#Morticia the Muscle

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

One of our goth chickens, Morticia sister of Wednesday, has decided she and I are homies. If I sit out in the yard, she will come round the back of my chair to my right side. Then she tugs my belt loop to get my attention before turning round and hunkering down for pets or squawking to let me know she wants to be misted like a fern.* The best part is that I say each chickens' name differently and they all react to it.

Morticia: I say 'tisha' in the same tone & cadence as Bill Hader used to say his own character name when doing the Stefan bit on SNL.

Monarch: I just respectfully say 'And good morning to you, Monarch. Decide to be less of a dick today? Ah I see the answer is no.'

Dr. Girlfriend: quiet but slightly higher pitched

Violet: bubbly 'Hi Vi!'

Now Wednesday's is hilarious. She went broody for a bit and in the texas summer that's just not safe (we lost Shadow Fluffy Butt to that exact thing yesterday). So I would have to go out multiple times a day to force Wednesday out of the nesting area. I would open the gate and say 'Ladies ladies ladies' like Jay from Jay & Silent Bob. Then I'd open up the nesting box, talk to her & pet her, then scoop her out & set her angry ass by the food and water. It was necessary. HOWEVER now if I say 'ladies ladies ladies' Wednesday's head immediately pops up and she RUNS to come scream at me indignantly.

* It's been over 100° f here for nearly 2 weeks and counting, so the chickens have full yard privileges (rather than just the chicken yard) with 5 water buckets set up throughout in shady spots beside big ass flower pots that became dust baths and I go out with a plant mister to mist them with cool water every so often.

Yes I did mention that we lost a lady. Shadow Fluffy Butt was admittedly our most fluffy and densely feathered girl. We had been keeping a close eye on her but she got very broody very suddenly. I went and pulled her from the nest and when The Man went out not an hour later, she was gone.

[i-yap]

I absolute love how you write Jason and your takes on him like yes!! Giving Gomez and Morticia!!! Very much a man written by a woman!!! ANYWAY, I very much agree that he’d likely be with a civilian reader! So what do you think would be the little routines they’d fall into? Like grocery shopping and working out and date nights, like just the little details and minutiae of life that seems totally normal to her but means a whole lot more to him

I love love domestic jason, i love writing him , like he is so perfect i-

Domestic jason x reader

No one else does the chores around your house, unless you want to hire cleaning service, he doesn't.

He likes the simplicity, the domesticity and warmth and closeness and normalness of just being home, cleaning together, one washes the dishes and one dries. One cooks and the other presses shirts on the kitchen counter. making out on top of washing machines or making putting you bed together an impossible task from how he keeps dragging you in for cuddles (or more wink wink)

Man is starved. Like do something as simple as giving him a tissue just as he is about to sneeze, he will die on the spot. like wdym my lovely y/n was noticing me and observed that I was twitching and raising my arms about to sneeze...she knows I exist??

Rather than going "out out", jason loves really simple dates. Bike ride to a bookstore in a different town just because they have the hardcopy with the pretty art version of a book. Or drinking hot chocolate in a crowded cafe but you two are huddled in the corner. Or staying home and cuddling *(and more wink wink)

Also jason has really cold hands so when you just "oof jason why are you hands so cold jesus you should wear gloves no" and pull his hand into your coat pocket or if your at home just tuck it between your thighs even though you yourself are feeling cold.....man is now dead please bring flowers to his grave. Dw the rest of his body runs really hot.

REPEAT WITH ME, IF HE COULD SIT IN A BATHTUB WITH YOU AND WARM WATER FOREVER- HE WOULD KILL EVERY HUMAN AND ANIMAL AND MICROORGANISM ALIVE TO DO IT.

he just really loves baths, its the intimacy , the quiet , the lesseing of the ache in his muscles, you between his arms playing with his fingers or him in your arms with you washin his hair.

With the amount of time you guys spend with each other, you start following a pattern. so when someone sees you do chores together, or something normal together- they are a bit weirded out.

Like you're at a batfam dinner and jason sets your plate and justs takes out peas(or any other vegetable you hate) and puts it on his plate while you simultaneously take out the mushrooms from his plate. Or if someone asks you something and jason is able to answer in full detail ( if you're drunk-sleepy-tired busy cuz he would never interrupt you)

At this rate everyone believes you just have telepathy cuz you guys never even say a word in public but somehow understand each other. what witchery is this?

He just wants to combine your soul with his because even the thought of you brings him peace and man just loves you so much. please give him the love he never got otherwise .

[gatorbites-imagines]

If you're interested I'd like to request some ftm Mihawk X service top Male reader, like goddam I really wanna worship this man and eat him out/mark him 😭

Ftm Dracule Mihawk x male reader

Headcanons

I love Mihawk, hes one of the few one piece characters I can look at and think “he definitely smells good”. I was listening to dark academia when writing this, since I felt it fit Mihawk.

Mixed terminology for Mihawks bits, like usual.

Mihawk carries a lot of stress in his day-to-day life, I mean, how couldn’t be. He doesn’t show it, at least not to those who don’t know him. But as his partner, you can spot it immediately when he’s more tense than usual.

There is nothing you love more than to make Mihawk feel good, which results in many people thinking you are some kind of lovesick fool. (for some reason I imagine Gomez and Morticia Addams in this dynamic)

Many thing Mihawk is cold, aloof and emotionless, that he doesn’t return your strong emotional acts, but you know he has his own ways to show his love. Like the way he lets you take care of him and puts down his defenses around you, in the way he caresses your cheek in the morning, or how he brings you small trinkets from his travels.

You cant help but yearn to make Mihawk feel as good as you possibly can, especially on days where he clearly needs to let off some steam.

It starts with a bath of the highest quality, with Mihawks favorite scents and soaps, where you’ll even go as far as wash his hair and beard for him, massaging at his tense shoulders and arms.

Massages has become one of the easiest ways to make Mihawk unwind, as he only lets you do it, so his body immediately knows its safe and that he doesn’t need to be on guard when you massage him.

He does grumble and give you a half-hearted glare when you start nipping and sucking hickeys on his neck and arms, calling you a possessive bastard, especially when you keep leaving hickeys where everyone can see as he goes around shirtless.

In the earlier period of your relationship, he would never allow it, but nowadays he lets you pick him up out of the bathtub, dry him off, even lets you rub his favorite lotion into his skin.

If you end up sliding to your knees between his thighs when he’s sitting on the counter, who but you two would know. Mihawk has never been much of a moaner or for making noise in general, but you can always see that your loving and caring touches lights a fire in him, as he’s always wet on your fingers when you rub them through his folds.

He leans back against the mirror as you lick and suck at his cock and folds, experience guiding you in the best ways to make his thighs quiver and breath stutter.

Only after hes cum will you pull back, wiping your mouth and picking your swordsman back up, moving him into the bedroom and laying him down on the silky sheets that cover the huge bed you guys share.

As much as Mihawk wants to keep going from where you left off in the bathroom, you just spread him out and go off to grab the massage oil, rolling him onto his front so you can start actually working into his back.

Mihawk always feels your erection pressing against the small of his back as you knead at his tight muscles, something inside him feeling hot and gooey at the knowledge that you are so aroused, but you always want to take care of him more.

You take the chance to leave more bites and hickeys as you work down his back and to his legs, spreading his thighs apart so you can rub at them too. Of course, you take the chance to lift his hips a bit and lick through his folds again, causing Mihawk to gasp into the sheets.

The fact that you are the only person to see Mihawk Dracule like this, splayed out across the sheets and so relaxed, muscles lax and hips rolling lazily back against your tongue, almost has you bursting right then and there.

As you keep eating him out, you rub down as much of his legs as you can, pulling away from his cunt with a string of fluids connecting your tongue and his heat so you can scoot down and rub down his feet too, much to Mihawks annoyance.

Rolling him onto his back, you do the same to his front, making sure to kiss at his top surgery scars and leave bites down his stomach, before sucking his cock between your legs as you hike on of his legs over your shoulder.

Mihawk is a vision as he basks in pleasure, arms tucked under his head and eyes half lidded as they look down at you. He looks soft and pliable, but somehow still so powerful, even as he lets you pretty much worship him with your hands and mouth.

Its only after he mumbles for you to get on with it that you slide fingers into him, crooking them just the way he likes as you roll his cock in lazy circles with your tongue, the flat side of your tongue rubbing the bundle of nerves enough to send a tingling feeling up his spin.

As you open him up, you make sure to mumble compliments, about how strong he is, how much you love him and his body, how much you think about him and crave him whenever he is away.

All this praise and touching culminates in a second orgasm, starting slowly in his stomach and warming over time, as you of so lazily draw it out of him, your movements and actions having no rush even as he gasps, thighs clamping down on either side of your head.

