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sexlapis · 11 months

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[◉°] … TOJI FUSHIGURO TAKES A LIE DETECTOR TEST… 9.6M VIEWS

꩜ actor!toji (& implied actor toji x actress/actor reader)

⤷ synopsis: toji thought this lie detector test was going to be a breeze. he was a little mistaken.

sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, toji & reader are secretly together, toji lying!

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actor!toji masterlist

⪩　　 ₊　 🍪 　　✧ 　　⁺

“i ain’t nervous,” toji claims, cracking his neck and smirking as the crew members attach the needed equipment to his body, “i ain’t no liar either. so i got nothing to worry about here.”

“i sure hope that’s true, mr.fushiguro.” the polygraph examiner replies slyly.

“are you ready, toji fushiguro?” the interviewer asks.

“yeah, i am,” toji claps, “hurry up and get started.”

“is your name toji fushiguro?”

“yes my name is toji fushiguro.” he looks to the polygraph examiner. “it is, right?”

the woman simply stares at him.

“..alright then…”

the interviews asks another question. “are you about to take a polygraph exam?”

“yes, yes and yes, now give me the real questions!”

TOJI FUSHIGURO TELLS THE TRUTH

YOUR CAREER

“we’re going to start with the category of your career.”

toji nods and looks to the examiner. “how ‘m i doing?”

“you’re very calm, nothing unusual yet.”

“hm.”

the interview begins to speak. “one of your most popular roles as an actor was when you played Frank Castle in the Netflix series, “The Punisher”. some would say this is when you became a heartthrob. do you think is this true?”

toji sighs and shakes his head. “nah-”

“LIE.” the polygraph examiner calls out.

toji raises his hand. “…because, i was already a heartthrob before alla that.” he smiles, looking proud of himself. his answer is met with silence.

“ok.” says the interviewer and goes onto the next question. “do you face a lot of pressure being a heartthrob?”

“nope.” toji answers easily. “i’m just that kinda guy. i ain’t gotta try too hard for much, especially not ‘being hot’.”

he looks at the examiner.

“he’s telling the truth.” she states. she almost seems disappointed by the fact.

“see?” toji says, folding his arms, “as i said, ‘got nothin’ to lie about.”

“in the punisher,” the interviewer starts, ignoring toji’s cocky replies, “do you wear a muscle suit to look bigger than you actually are?”

toji throws his back, cackles echoing around the small room. “fuck no!” he gestures to…his whole body, “‘it look like i need a muscle suit? ‘didn’t even know that shit was a thing… i’m big enough without any of that stuff.” he shrugs, looking into the camera. “i think we can all see that.”

the examiner nods curtly. “..he is telling the truth.”

“do you workout often?” asks the interviewer.

toji scoffs. “i thought i’d get good questions..but yeah, yeah i do workout.”

“would you consider yourself fit?”

“yep. ‘hundred percent.”

“would you consider yourself fitter than,” the interviewer slides a photo of the actor gojo satoru towards toji, “this man?”

“pfft-” toji chortles. “oh, ohh yeah. easily. he’s like..” he looks for the correct words, “a little boy. are we kidding?”

he looks to the examiner and then to the interviewer.

“he is being truthful..again.”

toji smirks at the camera, tapping the side of his nose with his finger. “toji never lies.”

POP CULTURE

“this year, you were named “The Most Sexiest Man Alive” by People Magazine. do you believe you’re sexier than this man, 2022’s sexiest man, nanami kento?” the interviewer slides another photo, this time of the actor nanami kento.

toji looks at the photo for a second, before scoffing a little. “oh yeah. definitely. ‘guy just has a permanent frown on his face. he ain’t ugly but he could smile a little, y’know?”

“what about this ‘guy’, 2021’s most sexiest man alive, ryomen sukuna?” the interviewer also slides a picture of him to toji.

toji strokes his chin. “heh..yeah..yeah i would say so..this guy..he ain’t ugly either but..theres this energy about him..”

“what energy would that be, toji fushiguro?”

“the energy of a fuckin’ mass murderer that’s what!” he laughs at his own joke, looking at the picture of this ‘ryomen sukuna’, who is glaring into his soul through the image. “yeahh, i’d say i’m more attractive than him. just.. just a little.” he holds two fingers close together emphasis. “jesus christ, that’s one scary looking fuck.”

the examiner inspects the polygraph and looks towards toji and the interviewer. “he has been telling the truth.”

“yeah.” toji nods, exhaling through his mouth and sliding the pictures away from himself. “‘course i am.”

LOVE LIFE

toji had been doing well so far, but the category of ‘love life’ would be his downfall.

“do you want to get married in the future?”

“yeah, yeah i do.”

the examiner nods.

“have you ever been in love?”

“..yes.” toji responds, thinking about his past for a second.

the examiner nods again.

“are you in love right now?”

toji pauses for the first time in the whole test. he takes a deep breath. “no. yeah, no. ‘m not.”

the examiner raises an eyebrow at the results. “questionable.”

“oh, c’mon.” toji groans, rolling his eyes.

“is there someone you’re in love with?”

“nope. nobody at all.” he interlinks his fingers, tapping them against each other. “..nobody at all..”

“questionable. again.” the examiner states, pointedly looking at toji.

toji sighs. “oh, brother…”

“did you happen to meet this person..on set?”

“no, ‘cause there is no person?” toji says firmly.

“again.” the examiner says. “questionable.”

“christ…”

the interviewer asks another question. “do you believe in love at first sight?”

toji huffs. “no, that’s just two people who wanna fuck.”

“i see. then,” the interviewer takes out three pictures, all of them being people who he has worked with on set, including you.

“are you in love with any of these people?”

toji gulps, hesitating for a split second, his eyes focused on your picture. “nope. not oneeee bit.”

“LIE.” the examiner shouts excitedly, happy to have finally caught toji out on lying. she rings the negative buzzer repeatedly. “lie!”

“‘you serious?” he asks incredulously, looking between the interviewer and the examiner. “listen, maybe it was just my heart murmur or somethin’ like that,” he looks to side, cheeks rosy and shifts in his seat a little, “i-i don’t-”

“those are the last of our questions.” the interviewer says to toji, smiling knowingly. “thank you for taking part in our lie detector test.”

toji grumbles.

౨ৎ

a/n: this was longer than i planned 🤥

#I’m so sorry i always forget the taglist i’m not used to one i’m so sorry😭#actor!toji #toji x reader #toji x gn!reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro fluff #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro toji fluff #toji x gender neutral reader #toji x gender neutral!reader

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sweetnans · 3 months

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Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.4)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3♡ -> Pt.5

m.list

Is there anything better than privacy?

Nope.

Bakugo had a room for his own. His roommate bailed from college right after the first class. He had an awakening about his future or something like that he had said before taking all his clothes and leaving. Bakugo felt some sort of relief that lasted...ten minutes? His friends used to invade his space quiet often. When he came to his room after seeing your flirting with Todoroki (from afar according to him), Kirishima and Sero were there talking about a game. They noticed in an instant that something was happening to his friend. He had his usual scowl on his face, but his brows were knitted together. A bad omen.

"Hey dude, what's up with that face?" Seemed like Sero was the one who grew a pair overnight.

Bakugo only grunted on his way to the closet. He needed to change his clothes to go to the stupid party you were attending. He made sure of that.

What if he sees you with Todoroki? Was it going to make his stupid stomach churn again?

"Hey man, we were talking about the party," Kirishima said, gaining part of his attention. "We were thinking about staying here, playing games, drinking our secret stash-"

"Fuck no" he didn't even stutter.

The reaction from Bakugo set an alarm to both of his friends. They knew about how casanova Bakugo could be, but he never, ever, showed that much, the fact that they were almost certain, after what happened with you just a week ago, that his friend's response was going to be a solid yes.

"Why so eager?" Sero asked.

"I just need the distraction," Bakugo shrugged while picking and searching the proper outfit.

He was vane most of the time, but he never took more than five minutes to choose a plain shirt and baggy jeans. Kirishima knew very well what was going on.

"Sero, why don't you go knock Mina's door and tell her about the change of plans"

Kirishima tried to be subtle. Man, he tried. Fortunately, Bakugo was so busy trying to decide between a white shirt and a black shirt that he didn't notice the exchange of looks that his friends were doing right under his nose.

"Sure," Sero winked to Kirishima and left the room.

Kirishima didn't know how to address the topic. His friend would definitely deny it, and they would be doing a full circle with yes and no that would end up in Bakugo just answering with noises.

Bakugo couldn't stop touching the fabric of his clothes. Was it too soft? Was it too white? What if there was a theme he didn't know about?

"You're panicking." Kirishima crossed his arms while leaning on his desk chair. He wouldn't lie, the scene was comical to witness. "You know you can talk to me"

The friendship between the two of them was something that most people didn't understand. Kirishima was always smiling, talking to everyone and telling jokes, while Bakugo, well, he had a permanent scowl on his face, rarely showed any other emotion than bored superiority and the only events that people saw him interacting with other people was with only one purpose, to state that he was better than everybody else. He was considered a private man and someone who had a police tape that said, do not cross.

"I don't know what's happening to me," he said, exposing his heart. He wasn't going to start naming or counting details. It was implicit, and Kirishima understood very well.

"You know what, man, you need to clear your head a little. This week had been rough. What about a beer pong to drain some stress off?"

Bakugo nodded to himself without even glancing at his friend. He needed a distraction, and he was almost sure that a party was a good place to find it.

...

"I can't believe that you, the queen of punctuality, is late" Jirou was losing it with you, the fact that you left her on read after she sent that demanding text and that you were also taking your time on getting ready.

"I'm sorry, Aizawa asked me to feed his cat, and you know how she is"

Blaming your non-biological dad was the ultimate movement in your pocket, so gen z of you.

"Oh yeah, Denki told me about the rizz in your training class. How did it go?" She asked you while picking her nails looking uninterested but you caught her side glancing you.

You slid your black leather skirt on your legs and shrugged.

"Well, you can see the burn marks on my legs here," you pointed above your left knee. "And here," you pointed your right mid thigh.

"Ugh, did you put something on it? That's gonna leave a nasty scar, " you denied, shaking your head.

She was right, but you didn't have anything to tend the wound.

"Does it hurt?" She asked this time, getting close to your leg.

"Yeah it does, like a motherfucker" you giggled. "But it's okay, it's a one-time thing, Aizawa is coming back and I would never ever ever have to sparr with him again"

There wasn't a pun intended in the mention of the one-time thing, but still, you really hoped that you would never have to be in that situation again.

"Well, at least this time was something professional"

You nodded, putting your boots on.

"Oh, but then, when I went to feed the cat, he was there, waiting outside Aizawa's door"

"He was where?"

Denki, as always, appeared out of nowhere, startling the shit out of you. Thank god he was outside the room this time and not hiding in the closet or under the bed.

"I'm pretty sure you heard me right," you said, putting some gloss on your lips. They stayed quiet, urging you to follow the story. "I finished my chores as a good daughter, and when I opened the door to leave Aizawa's apartment, I stumbled against him"

"What was he doing there?" Jirou asked with a quizzed look on her face.

"I don't know, he didn't tell me," you shrugged and turned around. Both of them were looking at each other with suspicious eyes. "What?," you inquired.

"I mean, not because we are your friends and we have to be delulu for you, but it's weird, don't you think?" Kaminari said and looked straight to Jirou for support.

"In a normal situation, we would be feeding you with improbable situations, but right now, I'm even intrigued with Bakugo and his behavior towards you. He seems like he's always trying to bump into you"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"Wait a minute, we don't know why he was there. We haven't seen each other in a week less talk to each other, he's not trying anything, maybe he was lost or-"

"Yeah, right, lost." Jirou rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"I know the guy better than you two, and I think that Jirou is more on the correct side than you," Kaminari mumbled.

"Thank you!" Jirou stated, hoping off the bed.

"I think you're both wrong. He's not behaving in a way that's unnatural for him, he's just being obnoxious because what I said to him the other day, he's gonna leave me alone in a couple of weeks and move on to the next" you grabbed your jacket from the hanger and pointed to the door to get them going.

"You're basically saying that he's in fact following you." Kaminari dropped one of his heavy hands in your shoulder to keep you steady on the way to the party.

"She just proved my point without even meaning it." Jirou winked at you while you shook your head.

...

The lights inside the house were faint, a dim glow of absence in the middle of a considerable amount of bodies dancing at the rhythm of the music that was blasting through the speakers.

Jirou and Kaminari were the first ones to get lost inside the crowd, and it was perfectly fine for you. You weren't the kind of friends that were attached to the hip all the time. You respected each other spaces and you knew that eventually, you would find them slightly drunk, and you would hang with them again.

The party was situated inside of someone's home. A person you clearly didn't know. At that point, seeing nothing but unfamiliar faces, you started to doubt that Kaminari knew the owner of the house too.

You poured a transparent liquor in a red cup. You knew that you said earlier that you weren't going to drink, but just a drink won't hurt you.

You were looking at everything, trying to spot someone familiar or a thing to do. You wouldn't consider yourself socially awkward. In fact, people always found you easy to talk to, but you didn't make the first move. Between hi's and hey's, you recognized the characteristically two color bush of hair.

Todoroki was for you, an acquaintance. You knew him for a few classes. He always greeted you back when you raised your hand at him saying hi, but there was always something more. He was handsome and quiet, the mysterious pretty boy full of secrets that every girl wants to conquer. You weren't sure if you were one of them or if it was his vibe and mismatched eyes that always lit a little sparkle inside of you, tingling in your stomach with curiosity.

Well, you know what they say about curiosity killing the cat. Your only job was maintaining the cat alive, so for the sake of that...

"Hey," he said when he saw you approaching.

"Hi," you elevated your voice because of the music. He mimicked that he didn't hear you because of the speakers, so you leaned a little to his side. "Sorry, I didn't know you were into this"

The music, the flashing colored lights, the high pitch of voices from people trying to talk to each other. You included.

"It's friday night. What else can I do?" He shrugged hiding himself a little.

He was still a ball of cotton.

After everything that happened after the war, everyone evolved into a new facet of themselves, forming new angles, new emotions, and new personalities trying to rationale the traumas of the past into something positive.

He suffered a lot, and the fact that his suffering was being broadcast and watched by everyone in the world hurt a thousand times more. He lost all his privacy and the right to deal with the sorrow in his own way without staying in the public eye.

"I can relate to that." You sipped your liquor and scrunched your nose a little. "What are you drinking?" You glanced to his cup, but it seemed to only have water inside.

"It's vodka," he swung the cup in his hand and then gulped all the content down his throat in one go.

"It was vodka," you stated, quirking a brow. That was unexpected. And sexy. "Take mine, I don't like plain vodka"

You gave him your cup, and he accepted without second guesses.

"Do you want me to make you a drink?" He said.

It was subtle. There was no hint of flirtatious intentions. He was soft and friendly but unintentionally.

"Do you know how to make drinks?" You were surprised by his confidence. You doubted your capacities daily, so it was uncommon for you seeing this kind of demeanor, let alone in him. You were projecting.

"Yeah, there's this barman who always appears on my for you page"

He didn't laugh when he said the most mundane thing on the world, so you didn't laugh either.

"Sure, show me what you got"

You followed through the people, and in a moment where everyone was stuck like glue with everybody he grabbed you by your wrist to not lose you.

His fingers were warm, so you could bet it was his left hand. You wouldn't lie to yourself. The pads of his fingers carresing your pulse point in a firm, but soft grip made your cheeks turn red, but there was no chill in your spine or butterflies in your stomach. It was pure tenderness.

Once in the kitchen, the sound of the music lowered a little because of the close doors and the panels of ceramics doing their jobs, preventing the outside.

He moved through the kitchen, hesitating every step he took.

"What do you have in mind?" You leaned in the counter, forgetting you were wearing a slutty top that propelled your boobs almost to you neck.

He side eyed you, and after a peak to your neckline, he became more clumsy.

Your boobs were firm. They weren't big, but they weren't small. Your ex-boyfriends or past flings had always said to you that they were perfect. You knew that tits were tits for them, and the mere concept of boobs was attractive for every straight man.

Lifting your hand without making much fuzz over it, you pulled the top covering the skin.

"I-I," he stuttered, opening and closing a few drawers. He cleared his throat, regaining his confidence again, and showed you a couple of lemons. "Kaminari said once that your favorite drink was Cosmopolitans"

You were surprised by two things. The first was Kaminari talking about you. You needed the context of that conversation, the why, the who, and the how. The second thing was him remembering that unimportant fact about someone who didn't even talk to.

"Yeah," you came back from your stunishment.

Completely, contrary to how he moved in the kitchen fetching all the ingredients, he showed that he was a total expert making drinks, or at least he was good pretending to know how to make them. He used his hands graciously to pour all the things into a shaker he found, and then he poured the most delicated drink you ever saw.

You were used to Kaminari and Jirou mixing all the ingredients stirring them with a straw but that was different.

"Here you go"

The glamor ended when the drink touched the red cup, but we are going to skip that detail.

In your mind, you cursed yourself from the past, the one that swore that would never drink again because after sipping just a drop of that elixir, you couldn't help but want more.

"You shouldn't be moaning like that in front of everybody"

His gruff voice coming from behind made all the hairs in the nape of your neck react.

Of course, the only one that could ruin the perfect moment with the perfect drink and the perfect company was nothing more and nothing less than Bakugo Katsuki himself.

Oh, beloved earth, could it please swallow you already?

...

Bakugo meshed well because of his friends. They were talkative enough to supply the lack of social rudeness of him.

After they arrived at the party, he planted himself in a giant group of men playing beer pong. He played a few rounds and then got bored because everyone was wasted, and for him, it was no fun watching them stumble and laughing at the most stupid things.

His friend helped a little with that. They were talking with Sato and Shoji about some game and some fighting techniques that Bakugo was more than pleased to show interest and even help them with their doubts.

They engaged in a conversation that evolved to many topics that he actually enjoyed. He was fully focused on them when a glance of the color of your hair and the characteristically smile of you dragged all his attention out of the group.

You were wearing just a top and a tiny skirt with black boots that made him want to be stomped on.

Bakugo excused himself of the group. His friends were too busy to realize what was happening and why he was so exalted.

You weren't alone.

You were following that half n' half shithead.

He was the opposite of idiot. He knew how to play his game and how to act when he was committed to spying on someone. He observed from the slight opening between the frame and the door how Todoroki reacted to your presence and vice-versa.

He had a great view of your ass in that skirt. You were leaning on the counter with your ass popping up, and he could notice that Todoroki had a nice peak of your tits. He saw you covering yourself quietly after he became the stupidest person of all times acting distracted and awkward.

"Fucking icyhot," he thought.

Bakugo needed to do something quick, and for one moment, his lack of reasoning won over his structure and square shaped mind.

After that one sentence that drew your attention completely, he saw the change in your posture, the way your smile faded, and how suddenly all your muscles were rigid against every part of your skin that you were showing because of your outfit choice.

He felt intrigued because of the sudden change of your demeanor in response to his presence, and he also felt satisfied with that.

"Oh dear," you sighed, turning around to face him. He never showed any particular emotion, but this time, he couldn't hide the little smirk that appeared on his lips.

"I never expected to see you here," he continued.

You were about to answer when you realized that it wasn't directed to you. He was talking to Todoroki, ignoring your presence in front of him.

"Yeah, I'm not a fan of this kinda stuff," Todoroki said impassive.

"I can notice that," he said with superiority and because of the silence he added. "So what's going on in here? Are you having a little party for yourselves?"

Bakugo knew very well how to play the who can be more annoying game. In a matter of competition, he always won. This wasn't an exception.

"Todoroki was making me a drink, and that's all, now if you excuse us -" you said, opening your eyes and directing them to the door so he could read the room.

"Cool, what'cha drinking?" He didn't wait for your answer and grabbed the drink that you left in the counter taking a giant sip.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you were dying of embarrassment. The booze in your system was not the sufficient amount to get you through what was happening. You wanted to die.

"That's a little too acid for me, but it's good, sure you did a great job"

The way he was saying things was taking you to the verge of lightning him up with your quirk. You looked at Todoroki. He was more than used to weird interactions, but he was looking at Bakugo in a way you couldn't decipher.

"I have an early training at my dad's agency tomorrow, I have to go." Todoroki voice was plain, but when he looked at you, you could see the pity in his eyes. "Maybe next time"

Your entire body was saying sorry, but the words never got to your mouth. You only nodded. He was a good guy and someone that you were actually interested in getting to know, but there was the other bastard ruining everything again.

Both of you saw Todoroki leaving the kitchen, and if someone was looking at the scene from outside, they could've seen how Bakugo puffed out his chest and how the pure rage invaded your body.

"Look what you just did!" You smacked his bicep, and he smirked wider, making you regret smacking him so lightly.

"What? He was totally shitting on himself with you here. I saved his ass. " he pointed towards the door that was still moving with the tandem of Todoroki storming out. "I bet he wouldn't have made it to the second base with you"

"Jeez, that's for me to decide," you whined like a little girl.

"I just did what I had to do"

"Oh my god, what's gotten into you lately?" The bravery made only by the alcohol in your system took control of yourself. "You've been following me and riling me up just for the fun of it. It's been a fucking week I thought that what happened between you and me was more than over, what do you want from me?"

Just as the booze took over your system, Bakugo had his own little thing commanding his decisions. He wasn't sure of what it was.

"I want us to be friends"

You were taken by surprise.

He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't do friends, he didn't need a friend, he had enough but you, what was the deal with you? He found exhausting the feeling of you feeling repulsed by him, the avoidance game that you played very well.

Damn he felt intrigued by your lack of excitement when it came to him. Excitement? The euphoria that tagged along with having the experience with him, people talked about his stamina in bed very often, and that was the clear answer in his head. Was he good enough? Yeah, he was, but it seemed that he wasn't enough for you.

He always knew that his attitude was bad and people loathed him because of it, and it was alright for him. He could definitely still live knowing that. It made sense, at least, hating him for something bad like his demeanor...but sex? He thought he was one of the dudes that the girls wanted more of, the type of guy that the girls will speak of with their friends, the type of guy that would be top tier in a chick's list, well, that really happened before, many times, but what was the problem with you? Why did everyone else he sleep with do that but not you?

He didn't expect the sudden feelings that came along with the concept of you.

Rage. He remained calm in the most stressful situations, but you, with the snap of your fingers and your smart mouth, did everything to put his world upside down, and that wasn't fair for him.

Jealousy. Seeing you flirting, talking with other people when the number of times he had ever spoken to you were almost close to zero than to ten.

Even dependency. He wanted to be close to you so much.

And...confusion, why? why was he feeling so out of control out of nothing?

That's how it felt being pussy whipped?

"Friends?" You snapped him out of his senses.

"Yeah, friends is a word that means -"

"I know what friends are, you stupid asshole." You rolled your eyes at him who was still standing there with superiority after destroying your moment with Todoroki.

"So?" He urged. He was calm even when his mind was racing at the possibility of you saying no.

"What's in for you?" You were suspicious. You knew very well the closed circle of friends he had, only four at best.

"Nothing, I found you not a total waste of space," he said nonchalantly. If you were expecting him to shower you with compliments, you were wrong.

You knew how he was. Always believing he was the best, that his position in the world was above the others, how he called 'extras' the people that were surrounding him but not fulfilling his expectations or even near his expectations, well, if he had one because most of the time people weren't worth his time.

You were exactly the opposite of him. You never had the need to test people out. You never had the need to prove yourself against others. You lived your life day by day, almost unnoticed. You needed to be smarter than him.

"Fine," you conceded. "But, there's one condition"

He scoffed, clearly enjoying and making fun of you for thinking you had the position on making conditions.

"We are not fucking again"

You drew the line.

You've had your friends with benefits before because you knew them. Bakugo was a completely different scenario for you.

He wouldn't lie. He, in his men mind, thought that maybe offering his friendship to you would be the easiest way to get inside your panties. You were not just a pretty face. You had brains.

"Sure, you don't see me fucking with raccoon eyes" he rolled his eyes pretending to be offended.

"Then we have a deal." You smiled tensely at him. He extended his hand for you to take it. "That's how you normally make friends? Like you are selling something?"

"Shake the damn hand"

He used the opportunity of you closing your hand in his to pull you closer to him, stumbling against his broad chest.

You looked at him squirming your eyes, waiting patiently for the moment he decided to fuck everything up. He looked closely at your face, the smuged marks of your eyeliner under the corner of your eyes, the way your lashes curled up and marked more the shape of your eye. He was perplexed by your beauty.

"You left some hair on my pillow, " he said with his voice hoarse, tugging a string of your hair behind your ear.

"We said friends, didn't we?" You smacked his hand far away from near you and he smirked.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know how long this is going to last"

"What do you mean?" You asked, taking the remaining amount of drink in your cup.

