#he is my everything and thinking about him makes my heart feel weird

[backofhismomsmercury]

spencer reid nsfw alphabet

( @backofhismomsmercury edition :3 )

18+ mdni. or don’t, what u view online is up 2 u.

this is like mostly softdom!spencer (what else is new)

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

tooth achingly sweet. like just so so so soo loving, he’d just lay with you and hold you and tell you how good you did/how proud he is, and how much he loves and appreciates you (im gnawing at the bars of my enclosure)

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

literally his brain lol, but also he likes his hair a lot, (even if he looks like he doesn’t brush it half the time lol) i think he likes having it played with/brushed/pulled (braided even..? he likes the feeling, finds it relaxing.)

he also likes his hands (he thinks they’re pretty?) i don’t think he knows why, but other people like them. which he doesn’t really understand because they’re always cold and not really soft because of how much he washes them. but he knows people like them, so he likes them. 

his fav on you is probs your legs/thighs. he likes having them wrapped around him, and he likes laying on them, he just thinks they’re pretty.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

his own? he thinks it’s messy, gross, doesn’t like when it gets everywhere and probably hates even touching it. doesn’t like feeling sticky or sitting with it, he cleans it up right away. definitely doesn’t like the idea of you swallowing it. (he’d probs still let you if you REALLY wanted to.)

but yours..? ohhh he loves it. (still thinks its kindaaa gross, just cuz it is what it is.) but he’d like having it on him, he’d like watching you cum too, esp. on his hands or thigh.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

LOVEEESSSS HAVING HIS HAIR PULLEDDDD. idk why i just feel this in my gut. not too rough though.. he’s sensitive :( but just a little bit. like while he’s going down on you or even just making out. doesn’t matter, just pull it. (now if we’re talking about sub!spencer OHHHH he loves it even more, he’ll deadass start crying, lol fucking loser.)

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s not reeaallllyyy experienced, but he fucks from time to time, he knows what he’s doing. he’s smart, he’s read up on this shit. 

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

the basics, and anything where he can see your face. i think he likes being underneath you. even if he’s acting more dominant, i think he still likes being in a more submissive position.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s somewhere in between, but probs more serious. i think he gets in his own head and wants to make sure he’s doing everything right

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

verrrryyyyy well trimmed, he hates germs and feeling gross. i think he’d actually take a lot of time trimming it and making it feel and look clean, mostly for his own peace of mind.

also, i’d love to be like “he’s grown!!! he doesn’t care if his partner has hair!!!” but ngl that's just not possible because he actually thinks it's gross. just shave and he’ll be fine.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

ohh this mf is sappy as FUCK. he’s such a romantic at heart, he’d take his time & go slow and it’d just be constant ‘i love you’s and praise.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i think in the early seasons, he doesn’t do it a lot. when he does he just feels kinda bad about it. he knows it's not wrong, it just makes him feel weird. maybe as time goes on he does it more, i don’t really know tbh.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

honestly i don’t think he’s really kinky. i think a lot of stuff would be hard for him to get into because he sees so much insane shit at work all the time (again, he’s sensitive) but like i said i think he lovvveeeess when you pull his stupid perfect hair. 

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

at home. his or yours, doesn’t matter. he wouldn’t do anything in public, i think he’s waaayyy too anxious for that. he’d be CONVINCED that someone would see you, and he’d be too nervous to even do a good job lol. i don't think he’d really care where at home, but he’d mostly like the bed or the couch, just somewhere where he can take his sweet time. i think he’d appreciate the shower from time to time though.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally anything you do. you. you. you!!! he just loves you!!!! he lovesss hearing your voice, especially when you’re talking about something you learned. i think spencer finds your intelligence so attractive because he was embarrassed about his own for a long time. (idk if that makes sense ??? but whatever)

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i think the list of shit he’s not into is a lottttttt longer than the list of shit he likes lol. idk he’s just not really kinky, but he definitely wouldn’t be into feet, piss/scat, anal, anything age related, the list goes on.. i think he’s just very normal and he’s okay with that. 

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

not to be too controversial.. cause i do think he loves giving, but i think he LOVVVEEESS receiving. he’s a man after all, he would love some good head. he’ll always return the favor though.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he’s too not rough and he never would be, he wouldn’t want to hurt you. i think his general pace is somewhere in between, not too slow, not too fast, but he’ll go faster if you ask him to.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn’t like them. again, he likes to take his sweet time!!!

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

like i said, i don’t think he’s really kinky but i do think he’d be down to try some stuff. he just wouldn’t bring anything up, he’d wait for you to suggest whatever.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i deadass think he passes out after once round. i mean come on, he doesn’t work out, he’s a fucking pipe cleaner (with eyes.) he’s just not going for more than maybe 2 rounds max. i think he can maybe last a while during one round, but he gets sleepy fast. (aww :3)

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i don’t think he cares for them. would probably be open though?

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

spencer doesn’t ever like to see you in and kind of discomfort, but he does like to tease quite a bit, and he knows you like it too. it never lasts too long though. (mostly because you beg and ask him so nicely, but also because it makes him feel kinda mean.)

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

oh he’s LOUDDD. especially sub!spencer. that mf whimpers and whines like there's no tomorrow. i think softdom!spencer is loud too, but he tries to be quieter cause he wants to hear you.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

would let you peg him. wouldn’t ask though. (i will not be writing this, don’t ask lol)

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

LONG AND SKINNY!!!! just like the rest of his body. 

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

it’s not too high, but it’s definitely not low. just thinking about you makes him dizzy, but he has pretty good self control.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

INSTANTLY. he’s a sleepy guy!!!!! spencer obviously doesn’t have a lot of physical energy to begin with so i think it’s quite exhausting for him. (but he loves it)

<3

thank you so much for reading!!! i had so much fun writing this!!!! :)

sorry i haven't been super active, i've been quite busy these last few weeks, but i'll be back with some new stuff soon i promise!! hope this can feed you guys until then.. lol :)))

[georgiapeach30513]

Much Too Fast, Part 4

Summary: time for some truth

Pairings: Curtis Everett X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings:  language, mild sexual imagery, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.2K

Previous

Series Masterlist

To say that your mind has been racing since that night with Curtis would be an understatement. You and Curtis had this raw — attraction. And even that is putting it mildly. You had long given up on the fact that it was just sexual attraction. That is clearly there. My god was it there. Every night your body hungered for him. Could still feel his hands all over your body, and the way that he stretched you out, but it still felt like he fit perfectly.

You never thought you would ever see him again, and this predicament that you are in is nauseating. You have to see him every day, and you get to see him with a child. Not just a child, but this sweet clingy baby. She is completely a daddy’s girl, and you find him so much more attractive because of it. And it sucked. And not the good kind of suck. The worst kind. The kind that is irritating because you can’t do anything about it.

He is married. Regardless of whatever their relationship was or is, he is still legally married. Tati hadn’t been in the house long enough for you to see if he did in fact sleep alone or with her. Poet had space in his room, and yeah, you were nosy and checked her mom’s room, and there was no signs of Tati being a mother or Poet having space there. It looked just like a staged room that

The living room is decorated in black and white photos of the sweet baby, and even of Curtis and her, and you have discovered only one where Tati was photographed with her daughter. You could completely be projecting, but you didn’t see the same glow about her or warmth in her eyes like you did Curtis’. And you wondered if Tati resented Curtis for making her have Poet.

The sentiment that she didn’t want her baby lingered in your mind. And you fully believed women should have the right to choose the path for themselves, but you couldn’t imagine a life without Poet. It puts you in such a predicament because you love this baby, and you find yourself judging Tati for the life she didn’t want, but chose for someone else. And clearly she let Curtis take the brunt of the responsibility. As is her right, and Curtis didn’t seem to mind.

But watching the sweet baby crawl around her play area while you make her something to eat, and she sits up to jabber away at you makes your heart swell. Bursting wide open because you want to give her all the mothering love you could. Something inside of you told you that Tati didn’t make that a priority. It is a weird sick cycle that she was present enough to say she’s a mother, and then away more than you were told to live the life that she actually wanted.

It put Poet in a an uncomfortable limbo. She could never be at ease in her own home, and that hurts your heart more than anything. That this small baby who could only crawl knew there is a disconnect between her and her mother. And it made you that much more protective of her, and also believe Curtis’ words more because why would he lie? He didn’t seem like the one that struggled to find someone to have sex with.

Of course you told yourself that he was someone who couldn’t just sleep with anyone. Even though he slept with you after knowing you for a few hours. But that was completely different. There was an odd connection. Hopefully you aren’t just thinking that to make yourself feel better about that one night stand. But what were the chances that you were thrust into his life in a more permanent way?

How was it that this guy you met one night was the very same guy that you were hired to watch his daughter? Was this divine intervention in your life or was this a sign for you to stop thinking everything is connected. That those coincidences still actually happened in life.

“Hey, sweet girl,” you coo, reaching in to pick her up. Lavishing kisses all over her sweet face before carrying her into the kitchen for lunch. “Now, don’t you make a mess and be all cute with your crusty face today, okay?”

“‘Tay,” she giggles, leaning her head into your neck. She is one of the most precious babies you have ever met. She wasn’t quite a year old and she has this great personality. She says a slew of words, adding in dada and mama pointing and moving her eyebrows like she’s carrying on a real conversation.

“Oh, I know. You and daddy are best friends. And he is naughty and lets you sleep in the bed with him when you wake up crying, doesn’t he?” More giggles and nonsense, and you hand her the plate with her own spoon. You are supposed to let her feed herself first before you make sure she gets plenty of nutrition.

“Yep, you’re an independent lady, and you don’t need daddy to cater to you.”

“Yep,” she responds, shoving a handful of food into her mouth. You didn’t care if she got messy. Babies were supposed to get messy. That’s what bathtime was for. Or a quick rinse and pool time. “Uhh!” She gets excited, hearing the alert that someone is pulling into the property. “Dada!”

“I don’t think that’s him,” she couldn’t be swayed, and she has a chorus of ‘Dada’ ringing out into the kitchen. Cars coming in meant her daddy was coming and home to her, but a quick message from Tati this morning, you knew it was finally her return.

“Dadadadadadadadada!” She squeals all the way until Tati walks through the door, sweetly saying Poet’s name as she puts her luggage down. “Uhh,” clearly that isn’t who Poet wanted to see. And as Tati rounds the corner into the kitchen the baby’s frown deepens. Pouting up at you as her mom barely kisses her forehead.

Tati looks even more put together than you remember. She supposedly just returned home, and every bit of her is in place. Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect manicure, an outfit that clung to every curve. She even smells fresh and expensive. Obviously flying treated her better than it did you. You are nothing like Tati. You feel homely and plain next to her in her giant heels and long legs.

