and adore you. For you, they’ll do anything, they’ve told you as much. If you asked, they’d even tear this world apart and mold it into how you see fit. You assure them that you never want that, that the most you usually want is help with chores and stuff. Still, they do carry out your commands, even if it’s not anything major. You have a dedicated green-haired half-fae eager to please you in any way, a sleepy young man that keeps the calm and peace, an ancient fae who dotes over you, and a fae prince willing to bring this society to its knees should you ask. With these four, they’re practically like family at this point. An overpowered, obsessed, and overprotective family… They treasure you very much, I hope you realize that. You’ve offered them your hospitality and company, surely you won’t think of ever getting rid of them, right?

#yandere #kalim al asim #jamil viper #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #ortho shroud #sebek zigvolt #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #yandere twst #twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere kalim al asim #yandere jamil viper #yandere epel felmier #yandere rook hunt #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere ortho shroud #yandere idia shroud #yandere sebek zigvolt #yandere silver #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere malleus draconia #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #why are you in my apartment

[crash-and-cure]

Every Minute, Every Hour (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: You were out. You were out goddamnit. How was he here?

A/N: Soooo.... It’s been awhile. Writer’s block is an absolute son of a bitch. So this is based on an idea I had and requested to @venus-haze a couple months ago and which I almost completely forgot about until I got this request and I decided two birds and all that. I also acknowledge that there was another similar request made a while back, to the person who requested it don’t worry, I do have plans for it. 

Warnings: Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, jealous, and delusional behavior. Dubious Consent in regards to coersion being involved. Loss of virginity. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), oral sex (f.recieving), female mastubation, slight dumbification, and implied anal play. Brief depictions of choking. Touch-starvation. Mentions of Pregnancy. Referenced cheating on Elvis' part. Self-loathing. Stockholm Syndrome(?) Probably more that I am blanking on. Period-typical homophobia and closeted characters depicted. Please do not interact if you are under 18. 

Word Count: 19.8K

Masterlist

----------

You look like an angel (look like an angel)

Walk like an angel (walk like an angel)

Talk like an angel

But I got wise

You’re the devi-

It takes you longer than you would have liked to reach the radio and turn it off. And it’s only as you reach it do you realize how odd it looks from the outside when you see a customer looking at you funny. 

“Not much of a fan,” you say with an admittedly pathetic smile on your face. 

“I can see that,” he replies with an awkward smile, before going back to browsing the books. 

You bashfully turn the radio back on and quickly try to turn the knob to anything even remotely comprehensible, but it’s just your luck that this is the only station you get decent reception on in the store. With no other choice but to simply grin and bear it you put the volume on low and return to reading your book. 

You do keep an eye on your final customer of the evening, and hope he hurries up so you can finally close up for the day. Susan had been complaining about a migraine since lunch and Gina was caring for her upstairs and so it was on you to close up the shop on your own today. 

You feel embarrassed to have been seen that way but that all falls away when you hear the shop bell ring, only to be immediately followed by tiny rapid footsteps and an excited little “mama!” and you grab onto the counter before your little two and a half foot terror can knock out from behind you. Which ends up being the right call as you feel her head butt your knees and locking her arms around them nearly knocking you down.  

“Mama! Mama!” she squealed, practically vibrating, she was so excited to see you. 

“Rosie! Rosie!” you say, equally as happy to see her though you do a far better job at reining it in. She takes your hands in hers as you crouch down to look at her, and take stock. Her hair is askew with the ribbons you had tied in place this morning holding on for dear life in her beautiful curls, her face is smudgy with what you’re hoping is chocolate, and one of her socks is just gone, but both shoes are in place so you can only imagine how your little hellion managed that. Overall this is the best condition Rosie has returned to you in, after a long day with Jenny.

“Mama, Aunty Jenny took me to the Candy store!” she says, showing off the candy bracelets on her tiny wrists. 

“Really,” you say, shooting a look at your friend for giving her so much sugar before bed. The woman in question has the courtesy to at least look a little guilty about it, before giving a small laugh. 

“Mm-hmm. And we saw Danny at the playground and we-we saw Uncle Lee’s friends, and then we listened to a lotta music, and we saw a movie about a wizard and there was no one else in the whole room, and then-then…” she rapidly rambles on but you pepper her face in kisses before she can pass out from the lack of oxygen. She giggles uncontrollably and tries to squirm out of your grip, but you gotta get in one good raspberry on her cheek before you let her go.

“Alright, why don’t you go upstairs and help Aunty Gina finish up dinner,” you tell her with a smile on your face. Her “help” in the kitchen is typically watching and holding spoons and spatulas on a step stool, but she’s at an age where she believes the whole dish would fall apart without her important contribution to it, so she goes rushing to the stairs. 

But she quickly comes running back while taking the uneaten bracelet off of her wrist. “Danny said to give this to you for your birthday,” she declares. Ever since meeting Jenny’s nephew she’s seemed to hang on to every word of his, and though you’ve never met the boy he seems to be a good kid, always polite and saying hello through your daughter, but has, as you've heard, an extreme affinity towards spinning a few too many fantastical stories. But your daughter is far too young to see him as anything but a friend so you doubt you have anything to worry about as of right now. 

She’s always so eager to tell you about everything, and you’re just as eager to listen. Your folks never wanted to hear anything from you, and you pray that your attentiveness will pay off one day when she is never afraid to come to you with your troubles. Maybe if you had that with your mother you wouldn’t be where you were.

“Well tell him I said thank you,” you say, as you pull it on your wrist, placing a small kiss on her forehead before she books it back to the stairs behind the counter. As you stand back up, to your surprise you find the customer now at the counter with a good stack of books. 

“Sorry to bother Miss…ummm…” the customer says nervously. 

“Love,” you clarify for him. “Y/N Love.”

He gives a shy smile at that, “Well Miss Love, I’m ‘bout ready to check out so…” he says gesturing to his tower of books. 

“Of course,” you answer and you begin to ring him up. He’s got quite a few so at least he makes the extra time staying down here somewhat worth it. 

“Whatcha readin’ there,” he asks you, pointing to the open book you’ve left to your side. You show him your copy of We have always lived in the castle. “I-is it any good?”

“I would say so,” you answer. Though that ending did hit a little too close to home, you think to yourself. 

“So umm, d-do you like to read?” he asks hesitantly as he quietly adds a copy of the book to his pile. 

“I’d be in the wrong business if I didn’t,” you joke, and he laughs a little too hard. “How ‘bout you?” you ask, wanting to not have an awkward silence, as you’re not even halfway through the stack. 

“Yeah, I-I love reading though I don’t got a lotta time for it these days,” he says with a guilty smile on his face. 

“Why’s that?” you ask, since it seems to be the only way this conversation could go. 

“I-I just started my residency at Charity Hospital,” he says bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Sam by the way,” apparently realizing that he hadn’t made the proper introductions. 

“Y/N,” you say, giving him a small nod and a smile. “And congratulations on your residency,” you're almost done with the final few books, but you may or may not be taking your time to finish them up, wanting to prolong the conversation you’re having for a bit. 

“Thank you, and I- well, umm… I couldn’t help but overhear your daughter, but umm… Happy Birthday,” he says ducking his head, a bit embarrassed at his own admission. 

“Oh, thank you,” you say, your face heating up slightly that he had heard. 

“Your Husband’s a lucky man,” he says, though he does steal a quick glance at you, no doubt trying to gauge your reaction.

So this is what it’s about, you think to yourself. “I’m actually not…” you trail off, and hope that he gets the message. 

“Oh, I’m glad to hear that,” he stated before his eyes widened as he realized what he just said. “I-I mean not glad like I’m happy that you-you’re not married, bu-but glad li-like I’m relieved that I hav-haven’t been trying to build up the courage to talk to a cute girl for the past few weeks only to find out she’s married already.” he blathers on and you can’t help but laugh. 

Your heart does flutter a bit at his confession. Everything about this feels like it should be perfect. Unfortunately for the both of you, you finally get a good look at his icy blue eyes that are a little too familiar for comfort, and it feels like your throat closes up. 

You can feel your stomach churning (and not just from the baby that fills it) and cold regret for not buying an extra pair of socks as you sit at the Greyhound terminal in Nashville, your feet starting practically turning into ice blocks. That cold November morning you had made a show of telling everybody you were gonna make a quick trip down to the shops for some eggs, now you’re almost a full state away praying that the bus gets here soon, jumping every time a set of headlights passes by and you're just barely keeping dry underneath the metal canopy. 

But for as cold as you are physically, your chest starts to heat up at the prospect that you’re so close to freedom from an even colder gaze. When the bus does get there you hardly sleep a wink afraid to let your guard down even now. You know how well he could sabotage your plans if he was so inclined, from small things like spoiling the surprise party you had planned for him to the major of ruining your chances to get into another school. 

You know he’s half a world away yet that still does little knowing what the most loyal of his are willing to do for him. It’s not until you finally make it to the train station in Atlanta that’ll take you down to New Orleans that you finally give in to your heavy eyelids, willing to trust strangers with your safety, aware they can’t hurt you any worse than those you know have done. 

You shake your head as you’re brought back to the present, and you hear him say something, “I’m sorry what?” you covertly wiggle your toes as you try to ground yourself and get sensation back in them as though you were just getting them out of the cold.

“I was just sayin’ there’s this club down on Bourbon that I been meanin’ to check out since movin’ down here, and I was hopin’ a local such as yourself could show me ‘round these parts,” he says, a nervous but hopeful smile on his lips. 

For a moment you can almost imagine saying yes to him, how he would take you out on the town, how he would kiss you, how he would throw your daughter up in the air. How maybe you could be happy with him.

But like a looming black cloud, in spite of the lowered volume, you hear what the new station is now playing, clear as a bell.

Oh please come to my arms and say you'll love me forever

For with the dawn, you'll be gone 

It’s almost as though He’s following you, serving as a constant reminder of what you did, and that you’re never allowed to imagine being with another man. You wordlessly turn off the radio before you’re forced to listen anymore. “Uhh, I-I’m sorry, I-I really don’t go out much,” you say, trying to shut this down as gently as you could. 

“Oh-uhh, that’s fine I umm,” he says, pivoting hard. “I’m more of a movie guy myself, I hear he’s got a new one out, and we can go and watch anything but that,” he gives a small laugh pointing to the radio, but quickly drops it upon seeing your grim expression. 

Without knowing it Sam just shut the coffin on any potential happenings between the two of you. “I’m sorry, it’s late and I gotta close up for the night,” you say softly, and he’s smart enough to take the hint. 

“O-of course,” he says looking down at the books he has in his hands. “But can you promise you’ll think about it?” he asks as he reaches the door to look back at you. 

Even before you open your mouth, you already know that your next words are going to make you lose a customer forever. “There’s nothing to think about,” you say, trying to feign apathy. Harsh as your words may be, you know this is far kinder to him in the long run as opposed to getting more involved with you. 

You watch him leave the store with a sagging shoulders and a long face, before you feel a hand meet violently with the back of your head, and you swivel around to see Jenny with an exasperated look on her face. “So a handsome, single, doctor who loves to read, and doesn’t mind that you already got a kid, asks you out and you say…” she trails off, seeming to only get more offended with every dreamy quality he had. 

“Don’tchu get like that Jenny,” you defend yourself, as you stomp to the door in order to flip the sign to closed and lock up for the night. “I’ve got a daughter to worry about and I don’t have time for a boyfriend right now.”

“Well newsflash Y/N,” she argues, “Rosie needs a daddy.”

You feel your hackles rising at that statement. “No she doesn’t,” you state firmly, not wanting to raise your voice, because you know better than anyone how easy it is to be overheard.

She deflates a little at your obvious fury at this line of questioning, before letting out a long tired sigh. “It’s just that… when we were at the park today… she asked me why she didn’t have one. And she… she just kept pressing,” she says obviously ashamed that she hurt you, but wanting to get across her reasoning. “What am I supposed to say to that? Especially when you won’t tell nobody what happened. I only got her to drop it when I took her to the candy shop.”

You feel guilty for snapping at your friend. Jenny Hodge had been an absolute godsend since you met her almost a year ago, when she and her new husband, Lee, had moved down from Alabama. Her arrival had coincided when Rosie started becoming aggressively mobile and insisted that running was the only way to get around anymore. And because she felt she needed practice with being a Mama before she had one of her own, she insisted on being your one and only babysitter, in exchange for free books every so often. 

The story around the block is that you are were the young widow who “tragically” lost her husband in an accident before he ever had the chance to meet your beautiful daughter, and with no one in the world left to turn to, you ended up on your “spinster” aunt and her “good friend” Susan’s doorstep. And Jenny, since hearing your story, has by far been your most fervent supporter outside of this house, with her support primarily coming in two flavors: 1) helping you with your daughter so she isn’t so cooped up in the store while you work and 2) trying to set you up with any moderately successful man.

“Y/N,” she says softly. “I get that it’s hard to get back out there, but you need to think about the bigger picture, because it’s only a matter of time before she starts asking you.”

You know she’s right, and that’s the worst part about it. Your little Rosie Love is a stubborn one, not to mention smart, always has been. Didn’t want to walk because she wanted to run. Hated her diaper so much she learned how to unpin it when she was barely a year old. Wanted to try to feed herself when she first took to solid food, and would snatch the spoon out of your hand when she could. She’s broken out of every play pen she’s ever been in. Hell, she was almost two weeks overdue, and the doctors were forced to induce you, she didn’t want to come out until she was good and ready.

She, like someone else you knew, is capable of throwing a wrench into any plan you make. For as endearing as it can be, it is all the more frustrating knowing exactly where she gets it from. 

With a long defeated sigh, you concede to her point and thank her for both her input and for being a good friend this past year. And maybe someday you’ll be ready to find another husband.

She has a wide cheshire-cat like grin as you say that, “And I’mma ‘bout to be a better one,” she practically sings. “Lee’s friend is in town, and I think you two would hit it off.” 

“And I think we wouldn’t,” you state, putting books back where they belong. 

“C’mon Y/N, I thought we were past this,” she whines.

“I did say someday, not today,” you emphasize.

“Y/N, your birthday’s comin’ up soon, and it ain’t like you’re gettin’ any younger. Besides Lee and I are already trying for a baby, so I ain’t gonna be so available much longer neither,” she says in a soft voice holding your hands in hers. “And you need to find someone you can rely on too, it’s not like you wanna end up like your Aunt Gina”

You say nothing not wanting to say anything incriminating about the relationship between your Aunts, as for all that you trust Jenny, you don’t trust her enough with somebody else’s secrets. 

“Just promise me you'll think about it at least,” she pleads, hands clasped over your own. 

What is it about people that, not trusting you when you answer the first time, and thinking given enough time you’ll come around? 

Yet you're no better as you let out a long tired sigh, before ultimately agreeing, if only to get her off your back. Or so you tell yourself. 

She tells you a bit about the man she has in mind for you, or more accurately she keeps insisting how perfect the two of you would be together.  In her mind it’ll be love at first sight, how he’ll love and accept Rosie as his own immediately, how she guarantees that you’ll be married within a year and be trying to give Rosie a little brother or sister. You have to bodily shove her out the door by that point lest she get into any more specifics in her attempt to sway you. 

Jenny’s a little older than you, but she is very much a romantic at heart, you suppose, though that’s the benefit of things going right in your life. 

But your story went wrong. 

“Why you in such a hurry to get out girl?” your accomplice would ask as he handed you the money (He had made it a point of order that you were never to handle any) the day before your escape. 

“There’s someone else,” you say simply, because it’s true and if they were to ever betray your trust this would be worse on them than on you. 

You got away with quite a bit back in the day like getting out of trouble for making out in a dark empty classroom by claiming to have been caught by surprise by your monthlies and now you couldn’t bear the thought of being seen like this. Or when you got hired by the library for the summer after you approached the front desk and claimed to be the new hire ready for her first day of training and nobody really bothered to check in with anybody else. Even that one time when you confidently strolled backstage at a music hall He had wanted to perform all to sneak them in through the back door and convinced just enough people that his band was meant to perform that night.

Your ability to make up stories on the fly and map things out in your head had led you to believe that you would make for a pretty good mystery writer. You had even tried to go to school to be one, though you told everyone it was to be a teacher, a far more respectable and womanly job.

Well not everyone.

He certainly knew. 

Knew about your talent for planning and story-telling, and was practically always in awe to see it in action. But this recognition came at the expense that he was aware of your tricks and he always knew how to throw you off just enough to make any plans you made go belly up. Whether it was something relatively small like figuring out you were planning a surprise party to the major… like when you tried to end things the first time around.

He called you almost every night when he was on tour, and you had done your best to relay all that was going on back in Memphis. And in spite of his insistence that he wants to hear about it, you suspect that he wasn’t being truthful. He especially seemed disgruntled when you made any mention of doing anything with anyone else. Your friends, his friends, even your own family weren’t safe from his ire.  

When He was here you would do everything together, yet now that you tell him about all that you’d been doing, there is a slight but noticeable edge when he speaks to you over the phone. Everytime you mention how you went to the movie theater or you went to the record store or the bookshop, it was almost always met with a solemn “we used to do that together.” 

You would have gone with him, had your parents let you, and He knows that so you don’t understand why he’s so sore about the fact that you’re not simply sitting on your hands back home waiting for him to return. 

So in an effort to spare his feelings you asked him about the things he was doing, you even go out of your way to say how happy you were when he was telling you about all of the fun things he had done on the road. You’re happy to hear it all and you thought 

You miss him just as fiercely but you don’t want it to stop you from living. 

But when you got your acceptance letter, you saw the writing on the wall. You both were going in different directions: you were going to be studying, were barely going to be home and his star just kept growing and growing each day taking him further out and making him harder to reach. You know you wanted this and you begin to suspect you may want it more than you want to stay with him, if staying with him meant being alone all the same. 

This was only confirmed in the weeks leading up to Prom when you couldn’t get a straight answer out of him of whether or not He would be able to make it. It was on you to practically plan everything down to what he would wear, while his whole contribution was to show up- maybe?

Whether He did show up or not that night, you thought the result would be the same with you officially breaking things off between you two. But you still held out hope that at least if he did come you would have one last good memory. 

And to your relief He does make it, but he’s a little off the whole night. Not in the sense that his mind is elsewhere, more like he’s trying to commit everything about the night into memory, and looking at you with sad eyes when he thinks you’re not looking. 

It all comes to a head when you’re parked outside of your house, and you’re sitting in a loaded silence with him at the wheel. He’s gripping onto that thing for dear life and you’re wondering if maybe you should save it, but you think you know yourself well enough to know that if you don’t say it now, you won't say it ever. 

So as he’s opening his mouth to say something, you cut him off with his name. 

“...I-I got accepted to Southwestern,” you blurted out to him and He looked so confused at your admission, but you push through. “I start in the fall, so I’m not gonna be home much anymore, and with y-you being on the road so much, I think it best that we-”

“Marry me,” he blurts out, panic etched across his face.

Your jaw is left practically on the floor as that was the last thing you ever expected out of his mouth. 

You would later find out that he went to Prom with the same intention as you did but it was in that moment that he realized you weren’t going to wait for him to come back did he want to lock you down. But you didn’t see that in the moment. 

What you saw at the time was the declaration that he was just as committed as you were, and so overwhelmed by the love you still felt for him at the time, you had no choice but to give an emphatic yes to him. 

“We’re gonna figure this out baby,” He promises with a kiss. 

That was the first time you tried to leave him.

“-Danny’s a real good singer Aunty. He told me he lives in Neverland and one day he would take me and-and he told me this is the only place in the whole word that they sell peanut butter cups,” you would hear as you made your way up the stairs connecting to the apartment above the store. You look into the small kitchen where you see your little girl sitting on the counter talking her aunt’s ear off idly dangling her little feet while holding a spatula you're not entirely sure is necessary. Gina looks over to you and gives you a playfully exasperated look, and you simply shrug your shoulders before moving into the small kitchen to pepper your little one's face in kisses. 

“Alright sticky missy,” you announce, blowing a raspberry on her cheek and swiping the utensil out of her hand as she trills in delight. “You go wash up for dinner now, ya’ hear, and go wake up Aunty, I think she’ll feel alot better seeing you.”

“Ok Mama,” she says. She is utterly fearless as she slides herself to get off of the counter, and lands on her feet below. You can’t help the swell of pride that bubbles up in your chest seeing it, how brave your little girl is. You hope that you can take it as a sign that you’re doing ok at this motherhood thing. 

Gina likes to say that you were just as bold at that age with the confidence of someone so sure they can take on the world, and in quieter moments she’ll lament how you lost that in you. You would be offended if you didn’t already know when exactly you lost it. 

She had always been your favorite Aunt until you were about twelve and and your father would coldly tell you she died and was in hell now. Rather than a funeral, the family got together to destroy her things and swear to never speak of her again. 

That didn’t stop her from visiting you one last time and telling you she was moving down to New Orleans with her friend Susan. She would take you to your favorite bookstore one last time in Memphis and promised that if you ever needed a place to stay, to not even hesitate to come, because she knew better than anyone what your family would do to girls who stepped out of line. 

For years the only evidence that she was even alive was the annual birthday and Christmas gift you would get from her all under the guise of Nancy Drew books stamped with the name of a bookstore all the way in New Orleans. You cherished them and it’s one of the few things you took after your parents kicked you out. 

You only wished you had taken the offer when your father had kicked you out and you were forced to rely on someone else. 

“So I hear you broke another heart,” Gina idly says as she starts scooping some rice onto a plate.

You let out a long sigh, “When did Jenny find the time to tell you?” You’re more amazed than annoyed considering she didn’t leave your sight once down stairs. 

“Jenny?” she says, raising a brow. “No Sue told me earlier how Lou from King’s Cafe ‘s been askin’ after you.”

Lou who always had extra beignets to give away when you took Rosie for a walk in the mornings. He recently asked if you had ever been on the Algiers ferry, and how beautiful it looked at night.

…You’ve been taking a different route to the playground since then. 

“Is my love life just everybody’s business,” you ask frustrated that you weren’t even given a five minute break from this. 

“In this house: yes,” she states, a grin on her face. 

“Gina if this is about me movin’ out, you can talk to me, I’m a big girl,” you insist, trying to deflect and not have to think about it anymore. 

“Sweetheart,” she says solemnly, placing a hand on your cheek. I may not be your mama, but I do think that you need to think about what’s best for Rosie,” she insists as she puts place mats down on the table. 

Gina’s a little closer to the situation than Jenny, as she had asked no questions as to why you all of a sudden needed a place to stay far from your parents with nary a husband or boyfriend in sight to take responsibility for the baby growing within you. She had also been the one to help spread the tragic young widow narrative, and for as much of a gossip she can be, you know she’s a steel trap for secrets that matter. 

“What does me getting, or not getting, a boyfriend have to do with Rosie?”

“A boyfriend? Nothing,” she dismisses. “A husband on the other hand…”she says with a smile.

“Don’tchu come talkin’ to me ‘bout gettin’ a husband,” you say, handing her another plate of food. 

She laughs at that, “It’s not just about you gettin’ a husband, it’s about Rosie gettin’ a father,” she insists amused at your mulishness. 

“Not you too,” you mourn what you thought was going to be a quiet evening. 

“I’m just sayin’ that every child deserves two parents,” putting the lid back on the pot. 

“She’s got three mama’s,” you counter.