"Don't get me wrong. Im a man of my word, but I don't know if you would be able to keep up with our promise"

You laughed at him. You've seen the man naked. You had him on top of you. You didn't need anything from him.

If he wanted a challenge, you would be more than happy to comply.

"Yeah, of course," you scoffed, "I have so little control of myself that I won't be able to keep my hands to myself."

The tone in your sarcasm was rich. He found it amusing.

"Laugh all you want, but I'm not going to be the one suffering because of this dumb decision of keeping us as only friends"

The seriousness on his voice sent a chill up and down through your spine.

"You are so full of yourself." You laughed again, but this time, it was a nervous laugh.

He put his hands up in redemption while walking backward toward the door and then left you all alone in the kitchen with your thoughts.

Was he drunk, too?

He was, only ten minutes after you accepted on being his friend, in fact, suffering because of your quick answer and condition to not mess with each other. He needed strategy, thinking logically to make you make the first move with him.

He didn't know what was the thing responsible for him being so stubborn when it came to you. He didn't know if it was like those occasions when you became obsessed with the things that were out of your reach. The negative of you about being even near him again. He didn't understand a thing about what was going on. But he did know that he was Bakugo Katsuki, and when he had something - someone in this case - in mind, he didn't give up until he had it in his hands.

(Not proofread yet)

End note: I'm working late cause I'm a writer. I tried to make it longer because I made you wait a week for it, so enjoy! Todoroki making us our favorite drink? We know that since he discovered youtube shorts and reels (not tiktok because he is half boomer and socially awkward) he's been stuck with watching short videos every day, cocktail videos and house projects are his favorite, I have no doubt about that.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

taglist: @kiridagremiln @aefillor @screechingfangirlaf @chuugarettes @gold24fish @dreamcastgirl99 @andyetshewrote @budibbly @candiiee @linkfromskywardsword @galaneiaeris @fantasynerd05 @big-denki-energy @3thr3al @marsbars09 @whatswrong7 @scaranthropy @cc1306 @junehasnotbeenfound @jeanbabygirl @pirana10 @sappho-the-kitten-tamer @ahbeautifulexistence @polarbvnny @th0tformikasa @surprisemodafakas @xxjesshuxx @katsuisbaby @azzo0 @atashiboba @azzo0 @berryvioo @hiimsaraandyou @bizzybkd @regrexx @justsinri @slut-4-gojo @bexxs @lemuhr @monkeycheeks-lvl26 @tsukikoxo @sikuthealien @mia-luvs @dondeh-zedonutqueen @the-queen-yn @stardream14 @pretty-sparkle-bomb @itzjustj-1000 @m-atcha-tea @liluvtojineteyam @shosuki @v3n7s @yoyolovesdaiki @jenna-sakura @femi12hhf @aejabba @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere

taglist continues on the comments.

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ellieswrldd · 1 year

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*.✧ arabella ✧.*

pairing: brother's best friend! ellie williams x f!reader

summary: the last time ellie saw you, you were sweet and innocent. now, a year has passed and you've grown up.

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, a bit of angst, r has a tramp stamp (lower back tattoo) & is described to be a party girl, brief dry-humping/grinding, strap-on use (r!receiving), reverse cowgirl & doggystyle, praise & degradation, use of terms pretty girl & princess, ellie calls the strap her cock

a/n: very loosely inspired by that one ph video..iykyk! also, named after the am song bc i think it give the vibes i was going for teehee

The last time Ellie saw you, it was the summer before your freshman year of college. You were still rather innocent, not yet tainted by the bad behavior of others your age. You didn't party, kept away from alcohol and drugs, and preferred to spend your Friday nights reading in your room.

That was how she remembered you, her best friend's cute younger sister. She knew better than to get involved with you, honest to God, she did. The first day the two of you met, your brother had stated that if she were to get too close, she'd find herself with a black eye and a restraining order. But the last day before you left for college, Ellie found herself uneasy. She was nervous, nervous to be around you.

So when she found herself alone with you in your childhood bedroom, your brother stuffing your luggage into the car, Ellie felt herself losing her cool. It was an innocent kiss, sweet and meaningful. One that started when you began to pull away from her hug and looked at her with those beautiful doe-eyes. Her lips found yours with ease like she had been waiting for this moment. The sweet sigh that escaped you was what urged Ellie to pull away. She let her slim hands drop from your sides and turned away from you, awkwardly rubbing her neck. Ellie mumbled something along the lines of a 'sorry' and a 'goodbye' before going downstairs to talk to your brother. That was over a year ago when you were just nineteen. Now, you were back for the summer, excited to spend time with your brother after being swamped all year. You were different now, to say the least. Even though you were still funny and caring, you were far from the innocent girl Ellie once saw you as. You partied, you drank, and now you spent your Friday nights in the beds of hot girls who caught your eye. The morning after you arrived home, Ellie stumbled upon you in the kitchen. She was staying with your brother for the summer, and while she knew you would come home eventually, she didn't expect you to be so...changed.

You wore a fitted baby tee, cropped just above your navel, and a pair of snug, light-wash jean shorts that seemed to end right where your ass met your thighs. It was something Ellie would have never pictured you in.

You glanced at Ellie from where you stood in front of the fridge. "Oh, hey, Ellie," You greeted her softly, returning your focus to the contents of the refrigerator. "Y/n, I didn't know you were back." "Got in last night," You hummed, closing the fridge door with your hip. "Almost didn’t recognize you,” She chuckled awkwardly. “You seem..." "Sluttier?" You muttered. It wouldn't be your first, not even your third time hearing that one. It was a comment your old friends from high school loved to whisper to one another when encountering you on campus. "Older." Ellie rasped, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants and briefly looking down at her feet. "Hm," You shrugged and bent down to rifle through a cabinet under the kitchen counter. Ellie's breath hitched slightly when she caught a glimpse of thick, dark lines imprinted on your lower back when you bent down.

A tattoo? She thought to herself as a bright pink blush painted her cheeks. The old you would never get a tattoo, you were always scared of how permanent tattoos were.

"I think I'm going to go for a morning swim in the lake, want to join?" Your eyes darted over to her green ones as you asked. "I'll have to pass, maybe some other time," Ellie said. You shrugged and brushed past her to slip out the back door. Watching you walk down the grassy path toward the lake, Ellie groaned softly and turned to go back upstairs.