“Someone acts like she needs a nap with how mood she is, and…a bath. Darling, mommy is going to take a long nap. Grace, do you mind keeping her this evening? I don’t know Curtis’ plans, but I have dinner reservations that I can’t miss,” so much for wanting to spend time with her daughter. Already making plans to be with someone else. No, you can’t judge her. She didn’t want this life. But you wished she would stop hiding behind a facade of a happy family life.

“The place looks incredible. I knew you could keep it up to my standards. Poet, you look as if you’ve grown a few inches,” most parents would feel sad about their child growing, and missing it. She seems to just state the obvious. “How has everything been here?”

“It’s been great,” it was even hot when her husband was willing to fuck you in the pool.

“I hope her daddy has been hospitable to you,” yeah, he’s had his hard cock pressed against your core, while you could only think about his relationship with his wife. “Anyways, I think I’m going to go for a bath, and a nap. Carry on.”

“Tati, can I ask you a question without sounding too forward?” She sighs, but nods her head. Nervously looking at Poet, and you didn’t even want to talk about her daughter. You want to know more about her husband. “Umm, Curtis and you don’t share a room?”

“He snores, and I can’t sleep,” lies. He didn’t snore that much, and their rooms are on opposite sides of the giant house, and on different floors.

“It’s just he’s in a much smaller room beside Poet’s on the main floor.”

“Was he bothering you in the pool? I told him and his slutty…I mean, I might have mentioned that you were given free range of the pool, and he shouldn’t bother you. It’s fine. He’s just a much more hands-on parent than me. I can’t only parent how I was taught, and that was to continue living your life while you made sure your child had the best of everything including care. And I’m just not good at being a mother. I didn’t want this,” she stops her train of thought. Breathing deeply as she presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose. What started off as questions about Curtis became her ranting about how she parents.

“Parenting is complicated, and every parent is going to do things differently, and I’m not a bad mom. I’m not.”

“Oh, I didn’t — no, you have provided your daughter with a safe environment to grow and learn, and…I think I’m not making myself clear,” while it did bug you that Tati great Poet as an afterthought. But she did in fact make sure her daughter was taken care of. She just had no relationship with her.

“What is this about? It’s my slut husband, huh? Can’t keep it in his fucking pants. I knew it when I first saw you. I knew he was going to come onto you. So have you slept with him?” Oh this is turning the wrong way entirely. “Quite frankly, I don’t care. Curtis and I don’t have that sort of a relationship. But I don’t want you getting involved with a man that has no desire to be tied down,” oh dear.

She is saying the words you’ve been wanting, but also some you’ve feared. “Fine, seeing how Curtis clearly can’t stop from fucking everything with a goddamn pussy, no. We are married legally. We have no emotional ties to one another. Does that solve that? Fuck him, I don’t care. Just know that he’s not reliable. The only person he even cares about is his daughter. And whoever is getting on their goddamn knees.”

“He cares about you,” you say meekly. Curtis had never said anything horrible about Tati, and yet there is major animosity coming from her concerning him. Back to the theory she really disliked him for making her have Poet.

“Yes, cares about the fact that I was able to provide him with a child,” you gulp, turning to look at Poet who stares intensely at you. Like she is avoiding looking at her mother who is spewing vile nonsense about her dad. “This isn’t the most proper conversation to have with you. I apologize, I’m not myself, and I’m tired, it’s been a long day. I’ll need a vacation after my vacation,” you look up at her confused. It was allegedly a business trip. A nearly two week vacation, and she needs another.

“I’m,” she takes a deep breath, watching you and Poet stare at one another, and sighs, “He’s a great guy, but a terrible partner. I don’t need that, and I for damn sure don’t need a fucking man and his need to fucking poke me with their cock every goddamn night. If you excuse me. I need about a three hour nap, and then I’m going out. If you could please make sure she’s taken care of if Curtis isn’t home. You’ll be paid handsomely,” she spins on her heels, heading out of the kitchen, and you look down at the messy baby.

“That didn’t go that well, did it?” She offers you a bit of a smile, covering her face with her messy squished banana hands. “I guess that’s why she’s upstairs and we’re down here. She won’t be able to hear us have fun, huh? You want to get rinsed off, and go swimming?”

“Aye!” She throws her hands up in the air, and your weird interaction with her mother starts to move to the back of your mind instead of the front. Tati is a bit of a liar. She is holding Curtis’ life, and even Poet’s ransom. They couldn’t move forward because she is holding them back. Trapping them in this weird whatevership while she flies off for two week long vacations only to come back to leave again.

You could have left your questions about her relationship private, but at least you had some clarity on their situation from her point of view. They weren’t sleeping together. And it seemed she had no love for her husband. And you wondered if she did for her daughter.

Curtis casually watches you through his blinds. You had acted weird all afternoon, and that is saying a lot considering what had happened between the two of you. You were a bit standoffish. You didn’t make any comment about Tati asking you to watch Poet later than you normally would, and all as she left the house quickly.

He came home to find you and Poet in the sweetest baby yoga moment, and he wished that he was coming home to you and your daughter. Tati in all aspects was an egg donor, but this is what he wanted in life. To see his wife enjoy time with her children. Smiling sweetly in a pose before you help her do her own. He might have looked at your ass in those tight leggings a bit too long. Remembering the way your soft supple skin felt in his grip. Your ass was the perfect size for his hands.

There even was a bit of an argument as he tried to take Poet from you, but you resisted telling him that Tati had asked and she was your responsibility. He just wanted to be closer to you, but it threw him off the way you responded. You never were like that. He knew when he came home and Tati’s car was here that a conversation was had and he didn’t know what.

But now watching you jump into the pool, and come up to the surface, only to swim over to the edge and drink from a beer bottle, he's curious. He should leave you alone for the time being but he couldn’t. There is this weird pull towards you, especially now when he can see that something is wrong. You look distant. Your eyes stare blankly at the water before you lean you head back on the edge. Staring up at the night sky.

He didn’t even want to make an advance, but wants to see if you’re okay. He changes into some swimming trunks before grabbing the baby monitor and a towel as he walks outside. You bite at your lip with the sound of the door opening, but remain unmoving. Seeing how you don’t say anything, neither does he as he eases into the pool. It isn’t until he’s standing right in front of you that you acknowledge he’s there.

Lifting your head up off the edge, you reach behind you, and grab another beer, extending it to him. “You’ve been weird today.”

“Have I?” You answer curtly, grabbing your own beer to take a swig. “You want to tell me the truth between you and your wife, because she really seems to hate you.”

“I see. You talked about me today? Tati’s rendition was very glowing I bet. Someone who is scared of commitment. That I’m only using you for the cunt between your legs,” the fact he knew the basic parts of your conversation means that this has happened before. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not the one gallivanting all over the world with my girlfriend. Shit,” he whispers, realizing what he just announced. Everything makes sense now.

Your mouth opens wide as you stare at him before you place the bottle to your lips and start chugging. Of all the things he could have said, you weren’t exactly expecting that. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Finishing your beer, you contemplate grabbing another one, but instead try to think of something to say. “Girlfriend as in her best friend? Like they just do everything together?”

“No.”

“It’s complicated, huh? So, you’re married to a woman who is dating another woman, and doesn’t want to be a mother, but doesn’t want to admit to that. She’s holding you and Poet essentially hostage because she can’t tell her parents that she’s a lesbian. First it was she didn’t want them to know she was pregnant out of wedlock, but you wanted the baby, and now she’s…I’m just trying to wrap my brain around all this. She’s very angry at her situation.”

It’s Curtis’ turn to turn the beer completely up as he downs the hoppy liquid, and places it on the side of the pool before he grabs another. It is out there now, so there was no point in denying anything. “She’s angry because she’s living a lie.”

“She has more means than most people do. She’s rich, and a grown fucking adult. There’s kids who come out to their parents, and risk being kicked out. She’s a damn adult,” you’re seething. You didn’t care what Tati did with her life, but her life and lies are affecting two people she should love. Two that are stuck. Poet didn’t even seem to like her mom. Definitely didn’t have a loving relationship with her, and Curtis is allowing this to continue as well.

“You don’t understand,” he is really taking up for her. This horrible woman that has stunted his and his daughter’s lives.

“Then make me,” you plead. You need to understand, because you are getting too involved. “Do you want to know what she said about you?”

“I already know. She thinks I want to fuck every woman in my vicinity.”

“And do you?”

“Every?” He smirks at you. He takes a wet hand to run down his beard. Leaving it looking moist and dripping, and you get a flashback of his mouth shining with your slick. “No. Currently there’s only one woman in my vicinity I want to fuck.”

“So I’m just a hot piece of flesh that is living in your house while your wife is fucking around with her girlfriend is that it?”

“You’re mincing words here. No, you’re not just an amazing lay. I’ve only had you once, and yes, I would very much like to have you again. But I think whatever is going on between us is much more than fucking. I’m not hurt by Tati’s words anymore. She’s the type of woman that knows I will move on, and once I fully move on I won’t wait for her timeline anymore, so she strikes before that happens.”

These words. You aren’t sure what to make of them. He leans forward, slowly slotting his lips against yours. The sharpness of the beer dances around on your tongue as you taste it on him. Opening your mouth, you allow his access, and he eases past your lips. Tongues dancing together before you pull away from him.

It isn’t the beer that is making your brain fuzzy, but this situation. So many things are running in your head, but there’s one thing you can’t seem to forget, “And what about Poet?”

“What about her?”

“You both are taking away her happiness. Poet has bonded with me because she needs a motherly love. She doesn’t even know her mom as a mother, but as someone that floats in her life. In and out of her life. I’ve spent more time with her in the past few weeks than Tati ever has, and that’s sad. She doesn’t know that her daughter is speaking words, and crawls so fast I have to chase her around. She doesn’t know that Poet’s favorite food is green peas because she’s such a weird little baby. And she mushes those peas in between her fingers, and giggles before she gobbles them up.”

“But you know that,” Curtis’ beefy arm reaches behind you, grabbing another beer for himself before raising it to you, “This was smart, bringing the beer out here, I mean. Listen, Tati didn’t want to be a mom. So don’t try and make her feel guilty for not being one.”

“Then you need to stop making excuses for her. You need to tell her where you’re at and that you are done with being married to her, so you can move on, and…”

“Date you?” You exasperatedly roll your eyes, and turn to look away from him, but he pulls your chin over to look at him. “Darling, I’m okay with where I’m at, but if you need me to do this for you, and us, you have to let me know. Tati is doing things on her terms, but if you need me to tell her my terms, then you have to be honest with me.”