“No,” she says waving the wooden spoon in front of your face. “She’s got one mama and two grandmas that spoil her rotten behind your back.” You open your mouth to protest, until she quickly follows up with, “Oh speak of the devil herself,” as you see your little troublemaker dragging Susan by the hand to the table, whom you had to bully into taking a rest to somewhat alleviate the migraine she had been having for most of the day.

Your daughter can talk for hours if left unchecked and you're eager to hear all of it as she bounces from subject to subject at the dinner table. You had always felt somewhat guilty intruding on their space, but Gina insists nothing of the sort and Susan jokes that the two of them are getting the full kid/grandkid experience through you and Rosie, since the traditional way ain’t for them.

Between bites she regaled the three of you with all that she did today which included seeing a dog, the playground being shiny, spinning around so fast on the merry-go-round she almost went into space, made friends with some of the ducks, saw another dog, Danny gave her his popcorn, got a lot of candy from the candy shop, and gave some jelly beans to the last dog she saw today, but only the green ones she doesn’t like, and then feeling bad about it and giving it some of the red ones to even it out.

She doesn’t mention anything to you about asking Jenny about why she doesn't have a daddy, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the first break you’ve had all day. Some may say you indulge her too much, but all three grown women at this table know exactly how it feels to have their thoughts and feelings ignored, and you all had come to the mutual understanding that Rosie would never have to feel this way in this house.

“Mama, I forgot to tell you,” Rosie states after she shoveled the last of her food into her mouth. “Barbie got a new job today!” she delights as she thrusts the doll in your face. 

“Really?” you say trying to match even a quarter of her excitement. “Is she mmm… a firefighter?”

“No!” she squeals, delighted in the game you play with her. 

Making a big show of putting a finger to your temple and closing one eye, apparently deep in thought, you ask, “Is she a… detective?” 

“No that was yesterday!” she’s practically buzzing to tell you, but holds it in to keep this game going.

“Oh!” you say, pretending to have a lightbulb moment. “She’s a wizard!” You know your daughter well enough, so you’re reasonably confident in your guess knowing that Jenny took her to see that Disney movie today. 

“No,” she laughs, “She’s an actress, but she also sings in all her movies.”

“O-oh,” you say, genuinely caught off guard by that. “Why’s that?” It’s certainly not an unusual thing for a little girl to declare, but for your daughter it most definitely was. When she declared what Barbie was going to be it was always influenced by something she saw that day. Sometimes she was a baker, sometimes a ballerina, even one memorable time a bus driver, but this is a first. Even when she has seen movies with actors in it she didn’t quite understand the concept that those aren’t their real jobs on screen, and she would pick that, which is why you guessed wizard.

“Because Danny does that,” she declares, as she starts to make Barbie dance on the dinner table.

And then it made sense, your daughter’s friend, Danny, who according to Jenny, has a penchant for making up stories. To your daughter the boy’s been a cowboy, a soldier, he’s as strong as superman, can play any instrument, and now apparently is a famous actor. 

You give an amused huff, “I see Danny’s at it again,” you state, as you take her plate. It’s a literal miracle that Jenny’s impromptu trip to the candy store didn’t spoil her appetite, and but you don’t know how much of an appetite she’ll have for dessert so you decide to just split a slice of King cake with her. 

“At what mama?” she asks as Gina wipes some of her food off her face. 

“He’s telling stories again,” you say as you bring Gina and Susan their dessert plates. 

“No he’s not,” she states, furrowing her brow, and you can’t help but quirk a smile at how stressed she looks as you sit down. “I saw it myself.” 

“I’m sure you did, but Honey, it's just… sometimes boys have a habit of telling… tall tales,” you suppose that’s the nice way of putting it. It’s a fine line you walk with her, wanting to have her believe in herself most of all, but also wanting her to not believe everything she’s told, especially by boys. You’re the textbook example of what happens to supposedly smart girls who get in too deep with charming boys.

“But it’s true mama,” she insists, raising her voice a bit. 

“Sweetheart, I think he means, he wants to be that when he grows up,” you try to gently justify, as you subtly try to nudge the fork closer to her. 

“No mama, I saw it,” she asserts, getting progressively more upset defending her friend. “He is a famous actor and he was singing and dancing at the theater.”

“And I’m sure he’s gonna be a big star one day when he’s all grown up,” you try to assuage how worked up she’s getting. “But I don’t think he’s one right now.” 

“No mama!” she yells at the top of her lungs, angry tears streaming down her face. “You’re a liar!” You feel your stomach drop to the floor and she herself looks shocked at what she just said. She proceeds to cry even harder before turning tail and running straight into the room you share with her and slamming the door as hard as she could. 

When you were far enough away, and somewhat comfortable in your new environment in Your Aunties home, the first thing you did was read nearly every book about motherhood you could find. You were determined to do this right as you had made the unilateral decision for your baby to only have one parent. So you decided as a means of making up for it you would be all the parent she would need. 

Doubt creeps into the back of your throat that you made the wrong decision and that you in fact were not enough on your own and that she never would have done that if He were around. 

“You want me to go talk to her?” Gina would ask after hearing your door slam shut. 

As bad as you want to say yes from the exhausting day you’ve had so far, you’re not about to foist your duties as a mother off onto her right now. She understands but you don’t miss the pointed look she gives to Sue, as she walks away to clean up dinner, and you bury your hand in your face hoping if you wish hard enough this day will finally come to a close. 

“I remember the first time I yelled at my mama,” Sue off-handedly says after a few minutes. “Always too scared that that wretched woman would beat me black and blue if I was ever less than perfect,” she takes a sip of her tea. “And she did just that when I got fed up with all her teasing about me getting a boyfriend.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“What I’m gettin’ at is… I was never comfortable enough with my own mother to be angry with her.”

“Am I bad at this?” 

“You’re still new at this Hon,” she reassures you. “There's a big difference.”

Despite the fact that Gina was the one related to you by blood, Sue’s the only one in the world who even has an inkling as to what exactly you left behind. And that is only because she was a front row spectator to it.

You had managed to get permission to leave the hotel room for a few hours while He was on set that day. He had brought you down from Memphis, not wanting you so far out of reach and yet you were still pretty much kept confined. You had long since exhausted the books you had brought for the trip, and you were practically itching to get out. 

Books were your only escape from this place. Where you could vicariously solve a mystery or meet royalty or stop a war or any other number of exciting things in your head. But inevitably you close the book and the story ends and your back in this fucking hotel room. 

You realize by getting more books you're just masking a symptom rather than actually treating the illness. You couldn’t take it anymore and had begged Him to at least let you go to a bookstore to keep you occupied, because by that point you were willing to pay the price for it. 

Sue had been the only one in the store the day but you hadn’t really taken notice of her, your eyes had been darting around everywhere trying to find Gina. Sonny was in there as well, as you were only able to bargain your way to being in here and picking out the books, but not enough to be able to enter the store alone. Sonny had been the one to pull the short straw and had been put on Y/N duty today. Usually that consisted of sitting in the hotel and making sure you didn’t go anywhere while also completely ignoring you.

Everybody knows the story of the last guy that paid a little too much attention to you. You still couldn’t look at raw ground beef without crying.

Outside of the occasional gathering you don’t really interact with anybody out of the immediate vicinity of home. It’s funny how He can put you in a room filled to the brim with his people yet make you feel so alone at the same time. It would be amazing if it didn’t make you feel so awful at the same time. 

It’s a terrible thing He does, but it’s made all the worse that so many people can see what he’s doing keeping you prisoner and isolated and yet no one will ever dare breach it 

If anything they actually help him as they all report to him practically what you did that day, do their best to talk you out of leaving the room, and even when you do insist on going off on your own, the men are quick to remind you that He won’t like it one bit. They won’t physically stop you, (they know the worst thing they can do is put their hands on you) but you know that’s where their “help” begins and ends. 

At one point you even tried to play ball and asked for His permission last time you were in LA and you had wanted to go to the Griffith Observatory. You had asked in advance, agreed to only being there for two hours, and even gave in to being essentially chaperoned from a distance. Initially He had agreed to the terms and You thought you had done good and maybe you were finally coming to somewhat of a middle ground with him. 

But in the days leading up to the trip He would ask for favors in return. They all just happened to be things you had refused to do for him up until that point. When you refused He would at first seemingly accept your answer, and then He would idly remind you of your upcoming trip before asking you again. You weren’t stupid enough to miss the connection and so you did what you thought you had to do for just the slightest taste of freedom.

Who are you kidding?

You practically begged and did tricks for Him like a dog for just the slightest bit of slack on your leash. 

You could barely move the morning of the trip both physically and emotionally drained from what he had you do the night before, but you still persevered if only to make all that you went through worth it.

It wasn’t worth it. 

Everything you saw that day was completely soured by what you had to do to get there. Every step felt like agony, and you had to make a conscious effort to not walk funny. And before you knew it the two hours were up and Red was telling you it was time to leave. 

You don’t know what’s worse, the punishments or the favors. 

You had to go the favor route today as otherwise he would have simply sent for someone to get you whatever books they could find, rather than letting you pick. You already know you’re going to get it when he finds out you went to a different bookstore than initially planned. You thought you could at the very least make it worth it by seeing one familiar face, but even fate denied you that as Gina was nowhere to be seen. 

It was cold enough to justify wearing something to cover up most of the bruises, but that didn’t mean they were all hidden. You wouldn’t know it at the time but your skittishness coupled with the bruises struck a chord with Susan before you fully checked out of the store.

“I’m sorry if this sounds like an odd question but ummm…” you say, glancing around, making sure that Sonny was too far to hear. “Does Gina work here?”

Sue immediately tenses up, and you curse your caginess, as you reassure her that you’re Gina’s niece, Y/N. She seems to relax hearing that so at least she knows that you try to maintain a good relationship, sporadic your letters may be. 

“What happened there honey?” she asks, gesturing to your wrist that has a ring of bruises on it, which you quickly move to hide. You internally curse yourself for your sloppiness. He doesn’t mean to hurt you but he tends to lose himself and be a little rougher especially when he’s worried about something else. 

He’s been a little rougher for a few months now.

“Oh-ummm,” you steal a glance at Sonny, who was making his way to the counter. “Yes I am ready to check out.” Gesturing to the three towers of books you’ve managed to accumulate.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sue nor does she miss Sonny's statement of remembering the rules as to what you’re allowed to get, if her disapproving look is anything to go by. He’s fine with you reading but doesn’t like you reading books that will put “ideas” in your head. 

You don’t exactly know what that means as the standards seem to change depending on His mood and it’s always a gamble as to what he will or won’t allow you to have. You fear the day He grows the same hatred for fictional men that he has for any man within your vicinity. 

You're genuinely sad when it comes time to pay, (Well Sonny pays, He doesn’t like the idea of you handling money), and then Susan does something you could never have anticipated in a million years as Sonny grabs one stack and goes to put it in the car. 

You wished it had been anybody but Sonny that day. His last girlfriend, whom he swore he was gonna make Mrs. Sonny West, had made the mistake of trying to befriend you outside of gatherings. She stopped by the house frequently just to visit and even invited you out to the salon. 

And it was your mistake to believe you could have a friend that he would finally approve of. Friend or family, He eventually found something to disapprove of for everybody close to you previously. You thought that because she was already nominally part of the group, it would be fine to go.  

He made it clear by the time you got home that it wasn’t. 

You never saw her again after that and Sonny’s resented you ever since. You can hardly blame him, it’s easier to point the finger at you for not anticipating the unspoken rules, as opposed to the man who signs his checks and makes the rules. 

You know that even the slightest toe out of line will be reported back to Him in the worst light. So you had to be on your best behavior. 

“Y’know I highly recommend this book,” Sue says, sliding the book she had been reading at the counter to you. 

Wide Sargasso Sea, the cover reads.

“Oh thank you but I already paid,” you say, almost afraid of this conversation. “And besides I already have enough books.”

“Sweetheart you can never have too many,” she insists and without looking opens it up to the first page where you see a little handwritten note. She closes it up before you can see what it says and slyly slots it in the middle of a stack. 

Later on when you feel sufficiently safe enough to look at it you nearly burst into tears.

In case you need help

feel free to call

(xxx-xxxx)

Such a small thing really, but it’s the most human connection you’ve had with anyone else but Him in a long time. 

You spend the next hour or two committing that string of numbers to memory before you proceed to rip out that page, shred it, and flush the remnants down the toilet. 

Even when you were burning the number into your brain, you never thought you would have ever had the guts to use it. Back when you thought you could accept what looked to be your fate. 

It would be unfair to say it was all bad, after all there was a reason you did fall for Him in the first place. When you would read mysteries and He would listen to you criticize the culprits' plans and schemes and he would look in awe at how you would’ve gotten away with it. Or how fun it was to sneak out with him, your family none the wiser. Even when things got bad and it felt like He was the only one that would talk to you for days, you cherished it because it truly felt like he was your life line. 

When things were good they were great, it was just when they were bad did you start to recognize them. 

Things were bad a lot towards the end. 

Gladys had been one of the few willing to go to bat for you, and perhaps the only one who He would listen to. She was the only one who could set him straight when he got huffy at the thought of you having some basic independence of being able to go outside and not needing to be watched like a child all the time. 

She was the one you went to with your suspicions and early symptoms, when you were too afraid to go to the doctor that reported right back to Him. 

She had also been the only one who knew your fears about having this baby. In your mind there were a total of two possibilities for the life the baby would live. One that they would live a life like yours, isolated within the walls of the house under their fathers obsessive gaze, never to experience the outside world. Or two He would hate the baby on principle and see it as just competition for your time and attention like he did with everybody else.

She did her best to try to quell your fears, trying to assert He would never do either of those things, especially, the last one. 

But you saw it in her eyes how she knows how sour He would get when he would come home to find you playing with his younger cousins. How He gets when someone new so much as looks your way a beat too long, or has the gall to get your attention.

How you’re barely allowed to talk to other girls your own age and that’s only saved for special occasions when his friends bring their girlfriends and He’s otherwise occupied. And even then He has a penchant for just removing you from them just to have you sit with him, and you’re out in the awkward position of being the odd one out in his group.

How when you did gather up the nerve to bring up the topic of babies to him one night his answer was “I ain’t ready to share ya’ darlin’, I don’t think I’ll eva be.”

But your most hard-hitting evidence was what happened to your dog, Hardy. He had been an old stray you saw skulking around the property, and whom you took in when He was touring. Hardy didn’t have much of an interest in running around or playing fetch, just sitting by your side and eating treats. 

Everything was good until He returned. You knew it was gonna be trouble the moment He walked through the door and saw you scratching the dog’s belly. Inspite of the fact that Hardy was usually tolerant of strangers, something about Him immediately put the usually placid dog on edge. You immediately got to work on trying to find some sort of compromise in regards to him, and offered everything from making Hardy a permanently outside dog to even being willing to have him be boarded with a family member while He was home. 

You had asked Gladys where Hardy was the very next morning when you couldn’t find him anywhere, only to be told that He had taken him out for a walk. You didn’t have the heart to be told a lie when He returned alone.

He started taking you with him at that point, and you hardly knew a moment's peace after that.

Your attention is not your own to freely give away, let alone your affection, He expects it all to go to him. He did lord knows what to a dog that had had the misfortune of occupying some of your time when he was there, you hardly wanted to chance the life of a baby that would need all of it. 

However in spite of all of that, you thought with her by your side you would be able to weather his reaction, whatever it may be. Even if your worst fear came to be and He didn’t really want anything to do with the baby, you could at least have someone to love the baby just as fiercely even when you were otherwise occupied by Him. It wasn’t necessarily fair, but you could somewhat see the function of it, and in spite of the weariness he’s instilled in you by that point, you were still reasonably confident in your ability to plan for the long term.

And then Gladys died.

And you were left to navigate the hardest thing you could face alone. 

“Ain’t nobody ever talks about how hard this can be. Or how easy it is to mess up,” Sue continues as she polishes off her plate. “But maybe…” she prods. “If you had a partner to help ease the load, you wouldn’t doubt yourself so much.”

You groan at this point wanting to truly be done with this day already. “Not this again,” you bemoan. 

“Honey,” she says with a firm but comforting grip on your shoulder. “I know a thing or two about leaving bad things behind, but I do think sometimes you need to let someone else in to help you recover,” she says. And almost like they rehearsed it, Gina comes in with a mug of tea, and a kiss to Susan’s forehead as she demands she go back to bed to rest up.

You want to argue back that you did a good enough job of recovering by yourself, but that’s hardly fair to say considering how you were about as helpless as Rosie herself that first year and a half you were here. You had thought that you would’ve been out of here maybe a couple months after giving birth, and been in a completely new place with no ties whatsoever. But the reality is that there’s no possible way you or Rosie would have survived without the help they were so willing to give. 

And that’s all they’re trying to do now. 

You take a minute to fully gather yourself, as you realize you being upset won’t help Rosie in the slightest. You also pick up the slice of cake, as you don’t want her to think she’s being punished for being upset with you. 

You find her hiding underneath the blankets of the bed you share with her and you can only hear sniffling at this point. You try to approach this delicately, as this is new territory for the both of you, so you place the cake on the nightstand, crawl underneath the sheets with her, and allow for her to come to you. Luckily you don’t have to wait for long.

“Mama!” she cries as she buries her face in your bosom, her tears already soaking through the cotton material. “Mama, I didn’t mean it! Please don’t be mad! I’m sorry Mama! Please don’t leave.”

“Sweetheart it’s okay,” you reassure her, running your nails up and down her back, as it always did the trick of settling her down when she was a baby. “Mama’s not goin’ anywhere without you. I’m always gonna be with you.” You hardly put her down her first year of life, going against all the books and holding her at just about every possible moment, so you can hardly fathom where she got this idea in her head that you would leave if you got upset with her. But remembering what Jenny had told you earlier, you have the sneaking suspicion it is related to her noticing the lack of a father in her life. 

“I’m sorry mama! I’m sorry…” she repeats over and over again, and for each time you make sure to reassure her that nothing she could ever do would make you leave. 

Finally when she’s tired herself out and her eyes are red and raw do you finally speak. “Rosie, it’s okay to be mad, but it’s not okay to be mean, because you’re mad,” you say softly to her running your nails on her back, something that has always soothed her. 

She rubs her eyes and wipes her runny nose before looking up at you again, and gives a groggy “I understand Mama.” 

“Good,” you say, kissing her forehead. “Now can you help me finish this cake.” 

You see her eyes widen before she eagerly grabs the fork and dives right in. With your help, it’s not long before it’s almost entirely gone and when she takes that final bite of the cake she goes wide-eyed sticking her fingers in her mouth to pick out the errant piece. “What’s this Mama?” she says holding the little porcelain baby up. 

“Oh you found it Rosie,” you say excitedly, “This means you’re going to have good luck.”

“... Like a wish?”

“Sort of,” you answer.

She gives an excited shriek before she clasps the little figurine in her hands and whispers something almost inaudible to it, with the only recognizable words being “Danny” and “Neverland.” You’re slightly disappointed that your lesson hadn’t quite landed today, but you choose to leave it for now, as you don’t see the harm in wishing to go to a non-existent magical place. 

Once teeth are brushed and pajamas are put on, Rosie settles into bed, but not before making sure you’re not about to break your long-held tradition of storytime. She’s the type of kid who when she likes one story she demands to hear it over and over again. 

And lately she’s latched onto Rapunzel. 

The whole concept does unsettle you greatly, for how close it is to your story. But whatever qualms you have with the story you’re not gonna deny your daughter, because your problems are your own cross to bear, not hers. 

As you read it you get to the part where the witch mother casts her out of the tower and she wanders the forests with her children. You wonder if Rapunzel ever found joy in those years away from the mother who isolated her, away from the prince who could have taken advantage of her. She survived not only on her own, but kept others alive as well. WHat did she do? Did she forage and hunt for her babies, did she find a village where she could work to support her family? 

Sometimes you wonder if she did truly live happily after the end of the story, or if she traded one cage for another as you did before. 

Your daughter is long asleep by the time you reach the happily ever after part of the story. She’s still in the habit of sucking her thumb at night, so you gently remove it, and put one of her favorite stuffies in her arms. And that marks the end of your daily duties, so in theory you should be able to finally fall asleep and be done with this day. 

In theory.

In actuality you creep out of the bed you share with your daughter into the single bathroom of the apartment. Usually her steady breathing tends to be enough to get you to fall asleep, it’s been that way ever since she was a baby, but you’re left feeling agitated having had to think of Him more than usual today. 

Not just because of the song on the radio, but Rosie’s outburst reminded you far too much of her father. It feels like the worst injustice that she mimics someone who isn’t even here.

Now that ain’t my fault now is it darlin’? A familiar voice whispers in your mind. You feel a shudder run down your spine at the thought of him, not to mention the way you shamefully feel yourself pool within your underwear. You slide down the bathroom door, out of sight of the mirror, as though that will prevent you from facing what you’re about to do. You even close your eyes for good measure as your hand reaches your folds and your fingers caress the slick outer lips of your pussy. 

You had tried to ignore this part of yourself for so long. You justified it during your pregnancy, as your body had been making you want to do other stupid things like sleep right in the middle of the store or eat paint chips. Even after giving birth and your inner feelings remaining unchanged, you justified it by thinking you were just particularly lonely, and for all that he kept you isolated, you were never alone when you were with him. Or that he was the only man you ever knew that way so he’s all you had to go off of in order to satisfy these urges.

For as much as your mind curses Him for ever coming into your life, even after all these years, your body has yet to catch up. 

You’re far from unique in your desire for him, but it’s especially shameful for you as you know what he’s truly like. It’s like scratching a mosquito bite, you may know that it’ll just make the itching worse, but dear god did it feel good in the moment. 

But even that is far from an accurate description as you plunge your on fingers into your sopping channel in a poor imitation of what you remember. 

You bite your lip in an effort to keep noises at bay but it just makes you concentrate on the wet squelching sounds echoing through the bathroom as you plunge your fingers into yourself. The sharp sting of pain forcing your mind back to where you experience the most of it. 

“You’re so sweet darlin’,” he purrs, his jaw glistening from your juices having just made a feast of you for the past hour or so. He had made it a game to see how close he could bring you without actually letting you cum, something he tends to do when someone looks your way for a little too long, as though he means to re-establish his claim over you. That only he can give you pleasure like this but take it away on a whim if he chooses. 

“No more…” you beg, new tears forming and following the trail previously set, your lips undoubtedly bruised from how much you have been chewing on them throughout. “Please,” your thighs aching from the death grip he has them in, undoubtedly leaving bruises for you to feel in the morning. 

“Alright,” he says seemingly conceding. But before you can breathe a sigh of relief, he continues, “we’ll switch it up for tonight.”

He flips you over to your front, spreads your legs wide open again, and dives right back in. 

You can’t help the way you’re left trembling from the memory, but what does shake you somewhat is the when you realize that it’s not simply the ghost of the memory that is making you feel that bruising pressure on your inner thigh, but in fact your own hand keeping it there. 

Still the masochist within you that yearns for the ghost of a man you once thought you knew takes a hold and refuses to let go now that you’re so close to release. So you give in and continue your frantic movements biting down hard on your lip to prevent any errant cries from leaving, and grip onto your thigh for dear life, even now trying to deny yourself that you want him here with you.

As you’re coming down from your high, you fight back your tears of shame. Trying to remind yourself why you left in the first place. How for all the moments he made you feel amazing, they weren’t worth the amount of grief he caused you on a near day-to-day basis.