As he calms down from the orgasm, you move away from his crotch to press kisses against his lower stomach instead, rubbing a loving hand up and down his thigh so as to not overstimulate him.

At some point Mihawk grabs onto your hair and pulls at it, pulling you up on top of him instead, hooking his legs around your hips as he stares at you intensely. Theres no need for words to express what he wants, especially as his pupils are bigger than normal, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.

Your pants and boxers are easily kicked off to the floor, and after slipping on a condom, you carefully push inside his slit, all the prep and work to make him relax easing the way, making it easy for you to bottom out.

What you two experience is more like the act of making love, compared to fucking. Hips rolling in slow loose thrusts, lips pressing together in an open-mouthed kiss as you breathe one another in as hands explore and grab at whatever flesh they can find.

There is no hurry, like there has been no hurry the entire night, its all about making Mihawk feel good in your eyes, your own need for orgasm completely leaving your mind, or maybe having never even been present in the first place.

The third orgasm Mihawk experiences has his eyes clenching shut, mouth dropping open into a beautiful O shape, as soundless moans tremble out of him, cunt gripping tighter onto your shaft as he shudders through it.

His toes curl and fingers dig into your back, Mihawk almost forgetting to breathe until you remind him, making him gasp. You almost want to pull out, since your own end means nothing, but Mihawks legs stay locked around your hips, rocking you in and out of him.

Your orgasm leaves your vision going black for a second or two, the feeling washing through you like a wave as you grunt and cling closer to your lover, filling the latex wrapped around your shaft with a moan, mixed with yet another mumble of praise for the man you love.

You two stay pressed up against each other for a while, just basking in the others presence, until it starts to get uncomfortable.

Pulling out, you discard of the soiled condom, and go about cleaning up, getting new sheets on the bed, and wiping your lover down as he lays lax and half asleep, though Mihawk is never fully asleep until you crawl back into bed with him.

Its only times like this that he gets to completely relax, falling asleep against your side as you caress his hair and rub his back. Its some of the best sleep Mihawk ever gets, knowing that you are there to love him and care for him. The multiple orgasms also help with putting him to sleep.

Its only after Mihawk is completely asleep that you close your eyes. You never go fully to sleep, keeping some of your consciousness alert, just in case you’ll end up needing it. Its mainly to allow Mihawk to get the deep sleep he needs, without having to worry about keeping his guards up himself. And you’ll do anything for your partner.

[yawnderu]

https://x.com/femininaura/status/1745091462427980238?s=46

ghost with bimbo!reader. just so intimate with you always. youre at a friends birthday party ir smth and simon disappeared some minutes ago only to reappear with a new glass of champagne for you and even more love in his eyes (if thats possible).

ghosty is for sure a guy that needs to be in close proximity to you or have some part of him touching some part of you anywhere you go together

THAT'S HIM!! He's not huge in PDA until later on, getting used to you kissing his cheek, holding his hand, and sometimes even kissing his knuckles, looking at him with pure love in your eyes.

His love with her reminds me a lot of Morticia and Gomez!! Just pure, undying devotion and love to each other no matter what. Even when she's all dressed in pink skimpy clothes, she's HIS Morticia😭😭

You're so right!! Simon always needs to have some part of him touching you no matter where you are. His favorites so far are having your pinky interlinked with yours, one hand on your thigh, and your legs touching. It's pure muscle memory at this point to touch any part of you, and he finds a lot of comfort in feeling you close to him :')

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[sunflowerdigs]

If they've already shot a date in a location, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't scout it all over again to shoot the same thing, they'd just call and book it. It's the Halloween episode, so there's probably some kind of creepy emergency happening at the restaurant. Maybe a haunting? There's a reason they shot the picture in b&w and tried to make it look all spooky.

Anyway, here's hoping single pringles Buck and Eddie decide to flex their matching costume muscles again for Halloween. Even if Christopher is back, there's a good chance he won't want to dress up with Eddie because he's 'too old for that dad!" So, Buck may need to swing in and comfort/distract Eddie with some Halloween fun. Gomez and Morticia? Sherlock and Watson? Cagney and Lacey? Jedediah and Octavius? Luke and Han? The possibilities are endless...

[fogfables]

Brook x Reader headcanons

NSFW (no minors allowed!)

Stuff: invisible parts, switching positions, fluff 💜

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ:

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Crewmate POV: When you first met him, you were too surprised at his ability to walk and talk as a skeleton to interact with him normally. After some time teaming up together, you noticed a strange appreciation beginning to form in you.

You and Brook bonded over classical music and also 70's oldies. You asked him to play a couple tunes that he knows and that impressed him right off the bat and made him happy!

Sometimes you'd sing along, and even though you didn't like your own voice, he was just happy that you were singing with him.

Your first kiss with Brook was after sharing a private cup of tea together and eagerly listening to more of his backstory in candlelight. You sat hip to hip with him and he smelled like whiskey and coffee scented fragrance. He looked into your eyes with those silly dark holes you oddly found adorable and leaned in and you felt the touch of invisible lips.

You kissed him back passionately and felt a warm and slick invisible tongue gently wrestling your own. This surprised you, but after a pause you just went in for more.

His moans are beautiful to the ear, and they make you want to top him.

*****He has no muscles, so how does he walk, talk, and otherwise move? *I imagine it's the same as a ghost forming and disappearing.. that's how his non-existent parts come and go lol. *****

You're the only crewmate who knows for sure what his kisses feel like... and the heat of his literal boner.

When he's excited for you he's shy and usually tries to hide it or "get over it," but he cannot contain his blushing and everyone notices it.

When you finally pull his lanky form to somewhere private, you start by passionately kissing him and his warm ghostly lips come back.

He likes it when you gently press him against the wall or his bed. Sometimes you hold his wrists down and he's a blushing mess.

Sometimes you tease him by grinding your hips on him until his pants start to push up against you. He begins to whimper quietly as you lovingly pleasure the bulge.

Brook is almost too long for you to throat. Once you're down on him, he takes the liberty of guiding your pace with his hand on your head, like he's directing the timing of a song.

He will also put his hands on your hips as you straddle him, and guide your rhythm from there.

When he wants you, (which is surprisingly often) he will act extra gentlemanly. He carries you bridal style and kisses you up and down like you're both Gomez and Morticia Addams. He doesn't mind the rest of the crew seeing his affections.

Brook will often pleasure you with his skilled ghost tongue~ humming and laughing quietly as you hold in your moans. You grab a fistful of his hair when you're about to scream and sometimes he doesn't care and the whole ship hears.

When you're in Chopper's care after being hurt in combat, he always rushes to see you and keep your spirits up. He hums a sweet melody, resting his head on you so you feel his soft curls on your cheek. He will sit next to you for hours, telling stories, listening to you, and sipping tea.

At night you sneak into his bunk and you and Brook take turns nightly on who is the big spoon. He appreciates your warm body, and misses you dearly when you want to sleep alone.

He is very respectful when you need space and is very good at letting you vent.

That said, he is technically a lot older than you.. so he tends to give you advice on your personal hardships. One of his only faults is talking like a guardian more than a lover at times when you get moody. He will typically side with you when you argue with someone else, but he will gently pull you aside later to explain why he may disagree and what you need to work on yourself.

You and him tend to get into shenanigans: randomly dancing and singing. Whether or not you're afraid of ghosts, you try your best to comfort him :')

He is an amazing lover with an old soul. He writes you poems and songs, he gives you flowers on all special occasions, and dances with you too! He even plays board games and fills out crossword puzzles with you.

Of course he steals your panties! (Unless you give them to him) 😂 Now that the two of you are so close, he doesn't dote on anyone but you, and you enjoy it very much <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

[madwomansapologist]

Hi hi!! Is it okay if I request some sfw and nsfw head-canons on Morticia and Gomez with sugar baby!reader?

being Morticia and Gomez Addams sugar baby would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Gomez and Morticia Addams | AO3

synopsis: A rich and gothic couple: what a dream.

warnings: sugar baby stuff (also, I am trying to include more kinks because I am getting comfortable here, so if you guys like it feel free to comment or to make requests with more specific kinks :))

ps: thanks for your request my love! I hope you like it!

• Look at them. Do you really think they wouldn't like the thought of giving money to someone they love? Gomez is a billionaire (this is canon, I am talking about billions of dollars), so money is not a problem. Great news for you!

