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lemonlover1110 · 19 days

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𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: The rain ruining his plans might have been the best possible luck.

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

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“It’s raining.” You point out, face nearly pressing on the window as you stare outside. It was going to happen sooner or later, the dark clouds had been adorning the sky the entire day, yet the day went dry.

“Raining?” Zayne sounds surprised, as if he hadn’t been staring at the same dark sky a couple of hours earlier. He stands up, walking over to look out the window as if he didn’t trust your word. You swear you hear him sigh when he confirms that it’s indeed raining.

“Is everything okay? Is our date still on?” You look at him, worried about his reaction. He wants to say that the rain will be over in ten minutes and the plans are still on… But it doesn’t look like it’ll stop any time soon.

“The rain is going to make things more… Difficult.” Zayne answers, not wanting to give up on the date idea just yet. There is no hope though, you can’t go stargazing when it’s storming out. You stare at him, trying to study the look on his face– A task that’s difficult since the man does a great job at suppressing any trace of emotion. “Maybe we have to change a couple of things.”

From now on he will leave the dates to you and only you, because the one time he plans something it’s ruined before it even begins. It’s what he gets for trying to be romantic, there’s a reason you’re the one that usually takes on the role.

“Like?” You ask, and he isn’t sure how to answer. He already had everything planned out, and he put his all to the specific date so now his brain is empty. The lack of answer makes you chuckle. “So we’re staying in?”

“Unless I get a reservation in time.” Zayne reaches for his phone to look up restaurants nearby, trying to salvage the night but you snatch the device from his hands. He raises his brows, wondering what you have in mind.

“Let’s stay in. We can cook something, play a couple of games… Other stuff.” You respond, and Zayne fights back a smile. It’s great to have someone pick up his slack. “I found this new recipe that I’ve been dying to try.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’m on it.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. He’s willing to do anything when you have his attention.

“I think we have everything, I just need you to chop up some stuff.” You tell him, and he nods in response. He’s not a great cook since he barely has the time or energy to make his own meals, but at the very least he’s great at chopping up stuff. “You can be my sous chef.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There’s a subtle smile on his lips, and it overflows your heart with joy when you notice it. You wonder why he smiles but it’s never unwelcome. Especially from him.

You kiss his cheek before telling him, “Let’s get to work.”

After nearly burning the house down trying the new recipe, you surprisingly end up with a delicious meal on your table. You’re enjoying your meal, too busy stuffing your face to keep up a proper conversation. You don’t need to talk either way, each other’s presence is enough to satisfy any need for interaction. Though Zayne can’t help but comment,

“Surprisingly it doesn’t taste burnt.” Which makes you roll your eyes. He can’t help but bring it up when you told him a million times that you had it under wraps.

“I told you I had it handled.” You respond. “Or do you not have faith in me, Dr. Zayne?”

“Dr. Zayne?” He raises a brow, and you hum in response. He lets out a low laugh before answering, “I do have faith in you… But I am allowed to draw some conclusions when I see a flame coming from the pan.”

“That wasn’t a flame.” You argue, and he slightly shakes his head.

“Then why did the fire alarm go off?” He points out, and you puff out a breath. You cross your arms, your appetite gone because your boyfriend won’t allow you to have the last word. He never does, and it might be his only defect. He couldn’t be perfect.

“Next time I’m leaving the cooking to you then.” You pout. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for the light fire, it could happen to anyone plus you were cooking a new recipe.

“You’re a far better cook than I am.” He responds, hoping that it’ll make you feel better. He’s staring at you, trying to decipher what you feel based on the expression on your face. You only stick out your bottom lip, clearly not happy with what he’s said.

What did he say wrong? He said all the right words, you should be gleaming not… Looking disappointed.

“Only because you don’t have time to pick up the skill, if you did then you would be saying something far much different.” You end up telling him, and he takes a moment to look at your face. He’s not sure how to answer. He ends up by telling the truth,

“Probably.” And the moment the word leaves his lips, he realizes he couldn’t have picked a worse answer. You look absolutely mortified, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“Probably? You’re not supposed to say that.” You say, and he gives you a subtle nod. He’s not supposed to tell you the truth then.

“What am I supposed to say then?” He sounds ever so serious, and one swift look at his face makes you think that he is, indeed, serious.

“No, I doubt it. You’re the best cook ever, dear.” You end up answering, almost laughing at your own response. You see a twinge of a smirk on his face, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something. He lets himself loose around you, and often laughs at any stupid joke that you make, but it still feels rare when you actually see him smile.

“Alright then, so not the truth. Simple.” He answers, and the smirk that comes to his lips doesn’t fill you with pride like it usually does. You puff out a breath and he says, “Repeat the statement.”

“No.” Your answer is firm, therefore he won’t bug you to do it. He’ll drop the subject.

You two continue eating, and for once he’s the one that makes most of the conversation. He should apologize, he should’ve chosen better words.

“If it makes you feel better, the one time I plan a date… It starts to rain.” Zayne hopes that by admitting his own failures, he’ll make you feel better. You can’t help but chuckle.

“That doesn’t mean that you suck, it just means that the weather isn’t on your side.” You reassure him, face turning to look out the window. The rain still falls, much harder than before. “Plus I’m enjoying the date. Well, I was before you–”

“In my defense, I was initially complimenting the dish.” He argues, and you can’t help but laugh. A petty argument from a compliment. Though you’d argue that it was backhanded, Zayne isn’t all that great with words– Unless it’s with him coming up with a witty comeback, or of course, explaining medical terminology.

“How about you start cleaning up while I look for a game we can play?” You change the topic as you finish up your meal. Zayne immediately nods, more than willing to fulfill the task that you’ve assigned. He begins to clear the table, and you stand up to look for the games that are hidden away. Games that you’ve gotten to play with him but you’ve never had the time to actually sit down together and figure out.

You look for something that’ll make the night more fun, and also something that you have yet to play… But you still land on an old game. Something that gets both of you competitive. You end up pulling an old game that you’ve played a dozen times with him. A game that makes you want to break up with him, but when you make up it’s a memorable night.

You set up the table with the game, and wait for Zayne to finish up in the kitchen. You’d offer to help if he was doing any other task, but you aren’t going out of your way to clean up, even if it is to help your amazing boyfriend. Maybe you can take a peek at the cards as you wait for him to come back to the table.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Zayne walks back to the table, grabbing the cards that you definitely didn’t take a quick look at, and shuffling them. “Who’s going first?”

“I am. I don’t trust you while playing kitty cards.” You respond, and he hands out two cards. You frown as you look at them, knowing that you’re starting off on a bad foot. Your assist cards can help you make a comeback, so you’re only praying you get lucky with that.

“I should be the one saying that, I saw you look at the cards.” He lets out a low laugh as he gives himself three cards. He takes a seat across from you before commenting, “Given by the look on your face, you didn’t get all that lucky.”

“I’m going to win. Mark my words.”

Though you’re as competitive as you can be, luck simply isn’t on your side. Zayne doesn’t help your case, using every card that he has, against your favor. You glare at him with every move he takes, and he smirks, proud of his every move.

“Can you leave me alone? I barely have any points, there’s no point for you to null my card.” You complain, and Zayne shakes his head.

“I have to take every possible precaution.” He answers, putting down a card that takes away your turn– And if that isn’t horrible enough, he takes away one of the kitty cards that you’ve put down. “Last time you won, I heard about it for weeks.”

“Last time I lost, you also heard about it for weeks. Matter of fact, we almost broke up.” You point out, and you watch as the corner of his lips turn. He’s trying his best to fight back a smile, and you have to roll your eyes. “And if you keep up with your act, we might actually break up.”

“It’s just a game of kitty cards.” Zayne says, which makes you glare at him. You cross your arms, a scoff leaving your lips. Just a game of kitty cards? The game becomes a very serious matter when you’re as competitive as you are.

“If you don’t take it seriously, then you should let me win.” You claim, and Zayne knows that unless he stops playing, your date will completely go sour. He just fixed matters after his unnecessary comment, he can’t let himself nearly ruin the date once again. He could try to let you win, but at this point there’s no way you can make a comeback. Plus, it’s not satisfactory for him.

“How about we stop.” He suggests, and you know you can’t win.

“Fine.” You answer, a hint of attitude in your voice just so he notes that you’re not happy with him.

“What were we going to do today?” You ask him, beginning to clear the table. The sight of the unfair game is keeping you mad, so it’s best to clean up. Zayne joins you.

“Stargazing.” He responds, which perks up your eyebrows. Where exactly? “It’s a place not too far from here that gives a perfect view of the city, and I thought it’d be a nice date. I bought a couple of snacks to have a late picnic, but the universe isn’t on my side.”

“That is such a cute date!” You comment, eyes looking out the window to see that the rain has calmed down. “We can still do it.”

Zayne looks in the same direction. It’s not what he pictured, but it’s not a bad idea.

“Just for a minute.” He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours before he guides you outside. Your anger is long forgotten when you feel his large hand lightly squeezing your own. There’s still some light rain when you exit the place, but you aren’t staying outside for too long so it’s not an issue.

“Look, there’s a full moon.” You immediately point to the sky. The clouds had been hiding the moon all night, and now you finally get a chance to glance at it. “Just look at it, it’s so beautiful.”

“It really is beautiful.” He answers, though his eyes aren’t looking at the moon. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, as he finally looks up at the sky. Stargazing is a dumb date if you aren’t going to the countryside. In a way, he’s glad his plans were ruined.

You look back at Zayne, a foolish smile coming to your lips. Stargazing would’ve been nice, even if you don’t get a great sight, laying next to him for a whole night is the type of date that you need. You don’t even need to talk, each other’s presence is more than enough for you to be satisfied.

“Why are you smiling?” He finally looks back at you. It’s not a complaint, he’s overjoyed to find you smiling. He just wonders what’s going on in your mind. Two fingers come up to his face, brushing away the hair that’s on his forehead before you get on your tip-toes to press a kiss on it.

“You are so cute.” You tell him, and he chuckles. Out of all words that you could’ve picked, cute is the one that he least expected.

“Cute?” He responds, and you hum in response. Nevertheless, it’s a compliment so he’ll accept it. He smiles back at you, gaze getting lost into your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, maybe that’s the reason he’s so desperately in love with you. “Cute. I’ll take it.”

“Let’s go inside before you get sick.” There’s a mischievous smile on your lips as you say the words. He’s the one that usually says the phrase, but the tables have turned. Zayne lets go of your hand, hands falling on your waist before pulling you closer.

“Let’s enjoy the moment a little longer, I don’t mind getting sick.” His nose brushes against yours, his eyes looking into yours ever so lovingly. His supple lips land on yours, pulling away within seconds. “It’s barely even raining.”

“Just a minute then.” You tell him, and he nods in response. However, Zayne doesn’t care to look at the sky. Apart from the full moon, there’s nothing that’s worth noting.

He loves the feeling of the rain on his skin, every droplet is a subtle reminder that this is real. He’s living in the moment. What’s happening right now is not a fragment of his imagination. The way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way your hands wrap behind his neck– It’s all real.

“Okay, we should go now. I don’t want you to get sick… And I also don’t want to get sick.” You say, and he smiles. He lets go of you, allowing you to go inside without an issue. You’re not going inside without him though. You grab Zayne’s hand and drag him inside, knowing that if he gets sick, you’ll end up getting sick as well.

“I’m going to get changed.” You tell him, and he mindlessly follows. He’s seen you naked many times, there’s no need to be shy… Except he is the one that gets shy at the mere thought of seeing you naked. He’s already flustered at the idea of you getting changed; but he still follows.

“What do you want to do now? Watch a movie?” You ask him, getting to the room. There’s a sudden increase in temperature– Or is it just Zayne? Why does he feel hot?

“A movie… Sounds fun.” He swallows thickly, watching as you begin to lift up your shirt. His cheeks turn pink at the sight of some skin, but you never take off your shirt. You notice he’s staring, and you fight back on smirking.

“Do you have something else in mind?” You watch him step towards you, ever so slowly. He’s hesitating. Should he? He doesn’t want to turn the sweet night into something… More. But he does.

He wants to feel every inch of you, and frankly, the shirt that you have on outlines everything which doesn’t really help. Maybe he’s a pervert for the thoughts that creep into his head, but it’s hard to think differently when you look like this right before him.

Before you know it, Zayne’s lips land on yours, tongue exploring your mouth before it finds your own. His tongue presses against yours while his hands desperately try to take off the damp clothes that cover your body. Very skilled hands struggle, nerves overtaking him at the thought of feeling your body. An action he’s done many times before, but he turns into putty each and every time.

You’re not as nervous though, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it without an issue. Your hands go into his boxers, feeling him up which makes the man pathetically whimper into your kiss. He can come undone from a single move. And even when your hands are wrapped around his cock, he’s too nervous to touch under your shirt.

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until you pull far enough that the bond breaks. You take off your shirt, and Zayne is watching you as if he were a teenager all over again. Cheeks burn red at the sight of some skin, it’s truly pathetic. It’s not just some skin though, you’re getting completely undressed in front of him.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s dumbfounded, it’s as if he’s never seen this before. This is nothing new to him, but it always feels like the first time… That’s a good thing, right?

His lips land on yours again, though he takes more risks this time as his hand fondles your breast. His lips don’t last long on your mouth, choosing to kiss down your neck, before his lips land on your breasts. His lips kiss every inch of your skin before his tongue circles around your nipple.

It’s nice, but you need more. Your body is begging to feel every inch of him. Luckily for you, it’s as if Zayne can read your mind.

“I need to taste more of you. Please.” There’s desperation behind his eyes, it’s as if he needs it. You get on the bed for him, legs spreading without a shame in the world.He stares down at you and he licks his lips. Maybe this is how he should’ve led the date in the first place.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He says as he gets on his knees. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up. So gentle and shy, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. Doing things slowly is what makes this more exciting.

“Smells so sweet.” He finally gets to your pussy, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit before he kisses it. His lips feel so soft on you. He kisses your clit again before his tongue begins to flick it. Tastes even better than he remembered.

Sweeter than he could ever imagine.

Low moans escape your lips as you feel his tongue work on you. The sound of your voice is perfect, all the motivation he needs to do this. It’s his reward for the night, and he couldn’t be happier. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.

He kisses your clit, two long fingers running through your folds to gather your slick. Once his fingers are lubricated enough, he slowly pushes them in. He begins to suck on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You moan his name, pleasure already consuming you.

He curves his fingers so they hit just the right spot. You bite down your lip, feeling embarrassed at the thought of being too loud. He’s looking up at you, and the look on your face is something he wants to have ingrained in his memory.

His fingers pick up speed, and your hands grip the bed sheets. Pleasure consumes you, your climax slowly overtaking your body. You’re moaning his name again, unable to contain yourself as sex clouds your mind.

“That’s it, baby! That’s so good.” You can’t help yourself as your boyfriend hits all the right spots. It’s music to his ears. Even when he’s been congratulated for his many achievements, this is the best thing he’s ever heard.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest, your body quivering as you finally reach your climax. Zayne pulls out his fingers, tongue continuing to lap at your cunt until he’s finally satisfied. He presses a kiss on your clit when he’s finished.

“I need you, baby. Please.” You say, and Zayne can’t afford to waste another moment. It hurts to even think with the uncomfortable feeling that’s in his pants. He walks to the nightstand to get the bottle of lube before giving all his attention to you. He gets undressed before getting on top of you.

“Are you sure you want this?” Zayne asks as he pours the lube all over his dick. Maybe he should consider some sort of protection, but he needs to fully feel you. He needs to feel every inch of your body.

“I need you, please. Give it to me.” Your voice is enough to drive him wild. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing himself into you. He bites his lip, not wanting the pathetic noise that leaves his throat to be audible. You feel so nice and warm around his cock, so fucking perfect in every single way.

“It’s so good.” He mutters, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he feels you around him. He bottoms out, stopping to give you time to adjust.

“Move.” You tell him, and Zayne begins to move with slow thrusts. His eyes focus on your face, watching as it contorts with pleasure. It’s hard for him to not get nervous when you look like this, so fucking perfect.

“You’re so tight.” He says, hands gripping the bed sheets. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands going to the back of your neck to push him down. Your lips meet his in a messy but passionate kiss.

You drive him insane.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” You praise him, and you hear a groan come from his throat. His thrusts pick up speed, slowly losing himself inside of you. All composure comes undone when it comes to you.

He watches your hand move down your torso, and before you can even finish your thought, his hand takes over. His fingers play with your clit, doing everything just right. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, moaning his name over and over again.

“Fuck.” He curses, a word that rarely leaves his lips. But what else can he say when you’re squeezing around him? He shuts his eyes, too overwhelmed by everything that goes on. Your hands go to his back, nails digging into his soft flesh which makes him moan– The slight pain heightens the pleasure.

“Zayne, I’m gonna–” You begin, pleasure overtaking your body as another climax approaches. Zayne hits all the right spots, he simply knows your body too well.

“I know, dear. I know.” He’s out of breath. He’s close too. It’s just too much for him to handle. But you’re one step ahead of him. Your nails drag along the skin of his back as pleasure gets the best of you. You see white, finally reaching your high.

“Good job.” He praises you, knowing that he’s not going to last much. You’re just too much for him, which in the context, is a wonderful thing. His thrusts get sloppy, getting more vocal by the second.

“Can I finish inside?” He asks, and you frantically nod your head, not even having the words to say yes. You pull him into a kiss, and he groans into it as he releases his warm cum into you. A dragged out sigh leaves his lips when he pulls away from the kiss.

He stays buried inside of you, not wanting to leave your warmth just yet. He stares into your eyes for a bit, getting lost in them once again. There’s a certain spark in them, one that he’s noticed only appears when you look at him. The same spark that appears in his eyes.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask him as he pulls out of you. He lays down beside you, turning his head to look at your sweaty face.

“Clean up first.” He says, though you don’t listen and nuzzle up next to him. He rolls his eyes, but he still wraps his arms around you. “I admit, this is much better than stargazing.”

“We could’ve done that there too.” You respond without missing a beat, and his face gets completely red. He definitely wasn’t imagining that. He supposes that you could’ve, but it wouldn’t be as special– It would be even more special, it just would be indecent.

“I like it better here.” He tells you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s warm, and there’s no bugs around.”

“You’re right.” You chuckle. “Could you imagine if a mosquito bit you–”

“How about I run you a bath?” Zayne cuts you off, knowing that the question that’s about to leave your lips is absurd. He doesn’t want to hear it.

“Will you join me?” You question, getting off him. He takes a moment to look at you before nodding in response.

A bath sounds nice.