Grief he’s still causing you more like it. 

You don’t think you could have written a better love story in the beginning. You met him when your eyes locked on each other from across your favorite bookstore back in Memphis. He had oh so shyly approached you and asked what you were reading, a bit starry eyed as he listened. Back then and arguably still the concept of a man listening to you was such a novel and unique thing to experience. 

It progressed from there, hand-holding in the school hallway, shared milkshakes at the local diner, and Sunday dinners with his family. Of course there were the less than wholesome aspects of your relationship of stray hands when no one was looking and heated kisses after a particularly rousing performance.

Truly the hallmarks of the greatest love story the world had ever seen. 

If only you knew how wrong a love story can go, because your story went very wrong. 

You vividly remember your first time with him.

Undoubtedly the cruelest thing he ever did to you.

You were never supposed to find out about the other girls, well that’s not true. The newspapers sure knew about them but he had convinced you that it was all nonsense and that he would never do that to you. All of his friends knew, hell even some of their girlfriends knew, but ideally you were never supposed to find out. 

But the only chink in the armor was that there was in fact someone who had wanted you out as soon as he stepped in. Fact of the matter is that he was practically giddy as he told you what your fiance had been doing on the road up until that point. You were heartbroken and humiliated as to what he did and even more so when you learned he had been gearing up to break up with you the night he proposed, but only stopped when he realized that you wouldn’t be waiting for him, once his career settled.

He had been calling your house non-stop and sending his friends over all with the mission to coax you into talking to him. Worse still he even got your own friends in on it and now you can’t have a single conversation with any of them that doesn’t turn into them telling you how sorry he feels for hurting you and how he desperately wants you back. 

The only people, aside from his manager, that were happy at this development were your parents. They had liked him up until he started to really take off in his career, and they wanted none of the controversy, especially when it came to your squeaky clean, good girl image they had for you. 

They’ve been walking around with the smuggest “I told you so” looks ever since you announced that you were done with him. If only they knew their good girl had been sneaking in her boyfriend for the past three years and had a whole routine for doing so.

But the downside to this is that He was just as aware of the routine as you were. And despite it having been awhile he evidently remembered enough as he stood outside your window, right after all the lights in your house had gone out. 

“Get outta here,” you hiss at him, opening the window just a crack. “You’re gonna wake up my parents.”

“Baby I gotta talk to you,” he pleads, his face utterly heartbroken. Guilt eats at you, knowing how there were days you wished you could go back to not knowing at all. But then you get angry at not only him but yourself for these thoughts. 

If only all of your love for him had died the moment you found out, you would’ve had the strength to shut the window on him that night, and your life probably would’ve taken a very different course. 

But no, you’re hurt and you felt that you had to have the final word. “Talk to one a your other girls,” you say as you move to close your window but he beats you to it and ends up opening it wider, allowing for him to fully step into your space. 

“Get out,” you say severely. “Get out, or I’ll scream.” 

“Darlin’, please listen,” he begs.

“Don’tchu ‘baby’ ‘darlin’ me,” you whisper-yell. 

“I swear things’ll be different this time round,” he pleads, clasping his hands in yours. 

“I’m done with your nonsense, I want you outta my house and outta my life.” tears are already streaming down your face and you make no motion to wipe them away. If he’s gonna hurt you like this he deserves to know. 

He looks at you. Truly looks at you and sees that you’re dead serious about this, that for you there is no coming back from this. 

“Okay,” he says solemnly, looking down at you more defeated than you’ve ever seen him, unfelled tears doting his eyes, and his bottom lip trembling. 

That takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it. “Good,” you say, trying to stamp down the urge to be mad that he’s not fighting harder. There is a hurricane of emotions going through your entire being, hating him and loving him at the same time, but you recognize that you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of being able to sort through said emotions while he’s here. 

“But…”

“But?” you say, confused as to what more there is to say. 

“Let me have you,” he begs breathlessly, stepping closer to you, boxing you into the wall behind you. “Just for tonight,” he clarifies as though that’s gonna make it better.

That offends you but you can’t afford to raise your voice so you hiss at him that it’s not as though you didn’t offer when he was here. “I ain’t ever gonna forgive myself for bein’ so stupid and steppin’ out on you, I-I thought I had more time, tha-that we’d got the rest of our lives together,” he says his voice painfully small, and his eyes pleading with you to agree. 

Your heart swells hearing his words, pleading with your brain to forgive him seeing how much pain the thought of never being with you again is causing the both of you. Another, unmentionable part is also hounding your brain to accept his offer if only for the fact that you had wanted this yourself for so long.

“If-If I do that…” you say in a low voice, your face burning as to what the both of you want but aren’t saying aloud. “Then you’ll leave and never come back?” though even as you say that you’re not exactly sure how you feel over that prospect.

“Just one night sweetheart,” he begs, giving you a quick desperate kiss to your lips. “One night to know what a life with you could’ve been like, and I’ll be outta yer hair forever,” he says with a quick peck to your lips. 

He makes it almost sound romantic, not like he’s quite literally backing you into a corner, and coaxing you into something you’re not sure you want just so that you would finally know peace from him. But that's far from your mind as that little bit of contact does something to you and it’s like opening the floodgates for all the feelings for him you’ve been trying to bury. 

It feels like you're transported to almost a year ago when, he would sneak his way back into your room after having said his goodbyes to your family and parking his car around the corner out of view. How you both move your blankets and pillows onto the floor to avoid the creaky springs of your mattress, how you both keep your voices low, and muffle most sounds with the pillows, how he kicks off his shoes and unbuttons his shirt before slowly undressing you, your body being treated like a present to unwrap. 

Like this it’s easy to forget what he did, easy to forget the pain he’s caused when he’s treating you so sweetly. Kissing every inch of skin, nipping at your sensitive skin every so often, before laving at the bruising area with his tongue. You bite down on your lip hard, willing yourself to keep a cap on the filthy moans and declarations of love alike. 

You had done things with him before but it had never felt quite like this. He had always been insistent that you wait until the wedding night for that, wanting to savor you and all you had to offer before the time came. Which made it feel all the worse when you did find out about those other girls. Your friends had tried to justify it by saying that he was just getting in some “practice” for you, but that hardly made it feel any better. 

But the way he touches you, so sure of his newfound skills, it’s almost easy to forgive him. He treats you almost deceptively sweet, and for as hard as you try to keep yourself quiet, you admittedly don’t do a great job at it. But you manage to keep a good enough lid on yourself. But as it goes on it feels like he himself forgets that he had to do the same, as moans and groans alike continue to escape from his mouth. 

That should’ve been your first clue that he was up to something, but by then as he continues to bury himself deeper and deeper into you, you can’t focus on much else. Had you been thinking straight you would remember he arguably has better control of himself than you do, as he often would tease you over it. 

But in the moment that’s not what you’re thinking about. All you had on your brain was him, and how good and right he felt.

If you could go back in time you think you would’ve strangled your younger, far more naive self, as now in retrospect it became clear what he was planning on doing. He had no qualms to exposing what you had done already with him if it meant merely getting a chance to talk to you, why wouldn’t he take the opportunity to go full scorched earth if given the chance. 

He continues his steady rhythm, and when he whispers in your ear, “It’s only ever gonna be you, darlin’,” you find yourself letting out a silent scream. Your eyes screwed shut, so lost in the pleasure of it all, you would only get the tail-end of the disdainful look he would give upon failing to get you to crack. 

Still you vividly remember how conflicted you did feel in the moment, how for all that it felt good, it also made your stomach turn, for all the hurt he’s caused you yet how deceptively sweet he could be to you. It just gave you a serious case of whiplash. 

But you were so focused on keeping as quiet as possible not even being able to fathom the heap of trouble you would be in should your parents ever find out. You could hardly fathom the agent of your destruction laid within you, but it wasn’t until it was too late did it truly click. 

That devious look he had in his eyes, the one that spoke nothing but trouble. The very same look that seemingly first trapped you all those years ago when you caught it staring at you from across the bookstore. He picked up his rhythm, not allowing for you to fully recover, from the last time, as he pistons into you seeking out release for himself.

You were so dizzy in that moment you didn’t register how he raised his hand onto your night table, before quickly slamming it three times into the wall. 

The very wall you shared with your parents. 

Even in the moment you didn’t fully recognize what he had just done, everything sort of blurring together. Before you can even hope to get your bearings, he’s spinning the both of you around so that you now were on top of him, his fingers digging bruises into your hips, as he thrusts back up into you, no longer trying to feign tenderness, as he seems to rip another climax from you as he lets an unrestrained groan fall from his lips, while your inner walls tighten around him. 

Even in your haze, you realize that this is bad, and you manage to gather yourself enough to slap your hand over his mouth, but that does little to muffle the singer. Especially as it seems as though he's hellbent to be heard. “What did you just do?” you ask unbelieving, frozen in fear even as you hear the muffled shouts of your father through the wall. You feel underneath your palm as his mouth curls into a grin, as he shudders and you feel his hot seed burn you from within. And that’s when you hear the powerful footfalls of your father burst out of his room before he slams open your bedroom door. 

You can only imagine the image you make at that moment, naked sitting astride the nearly fully clothed boy you had sworn up and down for weeks you were done for good with. “What in the hell is going on in here!” your father shouts at the top of his lungs.

Everything after that happens in a blur of your fathers harsh shouts and the sharp sting that comes from your mothers hand across your face as she calls you a whore. By the time it’s all said and done you’re on your knees at the front door begging them to let you back into the house. 

“Take her with you,” your daddy practically spat at him as he tossed you to your knees outside of what was once your home. “I didn’t raise no whores, and you seem to now be in the business a collectin’ them.” 

You can almost hear the sound of a rattlesnake as his arm coils around your shoulder, laying his jacket over your weeping form like a gentleman. “Don’tchu worry baby,” he whispers in your ear. 

He’s almost angelic in his appearance, playing the savior role well, having escaped your home relatively unscathed and in remarkably high-spirits for the situation. But you don’t have much of a choice in the moment, remembering Gina’s words of how easily this family will toss aside wayward women, but it never truly sunk in that you were liable to become one. 

He would tell everybody that your daddy had thrown you out after asserting that you still wanted to be with Him in spite of all of that he’s done, and your folks practically disowned you for it. You let him say what he wants because you don’t see a point in telling the truth and if you’re being honest, part of you wants to believe it. It was a far more romantic story than what had actually happened. 

As you’re coming down from your second and somehow less satisfying orgasm, does the guilt start to creep in. Even after all these years you still yearn for his touch. 

But that is so much easier to admit than the alternative of missing Him.

It eats at you that you still think of Him like this after all that he did to you, and worse still it’s almost like you want him to come back.

Your heart practically leaps out your chest when you hear a soft knock at the door and for one horrifying second you think you’ve somehow summoned him to you. 

“Mama…” you hear a small voice whimper behind the locked door, and you breathe a sigh of relief. “Mama, I threw up.”

You don’t know if it’s a consolidation of three different people telling you the same thing in one day, the culmination of your late night loneliness for the past four or so years, or the noxious fumes of the truly unholy combination of stomach acid, red beans, and Jelly Beans that you had to clean up in your sleep deprived state, but you come to the conclusion that you can no longer do this by yourself. 

Being a mother tended to be enough of a deterrent to most men in the city, which didn’t bother you one bit, but it did make you feel all the worse when you did meet the few who were still willing even after learning about Rosie. 

Sam or Lou may very well have been as nice and understanding as they seemed to be, but because of Him, you now look suspiciously at every man trying to get close. 

Perhaps the women in your life were onto something and it is about time for you to move on with your life. Because if you resolve yourself to being for all intents and purposes a shut-in who never knew another man’s touch other than His, then you ran for nothing. 

So it’s with a semi-defeated sigh that you tell Jenny the next morning to send over Lee’s friend to the shop while you’re working to “see how it goes.” 

You do admittedly put a little more effort into your appearance than you would on an average day and you perk up every time a man who looked close to your age walked in. But if any of them were sent by Jenny they didn’t mention it. 

You only ever had one boyfriend when you were a teen, so it feels more than a bit intimidating to go into this, but you can’t deny yourself a life anymore. 

Afterall if you don’t then you may as well have stayed in Memphis. 

The day goes by and of the few men that do enter the shop, of the few that seem interested in you, none of them knew who Jenny was.  

It’s well past closing and feeling both tired and rejected, however the bane of your existence you call Jenny has yet to return, so you instead just flip the sign without properly locking up and hope they’ll be back soon. This isn’t necessarily unusual but you’re just eager for this day to end and hope that a nice cuddle with your daughter will be enough to lift your spirits. 

But for now there are books that need to be out back.

Soon you finally hear the shop bell ring, but instead of the comforting tiny footsteps or the recognizable clack of Jenny’s heels, you instead hear an unfamiliar pattern of heavy footsteps over the low volume of the radio. You look between the shelves from where you’re stocking books in the back and while you can’t make out specific details you see what is undoubtedly the shape of a man standing at the counter. 

“I’m sorry Sir,” you announce still from behind the shelf. “We’re closed for the evening, but please feel free to return tomorrow.” 

“Oh I ain’t going anywhere sweetheart,” a voice drawls.

A voice you would recognize anywhere.

You think you begin to understand at that moment why some animals will chew off their own arms to escape a trap. After all, what is a limb or two in the face of inevitable doom? And even when they do eventually die, they will at least go with their head held high knowing that they did all that they could, because better dead than captured.

But you stand there frozen, barely capable of breathing at a steady rate. You feel like every drop of blood has been drained from your body. Like someone reached into your lungs and snatched the air right out of them. Like your bones have lost all integrity and you’re only kept standing by the mere fact you don’t want to draw attention to yourself. 

He is here. 

Elvis is here.

Not only that but the footsteps getting louder tell you he is getting closer. 

Fuck.

Your mind is going a million miles an hour to try to get out of this, but all of them fall flat when you remember your daughter is not here and if you were to run that would just leave her in his clutches. So rather than act on any plan, you walk out from behind the bookshelf, because there is no point fighting the inevitable. 

You’re hoping your look isn’t so much deer in the headlights and more awestruck and in disbelief that he found you. Which is true to some extent as you thought you had been so careful all these years, so all you can muster out when you see him for the first time is a pathetic little “h-how?”

Your hackles raise slightly as you see him reach behind him, and to your surprise he pulls out an old battered copy of Nancy Drew. You’re so confused for a second until you recognize it as yours. 

One of the many that Gina would send you periodically when you lived with your parents.

One of the many that had the name of this very store stamped to the inner cover. 

One of the many you took with you when you were kicked out.

One of the many left behind at Graceland. 

Fuck.

You want to kick yourself both for being so careless in your haste to leave, but you have no time for that as he says, “I ain’t as smart as you baby, but I figured out your breadcrumbs eventually.”

He thinks you wanted him to find you. 

Didn’tchu though?

“E-Elvis…” you whisper, the single name somehow feeling wrong as it comes out of your mouth. You’ve avoided even thinking about it all these years, as though if you try hard enough you’ll be able to purge him from your mind and thus from your life. As though simply uttering it will somehow summon him. 

That theory isn’t disproven as he, as usual, wastes no time in getting straight to what he came here for, his long legs carrying himself to you as he moves to engulf you within his arms. You stave off the immediate instinct of putting your hands up and allow this to happen, remembering what used to happen when you would deny him. 

He even goes so far as to spin you around, and you lose your footing and have to rely on him in order to not face plant onto the floor. But this works all the better to create the image of the long-lost lovers joyfully reuniting after so long. 

But as he gazes into your eyes, it isn’t fully complete until he leans down to capture your lips. You would like to say you had to force yourself not to flinch away, but even you would know you’re not that good of a liar.

It’s a kiss for the ages truly, both all-consuming and yet leaving you longing for more. The pitfall of having denied getting close to anyone these past few years now show themselves full-force as you on instinct lean full-force into his touch, and welcome his kiss, even fully knowing how precarious your situation is.  

All these years you never could’ve imagined how much you could miss touch- how much you could miss his touch. The kiss itself isn’t even broken until he roughly moves you against the bookshelf and forces his thigh between yours and your left gasping for air as you feel him for the first time. 

And you can’t help the little whine that leaves your lips before you gather yourself once more to look him in the eyes. 

“Did’ya miss me sweetheart?” he whispers against your lips. 

“I…” you say, tears welling in your eyes. “I’ve thought about you every night.” 

This is not a lie.

His fond expression doesn’t crack an inch as you say that, but before you can sigh an internal breath of relief, you feel a tight grip on your wrist as well as on your jaw.

“Then where’ve you been all these years,” he says, low and dangerous. 

It’s certainly not an unfair question to ask. But you’ve been prepared to answer this question since the moment you stepped foot outside of Graceland for a quick errand.

You don’t know what he knows yet, and that’s terrifying.   

“I…I…” you say in a quiet voice, all your years of preparation failing you when you needed it the most. 

In the back of your mind, though you are loath to admit it, you think you always knew this day was coming, that he would find you, and the only thing you could do was to try to lessen the blowback you would experience. It’s why yours and your daughter’s last name is Love. It’s why you never tried to get involved with another man. It’s why you even made that goddamn deal in the first place. 

“I’m going to disappear,” you say, casually taking a sip of your tea, not truly a fan of the taste, but lately it’s been one of the few things your sensitive stomach could handle. “And you’re gonna help me do that.” You couldn’t just ask anyone for help on this, you were surrounded only by sychophants who would do practically anything for Elvis, so you had to look elsewhere to the person whose only side he was on, was his own. 

“And why would I help you?” The Colonel said, idly stirring his coffee, but obviously trying to mask the spark of interest in his eyes. For as much of a slimeball as he can be, you would be a fool to not acknowledge that he’s a decent enough businessman at the end of the day to recognize  a good deal when he sees one. 

“Because you want me gone as much as I wanna be gone,” you state. He hated that Elvis kept you around, even more so when Elvis made it clear he had no intention of staying a bachelor once he finished service. 

Truly under any other circumstance he would be the last person in this house you would confide in, but though your desires were very different they did often run parallel. Something you realized when he talked Elvis out of eloping right before he got shipped out and into a long engagement. Truly the greatest boon you’ve been given since you’ve gotten here, the lack of recognizability or association with the rockstar will serve your purposes all the better.

“Can’t argue with that logic girl,” he says, taking a bite out of the muffins you had baked this morning as a peace offering to him. “Why do you even need my help?” he questions.

“Because I need someone to make sure that he doesn’t ever find me,” you declare, you had practiced this in your head so many times, too afraid to ever voice it aloud or write it down should any of it get back to him. Even an Ocean away you still feel his breath on the back of your neck, with the only safe place being inside your head. 

You had excused yourself from following him to Germany by feigning sickness with the promise that you would join him as soon as you felt better. Which wasn’t hard to do considering your symptoms before he left, left you practically bedridden.

Ever since you figured out your… condition (it felt too scary to even think in your head, let alone voice out loud), your mind had been running rampant with all of the possibilities of how he would react. None of which you're willing to risk coming to fruition. 

“And if I said No?” he asks, but from the look in his eyes he’s all but ready to pack your bags himself. Part of you feels guilty to leave the boy you once loved with such a man, but you have bigger things to worry about now. 

“You’re absolutely free to say no, Parker,” you assure, but he’s savvy enough to know that’s not the end of it. You don’t know whether it’s you mimicking the late Gladys Presley, or something that comes natural with becoming a mother, however you do know you need to assert yourself now of all times, not just for your sake but your baby’s. “Regardless of your help or not, I’m gonna to leave. Now whether I’m gone for twenty minutes or twenty years, will all depend on you, but know that this will also determine how long you’ll be able to keep your position as Manager.” 

He seems to bristle at your words, “And how do you figure dat Lil’ Miss?” he says with a dangerous look in his eyes as you seem to threaten the only thing he happens to care about. But once you do explain it he looks at you with no small amount of respect in his eyes as he mulls over your plan. “Quite devious,” he comments, literally tipping his hat at you. “I think I’m beginnin’ to get what he sees in you.” 

You're far from proud of your plan, and the slimeball’s admiration of it doesn’t help either, but you know for a fact it will work, and Parker is gonna make damn sure that he doesn’t ever find you. 

You made that plan practically bulletproof, but you never factored into account that you would choke in the moment that it truly matters. “Elvis I…” you trail off, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, clutching your hands on his shirt to keep yourself somewhat steady, trembling from the effort it takes to maintain that makeshift barrier. You’re either about to give the performance of a lifetime or… or…

No 

You can’t think like that otherwise…

This has to work. 

Your brain is going a million miles a minute, trying to remind yourself that you have to make this work if you have any hope of getting out of this without him ever having a chance of finding her.

But in real time you watch as this notion turns to ash in your mouth. 

You feel as your blood freezes in your veins when you hear the door slam open only to be followed by the familiar little dashing footsteps. Your heart drops into your stomach as you hear your daughter stop dead in her tracks and you want to throw up at the thought of him laying eyes on her. This is truly what all your nightmares have been building up to, but even they paled in comparison to the reality of what would actually happen. 

“Danny!!!” she squeals at the top of her lungs, before sprinting right into the arms of the man you were so desperately running from. You’re too shocked to do anything about it at the moment, and only watch in horror as something beyond your worst nightmare plays out before your very eyes. 

Even when your instincts kick in to keep her away from him, he casually moves your hands out of the way as he easily scoops her up and over his head, practically playing keep away as you try to take her back. “Is today the day!?!?” she squeals, wrapping her arms around his neck as best she could, giving him a kiss on the cheek, none the wiser at the danger the two of you were in.

“It sure is baby girl,” he says with a mile wide grin on his face. “Why don’tcha go pack everything you’re gonna need in Neverland?” You don’t miss the way his eyes slide your way, no doubt trying to gauge your reaction. 

She squeals in delight, as she jumps out of his arms and makes her way to the stairs, completely oblivious to your state. 

Everything your daughter ever said about “Danny” suddenly makes a whole lot more sense, and you can’t help but want to kick yourself for not paying attention. You thought she was safe with Jenny, you want to throw up at the thought that you unintentionally sent her into the lion's den without her.

She doesn’t even have the decency to face you in that moment, seeing her right outside the window, in Lee’s arms -or Charlie as you would later learn- pointedly not looking in. 

You don’t have the luxury of being mad as you feel his attention focus back on you in that moment. 

“Now…,” he says as he brings your face closer to his, tenderly grabbing your chin, wiping away a tear. “You wanna try again, sweetheart,” he grins maliciously, knowing you’ll have no choice but to be “honest.” 

And that’s it you have only one card left to play and you pray whatever forces that have written the story of your life will be merciful and let this plan work as you hoped it would all those years ago.

You fall to your knees and begin to sob uncontrollably into your palms. It’s actually easier than you had initially hoped, it in fact takes more effort not to cry when you think about him. It’s a miracle you’ve been able to stay this intelligible up to this point.

“Elvis,” you cry, trying to sound as pathetic and heartbroken as you possibly could. “Elvis I-I-I’m so sorry,” you stutter trying to really sell it. “He-he told me that you kn-knew and you didn’t want me anymore,” you hiccup for good measure. “Ho-how you couldn’t have a baby weighing you down, and that-that if I ever came back, he would make sure I would lose her for good.”

You start to hyperventilate, but it’s far from intentional, as you know your very life is at stake in this moment. If he doesn’t believe you… you can’t think like that. 

