#free contacts backup

[tchotchkez]

damn y'all work really does got me Tired About Eyeballs

[dadsbongos]

virgins can have kinks too!

4.1 k words / summary - multi-chap posts of me experimenting with smut writing

warnings - piv, unprotected sex + creampies, virgin shiggy, college au, porn with minimal plot, partially clothed sex, BRIEF suicide joke, fem reader, 18+ mndi

~~~

If Tomura could go back and change any one thing in his life, it'd probably be how you two met.

Touya is messy enough to live with, now Tomura was forced to account for all the dirt-clodded shoes and unwashed hands of strangers coming into contact with his possessions. Those first hinting throbs of a headache were beginning to tease at Tomura’s pterion, and unfortunately his only access to water was blocked off by a thick weld of moist, musty athletes. Not that they intimidated Tomura, of course, they were just… an optional pain that he’d rather avoid. All their clunky terminology went over his head, and in his experience the people that Touya invites to his parties are not the inclusive type. What Tomura did understand was that they were perfectly posted up against their kitchen sink so as to be as inconvenient as possible; intending to verbally batter whatever unfortunate girl tried snagging from the fridge.

To be fair to them, though, tap water was Tomura’s backup plan. His initial objective was to sneakily steal a plastic bottle before returning to his room. All those were gone, which is sooo funny to Tomura because he’s certain that he just bought a forty pack yesterday.

Yet if Tomura were to point that out, Touya would just shift blame back onto his recluse roommate for knowingly leaving out water when he was inviting people over. So he doesn’t bother finding the stupid punk.

Similarly, he doesn’t so much as attempt either bathroom sink for water. One being annoyingly split off between the kitchen and Tomura’s room, and the other in Touya’s room. Touya’s room was a self imposed no-no for Tomura during their day-to-day, so he can’t fathom a reason to enter during the degenerate’s party. Judging by occasional thumps and ever shifting shadows beneath the gap, Tomura assumes the shared bath is in no better shape.

Right as he sets to retreat, his eyes zoom across their open floor plan -- all the way into the living room, honing in on two girls. One familiar from their shared mythology class, and the other entirely foreign. Himiko Toga is curled around the shoulders of the second girl, twirling strands of mystery girl’s hair with her long fingers.

Himiko greedily consumes all things cute, she chews them up and keeps them between her teeth to amalgamate with the next adorable target her sights set on. By the end of her life, she’ll probably puke up a cat-eared ball of pink glitter tied up with bows and proudly proclaim it to be her life’s work.

Currently, he’s watching Himiko chow down on someone that he, surprisingly, also finds cute. It's distracting.

Himiko lowers her hands until both arms are wrapped around your waist, nails burrowing into the material of your shirt. Her cheek presses against your shoulder, loose strands of blonde hair tickling up your neck.

Your neck strangely captured Tomura, then. Thick with your pulse and tissue, he wants to feel it pillow under his teeth. His lips are rough and chapped and suddenly all he can think about is how they’d feel scarring up the soft flesh of your jugular.

Himiko must be thinking that too because he watches as she turns cheek and digs her nose into the juncture of your neck.

Oh.

Tomura blinks himself free of the stupor and shakes out his hands, then wiping them dry against his pants. He didn’t think Himiko could actually hold down a relationship.

“Whatcha starin’ at, boss?”

Voice so raggedy and low, almost a staticky purr at Tomura’s back, he can instantaneously pick out who it is.

“Did you know Himiko had a girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Touya steps forward, eyes narrowed out into the crowd, “Where? I can’t see shit.”

“I told you to just get contacts, moron,” Tomura grumbles, then pointing as inconspicuous as he can (not very at all) towards their mutual friend still slithered around the unknown girl.

“Kid, that’s not her girlfriend.”

Tomura looks up at Touya, glaring through tangled, powder blue bangs, “You’re joking, right? I’m not stupid.”

“Seriously, it’s not,” Touya snickers, “Why? You interested?” when Tomura can only silently seethe up at the man, Touya grins: a sight more disturbing than reassuring, his teeth are too big and prominent, the bags under his eyes crinkle up weirdly, and it reeks of selfish glee. Touya jams out his index and middle fingers, waggling the index first, “Which one? Blondie?” then his middle, “Or new girl?”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” Tomura knocks down the man’s hand with a disgruntled scoff, “You’re mental.”

“We’ve been friends awhile now, no?” Touya stubbornly returns to pointing, “I’ve never seen you get worked up over a girl, it’s funny. So, which one?”

“It’s funny?”

“I’ll set you up.”

Admitting to the fact he’s got a beating heart and libido is so embarrassing, which leads to Tomura halfheartedly muttering, “If I had a thing for Himiko, I wouldn’t have told you first.”

“You’re cute,” Touya quips, reaching up to pinch Tomura’s cheek between black-painted nails -- pointedly ignoring the annoyed huff and swat resulting. He steps around Tomura to venture through the jungle of his guests, “I’m on it.”

Touya is one of the best, and worst, people that Tomura has ever met. Touya is bothersome and rude and sometimes downright narcissistic, but also headstrong. Touya decided the day his dad bought him this house that he wanted to room with the dork from his freshman year geography lecture. Touya decided that Tomura and him were best friends when Tomura helped him pass their aforementioned geography class. Touya decided last year that the pair should bleach their hair together for a laugh. Touya decided just now to be Tomura’s wingman.

His singlemindedness pairs almost lethally well with his sense of loyalty. It almost made Touya seem… admirable.

Tomura internally gags over the thought, quickly refocusing on real life where Touya is leading Himiko (who is leading her mystery friend via deathgrip on your hand) back towards the kitchen.

Himiko giggles upon seeing Tomura, “You thought we were dating?”

Nevermind. Touya is just as insufferable as he was three years ago badgering Tomura for his lecture notes.

“Be nice. You’re so touchy, I’m sure everyone thought we’re together,” mystery girl squeezes Himiko’s hand, then smiling over at Tomura, “But I’m totally single.”

Oh.

Touya’s the most direct, masterminded person Tomura’s ever met.

All that masterminding goes to utter waste if Tomura can’t wake up and relearn social cues, though. Touya jabs an elbow into Tomura’s gaunt side, ribs aching from the blow.

“Okay,” Tomura nods dumbly, swallowing the unease trapped in his throat and once again drying his hands against his sweatpants.

“If you couldn’t tell,” Touya yanks Himiko into his side and out of your hold, “So is he.”

