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woewriting · 2 days ago

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cold to the touch

pairing: wednesday addams | reader summary: after visiting the other side afterwards almost being killed by the pilgrim, wednesday addams catches the attention of someone who's a bit curious about the girl who escaped death. word count: 8494 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no pronouns used, contains nsfw content.

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The rumors of a new transferred student filled the hallways of Nevermore, gossips about what kind of creature had just moved in. Everyone had a different theory, the glass-like eyes reminded Bianca of her own, the mermaids. The black-painted, sharp nails were a werewolf thing, Enid thought to herself as she eyed you from afar. The locks of your hair, hidden by the black beanie made it look like you were hiding something… snaky underneath it. But what caught the attention of everyone was the black and white suit that covered your body, similar to the one Wednesday Addams wears. The lack of color in your vests were enough to draw everyone’s attention, although, your beauty and the mystery around what you were, was an extra reason for the Addams girl to close the book in her hands and pay a small attention to your details, away from the crowd.

Following the tall woman, you stood by her side at the entrance to the courtyard. Everyone’s eyes on you.

“Attention, Nevermore, I’d like to introduce to you all our new student. I’m sure you’re gonna make her feel welcome during her journey in our school, isn’t that correct?”

Some heads nodded at the woman’s statement, others simply turned around and ignored their surroundings, a messy chatter growing louder and louder. The director touched your shoulder with a gentle smile before walking away, leaving you by yourself.

As you looked around the new faces you’d have to get used to, you noticed how things were different since the last time you’d actually been on earth wearing your human form. It’s been what, 3 years? Maybe a bit more… your memory failing to recap the last years, they were a messy and confusing blur. Ever since you became Death, your memories from your human life were slowly being erased as you kept on living as the undying creature, responsible for harvesting souls as they walked to you on the other side of the veil, waiting for your hand to touch their chest so they could rest in peace.

At first, your heart would break when they realized they were no longer allowed to live with the living ones, when they had to walk away and leave their loved ones behind and accept their destiny, waiting for their rebirth.

You had the same expression on your face when you saw your lifeless body on the hospital bed, surrounded by doctors that tried everything in their power to bring you back. You stood there for minutes, crying as you felt farther and farther from your human life, taking steps back until everything around you turned into a white forest, with long trees that swung with the cold breeze, you felt nostalgia as you walked around the empty garden, as if you had returned home after a long trip. It was warm, like watching the sunrise at the beach, the soft sound of waves crashing down the white sand, the birds chirping around you with a calming melody, and the breeze… so light and refreshing, ready to embrace you in your new life as a new day rose in front of your eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes, the white forest turned into a beach with a few waves crashing at your feet, the pinkish sky painted with a few clouds in shapes of things you loved when you were alive.

That’s when it hit you, like a punch in the stomach you fell to your knees, the tears dropping from your face onto the clear blue water, mixing in together as your new life was being written in the sand. You were alone, but something inside you was saying to look around, to look for her. She would help you to start over. She would guide you until you were to move on your own. But she would never leave you alone.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A soft voice came from behind you.

You looked over your shoulder, feeling the warm water hit your legs.

A woman was standing a few steps away from where you kneeled down. She had her eyes closed, enjoying the early breeze of the morning as the sun turned the sky into a yellowish tone with a few splashes of light blue.

She was beautiful.

“What do I do now?” You ask as you brushed off the tears that still insisted on falling down your cheeks. “Where do I go?”

When her eyes opened, your heart missed a beat. It had no color in them, yet you could still see the universe in the bright white color, they were glowing as she stared down at you, reaching her hand out to help you up to your feet.

“Oh, honey.” She smiled. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Aren’t you an angel?”

The woman in white, silky dress, laughed. Even the way she laughed was angelical and beautiful, you couldn’t help but smile at the heavenly view in front of you.

“I am an angel, but not the one you’re thinking of.” Her hand was soft against yours as she pulled you closer. Her other hand brushing your hair off your face. “I am Death, but I am not here to take your soul, I’m here to guide you on your new journey. When you wake up, you’ll be me. Your eyes will see every single particle of the universe around you. You will hear every heartbeat of those living around you. And when their time comes, you will be the one to embrace their souls as they leave this world.”

“You want me to become… death? You want me to kill people?”

She shook her head, hearing the missing beat your heart took as fear filled your body. Her hand rested on your chest, calming the racing organ.

“You won’t kill anyone, sweetheart, you only take the souls that will walk to you. You will become a beacon for those leaving the living world. You will help them to leave that life behind so they can move forward to their new one. It’s your duty to ease their fears, to leave all their anger, their sorrows, their pain, behind.”

“What about those who loved them?”

Deep down, Death knew your question was a personal one for you. She looked at the waves crashing over your shoulders.

“Death will come for everyone, love. It’s a hurtful, but necessary evil. Death exists to teach others that life will end, there’s nothing you can do to stop that from happening. I am here so that others can live their lives to the fullest, cherishing every moment with their loved ones, finding beauty in the small things, learning and enjoying the simplest things you can ever lay your hands on. This is yours.”

Turning around, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath.

Even though you felt like you couldn’t walk away from the life you had, you couldn’t jump back into your lifeless body that was still laying in that hospital bed. In the back of your head, you could still hear the machines attached to your chest.

She was right.

Death was a lesson.

And everyone should learn about it so they can live without fear.

When a new wave crashed at your feet, a warmth embraced your body, lifting you from the ground as the air kept you floating. When you opened your eyes, you were still floating, but this time, cold and salty water surrounded you. You coughed a few times as you swam back to the shore.

It was the same beach; it had the same yellowish sky and the same rocks on its side. The water was not warm and the sand wasn’t as white as before, but you knew that after this moment, nothing would be the same anymore.

Your rebirth as the angel of Death was a few years ago, just when you had turned 18 years old. When you woke up, the memories of your loved ones had been erased, their faces disappearing like smoke in thin air. You didn’t remember much about your life as a human being, the only thing you could remember came after her, the beautiful angel with white eyes that carried the whole universe in them that touched your chest and embraced you in a warm hug.

And now, scanning the young faces, you were looking for a specific one, the reason why you abandoned your comfortable home to come here, the human side of your world. You’d never forget the brownish eyes surrounded by adorable freckles you saw months ago. You’d seen that face before, but the one with blonde hair didn’t carry the same attitude the one with black braids did. She was unique, and she hadn’t left your mind ever since.

Wednesday Addams… the girl that survived death and saved the small town of Jericho from an evil spirit in her last year of high-school. Your eyes looked for her, careful and sharp, paying attention to every single detail of the faces in front you, absorbing all the information you could.

Apparently, the girl was nowhere to be seen or heard. She was either really good at hiding or she wasn’t even there with the other students. You looked for another familiar face, easily finding the blonde girl sitting by the water fountain.

Enid smiled big at you, wrapping her arms around your body in a welcoming hug.

“Welcome to Nevermore!” Her voice was a high-pitched tone, nothing annoying but definitely louder than you were used to. “Are you going to high school or getting ready for college like us?” Her hand motioned to the small group sitting at the rock made structure.

“Do I look young enough to still be in high school?” You asked in a joking way.

“Well, you do look young,” She laughed, but judging by your uniform, she could’ve known you were no longer a teenager. “But it’s nice to have a new student in our class, we’ve been seeing the same faces for a really long time. The last time someone joined Nevermore, it was a mess… but we’re all good now, no danger at sight!”

Your eyes glowed at her saying, “I heard about that. A small girl saved this place, isn’t that right?”

Enid got closer to you, whispering in your ear. “Don’t call Wends small, she will kill you in your sleep. Don’t call her Wends too or she will kill me and I’m not ready to die.”

“Trust me, I’m not ready to die either.” You smiled.

➖

The days in Nevermore Academy were starting to become dull and annoying, causing you to flee out of the gates that surrounded the big buildings at night just to lay on top a big tree’s branches, watching the universe with your white eyes, witnessing the death of a supernova millions of years away from where you were, or even the birth of a new galaxy. It was in those moments that you were happy to be what you were meant to be. To this day, you don’t know much about why you were the chosen one, why the angel of Death had chosen you to be the next one wearing that ring.

Staring at it, the silvery ring on your left hand, you swear you saw it moving around your finger, shining like a small star. You had your theories on what that glow meant, but you were too lazy to go after the reason why it did that every now and then. You would wait for all the answers to fall from heaven into your lap, like an encyclopedia.

You took a closer look to the universe over the dark sky before jumping down, a few dry leaves cracking under your shoes.

“How did you get up there?” Turning around as you heard the monotone voice, you saw Wednesday coming out from behind a tree a few steps away from you.

“I climbed.” You easily lied. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m a very quiet girl, I can sneak into your dorm and you won’t even notice I was there.”

“Have you ever broken into my room?”

“Why would I break into your room?” The girl always had a serious expression on her pretty face. It was like Wednesday Addams couldn’t feel a thing.

You shrugged, “You said it first.”

“It was an example.” She explained. “I’m sorry if I made it seem like I would do such a disrespectful action like breaking into your room. If I wanted to be in your room, I’d knock on the door.”

When you took a step closer, she took two steps back.

Wednesday was always a step back from everyone, even from those that she’s closer with, like Enid and Bianca. In the 3 months you were in Nevermore, you had never seen a single soul touch the black-haired girl, the only thing that was allowed to touch her was, well… Thing, the severed hand that would linger around her shoulder that still made your brain itch. What was Thing, anyway? Only one from the many secrets hidden behind the black and white girl.

“Well, if you ever need me for anything, I will be in my room.”

Turning on your heels to leave and return to the dorm's aisle, you heard the dry leaves cracking under her heavy boots.

“Why do you always climb that tree?” Despite the not-caring-like personality, Wednesday was a very curious girl, and she wanted to know everything about you.

Who the new girl was and what was she? Your human body could be a part of any outcast group in Nevermore Academy and not knowing what it was, was slowly driving her crazy.

“I like to watch the stars.” You answered honestly, walking to the Academy with the Addams following behind you. “What about you? Why were you hiding?”

“I was hiding from you.” The confession made you turn around, hands in the pockets of your jacket. “Isn’t that obvious?”

Instead of stopping on her tracks when you did, she allowed herself to come a bit closer, still keeping a safe distance. From this distance, you could smell her fainted perfume; it smelled so different from when you smelled it in her dorm when you would visit Enid to talk about music and trivial things that still made you feel like a human being, even if your heart wasn’t beating anymore.

“Are you stalking me, princess?”

“Call me princess again and I will easily break into your dorm and kill you in your sleep.” You let out a breathy laugh at the threatening tone in her voice. Adorable, you thought to yourself. “And yes, I want to know what you are.”

“What I am?” You asked with curiosity.

“Yes, that’s what everyone wants to know. Don’t you hear the gossip around the Academy?”

“I do.” After all, you could hear almost everything that surrounded you. As a newly angel of Death, the heartbeats would be a distraction when trying to listen to their voices, but you were getting the hang of it. “But why would anyone care about what I am? What if I am… a simple human being?’

“The last human being that stepped inside the walls of the school was a homicide maniac that tried to kill me and all the others outcast. I’d say it’s a terrible choice of place to stay.”

“I like the danger.”

“Should I kill you then? To prevent you from killing us?”

“I’d like to see you try, princess.”

Wednesday didn’t even notice how close to her you were until your hot breath hit her lips as you leaned into her personal space. Unlike before, the Addams didn’t flinch, instead, she lifted her chin and looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, never blinking.

For some reason, when looking into your eyes, Wednesday could see something else other than the pleasure in irritating her in them, she could see life in its most beautiful way. The more she kept her eyes locked on yours, the more she could see; it was like you had the entire universe trapped in them. It was at that moment she knew you weren’t human.

➖

After the small encounter you had with Wednesday at the woods behind the academy, somehow, you two became something like colleagues but not closer enough to be considered friends. The small girl had learned how to tolerate your presence as you lingered around her dorm, and now, you were getting closer and closer to find out all of her secrets, it was closer enough for Enid to leave her roommate alone with you, something she’d never done before, to attend tonight’s dance. Now, you were laying on her bed, head hanging off the comfortable mattress, staring at the back of Wednesday’s body as she kept on tapping the loud keyboards of her writing machine.

You sighed, loud. Addams did the same, her shoulders raising and falling with the deep breath she took.

“You’re an annoying creature.” She commented, still focused on the keys she had to click on, trying not to type a mistake as she had done to the previous five paper balls that were piling in the trash can near her desk.

“I’m bored.”

“Why didn’t you go to the party with Enid?”

“Why didn’t you?”

You sat correctly on the bed, crossing your legs.

“Last time I went to a party it rained blood, it was red paint, actually. After that disappointing event, I swore to never attend a party again.”

The silence around the room was a comfortable one, the only thing you could hear was the loud, mechanical sound of her writing machine and the calming beats of her heart.

Listening to her heart beats had become commonplace, you would stop anything you were doing just to listen to the tranquil sound. It didn’t matter if you were in the same room or if you were across the Ophelia Hall, on the other side of the building, you’d easily catch the unique sound.

“I’m hungry,” you whined like a small kid. “let’s go find something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“But I am, and believe it or not, your company is not the worst.”

The mechanical sound stopped as Wednesdays turned to face you.

“I’ll pretend that didn’t offend me.” Before standing up, the girl removed the white page filled with words in black ink and placed in her drawer, on top of the others, words facing down. You remained sitting on the same spot, looking at her with doe eyes. “Are you waiting for me to take your hand and lead you down to the kitchen?”

You stretched out your hand to her, waiting. But the Addams would never do such a dangerous thing, despite the urge she felt in touching you sometimes, she felt drawn to you ever since the meeting you had in the woods during that cold night. The urge was still a mystery to her, but Wednesday always considered it was more of an urge to punch you every time you opened your mouth.