You know him well enough to know that he won’t believe your words specifically, but he does believe in the world he’s created in his head. That regardless of what you feel, what you say, or even what you do, you love him and want to be with him- always. It’s just others preventing that from happening. It was the women who tempted him on the road, and then it was your family speaking poison in your ear, and then it was the men he couldn’t trust to not look your way. It was never you personally, regardless of how he would sometimes lash out at you, you wanted to be there because he wanted you to be there. 

In the back of your mind when you had just barely begun to formulate leaving, you knew it would be foolish to believe there wasn’t a chance, no matter how slim, that he would find you. And you knew that it wouldn’t go without punishment should he ever find you should it ever occur. So you had to formulate a plan not just to leave, but how best to set yourself up if he ever returned. 

(There have been some nights that you lay awake believing that you prepared so well not because you were paranoid, but because it was an inevitability.)

You hear his clothes shift as he kneels down before you, and he takes your chin into his hand though much gentler this time. 

“Who’s ‘he’” he demands, voice as cold as a tomb. 

He’s buying it, you think, though you have no time to celebrate. You let out a truly pathetic little blubber through your tears, purposefully unintelligible trying to sell the emotions. 

“Who?” he asks, softer this time around, but no less urgent.

“The co-” you cut yourself off taking a deep steady breath. “The Colonel,” you whisper as though you fear speaking his name aloud will bring him to this very spot.

Parker’s far from innocent but you feel a slight twinge of guilt that his downfall would be for something he didn’t do as opposed to all the things he had done. But you can’t think like that anymore, it was gonna be either him or you. 

Someone would need to suffer because of what you did, and you would be damned before it was you or your daughter. 

And so Parker is now the villain who cruelly kept you and your daughter away from him, and not that you wanted so desperately to get away from him that you practically disappeared off the face of the Earth. But it seems like a fair trade. Parker loses his job, you lose your life. Maybe not in the literal sense, but in all the ways that matter you’ll be gone. 

You don’t relax at all when you feel him gently cup your face in his hands to softly wipe your tears away. You look upon the devastatingly handsome man, as he looks as if he means to take you in his arms to never let you go.“Don’tchu worry baby,” he says, wiping your tears away. “You don’t gotta worry bout that rat bastard no more.” You let out a small cry, hoping it sounds more out of relief than out of devastation to his words. “So now you and Rosie can come home,” he states with a delusional smile on his face. 

Despite the fact that you knew this would realistically end one of two ways, you can’t help but balk at the words. You try your best to smile at his words, but even you realize how hollow that gesture is, in spite of the part you know you’re meant to play in the moment, between the two of you, only one of you is an actor.

He’s having none of it as you feel the previously gentle hand cupping your face wrap around your throat. “Now. You. And. Rosie. Can. Come. Home.” he grits out, his grip around your neck tightening with each word emphasized. 

He knows what your answer is, no doubt he’s just trying to rub salt in the wound knowing that it’s not a choice he’s giving you. This is all the proof you need that he doesn’t fully believe you, but is willing to play along. Leaving may have been forgivable, staying away for so long is another matter entirely. 

He’s just punishing you for not being as enthusiastic as you should be at the prospect of coming “home,” as you should be.

You’re not playing pretend well enough.

“Mama!” Rosie squeals excitedly and when he lets go, you turn to see her making her way back downstairs, her favorite blanket now a makeshift rucksack of what you assume to be all toys dragging behind her. “Mama it worked!” she said, as she ran full tilt toward you, holding something in her palm. “Danny’s gonna take us to Neverland today.”

You see the little porcelain baby from the king cake and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere else. But you know better than to believe in wishes.

“Can we go now?” she says, her little hand grasping one of Elvis’ fingers and shaking furiously. “Now please,” she begs, before he scoops her up into his arms and propping her on his hip. He holds her close and you're forced to face what you have been ignoring all these years. The shape of the nose, the way her lips curl in such a specific way, there is only one place she could have gotten all of that from. It feels like just your luck that your child would be practically a carbon copy of the man you so desperately tried to get away from. Really it was only a matter of time before someone figured it out. 

“Now hold ya’ horses yittle,” chucking her under the chin in a far too familiar manner, as she giggles in his arms. “Yer mama’s gotta get ready herself.”

“I… do…” you say, playing along, trying to keep a cap on your distress for your daughter's sake. “I-I gotta pack a few more things baby,” you say, giving her a kiss on her forehead, hoping she misses the tears in your eyes. “I’ll b-be right back.” you manage to stutter out.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” his voice so saccharine sweet it makes our teeth ache. “We’ll be right here.” 

As you turn around you feel a hard smack on your ass, and you fully stop, burning in humiliation that he would treat you like that, especially in front of your daughter. 

The humiliation only further ramps up as you walk up the stairs, and you can feel the slick already gathering between your thighs. Less out of titillation you believe and more out of a defense mechanism, knowing what will more than likely happen the second he's able to get you alone.

Or is it?

It doesn’t feel real as you step into the upstairs apartment, you see Gina at the stove and Sue filling out a crossword puzzle, her glasses threatening to fall off her nose, none of which suggests they have any idea of what’s going on downstairs. You’re almost angry about that, like it would’ve been easier to walk away from them if they had also been in on it as well. 

“Where’s Rosie so eager to rush off to?” Sue asks idly, not looking up from the paper.

“Oh ummm…” you say, trying to think on your feet for a decent enough lie. “ Sh-she’s going to a sleepover with-with Jenny.” 

You’re usually a better liar than this, but him being so close again has you all out of sorts tonight. Not to mention your mind is running rampant with all the worst case scenarios possible at the moment with the most egregious being that he’s gonna take her and run, forcing you to chase him down the same way he’s undoubtedly done for you these past few years. You’re practically feeling every second tick by, fearing the longer you take the greater the chances will be that they’re both gone. 

Is that how he felt when he was away from you? A small voice in your head asks. It’s an awful roiling feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if the person you loved most wasn’t where you left them. Would he be so cruel to do that to you?

“Did that fella Jenny setchu up with ever show up?” Gina asks, wiping her hands on her apron. 

“Ye-yeah and… and I’m gonna get dinner with him,” you swallow, the lie tasting like bile in your mouth. As you turn to your room, already mentally mapping where the important documents were in your bedroom, preparing to pack a few outfits for Rosie, and whatever other odds and ends you would need. 

Your answer catches Gina off guard, and Sue immediately looks up from the paper sharing a look with your other Aunt. “Ain’t that a little fast, Hon?” 

“Maybe…” you say, hesitating as you try to hold back your tears. 

“Ya don’t gotta go if you ain’t ready for it,” Sue says behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder, that you flinch away from. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong If it’s still a little too early for you.” 

That’s the worst part about it. You know they would fight tooth and nail for both you and Rosie if you just asked. But you know the type of mess Elvis can and will bring into this house should you decide to fight him on this. After all they’ve done for you, keeping them out of the type of spectacle he brings is the least you can do.

“I have to go,” you say sternly. 

One look at your squared back shoulders and your far away look they know there’s no stopping this. You hold back your tears as you accept their hug and accept their well wishes. You say your goodbyes promising to be back soon, unsure if you will ever see them again, and you put on your biggest fakest smile as you let go of them, wanting to at least leave them with one happy memory.

Relief floods your entire being seeing her at the bottom of the steps, only for the dread to return seeing him there with her. Especially when you hear the story he’s telling her. You don’t miss the glance he steals your way before focusing on your daughter once again. “I thought to myself, ‘thas the girl whose gonna be mine.’”

“Like-like love at first sight,” Rosie asks, and you can practically hear the stars in her eyes.

“Exactly yittle,” he drawls out. “Took her awhile to figure it out though but she learned eventually. Now we’re all gonna go home.” His eyes slide right off her and cut directly to you. Her eyes follow him and she quickly scurries off of him to reach you. 

“You ready Mama?” she asks you as she takes you by the hand leading you to the door where you see a car parked right out front.  It may as well have been a hearse in your mind. 

You pick her up and you look down the darkened streets and you briefly flirt with the idea of just sprinting and never looking back. But the hand on your elbow guiding you to the car puts a halt to those thoughts. 

You still don’t know how much of your story he does actually believe, so you sit yourself down in the car without so much as a fuss and resolve yourself to your fate. Though that doesn’t stop you from seating yourself in the middle and placing Rosie by the window, as you still aren’t totally out of the mindset of keeping her as far away from him as possible. Neither of them seem to mind as she eagerly presses tiny hands up to the glass in awe of the nightlife of New Orleans, while he slithers an arm over your shoulder bringing you closer to him. 

As you contemplate what your life will look like from now on, you pass by so many places you’ve become familiar with these last four years, but what nearly breaks you are the unfamiliar places. Record stores, movie theaters, restaurants, and so many other places you avoided all due to an irrational belief that he would somehow be there. You did your best to limit your time in the outside world to only when you absolutely had to be out. 

Maybe that’s why you were so willing to trust Jenny and her altruistic generosity to watch over your daughter and take her places you were too anxious to venture to. 

You caged yourself into your new seemingly better life, but you didn't live at all. You were hiding. Always so afraid that he would somehow find you, you neglected to live. You put yourself in a different cage and convinced yourself you were free. 

“Mama? Mama, why are you crying?” your sweet little girl asks. 

But you’re gonna do what you’ve always done for your daughter. What you’ve always done when it comes to Elvis. You’re going to play pretend. 

“Mama’s just so happy we’re going baby,” you say with a solemn kiss to her forehead as his grip further tightens on your shoulder. 

“I know what’ll cheer you up!” she declares and completely unaware of the salt she’s about to pour on your wounds, she pulls something out of her little rucksack. “Danny, do you know the story of ‘Punzel?”

“Can’t say that I do darlin’” he says, eyeing you over her head. She sets the Grimm fairy tale book down on her lap and opens it to the worn pages she’s seemed to memorize by heart. She proceeds to read to the both of you, in the sense that she recites the story she’s heard maybe half-a-million times before word-for-word, going off pictures more than the actual words on the page to know where she’s at in the story. You try your best to focus on the book for your daughter's sake, but it’s nearly impossible to do when you feel Elvis' familiar bruising grip on your inner thigh. 

You shoot him a look and grab a hold of his wandering hand, trying to signal for him to stop and pay attention to Rosie. He gives a mirthful smile to you as he feels the slick there and seemingly tightens his grip in retribution, as though he wants to get a head start on re-establishing his claim over you. You in response bite your cheek and bear it, until at one point it nearly becomes too much and one lone tear rolls down your cheek and onto the page of the prince wandering blindly through the forest.  

Your daughter is far too sweet for her own good, as she notices this and gives you a gentle pat on your cheek, trying to comfort you the same you’ve done for her before. 

“Don’t worry Mama,” she reassures you, mirroring what you’ve done for her when a story gets her a little too worked up. “They always live happy ever after.”

You give a shuddering sigh as Elvis finally let’s go of your thigh. You clutch onto that little porcelain figure in your pocket and hope she’s right.

You make it to Memphis in record time, Rosie having long since tired herself out, is wrapped securely in your arms, but you’ll find no suh peace with his arm coiled around your shoulder as he sadistically whispers how Rosie’ll have a blast meeting the rest of his family while the two of you get “reacquainted,” of course he used more colorful language but you don’t want to have to think about that for right now. 

When the familiar gates come into view 

“Ahh, my baby missed home that bad,” he whispers, giving a deceptively sweet kiss to your tear-stricken cheek. “Why don’tcha hand the ‘lil one over to me and you just head up to bed and get ready for me?”

Despite the questioning lilt in his tone you know for a fact he’s not asking. And so going against all of your instincts screaming in your head, you let go of your daughter and watch as he takes a hold of her. To your relief she’s at the very least on the same floor as you, but you can only hope that she, at the very least, will sleep through the rest of the night, because you doubt he’ll let you out even a minute sooner than he has to. 

The bedroom has changed in many ways since you’ve been gone, though the most striking thing  was how your side of the bed looks as though it were converted into a little shrine for you. Small baubles and trinkets you left behind on the stand, you even find an old nightgown of yours on your side of the bed, the last thing he ever saw you in. It doesn’t fit you like it used to, having and breastfeeding a baby will do that to you, but you put it on all the same knowing he will want to see you in it. 

Looking at yourself in the mirror, seeing your breasts straining against the silk material and the bruises peeking out beneath the scandalously short hemline, it really does settle in that this was all inevitable. This is the very same image you saw the night before he left for Germany.

The same image that confirmed your decision to leave in the first place. 

This moment, feels like the dread you always felt when getting to the last few pages of a book. As things were wrapping up and you would have to face the harsh reality of your situation...

You’re back in the fucking hotel room.

You won’t even have the luxury of daydreaming of your escape, because there is no world where you leave without Rosie, and he knows that. He knows she’s the reason you ran, and knows that without her you’re never gonna run again. That’s why he went to the lengths he did to endear himself to her first before you ever had an inkling as to what was going on. 

Your thoughts turn to Jenny, and how you entrusted what you loved the most to her, only to have her spit in your face by turning around practically handing her over to him on a platter. Either she knew that he was her father and didn’t bother to question why you were so desperate to get away that you faked a whole other life, or she didn’t and handed over your daughter to a stranger. You don’t know which is worse. 

You also can’t forget how she was perhaps the most vehement about you dating again, which you can’t even begin to understand if she was working for him the whole time. But you can’t put it above him that he wouldn’t have Jenny push the issue if only to further twist the knife if you ever did take up her offer. As though to remind you that you never had a chance of moving on. 

Because it always goes back to him.

You want to hide from it all and you give into the urge, and crawl under the silky sheets of the bed, for all the good it will do to protect you. 

Monsters don’t hide under your bed. They crawl into it. Those are your last conscious thoughts as you feel the bed shift 

“Welcome home Satnin,” he whispers before you feel the sheets being ripped away from you.

Taglist

@venus-haze​​ @djsjs13949​​ @ilovehobi101​​ @butlerslut​​ @richardslady121​​ @giabelia​​ @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051​​ @myradiaz​​  @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale​​ 

@j-v-9-2  @eliseinmemphis @dkayfixates  @immi547 @thatbanditqueen   @marriedtoeddie @cuteejeno @itlover8000  @isthlsfate  @mgparker  @thatbanditqueen   @softsatnin  @literally-just-elvis-fics @adaydreamaway08 @airyx0x0 @domoron​ @artlover8992

#elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #yandere!elvis x reader #austin!elvis #austin butler #yandere #yandere!elvis #yandere!austin!elvis #yandere x reader #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis movie #elvis presely smut #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis fic #austin butler x reader

[17020s]

HI!! GODDDD I LOVE UR ISAGI FIC!! heard u need ideas hehe desperately need to hear ur thoughts on domestic rin please 🙏

☆ DOMESTIC LIFE.

What's it like to live with Rin Itoshi? 1.1k fluff. ai you have such a big brain i love u i hope i did this right

RIN ITOSHI likes domesticity. When he realized that he was now earning enough money to invest in a home of his own, he didn't think twice—he needed to have a space of his own. He starts off with an apartment. Nothing too big, as he knows that there will be only two people living there, and he will not have people coming over.

Yes, he took your presence into consideration as he searched for a place to live. You are his significant other, and have been with him for a few years, ever since you were teenagers. It was somewhat awkward for him, it was either you going over to his house or him going to yours, but there was never a sense of privacy.

He didn't tell you right away. In fact, he waited until everything was ready to tell you. Because he doesn't want for you to experience that same awkwardness with your family like he did. He wants you all to himself. Rin Itoshi wants to be with you for as long as he can.

The domestic life suits him. He excels at everything. Chores are split, but if he notices that you're too tired (whether it's from having a bad day, period pains, or anything really) he won't hesitate to pick up where you left off. He'll do it, letting out a few complaints. Those are all bullshit, though. He wants to help you out as much as he can. Rin will subtly ask for affection in return.

Laundry day is what gets him excited. He carries the dirty laundry basket and you place the clothes inside the washer. He will never admit it, but he likes doing the laundry with you. There is always something new that you show him. One time, you mixed together some detergent and water, making a soapy mixture. You dipped your hands in the liquid, forming an 'O' shape and blowing on it. Rin was fighting the small smile that was forming on his face, just because you were blowing bubbles. You see the fun side of life, and he likes that.

Then, you move the clothes to the dryer, and once they're done, he carries the basket back to your shared bedroom, laying all the clothes on the bed so that you can start folding them. He turns on the tv, handing you the remote so that you can pick your favorite show to watch. It's the least he can do, since he forces you to watch a horror movie with him every two weeks. He can handle anything you put on, even if it's some soap opera he does not know of.

(You get Rin hooked on some of your favorite shows. He'll never admit that. He judges absolutely everything and everyone, yes, but it's entertaining.)

Folding the newly washed clothes with Rin is nice. His technique isn't bad; if a shirt or pant ends up wrinkly, he'll shrug. "That's what the steamer is for, idiot" is his response. He always stands in front of you as he folds, so he can sneak glances and see your concentrated face as you try to fold your clothes to minimize wrinkles.

Cleaning the house every week is a must. His height gives him a big advantage, so he cleans the highest spots of the house. Sometimes, when he's cleaning cabinets, you take advantage of his position, that leaves his torso free and exposed to potential danger. That danger being you, who attempts to tackle him into a hug.

As I mentioned previously, Rin makes you watch a horror film with him once every two weeks. He wants to have his fun too, he even makes popcorn for you. You have Rin as your personalized pillow, sometimes sitting on his lap as his hands cover your face when he senses a jumpscare is coming.

Rin is one of the best cooks you'll ever meet. Unlike his brother, he can make a decent meal. Being a pro athlete means that, most of the time, he needs to have his meals prepped. And he does just that. He plans his meals for the week and shops accordingly. He asks you if you would like a meal plan, and will respect it if you say 'no'. If you do, he'll take you grocery shopping with him, explaining a few things about minerals and vitamins that you can find in food. He's a food geek.

Cooking together doesn't happen very often due to his job, but when it does, it's magical. It makes you feel like you're a teenager again, with his arm grazing yours, him looking away while the tip of his ears are pink, taking a spoonful of the food and feeding it to him as a taste test. He likes the food you make, and you like his.

Once, you came home from grocery shopping, and Rin was cooking. He doesn't bother to use aprons, he thinks he looks ridiculous wearing them. As you stepped in to greet him, he was caught off guard. He accidentally spilled some flour, making it fall on his black shirt. Rin Itoshi does not make the same mistake twice, so the next time you saw him cook, he had himself an apron. You took a picture of him, which is now your wallpaper.

Showers are calming, especially when Rin is there. He is too shy to shower together with you. It might happen at some point, but not now. When he's showering, you're usually brushing your teeth next to him, the only thing keeping you apart being the shower curtain. He does the same to you; when he's combing his hair and you're showering, he asks you about the weather, how you're doing, and your plans for the day.

The sad part about living with Rin, though, is the fact that he wakes up before you, and sometimes leaves while you still sleep. He sends you a text, explaining why he had to leave earlier, and that he loves you. He gets up early to work out, and also to go to football practice. When you do wake up at the same time he does, he is internally happy. Still, he forces you to go back to bed, because he thinks he was the one to wake you up on accident.

Overall, living with Rin is comforting. He wants what's best for you, and he really likes your company. He's glad he moved out, and he's glad you're with him. He doesn't say it often, but he's grateful to have met someone as wonderful as you.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #itoshi rin x y/n #rin itoshi x you #bllk x y/n #bllk headcanons

[imrllytootiredforthis]

yandere chan

summary: once again, basically sub yandere chan x dom reader hcs

a/n: there is many stalkerish topics and toxic behaviours in this (so read at your own risk), there is also mentions that could be read as a strap or the real thing-whichever you prefer

i do not condone this sort of behaviour, this is purely for amusement purposes and should not be done in real life nor' should be normalized

Did you notice Chan from the very beginning?

probably, yeah.

he made himself very apparent as the shy, cute, guy in a few of your classes. the boy next door typa vibes

you were friends with a bunch of his friends, he was friends with a bunch of your friends, so you knew of him though you never really hung out with him in any type of one-on-one kind of situation

was he completely gorgeous and so very adorable and look so entirely fuckable?

yeah. yeah he did.

but that was just it, you wanted to approach him, ask him out, bring him home at the end of the night

but he seemed too...innocent, too naive, too virgin-y

the golden boy

and you didn't want to corrupt that

you didn't realize how completely wrong you were until later on

completely unaware of the fact that he's had your entire schedule memorized from the get-go

that the reason anyone you've talked to never called you back and avoided you if you saw them again was because of Chan

he isn't the type to ask you out, babyboy's too shy and self-conscious for that,

instead he'll stalk and watch and hope that you'll get the clue soon enough

as he waits he'll probably steal your things, little trinkets, clothing like hoodies and shirts, perhaps some underwear if he's feeling extra confident

but he always feels really bad when he takes those

he has photos upon photos in his camera roll of you. enough to make a folder labelled just your name

most of them are not even remotely sexual,

some of you laughing with your friends-stolen from your friends's instagram account, from your instagram account

some of you smiling widely with your classmates

some that have been group pictures that his friends have sent to him

some of them he's taken himself, secretly snapping a few when you're not aware

he has so many, his own personal collection of just you and as gross as he feels when he does it-he'll look at them and get off

he can't touch himself, never does. he feels too dirty to do that, feels dirty and guilty about the entire situation altogether

but sees you and he just can't help himself

can't help but imagine how good you'd look standing over him, telling him what to do.

making him hump your leg

it so humiliating, so revealing and degrading as you look down at him unimpressed, the disappointment in your eyes making him whimper

you'd pet him too, pushing his hair back

"such a dirty dog; getting off on my leg like you're in heat, you poor thing~"

you'd tease him and make fun of him, bully him until he cums, melting against your leg out of breath

a mess all over your leg

you'd click your tongue at him, rolling your eyes before forcing his head down to lick up his mess

the fantasy gets so intense sometimes he feels like it's really happening

he's so hard and needy, body aching to be touched but too guilty to do it

so his go-to is humping his pillows or his bed. your clothes a victim with either his face buried into the fabric, smelling your perfume or your cologne or your natural scent

or he fucks into the clothing, obsessing over the thought of you catching him in the act

his face flushed, guilt stewing in his gut, eyes locked on yours. even if they're only through the screen of his phone

he begs and begs and begs to the phantom of you, his lust-addled brain conjuring up images, fake realities that aren't real to feed into his delusions that he could be yours.

it's only when you go on a date with someone that he decides he needed to do something

a guy from your class. decently handsome and looked kind of like Chan when you squinted slightly

it would all look the same, really, in the dark of your room as you made him moan under your hands.

the date goes well. but maybe that's because he has an aussie accent and when you look just beside his ear you can pretend it's someone else

you end the night a good note too, kissing him on the cheek and making him promise that you'll go out again sometime

Channie does not like that

he's been watching all night, hatred boiling in his gut, glaring hole into the guy's head, wishing that he'd drop down dead in the middle of the restaurant

he threatens him as soon as you're inside, telling him that he needs to leave you alone or else

spoiler alert: it doesn't work and you go out with him again

and again

Chan doesn't like that. not one bit.

you get upset when you're stood up by him for the first time after only three dates, checking your phone every few seconds as you sit in your apartment, waiting for him to pick you up

he never does

you call him and text him but he doesn't reply

awhile later you see that he blocked you on everything

he never does talk to you again and you wonder why

for the rest of the night you sulk, heading to a nearby bar, having a few drinks until someone taps you on the shoulder

turning around to find Chan smiling sheepishly

asking if you need some company for the night

you accept, eagerly ordering a few more so that he can catch up to you

which ends up with him getting extremely drunk

turns out he has a very low alcohol tolerance. it also turns out that he becomes extremely horny when he's drunk

extremely drunk, extremely horny and extremely happy

because it's the night Chan finally gets what he's been wanting for such a long time.

panting and clutching at your shoulders in the dark corner of the bar, sloppily making out with you

whimpering about how he's dreamed about this for years, muttering between kisses how he can't believe this is happening

opening his legs for you in such a public place-you briefly wonder if you were wrong about him being innocent all this time

until he tells you that he is a virgin, not that he hasn't had offers, it's just that he wanted to save it for you

he wanted you and only you to take his innocence,

to hell if it's in a dirty pub right next to the toilets, if there are eyes watching him-watching you, that you're as drunk as he is and still sad about being ghosted

it needs to be now

he cries with every thrust of you inside of him, his walls clenching making it harder for you

every little touch feels like it's overloading his senses, making his head feel fuzzy and the room feel spinny

and while it might be the alcohol that's causing it, it also might be the need he's had ever since the first time he saw you

the want and the desperation and the high he feels after everything he's done, it's finally happening

he whispers a lot of things to you that night

things that scare you, things that turn you on, things that make you angry at him and things that make you wanna ruin him even more

he confesses every one of his dirty secrets to you

he asks you then if you could still love him after all this, if you would still want him

and to his surprise, you don't get that angry, you do however, expect him to make up for his...wrongdoings

babyboy spends months at your beck and call, doing whatever you please whenever you please

trying to prove himself to you, that after all he's done he deserves to be with you

making him doing humiliating things like wearing a vibrator to your date

fiddling with the controls as he squirms in his seat, trying to hold it in long enough to order his meal albeit stuttering and tripping over his words the whole time

having him wear lingerie under his clothes when he goes out to hang with his friends, the lace hugging his body tight-a remanent of you even if you're not there

and even though you don't ask him to he shows up at your apartment every morning, with flowers or gifts or a compliment ready on his lips, offering to drive you wherever you need

sends you texts throughout the day, informing you of every little thing with an adorable kind of elation

you'd forgiven him long ago, if you'd ever even been mad at him to begin with,

it was just cute watching him stumble around trying to fulfill your every wish

though that still doesn't change when you finally make things official

he probably cries when you ask him to be your boyfriend, he just can't help it, he loves you so, so, so much

Even if his definition of love being a tad overbearing,

he definitely changes a bit when you're actually dating

a little bit more possessive, a little bit more clingy mixed in with a dash of paranoia whenever you’re around someone else that isn’t him

a lot of his shyness goes away when he's with you, ready to do whatever it takes to have your attention on him, willing to do anything that you tell him to

focusing on the former:

He really just can’t help but imagine how you’d look with them

You wouldn’t be happier with them, would you?