Himiko whines and reaches out as Touya drags her off, the pair slinking somewhere deep into the crowd of thrashing, bumbling bodies.

“You don’t look much like the party type,” you hum, maybe a little unhelpfully. Tried and true method of flirting, however, is being just a tad mean. A less fluffy version of the tragic come here often? line is sure to crack this man’s icy exterior.

“My roommate,” Tomura flings a thumb over in the direction Himiko was hauled off, “He’s the delinquent, I just share the space,” suddenly the insides of his sweatpants are too hot, and so is the flimsy white shirt on his chest, “I just wanted water.”

Sweltering air beats from the center of his chest down to his ankles, even tickling up his neck. The longer you stare at him, the hotter his body feels. Scorching up his face too, burning away layers of dried, ungroomed skin to reveal every muscle twinge. Tomura wants to both comb his hair back and hide behind the strands (most of all, though, he wishes he’d bothered brushing it whatsoever before making his venture). Being so trapped between either option makes his brain short circuit until he’s, rather bashfully, tucking hair behind his ear like some blushing ingenue.

Thankfully you don’t appear troubled by the sight, instead grinning wider and even laughing at his admission (Tomura likes your smile: lips giving prominence to flattering teeth, balls of your cheeks plumping, and lashes fluttering. Definitely more lovely than Touya’s). You fold your arms, “Poor thing. You probably don’t wanna be stuck out here, huh?”

Insecurity visibly crawls along the downward twitch of your lips, your brows furrowing. Tomura stares at you, committing each divot and angle of your body to memory. By the time he’s finished, he realizes you’re waiting for him to respond.

“Yeah…” he mutters lamely, scratching at the crackled film of skin over his chelidon, then smoothing a thumb into the depression as his heart hammers up his throat -- pressing a disarray of words against his palate. They linger by his uvula, gagging him into stunned silence, until he can finally choke out an uneven, “Do you wanna go back to my room?”

As soon as the question was in the air, buzzing unattended between your faces, Tomura wanted to claw out his eyeballs. Maybe rip out his tongue, too. Such gore would surely erase any memories of his implying he thought he had a chance with you. That was far preferable to the disgust about to cross your face.

Except, that disgust never comes.

Alternatively, you nod, “Sounds fun!”

Tomura kept his area tidy enough. A stack of bowls, two cups, three empty Dr. Pepper cans, and a single Maruchan ramen cup on his desk. A lump of clothes he’s procrastinated washing carefully lines the edge of his bed. But that was all, really.

He wanted his room to be livable, and if he felt so childish as to be proud of it then he liked the sight of his uncluttered carpet. How easily he could make the trek from bed to computer to door (and, of course, the desultory detours to his bookcase or closet) without tripping on trash or abundantly strewn clothes. If he felt further inclined to childishness, Tomura even congratulated himself on maintaining a room cleaner than Touya’s.

Even despite the stacked bowls and cups on his desk and emptied soda bottles cluttering his desk legs.

None of that is sufficient anymore. He’s inspecting your face like it’ll burst open with an alien race for any sign of judgment. Cautiously, Tomura kicks a tangle of loose shirts under his bed while you’re distracted ogling his decorated shelves.

“You like Omori?” your question startles him from kicking a pair of boxers under his bed.

“Huh?”

You’re pointing at a lineup of four acrylic stands -- not the complete set, Tomura only burdened his wallet with purchasing the main party over including Basil and Mari -- on the top shelf of his bookcase, “Omori, right? I didn’t think you’d like that type of game.”

“Do I not look like I would?” he doesn’t know why that inference hurts his feelings. Shamefully, he cards his fingers through his knotted hair, slotting more locks behind his ear, “I played it a long time ago. Now I’m too busy for anything else story-driven, so I’m mostly on League. Or Overwatch if I feel like killing myself.”

“You don’t look like you like suffering, I guess is what I meant,” you draw your bottom lip up between your teeth (he hopes it doesn’t sting, he wants to kiss it better if it does), “But knowing you play Overwatch…”

“I try to avoid it,” Tomura prays his self-grooming is subtle, or at least lowkey enough for you to not notice as you continue browsing his various knick knacks and figures, “You game?”

“Eh, RPGs usually. I don’t like working with others when I play, it makes me nervous to screw up.”

“That’s cute,” he doesn’t mean to say it aloud, honestly. Two measly words small enough to slip through his pursed lips. Two words big enough to ruin his night.

“Think so?” but you’re… smiling again.

“I guess,” Tomura’s eyes shift quickly over to his pillows. Are they soft enough? Should he flip them over? What the hell is fluffing, and does it actually do anything?

“Are you usually this shy? Or am I special?”

Not often does Tomura feel truly helpless, but your incessant teasing pairs lethally with your fluttering lashes and painted lips. He wishes he were more accustomed to conversing with strangers, especially pretty strangers that were interested in him. Part of him wants to believe that if you’re attracted to him now, you’ll be stubborn enough to stick out whatever cluelessness he bumbles out -- but he doesn’t. He simply cannot bring himself to buy that.

“You’re making me nervous, like I’m about to puke.”

“Flattering,” you join Tomura on his bed, soft knee nudging his, “I hope you don’t. It’d kinda ruin the mood.”

He’s terribly unable to keep the casanova impersonation up, though, “What mood?”

You throw your head back and laugh. Hearty and full and so mortifying for him, worse are your next words, “You know why people go into private rooms at parties, right?”

“Uhh…”

“You do. I do, too. That’s why I came back here, you know? If you only wanna talk, that’s fine -- you’re fun to just talk to! But I came back here ‘cuz I want to have sex with you, if you want to, too.”

Tomura can feel that dreaded heartbeat climbing up his chest and into his gullet again.

“You’re forward…”

You shrug, “I know what I want.”

Tomura claws at his sweatpants, chest aching and fingers numb from how your eyes are zeroed on him. He nods slowly, racketing another giggle from your chest -- you lean closer, your hand brushes his.

“Yeah?” you coax a hand around Tomura’s far shoulder, swiveling him to face you.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan gurgles the sound of his reply, you hate it.

From the shape of his lips, you can make out his agreement. With no specific intent and only a general sense of lust to guide him, Tomura leans into your touch. Snatching his hands, you shuffle his palms under your shirt, sifting the flesh up your warm belly until they’re cupping your tits. He squeezes blindly, teetering closer along his mattress. Finally, you strip off your top -- then greedily going for Tomura’s as well. He contently allows it, even lifting his arms to grant the removal.