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iluvmattsbeard · 4 months

Text

late at night (c.s)

master list

warnings: none!

preview: you and the triplets decided to go rent out a cabin leaving the Los Angeles lifestyle for a little bit to take a breather. late at night, you were awaken by a sleepless Chris knocking on your door.

a/n: likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

you're in your room, packing your luggage as you talk on the phone, "how long are we staying there again?" you speak up, looking through your drawers. it was way too early in the morning. your mind needed some refreshing. "till Sunday." Nick replies shortly. he was also packing his things for the two day get away. you and the triplets decided to take this trip up the mountains to get peace and quiet. a change of scenery is always good. “is Matt and Chris ready?” you ask folding a few shirts. Nick scoffs, “Matt is still sleeping.” you look at the camera to face him. Nick looks back at you and freezes, “are you serious? how about Chris?” you ask with a straight face.

“let me see.” he says putting down what he had in his hands, walking towards his bedroom door. he opens it and shouts, “Chris!” you stare at the phone waiting for a response. “yeah?” Chris shouts back. “what are you doing?” Nick asks leaning against his door. Chris eventually walks into the room, “I just finished packing.” he says. he looks at the camera and sees you, causing him to smile a bit, “good morning Y/n.” he greets. “can you wake up Matt? I don’t want to be the one to drive up the mountain.” you ask with the same straight face, making Chris’s smile fade, “no good morning back?” he asks. Nick rolls his eyes before interrupting, “Chris, go do what she asked.” he pushes the younger brother out the door, shutting it.

“you and him need to get a license.” you let out, earning a scoff from him, “trust me, you don’t want me behind the wheel. especially if Matt and Chris are the passengers.” you laugh a bit shaking your head. you’ve witnessed his driving before, it’s not that he was terrible at it. he just stresses out too much. as you two finish packing, Chris knocks on Nick’s door before entering, “Matt’s getting ready now.” he says. “is he packed already?” Nick asks. “yeah. I guess he packed last night.” he responds getting on his phone. “that’s probably why he overslept.” you join in. Chris looks at you, “I still didn’t get a proper good morning.” he mutters. you ignore him, “okay Nick i’ll see you in a bit. I’ll stop by the store for a few items. just text me in the group chat.” Nick nods, as Chris sighs dramatically, “so now i’m being ignored?” he adds on making you laugh a bit.

“text in the group chat as well Chris. also, remind Matt to attach the snow chains onto the tires.” you state picking up your phone. “okay I will.” Nick guarantees you. you both say good bye and you start to carry your luggage.

meanwhile, the triplets start to pack the car, waiting for you to arrive. Chris texts you what he wants, including what his brothers want since the two were busy doing what you said earlier, attaching the snow chains.

Y/n

‘be there soon’

you text Chris causing him to grin.

Chris

‘I hope you’re in a nicer mood when I see you 😄’

Y/n

‘we’ll see’

after a bit, you arrived at their house, or as Chris states out dramatically, “finally! you took forever.” you place the bags on the counter looking at him, “maybe because someone, as in you, requested too many items.” you let out, handing him the bag with his requests. he takes it and smiles, “thank you.” you shake your head a bit, smiling slightly at his gratitude, “you’re welcome.”

your attention soon lands on Matt, “are you set to drive?” you ask. Matt nods, “yeah let’s go.” he responds. you all pile into the car with you sat in the back with Nick and Chris in the passenger seat. you were all now heading to the anticipated place, a cozy cabin that you all decided to split money on. the car ride was only 2 hours long. Nick knocked out during the whole ride, Matt was focused on the road, and you were resting your head on your fist, staring out the window. you admired the change of scenery. your thoughts were soon interrupted by Chris turning up his music. you lift your head to look at him. he was singing along loudly, “Chris! turn it down!” Matt shouts.

you laugh while Chris turns the music up louder. Nick gets woken up, “seriously?” he mumbles tiredly. “look, we’re here!” Chris says excitedly, pointing at the cabin. Matt parks the car as you all look at the building. it was perfect. you put on your beanie and head out the car with everyone else. the four of you carry everything out the car and head inside. Nick bends down and lifts the welcome mat, revealing a silver key. he picks it up and unlocks the door. as soon as everyone shuffled inside, you guys were instantly hit with a comforting scent. you guys look around and you couldn’t help but eye the fireplace. you were excited for this weekend. “let’s look at the rooms.” Matt suggests, walking towards the hallway. there was exactly four rooms.

you all pick out rooms and you guys settle in. Nick sits on your bed and looks around, “what is the plan for today?” he asks with a smile. you sit next to him, “I thought we were snowboarding?” you ask. Nick looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “do you think I know how?” he asks making you giggle, “how hard could it be?” you state.

you guys eventually did go snowboarding, “okay maybe I was quick to assume.” you say looking at Nick as you both were laying in the snow with visible irritation on his face. “I told you!” he lets out, causing you to laugh. “are you guys okay?” Chris asks lifting his goggles up. you look at him, “a little sore.” you respond. he smiles and puts his hand out. you look at his hand before grabbing it. he pulls you up. “okay help me now!” Nick shouts. you and Chris burst put into laughter.

when you guys head back to the cabin, you went straight to take a shower. your body was aching from all the tumbling you did also, from the tumbling Nick did into you. later on, you guys had pizza for dinner and you all ended up going to bed early. you were definitely drained from today, waking up early and absolutely failing at snowboarding. you didn’t hesitate to drift off to sleep.

suddenly, you were woken up by a knock on your door. you rub your eyes and get up wondering who it could be. you look at the clock on the bedside table and groan quietly. it was the middle of the night. you open the door and see Chris. you could tell from the look on his face that something was up, “what’s wrong?” you whisper tiredly. he looks at you and whispers back, “can I stay with you?” he asks catching you off guard. “what? why?” you ask confused because he usually goes to Matt. “please?” he adds on. you rub your forehead and sigh. you open the door wider, letting him in. he walks in and immediately lays in your bed. you shut the door and turn around, standing still.

you watch as Chris snuggles into your blanket, “why do you want to be in here?” you ask. “I had a bad dream.” he whispers.“then why didn’t you go to Matt or Nick?” you ask walking closer to the bed. he shuts his eyes, “I didn’t want to.” he responds. you shake your head a bit and eventually lay next to him. you lay on your hand facing him. Chris opens his eyes and looks at you. “do you want to tell me what happened in your dream?” you whisper. he just stays quiet as he continues to stare at you. “come on. you disturbed my sleep.” you add on. he shakes his head, “I don’t want to talk about it.” he says.

you sigh, “okay, try to get some more sleep then.” you say turning around. you lay on the opposite side as you look ahead of you. you then feel Chris’ get closer to you, making you turn around to face him. you both were looking at each other with a small distance in between. “I can’t sleep.” he whispers. “why not?” you ask with a slight groan. it was too late at night for this. you now understand why Matt wakes up grumpy. you analyze his face and still see the same look from earlier. you move the blanket and open your arms, indicating him to ‘come here’. he breaks the distance and lays his face in the crook of your neck.

you wrap your arms around him with one hand playing with his hair softly. Chris eventually relaxes in your arms. “Y/n?” he whispers with his eyes shut. “yes?” you respond. he let’s out a breath, “can we always be like this?” he asks with an unfamiliar tone. you pull away slightly to look at him but he hides his face. “Chris?” you say trying to move him so you could see his expression. “what’s wrong?” you ask with slight concern. as soon as your eyes met with his, you couldn’t help but notice tears roll down his cheeks. you widen your eyes, you’ve never seen him cry before, “Chris talk to me.” you add on.

“I feel like an idiot.” he says sitting up, causing you to sit up as well. you both sit there as you lift your hand to wipe his tears away. “tell me.” you whisper. his breath was shaky, “the dream I had…” he starts off but he shakes his head, “it’s stupid.” you shake your head, “Chris it’s okay just tell me.” you reassure him. he lets out a breath, “in the dream I told you how I felt about you and you didn’t feel the same way back. you ended up getting with someone else.” you sit there confused, “why would that bother you?” you ask. he shakes his head, “forget it.” you place your hand on his knee repeating the question, “why would that bother you?”

“this whole time i’ve felt this feeling. a strong feeling that i’ve tried to shake off. you know how I am, I don’t just feel these type of things. when you’re around, I feel this sudden urge of wanting to impress you or trying to get you to only look at me when i’m with my brothers.” he confesses making you sit there frozen. “when I had that dream, I woke up with my heart racing. that’s why I came here, to you. I don’t want it to be too late when it comes to me telling you how I feel.” he continues. “that’s why I asked if we could always be like this. it felt right to me.” he says talking about you both being in each other’s embrace.

Y/n’s POV

it was silent for a bit. I stared at him, continuing to analyze his face. I knew he was genuine about these feelings. looking back at it, I now realize his efforts. him coming to me now made me feel a knot in my stomach. deep down I did feel the same way, I just didn’t know if he felt it. Chris never acted this way. he’s never had a girlfriend or expressed his feelings to any girl utmost. so him telling me all of this left me speechless.

End of Y/n’s POV

he looks at you and waits for a response but nothing could come out of your mouth. Chris sighs, “i’m sorry if this was too much.” he moves about to get up but you grab his hand. you lay down pulling him back to how you both were before, with his face in the crook of your neck. “of course we can.” you whisper. he looks up at you with his mouth agape, “really?” he asks. you look at him and smile a bit, “yes really.” you reassure him. his eyes kept on you filled with admiration. you both smile and continue to be in each other’s arms. drifting off to sleep.

the next morning, you and Chris were on the sofa drinking hot chocolate. the fire place was lit and you both were under a shared blanket. you both talked about last night and how you both wanted to start off slow. as in not putting any labels on yet. he wanted to properly take you out first. you both agreed that when you both get back to LA that he would try for his license. you took his word for it. you sip your cocoa as he giggles a bit. you look at him with a raised eyebrow, “what you laughing at?” he smiles, “there’s something on your lip.” he says getting closer, leaving a small kiss on your lips.

“there we go.” he says licking his lips. “just whipped cream.” you sit there looking at him with pure shock. “what happened to slow and steady?” you ask. “I was just taking off the stuff from your lips.” he says with a sheepish smile. you put down your cocoa and pull him in for a proper kiss. he does the same and kisses back, resting his hands on your face. when you both pull away slowly, Chris speaks up, “I just had to kiss you. i’ve been waiting you know.” he whispers making you laugh softly. “okay but still. slow and steady.” you add on. he nods a bit, “it’s just kissing.” he says reattaching his lips onto yours.

a/n: yeah i don’t know how i feel about this but, hope you enjoyed. LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 year

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Lord Husband (Chapter 1)

Cregan x reader

A/N: this is just gonna be a miniseries methinks

word count: 1,171

Next chapter

Series Masterlist

“You look like an angel, my love.” Rhaenyra says as the handmaidens pin back your hair but you don’t feel like an angel; you feel like a pawn.

You have been meeting with suitors for nearly four moons and none have seemed to be good enough for you. Lannisters are too proud, Tullys bore you, and you can’t stand a single person with the name Baratheon. Your mother said that she was showing you a great kindness in allowing you to choose, a kindness that she didn’t appreciate enough when the young queen had the chance. You don’t care. You know you are just like she was when she was younger. You often wear that with pride but you know what it means in this scenario. You’re ‘too stubborn to appreciate what has been given to you’. Rhaenyra gave you the opportunity but she was no longer patient. A husband had to be chosen.

“Winterfell is very far.” Is all you say in response.

“Lord Stark is a good man. I would not have chosen him for you if I wasn’t sure of it.” She presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Just walk through the gardens with him. Get to know the man who will be your husband.” She pets your hair in a loving manner. You can’t seem to understand that she would only have the best for you, her only daughter.

You have yet to meet Cregan Stark but you already hate him, your betrothed, the man who will whisk you away from your family to the cold North. You resent the freedoms he is taking from you. You resent being separated from your family. You resent everything about him.

“He will treat you well, sweet girl. I know it.” You stand up now, wrapped in a silk gown and decorated with jewellery like a lovely little present for him. When you get to the gardens, he is already waiting for you with a blinding smile on his face. You have to admit that he is incredibly handsome. He is tall and his physique looks strong from years of training with the sword. A real Northern man.

“Princess, it is my pleasure to meet you. Our engagement brings great honour to my house.” He walks over to stand in front of you and you let him take your hand up for a kiss, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Lord Stark.” Your voice is cold which seems to surprise him ever so slightly. You don’t give him a chance to say much else as you begin to walk through the gardens, leaving him in your dust. He looks at you in a bit of a stupor before quickly following after his pretty betrothed.

“Would you like to take my arm, princess?” He politely offers his right arm to you. How proper.

“No.” You say simply as he speeds up a bit to stay in step with you.

“No?” He looks a little confused but chalks it up to teenage girls being a little strange. You give him no other response so he makes another attempt at conversation. “Have you ever visited Winterfell?”

“No.” He awaits to hear a sentiment of your excitement to see it soon but is disappointed when none comes.

“I am sure you will love it. It’s beautiful when there's a fresh dusting of snow on the ground. I’d say it’s the greatest place in all of Westeros but I suppose i’m biased.” He grins, mostly to himself, and then looks at you, hopeful for more of a response.

“Hmm.” Is all you offer as a reply. Cregan finds himself dejected at his future wife’s lack of interest and he tries his best to shake it off.

“It does get cold of course but you’ll be more than warm enough in the castle. Most actually find it very cozy.” He gives you another smile that likely has most women melting in a puddle at his feet. For some reason it just irritates you more.

“Dragons don’t do well in the cold.” Your curt reply makes him cringe. He can’t understand what has given you such a sense of distaste towards him. Things are silent for a moment. He has no idea how to respond directly to your comment.

“Do you have any hobbies?” Another attempt it seems. The question makes you sigh. What a boring change of subject.

“We don’t really need to speak.” You shock him with your words, with your bratty attitude. He’d expected you to be entitled but he didn’t expect you to be outright rude. He is a lord after all, the Warden of the North. He deserves some sense of courtesy from you.

“That is going to be difficult seeing as how we are to be wed.” He scoffs and you begin to fiddle with the rings that decorate your fingers.

“The only thing you need from me in this marriage is to fill my belly with your heirs.” You say. You know it’s harsh but it isn’t necessarily untrue. He seems to be taken aback slightly by your words.

“You don’t wish to get to know the man you’re going to marry?” He asks in disbelief. He seems like a romantic. You didn’t think people of nobility were allowed to be romantics. Though, simply knowing your husband better is a sad definition of romanticism.

“You ask many questions.” You roll your eyes and he does his best to hold his tongue and not say something stupid.

“And you answer practically none, princess.” There was a bit of bite in his words. He clearly believes that you’re acting like a spoilt child.

Awkward silence fills the space between you both. You wonder if he may apologise to you and he earns a bit more of your respect because he doesn’t. It’s quiet for quite some time and you try to walk faster so that you may get to the end of the gardens before he tries to make conversation again. He never does and it isn’t long before the promenade comes to an untimely finish.

“Good day to you, my lord.” Poor Lord Stark looks like he’s rethinking all of his life choices when you say the words to him. What an ill fate for the man, marrying a cold Targaryen princess.

“To you as well, princess.” You don’t lift your hand up for him to kiss again and based on the fact that he looks like a kicked puppy, you know that he wanted to.

You leave quickly. You did your duty… technically. Your mother asked you to walk through the gardens with him and you did. Mayhaps you simply forgot about the getting to know him part. You wonder if he will retract his proposal, but who would ever retract a proposal to a princess? Maybe you’re delaying the inevitable, maybe you’re just full of old fashioned Targaryen spite but you have no wish to create a relationship with the man you’re meant to marry.

taglist(comment to be added): @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies

#lord husband #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan fic #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fic

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notjustjavierpena · 1 year

Note

dying for you to right more of javi and reader!!! maybe them discussing having a baby or javi forgetting to pull out?? love the breeding kind from your last fic ❤️❤️

Fever

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: In my mind, this is a prequel to All Roads Lead To Someone. It was supposed to be cutesy, but it turned a little filthy too and suddenly it felt like he wrote himself. I hope you enjoy it, friend!

Summary: The beginning journey of trying for a baby with your husband, Javier Peña.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), established relationship, you indulge in Javi’s breeding kink, daddy kink if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, fluff & fun, domestic javier is sexy and charming and filthy, so much in love, riding, fingering, cumplay

Word count: 2.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48106387

Fever

Javier raised a brow as you presented him with an empty blister pack. He was sitting on your shared couch, waiting expectantly for an explanation to what he could only assume was a lousy gift.

Unsure of what to do, he took the blister pack from your hand, stared down at it with a puzzled look upon his face for a moment before looking up at you once again, “This is the surprise? You got me empty foil and plastic? Are you losing it?”

You had told him to sit down and stay seated as soon as he had arrived home from work, pulled at his jacket to undress him and pushed him towards the living room. There had been a snarky comment about how eager you were, though when you hadn’t straddled him, but rather left him again, he had drummed his thighs impatiently until you had returned.

“Shut up, I’m not losing it,” you bit back, snatching the pill packet from him again to which he frowned.

“Hey, give it back, I was just starting to like it,” he teased you.

You twirled the empty packet between your fingers for a few seconds, then took a deep breath, “It’s my birth control. All gone. I’ve not gotten any more at the drugstore. Like we talked about.”

Javier’s mouth fell open. He sunk further into the couch for a moment, trying to process what he had just heard and you allowed him the time it took to register the words you had spoken.

After a few more seconds, he suddenly sat up straight again. He placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself to stand, not giving you time to say anything as he quickly closed the distance between the two of you to kiss you. You dropped the blister pack on the floor.

His hands came up to cup your face, holding you gently as he covered your mouth with his own. You responded by gently grabbing a hold of his wrist with your free hand, thumb rubbing soothing circles into his skin.

“When can we start trying?” Javier asked when he pulled back to catch a proper breath. He was beaming like a little boy on Christmas morning, grabbing a hold of you to lift you off the ground and into his arms. He spun the both of you around once and you squeaked his name.

“Well, the doctor said most people should be able to start trying already a month or two after stopping the pill, but he also said that anything could happen,” you explained when he put you down on the floor again, “Which means I’m open for business, baby.”

You leaned in to whisper the rest of your sentence in his ear, “Time to fuck a baby into me, Javier Peña.”

Then you pulled back with a satisfied smirk, because Javier was completely lost for words, and you found as you looked down, that he was also starting to get hard. It gave you reason to taunt him, “That gets you going, huh? To knock me up?”

“Don’t,” he groaned as a warning, holding his hand up to say stop.

“It does,” you giggled cutely, but there was something more devilish about it. You reached out for the buckle on his belt, carefully undoing it until you could pull the belt from its loops. You let it fall to the floor with a soft thud, going for his zipper afterwards, “I think we should practice our magic; we have to do it a lot in the coming months.”

Javier said your name softly and when you looked at his face, you saw him with damp eyes. It caught you off guard, “What? What’s happening? Is something wrong?”