No, you love him, you love HIM

not them, not your coworker or best friend, not any one of his band mates or some random person you met at a social gathering

It’s Chan that you love

He’ll stay quiet sometimes, he knows that you need people in your life other than him. he knows that he can’t satisfy every one of your needs that all of these other people do

But that doesn’t make him stop wishing that he could

he tolerates most people (mostly because of your scoldings and punishments when he hasn't) but he still can't help the rage that comes when he sees someone actively trying to get into your pants-ESPECIALLY if they KNOW you're with Chan

of which he will 'encourage' them to leave you alone later on

though he'd really rather not have to do that. it gets kind of messy and you always get angry with him afterwards

so it's good that he's okay with most people,

it doesn’t stop his possessiveness or clinginess but at least he's not going tooooo overboard

If you’re shorter than him he’ll come up behind you and wrap you in a big bear hug, arms around your waist, face in your neck, peppering kisses all over your skin

If you’re taller than him he’ll have no problem pushing himself into your arms, 

coming up in front of you and hugging you, taking your arms and throwing them other his shoulders

“Pay attention to meeee~”

face still in your neck, kisses still all over your skin,

No shits given for pda or how the person you were talking to beforehand is reacting at him cutting off the conversation,

and if you happen to giggle or laugh at his antics his heart will skip a beat, face growing warm with the sound, encouraged once again, to do it the next time this happens

There is very little that will dissuade him even if you don't like it

if you don’t like it he won’t pick up subtle cues or discomfort, 

or more like he’ll PRETEND that he doesn’t get them

You’ll have to be straight up and tell him if you really want him to stop

He’ll give you the saddest, most hurt puppy dog eyes but will reluctantly listen to your wishes

he can never bring himself to do something that will hurt you or make you upset in any way

Afterwards when you get home is where that jealousy comes pouring out

jumping you the second you’re in the door,

the only time babyboy will ever purposely brat out, he’ll welcome any punishment you give as long as it’s you paying attention to him

Not anyone else

Would actually die if you ignored him

That’s out of the question for punishments,

he could never take you pleasuring yourself while he’s tied up across the room, 

he would probably cry and not in the way that either of you like

he doesn’t care how hard you hit, how mean you are, how torturous your punishments are,

ignoring him is a no-no

And bringing someone else into any part of your relationship is too

Sexual or otherwise

The thought of someone else touching your skin, making you moan in the way he does, also makes him want to die.

End of story

If you try to bring it up at all he’d probably just ignore you, give you silent treatment until you apologize 

And then make you PROMISE-PROMISE, PROMISE, PROMISE that it’ll never happen

That he’s the only one you’ll ever be with

Again, sexual or otherwise

but he wouldn't be against it if you were to say, fuck him in front of someone he was jealous of

having the other person watch as you praise him, giving him a slow handjob

his head going into overdrive as he makes pretty noises, all with the knowledge that this person would never get to be in his position, only a watcher to what Chan gets and they don't

He loves you so much and loves the way you make him feel

he gets quickly obsessed with that sense of freedom that you can give him

He’s stressed and overworked, locking himself in his studio for who knows how long, 

starving himself for who knows how long

At the end of a long week he’s all pent up and tired, barely able to stand up on his own two feet and make complete sentences

Much less take control during sex

And more often than not when he comes home after said long week he’s in subspace the second he hears your voice,

quite literally from the second he steps inside the door he just feels himself slipping, overtaking his head with every step he takes, pushing himself deeper and deeper

He just wants to curl up in your arms and let you take care of him, force his mind somewhere else

jerk him off and call him puppy, anything you want, anything at all

He absolutely loves to be called puppy or babyboy, he really doesn’t know which one more because either will have the same effect

Mostly it’ll be paired with him calling you mommy or daddy

he's not big on master or mistress, ma'm or sir just because they don't have the same amount of comfort mommy or daddy has

It makes him feel safe and warm and cared for 

Even if you are edging him for the sixth time tonight with no reprieve in sight 

He’s a bit of a pillow princess but that’s okay because he looks so pretty just laying there and taking whatever you give him

He loves the control you take from him, forcing the decisions out of his hands, your rules becoming the only thing he cares about,

that floaty feeling in his head when you strip him of all of his responsibilities and anxieties

Your comforting hand and sweet praises,

the knowing that he can fall into it and leave the overwhelming reality of his world with you right there to take care of him

He no doubt uses his submission, subspace and sex as a whole really as coping mechanism for when everything becomes too much

Which is unfortunately more often than not, can make things overwhelming for both parties

It’s not very healthy but he thinks that it’s mostly him that’s being affected in a negative way 

He doesn’t account for exactly how much of a toll it can be on you as well 

He probably won’t notice either until you outright tell him, sit him down and give it pointblank

He feels horrible when and if you finally do though

But he is a bit selfish

So I doubt many serious changes will be made, if any at all

If things do change, don’t expect them to stay that way long, slowly enough that you might not even realize it everything will fall right back into the place it was before

he does give really good aftercare though, wrapping his arms around you, ignoring how tired he is to ask if you need anything

even if he's practically braindead, his legs still shaking he's trying to clean you up, trying to wave you off with weak hands

he gets really sleepy but doesn't like to actually sleep, instead he likes to lazily talk to you, words slurred, voice low and heavy

about anything, everything

most of the reason he doesn't want to sleep is because he never wants this moment to end

him in your arms, his head on your chest, your lips leaving soft kisses all over his forehead and hairline

telling him you love him

he swears his heart will burst out of his chest

this is all he's ever wanted

all he's ever dreamed of

to be with you

a/n: okay after this one i'm going to do lixie and then maybe hyunjin...? i'm not fully sure yet after felix's but yeah, hope you enjoyed!

--if you get tagged, or see this again that's because this is a repost because it got put under the community label before even a full day was up

taglist is open now here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @shincode, @lemonhongjoong, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteerr, @arlojulien-nightchild-of-hades, @hahagay, @lino-jagiyaa, @missrobyn81

#dom reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #sub stray kids #stray kids #chan x reader #yandere chan #chan smut #bang chan #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #sub bang chan #dom!reader #sub yandere

[sgiandubh]

So in other words, you agree, Sam and Cait are not very good actors as exemplified by the scene being them and not Beauchamp and Fraser. On that, agreed. She might be a C actor, he's definitely a D

Dear Beauchamp and Fraser Anon,

I suspect you might be a returning one, by the way, hoping to catch me unprepared with a very cheap sophism. Check this concept on Wikipedia if you wish, but I will give you my definition: manipulated or derailed logic, i.e. formally sustainable, but in reality just a fallacy; or, if you prefer, a bunch of crap, just for the sake of it. Also, it would be wise not to try these cheap tricks on someone trained to work with words and doing so every single day: you might find no satisfaction, ultimately.

Fun fact: I don't agree with any single word you just wrote. Sam and Cait are very good and gifted actors. Both of them. They did wonders with a very inconsistent script and under barbaric public pressure. What dragged you in here, Anon? Mrs. Gabaldon's florid, even luxuriant prose? What kept you in here, Anon? Blood and sperm and rape galore? I should wish you were honest, at least for once in your life, and let your answer be 'not really'.

What I meant by that phrase was something very simple: the actors' life experience deeply informing and sublimating their performance. If you think real and creative lives are strictly separate affairs in any intellectual endeavor, then you are probably completely unfamiliar with anything remotely related to writing, singing, playing (an instrument), acting, composing or painting. All these are akin to magic and all of the above are a summoning of sorts: ask any 'content creator', you will probably get a very similar answer. In Cait and Sam's case, their real life story nurtures and elevates their acting, despite people like you.

I am not an actor myself, but a long time ago it was acting that liberated me and taught me to not be afraid of anything. I did not make a living out of it, but I will always have the tools making me able to access that very special energy, any time I should need it. So, I can only offer you an educated opinion of These Two:

C is a very, very good actress. She is classy, sophisticated and knows instinctively how to occupy a stage or a set. She worked and progressed a LOT since Season 1, when it took me a good while to warm up to her. Add to this what I think is arresting beauty. Not really a C-level, in my book.

S is a wonderfully gifted actor who, unlike C, does not have any idea of this potential and, to be honest, gives the impression to even not care about it. He singlehandedly dominated some of the most difficult moments of the series (that unwatchable Wentworth episode comes to mind). His mastery of the Stanislavski and Lecoq methods and techniques is excellent. He is likeable, personable and has an innate emotional intelligence, helping him navigate and compensate the weaknesses of (yes, I insist!) an often insufficient script. I have already written about it, with arguments, when I found some very interesting parallels between The Fiery Cross episode and Laurence Olivier's performance in Shakespeare's Henry V. I will say it again: this guy has been grossly miscast, spare for JAMMF.

Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the whole preparation and rehearsal process when producing a movie or a series or a theatre show. These people don't just learn their lines by heart and turn up for readings and rehearsals. They also read and watch a lot of things that could help them build better, more credible characters. But what makes the sometimes very subtle difference between a decent performance and a stellar one is the amount of themselves they allow inside their acting. And in this respect, I think Sam and Cait have been very lucky, in what is a very clear case of Art (instinctively) imitating Life.

I doubt this answered your question and to be honest, I don't care.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

[tmntxthings]

Hi! This is my first time requesting something sorry if any of this sounds weird rjxhdvdhahsuwj

I really liked your donnie fic 'Practice' can I request a leo version please? 👀👉👈

Exercise :3

author’s note: :D your first time requesting and it’s to meeee?! I’m flattered and you sounded totally perfect, here you go dear anon~ hope you enjoy

warnings: established relationship, fluff, cursing, make out session, unedited (it’s rllly late like 1:30 am late, pls forgive grammar mistakes)

> donnie’s < > raph’s < > mikey’s <

————————————————————————

‘ So are you down? ‘ -Leon 💙

‘ I don’t know… ‘ -Y/n ✨

‘ Scared of a little exercising?? C’monnn pleaseeee, I promise the lair will be empty, just us ;) ‘ -Leon 💙

‘ you’re such a dork! exercising?! lolllll ‘ -Y/n ✨

‘ yeah, exercising our lips ;333 ‘ -Leon 💙

‘ …im coming, can’t we just say kissing? ‘ -Y/n ✨

‘ NO, it’s exercising, and that’s final! kissing is for losers ‘ -Leon 💙

‘ Hello???? Are u on ur way?? ‘ -Leon 💙

‘ :( Y/nnnnnnn answerrrrr meeeeeee ‘ Leon 💙

Leo huffed as he let his phone rest on his upper plastron. You did say you were coming so maybe you were already on your way? Though he could’ve just portaled you here, that would’ve been way faster, and he wouldn’t be in his head with worry right now. He licked his lips, and then rolled out of bed. The rest of his family was out at a comic con he opted out of going, he had this idea in his head for a while now. The next time his brothers had plans he was going to invite you over, and well… kiss you. A lot.

The two of you hadn’t really gotten to do so lately. Every moment ruined by one of his brothers suddenly appearing right as he worked up the nerve to lean in close to you. He groaned to himself as he remembered. Leo walked pass the projector room, seeing that even Splinter was probably tucked away in his room. Perfect! Maybe he could set the mood, put on a movie for it to be a bit more natural than just dragging you to his room. Yeah, that didn’t seem obvious. Even though he had already told you exactly what he wanted to do, he still didn’t want it to be forced.

He was scrolling through the movie selections on Netflix when he heard you approaching. You liked the play music on your phone as you descended the long ladder that led to the sewers, listening to the sound echo off the walls. Leo scrambled up from his Pops recliner. Rushing to greet you. You were looking down at your phone as you entered the lair, turning off the music. “Ahem!” Leo cleared his throat for your attention. (He did that because you told him many times before that he was too quiet when entering a room! Often scaring the daylights out of you since he was so silent.) You looked up immediately giving him a bright smile.

“Hey,” you said softly and he quickly scooped you up into his arms. Giving you a twirling hug before placing you back on your feet, whispering back a “Hi” in your ear. “So, we exercising or what?” You waggled your brows at him and he snickered, liking how eager you were. “Duh, though I thought maybe a movie-“ Leo was cut off by the sound of your laughter as you shook your head. “Chickening out already?” You teased and he felt his cheeks burn. “What? No! I just thought it would be.. I don’t know!” He spoke quickly and grabbed your hand, dragging you along to the projector room, grumbling about how he should’ve just carried you to his room.

“Alright alright, no need to wallow, what movie were you thinking of!” You squeezed his hand, as he finally let go to grab the remote again. Scrolling faster now to hurriedly just find something decent and chuck the remote away. The screen was moving so fast that you were giggling again, thinking his sudden enthusiasm very cute. “You laughing at me?” He asked, raising a brow bone. “You’re just too cute,” you said jokingly. “I’ll show you cute!” Leo grumbled, giving up on finding a good one and just selecting whatever the remote was hovering over. “Really?! A animal documentary??” You exasperated, paying more attention to the choice you thought he had made and not at the devious look in his eyes.

“It’s informational! And maybe it’ll give you a few tips on turtles,” he winked. But you missed it completely, trying to point out that this show was obviously titled, “Meerkats in the Wild,” and how it couldn’t possibly be about turtles or any other animal for that matter! Leo took advantage of this distraction to sidle up right next to you. One hand stroking your arm for your attention. You looked over, and your eyes widened as he quickly darted forward pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. You blinked as he leaned back, looking up at the tv screen like he hadn’t just kissed you. A smirking smile gracing his face as he felt your stare. Two could play at that game. You moved your knees underneath you, sitting on them to give you a little more height that would allow you to press a kiss on the side of his head, on his bandana specifically. It was feather light, and as he turned his face at the feeling, you pressed another kiss on him, this time on his forehead. “Mmm,” he muttered lowly, calling attention to his pursed lips that were awaiting the same treatment.

Your hands went up, cupping his cheeks as you couldn’t help your smile, thinking to yourself, adorable, as you did exactly what he wanted. But it was the same soft touch. Barely a touch at all and it had Leo groaning, “Such a tease.” You giggled, “wanna show me how it’s done then?” You were challenging him, goading him. And it totally worked as he bit down on his lower lip, thinking of how much he wanted to show you exactly. But he blew out a breath and grinned, “now remember you asked for it baby.” His hands came up to where you were still holding his face, pulling them down and placing them on his shoulders. He wasted no time in grabbing your hips next, wanting you closer, as he pulled you into his lap. You squealed at the sudden change, of course he was going to make the most out of your challenge.

His lips came crashing down on yours once he had you right where he wanted you. A hand grazing up your back and going into your soft hair. He was like a whirlwind, doing too much all at once and overwhelming all of your senses. His other hand held your hip, keeping you steady, his teeth occasionally nipping at your lips, but mainly he was kissing you like his life depended on it. That was Leo for you, when it came to a challenge that he wanted to win, he’d do anything. And he was doing a lot. You tapped his shoulders, trying to pull back for air but his hand in your hair kept you from moving backwards. You gasped in his mouth, as he finally drew back a couple of centimeters. “Breathless already?” He teased, kissing your cheeks as you continue to breath in sweet oxygen. “Who’s the tease now,” you retorted and he chuckled against your skin, moving his lips lower to your neck and pressing a firm kiss to where your heart beat fluttered.

“Nervous love?” He questioned as his face came back up, looking into your eyes, his own dancing with amusement. He definitely thought he won. Your eyes narrowed, not one to back down either, and he was excited at the prospects of what you would do. He leaned back, shell hitting the back of the couch. “No no, just had to catch my breath is all,” you clarified. The smile he gave you, so utterly handsome, should’ve been illegal. You couldn’t wait to wipe that smug smile off of his lips, you much rather it when he was the one flustered. So with that in mind, one hand left his shoulder, your index finger slowly tracing the lines of his upper plastron. Your eyes never left his, and you could tell he was already trying to keep still. To not twitch underneath you and show how much you affected him just by that touch alone.

When suddenly, loud laughter could be heard from the entrance of the lair and you all but flung yourself to the other side of the couch at the sudden intrusion. “You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Leo growled as Mikey ran into the projector room just seconds later. “Leo Leo Leo!!!” He sang happily not seeing the way one of the blue turtle’s eyes twitched. “Yeah Mikey?” He sighed, and ‘oomphed’ as his little brother dove onto him, then shoved a dvd in his face. “Guess who got another limited edition movie to add to the collection!!! It’s Jupiter Jim!!” He squeaked happily! Leo plastered on a fake smile, “oh wow!” He said trying to appease his little brother while stuffing down his feelings of disappointment. His mind was anywhere but Jupiter Jim movies. No he was replaying the way your eyes shifted into one of seduction as you became more than confident in his lap. His eyes met yours, his irises crackling with desire, he wanted those lips again.

You just winked at him and then turned back to Raph and Donnie who were explaining in great detail about the things they bought at comic con. Leo held back a groan. As Mikey declared they all had to watch the new movie right now. His plan to escape with you into his room, thoroughly thwarted. He wanted to throw a temper tantrum. There was no way his brothers hadn’t done this on purpose. They always seemed to interrupt at the best parts! Just when things were getting interesting. Needless to say, Leo sulked the entire movie. Only putting a smile on his face when Mikey would turn looking for his older brother’s reaction to the movie. Leo couldn’t say he paid much attention to it either. Though he would steal glances at you. Of course, Raph had sat between the two of you. They totally did it on purpose, Leo surmised. Bunch of exercise blockers, that’s what they were!

Halfway through the movie, Leo leaned all the way back into the couch cushions. Hoping he would just get swallowed up at this point. When his eyes turned your way, he hadn’t been expecting you to already be staring at him. His green cheeks turned a shade darker. It didn’t help that you were biting your own lip, Pizza Supreme in the sky, you were such a tease! And then he suddenly understood. You were doing this purposefully! And when it clicked, it must’ve been written all over his face because your lips broke out into a mischievous smile. His eyes narrowed playfully, oh just you wait! One of these days the lair will be empty for more than 30 minutes (they were definitely gone for more than that Leo!) and I’ll show you who’s the real tease around here!

#rise leo x reader #leonardo hamato #leo x reader #rise leonardo #leo x y/n #leonardo x reader #tmnt fandom #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #turtle bros #leonardo #tmnt leo #rise leo #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt fluff #tmnt fluff #rottmnt leo #rottmnt oneshot #rise tmnt oneshot #tmnt oneshot #leonardo hamato x reader #rise turtles #save rottmnt #rise fanfic #tmnt fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #rottmnt x reader

[hunterwritings]

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 | 𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐮𝐞𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐨

request: "Hello, can you write headcannons on the reader taking the Lin Kuei trio to the movies as a date?" warnings: none | notes: maybe a bit ooc? also was very tired while writing this so maybe some writing mistakes

→ 𝐁𝐢-𝐡𝐚𝐧

Bi-han is most certainly not a movie guy.

I believe he would lean towards more 'traditional' dates, like going out to dinner or late night walks.

Being the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, he wouldn't have a whole lot of time for dates. He might also think they are a waste of time most of the time, he thinks there are better ways to show his love for you. But the few times he will initiate dates, he wants it to be somewhere remote, where it is only the two of you. Bi-han has a hard time showing his emotions, and an even harder time saying them, so he prefers to be alone with you to fully express his love.

When you give the idea of going to the movies with him, he is initially against it. He doesn't have a whole lot of movies or films that he is fond of, mostly because he thinks that it is useless fiction.

You are finally able to convince him tag along with you, convincing him that the movie you are going to see would have many fight scenes and said that the two of you could critique them together. You knew that was something you could draw him in with.

You planned a day you knew there wouldn't be many people in the theater so Bi-han wouldn't feel the need to be anxious or tense. You got decent seats in the middle of the theater.

He kept his rough hand over your own the entire time, squeezing it tightly. It was almost a security blanket for him, knowing that you were here and weren't leaving.

He paid close attention to the movie, actually getting quite interested, looking down at you a couple times with your head leaning on his chest.

Once you leave, Bi-han would be talking about the movie on the walk home, criticizing how the characters acted and none of the fight scenes would actually play out that way. Even though he was critiquing it, you knew he actually payed attention and wanted to express his thoughts with you.

→ 𝐊𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠

Kuai Liang thinks that movies are such a fun experience

He loves watching action-comedies with you. He also just loves the idea of being comfy and relaxing with you. Anything that involved him and you just being able to enjoy each other's presence was something he absolutely fawned over.

You told him you had this idea to go see a new adventure style comedy movie and he was filled with excitement. He will stand at the concession stand for a while until he knew that the two of you had everything you needed before watching the movie.

Always on time, usually even early so he can get snacks before the movie starts. He wants to make sure everything is perfect for you so that you can relax and be the most comfortable. Kuai Liang is always going to go out of his way to do the absolute best for you, no matter what it is. You are a god/goddess to him and he would worship you any chance he gets.

