#my system is watching over my shoulder. judging me.

[ieatwormsandtheytasteverygood]

so like its my birthday. and i cant remember if i told tumblr about my enormous crush on peter i "the cruel" of castile. so here you go tumblr. i am a big fan of late mediaeval execution methods <3

[mikavlcs]

Not On My Mind

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: You leave school for a trip, and Wednesday doesn’t miss you. Not even a little bit.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday but she’s like...in denial about it, my writing

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: this is kinda messy, but cute. nothing else to add tbh. hope you guys enjoy<3

Masterlist

Wednesday Addams was not soft.

She simply wasn’t. She never had been, and she never would be, for as long as she drew breath. The word didn’t even exist in her vocabulary.

Because she, Wednesday Addams, was a singularity. Unlike any other lowly mortal, she was not born from a womb, but forged in the hottest, most ferocious flames of hell by Lucifer himself. She was pure menace and dread given a small, but formidable physical form.

A vile miscreant equipped with a smile that could make even the purest of angels scream in terror and a glare that could make the devil shed tears of despair. Judge, jury, and executioner—someone capable of horrors beyond even your worst nightmares.

(Well, not executioner since she was unfortunately not yet a murderer, but she would be someday. It was the only incomplete task on her bucket list.)

So, no, Wednesday Addams was not soft. Nor could she ever be capable of such abominable behavior.

And yet…here she was displaying signs of this weakness. Because of you.

You were going on a family vacation. An event which, to Wednesday, sounded like a particularly gruesome method of torture, but you were positively buzzing with excitement about the trip.

Either way, you were going away with your family for a week. An entire seven days without you constantly at her side, chattering in her ear between classes, and lounging around her room in the evenings.

This, in theory, should have been great news. Lucifer knew how much more writing she could get done without you dragging her out to Jericho after classes or trying to read over her shoulder despite her threats of bodily harm. But it wasn’t great news. In fact, the information brought forth an odd sort of discomfort. A dull ache in her chest she’d never experienced before.

It was disgusting, it was vile, and it would certainly stain her reputation if it ever got out.

She supposed her reputation had already been defiled by the fact that her roommate and self-appointed best friend was the human embodiment of a rainbow, but this? This was a new low.

Her shamefulness was all she could think about while she watched you pack from her place on your bed. Well, “pack” was a generous way to describe it. You were actually just frantically grabbing clothes and other various items from around your room and throwing them into your suitcase and duffel bag, much to the disapproval of the meticulously organized Addams.

You insisted that you had a system, a method to your madness. Wednesday disagreed but didn’t bother voicing it.

From the ground, your voice rose, sounding far too winded for someone doing so little exercise. “Can you hand me that box on the dresser, Wends?”

Wednesday exhaled sharply. She came here to see you off, not help you pack last minute. Still, she obeyed, not without sending you a scathing glare that you promptly ignored.

The box in question was easy to find, already open atop your dresser where you directed her. She took a passing glance inside to survey the contents within—a bunch of mismatched jewelry that sparked vague recognition but no interest.

Just as she was about to close it, something caught her eye. A ring, sitting in the corner of the box. It was a simple, visually unobtrusive black band with silver engravings wound throughout. She recognized it as one of your most frequently worn pieces of jewelry, but it had never captured her attention before now.

She was overcome with the sudden, overwhelming urge to take it. Wednesday very nearly stifled it, but she figured since you were subjecting her to these horrific feelings, she was entitled to a settlement of some kind.

Swiftly, she pocketed the ring and snapped the box shut, venturing back over to you, none the wiser as you messily stuffed clothing into your suitcase. She held the box out to you, eyes narrowing in condemnation at the messy state of your things below.

“Why are you taking the entire box?” Wednesday asked neutrally.

“Because these dorms are not the most secure,” you answered, taking the box from her hand with a smile and placing it on top of your clothes. “And I would hate for something to get stolen while I was gone.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched. “Yes, that would be unfortunate.”

Soon enough, you were finished packing and ready to go. Almost. For some reason, you were struggling to carry both your duffel bag and suitcase at the same time. It was quite humorous, watching you struggle, but she took pity on you knowing you were on a schedule.

“You’re weak,” she grumbled as she snatched the duffel bag from your hand, slung it over her shoulder, and stepped around you to open the door.

You followed closely behind, flashing her a grateful, slightly sheepish grin while closing the door behind you. “Thanks, Wends.”

She said nothing, just kept walking, finding amusement in the sound of you fumbling to catch up. When you found your footing, you took your usual place at her side, shoulders brushing while you easily fell into step with her.

The whole way down, you chattered on and on about what you were excited to do on the trip, but Wednesday wasn’t tuned in. Her attention was on the way her stomach fell further with every step closer to the waiting car outside and the pit she could feel forming for seemingly no reason at all.

She despised it, this ever-growing weakness you unwillingly made her develop.

Walking out, you found the car parked right by the curb outside, Principal Weems already leisurely resting against it while she waited for you to arrive.

The tall woman greeted the two of you with a smile, to which you offered a wave in return while Wednesday just stared. She came to collect your luggage and went to put it in the back of her car, leaving the two of you to say your goodbyes.

You turned to her, rocking back on your heels, clearly unsure of what to say. Wednesday, though she’d never admit it, was in a similar predicament, without the slightest clue of what to do now.

She didn’t know why, but she was tempted to pull you back into the school and drag her back to her dorm. The urge was utterly ridiculous, yet grew more powerful by the second, nagging at her as she watched your agonizingly slow internal debate.

“I guess I’ll see you in a week,” you finally said, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’ll be over in a flash, and I’ll be back to talking your ear off before you know it.”

Wednesday gave you a firm nod in lieu of a verbal response. You sent a sideways glance to the principal’s car, clearly remembering you had a flight to catch.

“Bye, Wends,” you said, then added, “Please don’t kill anyone while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” she deadpanned, earning a laugh from you.

After another moment of indecision, you pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, feather-light and entirely too quick for her tastes. But she didn’t voice that embarrassing thought, just watched you walk off and enter the vehicle with her arms crossed.

As the car pulled off, you turned and waved to her out the back window, and she lifted her fingers from her forearm slightly in response. The smile you gave her got smaller and smaller with distance.

Wednesday stayed standing there until the car was out of sight, the unidentified pit in her stomach never abating.

—

The week that followed was…weird.

It was the same as any other week at Nevermore, yet entirely different.

She was indeed able to get much more writing done, but it wasn’t as triumphant as Wednesday imagined. The silence in her room was refreshing for all of twenty minutes before the tone of it shifted, and the quiet felt empty. It didn’t impede her workflow—if anything, it increased it—but it just felt wrong.

There were a number of notable happenings throughout the week as well.

Bianca suffered her 47th defeat at the hands of Wednesday during their weekly fencing practice (she was very excited to get to 50), Eugene somehow got six bees stuck in his hair and, in a show of true incompetence, Xavier managed to spill an entire can of paint on himself. Something he would never, ever live down as far as Wednesday was concerned.

In all of those instances, she found herself looking to her right to see if you were smiling or laughing. Until she was met with the empty space you would’ve occupied, and she remembered. You weren’t here. It made a certain hollowness settle in her chest, making her mood drop ever so slightly.

It was pathetic, honestly. It made her want to self-lobotomize herself to attempt to determine just how much damage you’d done, to see if it was reverible.

Still, she mentally cataloged the events to recount for you upon your arrival. Only so she wouldn’t have to deal with your whining about her not telling you anything once you inevitably heard it from Enid.

Throughout each day, your ring accompanied Wednesday everywhere she went. Slipping it on right before leaving her dorm and taking it off just before bed quickly became her new routine.

She had never fully understood the obsession that people had with rings as the only hand jewelry she ever enjoyed wearing was brass knuckles, but she was beginning to get it now. The light weight on her hand was somewhat soothing, especially in moments when your absence was particularly potent.

She hoped that no one would notice it. Most wouldn’t have even known it belonged to you, but your shared group of friends (acquaintances on Wednesday’s end) would likely recognize it since you wore it so frequently.

Knowing this, Wednesday did her best to take it off in group settings, slipping it into her blazer pocket to put back on after, but it was harder to remember during classes. This oversight ended up being her undoing.

It wound up taking three days for someone to notice the ring. And, of course, that someone was Enid.

They were in Botany, listening to Miss Thornhill drone on about some rare carnivorous plant. Enid was in the seat next to her to “fill in the void” you left behind in your absence with her peppy, prismatic presence.

Entirely unnecessary, but so were most things Enid did. Wednesday had long since learned not to question her anymore.

Wednesday, having already known everything there was to know about the plant, had finished taking her notes five minutes after class started, but Enid wasn’t even trying to take notes. She was instead doing seemingly everything in her power to irritate Wednesday. Incessantly doodling, clicking her pen, constantly fidgeting and shifting, drumming her fingers against the desk.

It was positively maddening. And not in a good way.

In an effort not to snap at her, Wednesday occupied herself with your ring. Tracing the engravings and twisting it around her finger. It was soothing. Enid, nosy as she was, glanced over at the movement and paused her pen clicking.

“Hey…” she started, and Wednesday immediately knew she would hate where this was going. Enid leaned over, making Wednesday lean back in turn. Her eyes narrowed then widened moments later with a soft gasp. “That ring, isn’t that—"

“None of your business? Absolutely,” she gritted out, sending her a scathing glare. “Now, perhaps you should actually pay attention. Maybe then you’ll have a chance of finally getting something higher than a 70 on the next test.”

Her roommate looked like she wanted to say more but eventually conceded with a disgustingly wide smile and a mumble that sounded awfully like that’s so cute of you, roomie.

Wednesday swore that if it were anybody else, she would’ve finally completed her bucket list that day.

—

After what seemed like an eternity and many more tests to Wednesday’s patience (almost exclusively from Enid), seven days passed and the time for you to return to Nevermore arrived.

It had actually been longer than seven days—170 hours and 17 minutes, to be exact—but who was counting? Certainly not Wednesday.

The principal’s car pulled in just as the sun began to set, and Wednesday was there, standing off to the side of the school’s entrance. Not because she was waiting for you, she simply had matters to attend to in the courtyard around that time.

You stepped out the car moments later and your eyes found hers instantly, expression brightening. Bags in hand, you ran over to her but stopped just short of her, excitement fading into uncertainty.

Wednesday stared at you, then, with an audible sigh, stepped forward. Your smile returned, increasing tenfold as you dropped your bags and wrapped your arms around her, careful not to squeeze her too hard. If you questioned the way she barely leaned into your embrace and turned her face just slightly into your neck, she would say it was entirely in your head.

“Did you miss me?” you asked once you pulled back, hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

“Not for a second,” she answered. “I was able to get twice as much writing done without your constant prattling and distractions.”

“Uh-huh.” The sly smile on your face told her that you definitely weren’t buying it, but you plowed on before she could confront you. “Y’know, you could have texted me if you had a phone,” you persuaded, fixing her with a look she’d become intimately familiar with since you’d started dating. “I could always get you one.”

Wednesday blinked, shot you a dubious look. “You’re broke.”

Your shoulders fell dramatically, but your tone remained light. “Damn, Wends, you didn’t have to say it like that.”

She didn’t dignify you with another response. Knowing you would need time to unpack before dinner, she slung one of your bags over your shoulder and took off in the direction of your dorm, leaving you to catch up.

It wasn’t long before you were by her side, matching her pace easily. And, of course, you had more to say.

“Do you wanna hear about my trip?”

“No,” she said. A beat. Then, “But you may tell me while you unpack. I know you like to run your mouth while completing tasks anyway. I have things to tell you as well.”

“Really? Thanks, Wends,” you grinned brightly. Wednesday shot you a glare, and if you noticed that it was softer than usual, you didn’t comment.

Unable to keep your mouth shut, you started ranting about the traffic you hit on the way back to the airport, or something related to that. Wednesday wasn’t quite listening. She was instead taking in the unfocused drawl of your voice in her ear, the strides perfectly matching hers, the light brush of your shoulder against hers—just appreciating the familiar presence at her side once more.

It had only been a week, yet it felt like a lifetime since she had last experienced this.

Without thinking, her hand drifted to fiddle with your ring, and your eyes caught the movement. You stopped suddenly, prompting Wednesday to come to a halt as well with a questioning look.

Gently, you grabbed her hand and brought it closer to your face to inspect the band around her finger.

“This is mine, isn’t it?” you asked, brows knitting together. “I’ve been wondering where it went, I swore I packed it...”

Wednesday snatched her hand away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about but grab my hand like that again and yours will be swiftly removed.”