“You’re actually gonna give an old dog like me a family,” he stated tenderly, and your first response was to chuckle softly in disbelief at him. He found your eyes and furrowed his brow.

“Hey,” you reached out to cup his cheek when you realized that he meant what he said, brushing it soothingly with your thumb, “Of course I am. Who else would be better than you? I can’t wait, baby. You’ll be the best daddy out there.”

Something shifted then. Javier leaned in to kiss you once more, this time with a little more confidence in the way that he carried himself. He reached for your clothes too now, pulling at your dress’ hem to lift it over your head, discarding it on the floor and finding your mouth afterwards again.

You pushed him backwards, mouth still on his, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. You broke the kiss by pushing him to sit down again, stepping back afterwards to take off your shoes and socks, then undo your bra to slide it off your arms.

“Gonna be such a pretty momma,” he said as he watched you undress except for the wedding ring on your finger, lifting his hips off the couch to shove his jeans and underwear down over his thighs until they hung around his knees.

You hooked your thumbs into your underwear, pulled them down so you could shimmy out of them until they fell around your feet. Javier swore from his seat on the couch as you revealed your whole self to him. squeezing the base of his cock as he started hardening fully.

“C’mere.”

You went to straddle him with a sweet little smile, hooking your leg over his thighs until you had a knee on either side of his lap. You were positioned right above him.

Javier placed his hands on the back of your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh whilst you grabbed at the backrest of the couch. He looked up at you with his brown eyes which had gone darker with desire, “Gonna take real good care of you, make sure you have everything you need and want.”

“Yeah?” You said with a dazed expression as one of his calloused palms slid around your body and between your thighs. He teasingly dipped a finger into you, but only to the first knuckle.

“Oh yeah, so tell me what you want, mi amor.”

“You, Javi. Need nothing but you to cure me of this baby fever,” you moaned softly, gasping as he left you empty once more but even more so as he guided his cock into you in the next moment, “Need you to come inside.”

“Jesus,” he swore, finding your hips to fully push you down onto his length. You gasped at his generous girth, walls fluttering around him from the slight burn that it always caused as your body did everything it could to engulf him. You could feel his zipper gnawing into your ass, but it wouldn’t matter once you started moving on him.

When you finally felt the front of his thighs against the back of yours, you stopped moving to breathe in through your nose to steady your heartbeat. Your pulse was skyrocketing at the feeling of being so close to him despite the years that you had been together. No one had ever made you feel like this.

You kissed him deeply. He pressed his thumbs into the front of your hips, digging all ten digits into you possessively just to hold you in place as you sucked on his tongue, pulled at his bottom lip and moaned into his mouth. You’d move soon, you promised yourself, but not before his hands started to hurt a little from impatience.

“Ah,” you whined as you pulled back, but only to rest your foreheads together.

“Move your ass, baby,” he ordered with a slightly ragged breath, swatting your ass, “You’re gonna make me lose it.”

“Maybe I want you to,” you replied after gasping, but followed through on his command; lifted your hips off of him only to sink down dangerously slowly again. You moaned in unison, and whereas you would’ve liked to go so slow that you’d have him begging you to fuck onto him properly, your willpower to tease was gone at the first stroke of his cock inside of you.

You stared into his eyes, licking your lips as you wiggled a little on his lap. He groaned quietly, and you swirled your hips once and then twice, setting up a rhythm that had you both gasping soon.

“Yes, that’s it, use me, you look so pretty,” he panted as you lost yourself on his cock, leaning back a little to change the angle and riding him in earnest to chase an already climbing high; he always loved you milking him anyway. Plus, the sweet and domestic moment you had shared just minutes earlier was enough to have you both desperate for a hurried fuck. It would have you closer to your shared wish quicker than if you took it slow.

You held on tightly at the back of the couch, daring to lean just a little further back until the angling of your hips made his cock nudge against the front of your walls. You ground your hips down to feel the thick head of his cock ram into your g-spot, and you cried out his name before speeding up.

You started bouncing then, and Javier followed you by bucking his hips up into you until you moved in a well-known unison. There was no doubt: You just fit.

Pleasure tightened in your stomach as Javier fucked up into you, and you knew you wouldn’t last long. Everything about the situation and his body molding yours was intense. You needed to come, and you gave everything you had in you to reach your goal.

The thing that sent you over the edge was when he buried his face between your bouncing breasts, his open mouth kissing your cleavage before moving to one nipple and sucking it into his mouth.

“Javi,” you whimpered as a last warning.

And then you came, hard and fast, muscles clamping down on his stiff cock that responded by twitching inside of you. He was so close, and you egged him on.

“Fill me up, daddy, please,” you begged desperately, moving erratically onto his cock despite your sensitivity.

“Chica sucia,” he praised with a groan, looking up at your face again, “Gonna— mierda, gonna pump a baby into you… y-you want that?”

“Yes! Fuck yes, please,” you nodded, mouth hanging open from the sweet pain of oversensitivity.

Javier spilled inside of you a moment later. You stilled your hips, letting him bury himself inside of you as he pulsed through his orgasm and coated you with himself from the inside.

“You know— hah,” he cut off for a moment, catching his breath and leaning his head back against the backrest of the couch. He let go of one of your hips to run a hand over his face, fingers carding through his hair with a breathless chuckle, “I think that was quite the practice round.”

“We may have to repeat that, I think, just to be sure we were doing it correctly,” you responded, voice oozing with post-coital bliss.

When you were just about to get up on your feet again, Javier took your hand and pulled you back down. He carefully laid you down on your back, “Not going anywhere. We need to make sure that it works, mi amor.”

“Someone’s been doing their homework,” you noted, but grimaced at him a second later. He had gotten up to tuck himself back into his boxers and pull up his jeans. You wiggled a little on the leather couch, “I don’t want to scrub come off the couch later, and you, mister, you just want to look at me being naked in your living room.”

“Is that a crime?” He asked, reaching for your dress on the floor. He slid it under your ass, “There.”

“I’m not law enforcement, but I don’t think so,” you bend your legs and spread them for show, feeling his seed drip out of you and onto the dress. Javier sat down by your feet, looking at the mess he had made.

“I think the way you just behaved on top of me is illegal in at least one country,” he said absentmindedly, reaching between your legs to push his come back inside of you. You squirmed at feeling his fingers inside of you.

“Guess I’m a criminal then,” you moaned.

“Criminally sexy,” Javier turned his palm upwards to press his fingers against your g-spot, making a come-hither motion until you lifted your hips up from the couch at the stirrings of a second orgasm.

“Some scientists actually believed that you increased the chances if you made your wife come after pumping her full of come,” he told you as if he was giving a lecture, “The pelvic floor muscles were supposed to contract and make it fucking stick.”

“Yeah?” Your breathing was speeding up again, clit throbbing despite being untouched. The wet squelching of his fingers in your cunt were filthy, getting dirtier as another wave of your wetness mixed with his come.

“Yeah,” he was calm, working his fingers a little faster and more determinedly, “Come on, I can see you’re close, baby.”

“I’m coming, fuck— baby,” you suddenly announced, voice high-pitched as the first wave of pleasure washed over you. Your legs fell inwards and your hands came down between your thighs as if they could help with the intensity, but you cried as the world around you shrunk into nothing, but the feeling between your legs as you rode the wave.

“That’s it,” Javier chuckled as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping them on the dress. He let you breathe for a second before continuing, “Want a glass of water?”

“I can get my own water,” you started to get up, but Javier pushed you down on your back once more.

“You better get used to this, momma, stay,” he got up from the couch, heading for the kitchen, “One water coming up.”

You cursed him with a smile on your face as you heard glasses clinking in the kitchen drawer.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

#javier pena narcos #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javi pena #javier peña #narcos fanfiction #narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena one shot #javier pena smut #my writing #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #asks #husband!javi

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nochukoo97 · 1 year

Text

boyfriend drabbles (pt.28)

pairing: idol!jungkook x gf!reader

summary: the one where you fall sick after you and jungkook get into a fight right before he has to leave for america

word count: 1.3k+

taglist!: @imlyfie @jksgirlhere

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

You seriously didn’t want to end your last moment with Jungkook before he flew to America this way, but the both of you had been on edge the past few days, so a little argument only fueled the both of you to grow upset and agitated.

Hell, you didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye to him, you simply just acknowledged your boyfriend heading out with his two luggages before he closed the door.

But here you are, sitting alone on the couch of Jungkook’s apartment, nose puffy and red from sobbing earlier. Even though he would be only gone for three days, you knew this fight would make it seem like ages for the both of you.

The next day you were sitting on the counter, picking at your bowl of food. If Jungkook had been here, he would chat with you while the both of you ate, he would sneak little kisses here and there or feed you something. The absence of your boyfriend’s presence further fueled this empty and broken feeling in you.

To add on to that, the time difference with both countries made it worse to communicate, normally Jungkook would stay up late to call you whenever you woke up, but it seemed because of the fight, he had not done so. It hurt you a little inside, afraid that the both of you would be at a silent war with each other for the next two days.

Jungkook on the other hand, was pacing back and forth in his hotel room, his finger hovered above the ‘call’ button of your contact in his phone, yet the previous unsolved argument made him retract his finger, deciding to send you a text instead.

Your phone lit up beside you, catching your attention.

kook ❤️: baby, are you awake?

kook ❤️: miss you, let’s talk when i get home okay?

You almost let out a sigh of relief that he had at least not forgotten to talk to you, quickly picking up your phone, you reply,

me: yes, it’s late over there, why aren’t you asleep?

It was true, it was at least 2am there and you knew he had an early morning the next day. Jungkook paused for a second, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he noticed your thoughtful comment.

You watch as the three dots appear and pause for a minute, Jungkook on the other hand contemplating on how he should respond to you.

kook ❤️: was thinking about you

me: go to sleep baby, you need rest for tmr

Jungkook sinks in his seat a little at your abrupt reply, normally you would have maybe replied with emojis or simply more expression, but it seemed as if the previous argument had still been in your mind.

He quickly reacts to your message with a ‘thumbs up’ and turns his phone off, laying on the cold hotel bed. If not for the argument, he would’ve been on a call with you, falling asleep to you doing chores or random activities, with your presence. Yet now Jungkook feels a part of him empty, laying in silence and hoping his body falls asleep soon.

To be fair, the weather forecast did not say it was about to rain this heavily today. Your initial plan of a quick run to the convenience store near Jungkook’s apartment failed miserably, as you begin to run to the nearest shelter, clothes soaked from the sudden downpour.

A string of curses flows out of your mouth as you try your best to shield yourself with your hands over your head. If Jungkook was there, he probably would have brought an umbrella, or he would have run in the rain together with you, making it seem not bad at all. But of course, with your heart heavy from the argument and the absence of your boyfriend, the rain only further fueled your frustrations.

When you finally reach home after running to the convenience store, you’re dripping head to toe, sniffing as you feel a headache coming in. Falling sick was not on your list either, but it seemed a ten minute run in the rain made your body shut down immediately.

Jungkook had texted you that night, but you had no energy to simply pick up your phone from the coffee table, body limp and weak on the couch as you curl up, shivering from time to time. To add to that, you had run out of medicine in your emergency cabinet, and you knew well enough that going out to buy medicine for yourself was the last thing to do.

“Baby, I’m home,” Jungkook calls out, but he’s only to be met with a dark apartment, looking a little more bare than usual.

Your cat mug was not on the table, the pink blanket you had always left on the couch gone, your laptop on the coffee table gone.

His eyebrows furrow, causing a crease between them as he walks into the kitchen, then the study room, then finally your shared bedroom. Jungkook loses it when he realises, your pillows on your side of the bed are gone, the bedroom slippers you always left near the bedroom door are also gone.

“Fuck, where did you go?” He mutters under his breath, cursing at himself for not calling you before he boarded the plane. You couldn’t have left the house out of anger right? It seemed like it was the only reasonable explanation at this point.

The small light that emits from the gap between the floor and the door of the guest room catches his eye, as Jungkook hums in confusion, why would you be in there?

When he creaks open the door, he’s met with a huge lump of blanket, pillows scattered around the mattress, a mini set up of your mug and tissues and your laptop right next to the bed.

“Jagi, why are you in here?” He pulls open the blanket, making eye contact with you, curled up into a ball, nose red from sniffling.

“Kook, don’t come near me,” You croak out, voice scratchy as you use your foot to push him away. It only makes him step back one step but you’re satisfied with the distance for now.

“Are you sick? Why didn’t you call me?” He approaches you again, ignoring your hands that attempt to swat him away as he places his palm on your forehead.

Hissing, he retracts his hand, “You’re heating up,” Jungkook frowns at you, concern flashed over his face as he studies you.

“I moved here because didn’t want to keep the germs in our room, then you won’t catch it,” You whisper, throat already stinging just after speaking a few words earlier, “I left my phone on my side of our bed, I was too tired to go back to take it,”

Jungkook can only sigh, mentally scolding himself, “How long have you been like this?”

“Two days? I went to the convenience store but it started raining and I forgot an umbrella. It’s okay though, I also didn’t want to worry you too much since you weren’t here,” You let out a smile, stroking his cheek tenderly.

“Next time tell me immediately okay? You’ve been sick and alone for two days, I could have at least sent someone to take care of you,” He looks around the room, a pile of tissues at the corner of your bed as you realise how close he is to you.

“Kook, go out of the room, you’re gonna catch my cold,” You whine, hands pressed against his chest as you attempt to push him away again.

“I’ll rather be sick with you than be away from you,” And with that, he rolls onto the mattress, trapping you in his embrace. Jungkook laughs seeing you squirm about in his hold, rambling on about how he should not be in the room right now.

“I’ll go and buy your medicine soon, in ten minutes okay?”

“Then please stop cuddling me or you’ll have to miss the rest of your promotions,”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts #bts ff #bts fic #jungkook angst

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dollfacefantasy · 6 months

Text

Beginning to Slip

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary: after watching one of the scream movies, you have some fun with toji and a ghostface mask

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cnc, size kink, knife play, face slapping, degradation, dacryphilia, mentions of murder and death and ghostface stuff

word count: 3k

a/n: um i had to repost cause if issues with tags. but yes i did write one like this for leon a few months ago but idgaf 🤪 i hope everyone enjoys <3

It had started normal enough. A regular night shared between you and your boyfriend, watching movies in bed as you often would do when you both had the spare time and lack of energy for anything else. After scrolling through the tv for a while, you came across one of the new Scream movies.

“Ooh, I haven’t seen this one yet. Wanna watch with me?” you’d asked him casually, sparing a little glance in his direction.

Toji looked at the screen, scanning the description with mild interest. He shrugged. He’d never shared your affinity for horror, never really saw the appeal of slasher movies, but if it put you in a good mood, why would he say no?

You pressed play and tossed the remote to the side. Your head rests on his chest, splitting your hearing between the actors talking and the steady beat of his heat. He absentmindedly strokes your head. You’re quiet for the first couple scenes. That is until you hear the iconic voice crackling through the opening girl’s phone.

“Why does the killer voice get less hot every movie?” you ask.

A simple, innocuous question. One you had posed to other people when you had watched the film before this one. But to Toji, it isn’t just a passing remark. He raises an eyebrow and looks down at you.

“Hot?”

A smile grows on your lips as you meet his eyes. “Yeah, hot,” you laugh.

“Isn’t it supposed to be scary?” he teases.

“Yeah… but that’s what makes it hot,” you respond, your smile widening, “The voice, the knife, the stuff he says. I don’t know. It’s just kinda…” You squirm a bit, trying to communicate your desires through motions rather than figure out the proper wording.

“Kinda what?” he continues affectionately mocking, “You got a thing for masks too? Want me to rough you up a bit?”

You laugh a little more. “Maybe I do.”

His eyes widen with slight curiosity, but he plays it off in the moment, making a joke of how he didn’t know you were into that kind of thing. But the comment stayed with him. It replayed in his head even after the credits rolled and you fell asleep in his arms. It was still with him the next morning when he woke up.

Toji was by no means innocent. He was familiar with all this kinda stuff. He understood the appeal. That wasn’t what had his mind lingering on the idea as he showered and got ready for the day. He just never expected you, his girlfriend who’d always been so gentle, to want to get rough.

He wasn’t against the concept though. Not at all. Visions of you flooded his mind. You completely ruined beneath him, face wet with tears and drool, hips bruised from his fingers. He was so not against it he had to jerk off in the shower. Thanks to his overactive imagination though, it didn’t take too long. As soon as he got out and dried off, he ordered one of those masks.

He felt silly in the days after, painfully aware of how eager he was for it to arrive. When it finally arrived, he knew it was worth it though. He pulled it out of the bag, letting the black cloth fall into place. The ghoulish face stared back at him as if it knew what it was about to be used for.

That very night he intended to use it. He waited till the evening when you were sprawled across the couch relaxing. Then he snuck off to the bedroom and got dressed up. Donned in his normal black shirt with gray pants, he peered into the eyes of his reflection as he pulled the mask over his head. It sat flawlessly, the fabric pooling around his neck perfectly.

The last item he needs sits inside a drawer on his side of the bed. The knife. He’d had this part handled long before he knew you’d be into it. He takes out his favorite one, the one he knows will look prettiest pressed against your flesh. As he watches it glimmer in the dim light of the bedroom, he knows he’s ready to go.

He struts into the living room, pausing several feet away from you and allowing you to just take it in. He feels a pulse within the confines of his jeans as your eyes sparkle. You sit up slowly, looking him up and down.

“Toji?” you ask, “What… what are you doing?”

“You said you had a thing for masks and knives, yeah? Well I know you got a thing for me too,” he says as he begins to approach you.

He sees how your pupils lock onto the reflective blade. Holding the handle, he points it at you. The flat of the cool metal rests beneath your chin. He applies pressure and directs you to look up at him.

“Do you wanna try this out?” he breathes.

Timidly, you nod.

“I wanna hear you say it,” he says.

“I wanna try it out,” you answer.

“You want me to be rough?”

Another nod.

“How rough?”

“As much as you want,” you say so quietly it sounds close to a whisper.

He stares down at you for a moment, thinking over your answers. His thoughts smash into a mental wall when he hears your next sentence.

“Want you to make me cry,” you say. You’re looking up at him with doe eyes too. How could he resist this offer?

After a few moments of contemplation, he swipes the blade away from your jaw. “Should I give you a head start?” he asks simply.

A chill fizzles down your spine. He didn’t even need a voice mod. He already had the voice of an apex predator. You shake your head at his question, causing him to smile beneath the mask.

“Make the first move then, bunny,” he says.

As quick as you can, you scramble off the couch, ducking under his large arm. He chuckles while making a grab for you. You nearly trip but manage to make it to your feet and bolt down the hallway.