“Alright. Lead the way, miss Addams.” The other rolled her eyes.

As you walked down the hallways of Nevermore, you could hear the muffled songs and happy screams coming from the saloon where the party took place. It was a silly celebration for the first snow or something, something you didn’t care enough to celebrate, and neither did the girl that walked three steps ahead of you in complete silence. The light of the almost full moon crashing through the big windows and bathing your skin as you crossed the buildings in search for food. Not that you needed to eat, but still found pleasure in such a simple thing.

Wednesday led you to the kitchen, a few steps away from the ballroom, the music playing a bit louder inside your head now.

The girl waited patiently as you searched the pantry closet for something sweet. You knew that principal Weems always hid her chocolates and candies in the kitchen of the Academy, a place where the students were not allowed in. And now, you were in a forbidden place looking for something that didn’t belong to you, to satiate a silly desire that you barely felt in your stomach. Your body would crave random things from time to time, the longer you’d wear your human body, the stronger those urges would get.

“Can’t you get something from the table?” Behind you, there was a big counter filled with food that was being served to the ones that attended the party, but nothing you actually wanted to eat at the moment.

Tiptoeing, you tried to reach the top shelf of the pantry room. “I want chocolate, and I know Weems keeps hers in here. I saw her hiding them a few nights ago when I was going to the woods.”

“I will never understand the craving for things sweet like chocolate. It’s too sweet to enjoy.”

“Even semi-sweet chocolates?”

The girl pondered for a second as she watched you stretch out, whimpers coming out of your mouth as you kept trying to reach the high place. Was she really having small talk with you while you tried to steal the principal’s candies? It surely was something new to her, and, surprisingly, it was easy to do it with you.

“Those aren’t as repulsive, but it still isn’t something I crave in the middle of the night.”

You laughed, the tip of your finger recognizing the packaged at the end of the shelf, but before you could actually grab it in your hands, you heard familiar footsteps approaching, the sound of clicking heels on the wooden floor got louder and louder to you as principal Weems got closer to where you and Wednesday were. The human was so absorbed in your motions that she barely had the time to process your hand on her waist, pulling her body against yours and closing the door behind her.

Wednesday’s eyes shot wide open as she felt your hand covering her mouth, stopping her from making any sound, whilst your other arm wrapped around her waist to keep her closer to you in the small and dark space. When she heard the principal’s voice coming just from outside the pantry room, she stopped fighting against your hold and patiently waited for the voices to cease.

You gulped, the smell of her perfume and newly closeness distracting you from trying to listen to Weems’ and the cook’s heartbeat. All you could hear was hers, beating so erratically you could feel it in her back, pressed against your chest.

Looking over her shoulder, her eyes found yours, white taking over and galaxies shining in them.

What the fuck were you?

Once the footsteps moved away and out of the area your ability allowed you to hear, your hand uncovered her mouth and you let out a deep sigh, feeling your lungs burn. She turned in your arm to face you. Only then you noticed you still had your arm wrapped around her thin waist, but that didn’t seem like something that was bothering the girl.

“That was a close one.” You joked, trying to ease the tension that surrounded you two.

“Why is my touch not killing you?” Addams roamed her hands all over your chest, arms and face as if she was trying to find a spot where her curse would be the end of you. She wasn’t trying to kill you though; she was curious as to why you hadn’t dropped dead against the shelfs of the small space.

“You can’t kill what’s already dead, Wednesday.” You replied, humorously, enjoying the way her nails occasionally scratched the skin of your neck and chest because of the open buttons of your blouse.

“And I am the one they call ‘dramatic’.” She stopped touching you, taking a step back. “What are you?”

“I’m Death.”

“If you call yourself ‘death, destroyer of the world’, I will torture you and proceed to use a blind knife to slowly tear your limbs apart to feed it to the werewolves on the full moon tomorrow.”

“I’m not that cool, but I am Death. Death as in the angel, Death.” You explained calmly. “You’re a curious little thing, when I saw your cute face on the veil, I knew I had to get to know you.”

“Do not call me ‘a little thing’ or ‘cute’ ever again. Those words are sickening to my ears.”

Raising your hands, you smiled, leaning against the shelfs behind you, the chocolate forgotten on the top one. Wednesday crossed her arms, eyes traveling up and down your body, carefully studying the body that carried the most powerful being to ever walk the earth. And it was inside of… you. An annoying being that loved pet-names, pop music and disgustingly sweet candies, who would never leave her alone even if she’d threaten you with every terrible torture method she had in her vocabulary.

“Are you afraid of me?” You ask as her eyes analyzed your features, white color taking over your eyes as if on command.

The girl tilted her head, curious like a little kid that discovered a new, colorful animal in her backyard.

“Why would I be afraid of such an amazing creature such as yourself?” The words slipped easily, without giving much attention to its meaning. She wanted to know more about what was hidden under the undying body in front of her.

“You think I’m amazing, Addams?”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, the annoyance growing bigger inside her. She was curious about what you are, but the arrogant tone you always carried around in your voice was something she could not bear for a long time.

“You do amaze me, if I’m being honest. I didn’t know angels could walk the earth.”

You shrugged. “I’m the only one that can come and go any time without breaking the balance of the universe. If others come, there will be chaos.”

“You said you saw my ‘cute’ face on the other side,” her voice choked at the endearment. “When was that?”

“A couple months ago, when that pilgrim almost killed you.” You start, taking an opened package of candy from your jacket’s pocket. Wednesday looked at you with an unbelievable look in her eyes at that; you had sweets with you the whole time and still tried to steal some more? A menace, indeed. “I’ve seen your ancestor, Goody, a few times. Even though you two are very similar, she’s not you.”

“How’s that?”

You chewed a few sour candies before answering.

“She doesn’t have that ‘I’m going to murder you in the most horrible way you could ever imagine’, look in her eyes, you do. And you have no idea how beautiful it looks on you.”

Wednesday seemed satisfied with your words, softening her posture and accepting the sour candy you offered to her.

For some reason, for her, it was hard to be away from you, something kept drawing her in; maybe it was the curious side of hers in wanting to know everything she could about everything, or maybe it was your charm. Or the fact that you could touch her, it was a different, new feeling; being touched, that is.

“Give me your hand.” She reached out her hand, waiting for yours to rest on top of hers. You licked the sourly sugar from your fingertips before whipping them in your pants, finally doing as she said. “I can’t believe you’re the most powerful creature in the universe.” She mumbled like an old, grumpy lady. Hesitantly, she traced the lines on the palm of your hands, surprised at how warm your skin was. You were a dead creature after all, weren’t you? You watched with mesmerized eyes as she touched your forearms under the fabric of your blouse. She tilted her head up, eyes shining as she kept touching you with a light-feather touch.

“You’ve never touched anyone before?”

She shook her head, your voice lower and soft for some reason.

“Mother taught me to never allow someone to touch me, or to touch someone that wasn’t an Addams. It’s a curse placed on our family.”

“Who did it?”

“I’m not sure, mother doesn’t talk about this. And father is not allowed to. All I’ve been told is that it was a jealousy curse coming from someone in the school from when my parents were still students in Nevermore.” She shrugged. “My parents have been through a lot of resentment, it’s outlandish, if I’m being honest.”

“And how does it feel?”

Her eyes found yours, “Like a spider crawling up my fingers. It tickles.” It was a weird feeling, but still something she could get used to with time. “How old are you?”

“You should never ask a lady her age, Miss Addams. You, coming from such a fancy and well-mannered family should know that.”

“I’m starting to regret holding your hand in mine and not stabbing it.”

The silly threat got you laughing. Still, her fingers were tracing random lines in your forearm.

“I died when I turned 18 in a car accident.” You started, trying as hard as you could to remember those days. “This was… 5 years ago, maybe? I can’t remember much of it, my old life.” you specified. “All I remember is waking up at the beach. I’m not much older than you, I’m taller though.”

“I'm running out of offenses about how annoying you are. Death should be scary, not an irritating girl.”

“Should I wear a dark robe, listen to heavy metal and carry a reaping hook around?”

“It’s not about how you dress; it’s about how you act.”

You blinked a few times, pulling your hand from hers. “I guess I don’t want to lose the human part of me, it’s all that’s left.”

For the first time since you two met, Wednesday saw something different in your eyes before you turned your back to her. She saw a glimpse of sadness in the place it used to be filled with life.

Tiptoeing once again, you reached the package from the top shelf, waving it in front of you like a happy little kid.

“We can go now.”

For the first time in that chaotic night, you saw a flash of smile in her face.

➖

Even with headphones on and music blasting in your ears, you could hear the sound you loved the most getting louder as Wednesday crossed the hallways in her heavy boots, coming in the direction of your room. You jumped from your bed, taking the headphones off and placing them on the bedside table, opening the door before the girl could even raise her hand to knock, you asked with glowing eyes and sly smile:

“Can I help you, Miss Addams?”

“How did you know I was here?” Her dead eyes narrowed in your direction, eyeing you up and down. It was the first time she’d see you in your pajamas.

“I know when you’re around because I know the sound of your heart.”

You winked to the girl standing in the hallway, leaning on the door frame. That caught her off guard, eyes leaving yours to scan around your room.

It was definitely not what she had in mind, who would’ve thought that death is into pop and not soul-sucking type of music? Her eyes grew wider at the posters of girls glued to the brick wall.

After the pantry encounter and shocking revelation about who you were, Wednesday would often come to you with the most random, yet interesting questions a person could ask. You’d sit in the woods at night and watch the stars as she asked you if a supernova had occurred, or if it was raining on other planets. She’d ask with wide eyes if you could see life outside of Earth and would get annoyed when you refused to answer, creating a mystery that she would try hard to figure it out by the loose words you’d say.

Sometimes, she’d touch your arm like a kid to see if you’d still survive her curse every time you annoyed her. When she was feeling bold and in a good mood, her fingers would trace your skin in a soft touch as you fell asleep while watching the stars, comfortable in each other’s presence. As the days passed by, she’d find out your abilities and put them to test, walking to her dorm and asking if you could still hear her; after a couple minutes, you’d show up on her balcony to answer.

An amazing creature you were, indeed.

“You and Enid have the same music taste, a bitter mix of loud noises.” She commented in the same tone she always had in her voice.

You shrugged, crossing your arms. “I know, we talk a lot about it.”

In fact, even though you came to Nevermore to find the beautiful girl that somehow escaped you, you and the werewolf with pink hair became somewhat friends. Maybe it was a core memory from your life as a human-being, something that being friends with Enid would prevent it from drifting away from you; something you were not ready to let go yet. Something that kept you warm inside.

“Can I come in?”

With a nod of your head, Wednesday walked past you and stood in the middle of the room, eyes still analyzing her surroundings. That was the first time she’d been in your dorm even after the newly closeness you had, unlike you, who would visit hers almost every day to talk to her roommate and take away all the quietness she needed to work on her writing.

“So, did you like it?”

“Pardon?”

“My room. Is it what you imagined it would be like?”

Wednesday blinked once before turning to you. “Quite the opposite. I never thought Death would be a fan of KPOP to the point of having a collection of albums. Do you even speak Korean?”

“I don’t need to speak Korean to feel something.” You joke, taking a few steps towards the black and white girl. “And I do like ‘soul-sucking’ and ‘I hate myself’ type of music as well, they just don’t have cool posters to hang on the wall or photocards to collect.” As if you had read her mind, you explained.

“Fair enough.” She uncrossed her arms, lifting her head to face you as you got closer, a good inch taller than her. “But I didn’t come here to talk about music, I can do that with Enid if I ever wish to have a headache.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to offend you.”

You laugh, poking her shoulder. “I wasn’t offended, but my music taste is a lot better than Enid’s.”

“How’s that if you both listen to the same genres of music?”

The Addams girl was genuinely curious, outside of the classical world that filled her earphones and cello lessons, she didn’t have a clue about it. To her, it all had the same sound: noise. It was a messy and loud mix of words and instruments that she could not guess a single one of, almost impossible to appreciate for more than a couple minutes.

Her head was starting to hurt just from remembering some of the songs Enid would play while getting ready for classes early in the morning, even the birds that used to chirp outside the balcony window had disappeared.

“You see, there’s a lot of music styles inside of the KPOP world.” You start, loving the way Wednesday was close to you, attentively listening to you explain something she didn’t care at all. “For example: the songs BTS make today aren’t the same as the ones they made when they debuted. And BTS isn’t the same as Seventeen. And Seventeen is far from sounding the same as Dreamcatcher. And so it goes. It’s a big world, with different ways to produce music.”

“That’s interesting, indeed. But to my ears, it’s all noise. I have yet to learn how to tolerate it.” You smiled. Even though it was something the Addams wasn’t a fan of, she’d still try to tolerate it if it meant something to Enid, and to you. “Still, I didn’t come here to learn about music. I wanted to ask you something.”

“I’m all ears, princess.” Wednesday closed her eyes, taking a deep breath at the nickname you addressed her; you bit your bottom lip, catching the loud beat of her heart that was there every time you’d annoy her. “You don’t like being called ‘princess’. Do you, princess?”

“Keep calling me that and I will not hesitate on burning all of your album’s collection.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Wednesday really was something else, she wasn’t afraid of you, you knew that, but to threaten you, even with something so small like burning a few pieces of paper with pretty people printed on them, that was a courage that many wouldn’t have around you knowing that you, literally, had their lives in the palm of your hand.

She was fascinating to your eyes.

Just as you were to hers. The girl wouldn’t admit out loud, but she wanted to cut you open and study whatever made you being what, or who, you were. The detective side of hers screaming in the back of her brain.

But, right now, she wanted to cut open something else, and only you could help her.

“You said you needed help… With what, exactly, love?”

Choosing to ignore the endearing nickname, she took a step forward. You mirrored her.