• They are willing to pamper you up. Their looks may make a lot of people think that they would be horrible partners, but this is not true. They want to make you happy, don’t matter how

• Morticia is more willing to give you things that envolve your interestings. Be ready to receive first editions of books of your favourite writers, trips to anywhere you show the least interest, make you meet anyone that you idolatre, show you whatever place that deserves your attention. She would spare no efforts to make you experience the best the world has to offer

• Gomez prefer to give you things more... palpable. Clothes from the most delicate fabrics imaginable, jewelry that other would need sunglasses to look directly at, makeup that is worth as much as gold, bags and more bags of everything you want to buy with his card. He would gift you with a suitcase of money if you asked

• They like to show you off. Part is because if they do so than everyone gonna know that you belong to them. But it is also because they want everyone to know how beautiful and smart you are. They want you to open you mouth and make the others realize how dumb they are

• If you ever fight, the apologies will be as big as possible. You gonna enter your home and gonna fin thousands of roses without their buds. Others may think that this is a threat, but thats just Morticia trying to be romantic while dealing with you allergic to pollen

• And it don’t mean that all they would do have something to do with money only. Gomez tried to fight with swords people that we’re mean to you or that tried to harm you. You are pretty sure that he did use some of his specials books to take away some people, but you don’t have a proof

NSFW 🧁

• Gomez love to see you test his gifts. Gomez would sit on his couch, with a glass of red wine on his hand, and let you analize the shopping bags. Without a word, Gomez would watch you test the new clothes on his body. He knows you measurements, but watches all the same.

• The only time he interferes is when you start fitting the jewelry to your body. Gomez finishes the glass, stand up and helps fasten all the clasps. He saves the necklace for last, this way he can smell your skin. His hands will pass through the fabric of your clothes, fingering your jewelry, squeezing your hair: you're in his hands, what could be better than that? 

• As I said, Morticia prefer to pay attention on experiences. When you both have dinner together, in a fancy restaurant closed just for you, the table is surrounded by only one chair. You sit on Morticia's lap, who makes it clear that you won't move a muscle tonight. How could she make you spend your energy when she can serve you? She will care of you, she always does

• After you eat everything you wish for, it is her time to eat. And she is hungry. Forever hungry.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @amournoir @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[bluravenite]

I would love to hear any little headcanons you have about the ghouls, perhaps thoughts about the different ghouls styles if that’s something you’ve thought about :)

I do have ideas for their style but it's something very abstract in my mind so I'mma try to explain it to the best of my abilities??

Dew: black band shirts ripped years and scrappy leather boots chains and jewelry.

Rain: flowy shirts, very frilly, fitted clothes, fitted pants and jeans, either flat sneakers or fancy boots, he often wears dresses too. And he has lots of simple pretty hats to keep the sun off his face.

Aether: dad. But fashionable? Lots of cardigans and vests, button up print short sleeve shirts, and cuffed slacks, with fancy mm but comfy flat shoes.

Mountain: he wears tank tops with layered solid color button up cotton short sleeves. Usually with some kind of cropped or cuffed pant or shorts. He also wears lots of open toed shoes, or flats sneakers on occasion. He can be a fancy boy though.

Phantom/aeon: he's low-key the dress up doll of everyone so he will wear frilly shirts or button ups, normal black tshirts, lose or fit pants, he cares more about looking nice in whatever he's wearing than what he is wearing, he also has nice shoes but prefers sneakers and likes being comfortable in his clothes.

Swiss: leather jackets, flannels, tank tops, tshirts that are too tight for his own good, muscle tanks, lose pants, sweatpants, nice shoes or sneakers depending on occasion. On hot summer days he wears open button up shirts with no undershirt, shorts and open toed sandals or something of the like.

Aurora: she's like the vampire goth girly, she will wear frilly blouses with big sleeves, puffy dresses and sheer fabrics and either Mary Jane's or demonia style boots. She's kinda like a Gothic academia and very mild pastel goth. If you ask her what her inspiration is, it would be Morticia Adams in her fashionable youth, before she became a fashionable milf ofc.

Cirrus: she's pretty laid back but likes to look nice, she will wear the fancy cocktail dresses and look so hot everyone wants to melt into the pits of hell. She wears fitted clothes and a sort of comfortable but polished style, you'll never see her in just one style of clothing though, she's kind of like a really well dressed hot millennial.

Cumulus: LOVES lives comfy stuff, anything that's like soft or cotton she loves wearing, so she will often have fluffy cute sweaters or pretty tops shiny tops she loves showing her skin but also being cozy so skirts, shorts and sweatpants or cute fitted pants are always the way, she also loves pretty flowy sundresses and cropped or flowy shirts. The ghoulettes spend HOURS helping her find just what she wants and making it fit perfectly just for her.

This is the main ghouls but!! Lmk if you want a part two with other ghouls like zeph, ifrit, alpha, cowbell, etc!!

[milfgyuu]

Wicked Delights [M] Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!Reader Tags: 1k, Addams Family!AU, Romance, Smut 18+ Prompt: “How did you convince them to do this?” → @shmooooo Summary: Creepy, kooky, mysterious, and spooky. *snap* *snap*

Warnings: Sexually Explicit Content 18+, MDNI, unprotected sex, oral (f), body worship, lots of pet names, restraint. This is a gomez x morticia au so there are spooky themes and dialogue throughout! mention of a knife, broken glass, blood for a “costume”, similar jokes made in the movies and yes - the children are indeed feral. 

Surely you’re accustomed to more…peculiarities than than most but your precious little heathens all dressed up and ready to hit the town is quite a sight. 

“And where are you two headed?”

Your son grins, the spiked baseball run through with nails and shrapnel bent at all different angles swinging loosely from his chubby hand. “We’re going trick or treating!”

Your brows raise. “Are you now? I thought you hated candy.”

“We’re not interested in candy,” your daughter answers. She’s slightly muffled behind her defiled hockey mask and your eyes twinkle with pride and intrigue at the dark red splatter across her clothing. “We’re going to terrorize the neighborhood.”

“Thrilling.”

Long fingers splay over your stomach as your husband reaches the bottom of the stairwell, grinning proudly at his prodigy. “Don’t you both look nefarious!”

“I’m an escaped convict!” your son puffs out his chest and you chuckle under your breath.

“What are the charges?” Your husband asks with barely contained glee.

Your son ticks them off one by one. “Multiple accounts of arson, assault, homicide, conspiracy, and,” he shrugs, “Tax fraud.”

Jeonghan laughs. “Excellent! And what about you, my fallen angel?”

Your daughter lifts her knife, “I’m a homicidal maniac,” she then glances at her brother through the mask and back up to you, “I haven’t been caught though.”

You wink at her. “Of course not.”

Your husband couldn’t be happier. “That’s my girl - insidious and intelligent as always,” he stubs his cigar out on the bannister and pockets the remainder, “Go on now children! Tear up the town - burn it to the ground! Have a blast!”

Your daughter peers up at her brother and lifts her mask to ask, “Did you bring the explosives?”

He nods in affirmation and they disappear out the manor doors just before they slam shut on a phantom breeze. 

Those fingers squeeze proprietarily and you smirk. 

“Darling,” you tilt your head to the side as Jeonghan kisses a long wet trail from your ear down to your shoulder, “How did you convince them to do this?”

“Beloved,” he purrs, tongue tracing your jaw, “Our children needn’t any convincing to unleash utter mayhem on the townsfolk but I might have told them they could resurrect a few mummies from the crypt if they kept away til morning.”

Finally meeting his gaze, he smirks, his handsome face lighting a fire low in your belly. 

“On All Hallows Eve?” you grin, “Delightful.”

Muscles stretched taut, bones like jelly, you keen under the pressure of such a wonderful, torturous position. Your hands shackled to the headboard, upholstered black velvet caressing your knuckles. It’s a small consolation for not being able to run your hands through Jeonghan’s silken hair but oh how he makes up for it in the way he feasts on you like a connoisseur. 

The dagger he’d used to cut away the cloth from your body lay discarded on the pillow next to you, glinting dangerously, beautifully. The ghostly feeling of it’s pointed tip pressing into your soft skin sending shivers up your spine. 

Oh, your husband, your lover…what a divine mind in that beautiful head of his. 

How you’d love to crack it open and study it’s innerworkings. 

How fascinating it is to lay beneath him and experience the way he alights all of your senses at once, finely tuned to your every move, your every breath.

“Magnificent,” he breathes against you when you sink back into the bed, dragging himself away slowly, lips pressing against your naked body along the way, “Radiant,” he purrs as he sheathes himself inside, grinning like a fiend as your mouth falls open. 

“There isn’t a woman alive or otherwise that could ever compare to you.” 

“I shall gloat over Drizelda’s grave for eternity, Darling.”

Jeonghan chuckles but it’s caught on a long moan as he pulls you closer - your arms burning, blinding white heat flashing behind your eyes. Your back and shoulders scream in protest and you scream aloud, the manor around you quaking with the force of it. 

“You’re absolutely bewitching, my dear,” he crows, brows furrowed impossibly tight, “Even the queen of the banshees couldn’t hold a candle to your cries when you scream for me. You’re going to make them jealous of that lovely voice of yours.”