“I could always go on another date with…”

“Jax?” Your face falls and you look across his face confused. “That’s my partner. There’s a reason why you didn’t get a earth shattering first kiss,” mother fucker. “It was an honest mistake, and he didn’t realize who you were until you showed up, and then when he knew he just made sure you had a fun night.”

“How would he have known who I was?” Now it’s your turn to smirk as Curtis floats away from you. Pretending to be listening to the monitor that shows Poet softly snoring. “Oh, did you tell him about your hot nanny that you fucked?”

“In not so colorful of words, but yes. He knew not to — well.”

“Touch me? Curtis did you think fucking me that one time was you claiming me?” He gives an honest answer by nodding his head, and the serious conversation gets heavier. Breathy and light in a way, but there’s an undertone of need. The two of you are reaching a level of truce for now, but you need more.

“So is this you sneaking into the pool house with me?” He shakes his head no, putting a leg up, his foot presses against your belly. Stopping you from getting any closer to him. “Me sneaking into your room?” Another shaking of his head. And his leg holds you firmly in place. “Then what?”

“If all I wanted was sex, I could have had you so many times. This is me saying you live with my daughter. We have to tread through this very carefully. I don’t want too many feelings involved yet. And it can never be just sex can it? We live in the same house.”

“I actually live in the pool house.”

He takes a staggering breath, and you look down into the water with a big grin, “You have no idea what you do to me. Seeing you with my daughter in a mothering way. Seeing her smile at you, and hold onto you, greeting me at the door only to crawl back to you. I’m a sap for things like that, especially with Poet. If we do this it’s not just sex.”

“If we do this I’m not going to be the other woman.”

“Did you miss this entire conversation? You won’t be,” you have to set some boundaries here. If he wanted you, he could have you. While the divorce was underway. You start to back away from him with a smile, and he starts walking towards you, “Wait. Where are you going?”

“To play with myself while I remember our first night together.”

“What just happened?” Staring hungrily as you emerge from the pool, looking over your shoulders to make sure he was staring at your ass. He isn’t a disappointment, but then he looks up at your face. “Where are you going?”

“If you want more than sex, prove it. You’ve heard what I don’t want, and what I am okay with. And if you want just my body then you can bring the monitor and join me in the pool house. You’ll only get one choice, Curtis,” without even grabbing your towel, you saunter towards the pool house. Holding your breath, and hoping that he doesn’t follow you. Your words sound sure, but your legs quake in fear that he’s going to follow you. That kiss being sweeter touches you in a way you didn’t think could happen.

You hope with every part of you that he can hold off like he said, and is willing to tell Tati that the time has come for a divorce. You hope that he doesn’t disappoint you and is willing to just have sex for tonight. You want Curtis, and you want more than just his cock. The close proximity to him and playing house with him was becoming infuriating.

And before you even reach the pool house you hear the door to his bedroom close with so much force you flinch, turning around to see him place a pillow over his face, and know that he is screaming. Good. You weren’t going to be the other woman. Regardless of if the relationship between him and Tati had run its course. You were going to be the woman. The only woman. So until he made that decision, you were going to be the nanny. For now.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @slowdownbeforeyouregretit @rogersbarber @evelineangel66

[temis-de-leon]

Day 20 - Kiss on the hand

Characters: Satan x gn!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: emotional intelligence chases Satan, but he's way too fast. Sudden and kind of inappropriate discussion of marriage, established relationship, Satan implied to be taller

A/N: I think this is ooc, but my brain decided to ✨stop✨, so here it is. I still like it, tho

.

“Is everything okay?”

“Hm?”

MC usually liked when Satan fixed his eyes on them. His stare almost had an academic feeling to it, like he was actually observing and trying to answer questions only he knew, but MC never found themselves being scrutinized. He still looked at them with care and fascination and the glint his eyes wore whenever they shared a moment of comfortable silence reminded them of the human sea and the sunrays bouncing on the water surface.

It was a feeling of being home that only he could bring and MC was far too happy indulging in it.

But this time was different.

He was blushing, distracted by a thought in his mind that, judging by his face, was a rather embarrassing one. He mumbled, shook his head and blushed even more. Was he… arguing with himself?

They had to admit, Satan had been acting strange the whole night. Keeping them close, but not engaging in conversation, holding their chin and staring at their lips, but not kissing them. Showing off their relationship before his peers, flaunting MC’s accomplishments with pride without looking at them.

It wasn’t anger, no, Mc would’ve known had that been the case.

Satan was embarrassed about something. Something involving them.

But what?

“What do you mean?” he asked, interrupting their thoughts.

A horrible liar, he was, cheeks tainted in a deep red and voice strained.

“You haven’t looked at me for hours and now you can’t stop staring”

“Why, can’t I appreciate my partner’s beauty?”

A faint flash of aggravation crossed his features and MC was quick to smile and cup his face.

“Something’s been on your mind” they said gently, enjoying the softness of his skin “What is it?”

The song suddenly changed to an ever slower one and he made sure to discretely move them to the farthest corner of the venue. The bride and the groom, both friends of Satan, walked to the centre of the dancefloor amongst cheers and applauses, the very few lights of the room soon focusing on the newlywed couple and leaving the guests surrounded by darkness. Even though it was a warm summer night, MC hugged Satan’s waist and swayed to the music, smiling when he brought them closer and rested his cheek on their head.

“So?”

MC felt him sigh against their chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I haven’t forgot. It’s just… them”

He slightly turned his face, probably looking at his friends, and MC felt their heart give a violent jump. What was he actually talking about?

“Relax, MC” he said when he senses their tensed body, but that didn’t calm their nerves. Their fingers were tingling, cold sweat running down their back and the uneasiness making them tremble.

Please, please, tell them Satan wasn’t going to propose to them during his friends’ wedding.

“I hope your reaction doesn’t mean you reject the idea of marrying me”

They moved away just enough to be able to look at each other, his breath still reaching them. It had a faint smell of alcohol and MC deeply hoped his words weren’t being fuelled by the influence, though he’d been acting weird since the beginning of the night, before they started drinking.

His apprehensive gaze reminded them he had implied a very important question.

“This is the first time you’ve even mentioned marriage” they said, immediately clarifying themselves to not give the wrong impression “Not that I’m saying no, but this is… this is something!”

Despite talking in whispers, the sincerity and borderline ridiculousness of the conversation brought the attention of a couple of guests. Thankfully, it wasn’t enough to catch the wedding party’s eye, but MC still looked at their boyfriend in panic.

“Yes, I agree, this isn’t the best moment, but I couldn’t get it out of my head”

The seriousness in his voice dried MC’s mouth. They wanted to be mad at him for bringing up such a serious topic in the worst possible scenario, but a part of them jumped in joy at the prospect of being with him forever. Of an official paper signed by Lord Diavolo making it clear to the rest of the world.

“Forgive me, MC, I shouldn’t have talked about it here and now”

He sighed once more, lifting their hand to his lips and kissing the back softly. His eyes stopped at their ring finger for a brief moment and MC’s breath hitched once more.

They didn’t talk much more for the rest of the party, too tired from all the dancing and the socializing and the discussing about potentially spending the rest of their lives together.

But they held each other and they kissed each other and, once they finally got home, they sat down on his bed and talked, not stopping until both of their faces hurt from smiling.

.

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Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @craftysclown @mehkers

[kanbockoida]

Third time’s the charm.

Adam x fem!Reader x Lucifer

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Masterlist

The warm atmosphere was long gone, replaced with something cold. Lucifer’s expression was one of sadness and guilt, feeling as if he was the reason the woman spiraled into a feeling of having been betrayed. Yet he didn’t know why he even told her about this entire thing. It was clear to him that this woman hated exterminations altogether, and the fact that her own husband didn’t tell her anything about moving them up six months early.

”Do you.. need fresh air? We could step outside if you’d like?” The Morningstar questioned, wanting to provide her comfort. The angel looked at the Fallen One, hands clammy and shaking with sorrow and panic.

Deep breath in, and deep breath out. Considering they were in hell, the concept of fresh air made her giggle, even if it seemed strained. “Does that even exist?” Her attempt at a joke was poor, but Lucifer didn’t seem to care as he sent her a tiny yet worried smile. It was silent for a moment, the distressed woman seemingly considering the offer, but she came to the conclusion that it might not be a good idea. “An angel walking around the streets of hell? That is a big target on my back there!” Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down somehow.

Lucifer had already taken notice of her behavior. He felt sorry for her. He felt for her.. with her. It was such a weird feeling, a feeling he had to suppress for now.

“My daughter.. she’d know how to help.” Lucifer thought out loud. He might not talk to his daughter often, but he is aware that she’s a good person. Hearing the Morningstar talk about his daughter piqued her interest, a tiny smile dancing on her lips. “You have a daughter?” Y/N questioned him, seemingly trying to strike up a friendly conversation.

And just like that, they clicked. How can someone, especially one who is known as the sin of pride, not talk about someone he’s proud of. “I do! Charlotte. Well, she prefers to be called Charlie. She is my pride and joy, I’d do anything to keep her safe.” The words just rolled out of his mouth without much hesitation, his eyes practically glistening with adoration. He went on and on, telling the third about his beloved daughter. Fun stories, silly stories, cute stories.. all of what he could possibly think of. Y/N had the time of her life listening to him go on and on.

Lucifer went on about his daughter, spilling everything he could think of. From Charlie’s idea of redeeming sinners, to stories where he created a little rubber duck army for her when she was a toddler. “Why ducks specifically?” Y/N seemed genuinely curious, a twinkle in her eyes indicating such. She loved all animals, birds just hold a special little place in her heart. “I’m so glad you asked. Ducks are amazing animals!” At the simple mention of the feathery buddies, Lucifer lit up with the purest form of adoration. “And rubber ducks? You can do anything you want with them, let your creativity flow. Ever heard of the magic-tastical backflipping rubber duck that spits fire?”

Y/N’s eyes couldn’t possibly widen more, but they did. Slamming her hands on the table, she let out an excited scream. “Shut up! That is so cool! What about a rubber duck with six wings?!” It was at that moment that Lucifer and Y/N had found something they had in common. A small list that was only meant to expand.

For hours all they did was talk, exchange stories about what they loved doing. It led to them having a true time of bonding by doing nothing. “What’s it like? You know.. creating something? Having the power to create what your heart desires?” Curiosity always got the best of her, especially when her interest was at an all-time high. A wistful smile formed across Lucifer’s lips, bittersweet memories clouding his mind at this one little question. “It’s fulfilling, that’s for sure. There are no limits to your dreams.. If you want to do something, you just do it. You want to make a six winged rubber duck? You can. Breakfast in bed but too lazy to get up? Not a problem.” It almost seemed as if Lucifer found part of his spark that day. He was and still is a dreamer with so many ideas.