“You’re so pretty,” Tomura noses at your neck, hot puffs of air warming your skin, “Can’t believe you’re actually here.”

His hands are soft from a lax life, if slightly clammy with nerves, and they feel nice squeezing around your hips. Tomura dips his pelvis downward, keeping your thighs scooped snug around him -- bonus for the momentary relief of pressure against his aching groin. His fingers bow beneath the waistband of your skirt until your own are tethering his in place.

“Can I leave the skirt on?” your thighs tighten around Tomura’s slim waist, you tilt your head so your soft lips press against his cheek, “Its kinda hot. To me.”

Tomura rolls his shoulders, whole body shuddering at the request. He nods with clenched eyes, digging his nails into your skin -- he likes your idea more than he can put into words (granted, his tongue may as well be superglued to his teeth right now).

“I can do that,” he manages to scrape out, drawing his fingers down the bunched material of your skirt and up your thighs, “Can I take these off?”

“Please,” you cant your hips up for Tomura to yank off your panties, he bundles them in one hand and stows the other where the material once laid. You swear you hear him whimper at the contact.

His fingers dance up your slit, gentle massaging that intensifies upon introduction of his thumb on your clit. Tomura drops your underwear off the side of his bed and uses the freed palm to work off his sweatpants, but just before he can snap the drawstring -- he stops completely.

“Wait,” he pants, “Hang on. Don’t move.”

Tomura runs out like he’s caught fire, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him and leaving you splayed on his mattress.

He returns with a fist curled around something, and determination written in the lines of his face. Replacing himself between your thighs, Tomura hides the contents in his hand under the pillow beneath you. Before you can shoot any questions, he’s lifting your skirt and lowering his chest to the bed.

As if he can sense the curiosity burning away your mood, Tomura hurriedly buries his face in your cunt.

One gasp is stuttered short by another, Tomura flicks his tongue inside you with a groan. Pulling back only to spit on your clit, the liquid bubbling down your slit until it catches on his prodding fingertips -- your thighs jolt around his shoulders at the act. Middle finger worming into you with ease, Tomura’s burdened by the vestige of Touya’s hand on his shoulder and husks into his ear.

Yeah, condoms are in the top drawer. You need advice?

He’d been uneasy initially, nodding uncertainly, but Tomura’s grateful now.

Just as he’d been instructed, Tomura curls his middle finger and screws the pad up until- your knee knocks into his skull and he keens at the rough treatment.

“S-sorry,” you stammer out, chest arching up.

Bypassing your apology, Tomura flattens his tongue on your clit and slithers a second finger inside you. Surely by tomorrow, his arm will be sore with the work he’s pushing through, but he’s equally sure it’s worth it as you clamp around him and seize.

Strumming your gspot in time with your clit, Tomura loses himself in the thought of how your snatch would feel around his cock -- grinding against the marshmallow mattress below to relieve the pressure. Your only relief is how he greedily sucks your clit; he lets you grab his hair with both hands and roughly tug him to and fro. He lets you fuck his face, eats it up in earnest.

Prying your thighs back from his ears, Tomura shoves his sweatpants down and reaches under your head. Pulling back a foil square that crinkles with each nervous shake of his hand. Tomura’s plain black boxers soon crash to the floor as well.

“Hey,” your voice pipes up meekly, a little slurred after your orgasm. Drowsy eyes half-lidded and even sweeter on him, “Can you, uh…”

Tomura’s burning hot, flushed and vaguely sticky; bangs slickened against his face with sweat and cum. His breathlessness axiomatic of how little composure he could maintain, “What?”

“Don’t…” a shyness that now seems bizarre overtakes you, your fingers curl into his palm and unfurl the condom from his grasp, “You shouldn’t… I wanna feel you.”

He blinks down at you vapidly. So stupidly blank he's immediately ashamed of himself for blanching at your plea.

“You want it too, right?” you reach up and paw at Tomura's shoulders, “You wanna fuck me raw?”

“Uh-huh,” again dumb.

Tomura spares that response no reconsideration, instead preoccupied by holding your thighs open to nudge his cock into you. His tip bobs at your clit in the first few jerks, but his thinly construed patience is rewarded on the third attempt. You tug on his hair as Tomura humps into your sex.

He whines upon feeling that first squeeze and suck of entering your cunt, his pelvis itching up against your clit with every thrust. Blunt nails carve into the fat of your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer -- Tomura’s cock carves deep into your gut, hot and heavy. Chapped lips sear up the length of your neck, his chest squashing against yours, he teeths at the lump of your pulse and lathes the thumping point with his tongue. Budding his knees right beneath your ass, Tomura burdens the tops of his thighs against yours. Then wrapping your waist with both arms, continuing to suck your soft skin between his teeth.

Tomura gasps as the warmth of your hands finds his back, rolling lower and lower until you’re actively pushing him closer. He likes this -- loves it, even. He’s horrified to know he could’ve been having sex his entire college career and simply didn’t.

He’s further horrified that perhaps he’ll never have sex again when you leave (but mostly, he’s finding that he just doesn’t want you to leave).

“Be my girlfriend,” delirious, he’s babbling into your ear, whining and shuttering and smothering your body with his, “Be my girlfriend…! Wanna fuck you every day-- need you every day. So fucking warm and soft, all perfect for my cock,” Tomura pulls up from your neck to kiss the thin stretch of skin over your collarbones and treading to your breasts, “Like you’re made for taking it.”

What you want is to have the mental cognition to respond to him kindly, but what you have is a mushy brain and a flourishing climax scorching through your body. Grey matter melting into the bowl of your skull as Tomura kisses and pants into your tits.

“Tomu’-!” is all you can manage to squeal, nails digging jagged red lines down the man’s back.

“You cumming?” he reaches between your bodies to incise the pads of his fingers across your sodden clit.

A final push into your sensitive body, the attention spiking your head back into his pillow. Faintly, through the rush of dopamine pumping through your extremities to where your hanging mouth is expelling wanton wails of Tomu’! and yes, God! and cumming!, you can hear Tomura. You can hear him chuckling low and deep with ecstasy, “So pretty when you cum. Squeezing me so tight, too. You like me that much?”

He whines unexpectedly, wrenching both hands to your hips and branding the imprint of his calloused palms there.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he grits his teeth, scratchy throat puking up pulpy, disjointed moans of your name and fuck, fuck fucks, “I’m gonna cum,” he latches onto your tit, muffling his pathetic mewls as your legs lock him in your cunt (trembly and weak as they may be), “Cumming, cumming- ! Fuck!”