You back arches high into the air, almost levitating, and Jeonghan suckles your chest as he nears. Your eyes squeeze shut, stomach like a roiling, raging storm on the ocean. Lightning strikes with incredible force, blue light illuminating your bodies.

When you come together, glass shatters near the bed. 

The window entirely blown out. 

Jeonghan sits back on his heels and spits a large, jagged, shard from his mouth and smirks down at you. “Shame, we just had that repaired.”

You hum, rubbing your body against the satin sheets and reveling in the way Jeonghan’s eyes track the movements. He flicks a thumb over your peaked nipple and croons, “A bit drafty though…isn’t it?”

Your eyes alight with mischief, “Shall we break another?”

“Oh, I plan to bring the whole house down before dawn.”

You arch into his touch with a grin, “You ghoul.”

“My temptress,” he answers, wicked tongue snaking out to seer against your skin. 

The children are spent when they return in the morning, leaving the ravaged town behind to find every window in the manor blown out. It’s seems a bit more crooked than when they’d left last night. The cursed gargoyle statues about the towering peaks have their hands cemented over their ears. The front door swinging off the hinges on one side. 

“What happened?” 

Your daughter extends her arm, cleaning her long dirtied butcher’s knife off on her sleeve. 

“Our parents had sex.”

Your son blinks a few times. The soot on his face irritating his nose.

“Ok,” he says and then turns to his sister with a conspiratorial grin, “Do you want breakfast before we go to the crypt?”

She only takes a moment to decide and begins striding toward the doors. 

Your son hurries to follow her as she calls out over her shoulder. “Resurrections are no good on an empty stomach. Breakfast first.”

This was so fun to write! Thanks for reading!

Halloween 2022 | SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

[eliseuocscreator]

Sasusaku genderbend Headcanons, L e t s' g o:

Sakura:

Short King(Same height as Canon)

He is extremely strong, but not so much with his wife

Tall girl short boy vibes(Morticia and Gomez Addams vibes too)

Will kick your ass If you say that he is not strong

He gets anxious when Sasuke sends him letters (he loves his wife very much)

Despite having raised Sarada alone, he waits patiently for his wife to return to the village

He's a very protective father (this goes for the genderbend version of my Oc Rairakku... so...)

He loves cooking, so much so that one of his hobbies is cooking and also working at the hospital.

When Rairakku(Fem), wanted to wear tomboy style clothes, he approved, as it reminded him of his wife when they were young

He was the one who cut his daughter's hair, as she was embarrassed to ask her father for it, he just supported and motivated her to do it.

Sasuke:

Tall and buff Wife(because YES)

Her muscles are extremely comfortable(According to Sarada & Sakura)

She is a protective mother of Sarada & Rairakku, after Momoshiki's attack

Loves bringing souvenirs of their missions for her children

Despite being far from the village, she carries a photo of her family with her to remember them.

She's an Amazon compared to Sakura and Sakura loves it

She doesn't like her daughter wearing skirts, as she remembers she didn't when she was young.

When she discovered that her son (Sarada) wanted to train, she supported him and saw potential in him, as she remembered her husband when he was young.

The scene with the cute peanut, would be even cuter (With Sarada)

The touch on the forehead would be a kiss on the forehead (While for Sakura it would be a peck XDD)

Well, I believe that's it :-)

[lord-of-the-muses]

Oh, that's my pet lion "Kitty Kat"

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x Female Reader x Enid Sinclair

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon when Enid, a bubbly and outgoing Nevermore student and the roommate of Wednesday Addams met Kitty Kat, the pet lion. Wednesday had arranged the meeting, expecting Enid to run off like everyone else did when they first laid eyes on the majestic beast. But Enid was not everyone else. She was fearless, and her love for animals was unparalleled.

As soon as Enid laid eyes on Kitty Kat, she knew she was in love. The lion was majestic and regal, with a thick mane of golden hair that cascaded down his back. Enid couldn't help but giggle with excitement as she approached him. She reached out her hand tentatively, expecting the lion to shy away, but instead, Kitty Kat nuzzled her gently with his nose.

With a wide smile on her face, Enid threw her arms around the lion's neck and hugged him tightly. She could feel the lion's muscles rippling beneath her touch as he purred contentedly. Enid couldn't believe her luck. She had always dreamed of having a pet lion, and now she had the chance to interact with one up close and personal.

As Enid petted the lion and whispered sweet nothings in his ear, Wednesday watched from a safe distance. She had been skeptical of Enid's ability to handle the lion, but she was quickly proven wrong. Enid's fearlessness and love for animals had won over the lion, and they were now the best of friends.

As Enid and Kitty Kat bonded, Y/N, who was both Enid's and Wednesday's lover, couldn't help but be drawn to Morticia's garden. The garden was full of beautiful and exotic plants, but Y/N's eyes were drawn to the Pitcher plant. The plant was a deep shade of purple, and its leaves were shaped like the mouth of a pitcher. Y/N was mesmerized by its beauty and couldn't help but want to know more about it.

Wednesday, noticing Y/N's interest in the Pitcher plant, explained that it was a carnivorous plant that trapped and digested insects. Y/N was fascinated by the plant's unique way of survival and couldn't help but fall in love with it.

As Enid and Kitty Kat played together, Y/N and Wednesday tended to Morticia's garden, planting new seeds and nurturing the existing plants. The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon together, enjoying the beauty of nature and the company of each other.

Enid, Wednesday, and Y/N all shared a love for the beauty and wonder of nature, and as they spent time together, they realized that they shared a special bond. They couldn't wait to spend many more Wednesdays together, exploring the world around them and discovering new things.

After all their hard work in Morticia's garden, Lurch brought out a tray of steaming hot chocolate for Enid, Wednesday, and Y/N. As they sipped the warm and rich drink, they all felt happy and content. The hot chocolate was unlike any they had ever tasted before, and they couldn't help but ask Wednesday how it was made.

Wednesday, with a smile on her face, happily explained the process. She told them that the secret ingredient was the blood of a rare beetle. The beetle's blood was crushed and mixed into the hot chocolate, giving it a unique and rich flavor.

Enid and Y/N's eyes widened in shock as they quickly finished off their hot chocolate. They couldn't believe that they had just consumed beetle blood. They had been so excited to try Morticia's special hot chocolate, but now they regretted finishing it so quickly.

Despite their initial shock, Enid and Y/N couldn't deny the delicious taste of the hot chocolate. They couldn't help but wonder what other secrets Morticia's garden held. They knew that they would have to come back soon to explore it more and discover its many wonders.

[u-look-beautiful-today]

I have strong opinions about Wednesday being beyond touch starved that I wrote a short story. There will probably be errors so I apologize in advance.

Edit: It's now up on ao3, with corrections. Title: down my arms, a thousand satellites

........

Wednesday has elected to reject all forms of touch. Holding hands, long hugs, gentle kisses, none of those basic human interactions. And it's not for any horrible, tragic incident that occurred in her adolescence. She doesn't get repulsed by it or flinch, her nervous system doesn't shut down and her fight or flight doesn't kick in.

No. She simply doesn't want to be like her parents.

Maybe that's a horrible reason. Morticia and Gomez are madly in love with one another. They are affectionate at all times, whether it be her father showering her mother in kisses or just a gentle touch. Their fingers intertwined as they sit at the table, mother caressing his face as she passes by, small moments.

My little storm cloud, love is the only wonderful and beautiful thing we Addams' desire. We feel it from the bottom of our feet all the way through our head, exploding out our brains! Ask your mother! She wasn't keen on anyone touching her either, just like you. But love? Makes you do uncomfortable things.

Her father is wrong. She and her mother aren't alike. Wednesday would never let anyone near her. She would never leave herself open to someone else. As much fun as heartbreak and sorrow is, she would never want to go through it with some random person. The thought of someone holding her heart in their hands is just pathetic. No one will ever be that close to her. To ever love her or touch her.

There it is again, touch.

She grimaces as old memories of her childhood rushes through her. She was a child that never wanted to be put down, always being held. Her father would carry her around the mansion at all times. Showering her in little forehead kisses, telling her she was a perfect little rain cloud. That she brought an extra dark essence to the home. Her mother would always read her bedtime stories, gently combing through her hair as she did so. Wednesday could never fall asleep if her mother didn't kiss her on the cheek. Even Pugsley would hold hands with her as they would steal stop signs. The simple act was enough to know her brother cared for her.

Touch is, sadly, Wednesday's true love language and it sickens her. So she's been rejecting it.

She doesn't know when it truly started. She was just tired of always being compared to her mother. She is her own person. Not a clone of someone else.

So, she started to shy away. Long hugs turned to a quick pat, telling mother to stop the bedtime routine, dodging under her father's kisses. She even would slap Pugsley's hand away.