“I want you to touch me.”

“I’m sorry?”

Your head turned slightly at her words as if you were trying to have a clearer hearing of her voice even though you were one small step away from each other. From this distance, you could hear the blood traveling on her veins.

Wednesday took a deep breath, wondering if you really didn’t understand her or if you were, as always, joking around.

“I want you to touch me. What part of that did you not understand?”

“I just wanted to confirm, sweetheart.” You smiled. “It’s not every day that I get asked to touch something so beautiful and unique like yourself.”

The praise got to her, a small twinge of pain spreading on her stomach. A good type of pain.

“I wasn’t asking.”

You took the last step forward after her last words when you noticed she was stuck in the same spot, your finger tracing her jawline in a ghostly-like touch. Wednesday closed her eyes, goosebumps all over her body. It was weird and it tickled, but the warmth of your skin on hers was something she could tolerate.

Wednesday would always touch you, but you never touched her. It was the second time someone touched her and didn’t drop dead in a second, so she leaned into the caress. You bit your lower lip, leaning closer to her, whispering against her slightly open lips.

“Can I kiss you?” The words hit her like a flaming arrow.

Wednesday wasn’t the type to anticipate anything, her anxiety was always under her control, but having you, asking such delicate question, looking at her with soft eyes filled with stars, made her heart beat like crazy.

“You can.”

The arrow, shot with extreme precision, went through her body when your lips touched, spreading fire on her veins. It was her first kiss; you were her first kiss.

Gently, your hand reached her face, holding her in place as you deepened the kiss, sighing against her. The Addams closed her eyes, giving into your touch. Unsure what to do, her hands grabbed the soft fabric of your shirt, feeling the warmth that emanated from your body.

It was a funny thing to feel, Death being a hot body while Wednesday was cold to the touch. When your heart beat against hers, she melted against your embrace.

When you pulled back, a very small, satisfied smile drew on the corner of her lips. Her eyes shot open, a black glow shining on them.

“Was that your first kiss?” Your voice was nothing but a whisper, so low and soft that if you two weren’t glued to each other, the Addams wouldn’t have heard. She nodded. “How far do you wanna go tonight?”

“I’ll tell you when to stop.” Wednesday breathed out, licking her lips. “Now, can we do that again?”

“As many times as you want, princess.”

When you kissed her again, it wasn’t soft or calm, it turned rough, needy, with her nails scratching the back of your neck as she pulled you closer, hugging your body with an urge she’d never felt before. You were the first person outside the Addams family that could touch her, and she would enjoy every single minute of it, it didn’t matter if she seemed desperate or needy, right now, all she craved was your hands on her body, bruising the untouched skin.

Pulling her up, Wednesday wrapped her legs around your waist as you easily walked towards your bed, sitting down with her on your lap. The kiss was sloppy, wet and the way she was whimpering against your mouth was turning your head upside down. Kissing her was a lot different than you had ever imagined. When you pulled away to breath, a string of saliva connected your lips.

“Why did you stop?” Her voice came out as a lowly whisper, and she was soft against your body.

“I want to make sure you really want this; this whole touch thing is new to you. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” Your hand found the skin of her back under the shirt she wore to sleep, feeling the goosebumps as you roamed them up and down.

“I appreciate the concern,” Wednesday gulped hard. “but I can take it. I can take you.”

So you kissed her again, harder and deeper, deliciously moving your tongue on hers, allowing her to take control of that situation. Her hands found your hair, fingers pulling at the softness and making them a mess as you turned on your knees, laying her against the mattress of your bed.

The muffled sounds escaping her mouth became louder as your hands found her thigh, even over the fabric of her sleeping pants it felt nice to have someone touching her there, squeezing the flesh as you moved up, playing with the elastic of it. The tip of your fingers easily trespassing.

“It turns me on so badly knowing that I’m the only one that can touch you.” The confession got her head spinning, the blood rushing in her veins all the way up her cheeks, red color giving life to the pale skin.

With your lips pressed against hers, you moved the kiss to her jawline, down to her neck. You could feel the blood flowing in her veins when your tongue licked her jugular before biting that spot, a soft moan escaping her parted lips, fingers locked in your hair as she pulled you impossibly closer, legs wrapping around your waist.

Wednesday’s hand moved down to your waist, lifting your shirt in a silent request for you to remove the useless fabric, she wanted to feel every centimeter of your warm skin. You were, unexplainable, burning under her fingerprints when you fixed your posture, removing the pajama and throwing it on the floor. The brunette licked her lips at the sight of you, black painted nails scratching your belly in her curious movements, a flash of bothersome in your eyes at the slight burning feeling.

Sitting up with you on her lap, Wednesday kissed alongside your neck, biting the collarbone, a purplish dot where her mouth previously was. She was aggressive with her mouth and you were loving it.

Despite being the first time she ever got to touch someone like that, Wednesday knew what she was doing with her mouth, and with her hands. The cold fingertips curiously moving down your spine and resting on your lower back, digging into the soft skin and making your hips moving against hers.

“Do that again.” Once more, she wasn’t asking. She was demanding with a breathy voice that could’ve easily stolen a few years of your immortal life, forcing you to repeat the move with her bare hands.

One of your hands was firm on the back of her neck while the other rested on the wooden headboard, applying the pressure you wanted to use on her, but couldn’t. Her small body could easily break under your touch.

“I think…” You breathed out, letting your head fall back when her kisses moved to your neck. “I think we should switch positions, love.”

“You don’t think I can do this?”

“Oh, I know you can.” You choked a laugh. “But this is your first time, I want to focus on you, princess. I want to make you feel good. I’ve been touched before.”

The innocent mention of her not being your first — like you were going to be hers — turned a key inside her that made her sink her teeths in the crook of your neck. A painful muffle scaping your throat, the twinge of pain spreading in your veins.

“I really don’t want to think of others touching you right now.” Wednesday whispered as she licked the wounded skin. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

“That’s fair, Addams.” Swallowing hard, you pulled back, making her look at you. Her eyes were darker than usual, swallowed by the pleasure of having you gridding on her lap. You leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow kiss, distracting her with your tongue as you slowly pressure her down the mattress again, trying to fix yourself in between her legs. The Addams pushed her hips towards you. “Someone’s anxious.”

“Shut up.” She tried pulling you down with the heels of her feet, but you were stronger than her — even without using the strength of being Death gave you. “Why are you doing this?”

“This?”

“Just…touch me. I’m bothered.”

“Bothered?”

There you were once again, the little jerk that liked to tease her about everything. She knew you knew exactly what she meant with that word and, on other occasions, she would’ve played along and delayed her answer, but right now, with the annoying slick in between her legs, she went straight to the point.

“Just fuck me already.”

You smiled against her, biting on her lower lip.

“That’s a polite princess.” One of your hands travelled down her body, ignoring what you soon would give your undivided attention to, to rest in between her legs. When your finger pressed down the wet patch on her pants, your eyes flashed in white. “No underwear, Wednesday?”

“I didn't want anything making it harder for you to touch me.” She confessed, licking her lips and tasting the remains of yours. “But, clearly, I wasn't counting with you making it hard.”

The Addams rolled her hips against your fingers and, even through the fabric of her pajama, it still felt ten thousand times better than when she touched herself in the darkness of her room.

You could feel how wet she was for you. How ready she was for you.

Hooking your fingers in the elastic waistband, you pulled down her pants. Wednesday finished kicking the useless thing somewhere around your dorm, now resting along with your shirt.

Unlike you thought she would be, the Addams wasn’t shy under your gaze, no… she had a satisfied smile. Her ego boosting at the way you licked your lips at the sight of her dripping cunt.

Your hand travelled up her leg, the ghostly touch making her shiver and move anxiously. The closer your fingertips got to her inner thighs, the wetter she got. Literally dripping onto your sheets. She was desperate for you.

Leaning down on your elbows, you were fast to collect that single drop, moaning at the bittersweet taste. You looked up, finding the black eyes focused on your mouth when your tongue slided against her, savoring her in a slow, torturous lick that seemed to last forever.

“You taste so fucking good, Wednesday.” You whispered, turning your face to kiss her inner thigh.

“Then why isn't your tongue inside me already?” The Addams was annoyed and impatient, you could tell by the way her hands moved from gripping the sheets to gripping your hair, trying to pull you closer. She groaned, rolling her eyes. “I despise you.”

Your sly smile didn’t last long as she gathered strength to push your face against her cunt, and you finally gave her what she wanted.

Wednesday’s lips parted as a quiet breath escaped them, lost in the thick air that surrounded your bedroom. Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging and pulling at the soft strands as your tongue moved in different directions, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, moving up and down her slit and kissing her cunt. Her juice dripping down your chin as your digit brushed over her clitoris, circling the swollen bundle of nerves carefully before pushing her bigger lips together with your thumb and index finger, creating more pressure when your tongue flickered on her clit.

She nearly screamed when you kept doing that, your other hand resting on her belly, fingers intertwining as she squeezed your head with her legs. Luckily, you didn’t need to breathe.

Your eyes fluttered shuttered for a few seconds as you focused on what you were doing, but when her hips pushed up and her fingers crushed yours, your eyes shot open in the whitest tone Wednesday ever saw. It was pure, magical, like the explosion of a supernova.

The fingers that touched her turned into a soft caress, your slicky lips kissing around her reddened cunt, patiently waiting for her to come down from her high.

Wednesday’s eyes were closed, the stars that once were in yours, now shone behind her closed lids. She never thought she’d be able to see the stars like that, with someone in between her legs, licking her clean.

“Are you okay?” You asked in a low-pitched tone, climbing her body with kisses.

“Is it always like that?” The Addams asked with a dry mouth, closing her legs as she still felt the spasms of her sensitive nerve. You laid next to her, chin resting on her shoulder.

You shrugged.

“It should be.” Your reply was simple. “Did you like it?”

“I can still see stars on the roof of your terribly decorated room. Yes, I did like it.”

“Good.” You let out a laugh, resting your face in the palm of your hand, while the other, once again moved on her inner thigh, finding its way in between the closed muscles. “Because we’re not done yet.”

#✍️#wednesday addams #woewriting #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x female reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams x gn reader #wednesday addams x female reader #jenna ortega #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x you #wednesday x gender neutral reader #wednesday x gn reader #wednesday addams x gender neutral reader

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arkadijxpancakes · 1 day ago

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There are a couple of angles you can take:

1) Remember that "No" is a full sentence. You can just decline, without elaborating further. As she is your friend, you might want to cushion it a little bit, but you don't have to give any reasoning for not wanting to watch that show. You could try to offer some alternative, too. (Example: "Hey friend, I know you are interested in that new HP series everyone is talking about. Personally, It's just not for me. Therefore, I won't watch it. How about we watch/play/read [other thing] instead?")

If she keeps pushing after that, just redirect her to your "No". If she refuses to accept your boundary, it might be time to reevaluate (parts of) that friendship.

The other angles kind of depend on who your friend is, what she does and doesn't know about Rowling and on what she values. If you want to discuss this with her, try to make it personal. If she is passionate about something (trans rights, workers rights, etc.) focus on that. Avoid arguments she isn't interested in/doesn't care about. You can mix and match as needed, but try to stick to one or two main arguments. (That way, it's easier to keep the discussion on track. It's easy to get sidetracked or derailed, if there are too many arguments floating around. It could also cause her to get overwhelmed - and someone who is overwhelmed is unlikely to listen.)

But lets look at the different angles:

2) Focus on Rowling and her bigotry. She has (and, in a lot of cases, still does):

spread misinformation about transness and trans people. She constantly tries to stir up moral panics about trans women in public bathrooms, prisons and sports.

refused to accept the results of scientific research. She is just as anti-science as many climate change deniers.

used ableist and infantilizing language against autistic people. (This usually boils down to the idea that autistic people do not understand how the world works and should not be allowed to make divisions about themselves and their own bodies.)

supported involuntary conversion therapy. (She also named one of her pseudonyms after Robert Galbraith Heath, a pioneer of conversion therapy. When called out on this, she refused knowing about Robert Galbraith Heath. Apparently, she just really likes the names Robert and Galbraith and had to mash them together without doing a quick google search. She did not change the pseudonym and is still publishing books under that name.)

used her wealth and reputation to influence British politics and lobby against trans rights. (For example, the right to self-ID and the right to trans inclusive healthcare.)

caused and participated in multiple harassment campaigns against women of color, by claiming they were men. One of her targets is Imane Khelif, a female boxer who participated in the Olympic Games 2024. Rowling targeted her, after she won a match against an Italian boxer. She also targeted Lin Yu-ting, another boxer.

She is on record for denying crimes committed by the Nazis. In particular, she called the fact that trans people were targeted by the Nazis as a "fever dream". When called out on this, she doubled down and tried to hide behind semantics. She also allowed literal Neo Nazis to support her on this. Note: When people talk about this, they often use the term "Holocaust Denial" - which it totally is. However, I would refrain from using that term, because it could allow your friend to derail the discussion by focussing on semantics instead of on what Rowling did. Many transphobes and Rowling apologists love to claim that it isn't Holocaust denial, because the Holocaust was about the genocide against Jews and trans people aren't Jews. They will also claim, that it isn't Holocaust denial, because she isn't denying that the Holocaust happened. You really don't want to get swamped with that bullshit, so don't say "Rowling has committed Holocaust denial." Instead, try to be specific. (Example: Rowling called the idea, that trans people were persecuted by the Nazis during the Third Reich, a "fewer dream". This includes her denying the fact that the Nazis raided the Insitut für Sexualwissenschaft and burned its library. (At that time, the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft was the leading research institution for gay, transgender and intersex topics.)