He spins around and follows, hot on your tail. He doesn’t have to run, his long legs carry him fast enough with a simple stride. The thrill of adrenaline pumps from your heart and out through your veins. You dash around different pieces of furniture, trying to prevent the heavy footsteps behind you from getting too close.

You come to a crossroads when the path ahead splits between another hall and the staircase. Without a second thought, you sprint up the stairs in the direction of the bedroom. It was pure instinct, but you know this game is about to reach the main part when you see his body fill the doorway. His chest rises and falls with his breaths. You can feel his eyes on you even if you can’t see them. Like a gazelle caged in with a tiger, you know there’s only one way this will end.

“Up the stairs instead of out the front door,” he tuts with a shake of his head, “An amateur mistake. One that dumb little girls like you always make.”

He stalks closer to you, and in-turn, you back away. Your steps continue until your back bumps the wall. He’s closing in, nearly close enough to pin you to the wall. As a last ditch effort, you dart to your left in the direction of the bed. In your mind, you were going to hop over the mattress and manage to speed past him back out the door.

You don’t get that far because he grabs one wrist and then the next and slams you face down on the bed. With your arms pinned to your back, all you can do is wriggle to try and find a way to slip out. He puts a stop to your squirming quickly though, jerking your wrists upwards and causing you to yelp in discomfort.

“Calm down, angel face. I’m not gonna hurt ya. Not until I have my fun at least,” he purrs.

He runs the tip of the blade along your skin peeking out from where your shirt had risen. There’s not enough pressure to draw blood, only leave you with a sting of anticipation. A shaky sigh leaves you, but you're careful not to move and send the knife piercing through your flesh.

“That’s better,” he hums before pulling the knife away and placing it to the side.

He releases your wrists as well, planning on removing your top next. You don’t make it that simple though. Your arms stretch forward and claw at the blankets to try and drag yourself to the other side of the mattress.

It takes him no effort to wrangle you back into position. His frame is so much larger than yours, it’s like he’s covering every inch of you. Anywhere you try to move, he’s already there. His fingers wrap around your limbs and encapsulate them completely.

He wrestles you still and whips you around onto your back. One of his hands comes up to your throat and sharply jerks your head, bouncing it off the cushioned surface below you.

“That’s a fight you won’t win, little brat,” he breathes as the eyes of the ghostface mask watch your figure.

You resign to be still for a few moments, only minorly fidgeting as he peels your shirt off you. He takes his time. Each second another inch of your body is exposed to him. He drinks in the revelation of your form. He’s so focused, so calculated with his movements that he doesn’t see your arm swinging at him until it collides with the side of the mask, almost knocking it loose.

To him, it was absolutely nothing. He doesn’t even falter. It registers in his mind in the same way a kitten batting its paw would. He stares down at you with a wild grin on his face underneath the white plastic.

His hand leaves your throat and grips your jaw, straightening you out before landing a firm slap on your cheek. He almost breaks and lets out a laugh at the way your hips jump from the contact. He gives you one more on the same cheek before lowering himself closer to you. You feel the cool smoothness of the knife dragging up your stomach and between your breasts as he speaks.

“Count yourself lucky it’s only my hand I’m using,” he taunts before using his free hand to tap your face once more.

The combination of the hits with the low thrum of his voice had you dizzy. Your head feels foggy in the best way as your heart beats faster and your chest rises and falls quicker with your increased breaths. The knife trails along your collarbone. You can feel a light scratch as he presses slightly harder than before. Still not enough to have you spilling crimson, but the right amount to have your panties sticking to your cunt from arousal.

“You gonna be good for me now, or do I need to give you a better reason to be?” he asks, voice right next to your ear. Your blood was running hot as you could hear him breathing under the mask, feel him hard and pressed against your thigh.

“I’ll be good,” you agree. Your voice comes out soft and hazy. He smirks at the state you're in from just a few smacks.

He backs off, rising to his feet again at the side of the bed. He tugs his own shirt over his head and tosses it to the side before dropping his pants. You can nearly feel your eyes dilate as they take in his appearance. No matter how many times you saw it, it never got old. Each ridge and dip in his muscular abdomen and chest looked so familiar but thrillingly new. His cock was a whole other story. The sight of it hanging between his legs had you drooling in more ways than one.

Reaching forward, he yanks you closer to his body by your hips and then tugs your pants off. The forming pile of clothing on the floor grows as he discards them there.

You’re now splayed out on the bed, left only in your panties. He can see the slick that’s soaked the middle of them. Slowly, he grabs the knife again and brings it between your legs. You whimper as you feel the edge of the blade slide up against your clothed center. Your jaw drops and your legs tremble. You stay perfectly still, your eyes trained on the veins on his forearm as he maneuvers the weapon.

“You’d look beautiful covered in red, babydoll,” he

It glides up the thin cloth between your legs and over your pelvis. The tip catches on the elastic waistband. You bite your lip. Your pulse becomes audible to you as the fabric lifts from your body, hooked on the shiny metal.

“Toji,” you whimper. You see the mask tilt up a bit as he glances at your face, but he says nothing. Until the garment snaps, tearing on the sharp point as the pull becomes too taut.

“You’d be the prettiest one yet,” he murmurs, “All marked up. No mistake about who you belong to.”

His fingers come up to the split in your underwear. He rips it in half like it’s nothing, drawing a gasp from you. The shreds of fabric hang from your legs, and he doesn’t bother removing it any further. Enough of you is accessible for his purposes.

Cupping his hands behind your knees, he pushes your legs up beside your stomach. He can’t get enough of how your pussy glistens and drips for him. He drags two fingers through your folds before gripping his cock and stroking it a few times. He lines up at your entrance and looks down at you for a moment.

“You ready for me, doll?” he asks.

But before you can answer, he shoves himself all the way inside, filling you completely with one stroke. The motion tears a loud cry from your lungs while a cruel laugh comes from him. You try to muffle it by covering your mouth, your own palm flying to your lips. He rips it away though and pins it back on the mattress as he starts thrusting.

“Don’t try to keep that shit from me. The sounds might be the best part,” he grunts, “I’d bet you’d sound the same if I was slicing you up instead of just fucking you stupid.”

Your eyes roll back as another moan springs free. Constant whimpers come next, intermingling with the creak of the bed. He’s not giving you time to adjust like normal, he’s getting right into it, hard and fast.

His skin slaps against yours, and you grip at his biceps, nails digging into the skin. His head tilts back as he sighs at the small stings. One set of fingers dig into your leg with a bruising hold while the other hand returns to your throat. He holds it, using it for leverage to continue drilling into you with no mercy.

It’s ruthless. You’re left gasping for air as your body bobs with the force of his movements. Your walls tighten up and release, struggling to accept the size of him still. Only the cusps of words can breach your lips. Nothing coherent makes it through.

Tears prick at your eyes as everything else in the world fades to the background. Your lashes flutter as you try to keep them in. They finally spill as his hand connects with your cheek again in a small tap.

“I asked you a question,” he growls into your ear.

“What?” you whimper as warm beads roll from the corners of your eyes, down your temples.

The sight of your glossy eyes looking up at him is almost enough to push him over the edge but he refrains and keeps slamming into your wanting hole.

“I asked if you were crying yet, but I think you have that answered,” he says.

“Oh,” you whine simply.

Your cries become more audible while your lips remain permanently parted, an endless cycle of mewls and whimpers seeping out between sobs.

You’re trembling and sucking him in more than before. His head has dropped to the crook of your neck as his breaths have morphed into harsh puffs. You’re both close and each of you knows this.

Your shaky hand rises to the back of his head, pushing the mask up over his head and letting his smooth black locks fall free. The mask falls off him onto the bed as he brings his head up to look into your eyes.

“Wanna see you when you finish me off,” you choke out.

He grins when hears that and presses his sweaty forehead to yours. “Any last words?” he asks.

One final shake of your head, and you explode from him. You scream as the pleasure courses through you. He locks his digits around you and presses his face harder against yours. The only time it was ok for your sounds to be hushed was when it was caused by his lips on yours.

He keeps fucking you hard and fast, only cumming himself as the overstimulation begins to set in for you. His cum floods your insides as he groans into your mouth. His body continues to roll rhythmically through the whole thing.

When he is done, he practically passes out on top of you. You push on him a little bit but not too hard. Being pinned beneath him was far from the worst thing in the world. He doesn’t move though. You’re kinda shocked he even pulls out with how unresponsive he was to you at the moment. You only know he’s still conscious from the tender way he holds your waist and the kisses he’s lavishing on your neck where his fingers had once been.

You decide this position is as good as any and lazily grab the tv remote which laid in its usual spot next to your pillow. With a few clicks of a button, you’ve got the first Scream turned on. You wrap your arms around Toji and nuzzle his head in return, content to drift off tangled together to the sounds of Drew Barrymore being slaughtered.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro imagine #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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rayman-raymania · 4 months

Text

Raymania update!

WOW HEY it’s been awhile! So long in fact, that I’ve been updating and working on Raymania in a story/episodic format!

i have much to cover in this update, but I’ll try and keep it short!

BIG THANK YOUUU!

first of all, THANK YOU for following the blog! We love seeing the engagement and how you all respond to Raymania!! I feel repetitive but thank you so much for loving our Au!! Even if we’re slowing down in content, I hope to make more for you to enjoy!💖💖💖💖 the boys would love y’all too :)))

Whats been up with Raymania?

I’ve been planning, plotting, and working on Raymania as a story and show type of format! And with that- a little bit of a re-write! I’ve been solidifying the characters, new characters being added, and working out future and past events! It feels more fleshed out and I’m happy with how it’s developing!

How were gonna dish out this content is still being decided on, but until then I’ll keep on working on Raymania and beyond!

What does this new rewrite mean for the blog?

I have in mind three things:

We will continue to answer and respond to questions and comments!

Be able to post silly content like doodles and drawing pieces, unrelated to the current story, including info posts for the Raymans and more!

Lastly we have the proper story and plot, this is a bigger project to take on and most likely won’t appear for awhile unless we drop art or content related to it

we hope to get back to you guys properly soon!! Thanks for reading and have a good day!

-kat

#rayman #raymania #Rayman Raymania #rayman au #rayman in the phantom show #rayman origins #captain laserhawk rayman #Remy is in fact a PNG #who knows what else he’ll do #Manny Remy and Rei #rayman clh #clh rayman

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decojellyfish · 6 months

Text

It's okay, love ♡

Hope you guys enjoy this one! Gaz needed a proper one, not just a drabble :) If you have any constructive criticism, please comment below! If you have any requests, or just want to say stuff to me, feel free to submit stuff!

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Harpee Hawk! Gaz x Harpee Dove! Fem! Reader Both of you are nervous on your first date together :3

SFW ~ An odd combination of fluff, then angst, then fluff again :) Warnings: N/A

───♡───────────── Beginning You were waiting at the reserved table at the restaurant where you had planned to meet your date, fingers nervously fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. Your anxiety about being set up makes you glance at the time on your phone every 5 seconds. It was 2 minutes passed your agreed meeting time. You try to subtly fan yourself with your hand, nervousness setting in and making your skin slightly perspire and your white feathered wings twitch ever so slightly in anticipation.

Then you saw him. He came slightly rushing in, he knew he was a little late. You could see in his face. Although he was afar, at the entryway, you could see a slight glint of guilt in his eyes. He was scanning the restaurant for your face, but he spotted you because of your shiny, soft wings instead.

It made your stomach fill with enough butterflies to make a bug collector jealous with how his face suddenly lit up and he began to make his way to your table.

He spoke your name as he approached, almost in disbelief. He was just as astounded as you were as you took in each other’s beauty. It was kind of a brief awkward silence, which you two realized as you looked away from each other with a light blush dusted upon your cheeks.

“I-I’m Kyle.” He spoke, still in awe of your presence, as he held out his hand to you. You responded with your name, as well, and held his hand. You thought it was a handshake, although that would’ve been awfully business-like for a romantic date until he began to raise your hand to his face and he gently kissed your knuckles.

He looked at you the whole time, with you practically melting at the way his half-lidded eyes gazed into yours that were wide open at the surprise.

He then sat himself down in the seat across from you, “Sorry, love, f’ bein’ late. Traffic was complete chaos out there.” He chuckled, making you smile and laugh as well. “It’s okay, at least you showed up late rather than not at all.” You responded, adjusting the shoulder strap of your dress.

“Have you ordered anything yet?” “No, I was kind of waiting on you. I was just gonna wait until about 20 minutes passed our agreed time before I just ordered something or just went home.” You both laughed, a waitress soon approached your table and requested your order.

After you two had placed your orders, she left and you were left alone with each other again. You both stared at each other for a moment before he was the first one to speak up.

“You’re dress looks lovely. It goes well with your wings.” Kyle smiled, you could almost melt with the way his eyes shifted to the feathered protrusions in your back. His brown eyes began to sparkle with admiration before they returned to your face. “You look lovely…” He spoke softly, but loud enough for you to hear him.

You had never really made it this far when it came to a date, either being ghosted or stood up, or your date making you so uncomfortable that you say you’re off to the bathroom when, in reality, you’re booking it out of the agreed spot and going home. Something about the thought of someone caring for you so much that they would kiss you, greet you every morning, comfort you every night, and take you off on an adventure to experience new things together.

It felt so foreign to you. But with Kyle, you could feel the love radiating off of him. Honestly, it terrified you. This felt strange, weird, scary. Scary that you had never gotten this far, scary that you didn’t know what to do or where to go from here.

So you did what felt familiar.

You grabbed your purse, stood up, and spoke the words that felt like a safety blanket to you. “I-I just need to use the restroom for a bit, is that okay…?” “Oh, of course, love. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

He was oblivious, only an understanding smile appearing on his face. It made your heart almost shatter with guilt. But it was the only way you wouldn’t become an emotionally terrified wreck in front of the gorgeous piece of art that sat across from you.

Walking away from the table, you went in the direction of the bathroom, constantly checking over your shoulder to make sure he couldn’t see you before abruptly changing direction and going towards the entrance. You grabbed your coat, quickly putting it on as the host thanked you for coming to the establishment.

You didn’t say a word, quickly shooting a glance over your shoulder at the two-person table. Kyle still obliviously waiting for your return. You felt a burning lump in your throat, tears pricking at your eyes as you couldn’t bear to watch. You were setting up this man’s beautiful heart to be broken. All because you were scared of what actual love felt like, having been denied it for so long.

You swiftly left, already beginning to hiccup, and blinked back your tears. You didn’t want him to see you abandoning him through the windows, so you shot up into the sky and began to fly back home.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“They’re just in the bathroom, they’ll be out in a minute.” Kyle smiled up at the waitress as she served your food across from him. Once she left, he softly muttered to himself, “Hopefully…” before glancing over at the bathroom with a small sigh. He held his hands together in his lap, trying to calm himself down. It had been 24 minutes. Kyle didn’t know what had happened to you.

Maybe you were having stomach issues? But how could they have been so bad that it kept you almost 30 minutes in the restroom? The worst idea that he had popped up in his head was that you had gotten hurt in the bathroom and needed dire help. But that one was also the most unlikely, so he pushed it to the back of his head.

It’s been 32 minutes since you announced that you needed the restroom, he didn’t want the food to get cold. He took a small bite of it, surely he could explain once you got back that he didn’t want to eat cold food that had originally been served warm.

It’s been an hour and 3 minutes since you had left. Kyle had eaten part of his food, not even half of it. He was too worried about what had happened to you. Why you left him. He looked at the plate of perfectly untouched food that was probably cold now.

He was holding his face in his hands, wondering what he had done wrong to make you have this reaction, when the waitress approached him and asked about the bill.

“It looks like I’ll be the one paying f’ it huh?” He responded, defeated. He took the bill from her, quickly speaking up before she left him alone. “And can I get two boxes f’ these?” She responded with a yes and a nod.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It wasn’t that difficult for him to find your address, he had just asked through the grapevine of people he knew definitely were in contact with you. He knew how creepy it was, but he just wanted to make sure you had gotten your uneaten food. That’s all.

Kyle landed outside of your townhouse, walking up the steps and knocking on your door. He hoped you at least had made it home safe.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were still sniffling from your crying session. You felt like such a fool for leaving what seemed to be a perfect man in the dark like that. You felt so many emotions all at once, even as you tried to compose yourself in your pajamas, and snuggled up in your bed as some pitiful attempt of physically comforting yourself. Shame, embarrassment, fear, confusion, helplessness, and frustration with yourself.

You nearly gasped in horror when you heard a knock on your front door. Tears rushed to your eyes, that stupid look you always developed when you were about to cry made its way to your face again. You waited, hoping, praying that whoever it was would just leave you alone.

But it came again, somewhat more frantic than the first time. It felt oddly like a ‘worried’ knock. You sighed, grabbed another tissue, and lazily tried to clean yourself up, this person wasn’t going, were they?

You got out of bed, your wings slightly twitching as they stretched out. They had been stuck in a position that was slightly wrapped protectively around you as you were crying. Your wing muscles were aching, and it took you up until now to notice how stressed they were.

Shuffling down the stairs, you just wanted to be left alone which was why you didn’t bother to look out the windows by your front door.

Your front door opened, Kyle felt relieved that you were okay, you nearly got a heart attack when you saw him on your front step. Here come those tears, already severely blurring your vision, obscuring his worried face once he saw you begin to cry at the mere sight of him.

“You kind of forgot your food, love…” He softly chuckled and handed you a styrofoam box, your shaky hands taking it. “You alright…? ‘M sorry if it was anything I said that made you feel the need to-” “I-I’m sorry…” You whimpered out through trembling breaths and uncontrolled hiccups.

Kyle looked at you, his eyes growing sympathetic as he watched how you just crumbled right in front of him. It made him want just to hold you, cup the back of your head, and whisper into your ear ‘It’ll be okay’.

“I-I’m sorry for-... for just leaving you like that!” You desperately explained, your tears now already rolling down your face, down your cheeks, and down your neck. You didn’t know where to put your take-out box so you just awkwardly held it as you used one hand to wipe at your face.

He looked at you, taking a small breath before stepping into your home and gently taking the box from you. He set it down on a nearby table where you kept your shoes and a vase of flowers. Then he turned back to you and gingerly took your hands in his, looking into your red, puffy, watery eyes.

“It’s alright, love, I forgive you… but there must’ve been a reason you did it…” He was gentle with his words, they felt like a hug almost. “Was there…?”

You sniffled and glanced up at him as you thought of an explanation. “I-I guess I’m just… just afraid of actual love…? As stupid as it sounds…” you sniffled, your shoulders quivering along with your breaths as you tried to calm down. You gave a small awkward, kind of desperate laugh.

Kyle softly chuckled, “‘Fraid of love…? That sounds awful…” he would gently plant a light peck against your knuckles. “How long have you had philiphobia…?” he asked with a small smile. This time, you let out a real laugh. Small, but real. “What’s that…?”