“But—” you started to protest but stopped abruptly. She watched, curious, as your expression smoothed over into something even she couldn’t quite read. You nodded, smiled. “Yeah, I must be confused, sorry.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes but accepted the apology with a nod.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. It was odd. Wednesday stole a few glances to see if you were upset, but you seem to be. If anything, the opposite.

Still, the silence stretched on even when you both arrived at your destination, and you were pulling the door to your dorm open for her. She strode inside, trying to find a way to broach the subject without sounding too concerned.

But there was no need.

Just after the door closed, you put a hand on her shoulder and leaned over into her space. She gave you a startled glare but didn’t move away, ignoring the way her ears burned at the sight of your soft smile and the equally soft whisper that followed.

“I missed you too, Wednesday.”

—

everyone @ wednesday while reading this:

anyways happy pride to my fellow loser gays 🥳🏳️‍🌈

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Toshia Mori (The Bitter Tea of General Yen, Blondie Johnson)—i think Toshia Mori is a great example of someone who clearly had the makings and charisma of a star & who its easy to imagine thriving in a less white supremacist system than 20s and 30s hollywood. she began acting in silent movies in the late 20s, and in 1932 was selected as a "WAMPAS Baby Star" which was an annual promotion of promising up-and-coming young actresses by the Western Association of Motion Picture Advertisers, becoming the first Asian woman to do so. previous baby stars included Clara Bow, Joan Crawford, and Joan Blondell, and another 1932 honoree was Ginger Rogers. this likely led to her most sizeable role in The Bitter Tea of General Yen (unfortunately a movie with a lot of orientalism going on and white actors in yellowface). she was well received but the studio seemed to lose interest in her career and she largely continued to get bit parts; her last appearance was in a Charlie Chan movie in 1937. she deserved better!!

Veronica Lake (I Married a Witch, Sullivan's Travels)—her look is so iconic they used her as a visual model for jessica rabbit in who framed roger rabbit and a bunch of other femme fatale types in cartoons and live action alike. i didnt think i liked women and then i saw her in sullivans travels and said gee i hope this doesnt awaken anything in me! every role ive seen her in she absolutely oozes an aura of "i know people would ask me to step on them" and her EYES bro every photo ive looked at for this submission its like shes piercing thru time and space to judge me <3

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Toshia Mori:

Veronica Lake:

Her HAIR, her FIGURE, her VOICE, the way she wore LEATHER AND SANG SONGS FOR NO REASON.

I don't believe there's a person on earth who can watch Veronica Lake in I Married A Witch and not be struck by how gorgeous she is. She had that youthful wonder about her that almost every Hollywood starlet was trying to achieve. Her hairstyle (peekaboo bangs) became an iconic Hollywood style after she popularized it, and made her signature look all the more suggestive. Also, witches are tumblrs favorite!

ICONIC hair sweep

The US government literally begged her to change her hairstyle because it was TOO HOT to handle and women who copied it were getting their hair caught in machinery

Her hairstyle was so iconic and popular that the war department had to come out with a PSA instructing lady ironworkers with ways they could pin their hair up to avoid it getting bound in machinery. [https://veteranlife.com/military-history/veronica-lake/]

She played a lot of femme fatale roles but my favorite is Sullivan’s Travels opposite Joel McRea, which is a comedy. She became famous for her hair style at the time—she wore it long and parted on one side so it would fall over half her face in a very sexy way. They called it a peek-a-boo I think. You’ve definitely seen Bugs Bunny dressed up like her, so I think if she’s being honored in such a way she’s very cool.

look at her

she's GORGEOUS in her little witch outfits that she wore for promos and also in the oversized coats and pajamas she wore throughout the movie...she's got RANGE

My Grandpa supposedly dated her in high school, he drove her to school in his car every day. This is legend in the family.

She has gorgeous hair, has got the smouldering look over the shoulder down PAT, and is just drop-dead gorgeous too!

Schizophrenic icon, popularized the peekaboo hairdo long before Jessica Rabbit

She’s just so prettyyyyy

So much hot in such a tiny package. She was no more than 5 feet tall, and some reports claim as small as 4'9"

If you picture a femme fatale in your head, almost certainly Veronica Lake had a hand in shaping the image you think of. She came to embody the look of the noir leading lady as well as the sound and the performance. Certified Noir Baddie.

[frvnkcastles]

hello my love!!! i was wondering if i could request a fic with a reader who finds it hard to accept affection (even though she loves and craves it), especially in public getting super embarrassed and thinking everyone is staring and judging because why would someone like FRANK be with someone like them??? but frank is just determined at all times to show how much he cares and knows to respect boundaries but also how to push back a little and open the reader up to accepting open affection more. idk if that makes sense? i'm sorry if it doesn't

WITH MY TUNNEL VISION ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You struggle with affection, but Frank is determined to give it to you.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, anxiety, feminine nicknames

Word count: 1.3k

Author’s note: I loved this request so much and I was so worried about not doing it justice, but I tried my best!! I hope you like it :)

Even months after you and Frank had more or less officially started dating, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. He saw himself as someone damaged and broken, but you thought he was the greatest man you had ever gotten to know, and admired him from inside out. He was caring and protective and no doubt easy on the eyes — and most days, you appreciated that wholeheartedly. Some days, you felt insecure. Full of doubt and wonder that he would choose to be with you, and that only heightened whenever you were out in public together.

So, when Curtis and his girlfriend invited you and Frank to a bar for a night out, you were stressed to say the least. You felt completely out of place, like you had no business being by Frank’s side, his arm casually over your shoulders as he laughed at whatever Curtis had just said.

”You okay?” Frank’s deep voice cut through the buzz in your head, and when he ducked down to brush his lips against your forehead, you instinctively dodged — and in an instant, guilt rushed into your system and you could physically feel the air getting awkward. ”Hey, what’s wrong?” Frank added with a frown, unsure where the hesitation was coming from. You had been fine before going out, not a single sign of being mad at him to be seen, and his kisses well-received.

”I’m gonna get another drink”, you evaded the question, and as you turned for the bar, you could feel their eyes on you. That was the feeling you had wanted to avoid — like you were being watched and judged, and here it was, anyway.

You weren’t by yourself for very long. As soon as you were seated by the bar, Frank was following and leaning against the counter to catch your wandering eyes. ”Sweetheart”, he grunted, tilting his head to meet your gaze, ”talk to me.”

Inhaling sharply, you glanced at him before returning your eyes to the bartender mixing your drink. ”You know what’s wrong”, you insisted, but when Frank just stared back at you, you sighed. ”It’s the… affection. Feels weird in public”, you explained further, and with realization dawning on his face, he slowly nodded.

Hell, he hadn’t been the most touchy person, either. But something about you had made it feel safe and secure again, like it was okay for him to be happy and show that to everyone else.

”Baby… ’m sorry, I… shit, yeah, I do remember you mentionin’ that”, he cleared his throat, watching you closely and aching to touch you. ”How come you don’t like it?” Frank wondered with a tone of sincerity, not trying to push your buttons but to understand you better — and as much as you wanted to be frustrated, you understood that.

”I dunno”, you shrugged, but you already knew he wasn’t going to take that for an answer. ”I guess I just feel like people will stare. And—and judge me”, you went on, and with an incredulous chuckle, Frank knitted his eyebrows together.

”Judge you?” he repeated with confusion, and nodding, you drew a generous sip from your drink.

”Yeah, you know, just… you’re… you. And I’m just me. And why would you choose to be with me, right? Everyone can see it. You could do so much better and I swear, if people see you kissing me, they’ll just wonder what you’re doing with me, wasting your time on me”, you rambled, and by the end of your rant, you were flustered and looking around to make sure you hadn’t been too loud. Even now, with Frank only inches away from you, you were sure eyes were on you.

Frank processed your words for a moment. ”Hey, you know that’s total bullshit, right?” he spoke finally, giving you a grave look, his curious smile long gone. ”If anything, people will wonder what a stunner like you is doing with an ugly mug like mine. And even if that were the case, I don’t really fuckin’ care what other people think. You’re my girl, and no one else matters”, he defended you, seething at the mere idea of someone looking at you wrong.

”Did ya see someone starin’? ’Cause you know I’ll fight ’em”, he changed his tone suddenly, glancing around to pinpoint any lurkers, but you quickly placed a calming hand on his forearm.

”I didn’t. It’s just my anxieties, that’s all”, you sighed in defeat, and taking in a breath, Frank turned back to you and nodded.

”And you know it’s all lies, right? Just your head tryna mess with my girl”, he pointed out, and as much as you wanted to justify your fears somehow, you couldn’t help but admit he was right.

”So, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna agree on a safeword that you can use if it gets too much. Until you say it, I’mma dote on you ’til you’re spoiled rotten, ’cause I wanna show you how much I goddamn admire you and I don’t really care who’s around to see”, he proposed, and with a smile curving your lips back up, you stared at him in disbelief — here he was proving yet again that he was everything.

”Deal.”

You tried your very best to tolerate the public displays of affection, because truthfully, you wanted them. You craved his touch and his attention, and behind closed doors, you were hungry for it. So you tried to extend the same courtesy out and about, pushing your own limits because deep down you knew he was right about other people not mattering.

And the greatest part was seeing how happy Frank was. You were the first serious relationship he had found himself in since Maria and it had taken him a long time to relearn how to be in one. But slowly, he had unraveled what worked for him and you, and discovered that he really, really wanted to show his girl off.

So whenever you were out, he made sure to hold your hand or have his arm around your shoulders. Every now and then he would lean in to kiss your forehead or cheek, sometimes even lips, and you were learning how to lean in instead of pull away.

A month later you were back at the same bar with Curt and his girlfriend, on a night when it was especially busy. Frank could tell you were nervous, but trusting in the progress you had made together, he kept you close to him.

”So, things are good?” Curtis queried while Frank was getting you a new drink, and with a beaming smile, you nodded.

”Things are great. He makes me really happy”, you chuckled sheepishly, and just in time, Frank appeared from behind you, handing over your drink.

”Who’s the lucky guy?” he grinned, and softly nudging him, you snorted.

And then, as if it was the most natural thing, you thanked him for the drink by giving him a kiss, and as soon as your lips left his, you could see the amazed stare in his eyes. Immediately, you realized what you had done, and you opened your mouth to say something, but panic washed over you and you were rendered speechless.

”No, no, baby, it’s okay. You did good. You did perfectly”, Frank breathed out, his eyes full of love as he leaned down to cup your cheeks and kiss your nose and jaw and forehead. ”No one’s lookin’, I promise. It’s just you and me, right?” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

You caught your breathing and managed a nod, and when you glanced at Curtis and found him preoccupied with his girlfriend, relief washed over you. ”Yeah, it’s okay”, you swallowed when you looked around, confirming that truly, no one cared. No one was judging.

”Love you”, Frank spoke quietly before leaving a kiss right next to your ear, and squeezing his hand, you dropped your head on his shoulder.

”Love you.”

[evrithingbagel]

Practice Session C.S

Summary: Chris catches you watching him play, so he decides to teach you a bit.

Word count: 0.5k

A/n: first time writing for Chris so I hope I did this request justice 🤞

Requested?: yep!

I walk down the dark hallway, glass of water in hand. My attention is caught by the faint echo of “C U girl” being played on the guitar further down the hallway.

As I get closer I realize it’s coming from Chris’s room. I inch towards the partially open door, pushing it open just enough so I can see Chris.

His fingers move over the strings smoothly as he strums his electric guitar. The sound bounces off the walls and through the house.

The song comes to an end and I’m snapped out of a trance by Chris.

“I see you watching me, y’know.” he says with a slight chuckle

I’m caught off guard with a blush splayed on my face.

“it’s fine I don’t mind.” He looks up at me with a smile

“You’re good.” I cross my arms in-front of my chest, leaning onto the doorframe.

“Hm, you think?” He looks down at the ground, his words dripping with arrogance.

I scoff at his conceited remark. I turn around and start to walk back to my room, before being stopped once again.

“I could teach you, if you want.��� he leans back in his chair, his face covered with a confident smile.

I’m stopped dead in my tracks. I turn back around, trying to not appear as flustered as I actually am. 

“Sure.” I walk into his room. He hands me the guitar, and with all honesty, it’s too heavy.

I hold the metal guitar in my hands, running my fingers over the perfectly tuned strings. My back is nearly pressed up against his chest as he peers over my shoulder.

“Can you like, tell me what to do?”

“Damn, Okay.” He chuckles at my impatience

“I’ll hold these, and you just gotta do this..” Chris holds my hand with the pick and strums it over the strings. “..when I tell you to.”