Stilling above you, Tomura chokes out soft breaths and murmurs of appreciation as he cums. Sincerely thanking you as his spend paints your insides. Collapsing on you once his balls are empty. Tomura barely has the wherewithal to roll onto his side in order to avoid overheating you under him.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan regains your attention, but this time it doesn’t seem too bad. You can’t find yourself to be very annoyed, even when the music pumping from outside vibrates Tomura’s bedroom door. Above those sounds, the one you appreciate most is the soft pelting of Tomura’s breath against your neck; damp with a mixture of sweat and his saliva, and sore from his incessant teething.

“Did you mean it?” you’re probably being mean, asking such a layered question so immediately after his release.

“About?” his voice is raggedy, sharp to a bladepoint -- if you couldn’t see the dazed, awestruck film over his lidded eyes, you’d mistake him as trying to be rude.

“Me being your girlfriend. Did you actually mean that? Or did your dick have the braincell?”

“Oh,” Tomura pushes onto his elbows, arms shaking, his hair drops over his face and this time you’re the one to brush it behind his ear. Despite cumming in you minutes ago, he blushes at the gesture and looks at your bruising neck rather than your eyes, “I guess. I don’t have a car, so I can’t drive you around for dates.”

“I can take the bus, you know,” you laugh at how Tomura’s face suddenly sours at your words.

“As if I’d let my girlfriend take the bus by herself. Do you know how many freaks go on that thing?”

“‘Cuz you’d know.”

“Yeah, I’m one of them,” the giddiness rising in his chest over your giggling at his jab quickly overtakes his face, cheeks burning with a proud smile. Tomura hides his face in your neck, “I guess it’s up to you.”

“It's up to me if you were serious or not?”

Quietly, he hums, then rasps out something you could construe as a joke if you didn’t care so much about how he felt, “I only open to begging in the sheets. Being desperate to date the first girl I fuck is so pathetic.”

Which is so insane to you because you met this man only a few hours ago.

A broiling affection that builds between the slats of your ribs, bricking off your lungs and heart just to cook them up hot and gooey and primed for the man on your chest. At least Tomura’s burgeoning crush could be reasoned away with the fact he’s a recent ex-virgin (not like you, with visitors running rarer than Tanzanite).

Still fluttery and alight with the wash of your orgasm, you give your heart the braincell and nod sluggishly, “Yeah. I want you to be serious.”

Decidedly, you spare no mind how you two barely know each other.

[totalswag]

nonsense — DREW STARKEY

authors note i've wanted to write a singer!reader drew fic for the longest time. i've read some singer!reader fics lately and it gave me some inspiration to write my own. i hope you guys enjoy reading. this was also requested by an anon not long ago, so if you’re reading this enjoy 🩵. the song choice is nonsense and just think to when sabrina is performing this song at coachella.

summary performing at coachella for the first time with friends and your lovely boyfriend supporting you in the crowd.

warnings none!

Coachella.

This is your first Coachella where you are performing. You will be playing live in front of millions of people. This is the last weekend for the festival.

Tens of thousands of people travel from all over the world to attend Coachella. The festival features sculptures, art installations, and other open events in addition to music.

When your manager called you about being invited to perform you couldn't believe your ears. Now, here you are about to step on stage.

Standing in a circle backstage with your crew, discussing everything you've prepared for over the last few days and having fun out there. This is what you always do before a show.

Second weekend of the festival.

Walking on stage seems like a surreal experience for you. Looking around, you can sense the intensity of the enormous crowd in front of you.

The weather was lovely, with the sun still shining and the breeze brushing over your skin. 

"Hello Coachella, my name is Y/F/N, what's yours?" You smile into the microphone while waving away.

You began by introducing the crowd to yourself, your backup dancers, your music, if everyone is having a great time, etc.

Interacting with your fans is one of your favorite parts of singing on stage. You value your interactions with them since you like conversing. When you read comments on your shows, they usually mention how fascinating you are.

After singing a few songs from the set list, you took a little breather and spoke to the crowd saying a joke, making them laugh.

You begin the next song by sipping from an old-fashioned soda bottle while seated in a chair. As you take a seat, you glimpse your boyfriend, Drew, along with a couple of your friends and security. 

You two make eye contact. Butterflies fill your stomach. You offer him a small wave, and he smiles and turns around, presumably blushing.

Fans up close captured the brief interaction with their phones out. We'll see it on social media later today.

Drew and you began dating in the midst of season three of Outer Banks. The first outing was Pougelandia, and fans began to speculate about your relationship because it came out of nowhere.

To be honest, Madelyn Cline and you were close friends before she began filming season one of Outer Banks. She’s the one who introduced you to Drew.

"The last song I'll be playing for you guys is nonsense, so if you know the lyrics, sing along," you cheer, lifting your free hand in the air, moving it around with excitement.

"Is it possible we get my amazing dancers out here," you turn around, pretending you have no idea where they went, "guys come out here, we could perform some sort of choreography, you know" as you gaze at your dance crew coming out the set.

Nonsense is about Drew.

It is one of your favorite songs that you have written. When you first released it, many were unsure who it was about until photos of Drew and you emerged.

Think I only want one number in phone

I might change your contact to "don't leave me alone"

You said you like my eyes and you like to make 'em role

Treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin' thrown, oh

You dance with your dancing crew, who are behind you and moving in sync. The choreography is muscle memory for you guys because you've been performing this song for a few years now.

But I can't help myself when you get close to me

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like "bleh bleh bleh"

I don't want no one else (no no) baby, I'm into deep

Here's a little song I wrote (a song I wrote) its about you and me

When you sing the last line of the pre-chorus, you gesture to Drew in the audience, who moves his head side to side while listening to you sing and blushes when you point to him. You giggle into the microphone.

Fans started cheering louder as they watched you motioning to your lover in the audience.

You continue to move around stage all throughout the song.

You go around the center of the stage as your backup dancers finish their final few dances. One of your backup dancers grabs a chair for you to sit in.

At the end of nonsense you always come up with rhymes. Started doing this after the first performance and can't stop doing it.

Told him he makes me weak to my knees

Everything about him just so dreamy

By the way he's name Drew Starkey

When you say your boyfriend's name, the crowd cheers. You saw his response as he mouthed the words "I love you," dropped his jaw, and put his hands over his heart.

"Coachella, you've been amazing to me these past two weekends. Thank you so much. Can we please give a huge around of applause for our amazing dancers, come on out guys!" Excitement in your voice when you call your dance crew out on stage.