You weren’t the sweet, pure girl she once thought you to be. You were a woman now. And Ellie was fucking screwed.

~~~~

You found yourself on the couch with your brother and Ellie later that week. The sun was long gone, and the only sounds you could hear were the crickets in the backyard and the audio from the movie playing on the tv.

Your brother sat between you and Ellie, chewing loudly on popcorn and whispering little comments about the movie to Ellie as they watched.

You stared at the tv lamely, you eyes occasionally flicking over to Ellie’s face. She looked just as bored as you were, a little tense if that. Was your presence affecting her?

After the movie finished, your elder brother stretched his hands high above his head and yawned.

“I’m heading upstairs, you coming Ellie?” He asked as he stood from the couch.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She nodded and watched as he trudged up the stairs.

You flipped through the channels on the tv, purposefully staying silent as you felt Ellie’s eyes bore into you. It was the first time you two had been left alone with one another since your first morning back.

“It’s rude to stare, Els.” You mumbled as you put on another movie. You heard her take a deep breath and shift slightly.

“You’re fuckin’ killing me,” She whispered.

“Ellie—” You sighed.

“Listen, I shouldn’t have kissed you before you left. I know it was wrong.” Ellie interrupted. “But I don’t regret it, and I’m sorry for the pain I must’ve caused you.”

You turned to look at her finally.

“God, you’re such an asshole, Ellie.” You breathed.

“I know,” She said in a voice just louder than a whisper.

“After you kissed me, I lost myself a little bit. I was so confused and I didn’t want to even think about you,” You bit your lip. Every word you were saying was true, you didn’t want to think about Ellie, even just seeing your brother mention her name in a text made you think about the kiss.

You hated it, you didn’t want to think about the kiss because then your mind reminded you how she cowered away after. How she bolted the minute your lips parted. How the girl you had secretly pined after for so many years had simply left after kissing you.

It gave you a reason to drink, to party a little harder than you should’ve. You tried to forget, and you seeked comfort in the arms of different girls.

“And now, well now I’ve changed. I’m not that quiet girl who read on the porch while you did stick-and-poke tattoos with my brother beside me.” You laughed weakly. “I doubt that kiss meant anything to you, but it meant everything to me, and you fucking left without saying a word.”

Ellie stared at you for a moment, her mouth slightly open.

“You’re wrong,” She stated. “It meant so much to me, so much. It was shitty of me to kiss you then, but now that you know how I feel? I’m glad I did it. I would have talked to you and explained myself, I really would have, but I’m a fucking idiot, and I got scared. Does that make you feel better?” Ellie’s voice was a mix of a whisper and a shout as her wide eyes searched yours. Your breath stuttered slightly as you took in Ellie's expression. You had known her since you were merely ten years old when she was thirteen, and she had just met your brother. All those years of summers and weekends spent together, and you had never seen her look like this.

Her emerald eyes were full of need, love, and something else. Regret? Something like that. She looked thirsty, thirsty for your touch, your forgiveness, your loving.

Just like that moment a year ago, you leaned in your lips mere inches away from Ellie's. You felt her hot breath tickle your lips as she exhaled shakily. The sound of your brother walking down the stairs caused you to pull away from Ellie. He rifled through a cabinet, presumably looking for a midnight snack as you stood from the couch. Without another word, you walked past him and went to your room. You typed a quick message and sent it to Ellie. R: come to my room once my brother is asleep? E: I'll be there. Waiting for her was torturous, like waiting for a storm during a drought. Everything was on the table now after both of you completely spilled your hearts out of one another. Hearing that gentle knock on your door made your heart race. With a low creak, you opened your wooden door and tugged Ellie inside your room.

It was still girlish and organized from your high school years, tiny Polaroids and colorful posters littered your walls. It was home, like a snapshot of your old self. Ellie looked at you with an unreadable expression, her hands slowly finding their way to your waist.

“Tell me you want this,” She breathed, leaning her forehead against yours and closing her eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve wanted anything more.” You placed your hands on both sides of her face and leaned in to gently brush your lips against hers. It was just the ghost of a kiss, but as soon as it happened, it was like something snapped inside both of you.

Gentle, loving kisses quickly turned into ones full of fiery and heated passion. Ellie's hands roamed your body, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer to her. Stumbling backward, your legs hit the edge of your bed, and you tugged Ellie down with you. She giggled softly against your skin, pulling you to straddle her hips. "I've wanted this..." Ellie groaned softly as your teeth sunk into the sensitive skin of her neck. "For so long..." She whispered and let her eyes shut. Her hands gripped at the flesh of your ass, slowly grinding your crotch against hers. A sharp gasp left your puffy lips as the friction rubbed against your clit and sent a wave of pleasure through you. "My brother would kill you if he knew," You whimpered as her hands moved your hips back and forth against hers. "So don't let him find out," Ellie chuckled and brushed her calloused thumb against your cheek. "Stay quiet, and we'll be fine. Yeah?" With that, she dragged your clothed cunt across her own, letting out ragged breaths as the two of you needily ground your hips against one another. "M-More, Ellie," You whispered as you grasped tightly at the hem of her t-shirt. "What do you need? My fingers?" She squeezed your ass. "Well," You bit your lip and hesitantly climbed off Ellie. You knelt down to the side of your bed and grabbed a box from underneath your bed. Just about the size of a shoe box, Ellie looked at you with a questioning expression. "I have this, it's brand new." Shyly, you passed a thick purple strap-on to Ellie, your face hot as she glanced at it. "Have you...used one of these before?" She asked cautiously. Ellie was soaked at the mere idea of fucking you with a strap, but she didn't want to rush you into anything you weren't completely sure of. You nodded slowly. "Have you?" She bit her cheek and nodded as well. It wasn't surprising, Ellie had been popular with girls since the beginning of high school and was far from a virgin. "Okay, are you sure you want this? 'Cause once we do this, there isn't any going back." Ellie murmured as she leaned in close to your face. "I'm sure, Els." You kissed her softly and watched as she quickly stripped herself of her baggy sweatpants. Ellie slid the dark straps around her hips, allowing the strap-on to rest comfortably over her navy blue boxers. Effortlessly, she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor of your dark room. She chuckled softly when she caught you staring at her toned torso. "Can't fuck you with your clothes on, princess." Ellie grinned and glanced down at your flowy pajama shorts. You tugged your shorts off first, then your shirt came off, leaving you in only your panties. "Jesus Christ...what am I supposed to do with you?" Ellie mumbled as she watched you lay back on the bed and spread your legs for her. "Whatever you want," Ellie narrowed her eyes slightly, tracing over your nude figure. "Get up," You wasted no time obeying her command, standing up and waiting at the edge of the bed for her next instruction. She sat down on your bed, stretching out her legs and leaning against your headboard. Ellie pat her thigh. "C'mon," You straddle her hips, the dildo resting against your backside as you kiss her feverishly. Ellie took a deep breath and slid her hand past the waistband of your panties, and gently touched your sensitive clit. She brushed the tip of her middle finger along your aching slit, mouth falling slightly agape as her finger slid against your wetness. "So fucking wet," You gasped sharply and bucked your hips against her touch. "Bet you don't even need my fingers, already so wet for me, could probably just put the strap in right now," Ellie muttered against your ear as her fingers teased you. "P-Please..." "Please what?" Ellie cooed, her hands drifting to palm at the exposed skin of your ass. "Fuck me, please fuck me," Ellie chuckled and pat your hip.

“Turn around, pretty girl,” You bit your bottom lip and slowly turned your back to Ellie, your hips hovering over hers as you tentatively waited for her next instruction. "Look, you can see yourself in the mirror," Ellie grinned and pointed to the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room that was angled toward the bed. "Raise your hips and keep your eyes on the mirror." Your gaze drifted back to the mirror, one your brother and Ellie had put together for you many summers ago. The sight you saw in the reflection was wrong, it was all plain wrong. Your brother's childhood best friend aligning the tip of the strap with your entrance, your panties pushed to the side, and concentration painting her face. A choked moan escaped your lips as Ellie gently pulled your hips down onto the dildo. You covered your mouth with a shaky hand, a weak attempt at muffling the cries of pleasure that left you. "That's it, yeah, ride me, pretty girl," Ellie guided your hips, her hands splayed out across your ass, two thumbs aligning with the dimples of your lower back. She watched in awe as you began to follow her lead, slowly bouncing on her strap. "Takin' me so good- knew you'd be all ready for my cock," Ellie grunted. You felt her thumbs swipe back and forth against your lower back as she mumbled incoherent praises. "God, you're so sexy...fucking love this tattoo..." Ellie breathed heavily as she stared at the dark ink that painted your skin.

It didn't take long for you to begin moving without her guidance. Your slow movements turned frantic and needy while pleasure burned deep inside of you. You had been fucked with strap-ons before, but it had never felt quite like this. This was more than just meaningless sex. With each buck of your hips, each movement you made, the strap pushed against your g-spot and ever so slightly brushed against your cervix, stimulating all of the most sensitive spots inside of you. "E-Ellie-" You whimpered, reaching a hand behind you. Ellie groaned and quickly intertwined a hand with yours. "Holy fuck," She whispered as she looked over at your reflection in the mirror. Your breasts bounced slightly every time you quickly sunk down onto the toy, and your expression twisted into one of pure ecstasy. Not to mention, the way your ass rippled when the skin slapped against hers made Ellie nearly lose her mind. Everything was too much, and she could hardly decide where to keep her eyes, or her hands for that matter. Her large hands squeezed at the fat of your ass, digging her fingers into your skin. Then she slapped the flesh playfully, just enough for the sting to fade into pleasure.

"I-I'm gonna-" You gasped sharply as you felt a familiar tension growing deep inside you. "Get on your hands and knees. I'll get you there, princess," Ellie murmured. You nodded and did as she said, leaning forward into doggy style. Ellie paused for a moment to realign the strap with your cunt and to grasp at the waistband of your panties. Soon, Ellie began to thrust into you quickly and deeply. She dragged your hips against hers by the band of your underwear, pulling you back and forth on her fake cock like you were some sort of doll for her to use. A loud smack echoed throughout your bedroom when Ellie slapped your ass. You moaned into the fluffy bedsheets you were pressed up against. "My brother- he's gonna hear us-" You whined as you glanced back at Ellie with glassy eyes. "Don't worry about that, pretty girl, he sleeps like the dead." Ellie laughed softly as she plunged deep inside of you. "Oh! There! Right there!" You practically sobbed when she repeated the same movement over and over again until your legs were shaking. On the verge of your orgasm, your body buzzed with pleasure, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. "Mmh- Els, m'gonna.." "Yeah, cum for me princess, cum all over my cock." She whispered as her thumbs traced the intricate lines of your tattoo and her hips slapped against yours. One of her hands slid around your waist and moved down to begin quickly circling your clit. Ellie was desperate to get you off, she wanted to watch as you lost control of your body and experienced an intense orgasm. That was enough to push you over the edge, you screamed into the bedsheets as you felt your body stiffen and shake against Ellie's. Her thrusts slowed but didn't completely stop, as she wanted to prolong that climax as much as she could. Your senses were clouded with nothing but white-hot pleasure while you rode out the rest of your orgasm. After what felt like a few very long moments, Ellie slowly pulled out of you and sat back on the bed. She undid the straps on her hips and placed the toy on your bedside table. "C'mere, pretty girl..." She cooed softly as she gently picked you up and pulled you into her arms. Ellie lay with you in the bed, her fingers lightly tracing patterns along the skin of your back as she cuddled you. "You did so good, you're so perfect..." She said quietly. You hummed softly in response and closed your eyes. "You better get back to my brother's room, he wouldn't be happy to see you coming out of my room in the morning." "I know, but I'll stay until you fall asleep. Don't worry about me, princess." And for once, you listen to her. You focused on the heat Ellie's body radiated against yours and how peaceful you felt in her loving embrace. It felt right. --- tags: @asteroidzzzn , @ellabsprincess , @ximtiredx

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muniimyg · 1 year

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1.5: ah, shit 》 series m.list

note: look at me go with the updates :o

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main

“Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

Jungkook makes a face at you, unable to hold his laughter in. “This is too good. Golden even. I can’t believe my luck today—”

“You know what? Forget about it. My bad,” you mumble, beginning to feel embarrassed.

Jungkook had just entered your bedroom and found you opening a box of condoms. He isn’t too sure why the sight of you doing so was so hilarious, he just knows it is.

“W-what? No!” Jungkook begins to plead, taking the box of condoms from your hands and putting them aside. “___, of course, I wanna fuck. What kind of fucking idiot do you think I am? And XL? You must’ve thought about me a lot, huh?”

“Fuck you.”

“Sure," he takes this moment in, “is now a good time?”

You cross your arms at him, giving him an annoyed look. “Why are you laughing then?”

“Because… I didn’t think this would happen again.” Jungkook confesses, a little afraid of your reaction. When to comes to other peoples feelings, you’re not the soft type. Yet, when it comes to your own; you are almost always overly sensitive. He’s learned this about you simply over time. It’s endearing to him and annoying to others.

You shrug at him, taking an article of your clothing off. Tossing it at him, you gesture for him to do the same. He then pulls his sweater over his head and drops it on the ground along with your shirt. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you as you begin to strip more and more. His eyes follow each curve that gets exposed and he can’t help but wonder why his throat is suddenly dry. It’s weird because he swears he’s probably drooling right now.

When you’re down to just your panties and bra, you take a step towards him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he gulps as you inch closer to him. You’d be an idiot not to notice his sudden change of stance.

It’s obvious.

Jungkook has folded.

“Do you have feelings for me, Jungkook?”

You ask him this calmly.

Your words and the tone you used to ask don’t seem to match. The words itself carry so much possibility of change and chance… Yet, the way you said it was so distant and meaningless. It’s like it wasn’t a big deal. It’s like… It didn’t even matter if he said yes.

He takes a moment too long to answer.

“Spit it out, you little shit.”

“N-no,” he attempts to sound convincing. You had already made him a fool once this evening… He wasn’t going to let you have the victory of being a joke to you again. “It’s you. You like me.”

Tilting your head, you pout at him. “Don’t make assumptions. Your ego won’t be able to handle rejection.”

“I’m not assuming and you’re not exactly rejecting me,” he grumbles, feeling defensive. “Just admit it. You’ve wanted me the second we met.”

You wiggle your finger at him. “Stop projecting, pookie bear.”

Jungkook makes a sour face. “Ohh… Yeah, it does sound bad.”

“See?” you laugh, hitting his chest lightly.

“How about… I stop calling you pookie bear—”

You gasp, “okay! Loving this…”

“When you stop denying—”

In a panic, you interrupt him; “hating it…”

“Come on,” he groans. “You have to admit it. You like me at least a little bit… That’s why you and I fucked a month ago. It was all the built-up tension.” He says it like he knows it in his heart. Like there’s no other answer than what he just stated. For a moment, you believe him.

Instead, you remember that night and you recall what had led up to it. You had just gotten dumped for the nth time by your shithead of a boyfriend. Jungkook saw you walking home and cheered you up to your apartment. From there, it just happened.

It was so easy.

It felt so effortless and like it was meant to happen. That understanding… Felt weird. You did your best to forget about it and how it made you feel but it takes two to tango and your partner in crime felt differently. Ever since that day, he has not shut the fuck up.

That day, Jungkook found himself in between your legs and you found yourself self-loathing the next morning. It wasn’t in your intentions to use Jungkook the way you did.. But he didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Which brings you to this conclusion:

“What are you trying to get out of me, Jungkook? A confession?”

He shrugs, feeling indifferent. “I’m not demanding anything from you.”

You shake your head at him. “What the fuck? Jungkook, you can’t be my rebound.”

“Why not?” he whines childishly.

“It’s mean.”

Jungkook takes a moment to contemplate. Ultimately, he snaps out of it and brushes his thoughts off as if he didn’t even try to think things through. “It’s okay. I have a crush on you so I’m going into this completely delusional and shit.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you pinch his cheeks. “Can you stop goofing around? Be real. I might be more interested in you if you do.”

He glares at you.

“Fine,” Jungkook gives in. “I’m just fucking with you. To be honest, I’m just trying to be here for you. As a friend and all… If fucking around is what you need, then so be it. Whatever you want from me, you can have. You just have to ask.”

You purse your lips at him, not buying a single word he offers you. Regardless, you inch closer. Bantering with him is actual agony… But, you can’t resist him. It’s a weird pull he has on you and you rather die than to admit it to him.

Instead, you let your actions speak for you. It’s the most you’ll do in terms of confessing or even processing how you feel about him. All you know and all you want to know is how he feels against, inside, and on top of your body. You your lips on his neck, near his collarbone. At first, you kiss it lightly. Then, as you pull away, you suck on it a bit. Repeating this motion, you work on giving him a hickey.

“I…”

“You?”

“I wanna fuck.”

Your room looks the same as it did a month ago. He feels so lucky to be here again.. But holy shit; you're a piece of work.

Is he a joke to you? Is that it? Because Jungkook has been in complete distress for a good five minutes now and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Fucking hold still,” Jungkook grunts, as he pins you down. His hands cover your wrist and all you can do is giggle. He does his best to compose himself. If he lets his emotions get in the way, you'll laugh even more.

“I can’t—it’s poking me!”

He rolls his eyes at you. “It's my dick, ___. Of course, it's gonna feel like that."

"It feels weird,” you giggle. “Why is it so big?”

"Don't call my dick weird.”

You squint at him. “I also called it big.”

“Well, it’s gonna stop being big if you don’t stop fucking laughing at it.”

You tighten your lips. “Sorry, sorry.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and tries again.

He guides himself between your folds and glances at you to see if you’re behaving any better. Holding in your laughter, you shut your eyes and try to concentrate on how it feels.

How velvety the skin of his thick, veiny, and hard cock is. How wet the head is. How big it is as he pushes himself inside you.

You open your eyes and boom.

There he is.

So handsome and on top of you. His silver neckless dangles in the space between you and him. Your eyes flutter at the way it moves according to his thrusts. It feels like you could go dizzy.

Then, you blink and see him suddenly close his eyes and lean in towards you. Out of an odd relfex, you squirm and let out a loud burst of laughter.

“What the fuck?” Jungkook cries, completely frustrated with you. “___, are you serious?”

In between laughs, you tell him; “I was trying! But you were leaning in to kiss me and the way you shut your eyes looked so stupid—you look so s-stupid—w-what the fuck?”

Jungkook grips your wrists and puts them above your head. He towers over you even more and the expression on his face is hard to read. He looks angry but not in a scary way. He looks desperate and needy but not in the loser way… He looks insanely hot right now. You feel yourself clench, getting tighter around him.

“You love fucking with me, don’t you?” he hisses. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

You nod in response.

“Then fucking behave.”

You nod again.

He shakes his head, dissatisfied with your response. He lets go of your wrists and cups your cheeks together with his one hand. With your lips smushed together, he asks you; “answer me properly.”

“Y-yes,” you murmur, “I’ll behave.”

Cockily, he raises his brow at you. “Good. Now open your mouth.”

You do as he says. He loosens his hold on you, letting you open your mouth on your own. When you do so, you watch him accumulate spit. Quickly, he spits inside your mouth.

You spit it back out at him.

“Sike.”

His own saliva hits his face. Jungkook briefly turns away, biting his inner cheek in annoyance.

“You wanna play fucking games? Fine. Let’s fucking play games.” Jungkook practically growls.

You gulp, trying your best to keep a straight face. It wasn’t funny anymore. Instead, everything was beginning to feel hot and heavy. His cock stays inside you and you can feel him throbbing. You want him to move now.

Maybe you made the wrong move.

But it’s too late.

Jungkook’s mind has been made up and his pride can’t take any more shit you’ve given him all night. Sometimes, you forget how much of a man he is. You’ve only pushed boundaries as friends as a joke… And you barely remember what it was like sleeping with him a month ago… Was he always like this?

You feel sick to your stomach when you realize; you like it.

The rest of the night continues with Jungkook’s nasty mouth all over your body. It’s like every crevasse was for him to discover and claim as his. He took his time, pumping himself inside you. He took his time even more when he kissed you.

It was so slow and wet, but with every thrust and kiss—oh, were you fucked out of your mind.

His hands were all over you. It wasn’t exactly mind-blowing sex but it wasn’t too far from it either. Everything he did just felt so right and that surprised you. Contrary to popular belief; Jungkook was no fuckboy. He simply knew how to fuck.

God bless that fact.

He has always been that silly goofy friend in your circle of people. He has always been kind and a little flirty… But he was also really self-aware and brought a lot of meaning into every friendship. Perhaps, that’s why you ended up turning the other cheek and dating guys opposite of him.

If you were to be with Jungkook, it would be too real.

It would be too good and that’s what scared you…

Ah, shit.

How could you ever get over something this good?

#bts fic #bts smau #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fwb #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine

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moonlightspencie · 1 year

Text

bloodmoonlit

Description: Six years of friendship with more simmering beneath the surface. They thought they had no chance (but that’s romance).

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: drinking (a lot of it tbh), both of em being massive dorks, 18+ pls bc it gets mildly spicy at the end

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: glitch is one of the best songs on midnights & nobody can convince me otherwise. anyways i didn’t proofread this sorry but i’m selfish

She was a hunter. He was… Also a hunter. Classic meet-cutes get a lot less cute when you’re meeting over the corpse of a wendigo.

Dean looked at her with awe and wonder after watching her use a flamethrower to take down a few wendigos that had started in on him. She lowered it like it was nothing after they stopped screeching into the night.

“Hey,” she greeted with a little smile. “You’re one of the Winchester boys, aren’t you?”

“Dean.”

“You’re like a modern-day folklore story, you know that?”

He chuckled, sure to make a comment about the flamethrower at the first chance. He got her number at the second chance.

They made fast friends at that point, both relentlessly flirting. Both never quite sure to what degree the other meant it.

Dean always found himself making trips towards wherever she was more often that what may be considered necessary. She never intentionally ran into him, but if she saw that impala roll up to a case, she always obliged her time. Especially if that meeting happened in a crowded bar where she could relish in the feeling of his attention being placed on her rather than anyone else who would immediately say yes to a night at his motel. Those green eyes sparkling as he chatted her up like they were the closest of friends.

Until they were the closest of friends, of course.

“How’s, uh…” Dean trailed, trying to think. “Was it Matthew?”

She snorted. “Didn’t last long.”

“Why not?”

“Never do,” she said curtly, sipping at her drink. “Non-hunter relationships don’t exactly work for me. They end up with too many questions too quick.”

He hummed, looking down at his own drink. She watched him for a moment, letting herself take a moment to admire the way neon lights bounced off his face. He always seemed to look extra pretty that way.

“Situationships,” she stated as a start, “That’s what pretty much everything I get into ends up as. Whatever works in the moment, no real strings.”

“And yet you always talk about wanting to be tied down,” he said with a smirk.

“Always is a big word,” she replied with a laugh. “I think someday I’d like that. Just don’t think it’s compatible with who I am right now.”

“You think you’re gonna change?”

“I’m always changing. That’s life, right?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve changed much.”

She laughed.

“I’ve known you for a year, and even in that time you’ve gotten a little different.”

He quirked a brow. “How so?”

“Laugh a little less, but still seem a bit happier. More accepting of life as it is, I guess.”

He sat with that for a moment, then nodded.

“I’ve had to. Every time I get stubborn, I end up screwing everything up.”

“Hey,” she said softly, pulling him out of his own head before he dug too deep, “You’re always learning. Always growing. Don’t beat yourself up.”

He smiled softly, letting her words carry him out of that out. They tended to do that more and more as he faced everything the world threw at him. His affection slowly morphed into more, and he tried not to panic about it. He did what he always did best: buried it as deep as it could go.

She realized her own feelings shifting, but her realization slammed into her like a truck. They were supposed to be just friends.

It all started with little chance meetings which turned into weekly calls which turned into “Do you want to stay with Sam and I? We’ve got a permanent place now”.

She ended up moving in shortly after the boys did. Three years of knowing them, she never expected to be living with them. Especially after all they’d gone through.

Granted, she helped with some of it. She was there when they had to cram Sam’s soul back in his body. She was there for the rise and fall of Dick. She was there when Dean came back from Purgatory.

She just wasn’t constantly with them. Only a kind of side-character in their grand adventure. Now, however…

“I think that’s all,” she said, dropping a few bags on her bed.

“Oh, right, because this isn’t over-doing it at all,” Dean said, humor lacing his voice.

She narrowed her eyes at him, then looked back around the empty room.

“I just— I’m excited to feel at home. I haven’t had a real place in…” she stopped, sighing.

“Yeah, I get it,” Dean spoke up, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “I was so excited to have my own bed, you have no clue.”

“I have some clue. You sent me like fifteen messages about it within the span of ten seconds,” she laughed.

“I love that memory foam, what can I say?”

“How about you get useful and help me set up shop here?” she asked, smiling at him as he already started pulling items out of the bags.

The bunker was like a hunter paradise in her eyes. She got the chance to have a place to call home. She got her own room, a million lore books, Dean, a place to do some baking, her favorite mug…

Wait. She couldn’t find her mug.

“Dean, where’d you put my mug?” she called out before he even got to the kitchen

“Stop calling me out before I’m even in the room. It’s creepy,” he said with a chuckle, walking in.

“Can’t help it. I know how you sound walkin’ around in here.”

She turned from the kitchen counter where the coffee was brewing. He watched her for a moment, smile still stuck in place.

“So?” she asked.

He raised a brow. “So…?”

She sighed. “My mug?”

“Oh,” he exclaimed, walking further towards her to open the fridge. “Made soup the other day and didn’t have any clean bowls.”

He pulled out the soup-filled mug, handing it in her direction. She quirked a brow, looking inside of it.

“I ain’t cleaning that out.��

He sighed dramatically, walking towards the sink.

“Guess I’ll do it. Princess can’t handle a few chunks of chicken in her precious mug.”

She smacked his arm lightly, scoffing.

“You’re the one who put chicken in it in the first place. You know that’s my favorite mug.”

He smirked, silently cleaning it out for her. When he was finished he turned, handing it off as he leaned against the counter.

“If my coffee is soup-flavored I’m going to have Cas smite you,” she mumbled, pouring it full.

She filled up another mug she’d pulled down in the meantime, sliding it to Dean.

“And yet, you still get me my coffee,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She hid a smile, shaking her head as she prepared hers.

“You know you love me,” he sang to her, heading towards the library.

She followed after, not even realizing what she was doing until she was halfway there. It was like they were attached at the hip.

They practically were over the following months, never not wanting to do everything together.

“Come on, Sam,” she whined. “You’re no fun.”

He smirked, attempting to leave the kitchen.

“Not all of us want to get plastered on a Tuesday night.”

“Speak for yourself” Dean said with a sparkle in his eye. He looked at Y/N. “You love getting screwed by me, right? Oh, sorry, with me.”

“Oh, yeah. My favorite activity, actually,” she said back with a smirk.

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes as he stood.

“I think I’m about done listening to you two flirt, anyways.”

“Aww,” she started, leaning closer to where he stood. “You gettin’ jealous, Sammy?”

“I’m getting grossed out,” he laughed. “Goodnight.”

The two at the table said a quick goodnight, turning back to their drinks and their jokes in an instant.

“Maybe we just need to sweat it out,” he jokes, brows dancing suggestively.

She laughed. “In your dreams, Winchester. We’ve gone almost six years without a slip-up, do you really think now’s a good time to break that record?”

He contemplated for a moment, fully believing it was a good time to break it. He couldn’t think of a better time with the exception of five-and-a-half years ago. But, he decided to actually use his brain.

“Guess you’re right.”

She smiled, pretending not to be thinking about the fact that she definitely thought she was all wrong. She really though that he should have known better than anyone that she believed records were made to be broken.

“I’m always right.”

“Now you’re dreaming,” he said with a chuckle, tossing back the rest of his drink.

He poured two shots, sliding one to her.

“Here’s to almost six years— what, like, five years and ten months? Something like that?”

She nodded. “July 7th.”

He stilled a moment, not thinking about the fact that of course she would remember the day they met.

“How many days is that?”

She hummed, playing into his little game as she pulled out her phone. She typed away until she got her answer:

“2119 days if I did the math right.”

“Nineteen or ninety?”

“Nineteen.”

“What do you say we have a special celebration if we get to twenty one ninety, then?”

She snorted. “What do you constitute as special?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he winked, tossing back his shot.

She mirrored his actions, then quickly typed away again.

“What do you know? 2190 is exactly the six year mark,” she smirked. “Alright. Deal.”

Weeks passed, and life was shockingly normal in that time. Well, normal for their standards, which still included all the things that go bump in the night. After a particularly long hunt, getting back to the bunker was a relief.

All three of them went to their respective rooms to get some rest, but, as had become a pattern, Dean went knocking on Y/N’s door. She opened with a tired smile, inviting him in.

They sat around, talking about whatever topics came to mind, listening to music playing in the background. When conversation fell quiet, an idea struck her like lightening.

“Come on, Dean. A little dancing wouldn’t kill ya,” she said, moving a little to the music.

He laughed, watching her from her bed. She held out her hands, and finally took them after a few seconds. She could be very convincing, he thought.

They jumped around the room in an un-choreographed, ridiculous, messy dance that left both of them giggling and out of breath. Her music wasn’t always his style, but he sure didn’t mind listening to her sing every word with a passion as if she’d written them herself.

“See? You love this,” she exclaimed as the upbeat song faded out.

“Only because you’re making me,” he smiled.

She laughed again, starting to turn when a slow song started going. He didn’t let her get far, however, pulling her back into his chest by the hand. He played it off all nonchalant at first, ignoring the smile on her face as a bit he always liked to play anytime he started being affectionate in an unconventional way.

“Really?” she asked.

She reached up, fingertips brushing against his jaw so that he’d look at her again. He smiled softly when she did, just watching her for a few seconds.

“You wanted to dance. We’re dancing,” he said, swaying along to the melody.

“Such a gentleman.”

He smirked, not letting up in the dance. She gave in, resting her head against his shoulder as the music played. He closed his eyes, resting his cheek against her and letting the smell of her perfume lull him in the dance more than the song could. Her gentle humming put a smile on his face that he was grateful she couldn’t see: he was certain he’d look like a lovesick puppy.

As the song faded out, she finally pulled away enough to see him again, both of them still moving as another faded in. She looked at him with a glimmer in her eyes. He took in a slow breath, watching her face for a few moments, their movements slowing. He wanted to kiss her more than anything. So, he took an action:

“I’m gonna grab a drink.”

He untethered himself from her, quickly making an exit to leave her alone and deeply confused.

She sat in the library a few days later, reading a book she found on werewolf mating habits.

“What do ya got, there?” Sam asked, walking into the room.

She glanced up, a brow raised. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”

Sam snorted. “Alright.”

“You need something?”

She closed the book, setting it down on the table.

“Yeah. Do you want to hang out? I just hooked up a new TV in my room.”

“Sure,” she shrugged. “When?”

“I’m making popcorn right now.”

She laughed, agreeing as she got up. She got comfortable in his room, back against the headboard of his bed. He walked in a minute later, handing over the bowl of popcorn as he settled in.

“Is Dean coming?” she asked.

“No. He went out for the night.”

“Ah,” she said softly after a beat.

Sam straightened up, looking at her.

“He didn’t invite you?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“He always does. Why not now?”

She sighed, settling into the cushions, still looking ahead.

“I think I freaked him out. We were in my room the other night, and I asked him to dance with me. He did, but then… I don’t know,” she shrugged. “After a couple songs he left fast and he’s definitely been pulling away from me since then.”

“Hey,” he called, grabbing her attention. “Anyone who doesn’t appreciate you isn’t worth your time. You know that, right?”

“Thanks, Sammy,” she smiled, looking down again. “I just keep getting in my own head.”

“When aren’t you?” he joked.

“You jerk,” she said, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “I’m trying to be, like, open right now.”

“I know,” he drawled, leaning his head against hers.

She brushed a few pieces of his hair off her forehead.

“Maybe I just need to go out and have some fun myself,” she said after a moment.

He perked up.

“Dude, yeah!”

He stood abruptly, holding out his hands for her. She took them, standing slowly, and looking around the room for some stray confidence so that she wouldn’t back out.

“Tell you what,” Sam started, giving her the hope she wanted, “You go get ready, and we’ll head out together. I’ll be your wingman.”

She smiled. “That sounds great. I immediately wasn’t sure about heading off by myself.”

“I could tell,” he laughed.

She got ready in record time, putting on her favorite dress for good measure. They left the bunker, hitting a nearby bar that didn’t have an impala parked anywhere close.

“They’re just… giving me nothing,” she said with a sigh, slumping in the seat next to Sam at the bar.

“What do you mean? That last guy looked really into it.”

“He was. He was also into talking about his ex-girlfriend within the first few minutes of conversation,” she snorted. “I think I’m asking too much. I should just find someone and make out with ‘em.”

“You sure about that?”

She looked at Sam again, a smile breaking out.

“No. But if we do another shot, I might be.”

He sighed, obliging her only because he knew she’d do it without him anyways. They threw back the shots, and he wished her luck as she went off in search of someone who wanted nothing but a good time.

Well, kind of a good time. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to take some dude home.

She went onto the dance-floor, deciding she’d let someone come to her rather than prowling for herself, and got her wish pretty fast. A moderately attractive man caught her hand as she swayed around by herself, asking for a dance. She plastered on a smile as she agreed, letting him take the lead.

“What’s your name?” he asked over the music.

“Do you really want to know?” she teased.

He smirked. “Guess it’s more fun not to know, huh?”

She smiled again, pulling him down to her lips as they moved to the music. She closed her eyes, appreciating the ease at which she got what she wanted. The only problem is that she couldn’t help imagining it was Dean instead of Unnamed Bar-Goer.

Regardless, she justified that they were merely using each other, so who cares if she let her mind run a little wild?

She only backed away when he started getting a little handsy for her tastes. She thanked him for his time, walking away and back to Sam. He raised his brows when she came back.

“Hey, looks like you got it,” he said, watching her sit. “Also looks like you aren’t too happy.”

“Still giving me absolutely nothing,” she said with a sigh. “Not a damn thing.”

He chuckled. “Maybe this plan didn’t work out so well.”

“Still got to drink with my favorite giant,” she noted with a wink and nudge.

“Ha ha. Real flattering, thanks.”

He rolled his eyes, but let himself smirk when she wasn’t paying much attention. They sat talking at the bar for another hour or so before Sam decided to call it a night. She linked an arm around Sam’s as they walked out of the bar, definitely a little more drunk than she intended to get.

Dean walked into the bunker, spirits effectively dampened. His attempt to get his mind off of his I-almost-kissed-her moment didn’t work in the slightest, and now he was in a sour mood as a result.

His mood only worsened when he saw Sam and Y/N stumbling into the kitchen, the latter a drunken mess in an outfit he liked a little too much. He watched as Sam helped her into the room, practically propping her up against the counter.

“What the hell?” Dean asked as his brother got a glass from the cupboard.

“What?” Sam defended, filling up the cup with water.

“For one, why is she laughing at herself against the kitchen counter?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “We went out.”

He walked over to Y/N, handing her the glass. She sipped at the water, then set it down just as quickly.

“Done,” she cheered.”

“No, you’re not,” Sam said, picking up the water and giving it right back to her. “Come on, you’re going to be hungover tomorrow.”

She refused the drink, kicking off her shoes. Then, she turned to level her gaze at Dean as he sipped on a beer.

“And where did you go run off to?”

He raised his brows. “Does it matter?”

“Yeah,” she stated with finality.

“Out.”

“Get lucky?” she asked, more bitterness in her tone than she meant to let out.

“No.”

She rolled her eyes, then glanced at Sam again.

“Wanna go hang out and read? I found a book about how werewolves get it on,” she said, giggling as she ended the sentence.

“What?”

Dean spoke up again. “Since when do you go out and get drunk without a reason?”

She snapped back to him. “Since I was celebrating me. I’m done chasing after guys who don’t want— What was it, Sam? Like if they don’t appreciate me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked back, setting down his drink.

“Sammy, I wanna talk to Dean by myself,” she managed to say, hardly looking at him.

“I don’t know—”

“Sam,” she cut him off, watching him.

He put his hands up in defense, walking out of the room. She watched until he left, then looked at Dean again. He glanced sideways at her as she swayed slightly while she stood.

“You know, those six years are coming up real soon, De,” she said, staring from across the counter.

“Are they?” he asked, wondering where this was going.

“Mhm. One more week I think,” she hiccuped. “Sorry.”

He furrowed his brow. “You’re drunk.”

“I tried kissing someone today,” she said, words tumbling out fast like she couldn’t control them. “I hated it.”

He paused, unsure why she was saying this. His heart hurt more than he thought it would, hearing her admit that.

“Why?” was all he could manage.

“Why’d you go out without me?” she countered. “You never go out without me, not since we met.”

He sighed, eyes closing as he braced himself against the counter. He heard her as she got closer, eventually leaning her head against his arm.

“I’m glad you didn’t go home with anyone today.”

He swallowed, unable to look at her. “Yeah. I— I was gonna try, to be honest, but…”

“I’m gonna throw up,” she said, suddenly moving to the sink.

He followed after swiftly, helping her as best as he could. He pulled her hair back gently as she emptied her stomach into the kitchen sink.

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” he said softly, rubbing her back with the hand that wasn’t holding her hair. “Get it all out.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, sniffling.

“I’ve seen you worse,” he said with a smirk. “That upset about what I said?”

If she had been a touch more sober, she might have realized he was joking. Unfortunately, she took it completely literally.

“I didn’t mean to. I just thought about you and some—”

“Whoa, whoa. Hold on, I wasn’t—” he paused as she stood again, running the sink to clear it out. He turned it off again, impatient. “What are you talking about?”

“What?”

He watched her as she straightened herself out, pulling down the skirt of the dress she was in where it had ridden up.

“You threw up over me mentioning—”

“Dean.”

“Why?”

She sighed, leaning down to rest her head on the counter.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You kissed someone. I didn’t even get that far.”

“Why do you care?” she asked, standing again, and nearly falling over.

He caught her gently, but kept his hard tone as he responded to her.

“Why do you?”

“Because I just do, Dean.”

“You’re so freaking stubborn,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“You’re one to talk. This is all your fault anyways.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, annoyance in his voice.

“It’s your fault,” she said, punctuating the phrase with a slap to his chest.

“Yeah? And how’s that?”

“You should’ve just kissed me instead of chickening out and running away like a little boy.”

He was stunned into silence, his anger dissipating and then quickly returning.

“If you hadn’t made me dance with you, I wouldn’t have been all in your face in the first place,” he shot back.

“You’re such a dick,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Six years of not chasing anyone but you, and for what? You’re acting like a bitch.”

“Well, jokes on you, sweetheart,” he exclaimed, opening up his arms. “Hasn’t even been six years.”

“Great! Let’s hope we never get there, then!”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not the one who ran off to get a hookup because I couldn’t handle my feelings.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, you just ran off to make out with someone because you couldn’t handle your feelings.”

“Why do you feel the need to make everything so difficult?”

“Because you’re the most difficult person I’ve ever met,” he said, voice raising to an octave you didn’t often hear. “How else am I supposed to deal with you?”

She groaned in frustration, pushing past him to leave. She stalked out of the kitchen, only making it so far as the hallway before she was getting pulled back.

“Stop it, Dean,” she all but yelled.

He rolled his eyes, pulling her closer and leaning down to kiss her. One hand found her face, a surprisingly gentle touch in comparison to how intense the kiss was. She felt like she couldn’t catch her breath, a smile on her face as he finally gave in. He pulled back a moment later, though not without an internal struggle.

“The douchebag at the bar kiss you like that?” he mumbled against her lips.

“Not exactly,” she sighed. “What took you so long?”

“You weren’t making moves either, loser,” he said with a laugh.

“You didn’t exactly make yourself out to be available, De.”

“And you did? You literally told me I wouldn’t get you in my wildest dreams a few weeks ago.”

She paused, a smile spreading to her face.

“Touché.”

“How about now?”

She quirked a brow. “You propositioning me, Winchester?”

“If I was, what would you say to that?”

“I’d say that I think there must be some technical malfunctions in the universe for me to get that lucky.”

He smirked, slowly backing her until she was pressed against the wall.

“Early celebration?”

“Only if we still celebrate when we hit twenty one ninety,” she said with a smile. “Gotta safeguard, here. Easier for me to make sure this doesn’t become a one-time thing.”

“You think I’d be able to stop after one time? It’s you,” he said, moving in closer. Her arms wound around his neck. “I’ve been holding out for six years.”

“Not quite.”

“Mm. Close enough.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, this time slow and soft. She kissed back, glad to finally know what his lips felt like against hers. He let his hands wander, holding to her hips and sliding down further.

“You look real pretty in this dress,” he mumbled between kisses.

“Was hoping you’d see it and like it,” she smiled, nipping at his lip. “Just don’t rip it if you decide to take it off me.”

He smiled against her as he leaned back in. He kissed her, deepening it immediately as one hand dragged down her leg. He slotted his own thigh between her legs, adding a little friction that had her gasping into his mouth. He started hiking up the skirt of the dress further. Slowly, purposely teasing her with it. Teasing himself just as much.

Then, heavy footsteps started coming down the hall. They separated quickly and ducked inside the kitchen, hoping Sam would walk past. Unfortunately, they were wrong.

Dean stood behind Y/N quickly, concealing a problem he didn’t exactly have time to fix.

“Hey,” Sam said softly, seemingly not noticing a thing. “I didn’t hear yelling coming down and needed a drink. You two all good?”

She nodded. “Great.”

“Awesome,” Dean said at the same time.

Sam nodded, giving a tight smile as he walked past.

“We were actually about to head to bed, so…” she said, looking at him as he stood at the fridge.

“Okay,” he nodded, nonchalant. “Night.”

“Night.”

Dean waved a quick goodbye, following after her quickly. They broke into his room, giggling like a couple of drunk toddlers.

“He didn’t hear yelling,” Dean said, closing in on her once the door was shut.

She reached for his belt, quickly undoing it as they got closer to the bed.

“He didn’t.”

He grabbed her by the waist, tossing her down on the mattress, slowly climbing on top of her.

“Wanna test and see if the walls in here are just as soundproof?”

She looked up at him as he finally tugged her dress up around her hips.

“I love a good experiment.”

She laid back in the early morning hours, not even bringing herself to be annoyed that she was being suffocated by a large man on top of her. Mostly because if Dean killed her that way, it certainly would suck, but what a way to go.

She sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as he rested against her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair until he eventually woke up with the sweetest sleepy smile point at her.

“Hey,” he said, adjusting himself to see her better.

“Hey,” she greeted, accepting a soft kiss. “I think we should’ve done that forever ago.”

“I don’t know. Might be like a wine situation. We let it sit so long that it got even better by the time we actually got some.”

“Very poetic.”

He smiled, a hand coming to rest on her side as he kissed her again. It was slow and lazy and altogether too sweet. She was almost embarrassed that she had to be there to witness how mushy that moment was, if not for the fact that she was on the receiving end of the mush. She pulled away from him first, leaving him to whine.

“You’re so dramatic,” she said in a whisper. “Whining?”

“You were doing plenty of that last night,” he smirked.

“Okay,” she rolled her eyes playfully. “Why don’t we get some breakfast. I’m starving.”

His hand started moving downward, inching up the shirt of his that she was wearing.

“I could eat.”

“Dean,” she warned.

He started scooting down the mattress slowly, not giving up.

“Come on. Kitchen.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“Cut it out,” she laughed. “Kitchen for actual breakfast. I don’t waste time when it comes to breakfast.”

They made it to the kitchen for that breakfast successfully! Twenty minutes later, anyway.

“Hey,” Sam greeted, not looking up.

“Morning, Sammy,” Dean said, going straight towards the cabinets for cereal.

She realized suddenly that there may have been something she forgot in his room.

“Is that Dean’s shirt?” Sam asked.

She looked down, realizing that it was clothes she had forgotten. Sam paused, raising a hand.

“On second thought, I don’t want to know. Glad to know you’re at least not fighting. Just— Maybe some pants next time.”

She laughed, following Dean to the table as he set down two bowls of cereal. They all sat eating in a comfortable silence. Then a slightly less comfortable silence as Dean grabbed her thigh halfway through breakfast. Sam quickly excused himself after that, a knowing smile on his face as he left.

“So… We’re in the kitchen,” Dean said, leaning towards her. “I don’t think Sammy’s comin’ back anytime soon.”

After definitely not doing anything weird in the kitchen and then totally not feeling bad and scrubbing down the entire room for the day, things fell into a new rhythm. It was comfortable and surprisingly less of an adjustment than they were expecting. All of those years of relentless flirting must’ve made for an easy transition.

Dean cleared his throat a few days later, grabbing her attention as she lounged in the room he’d set aside for TV-watching (with the fun new addition of a couch).

“Yeah?” she asked, looking away from the screen to see him.

“Guess what?”

“Hm?”

“2190 days.”

She smiled. “Yeah? Is that today?”

He hummed, giving a nod.

“What were those special plans of yours?”

He raised a brow. “You really wanna know?”

She merely nodded. He paused the show they were watching.

“I, uh— I was gonna tell you how I felt if I didn’t chicken out.”

“You’re kidding,” she replied after a beat.

“I’m not,” he said with a chuckle.

“Man. Almost twenty two hundred days of a blackout before we finally lit it up, huh?”

He laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.”

She paused, turning to put her feet in his lap. He immediately, started rubbing her leg, enjoying the uninhibited ability to touch her.

“Wanna know something funny?”

He raised a brow in question.

“Years ago someone told me they knew we’d end up together.”

“Who? Bobby?”

She shook her head. “Garth.”

He rolled his eyes as she laughed, poking him in the arm a moment later.

“Got to give it to him, he’s always been perceptive,” she noted.

“Guess so,” he nodded, reluctant to admit it. “Freakin’ Garth.��

She watched him a moment, then retracted her legs. He looked at her, almost hurt with those big puppy-dog eyes.

“Oh, poor baby,” she cooed. “Don’t worry, I’m comin’ closer.”

She crawled over to him, settling in his lap. He ran his hands up her legs, a small smile returning to his lips.

“I can think of a few other ways we can celebrate today, you know?”

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning into the cushions.

“Five words: apple pie in the freezer.”

“Oh, baby, you know how to talk dirty to me,” he groaned, pulling her down for a kiss in a fit of laughter.

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

—————

dean winchester taglist:

@deanwithscissors @hyunjaebaby

#dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester spice #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #luna’s dean fics

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rainforest-daisies · 1 year

Text

Day 11|virginity loss

Character: Peter Parker x afab!reader

Tags: smut, virgin!peter, sub!peter, PIV,

A/n: I fully re-entered my marvel era again for like two hours while making this….

Kinktober masterlist

“Uhm- I don't really know what to do now…” his hands grasped your hips against his stiff body, a special something poking at your thigh, alerting you of the issue that had sprung up during your make-out session. His mind raced with thoughts, he had never gotten this far with a girl, let alone one of the prettiest ones he had ever met.

Your legs continued to straddle him, his hands on your hips keeping you in place, as you listened to Peter's mumbled rambles, “What do you want me to do? I-i can leave if you want…I mean it's my apartment, but-” Eventually, he ran out of words, gazing into your eyes in silence. An awkward chuckle left his lips, not knowing how to continue his sentence.

“Peter, are you a virgin?” Your words hit him like a semi-truck, yet, he stuttered out an answer, shocked over your blatancy, “Y-yes- well- um- yeah. I'm a virgin.” his fingers fondled the hem of your sweater, a blush tinting his cheeks as if your words had slapped him in the face. “Can I touch you again?” your words soothed the worry in his mind, the worry that you found him lame, or weird, for being a virgin. “Yes!” he cringed at the eagerness in his voice, repeating himself with a calmer tone, “Yeah, yeah.” he shrugged, smiling at the grin formed on your face.

Your hands met his chest at the same time your lips to his, Peter's slim hands rising under the back of your shirt as he felt the soft flesh that adorned you. His face pulled away from yours, causing confusion to infiltrate your mind, but upon opening your eyes, you saw the small smile hanging from his lips again. “I'm actually about to have sex…” his posture suddenly straightened, “I mean, in like a really cool, not nervous kind of way.” a chuckle left his lips at the sarcasm, relaxing himself in your arms again.

His lips pushed against yours again, catching yourself off guard, and taking it as a moment to savor. He couldn't believe that you chose him to touch you, to please you, his mind was clouded with bewilderment, but with each passing second, the belief grew stronger in his head that this isn't a wet dream. with your exploring hands in control, his sweatpants were quick to be discarded, thrown across his wooden desk chair. His t-shirt followed suit.

Your eyes trailed down his body, admiring the lean muscles in his arms, the small freckles atop his strong abs, and the ever-growing bulge in his boxers, and back up at his face, admiring your expressions. “This is unfair. I'm almost naked and…and you're still fully clothed.” in his mind, it was a pathetic excuse to see more of you, the hormonal sex drive that had been making him go crazy was influencing his mind, but hell did it work.

His jaw seemed to be permanently slack as soon as you took your top off, figuratively, and possibly literally, drooling over the sight of your tits. “Wow. I mean, wow.” his mind was malfunctioning. he could barely form words, all the blood in his body was either rushing to his cheeks, or his bulge.

He had seen this moment in porn, read it in books that were snagged from the library, heard about it from guys talking way too loudly in the cafeteria, but in person, in front of him in real-time, he was short-circuiting. In a dazed state, his mouth pressed kisses against your chest, moving your hips against his, practically grinding you against him.

Your voice brought him back to reality, pulling away from your chest, “Say that again?” his doe eyes looked up at you as if you were a goddess. in his eyes, you were one.

“Are you ready? you're getting awfully needy.” his hand reached the back of your neck, smashing your face against his, passionately kissing you. “Shit- shit. I forgot to grab a condom. let me get up.” your body hesitantly pulls away, watching as he stumbles off his bed and across his room to his desk, rummaging through an old box, with a condom stuffed in the bottom of it. “Health class last month really paid off, huh.” looking down at the foil package, he chuckles, but when he looked back up, he had seen you discarded your pants and underwear as he was looking in the box.

Soon, his body was on top of yours, holding his figure up with one hand, holding your face with the other. “Can…I put it on you? the condom?” your words make him shudder, and nod quickly. As your hand slid against his length, unrolling the condom on him, a loud, uncontrollable moan left his parted lips.

“Wait…I read about a guy doing something once,” his hand from your face lifted to his mouth, spitting into his palm and rubbing it against your core, paying extra attention to your clit, “and apparently it's hot…so…”

Your hand gently grasped his lenth, and helped guide him inside, his face scrunched at the warmth of your cunt, a loud whimper threatening to be released any second. shit, he was close already. He had been inside of you for less than a minute, and he was already close.

It wasn't long before he could feel himself throbbing, trying to hold himself back for as long as possible, yet, when he heard the sweetest noise that had ever graced his ears come out of your mouth, he was already filling up the condom. With pants and breaths coming from his mouth, forehead rested atop yours, he pulled out with a whine of sensitivity, and his body began dragging itself down your body, pressing feather-light pecks across your skin as he did so.

“C’mere, baby. I wanna make you cum too.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #x reader #smut #kinktober

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talesofesther · 2 years

Text

I guess that's love

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Wednesday sees herself stuck in the memory of one night; the night you almost died. She feels it's her fault, your blood on her hands says as much.

A/N: This is loosely based on Can't Pretend by Tom Odell and After Hours by The Weeknd which was suggested by the lovely @abelvrla. Also, I think it's valid to say that this story is mostly me having fun with some of my favorite tropes, so idk if this turned out kinda bad or similar to any of my other works; but I do hope you can enjoy it anyway. <3

Word count: 4,5k of feelings.

Masterlist

It's red. All she sees is red.

It stains the white porcelain of the sink before going down the drain.

Blood never bothered Wednesday, one could say she enjoyed the sight of it.

Now, she's almost rubbing her hands raw. It's a hurried motion, she brushes the soap over her palm with urgency, clawing at her own skin under the running water; yet it's still there.

She feels a little nauseated. Maybe it's because her breathing is all over the place. Sometimes too fast; sometimes not fast enough, clogged up in her throat.

She washes. And washes. And… keeps washing. The skin of her hands becomes reddish. The blood — your blood — eventually, finally fades.

But does it really? Wednesday feels the stain to be permanent.

Looking down at her hands — her vision a little blurry but she doesn't think about that — she catches herself shaking. Her chest is impossibly tight, it hurts to feel the beating of her own heart.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to dread your death?

She's disoriented when she exits the bathroom, not registering immediately where she is. The white walls of the hospital hurt her eyes.

It's been such a long night.

Is it still night?

The tie around Wednesday's neck seems to be choking her. She reaches her hands up to loosen it, but the feeling doesn't go away. She discards the garment altogether.

That's when she notices the blood stains on the cuffs of her white shirt. She curses under her breath. She wants to throw up. Or change out of these ruined clothes, but it feels like a waste of time.

"…nesday? Wednesday!"

She looks up upon hearing the calls of her name, only to see Principal Weems regarding her with evident worry. She's a little paler than usual, the night definitely hasn't been kind to her either.

There are only a few doctors walking around, some of them give Wednesday a strange look as they pass her by. A pungent smell of disinfectant hangs in the air. The sky outside the window bleeds in soft shades of dark purple and orange — the sun is already rising to a new day.

"You need to get checked out too, follow me." Weems reaches out to Wednesday's shoulder, trying to guide her to an empty room.

Wednesday ignores it, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder. "Where is she?"

Weems avoids her eyes then, sighing exasperatedly because she knows arguing will lead her nowhere; "she's being treated, we'll be able to see her soon."

"I want to see her now," Wednesday states, before walking past Larissa without even knowing which door she should go to.

"She's in surgery, miss Addams," Weems insists, finality in her tone. "We'll only make things worse going there now."

It's funny, how you've always told Wednesday she should put herself out there more, not be afraid to feel or let people close. Yet now you only prove her right in her reasoning that emotions only exist to torture people. Not in a good way.

But she did it anyway, didn't she?

She allowed herself to feel things.

Wednesday is frozen to the pristine tiles, her nails almost piercing her skin as she clenches her fists.

"I'm worried too, but all we can do now is wait," Weems softens once she notices the shaking of Wednesday's body. She takes a careful step closer to the girl, "if you don't want to see a doctor come back to the school with me, take a shower, put some clean clothes on. I'll drive you back when we're allowed to see her."

—

The warm water soothed Wednesday's muscles, it washed away the dried blood from her hair and the dirt clinging to her skin. It was relieving.

She's now standing in front of the bathroom mirror and the reflection staring back at her is not one she easily recognizes. Her skin looks paler than usual — if that's even possible — there are dark circles around her eyes and even she has to admit she looks exhausted.

Wednesday reaches a hand to touch her abdomen, nimble fingers tracing the spot that should be ripped open but isn't. Not even a scar remains; no telltales that she had been stabbed just a few hours ago.

She shivers at the thought. Death's cold embrace is a little more taunting when seen up close.

For a fleeting second, Wednesday catches herself planning to go to your room — as she usually did most nights before she pushed you away. She would sit beside you on your bed, her shoulder would brush yours and she'd comment about how you could even sleep in a bed this small, yet she wouldn't pull away. She'd talk with you about how good it felt to drive a knife into the old pilgrim's heart. Maybe she'd even tell you she had been scared. Maybe you'd try to hold her hand and she'd let you, gripping you tighter than she should.

Your comfort was Wednesday's most prized secret. You were her favorite broken rule.

The salty taste of a tear on her lips brings Wednesday back to reality. The reality where she doesn't have a single scar on her body and you're in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive.

She dries her cheeks harshly, turning around to put on her sweater and dark pants.

—

It's 6 PM when Principal Weems brings her back to the hospital and Wednesday is finally allowed into your room.

There's a stillness to it that she hates. You are too still. Several tubes are attached to your body as you lay on the hospital bed, there are bandages around your torso, some of them faintly tainted red. The machine that tracks your heartbeat is beeping in a lazy rhythm.

Wednesday doesn't dare breathe as she walks closer, stopping right beside you so she can cast over each scrape on your skin.