Now, she can hardly remember the last time she was truly hugged. Perfect.

But, there is this gnawing inside her. A want, a need, that torments her and calls out. She feels it anytime her mother sneaks a gentle hand through her hair. The sensation of her nails scraping her scalp makes her head tingle and it shoots down her spine. Or when her fath squeezes her shoulder. Her body warms and tension subsides, tension she didn't know she had locked into her muscles. Any touch, has her chest swelling, a warmth spreads through her and her body hums. Her veins are fire as her cold, dead heart seemingly comes to life and that's when the need begins. The needing to be held, hugged, to be loved but,

Her eyes always sting with tears. They stab at her eyes and she has to hurry off after any physical contact. Her cheeks redden and her normally cold body is sickly hot. She would have to lock herself away to her room as these feelings course through her.

Breathe in, breathe deep, breathe through, breathe out. She would tell herself, trying to get rid of these feelings.

The whole sad thing about all of this is, the touches never made her feel bad. Never made her feel disgusted or scared. Never made her feel anything horrible.

No, something more terrible. They made her feel warm, safe, happy, cared for, and worse of all;

Loved.

And she says she doesn't want that, but there's a problem. A colorful and pestering problem.

Enid Sinclair.

Her smile is the brightest thing Wednesday has ever had the unfortunate opportunity to see. Her eyes shine and twinkle like some desperate house dog wanting a treat. And even worse, that pink sweater is the biggest eye sore Wednesday has ever seen.

"Please! Just this once, it'll be super quick! And you can totally shove me off!" There she goes again, sticking out her lower lip like it would add anything.

Wednesday clenches her teeth and almost wishes she could take back her invitation. She doesn't even know what possessed her to ask!

"Enid Sinclair, I understand that you will not be traveling home for the holiday season. I unfortunately will be and as much as I desire time away from you. Would you-" She stumbled over her words. Dry mouth and an elevated heartbeat. "Possibly, w-would you want-" She's going to actually kill herself. Wednesday Addams does not stutter.

"Would you like to come spend the holidays with me?" She rushed out, not smooth and calculated, but like a middle schooler asking out a crush.

God, this isn't a crush.

If it was any bit possible, somehow Enid's already nauseating bright smile became brighter.

"Really!? I would love to, Wednesday!" That's where she should've turned away or went out of the room but Wednesday stilled and couldn't pull her eyes away. She stood too long and gave Enid an opportunity.

"I know you aren't too great with hugs and all, but maybe just this once?"

Now here she stands, frozen in place and yet, she hasn't rejected the request. A hug. It could be short, maybe a quick side hug. Maybe just a pat on the back. Enid did say she could shove her off, that alone is tempting.

She doesn't realize how long she has truly taken just standing there, staring holes into Enid's impossibly blue eyes, until she sees the light dull out. Her smile slips off, no more teeth showing just a thin fake smile. Wednesday should be ecstatic, a few months ago she would've been. It would have been a victory to knock the werewolf down, to draw out a grimace, to extinguish that obnoxious smile,

But. It doesn't feel good.

"Actually, it's, umm, it's totally fine, Wednesday. It was stupid to ask and-"

Something Angelic has possessed her. Only something Holy and good would cause Wednesday to step forward and easily envelope Enid into her arms.

The first thing she notices is the sickening smell of the absolutely atrocious junk Enid constantly consumes. Wednesday has never seen the girl without a candy bar or some beef stick in her hands. She would never admit it, but she's a bit concern the girl will die by a heartattack before the end of the semester.

But under it all, the scent of strawberries stands out. It's...nice. An odd mixture of smells but it's something that's completely Enid.

The second thing is, Enid hugging her back instantly. She's strong. Not overwhelming, she's not crushing Wednesday but, it's secure. Her arms are shockingly toned, more than likely from her wolf genes. Enid is also an actual furnace. The second she engulfed Wednesday into her, heat just rolled off in buckets. The warmth makes Wednesday yearn to curl up into the girl and fall into a deep sleep. She can feel her own core temperature rise, her heart thawing out each second. That thought alone makes Wednesday want to push away.

Just as she thinks it, Enid tightens her arms around Wednesday's shoulders, burying Wednesday deeper into her neck. Strawberries suffocate her and shockwaves flow through her.

An onslaughter of tingles and warmth zip down her spine and expand out to every inch of her. Her body buzzes, not the small hums she gets from the passing touches of her parents, no this is electrifying.

Her head pounds, the rush of endorphins is new and surprisingly not unwelcomed. It's a bit addictive and she almost understands why Enid insists on hugging everyone. It makes Wednesday remember her childhood again and that, need, gnaws at her chest again. She has to force her body from shaking as that burning sensation starts behind her eyes. Her heartbeat rattles in her ribcage and everything in her tells her to run and lock herself away. It's so much, too much, and all consuming. And yet, her own grip tightens around Enid's waist, against her better judgment.

Wednesday feels, safe and warm and cared for and, worst of all,

Loved.

It isn't until Enid releases a deep sigh that Wednesday finally comes out of the fog. She stiffens before pushing away and hurrying to her side of the room. She prays that Enid didn't see her glossy eyes or flush cheeks.

"You smell of stale Twinkies and burnt hotdogs. You're a garbage disposal of a person and I suspect you'll die before the New Year." She says smoothly, thankfully.

Of course, Enid doesn't miss a beat, she never does. "I enjoyed the hug too, Wednesday. We should do it more often."

Enid Sinclair shall be the demise of Wednesday Addams.

[prettygreenpills]

hey, I am here for kinktober day 5 with Morticia Addams? Maybe a bit of angry mommy Morticia taking her anger out on the reader? Thank you! I love your works and can’t wait to read more for the kinktober!

have a nice day

Hi anon! Here it is!

KINKTOBER day 5 | breath play - Morticia Addams

You need some air darling?

warnings: breath play, choking, fingering, thigh riding, mommy!morticia, etc.

“Will you excuse us Larissa?” Morticia asked your principal kindly and you looked at her with horror in your eyes.

“Of course Tish,” your principal said only and you felt your organs shake. Morticia took your hand and pulled you out of the office you three had a meeting in and she started walking towards your room she knew you didn’t share with anyone.

When she opened the doors of your room, she pushed you inside, closing them shut behind herself.

“Take off your clothes darling.”

“But Tish-“

“I said, take them off,” Morticia looked you deep into your eyes and you didn’t dare to not follow her instructions. You started taking your clothes off for her. When you took off the last piece as well, what left you naked in the room, you looked at Morticia who was standing still and looking out of the window.

“Onto the bed, legs up,” she ordered you and that was the moment she turned to face you. You nodded your head and laid onto your back, taking your calf muscles and pulling your legs up.

And like that, you were all exposed to Morticia. When she saw your glistening naked core aching for her, she just smiled and looked you into your face.

You let out a soft breath, which was like a call for the black haired woman. She walked over to the bed and knelt onto the mattress you were laying on. You looked down at her and breathed out.

“Please-“

“Begging now are we?” She cocked an eyebrow at you and tilted her head to the side. Her hand travelled up your already naked body and she pinched your nipple. Letting out a gasp for her, you tilted your head back and didn’t even realize what a good move it was for Morticia.

Her strong hand immediately grasped you by your neck. She pulled herself closer to you and her free hand wandered down your core.

“Mhm-“

“Shut up now. You were flirting with Larissa in that office, god knows how many times she had fucked you while I was gone,” Morticia stated and you shook your head no.

“She- s-she didn’t-“

“I said keep your mouth shut,” Morticia seemed even more angry than before and you bit on your lower lip, trying to get some oxygen to your lungs. Even though you couldn’t.

Keeping your mouth shut like you were told, when Morticia’s fingers slipped inside of your slippery wet cunt, you only bit on your lip. Her fingers were stretching you out so well and all you were allowed to do was laying there on the bed and taking what she was giving to you.

Your mouth opened and it was totally out of your control. A gasp left from between your delicate cherry lips and you started to feel a little lightheaded.

Morticia looked up at you. Smirking only, she released your throat for a second, but when she was sure you took a proper breath, she leant onto her hand which was placed on your neck again and started choking you even more.

Her fingers became faster and…. Thicker. You didn’t know if she added another one or not, but she was stretching you out to that point when it started to hurt. While she was focusing on your cunt, her hand loosened a little and you could take a small breath.

“You will show me who owns you. You will cum for me, like this. Understood?”

You didn’t speak, just nodded your head. Morticia seemed to be satisfied by your answer and when she curled her fingers, you bucked your hips against her hand.

“So needy aren’t we?” She asked you. “Hm? Cara Mia?”

“Please-“

“Go ahead. Don’t ignore your needs,” she whispered into your ear and her fingers went even deeper inside of you. She was hitting your spot with the top of them and your eyes rolled back into your scalp.