Just for a few more moments their comfortable atmosphere surrounded them, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. This whole ‘meeting’ consisted of them talking and bonding, it was bound to come to an end sooner or later. Looking at the time, Y/N let out a soft sigh which was followed by a tiny pout. “It’s getting rather late.. I should probably get going soon. I’ve had.. a lot of fun talking to you, Lucifer. I hope I’ll.. get to see you again?” Her smile was angelic as she looked at him, eyes softening more than they already had been.

Reality set in rather quickly for the pair, leading them to quiet up for a moment. It wasn’t usual for either of them to get along with someone so quickly. For Y/N, making friends in heaven was difficult considering her position along with being married to Adam, so this? This was nice. No condescending tones, no side eyes. Just relishing in the moment. It was nice to have someone to talk to, someone she could lend an ear to.

”I’ve had a great time with you as well, Y/N. I do hope I get to see you again soon! Please, stay safe up there?” Lucifer pleaded, a grin so gentle it was barely noticeable stretching across his lips once more. This day was the day he had smiled the most compared to the past decades.

Nothing ever lasts forever, which was why he was just a little scared. The past years have not been kind to him, so meeting someone as kind hearted as the angel before him was a blessing indeed. The Morningstar didn’t have many friends, if any at all, so having Y/N was such a nice and fulfilling feeling. Sure, he had his daughter.. but Charlie has a girlfriend and she has a hotel to run. There was little to no time for him.. and he can’t depend on his daughter forever. Having Y/N was.. a nice feeling indeed.

“I’ll stay safe if you promise to do the same, alright?”

“I never break my promises.”

A promise was made that night. A promise the two secretly swore to never break.

Y/N and Lucifer bid their goodbyes before departing to their homes through two separate portals. Neither of them knew they already missed each other’s company.

Later that night, the woman had decided to finally return to her husband. She could feel how miserable he was, yet that misery had turned into anger, then back to despair not too long ago. Upon entering her home, she was met with her husband lazily lounging on the couch. She probably wasn’t quiet when she entered the house, since Adam’s head immediately shot up upon her arrival. “Flower..? You’re back!” Standing up, Adam instantly stumbled over to his wife, gathering his emotions as well as he possibly could. Y/N only let out a sigh, the words her husband had said to her not once leaving her thoughts, as well as the information she had gotten from Lucifer prior. Maybe it was a mistake coming back?

”I.. couldn’t leave you for long. That aside, we need to have a talk.” Her voice was cold as ice, words cutting through the air like shards that could cut through even the toughest of materials. The married couple took a seat in the living room, Y/N’s expression almost a void of emotion. “What happened to ‘I’ll always tell you everything’, Adam? Moving up the extermination? Why would you do that?!” By the look on her partner’s face, he clearly wasn’t expecting this. Letting his ego take the wheel, Adam scoffed, leaning onto the couch in a lazy and comfortable manner. “Babe, what’s the big deal? So what if the extermination is six months earlier? They’re sinners. They don’t deserve a second chance. Besides, how do you even know? Did Sera tell you?”

At this very moment, the wife almost lost her cool. Sera knew? Was this her doing, after all? How dare he say such a thing? Especially when there is someone actively trying to redeem sinners? She couldn’t understand him or his logic. “What about you? You got a second chance at love. Two second chances, actually. If you deserve a second chance, I think others do too, especially when they try to better themselves!”

Her words struck something inside him. Something that made him react almost defensively. Adam still hasn’t gotten over the past. He promised. He promised he would talk to her if his thoughts were getting the better of him when they had their first ever argument.

”I’m the first fucking man, of course I deserve more chances. It’s not my fault that my exes left me for another man! They’re sinners. Those cunts are in hell for a reason, babe. They don’t belong up here. Now be a good little wife and stay by my side, got it?” By the sound of his voice, Adam tried to make himself seem strong by any means necessary. Afraid. The first man was afraid of what the future holds and he is withholding this from his beloved. He didn’t want to talk about it, feeling as if it was pointless anyway.

Since Adam didn’t want to speak up about his emotions and actively suppressed them, not even Y/N could feel the fear and pain in Adam’s heart. So how was she supposed to know what’s happening in his mind? “Do not dare to talk to me that way, Adam. You’re my husband and I love you with all my heart, but I will not tolerate you talking to me this way. Just because you’re the first man doesn’t mean you get to do whatever!”

Scoffing, Adam stood up straight, his wings ruffling in irritation at her words. He was so sick of hearing them, thinking that redemption is nothing but a waste of time. “I’m going to say whatever the fuck I want, got it? You’re my wife, and I love you, but you don’t know the complete story.”

That itself was a lie. Adam had opened up about everything during the time they were married. Y/N was aware of everything, so why was he deflecting?

”Sugar, please talk to me.. You’re never like this.” Her words got cut off immediately by Adam’s sudden snap, his usual gentle eyes blown wide with fury and something she couldn’t quite decipher.

”Shut up! Don’t try to force something out of me that isn’t there! The extermination is in six months and I want you as far away from it as possible. I don’t want you to go to your job during it. Anything else is not up for debate.”

Storming off, Adam simply slammed the bedroom door behind him like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Y/N was conflicted, to say the least. Why was her beloved husband suddenly acting like an overgrown manchild? Where was her gentle giant that would cling onto her while she cooked? Where was her darling husband that would hold her hand even while watching movies? The man she once loved was nothing but a shell of himself. Once confident and full of warmth, now distant and almost irritable.

Her heart ached at the realization. Adam, her Adam.. his once gentle nature had hardened, leaving behind a stranger she failed to recognize.

She just stood there, completely gobsmacked by this entire situation, letting his words slowly sink in. Her entire mood had been ruined by this entire interaction. “What is happening..?”

[these-godforsaken-halls]

They fall back into silence, and this one lasts longer than the others had. Mumbo is starting to feel miffed, himself, the more he thinks on it. The more he focuses on the pit in his stomach, and the two years of radio silence, and everything that used to be normal and isn’t anymore. 

Grian disappeared on him.

“I’m sorry,” Grian says finally, and he sounds genuine enough that Mumbo’s shoulders relax. Against his will. All the miffed-ness seeps right out of him and into the ground, gone forever. It is inconvenient, because Mumbo was planning on staying miffed, but he has known for awhile now that Grian can do this to him whenever he wants just by sounding a little bit sad. He has (mostly) made his peace with it. “It was weird. I've been weird. Sorry.”

“...it’s alright, G,” he finds himself saying, sighing a little. He wants to say more. He tries to gather his thoughts, and a little bit of courage too, and he continues, “I love you, mate, that’s why I don’t like it when you — when you get weird like that, when you pull away. We were having a nice conversation. We could just go back to that, why don’t we go back to that?” Why do you keep dragging us away from nice conversations, he wants to ask, why do you shut down, why do you say those things but never really talk to me?

Another long pause, and Mumbo reminds himself to be patient, though his leg has started an anxious wobble. “You… what?” Grian asks, and gods above, his voice is watery . Mumbo’s stomach drops.

“I —” he’s already stumbling over his words, great. “I don’t like it when you get — ? Oh. Oh, you mean the other thing. The I love you thing. I’m — I mean. Should I not have said that?” Right, he is sweating now. Properly sweating. His head hurts and he thinks it’s the emotional whiplash. Because that’s what this conversation has given him. Emotional whiplash. 

“I just thought — well, you know, we’ve been friends a long time. Good friends, really good friends. You’re my best friend, actually. Now that I think about it. Certainly haven’t got one better. Not that I’m ranking you, oh dear, don’t go telling people that I’m ranking my friends, just — best friends? That’s something normally people say, isn’t it? It isn’t weird? So I love you. Ah. I’ve said it again. I can take it back if — do you want me to take it back?”

(Please don’t ask him to take it back. He does not want to take it back.

He doesn’t — he doesn’t want the version of Grian who makes him take it back. That sounds bad, doesn’t it? He doesn’t mean it that way. He wants Grian , whatever Grian might be like, and it’s not like he’s ever abandoning this friendship for anything, but he has known this version of Grian: the one who vies and vies for attention but scrambles back the moment it’s given, the Grian who loves to be noticed but hates to be seen, who’s a lot less careful with the hearts in his hands, who’s a little bit more mean. There was a Grian who would have died before admitting that he cared about something or someone, anything or anyone — who’d shrug off praise for builds he’d poured months into, desperately pretending that it didn’t make him glow. 

Eventually Mumbo got to have a happier Grian, a bright and open and honest Grian. That Grian disappeared, and in moments like these, Mumbo feels like he didn’t come back.)

“No,” Grian says, and Mumbo accidentally sighs out loud with relief. “No, you don’t have to take it back. You dork. No. It’s okay. I — me too. I mean. Yeah. Me too.”

They sit with these three words between them (two in Grian’s case, but yes, Mumbo does know what he means) for several uncomfortable seconds.

Where did you go, Mumbo is thinking, and his chest aches with it — where did you go, and what did it do to you?

...

from quality entertainment, chapter 3 (ao3)

watcher grian! waffle duo agony!! huzzah

[sleepy-crypt1d]

i cannot be listening to hozier and thinking about handsome jack it is barely 10am

[milo-is-rambling]

I forget how much I hate the taste of vodka but the whipped cream vodka is so much better my god

[toyfrogs]

help 😀

[strwbrymlkshake]

so upset and disgusted my stomach hurty </3

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

[melzula]

well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?

zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?

i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂

a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!

summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends

“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”

“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.

“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.

Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.

“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.

You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.

“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”

“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”

“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”

“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.

“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.

“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.

“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.

“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”

“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”

After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.

“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.

“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”

“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.

You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.

| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21

[moechies]

eeee but ok what about a make out sesh with sugu that ends with him begging to finger you >.<

౨ৎ ⋆ please?! ꨄ geto suguru

sypnosis: inexperienced college students you ‘nd suguru with a mischievous pact

content warnings 𝜚 𓈒 vunerable virgin reader, no p in v, soft, messy, fingering, making out, praiseee, he cums from rubbin himself, light oral (f rec.), pet names : baby, honey doll !! !

an ♡ . . this ask omg anon u are genius . dis is absolutely so cute and ugggghhhhhh m melting <3 literally love u . i love dis ask a lot so this is a bit longer than my usual drabbles , so im makin it a fic :D enjoyyyyyy loviessss

it’s hot , sloppy , messy.

bodies pressed against each others as your guy’s lips clash feverently against each others , sloppy noises elicited from you two’s ‘practice.’

it was never supposed to go so far. it started from something so innocent yet so dirty , the two of you prompting to practice making out with eachother; every friday and saturday night in the comfort of his private dorm.

nights usually started off awkward, with you at the front of his doorstep nervously knocking at his door. he was intimidating, tall, and so handsome; everything you’d consider perfect. it made you want to shrivel and hide.

your first couple sessions consisted of awkward touches, usually his fingers hovering above your warm skin with a light shiver , staring into you for any affirmation to touch you.