3) Focus on the bigotry in the books. The books just don't have aged well. If the series sticks to the books, there will be a lot of questionable stuff in there. This includes in no particular order:

The houself-plotline that Rowling introduces in Goblet of Fire depicts an enslaved fantasy species that loves working for their masters and sees payment as an insult. They also react with mental health issues and alcoholism, when freed. When Hermione starts to advocate for them, her activism is treated as a joke. Her contemporaries laugh at her, the house elves resent her and the lesson she learns from all of this is "They like it that way!"

There is no fucking progress. At the end of the books, the house elves are still enslaved, Hermione has stopped her activism and “All was well.”

The way, female characters are portrayed in the books, is pretty misogynistic. Firstly, there is just a lack of important female characters in general. (Most characters, especially when it comes to important characters, are male.) Secondly, the female characters that do exist, tend to fall into iffy tropes. Hermione and Ginny fall into the “not like other girls” trope. Adult female characters are often reduced to their roles as wives and mothers. Female characters, who perform femininity wrong, get criticized and condemned by the narrative. (This includes feminine characters who are too feminine, characters who are too masculine and characters who refuse to be good little wives and mothers. Examples are Fleur Delacour, Lavender Brown, Rita Skeeter, Dolores Umbridge and Bellatrix Lestrange.)

There is a lot of colonialist thinking in the books. You can see this in how characters from other countries get stereotyped a lot. It’s also reflected in the way non-wizards are treated.

The teaching methods that are depicted in the books are just awful. Most teachers we see, simply shouldn’t be put into a classroom full of kids. And it’s not just Snape, either. (At least, his teaching “skills” get criticized in the books.) McGonagall plays favorites, while pretending to be fair, Dumbledore regularly endangers the kids in his care (and it’s not just Harry either) and let’s not even try to talk about Hagrid.

There is a lot of fatphobia in the books. It’s mostly reserved for characters who are bad or evil. (Just look at how Dudley is treated, for example.)

There is a lot of ableism in the books.

There is a lot of black-and-white-thinking in the books. Stuff the good guys do, is usually depicted as good, Stuff the bad guys do, is usually depicted as bad and evil. Even if they do the same thing. (Snape or the Slytherins bully Neville? How could they! Outright evil, all of them! Harry or other good Gryffindor characters bully Neville? Oh, that’s just a little bit of fun and comic relief. No big deal.)

In addition the black-and-white-thinking, there is also a lot of mean-spiritedness in the books. On a fundamental level, most characters are pretty mean. And it’s not just the bad/evil characters, either. At times, Harry, Ron and Hermione are pretty mean to other characters and each other. As are good characters like McGonagall and Molly Weasley, and lovely old Hagrid is even worse. Then there are all the bullies on the Gryffindor-side of the good-vs-evil divide. (Mostly the Marauders, but also Fred and George.)

4) Focus on the series itself. It’s very likely, that this series will be nothing but a cash grab. You can point at Fantastic Beasts. It might have started with a pretty solid film, but after that the quality of the films fell down a steep cliff. The films got canceled after film 3. It is very likely that the TV series will suffer the same fate. Because it’s not about revisiting the books and making a high-quality series about them. There are already movie adaptations of the books and they are good enough and new enough. There is no need for another adaptation. So no, it’s not about making a good adaptation. Warner is simply trying to milk their cash cow.

If you are a marauders fan/ you support or are in the queer community then do Not watch the upcoming Harry Potter show! Do not support it! Do not interact with posts in support of it! We do not need anymore content from jkr! Buy the books second hand! Don’t buy official merch! Stop giving your money to her! Stop being transphobic!

Edit: I have a reply in the reblogs to those mentioning to pirate the show

#fuck jkr #harry potter #harry potter tv show #fuck that tv show

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tbyfandoms · 16 hours ago

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I Smell Snow | Joe Burrow x Reader

Pairing: joe burrow x f!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: the first cincinnati snowfall of the season leads to a night full of magic and love

Warnings: literally a single swear word if you can even call it that

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: my first ever published joe fic! this is literally such a self indulgent fic, I won’t lie. it spawned after I was standing outside and it started snowing and then the next day I watched ‘love actually’. plus couple that with my love for ‘gilmore girls’ quotes and needless to say, this is a big ball of fluff. even if it’s not the best fic, I love it, and I hope you all do as well :) <3

When you step outside into the crisp air, a smile breaks out across your face. The sky is a soft grey, a color you'd otherwise dread if not for the time of year, and the sight alone causes excitement to stir within you.

You've been waiting for this since the moment the temperatures started dropping. The weather is of course unpredictable and you can never truly trust what the weatherman says on the news, but you're sure of it this time. You'd swear up and down you could feel it coming.

It's going to snow.

The click of the handle turning on the patio door tears your eyes away from the sky, and instead of soft grey, your eyes are now met with a soft blue color. The color of your boyfriend's eyes. A color you could get lost in if given the opportunity.

"Hey," you say softly as Joe steps outside and tries to piece together in his head what it is that has your undivided attention out here. He got the pool covered months ago and all the furniture is tucked away into different corners of the patio. He doesn't see any deer or other animals out in the yard either. There's nothing of interest and yet Joe understands that knowing you, it's gotta be something, and the thought alone has him amused.

"Hey, baby. Whatcha doin' out here?" You shrug your shoulders a bit, a tinge of pink coating your cheeks due to something else entirely than the cold.

"I smell snow," you whisper. A phrase you've come to love and use religiously when it is that time of year. You know it might seem stupid to some people, but you genuinely feel like you can always tell when it's going to snow. Weather reporting it or not. It's s silly thing between you and your friends, but somehow you're never wrong.

When you first started dating Joe it was during the spring. The snow had long since melted and the chill in the air was long gone. You've mentioned in passing before your little inside joke, but never once have you said it to him before. Saying it out loud to him has you feeling a little silly, but the look on his face quickly extinguishes it.

Joe's eyes are crinkled at the corners, his smile taking up half his face, and his perfect white teeth are on full display as a deep chuckle escapes him.

"Do you now?" The Bengals quarterback teases as he takes a few more steps towards you. As he does so, you bask in the sight of him. Your boyfriend looks so cute and cosy in his hoodie, sweatpants, and beanie. All Bengals branded, of course. Joe Burrow is nothing if not proud of his city and his team. You feel the same about him and all he's accomplished.

"I do, Burrow. And the minute that first snowflake hits the ground, I'll be telling you I told you so." You nod your head in finality before lightly giggling and turning your head back up to the sky.

Joe gazes fondly at you as he takes in every inch of your body. There you are, this beautiful girl standing before him, not having a care in the world besides knowing whether or not it's going to snow. He thinks you're ridiculous in the most loving way possible, and that's when it hits him. That's what this is; love.

The two of you have only been dating for just under a year, but the Cincinnati resident has never been more sure about anything else in his life (besides maybe football) than he is about how he feels for you. About how seriously he cares for you and wants you in his life for years to come.

Joe Burrow is completely and utterly in love with you.

A sharp intake of breath leaves the man's lips, but it's mixed in with yours as you gasp up at the sky and watch as a single snowflake drifts slowly towards your face. At first it's just one and then suddenly it's dozens of little flakes flurrying around you.

A bemused laugh shakes your body and you nearly squeal at the sight. There's always been something so magical about snow to you. You don't know whether it's the nostalgic child-like wonder and excitement of it all or if it's something else entirely, but you've never quite been able to shake it. You're not sure you'd ever want to, really.

"Joe," you start, awe completely evident in your tone as you lightly flit your eyes to your boyfriend and then back to the sky. "Look at this! It's so pretty, I can't believe I was—"

"I love you." The blonde's confession slices through the air and suddenly it feels like nothing else matters in this moment, not even the snow you were so desperate to see because—

"What?" You question, wondering if you just imagined what Joe had said. Surely you misheard him, but part of you hopes to God you didn't.

"I love the way you care so deeply for everyone. I love the way you support me and my career completely and yet still keep that fierce independence and confidence in yourself and your own career. I love that you don't let anyone or anything get in the way of your dreams, but yet you still stay kind through it all. I love the way you've accepted me and all my stubbornness no matter how irritating it may be at times. I love how smart, funny, beautiful, and a million other adjectives I could continue to list, you are." A laugh slips past your lips and it's in this moment you realize tears have begun to trickle down your cheeks, mingling with the soft snowflakes that have landed there. "But most importantly, I love you, Y/N. Completely and unconditionally, I am in love with you. And I know we haven't been together for that long, but I'm hoping that just maybe you feel the same."

Wasting no time, you practically jump the few feet it takes you to reach your boyfriend and immediately wrap your arms around his neck, his warmth engulfing you instantly as he holds onto you.

"I love you too, Joey," you smile as you pull back and lock eyes with those pale blues from earlier. As the sky begins to darken, you revel in the way his eyes shine as they reflect the patio lights. You'd debate with anyone that Joe's eyes rival the stars themselves. He'd definitely say the same about yours.

A beat passes, the two of you so wrapped in each other's presence and revelations that most definitely have now altered the courses of your lives. The thought of falling so deeply in love with someone the way you have with Joe both terrifies and excites you, and all you know for sure is that you're in this for as long as he'll have you. Something tells you though that that's going to be a very long time, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

Joe reaches up and cups your cheek in his palm, his thumb swiping over your cheekbone and brushing away a few snowflakes that have settled there. It doesn't take long for him to lean in. Dying to connect his lips with yours and craving the way you taste.

His lips mold perfectly with yours, the way they have for all these months and the way you're sure they will for months to come. As the first Cincinnati snow of the season continues to fall, you smile into Joe's mouth as you feel the flakes begin to melt between you. The warmth of your lips fighting off any of the cold trying to reach you.

You're sure you'll feel the effects of ice cold water seeping into your skin later, but right now all you can focus on is the man before you and how happy you are to have found him.

Joe pulls back and you nearly giggle at the sight of him. The tip of his nose and his cheeks are a bright pink, and you're sure if he wasn't wearing his hat that his ears would appear the same. Even though he looks like the happiest man alive right now, you can tell he's cold. Although you can admire the snow for how it looks and how it makes you feel inside, it doesn't always make you feel the greatest on the outside, especially after a long period of time.

You decide now is a good a time as any to head back inside. You're confident the first fall of snow lived up to all the hype and then some.

"C'mon, let's go inside and warm up. I think I've had enough of the snow...for now," you chuckle.

"Thank God," Joe breathes out before bringing his hands up and rubbing them together, trying to create some warmth between them. "I know you love this stuff, but I won't lie, I'm freezing my ass off."

The two of you laugh as Joe leads you back inside through the patio door. The familiar click of the door handle echoes behind you and you hum in satisfaction as the cold gets shut out and the warmth of Joe's house welcomes you with open arms.

"Hey, freezing or not, you have to admit the snow is pretty magical." Joe watches as you begin to take off your jacket, a bit of snow that clung to you falling to the ground. Some of it is still in your hair, slowly melting away, but the sight of it makes his heart swell. The snow glistens, almost sparkles, and all it does is add to your beauty in his eyes. You're so blissfully unaware of it all too, and it only makes Joe fall for you that much more.

"I think I'm gonna have to agree with you on that one, sweetheart," he replies, genuinely believing it.

Magic snow powers or not, Joe adored seeing you in awe like that tonight. He can't wait for many more instances like it, and who knows? Maybe during next year's first snowfall, he might be on one knee, confessing his love for you in a different way.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fan fic

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nocturnalfandomartist · 1 day ago

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.⋆｡ﾟ Art vs Artist 2024! ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Click for better quality!

It's my first time doing art vs artist, but I thought it'd be a nice opportunity to see how it looks! My style has been so inconsistent this year (thanks multiple style crises), but I am proud of a few pieces. Mostly. I seem to use similar techniques and colors a lot, but I guess that's the point of an art style anyway. Everything up here is cropped a bit since I don't draw at a 1:1 ratio usually. If this is your first time seeing my work, I love The Legend of Zelda and Zelink!

Thanks for another fun year of art! ^^ Some stats below:

#1 | 1,943 notes | June 18, 2024

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༺ Top 10 posts by notes!

I remember drawing this on the announcement day, within a few hours! It's my first post to surpass 1k!

My second post to surpass 1k!

#2 | 1,197 notes | June 22, 2024

#3 | 694 notes | July 27, 2024

...trends work

i need to repost this with type instead of handwriting

#4 | 572 notes | August 3, 2024

I want to redraw this one, even if it's not very canon

#5 | 546 notes | July 28, 2024

#6 | 528 notes | August 5, 2024

I will continue to change how I draw her

#7 | 456 notes | Setember 19, 2024

I tried a slightly different look here, I think it's kinda cute!

A tie!

#8 | 456 notes | June 19, 2024

Two pieces are in this post! I love Classic Zelink, so I was trying to figure out how I wanted to draw them. :) I have a lot of drawings of them to come...

#9 | 355 notes | June 9, 2024

I've really been trying to figure out how I want to do backgrounds on my doodle pages. And how to draw TP Zelda properly. Still haven't figured either out, if you're wondering.

#10 | 353 notes | May 18, 2024

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

So much from EoW... I jumped on that hype so fast, it's the Zelda game I've only ever dreamed about!! ♡ Still kind of surprised nothing from Linktober is up here, though, considering it was all the better stuff. ^^" There are a few pieces I never finished this year, also... maybe 2025 will be their year!

▪︎ • ▪︎ • ▪︎ • ▪︎ • ▪︎ • ▪︎ • ▪︎ • ▪︎ • ▪︎ • ▪︎ • ▪︎ •

Small announcement - I got a private commission I'm working on at the moment, but soon they will be entirely open again! I do character art and designs if you're interested! ^^

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

✦ Ko-Fi | ✧ Ao3 | ⟡ Bluesky

REBLOGGING IS ENCOURAGED, BUT DO NOT REPOST.