“I think I can do that” I smile up at him

He briefly lets go of me and walks over to his computer. He plugs in the cord to his speaker system, starting up a song.

He walks back to his previous spot behind me and holds up the electric guitar.

As the rhythm goes on, I play when told too, trying my best to stay on beat. My lips are pressed in a firm line of concentration. This determined look causes Chris to let out a slight laugh.

I hear this and look up at him, my brows furrowed.

“I’m trying my best!” I frown.

“Hey I’m not judging!” He holds both his hands up in defense

The song eventually comes to a finish and I turn around, handing Chris the guitar.

“Thank you, for this” I beam up at him

“No problem.” He winks and one of his hands rests on my hip. “Maybe next time I can teach you a full song.”

I start to walk out and just as I reach the door I turn around

“Can’t wait.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[lovelytsunoda]

you’re on your own, kid // mercedes

summary: to quote her mentor, it’s been a shit fucking day at the office. she doesn’t want to go home alone, and needs a few shoulders to cry on.

pairing: platonic!mercedes amg f1 team x female reader

warnings: *existential crisis intensifies*. talk of loneliness and romantic problems, anxiety. y/n is very emotional and sensitive. I do a lot of projecting because I just want to be comforted. we jokingly bully paul aron a little bit.

author's note: the only explanation i have for this is sad girl fall

"mr. bonnington?" she shouted, dashing across the factory floor to catch up to the race engineer, a stack of papers in her hands.

peter bonnington smiled at the young intern, taking the sheaf of papers patenting the new suspension system being used in the silver arrows for next season. "mr. bonnington was my father. please, y/n, call me bonno. everybody else does. you're one of us now."

"am i? i just work in legal. i don't even get to travel." she said it jokingly, but it was another reminder that she didn't truly fit in with the team, that nothing she did would make her good enough.

"yeah, and you don't get the stress and jet lag that goes along with it." bonno looked at her knowingly. "you're going to do great things here. just you wait and see."

but y/n didn't fully believe him. she wasn't even a proper lawyer, just the clerk. the glorified errand-girl.

she carried that bad feeling in her stomach all day. while she was sitting at her desk typing reports, watching through the windows as the engineers laughed with each other. while she sorted contracts and blueprints and watched the drivers talking with each other on their way to the simulator room. the junior drivers, kimi antonelli and paul aron, one a year younger than she was, the other two full calendar years and three months. just kids, already more successful and well known than y/n would ever be.

and she realized that she never truly felt like she fit in, and then she was going to go home and sit alone with her feelings over a frozen dinner.

as soon as the clock hit five, she grabbed her backpack and her coat and she was out of the office in a flash, headphones in as she bit back tears.

she made it to the edge of the parking lot before she started crying, sitting down on the edge of one of the decorative rocks. the tears ran down her face and she knew she looked like a fool sitting in the parking lot and bawling her eyes out, but her mother always told her that emotions were better out than in.

she didn't know how long she had been there when something brought her back to the present moment. the press of a paw on her leg, a deep bark that cut through the music she was listening to. the gentle pressure of a hand on her shoulder.

she looked down, taking out one of her earbuds as she reached down to scratch roscoe hamilton behind the ears, turning her head to see the bulldog's owner, the one and only lewis hamilton, standing next to the rock where she was sitting.

"are you alright, y/n? you look upset."

she shook her head, wiping her eyes and trying to regain composure. "you know who i am?"

"of course. we met when your lawyer did that tour of the factory floor."

"i didn't think the higher ups would remember somebody like me."

lewis smiled, taking a seat next to her on the rock, lifting roscoe up so she could hold the bulldog in her arms. "do you want to talk about it?"

"it's been a day, lewis. it's been a day. i'm struggling to fit in here, even though this field placement is literally the dream to me. i've loved this team since before i could walk, and i feel like an outsider every time that i walk through the factory doors."

lewis comfortingly put his hand on her arm. "what can we do to help?"

"i don't know. i think that i'm the problem, lewis. i don't know how to talk to people, and i always think they're judging me behind my back. i'm not a people person, and i think it's just as simple as that."

roscoe whined in her lap, nudging his head into her stomach. she laughed scratching the bulldog behind the ears.

"roscoe seems to like you. and if roscoe likes you, you can't be that bad."

"i'm just lonely, lewis. it's my first year away from home, and i've never been alone for this long before."

lewis was about to say something when another voice cut through the air.

"oi, lewis, mate, what are you doing out here in the cold?"

they both turned around. lewis waved the other man over, and soon enough, george russell was sitting on her other side, a concerned look on his face.

"are you alright, love? you look like you've been crying."

"thanks for the reminder." she sniffled, wiping at her eyes with the cuff of her sweater. "i'm y/n, i work in legal."

"nice to meet you, y/n. i'm george, but you know that already, i bet."

lewis patted her gently on the shoulder. "y/n was just saying that she doesn't feel like she fits in here."

george's eyes widened. "that can't be true. come on now, we aren't that bad company, are we?"

y/n laughed, shaking her head. "i've just always struggled with the social aspect. and now i get to go home and be lonely over a good book and a frozen dinner from sainsburys."

lewis raised his eyebrows. "really? a pretty, bright young thing like you must have someone to come home to."

"you know how it is. you grow older and you lose touch with friends, they move away destined for better things and you're still stuck in the same place that you were before because your anxiety is so bad that you can't bear to move away from home and leave behind everything you thought you knew. this is my first time living on my own. i moved out of my parent's house and into a small little flat that i can barely afford."

she stopped and took a deep breath.

i will not cry in front of the most important members of this fucking team.

"with every day that goes by where i don't meet that person, that person who's going to love me unconditionally, that person who's going to tell me i'm gorgeous and kiss me softly and want to spend the rest of their life with me, i get scared that it's never going to happen for me. i'm scared of being alone."

"woah, is there a party out here that i wasn't invited to?" nyck de vries was bundled up from head to toe against the british fall, the wind ruffling his hair as he shrunk his already small body back into the down jacket that swamped his body. "room for one more?"

"if you can fit on the rock, you're welcome to join us." y/n smiled, grateful for the company as she shifted to create room for the reserve driver.

"nyck'll fit, he's tiny anyways." george laughed as the dutch driver joined the trio.

"fuck off, russell. we can't all be tall. being short is awesome anyways, i don't know what you're talking about. so, what are we talking about? boys? inter-office gossip?"

"how about the ever present fear of dying alone having never experienced being in love." y/n said shortly, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her knuckles. "yeah, it's a heavy one."

"i'm sorry, how old are you?"

"almost twenty."

"that's way too young to be having an existential crisis like this, mate. you have your whole life ahead of you."

"it will happen when it's meant to. the world has a funny way of working in the ways you least expect it." lewis said gently, taking her small hand in his larger one. "and in the mean time, you have the three of us."

"i can set you up with some of the f2 guys." nyck suggested. "i mean, it's been a while since i was a part of that world, but there's got to be a few of them left around that could help out."

"absolutely not. i'm not sicking an f2 driver on the poor girl." lewis laughed. "you of all people should know how wild they are."

"would you rather i set her up with a formula e driver? i'd say that they're worse."

"what about clement?" george suggested. "i think you'd love novalak, he's a riot."

"he's friends with lando." lewis reminded his teammate.

"right, maybe he's not the best fit for someone so sweet and quiet. paul, maybe?"

"paul is eighteen years old, george." y/n reminded through a laugh. "i'm not dating a literal child."

"what's this about dating?"

at the sound of the team principal's voice, all conversation ceased as the drivers turned to look at their boss. "hey toto." they chorused in almost terrifying unison.

"your drivers are trying to find me a boyfriend."

toto raised his eyebrows. "and they suggested paul? i wouldn't wish that boy on anybody. his brother might be a good fit though. a nice boy with a respectable job on the pit wall."

"leave the poor girl alone, toto." susie laughed, smacking her husband on the arm. "me and angela are the only people allowed to send her on dates, you hear me?"

"yes, susie." the three drivers said in unison, laughing among themselves.

y/n already felt better.

"hey, y/n," george offered. "we were all about to go for a night out, lewis was taking us bowling, we were probably also going to get some pizza or something. did you want to come with us? i'd hate for you to go home sad."

y/n smiled. "actually, yeah. i'd like that a lot."

"come on, then!" susie smiled, helping y/n up from the rock and putting her arm around the younger girl. "you look like you need some girl time."

"oi, susie!" nyck shouted with a laugh. "don't go stealing her from us now!"

and suddenly, even if it was just for a night, she felt like things were going to be okay again.

maybe she wasn't as lonely as she thought she was.

maybe she wasn't on her own after all.

[yeoosaangg]

Swim || Kinktober - Day 21

pairing ▸ zhong chenle × f!reader

now playing ▸ swim - chase atlantic

⤷ ❝you picked a dance with the devil, and you lucked out.❞

genre ▸ idol au, secret relationship, smut

warnings ▸ impact play, fingering, spitting, throat fucking, gagging, praise, degradation, choking, semi-public sex

--------

You should've known this would happen.

All you did was apologize to Enhypen's Lee Heeseung for bumping into him at an award show. All the fans went crazy at the public interaction, even if it was accidental.

His hand only held your waist for a second before you went your separate ways.

But your boyfriend doesn't care. Another man's hands were on you and that automatically set off his jealousy. But he knew better than to act impulsively.

So he waited.

After your solo performance, you notice your styling team didn't accompany you inside. You shrug, deciding to change yourself.

You're completely bare when you're being pressed against your mirror rather harshly. You panic, attempting to scream until a familiar man whispers into your ear.

Chenle: I love seeing you like this. All vulnerable for me.

Y/n: What's going on? Shouldn't you be sitting with your group members?

Chenle: What was that out there, hm?

Y/n: What are you talking about?

Chenle: Heeseung.

Y/n: Nothing happened. I just didn't see him standing there when rushing back from the restroom.

He hums, kissing the back of your shoulders. You moan lowly when he rubs his growing bulge against you.

His hand then wraps around your throat, pulling you back into his chest. A surprised gasp of pain escapes your lips as he squeezes tightly.

Chenle: You are mine, doll. You know that, right?

You nod profusely.

He chuckes darkly as he watches the mirror fog up with how hot he's making you feel.

Chenle: If you ever let another man fucking touch you again, I'll kill him and lock you up in our room. Do you understand, darling?

Y/n: I understand.

He loosens his grip on you, letting you turn around to face him. He picks you up and properly sits you down on the vanity.

His hands run up and down your thighs before he lightly smacks them. You moan as he massages the sting away.

Chenle: Remember that talk we had about impact play?

You nod.

Chenle: How about I ask you some questions before I engage in such punishment.

Y/n: Okay.

He smiles, kissing your entire face while his hands continue to massage your thighs. You wish he'd move them higher, but you'll be patient.

Chenle: Have you had any experience with impact play before?

Y/n: No. You're my first everything.

He doesn't realize how much that affects him until his dick twitches in his pants. He hastily gets naked to avoid a wet patch from forming.

The stylists would have his head.

Chenle: Where do you want me to hit you?

Y/n: Ass, legs, boobs, pussy and thighs.

Judging by how you reacted to his light smack earlier, he was expecting you to say your thighs.

Chenle: Answer this while thinking of future scenes. What do you want to be hit with?

Oh.

Well, that's hard. You don't truly know the terminology yet, but you'll try everything if it means he'll be with you through it all.

Y/n: We can figure that out as we progress.

Chenle: How do you feel about marks?

Y/n: I don't mind them as long as they're hidden.

Chenle: Where would you like them?

Y/n: I guess my ass and boobs? No one other than you can see me naked, anyway.

He kisses you in adoration. He knows you bruise easily, that's why he's asking. He doesn't want to get you in trouble with your company.

Chenle: Do you have any medical concerns I should be aware of?

You shake your head.

Chenle: Do you have any allergies?

Y/n: Latex.

He'll remember that for future purposes. He'll avoid buying products containing latex to not inconvenience you. He wants you healthy at all times.

Chenle: And most importantly: do you want to use a safe word or the stoplight system?

Y/n: The latter.

Chenle: Any non-verbal cues?

Y/n: Two taps on your left elbow.

Chenle: Good girl. Now bend over that couch over there.

He steps away from you, smirking when you do as he says. How cute! You forgot this was a punishment. He'll make sure you remember that.

Chenle: We'll start with spanking and work our way up. Think you can handle it?

Y/n: Yes, Master.

He bites back a moan. This is the first time you call him that, ever.

He fucking loves it.

Chenle: I never thought I'd hear you call me that so soon, doll. But, fuck, that's so hot. Do it again.