Your face was read already from all of the blood which wasn’t allowed to flow down to the rest of your body. Your neck hurt from how Morticia was choking you and when her fingers pumped rougher, you clenched your thighs.

“Shit!” You gasped out, as loud as Morticia’s hand allowed you to. Your thighs clenched and you tried to keep them together as much as you could.

“Hush, we are not done,” Morticia growled at you and she pulled her fingers out. She took your hips and lifted you up while she sat onto the edge of the bed. She pulled her skirt up so it was around her beautiful waist and she sat you onto her bony thigh.

As her body made contact with your centre, and it wasn’t really gentle, you whined. Without any waiting, Morticia placed her pale hands onto your hips and started guiding you up and down on her thigh, making sure she would spread your folds to bring you more pleasure.

“Now this is just a little teasing. You’re not allowed to touch me, place your hands onto your thighs,” Morticia commanded to you and when you did as she said, her hand grabbed your throat again, her fingertips burying into your soft skin.

“Ah-“

Her free hand took you by your hip. She was so strong, there were no doubts in that. Using only one hand, she started moving your lower body on her thigh and choking you again.

You had your eyes closed and your fingernails started showing into your thighs immediately and Morticia accidentally parted your folds. Your clit was in contact with her thigh and the burning sensation the woman was making you feel started to be more uncomfortable than comfortable.

Your loud moan brought Morticia’s attention to your face. She brushed your hair out of your face and then she took your hip again, pushing you down onto her thigh even more.

Shaking on her from the stimulation was what made you feel so embarrassed. Soft moans which bubbled out of your throat were the only signs of that something was going on in the room.

“H-hurts-“

“Now, do you know why is all of this happening?” Morticia asked, looking you straight into your eyes. When she realized that a tear fall from them, she let go of your neck and used her hand on your hips, fucking you on herself.

“B-because-“ you started but had to clear your throat. When you swallowed and it hurt, you were sure about that a bruise was forming there. “Because I was flirting with Larissa-“

“That’s right,” Morticia agreed with you and when she felt your thighs clench and heard you hiss, she looked up at you. “Do you think you deserve to cum?”

“N-No Mistress-“

“That’s right,” Morticia said and when she knew that you were so close to your release, she lifted you up from her thigh and sat you onto the bed. “Now look what a mess you’ve made.”

“I am so sorry,” you whispered and pulled your thighs closer to your chest. You didn’t dare to look up at her until you didn’t hear her approach the bed again. You looked up with fear in your eyes and you just listened.

“Don’t you dare flirt with anyone while you’re here or you’ll end up so much worse. Understood?”

“Yes Mistress,” you whispered and furrowed your eyebrows because your throat hurt. You didn’t even try swallowing. Of course her behavior made you feel butterflies in your stomach, there was no questioning it.

And as she said before you left to study at Nevermore. She would teach you a lesson once you misbehave. And that day way today.

[flayedintheusa]

Hallucinogenics

// ao3 // Hallucinogenics - Matt Maeson: YouTube // Spotify //

They thought it would be funny. 

Every idea is always real funny, in theory. And, like, super smart pre-practice. A real brain-baby. Extreme intelligence. 

And then you’re standing in a hallway wondering why your legs feel like rivers, not quite sure what that means, only that it’s true. There’s no other way to describe the feeling of muscles turning into rivulets of water over stones, vibrating incessantly and wondering, if you dared to take a step, would you sink into an amorphous puddle from your heel to your hip?

The answer is no, you don’t. You do, however, feel the answering thud of every footstep reverberate through your body, all the way up your bones, crawling up your spine, giving your organs vertigo; the only reason the nausea doesn’t meet the proper brain waves is because you’re so focused on why you are moving and what you are moving to. Or through. 

The air feels like liquid— or at least like the heaviest steam ever endured from the post-practice showers. It’s thick, and Steve's lungs don’t expand enough anyway. They can feel the way his skin stretches on inhale— his abdomen, his chest, his back and shoulders— and they don’t like it. At least not right now. They’re very busy, his lungs, maintaining the pulsing of a heart that feels like it’s been wrapped tight to his spine with Saran wrap. 

There’s also, like, thirteen different colors he hasn’t seen before, and one of them has to leave because thirteen is a very unlucky number. 

The warp of the walls swallows him whole as he moves toward the living room, the beat of whatever is playing turning his brain from its current spiral-state into a drum-induced fuzz. His reckless heartbeat tries to keep pace with it, ignoring the plastic wrapped around it— how it tightens the walls around his lungs. 

The hall spits him out into the living room. Some people move quickly, others very slowly. Some not at all. None seem to notice him. He watches them, aware of nothing but themselves. 

The plaid of Nancy’s skirt extends into the space around itself, the yellow crosshatching lines leaning in to grip the pockets on Jonathan’s pants. He’s swinging his beer bottle slightly, and it lags on the back bow, the glint of it colliding with Eddie’s pocket chain. It slithers away from him, and Steve feels like he should let him know. It’s on the run. 

Steve glances up to look at him, with his long, feral hair and devil-horned shirt, realizing in the moment that noises are futile. His throat is lined with psilocybin; his tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth like a suction cup to glass. When their eyes connect, Eddie lifts his hands into horns and widens his eyes, sticking his tongue out past his grin. His face swirls around in circles and Steve feels his own eyes widen at the spiral. 

There’s suddenly large, warm hands on both of his shoulders that instantly cause him to turn cold with shock, the immediate surprise slipping down his body like ice water, like the foam of a wave as it slides down the shore; he feels every part of himself as it cascades over him until the floor swallows it. The hands move his body to the side— out of the way of the hall— and Argyle’s large, closed grin appears over his shoulder, very close to his face. His eyes are hardly visible, and the blanket of his hair swallows him like a shroud. Like a funeral veil. Or Morticia Addams. 

“Do you feel it?” he asks, his face unmoving, the voice echoing under the music. It bounces around in Steve’s brain, lagging, deeper than it should be, synapses firing slowly. Argyle turns his face to the crowd in slow motion; he looks at Eddie, gives him a labored thumbs up, or maybe Steve’s just seeing everything like a fish in a tank. 

He watches the taller teen’s shadow leave with a blur trailing behind it, like time struggles to keep up with the movement, and a new song kicks up. Eddie points at Steve knowingly as he sips his bottle, time apparently unwilling to slow for him as he moves about wildly, yet languorously. 

Pushing past the limit Trippin' on hallucinogenics My cigarette burnt my finger  'Cause I forgot I lit it

He doesn’t know why Eddie’s smiling. He can’t hear it. Everything’s warbled except the hollow pulse of the strum; and that’s mainly because he can feel it. It demands him, swallows him up via the floor and unrelenting until it reaches the crown of his head. A body moves past him, a dark shadow, and he follows it with his eyes on instinct. It enters the passage to the kitchen, fairy and Christmas lights tacked carelessly to the ceiling to illuminate the dark. Some of them flash. It overwhelms his senses. The bar counter juts out into the living space, chairs littered about and caricature bodies taking up the seats like people in a painting. Ribbons float between them, and his eyes follow the spiritual amalgamation of mist to its source slowly. Not mist, smoke. 

At the edge of the bar, a cigarette sits limply between two fingers. Two fingers that belong to Billy Hargrove, who stares at him from ten feet away. 

Rippin' with my sinners  'Cause fuck it, man, I ain't no beginner

He’s smiling, teeth bright in the shine of the Christmas lights, eyes lidded and elbow propped on the back of his chair. Steve tries to understand which of the dark curls twined about him are real, and which are shadows. 

And then I crawled back to the life  That I said I wouldn't live in

The lights glint off of that faultless hair, some steady and some flashing, and the reds and blues and greens bounce back from the curls into his irises like a dented halo. His leg is stretched out before him, the other bent to rest his boot against the foot bar of the stool. He looks measured, and relaxed. Like composure with the backbone of a puddle. 

'Cause I just couldn't open up I'm always shiftin'

Steve feels the directness of his stare a little too deeply. He’s facing him fully, and Steve feels like, somewhere in the quicksand of his mind, there’s always some kind of game. He always has to match it. He lets his shoulder drag against the wall, steadying himself as he turns. He tilts his head against it, the leisurely hum of the music more prominent, and in an instant the sound opens up to him. Hargrove’s smile shifts, pinching his bottom lip between his canines. 

Go find yourself a man  Who's strong and tall and Christian

The following silence is loud. The word Christian lingers in the air between them, rests on these ropes he feels tethered to each of their chests, like some kind of mockery. He reaches a hand out slowly in front of him like he could swipe the ropes away, or at least follow it to find where it’s linked to him and untie it. Hargrove follows his movements steadily, studying, copying him like a perfect mirror. Steve wonders if that means he’s smiling, too. 