Once you guys made it off stage, you guys began cheering with a bunch of energy. Everyone gave each other hugs.

"Water is calling my name right now" you groan with urgency.

Approaching your manager, holding a cold water bottle for you- thanking her a few times as you open the bottle. You were about jugging down the water when you heard Drew's voice approaching.

"Hi baby," you squeal, dragging the y in baby, and rush into Drew's arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Being in his arms sends relief in your body.

He smells so good.

He chuckles, "You did so well out there, so proud of you," and delicately places you on your feet.

"Thank you," blushing to the point where your cheeks were red. "Did you enjoy the outro of nonsense?" You inquire with curiosity, despite the fact that you already know his response.

He softly grins that makes your heart flutter, "Mhm yeah I did" kissing the top of your head, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"Why don't we get something to eat?" "How's that sound, baby?" Drew asks, his arm still around you.

Your ears and eyes light up from his request, “obviously yes.”

Before leaving you heard the voices of friends turning the corner. The rest of your friends, as well as Drew's cast members who are also your friends, returned to stage, thrilled to see you.

It was so good to see them.

Drew and you returned to the van to change, drove to the Airbnb to relax before returning to watch other artists perform after the sun had set with your friends.

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[steddieas-shegoes]

fairy porn crisis

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'bookstore au' wc: 964 rated m cw: dirty talk, implied sexual content tags: bookshop owner eddie, steve is having a sexuality crisis but subtly, flirting, getting together, modern au

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"Thanks for covering for me, Wayne," Eddie said as he set his bag down behind the front desk, slightly out of breath from running from the bus. "Won't happen again."

"'S alright, son. Everything go okay with the counselor?" Wayne sipped from his mug, probably his fourth or fifth cup of coffee since he opened the shop that morning.

"Yep. Still on track to graduate in May."

Wayne's stipulation when he "sold" the bookshop to Eddie was that he still get his degree as backup. "Bookselling is a dangerous game and I won't have ya strugglin' if somethin' fails."

"Thatta boy," Wayne clapped him on the shoulder. "Been a slow morning. But your favorite customer is in the back."

Eddie felt his face heat up.

"He's not my favorite."

"Sure he isn't." Wayne rolled his eyes. "I'm off to get a beer with Dave. Call if you need me."

Eddie gave him a thumbs up as he checked over his emails, the one thing Wayne was terrible about doing when he was covering the store. There weren't many, never really were on Tuesdays.

He waited for Wayne to leave, the door chiming with his exit.

He jumped up and made his way around the counter, walking towards the back room hastily.

He found Steve sitting on the beanbag placed in the corner, book in his lap, face bright red.

Eddie squinted until he could see what book he was reading and nearly passed out.

His Ring was the first book in a series focused entirely on a group of queer mythical creatures. It was the only book of the series Eddie had read, and he'd only admit it under risk of death.

It wasn't that it wasn't good. It's just that it was basically porn.

And this one in particular focused on two male fairies, one who was gay and one who spent the entire first half of the book having a bisexuality crisis.

Steve was reading it with the prettiest blush on his face.

Steve, who up until this moment, passed as the straightest human being Eddie had ever met.

"Have you gotten to the part where Ereldi has to sit on Brelend's lap for an entire dinner?" Eddie asked.

Steve jumped and slammed the book closed, pushing it under his legs as if Eddie hadn't already called him out. "What are you talking about?"

"Stevie, I'm the last person to judge your reading habits. But I do have to ask why the sudden interest in queer fairy porn? You're usually reading sports memoirs and doing word searches."

In other words, 'are you interested in testing out your sexuality with me? I can pretend to be a mythical being if needed.'

"Just needed a change of scenery?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Steve's blush deepened, and fuck, Eddie was about to be so unprofessional. Hopefully he wouldn't lose a customer over it, but it was a risk he had to take.

It's just that sometimes Eddie could swear Steve was watching him while he shelved books or swept the front room floors. And sometimes he caught him staring at him during his weekly storytime for kids where he gave out free books and cookies.

And Eddie always wanted to have Steve in his lap.

So.

"I." Steve refused to make eye contact, a sure sign that something was going on. "I just got curious. Heard someone talking about it and wanted to see if they were telling the truth."

"And were they?"

Steve didn't answer, so Eddie decided it was now or never.

"You know," he took a few steps closer to Steve. "I'm not usually one for those books. But there's something about the way they paint a very clear picture of how Ereldi rides Brelend in the forest that just draws me in." Another few steps. "Actually, Ereldi reminds me a bit of you."

Steve visibly gulped.

"But you wouldn't be interested in riding someone would you, Stevie? Prefer women to hop onto your lap and go for a ride?" Eddie's heart was racing.

And then it stopped completely when Steve gave the most unexpected answer he could have possibly given.

"I'd be interested in riding you."

Steve's wide eyes stared back at Eddie, daring him to make a joke, daring him to laugh.

Eddie wouldn't joke or laugh about this. He wasn't wasting this chance.

"Is the forest a requirement or could I go lock the front door and take you upstairs?"

Okay, so he couldn't not make a little joke.

"Forest sounds messy. Upstairs."

"Oh, I plan to make a mess of you regardless of location, sweetheart," Eddie leaned over Steve, foreheads touching, smirk growing as Steve's eyes closed. "Won't even have to get you hard, huh? The book did all the work for me."

Steve tilted his head back, lips puckering, searching for contact from Eddie's.

Eddie pulled away. "I close up in ten. You know the way upstairs?"

Steve's eyes blinked open as he nodded.

God, he was gonna be fun.

"You wanna be a good boy and wait for me up there?" Steve nodded and stood from the chair, wobbling slightly as he tried to gain his balance. "I want you naked in bed when I get up there, got it?"

"Um, I've never-" Steve started.

"Oh, sweetheart. I know. It's written all over you. I'm gonna take real good care of you, though. Better than anything you would read in that book."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, sugar?"

"I really like you."

Eddie heard what he wasn't saying, knew without a doubt that he had to do this right or risk scaring him away from more than just the store.

"I really like you, too, Stevie." Eddie kissed his cheek. "You're in good hands."

"I know."

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Tiny ideas 2

----

1. Danny, in his new and very human black and white vigilante outfit runs past Penguin who had gotten soaked when a car full of hooligans wearing clown masks ran threw a puddle and splashed him.