There was too much blood loss, Weems had told her moments ago. Wednesday knew that, she was the one who kept what was left of your blood inside your body until the ridiculously slow help finally arrived.

Weems also told her the bullet was short of doing major damage, and that despite now being weak, you were lucky and should wake up within a few days.

It does absolutely nothing to set Wednesday's heart at ease.

You're too still.

She can barely see your chest moving with the soft breathing. Your features are so serene, so emotionless. She could say you're dead if she didn't know any better.

Wednesday doesn't move for several moments, it's almost as if she's afraid to. She holds herself stiff at your side, glaring at you as if you'd wake up only to hear her scolding.

She hates that this is the first time she's been this close to you, in what? Two or three weeks?

It feels unfair, unfitting. Like it's all wrong.

But she can't complain. It's her fault.

A vain attempt at keeping you safe. Maybe it only made things worse;

—

"You know, as far as dates go, this is pretty creative," you told her, dodging fallen logs and rocks as you walked amongst the woods.

Wednesday turned back to look at you with an unreadable expression, "no one said this was a date."

"What would you call it then?"

"Investigating."

You groaned, falling into step beside Wednesday. Just so you could see the heavenly way the moonlight shaped her features. There was fog in the cold air, trees nothing but dark silhouettes around you; it suited her. "You're no fun."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday felt your hand brushing hers. She hated how it made her focus waver. "Besides, you're the one who agreed to accompany me."

"Of course I did," you explained easily, "you asked me to."

Wednesday gulped, things felt more intimate than they should when the only witnesses around you are trees.

"Why was that?" You dared take hold of her hand then, your cold fingertips closing around her own. She stopped abruptly, and you observed the way her shoulders tensed. "You say you don't need anyone, yet here I am."

Wednesday's breath turned shallow, she didn't feel like looking at you. Because you were right, it was a break in her pattern; her rules.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to break her rules?

You came to stand before her, your other hand taking hold of her free one so you could pull her closer. And she let you. Another step and any left space between you will vanish.

"Why won't you tell me?" You asked for what felt like the millionth time, but you didn't really hope for an answer.

You're familiar with her. She allows you close; you hold her hand, you touch her cheek, you braid her hair. Yet she never tells you why she allows you to do it.

Wednesday kept her eyes focused somewhere on your lips, counting the specks of color there, still as a corpse.

She saw the ghost of a smile that came to your lips before you leaned closer. And alarms were blaring inside her head, her lungs aching because of how she refused to breathe; yet she didn't move away.

You kissed her softly, gently. Your lips mapped hers in a way that felt like it always should've been.

And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.

But as all things do, as Goody warned her time and time again; it didn't last. Shockwaves cursed through Wednesday's body and she was taken to another reality.

A reality where you were screaming her name in one second, and the next you were laying on the dirty ground, a pool of blood forming under you.

Wednesday jumped away from you the second she came back to herself, her eyes wide and breathing frantically as she strived to not pass out from what she'd just witnessed in her mind.

You were speaking, trying to reach out for her again as you asked what was wrong.

Wednesday felt her eyes sting, all she could see was your blood on her hands.

—

Her vision from that night came back in the form of nightmares for many nights after. Getting Wednesday to start dreading sleep.

She remembers warning you to never come near her again just before she sprinted away, leaving you alone in the woods with no further explanation. She avoided you, accepting the fact you might hate her, but it was okay because you'd be doing it alive.

All in vain, because her vision became a reality anyway.

"How could you be so stupid?" Wednesday tells you, but only the hospital walls hear it. "Jumping in front of me like that, it was ridiculous. Don't you see it? That's why you should've stayed away."

It's useless, you won't wake up to hear her complaints.

Wednesday exhales sharply and turns away from you, "it shouldn't have happened, I tried to-" There's a lump in her throat, it tangles her words, "but you're so stubborn… If you die before me, I'll kill you, I will-"

I don't know what I'll do. Wednesday thinks to herself. She sits on the chair that's beside your bed, watching through the window as the sun hides behind Jericho's mountains.

"You're missing your stupid sunset," Wednesday finds herself whispering. A last attempt at getting you to open your eyes, because for some reason, you liked to see the ending of sunny days.

Nothing happens. You remain still. The beeping tracking your heart rate is still slow. The room remains too quiet.

Wednesday leans back on her chair, she stays motionless for several minutes; until her hand eventually finds you.

Wednesday wraps her fingers around the pulse point on your wrist, not trusting the machine to tell her you're not dead yet.

She holds tightly onto you. There's no one around to witness it.

—

You didn't wake up for four days. And every day, without failure, Wednesday came to see you. She'd sit beside your bed and wait, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking as if you'd talk back to her.

It was her own way of keeping herself calm, busy.

Though the sleepless nights were starting to take a toll on her; sour mood and thinner patience being her new normal, along with the dark circles around her eyes.

Every time she closes her eyes, she's back there — warm blood on her hands and your life slipping from her grasp — so she refuses to do it.

Enid has seen her roommate nap hunched over her desk too many times to not get worried, but with being shut out every time she asked what she could do to help, she eventually stopped.

Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.

She doesn't.

—

The day you woke up, Wednesday was nowhere to be seen.

All of your friends came to see you, overwhelming you with love and tales about how each of them missed a part of you in their lives.

You felt sore all over, as if you'd been hit by a truck — getting shot then staying unconscious in bed for days will do that to someone, you figured.

Enid was the one who stayed to accompany you back to school when you were discharged from the hospital, along with Principal Weems, of course.

"It feels like I'm learning to walk all over again," you groaned, one hand coming up to clutch at your abdomen as you got to your feet.

"Take it slow, we've got time," Enid kindly held a hand out for you, which you promptly took.

There are a million questions swimming in your mind, losing these many days from your life feels strange. You halted but the world didn't.

You asked the one that you first thought of when you woke up; "Enid," you stop walking so you can look into her eyes, "how is Wednesday? Did she got hurt?"

A complicated array of emotions pass through Enid's features, too fast for you to put your finger on any of them. She looks at you with something akin to sympathy; "she's… fine." Enid chews on her bottom lip, pondering whether she should tell you or not. Naturally, she can't hold back, "she hasn't left your bedside once."

You must have looked rather surprised, because Enid keeps going; "it's true, there wasn't a day that she didn't come to see you."

You don't know how you should feel. You think it's unhealthy for your heart to be beating as fast as it is right now after what you've just been through, but you can't get it to slow down, not when such a bomb is dropped on you.

Almost a month ago, Wednesday told you to never come near her again. Today, Enid tells you she's been by your side this whole time.

"Why?" You ask.

Enid doesn't know the answer.

—

It feels like a fever dream. Your bullet wound, the hospital visits, the remains of the fight. Everything. It feels like it didn't happen.

Because when you got back to Nevermore, everything was back to how it was. The damage to the school was repaired, classes were steadily going back to being routine, and Wednesday hasn't looked in your mere direction once — she, being the epitome of healthy coping mechanisms and dealing with feelings, avoids you like the plague.

You asked Enid to tell Wednesday that your door was open if she ever wished to talk.

Several days have gone by already and she hasn't taken you up on your offer.

You walk out of the cafeteria with a heavy heart and twirling an apple in your hand. You miss her. You hate how your days still feel hollow without Wednesday's presence on them, it's weird because she's not the type of person who usually makes her presence known; but you miss the weight of her shoulder resting against yours, the familiar comfortable silence you'd share when only enjoying each other's existence while reading.

It's a grey day outside. You see her before you see anything else when you walk into the quad. She has her back to you, black braids haphazardly done falling over her shoulders as she sits with Enid on one of the tables.

The werewolf notices you and waves you over, an encouraging smile on her lips. You give her a look that shows your uncertainty, but she insists.

You take a deep breath and follow the stone path that leads to her table. There's a limp on your steps still, telltales of the fight; sometimes you feel the eyes of your peers lingering on you. You wonder what they're thinking about, what they see when they look at you. A brave hero or a stupid kid?

What do they see when they look at her? A lonely, unfortunate soul or the savior of the school?

You sit down beside Enid, consequently in front of Wednesday, your hands resting in your lap as your knee goes up and down anxiously.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Enid greets you happily, as if there isn't a tension thick enough to cut through in the air.

The question almost goes over your head. You're focusing on the Addams girl in front of you, on the way her knuckles suddenly go white as she grips the lunch tray like her life depends on it.

"I'm alright," you answer, eyes fixed on Wednesday — she holds you in a trance.

"I've been meaning to ask if you have the notes from our last class?" Enid continues, in a kind effort to make things less complicated.

"I uh-" you start, but cut yourself off when Wednesday hastily gets up from her seat, not sparing you a glance as she turns around and walks away.

You watch her retreating figure, the ends of her skirt bouncing with her steps. With a groan, you begrudgingly take a bite from your apple, "there's no figuring her out, I'm done," you mumble over your mouthful.

Though you're not sure if you truly mean it.

"Don't say that," Enid pouts, keeping her eyes on Wednesday until she disappears through the doors that lead inside the school.

"She made it explicitly clear she wants nothing to do with me, Enid," you shrug, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips, "I think it's my fault anyway, so… I won't bother her anymore."

Enid turns, straddling the bench she's sitting on so she can fully face you; "what do you mean?"

You breathe in deeply, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach just thinking about it. "A few weeks before all that shit happened, we shared a- a moment."

Enid instantly smiles, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "you kissed?"

You chuckle timidly, smiling along with the memory, "yeah," but your gaze dropped to your hands right after. "I think it was a mistake."

"I doubt it," Enid tells you confidently then, as if she's in on a secret you're not.

You raise an eyebrow at her.

Enid glances between you and the door that Wednesday had disappeared into, tasting the words on her tongue before she spills them over for you. She breathes in, and relents; "after you passed out…" she gulps, dreadful memory still fresh, "right after you got shot, from the blood loss. Wednesday, she- I never saw her so desperate."

Only from the emotions swimming in Enid's eyes, you could tell she was being honest. You couldn't help the tightness in your chest upon imagining Wednesday going through that.

"It was almost as if she knew you wouldn't make it, that you wouldn't survive," Enid keeps going, "or at least that's what she believed in."

Clarity shoots through you like a bullet as your eyes widened with the words. Ironic much, but that was the feeling.

Because there was a possibility, that Wednesday saw your misfortune before it even happened. Right when you kissed her, no less.

And if that was the case, you couldn't imagine the torment she's been under ever since.

—

The night is calm, you can see clouds shaping the moon as you walk the path outside that leads to Ophelia Hall. It's a little late, just past curfew but you prefer it that way — fewer people around, the hallways will be empty.

It's a struggle for you to walk up the stairs, you have to stop once to catch your breath and allow the nagging pain that shoots up your leg to subside. Details. Tonight feels important, because you're going to see her; you'll make sure of it, even if she insists otherwise.

You stop in front of the dark wooden door. If you strain your ears, you can hear the faint noise of her typewriter. Enid isn't there, you know she's at Yoko's room tonight — her idea, not yours. Privacy is important, she told you, right after all but commanding you to do what you're doing.

With a deep breath in and feeling more nervous than you thought you would, you raise your fist, and knock.

The typing noise stops, you hear her chair scratching the floor. You couldn't breathe even if you tried.

The door pulls open and your heart melts a little at the sight; Wednesday stands in front of you with a hoodie and sweatpants on, and her hair free of braids, clearly not expecting anyone to show up at this hour.

You're snapped out of your trance when you register the door closing again. You quickly hold it open with your hand; "hear me out, please."

"No," Wednesday huffs, "I told you to stay away."

"Yeah, and not much else," you push through, squeezing your way inside her room and closing the door behind you. Wednesday takes a big step back as if you'd burn her. It hurts. "Could've given me a reason."

With a deep breath in, Wednesday sets her jaw tight, "I don't owe you anything."

You avoid her eyes then, "maybe not, but I thought we had-"

"We didn't," Wednesday tells you, the shake of her voice makes you look up, and you think you see her eyes glistening, "we don't."

You nod slowly, and despite the bleeding of your heart, you speak softly; "did you see it?" You chew on the inside of your cheek, fumbling with your hands so they don't tremble, "that night, you had a vision didn't you? About what happened to me?"

There's a sudden stillness to the room that feels awfully familiar to Wednesday. She hates the way she can't seem to control her breathing pattern, she hates that the image of you in front of her is becoming blurry.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? Because I got hurt?"

Your words urge Wednesday's mind to travel back to that night. She closes her eyes tightly, causing a tear to roll down her cheek and part of her wants to kick you out of the room for making that happen.

"You're a liability," she tells you the first thing her mind conjures up.

You chuckle humourlessly, "ouch, considering I saved your life that's-"

"Exactly the problem." Wednesday interrupts urgently, "are you stupid? If you insist on staying close to me you'll only hurt yourself." Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence, as if it caused her physical pain to speak.

You've never heard her this vulnerable, this scared. Your heart bleeds but for a different reason; for the affection you hold for her, for not being able to protect her from what happened. You take a step further towards her and breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn't take one away from you. "And what if staying away hurts me just as much? What then?"

It's quiet. Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. All you see are her cheeks slowly being stained with tear tracks as they roll all the way down to her chin and drip to the floor, her eyebrows scrunching in hurt. But she's so quiet.

You take one more step. "Tell me why."

A beat of silence, and then; "you made me… care about you and then you go and almost die." Wednesday chokes out angrily.

You smile sadly, finally hearing the words you've been chasing; though you'd prefer them in better circumstances, "caring about people can be… scary."

You don't think she registered that you were so close. Wednesday flinches when your hand touches hers, it's a ghost of a touch, barely there, yet it feels almost like an embrace.

"But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere," you say quietly, tears pooling at the bottom lid of your eyes as you carefully hold her hand properly.

Wednesday is frozen in place, it feels like someone reached past her ribs and is squeezing the organ that pumps her blood. She hates that she must look like a mess, yet this is the first time in weeks that she feels she can actually breathe. Part of her has been stuck on that night — hands stained with your blood as the paramedics take you away from her — until now.

Her fingers tentatively close around yours, her lips part and she struggles a little to get the words out, "it's not a promise you can keep."

"I can try," you whisper. You see it clearly in her eyes; the guilt she's been carrying. "What happened that night, it wasn't your fault, you have to know that, Wednesday."

"It was because of me," she reasons just as quietly, "and almost took you from me."

Goosebumps raise on your skin at her words. Your thumb gently traces her hand. It's private, it's delicate, it's a moment that belongs to you two only. "It'll take more than a bullet for you to get rid of me," you tease with a tearful grin.

Slowly, you bring her hand up so it rests over your chest; her palm flush with your skin as your heart beats rhythmically right underneath it. "I'm right here," you breathe.

It's all it takes for her to, finally, surrender. Wednesday stumbles forward, and you're there to catch her. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands clutch at the fabric of your shirt to the point of ripping. You encircle your own arms around her waist, pressing her tightly to you.

Wednesday is still mostly quiet, the only thing you can hear if you focus hard enough is the occasional hitch of her breath. But you feel the way her tears soak your shirt, the way her body trembles as she gives her all to contain her sobs.

"There was… so much blood," is all she tells you, words muffled against your skin.

"I know," you slide one of your hands up to her head, entangling your fingers through her hair, "I'm so sorry it had to be you." You plant several kisses on her temple and on her hair, each one is a different promise.

I'm here.

I won't leave.

My blood will never be in your hands again.

You think she understands, because you feel her own lips brushing the skin of your shoulder; cold, damp with tears. Tender.

I love you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

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writingmysanity · 11 months

Text

Commit to the Bit (1)

Pairing: Sanji x Baker!Reader

Word Count:

TW: ummmm nothing really, perhaps slightly creepy man.

A/N: Not beta'd... well, not fully. dying on this hill lol thank you @stray-kaz and @sordidmusings for listening to me ramble about this and helping me find some direction with it, considering I sat down to write with "baker" and a vibe. You're amazing.

Early mornings were always your favorite.

The gentle risings paired with the lingering silence in the streets as you wander towards the building resting in center square. Though silent, you're not alone. Wandering shadows linger in groups as the various vendors trickle into the square to begin their daily set up just as the sun begins to kiss the horizon.

Your family has long since owned many of the buildings in the square. Before the last revolution on the island, your grandparents ruled it with an iron fist. You have since taken over the duties, your grandparents being some of the few taken in the onslaught, your father left with permanent injuries that keep him from working any longer.

You often feel as if these things should trouble you, the knowledge of what happened. The passing shadows flickering in your peripheral should bring you some sort of unease, even as one darts towards you as you turn the key to your shop. Instead, you turn towards the small body, quickly accompanied by that of his mother, a smile hiding the exhaustion on your face as they call your name.

“Yes?” stopping abruptly before you, Peter moves to shove a small sack into your hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He is excited, firm in the knowledge that he is often treated to a fresh pastry from your ovens if he behaves. His mother pauses behind him, hand resting on his shoulder as she attempts to hide her unease.

“Our rent,” she states softly. You nod, but she continues. “I understand it is two days late…” she sounds winded, panicked. “I will earn the rest today, I swear.” Slowly, your smile slides from your face as you shove the door open, motioning to the young boy to hurry in.

“You know where you may go,” you state softly. He takes off like a bullet into the darkness, easily able to navigate the layout by now. You wait until he is out of earshot before you turn back to the woman before you, softening.

“You owe me no more,” you assure her. She moves to dispute it, but you raise a hand, the glistening light of the dawn making the whole world around you dusty, hazy. “No late fees, no worries.” you assure her. It has only been a year, and still the fear seems to have settled firmly in the hearts of those around you. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forces a kind smile on her son as he comes barreling back out of the shop, arms full of loaves of bread.

“Peter,” she warns, gently. “That is too much. You are allowed a snack.” Again, you wave her off.

“They were going to be fed to the birds anyhow.” you assure her. “Day-old bread doesn't sell as well.” she pauses before nodding.

“Thank you”

Watching as they wander away, you can't help but sigh. Golden rays filter over the open sea, casting the island in brilliant hues of pinks and purples as it chases away the last of the shadows. Steadily, more bodies clamber into the square, limbs clumsy with sleep. The ever lingering scent of salt mixing with the warmth of fresh bread coming from inside the shop.

Taking a deep breath, you swing around, heading into the building with a smile.

“Angie!” you call with laughter in your tone as the short red head appears before you. She smiles brightly at you, her normal lopsided smile fading with sleep, her face and hands covered in various spots of flour.

“You’re late,” she accuses, scrunching her nose to chide at you playfully. Shrugging slightly, you smile apologetically, nodding at the door.

“Sorry,” you start with a hum, lifting the bag that Peter had shoved into your hands. “I got stopped.” she just nods with a laugh.

“I saw,” she hums. “Little thing scared me, I thought another dog got in.”

“Nope, just Peter.” you muse as you go to put the berry away. “Though, I can't say there is much difference.” you both laugh when you catch a glimpse of the cabinet you keep stocked with your day-old goods.

He didn't clear it out, you notice, softening. Angie follows your eyes, smiling softly.

“I still don't know why you dont sell those.” she hums. “They won't earn as much, but more than giving them away for free.” you shrug, settling on the floor, looking at the remnants as you try to plan what lunches you can make with what is left.

“We make enough, Ang,” you say softly. “And there are people who go hungry. The island is still healing.”

She doesn't push. She knows of your guilt, even if there is nothing for you personally to feel guilty of. Your family has done a lot of damage, and she can't find fault in you wanting to fix as much of it as you can.

“They are doing well,” she assures you, hand resting on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Now if you don't mind,” she grins, winking down at you. “My shift is over. I would love to get some sleep.” laughing softly at her, you nod.

“You've helped me so much, I appreciate you.” you say softly, standing to see her off. She just nods, wiping her hands to rid herself of as much of the white gloop as possible, heading towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” she calls. “Love you, too. There is a new batch in the oven, don't forget them. I'll beat you if you ruin my work!” she states as the door slides shut behind her. Huffing a laugh, you start loading the fresh pastries and breads into the displays’ as the sun lifts higher in the sky. It won't be long until the market is filled with locals and guests alike. Pirates and marines looking to stock their ships and merchants trying to sell their wares to the locals.

By the time you finish stocking the first of the pastries, the door dings as it swings open. The distant hum of life swarming the market makes you smile as you rise to greet your first customer. Jeff, your biggest regular, and an unfortunate thorn in your side, strolls in with a large grin. You can't help the slight twinge to your smile, threatening to twist into a scowl.

“Jeff!” you call as evenly as you're able. “You’re early.”

His laughter echoes strangely in the small area as he settles into “his” spot next to the window, shifting to rest his heels on the opposite chair as he leans back. Far too used to getting his will, either by throwing money at it or with sweetened words dripping with honey, you have found the man incapable of accepting your favorite two lettered word. His ways may get him places with those of the odd house wife who married much too young in fear of being alone, but you can't help but feel sick when he turns his charms on you. Still, you could do worse, as far as your father is concerned. He is hoping to settle you into a life of luxury, free of having to work yourself to the bone.

You'd rather work yourself to death than allow him to rest a ring on your hand, though.

A prize, you realized long ago, is all he views you as. You own land, and by marriage, it would become his own.

“I couldn't wait to see you again,” he coos, his whole body seeming to lean into his wink as your false smile tugs down at the corners. “I've been gone, haven't you missed me?” he calls loudly. As if you couldn't hear a whisper or the drop of a pin. His boisterous voice makes you cringe. Sighing, you prepare him his regular – a strawberry tartlet and a cup of coffee.

“I miss the peace.” you grouch to yourself, back turned to him. Even turned away, you can feel his eyes on you, raking down your form.

You don't have to check to know that the exact amount is already waiting for you on the table top, resting in neat piles. Setting his order before him, you go to pull away to grab the money when his fingers slide over your palm to grab your wrist. Clenching your teeth, you bite back your knee jerk reaction to slap him.

“When are you going to let me put a ring on that pretty finger, hm?” he asks, leaning forward, his hooded eyes in resemblance of what he believes to be a sultry look. Just as you're about to open your mouth to respond with your sentiments – over your dead body – the door dings again. Immediately, you take the opportunity to pull your hand from his grasp, turning to send the newest patron a relieved smile.

“Hello,” you call, almost a little too cheerful. “Welcome in.”

You watch in amusement as three bodies all try to enter at the same time, shoulders getting stuck in the frame. There is a bicker and a whine before one of them pulls back to allow the other two to stumble in unceremoniously.

“What was that for, stupid cook?” The taller, green-haired man snaps at the blond who had stepped back, his hand wrapped into the back of the third man's shirt, keeping him from trying to lunge forward at the array of goodies before him.

“We couldn't all fit through the door, Mosshead.” The blond states as if it should be obvious. It should be, you felt, but their bickering brings a smile to your face as you place yourself behind the counter again. And far away from Jeff.

They look ready to continue to bicker, so you call out to them again, hoping to catch their attention. “How can I help you today?” they all pause, looking towards you and your expectant look. You smile as the woman that had been forced behind their shenanigans pushes her way through, coming to stand before you.

“Your pastries are fresh?” you nod, motioning to them.

“Made not even an hour ago,” you promise. Three of the other four come to join her at the counter, looking over the variety of pastries, breads and other baked goods you have come to offer. The green haired man stares intently, only moving when the smaller brunette beside him nudges him to the side.

It doesn't take much to recognize them, their faces lie plastered on every bulletin on every island across the seas at this point. Luffy and his signature hat being the biggest tip off, shortly followed by the famed demon hunter shifting his swords at his side to keep from hitting the display. You appreciate the gesture.

You've never been in the habit of turning pirates in, not unless necessary. They bring more revenue in than the entirety of the marine fleets that seemed to stay docked in port.

“See anything you'd like?” you offer after what seemed like several minutes of silence. Out of habit, your eyes trail up to keep tabs on the other body lingering back. You may not make a habit of turning them in, but you know the lot. Oftentimes they are entirely too focused on their own gain and what they can get away with when they think you aren't paying attention.

You almost expect his eyes to be lingering along your wares or the walls, seeing what they think they can steal without being caught. What you certainly didn't expect was for his eyes to be plastered to your face, a bashful, boyish look to him as he seems to try and shrink back and away from your gaze. Blinking, you feel the warmth of your flush touch your ears as your attention is brought back to Luffy as he nearly salivates over the counter, his eyes locked on the pastries.

“Can I get one of everything?” he asks excitedly. Your eyes flick back to the blond man still hovering back from the others as you nod, moving to start pulling everything out.

“Of course,” you say kindly, quietly cheering your ability to keep your voice even. “What about the rest of you?” Their voices ring out as they quickly order before their captain is able to try and swipe the remaining food. Once their orders are pulled, wrapped and packaged, you stand straight, cringing at the twinge that pinches your lower back in retaliation for staying bent over for too long.

“Anything for your friend?” you ask quietly, nodding to Sanji. Breaking from whatever spell he seemed to be under, he strides forward. Nami stares at him oddly when his voice comes out entirely too soft.

“Is there anything you recommend?” He asks slowly, eyes flickering back from you to the food before him. “Anything, of course, that my dear captain has not yet swiped.” He amends, earning a laugh from you, emboldening him. "As long as it is as sweet as you" His words start out strong, but taper off shyly when his eyes catch yours. You can almost see how he is kicking himself, the confused pinch in his brow and how he sends Nami a glare when he catches her curious look.

“My special, coming right up.” you hum, trying to dismiss the flickering gazes of the two in silent conversation. His eyes linger longer, trailing along your skin. You hand each of them their orders, huffing in amusement when Zoro takes Luffy’s order without a word. Last in line is Sanji, his hesitation evident as he reaches out to take the neatly wrapped package from you.

“Thank you,” he smiles, the warmth of it making you squirm slightly. It’s entirely too genuine for a pirate, you decide. Instead of shying away from it, you smile back, unable to help the warmth pooling on your cheeks.

“You'll come tell me what you think of it?” you request, shuffling on your feet, mentally kicking yourself. Evidently, all it takes is a shy look and a pretty smile and you're suddenly unable to keep your composure. He pauses at the door, sending you another smile.

“Nothing would bring me more joy.”

It's not until you look around, reveling in the silence that their departure left, that you realize that the shop is empty. Jeff is nowhere to be seen, his coffee half gone and his tartlet untouched. Huffing, you shift around the counter to clean up his mess, deciding to give the tart to Peter when he comes to visit at lunch time.

========

The rest of your day, and even the better part of the next is quiet. Patrons coming in and out, the gentle push and pull of business as per usual, marines and pirates alike. Being nothing more than a simple seller of wares, many merchants and marines ignore your presence and often talk freely.

It seems pirates are the only ones who can recognize a person with any semblance of power – though they seem to understand your unspoken rules. The biggest being, don't cause a ruckus and there won't be any trouble.