The sudden sound is loud, bright, like simply the entrance of booming noise has caused the sure, definite lines of solid things to bounce and reverberate and change color. He jumps. 

Pushing past the limit Trippin' on hallucinogenics

Across from him, Hargrove’s body moves in a steady twitch, and Steve realizes he’s laughing. He suddenly jumps himself, visibly hissing as he throws his cigarette behind him. 

My cigarette burnt my finger  'Cause I forgot I lit it

The perfect timing of the lyrics, delivered by that grieving voice, makes Steve laugh too. To his surprise, Hargrove is still smiling when he resettles. When they connect again. His smile slowly closes, his eyes shuttering heavily, and he looks away to reach ever so slowly to the floor behind the corner of the bar. Steve watches the way the lights fight to rest on his hair, growing and flowing and dancing on a floor they grace for mere moments, with what other than enrapture. 

He leans back up with two bottles gripped into his hand, rests the cap of one on the edge of the counter and smacking it down, followed closely by the other. He looks at Steve again, hardly arching a single brow. 

Steve wonders if he can trust the rivers of his legs to move more than they already have. 

Drunken in Seattle Two more Xans and without a paddle I don't remember your face  Or your hair, or your name, or your smile

He’s sharpened up close. Almost too sharp. 

Steve can track the shadows as they grow over him, as he moves closer. How his hair becomes easier to discern from shadow to curl, how his lashes develop their own as they flit over his cheeks, which themselves become sharper as the lights stake their righteous claim above him. His tan, his freckles, his pores, his blush, his dimples, they’re all littered with a glow that seems… well, lovely, doesn’t it?

It’s hard to think he’s ever had any bite, here, glittering with the psychedelics in his system. Unbidden. Uncaring. Enamored. Enthralled. 

There’s something pulling on the ropes. He feels it viscerally. 

He finds a way to uncurl his fingers, feels every bone. They wrap around the bottle. The index finger of his other hand slides the bottle cap toward himself, spins it. 

'Cause I just couldn't open up I'm always shiftin' Go find yourself a man  Who's strong and tall and Christian

“Are you Christian, Harrington?” Hargrove smirks, slightly blocked by the neck of his bottle. The words are clearer than Argyle’s. They strike him, resound in his skull, lose definition the more he thinks about how they sound before he can even think to ponder what they mean. 

The bottle is cold in his hand. Wet from the cooler it was sitting in. He brings it to his lips, wondering how anything in the world claiming to be a drink can make his mouth feel dryer, somehow. “Don’t know him,” he says, sliding the cap toward Hargrove. “Heard he’s a pretty good doctor.”

Hargrove laughs. It’s a nice sound. He shakes his head, the mullet ruffles, he wants to touch it. 

Pushing past the limit Trippin' on hallucinogenics

“That's miracles, not treatment,” he offers. Steve wants to ask if he’s Christian. He sinks his fingers into his hair instead. 

And then I crawled back to the life  That I said I wouldn't live in

His smile disappears. His eyes, as hooded as they were before, don’t shift. His lips part on their own accord, a small cave of risk that allows Steve to feel the uninhibited breath that falls past them and ghosts over the inside of his forearm. It’s softer than he’d thought it would be, Billy’s hair. The curls hug his fingers as they wrap around his digits, unfurling lightly as they move through to the ends. He twists them between his fingertips as he reaches their tips, the soft tug enticing Billy to follow. 

Steve leans closer, over the plane of the counter, and does it again. The stone sends cool pricks through his skin, taking the majority of weight he didn’t know until now was a task to hold up. 

Billy leans forward too, following the tug of Steve’s fingers. His body turns only slightly, facing Steve fully again; his elbows rest on the bar, eyes unable to cease their scour of his face. 

'Cause I carried on like the wayward son And now through and through, I've come undone

It seems to echo in Billy’s mind, based on the way he traces the word undone voicelessly. Steve traces his lips with his eyes as he does. The swell of his bottom lip. The curves of his cupid's bow. The gap left between them as he seems to stare at Steve’s own. The way his tongue darts out to wet it, catching on the dry skin and memorizing the way it pulls. He mirrors it subconsciously, and Billy’s eyes flash to his. 

And now I am just but the wayward man What with my bloodshot eyes and my shaky hand

Steve reaches the ends of his hair again, and he thinks of a time when he’ll be allowed to touch it after this. How it might not come. And that’s just… not something he wants to think about. He wants to think about the way it feels, silkily sliding down the joints of his fingers, softly slipping over their pads. The traces of his prints left on each strand. What it would feel like if… if—

He doesn’t quite formulate the thought before it happens, those freezing, ice blue eyes driving deep into his as he reaches up again. No sign of halting him. He pushes his fingers midway into the longest strands— the locks that cascade over his shoulder, resting easily on his collar bone— and winds them up over his knuckles, until they rest by the root, and tugs. 

A small moan. 

'Cause I carried on like the wayward son And now through and through, I've come undone

Steve sighs. The opposite of a gasp; it leaves him softly, hot, in a quick breath. Billy’s fingers wrap suddenly around his wrist. His eyes—at some point having closed— flutter open. Lids heavy. Steve’s mouth feels dry for a completely different reason. He realizes he feels hot. Unbearably warm. Like there’s fire all around him, inside of him, and it’s consuming him at a much faster rate than he wishes to allow, wanting this moment to last forever. 

Those pools delve into him, and he swims. The lifeguard with eyes that look exactly like the water he maintains. He carries them with him everywhere, wherever he goes, and Steve drowns in them. Wonders if Billy will pull him out, if he’ll save him. Or if this is what being saved feels like. 

His fingers are tight around Steve’s wrist. Almost bruising. It anchors him, only slightly. To his detriment, it also pulls him in. 

And now I am just but the wayward man What with my bloodshot eyes and my shaky hand

His grip tightens again, tugging, and Billy leans further in. And he’s not sure who fills the space, but suddenly his lips feel the fire. A furnace of lit heat, as they move across Billy’s. Whatever the trip was before seems to narrow down into a fine tip, fitting on the head of a needle, as his brain zeroes in on this one point. The slotting of his mouth against his own, Billy’s hand reaching up into Steve’s own hair, tugging and trailing down as it brushes over his ear, holding his jaw tight and forceful. Like he’s afraid he’ll fly away. Dissipate into a mirage. 

They fall apart and come back together fast, needy, release and recapture, and Steve’s head spins. Billy Hargrove tastes like beer and cigarettes and cherry gum. He smells like smoke and mahogany and coconut and chlorine. He feels like timber and granite and silk and fire. He sounds like a dream. 

His tongue drifts out against Steve’s lip, and he hauls Billy in closer, opening easily, moaning softly as it swipes against his own. Positively laves it. He needs purchase, needs it like the minimal air he’s receiving, and needs to hold onto this because he’s never felt anything quite like Billy Hargrove’s mouth. 

Steve’s other hand slides up around his cheek, fingers lining the hairline at the top of his neck, tilts his head further to delve into his mouth, it’s his turn. He steps into his space, Billy’s palm tightening on his jaw as he eases back onto his stool. He takes his place between Billy’s knees, nipping at his lip, pulls it with his teeth. 

His other fist is wrapped into Steve’s shirt, his eyes glazed as he looks up under those shadow-cast lashes at Steve, too close, not close enough. There’s almost a question somewhere in the depths of his deep blue eyes, darkened by something discreetly impure. Something indignant. 

Steve feels his tunnel vision spiral. His heart rate is no longer influenced by the music. His lips buzz; they taste like cigarettes, like cherry gum, when sucked into his mouth. He takes the leap, leans in to what he wants. Swings his leg over Billy’s thigh, presses fully against him. Watches, feels, through his chest, his neck, his mouth, as Billy groans, and catches it as it falls past his lips. Hungry. Savage and feral. 

His hands sink into his hair, fisting it tight. Billy’s wrap around his hips like a vice, pushing him down, pulling him forward. 

“Fuck,” he groans. 

Pushing past the limit Trippin' on hallucinogenics

Steve presses a thigh into him. Licking into his mouth, addicted from the first hit. His skin is a livewire. It buzzes everywhere Billy touches. His lips slide with purpose, press to eat him alive, consumption the only drive. His head spins, and Billy’s going to kill him. 

He always thought it would be from his fists. 

Not from the pure ecstasy of his mouth. His lips. His tongue. Driving him wild. Carrying him away like a tidal wave. 

My cigarette burnt my finger  'Cause I forgot I lit it

[niyabiblioteca]

all hallows eve

PAIRING: bestfriend!dino x fem!reader

WARNINGS: definitely not direct smut cuz im uninspired, suggestive, groping, costumes, profanity, college au

god, why does he look so fucking good in a black suit?