Y/n: Spank me, Master.

He presses his cock to your dripping cunt, running it up and down your folds. He pushes you forward and spreads your ass cheeks before slamming his hand on your flesh.

You don't even care where you're at right now. All you can focus on is your boyfriend and his hands turning your ass red.

Chenle: God, you look beautiful like this.

He leans down to kiss your asshole, making you jerk forward.

Y/n: Please don't tease me, Master.

Chenle: Quiet, slut. This is still your punishment.

You hear him grab his belt, rubbing against your burning skin.

Chenle: Ready?

You nod, screaming when the leather leaves a long red mark across the back of your thighs. He continues to hit you with his belt the louder your moans get.

Y/n: Master, it feels good.

Chenle: Yeah? What's your color?

Y/n: Green.

He smacks you again, the leather brushing against your cunt. You gasp at the feeling, crying from the pain. But it feels so good.

He rubs the crimson flesh with his hands, leaving kisses in his wake.

Chenle spits on your pussy, running his finger up and down, circling your clit.

Y/n: Want it inside.

Chenle: Do you now? Think you can take my cock in your mouth while I play with your pretty cunt?

Y/n: Yes, Master.

He smirks and kneels in front of you, ass arched even more as he shoves his cock into your mouth with no warning.

He starts thrusting his hips against your face while three of his fingers work you open. His free hand lands a few slaps against your ass while his knuckles disappear inside you.

Your eyes tear up, but you avoid gagging by inhaling through your nose as slowly as you can. You make sure your tongue glides against the underside of his dick.

You try your best to reach up and massage his balls, but with how brutal he's abusing your mouth and pussy... It was becoming difficult.

You begin to squirm and whine the closer he brings you to an orgasm.

Chenle: Are you close, pet?

You choke on your moan at the name. It sounds good coming from him. But you shake your head, too embarrassed to admit you're already gonna cum.

A scream is muffled when he increases his speed on both sides, smirking to himself as he stares into the mirror. This way, he sees his fingers being swallowed by your tight cunt.

Chenle: That's it, baby. Feels good, doesn't it? Just needed a little more help, hm?

That's all it takes for you to squirt on his fingers and taste his cum down your throat.

You thought that was it when he pulls away from you, but he pulls you with him and guides you onto his lap.

Chenle: Your thighs are shaking so much already.

He smacks them hard, eliciting a pornographic moan from you. He then lightly smacks your tits.

Y/n: Fuck!

Chenle: You're so fucking sexy, my little cocksleeve. Now sit on my cock.

You grab his shaft and instantly sit down all the way, screaming at how full you feel.

Y/n: Master, you're so big.

Chenle: You're still so tight. Guess I've got a lot of work to do, doll.

He grabs your hips and slams you up and down. Your tits bounce in his face, so he catches your nipple in his mouth. You scream his name repeatedly in pure bliss.

Chenle: You look the most beautiful like this, my slut. Let everyone walking down the hallway know what a cock hungry whore you are.

You try to answer, but your brain is mush and the only sounds you can make are moans ans whimpers.

Chenle: Your pussy feels so warm, love. The way your gummy walls squeeze my cock has me wanting to cum inside you.

You clench around him at the idea.

Come to think of it, this is his first time fucking you without wearing a condom. His jealousy must've clouded his mind a lot.

Chenle: Yeah, that's right. Take my fucking dick. I'm yours and you're mine. And it'll stay that way.

You nod, not being able to speak. Having sex with him gets better and better the more you explore your likes and dislike.

And, fuck, you like this so much.

You could get caught any second now, but that's the exciting part. Somebody walking in and seeing Chenle destroy your pussy sounds hot.

His thrusts ar getting rougher, so you try to pull away, but he pulls you back with a grunt.

Chenle: Don't fucking run from me, doll. I know damn well how much you want me to ruin you.

You bury your head in his neck, letting him rut into you as he pleases. He kisses the back of your ear and watches you moan from how good he's pounding your poor cunt.

Chenle: Just relax for me. I'll make you feel good.

Your body feels so numb, yet so much at the same time. You've never experienced such a rush from getting fucked by your boyfriend before, but you like it.

Chenle: On your knees and open your mouth.

He stops thrusting so you can hop off and kneel in front of him. He pumps his cock a few times before cumming all over your tongue and chin.

Chenle: Fuck, baby. I love you so much.

You swallow his cum, licking the rest from your hands after you wipe it off.

Y/n: Tired.

He brings you up on the couch, throwing your legs over his lap and hugging you into his side.

Chenle: You and I are ditching the rest of the award show.

Y/n: What?! Lele, we're both nominated for the big awards tonight. It'll look suspicious if our respective groups have a missing member.

He smiles at you, kissing your temple. He knows the risks, but he's not going to let you go immediately after having sex without aftercare.

Chenle: Let's go public, princess.

Y/n: Wait, what? Where'd that come from?

You kiss along his jaw as he massages your body to calm the shaking down a bit.

Chenle: As much as I love our secret meetings, I just can't do it anymore. My jealousy gets worse the more you're shipped with someone else.

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and look him in the eyes as he continues talking.

Chenle: Everytime you and I have overlapping schedules, I get so happy because then I get to see you. Even if it's for two minutes in a supply closet.

You laugh remembering your last comeback. It was hard to even sneak in there with all the staff running around the place.

Chenle: You don't even know how bad I want to kiss you in front of everyone whenever we have the privilege to stand on a stage together.

You feel that way, too.

Chenle: Like that one time at the end of the year festival? You stood next to me and I had to fight off every urge to hold your hand. It gets so painful the more I have to hold back.

Y/n: I know, baby. I feel the same way, too.

Chenle: And I honestly don't give a fuck about the fans' opinions. What matters is that I love you with my entire body and soul.

You kiss all over his face, a huge smile spread across both of your faces.

Y/n: Let's do it then.

Chenle: Really?

You nod, kissing him deeply.

Y/n: Really.

---

a/n: i'm gonna kms... i have the biggest soft spot for chenle, yet here i am writing this. god, the delulu in me needs to calm down!!! thanks for reading ‹𝟹

[thetriumphantpanda]

Hi! Are you still taking prompts? You’re one of my favorite writers lately and I’m wondering if you’re still taking requests…

If so can I ask for “i’ve been thinking about you all day“ & “shh. there’s people in the other room.“ with Joel Miller. Semi-public where they do it in the bathroom with people outside. Maybe they even get caught whatever you like and make it as freaky as you want 🥵

Thank you so much! 💖

Hello Anon! Thank you so much for sending this in and for such kind words, I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing! 🫶🏼 This was such a perfect prompt pairing for our man Joel - I really enjoyed writing this!! I hope you do too! Hopefully it's freaky enough for you! 😘

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 1.8k

Warnings | Kinda public sex, unprotected PiV sex (Honestly guys unless it's the end of the world, wrap it up), just Joel being a general menace really, tiny return to mirror sex (is this now a thing?). SMUTTY SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

You’d been thinking about Joel all day and judging by the way he was currently staring at you from across the room, he’d been doing the same. You’d woken up too late that morning to indulge in what was quickly becoming a morning ritual of getting each other off in bed before you went about your daily tasks. He’d tried to blame the tiredness on you, but when you’d retorted that if he’d stopped at making you come twice with his mouth, instead of insisting on three times and then the two more he’d coaxed from you whilst he was buried deep inside you, you’d have been asleep at a reasonable time. Not even Joel Miller could argue with that. 

The party was in full swing at The Tipsy Bison – It had become a weekly occurrence on a Friday evening for as many people as possible to gather in the bar and toast making it another week through the end of the world. You were leant against the bar, only half-listening to what the girls around you were talking about, eyes trained on Joel who was doing pretty much the same as you, half-listening to Tommy and the other people around him, sipping at whiskey with his eyes never leaving you or your body. 

You can tell you’re both playing a game, wanting to know which one of you is going to break first and drag the other one home. You want him to break first, it’s always you. Whilst you have his eyes on you, you lift your own glass of whiskey to your lips, pulling it away too soon on purpose, letting a drop of the amber liquid pool on your bottom lip. You stare him straight in the eye over the crowd as you drag your tongue across your lip, biting into it a little for good measure. You can see the smirk on his mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing. 

You watch as he rests a hand on the back of the chair next to him. He bends to set his empty glass on the table and then he stands back up, hip popped in his usual stance, fingers stuck through his belt loop. He knows you love it when he stands like this, even better if it’s leant up against the doorway to your bedroom. You curse at the fact that you've lost this battle, yet again.

“Excuse me ladies.” You smile at the group around you, leaving your half-finished drink on the bar. 

You slink through the crowd before you come to a stop next to him, greeting Tommy and the rest of the men in his group with a small smile and a ‘hello’. You snake your arm around his waist, pressing the side of your body to his. To anyone else it looks innocent enough, but then they can’t see your hand slipping into the back pocket of his jeans. Joel looks down at you, eye glazed dark with lust as his free arm comes to rest along your shoulders. Everyone else is deep in conversation around you, not really noticing you. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” You say quietly, just loud enough for him to catch. 

“is that so, darlin’?” He replied, southern drawl more prominent thanks to the whiskey in his system, “What were you thinkin’ about, specifically?” 

Your hand in his back pocket squeezes the meat of his ass, “Was thinking about being able to get you home, strip you down and have my way with you.” 

“That so?” His eyebrow raises, you’re always surprised by how he can act so nonchalant like this in public, even with your hands all over him, “Well darlin’, I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day too, but I don’t think we need to go all the way home to get what we want.” 

Your eyes widen at his suggestion. He wouldn’t, would he? Find somewhere here that he could fuck you? But the more you think about it, the more you realise that exactly what he would do and that’s exactly what he’s talking about. His arm drops from your shoulders, drags your hand from his jeans pocket and then he’s dragging you away from the group, not even bothering to mumble an excuse. 

It's busy enough in the bar that no-one really notices his purposeful strides through them. No-one notices when you slink by the side of the bar and down the small hallway. No-one is around to see him push you into the small bathroom and lock the door behind you. 

Your back is pressed against the wall and he’s on you in seconds once he’s sure no-one is going to burst in through the door. His hands are cupping your cheeks, it’s a softness that is completely opposite to the way his lips are moving against yours. They’re pressed to yours almost painfully, your hands are gripping the lapels of his jacket to pull him closer to you, if it were even possible. 

You open your mouth against his and all at once his tongue is in your mouth. The taste of him is overwhelming, whiskey mainly, but the telltale taste that’s just Joel. Your tongue is on his and at this point you don’t know where you end and he begins, it’s always so overwhelming. His hands drop from your face to hold your hips through the denim of your jeans. His mouth is pulling from yours and you’re whining at the loss of contact. 

“We don’t have much time, darlin’,” He muses, turning you so your front is facing the sink of the bathroom, there’s a small mirror in which you can see you both, “We gotta be quick, okay?” You nod, “And quiet.” 

You nod again, and then he’s reaching around and undoing the button of your jeans, pulling the zipper down before he’s yanking them and your underwear down to your ankles. 

“Touch yourself for me,” He demands as he moves back from you, you follow his orders and dip your fingers down to your pussy, you’re already slick, “Tell me how wet you are for me alright.” 

“Joel-” You moan as you bring the gathered slick up to rub circles on your clit, “I’m soaked for you baby.” 

“Of course you are,” you watch as he grins at you in the mirror, hearing him undo his belt, “You always are.” 

You can hear him shedding his own jeans behind you and excitement pools in your belly, he really is going to fuck you in the bathroom with people just a few feet away. You feel his hands palm the globes of your ass, before one of them dips to your pussy, testing your claim that you’re soaked for him. 

“You weren’t lyin’ were you?” He chuckles as he pushed two fingers inside of you, eliciting a loud moan from your mouth as the intrusion mixes with the pleasure of your fingers on your clit, “Shhhh. There are people in the other room, baby.” 

“It’s hard, Joel.” You whimper, referencing the need to be quiet. 

“It certainly is darlin’,” You’re watching him in the mirror as you feel his cock nudge at your weeping entrance, “All because of you.” 

“I wasn’t-” You try and talk, but he’s already sliding the tip of his cock inside you, “Ohhhh fuck Joel.”

“You like that, darlin’?” He asks once he’s fully sheathed in your tight heat, you lift your head and catch his eyes in the mirror, your mouth is hanging open as he starts moving out of you, “You look like you do.” He fucking winks at you then and you swear you almost die on the spot. 

“Oh my god Joel just fuck me already.” You’re begging now and one of his hands flies to your mouth to cover it. 