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sadiecoocoo · 2 days ago

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Hazel, Sweet and Dynamic Chp. 3 - Arcane Fanfiction

Summary - As Jayce spends more time trying to find a way home, Viktor grows bitter with neglect

Chp. Word Count - 2927

Total Word Count - 8,907

Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Chapter 1

Notes: I definitely tried a bit of a different writing style with this one, but I'm really proud of it! originally this chp was going to be longer, but I decided where i left it off would be a better cut-off point anyways, enjoy :)

Every few nights, Jayce cried, and Viktor held him silently. He didn’t mind.

He never shushed him, or told him things were okay, because they truly weren’t. It didn’t help to be given false platitudes just so he could feel better in the moment.

Jayce would refind his optimism anyway. He didn’t need Viktor to tell him to chin up. He just needed Viktor to be there.

He held him silently, rubbing his back and resting his chin in Jayce’s hair.

That was usually how they fell asleep. Jayce would be as pressed against him as much as he possibly could be, and Viktor would welcome it gladly.

Every morning that he woke up with Jayce in his arms, and Jayce holding him tightly in turn, was the start of a good morning.

He was honestly starting to think that he’d be okay with this. If they didn’t find their way home, they’d at least have each other. Their only worries would be finding scraps and cooking bad food.

He knew Jayce would never give up, he left too much behind to be content with what they had now. Caitlyn, Vi, Mel, and his mother were out there somewhere, and he could never leave his mother alone.

Viktor didn’t have anyone left, only Jayce. He would be content with him, so he would follow him wherever he went.

He would work on trying to find a way back home, write equation after equation. He would go as far as the bridges and gather as many supplies as he could, watching as more and more husks seemed to follow his movements. He would make sure Jayce understood how to treat his injured leg, how to not make anything worse.

It was dark outside now, there weren’t anymore neon chemlights to brighten the night. If he looked out the boarded up window, he wouldn’t see a thing.

He supposed it made it easier to sleep. At least it should have. He could almost forget that there were the husks just outside. He could almost forget about the one that reached towards him when he walked past it.

He hadn’t told Jayce. He didn’t plan to. The man had enough worries already, and this should be something Viktor can handle himself.

It had only happened once, but the feeling of cold, lifeless fingers grabbing onto his arm haunted him. It had been forceful, and he had to pry himself away. They left indents in his strange purple skin that looked just a shade darker for a day or two.

He had abandoned the box of supplies he had found, leaving it to clatter against the ground. He only had half the mind to not barge into the house and worry Jayce.

Viktor ended up spending about an hour sitting out in the alley they had been in before, the two husks clutching onto each other his only company. He stared again at the burst of muted colors traveling up the walls like a disease. His panic had bled way to disdain after glaring at it long enough.

He knew Jayce suspected something was wrong by the time he got back. He had asked, but Viktor only shrugged him off with a half-baked excuse. He didn’t push anyway, just waited for Viktor to open up, even though he never did.

Now the two of them were curled up next to each other. Jayce’s light snores were the only sound aside from the occasional rustling of the covers.

No matter how hard he tried, Viktor couldn’t sleep. It was getting colder every day, and they were well into the winter months. It had even snowed a couple of times.

Their blanket wasn’t cutting it anymore for keeping them warm. Jayce managed fine, he had always run hot, but Viktor felt the cold chilling him down to the bone.

It was still foreign and overwhelming. The involuntary shivers racketing his body felt forceful. The way goosebumps rose along his strangely colored flesh felt wrong.

And Jayce treated it like it was normal. To him, it was. Viktor, despite how guilty it made him, resented him for it.

Beside him, Jayce burrowed himself into the covers more. He pressed his face against Viktor’s neck. The other man swallowed the lump forming his throat.

He would never get used to how easily Jayce showed his affections. It felt unfair, like he didn’t deserve it. Because despite all of Jayce’s insistences that he did, Viktor really didn’t deserve it.

Everything just seemed wrong now. He didn’t deserve any of the little peace they had found here. He didn’t deserve getting to enjoy his mostly fixed body, with his only aches being when he slept wrong. He didn't deserve Jayce.

Even so, being from the undercity, Viktor learned to take what he didn’t deserve. He hadn’t deserved to go to the academy, he hadn’t worked harder than any of the other kids that had dreamed of it.

So he would take. He would crave what little he had. He would do anything to keep it.

Viktor pressed himself closer to Jayce, resting his chin in the other man’s hair.

There was a husk standing right outside the alleyway. Viktor stared at its blank face. Its head was tilted ever so slightly to the side.

This one seemed different than all the others. It was a marionette, not a husk. It had a crown-like halo behind its head.

Viktor thought of the first person he had healed, the shimmer addict that held a knife to him and cried about how he was sorry to be trying to mug Viktor.

That man was standing before him now. Changed into something that would be unrecognizable to anyone else.

It hadn’t moved anymore than it already had, but it blocked the entrance to the alley way, trapping Viktor inside for reasons unknown.

He wasn’t sure if the marionettes were a threat or not. He had been able to control them, he might still be able to if he really tried.

He didn’t want to try. He would be happy to abandon that power and forget it ever existed.

The marionette tilted its head to the other side, almost like it was working out a crick in its neck. He heard the jangling of metal as it moved.

Viktor took a step back, closer to the entrance to their shelter.

It took a step forward.

He froze. It did too. It was mimicking him, trying to intimidate him. He took in a shaky breath.

His throat was dry with apprehension. It could get inside, they didn’t have a real door, just a curtain. It could get inside and attack them. It could get to Jayce.

It could ruin everything if Viktor didn’t find a way to stop it. He couldn’t let any of those things touch Jayce ever again.

He took a step towards it, his fists clenched at his sides.

It took a step back. He willed it to.

When Viktor came back, it was empty handed.

Jayce had been working away at their theories again. He turned and the evident disappointment in his eyes hurt Viktor. He had been expecting new parts that they could use, and Viktor failed to deliver.

“Sorry,” He muttered, fighting to relax his clenched fists. He hadn’t relaxed since he had left.

“No, it’s alright,” Jayce assured, “I can’t expect a treasure hoard every day.” He smiled lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He looked tired.

He heard walking outside. It was the sound of metal clanking against the ground in the rhythm of footsteps.

He stared at the boarded up window, not seeing a thing through the shadows of the night.

Then there was a small glimmer of light as it passed the window. It stayed there for too long to be coincidental.

“Leave us alone,” he whispered. Then the light moved, and the clanking footsteps got quieter and quieter.

It was there again. Viktor only stared at it for a second before moving to walk past it.

It turned its head to watch his movements as he passed. It moved no further into the alleyway.

He would not let it.

He found nothing again. They had bled the sumps dry of useful supplies. He would have to start going further. Maybe he would have to go to Piltover soon.

The thought made him shudder. A sense of apprehension flowed through him. There was something telling him that he should not go there without Jayce, but at the same time he didn’t want Jayce there either.

He couldn’t risk putting him in danger. If he saw that the marionettes were moving, he could panic. He could get hurt. Viktor would not allow that to happen.

Said man was once again at the chalkboard, muttering to himself as he looked over the same notes he did every day. He was getting obsessive with it.

Viktor tried to tell himself that that was simply what they did. They worked and worked and worked until they collapsed or found a solution.

He thought Jayce couldn’t afford to collapse. Dark bruises became more prominent under his eyes every day, and he adjusted his weight off his bad leg more often than he used to.

“You should get a cane.” Viktor blurted, trying to use a tone that said it wasn’t a suggestion.

Jayce only glanced at him before shrugging. He crossed something off on the chalkboard with a loud scrape.

Viktor frowned. He walked up behind Jayce and peeked over his shoulder. The chalkboard seemed even more a mess than it did the day before.

“Let’s take a break, we need to eat.” Viktor said. He raised his hand to Jayce’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“No, I’m alright.” He answered, waving his hand dismissively. He tapped the walk against his chin, leaving a small white mark.

Viktor scrunched his nose in annoyance. If this was how Jayce felt all the times he couldn’t get Viktor away from the lab, he was starting to understand how frustrated he would get at times.

“Jayce,” Viktor said again, “go eat.” He ordered.

Jayce looked at him then, truly looked. It wasn’t dismissive, his mind wasn’t elsewhere. He finally looked.

And Viktor saw that he looked tired. Weary. His chest ached as Jayce looked at him. Those beautiful hazel eyes looked dull. It brought a scowl to his face. They weren’t supposed to be that way. They were supposed to be vibrant, to contrast all the muted colors that snaked around buildings and objects and corrupted everything else in this world.

“Alright,” Jayce said quietly. He glanced at the board again, his lips pursed as he didn’t want to leave it. It would be there an hour from now, Jayce was worried over nothing.

They ate silently. Viktor stole tentative glances at his partner, he watched the way he chewed slowly, like he was physically forcing himself to. He watched as Jayce stared into his stew sadly, like it had kicked a puppy in front of him.

It made Viktor angry. He didn’t know why. He felt like Jayce didn’t have the right to look so miserable. They had a good life now, no longer under the thumb of the council and no longer standing under the guillotine that was Viktor’s sickness.

Jayce didn’t have the right to be so upset anymore. It had been his choice to stay with Viktor in the first place, even though he had asked him to leave. It wasn’t fair that Jayce was leaving him now.

The thought left a bad taste in his mouth, worse than the food that still tasted like sump water. He almost apologized to Jayce, even though he had no idea what Viktor had been thinking.

That night Viktor held onto Jayce just a little tighter, like if he didn’t, he wouldn’t wake up by his side.

The lightbulb died yesterday. Sputtering once with a final flicker of fight, then flushed them into darkness like an omen.

“Why do you care so much about going back?” Viktor hadn’t meant to say it. He hasn’t meant for it to sound so bitter, so cruel. At the same time, he was glad it was up in the air, instead of simmering in his mind.

“What?” Jayce asked, turning fully to look at him. It wasn’t a side eye, or a quick glance. He looked, finally looked.

And he looked hurt.

“Why do you care,” Viktor asked again, unable to stop now that he had started. Jayce had just given him an out, a way to avoid a grievous mistake, and he ignored it. “There’s nothing left for us there!” He gestured with his hands.

Jayce blinked.

“Are you joking?” He asked. It sounded so condescending that Viktor had to fight the urge to kick the cane from Jayce’s hands. The cane that he had only just gotten Jayce to finally use.

“Does it look like I am?” He asked rhetorically. He finally stood, putting the two at equal height. Jayce had to be slightly hunched to actually put his weight on the cane.

“Don’t do this,” Jayce warned. And oh, if only Viktor heeded his warning. If only Viktor had learned to listen to Jayce when he was giving a warning. He thought he should have learned after he almost destroyed the world. He thought.

“If we go back, there’ll be nothing for us but glares. We’ll get no rewards, hell we might be sent to Stillwater!” He continued. He knew that wasn’t true. Jayce would get awards. Jayce could get a holiday after him if he really wanted it. It was difficult to talk about them without using “we,” though.

“You don’t know that!” Jayce insisted. He slammed the chalk onto the rim of the board, louder than he meant to. Or maybe he did mean to, and it just didn’t work at intimidating Viktor. “Mel would-“

That was what did it. That was what cut the line and made him snap.

“Of course, you’re doing this to see Mel!” He spat her name like a curse, tired of the woman that he felt took everything from him, “you just want to go back to her and leave your genocidal partner to rot!?” He screamed.

“No!” Jayce spluttered, he waved his hands wildly as he spoke, “no- I could care less-“

“I know what you did with her!” He interrupted, “I know that when I collapsed in the lab and was on my deathbed you had been sleeping with her! I know that when I was being transformed into the monster that I am now you went to her! I know-“

“I just want to see my mom!” Jayce screamed. Viktor stared, breathing hard. Jayce was crying. “I want to get away from this dead place that only serves to remind me of the months I spent rotting at the bottom of a fissure!”

He was crying, and he didn’t go to Viktor for comfort, not like last time, not like the countless other nights that he had. He shied away when Viktor reached a hand towards him. He scowled and looked to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides.

“I’m not gonna let anyone do anything to you if we find a way home.” Jayce continued, much quieter than before, but much more determined to make Viktor listen. He almost preferred the yelling. The yelling didn’t make him feel like a bad person. The yelled made him feel like they were both bad.

“I don’t care what you think I’m not gonna let you go to Stillwater, or get exiled, or- I don’t know!” He threw his hands up in the air.

“I know I messed up before, and I know I’m not being the best right now,” his voice was shaking, “but you don’t have anyone you left behind, and I miss my family.” He finished with a broken sob.

“You never should have stayed.” Viktor muttered. He was eternally grateful to Jayce for staying, but now it was causing them more pain than if he had let Viktor die alone. It was causing Jayce pain.

Sometimes I wish I hadn’t. Jayce didn’t say it. He didn’t go that far. Viktor could see it on the tip of his tongue, see it in the way he looked to the ground and started scratching at his wrist.

Viktor was out the door hardly a second later. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t watch Jayce break down because of him. He couldn’t be the one to keep hurting him. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't.

Viktor didn’t turn back when Jayce called after him, because he didn’t sound mad anymore. He sounded broken. He sounded as broken as Viktor had felt all those years he worked beside someone who seemed implausibly perfect, and Viktor could never handle himself at his worst like Jayce had.

So Viktor walked away. He walked away like he always found some way to do. He walked away like he had when he found out what the Doctor did to Rio. He walked away like he did from the undercity. He walked away like he did with Heimerdinger. He walked away like the day he muttered something useless about affection as an excuse.

He walked. He didn’t hear the tell tale signs of footsteps behind him. He didn’t know if that made him hurt more or not.