Danny, not knowing who this was, tapped him on the shoulder as he ran past, running his intangibility through the man and letting the water fall off him, leaving him nice and dry again.

Penguin makes note to pay both back in very different ways.

----

2. Phantom, having been exorcisized from Amity Park and essentially banished and unable to return, roams around the multiverse looking for something to do.

Upon coming across the creepiest doll hes ever seen in a trash bin, he decides to mess with some local bat themed vigilantes and possesses the doll.

His first victim is Red Robin. Danny in all his creepy doll glory toddles out from behind a chimney as his target is running across the rooftop in his direction. Birdy stopped dead (heh) and stared at the doll.

Danny picked good. The doll was porcelain and cracked, missing one of its glass eyes and moss growing out of the empty socket and around various parts of its body. Its dress was once a lovely blue or green velvet but was now patchy and worn.

He turned the dolls head around at an unnatural angle to fix its gaze on the vigilante, its frozen polite smile adding to its eerieness, and in a moment of impulse said, "I'll see you soon." In the most creepiest little girl voice he could manage, using his ghost powers to make the words seem to drift upon the air towards the hero.

And just like that, doll Danny was gone.

RR almost frantically contacted oracle, "Did you see that?!"

"RR your signal cut out for a few minutes, backup should arrive soon. What happened?"

-----

3. Jason has been getting followed around by this wierd kid who is prime Brucie adoption bait. Kid kept jumping out of nowhere without anyone being able to sense him to ask him the weirdest questions (Damian was so startled that he nearly stabbed the kid on reflex. Not that he'd ever admit it).

The questions where things like, "Do you like books? What are your favorites? Can you cook? Do you like red heads? Do you like dogs? How opposed are you to having supervillian in-laws? What if they give you free experimental weaponry? ....how about some laser cannons and a jet?

Jason ends up getting kidnapped by this kid and dumped in from of this pretty girl as the kid tells her, "I went out and got you a boyfriend who won't try to murder you. Don't screw this up!" Before the kid ran out of the room.

Jazz was mortified.

Jason is still on the floor where he was deposited earlier, "So..." he begins, "I heard you like Jane Austin?"

-----

4. Phantom faked his death in front of the people of Amity Park, just to see how they would react to his passing and kind of in hopes of something changing. He couldn't keep sacrificing everything for these people, after all.

He did not like how the people reacted. Danny had to move away cause if he heard one more person say it was a good thing "that monster" died hes going to hurt someone.

Gotham seemed lovely this time of year and its one place that neither his parents or Vlad would visit. Vlad because if he tried anything at all the worlds greatest detective would ruin him and his parents because they once tried to hunt Batman and Robin only for Batman to terrify them to the point of never returning after they hurt his bird.

Danny got hired at Wayne Tech after submitting a wide range of devices but couldn't do much thanks to still being a minor. Thankfully Mr. Wayne was very generous and kept him housed and fed while he finished his online schooling and graduated early.

(Heavy angst for Danny.)

---

5. Danny hadn't seen Cujo in a while, which wasn't too unusual, but it have been a long time since hed seen his puppy and he was overdue a visit.

Danny pulled out his dog whistle, one normally used for emergencies and that Cujo would never ever ignore.

Only...Cujo didn't come. Now Danny goes on a journey to track down his missing dog. Following clues and trails across different realities, dimensions and universes to find his lost dog.

He did not expect to meet a bird themed vigilante along the way, not for them to insist he help him on his quest. Robin seemed very wary of the Infinite Realms the first time he entered them and had tons of questions. But bird boy was great company and Cujo would love him so Danny could deal.

[afozine]

Symbol of Evil: The All for One Anthology

Contributor Applications are now OPEN

From August 16th - August 29th

Rules/Schedule

Writer Application

Artist Application

Beta Reader Application

Please note that you will be ask to choose a section you would like to apply for if you're applying as a writer or artist. It is recommended you choose more than one as spots will be limited in each section. Choosing more than one does not mean you'll be making pieces for all those sections. Think of it like choosing backups just in case you don't get the section you wanted the most.

You can also apply for more than one role! If you have any questions or concerns about the applications please feel free to contact us. How many we accept will depend on how many apply. We want there to be a good ratio of artist to writer.

[hearts4golbach]

could you write something johnnie x reader where the roles are reversed in cuff me?

Yes, Officer.

pairing:

Police Officer!Johnnie Guilbert x Prisoner!Fem!Reader.

a/n:

also based off of this request.

i wanna write more interesting oneshots like this. GUESS WHOS GOING TO GET TO ACTUALLY SEE FALLING IN REVERSE LIVE??? (if youve read the night shift, you know.)

proofread/not proofread

warnings:

slight gun play, guns, blood/violence mention, pet names (sugar, ma, mama, etc,) SMUT 18+, oral sex (M receiving,) spanking, rough sex, semi-public sex, manhandling, unprotected sex, fanfic logic.

word count:

2.0k

your feet slapped against the pavement as you ran as fast as you could. rain patted against the street, a soft sound mixed with your harsh panting. you dipped into the forest, hoping no one would find you there, you needed to rest. your chest burned as you heaved, trying to catch your breath. rocks stabbed into your feet, making them ache and bleed. your white, stained tank top was now wet with sweat, and you could've sworn there was a puddle of it in your neon orange joggers. you began to walk further into the woods, promising yourself no one would be able to find you.

you found a decent place to sit on a log that was covered in dirt, but it was better than the slick grass and mud. you sat there, staring at the ground as you contemplated your options. you needed to get as far away from Los Angeles as possible. but how? you had no money, no car, no jo-

"put your fucking hands up!" a voice yelled from behind you. you whipped around, "if you run, i will shoot you." he added, walking towards you carefully. "you don't want me to call for backup, do you, ms. L/n?"

you stood up slowly, tossing your hands in the air as you turned around. there stood officer Guilbert, his gray camouflage gun pointed directly at your head. he walked towards you slowly. officer Guilbert was your favorite officer form the prison, not to mention, the most attractive. his sunglasses seemed to be glued to his face, seeing as they were on this late at night.

"still won't take off those damn glasses?" you teased. at this point, his gun was pressed into your forehead. the cold metal sent shivers down his spine. he didn't react to your snarky comment. "you wouldn't dare shoot that."

"don't fucking test me, sugar." Sugar was officer Guilbert's pet name for you. he had obviously taken some what of a liking to you, seeing as he hadn't given any of the other girls a nickname of any sorts. a light pink blush glowed on your face, making officer Guilbert smirk. "you wanna tell me what the hell you're doing out here?"