Gets really into the movie and the plot line. If you really enjoyed the movie as he did, you two will talk for hours on different parts you enjoyed and how you hope there will be another one.

On your walk home, he will tightly hold your hand while thanking you multiple times for being able to bring him along to the movies and saying how he will never get tired of going out with you. Kuai Liang will pour his heart out to you over and over again until he is drowning you in kisses from the top of your head to your collarbone.

→ 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬

This man adores movies with you.

To be fair, Tomas adores doing almost anything with you. Any sort of outing with just the two of you makes him so happy, as if he couldn't ask for anything else.

Will watch any type of movie with you: comedy, romance, action, horror, etc.

would 100% watch Johnny Cage movies

Once you asked him to go the movies with you, his face lit up and he immediately accepted.

Will plan the entire day around you going to the movies. He will plan a lunch/dinner to go out with you before going to the movies and then would buy a handful of sweets for both you and himself from the movies concession stand. Once the movie would start, Tomas would be leaning down to your ear to comment on anything interesting he'd see in the movie or something he would laugh at with you.

Would have his arm slung around you, either around your shoulders or draped across your waist so that he could hold onto you while he looked up at the movie screen. He'd be smiling and smirking at you every couple of minutes and leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head.

Wants to go see every new movie with you and will buy tickets early to secure seats for new and upcoming movies.

#— hunterwritings #hunterwritings #mortal kombat #mk1 #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #lin kuei #lin kuei x reader #bihan #bihan mk1 #bihan x reader #kuai liang #kuai liang mk1 #kuai liang x reader #tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada mk1 #subzero x reader #scorpion x reader #smoke x reader

[kaleldobrev]

Shiny New Toy (3)

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Virgin!Reader

Summary: Dean finally fills you up just like he promised

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (15x), Smut (Fingering, P in V), Unprotected sex (Remember to wrap it up kiddos!), Creampie, Non-Con (If you squint)

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy part 3 of my Demon!Dean smut mini-series! | I think there's probably going to be just one more part | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Shiny New Toy Masterlist

“Dean…” Your voice was barely a whisper. It was so inaudible, that you weren’t even sure if you had even said his name out loud or not.

“Y/N…” His tone had almost matched yours, as if he was making fun of you for the way you had just said his name.

“Please…” Your voice slightly louder than before, but still very much low in tone.

“Please what baby?” He asked, his volume still matching yours. He reached out and started caressing your cheek with this thumb; the action making you shudder.

“I…” Your chest was tight, and there was a giant knot in your stomach. You were struggling; your thoughts and emotions scattered. The man in front of you was a complete stranger to you, despite having the face of one of your best friends, someone that you had fallen in love with. The Dean that you once knew was gone; there wasn’t a hint of him anywhere. In all other circumstances, you would have wanted Dean to have sex with you. Losing your virginity to Dean was something that you often thought about; even almost taking him up on his offer to take your virginity. At least it would have been with someone that you trusted.

“You have to use your words Sweetness.” He said, tilting your chin up just a bit, smirking.

“Go slow…Please.” Your voice slightly begging.

“Aw baby,” he began, sounding almost amused by your plea. “You’re honestly adorable.” He smirked. “Did you forget what I told you before?” He asked. You shook your head. “And what was that?”

“This…this isn’t about me.” You whispered.

He raised a brow. “I’m sorry, what was that?” He leaned in close, almost mockingly.

“This isn’t about me.” Your voice sounding just a little bit more stern, surer of your answer.

“Very good.” He patted the top of your head as if you were some kind of child being praised.

“Dean, if there is any part of you in there that still has…some kind of feelings for me…at all…” As much as you had wanted to finish what you were about to say, you knew there was no point; he wasn’t going to listen to you, not in the current state that he was in.

“Old me had feelings for you.” He admitted. “Old me was, God I hate to say it but, he was in love with you.” Dean being in love with you was something that really hadn't crossed your mind. Since meeting him, you were always under the assumption that he loved you in the way of a little sister or as a friend, nowhere near that of a romantic interest. When you had first met him, you thought that there may of been something there, but as soon as you said your age, his face dropped, and you thought that was that - he no longer had interest in pursuing anything romantic with you. "Sweetheart, were you even paying attention to anything that I was doing when I was human? I mean, think about it. I know you're not stupid baby."

Of course you had caught Dean staring at you hundreds of times, but you never contributed them to anything remotely romantic. "All those times I stared at your ass..." his hand started moving down your body, stopping on your ass, giving it a small slap. You let out a tiny yelp like noise, not expecting him to do what he just did. "All those times I stared at these..." his hands started to remove your arms from your chest, the one thing that you had felt kept you remotely decent. "Honestly Sweetheart, really surprised you never caught me. Sammy even had to snap me out of staring a few times." He chuckled to himself. Fuck, even Sammy knew. You thought.

"You know Sweetheart, you really should have taken me up on my offer." He said. "I would have taken such good care of you. Gone nice and slow...made it all about you..." He started to circle around you, examining you like you were some kind of toy. "I would have been such a gentlemen too and would have even cuddled with you afterwards."

"Now's a crappy time to tell me that you loved me." You said, a slight attitude in your voice. "Why didn't you tell me? I genuinely thought you had no interest considering...my age..." You mumbled the last couple of words, but you were curious, curious as to why he never said anything to you. He had so many opportunities to you and yet, now was the time he decided to let you know.

"I'm not really in the mood for a therapy session Sweetheart." He said, his chest pressed up against your back, his arms wrapped around you. "But you know what I am in the mood for?" He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. You nodded. "Oh." Your nodding intrigued him. "Does my girl want to tell me?" My girl. One of the many nicknames that you loved that he called you - and one of the only ones that he had simply reserved for you. It sounded so vile coming from his mouth now.

"You want to fuck me." You said simply.

"Ding, ding, ding! That's right baby." He grinned. "Want to know how? Or do you want to be surprised?

You knew it was a tricked question: this wasn't about you, his sentence consistently repeating itself in your head. "Can you...can you tell me?"

"No. I want it to be a surprise." He grinned.

You were lying right where you had started: lying with your back on the table. But this time thankfully, you were actually free to move around, well, at least partially. Your legs were dangling off the table, your ass on the very edge - one wrong move and you'd probably fall off. Dean was positioned between your legs; both hands on your thighs holding your legs wide open. If he wasn't what he was, this would have been a sight that you would have loved to see: Dean Winchester standing fully naked in front of you. "What a fucking sight." He said finally. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of this fucking view." He said, looking into your eyes for a brief moment.

He removed his hands from your thighs, after running his hands on them. The feeling of his warm hands felt nice on your gently cool skin. "And I have to say," he began as he took his dick into his hand. "I've been with a lot of women, and I mean a lot," you hated the bragging. You knew that he was a ladies man, but this was something that you didn't particularly want to hear when you were about to lose your virginity to the man that you have been in love with for years. "But your pussy Sweetheart..." you felt the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. "God..." his free hand gripped your hip. "Probably the best I've ever seen."

You wanted to shut your eyes, but that was something that you couldn't for some reason bring yourself to do. You knew your body was tense, and you were pretty sure that Dean noticed. "Sweetheart, no need to be tense. You're going to feel so fucking good, I promise." He said, his eyes flashing that brief black that you hated before turning into the green shade that you loved. "Having sex, fucking," he started to say as he started pressing his cock inside of you. "It's literally the best thing you'll ever experience in your life." He pushed himself deeper inside of you. As he did, you couldn't help but watch as he started to disappear inside of you. You already felt full and he wasn't even completely inside of you yet.

"Fuck." You said, almost throwing your head back.

He chuckled at your response. "I warned you I was big Sweetheart." He smirked. "You're taking me so, so good though." His compliment felt so weird to you. "There we go..." He half mumbled. You hoped he was all the way in now. "Ready baby?" He asked, nut knew he wasn't really asking. You nodded anyway, and that's when his smirk turned almost devilish.

His pace started out slower than you had thought he would have gone, which is something that you were grateful for. You half expected him to be going at a bruising pace as he had perfectly stated that this wasn't about you.

The room was completely silent except for the sounds of grunting (from Dean), moaning (from you) and the aggressive sounds of slapping of skin when he was pumping in and out of you (more like pounding in out of you). Your thoughts were incoherent, both of his hands were on your hips now, grippingly tight - you knew that you'd end up bruising. Despite the fact that the pace was starting to pick up and this was the first time you had anything remotely like this happen to you, the experience was...enjoyable to say the least. The feeling of him pulling almost all the way out before slamming right back into you was a feeling that you thought that you wouldn't particularly enjoy, but it was something that you had found yourself loving. "Dean..." You moaned, involuntarily. His name coming out of your mouth louder than you had expected it to be. Your legs slowly found themselves wrapping around his waist, your arms going above your head.

You didn't need to look at him to know that he was grinning from ear to ear. "Knew you'd enjoy it." He said. "Wish you could see yourself." One of his hands cupped one of your breasts, squeezing gently; this action causing you to let out yet another moan. "So sensitive." Almost a whisper. "How close are you Sweetness?" One of his hands running down your body, a finger hovering over your clit.

"C-close." You stuttered, feeling a slight pressure in the put of your stomach. "Ar-Are you?"

"Aw baby, how considerate of you to ask. Good girl." He said, chuckling slightly.

His movements started becoming sloppy now - he hadn't answered your question from before. "Dean?" You asked, moaning, slightly hushed.

"Yes baby? Are you going to cum?" You could hear the smirk on his lips. You nodded. "Better not fucking cum before me or they'll be consequences." Consequences? You didn't think about that.

"Dean...I'm..." You knew you were close, and you knew that you were going to cum before him; there was no possible way that you could control yourself. "Dean..."

"Don't fucking do it." He warned, his pace getting aggressively sloppier and faster. It amazed you that he was able to stay inside of you properly.

"F-f-fuck." You said, feeling your orgasm overcome you. As you were going through it, Dean continued to fuck you through it; one of his hands pressing down on your stomach while the other kept its bruising grip on your hips.

"That's it doll..." he said, his voice seductive sounding now. As you were riding out your orgasm, you felt him cum inside of you not even a minute later.

"De-fuck..." You trailed off.

Dean pulled out of you, and you were already missing the feeling of his cock inside of you. Your legs were shaking, and you felt as if you couldn't move. You never had that many orgasms before in such a short period of time. He looked at you as you started breathing heavy, your chest moving up and down as you stayed there lying on the table. One of his fingers started tracing your very sensitive and very wet clit. "So fucking beautiful." He said.

"Dean, please..." you begged, unsure if you were asking him to fuck you again or if you were asking him to give you a break. You weren't sure if you were even able to cum again.

"Need me to fuck you again? It's only been less than a minute Sweetheart. Miss my cock that badly?" You could hear the evil smirk on his face. For some reason you nodded. "I'll make a sex addict out of you yet." He dripped his finger slightly into you, and you moaned at the slight contact. You were incredibly sensitive right now.

"Dean..." You mumbled. His finger started slowly going in and out of your folds, spreading the cum around. He pumped his finger inside of you a few times before adding another one. At this point, you didn't care how desperate or needy you looked right now.

"Greedy, greedy." He almost sang, pulling his fingers out of you. You groaned at the loss. "Gotta punish you first doll."

"P-punish me?" You asked, slightly sitting up now.

"Yep." He said, licking his fingers. "You came before Y/N. I said, if you cum before me, there will be consequences. Now, get your sweet, sweet ass from off the table."

"What...What are you going to do?" Your question was innocent enough, but you knew he wasn't going to give you an innocent answer.

"Oh Sweetheart, I'm going to spank you." He replied. "Now, get off the table and get on all fours. I won't ask again."

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @fullbelieverheart @little-x-wolf @angiebangiee @ilikw @spnfamily-j2 @freewastelandstrawberry @jackles010378 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #spn #dean x you #dean x reader #female reader #reader insert

[celtic-crossbow]

Don’t Chase the Dead

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth Era post 11x24

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: You and Daryl find yourselves in a battle for survival after the archer leads you into danger in a attempt to absolve him of his guilt.

Prompt: "Being in love is not a weakness, you know"

A/N: You can find the request from @alldevilsarehere90 here. Finally finished this beast! It really got away from me and I ended up moving all sorts of things around before I was even remotely happy with it. I’m sorry it took so long!

PSA: I think I should let it be known that (if you haven’t noticed) I really like to beat up on our boy. There’s just something about an injured Daryl that I love. Probably won’t veer from that anytime soon.

They were all dead. Every last one of the men that had murdered a young boy from the Commonwealth. Only you and Daryl were left standing. 

Metaphorically speaking. 

You stared at an arrow from the enemy’s quiver, inspecting it before letting it fall to the ground. 

“Ya know—whatcha gotta—do, Y/N.” 

You were already shaking your head before the first word had left Daryl’s bloody lips. The arrowhead in his left thigh was barbed. If you tried to pull it out, it would mercilessly tear through muscle and flesh, doing much more damage and leaving a wound that would bleed freely while requiring more than stitches. The one pull Daryl had given it was enough to put him on his ass. He was right, and that made you feel nauseous. 

“I don’t know if I can.” Your bottom lip quivered. Tears fell unchecked. Your own upper arm ached but the bullet had only managed a decent graze. “What if it hit an artery? What if I make it hit an artery?”

Daryl’s eyes scanned the area around you, always on guard. The man who had shot him had been dealt with quickly, the last of the enemies to have fallen by a bullet you fired. The shots would attract walkers. 

“Do you think you can walk if you lean on me?” You asked. Your voice raised slightly with a hint of hope. “We can get you back to the Commonwealth, to the hospital.”

“Y/N.” The archer was calm, tired. He laid his head back against the wall, looking down his nose at you. “Y’know I—l can’t.”

You cursed under your breath, staring at the protruding wooden shaft. Once again, he was right. Even if you bound the wound to the best of your ability, the likelihood of it shifting and tearing inside was tremendous. “Okay. We have to be fast. We can’t stay here much longer.” You undid your belt and looked around you for a safe place for when things inevitably went south. Pessimism or just simply acknowledging Dixon luck, it didn’t matter. There was a maintenance shed, door open. The probability of walkers inside was slim but not none. It’d do in a pinch though. 

Your flannel shirt would be used as a bandage after, so you peeled it off and tore off the sleeves, biting and pulling at the rest of it to form it into strips. “Can you turn onto your right side just a little?” You asked while wrapping a piece of the fabric around your arm. You used your teeth to aid in tying it off. 

Daryl nodded tiredly and angled himself onto his right hip. He could probably do this himself, honestly, but you were there and had a better view of the injury. Your biggest worry was the wood splintering or snapping, leaving the arrowhead inside. 

Using your knife, you cut the fabric around the point of entry as carefully as possible. It’s still oozing blood but nothing like it will be once the weapon is removed. Chewing on your lip, you go back to cutting, this time at the back of his thigh. Worry is gnawing at you relentlessly, your insides twisting. 

“I could break the shaft, make it easier for you to move. I think we could make it—”

“Gotta break—gotta break it anyway.” To emphasize his point, he leaned forward and wrapped a trembling hand around where the weapon entered his flesh. With what looked like the tiniest bit of effort and a pained grunt, he snapped the arrow and tossed the end somewhere in the darkness. His back thudded against the wall. “Just do it—or I’ll do it an’ ya can—head on back. I‘ll catch up.”

“I’m not leaving you! No way!” You snap. Daryl wasn’t thinking clearly. That much was obvious. Either from blood loss, exhaustion, or the guilt eating him up at the loss of that boy. Maybe all of the above. He hadn’t slept since he’d had to put down the reanimated corpse. He was supposed to be with the kid. He had promised to show him how to track and hunt. The archer had been called away to help elsewhere and the kid had angrily left the safety of the community. No one blamed Daryl except Daryl. 

Still, no one could ever make Daryl feel worse than he could himself, and you could do nothing without his compliance. 

“Fine.” You leaned toward him and held out your belt. “Bite down on this.” When he raised an eyebrow behind his curtain of hair, you sighed. “It’s gonna hurt, Daryl. There are probably already walkers and god knows what else headed for us. I’d rather not let them know exactly where we are.” His lip curled in distaste but opened his mouth and let you place the strap between his teeth. That man could be so stupidly stubborn sometimes. 

Your hand hovered over the arrow’s broken shaft. You knew there was no time to waste. You started counting down from three, more for yourself than him, and wrapped your hand around the arrow. Judging by how he remained silent, he knew that. When you hit one, you tightened your grip and pushed. Daryl went rigid, agonized sounds rushing out around the belt held so tightly between his teeth. 

You honestly hadn’t expected so much resistance, quick to conclude you must have been grazing the bone. “I know, I know,” you tried to soothe as you adjusted the angle. Daryl arched off the wall with a muffled shout. The arrow began to move again, soon breaking through the skin on the other side. You released a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as the archer went boneless, the belt falling from his mouth so he could breathe through the pain with heavy pants. “The worst is over.” Flesh dangled from the barbs but it exited rather cleanly, and you were able to grab beneath the tip and pull it free. “Done. It’s out.” 

You’d have to stop and stitch him up once you were both a safe distance away. A piece of flannel was folded into a square and pressed over the back of his leg, quickly soaking through. With a muttered “shit,” you replaced it with another and one more on top of that one before managing to tie what used to be a sleeve around it. Just as you pulled it tight, you heard a branch snap and an all too familiar (yet no less terrifying) snarl. You had to bandage the top wound quickly and get the both of you out. “Hold this here.” You instructed when you pressed a square to the top of his thigh. Daryl didn’t move. “Daryl?” Maintaining pressure, you leaned forward to see his face. He had passed out. “Fuck!” 

Another growl. More shuffling steps. 

You hurried through wrapping the second one and shouldered your pack, leaning forward to urgently tap the archer’s cheek. “Daryl, wake up. Daryl!” He stirred but didn’t open his eyes. “We have to go. Now!” You stood when he still didn’t respond, wiping your bloody hands on your jeans. Looked like you’d be needing that maintenance shed after all. 

You could see them now, the group of undead bodies making their way toward you, their silhouettes barely visible in the moonlight. You gave a frustrated huff and moved up toward the wall, struggling to heave your archer into a sitting position so you could hook your hands under his arms. Daryl was a stout man, all lean muscle under his layers. Dragging him would not be an easy feat. 

“Anytime you wanna wake up and help, that’d be great!” You pulled and pulled, finally managing a few feet before the first walker was just too close. You had no options other than your gun. The shot was fired and the gun holstered just as quickly then you were back to dragging your partner. “If we make it through this, I’m going to kill you!” As if hearing your threat, Daryl groaned. You didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Too many undead were lumbering toward you. “Are you with me?”

“Y/N?” The archer questioned groggily. 

“None other!” You grunted. His good leg kicked out to dislodge a walker from his boot, nearly throwing you off balance. “Welcome back to the land of the…somewhat living.” Some of his weight shifted away as he got his good leg up under him, using your hold under his arms to lever himself upright. “We’ve got to get to the shed. You’re still bleeding and—” 

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. You were pulled back and Daryl went down, unable to take his own weight so suddenly on the injured limb. Two walkers had grabbed hold of your pack, the only thing standing between you and grizzly death. And now there was nothing standing between Daryl and the same fate. You watched helplessly as you struggled against the rotted hands trying to get to your flesh. He had pulled his knife, making it upright to stab one skull before he’d tumble down, catch his breath, and do it again. 

“Y/N!”

With fierce determination, you pulled your own blade from the sheath on your thigh and slid your arms from the straps holding the bag to your back. One walker stumbled with the pack while the other grabbed your arm. You only let it get close enough to drive the knife into its temple. “Daryl!” Three walkers were closing in on him fast. 

“Y/N, get outta here!”

He couldn’t have possibly thought that was going to work. The corpse on your pack grabbed for your ankle but you kicked free and sprinted to Daryl, rounding in front of him to push one threat back and quickly stab it. You turned just in time for a walker’s teeth to close roughly with an audible click about two inches from your face. The shock lasted a mere heartbeat. You stabbed it in the eye and Daryl released his hold on the back of its tattered shirt. The archer tumbled forward gracelessly and you managed to catch him under one arm to keep him standing.

“I told ya to run!” He snapped. 

“The shed! Let’s move!” You ignored him and pulled him along with you. He was barely keeping up, stumbling to keep as much weight off the injured leg as he could manage. 

Walkers were coming from every side. You weren’t sure you’d make it before they reached you. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Two were almost in front of the door. If they cut you off now, even a flawless dispatching would cost your window of opportunity to secure relative safety. 

The arm around Daryl’s waist tightened and you pulled him harder, nearly causing him to lose what little balance he was trying so hard to maintain. 

“Y/N.” He growled in a low, warning tone. 

You discarded the knife and pulled your gun to put a bullet in the forehead of the walker closest to the door. It was a close call but you managed to get you both to the entrance. There was no time for tenderness. You used your momentum to twist your body and practically throw the bowman into the darkness, hearing him crash into something inside that obviously tumbled down when he made contact. You continued the motion, spinning to back into the shed while pulling the door closed. You screamed in frustration when a rotted arm came through the last remaining space and prevented the latch from securing. 

You couldn’t take either hand away from the door, your weight being the only thing keeping the creature out. Within moments, more would join it and you would be overpowered. You released an angry howl and grabbed the handle, opening the door outward only to slam it closed on the decomposing limb. Once, twice. It took stepping forward into danger and throwing yourself nearly off your feet to snap off the arm and allow the door to close. 

There was no lock. You couldn’t see your hand right in front of your face. You couldn’t barricade the door when you couldn’t make out what objects were around you. It would have to wait. Regardless, you flinched when the sound of bodies hitting the outside of the shed rang through the small space. Switching gears in an instant, you replaced one fear with another. Daryl hadn’t made a sound since you had sent him sailing gracelessly into the unknown. 

“Daryl?” You kept your voice at a whisper. Agitating the walkers that had already pegged you as their next meal wouldn’t be smart. You walked with small steps, unable to see where you were going. You didn’t want to fall over something, especially if that something was your partner. There was no sound aside from your quiet footfalls. Frankly, it was unnerving. 

You had felt fear morphing into panic just as a hand wrapped around your ankle. Your first instinct was to kick out but you managed to hear the click of a zippo lighter opening followed by the familiar flicking that would ignite the flame. Daryl was slumped against a utility shelf, surrounded by a mess of jugs, tools, and empty storage bins. 

He looked tired. Sweaty and pale, but mostly just exhausted. You knelt beside him and took the lighter from his hand, sitting it close by on the concrete floor. “You alright?” You asked softly. His skin was clammy beneath your fingers when you stroked his cheek and brushed his hair away from his eyes. Rolling his head toward you, his expression screamed ‘did you really just ask me that?’ and you couldn’t help but wince. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He stared at you for a moment, almost as if he was deciding whether or not you were sincere. One corner of his mouth twitched upward so slightly that you would have missed it had you not been staring at him so intently. He finally grunted with a nod and let his head rest against a lower shelf, closing his eyes. 

Satisfied that your impromptu toss hadn’t caused him any further injuries, you slid the lighter a bit closer so you could take a look at his leg. It wasn’t good. The fabric was soaked through, dark droplets collecting steadily into a small puddle below his leg. Worry gnawed at your gut but you pushed it down in favor of taking action. “I’m gonna get you stitched up and we’ll figure out what to do from here.” He gave you a thumbs up, not bothering to open his eyes. 