“What did I say about bein’ quiet?!” He hisses into your ear, “You gotta keep your mouth shut if I’m gonna have to stop darlin’, you understand?” Another nod from you. 

His hand doesn’t leave your mouth, but he starts a punishing pace of thrusts into you from behind. It’s your favourite position, Joel always seems to reach as deep as is humanely possible when he takes you from behind and tonight is no exception. You can feel him hitting that sweet spot inside of you, add that to the circles you haven’t ceased drawing on your clit and you’re close. So very close. 

“Joel-” You mumble against the palm of his hand, he moves it slightly so he can hear you, “I’m so fucking close.” 

He chuckles again, still thrusting his cock inside you before he speaks, “Don’t hold back on my account.” 

It’s all the permission you needed, his palm straight back over your mouth as you fall over the edge. You can feel your pussy fluttering around him as you rub yourself through the aftershocks of your orgasm and you can hear his own grunts from behind you. It’s always like this, once your tight heat is clenching around him he’s never far behind you. 

“Darlin’, you feel so fucking good like this,” He whispers into your ear, “Gonna come for you baby.” 

Another moan, yet again muffled by the skin of his palm. You groan at the emptiness you feel when he’s pulling from your pussy, you know he’s fisting his cock behind you and within seconds you can feel the warmth of his cum spreading over your backside – thick ropes of it painting your skin as he lowly groans out your name. 

There’s always a moment like this with the two of you, in the moments after you’ve both tipped yourselves into oblivion, when you’re silent save for the heaving of you both trying to catch your breath. This time it’s interrupted by someone trying the handle of the door and then loudly knocking on it. 

“Gimme a minute!” Joel calls out, moving quickly to gather some paper towels from behind him. 

He’s usually softer with this part, but he’s running the towels quickly over your skin to wipe the remnants of his spend from your skin. Then he’s roughly pulling your jeans up – you catch them halfway and finish dressing yourself whilst he does the same behind you. You’re about to reach for the lock on the door when his hand catches your wrist. 

He’s pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, letting his hand softly run through your hair, “I promise I’ll take my time with you later, darlin’,” He’s smiling before letting your wrist go, “Ladies first.” 

You silently groan as you unlock the door and pull the door open. There’s a man stood against the wall that you don’t recognize, maybe he’s knew – what an impression to make. His eyes widen in realization when he sees Joel follow you out of the bathroom with a grin on his face, “Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” He’s grinning like the cat that got the cream, “Enjoy the rest of your night.” 

“Enjoy the rest of your night?” You’re hissing as you walk back into the main room of the bar, “You’re such a dick sometimes.” 

“What?” He’s laughing now, “I know I’ll enjoy mine, just wanted to make sure he did too.” 

[petitprincess1]