you rested your aching arms on his shoulders, stepping closer to him. " i want to feel free. don't you get it, officer?" he loved when you called him just 'officer,' you knew it for a fact. you knew he was holding eye contact, even though his sunglasses kept you from knowing for sure.

he lowered his gun slightly, dragging it down your cheek and to your chest. he dragged it down further, resulting in him slightly pulling down your tank top to reveal some cleavage. "you know, you're too pretty to be out here all by yourself. I'm sorry, ma. I'm going to need you to turn around and put your hands behind your back."

you groaned, giving him puppy dog eyes before turning around and doing as he told you. "yes, officer." you hummed, trying to weisle your way out of the situation.

he took a pair of cuffs off of his belt and locked them onto you. "why don't you turn back around and get on your knees, sweetheart?"

your heart jumped at his request. you slowly turned to face him before dropping to your knees. dirt clung to your pants and wood chips stabbed into your knees, but you found it extremely hard to care. the pain attributed to the adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Officer Guilbert squatted down, coming face to face with you. "you think i wouldn't hear about your little crush on me? your cell mates don't know how to keep their mouths shut. i know about your fantasies about me, ms. L/n. you wanna tell me what that's all about?" a strong hand gripped your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"well, if you've heard, then i'm sure you already know." you spat, slightly embarrassed.

"you wanna get out of this? use your words, sugar. we can stop any time and i'll take you right back." he teased, a devious smirk plastered on his face. the way he was speaking to you made you throb. you felt arousal pool in your panties. "i have to take you back either way, sweetheart. now is our only time alone, and i plan to use it."

"p-please, officer." you whined, eyes fluttering shut as his calloused thumb ran over your scarred cheek.

"tell me what you want from me, Ms. L/n." he tisked, gripping your chin tighter.

your mouth watered as you noticed the growing bulge in his pants. embarrassment flushed through your body as you spoke, "'wanna suck your dick s'bad, officer Guilbert."

you leaned into his touch, making him smirk. "really?" he replied sarcastically. you chewed your lip and nodded. he pressed a harsh, short kiss to your lips as you melted into his touch. he pulled away and stood up, making you let out a soft moan at the loss of touch. "my pretty girl is just so touch starved, isn't she?"

you watched intently as he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down slowly, revealing the briefs that were restraining his hard cock. your hands strained against the cuffs as you tried to reach out and touch him. "fuck," you whined, looking up at him.

he moved his glasses on top of his head so you could finally see his watercolor eyes. "only good girls get to touch, sugar." yo frowned at his words but didn't protest. "you sure you want to do this?"

you nodded quickly. "yes, yes officer. i want to so fucking bad." you sunk your teeth into your lower lip once more, picking at the shredded skin.

he pulled his boxers down and his dick sprung out. pre cum beaded at the angry red tip. he kept his pants gathered around his mid thigh. you leaned forward, licking from the base of his cock up to his tip. you wrapped your lips around him, making him buck his hips up. you swirled your tongue around his tip, making him groan at the sensation.

"shit," he muttered as you looked up at him with watery eyes. "you're doing s'good. don't worry, sweetheart. i'm gonna get you out of trouble, i was goin' to even before all this." word vomit flowed from his mouth as he watched your every mood.

you hummed against him, making his cock twitch in your mouth. you took him further down your throat. Johnnie choked out a groan. his hand moved to your hair. he grabbed a handful of your hair as he tossed his head back. you bobbed your head faster, rolling your tongue over every detail of his shaft.

"fuck, that's it." you stared at his ink covered skin, admiring his tattoos as you took his cock further into your mouth.

his sensitive tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag around his length. he let out a low whimper, grasping your hair tighter. you couldn't help but smirk, the best you could, at the sounds he was making. "i wish i could break you out of that hell and have you all to myself."

you moaned in response, sending shivers up his spine. he pulled you off of his cock by your hair, the pain making a whimper slip past your lips. his cock was dripping with your spit mixed with his juices. he helped pull you to a standing position. his hand met the area where your jaw meets your neck, gripping it gently as he brought you closer to his face. "you want me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours?"

"fuck me, please." you pleaded, leaning into his touch and kissing his jaw.

he let out a grunt in response. "that's what i thought. so fuckin needy for me, hmm?" his lips crashed against yours as he walked you backwards into the nearest tree. he tasted himself on your tongue, making him groan into your mouth. he kept your hands cuffed as he flipped you around. your face was pressed into the tree as he tugged your baggy sweats down. "you look so fucking good, even in these state ordered tidy widys." he teased, placing a light slap on your ass.

you jumped, giggling as his joke. he kissed along your bare shoulder as he slid your panties down around your ankles to meet your sweats. you arched your back, giving him better access to your wet cunt.

"you're so pretty," he muttered against your skin as he alliance his tip with your wet entrance. he thrusted inside you quickly, causing you to let out a loud moan. "so fucking tight." he grunted, setting a quick face.

he drilled into your pussy, savoring the feeling of you clenching around him. you let out pornographic moans, which amused him and turned him on even further, this was the first time you were being fucked in a year and a half, and he was giving it to you good. his hands gripped the chain of the handcuffs tightly. "fucking shit, officer." you teased the best you could, your. mind fuzzy and cock drunk.

he groaned at the name, pulling the handcuffs so you were up against his chest. he wrapped his freehand around your torso and began to massage your tit. "i'm always staring at you. i love when you wear these white tank tops with no bra, fuck." he said breathlessly. he pinched your pebbled nipple between his finger.

"fuck! 'm so close, officer guilbert. please let-" you cut yourself off with a moan. "please let me cum."

"i got you, mama. let go." his sweet tone was contradictory to his manhandling. he pounded into you relentlessly, his only goal bringing you as well as himself past the edge. "where do you want me?"

"shit, my- my mouth." you panted, your jaw falling open as a loud whimper came out of you. your walls clenched around his cock hard as you came. he helped you ride out your high.

your legs were wobbly as you turned around and dropped to your knees once more. his cock was pulsing, begging for release. you stuck out your tongue, resting his tip on it. you pumped his cock quickly as you looked into his eyes, not breaking eye contact for a second.

he tossed his head back with a loud groan as he came inside of your mouth. you swallowed it all. he looked down  at you with nothing but admiration. his gaze softened. "here, get up."

you did as he instructed. he turned you around and unlocked the handcuffs, taking them off and rubbing your wrists gently. he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder before pulling your underwear and pants back up. you turned around and placed a soft kiss against his lips. he wrapped his arms around you and held you close as you kissed.