End Notes: yippee cliff hanger also I have decided that this fic will have whump, but it's going to be minor

I also would like to say that the mention of Mel was not at all me being personally mad at her about that, I honestly love Meljay and Meljayvik, I just thought that since Viktor and Jayce are both tense and worried about a lot of things it’d be an easy way to set Viktor off (because bffr who wouldn’t be jealous of Mel) anyway, I always appreciate comments <3 (please someone talk to me about the symbolism and foreshadowing I added please I'm begging you)

if anyone would like to be tagged for updates please lmk, I'd be happy to do it!

#arcane #jayce talis #viktor arcane #arcane fanfic #jayvik

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bambi-is-brainwashed · 16 hours ago

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Dum Dum - Sarah

Smart. Intelligent. Sharp. All words that summarized who Sarah perceived herself to be. Graduating at the top of her class, never taking her mind off of her studies or expanding her knowledge in some interest or area. Being a smart person, however, came with a lot of stress, a lot of pressure on Sarah to perform at her best at all times. After years of the intense, unrealistic expectations that Sarah tried to hold herself to, she neared her breaking point. Desperate, she looked to the internet to find a simple way to help relieve her stress. After over an hour of scouring many different sites and blowing through articles that only offered basic tips and tricks, Sarah finally found something promising. "Bambi Sleep" it was called. Audio files designed to help the listener relax and become their best self. Although skeptical, Sarah had little choice but to try it out, praying that these simple audios would solve her problems of stress. She opened the website and put on her headphones, taking a deep breath before pressing play. With a click of a button, her mind went dark.

Sarah blinked her eyes open, laying in her chair where she had been sitting before, except for a few major changes. For one, she was completely stripped naked, and her crotch and nipples displayed a strange wetness to them. Secondly, the time had jumped 8 hours ahead in the blink of an eye. Strangely, this leap in time didn't seem to frighten Sarah, who was much more focused on her body. Did she always look this good? Her breasts seemed much fuller, her hips wider and posture perfected, contrary to the slouched, arched position that she had adapted from the hours spent studying in her chair. It didn't even occur to Sarah that the audio was starting back up, the soft voices slowly sliding into her mind while she admired her body, before a command suddenly echoed through her head.

"Bambi sleep"

Another 8 hours lost to the audios, waking up once again wet, this time a bit more aroused. Sarah giggled a bit as she shook her tits, a bit bigger than before, at least she thought they were. Her breasts now had ballooned out to a D cup, and didn't show signs of stopping. Sarah couldn't come up with a logical solution for why this was happening. Matter of fact, she couldn't come up with a solution for anything. She had so much work to do! So much to learn, so much information to process! Before Sarah was unable to take off the headphones, the sounds started up again, freezing her in place, hands glued to her head, unable to move an inch. And with her trigger, she dropped back off into a deep slumber, unable to resist as she dropped off into trance.

Before long, it had been a whole week since Sarah had begun listening to her files. Her chest had grown to an F cup, and her hair had grown out, turning a platinum blonde color and lazily cascading down her enhanced body. She began to realize how difficult it was to think, unable to even piece together simple information in her fuzzy brain, always cloudy and light headed, a bit dumber. Yet, none of this bothered Sarah. Ever since she began listening to her files, Sarah's life had become so much less stressful. She didn't have to learn, she didn't have to perform, she didn't even need to think anymore. She could let the audio think for her, dropping her deep into soft bliss, sleepily collapsing into her chair every time the audio started up. Sarah didn't even notice the audios becoming more and more suggestive, conditioning her mind more and more, dropping her into even deeper levels of trance and all the while, softening up and draining her mind of all of her memories. All of her thoughts, all of her smarts that she held so close to her. Sarah was being transformed entirely, not only physically but mentally as well, impossible to even consider resistance while in trance as she happily listened, listening as her crotch became wet, her nipples shiny from the drool spilled down her front, rubbed in circles by her hands, a good puppet for Bambi. That's right, Bambi taking full control over Sarah's mind and body, locking in all conditioning and replacing all thoughts with Bambi's. Meanwhile, Sarah slept soundly, softly moaning as the brainwashing, yes the brainwashing, filled her up with fuzzy thoughts of mindlessness and arousal.

It had been about a month since beginning Bambi Sleep, and Sarah felt absolutely amazing. She had completely forgotten all of her studies, all of her smarts, instead replaced by a pink fog that encased her mind in a soft, pink warmth that instilled feelings of helplessness and obedience. Her brain was nearly incapable of thinking, feeling deep and dumb, Bambi's voice her sole source of thoughts, weak and docile without Bambi's influence and calming words. Sarah stared blankly into nothing, foggy eyes lidded under newly bought fake lashes and mascara while she repeated her mantras out loud.

"Bambi takes away my thoughts"

"Bambi thinks for me"

"Bambi makes me a good girl"

"Bambi makes me obedient"

"Bambi controls me completely"

Deep within Sarah, under the layers of conditioning that kept her mind vacant, her glazed eyes blankly staring, a final effort of resistance began to rise up. She had to fight! She couldn't let the brainwashing win, she had to resist. Sarah winced as she tried to fight her mantras, her now bimbofied pout contorting into a grimace as she fought against the brainwashing.

"You are a good girl"

"No, I am not a good girl!"

"Brainwashing makes you weak"

"Brainwash...brainwashing doesn't make me weak!"

"You aren't in control"

"I am...uh...i-in control..."

"Give in and let Bambi take control"

"G-give in?"

"You cannot resist your own mind"

"Ca-cannot...resist..."

"Let your mind slip, turn your brain off"

"Turn my brain off"

"Bambi does as she's told"

"Be a good girl. Bambi Sleep"

Sarah's last effort was completely extinguished as she collapsed limply, sinking into her chair and feeling her mind dissipate under the heavy, soft weight of her eyelids closing, thoughts replaced with Bambi's words and deep under hypnosis. So much pleasure, so much arousal Sarah felt as she dropped, being such as good girl while she listened, accepting all of her conditioning and submitting fully to Bambi. She was a good girl for Bambi, and Bambi controlled her completely. Sarah awoke, blissfully dumb, void of thought and happily dazed, like a good bimbo should. The old Sarah was gone, replaced by a bimbofied, conditioned version of herself helplessly controlled by Bambi, obedient and constantly horny throughout her day. She kept herself edged all the time, a total dum dum as her hand involuntarily pulls out of her wet pussy and sucks her fingers clean, drooling and dripping her thoughts out of her wet mouth. Her inflated lips stimulated at all times while she listened to her files, rubbing herself against anything she could find. Against her bed, against regular objects, using her vibrator to assist in the process of edging herself dumb. Vacant, foggy eyes, the eyes of a mindless bimbo, controlled by her brainwashing while she rubbed, helplessly addicted and furthering her addiction as her dependence on her arousal grew. Before long, Sarah wasn't just a good girl, completely hypnotized and controlled by Bambi, but she was also controlled deeply by her pussy. Her constantly wet, needy pussy, throbbing at every trigger and mantra, conditioned perfectly to become aroused when obeying Bambi's commands. Sarah wanted pleasure, to be dumb and drop deep into trance, and Bambi offered all of that to her, guiding her further into the mindless, dumb bliss that Sarah loved so dearly. What a good girl Sarah had become, feeling so good, so deep, so dumb, a fuzzy, blank bimbo mind, letting everything go as she sinks further, so thankful that Bambi could give her the bliss and happiness she was helplessly addicted to, like a good girl should be.

#bambi #bambi girl #bambi hypno #bambi sleep #bambification #bimbo babe #bimbo doll #bimbo girl #bimbo hypnosis

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nell0-0 · 9 months ago

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Mask will let the captain have this. Just this once. It wasn't just once.

Poor Mask kept falling to the ground. Luckily for him, either the captain or Tune are there to catch him

A continuation of THIS

Fun fact I didn't know until I started researching for this: apparently when someone looses an eye, it's possible that the other eye adapts. This is not good in the beginning as the remaining eye stops working for a while (???!). While long term it's not as noticeable (just less field of vision and some problems with depth perception sometimes) it's, uh... interesting :,D

Correct me if I'm wrong about this tho. I did my research, but sometimes there's misinformation out there so don't trust it 100% without checking it first.

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forecast0ctopus · 8 months ago

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i knwo a lot of people like the aos cadet and dress uniforms but i do Not and am actively trying to think up alternatives…… with tos kirk though lmao sorry

#anyways. tos kirk thiugh #ive never tried to draw this man younger until now. hm #star trek #captain kirk #james t kirk #also the into darkness grey ones theyre actually way worse than 2009 #like if we’re gonna stick with modern/current common cuts why not at least do something a little more different with the paneling or #color blocking or whatever #theres a tiny bit of interest w the paneling but over all just looks like if you took a japanese school uniform and westernized it and #made it worse #the all red is fun though ill give it that #the grey ones from into darkness have absolutely nothing going for them though #anyways of course costuming will always depend on the time period that it is made. but it looks sooo 2010 i mean this in a bad way #also whatever fabric was chosen for ghe red ones pisses me off idk #anyways i dunno anything about fashion. im just drawing things

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elvenbeard · 10 months ago

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Did some blorbo modding this past weekend and updated Vince's shoulder and back tattoos a little bit :3 still the same design overall with some minor tweaks in coloring etc, because while I liked my original idea, some things I'd been meaning to adjust forever. And now I finally got around to, and that warrants a topless photoshoot of course \o/

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #cyberpunk vp #cp2077 vp #cyberpunk photomode #vincent ezaki #my vp #still not quite there 100% but I'm happy with the new look for now :3 #changed some colors added texture #and with the back tattoo I changed the font to something a bit different and also adjusted some details #to have everything tie in a bit better #and very slightly changed his chest piece - just made the edges a bit less harsh - or tried to #but with that one I'm still so fucking happy XD and with how it aligns with the bullet necklace #next time I redo them it'll hopefully be for his NPV XD

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evilmagician430 · 2 years ago

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#dead body cw #zombie cw #i wanted him 2 look like he was rotting :3 it just seems fitting for him. i must practice this technique further #the way i drew the light from his computer bouncing off everything does look a bit odd but its um. stylized.#also hes blonde here just so the color scheme works better #i love putting references to random media i think he would like in the background of his room also. he has a gameclam #i tried handdrawing a halftone onto the posters so they blend into the background better but they might be a little too faded #idk you can tell what they are but it does look kind of weird like theyre holograms or something. i'll do it a different way next time #venturiantale #taleblr #spencer acachalla #images that are horrid to see and look at #mspaint #venturiantale fanart #in which the mighty spence spots a mouse in his room moments before catching and eating it

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the-piano · 4 months ago

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Diavlo and Furi

A remake !

Yay

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incognit0slut · 2 months ago

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Angel

PART 5 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Single Dad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader Spencer likes having you around to look after his daughter, in fact, he likes you a bit too much.

content: (18+) 5.4k, breeding kink, fingering, fem oral, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, d/s dynamic but he still tries to be a gentleman although reader doesn’t want him to, mutual pining, body worship with slight religious metaphors bc he’s down so bad, and of course sweet aftercare a/n: 1) i know the gif isn’t spencer but i just had to; 2) i changed the title from the original plan bc i was listening to angel baby while writing this; 3) if i have the chance to describe his happy trail and tummy i will in a heartbeat; 4) this fic is basically the epitome of D-I-L-F!

“I want you to understand,” he mutters against your skin, kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear, “that I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”

A hand creeps up the back of his neck. “What if I want you to?”

“I’m serious.”

“I am serious. I’m not the one hesitating.”

His hand glides slowly up your side, fingertips barely ghosting over your skin, and a soft, shaky breath escapes his lips. “I’m trying to be responsible."

“I think we’re past being responsible,” you counter as his fingers trace your waist. “What are you so worried about, anyway? You’re not forcing me into anything.”

“I want to make sure you don’t feel like—” his fingers twitch, lingering over your bare skin, “—like I’m taking advantage of the situation.”

“I’m literally naked under you,” you remind him. “If anyone’s taking advantage here, it’s me.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he exhales. “You’re making this really hard, you know that?”

“That’s kind of the point.”

And it’s true, Spencer realizes with a rush of heat, because he’s incredibly hard, the heavy length of his cock pressed against your stomach while he braces his weight above you. His lungs tighten, squeezing around breaths that feel too thick to swallow as his teeth graze his lower lip. It takes everything in him to keep from losing himself when his mind is already slipping.

How could he have ever imagined it would go this far?

Spencer can’t quite make sense of how this quiet, unassuming crush that crept in the first time he saw you with his daughter has led to this. It wasn’t anything grand or sudden, just this slow bloom that unfurled every time he caught you reading to Violet or laughing with her over some little joke in the living room. There was just something about the way you slipped so easily into his life, fitting into the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty until you filled them.

He’d never let himself imagine it would go beyond that. He’d convinced himself those feelings for you were just something he’d have to live with quietly, a small ache that would fade with time. But somehow, despite his best efforts to keep it hidden, you’d found your way to him. And against all his expectations, you liked him back. You like him enough that you’re now wearing nothing but a smile.

Flushed skin kissed by the moonlight spilling through the window.

Innocent eyes touched with a hint temptation.

It all feels like some sort of surreal dream.

The moment that led to this replays in his mind, clear as daylight even if it happened well past midnight. He’d gotten home somewhere between too late and way too late, running on nothing but caffeine and sugar, and there you were, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You started talking about your day with Violet, recounting how you’d taken her to the park, read her favorite book before bed, and how she’d peppered you with endless questions about why the sky changes colors when the day changes into night. But something was different in your voice, a softness to the way you said his name, and your gaze lingered on him just a beat longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing he could point to and say that’s it, but he felt it. An almost imperceptible shift in the air.

Before he knew it, he had crossed the room and kissed you. He should’ve thought it through or paused to consider the consequences, but the way you responded made it clear you’d been waiting just as long for his attention.

His shoulders fall with a quiet exhale.