Radio Rebel (name pending?) AU

(This is me just testing the waters of how this will be received. Might make a full story or, at least, a combination of ficlets. It all depends on the interaction. Now, join me in: What if Alastor Joined The Vees)

~~~

Annoying murmuring and blubbering happening near me. That buzzing from the hot overhead lights that are constantly in my eyes. That second one from the right. It's always flickering. Pestering me. I asked for it to get fixed and no one did a damn thing!

The blathering is getting louder, making my ears twitch at the noise. I'm sure no one in the audience is caring at all. That one skimpy-dressed rabbit is just taking pictures of herself. That light is still flickering. More twitching! More buzzing! More and more monotony! When will this fuc-

"MR. RADIO DEMON!"

Alastor left out from his thoughts upon the sudden shouting. He blinked back into reality and looked around the talk show set that he was on. The hardwood desk he was sitting in front of, the plush chairs, wooden flooring, and, yes, the guest! He cleared his throat, pushed back his shortened hair, and smiled too widely, "Ah, yes, sorry about that, my dear! It's lovely having you back on air! How's your husband?"

The Sinner stared at him with teary eyes before muttering, "Dead....sir...."

Blink. Blink. "Ah," that was all Al could muster before a loud ringing shocked his system. The Sinner began tearing up again as makeup artists rushed over to her to begin cleaning her up. Alastor watched as the "live studio audience" went off to do...whatever the hell it is that they do.

The deer demon leaned back against his chair, adjusting his tight necktie, and let out a loud sigh. His smile was much smaller as he stared at the lights that tormented him and beat down with their senseless heat. This is supposed to be Hell, and yet why is this the only time he feels as if he's being tormented by flames?

A sudden rush of static coursed up Alastor’s spine, making his ears rise in alert and hair slightly rise. He sat up slightly straighter as a bolt of neon blue electricity shot down in front of his desk. Within the blink of an eye, the pure energy formed into his.....business partner. Al greeted, "Good morning, Vox! Judging by your twitching brow, I take it you saw this stunning broadcast?"

Vox's twitched brow suddenly stopped as a large, "friendly" grin appeared on his flat face. He chimed back leaning onto Alastor's desk, "That's right~ And I gotta say, Al....that was absolutely the worst fucking thing that I ever could've seen! So, would you kindly explain what exactly that was...please?"

The rad- deer demon stood up from his desk and scoffed, straightening out his jacket, "Oh, it's nothing, my friend. Just simply was distracted by that light that I told you many times that keeps flickering. You did say that you'd eventually look into it, but I didn't think that meant our entire undead lives! Hahaha!"

A distorted, broken-down laugh track came from Alastor. The TV host just blinked at Al and was very unamused by his humor. However, he just wrapped an elbow around the, now-stiffened, deer as he chuckled humorlessly. Vox patted his chest, "Now, now, Alastor. This isn't just an isolated incident. I'd be perfectly fine, but...this is like the 10th time this week and that makes me worry for you."

He pulled away from Al, kept him arms-length, and with his hands on the cervidae's shoulders. He sighed, "Come on, buddy. This is a safe place. No need to hold back on your partner, right?"

Alastor corrected, removing Vox's hands from his person, "Business partner. Also, I'm sorry that I don't exactly care for whatever woes someone wishes to force onto me."

"Well, yeah, no shit! No one cares for what that fucking COW says!" Vox shouted, turning his head towards the bovine Sinner. The widow wept as she ran off the set, forcing the lackeys to chase her down. The smaller Overlord took another breath as he took Alastor by the hand and made him sit down in his armchair.

He went behind the demon, dropped his arms down Al's chest, and whispered near his ear, "Are you still mad at me, Al~?"

Alastor's eye twitched as his smile widened into a grimace as he tilted his head away from Vox. The TV demon snickered lowly as he hummed, "I was right, wasn't I? Come on now. Don't be upset. We made a consented deal that would benefit both of us. We work together on this. Your happiness is my happiness and your pain is mine~"

Al felt a nip on his ear that made a loud screeching sound abrupt from him. He suddenly stood up and hit Vox in the face, causing the other's screen to turn to static in shock. The deer Overlord immediately moved away from the other as he casually continued the conversation, "Yes, yes, I'm aware. It's just that I don't see why exactly I need to do...this mundane garbage. Even though I am not a fan, a simple podcast is much closer to my style. Don't you agree?"

It took a few seconds for Vox's screen to turn back to normal before he groaned in annoyance. He rolled his eyes before stating, "Yeah, of course it is. However, you don't exactly see many people lining up to sell their souls for that shit. Well, unless you count those who are middle-aged or singles wanting to be raw-dogged by the next serial killer. You don't get to see and experience the desperation on wayward's souls faces! And, besides, how many can say they've been in the same room as the radio demon~?"

"I actually feel like more could-"

"Shut up. It was rhetorical," the object head cut Al off before he went onto his phone. Alastor tried to peer over his shoulder, but another unnerving shock went up his spine and caused him to move back. Vox smirked at the obedience before he turned around and said, "Alright, fine. How's about this? Why don't you take some time off, ay? You know, clear your mind and get some air.....until you're back on by ten, that is. I'm sure all of this can be resolved after, I don't know, getting something to eat or whatever."

Alastor's ears flattened against his head as he started, smile becoming small once more, "I actually haven't been-"

"ROTTEN BITCH-!!"

Both Vox and Al were shocked by various shouting and crashing going on above them. The TV demon growled in frustration at the nuisance. He told Alastor, "Hold that thought. Someone's being an obnoxious prick, yet again."

Vox turned around to cup Alastor’s cheek, making the other's ear twitch. His thumb rubbed against his grayed skin before he suddenly turned into electricity that traveled through the various cables on the floor. Al just shuddered once he was alone and muttered, "Pompous prick..."

(That's all you get, for right now. There's still more to this first chapter! Lmk what you guys think! Reblogs are very much appreciated :3c)

[rafedaddy01]

a request!! love your writing bebsss ❤️✨

rafe cameron x f!reader where reader has many insecurities abt her body and she cries to sarah abt them but she doesnt tell her that she has been starving herself, until a pool party where she and rafe are invited where she faints after not having eaten in days and then rafe is like super worried and fluffy and he is taking her to the hospital bc she doesnt wake up. when theyre at the hospital they tell him that she doesnt have food in her system and he is like super worried and when she wakes up he is so happy and he talks to her abt it and tells her how much he loves her and how beautiful she is and maybe she takes her home and it ends with smut? thank you!! ❤️❤️

Notes: aww, thank you so much babes. Sorry it took a while to get this to you

You stood in front of the mirror, examining your body. You hated the way you looked. Too much, too little, you could never get the perfect body like all the other girls you saw. You heaved a great sign and put on the baggy sweater over your scrawny body and a pair of black leggings. You and Sarah were meeting tonight and you were a little never because you haven’t seen her in a while.

“Hey!” The bright girl beamed at you as you walked into her bedroom. “Oh my god I missed you!” She said tossing her perfectly tanned arms around your skinny body. “I missed you too” you said wrapping her in a hug.

“Hey.. you doin okay?” She said scrunching her eyebrows as she examined your baggy eyes that drooped with exhaust.

“I-I’m fine” you said feeling the tears starting.

“Y/n” Sarah said in a tone that meant she knew something was up and she demanded an answer.

You sighed. You wanted to tell her, tell her everything. How you were starving yourself for weeks now, how you haven’t slept because your stomach would hurt form being deprived food and how you’d cry almost every hour of the day. You couldn’t hold on anymore and broke down hysterically.

Sarah wrapped her arms around you as you rested your head on her shoulder and stained her dress in tears. “I-I’m s-sorry” you hiccuped as tears and snot surfaced your face and Sarah’s dress.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong” she said.

“I-I’ve just been struggling. I can’t help but feel ugly. I see all these pretty girls with perfect body’s and when I look in the mirror I hate myself and the way I look. I-I just don’t know what’s wrong with me!” You said in almost one breath as more tears streamed down your face.

You decided not to tell her how you’ve been starving yourself and throwing up so your body doesn’t gain calories because you didn’t want to be judged. Sarah most likely wouldn’t, but it was just a dirty secret you didn’t want exposed. She had a perfect body, she wouldn’t understand..

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with you. Your perfect the way you are, do you hear me? Your beautiful and strong and my brother is madly in love with you! Im so glad you could open up to me about this, but I don’t want you to hate yourself, I love you y/n and you need to start learning to love yourself, I’ll help you with whatever you need” she smiled as she stroked your back and comforted you.

The rest of the night was spent with Sarah comforting you and watching movies and snacking on ice cream and junk food. It was the most food you’ve eaten in days, you felt disgusted with yourself but you didn’t want Sarah to think something was up so you ate little by little.

The next day Rafe and you were invited to a pool party at toppers house, you spent the day with Sarah and when night came the two of you changed into swimsuits and met Rafe downstairs so you all could drive over to toppers.

“You look beautiful my love” Rafe said leaning over the console and placing a kiss to your cheek just as you all pulled up to toppers. “Ew, get a room you too” Sarah said opening the back door and walking away. You and Rafe laughed as you climbed out of the car and Rafe intertwined your fingers and walked to the pool.

You felt guilty having these insecurities when you had such a thoughtful man that loved you. You hadn’t eaten all week, besides for the junk food binge you had with Sarah, but that wasn’t enough to fill you up. At this point you trained your stomach not to grumble but you felt hunger you just ignored it.

Rafe went to mingle and you were left standing by the pool with a drink in hand. The music was loud and suddenly your vision blurred the voices and music distorted as your eyes rolled back and you plunged into the pool infront of you. The rest was a blur

You woke up in the hospital, confused. Rafes intense gaze held yours and your heart sank at the worry on this man’s face, the man you loved. All that guilt came rushing back. “W-what happened?” You croaked out as your throat itched

Rafe stood up and placed a straw in front of your lips encouraging you to take small sips. “Thank you” you said.

“You fainted y/n, doctor said you’d be fine but..” he said as he stared at you with so much love and concern

“But what?” You said.

“He said you have to stop starving yourself” Rafes voice was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him “why y/n? I don’t understand.. is- is it something I did or do?” Rafe struggled to understand

“No Rafe, I love you. And I’m sorry I worried you, I’m sorry I let it get this far. I-I just..” you didn’t know how to make him understand

“I just, sometimes I hate the way I look. I look in the mirror and I’m disgusted, I starve myself because I hate myself, my body” you said with a lump in your throat

Rafe rushed to your side and cupped your face as his thumb wiped the tears off your cheeks.

“Baby, I love you. I love you so so much, and I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were feeling this way. I never want you to think about yourself like that” he kissed your lips softly as a sob escaped your lips. He pressed your body against his chest and you cried, but you also felt relief. The doctor eventually came and explained some things that might help and discharged you with Rafes promise of taking care of you and making sure you eat.

The two of you went home and Rafe made you some chicken noodle soup, he fed you and cuddled you into bed. The two of you watched a movie in each others arms.

Rafe ran his fingers up and down your arm, he left kisses on your neck that had your body heating up.

Your cheeks flushed as his kisses became more aggressive, leaving some marks and bites.

The next thing you knew Rafes head was under the covers and his lips were wrapped around your clit as your body squirmed and your mouth said such profanities you’d only hear in a porno.

He made you cum so hard with his tongue and planted kisses up your stomach to your face “I’m gonna show you just how sexy your body is” he said as he slipped free of his sweats and discarded the rest of your clothes.

Rafe had a mirror placed perfectly at the bed and he propped you up so he was behind you and your face was facing the mirror “watch how beautiful you are y/n” Rafe whispered as he stroked your back and rubbed his tip against your folds.

“Fuck” you said under your breath as he slowly pushed inside you.

Rafe groaned as he halted, balls deep. Only to retract and slam back into you. “Shitttt” he groaned “holy fuck y/n, you feel so good”

“Fuck! Rafe!” You moaned as you watched him pound into you from behind in the mirror.

He spent the rest of the night showing you how gorgeous you were and worshipping your body in extravagant ways. You vowed never to starve yourself again unless you wanted to limp for days, because Rafe would show you just how much he appreciated your body with his fingers, mouth and cock.

You promised him that if you ever had thoughts of starving yourself or any hateful feelings towards yourself that you’d talk to him about it. Your heart swelled at the love you had for this man, he was perfect for you and you him. He’d always be there for you and you felt guilty for ever thinking he’d judge you for your insecurities. He meant every word he said about being there for you and worshipping you, he never stopped showing his love for you.

Rafe Cameron was madly in love with you and you were madly in love with him.

He’d spend the rest of his years proving to you that your worth it, and he did good to his promise. He will never stop loving you.

“I fucking love you” he groaned as his hips rutted into you and he released his love deep inside you, it wasn’t about rough sex for Rafe anymore. He spent time with you and he made love to your body.

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism

[howlingday]

Nora Finds Fear

Based on OSP's retelling of "The Boy Who Found Fear At Last"

Mama Valkyrie: (Screams)

Nora: Mommy? Why are you screaming?

Mama Valkyrie: The wind blew the door open, and it scared me!

Nora: It... scared you? What's scared?

Mama Valkyrie: Well, um, it's like a really bad feeling you get when you think something bad is going to happen to you.

Nora: Like what?

Mama Valkyrie: It's worse if you don't know.

Nora: That's dumb.

Nora: (Leaves without saying good-bye)

Mama Valkyrie: (No longer in this story)

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

Nora: (Sees mountain in the distance) Ooh~!

Nora: (Hears laughter, Squeezes between bandits)

Raven: And that's when I stabbed him! (Bandits laugh)

Nora: What are you guys talking about? (Bandits scream)

Raven: If you're looking for fear, then I'm afraid you've found it! (Draws Omen)

Nora: Really? Where?

Raven: ...

Raven: (Sulks)

Shay: There, there, boss. You're still very terrifying.

Vernal: Uh, there's a graveyard nearby you could try. Here, bake this cake while you're down there.

Nora: Thanks~!

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

Nora: (Baking cake in a cemetery)

Pyrrha: (Reaches out) IS... THAT... FOR... ME?

Nora: Nope! (Whacks hand with spoon) Dead people can't eat cake.

Nora: (Takes cake, Leaves)

Raven: (Still sulking)

Shay: Look, boss. The weird girl brought cake. You should try it.

Vernal: Uh... There's a spooky pool of water on the other side of the mountain.

Nora: Ooh! I like the sound of that!

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

Jaune: (Crying on a swing set over pool)

Nora: Huh...

Saphron: Please! You have to help my baby brother!

Nora: I do?

Saphron: Here, let me get on your shoulders so I can reach him!

Nora: Okay. (Saphron stands on shoulders) Just let me know when you got him. (Saphron pushes down) OOGH! S-Stop it! (Throws her) Alright, I'm done! Hm? Ooh! Shiny white bracelet!

Nora: (Takes bracelet from the ground, Jaune and Saphron disappear) Hey, problem solved~!

Nora: (Wanders into town)

Blake: Hey. I'm an unexpected reminder of the casual occurrence of faunism in historical literature. That's my one personality trait, and also that bracelet is mine.

Nora: Tell it to the judge!

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

Ironwood: You claim you "won it from a ghost". And your claim is...

Blake: I'm a sneaky and conniving trickster and boy do I hate humans.

Ironwood: Uh huh... Well, seeing as both claims are so far-fetched, despite being an old fairy tale of dated historical relevance, I have no choice but to hold onto this bracelet until I can be provided with a bracelet just like this one to prove ownership.

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

Nora: (Unfazed by complex legal system, Still no fear) Stupid judge...

Nora: (Sees ship sinking with people screaming) Ooh~!

Nora: (Swims over) What's the matter? Are you guys stuck? (Screamed at) Uh... Okay, I'll take a look!

Nora: (Dives, Sees Weiss dragging boat down)

Nora: (Punches woman, Ties her up)

Weiss: What just happened?!

Nora: (Gurgles, Blurgles)

Nora: (Swims up) Okay! Try her again!

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