“The irrational fear of love…” His words were so smooth, soft, and velvety as he said that. It felt strange, but like a strange comfort, almost. You took some time to think. “Well, I’m not exactly terrified of it… more like, I’m just unnerved by the prospect of it…”

“Still, how long have you been bothered by it…?” You really started to dig deep into your memory, trying to figure out where it all began.

“I guess… I guess when people started to make a big deal about getting into relationships… I suppose all the way back in elementary, I just wanted nothing to be loved… romantically loved. I never really got that, in any of my school years, and now I’ve just… kind of grown distant to the idea of being loved…?”

“And yet you still reach out for it, love. You’re in the dating pool, you still want love…”

“Yeah… I guess I do…” you mumbled to yourself. He looked at you, moving a bit of hair that had stuck to your face via crying. “Mind if I show you just a little bit…? Not a kiss, but I still want to give you the romantic love you desire…”

You paused, in thought, debating internally on whether or not you accept his proposal. Maybe it was time you did something you were afraid of. I mean, exposure therapy is there for a reason, right?

You give him a small nod, and you see him light up like a warm candle, a comforting light within the cold darkness of night. He then opened up his wings and proceeded to wrap them around you, pulling you closer to him. His coffee-brown feathers gently brushed and rubbed against your ivory ones. He then held you closer with his own arms.

Those muscular arms that silently screamed, ‘I will protect you with every fiber of my being’. One hand resided at one of your shoulder blades and the other cusped against the back of your head.

You both stayed like that for a bit. And you finally let yourself just be. Just be in love. Just relax into the comfort of the loving embrace of one harpee to another. Your eyelids would begin to droop shut, your body relaxing in the warmth of Kyle’s love. You could hear it, in the way he breathed, that he was smiling once he felt you relax into him.

“How’s this, love…?”

“...I like it.”

“You sure? You just like it?” He quietly chuckled.

“Yeah… I love it.” ───♡───────────── End

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batsandbugs · 1 year

Text

THE CONTINUATION OF THE IKEA VERSE

Okay, so this isn't quite an actual update yet, but I've been gone for a while and I wanted to let y'all know what's going on.

The last chapter of Classification System has been fighting me. Bruce and Damian's confrontation is important, but, up until now, I had no clue how it needed to go, or wanted it to end. After all, this story never had a planned plot, and was rather more a chaotic amalgamation of vibes that grew legs and dragged me along for the ride. While that worked well for the first story, the second wanted to veer into serious territory, which is maybe why it was fighting me so hard. I have serious stories, but IKEA Verse has never really been one of them.

So I started thinking of a third installment, hoping this inspiration would drive me to find the proper course for how Bruce and Damian's confrontation should unfold. So I put on my thinking cap, and thought, "hmmm... how am I going to bring back the fun and excitement and hilarity of the first installment, while still continuing Damian and Marinette's relationship?"

And my evil brain responded with...

"~Bigger is better, and better is bigger, a little bit is never enough, no, no, no!~"

So, ladies, gents, and others I now present to you the third installment of The IKEA VERSE:

THE GREAT GOTHAM SEWER RACE

CALLING ALL RACERS! Underneath Gotham lay miles of caverns, lava pools, zombie hordes, interdimensional racing tracks, funhouse hallways, a maze full of doors that do not open and lead into a never ending madness, a mysterious banked fog, submerged waterways, ancient temples, and more! Come try your hand at claiming the ultimate prize which lay hidden at the finish line.

If you survive...

Coming 2024!

So... yeah, IKEA Game Verse is getting a third installment. The last chapter of Classification System, should be out sometime within the next month or two, now that I have proper motivation to get it finished. And starting the new year I'll be posting the Great Gotham Sewer Race! Hope this makes up for the months of radio silence (although I have posted a few chapters of my Marvel fic, so I haven't been totally silent).

As always, all comments, suggestions, and ideas are welcome! The bigger and crazier the better and if it's good, there's a high likelihood it'll end up in the story (after all the knowledge of IKEA stores with ball pits was given via comment, and we all know how that panned out.) Think Hanabarbara Wacky Races! If anyone still remembers that show. Tell me who you want to see! ANYONE IN DC is open for consideration, other fandoms are also encouraged (the caverns beneath Gotham are interdimensional and inter-universal!) Tell me if there's any challenge, or obstacle, or event you want to see! I'm open anything and everything.

I hope this sparks excitement for y'all as it has done for me. See you soon!

#maribat #damian x marinette #mlb crossover #maridami #damimari #the great ikea game #the great gotham sewer race #daminette #daimianette #dc x mlb #the ikea verse

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chaoticbardlady99 · 8 months

Text

Maryë (Astarion x GN! AFAB Reader) MDNI 18 +

Synopsis: Astarion left to explore the world and himself following the death of the Netherbrain. You remain in Baldur’s Gate with your brother, Gale, resigning yourself to your fate as Astarion’s friend until you die. Until one day, you and Astarion begin to write letters back and forth. Except there is one letter in particular that you suspect isn’t from Astarion…

CW: minimal mentions of violence, smut, Oral (Female Receiving), PIV, Tav’s also just an oblivious idiot who apparently doesn’t think very hard about words (it’s me, I’m Tav the idiot and this is like my Fiancé and I’s friendship prior to ya know, dating lmfao)

Author note- I might also write this in AMAB! Format, but I need to do some… research first for accuracy. This is lightly edited and just some silly little thought I had. I wanted to write something not so detailed for once while I work on my drafts for Lethal Woman and She’s Not Acid Nor Alkaline. Also def stole a line from Tolkien and added to it at the end (this is me crediting).

You’ll either love this or hate this idk.

The title literally translates to Home in Elvish.

Photo belongs to idk who so please reach out if it’s yours!

As always- likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, I am just terrible at responding.

Tav,

As much as I enjoy our current form of communication- I was wondering if I could come to see you in person.

I have so much I need to say to you and I want to be able to do it in person- the proper way.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours,

Astarion

You sit and stare at the letter like you have been doing for the last week since you received it. Unlike your half-brother, Gale, you are not one for words. It was hard to respond to Astarion’s letters initially until Gale “doctored” your responses- often putting whatever silly accomplishment you have achieved lately or stories Gale found interesting from your recent solo adventures.

“Are you going to write the letter or are you hoping it’s going to write itself?” Gale teases.

You scowl at him and shake your head.

“I don’t know what to write back.”

“I could come up with a couple things!” Gale clears his throat, “‘ Oh Astarion- I’ve missed you terribly this whole time! I regret telling you that we should be friends until you figure things out! Despite my VERY WISE BROTHER’S ADVICE TO NOT DO THAT! I wait like a lovesick puppy at the mailbox every week hoping a letter may arrive!’”

You roll your eyes at him and throw one of his many decorative couch pillows at his head. He certainly has your mother’s flair for the dramatic. However, you can’t necessarily say he’s wrong- you have been nothing less than a smitten school girl waiting for letters non-stop.

Astarion had gone back to the Underdark after the last battle with the Netherbrain. He told you that he wanted to go and explore who he is- the world too.

You had been as enthusiastic as you could about the decision considering you had come up to him at the party with a letter in your hands asking if he would like to continue traveling with you after this- you had been too scared to say it outloud. A part of you hoped it may allow your romance to blossom without the impending threat of death at every corner. Well, if he still harbored any feelings for you at all.

You had merely smiled and told him how excited you are for him. It answered the silent question that had been there- was there still room in Astarion’s heart for you after you said you should just be friends and try again later?

The answer was ‘no’, despite Gale’s perplexed face and lecture when he found out you gave the spawn a send off with a ‘long’ hug (he made you describe it in detail). You refuse to give yourself any hope- you will remain a dutiful friend since you resigned yourself to this fate.

Then you received a Sending spell with him requesting your address and the letters began. You squealed like a schoolgirl when the first one came in and ripped it open enthusiastically. You didn’t realize Gale was home, otherwise you wouldn’t have read it out in the open- Tara snitched on you!

You had only truly met Gale around a couple months prior to your mutual abduction. Your mother had asked you to assist a brother you never knew about in finding magical artifacts- you quickly learned it was because the man was becoming a damn recluse.

You had worried he’d slam the door in your face or turn you into a sheep for all of eternity- the minute you told him your name was Tav Dekarios, he pulled you in for a hug and told you he had been awaiting your arrival. Gale was thrilled to know that, like him, you were also a prodigy in your craft.

You are a virtuoso master with any instrument you touch and you cast spells that are almost far too good to be true. You became Oghma’s Chosen in your teen years after spending many years practicing under his mentorship (which is why you and Gale had a very weird, serious talk one night about how Mystra is kind of a fucking pedophile) and that allowed you to do incredible things.

Your notes could create shimmery images and tell stories- Arabella and the other tiefling children (even the very tough Mol) enjoy coming over and watching war tales be told with nothing but a drum and a rain stick. Sometimes you let them tell tales and you come up with a tune to match it- eventually finding a rhythm to put your mind into and create the picture.

It was one of the many things Astarion mentioned in his note- he stated that none of the other Bards even begin to hold a candle to your talent. You blushed deeply when you read the line.

He told you about everything he had seen, everyone he had met, what he’s found out about himself, and shockingly enough- how much he misses you. It had taken you by total surprise, but you responded saying you missed him too.

Pet names began to flow easily into inked lines and it felt like you had a tiny part of him back in your life- your friendship is still as strong as it was before he left.

The letters have quickly become the best part of your week and occasionally you’ll read them with Arabella. She ooos and awwws, then attempts to bully you into tell Astarion your feelings. You cast a mini rain shower over her head with a few poetic words for the suggestion. You don’t want to ruin what you have and there is always the possibility that he found someone else.

However, you weren’t unsure of this particular note because you didn’t want to see Astarion- you would love that. The issue is that it doesn’t look like his handwriting, it isn’t the paper he uses (he’s ridiculously particular), and it doesn’t flow. Gale thinks you are over analyzing it, but you are pretty sure that this isn’t Astarion’s writing. He also addresses you as “Darling” not Tav and signs the letter of with “‘Órenya ná órelya” (my heart is your heart) not “Yours”.

You’ve waited for another note to come in since, but nothing has. You are beginning to wonder if Gale is right and you really are just being paranoid.

“I already told you, Gale,” you say with annoyance, “something isn’t right about this note. I don’t think this is from him which is worrisome because that means I haven’t heard from him in two weeks WHICH could MEAN-“

“For the love of Gods- TAV,” Gale yells, effectively shutting you up, “my young, oblivious little sibling. Just say yes and let him come visit.”

*********************************************************

It had been two days since you sent the sending stone and there was no response. Not that it would have mattered anyway considering you are somewhere in the Underdark in a very beautifully lit cave. Neon, blue veins of magic run through the rock. The pathway is lit with glowing flowers and…. Benches?

It had all happened so fast. One moment you were walking home from the market and the next- Astarion had come up to you from an alleyway and said he needed help. He had told you that he would love to catch up, but there is an injured child around the corner and since he can only stay in the shadows, he needs you to help them. Before you knew it- someone hit you with a sleep spell and the last thing you remember seeing is stars as your head slammed into the pavement. Oh and a, “oooooffff my bad” before you blacked out.

You blink your eyes a few more times, trying to figure out what in the wretched hells is going on.

“Oh for the love of- I told you to talk to Oghma’s Chosen! Not kidnap her and give her a serious concussion!”

A hazy, short figure comes into your vision. Is that…. a Deep Gnome?

“You told us it was imperative for the wedding! We intercepted the real letter and wrote this one,” another Gnome says, “and it worked! They showed up and everything! We’ve been watching since you told us to talk to her two weeks ago! We were running out of time for talking and bargaining so we just-“

“Kidnapped them!” the man yells, “you kidnapped them!? You- you imbeciles! They are supposed to want to perform for the wedding- you had at least six more hours! AND I GAVE YOU TWO WEEKS!”

“But Walby-“

Walby.

You know Walby! He and Barcus have been dating for a while now and the two are over the moon smitten. You are very happy for Barcus- this man is everything Wulbern could never be.

“No! I have had enough of your silliness! Leave me at once!”

You hear the three Gnomes that supposedly ambushed you walk off in angry huffs. A flash of healing magic fills the air and your head is finally clear- your ears no longer ringing like a triangle.

“My apologies, Ms.Dekarios,” Walby, says, “I wanted them to give you an invitation to come to Barcus’ and I’s wedding this afternoon, but as you heard, they are not the brightest bunch.

“It’s a very last minute ceremony- my mother is ill and she wants to see her ‘baby’ get married before she goes. We wanted to wait another year to plan, but oh you know how it goes!”

Walby looks at you sheepishly as you blink a few more times and let his words sink in. You look at the man and try not to throw up from sitting upright. You must have been out for a while, but not in a “oh that was a wonderful beauty nap” kind of way. You are pretty sure you have a decent amount of blood caked to the side of your head and neck right now.

“Oh, well in that case,” you offer a good natured smile, “I’ll consider this the most unique wedding invitation I’ve ever received and one I may not even have the privilege of remembering.”

The man laughs heartily as you stand up and brush your clothing off. You’re glad you wore a nicer outfit today and decided to bring your violin along- Oghma must have wanted to make sure you were prepared.

“I also wanted to ask a favor,” he says meekly, “if I haven’t fallen out of your good graces before I even stepped foot in them- that is.”

You smile and just roll your eyes.

“Consider it water under the bridge. How can I be of service?”

“Well, you see- we had asked an acquaintance of ours to play music and uh. There’s no easy way to put this, but he was run over by a herd of Deep Rothé.”

“Hmm,” you say with a snort, “tough crowd- Deep Rothés.”

Ultimately, you agreed to perform for the ceremony and the little dinner party afterwards. Your music decorated the air with golds and silvers. Barcus was thrilled to have you there and thanked you immensely for allowing his mother-in-law to “witness true magic” before she leaves this plane.

By the time you were finally leaving- you hear two very familiar voices scream your name and come barreling towards you.

*****************************************

Astarion and Gale are practically sprinting as they try to track your location through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. They had just found a large spot of your blood sticking to the cobblestone and leading to the sewer. Astarion feels sick when he notices the path leads back into the Crimson Palace. Thankfully it was through the sewer and straight to the tunnel of the Underdark.

He had sent you a letter a few days ago and he had confessed his feelings. Instead of waiting for you to respond like a sane person, Astarion got the hell out of the inn he was staying at and began the four day trek to Baldur’s Gate. The nice part about traveling alone and not needing to breath is that Astarion could run from place to place if he was in a hurry or was just fed up with traveling already.

Astarion quickly learned that it was boring to be alone and it’s far more fun to share adventures with you. He also learned that he might be a semi-decent person on his own because, in spite of being without your physical presence, he continues to fucking help people. Astarion is really over this whole moral compass thing (it only extends so far though, he’s still a proud Bastard at heart).

When he arrived at your home about an hour and a half ago, Gale had informed him that you had gone out to the Market and was confused when Astarion said his letter shouldn’t have arrived yet. It took longer than usual to write for… reasons.

Gale showed him the note you received and the two of them pieced together that someone had definitely set up a trap- just not a very good one. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose when Gale told him that you definitely figured out the letter wasn’t from him, but Gale encouraged you to respond anyway.

A part of him is incredibly worried that some of the remaining Bhaal cultists have taken you since they are the only people he could think of that would be able to mimic his form. His stomach still turns when he thinks about the time they realized Orin had taken you. This is giving him the same queasy feeling.

So imagine his and Gale’s surprise when you are walking away from some random spot seemingly unscathed. Except Astarion won’t believe that until he has inspected you for injuries himself.

You look positively shell-shocked to see him and even more surprised when he’s taking your face gently in his hands and begins to check for injuries.

“Are you alright, Darling?” He says in a far more panicked voice than he means to, “we found blood- I thought the worst and your idiot brother! Of course that letter wasn’t from me! I have class, my Dear! I would never use that paper and WHY IN THE HELLS WOULD YOU FOLLOW ME OF ALL PEOPLE!?”

He knows his ‘rage’ doesn’t sound like rage- it sounds like a man who thought his only love had been on the brink of death only moments ago. Astarion is trying to keep a serious face, but the adoration and love in your eyes when you look at him is making him want to dissolve. He’s thrilled to see that after a whole year of not being together that your feelings haven’t waivered. Neither have his, obviously, but that’s why he’s here.

“I will say, Tav,” Gale says with exasperation, “you even gave Tara a fright- you should be expecting a very long lecture when we get home.”

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you say with a beaming smile, your eyes never leaving Astarion’s, “but I do have quite the story if you would like to hear it?”

Astarion’s grin stretches across his entire face.

“I think a good story, better company, and some wine would make for a fine evening, my Dear.”

“Gross!” Gale says, “but I’ll tag along for some wine.”

Oh dammit.

****************************

If Astarion wasn’t so busy feasting upon you- then he probably would have already hunted down those stupid Gnomes that gave him a fright and found a windmill to fling them from. Gale had left only 15 minutes ago, but Astarion had made quick work in getting you up to his room and having his way with you.

The minute Gale left, the conversation became flirty and teasing- all the want that has been pooling in his body is finally getting the release it needs. You, like always, are a sight to behold.

Your back arches when his tongue drags along your clit and Astarion pushes your hips down into the mattress as your arousal paints his lips. Your moans and desperate cries of pleasure are so delicious and his cock is painfully hard, straining against his leather pants.. He is fighting between taking his time and being selfish- chasing his own pleasure inside of you.

The moment you clench around his fingers is the same moment he unlaces his own pants and begins to remove them. You keen and whine underneath him- Astarion’s name sounds the best coming from you in this state.

Astarion should be a gentleman, hypothetically, and maybe give you a half a second to be a little less dazed from your orgasm. Except Astarion isn’t a gentleman and he isn’t patient- at all.

Astarion lifts your hips up to his until the head of his cock is aligned with your entrance and he thrusts himself inside of you. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips with a yelp of pleasure and your eyes flutter wildly as you take his whole length. Astarion smiles down at you as he slowly rocks in and out of you.

Your fingers find their way to his hair and you pull Astarion’s face down to yours- stunning him with a mind numbing kiss. He snaps his hips at the sensation and the moan you let out causes whatever resolve he had to break. Astarion releases the hold you have on his lips and kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“Did you like that, my Love?”

You hum in approval and try to pull his mouth back to yours. He interrupts you by thrusting into you two more times with more power than the first one.

“Asta-,,” you attempt to say his name between thrusts, “Astarion please.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Pet,” he teases, “I don’t even know if I know what you like anymore- maybe you don’t even like thi-“

Your legs tighten around his hips as he goes to pull completely out of you. Astarion quirks his eyebrow at you with a smirk as you look at him with desperation.