“This could get complicated,” he continues, as if reminding you (and maybe himself) that there’s a line between employee and employer that he’s about to cross. A line that could change everything between you both once it’s blurred. “We should think about what this means.”

“We’ve had plenty of time to think. If you wanted to stop, you would’ve done it already.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Then please enlighten me.”

Instead of answering right away, he leans in, his lips finding the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, and then he’s gently pulling the tender flesh between his lips that draws a sudden moan from your throat. The sound seems to fuel him, and before you can even register what’s happening, his fingers are already slipping lower, exploring the soft space between your thighs.

“What if I want more than this?” His fingers inch closer, teasingly brushing against your heat with a slowness that borders on torment. “What if I want everything?”

Your hips buck against his hand. “Everything?”

“Everything,” he confirms. “Not just tonight.”

The words send a ripple of electricity that blooms deep in your core. When his fingers finally slip between your folds, a sharp gasp escapes your lips before you can hold it back.

“You… you mean you want… more than this? More than just us… here?”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice catching like gravel in his throat as his fingers trace over the slickness he’s found. “Does that scare you?”

For a moment, words fail you. The slow, coaxing rhythm of his fingers pulls you deeper into a haze where coherent thoughts are hard to grasp. There’s a pause, a heartbeat where he stops. Waiting.

“No,” you confess, the truth slipping out more easily than you expected. “It doesn’t.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “It doesn’t?”

Your lungs expand, filling with a rush of oxygen and a nervous flutter that lands somewhere in the pit of your stomach. “I think this is the right time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

Spencer stays motionless for a beat. Then something shifts—his gaze softens, and a small, almost incredulous smile curves his lips. “You have a crush on me?”

“Yeah.”

“As in… you have feelings for me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So you’re not just… turned on right now?”

“Well, that too,” you admit with a grin, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. “But it’s more than that. I really like you.”

His smile widens, and his fingers begin to move again, circling your clit with just the right pressure to pull a sharp intake of breath from you. It’s as though your confession is a final green light he’d been waiting for. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your teeth catch your lip, struggling to hold back fragments of breath. “I thought it was obvious,” you manage between heavy exhales. “Why do you think I always stay late?"

"To avoid traffic?"

You huff. "I tried to be around you as much as possible, Spencer."

His fingers toy at the edge of your entrance, tracing the slick, warm wetness that clings to his skin as a quiet hum rumbles in his chest. “You know I’m not always the best at picking up social cues.”

“You’re a profiler.” Your breath catches halfway between a gasp and a sigh when he slides a finger in. “You're supposed to notice everything."

He lets your words settle, eyes narrowing slightly as he turns them over in his mind.

“I guess I was too focused on trying not to cross any lines to see the ones you were trying to draw."

A soft moan escapes your lips as another finger slides in.

“I'm… glad you finally caught on."

"I'm catching on now.”

His eyes drop to the way your body greedily takes his fingers. The sight alone sends a rush of heat straight to his gut like a line of fire winding up through his chest and spreading into his limbs. You’re dripping, the slick sound of your arousal nearly derails him as he continues to watch the wetness coat his fingers with every slow thrust.

“Since when have you had this crush?” He asks curiously.

There’s a beat of silence, only punctuated by the soft, breathy noises escaping you. When he finally looks up, he catches the way your face scrunches in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes barely open, and he can’t help but find it almost unbearably adorable. The corners of his lips twitch with a quiet laugh before he leans in, pressing the softest it’s okay, you can tell me kiss against your lips.

“Since when?”

You blink your eyes open at his question, and there’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Since—” you start, but your voice catches when he curls his fingers slightly, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a barely-contained grin.

“Since?” he prompts again.

You swallow the lump tightening in your throat. “Since you interviewed me for the job."

He absorbs your words. "That’s… more than a while."

"It was innocent at the time," you confess, trying to regain some control over your thoughts. "Just a silly little crush."

His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, and whatever sense of composure you had left is slipping away piece by piece. “What changed?”

Desperation claws at you with every passing second, your hips moving against his hand as you scramble to gather your thoughts. But the way his fingers are mapping every sensitive spot makes it nearly impossible to articulate anything coherent. He doesn’t miss the way your breath stutters, or how your words break apart into fragmented attempts to answer.

“I-I—” you stammer, wincing as the words catch in your throat before you finally manage to continue, “I probably shouldn’t say…”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing."

He lets out a soft laugh. “Tell me anyway,” he urges. “I want to hear it.”

You fall quiet again, and the only sounds that fill the space between you is the ragged pull of your breaths and the slick rhythm of his fingers pumping lazily inside you. The words sit heavy on your tongue, threatening to disappear if you don’t say them quickly enough.

"Remember when… you taught Violet how to… ride her bike?”

He tilts his head slightly. There’s a furrow in his brow as he searches your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, there were a lot of lessons.”

“The very first time.”

“Ah,” he muses. “Around June, then.”

You nod. “When I… saw you with her that day, I-I… I got curious.”

His fingers falter, just slightly, the subtle pause enough to show that you’ve grabbed his attention. “Curious?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You were so adorable with her… and I started thinking about what it would be like… to have your kids.”

If there was ever a moment to leave him utterly speechless, this was it. His brain seems to stall, the gears grinding to a halt as the reality of what you’ve said settles in. He’s spent so much time trying to be the one holding it all together, but now? Now all he could picture was you holding a baby—his baby—and the thought sent his mind reeling, knocking him off balance in a way he didn’t expect.

“You… thought about that?”

Your fingers trails his shoulder before slipping up into his hair, curling gently at the nape of his neck. “It crossed my mind more than once.”

“That’s—” wow. He leans his forehead against yours. “Not embarrassing. At all.”

“Really?”

“That’s probably the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life.”

You let out a soft chuckle, gently pulling on his curls before drawing his bottom lip into a gentle suck. “It’s never been innocent since then.”

Goosebumps rises along his skin, and the heat pooling low in his stomach tightens as he grows impossibly harder. “Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time.”

His jaw clenches.

He’s so close to completely losing it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper inside you.

“Why.. why not?”

“Because I might give you exactly what you want.” When he feels you clench around him, he huffs in amusement. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

There’s a tender spot he finds deep inside, one that feels achingly sensitive, and your mouth falls open, a soundless gasp escaping before you can catch it.

“You really mean it,” he says, more a realization than a question, as he watches your body go pliant beneath his touch.

“I do,” you manage to say.

“You want me that way?”

You nod frantically. “Want your cum in me.”

The second those words leave your lips, his groan rumbles through his chest, and you swallow it down as his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and tongues tangling in a chaotic rhythm that’s both desperate and needy. When he finally pulls away, you’re left panting, your lips swollen, his forehead resting against yours.

“Never would’ve guessed you had such a dirty mouth."

"There's a lot of thing you don't know about me."

His breath brushes against your lips as he whispers, “I’m starting to figure that out.”

When he slowly withdraws his fingers, you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your throat. Your eyes follow his every move as he sits up and settles between your thighs. You’ve always thought Spencer was an attractive man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t admired the way his shirts fit just snug enough to hint at what was underneath. But seeing him naked like this? That was a whole new level of breathtaking.

Your gaze trails down his frame, landing on the soft curve of his stomach, something you'd secretly adored every time it pressed against his dress shirts. It was even more captivating without anything hiding it now, especially with the trail of dark hair leading down. Soft, scattered strands, drawing your eyes right to the place where you can’t help but stare.

He gives himself a slow pump. Once. Twice. And then, finally, you feel the firm pressure of his tip pressing between your folds.

“Are you sure?” he asks, the head of his cock sliding over your sensitive skin. “There's a condom in my drawer."

Your body tenses at the thought of him pulling back, and without thinking, your hand reaches between the two of you, wrapping around his cock before he can pull away. “When was the last time you got tested?”

He exhales sharply. “A few months ago,” he mutters, hips twitching against your grip despite himself. “If there was any risk, I wouldn’t even consider this without telling you.”

“I got tested last month,” you assure him quickly. “We’re both safe.”

He nods absentmindedly. “We can… still grab the condom if you want…”

“Spencer,” you interrupt, gently brushing the bead of precum that had formed at his tip. “I thought I made it clear I want you to cum inside me.”

He can only stare as your delicate finger trails along the thick vein. It feels like all the oxygen he’s desperately clinging to has been sucked from his lungs.

“I know you said you don’t want to take advantage of me…” you continue, guiding him right to your entrance. “But I really want you to.”

He finally lets out a low, gruff sound, something between a growl and a sigh as he slowly pushes himself in. His eyes are locked on the sight of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, watching as your body struggles to take him.

"You should stop talking like that," he rasps through gritted teeth. "I’m barely holding it together."

"Here's another thing you should know about me.”

He ruts gently into you. A push. A pull.

A heartbeat in between.

“I really like it rough."

That’s all it takes.

He slams his hips into yours.

Intense doesn’t even begin to describe what he feels. It’s more like a surge, a rush of heat and desperation that floods every inch of him the same time you cry out. His throat tightens, constricting around breaths he can’t seem to catch as he resorts to inhaling sharply through his nose.

“Jesus… you feel so—” His words falter, his voice rough and breathless as his fingers figs into your skin. His chest rises and falls with each labored breaths, and his eyes squeezes shut for a moment.

Tight. Warm. Wet. That’s exactly how you feel.

"Perfect." His large hands grips your waist. “You’re perfect.”

You mewl at his words, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it, and the soft, needy noise is enough to make his eyes flicker open. He begins to pull back, just enough to make you whimper from the sudden loss of contact, but before you can catch your breath, he snaps his hips forward with a rough, powerful thrust.

Your hands fly to his arms, holding onto him tightly. "Spencer… Please…”

He lets out a sigh.

No man is immune to that tone of desperation, least of all Spencer. Not when you’re offering yourself to him like something out of a dream. Not when your eyes lock onto his with a look that belongs more to an angel—if angels could be so helpless and desperate. Because what angel pleads with every breath for more?

What angel cries out as he holds your hips firmly in place and thrusts with a force that drives you to the brink of sanity?

He’s mesmerized. His eyes track the way your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. There’s something almost greedy in the way his gaze roams over you, but it’s when he locks onto where your bodies meet that he really loses himself. A glossy ring coats his cock each time he pulls out, and when he pushes back in, the friction between your bodies creates a lewd, wet sound that fills the room.

He laughs. Not out of mockery, but out of sheer delight.

You’re an angel wrapped in sin.

“I can’t—oh god, right there—” Your nails leave little crescents moon on his skin. “You’re so… so deep.”

You’re really testing his limits, and Spencer knows he’s very far from a violent man, but right now, the temptation to cover your mouth with his hand is becoming dangerously real. Although with the way you’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, he’s sure you’d probably enjoy it.

“Spencer…”

His balls slaps your ass as he slams into you.

“O-Oh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He squeezes your waist tightly. “Already?”

“Ngh.”

Your grip loosens on his arm, and before he can fully process what’s happening, your fingers dance along your clit. It takes all his willpower not to spill into you right then and there when he feels you tighten around him in response. But he holds on, because he needs you to cum first. He needs to feel your velvety walls flutter along the rigid veins of his cock, needs to watch the way your body tenses with pleasure.

He needs to feel it more than once.

He lets you have your first orgasm. Although letting seems like the wrong word. There’s nothing passive about it. He’s making you cum, driving you to it with each calculated thrust. You’re toying with your clit, rubbing in frantic circles just like you do whenever you touch yourself with the thought of him, but this time, it’s even more intense. This time, he’s inside you. And this time, it takes only a few moments for the tension to snap.

You clamp down on him. Hard. So hard that his movement falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, thrusting into you with a relentless rhythm. Just as you start to catch your breath, he pulls out, and you’re left in that delicious, dizzy haze, but your mind is even more disoriented when his face suddenly lowers between your thighs.

“Oh, you’re gonna—” you moan as his shoulders nudge your legs apart, opening you wider for him. “Spencer, you don’t have to—”

Before you can finish, before you even take another breath, the tip of his tongue flicks out.

“I want to.”

And he means it. He dives in with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt. His tongue starts firm and flat, pressing against you before dragging slowly upward, gathering your slickness in one deliberate sweep. Then he changes rhythm, the broad strokes shifting into something more focused, alternating between gentle flicks and deep, hungry pulls, and it’s doing things to you that no amount of late-night fantasies could have prepared you for.

Your head is all over the place that you reach out blindly, trying to find something solid, but the air merely glides over your skin. You stretch for the edge of the bed, fingertips just skimming the surface before your arms flail helplessly in the empty space. He notices your struggle almost immediately, and without missing a beat, he pulls back, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Here,” he says, reaching out his arms toward you. “Give me your hands.”

Gladly. The second your fingers lock with his, a sense of grounding floods you, though it does nothing to ease the intensity of what he’s doing. If anything, it sharpens. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders flex under your thighs as he positions himself. And sure, your legs somehow feel weightless, like they’re floating in the air, but the rest of you?

You’re a mess of nerve endings on fire.

It’s impossible to think clearly when every cell in your body is buzzing. Your thoughts scatter the second his mouth moves in that devastating way, driving you out of your mind. You try to hold on to some semblance of control, but who are you kidding? He has officially turned you into a puddle of desperate, needy nerves, and you don’t even care.

It doesn’t take long before that coil snaps, and when it does, your entire body trembles. It’s always the second orgasm. The first is a tease, a little warm-up. The second one is the worst—or the best, depending on how you look at it. It doesn’t just tug at your edges, it tears right through, leaving you gasping and shaking and completely undone like every part of you has been pulled apart and put back together very wrong.

His mouth is glazed with your slick when he finally pulls away. “Good?”

You can barely feel your legs.

“Speechless,” is your answer.

His nose twitches in amusement as his hand leaves yours only for them to slide down your body, gently coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist. “Continue?”