Nora: (In an enchanted forest)

Nora: (Experiencing whimsy) Is this existential dread?

Nora: Huh? (Sees three birds flying nearby, Watches birds transform)

Saphron: You will not believe the night I had!

Pyrrha: Try me, sister.

Weiss: So, there was this bird~.

Pyrrha: (Pours drink) A toast to the brave girl who smacked my hand away when I was coming out of my grave!

Saphron: (Raises drink) A toast to the fearless girl who threw me off of her shoulders when I tried to drown her!

Weiss: (Swigs drink) And a toast to the weird girl who swam to the bottom of the ocean to fight me IRL.

Nora: DO YOU- Stop screaming- Do you have another bracelet?

Saphron: (Leads to enchanted treasure hall) Are you sure you don't want anything else?

Nora: (Walking away with bracelet) Nah, I'm good!

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

Nora: READ IT AND WEEP, OLD MAN!

Ironwood: I will do no such thing.

Nora: (Walking away happily with bracelets, Sees crowd) What's going on?

Oscar: We're about to have a new king!

Nora: Does that happen a lot?

Oscar: ...No. Anyway, since the king died with no heirs, we have a foolproof plan to determine who our next king will be! See, a pigeon will be released from the top of the castle wall, and whoever it lands on will become our new king!

Nora: Wow! That's so much better than a democratically elected system! Huh? (Pigeon lands on her) Oh. Would you look at that?

Oscar: ALL HAIL THE KING! (Crowd cheers)

Suddenly, Nora feels something. Sees something. She peers into a window of the future, one most uncomfortable. She was bound to a throne, tied by a sense of obligation and responsibility, and forced to spend the rest of her life trying and failing to make the poor richer, the hungry satiated, and the bad better. Never again would she have her freedom to wander and do as she pleased. Nora's chest became tighter, and her breathing shallower. Her vision began to blur as tears filled her eyes and spilled over from her cheeks. Her heart began to ache so much, she brought a hand to where it tried to rest, and found her arm, her fingers shaking with this strange new emotion! Was... Was this the fear she sought?

Robyn: Huh... She doesn't look to happy.

Nora: My carefree lifestyle! My free time! My vibes!

Qrow: We gotta reassure her! RELEASE MORE PIGEONS!

Nora: (Sobbing, Covered in pigeons) Thanks, you guys... I'm good now... (Crowd cheers)

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

'Hey, wait up Mammon!' Asmodeus flagged the second-born down, huffing pitifully at having to do so much as jog to catch up with him. 'Have you seen MC? I'm pretty sure they said they'd be in the library right now with Belphie to make sure he didn't fall asleep.'

'Nah. Walked to RAD with 'em this morning 'n' lost 'em in Satan's class.' Mammon drawled casually. 'Human was moody as hell today, said they slept like shit.'

'Oh, poor dear. Maybe I should-'

Asmodeus stopped mid sentence and Mammon's smooth gait stuttered. Their pacts flared, flooded with seething, cold ire.

The two demons shared a look. 'Did you?' Asked Asmo.

Mammon nodded once, face set in a firm line, deadly serious. 'Sure did.'

That ire came with a tether, pulling them both toward the courtyard, where demons are slowly gathering, looking at the open doors as raised voices flooded through.

The gathering crowd parted for the avatars of Lust and Greed and they reached the door just as a very familiar voices yelled out in a very unfamiliar tone.

'You will not speak to me like that!'

MC's icy growl was a far cry from the human they're familiar with, the human who never raises their voice, who keeps a cool head and argues with logic and calm.

'I am not here for you to marvel at, not here for your fucking entertainment!' MC seethed, and they round to their human on the face of another demon, both of them with hackles raised and eyes burning.

Lucifer's pact mask bobbed on their throat with every breath, and they could swear they saw the glow of the other pacts beneath MC's uniform.

'Do you not realise how easy you are to replace?!' Seethed the demon. 'Just another human in the mess.'

'At least I'm not afraid of my next breath.' MC snapped. 'Keep your thoughts to yourself, nobody asked you your fucking opinion!'

'Why you-!'

'Oh piss off already. I'm done with you.' MC snapped, spinning on their heel and shoving through the gathered crowd, they didn't notice Asmo or Mammon watching, let alone Beel and Lucifer who'd overheard the last few words.

Beel was quick at their heels, steps eating ground to follow the tug of the pact and leave his brothers to absolutely demolish the demon in his wake. Perhaps literally.

He caught up with MC just as they left RAD, clearly heading home as the massive demon fell into stride beside them. 'Are you alright?'

'I'm fine.' The human puffed, voice cold and distant, eyes pinned straight ahead. 'Sorry. I shouldn't have risen to the argument, it's just an off day.'

'No need to be sorry.' Beel said softly, hoping to ease the tension in their shoulders. 'You're allowed to have feelings, and you're allowed to get mad. I know that demon rubs you the wrong way.'

MC sighed, forcing themselves to relax. 'Still...I don't like feeling this angry.'

'I get it. Do you want to go somewhere? Eat, drink? I'll get Belphie if you want a nap buddy.'

MC paused mid-step, looking at Beel, and then over his shoulder. Of course they wouldn't judge, none of them would ever begrudge MC genuine anger.

They felt seven hearts on the end of the threads binding them to their demons, flooded with concern, pride, righteous anger...

MC smiled, heaving a deep breath as they carried on walking, venting to Beel, who listened happily as they let that anger fade from their system and leave them in peace once more.

[peachymilkandcream]

My Husband, My Monster|Part 8|William Afton x Wife!Reader

(A/N: Just keep in mind the content warnings with these next chapters considering we're going into the gory parts with the murders and such. Hope you enjoy and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

===============================================

William always hated funerals, a bunch of thoughtless people offering condolences as if they were so distraught. He knew that they'd go home and act like nothing had happen. Like he hadn't just lost his youngest child.

He couldn't even look at Henry, deep down he believed it was all his fault. If it wasn't for his damn machines then his son would still be alive. Henry always bragged about being the expert, he should have worked out all the kinks to make sure it was safe for any situation. The smug bastard had the balls to stand there offering his sympathies when his perfectly healthy daughter seemed bored of the whole affair. She wasn't that much older than Evan, life was cheap to a young mind like that. Stupid brat.

Michael had been beyond comfort, he blamed himself for his brother's death. And deep down, William put a portion of the blame on his as well. If he had been well behaved enough to see the dangers of jostling the springlocks like that then none of this would have happened.

Which brought him to his wife. The responsibility of discipline was supposed to be on her shoulders, and she had failed him, plus she had the nerve to be upset about all of this as if it wasn't her to blame as well. She just had to speak with him and leave the children alone. That whining attitude would be stifled when the funeral was over, it was far too annoying to allow.

As for him, he was the only one above blame. He hadn't done anything wrong and was the one who paid the ultimate price. He had lost his child and now he had to deal with all of their smiling faces. Compensation should be made for this disgusting display made by friends and family. In fact he was sure he'd get compensation for it. Everyone would pay for the hell they put him through today, in their own way.

"William are you coming?" His wife gently touched his arm, apparently he had been spacing out so long the funeral was over, all of their "guests" determined to invade their house for promises of free food and gossip.

"No. I'm going out."

"Please don't do this..." She whispers softly.

"Unless you want me to go off on all of our friends then let me go clear my head."

She hesitates, torn between her husband's worrisome behavior and the thoughts of her guests. Finally she sighs, giving up. "Alright William, I'll see you at home."

As William starts walking, he catches a glimpse of Henry and little Charlie returning to their car. He meets William's eyes and offers a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry William, there's a party going on at the Pizzeria and apparently one of the animatronics is acting up. I have to go."

He can only nod numbly, unsure of what he would say to him.

"Hey, I'm sorry about Evan. He was a good kid."

William just nods again, wanting the conversation to be over.

Henry pats him on the shoulder one more time before heading off, a cloud of dust fanning out from under his tires.

William watches him go before continuing to walk. His wife and son could take the car home, the walk was welcome at this point.

Plus the local bar was within walking distance of anywhere.

===============================================

At around ten they cut him off. Fair enough, he had been there since the early afternoon, plus their visitors were probably through judging his wife and home. Although the restlessness still filled him. Something he couldn't shake no matter what he did. Maybe the walk back would work better this time with alcohol in his system.

=============================================

His feet took him unknowingly back to his own business. It seemed he was such a workaholic his base instincts were to return here. Even though following the accident Fredbear's closed for good, he still had the Pizzeria to poor all of his hopes and dreams into.

The rain had since started, soaking his clothes thoroughly, but his head was so full it was like he didn't even notice.

As he got closer he heard the laughter coming from within. They did more business on Friday nights and weekends than the rest of the week so the booked party was in full swing. He watched through the window for a moment or two before turning back into the alleyway, stopping when his eyes caught sight of the child crying against the staff entrance.

Charlotte Emily. Left in the rain because she accidentally got locked out of the back entrance. How dare she cry? What did she have to weep about? A minor inconvenience? And what about her father. Why did a good father like William lose his child when a neglectful one like Henry still had his child alive. None of it was fair. That's all William cared about in the end, not about what was right but what was fair. Henry took everything from him, why shouldn't he return the favor?

Before he knew it his tie was secured in a vice-like grip between his two fists. His hands were shaking, his head buzzing, his stomach in knots from adrenaline and booze.

Slowly he snuck up behind the crying child, hesitating only a moment before wrapping the fabric around her neck. She screamed, but only for a moment as he squeezed tighter and tighter. She fought and struggled but a young girl was no match for a grown man. Soon, her body convulsed and then went limp, her tears drying on her cheeks since her eyes could no longer cry. It was done.

He was a murderer.

The thought should have brought him instant disgust, but instead it brought him a sense of pride. That is, if he could get away with it. He wasn't mentally capable of disposing of the body due to his intoxicated condition, he would most likely slip up. Best to hide the body in the alley and come back tomorrow. Then he would clean up.

That decision taken care of, William decided his best course of action was just to return home for now and sober up.

==============================================

By the time he returned the house was dark. Wife and child in bed, he realized maybe he had been a little too harsh on them. After all, unlike him they didn't have a place to vent their grief, no matter how deserving they were of it he couldn't treat them the same way he did Henry. They were his life, his everything. What they needed instead of lessons was for William to step in and fix everything. His problem was his aggression because he never had a place to put it aside from his family. Right now he was on such a high a violent outburst was the furthest thing from his mind. He just needed to fix his family's problems.

Starting with his wife.

The real reason she was grieving was because her son was gone. A void of maternal influence. Therefore the solution was clear. He would give her a replacement child and then everything would be fixed. Recently their intimate life had been a little too rough with his stress piling up, if he was passionate like he was back then her grief would be forgotten. How did she end up with a man so understanding and clever?

His wife was propped up on the bed reading, of course she wasn't asleep, his sweet wife would never go to bed without him.

"You're home." Relief was evident in her voice.

"Yes I'm home." He slowly approaches, taking off his soaked through shirt. "I've been thinking, and I think I know how to help you with your grief."

"I-what? Oh, thank you-" Naturally she was confused.

"It's alright." His face was lit up with a smile, and while it was off-putting it was nice to see him happy. "My plan to help you through this is so simple and easy."

She sits up in anticipation. "Well go ahead, tell me William."

His smile fades completely, staring her right in the eyes. "We have another child."

She takes a moment, stunned by his suggestion before her eyebrows knit together in anger and horror. "We have another child?! William, Evan is bared cold in the ground and you're suggestion we just replace him?!"

"Exactly. It'll make you feel better."

"You're insane, he's our son and you just want to make him go away?" She starts to pull back the covers. "I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pushes the covers back and holds her there. "Yes, he's gone! Our child is dead, and you know what, wife? You're going to give me another one." Before she can protest William climbs on top of her, this was all to make his family better. He had to make them better. Now they might hate him, but soon they would thank him. Tomorrow they would love him.

Tomorrow was another day.

Taglist:

=========

@fandomreader

@n3r0-1417

@2pacl0ve

[star-going-supernova]

Gregory introduces Spring-ness to Freddy

The first prompt up there is number three of our tumblr generated prompts and comes from TheGrimRead3r on ao3! The second one came in during this event, but there was no reason not to put them together. This one is a sequel to Amongst the Dead, and the tldr of that ficlet is that Vanessa got spring-locked and possesses a white bunny animatronic now.

A Difference Keenly Felt

Vanessa didn’t know what she was doing. In the grand scheme of things, that is, because right now, she was letting a kid stand on her shoulders in order to climb into a vent. A kid she desperately wanted to save. Which meant now was not the time to have an existential crisis. Gregory’s slight weight left her, and she listened to the clunking of him scooting around up there.

“I’ll go unlock the door,” he called back to her, and then he was off. It was a good thing they weren’t trying to be quiet, she mused with a soft huff.

She wandered back over to the door in question. Her movements still felt stiff, but it was already a far cry from the absolute struggle it was to stand up. She hadn’t moved since she’d been tossed into that room like junk—as if she wasn’t a… as if she wasn’t an actual person.

A dead one, yes, but clearly death wasn’t as final as she’d once believed.

Vanessa looked down at herself, at what she thought of as her body now. It didn’t feel the same as her human body, of course, but it was still hers. There was a much duller sense of feeling, like she was touching things through a thick blanket, and she’d completely lost her ability to taste and smell. But the limbs moved as she wanted, and her eyesight and hearing was certainly improved.

It wasn’t the body she would have chosen for herself. If she could get her human one back, she would in a heartbeat. But instead, she was a fuzzy white rabbit animatronic, which was just salt in the wound.

She hadn’t known how to feel when she realized her human body had been removed. The insides of her animatronic suit were far from clean—judging by the way Gregory’s nose wrinkled when he got too close, she still smelled of rot—but it hurt a little to have lost that last piece of who she used to be. She was grateful, though, to not have to be so aware of the flesh and blood that had clogged her insides.

The door unlocked, and as Gregory pulled it open, he said, “You’ll never guess who I found! I don’t think I mentioned it, actually, but Freddy was helping me before we got separated, and that was when I met you!”

What passed for fear when one’s body lacked flesh and hormones and a brain to translate those chemicals flashed through Vanessa, and she looked up in a panic to see Glamrock Freddy standing behind Gregory. His smile faded a bit when he saw her, but Gregory didn’t notice either of their reactions.

“Freddy, this is Vanessa. She watched over me while I took a nap. Vanessa, this is Freddy. He was helping me before I met you.” He barely gave them a chance to take each other in before he was off like a shot. “I’m gonna go get a Fazerblaster like you suggested, Freddy! Be right back, play nice!”

Vanessa tensed as she was left alone with a real animatronic. He eyed her distrustfully.

“You are not like me,” Freddy said eventually.

“Uh,” she replied. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You are… different. Wrong,” Freddy said. She flinched minutely; trust me, she wanted to say, I know. “There is no ‘Vanessa’ in my files of past or present animatronic personalities. You do not exist, yet you stand before me.” His countenance hardened, and even though Vanessa wasn’t hooked up to the communication system the way a proper animatronic would be, she could nearly feel the protective rage settling over him. “If you are trying to hurt Gregory, I will stop you.”

She raised her hands and shuffled away. “I’m just trying to help, okay? The kid needs as much as he can get.”

“Who—what are you?” Freddy demanded.

“I’m Vanessa,” she said. “I… I’m…”