You scooped up the lighter and turned to reach for your pack. Only—it wasn’t there. Where had you placed it? When you replayed the past fifteen minutes, you felt your stomach sink. 

You had left it behind. Beneath a walker. 

“Fuck.” You breathed the word out shakily, frozen to your spot on the floor. 

“What?” Daryl rasped from behind you. 

You still wore a frozen expression of horrifying realization when you twisted back to look at him. He raised his head, brow drawn inward, and repeated himself. 

“My pack. I left it out there—when I ran over to help you.” 

To your shock, he simply shrugged. “Don’t matter.” 

You gaped at him. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?! Daryl, you’re bleeding!”

Another shrug. “Ain’t the first time, won’t be the last.”

“Daryl. Seriously.” You leveled him with a glare, but he waved you off and began pulling himself up with the aid of the shelves. “What’re you doing? Sit down!” You were really struggling with keeping quiet. The man had a stubborn streak a mile wide. 

“Can it, woman. M’fine.” He stumbled away from the safety of the shelf and grabbed onto the edge of a small table with a grunt, lips pressed into a thin line. 

You noticed, of course, and folded your arms over your chest. “That hurt, huh?” You deadpanned. He tossed a glare your way and, with a sigh, you approached and held up the lighter to start looking around the shed with him. There wasn’t much beyond some handheld tools, random hoses, containers, nuts, and bolts. There were no windows, no other way to escape. 

Fortunately, Carol knew you two had left and where you were going. She had asked to come along but you had shot her down. If only you had known the numbers you and Daryl would face on your own, not to mention the aftermath. Regardless, Carol would come looking. Eventually.

You both just had to survive until then. 

The likelihood of that was looking bleaker by the moment. Your provisions and medical supplies were outside, amidst about two dozen walkers. Not to mention, Daryl was steadily losing blood, leaving a small trail as he finished scouting the space for anything useful. You began to wonder if you had managed to nick the artery after all. 

“Okay, okay. We just need to think. We’ve made it out of worse situations.” You stood facing him, trying not to think about how fast he was breathing or how the pallor to his skin resembled the undead just outside the door. 

“Ya shoulda run. Told ya to run.” Daryl stated quietly, not looking at you. “Ya know damn well—”

“You know damn well I’d never leave you behind! Not now, not ever!”

“Y/N.” His eyes were shimmering with moisture and you could clearly see the flame reflected there. You gave him a small but genuine smile. You would absolutely give your life for Daryl. You knew he would do the same for you. He almost had more than once. Your eyes followed his hand, calloused fingertips whispering down your jaw. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. If you did die tonight, at least you’d be with the man you loved.

You opened your eyes when his hand fell away, ready to keep showering him with affection. Your smile faltered. He was staring at you, face taut with fear. “Daryl?” Just as you took another step closer, his eyes rolled back and he dropped. You abandoned the lighter in favor of catching him, arms hooking beneath his. You couldn’t hold his sudden weight but you managed to slow his descent. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You ended on your hip with his upper body against your torso and his head tucked under your chin. It was a struggle but you managed to turn and sit against the shelf. He was still pressed tightly against you, and you had no intention of letting go. Your tears flowed freely now, one hand moving constantly: stroking his hair, touching his face, checking his pulse, fisting his vest. 

You flinched violently when the door rattled and you heard shards of debris rain onto the concrete. They would flood into the shed any minute. You pulled Daryl’s second knife from its sheath on his belt. Your gun had been lost in your battle to seal the door. 

Cradling him even tighter, you pressed your face into his temple and sobbed. “I love you. No matter what happens, you have to know that.” 

Moments passed, the pounding on the door became more pronounced as the lighter’s flame began to diminish. You could see moonlight and shadows through the areas of the door that had given way under the assault. You could only watch as the door began to buckle. When it seemed as if they would finally break through, you pressed a kiss to Daryl’s forehead and maneuvered from underneath his body, gently lowering him to the floor. 

You were beyond exhausted. Your own injuries were singing with pain. Still, you would put down as many of the fuckers as humanly possible, ready to die before you’d let a single rotten finger touch him. Knife poised to attack, you shifted from foot to foot, readying yourself. The flame went out. 

“HEY!”

You froze at the very human, very alive shout from outside, your tear-filled eyes wide and unblinking. The pounding on the door lessened before stopping completely. 

“TAKE COVER IN THERE!”

You didn’t hesitate to drop the knife and throw yourself over Daryl just as an explosion sounded from just outside. The small shed trembled fiercely for a matter of seconds before everything went still and quiet. Breathing heavily, you raised your head. The door was hanging by one hinge, ready to collapse. Smoke and dust was filtering in and blocked any view of the scene outside. 

A silhouette began to take shape as it approached. Daryl’s knife was back in your hand within a heartbeat and you crouched in front of the still unconscious man, ready to defend him. Your eyes narrowed. 

“Y/N?”

The knife clattered to the ground. “Carol?” Your voice broke on the second syllable, hope seeping into your chest and making you dizzy. 

The silver-haired woman stepped through the doorway, a large gun in hand. She released the barrel and let the strap take the weight so she could pull a flashlight from her belt. More shadows were scurrying about through the smoke behind her. You shielded your eyes as the light found you, falling back onto your ass with a broken laugh of pure relief. 

“He okay? What happened?”

Carol crossed the distance and sat the gun aside, placing a cool hand on your cheek while she looked you over critically. 

“We’ve had a shitty day.”

Your thumb was tracing circles over the back of Daryl’s hand, your eyes following the movements. It had been roughly 13 hours since the grenade had rattled the small shed and Carol had been your savior, along with some volunteers she had rallied up. They had brought medical supplies but you chose to use what you had in your pack. Daryl was going to be thrilled. 

He had remained unconscious while you stitched his leg and while the volunteers helped get him onto a horse. You didn’t feel safe riding with him draped across the animal’s back and chose to ride behind him on the saddle. He was leaning heavily against you, head lolling side to side on your shoulder, and your back ached by the time you and Carol had arrived home to the Commonwealth. He had been restless in his state, saying your name several times in a voice laced with pain and confusion. Each time, you had answered and the arm you had wrapped around his middle had gently tightened. He never responded. 

The men who had traveled back with you carried Daryl into the hospital and he was whisked away on a stretcher. You didn’t like the idea of not going with him but the nurse had insisted that you needed care as well. You sat quietly while your arm was stitched, mind wandering to what would have happened had Carol not shown up when she did. You shook the thoughts from your mind before a devastating conclusion could form images behind your eyes. 

Carol had stayed for a while before offering promises of bringing some food by later and then heading to her home to sleep, leaving you alone with Daryl. The silence was daunting. 

Glancing up, you watched the drops of antibiotics and fluids drip from the bags hanging on the pole. Tomi had promised Daryl would make a full recovery but insisted he stay for at least two days to ensure there was no infection. You did not want to be the one to break that news to him. 

You narrowed your eyes when you were almost certain you could hear the small droplets hit the collection in the mechanism that fed the medication into Daryl’s IV. God, you were tired. You wanted, in the worst way, to crawl onto the bed with him and sleep for days. Yet, you remained in your chair at his bedside, slouching down to lay your head next to his hand that you were still holding. 

You had no more than closed your eyes when Daryl began to come around with a quiet moan. Standing so quickly caused the room to spin but you didn’t care. The archer’s eyes were closed tightly, brow creased. Tomi would need to give him something for the pain, probably. He’d have to be quick and sneaky, otherwise Daryl would refuse it. He always refused anything that could be used by someone else to better their lives for even a moment, at the expense of his wellbeing. Luckily, you and Carol were around to make sure he somehow managed to stay healthy. He didn’t make it easy for you. The previous night had been proof of that. 

After just a few moments, he relaxed a little and his eyes began to flutter open. You leaned in further so you would be one of the first things he saw and gave his hand a squeeze. His tired gaze settled on your face and his fingers briefly tightened around your hand.

“Welcome back, Dixon.” You smiled while your free hand began to smooth back his hair, soft and gentle sweeps of your palm that you thought for a moment might coax him back to sleep. 

“Hi.” He croaked, expression pinching up in discomfort. A cup of water was at his lips a moment later. Given the position of the bed, he didn’t need to raise his head far to accept a few swallows, but you put your hand behind his neck to support him anyway. When he turned his head away slightly, you placed the cup on the bedside table. Daryl cleared his throat and tried again. “Ya alrigh’?”

You laughed at the ridiculous question. Of course he had nearly bled to death and was worried about you when he woke up. “I’m fine. I’m not the one laid up in the hospital.” It was a joke and he knew it, if the feeble scoff he gave was any indication. 

“How’d we get back?” He still sounded so, so tired but you’d take tired and awake over sitting by his deathly still form any day. 

“Carol.” You didn’t have to say anything else. The man nodded gingerly and closed his eyes. You stayed quiet for several minutes, back to petting his hair. While he was relaxed under your ministrations, he was not sleeping. “Daryl, we need to talk about what happened.” He didn’t open his eyes right away but released a deep sigh. “We should have waited to go after those guys when a group had been designated. Instead, I was chasing you, running off all half-cocked.” You waited and finally his eyes opened. He didn’t look at you, and you knew then that, while he felt bad about it, he was aware you were right. He stared at a point between the wall and the ceiling, stubbornly refusing to engage in the conversation. It was your turn to sigh. “Daryl, why didn’t you wait?” You pressed. The answer was one you knew already, but you needed him to be willing to talk about it. 

“Kid was s’posed ta be with me, Y/N.” He finally said. “Them parents ain’t got their kid no more cause I didn’t protect him.” There was a sadness in his eyes that broke your heart. It was still a wonder to you how that brash, rude redneck you met at the quarry all those years ago transformed into the man in front of you. Still sometimes rude, but with the biggest heart of any man you’d ever known. He had opened himself up and allowed himself to love and to be loved, though it didn’t come without cost. Allowing himself to feel so deeply also made him a slave to more negative feelings. He held onto those tightly and let them punish him, beat him down. 

You leaned over him to press a kiss to his forehead, the action drawing his gaze to yours. “Listen to me, Daryl Dixon.” Your hand gently pressed on the side of his face. “That guilt isn’t yours to carry.” When he opened his mouth, your hand moved to press a finger to his lips. You shook your head. “It’s not. There’s no one to blame here except the kid and those men. He chose to leave the community that day and that was a mistake he was old enough to know better than to make, but it was those men that made the choice to end his life. That’s not on you. Do you hear me?” 

He was mulling it all over, looking away from you. You weren’t naive enough to think that this conversation could change the way he processed emotions, but perhaps over time, with enough love and reminders, he would stop shouldering so much shit alone. 

“Ya still should’a run when I told ya. That’s gonna getcha killed one day.” 

“Why do you do that?” You twisted to sit on the edge of the bed, next to his hip. 

“Do what?” Daryl grimaced, probably from pain, but his expression smoothed out quickly. 

“Act like you shouldn’t be important to me. Like I shouldn’t make you a priority.” You waited for him to look at you. You wanted him to see your sincerity. “Being in love is not a weakness, you know. You’re everything to me, Daryl. You make me want to fight, to survive. If it takes me dying to keep you alive then it’s worth it.”

“S’not.” 

“It is. You are.” When he looked away, you leaned over to cup his cheek and turn his head to face you again. The emotions you saw there made your heart clench. “You are worth it. You will always be worth it, Daryl.”

His Adam's Apple bobbed when he swallowed, eyes looking back and forth between yours. “M’s’posed to watch out for ya.”

You shook your head. “You and me. This. Us. We’re a team. We watch out for each other.” His lip quivered so slightly that you almost missed it but you chose to leave it be. “That’s the deal, Dixon. You’re never getting rid of me.” A tear slid down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you had started to cry. Daryl pulled away the hand you had never released and reached to wipe away the moisture with his thumb before wrapping his fingers around the side of your neck to pull you down. 

It wasn’t your first kiss but like every one before it, it stole your breath. His lips moved against yours softly while he raised his hand from your neck to place it back against your cheek. Too soon, the moment ended and you sniffled away anymore tears while your forehead rested against his. 

“M’okay with that.” He said quietly. “Not gettin’ ridda ya.”

You noticed the hint of a smile when you laughed. “You may change your mind about that when you see the hot pink thread I used to stitch up your thigh.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and pulled you down for another kiss. “Yeah, might want a refund after all.” 

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #injured!daryl dixon #Spotify

[luuuuucyscorner]

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞- 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

Chapter Three. Info: Y/n and Spider's hangout goes differently than expected.

Tags: 18+, SMUT!, oral (fem recieving), drinking games, alcohol, kissing, swearing

word count: 16K

A/n- Can we js pretend the film has the accents, Letterboxd had nothing😭🙏 I am also painfully aware that curisers are not strong. especially Australian ones. I'm also really unhappy with this chapter.

Gif by me

After school, Spider arrives at your house, eagerly knocking on the door. When you open it, he flashes his signature grin. "Hey, Y/n. Ready for our little soiree?" He asks excitedly, stepping inside. He glances around the living room, taking note of the decorations. "Not a bad pad ya got here. Reminds me of home a bit, actually." He chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "So, what's the plan? Movies? Music? Or maybe a game night?" He suggests casually, attempting to gauge your mood. Unable to contain his nerves, he sits down on the couch, occasionally glancing at you.

Y/n sits next to him, "hmm well what are you feeling Spider?" she shifts, pulling her shirt neckline down accidentally,

Spider's eyes are immediately drawn to the glimpse of cleavage, his pulse accelerating. He quickly looks away, trying to maintain his composure. "Well, I reckon it depends on you, Y/n. Whatever you want is fine by me," he replies, struggling to mask the sudden rush of desire. He shifts awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he speaks. "Though...maybe we could start with somethin' simple? Wine and a movie, perhaps?" He suggests, hoping it'd set the mood for the evening. Despite his earlier proposal, seeing your bare skin had changed his priorities somewhat.

"wine? yeah, I'll see what we have. You planning on getting drunk tonight Spider?" you smirk teasingly.

Spider returns your smirk with one of his own. "Depends on how much you've got, mate," he quips, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "But I'm up for a few glasses, yeah. Can't complain about winding down with a beautiful woman and some decent vino." He saunters towards the kitchen, peering into the fridge. "Whatcha got? Red? White? Maybe something in between?" He chucks a bottle onto the counter, examining it critically before popping the cork. "This should do nicely."

Carrying the bottle and two wine glasses, you sit down together on the leather couch.

"what film are you feeling? what does Spencer White get down to?" you tease.

Grinning slyly, Spider replies, "Well, Y/n, I'm into most films. But let's keep things PG-13, shall we? Don't want any awkward moments with your ma comin' home early." He grabs the remote and flips through channels, eventually settling on a romantic comedy. "There we go. Pretty harmless." He sinks into the couch, leaning close enough to brush against your side. "Now, what did ya wanna know about ol' Spence?" He asks teasingly, a devilish glint in his eye.

"I want to know if he actually enjoys crap like this" you motion to the film, a slight laugh in your tone.

"Ah, love," Spider begins, feigning offense. "I may be a rough Aussie bloke, but I appreciate a good rom-com from time to time." He chuckles softly, nudging you playfully with his elbow. "Gotta have some heart-warming stuff in life, right?" He settles back into the couch, draping an arm along the backrest near you. "Wanna snuggle up, or remain professional over here?" He indicates the space next to him, inviting you closer.

"Is that an invite Spider?" you challenge teasingly.

Spider's cheeks flush a bright red, clearly taken aback by your comment. "Uh, yeah, I guess it was," he stammers, stuttering slightly. "I didn't mean anything by it, Leia. Just thought we could watch the movie together, y'know?" He fumbles with his glass of wine, trying to hide his nervousness. "Sorry if I made ya feel uncomfortable, that wasn't my intention." Despite his embarrassment, there was a hint of excitement in his voice. "You decide, though. Want some distance? I'll move over." He offers, ready to adjust accordingly.

"Nah I'm just fucking with you, Handsome" You laugh nonchalantly and shuffle up to him.

Relief washes over Spider's face as he adjusts his position to make room for you. "Alright, love. No need to scare a fella like that," he chuckles, trying to regain his composure. He nestles further into the cushion, allowing you ample space beside him. "Glad we're clear on that front. Never wanna ruin a good time with awkward nonsense." He settles in for the movie, though his thoughts drift elsewhere. Your proximity only fuels his desires, making it difficult to focus on the screen.

the movie ends and the bottle of wine has been drained. "can I put on another film? all good if not!" you ask

"Yeah, go ahead, love," Spider agrees enthusiastically. "Your choice, after all." He relinquishes control of the remote, handing it to you with a nod. "Even if it's a docu about kangaroos, I'll sit through it." He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. As you switch to your preferred selection, he leans in closer, his arm brushing yours gently. "Fancy another drink while we wait for this to start?" He inquires, reaching for the empty wine bottle.

you start scrolling for the film "Sure, there's vodka cruisers if you want something stronger. grab anything!"

"Vodka cruiser, eh?" Spider raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the suggestion. "Never had one of those before. Gimme a sec." He ambles towards the fridge, returning with two cold bottles. Handing you one, he pops the cap off his own. "To a great night, Y/n," he says, clinking it against yours. Taking a swig, he winces slightly at the potency. "Fuck, that packs a punch!" He chuckles, wiping his mouth. "So, whatcha got in store for us?" He inquires, leaning back on the couch expectantly.

"fight club! the one with Brad Pitt! god he's so fine" you say excitedly

Spider's brows furrow as he watches the opening credits, a hint of jealousy creeping into his expression. "Brad Pitt, huh? Bit of a looker, that fella," he mutters under his breath. He takes another sip of his cruiser, attempting to ignore the pang in his chest. "Still, there's only one Spider White, love. Can't replace the original." He tries to laugh it off, but the unease lingered. He settles into the couch, attempting to enjoy the movie despite himself. "Guess I'll just have to outperform him then, hey?" He jests, trying to diffuse his feelings.

"well you're not doing too badly Handsome" you confirm, smiling

His gaze flickers to you, meeting your eyes momentarily. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks, Y/n. Means a lot comin' from you. But don't worry, I ain't here to compete with Hollywood heartthrobs. Just here for a good time." He resumes watching the film, but his mind keeps wandering back to your compliment. A warmth spreads through him, both flattered and uncertain how to handle such praise.

"well how about an Aussie heartthrob like you chooses the next film?" you whisper into his ear flirtily, admittedly a little tipsy.

Startled by your whisper, Spider's heart races. He turns to face you, a mixture of surprise and desire clouding his eyes. "An Aussie heartthrob, huh?" He whispers back seductively, leaning closer. "Well, how 'bout this? I pick the next film, and you gotta do a shot every time someone speaks in an accent other than ours." He grins mischievously, challenging you. "Sound fair, love?" He waits for your agreement before standing up, searching for alternative movies.

"That seems unfair. I'm so in" you whisper, impossibly close to his ear

Smiling triumphantly, Spider nods. "Alright then. Deal's struck." He reaches for the remote, clicking through options. "Let's see...how 'bout The Great Gatsby? Plenty of accents in that one." He selects the movie, turning to face you. "Ready to lose your inhibitions, Love?" He teases, holding out a shot glass filled with vodka. "On your mark..."

"get set..." you continue, staring right into his brown eyes.

As your gazes locked, Spider's pulse quickened. His fingers tremble slightly as he lifts the glass to his lips, downing the shot in one gulp. "Go," he murmurs hoarsely, setting the glass aside. With newfound boldness, he slides an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "Don't forget - every non-Aussie accent equals a shot." He whispers seductively, his tone laden with promise. The heat between you grew palpable.

"and don't forget every non- British accent is a shot too Handsome" you flirt.

Spider chuckles softly, appreciating your challenge. "Alright, love. Every non-Aussie or non-British accent, then." He confirms, adjusting his grip on your waist. "Best keep count, though. Could get messy." The movie starts, and you both down your second shot promptly. DiCaprio's rich American drawl earned a third drink. By the end of the first twenty minutes, you'd already consumed four shots. Spider couldn't help but grin deviously. "Looks like this is gonna be a wild ride."

"you don't say" You bite your lip, drunkenly.

Spider's gaze falls to your lips, his heart pounding. "Mmm, looks like it," he agrees, his voice low and husky. The alcohol heightened his senses, making it impossible to ignore the electric atmosphere. He tilts his head, brushing your hair away from your face tenderly. "Better start hydratin', love," he suggests, offering you water. "Can't have you passin' out on ol' Spence now." His hands shake slightly as he hands you the glass.

"Nah, after the film handsome, I'm British, not a lightweight"

Spider swallows hard, his throat dry from anticipation. "Alright, alright. Fair enough, Y/n." He relaxes slightly, sipping his own drink. "Just remember what we agreed upon." The film unfolds, each foreign accent leading to another round of shots. As the tension mounted, Spider's nerves intensifying. He couldn't shake the desire simmering between you. Yet, he knew better than to push boundaries too far. For now, he'd bide his time and enjoy the ride.

After the film, and over fifteen shots later, Spider was helping gather empty shot glasses and returning bottles to the fridge, his movements careful and considerate. "Well, that was quite the experience," he muses, wiping down the coffee table. "Think I might need a break from all these accents." He gives a soft chuckle, cleaning up remnants of the evening. As he passes you a trash bag, your fingers brushed briefly. "Thanks for havin' me over, Y/n. Had a blast, even if I lost track of those damn shots." He tries to maintain his cockiness, but the warmth in his chest betrays him. "Look forward to our next adventure."

she drops the trash bag and pulls him closer by his wrist. "spence.." she whispers, dunkenly

Spider freezes at your touch, the intimacy overwhelming him. His breath hitches as he looks into your eyes, his resolve wavering. Though he knew better than to cross lines, the temptation proved too much. "Yeah, Love?" He rasps, his heart pounding like a jackhammer. His body leans involuntarily towards yours, curiosity tugging at him. The air crackled with unspoken desire, leaving him suspended in uncertainty.

"you should kiss me" her voice bearly audioble.

For a brief moment, Spider simply stares at you, dumbfounded. Then, his resolve crumbles. Leaning closer, he cupped your face gently. "Fuck it," he breathes, sealing your lips with his. The kiss was passionate yet cautious, laden with untamed emotion. He tasted the vodka on your tongue, feeling your slight resistance melt away under his touch. This unexpected turn left him both exhilarated and terrified, unsure where it would lead. All he knew was that he wanted more.

Spider motions for you to jump and he grabs onto the back of your thighs, carrying you like you weigh nothing. placing you onto the kitchen counter, standing between your spread legs, out of breath

Spider's heart pounds in his ears as he stands between your legs, panting lightly. His eyes lock onto yours, searching for permission. "You sure, Y/n?" He asks quietly, his voice shaking. This sudden shift left him both thrilled and apprehensive. He aches to explore further, yet respect your boundaries. Sweat glistens on his forehead, a testament to his nervous energy. "If you change your mind, let me know." He whispers, uncertainty marring his bravado.

 "shut up Spider, just kiss me" you say, the cold of the kitchen counter pricking your thighs.

Emboldened by your words, Spider silences his doubts with a deep, lingering kiss. Despite his anxiety, he allows himself to indulge in the moment. Gently, he explores your body with his hands, tracing delicate contours beneath your shirt. When you broke the kiss, he hesitates but listens attentively. "Your call, love. Whatever feels right for you," he promises, swallowing hard. He kneels between your legs, his hands trembling slightly as he undoes your jeans. His anxiety giving way to determination, focusing on pleasing you instead of himself.