Instead, they sit simply and enjoy their food with relatively boring conversation in comparison to their marine counterparts who openly speak about the bounties they are looking for. Perhaps they are hoping some young maiden will sweep up with large eyes and tell them where their bounty is hiding, begging them to capture them to keep her safe. Perhaps they are just loud. Either way, you didn't like their newest conversation.

The strawhat crew.

As with every time you hear whispers, you send your favorite errand boy to collect the wanted posters. Peter is more than happy to help, racing around the island to tear down the posters while sneaking past the marines.

They may be famous, and they may be memorable, but you refuse to help them be reminded of who they are looking for.

Panting, Peter returns, thrusting the posters into your hands with a grin. You grin down at him, offering him his favorite tartlet, watching his eyes widen in excitement, though it seems much more mild than usual. His mother will appreciate his energy being spent tonight when she locks up.

“Your payment,” you coo, ruffling his hair gently, earning a happy sigh. You pretend not to notice the stares of several of your patrons eyeing the pile of posters in your hands. In silence, one person from each table is waved out the doors, as slowly and inconspicuously as possible, to check the bulletin boards.

Rule number two – if your poster disappears, so should you.

It isn't two hours later that the distant echo of shouts reaches your door. Frowning, you lean out to see what's going on. Did another pirate try his luck against the marines?

Steadily, the shouts get louder, joined in by the various vendors cursing at the lanky body weaving through their stalls in effort to keep ahead of the slew of marines hot on his trail. Another leap and dodge through the vendor two stalls down and you finally get a good look at the pirate in question – Sanji.

Successfully slowing the marines, he skips half a step to gulp down some air before he is yoinked into your shop by his collar.

Immediately, he is on the defensive, yanking back from you. You let him, glowering up at him. Seeing that it's you, he relaxes some, eyes flickering back towards the door.

“As much as i'd love to give your pastry the glowing review it deserves,” he pants. “I'm a tad busy at the moment.” rolling your eyes, you grab the arm of his jacket, tugging him to the kitchen.

“Make yourself look busy,” you hiss. “Quickly.” he freezes, but only for a moment, as he all but throws his jacket off, quickly tying the apron you shove his way. As he finishes, the door dings. Freezing, you both stare at one another for a moment before you force a smile to your face, reaching up to mess up his perfect hair, motioning to the flour, hoping he'd get the idea before you swing out of the kitchen to greet your guests.

“Hello,” you sing. “Welcome in.”

Standing before you is the same slew of Marines, huffing and puffing. Their hair and uniforms are obviously askew, tugged and pulled from placement in their chase. You can't help but muse at the fact that while they looked a mess, you had to forcibly change the pirate's looks to make him look as haggard as these men look just from chasing him.

“How can I help you?”

“Have you seen this man?” The man in front shoves the poster in your face, his tone less inquisitive, more accusatory. Narrowing your eyes at him, you yank the poster from his grip, pretending to get a good look at it. Truly, you can say you haven't seen this man. The artistry of the image before you is laughable at best. They made his face wider, pudgy and his hair stringy and closer to that of the straw your neighbor feeds his hogs. The nose was completely off, much too narrow and flat.

It seems the only thing about the poster that can even be considered “correct” is the name.

“No, sir.” you state honestly, shrugging before making a show of trying to hand him the poster back. He doesn't take it, so you just set it down before you on the counter. He eyes you suspiciously motioning to two other marines to his right.

“Then you wouldn't oppose us searching the premises?” he asks, a sickly sweet smile twisting his features. “To ensure that he hasn't… snuck in here without your knowledge.” Without waiting for your okay, the two marines immediately make for the kitchen. Huffing, you glare at the man who fancies himself in power.

Before you're able to say anything, or even really move, Sanji comes through the kitchen door pretending to be none the wiser. The apron is properly dirtied, as if he has been trying, and failing, to bake all day. His long bangs are tied back, the tufts on the top of his head reminding you of a pineapple. His face is covered in flour, nose scrunched up as he walks in head down seeming to mutter to himself.

“Why can't I get this – excuse me… oh, I'm sorry” he pauses, reeling at the scene before him, eyes going comically wide as he hugs the bowl and whisk in his hands to his chest. “Am I interrupting?” he asks slowly, frowning. You shake your head slightly, offering him a weak smile.

“No, it seems that the world government has just made it their goal to harass us today, is all.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as the marines all seem to zero in on him.

“I thought you said you haven't seen the man, miss” The leader snarls. Curiously, Sanji looks down at the wanted poster, his whole face scrunching up.

“You couldn't possibly mistake… that… for me.” The distaste, the pure unfiltered dejection rolls off of him before offense kicks in. The marines are not amused, but you are, your laughter bubbling up. The sound brings a slight smile to his lips, forcing a pout.

“This is my newest apprentice,” You start, motioning to Sanji with a smile.

“That is obviously a pirate.” he states again, your glare falling to him as he forces out the pleasantries that are expected of him. “Ma'am..”

“He is no such thing,” you roll your eyes, looking rather unimpressed. They turn back to Sanji who is just watching them all with a raised brow.

“What is your name, son?” you’re expecting something common, something easy to fake, but perhaps a strong background. You weren't expecting –

“Rudy,” he states with the utmost clarity, not even pausing for a moment to consider the possibilities. The men before you seemed equally as thrown back, perhaps expecting him to waffle for a moment longer in an attempt to catch him in his lie.

“Rudy?” the marine repeats back to him, slowly, eyebrows furrowing. Sanji just nods, giving a noncommittal one armed shrug, making sure to not allow the bowl to tip over.

“It's a family name.”

Before they can try to wiggle themselves any further, you place your hands on the counter, smiling widely at them. “Now, gentlemen, if you have no further business here, you are invited to go harass those who deserve it.” Several of them go to open their mouths to speak up, but close them when your gaze falls to them, daring them to do so.

After several moments of awkward silence, the Marines quietly file out of the door, each offering a mild apology as they duck through it. Waiting until the last of them have left, you march to the door and lock it – nevermind it is still mid-afternoon. With a degree of finality, you flip the open sign before turning back to the tall blond standing behind the display as he finally sets the bowl down onto the counter top.

“Uh,” he starts, clearing his throat. “Thank you.” He can't seem to meet your gaze. If he had, he would see the amusement dancing in your eyes.

“No problem… Rudy.” you jest. He groans pushing the awful wanted poster away from him, watching it as it flutters and flips to the floor.

“It was the first name that popped in my head,” he defends. “Short notice.” His cheeks flush when you giggle, starting towards him with renewed confidence. Stopping just short of him, you press yourself up onto your tiptoes to run your fingertips over the tufts of hair jutting out from his head.

“Cute.”

=========

Night falls surprisingly quickly once you open your doors back up to continue accepting orders. Sanji stays in the kitchen, keeping up the facade of being your newest apprentice as the Marines continue to hover around, lying in wait for him to try and make a break for it.

He doesn't.

Eventually, they retire for the night. This allows for the darkness that's settled over the town to act as a cover, swallowing the hurried shadows as they file into your little bakery through the back door. Angie is less than enthused to be sharing the space while she continues to busy herself with her job.

“You’re kidding,” Nami tries to sound scandalized but her amusement shines through, earning a glare from the cook before her. Sanji is still wearing the apron you had given him, caked in flour and frosting, though his hair was no longer tied back. Despite his attempts to clean up, he still looked a mess. Usopp and Luffy stare at you and Sanji as you rest against the wall beside the door.

“We still need a few more days for repairs, Sanji.” the orange haired girl sighs heavily, flopping into the chair she had dragged in from the dining area. “And you go and catch the attention of Marines. Great. Fantastic.” This earns a defensive look from the tall blond beside you. “I expect this from Luffy or Zoro.” She continues, her hands jut out at the men in question sitting before her.

Luffy does well to look sheepish at the accusation – probably because it's a true statement. The boy can't seem to stay under the radar to save his life. Zoro on the other hand looks so exceptionally bored with the conversation that he could actually be nodding off.

Scratch that.

He is nodding off.

“Well,” you start slowly. “I may be able to buy you that time.” You offer, earning a clear resounding chorus of confused sounds and wary looks from the rest of the crew, minus Zoro, and a nervous look from the cook. Angie pauses in her kneading, watching you in curiosity. It isn't often you break your own rules. Rule five, don't fraternize with pirates. Get the job done and walk away.

Shooting Sanji an apologetic look, you push on, ignoring the amusement in your friends eyes.

“The marines are stupid, but they are consistent in it.” Nami snorts, nodding. “Well, this afternoon was a close one. We were able to convince them that Sanji was not the man they were looking for. We can keep up the story, keep to the bit, and it should allow you to finish your repairs and restock…”

“What do you need?” Luffy asks, leaning forward curiously. You shrug, jutting your finger at the man beside you.

“Just your cook,” you state calmly.

“What’s in it for you?” Usopp asks with a frown.

“I just hate the smug bastards.” You grouch quietly, earning a snort from Angie where she is busying herself at the overs, muttering to herself. That’s an understatement. You try not to glare at the back of her head.

“Dare I ask, what is the con?” Nami asks, bringing your attention back to her as she stands up, moving to settle before the disheveled cook. He frowns, crossing his arms to mimic her own with a scrunch of his nose.

“Guys,” you hum, tugging on Sanji’s sleeve, catching him a bit off balance in his stare down with the navigator. “Meet my new apprentice.”

“So,” a huff comes from the back of the room. “The cooks’ been demoted?” Zoro’s voice rings out in the silence that surrounds the crew, clear amusement lacing every word. Immediately, Sanji moves to jump after the swordsman, growling.

“Shut it, Mosshead.”

Angie snickers to herself, sliding past the ragtag group to continue her duties. Pausing before Sanji, she offers him a pat on the arm, her hands dusted with flour only adding to the several layers already thickening his once nice shirt, mirth dancing in her eyes.

“Welcome to the team, Newbie.”

=========

no pressure tag list: @stray-kaz @sordidmusings @gingernut1314 @fanaticsnail @rainbowpitofdoom

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #sanji vinsmoke #opla!sanji x reader #opla #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji one piece

327 notes · View notes

engie-ivy · 4 months

Text

I wrote a follow-up to my previous microfic to turn the break-up fic into a Break-Up, and Make-Up?, fic!

1576 words

Remus and Sirius went from being close friends, to dating, to being friends again. Difficult as that may be, outwardly, they seem to be doing great...

Regrets & Mistakes

“Because she's my best friend!”

“That's all the more reason to tell her!” Lily argues, as she stands in front of the couch Marlene is curled up on. “You know what a good fit you are, you know how well you get on, you know Dorcas is not the kind of person to ever mock you for it, even if she doesn't feel the same,” Lily starts listing off as she paces up and down. “And if she does feel the same, you'll have this great foundation of friendship to build a relationship upon, and you'll have-”

“So much to lose!” Marlene interjects. “Lily,” she sighs, letting herself fall on her back on the couch. “Dorcas is my best friend, one of the most important people in my life. If she doesn't feel the same… Hell, even if she does feel the same, but we somehow muck it up, there's no coming back from that. We'll be forever changed, never the way we were.” Marlene shakes her head. “I don't think I'm willing to risk that.”

“Marls, do you know how many assumptions you are making?” Lily asks. “That it's bound to go up in smoke, for starters. But even if that happens, that doesn't have to permanently damage your friendship.”

Marlene gives her a skeptical look. “How on earth could that not affect a friendship?”

“Remus!” Lily suddenly exclaims, and Remus gives a start, almost dropping the piece of chocolate he was about to eat from the pile they had brought to cheer up Marlene (and if she's not eating it, someone's gotta).

“What?” he asks.

“You and Sirius were best friends,” Lily states. “Then you got together, dated for a while, broke up, and now you're still close friends.”

Remus nods.

“So it's possible!” Lily exclaims. “It's possible to go through a breakup and still be best friends after! Tell Marlene it's possible! Tell her that even the worst-case-scenario doesn't have to be so bad!”

Remus turns to Marlene. “It's not so bad,” he says dutifully.

Lily smiles triumphantly, but Remus continues. “At least, if you don't mind being constantly reminded of the worst mistake you ever made and seeing every single day how you let the best thing that ever happened to you get away, that is.”

"Okay," Lily says slowly. “Let's unpack that-” she gestures towards Remus as a whole “-later. We're now focusing on Marlene's issues.”

“Nope,” Marlene says, picking up a pillow and hiding her face underneath. “Absolutely not. I'm never ever telling her about my feelings now.”

“Here you are.”

Remus slides into the seat across from Sirius, who's drinking his coffee in a coffeeshop different from where they normally go.

“Oh,” Sirius looks startled. “Ehm, I was actually just going to…”

“Avoid me,” Remus states, crossing his arms over his chest.

An angry look passes over Sirius’ face. “Well, I thought you might want some time apart from me.”

“Want time apart from you?” Remus repeats, non-understanding . He's never wanted time apart from Sirius. Even when Sirius had been so intense that Remus had doubted he would ever be able to give Sirius what he needed, and in his anxiety decided to just end things before he would inevitably disappoint him, even when the wound was still so fresh and seeing Sirius made it bleed all over again, even then, Remus had not wanted time apart from Sirius. The pain of seeing Sirius simply wasn't as bad as having to miss Sirius. “Why would I want time apart from you?”

Sirius shrugs, trying to look casual, but Remus can see the tension set in his shoulders. “I dunno. Can't imagine it's very fun to be constantly reminded of ‘the worst mistake you ever made’.”

“Ah,” Remus says, finally understanding what all this is about. “You heard about that.” He still wonders what exactly Sirius is so miffed about. That he talked about their previous relationship behind his back? That he hasn't been honest to him about how hung up he still is on him? Or just the fact alone that he is still hung up on him?

Sirius averts his eyes. “I heard Lily and Marlene talk about how that's what you said.”

“I'm sorry,” Remus says. “I shouldn't have talked about our relationship behind your back.”

Sirius’ eyes snap up to Remus’ face. “It's not that you talked, Remus, it's how you talked! A mistake? Like it's something you regret?”

So it is the fact that he regrets the breakup itself that Sirius is angry about. Honestly, Remus can sort of understand. After all, salvaging their friendship afterwards had been hard, even seemed impossible at times, but they managed. And now, when they have finally established some sort of normalcy between them again, Remus suddenly goes and brings up these lingering feelings.

But even though it took Remus a while to admit to himself that breaking up with Sirius had been a mistake, he's never been particularly happy about the breakup, so it really shouldn't affect how things are between them that much.

“It doesn't have to change anything.”

“How can you say that?” Sirius replies. “How can the knowledge that you consider something that still means so much to me a mistake not change anything?” He shakes his head. “You broke my heart, Remus, you know that.” He's simply stating a fact, which supposedly it is. “And yes, sometimes when I look at you, I still feel so much that I wish I could rip my heart out just to stop it from hurting. But when I recall our time together, I recall falling asleep in your sweater with my head in your lap, dancing to our favourite songs in the living room, wrapping my arms around you from behind as you're making your morning tea. Despite the pain, I would not, I could not, call it a mistake.”

Oh.

With Sirius overhearing Lily and Marlene talk about what Remus said, something clearly got lost in translation. Sirius does not know Remus was referring to the breakup being the worst mistake he ever made, not the relationship itself, not Sirius himself.

“So yeah,” Sirius says eventually, his cheeks slightly colouring, as Remus, still processing this new knowledge, stays quiet. “I figured some space would be good.”

There are so many things Remus wants to say all at once, he doesn't know where to start. “I don't want space,” he begins.

“Well, maybe I do!” Sirius snaps. “Damn you, Remus. How much hurt do you think I can take?” He pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. “I care so bloody much about you, you could basically stab me and I would still love you, but I do have a limit, and after being blindsided with the breakup and now you telling people us dating was a mistake, I think I've reached that limit.”

Before Remus can say anything, Sirius turns on his heels and leaves the coffeeshop.

Emotions are swirling through Remus’ body. Sadness and guilt for how much he has hurt Sirius, of course, but also, perhaps misplaced, hope.

‘I still feel so much’

‘I care so bloody much about you’

‘I would still love you’

Maybe the chapter isn't fully closed yet for Sirius either?

Remus jumps to his feet to follow Sirius, but then he realizes they haven't paid for the coffee yet, and he frantically starts patting his pockets for some cash.

“Oh, just leave it!” A voice says from behind, and Remus turns to find the waitress standing there, with her hands on her hips. “Just go! Go after your man! Go!”

Mumbling a quick ‘thank you’ Remus rushes out of the coffeeshop.

“Sirius, wait!”

Remus grabs Sirius’ elbow, and Sirius stops, sighs, and turns around to face him.

“I don't think of you as a mistake,” Remus says. “It's not dating you that I see as the worst mistake of my life, it's breaking up with you.”

Sirius’ eyes widen and his mouth opens in a silent ‘oh’, and, slightly encouraged, Remus takes a step closer to him.

“Sirius,” Remus says softly. “I regret being a cowardly idiot and giving into my fears by breaking up with you before I could somehow mess it up, but I do not, and will never, regret having been with you.” Without thinking, he places a hand on Sirius’ cheek. “I do not regret falling in love with you, and I do not even regret loving you still.”

Sirius blinks at him. “You… You still…”

“Yes.” Remus leans in just a bit and briefly presses his lips to Sirius’.

Like coming home.

Sirius opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before saying “I… I can't get my hopes up if you'll just run the moment things get too real.”

“I won't,” Remus immediately says. “I've learned my lesson, and I will not hurt you again. I hate that I hurt you in the first place, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for that, if you let me. No, scratch that,” he shakes his head. “I'll do that anyway. How I'll do that, that is up to you.”

Sirius hesitates for a moment. “I guess you can make it up to me…” He says, slowly reaching out and placing his hand over Remus’. “By being the best boyfriend I could possibly wish for.”

A smile breaks out on Remus’ face. “You got it, love.”

#wolfstar getting back together #wolfstar fluff #breakup and makeup #we're all the waitress #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #remus x sirius #sirius black #remus lupin

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quitealotofsodapop · 7 months

Note

TMKATI AU Wukong accidently spawning pig ears every now and then. Only seems to happen when around Pigsy for extended periods of time or when he's looking for dad flavored validation. Pigsy at first thinks he's being mocked and complains to his husband. Tang subtly asks Wukong about the ears in private just to find out Wu had NO IDEA he was doing it! Pigsy is crying. Years later, after Wu finally found out it was happening and actively tries not to bc thats embarrassing, he texts Pigsy an unsteady photo of little MK messing with his hair in a mirror oblivious to being watched, trying to shape a second ear with gel he found. Child is frustrated. Caption: "What the baby doin???"

Another photo of MK noticing his audience and lighting up. Caption: "Hold on, he's asking for help"

Last photo, half an hour later. Both Wukong and MK are in the photo. MK in his dad's lap with Wu's head on top of his, both beaming at the camera. Both sporting fuzzy "pig ears." Wukong's are the manifested ears from before, MK's are his natural bang and a second ear sculpted with hair and gel. Caption: "He didn't understand why he was the only one to 'inhawit' anything from Dadsy and why he was missing an 'ear', so we fixed it lol :P"

Pigsy is INCONSOLABLE

omg, Wukong's limited shapeshifting abilities manifesting when he's in an emotional state/mood is so based.

I feel like shapeshifting is *not* uncommon among demons, many use it to appear "more human" and fit in, or to hide blemishes or injury, or even just to fit inside buildings. But the side of it thats effected by the user's emotions is not 100% well known. It's like only seeing experts in sports or games, you have a hard time telling whats "Hard" or a "Beginner" move.

I'm imagining Pigsy and "Wu" cleaning up after a very busy and stressful day (first time Wu has ever handled a rush hour), and they're just chilling when a convo like this occurs;

Pigsy (wiping down the kitchen): "You didn't screw up." Wu, sweeping: "Huh?" Pigsy: "For someone who hasn't worked in the service industry for a long time, you did really good today. I'm proud of you." Wu, quietly smiling: "Thanks..." Wu: (*suddenly shapeshifts a pair of pig's ears*) Pigsy, confused: "Tf?? Was that intentional? Whatever, he's weird enough already." ₍ •̀ ⚇•́₎

Later he mentions it to Tang, a little offended thinking Wu could have been mocking him, only for the scholar to point something out;

Tang: "Wait. You said he spawned pig ears when you told him you were proud of him?" Pigsy: "Yeah! He didn't even comment on it or nothin'! He just finished cleaning, still with the ears on!" Tang, thinking: "Well it's said that demons who use shapeshifting a lot can glitch out when they feel strong emotions." Pigsy (rarely uses shapeshifting): "Huh?" Tang: "Yeah. You telling Wu that you were proud of him probably meant a lot to him, and his magic responded by trying to mimic you." Pigsy: "Why??" Tang, shrugging: "I dunno. The article I read said it most often occurs in interspecies adoption since kids want to *be* like their parents and- Piggy are you crying?!" Pigsy: (*emotional at the realisation that Wu likely sees him as a father figure and/or role model*) "No." (*Lie*)

Macaque witnesses Wukong do this one day and just snickers. Him and Nezha are just quietly betting on how long it'll take for Wukong to even notice that his normal monkey ears now have a permanent "flop" to them, like a pig's ear.

At least until Nezha looks at himself in a mirror and notices that his regular tiny red face markings have spread into a suspiciously familiar... heart-shape. He clams up about any emotional shapeshifting after that.

I am just adoring the phone scenario with MK thinking his hair bang was him inheriting Pigsy's ears, it's so cute! X3

And the baby isn't shy about shapeshifting either. Pigsy and Wukong were super-confused when they went into the resturant one day and saw a little brown piglet standing there - only to both scream with amazement/pride when they realised that MK had manifested his first ever *full* transformation.

On the flip-side Macaque has been accidentally spawning fox ears and extra tails for centuries since his biggest parental figure was Jiuweihuli - who like her title indicates, is a nine tailed fox. He mostly has it under control, but the extras tend to "pop out" when he's being very catty or mischievious.

The vixen warns Macaque about flagrantly shapeshifting or "You'll get stuck like that" as any mother does like to a kid pulling a silly face.

When MK is born with three tails (like his kaiju form), Jiuweihuli smugly declares herself correct - after sobbing with joy after meeting her adoptive grandbaby.

#gif warning #the monkey king and the infant #the monkey king and the infant au #sun wukong #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #lmk jiuweihuli #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk nezha #freenoodles being parents #shadowpeach being parents

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storiesbyrhi · 9 months

Text

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: A non-linear and incomplete series of vignettes. 3635 words.

I: Once upon a time

1986

Once upon a time, there lived a little witch. A very special kind of witch, in fact. Where her coven viewed the world in black and white, she not only saw shades of grey, but an entire rainbow of colours. Where her sisters saw an enemy, she saw an ally. Where the witches who walked the earth before her saw danger, she saw people in crisis.

Oh, yes, you are a very special kind of witch. The kind of witch to fight tooth and nail to heal a bat, save a town, and rip your memories from the locked away part of your mind straight back into consciousness.

When you were made whole again, you and Eddie slipped into a warm bubble of rosy oblivion. For hours, you didn’t talk, didn’t think, didn’t do much of anything except hold each other and press featherlight kisses to lifelines on palms and blue veins on wrists.

It would have been easy to waste days there. You could have withered away, happy at last. Alas, Eddie was far more attentive to your biology than you were, so you left the bed bubble and made your way back into the real world.

Here lies a non-linear and incomplete series of vignettes of that real world, once upon a time.

II: Did it foretell of fate?

1986

Eddie’s hair seemed to shimmer as you twirled a lock around your finger. “Your hair is more normal now, like, in the 80s, than it was when we met.”

He was upside down on the couch, legs running up the backrest, and head hanging off the seat. You were lying on the floor, face to face with him.

“Do you think it means something? Is it an omen? Did it foretell of fate?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “You make fun, but I know you are totally in awe of witchcraft,”

“Being awesome doesn’t make you immune to my wit,”

“I think it’s cute that you think you’re witty,” you mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I said be careful or I’ll turn you back into a bat,” you stated, loud and clear.

“You wish you were that powerful, but it takes at least three of you to do that.”

It made you think. As you sat up and peered off into the distance with glazed over eyes, Eddie huffed. You launched into action, pulling grimoires and moon dust, parchment and white baneberry out from boxes and bags.

To avoid being told to hush, Eddie left you to your work. He tried to distract himself with television. Then, with eavesdropping on Forest Hills. Eventually, his curiosity couldn’t be put aside.

“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen bench turned apothecary.

“I think I can do it,”

“Do what?”

Instead of an answer, Eddie got a sickly-sweet smile and a sly shrug. He knew what it meant instantly.

“I don’t want to be a bat!”

“Oh, but you were so cute,” you cooed.

He was nervous, despite having the upper hand. Witches may have found the cure to vampire death, but you didn’t keep the magic dust on you at all times. He could rip you apart before you had a chance to conjure witchfire. Still, he took a step away from you, trying to act casual.

“What are you actually doing?”

It was always fun to mess with him, you thought. But in this case, you were telling him the truth. “Seriously. I think I can turn you back into a bat. Not permanently. And not in the way the curse did. You’d still be you. You’d be in total control. It’s just… shapeshifting… really…”

Eddie thought on it for only a moment before deciding he still didn’t like it. “I don’t like it,”

“It could be useful,”

“It could go wrong,”

“Eddie, think about it.” You put the vial of bat claws down. “Sunlight didn’t burn you when you were a bat. That alone is enough reason to try.”

There was little function in it. Eddie didn’t see how being able to go out during the day as a bat would be any more advantageous than not going out at all. However, there was a sparkle in your eye he adored, and you had been right – he was entirely in awe of your magic.

“If it makes you happy, my little witch,” he resigned.

You beamed, wrapping yourself around him in the type of hug that made Eddie feel alive.

III: Glass houses

1986

“Too bad the library was destroyed. There so much I want to show and tell you about,”

“I have been watching the television while you sleep… I’m learning.”

You looked up at Eddie from where you were studying maps and ley lines. “Yeah? Equipped to walk out that door and be a twentieth century man?”

“Naturally. Watch.” Eddie stood from the couch and began to mime. He opened the door to an invisible refrigerator, pulling out a can. He cracked open the tab and chugged. He then pulled a face akin to disgust. “This New Coke is not as satisfying as the original!”

You burst into a fit of laughter, much to Eddie’s happiness. “Oh, shit, Eds. You might even be ready for the twenty-first century with that type of scathing satire.”

Eddie dropped back to the couch. “You may joke all you want, but I can hear what the humans out there are talking about,”

“And New Coke is what the residents of Forest Hills are concerned about? Not the huge craters running through the town center or the constant attacks from supernatural creatures?”

“They also spend a great deal of time talking about the Chernobyl disaster and how it never would have happened here in the U.S., and in the same breath lament the demise of the Space Shuttle Challenger as if it were not another manmade horror.”

You glance up at him again, his gaze is on the television screen. “We haven’t escaped that, you know…” Eddie looked to you, tilting his head. “The hypocrisy. The contradictions that are just so… human. Neither you nor I can look at the humans and judge them for being that. We aren’t better than them.”

There was a flicker of amusement on his face. The vampire in him disagreed. Eddie’s heart conceded, and at the very least he conceded that - “Those in glass houses,”

“Something like that,” you nodded. “What else have you learned about the world?”

“There was a war in Australia,”

“You mean the World Wars?”

“No. Although, I do know about those, and I’d like to hear more. But the one in Australia was human versus emu.” Eddie delivered it so casually that at first you thought he was trying another joke. When you didn’t reply, he looked to you. “Do you not know about the Great Emu War?”

IV: Without you, I’m nothing

1986

Eddie lounged on the floor, back to the couch and legs spread wide. You settled between them, letting him take you by the hips and pull you close enough that your spine was pressed to his chest. His hands found a resting place around your waist.

Candles lit and incense burning, you shuffled the tarot deck while speaking your intentions into the atmosphere. “I ask for guidance in making this decision. I need to confront my coven, but…” You paused, choking on a feeling. “But I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know what’s the smart thing to do.”

Laying out four cards in a row, you continued, “Option A is I go alone. Option B is Eddie comes with me.”

You felt Eddie’s hands move against you a little at the mention of his name. Turning to him you explain that the first two cards represent the pros and cons of option A, likewise the last two are the pros and cons of option B.

“And this one…” you said, placing a single card above the row of four. “…is the advice we seek.”

Eddie snaked his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “Do we leave that to last?”

You nodded then took a deep breath in, holding it until you flipped the first card over. The Emperor sat on his throne, golden crown upon his head. “He represents structure and stability. He rules with force and strength, but is also a sign of protection. As a pro for me going alone, it’s signifying that the safety and stability of the coven won’t be jeopardised. I won’t be seen as a threat to anyone’s leadership or authority…”