He moved fast for a robot, much faster than she did, as unused to her mechanical body as she was. He slammed her into a wall, looking quite ready to rip her apart if need be.

“Okay, okay!” she cried. “But you can’t tell Gregory, yeah? It’ll—it won’t help.”

“I will be the judge of that.”

She wished she could swallow or run a hand through her hair or even just breathe. But all of those little human things had been taken from her. Their absence, the difference in all the little things that made her up… she felt it deep and sharply.

But it wasn’t like she could cry about it.

“I’m Vanessa,” she repeated. “And I was a human. I got… I was tricked into this suit—it’s got springlocks, which are really really dangerous—and I. I died. In here. And now my body’s gone and this is my body now.”

The light of Freddy’s eyes flickered. She could hear the subtle clicking and whirring of his body as he processed that.

“Vanessa Anderson,” he said slowly.

Her voice box emitted static, as close to a choked breath as she could manage.

He continued, “She is in my files as a night guard who went missing a year ago.”

A year. Had she really been asleep, shut down, whatever, for that long?

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “That, that was me. And now I’m…” She gestured helplessly at herself.

Freddy backed off, releasing her. “I am very sorry, Vanessa Anderson. I… will not tell Gregory.”

“Thanks. And I mean it. I just want to help him. I, I can’t let him end up like me.”

He looked at her, then, really looked at her, and he nodded. Maybe it was wishful thinking, or a remnant of her humanity that demanded she seek emotion even in emotionless things, or maybe it was because she understood him in a way she wouldn’t have been able to as a human. But whatever it was, it seemed to Vanessa that Freddy was looking at her with more compassion than anyone had shown her in years.

[eorzeashan]

Minder, Minder

“Ensign, why don’t you go run a systems check– I need a minute with the agent.”

Raina turns to leave. “I’ll chisel the ice off the pilot’s seat for you,” She says, good-natured and obedient. Eight watches her form disappear up the ramp of the shuttle. She’s young, sweet, and terribly fresh: green in a way he hasn’t known since his Academy days. He’s not sure how she survived in the frigid wastes so long with such a chipper attitude.

Hunter seems to share his sentiments, judging by the slight disapproval in the fold of his arms and the impatience rooting his back foot to the ice floor. He’s at a crossroads for a decision, and Eight zeroes in on the words hanging off the thick of his lips. 

“Ardun Kothe’ll be happy,” He starts, his commander’s opinion relayed first, and Eight patiently waits for the relevant information that comes after the but. 

“But the girl…” There it was. “We agree that she needs to die, right?” Hm. Brutal as ever.

Not that he was complaining. They did agree on that. It was standard procedure; saw too much, heard too much, not useful enough to me, a liability– all judgements that usually ended with new blood buried somewhere deep underground. He knew it by experience and the intimate familiarity of being one such liability in a long age past. You’re a weakness, his mentor had said to him without an ounce of warmth in her voice, looking down on him wheezing for breath on the cutting board floor, unless you become a knife in my belt, I’ll leave you with all the rest.

She’d then extended a blue finger to the misshapen trash bags piled up along the wall, where the remains of her ex-lovers sat in neat little pieces, stinking of chemicals that stripped the hairs from one's nose.

He learned his lesson quickly.

People weren’t people to agents. They were loose ends. Trash to be discarded. Tools to be used. Mouths that talked too much, and eyes that watched too closely. It went the other way around, too.

Which was why Raina Temple could not suffer to live– yet against the voice of Nosta that lived eternally in the cracks of his soul, Eight found that he did not want to sink her body beneath the ice floes with rocks in her gutted stomach, a meal for the fish below.

“She’s not a threat,” He decided, not a retort, his words paced and even.

Hunter doesn’t look convinced. His fingers tighten on his forearm. There’s an unamused twitch in his second eyelid, and his shoulders are set square– relaxed from the outside, bordering on tense from within. Ready to act, while trying to play off that he is. More words stand to crawl from his throat, just above the bulbish shape that is a feature in his species. They called it an apple, like the fruit. Eight lingers over how much force he’d need to break the skin when biting it.

“She’s Imperial, she knows about the Starbreeze, she’s seen me, she’s seen you…” Hunter trails off, and Eight can see the metrics ticking in that wound brain. Eight wouldn’t call it nervousness, but Hunter…is cautious. Too cautious in all the ways he is not. Hunter skims just past paranoia and into the territory of bad faith; good for a classical agent, but too much fear begets no rewards– and jumping at shadows opens just as much room for mistakes as excessive trust.

“If she becomes a problem, I’ll take care of it,” Eight answers with a quirk of his brow, as if the danger she poses hardly warrants a second thought. To him, it doesn’t. She’d never last against him. No reason to send her back to Saganu in a body bag, and he suspects the Aristocra would be less than pleased if he did. 

Hunter’s eyes dance over his face, searching for the source of his confidence with pinpricks of wariness in the minute twitches of his face before he visibly relaxes, taut muscles released from their focus. Like a sigh, his readiness dissipates…but Eight is staring at the intent rolling up from his throat’s apple to his chin, resting on the bottom of his lower lip, weighed with purpose and a bit of that high that all with even a hint of power relish in before the utterance. Something animal in him rises to its hackles. It smells of the leash, the gentle tug before the pull. The freedom with which cruelty is spoken and the safety his prey finds in it. 

Eight has waited long enough.

“Just to be sure, though,

I’m putting a command in your brain. 

O n o-"

Eight lunges forward. The hut is small. The distance is laughable.

"M a"

He sees the shock bleed into Hunter’s eyes as he automatically falls backwards at his sudden advance. His back hits the wall, Eight’s hand fisting his collar.

"T o-"

He slams him against the slope of the hut. The impact rattles Hunter’s skull to an explosion of dancing stars, interrupting his verbage–it happened in the blink of an eye, and before he can so much as get another sound out, the Cipher’s moving again. A bit of spittle escapes Hunter’s mouth, mixed with blood. Too fast. Far too fast. What the hell?!

He’s not going to make it. No room to reach his blaster. Nowhere to get distance. The word, idiot! He tries again, fury welling up in his chest for being played a fool. 

Hunter blinks. Eight’s lips are on his, hotter than a molten star, softer than synth-silk.

His brain shuts off. He feels the other’s tongue slip through, wet, mixing with his saliva.

It takes him a second to register it probing the walls of his mouth, his senses overloaded with fever. He’s struggling to catch up, but he does, and a fierce hunger overtakes him as he claws at the Cipher agent’s back and pulls him closer into his space, their mouths battling for dominance, searching for just the right way to lock together as he eats him alive for more, more, more. His fingers trail down his nape as he bites his lower lip, tastes the wetness there and Eight moans into his mouth– the sound shooting straight down to his hidden pistol. Filthy like a whore.

Yeah. That’s more like it, Cipher. 

Just as he’s in the throes of kissing him senseless, the small part of his brain that has been screaming warnings at him breaks through the haze of his desire and he’s hit with remembering exactly what he’s here for.

The keyword! 

Hunter’s glazed eyes shoot open, the cold shock of recollection assaulting him like water dumped over his head. He shoves the agent away from him– did he really think he could seduce him out of a command? Cheap trick. He sneers.

…Only to find that the agent wasn’t budging.

Eight’s formerly closed eyes are wide open and staring straight at him. From here, he can see the wild glint in his eyes, light reflecting off the obsidian edge of his irises, dizzy with carnivorous desire and a gut-plunging intensity that makes Hunter think he’s been stabbed. Those dark eyes are the black rocks dotting the bay above a sea cliff, and he feels their pull keenly, the call of their void. 

It takes Hunter a moment to find out why.

A white-hot pain overtakes him. He tries to scream, but it doesn’t make a sound besides bouncing uselessly around in his throat. Iron, wet and heavy, gushes forth inside his mouth. The knee jerk reaction of pulling away from Eight sparks even more of that terrible pinch, the stretch of ruined flesh and his tongue alight with the kerosene of suffering– 

You bitch!

Eight’s cheeks are flushed now, and he can see the shy grin that extends from both sides of his face, painted with driblets of red.

He lets go after what feels like an eternity, taking one step back to admire his handiwork. Hunter falls to his knees, gagging and choking, blood leaking out of his ruined mouth. His tongue lolls, swelling with the inflicted bite mark of the other agent, flopping uselessly to the side as he tries to hurl swears at Eight but can only mush malformed invectives together that feel as mutated as his damaged digit.

His eyes spell of murder.

Eight wipes the runoff from his lips with the side of his hand, smearing it with red.

Amidst his rage, he hates himself for the arousal that emerges seeing him so bloodstained. The pool of want settles within the acid of his stomach.

He wants to kill him. He wants to kill the girl in front of him. He wants to have him choke on air for a week. He’s never wanted so badly to drag someone to a closet and lock them in there with him until they beg to do anything but know his touch. He still can’t say the word, and he wants to yell and scream for being in this position. 

Eight’s expression is orgasmic. 

“Mind your tongue,” Eight purrs with as much satisfaction as an overly-fed vine cat, “Minder Seventeen.”

—--------

Kothe confronts him about it later.

“Did you do that to Hunter?” It’s an innocent question, posed with that no-nonsense tone of a father trying to parse who took a cookie out of the jar. I’m not mad, just disappointed, says the stern set of his jaw. Eight doesn’t turn around to look at him from where he’s sitting crosslegged atop an empty weapons crate that Saber emptied. The spymaster waits for his answer.

He slurps a mouthful of instant MRE. Chews the noodles a little. “Dogs will bite if you pull the leash too many times.” He explains, in between a cascade of pasta falling from his mouth. Sluuuurp.

Ardun sighs. “I don’t understand why you boys are fighting, but I trusted Hunter with the codeword for a reason. If there’s a problem, I want you to tell me, Legate.” He says firmly, with a tired air to his stance. “We’re a team. We don’t hurt each other.”

“Already told’ya.”

Another sigh. “Because Hunter hasn’t talked to me either, I’ll let it go– but only this once." Ardun's tone is deadly serious. "I won’t tolerate dissension or hurting the other members of this cell. Time’s short and there’s too much at stake for in-fighting... I hoped you'd understand that. We’ll discuss this again another time.” Eight feels the air waft off the swish of Ardun’s cape as he exits the room, left alone with his lukewarm noodles.

Hm. He sips the broth thoughtfully. He didn’t use onomatophobia this time either. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spies something orange around the corner. He felt it before, staring at his lips. Eight smiles and wipes a stray bead of liquid from his mouth, smearing it across the back of his hand for his secret voyeur. 

The visitor quickly disappears. It’s fine, though.

He always comes back. 

[mackeydoodledoo]

Burning Sun: Chapter 9

Pairing: Rosalie Hale x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You've seen her in the school halls, the cafeteria, anywhere really. You, for the longest time, hoped... Wanted to be noticed by Rosalie Hale. However, you give up when you realize it was getting you nowhere... Throughout high school and just some time after the high school years, Rosalie’s true feelings come to fruition.

Chapter Warnings: Push-n-pull Relationship

Chapter Theme: War with my Mind - Crimson Apple

Key: Italics = Thought, +*+ = Time Skip, Bold/Indent = Text messaging

A/n: None

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

You packed your suitcase and follow Rosalie to her car, awkward silence filling the tension between the both of you...

No words were exchanged when the both of you finally reached back to your apartment. She only drove off when you exited the car with your things.

+*+

It was all bullshit... 

At one point Rosalie Hale wanted to be in your presence... Next thing you knew she wasn’t willing to go the distance with you in actually trying out a queer relationship.

Maybe it was because the cooling system in your apartment was getting repaired that day and the heat was really getting to you... 

“You do know that sometimes it's hard for her to open up about certain things?” Your friend asks, over the phone

“Doesn’t mean she has to hide them from me,” You say, “I want her to feel like she can trust me with anything...”

“Has she given you anything she felt that she can trust you with?” She asks

I found out she was a Vampire and knew about it since high school... 

“No...” You lie

“See, maybe she wasn’t ready to tell you certain things yet,” Your friend attempts to enlighten you

“Yeah, well... I have no time for waiting,” You say, “She can feel comfortable in her own time. For me, right now at least is to get this degree... I can’t afford any distractions...”

“What about after college?” She asks, “Would you come back here to mend things with Rosalie?”

Before you could leave for classes, you stop. Attempting to contemplate an answer.

“I don’t know,” You confess, “That isn’t in my plans right now... I’ll talk to you later...”

You hang up the phone and slide it into your back pocket as you sling your backpack over your shoulder; heading out to your classes of the day. 

+*+

After the day, you finish any class assignments due tomorrow. But, you lie wide awake in your bed... Thinking of your last interaction with Rosalie. Internally fighting how much you harbor your undying love for her, and the fact she’s been very one sided with you and solely thinking of herself. 

“God Rosalie...” You groan as you thrash yourself around: trying to find a good position to sleep in

Rosalie knew how to put me to sleep...

You were naturally warmer than the average person; the night wasn’t cool enough to keep you sound asleep...

+*+

It was difficult trying to get goodnight’s rest throughout the week. You didn’t tell any of your friends out of fear that they’ll judge you and encourage you to take the leap to go back to Rosalie. As well as 

As you finish the assignments for the week, you heard your phone go off for the billionth time today. 

God Rosalie enough...

However, she was persistent...

Finally, having enough hearing your own ringtone, you finally cave in and decide to pick up your phone. 

“What Rosalie?” You ask

“Wow is that how you greet your future in-laws?” Alice asks

“Oh... Sorry Alice,” You sigh, disregarding the fact Alice said ‘future in-laws’, “Rosalie has not stopped attempting to call me all day...”

“She could be in worse shape...” She says, “She's been in and out a lot.”

“Not my turn to watch her like a damn hawk Alice,” You scoff

“But, that’s not why I’m calling you,” She says

“Then.... Why are you calling?” You ask

“Since I couldn't track down your new address to send wedding invitations-” 

“Wait hold on, ‘wedding invitations’?” You ask, interrupting

“For Bella and Edward,” She clarifies, “Don’t worry, Rosalie hasn’t stopped thinking about you.”

You couldn’t help but blush as Alice gives you tea on Rosalie.

“Go on,” You clear your throat

“I’m inviting you to be Rosalie’s date,” She bluntly says

“Huh?” You ask

“Rosalie doesn’t want to ask you herself out of fear of rejection so I agreed to do it for her,” Alice explains

“Why me?” You ask

“Because you’re the only one she wants,” Alice says

“Well she’s going to be much more stubborn,” You scoff

“I know deep down in that big heart of yours you’re going to change your mind,” Alice tells you

“Try me,” You reply

You hang up your phone and lean back into the couch as the laptop sits in front of you: a half-done document on the screen. For some reason that sole phone conversation took a lot out of you. You walked into the kitchen to grab a snack and walked back to the couch.

It... Would be nice to see everyone... Especially Rosalie...

Yeah no chance buddy. She plays with our feelings how many times now?

You continuously argued with your easily loving side that Rosalie had hurt you, more times than you would have liked. But, to be Rosalie’s date at a wedding....

Would have all of the boys jealous...

You decided to play along with Alice’s little plan. Since you were aware of her “I can predict the future” gift. 

Buuuut, this essay comes first...

*Alice’s POV* You pick up your phone as it rung, smiling at the screen.

“I knew you’d change your mind,” You smile

“You didn’t even hear my question,” She says

But not long before she makes the realization of your gift. 

“Nevermind, forget that,” She says, “When is the wedding?”

“August 13th,” You answer

You hear her nearly choking on something over the phone...

“That’s literally a month away!” She yelps

“Don’t worry, I’ll have everything ready by then,” You say, in a chipper tone

You hang up after a thorough conversation with Y/n to give her all the details and you text them to her too, to make sure she doesn’t forget anything while she continues school.

*Y/n’s POV* 1 Month Later...

As you pack your medium-sized suitcase, you double-check if you have your wedding outfit: you do. You finish up packing all of the little things you need to bring. 

“Okay... Got everything,” You sigh, closing your suitcase

You bring your suitcase out from the closet room and head to the door, slipping on your shoes. 

“Time to face some old friends,” You sight to yourself, exiting your apartment

Chapter 10