“Please.”

A palm slips down your thigh. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip as he hovers above you. “About what?”

“About taking advantage of you.”

You huff out a sigh. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Say it again,” he urges, guiding his cock smoothly along your folds before your whines travel into his ears. Ah, there it is. This is the sound that would greet him in heaven, if such a place existed for someone like him. Men who’ve taken lives to save others. Men who carry too many regrets to count. Spencer knows he’s not the kind of person heaven was built for, but if it were, he’s certain it would sound exactly like the breathy moan that escapes your lips.

And he’s tasted the afterlife, once, when he was younger—drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion with a ghost of a needle stuck in his arm. But nothing about that brush with death was like this. This feels like he’s been pulled back into something he didn’t believe he deserved.

“Say it again.”

He’s pleading now. It sounds awfully like a prayer.

“I want you to take advantage of me,” you say, the words spilling from your lips like a soft, sinful confession, music to his ears. An angel. “I want all of it.”

He takes your hands again. “So you won’t be mad if I get a little rough?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

That’s all he needs. He gently pushes your hands above your head, pinning them to the mattress, his fingers lacing through yours as his weight presses you into the bed. There’s a sudden rush—like a switch has flipped that it knocks the breath out of you. Your heart skips a beat, but not from nerves. No, this is anticipation, excitement.

You test his hold on you, just to see what happens, but his grip stays firm, almost daring you to resist.

“You asked for this,” he warns as he shifts his hips, aligning himself right to your entrance.

You shake your head. “I begged for this.”

He laughs, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “Yeah,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he presses deeper, “you did.”

A breathless whine escapes your lips as he fills you.

Angel, angel, angel.

He looks at you with a kind of reverence that borders on worship, though his movements are anything but saintly. There’s nothing gentle or innocent about the way he’s taking you, and there’s a quiet madness in the way you respond. Making love would be too tame, too soft for what this is. But fucking seems too crude, too disconnected for the way your eyes meet his, for the way you say his name like a prayer and a demand all at once.

The moment your voice breaks, breathless and needy, something inside him snaps. He feels the tightness coiling in his gut, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it. The pressure is mounting, and with every hard thrust it becomes harder to hold back. He knows he should slow down, give you a moment to catch your breath, but he can’t—his body won’t let him.

His fingers tighten around yours. He’s moving with a single-minded intensity now, pushing you flat against the mattress, your body pliant beneath him. The bed creaks every time he moves and your legs wrap tighter around his hips as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Spencer leans down, brushing his lips against yours, so close but never quite closing the distance, like even the simplest kiss would shatter him too soon. Instead, he rests his forehead on top of yours and whispers, “l’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, like he’s stuck on some endless loop. It’s not a real apology, not for anything he’s done, but for how much he needs you and how he’s afraid of breaking you with how much he can’t hold back.

He’s so close and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“I’m—” He groans as he feels the tension in his body snap, the wave building up in his spine and crashing down with brutal intensity. “I—fuck—I can’t hold it—”

You’re barely coherent yourself, but your voice comes out strong. A little breathless.

“Inside,” you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist. “I want it inside.”

Your words push him over the edge. He shudders, hips stuttering as he buries himself as deep as he can the moment the last thread of his restraint snaps. He can feel it, the way he pulses inside you, filling you completely. Every thrust is accompanied by a harsh groan as his release paints your walls, and the sound of your soft, desperate whines only pushes him deeper into the overwhelming pleasure.

When it finally becomes too much, he carefully pulls out. But the intensity is still coursing through his veins, and he’s too addicted to the sound of your sound, too drawn to the way your body trembles beneath him.

His hand drifts from your wrist almost on instinct, tracing its way down between your legs. He doesn’t need to see the mess he’s made—he can feel it. There’s a fleeting moment where he pauses, almost in awe, before his fingers brush over your clit, and your hips jerk in response. He’s not even sure if he’s teasing you or himself at this point, but he’s too far gone to care.

He slides two fingers inside you.

Your back arches instantly, your nipples brushing against his chest, and you gasp, fully aware of what he’s trying to do. “Oh… I—I can’t…”

He shakes his head. “You can,” he reassures you, watching in fascination as he pushes the white liquid of his release deeper into you. His gaze snaps back to yours. “I think you can give me one more.”

Your body trembles, and you can’t hold back the soft, broken cry that escapes your lips.

“Spencer…”

He loosens his grip on your hand, guiding it gently to rest around his neck. “Please,” he begs, his lips brushing your skin, “for me?”

The way he says it makes it impossible for you to deny him. And he knows it. He feels it in the way your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the tension inside you builds again. His fingers work faster, more desperate now, curling inside you just the way you like.

He’s watching, waiting, and when you finally cum again, it’s like witnessing something so divine. Your body shakes beneath him, a violent, beautiful quake that feels like it’s pulling him into its orbit. He’s unable to tear his eyes away as your head tilts back, lips parting with a choked moan that’s as delicate as it is devastating like an angel’s breath caught on the edge of rapture.

If angels looked this breathtaking in heaven, no wonder people were willing to risk damnation.

Spencer smiles wryly to himself.

Since when did he become so religious?

Another strangled moan escapes your lips. When your orgasm finally subsides, your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, and with what little strength you have left, you reach up and yank weakly at his mop of brown curls.

“…no more.”

He smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No more,” he agrees, pulling his fingers from you carefully.

Without saying a word, he slips off the bed and disappears from the room, only to come back with a damp towel in his hand. You expect him to hand it over to you, but you’re surprised when he kneels at the edge of the bed, gently spreading your legs apart.

Your skin tingles under his gaze as he stares at the mess between your thighs.

“That was…” he starts as he begins to wipe the towel over you. “…very reckless of us.”

With a small, tired smile, you mutter, “You don’t seem too bothered by it.”

He glances up at you. “I’m not,” he admits, finishing his cleanup and setting the towel aside. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least pretend to be responsible.”

You reach for him as he climbs back into bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I’m on birth control?”

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his body visibly relaxing as he lets out a quiet laugh. “It definitely helps,” he says, tucking you under his chin, “but I’m still going to try to be more careful next time.”

Your grin is as wide as the warmth spreading through your chest. “Next time?”

He smiles softly. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“Which part? You said a lot of things.”

“You know what I mean,” he insists.

“I know. But I want to hear it again.”

The tip of his nose brushes yours. “I want everything.”

“Everything?”

“Every single part of you.”

You take a deep breath. A whiff of his sweat and the faintest trace of soap clings around your senses until you release a happy sigh. “Do you think Violet will be okay with this? With us?”

His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he tilts his head to look at you. “She already loves you,” he reassures you. “She’s more adaptable than you think. And she trusts you.”

“But... what if it changes things for her?”

“It will change things,” he admits. “But all the changes will be good ones."

You mull over his words. “You think so?”

“I know so, because you make her happy. You make both of us happy, an—”

He stops, his lips just barely parted as he catches himself.

He almost said it. He almost called you angel.

“What?”

He shakes his head slightly, a faint embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I’m just really happy,” he explains, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. There’s a curious look in your eyes, but instead of pressing him, you bury yourself into his neck, which he’s quietly grateful for because he’s not sure he could have explained himself without sounding like a total sap.

And maybe he is a sap, but even he’s aware that words like that shouldn’t be thrown around too soon, especially after just one night. Not before things settle in, before everything feels a little less like a dream and more like reality.

But he thinks about it. Oh, he thinks about it. The word stubbornly lingers at the edge of his mind he’s keeping for another time. He imagines letting it slip on some quiet morning, when you’re half-asleep and bundled in his shirt, golden sunlight filtering through the window to cast a warm glow across your skin. Or maybe when you meet him at the door after a long day, and Violet runs up, chattering away while you smile at him with that look that feels like coming home.

He can picture it falling easily from his lips someday, maybe even in a future where you’re holding the baby you had wondered about having with him and he’s standing there, watching you like someone who can’t quite believe his luck.

He’ll say it with a kind of certainty then. Not as a prayer, not as some lofty declaration of divine grace.

And when that moment comes, without hesitation, he’ll finally call you his angel.

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animeshotsh · 1 month ago

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Moms | Jinx x Fem!Reader | Arcane ¤

Summary: You are worried since your girlfriend has dissapear since Silco's death. Only for her to show up at your home, but not alone.

Warnings: SFW - SOFT - OFF CANON IN TERMS OF TIME - Worm joke - grammar mistakes - spoiler s2 - sad!reader - mentions of alcohol -

Even since the big explosion that took place in the uppercity the undercity had gone into a crisis of gang fights and just more violence.

No one really knew what had happened, there were rumors of Silco being dead, but who attacked the uppercity?

Well, since Jinx your girlfriend was a fan of gadgets, guns and bombs, and how she had stopped coming to your home to visit you, you connected the dots.

Then when her face was in a wanted poster it became real.

God you were scared for her, where was she? Was she safe? You did check her usual hideouts and the ones that were secretly for the both of you so no one would target you. But nothing. You were left with zero trace of her.

You had to push yourself out of your home to work and put a fake face of not caring when someone mentioned her, or when you saw the enforcments go around.

~~~~~~

Your day was long, so when you finally got home you left yourself fall on the old couch. Dust covered the place even if you have tried many times to clean it.

Just like any other night you started to feel sad, memories of you and Jinx coming back. How you met her, how she seemed curious of you at first and how you had felt like her experiment, then your first kiss with her, the cuddles, doing her hair and nails....

And so you started to cry again but your spiral of depression would have to wait since a knock at your door alerted you.

Now, you were born and raised in the undercity, you knew how dangerous it could be, thats why you have trained yourself on being able to use knifes and be quick on your feet.

You swiftly took out your blade going in silence towards the door, the knocking continued, being more frenetic.

Your heart went up fast your brain already thinking on vitals points to hit and a back door from the apparment complex till you hear it.

"No! Im not shooting her door"

That voice...

"Well because she is nice? You will love her, but no more than me"

You went quickly and opened it revealing a figure under a cape, but you could see the blue hair and pink eyes.

You were fast on pulling her in, no noticing the small kid that followed by her hand.

"Jinx! Fucking hell, are you alright? Wait, thats blood? Its not yours right? I need to get you cleaned, hold up"

Just as you were going to go and look for something she pulled you back and kissed you, it felt different, like this was a kiss that was more to ground herself than anything.

"Just...just shut up. And its not mine"

Jinx said getting away a bit. She could see your worried expression and by the look of your aparment and the alcohol bottles she could tell you had been dealing with a lot.

Fuck, why did she hurt anyone who got close?

Her mind stopped when she saw you go down on your knees and see behind her leg.

"Why do you have a kid with you?" You asked seeing the dirty kid who looked back at you then at Jinx then at you.

Jinx and the kid seemed to talk without saying a word, then with a nod from her the kid went to you and hugged you.

You were suprised and a bit taken back, but hugged her back.

"Suprise! You are a mom now, I know you have said how you wanted to adopt a kid if you could"

You gave a Jinx a pointed look then separated from the kid who had a different look now, a look of...fondness?

"Jinx...I- Im not even going to ask. Im just glad you are fine"

Her heart broke at your honest words and loving smile. She did swear no one would take you from her.

~~~~~~~~

Jinx insisted on you moving to her hideout, saying that someone could have seen her and your house was not safe anymore.

Honestly? You thought she was trying to make her own world there. A place where she, Isah and you could live under colors, see insects fights. Play hideout and just....be a family.

When Isah went to sleep you went to Jinx who was messing with her old gun, not getting it back together just...moving pieces.

"Jinx, you know this cant last forever" You had started to say slowly getting her to stop messing and look at you.

"Dont tell me you agree with lefty?"

You snorted at the nickname she had gave to Sevika.

"No, well maybe a bit. Look i dont want you to be a vigilant or anything, i want you to be whatever you wanna be. But, we are in difficult times now, and you Jinx" You said taking her hands in yours "You are what is keeping the others together, something i have never imagined"

"Because I jinx everything, right?"

You moved your head and made her look directly at you.

"You dont do that. Stop saying that. You met me, and we are together right? We have been together for so long, i dont plan on going anywhere".

"...Even if i turn into a worm?"

"Yes Jinx, even if you turn into a worm. I will still be at your side, loving you and caring for you. But i wont let you be on our fights, sorry but you would be a loser"

And with both of your laughts the bitter reallity seemed to go away at least for now.

#arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #jinx x reader #jinx x fem!reader

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chithereader · 18 days ago

Text

jealousy, jealousy / aaron hotchner

here’s my masterlist! pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader / shy!reader word count: 2.4k genre & cw: fluff, a little jealousy and pining angst if u squint, mentions of made-up case, different use of cm character a/n: thank u so much for all the support i've been getting on my fics!! hope you love this one as much as i do, i really enjoyed writing this one the most!

Today was a bad day. That much was clear. From the moment you woke up to the minute you arrived at the BAU– you’re convinced that the universe has simply gone the extra mile to make your life a little harder.

You slept through your alarm and a few phone calls from Garcia, making your morning stressful and complete chaos. You didn’t have time to grab a cup of coffee or a snack, and apparently you also didn’t have time to remove the colorful pimple patches that adorned your face.

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through.

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought.

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right?

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh.

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day.

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why.

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?”

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something.

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing.

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty.

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.”

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch.

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you.

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely.

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse.

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate.

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file.

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss.

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth.

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short.

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud.

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile.

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground.

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?”

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing.

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand.

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.”

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.”

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob.

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud.

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia.

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face.

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!”

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you.

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting.

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience.

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?”

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?”

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.”

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.”

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.”

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really?

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away.

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.”

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?”

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?”

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.”

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous?

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish.

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–”

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now.

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you.

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt–

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice,

“You don’t think you’re my girl?”

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