“I more than liked it- I loved it,” you whisper with your cheeks burning from your shyness.

Oh and how Astarion loves your shyness. His hands fist the sheets as he starts his agonizingly slow rhythm inside of you again- whimpers falling from deep within your chest.

“See, Darling,” Astarion says as his face falls into the crook of your neck, “that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before Astarion’s hips begin to pick up speed and his mouth covers yours. As much as he loves to hear you moan- he doesn’t care to share that experience with any of the patrons that had been obviously checking you out while you were catching up.

Astarion groans against your lips as he continues to fuck you relentlessly- his fangs nip at your lower lip and lap at the tiny droplets of blood that seep from the punctures.

You are a mess underneath him and you feel incredible in every way possible. Astarion never wanted this to stop in the first place- back when he had told you his feelings and you said it would be best to be friends for the time being.

Perhaps that’s what causes him to slow down and kiss you deeply- making up for the lack of speed with more force. One of his hands trails along your chest and begins to tease your sensitive nipples- your walls clench around him hard when he begins to pinch and roll the right one and your orgasm coats him as he moves to play with the left.

You kiss him sloppily and he’s lazily thrusting into you- his own Little Death following yours within seconds. Astarion collapses on top of you as he begins to soften inside of you. The smell of you and him mixed together is intoxicating and your heartbeat is hammering from the pleasure- your eyes glassy and tired with bliss. He laughs breathily before placing a kiss on your swollen lips.

Astarion lifts you up ever so slightly so that he can pull the blanket down and over you, then he adjusts himself and you so that you are curled up with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair absentmindedly and you lightly draw shapes on his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you say sleepily, “I’ve missed you so much.”

I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Astarion says while pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m happy to be home.”

“Oh I’m sure Baldur’s Gate is-“

“You are my home,” Astarion interrupts you, “I’ve come to realize that wherever you are is where I want to be.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes and happiness in your heart.

“But what about exploring your new life and all of that jazz?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for you,” Astarion states, “you helped me kill Cazador and break the cycle of ongoing abuse. You gave me life so I could live it and I want to live it with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just being friends and holding back my feelings. I want to share my life with you.

“I know this may all seem very fast, but” Astarion grabs his pants off the ground and he feels his stomach turn as he pulls the box out of his pocket, “I know I love you- that’s probably the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my entire 239 years of existence. I- I wanted to know if you would… marry me?”

Your lips are on his within seconds and the two of you become entangled in soft kisses until you have to pull back for air. You lean your forehead against his and meet his gaze.

“I love you so much, Astarion. Yes- yes I will marry you,” you say tearfully, “I want to share my life with you too.”

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marchsfreakshow · 2 months

Text

Kai and stalker!reader thoughts.

18+! Minors DNI

This is deranged and dark. Don't read ahead if you aren't comfortable with this stuff.

Stalker!R who just goes to one of Kai's speeches and practically falls to their knees.

Stalker!R who instantly finds him online and starts following him, putting on notifications for his posts. Responding and sharing every thought he puts down on social media.

Kai who notices the same person in his notifications almost as soon as he posts.

Kai who is intrigued by the user: "AndersonSupporter1" some variants popping up as others also notice Stalker!R on Kai's socials.

Stalker!R who's found out about his family, his place, and what his favourite things are just like that. Writing them all down to keep them ingrained in their head.

Stalker!R who occasionally walks past Kai's place in the evenings. Just to admire it. They can feel their need and admiration for the blue haired man increase.

Kai who is constantly wanting to know more about this no.1 supporter of his.

Kai who takes note of every person in the crowds. To see if anyone stands out. Not one person does.

He watched you. You watched him. A mutual infatuation in silence. It was heart racing. Subtle eye contact during his speeches. During his cult meetings. Always sitting yourself in the shadows. While you wanted to be seen, you wouldn't let it happen until you were comfortable enough. Until you were insane enough.

Barely speaking to him. Barely saying a word. Just appreciating Kai in silence. Sitting in the shadows of the already dim basement. Waiting for the correct moment. Murmuring your answers along with the louder, confident answers. Obviously the blue haired man noticed. He couldn't not notice. "You. Stay."

Everyone dispersed, you emerged from the shadows. Kai's suspicions of you only rose. "I could not hear you as well as everyone else? Is a wimpy sore throat stopping you?"

"No divine ruler."

"then what's stopping you?"

What lie would you come up with? What would convince the ruler in front of you that you just couldn't speak in front his presence? "You know, I've always wanted a stalker." He bent down slightly, intrigued by your answer. "One who is so devoted to loving or hating me, that they spend every moment of their worthless existence, climbing ranks to be seen by me."

"that sounds pathetic divine ruler." A blatant lie, but one you hoped would fool your saviour.

"you are pathetic aren't you?" Sudden grip on your head, bringing you close. The only ounce of emotion you've felt, suddenly expressed in your gasp and shock. Sudden wide eyes, open lips, his soul baring into yours. "You truly do suprise me...my shadow lamb. Hm, that sounds juvenile. You are my lamb. The one who loves me and dedicated everything to me. That sounds about right doesn't it?"

Silence as your mind went blank. Kai. Kai Anderson was really touching you. Holding you. Gripping your head ever harder, to prove his point. His free hand staying still by his side. Itching to touch you in some way. "doesn't it?" He repeated, wanting a reply. But a heavy sigh escaped him before you could respond. "My fingers itch.."

"...it does sound right divine ruler."

"there you go. Good little lamb." He cooed, teasing still. Rules were suddenly thrown in your face. Told to go home and learn the rules.

"Kai's Rules For The Stalker

1) Never EVER, present photos of the cult meetings to those outside of the know.

2) keep stalking me: respond to my posts. Share them. Like every single comment and response I post.

3) Keep yourself shadowed.

4) you don't get special treatment unless I say so.

5) when I call shadow, you must appear before the cult, and follow what I say. "

What a quaint and odd set of rules. But you blindly followed it. Exhibitionism. Predator and Prey. Voyeurism. Whatever he requested in front of the cult, you did. He wanted you to be a good example of a 'proper' lover. What ever that meant.

Suppose there was good to come out of being the cult leader's stalker.

#ahs #evan peters #american horror story #ahs cult #american horror story cult #Cult #kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x y/n #kai anderson x you #ahs fic #kai anderson imagine #angst #ahs imagine

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itsnevercasual · 9 months

Text

All I Want For Christmas Is You

part i

pairing: harry styles x fan!singer!reader

summary: harry shows up at your show twice. you're more excited the first time.

warnings: some cursing, some angst, nothing else really!

“happy christmas to you as well,” you answered.

you expected it to be awkward, stiff, forced — anything, really. anything but so alarmingly easy to talk to the same man you obsessed over for years.

i mean, your head was screaming and your insides were turning but on the outside, it was easy.

and the last thing — the last, the very, very last — thing you expected him to do was tug you over to the legendary anne twist and gemma styles.

“y/n, this is m’mum, anne, and m’sister gemma,” he introduced.

you gave what you hoped wasn’t (but knew was) an awkward smile and waved, “hi.”

gemma just threw herself up from the seat and hugged you, “it’s so good to meet you!”

she said that as if you’d known harry for more than fifteen minutes.

or, he’d known you. you knew at the very least of him for 8 years now.

“you too!” you responded, because it felt like the proper reaction.

anne pulled you into a hug as well, albeit far more calm than gemma.

“you did lovely, dear. you have a very nice voice.”

“thank you,” you blushed, even more so when you felt a ring-clad hand rest on your lower back.

“i’m gonna steal her away now. just thought i’d introduce you all.”

you honestly can’t remember what on earth you were so worried about. harry was easy to talk to, and he actually seemed interested in what you were saying. he payed for every little fruity drink you ordered.

and he ordered you so many — you ordered them, he tried to cut you off numerous times but you always swatted him away — that you said probably the stupidest thing ever when your friends mentioned heading out soon.

“d’you wanna come with us? we’ll probably go to jen’s and get blackout drunk,” you laugh.

and you… oh. well, you were just so cute when you asked. wide eyes, dilated pupils from three too many fruity drinks, and a hopeful smile that bordered on just a little anxious, that.. well, really, how could he say no?

“you are already well on your way to blackout drunk,” he teased.

“hey!” you smacked his arm, causing him to laugh and put his hands up in surrender. “and.. i mean, i suppose i can hang around for a bit,” he shrugged. “no harm, right?”

oh, how wrong he was. there was harm in it. so much, in fact. the two of you spent the whole night cuddled up together on jen’s couch until he noticed you falling asleep on him.

he excused the both of you and drove you home, which was a task in and of itself because you were so tired and drunk you didn’t understand what he was asking when he asked what your address was.

and then, when the two of you arrived, he made a comment about how unsafe the area was and how he felt bad leaving you in the house alone. made you promise to lock your doors all the time, and made another comment you almost didn’t catch.

“jus’ gonna have t’find you a better place. this won’t do, pet.”

and you, really, were just expecting his presence in your life to be a one and done thing. but it wasn’t. you woke up the next morning to a text from an unknown number.

Unknown

Had to go home to Mum and Gem, or else I’d have stayed with you in case you got sick. There’s Advil and water on your nightstand. Text me when you’re up. Happy Christmas, again.

H xx

and if you weren’t borderline obsessed with him before, you were now.

the two of you saw each other at least once a week after that. you went to his birthday party and everything. then, on valentines day, he asked you on a date. the two of you went on dates for all of february until he finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

and you said yes. so, you were his girlfriend.

he stayed true to his comment. he bought you a place in the heart of london. a very luxurious, expensive flat. went to all of your gigs like the supportive, doting boyfriend he is.

or.. was.

you dated until june. when he all of a sudden texted you some utter bullshit about ‘not being able to do this anymore’ and cut all contact. blocked your number and on all social medias— although, he didn’t block the secret fan accounts you never told him about which is the only way you knew a crumb of what was going on in his life.

you chose to not go to tabloids for that. they never told the truth, anyway.

the one thing he didn’t stop, though, was paying your rent. you almost wanted to buy your own place and abandon this one to spite him. but how could you?

he left you with the damn dog, too.

oh, that’s right.

the two of you adopted a small beagle in march, right after you moved in. named it sunflower, because he called you sunflower.

(he also found it hilarious that whenever he’d call ‘sunflower’, both of you would appear).

you didn’t even have the heart to rip down all the photos of the two of you throughout the apartment.

they just sat there, collecting dust.

when christmas rolled around again, it was safe to say you were heartbroken at best, depressed at worst.

you moped all day, even when you and your friends opened presents in your apartment.

“so… y/n..” jen spoke as you all were eating dinner.

“hm?” you hummed back.

“did you see what harry did?”

everyone froze.

harry was a sore subject, even six months after the break up.

you cleared your throat, going back to cutting your steal, “uh.. no. no, i didn’t. what?”

“he dropped an album called fine line—“

“oh, good for him, i guess,” you shrug.

“uh.. he.. he dropped it on your.. birthd.. day..” she let out slowly.

you dropped your utensils. “he did what now?”

“.. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said anything—“

“he left me— i woke up one morning, and he was just gone and all i get is some stupid fucking text about how he can’t do this anymore, and he pulls this shit? no. no, i’m— absolutely fucking not—“

“that’s.. not.. it,” she winced.

“what? what else could he have possibly done?”

“there’s a song on the album. uh.. called.. sunflower..”

you stood up from the table and stormed to your room, slamming the door.

when you woke up, it was the next day.

and you had a text.

cuntface (harry)

I got your voicemail… baby, I am so sorry. I should’ve asked about the song, and the album. Dropping it on your birthday was uncalled for. I’m sorry. I should’ve reached out. I shouldn’t have even left.

sent at 8:57pm

Baby, come on. Please answer. I’m sorry. Are you alright?

sent at 11:22pm

that motherfucker left you in the dust without a second though, and he had the nerve to act concerned about you? what the hell did you even say in the voicemail?

you tapped a few buttons on your phone until finding said voicemail. you hit play.

“you have a lot of nerve, you know that, harry? you fucking leave me with no other reason besides ‘i can’t do this anymore’.. like.. what kind of fucking excuse is that? and you left me with our fucking dog! our dog! that you named after what you called me! which, by-the-fucking way is a fucking song on this apparent new album of yours that you dropped on my birthday like i was the problem in our relationship! fuck you, harry. fuck you for everything. i-.. god, i can’t even say i hate you, because.. i don’t. i don’t fucking hate you, and i hate that i don’t hate you because i should. i should fucking hate you so much, but i don’t. i’m still in love with you and it’s so fucking pathetic. and that’s your fault. so fuck you, harry. fuck you. you’re not the only one who can write songs.”

you furrowed your brows at the last sentence you said in the voicemail. you didn’t write a song about him, did you?

and then you glanced at your nightstand, and your songbook was thrown open. a whole song written out on a page you are very sure was blank before.

you grab the book, examining the now tear-stained pages before reading the song title.

i should hate you.

well, that’s fitting.

on new years eve, you had a show at the same bar you met harry at. and at the very end of your set, you performed the song you wrote about him.

“so, uh.. i’ve played here before, actually. last christmas, and uh.. i met this.. this guy. huge crush on him, all that shit. we talked for a while, dated for a few months, got a dog together and then he.. just.. kinda left? and didn’t reach out for six months until i cussed him out in a voicemail, where i basically said i was still in love with him!” you laugh awkwardly.

the audience laughs, too.

“so, uh.. yeah. and then after that i was just, like.. i should hate him, so why don’t i? and.. that’s what this song is. this called i should hate you.”

you backed away from the mic slightly as you started strumming and the audience clapped.

“last night i spiraled alone in the kitchen. making pretend that the furniture listened. wasn’t the best of my mental conditions, but i tried thinking of you without any forgiveness.. because i was the one who would stay up and call you. and i’d drive to your house for the shit that you went through.”

driving to his house anytime the press did something to upset him. calling him when he was miles away and it was three in the morning, and you had a shift at the coffee shop at six.

“and i wasted my breath when i tried to console you, didn’t i?”

anytime she’d comfort him about the horrible things tabloids said, he’d reject it.

“‘cause we didn’t happen the way we were supposed to.”

in your head, you were happily together and nothing ever went wrong in june. he was in the audience tonight cheering you on, smiling at you when you made eye contact. that’s how it should.

“i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. pulled the knife out my back, it was right where you left it.”

trying to console you after your voicemail, months too late.

“but you aimed kinda perfect, i’ll give you the credit.”

you opened up to him and it felt like he used that against you when he left like that. he knew exactly how to make it hurt to the point it was unbearable.

“i just drank something strong to try to forget, but it wasn’t right. no, you’re not even here, but you’re doing my head in. i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. ooh, ooh. i should hate you, i feel stupid like i almost crashed my car driving home to talk about you at my table in the dark.”

you did do that. you went to one of your spots in london (a little book store that was rarely busy) and afterwards, you sped home so fast you almost crashed. you just needed to talk about him, but nobody was home. because he left.

“all i ever think about is where the hell you even are.”

you always wondered where he was, how he was doing, if he hurt the way you did. if he felt it right in his chest the way you did.

“and i swear to god i’d kill you if i loved you less hard.”

you’d kill him if you didn’t love him. you’d hate him if you weren’t still in love with him.

“after all of this time, i still get disappointed.”

after the voicemail, you expected him to show up at your door and fix everything. he didn’t. of course, he didn’t. because, even if he still payed for the house, it wasn’t his home anymore. it was just yours.

“bet you’re doing alright, and you don’t even know it.”

from the bits and pieces you managed to see of his life, he was living it up. while you cried.

“how it’s all ‘cause of you that my standards are broken.”

before, you’d been like every other girl. saying your standards were high, because your standards were harry styles. it just so happened to be that he was the one to lower those standards.

“i would bend back to you if you left the door open..”

if he came back, you’d come running.

“i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. ooh, ooh. i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. ooh, ooh.”

with the last note, you bowed. and then left the stage as everyone cheered.

you planned on just leaving. but something in you wanted a drink before hopping in the uber. so you ran up to the bar.

“a shirley temple, please,” you asked.

the bartender nodded and you sat in silence (save for the usual noise of the bar) until—

“y/n.”

a familiar voice. too familiar. it made you freeze.

your name from his lips was a statement. not a question, this time.

you finally turned, your eyes meeting familiar green ones.

“.. harry.”

deja fucking vu.

“i am so—“

“here’s your shirley temple to go, ma’am.”

you have never been more grateful for a drink. you turned and thanked the bartender quietly, grabbing the drink before speeding off.

“wh— y/n!”

you kept walking until you were halfway down the street and he grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn around.

“don’t. don’t do this, don’t run away from me— from us—“

“you ran away from us first, harry! i was all in! i was ready for whatever, and you just up and left like it meant nothing— like i meant nothing! do you know how that felt? do you even have an idea of what the felt like?”

he didn’t say anything.

“i didn’t think so.”

“please, baby— sunflower, i jus’ wanna talk.”

“i have nothing to say to you, harry.”

a/n: … hahahaha!

#harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles ficmas #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #ficmas

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blingblong55 · 1 year

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✨Hello✨ I would like some Headcannons of 141 + könig with a gen z reader who's on the older side (like, 20-25) at first they were besties with soap, but then they became good friends with everyone. They are one of the very few people who can bother the shit out of ghost and live to tell the tale. All of 141 and könig have had their nails painted/makeup done by reader, and once a week AT LEAST, reader and the 141 + könig have a ✨ s p a d a y ✨ face mask, manicures, pedicures, you name it and the reader, 141 + könig have probably done it. Reader is also ver affectionate. Their name can be whatever you want it to be. Have a good day/night, eat, drink water, and don't overwork yourself or I'll find you and hit you with a steel frying pan. Love ya 😁

I love the way you show your love for me!!

Material Girl- 141+König

Not a proper hc...I think (idk my brain isn't braining rn)

Gn!reader! Smut at the end so warning!!

It's been forever since you arrived at base. 141, mainly Ghost nicknamed you rooks, short for rookie, also short like you. "Sergeant rooks, get over here." "rooks you sure 'bout this?" "Hey rooks, wanna hang out" god did it exhaust you, but it was all banter. Nothing more.

Soap soon after you had arrived at base became your best friend, only friend in the eye of others. He knew almost everything of the tiny rookie that had become his friend. Price didn't get it at first. How someone so smart as you had befriended his Scott soldier. But soon after seeing you and him explode different things around base he understood, "not about the level of knowledge but by how dumb they both are." It took 5 months for them all to be open to you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"ghost...ghost...heeeeyyyyy ghooossstttt" you whispered yelled (does that make sense? hope it does)

"yes rooks?" His voice hinting at his frustration.