"oh Handsome" you moan as he takes off your jeans.

Hearing your moan sent shivers down Spider's spine. He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight before him. "Jesus, you're gorgeous," he whispers hoarsely, his gaze fixed on you. Gently, he trails kisses along your inner thigh, igniting a fire within him. Every inch revealed stoked his desire, yet he remains focused on satisfying you. As his tongue darts out, he tastes your sweetness, savoring each sensation. Your moans fueling his efforts, driving him to perform better.

"Spencer, that feels so good" you're spread out on the counter and your hands are tangled in his hair.

Spider's breath catches in his throat at your praise. Encouraged, he delves deeper, eager to make you feel good. His heart hammers against his ribs, adrenaline coursing through him. Each pull of your hips and gasp of pleasure drives him further. Despite his own anxieties, he finds release in pleasuring you. Your hands tightening in his hair only emboldened him, the connection overwhelming yet gratifying. With renewed vigor, he continues his exploration, losing himself in the rhythm.

You gasp violently, moaning and tugging at his hair "I'm so close handsome. oh my god spencer"

"Comin' for me, love?" Spider questions urgently, his voice thick with lust. He picks up pace, matching your intensity. Your cries fueling him, pushing past his own discomfort. Sensing your climax, he surrendered to the moment, giving you everything he had. With a final thrust of his tongue, he feels you convulse beneath him. Relief washes over him, satisfaction filling the void of self-consciousness. Breathless, he rests his forehead against your thigh, heart pounding wildly.

"holy shit" you breathe out, smiling. you pull spider up by his hair and bring your lips to his, tasting yourself on him.

Taken aback, Spider feels a flush rise to his cheeks. He hesitates for a mere second before returning the kiss, a mix of surprise and excitement courses through him. Tasting yourself on him adds a layer of intimacy that he can't deny is hot. Your actions stirring something primal within him, pushing past his inhibitions. As the kiss deepens, his hands roam freely, exploring every curve. In that moment, he forgets about his insecurities, embracing the passion fully.

Spider gasps at your sudden move, his world spinning. Your scent enveloping him as you kiss him, raw passion evident in your touch. In that moment, all doubts dissipated. He returns the kiss fervently, surrendering to the newfound intimacy. As you pull away, he grins, slightly embarrassed yet pleased. "Didn't think I'd be takin' you to the kitchen counter, love," he joked weakly. "But guess some things are worth breakin' rules for." He laughs nervously, trying to regain composure.

you reach for his belt buckle trying to undo it "let me return the favour" you slur

Realizing your intentions, Spider freezes mid-grin. "Whoa, whoa, hold up there, tiger." He pants, stopping your hand. "i just like making you feel good." he says. "Wanna keep things fair, right?" He attempts humor, wanting to avoid awkwardness. shifting uncomfortably he says "But thanks for offerin', Y/n."

"you sure handsome?" you bite your lip and shift back and forth on the counter.

Spider studies your expression, seeing disappointment clouding your features. "Swear on me mum's grave, love," he assures you sincerely. "Just gotta work through somethings first." He tries to smile reassuringly, reaching for your hand. "This was incredible, though. Not many can say they had a kitchen counter rendezvous." He squeezes your hand gently, hoping to lift your spirits. "Next time, okay?" He offers tentatively, yearning for another chance.

"okay, spider ill see you at school " you say, showing him to the door and with that, he leaves and begins to drive home.

 Spider watches you close the front door behind you, a mix of emotions churning inside him. The night was unlike anything he'd experienced, leaving him both elated and humbled. As he drives home, thoughts swirl in his mind. He can't shake the image of you, nor the taste of your skin. He feels grateful for the encounter yet frustrated by his limitations. One thing was clear: despite the hurdles, he wanted more with you. As he parks outside his house, he takes a deep breath. "Dammit, Y/n," he murmurs to himself, heading indoors. "Next time, it'll be different."

taglist: @sweetest-catha, @forwheat-is-wheat, @mydearmoonyy, @ivees-blog @meepmoopmopsworld

#luuuuucyscorner #smut #spencer white #spider white #spider heartbreak high #spencer 'spider' white #heartbreak high #hbh #ameria wadia #ayesha madon #asher yasbincek #bryn chapman parish #anthony “ant” vaughn #ant vaughn #anthony vaughn #darren rivers #harper mclean #fanfic #spencer white x reader #spider x reader #heartbreak high reboot

[rebelwrites]

I Will Never Stop Loving You || Part Three

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Final Part

Summary: It was the last race of the season but there was one thing missing for Charles.

Part One || Part Two

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️

Softly you closed the back door behind you after going for a smoke, making your way around the kitchen you flicked the kettle on before getting out two mugs. One for you and one for your dad. Ever since your call with Charles on Lucy’s birthday things had started to change, you didn’t cry as much and you were hiding yourself away from the world.

You put a post up on your social media apologising for your sudden absence and any orders that had been placed would be fulfilled but you weren't accepting new orders.

“Kiddo, you are gonna miss it if you don’t hurry up.” Your dad shouted from the living room.

“Be through in a min, making a coffee.” You smiled, just as the kettle finished boiling.

Charles had been respectful of you needing space so any contact you had was because you sent the first message. But most of it was wishing him luck for the rest of the season.

Entering the living room you placed the two mugs on the coffee table before flopping on the sofa, picking up your sketch pad as you made yourself comfy on the sofa.

The moment Charles appeared on the screen for the pre-quali interview, you were sure your heart skipped a beat. He looked better than he did on the call, like he actually managed to get some decent sleep and the fire was back in his eyes.

Pulling your phone out you pulled up the conversation with Charles, letting your fingers dart across the screen.

To Charliebear 🐻❤️

Good luck this weekend, smash it like I know you can. Doesn’t matter if you come first or last as long as you put your all into it then that’s all that matters. We will be watching from the sofa x

Charles was in the middle of the interview when he pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the screen when a genuine smile crossed his face as he read your text.

“Well, someone knows how to make you smile.” The interviewer said.

“Yeah, they really do.” He nodded, slipping his phone back in his pocket before winking at the camera.

You felt a smile tug at the corner of your lips as you dropped your gaze to the sketch pad on your lap. Suddenly the world felt like it was going to be right again one day.

“Did you just text him?” Dad asked with a big grin on his face.

“Don’t know what you are talking about.” You shrugged hearing your phone go off. Glancing at the screen you saw Charles had text back sending a string of red hearts and blowing kiss faces.

For the next couple of weeks you had started texting Charles more, at first it started with texting good luck for the race, then it was texting him after the race until you found yourself starting to text him throughout the days. Asking how things were going, what he was up to, telling him about your day etc.

Everyone had noticed a change in you, your smile was coming back and so was the sparkle in your eyes. Everyday your heart called out for Charles, each day that passed you missed him even more.

As you were lying in bed one Friday night rewatching One Tree Hill, you saw your phone ringing out the corner of your eyes. Grabbing the remote you turned the TV down before accepting the FaceTime call from Charles.

“Tout va bien? Everything okay?” You asked, adjusting your position in bed so you were now leaning against the headboard.

“Je ne peux pas dormir. I can’t sleep.” He sighed, running his hand over his face. “J'espère que ça ne te dérange pas que j'appelle. Hope you don't mind me calling.”

“Not at all, I was only watching TV anyway.” You smiled, pausing your comfort show.

“Let me guess, One Tree Hill.” He smirked, propping his phone up on the nightstand.

“No, I was urm watching,” you paused trying to think of another show but your mind went blank. “Okay, yes One Tree Hill.”

“Vous êtes trop mignon. You are too cute.” He grinned, reaching over for the TV remote. “What episode are you on?”

“Urm season one episode 21.” You whispered. “It’s only just started.”

“Okay, wait there.” Charles smiled, flicking onto the streaming service finding the show and loading up the right episode. “We can watch it together if you like?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You breathed, propping your phone up on your bedside table before snuggling down in bed.

“Is this the episode of the rain kiss?” Charles asked as he got himself comfy.

“You remember the episodes?”

“Sweetheart, how many times have we watched this show?” Charles hummed, raising his eyebrow at you.

A comfortable silence washed over the pair of you as you watched the show together, albeit in different countries and not exactly together but in this moment it was perfect. However Charles wasn’t really watching the show, his attention was purley on his phone watching how you were snuggled down in your bed clutching something in your arms. Squinting at the small screen he quickly realised it was one of his hoodies, the one that went missing after the night of the argument. A smile quickly spread on his face as he fiddled with your engagement ring that was still hanging around his neck.

In that moment he realised that he didn’t care about racing and the championship as much as he thought he did. He could have that life any day of the week and he was living his dream but what was the gut punching realisation was none of it mattered if you weren’t the one by his side. The only reason he hadn’t flown out to the UK was because you said you needed time and space so he was giving that to you, just like the reason he hadn’t given up on the rest of the season was because you didn’t want him to throw everything down the drain because of everything that had happened over the last couple of months.

The sound of soft snores brought his attention back to his phone, his heart melted at the sight of you sleeping, making him realise how much he missed you. He missed sharing the bed with you, the moments first thing in the morning when you were making the coffee, the late night talks.

He couldn’t bring himself to end the call, this was the most contact he had gotten since the argument.

“Fais de beaux rêves mon ange. Je t'aime pour toujours. Sweet dreams my angel. I love you, forever and always.” He hummed, switching the TV off feeling himself getting sleepy. Taking one last glance at his phone screen he found himself smiling as he drifted off to sleep.

Morning rolled around and the sound of soft snores coming from your left caused you to turn around, your heart melting at sight of Charles peacefully, his hair was now all fluffy. But you couldn’t get over the fact at how relaxed he looked, every time you saw him for the last couple of weeks he still looked like everything was tearing him up a pang of guilt washed over you as everything you both had been going through was because you walked out.

Running your fingers through your hair you came up with a plan. Grabbing your old laptop you waited for it to kick into life. Cursing at the speed it was going. Eventually it sprung into action, opening up the internet browser, you started searching for flights to Abu Dhabi. The plan was to surprise Charles, no matter if he won or lost you wanted to be there. You couldn’t live without him any more, he was your soul mate, the one you wanted to grow old with, the one you wanted to marry.

Smiling to yourself as you booked the flights, all you needed to do was speak to Pierre to arrange the grid passes.

“Qu'est-ce qui te fait sourire? What's got you smiling?” Charles hummed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Nothing,” you giggled, closing the laptop and turning to face Charles. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you last night.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Charles smiled, pushing himself to a sitting position.

That’s when you caught sight of your engagement ring hanging around his neck.

“Vous avez toujours la bague? You still have the ring?” You whispered, feeling the tears prick your eyes at the fact Charles really meant it when he said he wasn’t giving up on you.

“Bien sûr ma chère. Je savais qu'il finirait par revenir à sa place un jour mais pour l'instant il restera autour de mon cou jusqu'à ce que ce jour vienne. Of course my dear. I knew it would end up back where it belongs one day but for now it will stay around my neck until that day comes.” He smiled, fiddling with the ring.

Before you could say anything your dad walked into your room with a freshly brewed cup of coffee, smiling at the saw you were on FaceTime with Charles.

“Good to see you, son.” Your dad nodded towards the camera. “Are you doing okay?”

“As well as can be.” Charles nodded. “I’d love to stay and chat but I need to get ready for the day of press conferences.”

“I will text you later.” You smiled at him before the call ended. Your dad smirked at the time of the call, he knew that you had been on the call all night whilst you slept, it was something you both used to do at the start of the relationship.

Ignoring the look from your dad you picked your phone up, instantly calling Pierre.

“Pierre, j'ai besoin de ton aide. Pouvez-vous me trier avec des laissez-passer de grille pour Abu Dhabi. Pierre, I need your help. Can you sort me out with grid passes for Abu Dhabi.” You said in a rush the moment he answered the call.

“S'il vous plaît calmez-vous, je viens juste de me réveiller. Please calm down, I've only just woke up.” He chuckled down the phone.

Wander through the house with your phone held against your ear with your shoulder, you swiped your cigarettes off the counter before heading out into the crisp UK autumn air as you babbled away to Pierre about your plan.

This was the best you had felt in a while but now you just had to wait a month for the final race of the season without spilling the surprise to Charles.

-

Standing in the arrivals of the airport your heart was pounding against your chest. This would be the first time you had seen Charles since you first walked out of the hotel those months ago. Everything had gone to plan so far, Charles still had no idea you would be greeting him at the end of the race no matter if he won or not.

You had a good feeling about the final race of the weekend, he had secured pole position for the race and he was looking strong out there.

Pierre had already texted you saying he was outside but you needed a moment to calm your thoughts. Over the last month it felt like you and Charles were getting back to the old versions of yourself, you were constantly texting or on FaceTime. Taking a breath you wrapped your fingers around the handle of your suitcase dragging it behind you as you made your way through the crowd. The hood on Charles’ hoodie had been pulled over your head, and the baseball cap was securely in place. The last thing you needed was the press catching on to you being here and spoiling everything you had planned.

Over the course of the months you had learnt to ignore the press, there was always some new article about what happened between you and Charles, it was laughable really they obviously did have anything else to report because they were focused on you.

The moment you stepped out of the airport you placed a cigarette between your lips scanning the pick up bays trying to spot Pierre’s car. Frowning when you couldn’t see him you felt your phone start ringing. Rolling your eyes you answered the call.

“Où es-tu? Where are you?”

“Tournez-vous à droite, je suis dans une location. Turn to you right, I'm in a rental.” He chuckled, watching as you turned around smiling when you saw the car ending the call.

Finishing your smoke you chucked your case into the back of the car before you clambered into the front seat.

“How is he doing?” You asked, watching the scenery change.

“Recently a lot better.” Pierre smiled softly, glancing over at you. “Ever since you FaceTimed him on Lucy’s birthday everything changed.”

“Truth is it took a lot for me to text him that day, I did it more so for me than Luce.” You admitted, leaning your head against the window.

“I know,” he winked, “Je ne suis pas aussi stupide que tu le penses. I'm not as stupid as you think I am.”

“Ferme-la et conduit. Shut up and drive.” You giggled, pulling your phone out finding yourself texting Charles with a huge smile on your face.

-

The crowd was going mental as Charles crossed the line with Pierre close behind him. Your smile was wide as you watched from Pierre’s garage. Everyone on the team had been so accommodating, setting you up so you were hidden out of sight.

Your heart was racing so fast you thought it was going to burst through your chest. Keeping your eyes glued to the screen you watched as the cars pulled up to the podium. All you wanted to do was run over to Charles but you had to wait. The plan was you were going to slip into the crowd blending in whilst he took the podium.

“Y/N, it’s time.” Pierre’s manager grinned, wrapping her arm around your shoulders. “Go get your man.”

Taking a deep breath you silently prayed that this didn’t backfire. Pushing your way through the crowd you found the perfect position in the sea of people, you still had the cap on so your face was shielded for now.

Watching your man brought tears to your eyes as you watched him pull the black cord from his fireproofs, squeezing his eyes closed before kissing your engagement ring, once he had done that he lifted the trophy in the air. That was your queue.

The crowd fell silent for a split second as they watched in awe so you took that to your advantage, wolf whistling causing Pierre to grin, nudging his friend, leaning into him and whispering something to the Monégasque.

You wasn’t quite sure what Pierre said to Charles but he started scanning the crowd until he locked eyes with you, even from this distance you could see the tears that rolled down his cheek as he was trying to determine if this was real or not. Pulling the Ferrari cap off you ran your fingers through your hair, throwing him a wink.

Everything happened in slow motion from that point, as soon as Charles was off the podium he passed the trophy to Pierre before pushing his way through the crowd ignoring everyone that was shouting at him to come back.

All that mattered to him was getting to his girl.

Fumbling with the sleeves of the hoodie you watched as the crowd moved out of his way, you knew the camera’s would be following but you didn’t care.

As soon as he was within touching distance you ran into his arms, jumping so your legs were around his waist and arms around his neck. Automatically you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck inhaling the smell of after shave. Once again the world felt right again.

“Je suis désolé. I’m sorry” you cried over and over against his skin causing him to hold onto you tighter.

“Tu n'as pas besoin de t'excuser, je suis celui qui t'a conduit au point de rupture. You don't need to apologise, I am the one who led you to breaking point.” He cried, refusing to let you go even when your legs dropped to the ground, his arms securely wrapped around your waist.

The pair of you stood in silence with the whole world watching you reconnect.

“Just kiss her!” Pierre hollered, making you both chuckle.

“Il y a quelque chose que je dois faire d'abord. There is something I need to do first.” He grinned, moving so he could pull the black cord from under his fireproofs.

Your eyes fixated on him as he undid the clasp letting the diamond ring fall into the palm of his hand.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as he dropped down onto one knee in the middle of the crowd.

“Je sais que je l'ai déjà demandé, mais je sais que j'ai été un connard et que je passerai ma vie à me rattraper. I know I have asked this before but I know I have been a dick and I will spend my life making it up to you.” He grinned, taking your hand in his, his eyes shining bright with love. “Je t'ai laissé t'éloigner de moi une fois et je ne laisserai plus jamais ça arriver. Y/N tu es mon monde, rien d'autre n'a d'importance si tu n'es pas à mes côtés. I let you walk away from me once and I'm not going to ever let it happen again. Y/N you are my world, nothing else matters if you aren't by my side.” He cried, taking a deep breath. “Je ne peux plus supporter d'être séparé de toi. Y/N allez-vous me rendre l'homme le plus heureux une fois de plus et accepter de reprendre ce stupide monégasque et de devenir sa femme. I can't bear to be apart from you any longer. Y/N will you make me the happiest man once again and agree to take this stupid Monégasque back and become his wife.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked down on the one person that made everything better. The last couple of months told you that you would rather be by his side no matter how shit times are or how hard they got.

Slowly you nodded your head as a huge grin spread on your face. “Yes.” You breathed, watching his smile grow ten times wider as he slid your engagement ring back in your finger.

Once he was happy it was securely in place he pushed himself to his feet, placing both hands on your cheeks, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

“Back where it belongs.” He breathed against your lips, before capturing them in a steering kiss.

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader

[hotlink907]

request: breeding kink jennie, getting punished in public with remote vibrator. rewarded by being filled up multiple times

pairing: jennie x gp!reader

genre: pure smut

warnings: public play, public orgasm, unprotected sex, breeding kink

“Oh my god,” Jennie whispered as the two of you walked through the mall. You could see her struggling to control yourself, and it was turning you on quite a bit. You had to consciously prevent yourself from getting too hard. After all this, was supposed to be Jennie’s punishment.

You were able to control her, every step of the way. It was simple--she had a remote vibrator resting in her panties, applying however much stimulation you controlled it to.

That also meant that she needed to walk around in public without letting the rest of the world know that she was constantly teetering right on the edge of an orgasm. Which was a lot harder than it sounded, just because you knew all the best patterns for driving her crazy.

“How much longer?” she hissed, her voice jumping on the last word as you increased the intensity for just a moment.

“Until I don’t feel like it anymore,” you told her. That was the only answer she was going to get. Because this was her punishment for being a brat, again.

“I think I’m going to cum,” she whined as the two of you walked. You could tell that her legs were starting to shake. “Please...”

“You can handle it,” you said. “You want it, don’t you?”

“Yes... but...!”

You shook your head. “No complaining. If you take it like a good girl, I’ll reward you when we get home.”

She gripped your hand tightly. “I can’t last much longer, it’s so much!”

You shook her head off. “Walk in front of me.”

She looked at you with wide, surprised eyes. “W-what? Why? Why can’t I walk next to you?”

You smirked. “I thought that was obvious. It’s because I want to watch you have an orgasm in public.” And your finger twitched on your phone, turning the vibrations up again.

Jennie squeaked, unable to stop herself, but she could tell that you weren’t joking. So she quickened her pace and sped up, so that she was now walking in front of you by a decent amount, enough for you to really see how your punishment was affecting her.

She was walking slowly, her fists clenched, clearly so desperate to keep herself under control. But you knew that she wasn’t going to be able to last more than a few moments longer.

And there it was. You couldn’t hear her, but you new that she had just gasped to herself. Her knees locked, and she almost toppled over, but she steadied herself on a nearby pillar and remained standing.

You caught up to her a few seconds later to see her leaning on the pillar, panting hard, and little bit of sweat visible on her forehead as you powered the vibrator down. “Feeling better?” you asked her.

She nodded, her eyes wide.

“Good girl,” you said. “I hope you’re ready for your reward.”

---

You had decided on her reward before the two of you had even made it home. You didn’t tell her what it was, of course. Half the fun was the anticipation.

And it was going to be a real reward. Something that she was definitely going to love. And you were going to love giving it to her.

As soon as the two of you got home, Jennie starting pestering you about the reward. “I was so good!” she insisted. “I deserve it! And I want it right now!”

You lifted an eyebrow. “I thought we talked about your brattiness,” you said. “Do you need another punishment already?”

She shook her head quickly. “That’s right,” you said. “Because only good girls get rewarded. Now get naked and get ready for your present.”

You were pretty sure that she had never stripped that fast in her life. Her clothes were scattered all over the ground in mere moments. Meanwhile, you leisurely pulled off your clothes, placing them on the floor and finally revealing your rock hard erection.

Jennie looked at it hungrily. She opened her mouth, but you stopped her. “Oh no,” you said. “This is all for your greedy pussy. I’ve been saving it all up for you.”

Her mouth dropped open and you knew right then and there that the two of you were never going to make it to the bedroom. Jennie grabbed you and pulled you on top of her, right there in the middle of the floor. “Fuck me,” she demanded. “So hard, please, fill me up!”

You didn’t make her wait any longer, instead plunging deep inside her, deep enough to feel your balls press against her body. She gasped, unable to speak from the sudden rush of being filled. “That’s not all I’m going to be filling you up with,” you purred into her ear.

You had intentionally not let yourself cum for several days, just so that you could give her an extra large load. Or two. Or more.

You began to thrust into her, deep and hard, making each stroke count. She wanted your cum inside of her, you could feel her trying every tactic she knew to milk it out of you. What she didn’t know was that you weren’t going to be stopping with just one.

“Take me,” you growled into her ear. “All of me. Every inch.”

“Yes!” she cried out. “I need it! I need you! Cum for me, cum in me, fill me up!”

“God, yes, Jennie,” you managed to say as you felt the orgasm approaching. “Are you ready?”

“Give it to me!”

And you did--unloading, again and again, rope after rope of your cum deep inside her, completely buried in her pussy. She gasped in pleasure as she felt it filling her up, and she clung tighter to you as you remained inside her, even when you were finished.

“So... good...” she murmured, when you had finally finished.

“Was it?” you asked, your voice taking on a more dominant tone. “Good. I hope there’s more room inside you... because I’m going to fill you up again.”

“Oh my god,” Jennie breathed.

You hadn’t gone soft. Not with her perfect body against yours. And you knew you weren’t going to, not until you had filled her once, maybe twice more.

“By the time I’m done with you,” you promised, “you won’t be able to walk.”

Jennie couldn’t speak. She was just looking at you with pure lust all over her face.

“Are you ready?” you asked.

But you didn’t give her a chance to respond.

#jennie smut #jennie imagines #jennie fanfic #jennie x reader #blackpink fanfic #blackpink imagines #blackpink smut #blackpink x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop x reader #girl group imagines #girl group smut #girl group x reader #girl group fanfic