“is it okay? ‘m not gonna do anythin’ weird.”

making out with him was sloppy and messy, rhythmless and random. neither of you would stop the other unless one had run out of breath , but that was the fun of it; you suppose.

“d-do you wanna keep goin’?” he pants, face awfully close to yours, not sparing another breath when you mindlessly nod. in a blink, his swollen lips are clad against yours once again.

this time , it had been no different. it had been 3 weeks after your set arrangements , and nothing had seemingly been different.

right ?

so why did it feel so much more intimate ? you try to speculate , but the man’s mouth occupies all of you. geto makes you feel so fuzzy, your body, your mind, incapable of a single coherent thought in the heat of the moment.

he wastes no time pressing your body into the soft of the mattress with his own, hand pursed into the soft pillow with intertwined fingers.

you gasp into his mouth , waiting for the moment he allows you time for a quick breather, but it never comes. instead he refuses to detach himself from you as you grow lightheaded.

“s-suguru hah— ,what’s wrong with you?”

“baby , i need y’so bad. i cant . . ”

your brow arches in confusion , but all becoming much clearer when you feel his frigid fingers dance on the band of your skimpy shorts.

“w-wait—“

”y’gonna let me touch you here?” he teases, his thumb pressing up on your clit through your shorts, right above the wet patch of your sticky cum.

“eeek — hold on, sugu !”

“please ? let me finger you baby . w’na make you feel good s’bad.”

you whimper at his offer, overwhelmed by the suddenness of his question. it had never gone this far, you had never expected it to. to say that you hoped it would happen was an understatement; you dreamt of this. truly.

his soft hands run over your soft skin, chubby lips pressing breathy kisses all over your face and neck, and overly desperate bulge lazily humping into the fat of your panty-clad pussy. it’s all too much.

“let me feel you , honey, c’mon.” he rushes, smirking into your skin with a soft kiss to your collarbone.

“o-okay, suguru !” you blurt .

he’s sighs in relief, hands wasting no time to tug off your shorts along side your panties. your sweet cunt radiates a soft heat he’s able to feel against the palm of his hand, chuckling as he watches your cunt pulse around nothing.

he’s obsessed, and he thinks it may be love . he finds himself unable to pull his eyes away from the gorgeous sight, pupils in the shape of hearts as he watches your puffy hole uncontrollably drool with pearlescent slick.

“s-stop starin’ sugu—“ you mumble, quickly bringing a hand down to cover yourself from his roaming eyes. you’re quickly stopped by his hand, never holding a chance in the first place.

“you’ve never done this before ?”

“obviously not! “ your eyes are shut tight, tears pricking at the corners and damping your lashes. you’re obviously embarrassed, and he wouldn’t have you any other way. this is perfect.

he says nothing but chuckles, flinching when you unexpectedly feel his lips against yours, one that slowly converts into something much more sensual.

you feel the pad of his thumb slide against your sticky cunt, merely pressing the tip inside to tease you. he swallows up your yelp, feeling him smile against your lips.

his pushes in half a digit, followed with short but rhythmic pumps. your cunt squelches and squeezes around him, allowing sweet honeyed moans to fall upon your lips.

“y’feel so good, feels so good doll. can’t believe y-you’ve been hidin’ this from me.” he groans.

“you’re so evil baby .”

“ff-feels s’good too, hnn—“

he curls his finger, purposely nudging against your spongy walls. you squeak, pressing against his wrists to rid his movements on your sensitive pussy.

“n-not there !”

“be still baby. let me have this, ‘s my first time too, okay?”

“w-wait—“

he kisses you again, silencing your whines. he gains speed in his movements , his free hand coming down to relief some tension for his own cock, which had been painfully strained against his boxers.

he’s sure you see him do the filthy act when your face flushes , eyes unable to meet his own as you can’t help but stare, trying your best to look away.

“y’r still so shy when my finger’s inside this pussy?”

“d-don’t say that !”

you whine. your back arches when he slips another finger in besides his first , the girth and length of both digits filling you like no other could. you’d imagine what his cock would feel like in comparison to this, but you can’t.

“d-dizzy, suguru— ‘m gonna cum, i— can’t !”

“cum doll, please, cum f’me, need it so bad..” he whines, feverently jerking at his cock as his eyes zero in on your lewd expression.

he pants with relief when he feels your cunt convulse around his slim digits, a sticky, creamy essence that coats his fingers. he pulls himself away from the mess, smearing a bit on the soft of your thigh before pressing a unmatched kiss onto your lips.

your mess coats the fat folds of your cunt, sweet pearly clit puffy and swollen, just oh, so desperate to be loved. he can tell. he leans down in between your legs before you take notice, pressing a harsh kiss against your slippery bud. one hard enough that you’re unable to push his head away with all your might, forced to lay still below him as he gently suckles on your clit and sneakily licks at your creamy mess.

he raises his head with a proud snarky grin, only to be met with a flick on the forehead and a light scolding.

he sighs, squirming uncomfortably at the noted mess in his boxers. not a word is exchanged between the two of you, only light pants that reverberate around the small of his dorm room.

“w-wanna go further ?”

[marycorcaroli]

first sex with zoro or sanji?

headcanons ; 18+.

rules ; masterlist.

i had a request for "first sex with zoro" but i decided to add sanji as well, hope no one minds ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes.

sanji.

— the first time you have sex with sanji is like something tender and beautiful. his long fingers move over your body, sending shivers down your spine, and sanji loves it. he loves that you let him spoil you and not give anyone else the opportunity.

— he'll probably go crazy when he sees you completely naked. he'll spend several minutes looking at all your curves and admiring you.

— sanji will start with endless compliments to warm you up "you're so beautiful", "what did I do to deserve you?", "you're too beautiful for humans", "wow, you're already wet and we're just getting started, do you want my cock so bad?" i already told you he's shameless.

— will leave hickeys all over your body and afterwards, make sure to kiss each one so you don't forget his tender side.

— will lick you for hours before fucking everything out of you.

— just licking you will bring you to euphoric orgasms that make your legs shake, your brain stop functioning and your mouth can't produce anything, but sobs and pleas for more. sanji isn't rough, he wants you to feel all the pleasure possible and realize what it's really like.

— will kiss you while his fingers play with your swollen clit (he still didn't have enough he left you a total mess), his lips bite yours but at the same time he is so gentle and afraid that you won't like something.

— your comfort is important to him so don't be afraid to tell him if you're in pain or if you want him to be more gentle. sanji will do anything for you ! because he loves you to no end and he's afraid to hurt you.

— i bet he gets turned on by kissing you and can't stop.

— sanji will kiss you to hear you moaning into his mouth and sobbing. that way he will know that you like it and you are not afraid anymore.

— i don't think he'll want to hold your wrists, sanji thinks that way he'll completely limit your actions, and he likes it when you touch him ! !

— the first time he has sex, it's the missionary position! it's the best for him where he can look into your eyes and kiss your face ! ! my boy is so perfect.

— his pace is not the fastest, it's medium, it's your first time, even if he likes rough sex, pain, blindfold and restriction, he won't do those things, it's all for your comfort. sanji will be the most loving 🥺 he will start with slow thrusts so you get used to his length and don't feel pain.

— HE HAS SUCH A BIG DICK 😩 i know that for a fact ! ! sanji knows how to handle it and feeling it with his hand on your belly, god is he in heaven????

— will snuggle up to you all the time, most likely your whole neck will be in his drool for he keeps bumping his face into it.

— with your permission, will cum in you so that your cum will be fused into one ( it sounds so weird ) but if you are against it, cum on your stomach is just as good.

— aftercare ! ! will wash you in the cutest way, whispering compliments that make you red as a tomato in your ear while sanji kisses your cheeks <> bring you water, food or turn on your favorite show, watch until you fall asleep at his side, then turn off tv, hug you tight and kiss your temple, thinking about how wonderful you are and that he would do anything for you.

zoro.

— the most beautiful boy in the world ! !

— even if he looks tough, his heart is made of tenderness and love for you.

— he doesn't really need sex with you, you love and support each other, so zoro is more of a platonic relationship.

— but when it comes to sex he wants everything to be perfect. he will spend the whole day with you and show you the most beautiful places he associates with you.

— he will give you the most magnificent kisses that will show all his love for you, his hands will wrap around your whole body and press you tighter against him so that you can feel his heartbeat (it is accelerated because of you).

— he will gently undress you and keep looking at your eyes to make sure you want it.

— he is so happy : ( you trust him so much that you want to be close to him in this way. zoro will give you the most wonderful pleasure ! !

— completely undressing you, running his fingers over your body, over your scars or tattoos, leaving the wettest kisses on them.

— kisses ! ! it's important for zoro to kiss you during sex, so the intimacy between you increases.

— he will lick you till the last to make you ready for him. he has such an experienced tongue and your cunnie is so sweet, he can't hold back anymore 😩 he will bring you to squirt and then start working his fingers to see the show again.

— his pleasure is not so important to him, yours is much more important and he will do anything for it.

— he'll leave your clit swollen and kiss it in the most tender way <> and he won't mind leaving hickeys on your thighs and biting them a little. zoro is crazy about your thighs ! !

— before entering you he will say the most beautiful words of love to you "thank you for trusting me, i will do everything to make you feel great, i promise i will love you till my last breath and after that".

— like sanji, zoro's ideal position is missionary, where he can see all your emotions and can kiss your whole face.

— his pace is very smooth, he does not like sudden movements or too rough sex, he is a real romantic.

— sex with him will be long and pleasant, he is in no hurry and wants to remember this moment forever, which they will do.

— he doesn't care where to cum, he doesn't really want to make a mess, but if you ask him to, he will cum on your thighs or in you (he dreams about it).

— he will change your sheets and wash with you, telling you how good you are for him. he will bring you water or food and then fall asleep on your breasts while your fingers massage his head.

[mcdynamite]

Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.

It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.

Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.

They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.

The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.

Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.

"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."

Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.

"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"

Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?

"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"

Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."

And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"

The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.

"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?" 

And Steve's eyes fly open.

Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.

It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.

Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...

It's longing.

"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."

"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"

"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."

Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.

"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."

Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"

Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."

Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.

"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.

Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"

Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-

Oh.

That's what Steve wants, isn't it?

"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.

"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.

He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."

Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...

Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.

They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.

This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.

Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.

This isn't just anyone.

This is Eddie.

And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.

He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.

He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs. 

"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.

And Eddie is wiping away his tears.

"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.

Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.

Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."

Steve's breath hitches.

"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."