You jumped from behind and made him jump. "Just wanting to see if you were still alive" "3 laps around base, go"

----

And after much fight, he got used to you. Always making extra coffee for the days he knew you'd be around the most. He felt like a teacher with you and soap around. "If you do that, don't ya think it'll explode" then he saw your wheels turn. "that'll be awesome!"

----

"fuck off Janet. im not goin to your fucking baby shower?"

"Who the fucks is that sergeant?"

Man did you annoy him with quotes from tiktok, but he loved how every time you would laugh at literal dark jokes, others would consider a sigh of a mental illness. "Die bitch...dieeee!!" You said as he killed a spider. He soon chased you with it. And as always you cried a little.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When the team found you stressed after a mission, they asked soap what a day off in your life looked like. "They better thank us for this." Price sighed as he, ghost and König prepared the common room to seem like a comfy living space.

"Ghost, you're next..what color would you like?" you looked up at him, annoyance leaked from his eyes. "Black..all black" You look around your kit, "I have glittery black? will that work?" your curious eyes starring at his, "fine" he responded. Gaz took pictures and sent them to the group chat, the same one he left because of your stupid daily memes.

"This is worse than torture."

"Do you or do you not feel bonita?" you smiled as you carefully painted his nails. He hesitated, "I feel bonita" . "Wonderful because you look Bonita!" you squealed, your hands cheerfully in the air.

Then it was König's turn, "nails or makeup mister?" you kindly asked. "pick makeup, their skin care routine after the removal makes your skin so smooth." gaz said as he caressed his own face. "Makeup, but just do my eyes please, ja?" You understood why his request was so odd, but you complied. Once you did his eyes: "gosh you look prettier than me, König!" he blushed at your comment. "Lift your mask, and I'll do your lips, want to see how pretty this shade will look on my pretty boy." you made way as he lifted his mask, "Pretty, pretty lips" his smile giving him away.

"Price?" "m'fine with the nails, thanks"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was a Wednesday night, that you and the team designated for spa days. You bought them those soft hair bands with different shapes and colors. Ghost and König agreed on wearing surgical masks just for this activity. All of the tough soldiers reclined on sofas as you went around and applied face masks and cucumber for aesthetics. ----

Soap enjoyed how your hands would massage his hair. It was something you had mentioned, when he applied black war paint on his hair and you gasped. "If you want hair masks just ask Johnny! don't gotta kill me with this!" you exclaimed on the field.

----

They all had robes on, you even ordered those foot massager machines for them. And when you were done with their masks, you would lay on the floor with pillows around. You read, and sprayed the room with different aromas. Sometimes when you felt hippie enough you would walk around with incense.

----

It was the only time you went around taking pictures, they soon found out because you accidentally airdropped one to Gaz, who made it his profile on the group chat.

----

"it smells horrible" ghost would say, "shh im cleansing you honey" your calm voice making him more scared, what if you accidentally lit him on fire, something that soap had done to gaz when he too felt like a hippie.

"thank you hase (bunny)" König would always keep you close when this whole thing was happening, his excuse was that your body heat was comfortable to him, in reality, he just needed an excuse to have you near.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It was a routine that you had created with them. For Ghost and König, you always spent the nights with either of them, you would stay up and wait until they needed you. Hugs from these two were the best. Soldiers stared and they would give them 'the' look. (you comment on this..I kill what you love)

"König it's time for hugs!" you jumped and he catched you, your head on his chest, "You are kind mein König," you used that only when he needed to be brought back after a tough mission.

----

Soap and you had physical touch as love language, so showing him your affection was easy. You'd give his hands a squeeze or rubbed his shoulders and this man would just stand there, taking all the affection you could give. Sometimes it was him who would hug you so tight, you thought you might pass out.

"too much love" you would remind him. "m'sorry, felt like giving it all today" he would chuckle.

----

Price was different, this man needed affection when having smoke competitions.

"learned this one on tiktok," you inhaled and perfect circle flew around. "S'good, getting better." He would stare in amusement as the circle of smoke disappeared. But at times he did need a hug. So when the day needed a little snuggle, he would approach you. "Feeling a little cold today, you?" and you would just hug him tight. "Do you feel my love?" you smiled as your face was deep in his man boobs (man am I a whore for man boobs..so squishy and shit)

----

Gaz needed affection in fun ways. So every morning you would send him memes, or tease him about something. "S'not funny." "My uncle broke his neck tap-dancing once." and back to giggles it was. At times since you and him were somewhat the same age, you'd send tiktoks to one another.

"Gaz can you serve" He would pose and you'd laugh, "no like serve your country" and he'd salute. "Fucks sake was that." ghost would whisper to Price. "Maybe if we don't move, they won't notice us."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(please tell me this is what you meant when you said "done it" cuz if not,,,them im putting myself on blast here)

NSWF(kinda) MINORS DNI!!!

MANHANDLED im telling you!!!

These man were starving for some sex. So when the opportunity rose, you as a decent person, homie hopped. (I would too, so no shame here)

It first started with Ghost, then König. Then the two men with you(yes..threesome bc we only live once). Soap would probably find the three of you fucking. It would be on accident though. He was walking around base when he heard you scream, and when he opened the door you were in between the two big men.

After a week of witnessing the naked horrors of his superior and friends he would talk to you. "I was tempted." you confessed. "Mind doing me next?" he bluntly said. "I mean, would you be up for it?" "Now? or later?" he looked at you, soon later it was you and him and the same room he had caught you in.

Then like a good father and son, price and gaz shared you. And I mean SHARED. You didn't hesitate, mainly because you had a thing for gaz since the beginning, but price was more of a fantasy that turned real.

It took a little bit of convincing, and a lot of drinking and smoking (green plant activities ) to be in the presence on them all.

Gang bang? anyone? Anyways, it was a sworn secret that was called a one time thing. But after the 3rd time of the one time thing it was just a team building exercise for sure. (monthly so you would be able to walk properly)However after every mission Ghost and König would fuck the anger off of their system. Price understood why you wouldn't be able to make it to some training days, those were also the days he had fun with "excuse or not you better pay your debt"

tags: @g4y-gr3ml1n

REQUEST ARE OPEN!!

A/N: please tell me you understood why the title is that?

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serenelia · 6 months

Text

ᴍᴀꜱQᴜᴇʀᴀᴅᴇ

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ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴀᴍᴏᴜᴄʜᴇ/ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Content includes: SFW, mentioned vampire Harbinger Childe, ball room dancing that's probably all over the place, the reader experiences stress (to say the least) and vomits.

Scroll away if you don't entertain any au's regarding vampires, witches, and hunters. Also this is quite long (yes again), almost two-thousand and five hundred words, grab a drink!

If you haven't read the first part: ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟʟ

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Before she could even begin to theorize who the person was, she’s promptly shut up once he ceases spinning her around and intertwines their hands. One of his hands takes hers from the same side and places it on his shoulder, resting his on her waist soon after. The gentleman looks.. soft; compared to his intimidating gaze and aura, his features are similar to those of a porcelain doll. A pretty one at that. If one were to differentiate between Childe and him, she could definitely say with confidence that the stranger is more pleasing to the eyes, one would be easy to be distracted by such a man.

The two stared at each other as they swayed gently from side to side, and [Name] felt her breath be taken away upon examining his face even further. Illuminated by the bright light of the chandelier above, his soft indigo-colored hair framing his soft cheeks, his pale skin, and sharp eyes perfectly compliment his very being; even [Name] could feel herself slowly starting to get insecure in his presence. And upon shifting her gaze to his lips, she could see the corner of his lips quirk up and the shine of a sharp and long fang.

[Name] gulps. “Is it too late to back out now?” the stranger muses, evidently entertained by her previous comment that was very obviously for the man she danced with before.

“..My apologies, dear sir; I had intended that for my previous dance partner, Childe, who.. had suddenly left.” She forces herself to look away, her gaze locking with the audience as she turns away, and sees Childe scurrying away in the crowd, not even bothering to look back at her.

Well, it's not like she wanted him to, but she was hoping he'd be attached somehow. Those make the killings easier.

The latter snorts, “Do you…” His laughter dies down as quickly as it came, and [Name] didn’t have enough time to react as he abruptly raised their intertwined hands and spun her around, eliciting a surprised gasp from the lady.

He slows her down after a few spins, intentionally making her land right on his chest. He places a careful hand on her back, pulling her closer, and he whispers, “When dancing with someone, it's rather rude to focus on other people, don't you think?”

“…” Her eyes widened, her mind turning to mush at their nonexistent distance, and her heart started beating loudly in her chest. Yet before she could even respond, he swiftly maneuvered her back to her previous place and started swaying them once again, wearing a small but polite smile.

“..My apologies; I was simply confused for a mere moment.” [Name] says through gritted teeth, mentally cursing at the rate of her heart at that one cheesy action. How many more times is he going to spin her around?!

“Forgiven,” he replies, a smirk growing on his lips. “I am Scaramouche, the 6th of the Eleven Harbingers. I must apologize for my fellow Harbinger’s actions. I’ll make sure to ask him to give you a proper apology later.”

[Name] smiles back politely and shakes her head. “Good evening, Sir Scaramouche, I am Lady [Name]. You ought not to, I’m sure the matter is something of outmost importance for him to handle.”

“Even if that is so, it’s still rather rude to leave your dance partner in the middle of it.”

“You need not to fret; I take no offense to it.”

Scaramouche squints his eyes. “Lying is not a very friendly mannerism to a stranger, is it?" he says, tilting his head to the side and peering down at her.

forcing a smile, [Name] made an effort to avoid glaring at him, “Quite so, though, may I ask why you took it upon yourself to replace my previous partner?” her charm was working marvelously on Childe, a little more would have him end up in her lab. Why did he have to intervene?

The Harbinger replies in a sly tone, “Upon realizing his gaze would inevitably stray away from you, I had to clean up after him to make sure he doesn’t do more harm than good.”

[Name] raises a brow, “Then one should not bother himself with a fleeting matter such as this, I assure you, there is no need to occupy your time with a dance.” She removes her hand from his shoulder and takes a step backward with her body following suit, accompanied by an outreached hand; the latter does the same and assists her once she spins herself and lands carefully near his chest. His hands outlining her waist, she wraps her arms around his neck and threw her head back as Scaramouche leans her downward.

She tries her utmost best to avoid ogling his face, “Why, there is no need to belittle this wonderful dance; I am finding it rather enjoyable, so consider my time well occupied.” Scaramouche praises, though [Name] could clearly see the empty words behind it.

He guides her back to her feet by the waist, “I am incredibly honored to hear such.” [Name] lies, moving her hands from his neck back to his shoulders as they started swaying side to side, frowning at his natural beauty and nonchalant behavior.

a flicker of doubt crosses his face, “..I find myself honored as well to be able to speak to you, Lady [Name].”

[Name] forces out a smile.

silence overruns the space between them, both plastering polite smiles on their faces, one more visible than the molecule of a smile the other has. After a few more seconds of their bodies swaying, they switched their perspective positions and once again intertwined their hands together. [Name] takes a step back before raising their hands to hang above her head to be able to place herself by his side, facing the opposite direction with their arms resting on top of each other.

To her surprise, it was he who broke the silence between them: “How does one find the event so far? I hope it suits to your adequate tastes.”

[Name] glances at him from behind. Is he one of the people who arranged the whole event? Or maybe well acquainted with the person who did?

Perhaps she should watch her mouth from now on.

“This event has been wonderful so far; I can tell a lot of effort has been put into it to make it satisfactory for both races,” she replies, which, in a way, is true.

Scaramouche suppresses what sounds like a scoff: “Yes, this whole event wishes to bring both the human race and the vampire race together.” The two break off the physical connection between their arms and held hands, with Scaramouche raising them as [Name] spins herself before doing the same for the latter. After he spins, they repeat their outstretched arms by their sides. “I must say, this whole idea is rather.. idealistic. Don’t you think so?” he continues, gaze glued to her figure during the whole step.

[Name] remains silent for a second longer. “Why does one think so?" she asks, her eyes finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. They each took a step to meet at the center and held hands, withdrawing for a mere moment before letting go of one pair as she started to slowly walk in a circle around him, with Scaramouche having to adjust his hand over his head once she made her way behind him.

“Anyone who had proper education would be able to process that.. ideas like that are just utterly impossible. It defies the natural law in the food chain, no? With who has the most favor in the eyes of the “gods,” it’s pretty obvious whose more deserving to rule.” Scaramouche states.

[Name] could almost trip at the absurdity of his belief. “…Is that so?”

He tilts his head once they come to face each other. “Do you not agree, Miss [Name]?”

“I.. don’t have a particular view on that subject,” [Name] mutters, lowering her head slightly to avoid his unwavering stare. Aside from the predicament she finds herself in, at least she can confirm that this gentleman is a vampire. A psychopathic human who would be willing to be a blood bag for vampires doesn’t seem to be a plausible explanation. It is also worth adding the glimpse of a fang she saw earlier, further supporting her theory. The only remaining challenge here is figuring out where he prefers his blood to come from.

They repeat their outstretched hands from their side, and [Name] could feel her anxiety (or could it be giddiness?) spike up once she felt his hands embrace the sides of her waist firmly after she spun herself to land with her back to his chest, “To be able to grasp the true reality of this hierarchy-focused world, one must adapt their beliefs and get rid of this foolish agenda,” he speaks up while lifting her carefully into the air, her feet kicking purely out of instinct at the loss of ground beneath her. [Name]’s heart rate only increases as he spins himself around, taking her along with it, her beautiful dress a dazzling display for the awed audience.

He swiftly gently places her back on the ground, their hands instinctively finding their way to each other, “Only in that way can you accomplish your desired goals,” Scaramouche adds, his eyes boring onto her whole being with silent but much perceived expectations. [Name] feels the overwhelming urge to run away to her bones; she feels naked around him. With the way he worded his sentences and the tone along with them, it was as if he knew everything about her already.

Cold sweat drips down her back.

What does he mean by that?

Does he mean something more?

Does he know I’m a witch hunter already?

Is he going to expose me?

Oblivious to her panic, Scaramouche continues dancing to the music, seemingly thinking she’s merely thinking about it in her head. He decides to take the lead. His hand always with hers as they became the sole partners left dancing under the light. Their movements were graceful and calculated, appearing to be peaceful for both parties, with the exception of [Name], whose expression slowly turned to one of morbid horror the longer they danced. Scaramouche, for some reason, doesn’t react whatsoever, only keeping a small smile on his face. Only giving rise to her unparalleled feeling of distraught.

The cheerful atmosphere inside the manor suddenly becomes claustrophobic, and the space around her seems to be choking all the air remaining inside her lungs. She needed to get out of there fast. She had underestimated the gravity of her whole situation; she had overestimated herself.

When will this dance end?

The music provided by the musicians was constantly fighting with the dominating ringing in her ears, the muffled voices of the audience increasing and decreasing in volume; it pierced her ears, yet it was almost as quiet as the soft whisper of the wind. Her feet stumbling even at the perfectly made marble floor, her heels screeching upon contact, they trip among themselves, every spin and turn made, but never did she make an attempt to run away. She can’t.

It’s all too much. She could feel the merciful brush of the wind upon her hair, the warm touch of the light above, the tight hug of the corset in her chest, yet the most primary of all, his penetrating gaze set on her, the strong scent of his cologne hazing her mind, his cold touch on her clothed skin, leaving a burning sensation behind. Every trail of his finger from her hand to her shoulder, down to her waist, creates a shockwave of shivers that resonates with her very core.

Please, please, have pity on me, gods!

Let this night end!

Suddenly, everything stops.

The crowd applauds as the music slows down, and they’re both standing in the middle of the circle, facing one another. [Name] had to take a moment to process it. She scans the room around her, and with her raggedy breathing, she can’t find it in herself to say anything, let alone breathe in his presence.

It’s… over?

Something heavy and tight presses itself against her neck, and she involuntarily flinches. Her hand immediately shoots up to her collar; it grasps on nothing. The imaginary force’s hold on her tightens as she locks gazes with Scaramouche. “I thank you again for having this dance with me, Miss [Name]. I hope the rest of the night treats you well.” He purrs and takes her hand up to his lips, pressing a light kiss on the glove.

She clutches her free hand tightly, “..To you too… Sir.” [Name] manages to croak out, barely hearing him over the sound of her heart in her ears and the audience’s amazement.

And with that, he lets go of her hand and leaves his station, blending in with the crowd only a few seconds later, and [Name] is left on her spot, frozen. Looking in his direction with a chill up her spine, this mission was too precious to give up, but was it really worth it just for her experiment?

Her stomach twists and turns in her throat, and [Name] makes quick work with her feet in finding the restroom.

She hastily washes her mouth and hands after exiting the cubicle, banging her hands onto the sink counter repeatedly.

Curse him, curse him, curse him!

her voice strains itself in her throat, tempting her to let it out, but imagining the possibility a fellow guest walking in on her and having to explain brings a blush to her cheeks and a headache in her already dazed head. So she settles by whispering it loudly to herself instead, resulting to her coughing into the sink as flashbacks of the previous dance floods her mind. She takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, but it proved to be useless meditation for his smell clouded her sense of smell everywhere she turns. Oh, how she wishes she could wash it off her right this moment.

It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.

the sensation of dread and excitement only continued to plague her mind. It never occurred to her—the real danger of being undercover and having a dance with your victim. It was as if the gods were punishing her and keeping her humble.

She scoffs and takes out a small container she kept hidden in her, opening it before applying the ingredients imbedded in it to her lips, wrists, and neck.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

..this was originally supposed to be like 5k words but I held back (my schedule partook in it too). Truly, I was supposed to make this plus two more scenes all in one post, but I was editing and decided to check the word count and... almost 2,500k words... And I know that'll be a mouthful 😪 and I thought that if I delay it further I was afraid ya'll would lose interest and would probably forget about it, haha.

Apart from my self-pity, I really enjoyed making this! Took me like 5 days for this and the rest of the outline.. It was still enjoyable nonetheless. So I hope it's a joyful read too!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!

#fanfic #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #ballroom dancing #ballroom #vampire au #witch hunter

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mrtwizz · 2 years

Text

Snow On The Beach W.A. [Part Two]

Alternative Title: Poe Cup and Pilgrims?

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader slow burn series

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, teen angst

Word count: 3.9k

Summary: Wednesday seems to be filling up too much of Y/n's thoughts, and Wednesday does not enjoy the vampire infiltrating her thoughts.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Enid had suggested that Y/n come back to her dorm to hang out like they usually did. Claiming she feels abandoned because she hasn’t been getting the proper attention lately.

Y/n scoffed at Enid’s dramatics and walked with her to dinner.

The two gossiped and giggled as they ate, talking about who they thought was with who. Who was caught sneaking out of who’s dorm, the usual gossip.

After dinner they went up to Enid’s room that she shared with a certain gothic girl. The two listened to music and talked, until Enid got a text that Yoko and Diviana were in the infirmary. Both of the girls having gotten separate illnesses.