“That seems to be a very valid point,”

“Yeah,” you agreed with Eddie as you turned the next card over. “Well fuck.”

Eddie picked the card up and studied it. “He looks… calm,”

“He is… He’s there by choice, or at least, by the choices he has made. He has a different perspective from his position but his future is short. This card represents surrender or sacrifice. Being a martyr. Sacrificing yourself for the greater good.”

Eddie put the card down then held you tighter. “Next one,”

“Next one is the pro of you coming with me.” A man wore a victory wreath and rode a white horse. “Six of Wands,”

“Is he a king?”

“No. But he has been successful in his adventure. His accomplishment is being celebrated by these people here,” you explained, pointing to the image. You consider the card. You don’t feel self-assured as it suggests, and cannot see a version of events that lead to public recognition, as it foretells. You move on.

You almost laughed when the Five of Wands was revealed. The people fought each other, sticks raised but no blows hitting, chaos ensuing.

“Violence?” Eddie guessed.

“No, pointless chaos. See how their weapons aren’t actually hitting each other? It symbolises a lack of purpose in the conflict. It represents how people come from different backgrounds or perspectives, or have different history, and that makes it hard to find common ground. It breeds tension and disagreement and conflict.”

There was a clear narrative forming, the cards guiding you in a way they never had before. You wondered if renegade fate had shared a helping hand yet again.

Hand hovering over the final card, the ultimate advice in the reading, you closed your eyes for a moment. Please, you thought, please.

“This one looks… important,” Eddie commented.

“Well, it’s one of the more detailed images,” you replied. A snake, a sphinx, Typhon and Anubis. An angel, eagle, a lion, and a bull. And at the center of all this rich symbolism was a wheel.

“Esoteric.”

You snorted, nodding. “Very. The Wheel of Fortune is so open to interpretation, but its core message is that life has a hum. It moves forward, in seasons or cycles. There is both good and bad. And there is little to do to stop any of this. Luck may play a part. As does our friend fate,”

“That does not seem helpful,”

“Not in terms of helping to make a decision between option A and B, but it does prophesise a turning point, so…” You shrugged, taking one last look at the hand before collecting the cards and shuffling them back into the deck.

Getting up, you walked around the space blowing out candles. Eddie watched you, recognising the expression on your face. He stood and opened his arms, inviting you to him. Like a moth to flame, you immediately stepped into his embrace.

“Have they told you a story?” he asked.

You looked up at him, surprised.

“You’ve told me before. About the cards. How not to read them in isolation. There is always a larger picture. A story.”

The feeling of regular forgetfulness was soured. It sent an icy chill of fear and grief through you. Every single thing you couldn’t recall would be scrutinised. Did I just forget that because I have lived hundreds of years? Or was that memory cut out of me?

“You’re coming with me,” you said definitively. “I’ll tell Kelsey I’m coming, but nobody else,”

“Okay,” Eddie whispered. He would have followed you anywhere.

Letting go of Eddie, breaking the hug, you looked at him. “This is dangerous. You understand that, right? You’ve never seen the real damage witches can do to vampires. Witchfire isn’t the worst thing they can yield anymore,”

“I know. But to… level with you…” Eddie was doing his best to pick up modern phrases and colloquialisms; it made you smile. “Without you, I’m nothing. If I die, so be it. I’d rather death than any sort of life separate to your.”

He pulled you back into him, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then a trail down the bridge of your nose, to your lips.

You kissed him back hard and felt yourself float as he picked you up and took you to the bedroom.

V: A benevolent spirit

1986

The intersection of science and magic is where you and Eddie often found yourself. A union between creatures who had never walked alongside each other often meant new discoveries in the natural and unnatural worlds. For example, a witch and a vampire walk into a graveyard…

“I recall you, on multiple occasions, dismissing superstition as myths,” Eddie tried to argue, pulling at the ill-fitting clothes he was wearing.

You had forbidden him from dressing in one of his new Walmart outfits, citing lore. “It is disrespectful to the dead,” you��d said, making him wear whatever was lying around the trailer. “Do you want to be haunted?” you asked him, now in the old cemetery out on the edge of Hawkins.

“Vampires can’t be haunted,”

“Are you sure?”

Eddie shrugged.

“Because that is a bad sign,” you noted, pointing at the wildflowers that were dying under Eddie’s bare feet. The rot was coming from him, drying out petals and killing the plants.

Eddie looked down, seemingly alarmed. Every step he took away from the decay only started a new outbreak. “Make it stop,” he demanded.

“I can’t,”

“But I’m not wearing new clothes!”

“No, but you did sit on the headstone when I told you not to. And refused to hold your breath when we came in. Actions have consequences,”

“I don’t have a breath! … This has never happened before,” he whined, speeding up to trail close behind you.

“You probably just never noticed before,”

“I would have,” Eddie said, but you both knew it to be a lie. Before you, Eddie wouldn’t have cared about graveyard etiquette. It was in a vampire’s nature to laugh at the laws of the here and the after. They existed somewhere between and beyond those states, cheating death and laughing in the face of life.

1836

The village had buried Faely at daybreak. She had died before her first birthday, born into the world with a sickness beyond the repair of witchcraft. Though, rules had been broken trying.

You held vigil that night, leaving an offering of rosemary at the cemetery gates, then sitting at the foot of Faely’s grave. Eddie had watched you, deciding if he should approach you or not.

“Here, where the dead rest, a witch will smell fresh roses when a benevolent spirit is near,” you spoke out loud. “But if it is something else, then the scent of death comes, as if none of these bodies were buried at all.”

Knowing you were speaking to him despite never turning around, Eddie moved. He knelt on the dirt next to you. “Something else being me?”

“Or anything malevolent,”

“I mean you no harm, little witch,” Eddie said quietly.

You looked over at him. You had yet to cross the line with him. No secrets or kisses yet shared. It would happen and you knew that, even then.

“I know.”

Eddie held out his hand.

The wildflowers already blooming around Faely’s grave were dying under Eddie’s presence. Yet, you let him entwine his fingers with yours and keep you company.

1986

Eddie watched you locate the oldest headstones in the cemetery as if you had some sort of innate homing device for them. You spoke to the dead and asked for permission to take some of their graves’ dirt with you. Small jars filled, you looked up at Eddie and smiled.

The lightning rolled in, splashing bright but silent bolts across the sky. You stood up, felt the lack of humidity in the air. No rain would fall. No storm would come.

“What is it?” Eddie asked, walking back through the grounds with his eyes firmly in the sky. “That’s not normal lightning,”

“No,”

“It’s happened before,” he remembered, the scene slowly losing its fogginess in his mind.

“Normally, I’d say twice is only a coincidence and three is a pattern, but… I guess this is what happens when we’re both here at the same time.”

When you passed back through the cemetery gates, you left rosemary. Sitting in the car, you looked up through the windshield to the dark and settled sky.

“I don’t think we should do this again,” you told Eddie. “I don’t want to know what the universe does if it thinks this is a pattern.”

He stifled a laugh but shut up quickly when you frowned at him.

“We have pushed our luck so much… Do you think fucking with it all is funny? Like being careless hasn’t ruined us before?”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s… Of all the things to break the world, it is simply a vampire and a witch being near dead bodies at the same moment in time? That’s what makes it mad?”

You started the car and pulled onto the road. “There is nothing simple about a vampire and a witch doing anything together. Being anywhere together. We need to be more careful.”

1836

As spectacular as it was to watch, and no matter how comforting having Eddie with you to hold vigil was, lightning without thunder felt wrong somehow.

When you returned to the village in the morning, the coven had assembled. The light in the sky had caused anxiety. “Something against the laws of nature has happened,” Gillian announced. Her expression wasn’t one of fear, but it wasn’t set in certainty or peace either. “We need to be more careful.”

VI: The mess of you

1986

It was strange how you could miss something you didn’t know you had and lost. You felt so homesick for Eddie, so touch starved, and empty that rediscovering sex with him was making you cry. The first few times, Eddie wiped away your tears. That was short-lived.

You were on your knees, bent forward with your face hidden in your folded arms. Eddie’s hips collided with you at a mercilessly slow pace, drawing out both pain and pleasure from your insides. With each thrust, your tears came faster and faster. He ran his hand down your spine, the pressure forcing you to arch, contorting your body more.

He folded over the top of you, mouth to your ear. “Why are you hiding from me?”

The only response you could give was a string of babbling sounds. It felt so good. He felt so good.

“I want to taste your tears,” he whispered. Eddie kissed at your neck, scratching his teeth along the surface of your skin. “I want to see you cry.”

In a blink, he had you flipped onto your back, legs wrapped around his waist. His hands were clamped around yours, pinning you down. You couldn’t hide. Couldn’t cover your mouth. Couldn’t maintain any poise, even if you had wanted to.

The wetter your face, the harder Eddie fucked you. It was something about the mess of you, the release, the vulnerability. He set a perfect pace and didn’t let it fall until you were growling like an animal and begging for softness. Then, he gave you softness.

VII: Slit the throat of fear

1986

“I’m so…” How to quantify your emotions… “I don’t know. I don’t think there are words to describe… this.” You racked your brain for the right sounds and syllables. “And, I don’t want to say it wrong. I don’t want to make all these feelings seem smaller because there aren’t big enough words, you know?”

Eddie knew. He was going through the same process, except there was no imperative for him to come to an eloquent conclusion. He didn’t need to explain to anyone else what was happening inside his mind.

You continued, “Part of me wishes it was just anger. If I was just pissed off beyond belief that would be easy to handle. They would understand that. But… It’s not that…”

“You are sad,” Eddie said softly.

Hearing him say it made it worse. Your face pinched into a deep frown and he took you in his arms again. “It’s all so sad… This is fucking miserable for everyone,” you agreed, mumbling into the crook of his neck. “It feels like someone died,”

“Grief,” Eddie stated. “You’re in mourning. And grief has many faces. Misery. Hopelessness. Anger.” He wasn’t especially wise, but now armed with his memories of his human life, he spoke from experience.

You sat up and let Eddie’s words seep into your own understanding of the situation. “It’s not just different faces… It’s… different shapes. I thought this once before but it makes more sense now. This feeling, this grief, it’s been shaped by what I know, the betrayal and the hurt and the… fuck… the paralysing fear of what I have to do now… It’s shaped and sharpened it into a blade.”

Eddie considers your metaphor. “Well then, my little witch, let us use your grief dagger to slit the throat of fear and bravely face your coven, and the world if we must."

End Note: This chapter took me so long to write. I just couldn’t figure out how I wanted it to go, so a huge thank you to @courtingchaos who workshopped some ideas with me, ultimately leading to the little change of pace structure. Also thank you to @jo-harrington, @munson-blurbs, @vintagehellfire, @rip-quizilla, @pastel-pillows, and @word-wytch for giving me historical, fluffy, and tarot ideas. And @vintagehellfire, for the graveyard scene.

Full disclosure, “slit the throat of fear and be brave” is a lyric from Let Me Down Easy by Gang of Youths. I had already written the grief as a knife metaphor, and when I listened to the song again it kind of just fit.

For those of you who celebrate during the holidays - I hope it is joyful. To those that cannot or do not - I hope you have a peaceful time. I appreciate you all so much and will be thinking of you and this safe place we have built together. xo Rhi

Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16

#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson/You #Vampire!Eddie Munson #Witch!Reader

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daydreamingleclerc · 2 years

Text

it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas // charles leclerc

in which, you and your children wake up charles - a certified humbug - early one morning so you can decorate the house for christmas.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, dad!charles that’ll make your heart go boom, the odd swear words. other than that this is pretty tame so enjoy. as usual, feedback is greatly appreciated! and enjoy the christmas themed stuff <3

requested: no

the return of charles & esmée !!!! plus some more little leclerc’s <3

charles leclerc was many things, a man of great renown, a man of many talents, a man with several world championships to his name, a man who bloomed in fatherhood.

there was one thing he was most of all, and despite never admitting it, your husband was a humbug. he loved christmas day, the presents, the food, the family time, but the lead up was a thing he couldn’t stand; and as the pair of you grew up and had children, that seemed to get worse.

december 1st rolled around faster than you’d expected, and esmèe, your eldest daughter who was six, had officially broken up from primary school. as had her little brothers, antoine and lucien, who were three and a half. your youngest daughter, juliette, was six months, and so she was usually permanently at your side.

it was difficult to try and figure out what to do with the children during their time off from school, but it proved even harder during the christmas holidays, especially now that there were four of them.

you’d managed to drag charles out from his scrooge-like hole to come and watch the christmas lights switch on because esmée was singing in the choir, of that he was proud, but he was anything less than amused when the kids squealed with joy after the town was lit up in a beautiful array of colours. plus, he still was not used to the bitterly cold winters of your hometown where the six of you now resided.

“i just don’t understand why they have to be switched on so early.” charles stated, fumbling with the lock on the front door because of his cold, shivering hands. the boys bickered jokingly behind you, shoving one another with their shoulders as they waddled up the path in their matching snowsuits and wellington boots.

“it’s december the first tomorrow, charles and the children all broke up from school today,” you replied, counting the heads of your three walking children as they entered the house. juliette was bundled up cosily across your chest in her fluffy pramsuit and wooly hat, “that’s why the lights were switched on tonight.”

“i know but—”

“—mummy! daddy!” esmée squealed excitedly, bundling in through the kitchen door. her cheeks were red and blotchy from the cold, and charles’ face softened when he looked at his baby girl, her face almost the splitting image of his.

“yes, sweetheart?”

“the naughty elves are on the fireplace! and they’ve left us a note! come and see!”

charles shot you a look of daggers through slitted eyes, irritated that you’d already kicked off the christmas celebrations in the house. esmée took her dad’s hand in hers, practically dragging him through the house until they stopped in the living room. the twins were already there, waiting eagerly for the rest of you to join.

“look! daddy! can we open the letter?”

esmée pulled charles down to her level, and he saw the four elves all sat along the top of the fireplace with a little envelope held in their hands. you smiled softly when you joined them all in the living room. charles looked over at you and you shrugged, “don’t look at me, baby, they’ve asked you.”

he looked back from you to the three eagle eyed children staring back at him, and as much as he wanted to say no and call the whole thing off, he couldn’t say no to his kids.

“okay! we can get the letter, but only if you read it to daddy.”

esmée, lucien and antoine all squealed and esmée, being the taller of the three, reached in carefully and retrieved the letter. charles sat down next to you on the sofa and the kids all bundled up in your laps - your eldest daughter on charles’ lap, antoine on yours with juliette and lucien stuffed in the middle. esmée handed the letter to antoine, who let his brother take the other corner of the envelope and together they peeled it open. esmée snuggled into charles’ side, and began to read the letter.

“dear esmée, antoine, lucien and juliette, we are your elves, elfie, elvie, eddie and ellie, and christmas is nearly here, so santa wanted us to keep an eye on you all to make sure you’re being good (even if we like to be a little bit naughty ourselves!) we will be here to play until christmas day, remember though, you aren’t allowed to touch us or else we lose all our christmas magic! we’ll try to behave while you sleep, but we like to get into mischief too! let’s make sure santa doesn’t have to check his list to find your names on the naughty list! be on your best behavior and enjoy finding us, love from elfie, elvie, eddie and ellie.”

charles, despite himself, was smiling. his heart swelled at how excited esmée, antoine and lucien got at the thought of their elves coming back, and the only part of the lead up to christmas he would admit to enjoying is seeing the look on his children’s face at what kind of mess their elves were getting themselves into when they woke up in the morning.

“mummy, they remember our names!” antoine’s nose scrunched up as he looked up at you, his eyes a deep brown like charles’.

“i know, baby,” you kissed his head and ruffled his thick head of hair, “they know everybody’s names.”

charles jumped up, and turned to face the five of you. “right, who wants a bath?” he wiggled his finger around the kids, “i think lucien needs a bath!”

charles’ fingers tickled at lucien’s side and the little boy wriggled around on the sofa in a fit of giggles, “no! daddy, no!” he managed to choke out, “anty needs a bath!”

soon, all three of the bigger children were being tickled by charles, and juliette started to stir on your chest. “i think mummy needs a bath!” esmée said, pointing over at you. charles leaned down and jokingly sniffed at your skin, making a scrunched up face and nodding.

“mummy smells,” charles noted, agreeing with his daughter, “she definitely needs a bath.”

“mummy hardly ever has time to have a bath, because she’s got four kids and a husband to look after,” you kicked your husband in the shin softly, “isn’t that right, baby?”

just as charles was about to lean in and kiss you, juliette started to wail. he frowned, pulling the hood and hat from his youngest daughter’s head and giving her a soft kiss through her thin hair.

“what’s all that crying for, babygirl?” he squeezed her cheek softly between his finger and thumb and she stopped wailing momentarily — juliette loved the attention, much like her big sister — but she soon continued to wail. “are you hungry? is that what’s wrong?”

charles’ baby voice was something you adored. “boys, esmée, are you gonna go with daddy so he can give you baths?” the boys nodded, jumping up from their place on the sofa, “and then if you’re all good mummy’ll let you have some chocolate after dinner, okay?”

the boys nodded eagerly and raced one another up the stairs, followed by charles’ shout to ‘please just go careful’.

“can i help you feed juliette, mummy?” esmée asked, taking up the extra space on the sofa by laying down and resting her head on your shoulder. she stroked juliette’s hair softly and you smiled, running your fingers through her curls.

“of course, sweetheart,” you kissed her head, “promise you’ll have a bath afterwards, okay?”

“mhm, i promise.”

you kissed her head again and told her to head to the pantry and pick a pouch of baby food that juliette could eat. you began bouncing the baby up and down so she could stop wailing, and charles let her suckle on his finger for a little moment of peace. he leaned in for once again in an attempt for that kiss, but it was interrupted by antoine shouting for him to come upstairs.

“i might end up getting that kiss by the end of the day if i’m lucky.” he joked.

“sophia‘s mummy let her decorate her christmas tree yesterday.”

it was a simple statement that esmée had said while you were feeding juliette, she was sat at the dinner table next to you with her favourite strawberry milkshake and twisty straw, feet dangled over the edge.

“sophia’s got her christmas tree up already?” you questioned, but you weren’t sure why. you knew sophia’s mother, and she could have her christmas tree up all year round if she could get away with it.

“mhm, and so has cindy and so has marcus,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. you scooped some of the fallen sweet potato and pumpkin mixture from juliette’s chin with the spoon and she smiled at you giddily when you put the spoon in her mouth. “when can we put our christmas tree up, mummy?”

“i don’t know sweetie.”

“can we put it up tomorrow?”

you thought of your husband, how much distaste he would have at seeing the christmas tree sitting in the living room this early, at seeing the tinsel lining the stairwell and the christmas lights out the front of the house. but then you thought of your children, and how their eyes would light up and their giggles would fill the room exactly like they did last december.

“okay, baby. we can put them up tomorrow, but you need to promise not to tell daddy, okay? we can surprise him with the decorations tomorrow morning.”

“is daddy going to be mad?” esmée pouted, worried that she was going to get told off if they went through with their master plan. you paused feeding juliette and looked across at your oldest child. your hand stroked at her face and you kissed her nose.

“no, angel, daddy isn’t going to be mad with any of us, he just…” you paused, thinking of how to phrase what you wanted to say, “daddy’s just a little bit weird when it comes to christmas decorations, but he enjoys them when they’re up.”

she smiled softly and you kissed her nose. you could hear charles and the boys upstairs making some sort of scenario up in the bathroom, because there was an awful lot of splashing, shouting and laughter. “why don’t you go and get ready for a bath, and then maybe if you ask daddy nicely you can have a piano lesson.”

your daughter nodded, kissing your cheek before kissing juliette’s head, and off she scurried. if you really were going to put up the decorations tomorrow, you had a lot of planning to do.

juliette’s hands flew up and down with excitement when she’d finished the last spoonful, and antoine and lucien came downstairs in their ferrari towels, which charles’ longtime teammate and best friend, carlos, had bought them as one of their many birthday presents this past birthday.

soon after, esmée returned hand in hand with charles, both of them beaming from ear to ear after a quick, but very effective shower & piano lesson. charles took juliette off of your hands and allowed you to cook dinner for the kids, wandering off with her to the play room so she could do tummy time.

“mummy, are we really going to put up our tree tomorrow?”

lucien spoke from the dinner table, eagerly awaiting his dinner with his knife and fork in either hand. antoine sat opposite him and esmée sat at the head of the table, a pink blush coming to her cheeks.

“lucien! you weren’t supposed to tell her you knew.” your daughter frowned at her plan failing.

“we might be,” you shrugged at your boys, who looked at you with eager, excited eyes. “but that depends on how much you love me.”

they giggled, shouting and screaming about how they loved you more than anything in the world, and as you handed them their plates they each gave you a kiss on the cheek. you ruffled their curls, “you have to promise mummy that you won’t tell daddy, okay?”

“promise,” antoine said, nodding his head affirmatively and holding out his pinky finger for you to lock yours into.

the evening drew to a close eventually, with esmée falling asleep on the sofa opposite you and charles under her favourite blanket and the boys in bed just after seven o’clock. charles conked out on the other side of the sofa, with juliette splayed out on his naked chest, and you saw this as the perfect time to get out the decorations and hide them in the playroom.

most of the decorations were in the hidden cupboard tucked to the side of the playroom, and you were grateful that you threw them in there at the end of january during the lazy stage of your pregnancy when charles was away training and the children were at school, rather than climbing up into the attic. it certainly made tonight a lot easier.

there were several things missing, like the wreath you normally hung on the front door, and one of the lights that you hung on a bedroom window, but you figured you’d find them later.

“charles,” you whispered, prodding your husbands shoulder, “baby it’s almost one in the morning, come on.”

you managed to place juliette in the cot beside the bed without her waking, and charles carried esmée to bed without another word. his arms wrapped around your waist and he puckered his lips for a kiss, which you obliged.

esmée, lucien and antoine had managed to find the christmas decorations before you’d even woken up at 7:30 that morning, and it was only because juliette stirred that you got up in the first place. you left the bedroom with her so that charles could sleep in a little longer, only to find your three other babies with the santa hats that pascale had bought them last year at the lights all sitting on their heads.

“mummy, look, the elves found the decorations and left us this note!”

antoine handed you the note and you chuckled at seeing your handwriting scrawled on the paper from only eight hours earlier.

dear esmée, antoine, lucien and juliette, we found these in the cupboard and snuck them in places all around the house. your mission for today is to retrieve all the items and decorate the house, but listen to mummy when she tells you where to hang the stockings or else they won’t get filled! p.s, you must make sure daddy gets into the christmas spirit or else he won’t get any presents! good luck, we’ll report back to santa tonight! love from, elfie, elvie, eddie and ellie.

“can we please go and wake daddy?”

“okay, sweetie, make sure you take him a santa hat though, okay?”

your children nodded and rushed through the door to your bedroom, barging in on charles who was barely awake. the children all bundled on top of him and he pulled the duvet up high, covering his chest and he smiled sleepily when he saw them all with their sleepy eyes and toothy grins.

“morning babies.”

“daddy, look!” antoine shoved the letter in charles’ face, “the elves sent us this letter and they found our christmas hats!”

charles rubbed his eyes and you and juliette sat at the edge of the bed, admiring your family as you sat down. “can we please put up the decorations? please?” esmée drew out the ‘e’ syllable at the end of please, begging her father to let them do as the letter says. charles kissed her head.

“if that’s what the elves say then who am i to say no?”

your children all cheered in excitement and quickly pulled the hat from behind them, “wear this daddy! wear it!” lucien jeered, wagging the hat in front of charles’ face until he gave in and stuck the hat on his head.

“come on, daddy! the elves put the tree in the playroom! we have to put it up so they can tell santa!”

esmée grabbed charles’ hand and juliette began to cry on your chest again. she was hungry, and you smiled down at your family. charles pushed back the covers and you thanked the gods above that he was wearing boxers, and got up to follow his kids to the door.

“mummy, are you coming?” antoine asked, his voice soft and feeble as he stood in the door.

“mummy’s gotta feed juliette, bud,” charles ruffled his sons hair, “she’ll meet us and help out soon, okay?”

your son nodded and you ordered them all back in to come and give you a kiss, “and you, charles,” you scowled your at your husband until he kissed you.

“did you really think i’d forget to kiss you, mon chérie?”

your children all made sounds akin to a retch when they saw you kiss, turning up their noses at the sight and looking away. he kissed the top of juliette’s head and then went back in for another kiss with you, “come down soon, okay?”

you nodded, and began to feed juliette almost instantly. her feed took a particularly long time, but she soon fell straight back to sleep almost immediately, and so you stuck the baby monitor to the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

when you arrived downstairs, the christmas tree had been assembled in its usual place, and the kids were bickering about where on the tree to put the tinsel, while charles was telling them to play nice and pulling out extensive decorations with a furrowed eyebrow; he clearly couldn’t remember where they’d come from.

“why don’t we ask mummy where to put the tinsel!”

esmée spotted you in the doorway and ran over with extensive ribbons of red tinsel that were all tied at the ends to make them longer, while antoine and lucien held up a long golden piece of tinsel. charles was still pulling out random decorations with a puzzled look on his face.

“i think you should put the tinsel wherever you like,” you said, crouching down to their level, where they all bundled into your chest, “and let daddy help you with the top, yeah?”

the three of them nodded and you smiled, your heart beating double time in your chest. “what are you going to do, mummy?”

“well,” you said, hooking your arms around charles’ waist and letting him smother you, “i was thinking… why don’t i go and make us all breakfast while you decorate the house with daddy, how does that sound?”

your children nodded excitedly and ran around with the tinsel, claiming they were creating a new game called tinsel wars. charles kissed you once more and leaned down to face you.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, baby.” you kissed his lips and rested a hand on his chest as you watched your children continue to play with their tinsel, and you realised that you wouldn’t have your family any other way.

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cultofdixon · 1 year

Text

Take Your Time

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • People are assholes and go for something that you’ve had your whole life when it comes to making you feel small. But thank god he’s not one of them • ANGST/SFW • TW: Insecurities / Bullying

Requested by: Anon

Alexandria

New place, new people

Same type of assholes, but not all of them at least.

Except when your biggest insecurity is a permanent part of your life.

The entire interview Y/N tried her best not to answer the questions Deanna was asking in full or she’d find herself struggling. Deanna was nice and patient but Y/N couldn’t help but get the feeling that this could’ve gone faster. She’s wasting her time. More around those lines.

Daryl looked up from his hands when he heard the door open and shut, only to notice Y/N saddened expression but when she noticed his piercing blue orbs looking at her she gave him a small smile.

“Was she mean?”

“No, n-not really” Y/N shrugs bringing herself to sit beside him while Glenn entered after her. “S-She made me n-nervous”

“I can see that” Daryl stated the first thing on his mind and felt as if he said something wrong. “Uh. Well. She makes me nervous…too…”

That soft quiet laugh of hers escaped her lips when the archer scrambled but listening to such was music to his ears.

As the group was being lead to the two houses they were provided until further inspection on the group, even if 90% of their weapons were turned into the pantry. So they can’t do any harm…for the most part. Y/N felt a tad uncomfortable which brought her to look around their surroundings and found one of Deanna’s sons that she brought up during her interview staring right at her. She lingered toward the back of her group watching the son approach her as she felt incredibly small compared to the tall individual.

“See your group is finally settling into their new digs” He smiles, as his appearance seemed friendly but Y/N’s anxiety got the best of her thinking something might happen. Guess you tend to feel that way after once thinking friendly people with a new community weren’t going to turn into cannibals.

“Yeah” Y/N shyly states watching the man’s shoulders relax.

“My name is Aiden. What’s a beautiful woman like yourself named? Besides possibly Angel” his flirting could use some work.

“Y/N”

“Do you only answer in short one worded phrases?” He laughs a bit as Y/N didn’t really want to answer him in full sentences if she had to.