He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."

"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.

He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.

What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.

"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."

His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.

It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...

His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.

"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.

Steve is helpless but to obey.

Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.

"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."

The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.

"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.

"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"

Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.

"Just want you," he says.

Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.

"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.

"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."

"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."

Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.

Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.

"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.

Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.

Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.

Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.

"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.

Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.

"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."

And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.

So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.

He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.

Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.

When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.

When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.

He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.

And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.

Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.

"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.

Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.

He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.

And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it. 

Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.

And Eddie?

Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.

It’s perfect.

It’s earth-shattering.

It’s everything.

--

Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!

For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!

[ajortga]

can you keep a secret?

pairing: wednesday addams x fem reader

summary: you miss your girlfriend who's recently transferred to nevermore academy. your persistent whining is able to transfer you to nevermore and cling onto her the whole time there.

word count: 5k+

based off request!

-

W and R are in a relationship, W transfers to Nevermore. W and R may not have anything in common, but they do on some things, like R being an outcast as well (a werewolf ), R insists their parents that they transfer to Nevermore too. After they successfully did, R immediately finds W, the outcast's curious to what'll happen to R (obvi doesn't know they knew each other).. Basically every student in Nevermore sees them together everyday. One, asks W who R is to W, she answers truthfully, "They're My Lover." everything and everyone just goes crazy

-

“Cara mia, we live next to each other,” Wednesday says softly, brushing your hair back as you braid her black silky hair.

You hum, a little sad, finishing to braid her two tiny braids that hung low to her chest.

“But I won’t see you in school, baby." A huff escapes your lips as your girlfriend sighs, giving up on trying to coax your madness.

“Or at all,” you add, “you’ll have a damn dorm with some girl that you’ve never seen before. It’s not fair.”

The raven-haired girl rolls her eyes, “I’ll cut off my heart with the sharpest knife I know if I ever started to love someone more than you,” Wednesday suggests, trying to make you feel better.

She cups your cheeks as you refuse to speak and rubs her thumb gently around the pink tint covering them. A way to always make you feel better. Yet she knows better because you certainly don’t look better.

“We’re both outcasts Weds. My stupid parents just won’t allow me to transfer because they think Nevermore is weird. Yet they went to school there. That's not fair."

“They’re just trying to protect you. I'd feel that way too for our daughter if Nevermore had hurt me. If someone ever hurt you, they’re death will be a long one. Sufferable and miserable. So bad that they’ll beg for forgiveness before they bleed out.”

Usually Wednesday would expect you to smile and giggle, but you’re not. Why does your girlfriend have to leave you?

“Can’t you stay?” You ask, voice tiny.

“As much as I sneak out, Mother has already informed everyone including your parents not to let me stay the night. They are used to my.. Tactics per say.”

Your sharp nails from your growth as a soon to be wolfed out werewolf emerges, clawing the wood you attached to your wall when this kind of stuff happens.

"I can sneak you in and I'll even build you a door in my closet," you suggest.

"No, Y/N."

"What if we install a life-like robot and I'll sneak out with you?"

"No."

You huff angrily, slashing the wood.

Wednesday firmly takes your hand, and your hand almost scratches her, yet it stops as you don’t want to hurt her, “Stop that.”

“No,” you state, tugging your hand away and sinking them into the wood, so hard that a big ass dent forms.

Your girlfriend sighs, rolling her eyes as she sweeps her bangs away from her eyes, “I don’t know what you want me to do bambina. Maybe I could.. Sneak you away from this horrid place. But at what cost? Nevermore seems strange. Not strange in a way I’d want to discover in mysteries though.”

She sees the way you sigh, disappointed. Upset.

“You’ll be there for a whole school year, it’s far.”

“I’ll bring my typewriter. Distance won’t change that, swear on my cemetery. I’ll write you letters at night, secretly take the principal's mailbox and send them to you. Or I’ll threaten Thing in my backpack and crawl till he can give it to you.” Wednesday isn’t kidding, her stare is cold, well usually it was cold, but not towards you. “He can suffer in thorns, I’ll stitch him up, just as long as.. You’ll write back?”

You nod, yet you don’t care about the letters, you care about her.

“You’ll send them?”

“Yes.”

“Every night?”

“Yes.”

“What if you begin to stop when you feel like it’s not working anymore?”

“I won’t Y/N.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

"No you don't, you don't know the future."

"But I do know that I won't stop sending my letters. I can feel it."

You stop scratching the wood and you bury yourself on Wednesday, breathing in her scent as you try to comfort yourself. Yet even when the lights are off, your heart is pounding, feeling alone.

-

A tear falls from your cheek as you watch Lurch stuff his trunk, Wednesday talking to her mother and father, while hesitantly hugging Pugsley. 

“You’ll have so much fun.” Morticia says, with a smile, kissing her cheek and staining it slightly with her black lipstick.

“Define fun as boring and a punishment, sure,” Wednesday stiffly responds, yet softens as she looks at you. She takes her mother’s hand off her shoulder and approaches you.

“If you cry, it'll be raining all day. And you don't want it to be all gloomy for you? I don't want my socks wet. A poem, along with two pages written in a small font. One to express my day, and one to express that stupid love so you can sleep peacefully at night with nightmares.” Wednesday says, stopping for a moment, “sweet nightmares,” she adds.

You nod, yet your tear stained cheeks aren’t really helping, she reaches up and wipes it off with her thumb. Then let you hug her, you immediately bury yourself into her and she sighs.

“I’ll be thinking of you, till every grain of sand can be counted.”

You watch her approach the car, then slip in. She has the window scroll down, and you look at her. As the car engine roars, you bite your lip. And slowly watch it wheel away. Slowly jogging till it’s out of sight.

-

It’s been two weeks. And sure enough, Wednesday has kept her promise. She’s sent you letters you’ve kept in your drawer, they’re never repetitive, but always show you love. You like it like that, knowing that it isn’t a chore for her to write letters for you. If anything, they’ve lengthened in size as she's sent more and more.

It makes you miss her a little more. You have to hug your life-sized stuffed animal at night that she sprayed her perfume on. She also left half a bottle on your counter, just in case it runs out. Though it takes longer to sleep, it makes you feel a little better knowing there was something that was like a piece of her beside you.

Thing has visited you, and you know that little guy has a huge memory. You lost the letter you were going to hand Thing, and though you were a little sad, he moved his fingers and you realized you could speak to him for hours and he would tell Wednesday every detail. She had even wrote to you,

~

I owe Thing a thank you, yet he can be provoking at times. He had communicated to me for an hour, thirty minutes, and thirty two seconds about your day. I always wonder what secrets lay in the Addams Family. Yet I’m not quite comprehending why Thing has a big memory space.

Nonetheless, I think about you everyday. My roommate, Enid, has been unpleasant with her interesting taste of fashion and colors. It’s distracting. In a negative way. You’re distracting in a way where I can’t take my eyes off your enticing figure Y/N. Weems had bothered me the whole day, smothered me with questions and made sure I was doing fine. No wonder why mother got along with her so much. Those two are like the same person just one with smothered ink. But, something that sparked my particular interest was that you can dorm with two other people. Thing had told me that there was an accident at your school. If you’d like, which I’d appreciate, could ask your mother about transferring, say it’s dangerous. You aren’t a late wolfer, but convince her possibly that Nevermore can increase your chances. Wish you were here, I hate Mr. Tuesday. That white bunny is always staring at me during my typing time. But I can tolerate him a bit more, knowing you gifted it to me. You love Mr. Tuesday, so I appreciate your gesture. It’s not often I get visions, but they’ve almost made me want to experience them more. I see you in them, baking. Writing to me. It makes me almost happy.

Enid keeps trying to get to know me, she’s a strange soul, but she’s a werewolf, like you. You two are nothing alike, yet I think you two would get along a bit too much. Except you don’t blast random glitter pop music during the night. During my WRITING TIME. Even thinking about it rots my brain. But I miss you cariño. Sleep tight, I’ve left at least 300 things to hide in your house and you’ll never expect where they are. But everyone is special, it’ll make you at least smile a little when I tell you each night. Today’s item is snuck inside your bed, I used Mother’s chainsaw to cut through the wood, it’s a tiny version of Mr. Tuesday. I asked Thing the other day to sneak it in that spot and he sanded the wood back in. It should be a sort of door. But I crocheted it during my free time, there are times where I can’t think during my writing time. That is an understatement, but I only think of you. But I’m hoping you can enjoy it for today.

Love you, sleep cozily,

Weds

-

You smile as you look under your bed, now noticing the small outline from Wednesday’s chainsaw and you open the little compartment to see another crocheted white bunny of Mr. Tuesday. You nuzzle it and place it on your desk. You love him. You even spent a few minutes grabbing white yarn and attaching it to your tote bag.

You think about what Wednesday said, someone had gotten hurt in your school from being stabbed by a senior that was drunk. Obviously he didn’t mean it. But you had seen how anxious your mom got when she found out the news.

It was 11:23PM, and your mom’s room light was illuminated from the hallway. You get out of bed, ruffle your hair, and approach her room. Your only thought is Wednesday.

-

Before you could even ask, you already noticed her holding a black card, the logo of Nevermore Academy apparent. It said in bolded letters, 1965 Jericho’s long lasting Nevermore Academy. One for outcasts.

“Mom?” You said, your voice slowly quiet, and she looked up at you, waving you over.

“Hi honey,” she replies, “I’ve been thinking about the accident at your school. And I know you don’t like that place that much. And as much as I feel like I should keep you there. Your safety is important to me.”

Your excitement grows, you want to have that wide smile off your face.

“So?...” You question, wondering if she was saying what you were thinking she meant.

“And you keep bringing Wednesday up. So me and Morticia talked, and I talked with your father. We’re going to send you to Nevermore, but only if you want to. As long as you write to us every end of the week and call us. We want our little wolf to meet ones like her. It’s not often you find ones like us here.”

You nod.

“Yes!”

You didn't even think it would be that easy.

-

As soon as you get the news you squeal and call Wednesday early in the morning. She responds almost quickly, her voice on the other line, “What brings you to call me this early Y/N?”

“I’m transferring to Nevermore!” You say, you were much more excited but your tired voice betrayed you.

There’s a pause, then a small, “What?”

“I’m coming!”

A laugh and you can almost feel your girlfriend smiling with a toothy grin with her ear pressed to the phone.

“I knew your parents would let you go somehow,” she says, voice more excited, yet anyone else would not notice but you.

You can hear some rustling, “I’m going to ask Weems if you can dorm with me. I can kick Enid out for all I care, yet she isn’t horrible. Just, I’d rather spend it with you if she doesn’t allow a three dorm. Maybe I shouldn’t bring up a three dorm at all.”