—————————————————————————————————————

halloween has always been your favorite holiday. since you were a child.

and ever since you were a child, you’ve been celebrating with your best friend, chan. you two have always come up with amazing duo costumes and it was something you considered a tradition of love between you two.

no one else had loved the day like you had except for him.

basic costumes from mickey and minnie to morticia and gomez, as you’ve grown the costumes have matured with you. and every time you get confused for being a couple. at this point you both entertain the idea because yeah, these are practically couples costumes.

and this year you’ve kept the ball rolling.

you were currently in your room adding the last finishing touches to your makeup. chan had been waiting out in the living room for you as you had both been supposed to go to a party on campus.

you had taken the week before to plan costumes and had both decided on being the classic devil and angel duo. of course, however, with your own spin.

you had chosen to be a devil “in disguise” as you had called it in such a cheesy way that chan couldn’t refuse. and vice versa.

but you decided to surprise each other.

putting the last bit of black and red lipstick was the last touch before you took a step back and looked at yourself in the mirror. the all white satin dress that just came above your knees and hugged your curves beautifully would surely scream “angel”. but then the black leather fishnets and harnesses surrounding your chest and thighs would make people question their first thought. and then of course the black horns and tail but that would probably be the last thing they noticed.

you grabbed your things as you finally made your way out, excited to get going but even more excited to see chan’s costume.

as you turned the corner, you saw him. but then, you couldn’t seem to take another step.

he was standing with his forearms on the kitchen counter as he played on his phone waiting for you.

his black tight fitting suit that hugged his freshly buff body so well. the arms that he worked so hard to bulk up. your mind instantly switched to him using those strong muscles to sweep you off your feet or shove you against the wall to take over you and your body at his leisure.

his black eye makeup with a pearly face chain sat right underneath was the next thing you noticed. not only were you thoroughly impressed with the look, but you also were so incredibly aroused by the thought of him smudging your makeup to look just like his as he absolutely pounds his every inch into you.

his faux lip ring that you noticed as he played with it with the tip of his tongue. the same tongue that you imagined tangled with yours, or between your legs, flicking your clit back and forth at both slow and unforgiving paces. you might just feel the cold lip ring against you as he does it, too.

the hands that are holding his phone, donned with pearly rings and black painted nails. veins ever so prominent, just as you’re sure they would be if they were wrapped around your neck to get you to shut up, or fisting your hair to make you scream at the top of your lungs.

his beautiful hair in the mullet that you’ve grown to love so much, flawless and shiny as ever. oh how you want to run your fingers through it as you smash your lips against his.

it wasn’t until you reached the point of his outfit, the big white angel wings and halo, that you finally started to snap out of it as you heard your name.

“y/n? y/n! helloooo, what’s going on with you? c’mon put on your shoes, we have to go!”

you blinked twice before finally moving a centimeter out of the hallway.

“ah, r-right. sorry, i’m ready.”

you slid your shoes on, having to lift each of your legs to pull them on. you definitely noticed the cold air hitting your now soaked panties underneath your dress.

and all you could think about was, will chan notice?

oh, how you wanted him to notice.

as you both walked through the door and to the elevator, chan almost felt bad for staring at your flawless legs the whole time, bulging with the tight straps around them.

suddenly, his mind started to wander…

————————————————————————

[sinsdaycorp]

No beta, we die like Weems.

Here, have a WenClair Drabble cause I had half a moment to myself today.

-

The first day back at Nevermore, Wednesday walks ahead of Lurch who was carrying her trunks filled with all her items. And was met with a surprise embrace as soon as the door opened to the dorm she shared with the blonde.

Enid’s muscles had come in, her hair was slightly shorter and she was definitely a few inches taller.

Wednesday had never experienced the need for water as much as she had in that moment.

She’d kept in touch with Enid, she promised the blonde she would, and choosing to ignore the stalker, she instead sent Enid a message after working the number out of Xavier.

She then blocked his number so he wouldn’t bother her.

She only kept in contact with Enid. She knew the reason, she saw it when she was around her parents. She wanted to treat Enid the way her parents treated each other.

But she wasn’t going to, because Enid was special and deserved so much more.

The acts of affection started small.

Enid and Wednesday would be sitting in the quad at the usual table they’d always occupied, sitting beside each other, pressed together from shoulder to ankle.

Enid was talking animatedly to Yoko about classes and that’s when it started.

Enid flourished her hands out in exaggeration and swiped her tray off the table with the flurry of movement.

Yoko was laughing so hard at Enid’s heartbroken look at her nearly full plate.

Wednesday, without taking her eyes off her book, slid her half eaten tray to the side and picked up her fork, holding it out towards Enid.

The blonde cheered up and started to eat as she continued talking to yoko, the way her foot tapped Wednesdays in a light thanks was enough for Wednesday’s heart to stutter.

Another time, it was in the greenhouse at the Addams’ home, Enid was getting too close to a plant while walking backwards as she spoke to Morticia about her own plant studies in school.

The subtlest touch to Enid’s elbow to stop one of morticia’s plants from biting the blonde.

Wednesdays hand felt like it was burning from touching the colourful sweater the rest of the day, but it was worth it to see Enid not be hurt.

At a parents day, Enid (and Wednesday just standing there) was talking to Gomez about her fencing classes when the blonde stopped, a scent catching the wolfs nose and she let out a low shuddering growl from deep in her throat as her eyes flickered across the entrance to the quad to see Murray and Esther Sinclair were making their way over.

Wednesday took Enid’s hand, letting her know she was there. As Gomez and Morticia stood and protectively shielded Enid from the blondes parents passing by, selectively ignoring Enid to go see her brother and cousins.

Enid excused herself and gave Wednesdays hand a light squeeze before leaving.

“Go to her, Wednesday,” Morticia said softly.

Gomez nodded.

Wednesday didn’t need to be told twice, taking off after Enid. She found her hiding in an alcove beneath some stairs, claws extended and hands planted over her mouth as she sobbed silently.

Wednesday carefully took the hands, gently stroking her thumbs across knuckles. When Enid took a shaky breath and opened her eyes to meet Wednesdays obsidian gaze, Wednesday brought a hand up, her sleeve pulled over the heel of her palm, she brushed the tears away.

“Don’t cry because of them, they’re not worth your tears or the breath you’ve wasted thinking of them. We are your family ma puce,” Wednesday murmured and pulled Enid’s hands to her waist before settling her hands on Enid’s cheeks. “You’re an Addams by extension, don’t waste time thinking about those people.”

Enid sniffled and nodded, dropping slightly to bury her face against Wednesdays neck, sliding her arms from Wednesdays waist to curl around her back, holding her tight.

“I’m sorry.”

“Never apologise to me, Enid. Not for feeling, not for anything. You are precious to me, and I will take you into my arms whenever you need me to. I will use my last breath to tell you I love you.”

Enid lifted her head. She knew their friendship had changed, the night Crackstone was defeated it had changed. She felt her love for Wednesday growing stronger every day since then.

But hearing Wednesday say those eight letters, Enid’s heart slammed heavily against her ribs.

Their eyes met again and as Wednesday licked her lips, Enid’s eyes dropped to watch the tongue peak out and disappear once more. Her throat dried.

This was t the first time she’d thought of kissing her best friend. It wasn’t the first time Wednesday had thought about kissing her either.

But it was the first time they acted on it, Wednesday curling her fingers into the hair as the base of Enid’s neck as she shifted to lean up on her toes. Enid leaning down, tightening her fingers to grip into the back of Wednesdays jacket, knuckles turning white in her grip as their lips finally touched for the first time.

Brief, and soft, and enough for them to know that their love was definitely returned by the other.

“Come along, Enid. I believe you challenged Pugsley to an eating contest, yes?”

Enid nodded, her eyes flitting back to Wednesdays lips. The goth pecked the blondes lips once more and pulled away from her completely, holding out a hand.

“Together, we shall go back out there, no one has to know you’ve been upset. Put on a mask, and smile. We can talk more about this later. Okay?”

Enid nodded dumbly, taking Wednesdays hand. Their fingers threaded together as they made their way back out to the table to find Gomez and Morticia gone, but Pugsley was still there, talking with Eugene.

Eugene gave them a welcoming smile.

“Wednesday, you didn’t tell me your brother was coming to Nevermore.”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “Yes, well… I thought you didn’t like bad news.”

Enid scoffed a laugh, shaking her head as she gave Wednesdays hand a playful squish.

“Be nice.”

“Yeah, Wednesday, be nice,” Pugsley said with a poke of his tongue.

Wednesday’s eyebrows shot up. “On the other hand. Having him here would be nice, I am getting rusty on my arrow shooting on live targets. Pugsley will be a great target.”

Pugsley grinned. “And water boarding?”

“Every day.” Wednesday promised.