Enid started to hysterically sob, and dramatically threw herself on the edge of her bed. Y/n carefully placed herself on the ground next to Enid.

“Hey, Enid it will be okay. I can help, and I bet with persuasion Wednesday will too.” Y/n tried to comfort her.

“Where is Wednesday?” Enid cried.

“I’m not sure…” Y/n trailed off, neither had seen the gothy teen since she left the beekeeping shed. Y/n hoped that Wednesday hadn’t run into the monster that had torn Rowan into shreds.

After a few minutes of Enid’s uncontrollable sobs, Wednesday Addams climbs through their window.

“Where the hell have you been?” Enid shrieks as she jumps up from her kneeling position next to her bed, “I’m literally having a heart attack right now! Yoko and Dividina are in the infirmary.”

“What happened?” Wednesday asks, eyes glancing at the vampire on the ground.

“Garlic bread incident at dinner.” Enid growled, “She had a major reaction, which means she’s out of the Poe Cup. And I don’t have enough members.”

“It wasn’t an accident, Bianca is behind it.” Wednesday states.

“How do you know?” Y/n asks from the floor.

“Doesn’t matter.” Wednesday responds, “We are going to take her down tomorrow.”

“Wait, you’re joining the Black Cats?” Enid’s voice softens, and she steps closer to Wednesday “You’re willing to do that?”

The girl in all black steps back as soon as Enid steps forwards.

“I want to humiliate Bianca so badly, that the bitter taste of defeat burns in her throat.” Wednesday says with a hint of malicious intent in her voice.

“Yeah, but you’re mostly doing it because we’re friends. Right?” Enid asks, causing Wednesday to quickly turn around and face the window.

“Tell me how she keeps winning.” Wednesday demands.

“It’s a real brain cramp.” Enid responds, “The past two years no other boat had made it across and back without sinking.”

“Sounds like sabotage.” Wednesday comments.

“Oh it is, there’s no rules to the Poe Cup. And it’s in water, that’s like Bianca’s domain.” Y/n says.

Wednesday looks to where Y/n sits, “Then we just need to beat her at her own game.”

The next day the three of them start setting up how to beat Bianca, Wednesday and Y/n walk past the siren on their way to Enid. Y/n gave Bianca a smile with a little wave, while Wednesday glared.

“We’re all set.” Enid tells the two.

“Good, Things in position.” Wednesday says.

“Wanna tell me what you three were up to all night?” Enid asks.

“And spoil the surprise?” Wednesday responds, in what should be a teasing tone.

“Speaking of surprises, your costume is in the tent!” Enid giggles.

Wednesday looks at Enid, horrified, “Costume?”

Y/n and Enid both laugh, knowing Wednesday would have immediately shut everything down before it started if she knew she had to wear the cat suit.

Enid and Y/n get one after another and then do each other's cat makeup.

Y/n can feel the felt tip of Enid’s eyeliner against her cheeks as she draws on the finishing touches.

“All done!” Enid says, booping Y/n’s nose as she does so, causing the two of them to giggle.

“OMG you look purr-fect!” Enid says when Wednesday leaves the tent, “Only thing, where are your whiskers?”

“Ask again and you’ll be down to eight lives.” Wednesday threatens.

Y/n grabs her phone from her bag to take a picture of the three of them. Enid’s bright and happy face, Y/n’s plastered with a smile, and Wednesday with her signature deadpan face. Only if Y/n looked hard enough she could see the faintest smile on the goth girl's face.

The three of them make their way down to the lake where the rest of their team is, they all get into their canoe. Y/n can see Enid look and wave at Ajax.

Apparently Wednesday sees it too, “Focus.”

Y/n can’t help but let out a small laugh at Wednesday’s bossy behavior.

“What do we have here?” Bianca said from her canoe, causing the three to look over, “The runt of the litter.”

“For the record, I don’t believe I’m better than everyone else. Just that I’m better than you.” Wednesday states.

Weems' voice comes over the speakers, “I would like to welcome you all to the Edgar Allen Poe Cup. This is one of Nevermore’s proudest annual traditions, dating back to a hundred twenty-five years. Each team must row across to Raven Island, pull a flag from Crackstones Crypt, and hustle back without sinking or being sunk.”

“The first team to cross the finish line with their flag wins the cup and bragging rights for the year.” Weems explains, “As well as some special privileges. Let the Pope Cup Begin!” She shoots a gun into the air.

They quickly made their way across the river to the island, and everyone got out of the canoe to tie it up.

“Stay here and make sure Bianca can’t sabotage the boat.” Wednesday instructs before her and Y/n take off to find their flag.

The pair quickly make their way to Crackstones Crypt, they run past Xavier and his teammate, both of whom were dressed as jokers.

“Later Wednesday!” Xavier shouted.

If the time had called for it Y/n would have rolled her eyes at Xaviers intense pining.

Crackstones Crypt was a large stone tomb with two statues on either side of it and read “Joseph Crackstone” above the entrance. When Wednesday approached the tomb to grab the flag she braced her body against the wall of the crypt. Her head snapped back and her body fell.

Y/n quickly caught her falling body before she could hit the hard ground under them.

“Wednesday?” Y/n was panicked, she didn’t know what was happening.

Her first assumption was a seizure, only Wednesday’s cold body didn’t shake. So she just sat there for a few moments, keeping two of her fingers on the base of Wednesday’s throat to make sure she was still alive.

Bianca passed the pair, grabbing her team's flag as Wednesday came back to, “Taking a catnap?”

“What the hell happened?” Y/n asked, the two of them jumping to their feet.

“Nothing.” Wednesday replied, holding the flag as they ran.

They quickly made it back to the boat and got in, and began rowing back.

“See ya jokesters!” Enid laughs as they row past their sinking boat, “I just asked myself WWWD, What Would Wednesday Do?”

As they neared Bianca’s canoe Wednesday pushed a lever that opened panels on the side to reveal spikes. Their canoes got closer together before a force under the water began pushing the Black Cat canoe away from the Gold Bugs and towards a red pillar.

The team tried to row against the force pushing them, but it was little to no use. Until Thing dove into the water, Y/n wanted to question the legistics about it but decided that the explanation of “Addams family” was a just enough one.

Their team began to catch back up with the other boat, finally slicing into the bottom of it as they passed by.

“Gotcha.” Y/n said with a smirk, as they passed the final boat and made it to the dock, winning the Poe Cup.

The crowd dressed in mostly black and purple pinstripe cheered as they did so. Enid, Y/n, and Wednesday got out of the boat first with the flag and ran to the finish line. Both Enid and Y/n with wide grins on their faces and Wednesday with a small one.

Y/n and Enid put an arm around each of Wednesday’s shoulders and began jumping up and down with excitement. Y/n moved and hugged Eugene who was also jumping with excitement for his friends/fellow hummers.

“OMG Wednesday we did it,” Enid said, moving to grab and shake Wednesday by the shoulders, “This is the greatest moment of my entire life.”

“Admit it, you kind of got into the school spirit thing.” Y/n said, now jumping around in circles with Eugene.

“You guys didn’t say it’s a dark, vengeful spirit.” Wednesday spoke in a lighter tone than usual, her own excitement evident. The look in her eyes and the smirk she wore turned Y/n’s bones to jelly.

Y/n knew her crush on the Addams girl was a bit over the top and the way her stomach twisted and erupted with butterflies was enough to make her face burn in embarrassment. But the laughter and cheers hide the way her body was lit on fire.

They got changed into their normal uniform, save for Y/n who always altered and hemmed hers to make it shorter and make her feel better about having to wear in her opinion the ‘ugliest uniform known to man’.

They stood in front of the entirety of Nevermore’s student body and staff in the quad, “The Poe Cup first took place in 1897, as a way to not only honor Nevermore’s most famous alumni, but to celebrate those values that all outcasts share.” Weems announced.

Enid and Y/n shared a smile as they stood next to each other, both still buzzing with excitement.

“Community, perseverance, and determination. And we certainly saw those values on display today.” Weems continued as she handed the cup to Enid who squealed with delight.

Enid held up the trophy and let out a triumphant, “Whoo!” as people cheered.

“Congratulations Ophelia Hall!” Weems said.

Y/n was cheering with the team when she caught a glimpse of Wednesday walking off. Y/n assumed that the attention was too much for her. Y/n paused for a minute before deciding to go after her.

Wednesday sat on the ledge that held a statue of Edgar Allen, she was looking up when Y/n entered the secluded area.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“Hiding.” Wednesday responded, getting to her feet, “People keep randomly smiling at me, it’s unsettling.”

Y/n laughed, walking with Wednesday, “It’s called having your shining moment, you beat Bianca Barclay. Nobody’s ever done that, enjoy it.” Y/n pauses, looking at the table of giggling girls,“The other girls wanted to know if you wanted to hang out later?”

Wednesday gave Y/n a look, “Oh come on, get out of your comfort zone. It won’t kill you.”

“I’ll think about it.” The gothy teen replies, taking Y/n by surprise.

Y/n smiled and made her way over to the table as she saw Weems approaching Wednesday. Enid gave the smiling girl a look.

“Don’t even.” Y/n threatened the bubbly blonde, she sighed at her own emotions.

Later that night Y/n lie awake in her dorm that she shared with a fuming Bianca, she must have assumed Y/n were asleep when she left with that purple robe. Y/n knew where she was going and didn’t care enough to join. She simply laid in her bed, facing the wall. Drowning in her own thoughts.

Y/n realized at about 12:32 in the morning that when Wednesday had fallen at Crackstone’s Crypt, it was another vision. Y/n wasn’t sure what Wednesday had been seeing in her visions but she assumed that they weren’t good. Y/n laughed to herself, lately most of her thoughts were taken up by a certain girl who only sometimes wanted anything to do with her.

She wondered when this crush phase would die down, or better yet be over? Deep in the back of her mind she knew it wasn’t a phase and that these feelings would consume her whole, but in the moment she wanted to pretend otherwise. Slowly Y/n drifted off to sleep. `

When Wednesday had entered the Nightshade’s secret library she looked at the pictures on the walls, scoffing at her mothers smirk. One peculiar painting stuck out to her, one of a girl who looked almost identical to Y/n. Wednesday made a mental note to ask Y/n about what she knew about the Nightshades at a later time. The gothy teen’s thoughts strayed to Y/n for a moment longer than she would have appreciated.

Wednesday Addams did not understand the emotions and feelings that Y/n made her feel, and wanted to resent Y/n for it. Only something in her pulled Wednesday in closer and closer. As if threatening to strangle her. Wednesday lets her mind wander to Y/n for a moment too long when her world suddenly erupts into darkness, luckily she was not afraid of the dark.

The next morning Y/n got dressed and left before Bianca had woken up, it was Outreach day meaning they had to do volunteer work. How can it be called volunteer work when it's required? It’s something Y/n had yet to understand, and probably never would.

Y/n stood with Eugene as Weems explained what they would be doing that day, “As you know Outreach day culminates in a very special event, the dedication to a new memorial statue in the town square. Which will also include performances by Nevermore students.

Eugene and others began buzzing with excitement,

Ms Thornhill hands Eugene and Y/n their assignments.

“Whatcha get?” Eugene asks.

“Pilgrim World.” Y/n responds.

“Me too!” The boy exclaimed excitedly.

Eugene, Y/n, and Enid were making their way to Pilgrim World when Wednesday stopped Enid. Her and Y/n’s arms were linked, causing Y/n to stop as well.

“Switch volunteer assignments with me.” Wednesday almost asked, but mostly demanded, sticking out the blue envelope to the blonde.

“What? No.” Enid grimaced, “Uriah’s Heap is definitely not my bag.”

“It’s an emergency, I need to check out Pilgrim World.” Wednesday said, looking past Enid and Y/n for a split second. “But Wednesday, this is not a fair trade. Why would I agree to spend the entire day at some dumpy emporium of crapola?” Enid asks.

Wednesday sticks out the colorful envelope once more as if this were strategically planned. Y/n wouldn't be surprised if Wednesday had formulated an entire plan to get Enid to switch assignments with her.

“Because Ajax is going to be volunteering there.” Wednesday responds, and Enid’s body language changes, “Thing sneaked a peak at his assignment. But if you’re not interested-” Wednesday turns slightly from the two as she says it.

“No!” Enid grabs the slip from Wednesday’s hand, “Oh my God, thank you. You’re the best.” Enid gently shakes Wednesday's arms, before running off with a giggle.

“What do you need from Pilgrim World?” Y/n inquires once it’s just the two of them.

“According to Xavier,” Y/n rolls her eyes at the mention of the artistic boy, “Crackstone’s journal is in there.”

The two walk in silence the rest of the way to the little ‘village’ that is Pilgrim World.

There was an old man, an actor, yelling to people, “Witch trials everyday!”

“Damn wish someone would hang me.” Y/n murmured to herself, not intending on anyone else hearing, and even if anyone else (Wednesday) did they didn’t say anything.

Y/n immediately spots Eugene as they walk in, “Y/n where did you go? Where’s Enid?” “Enid and Wednesday switched assignments.” Y/n responded.

“Oh, wanna take a Hummers group photo?” Eugene’s happy tone was impossible for anyone to say no to.

Well almost anyone, only she didn’t have time to say anything before Y/n was agreeing. Eugene took a selfie of the three of them, him smiling happily, Y/n smiling for the picture, and Wednesday looking stoic as always. Y/n was suddenly happy for her choice of eyewear, the oversized sunglasses veiled the way her smile hadn’t truly reached her eyes.

“Good morrow, my young Nevermore kin. I am Misteress Arlene. A real OC.” Another actor, presumably in charge of the Nevermore ‘volunteers’, introduced herself.

Eugene smiled at the attempt at a joke Arlene made, and Y/n realized she would do just about anything for the kid standing next to her. She adored him as if he were her brother, something that she had lost long ago. Way back when she was still human, but there was no time to dwell on emotions from the past. She had required volunteer work to do.

“Now privy, put your cell phones on vibrate and make haste. For you are about to travel back in time to the year of our lord 1625.” The pilgrim lady instructs as she begins her tale and turns around.

“I was still alive back then.” Y/n whispers to Eugene, who looks at her bewildered.

“Really?” Eugene asks, believing every word she says.

“No.” Y/n responds with a smile, before walking with the group.

Arlene the pilgrim lady shows off the ‘settlement’ and explains bits of it as she does so. Y/n checks out, not caring what she had to say, or anything around her. She hadn’t even noticed Wednesday move up to right behind her shoulder, something on a normal day she would have noticed without question. Maybe she could blame the gloomy weather for the way she had been feeling, or maybe it had been her own mind. Either way, she was feeling down and couldn't help but give into the feelings.

Suddenly she checks back into reality when Wednesday moves from her shoulder to in front of her.

“I haveth a query.” Wednesday spoke, going along with the 1600’s act the park had going for it.

“Pray be quick child.” The ginger woman responded.

In the meeting house, which of Joseph Crackstone’s artifacts are on display?” Wednesday asked, and Y/n wondered where her sudden curiosity of Crackstone had stemmed from.

She assumed it had something to do with the vision she had at Crackstone’s Crypt, or maybe it had to do with Rowan’s death and sudden ‘revival'?

“It truly is a treasure trove, including original farm tools, tableware, even the Crackstone chamber pot.” Arlene explained.

“Sounds faciating, I volunteer to work in there.” Wednesday said.

“Pray, no. That exhibit is being renovated.” The pilgrim lady took her role as a pilgrim a little too seriously, and Y/n wondered if she ever caught herself speaking like this in front of normal people. “Today thou will all be working at the beating heart of Pilgrim World.”

“Ye olde fudgery?” Eugene sounded excited.

Next to him Wednesday had a homicidal look on her face, “More like ye olde diabetes in a box.”

“Volunteers, prick up thine ears.” The lady rhymed, “Fudge is the lifeblood of our humble community. And samples equal sales, so grab a uniform and a box and make our forefathers proud.”

Wednesday picked up a part of the uniform, “Is this for muzzling tourists?”

Y/n glanced over to where Eugene ate yet another piece of the fudge, cringing at the idea of consuming that much chocolate. Y/n turned for a moment before looking back to see a boy grab Eugene, but before she could do anything she watched as he threw up on the boys. She had to turn around at the sight of the vomit. Y/n however did make her way to the boys, in an inhumanly fast manner, once they tried to put Eugene in the stocks.

Y/n put her hand on the top part of the stocks, to prevent it from closing on Eugene, “Let him go.”

“You wanna end up in the stocks too?” One of the boys taunted.

“Do you really want to get your ass handed to you,” Y/n feigned a sweet voice, “by a girl?”

The boy grabbed Eugene and shoved him from the stocks and tried to grab Y/n, who was easily able to dodge his hand, instead moving to trip him. He growled as he got up and tried to hit her once more, but she grabbed his hand, twisting it to a painful angle and shoved him into the wooden frame.

“What are you two standing here for?” Y/n asked, turning to the other boys.

“I can’t get into more trouble with my dad.” The taller of the two spoke, before they both walked off.

“Wait, Lucas!” The imprisoned boy called out.

Y/n gave Eugene an almost pitiful look, only he couldn’t see it through her glasses, “Let's get you cleaned up.”

Y/n was reminded of when she was alive and she took care of her younger brother. Back when both of them were alive, but now neither would know the way their skin would wrinkle. Neither knew the feeling of growing up and getting old, only Y/n got to continue her life in this realm while her brother did not.

Eugene sat on a hay bail while Y/n kneeled in front of him to wipe his face, gently holding it as she did so. Letting her mind wander back all those years ago when she had done this to her dear younger brother William. The way he would squirm away from her grasp, and the two would laugh.

“You okay there, Y/n?” Eugene asked, concern for the girl lacing his voice.

“Yeah, uh my eyes just got really dry.” Y/n replied, using the back of her hand to wipe her face, consequently smearing the makeup she had put on earlier that morning.

Wednesday appeared out of seemingly thin air behind Y/n, “What happened?”

Y/n jumped and clutched at her chest, as if her heart could stop once more from the fright, “Jesus! How the hell do you manage to sneak up on me?”

Eugene explained the way Y/n ‘saved his ass’, “I don’t really have anyone other than Y/n, if you can believe it.”

“You said it yourself, Hummers stick together.” Wednesday says, a warm tone of what Y/n could only describe as fondness.

“You're Like my brother Eugene.” Y/n never opened up about her time alive, so her saying this surprised both parties, “Back before…everything he was the kindest little boy. I think that if he would’ve made it into adolescence he would have been a lot like you Eugene, and I have a feeling I would have had to pick some fights for him.”

Wednesday didn’t know just how alike her and the girl were.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams brain rot #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednesday x reader #snow on the beach part 2 #snow on the beach #mine #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams x fem reader

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