“Thing, go back home and ask Father if Lurch can drive Y/N to Nevermore. Actually, include that if he won’t ask, I’ll shave his head off. Also make sure that he sprays two times of her favorite perfume, have her favorite sour candy ready, her headphones, her books, and tell him to pack some melon milk for her too. And her cow stuffie. Make sure he’s playing the playlist she made that’s saved in the car.”

There is a pause, and she makes a small, ‘oh oh’

“Baby,” Wednesday doesn’t call you that much, but when she does you’re over the moon. It usually shows that she’s happy. Really happy, yet her voice is still soft and composed, “I installed a door behind your clothes in your closet, guess we’ll unwrap the 300 presents when we go home. But I got another Mr. Tuesday there, he has some sort of costume on.” 

She pauses, you hear a random girl jumping up and down in the background, squealing about something as your girlfriend groans and presses her ear back into her phone, sending Enid an annoyed glare, “Pack your stuff, I’ll be waiting. I might as well cut my ears off if Enid won’t stop blabbing her mouth off.” You can tell that Wednesday turns her head to face her new roommate, she says louder, since Enid couldn’t hear her talking to you, “Better yet, slice her mouth off.” Then Enid’s squeals die down.

You grin through the phone as you grab out another version of Mr. Tuesday with a mushroom hat, you hug him tight.

The doorbell rings and you hear your mom open it, putting Wednesday on speaker phone.

“I’m almost done packing.”

“Y/N, honey. Mrs. Addams requests to see you,” your mother’s voice echoes through the hallway and you glance at the door.

You don’t know how Wednesday can hear it but she does, “I’m taking into conclusion that she received my message. Oh yes, she replied with those stupid icons. Yet it is one of a thorny rose and a gravestone.”

“Coming!” You stuff your bags, “Be right back.”

-

You almost choke as Morticia brings you into her embrace, hugging her back with an easing gentleness.

“Hello little one,” her soft voice says, the one you find comfort in as much as you do Wednesday’s. She gently rubs your hair, “I informed Lurch for your arrival, he’s outside whenever you’ll be ready dear. I’m so glad you decided to willingly join Nevermore. It has been a place that holds many memories. It’s where I met Gomez and fell in love. Maybe Wednesday and you can find the secrets in it. Go on journeys with her. Dig some graves, set them on fire."

It weird you out, but you smile, nodding, “To spend it with Wednesday is all I need.”

“You’re a special soul, a pure heart I can handle. Now go,” she waves you away, “Don’t keep him waiting for long.”

You give her one last grin and look over your shoulder before turning the corner.

-

After hanging up on Wednesday when you finish packing all your bags, your mother and father hug you goodbye and give you your favorite cranberry juice. Sweet.

It’s cozy in the Addams car, comfortingly with no talk, just the music Wednesday requested (forced) Lurch to play that lingers in your playlist. You feel like a butler with all the requests Wednesday smothered him with.

An hour passes and you can see the way the clouds slightly come into view, then you see the environment change as a sign that reads, “Welcome to Jericho! A Town of History”

Then, you finally see the academy in view, and Lurch arrives right in front, before taking your bags and guiding you to Principal Weems.

“It is my honor to have you here at Nevermore. This school has history, and where you’ll certainly grow,” her smile is wide, a little too welcoming it gets a little scary.

You just give small mumbles and nods, “Well, Morticia called me this morning and I quickly looked through your demographics. It also isn’t a coincidence that you have straight A’s. A 4.3 GPA. Many extracurriculars, and of course, you’re a werewolf. I see.”

“It is no surprise also that you had gone to the same school as another student who just enrolled, Morticia’s daughter, Wednesday. She sure is.. Different. But nonetheless talented. She had asked me yesterday afternoon if it was possible to have a dorm of three, and I’m assuming that you have been planning to dorm with her for the rest of the semester?”

She reads your mind, you immediately nod your head up and down, “Yes.”

“Well, most of the 3 dorms have been occupied, but her and Enid seem to have a slow relationship. I’ll have her in my office today, but by the end of the night or tomorrow morning I’ll give you my answer.” Weems scribbles on a note, writes some address and a name, “You’ll be rooming with Yoko, sound okay?”

You nod.

“Alright, I’ll call Enid up, for your guide.”

“..Guide?”

She nods, “Of course, we have many classes you can do, and people you can meet. She knows this place well, and I know that she’ll open up your shell.”

-

As Wednesday watches Enid leave, a soft grin forms on her face as she unties Thing from the random crocheted pink jacket Enid made for him.

Her eyes scan Enid as the door closes, then she turns to him, “I’m expecting Y/N is here. I’ve crocheted a questionable amount of Mr. Tuesdays.” She informs, “I shouldn’t have admitted that,” Wednesday sighs, as she pulls out the drawer next to her to reveal at least 40 assorted sizes of the same bunny. There were some in outfits, wigs. Wednesday almost finds it as therapeutic as her writing time. She crochets them whenever Enid leaves their dorm.

Thing smacks his head, and the braided girl glares at him, “Don’t judge me, I can cut off your fingers any time,” she threatens, seeing the way Thing surrendered with two fingers up in the air.

Then he moves around his fingers and does random hand movements.

“You think I’d follow Enid and try to make conversation with Y/N so much that Enid will get suspicious? You’d really think I’d do that?” 

Thing agrees.

“Then, you know me too well, let’s go.”

-

“Enid, glad you’re- Wednesday? It seems like you’ve tagged along,” Weems adds as she almost seems surprised, looking at her. If anything, the look in her eye is cautious.

“Yes,” Wednesday responds, trying to avoid the way your eyes almost smile as you look at her, but if anyone else were to look at you, they wouldn’t notice. “I’ve decided to accompany Enid, this is much more exciting than some other events at Nevermore,” she adds again, not entirely rude.

You sit in the middle while Wednesday takes the only left seat available, scooches her chair closer. Her hand rubs over yours after meeting under the covers of Weem’s desk. She takes note of how a small smile creeps on your face when Weem talks because of that.

“This is actually so awesome,” the blonde cheers next to you, making you turn your head and turn it, confused.

“We’re both werewolves silly! We should dorm 3 together! Wait, are there even any 3 dorms left?” When the principal shakes her head no, Enid sighs, “Then Wednesday can pair with Yoko. Actually, she barely even talks to Yoko, let alone handle her better than she’ll be able to handle me.”

You blink, glance at Wednesday for a moment and she shakes her head frantically.

“What if I dorm with her?”

The question leaves everyone silent, well everyone is surprised but Wednesday.

“You’d want to room with Wednesday while Enid rooms with Yoko?”

There's a lingering silence as you look around, “Why not? I'd like to get to know her better,” you lie. The most you want to do is get to talk to your girlfriend again.

"Oh. You don't want to, you know, get to know Wednesday before actually having to dorm with her?"

"Nope."

"Well, then that’s settled for your dorm. I’ll have to file Enid for a dorm change. But I’d like to ask if that is okay for both Wednesday and Enid.”

“Yes,” your girlfriend immediately responds, then coughs a little to cover up her excitement that’s masked behind her calm demeanor. “I can take a break from someone that is the complete opposite of me.

“I’d be happy to dorm with Yoko, at least I can have my music playing at night and my glitter-”

“My ears are bleeding Enid, don’t mention that word you just said.”

“Glitter?” Enid questions.

“No.”

You giggle from your girlfriend’s demeanor, squeezing her hand under the desk.

-

“This is Ophiela Hall! You don’t need to find your people here, you can make plenty of friends in other groups, but you have a group of werewolves! And what makes it even better is that we haven’t wolfed out!” Enid jumps up and down and you watch her legs bounce up and down, up and down. She’s like a whole party.

People give you two small looks, both you and Wednesday can tell they’re almost surprised she tagged along with someone whos new. It makes you smile a little.

Your girlfriend notices them whispering about you. Not anything bad, you seem like the sweetest person out of them all, but they’re whispering about the two of you. Even Bianca gives you a cautious look, but you’re too distracted to know what their saying as Enid keeps talking to you and dragging you along. Wednesday follows like a puppy.

“Enid, hey.” A boy speaks up, and you turn around at the new voice, he’s wearing blue and a beanie. The same tie everyone is wearing.

“Oh hi Ajax, this is Y/N. She’s new and I’m showing her around.”

A glare is thrown at Ajax as your girlfriend exhales. You give a small wave, “Hi.”

“You a werewolf too?”

You nod, seeing the way his hat kind of turns sideways, poking some peeking out snakes back into it. That’s scary.

The bell rings and you look around, confused, Enid grabs the paper you stuck in your bag.

“Oh, hey! Your next class is with Wednesday and I, it’s just plant anatomy with Thornhill. Come on.”

-

Somehow Wednesday gets Xaiver to move away from her, so now you’re sitting next to her.

“What the hell is this class?”

“Thornhill just talks about plants. The only entertaining aspect of this is that I like seeing Bianca fail to beat me. Though that goes in almost everything.”

The auburn hair girl turns around, with a wide smile and fairly big glasses for the size of her head.

“It’s a pleasure to have a new student, I’m glad to have you in our third period class Y/N.”

You embarrassingly smile, everyone looking at you, some with smiles and some with just small glances. 

“Could you give us the formula on how to turn this plant into a…” Thornhill goes on and you look at the plant, it seems it’s a Ghost Orchid.

You answer almost immediately, and Wednesday nudges you with her foot to almost say a ‘yay.’

Bianca stares at you as Thronhill clasps her hands together, “Exactly, you know your plants well. I’m sure you’ll excel here. Today we’ll have a change of assignments. It’ll be a challenge for duos against other duos and whoever answers first, and correctly for that fact, will earn a point till all the questions run out. Sound easy enough? Alright, let me get my cards ready.”

A knowing smirk grows in between you two, “We’ll win in no time,” Wednesday states, you look at the duos. It’s you and her, Enid and Yoko, Bianca and Divina, and other people you have no clue about, including Xaiver.

The game starts and before Thornhill can even get to the end of the question, you and Wednesday slap the bell, giving out the answer.

“Quick hands,” Xavier mumbles.

“That’s correct! Great job girls.”

The game goes on, and you’re tied with Bianca’s team. The silence can be cut with a knife as the two duos anticipately wait for the question. As Thornhill begins to read out the question, it takes you two a while to know the answer. Bianca and Divina seem stuck.

It’s several moments before the learning in your past catches up to you, slamming the bell and saying out the answer.

“Correct once again! You two win, great job! You can grab a succulent or stick to two pieces of candy that’s probably expired at the end of class.”

You and Wednesday high-five and to say the least, everyone is surprised because the braided-hair girl never let’s anyone touch her.