“Y-You make me r-really n-nervous” Y/N’s neutral expression turned into a frown and even more anxious demeanor. “L-Like your mother”

Aiden bites his tongue when listening to her speak as he kept a smile on his face for more reasons than to look friendly to the new comer.

“Well. Sorry about that, hope to see you at the party”

“P-Party? Wow. I-It’s really l-l-like the old world”

“Mhm” Aiden did his best to contain it right then and there but left before he could crack.

A crack that turned into out roar of laughter at the party Carol convinced Y/N to go.

Arriving was the easy part to this party. All the strangers locking onto the new comers, especially Y/N, only made her want to leave. But Carol stopped her the first two times she tried to leave. Her wandering gaze was looking for a certain someone but ultimately lead to disappointment when he never came to view at that party.

“Y/N!”

The unfamiliar but familiar enough voice brought Y/N out of her thoughts watching Aiden wave her over to the small group of only new people. When she got closer, Aiden wrapped his arm around her shoulders resulting in her giving a “help me” look to Carol and Rick. Carol only gave her a thumbs up before turning back to Rick.

“If she gets buddy buddy with the sons, we might be able to persuade if needed”

Rick was going to respond but he watches from the corner of his eye Y/N blow up and shove Aiden off of her. He brought his full attention to the scene about to walk over to check on her but all that happened next was the group of Alexandrians laughing and Y/N storming out of the party.

“Take your words back, Carol” Rick states as Carol frowns watching Y/N exit the house. Before she even thought about going after her to check on her, and know who she has to beat up. But Maggie quickly noticed her storm out and went to check on her.

When Maggie returned with no Y/N, Glenn gave her a worried look as she brought herself close.

“She’s fine”

“She say what happen?”

“Yeah but that’s her business. I’ll check on’er again before lights out” Maggie wrapped her arm around her husband looking in Aiden’s direction before back at Glenn. “I don’t trust him, Glenn. Keep an eye out alright?” She whispers to Glenn who subtly turn to who she’s referring to before nodding and kissing her forehead.

The next morning came and Daryl was making his way to Aaron’s garage when he spotted Y/N sitting alone at the gazebo drawing away in a hard cover sketchbook she found in Carol’s house. Daryl remembers the one she lost in the prison and how she’d draw every chance she got after chores and runs she went on. But that wasn’t the only thing he focused on, he couldn’t help but notice the change in atmosphere as he drew closer.

“Mornin’”

His voice startled her at first but she relaxed once she saw who it was.

“M-Morning” Y/N replies quieter than her usual and her smile when Daryl first approached her had faded.

Daryl decided to sit with her a moment ignoring his bubbling feelings because something was off with her. So he wasn’t going to leave her.

“Aaron’s got this bike frame in his garage…you don’t gotta help me but you wanna just. Hang out?” His hint of a smile peeked out when hers returned with a nod. “Alright, cmon”

The two did their own thing in silence, it wasn’t awkward but Daryl couldn’t help his anxious feeling when Y/N wouldn’t talk. She’s usually very talkative with him…

________

“Hey D” Y/N smiles kneeling beside Daryl while he worked on his bike in the court yard of the prison. “Find the p-piece you needed?”

“Mhm. I could use an extra set of hands handing me tools if yea don’t mind”

“Nope! H-Happy to help” She smiles shuffling to get comfortable sitting on the floor while going through the tool box they found in maintenance.

After handing Daryl a few tools here and there, Y/N decided how was the time.

“Can I ask yea s-something?”

“Shoot” Daryl slid out from under to sit up and wipe off the grime on his hands with a his rag.

“Do yea t-think you can help m-me learn how t-to shoot a bow?” Y/N felt a bit off given how bad her stutter can get when she was anxious. But Daryl didn’t show any signs of annoyance or anything. He likes the girl, he doesn’t want to ever make her feel bad.

“Yea found one?”

“Glenn did. J-Just thought..”

“If yea like…I mean if yea ain’t busy later…we can go out and shoot. I’m more than happy to teach yea” Daryl felt himself smile more than his usual twitch of a smile as he couldn’t help the giddiness he felt when she lit up.

“Really?” She smiles even brighter as he nods confirming such. “Ah! You’re amazing D”

________

What he’d do to see that smile of hers

Daryl brought himself from under the bike looking over to Y/N seeing her slow her drawing and an uneasy feeling builds in his chest.

“Hey, mind handing me tools when I need’em? Listen back at the prison?”

“S-Su-…Yeah” Y/N frowns setting her sketchbook down on the work bench before bringing herself to sit on the ground beside him with the tool box in front of her.

Working in silence for a few hours only made the archer worry for the girl even more. He was getting impatient with not knowing what could be wrong, hell it could be nothing. It’s never nothing, what is he thinking?

“I…have the n-night w-w-…watch” Y/N felt her body tense when she struggled to get that out as she puts away the tools Daryl wasn’t using anymore watching him help her. “W-Wh…”

“I’ll walk yea…if yea don’t mind”

He didn’t receive a no but still kept a respectable distance in case she wasn’t entirely comfortable. But Y/N felt safer with Daryl.

As the two made their way toward the front gates, it was Aiden coming off his shift and Daryl knew then that something happened with the eldest son given Y/N immediately hid behind the archer.

“Sup Dixon”

“Hey” Daryl glares a bit but given the time of night, Aiden couldn’t really tell. But he did know Y/N was there.

“Yknow you’re a big dude. But not big enough to hide her.” Aiden scoffs watching Y/N immediately book for the watch tower making the man laugh a bit. “How did you handle that for so long?”

“What yea mean?” Daryl growls watching the man defensively hold his hands up backing up slightly.

“I think you know what I mean. I don’t understand why any of yea kept her around when she can’t get a full sentence out of that broken record of a voice box she’s got”

Without another thought, Daryl’s fist met Aiden’s jaw and that was the end of that conversation. He’ll hear about it from Deanna later but he has his priorities in the moment.

________

No one thought anyone could break Daryl’s hard exterior, but whenever he was around Y/N? The man man was puddy in her hands.

“You’re gonna want to lower your aim. Be eye level” Daryl helped Y/N adjust her aim as she instinctively adjusted her stance before drawing the arrow back.

When she landed the shot, Y/N couldn’t contain her excitement as she screams happily startling Daryl a bit but even he couldn’t help his own excitement.

“Nice shot”

“I-I-I can’t b-believe I—-Ah” Y/N stopped herself abruptly feeling her face flush from embarrassment. “S-Sorry”

“For what?”

“Uhm. My s-stutter”

“Why would yea apologize for that?” Daryl looks at her confused watching her shrug with a bit of a pout. “Hey. Don’t worry about it, sunshine. I wanna hear everythin’ yea gotta say”

Y/N smiles happily when he said that.

________

Part of her wishes they were back in that moment

Daryl quietly enters the watch tower listening to the sobs coming from Y/N as he instantly brought himself to kneel in front of her resting his hands on her knees.

“Y/N, what’d he do to yea? Do I need to do more than just punch’em?”

“Y-Y-You…p-…” Y/N stopped trying to talk as she hid her face in her hands. Daryl wasn’t having it as he carefully brought his hands to hold her face making her hands go to hold his wrists watching her sob.

“Hey…hey hey” Daryl frowns wiping away the tears that fell. “Cmon. It’s just me. I’m here…what did he do?”

“A-At the…” Y/N tried to stop again but Daryl softly shushes to try and calm her enough to stop her crying.

“The party? Is that what yer trying—“ He watches her nod while he continued to take care of the ongoing tears. “What happened at the party?”

“H-He…he was m-m…mocking m-m-me” She cried. “a-and called m-me a f-f-freak in front of o-others”

Oh he’s going to kill this guy Daryl frowns sensing there was more to this, watching her sniffling lessen and the tears slowly stop. “What else, sunshine?”

________

“S-Stop it!” Y/N snaps at Aiden who couldn’t help the laugh to escape his lips.

“M-M-Make me” He smirks getting a laugh out of his brother, Spencer and their friends at the community watching Y/N’s face get heated.

“Y-Y-You’re a f-fucking b-bitch!” She snaps shoving the man. “N-No one l-likes a f-fucking bully”

That was met with silence before an out roar of laughter between the group as Y/N had enough of being there. She shoved Aiden out of her way so that she can leave the party.

________

Yeah. He’s gonna fucking get it Daryl did his best to contain his anger in that moment as he moved his hands sitting on the ground before bringing his arms around Y/N pulling her close to his person.

The archer held her the entirety of her shift, nothing exciting was going to happen that night anyway.

Daryl kept her close for as long as she needed, even on the walk back to Rick’s place where they both had a room in. He stopped at the steps leading to the house to check her once more before they entered.

“You…wanna spend the night with me? I uh. Don’t want yea to be alone tonight”

“Y-You don’t mind?”

“I never mind when it’s yea, sunshine” Daryl gave her a shy smile watching hers finally return after the days without it. The two entered the house together and went to spend the night in Daryl’s.

•

Daryl made his way to Aaron’s garage alone the next morning seeing Aiden on his walk over to the house.

“Hey! You were a fucking dick last night for pu—-“ Aiden was suddenly pushed into the bush in front of the nearby house by Daryl who took out a cigarette after doing such. “WHAT THE FUCK!”

“Sorry, spasms” Daryl chuckles lighting the cig and returning on his way to his bike.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #I was gonna project since I had a real bad stutter before speech therapy but meh didn’t want to anymore #I still like where I went #daryl dixon fanfiction

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ravenn-darkholme · 2 months

Text

Permanent Price - chapter 5

Alex Summers x Mutant!OC

Summary: Isabella Darkholme, sister of raven Darkholme and Charles Xavier. Also a mutant. Her mutation allows her to blend in with the light rays, turning herself and whatever she's touching invisible.

warnings: none that I know of

series masterlist

It seemed the little show of everyone's powers made the group a lot more relaxed. Drinking, music, and games were what kept them occupied. Isabella put forcefields around some of them whilst they unleashed their powers whilst the others watched. Maybe they were all drunk on adrenaline (and alcohol) but they didn't see anything bad about what they were doing. This day was the most fun Isabella has had in a long time. For once she actually has friends apart from her siblings - as much as she loves them. Isabella of course enjoyed hanging out with the others but she specifically enjoyed her time with Alex. And he thought the same.

They both played against each other on the arcade games situated at the back of the room, whilst the others did whatever they were doing. All of them were drinking minus Isabella. Whenever she drank her powers got out of control plus her anxiety always went through the rood even with the tiniest sip. Although she was still having fun, this day was kind of overload for her as she wasn't used to being this social so she sat on a window seat to recuperate her energy.

She felt a presence join her and Alex sat down in the seat next to her, holding a bottle of water. She supposed it was for her. "What's the matter star? you were full of it earlier," he said, holding out the water. belle smiled at the gesture also noticing the nickname. She liked it. "It just got a lot for me. I'm not used to so many people." She said smiling sadly. "I understand. It got lonely in solitary, but it was safer for everyone else." "It's not your fault what happened. You couldn't control your power, don't blame yourself." She said softly grabbing his free hand. They sat in comfortable silence for a good five minutes until Alex broke the silence by saying. "You wanna play a game of table tennis." "Sure but just know I'm the table tennis champion. You're going down." She said moving toward the table. Table tennis was one of the joys of her childhood. Isabella and Raven's mother taught them all kinds of tricks to win and they worked every single time. "Oh really?" Alex asked with a smirk. "Yeah, my mom taught me how to win every single game." She stated proudly.

"Oh, it's on now, star," Alex said. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." ⋆✩⋆

It brought a smile to Isabella's face to see everyone so carefree, but that bubble of enjoyment burst rather soon when Moira, Charles, and Erik came barging in through the broken window in disbelief. "What are you doing!" Moira's loud voice bellowed throughout the room as everyone fell silent. "Who destroyed the statue?" "It was Alex." "Snitch," Bella said defending Alex. "Havok." Raven corrected quickly. "We have to call him Havok. That's his name now." Isabella moved from her spot next to Alex and placed a hand on Raven's shoulder, trying to tell her this was not the time. But Raven shrugged her sister's hand off, approaching the three. "And we were thinking you should be called Professor X." She pointed at Charles before turning to Erik. "And you should be Magneto." "Exceptional." Erik's voice was monotone as he looked at the shapeshifter and her face fell with the lack of excitement from the two. "I expected better from you, girls," Charles stated looking at the sisters before following Erik and Moira. Isabella went to follow after Charles feeling unhappy she disappointed him when she felt a hand on her shoulder stopping her. She turned to see Alex with a small frown shaking his head. She realized she was falling back into old habits, being Charles' shadow, and not making her own decisions. So Belle sat next to Raven, Alex standing behind her on the couch.

"Raven." Isabella softly placed a hand on her shoulder, making the blonde look up at her with gloomy eyes. "It's not our fault. We were just having fun. Being kids like he claimed he wanted for us." "Well, it seemed that Charles has forgotten that." Raven scoffed, a frown on her face as she turned her head to aimlessly stare out the window "Look." Isabella began carefully, her eyes flickering over all of their faces. "If we all have one thing in common it's that we had to grow up way too soon. We all faced our own struggles, and we all lost a part of our younger selves. But that doesn't replace the fact that we're still young." "We were reckless, and we made a mess. That's true, but we also cleaned it up. Now I want all of you to stop moping around." Bella told them sternly her eyes flashing dangerously. "Or Charles and Erik are the least of your concerns." Raven chuckled softly and the others nodded in gratitude, "Thank you." "Don't worry okay? Everything will work out." Belle patted her sister's shoulder comforting her. Bella was proud of herself for handling the situation with maturity. Usually, she would have crumbled under her older brother's stare trailing behind him. If not for Alex she would have.

⋆✩⋆

It was the next day and after last night's events they were all a little worn out and unhappy. Whilst Darwin and Alex were playing a pinball machine, the other sat around staring into space in silence.

“Do you think it will?" Angel asked breaking the silence the girls plus Hank sat in.

“What?”

"That everything will work out?" She clarified.

"I like to believe it's true," Raven answered a small smile gracing her lips as she thought about her younger (by 2 minutes) sister.

“I hope so."

Their conversation was cut short when laughter emitted from the other side of the window and they all turned toward the source to see two government agents staring at them.

"I didn't know the circus was in town." One of the men mocked.

"Hey come on honey, give us a little..." he fluttered his hands in a mocking manner looking at Angel.

"No? Come one let's see the foot."

Hank rolled his eyes before standing up and shutting the curtain as an imminent quietness fell over the group.

"They're just guys being stupid." Raven tried to comfort the raven-haired girl.

"Guys being stupid I can handle, okay? I've handled that my whole life. But I rather a bunch of guys stare at me with my clothes off than the way these ones stare at me." Angel huffed

"At us," Isabella said. She was glad none of them were alone anymore. Yes, she had raven and Charles but none of the others had anyone like them before.

A sudden loud rumble interrupted the tense silence and everyone sat up straight.

"What was that?" Darwin asked turning away from the game he was playing with Alex to look at the group as the banging noise continued.

"I don't know. Something doesn't feel right." Darwin hurried towards the window to open up the curtains again as they all huddled in front of it and stared outside. Before any of them could investigate further a whooshing noise caught their attention and they all looked up into the sky where two figures appeared.

"What is that!"

Suddenly one of the men disappeared in red smoke while the other came soaring to the ground, landing right in front of them. A sickening crunch echoed over the yard as shrieks escaped Raven and Isabella's mouths. She placed a hand over her mouth in shock, staring with wide eyes at the deformed body of the boss of this facility before she came back to the present as Alex pulled her away grabbing her hand.

They all started to get away from the window when more agents started to fall from the sky, each sickening crunch reminding the group of another dead person lying motionless on the ground.

"Just try and stay calm alright," Alex muttered to Belle trying to comfort her. Bellas's heart hammered in her throat as she tried to keep calm sticking close to Raven and Alex. Suddenly more agents appeared in the courtyard with guns. One hammered on the glass eyes wide.

"Stay back. Do not leave that room. were under attack!"

Chaos transpired moments after when a red figure appeared abruptly in the middle of the courtyard. Gunshots rang through the air while shouts followed soon after.

"Shoot! Shoot!"

They all ducked down behind the couch in fear, terrified screams leaving their lips as they watched the scene unfold in front of their eyes. Bullets hit the glass separating them from the fight and Belle placed her hands in front of her projection a forcefield protecting the group from the shards of glass and bullets. Behind them through another glass window, the group could see a large - what looked like a hurricane - appear out of nowhere, leaving destruction in its wake as it tore cerebro apart.

"Stay here my ass! Let's go!" Darwin shouted as he stood up straight rushing towards the door as everyone followed behind him. They were soon stopped by more agents as they tried to get them back but they didn't move.

"We can help!"

"We can help! We can help!" Panic seeped through Bella's veins as they continued to hold them back when a terrifying explosion followed that shook the facility. The group ran down another hallway only to hide behind a couch again, crippling anxiety running through her veins as she stared with wide eyes at the chaos ensuing outside. Suddenly the tornado that previously destroyed Cerebro was coming closer and closer. Isabella got ready to cast a forcefield even though her energy was low.

A terrified shriek erupted from the back of her throat as a man came barreling towards the window, breaking the glass as another scream left the girl's mouth. All of them huddled together in fear as the last few agents were slaughtered in the courtyard and the red devil-like man came marching forward, climbing into the room through the broken window at the same time as another man crawled through the broken window on the other side neatly buttoning his jacket close. There were a couple of gunshots from the hallway, as more shrieks echoed through the room when suddenly a voice spoke up from out there,

"Wait, wait! you want the mutants? They're right through that door, just let us normal people go! We're no threat–" A loud crack followed and Isabella's hand shot up to cover her mouth in shock.

A shadow formed through the tinted window before a man stepped inside the room with a strange helmet on his head. There was complete silence that loomed over the group, like there was a knife pressed up against their throats, withholding them from making any sound.

belle could feel her heart rapidly beating inside her chest, panic coursing through her veins as her eyes darted between the three people. She could feel her headache.

"Where's the telepath?"

"Not here."

"Too bad." The unknown man lifted the helmet off his head.

"Well, at least I can take this silly thing off."

They all watched with wide eyes as he brushed his hand through his hair before introducing himself.

"Good evening. My name is Sebastian Shaw." He started to stalk forward, like a lion creeping up on its prey.

"And I'm not here to hurt you."

His speech was interrupted as a man came into view from outside of the room, his gun pointed at Shaw as he naively threatened the man.

"Freeze."

"Azazel," Shaw said before the red devil-man teleported towards the government agent, killing him swiftly before returning to his previous spot.

"My friends, there is a revolution coming." Shaw continued holding his arms out holding his helmet out for the neatly dressed man to take. Isabella narrowed her eyes at the man, holding her head up just a bit higher despite the fear that was close to taking over her body.

"When mankind discovers who we are, what we can do, each of us will face a choice."

Isabella stood in front of the group with Darwin beside her. Her power was probably the best to use right now. Although her energy was low she had to try for the group.

"Be enslaved." He paused, scanning all their faces. "Or rise up to rule."

Isabella took a deep breath as she watched the man with calculated eyes. He was trying to turn them against each other, he knew they all had a fear of being rejected by society and he was playing into it, using it to his advantage.

"Choose freely, but know if you are not with us, then, by definition, you are against us," Shaw said.

"So, you can stay and fight for the people who hate and fear you, or you can join me and live like kings." He looked at all of them, trying to see their reaction before his eyes landed on Angel.

"And queens."

Belle focused her attention on the raven-haired girl who stared intensely at Shaw's outstretched hand before finally taking it and letting the man lead her away.

"Angel?" Raven asked shocked.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Come on." Angel nodded towards Shaw like it was the obvious choice.

"We don't belong here. And that's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Please, Angel." Isabella stepped up beside Darwin who held his hand out for Angel.

"Don't do this. If you follow him, everything bad, anyone has said about mutants will just be proven right. We have to show them we are not the bad guys."

"They give me no choice, it's in their nature." Angel countered, eyes flickering to one of the dead facility members who was mocking them earlier. Angel turned around to follow behind Shaw.

"We have to do something," Raven whispered as they watched them climb back outside through the broken window. Belle watched as Darwin whispered something to Alex before they began to shove each other around.

"Stop! I'm coming with you!" Darwin shrugged away from Alex's grip to march towards the other four.

"What? Darwin no!" Isabella stepped forward utterly confused as Shaw stepped forward to approach Darwin.

"Good choice." He nodded. "So tell me about your mutation."

"Well, I adapt to survive." Darwin shrugged as Isabella watched the scene unfold in disbelief.

"So I guess I'm coming with you."

"I like that." Shaw grinned holding his arm out, motioning the dark-skinned man to join them. He nodded coming to stand next to Angel before he shouted suddenly.

"Alex!"

"Get out!"

"Do it!"

And just like that Darwin pushed Angel aside, covering her with his body as it turned to stone. Red pulses formed around Alex before he shot them toward Shaw with a loud shout. But instead of decimating Shaw, the man only absorbed the beams of energy.

"Protecting your fellow mutants?" Shaw taunted maliciously, As Isabella came away from the wall next to Alex ready to throw up a forcefield.

"That's a noble gesture. Feels good."

Suddenly Darwin moved forward to attack Shaw, only for the man to block him taking ahold of his jaw.

"Adapt to this." He whispered, throwing the energy he absorbed towards Darwin, the ball being forced down his throat. They all disappeared in thin air as Darwin started to shake and tremble, his body trying to turn itself into something that could withstand the sheer amount of energy coursing through his body to no avail. He held his hand out towards them, now in some sort of lava-like form before he imploded, a strong white light blinding them all for a moment as the remaining parts of Darwin exploded heading for them, Isabella projecting a forcefield protecting the last five. She dropped it turning to Raven and grabbing her in a hug. None of them had ever experienced anything like this, leaving them traumatized. The last part of Darwin, now a pile of ash.

authors note

Alex's nickname for Belle :')

#alex summers #alex summers x reader #lucas till #xmen fanfic #x reader #xmen #charles xavier x reader #erik lehnsherr x reader #raven darkholme #xmen x reader

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robinofinashiro · 6 months

Text

"here you, let us through it's a brand-new star! oh, come be the first on your block to meet her eye!"

♡ character: mikey x reader

♡ pronouns used: she / her

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / if this seems shitty it's because i had some spare time and i wanted to write for my tokrev bois

you looked down to your painted white nails, wondering why you were even being called forward to a dumb gang meeting in the most random hours of the night.

a lot of your gang knew that unless the meeting was urgent and couldn't wait, it wasn't news that they shouldn't go to wake you up.

you lifted your glasses up tiredly, shrugged on your gang jacket, and walked out with your brother.

"if this isn't a life or death situation i'm going to grab the nearest sharp object and start the line of stabbing with you."

your brother laughed as he stood behind you, knowing very well that it was mandatory for him to stand behind you as his father taught him that from at a very young age. being the oldest and as much as your brother hated to admit it, the smartest, he knew it was his job to stand behind you so everyone knew that you were the leader of this very well respected gang.

this was one of your first appearances as your gang's leader, now that your parents had stepped out of place in order to usher in the new generation of members.

not many knew that this gang that had been around for what felt like centuries was now going to be ran by a woman and a part of you loved the idea of shaking these boys to their core when you finally showed your face to them.

all of you were meeting at an abandoned warehouse, one that your people were known to frequent. you let your brother step ahead of you, right alongside with the rest of your members, as you knew that your brother would call you up if any executive decisions needed to be made.

your brother slammed the door opened, making it known to bonten that all of you had arrived. their leader, mikey, smiled as they welcomed all of you in.

"so, it seems as though the gangs from the west side of tokyo have decided to form an alliance in order to take over all of the east and the west. that is not only treading on your territory, but ours as well," mikey stated. your brother nodded, "and your information came from?"

"we had one of our lower ranked members infiltrate their meetings as a new recruit, their motives are to permanently injure you and to make sure i'm away from the city at the time so they can allow themselves to kill or injure both of our members to overtake our ends of the city. they know there's too much risk in killing you and me here in order to achieve what they really want so they're doing it at a slower process than usual in order to gain success without gaining much notice from other allies we have."

your brother clicked his tongue as he processed what ran haitani was saying.

"now if we form an alliance under both of our combined gangs, we will not only remain in power of our territories of tokyo but also gain the small cities they already have control of."

you were tapping your foot on the ground in anticipation as you remained sat on the chair one of your executives had found for you. you were slowly putting together a plan in order to permanently end some of these gangs that were adamant on trying to end your gang's recent success.

"as the leader, we've agreed to the terms of the alliance now it is completely up to you and your members to agree," your brother chuckled, "it is not my final decision to make," he replied as he noticed you finally getting up from your chair.

"are you not the leader of your gang or is this some kind of democracy where everyone gets to vote on it?" mikey asked.

as your brother started to speak, you stood right in front of him, a tired smile on your face as you looked up to bonten's leader mikey and his righthand man, sanzu.

"and this girl is?" sanzu asked, now on high alert. the lights in the warehouse finally turned on as they saw the color of your jacket. it was a bright orange jacket with black lettering as your brother and the rest of your members were wearing black jackets with orange lettering instead, "is she?"

before sanzu could continue, you looked over to mikey, "as their leader and the only one allowed to make final decisions around here, we need to speak individually about the logistics of this deal without the ears of everyone else eavesdropping," mikey's eyes widened in shock.

"i had no clue that the leader of one of the oldest gangs in tokyo was now being led by a woman," your tongue poked the side of your mouth in annoyance, "is there an issue? because the only difference between you and i is that you have dick and i don't but if this is an issue for you and the rest of your team than this 'alliance' is not needed. we can very much handle this situation without outside help."

mikey shook his head in disagreement.

"no issue at all. we can speak individually tomorrow?" you nodded, "we'll meet here at eight tomorrow night. bring your right hand man and my brother and i will meet you here."

you ushered your members to disperse the scene before anyone on the outside got any indication of anything going inside of the warehouse. your brother stood behind you as you gave mikey one final look and left through the metal double doors behind them.

"interesting," rin stated in slight amusement. ran agreed as mikey shook his head, "very interesting indeed."

the night came in quicker than you anticipated. being that you were awake until what felt like sunrise, you were in a bit of a weird mood for not catching your full nine hours of sleep.

your brother knocked on your office door, catching you off guard as you once again put your jacket on and got into the car. you knew that your brtoher and mikey's partner sanzu would be waiting outside of the warehouse building in order to protect the two of you from any potential threats.

the warehouse was very scary looking to any regular civilian who passed it but you grew to like this raggedy building for what it was. the building itself was one of the tallest buildings on the block and you knew it'd be hard for anyone on the outside to eavesdrop onto the conversation due to the thick cement walls.

you commanded your brother to stand in front of the doors, right alongside sanzu, as you walked inside of the building by yourself. you saw mikey's blond hair sitting down on one of the chairs.

"hey!" you said excitedly. mikey did a double take as he did not expect this change in personality, "so, if we go through with this alliance with you and your gang, my remaining question is, how long will it remain for?"

mikey pondered, "it seems as though we're asking the same question," he replied. you laughed as mikey looked at you with a small smile, "it seems as though this alliance can benefit both of our gangs in the long run."

mikey agreed before looking at you, now with a more stern stare, "is there an issue?" you asked, now skeptical of his look, "how about we continue this conversation in a less rundown building?" he asked suddenly

you gave him a slightly bewildered look, "what are you inching towards?" you asked. mikey chuckled as he moved closer to you, "i know this restaurant a few blocks down from here that i'd be happy to take you too in order to continue this conversation."

you let out a laugh as you knew what mikey was hinting at. your father warned you about the possibility of other gang leaders gaining an interest in you in order to gain some kind of power over you but a part of you felt that this wasn't mikey's intention. you felt as though this was coming from a romance standpoint and who were you to fight it?

#tokyo revengers imagine #tokrev imagine #tokrev x reader #tokrev #tokrev x you #mikey sano #mikey sano x reader #mikey sano imagine #manjiro sano imagine #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro sano x you

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