-

Weeks have past, and you’ve never been happier. Giving ideas for Wednesday’s stories that even she never thought about, helping her crochet more Mr. Tuesdays, so much that she had thing steal a laundry basket from Weem’s office, and even braid her hair and put black ribbons. She’s grateful to have you at Nevermore, her stories have been expanding because of you.

Your always stuck to her side, fencing playfully with her, even willing to go out in the woods with her. But she hasn’t went out since your arrival, knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave her side, and she certainly doesn’t want you getting hurt.

Even you and her worked together designing a matching cat on your black and white pajamas.

It’s fun when you two get to talk about life when you two are in your dorms, even better when you two are on the balcony and watching the stars. Wednesday plays the cello while you sing. She loves that she has someone that she puts her closed-off personality aside for.

“I love it, you look so pretty with bows baby,” you say, tying the ribbon.

“You look pretty with bows or without cara mia.” 

“Shut ‘p,” you say, smacking her arm lightly as she wraps her arms around you and rubs your hair.

It’s not long till Weems announce that it’s time for lunch.

Wednesday gets up, signalling you to come with her, but when you don’t, she comes back to sit next to you.

“I’m just looking for my necklace, you can go ahead, it won’t take long, promise.”

She sighs, and nods for a moment, then points at Thing, “Help her.”

Thing waves his hands as she blows a soft air kiss and closes the door.

-

It’s sprinkling a little bit when Wednesday is outside.

“How does Wednesday act so non-hazardous with Y/N? It’s honestly impressive.”

“That’s not impressive, how the hell does she not smack her or give her glares? Do you not see the way her eyes actually look normal when she looks at her? Not even normal, they’re gentle! Plus she was the first to go run and get a bandaid when Y/N accidentally got a paper cut.”

It’s like they summoned the girl, who’s holding a plate of her lunch.

Enid smiles and Wednesday sits down, looking at everyone.

“Are you seriously speaking about me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We want to know why the hell you are actually sweet with Y/N.”

“You could’ve used any word besides sweet.”

“Baby-like?”

“Even worse.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” Bianca adds, somehow now being in this conversation, “You killed the biggest spider that was crawling to her, for her.”

“She doesn’t like spiders. Who wouldn’t use not being afraid of spiders to protect someone who is?”

Bianca blinks, then wrinkles her nose, “If it was me you’d certainly let it bite me.”

“Well that’s different.”

Everyone at the table groans, “Exactly!”

“What did I tell you?”

“The only person you’d not let it bite is Y/N, we just want to know why.”

“I’m protecting her because she’s my girlfriend.”

Everyone turns their head to her, “What?”

Enid slams her fists to the table, “I fucking knew it. I knew it! Ajax, you owe me five dollars. I CALLED IT.”

“The Wednesday Addams actually has a girlfriend?”

“Why didn’t we catch on?”

“They’re kinda cute together- don’t even speak or she’ll actually cut your head off if you say cute.”

Everyone is arguing with each other, going crazy. But by the time they cool down and look at where Wednesday was sitting, her seat is empty.

Then everyone looks around and sees her draping her black jacket over your tiny figure, she pulls you closer to her chest as you hold onto her. (Let’s say she’s atleast 4 inches taller than 5’1 in this.) You tug her big jacket over your shoulders as you hug her. She holds onto you and guides you to the table, kissing your forehead and brushing your damp hair.

Even when she comes back, she bends down and takes the butterfly that’s resting on your hair and places it on your hand. “I heard somewhere that if a butterfly lands on you, it means that they see you as a beautiful flower.” 

“I never heard that before.”

“I know, I made that up.”

Everyone starts screaming again, making your girlfriend and your heads snap at them.

“Look at them!”

“Aw! So cute!”

“I want to say this is disgusting but they’ll be my roman empire soon enough.”

You turn back to her, seeing her eyes soften, almost happily, "You told them?”

“I didn’t know why they didn’t conclude to that in the beginning.”

Bianca groans, rolling her eyes as everyone is screaming, then Xavier chimes in. "Back to that spider scenario. I definitely think Wednesday would kill it for me."

You glare at him, clinging onto your girlfriend a little more like a koala. She rubs your back as you tighten your arms around her.

"Your sense of self-love is filled with stupidity. I'd kill the spiders that are harmless to you and leave the ones that are most venomous and ugly looking for people like you."

Xavier goes quiet, making a defeated grunt.

Everyone does their little, 'awws' again. You turn to her, now that everyone knows about your status.

“At least we can kiss in the hallways?”

“Maybe save that for the dorms.”

“Can we kiss right now?”

Wednesday’s eyebrows lift up, and she sighs, turning you away from the group and giving you a light kiss, as your lips press together, she nudges a small Mr. Tuesday now with inverted colors, a black bunny. They're both holding hearts and have a star over their head.

"Now Mr. Tuesday has a Mr. Wednesday," she says softly, tucking her black jacket tighter around you as you continue hugging her.

"And Miss. Y/L/N has a Miss. Addams."

[suzukiblu]

excerpt from in-progress "timebending with Zuko" fic

Zuko wakes up and everything hurts.

Most specifically, his scar hurts.

That . . . doesn’t make sense, he thinks, and reaches for it automatically. A strong hand catches his wrist before he can touch it, which seems–fair, yes. Probably a good idea, anyway, because spirits does it hurt. Just . . . so much.

“Uncle?” he asks reflexively, attempting to open his eyes. It’s surprisingly difficult. And Uncle is in Ba Sing Se, of course, but he’s on his back on a futon or bedroll or something similar and someone’s sitting beside him and his head is swimming and he’s injured, clearly, so options for who said “someone” might be are limited, really.

So it’s not Uncle, obviously, but . . .

“Nephew,” Uncle says, very quietly, and Zuko . . . blinks.

At least, half-blinks. The one eye’s in too much pain to open.

The ceiling is metal, he notes absentmindedly. That’s . . . odd. He was in the palace, wasn't he?

“What happened?” he asks, vaguely bemused. Uncle pauses in a very concerning way, and Zuko has about three heart attacks about just how badly he doesn’t want to know what he’s about to say before–

“The Agni Kai,” Uncle says, very carefully. “Do you remember it?”

Zuko frowns–just with the one side of his face, because again, his scar hurts right now. To the point that his whole body feels wrong, does his scar hurt right now.

“Um–which one?” he asks, because there’s been about a dozen this month alone, and frankly he’s getting really sick of fighting them at this point but if the old guard of nobles are just going to keep dragging everything out like this–

“With your father, Nephew,” Uncle says, very carefully.

Zuko . . . blinks.

“Oh,” he says, vaguely perplexed. Uncle never talks to him about that. “Yeah, I remember that. What about it?”

“Do you remember what happened?” Uncle says.

“The part where I disgraced myself or the part where he burned my face?” Zuko says, because it’s so fucked up and awful and horrible that he can’t even get upset about it anymore, except when he’s really upset about it. But if Uncle’s bringing it up, presumably he has a good reason to be, so . . . “Or the whole ‘go find the Avatar who no one even believes exists anymore or you can never come home again’ part?”

“. . . all of that, yes,” Uncle says, still sounding very careful. Zuko frowns a little–again with just the one side of his face–and then looks over at him. His body still feels weird and wrong, but . . .

But . . .

They’re on a ship, he realizes. A Fire Nation one.

Well, explains the metal ceiling.

It doesn’t explain why Uncle is wearing red armor and a topknot like he hasn't in years, though, or why he looks so unspeakably sad.

“Um,” Zuko says, and attempts to sit up. His head immediately starts swimming even worse, and Uncle catches his shoulders and keeps him pinned against the . . . futon? Looks like a futon, yeah. “Where are we, exactly?”

“We are aboard a ship,” Uncle says. “I . . . may have slightly commandeered it.”

“. . . you paid for it, right?” Zuko asks, a little skeptical at that idea.

“Yes, Nephew, I did,” Uncle says, giving him a very tired, pained smile. Zuko doesn’t feel much better, seeing it.

“Is someone dead?” he asks, because he can’t think of anything else that would make Uncle look that way.

“Ah–no, no one has died,” Uncle says.

“Then what’s wrong?” Zuko asks warily.

“. . . you are injured, Nephew,” Uncle says, slowly. Zuko frowns, bemused. “And your father . . . I did not know he was going to do this. I am so sorry.”

Zuko . . . pauses. Looks around the room again, and then realizes: he knows this room, doesn’t he. He knows this ship.

This is the same ship he woke up on after the Agni Kai.

“Hold that thought, Uncle,” he says, then lifts his hands and looks at them. They . . . well, they are his hands, obviously.

But they’re not his hands, obviously.

“Huh,” he says, frowning in bemusement at them; turning them around like he half-expects them to stop being a thirteen year-old’s or something equally ridiculous. They don’t. They are very definitely a thirteen year-old’s hands.

Specifically, his thirteen year-old hands.

Huh.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says after a moment, putting his hands back down and glancing back to Uncle, who’s obviously the more important concern. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I took you into that meeting,” Uncle says, his voice tight. “And I watched the Agni Kai. And I did nothing to stop any of it.”

“I know,” Zuko says. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

“It was,” Uncle says, his smile a sad and terrible thing. “You were there because of my actions. My mistakes.”

“You’re not the one who wanted to sacrifice all those soldiers,” Zuko says. “Or the one who decided to throw fire at my face.”

“You were there because of me,” Uncle repeats, his voice tight and his smile no less terrible. It occurs to Zuko, briefly, that Uncle must be thinking of Lu Ten.

He only ever looks like that when he’s thinking about Lu Ten, so . . .

“Uncle,” he says. “Really. It’s not your fault.”

“Nephew,” Uncle says, and his voice is somehow even tighter. Zuko tries to get up again, and his head swims again, and Uncle moves to stop him again. This time he grabs onto Uncle’s wrists and uses them to pull himself up, and then . . .

Well, then he’s sitting up, at least.

So that’s something.

He tilts his head and his hair slips into his eyes. It’s loose, and long. Not shaved on the sides yet, like he wore it the last time he was thirteen. He supposes he should cut it, but then again, why should he? He's not changing anything, after all.

Except for this conversation, he supposes, because that went very differently last time.

. . . hm.

"Uncle," he says one more time, and reaches out for him. Uncle doesn’t seem to understand what he’s trying to do, so he has to reach out a little farther, and then Uncle makes the connection and leans in and lets him wrap his arms around him and alright, yes: that’s better, Zuko thinks, and clings to him.

Just a little, perhaps, but . . .

Yes. He clings to him.

Uncle wraps his arms around him in turn, very carefully, and makes an awful sound.

“My boy,” he chokes. “I’m so–I’m so–”

“I forgive you,” Zuko lies, because of course there’s nothing to forgive.

But of course Uncle doesn’t understand that, does he.