you helped him as well, pulling up his pants and buckling them for him. "still can't believe you knew about my crush on you the whole time." you joked, still slightly embarrassed.

Johnnie smiled, pressing one last kiss against your lips. he sighed. "fuck it. go."

you looked at him with a quizzical look. "what?"

"go."

[chloeangelic]

update 3/26/24

Hey, long time no speak! I’m here to quickly inform you all about two things:

1. I have permanently removed all of my writing from here because I’m getting increasingly freaked out by chatbots, tumblr farming content (as if opting out will do anything), and all other creepy and nefarious use of AI to steal writers’ work. Writers and other creators are treated like absolute shit on here and I feel too protective over my own work. A lot of my masterlist also didn't feel representative anymore, and knowing it was all here was making it harder to write. I’ve felt sort of chained to my tumblr account, so for my own psychological wellbeing I just have to cut it off. 

My current writing is on my AO3 and I am regularly updating it there, however a lot of my old stuff has been privated cause I’m not happy with it at this point. I have backups of everything, so if there’s a specific piece of writing you miss and that you can’t find on my AO3/you can’t access AO3, please message me on discord at chloeangelic and I will make it available for download/send you the file! 

2. I will not be returning to this tumblr in any capacity, not now and not in the future. I will not stick around to answer messages either, so if you’re reading this and want to talk, I have logged out permanently, and the only way to get in contact with me is on discord or in my AO3 comment section. I go back and forth on deactivating this account, and it might happen in the future, so be prepared for that possibility. 

In case you didn’t know I left tumblr and you’re feeling like the pikachu meme right now, feel free to read this. 

I hope you’re all having a great year, and I’ll see you on AO3! <3

[cambion-companion]

Saw the piggyback ask and I remembered this scene in fifty shades where Christian is carrying Ana over his shoulder and they pass one of the house employees on the way to the 'playroom'...

And now I'm thinking of Aemond doing that with his wife - not because she's drunk, she was extra bratty (on purpose) so he just slung her over his shoulder and now he's taking her to their chambers to teach her a little lesson🤭

Alicent and Criston Cole appear from around the corner just in time to catch a glimpse of Aemond entering your chambers with you over his shoulder and there's this brief moment where you make eye contact with your mother-in-law who knows full well her son is going to rail you in about two minutes...

Gods be good🤣

hahaha I absolutely adore both of these ideas guys!

Prepare for another drabble!

Aemond x reader | domestic shenanigans | mention of his brothel experience | reader goes a little feral | Aemond has to reign her back | part two? | mild smut nothing explicit | sorry I am a tease for the ending I KNOW

“You looked for Aegon where?”  You closed the book you had been reading, placing it upon your knee, looking up at Aemond’s disheveled appearance.

“The brothel, The Blooming Rose, as it were.”  Aemond removed his cloak, hanging it by the oaken door before turning back to where you sat.  “He took me there when I was thirteen.”  He hesitated. “The…madam recognized me.”

The discomfort in your husband’s voice caused you to rise to your feet, the forgotten book tumbling to the ground. “Was she indeed?”

Aemond’s violet eye looked everywhere but into your face. “She seemed pleased to see me.”

His hands clenched at his sides, you reached forward but he shied away from your touch, turning away, his posture rigid.

“I’ll be back.”  You said, striding with purpose to the door, yanking it open and making your way down the corridor.  

Your blood was boiling, the expression on Aemond’s face had caused your heart to clench.

“Y/N, wait!”  Aemond caught your elbow, spinning you to face him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to have some words with this Madam of the Blooming Rose.”  You pried yourself free of his grip, walking away from him once more.

“No, you’re not.”  Aemond touched your waist as he kept pace with you, watching your fury unfold with something akin to awe.  “You will not put yourself willfully in harm’s way.”

“I am harm and she is in my way.”  With each step, you became angrier, the image of your husband’s fear fresh in your mind’s eye.  

“Wife.” Aemond stopped you once again, his fingers locking securely around your wrist. “Charging into a brothel with the intent to cause chaos is not something I will allow you to do.”

“Allow me?”  You seethed, trying to yank your hand away from his iron grasp. “Just try and stop me!”

You freed yourself, only for Aemond to grab you roughly around your waist, lifting you up and over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

You hit his back with your hands. “Let me down you ruffian!”

“I’m the ruffian?”  Aemond chuckled and your attempts to get down, his hands probing mischievously against your skirts. “You’re the aspiring assassin, storming off to do gods know what with no plan or backup.  Now stay still.”

You did not obey, squirming atop Aemond’s shoulder, causing him to grunt and almost lose his footing more than once as he carried you back down the empty hallway.  He smacked your backside sharply after one particularly strong bout of flailing.

You gasped at the impact, stilling momentarily in your shock. “Did you just-?”

“Yes, and I will do it again if you don’t stop.”  

“How dare you?”

“That’s right, direct your anger towards me instead. The better to keep you safe.”

You ceased your wiggling, hanging loosely over Aemond’s shoulder, your arms dangling down his back.  With a smirk you raised a hand, bringing it down swiftly against Aemond’s backside in retribution. He started, almost dropping you. “You are a feral wildcat, Y/N!”  

“What does that make you?”

“Someone who is going to fuck you thoroughly when we get back to our chambers.”

You gripped the waist of Aemond’s tunic, his long hair tickling your nose as it swayed with his movements.  His words quite distracted you, sending a pool of molten need flooding your abdomen.

“No witty retort?”  You could hear the smirk in Aemond’s low voice as he shifted you more securely into his arms.  

“Give me a moment.”  You growled. “I’m recovering.”

He laughed, a lovely genuine sound.

The two of you had almost made it undetected to your rooms, when the door at the far end of the hallway opened.  Alicent, Cole and Otto strode through it, noticing you almost immediately.  You lowered your head, wishing to disappear as Aemond passed them.  Otto and Cole diligently strode forward, their backs to you, but Alicent turned, following her son’s progress with raised eyebrows.  She made eye contact with you briefly, the flicker of a smile passing over her lips, before looking up to the back of her son’s head. “Don’t forget the welcome dinner we have for the Redwyne’s tonight, Aemond.”

“We won’t, mother.”  

Aemond rounded the corner and into the privacy of your spacious warm chambers, tossing you onto the mattress of the large bed where you bounced several times before he crawled on top of you.  He traced the curves of your face, his fingers trailing a path down along the contours of your neck.  His expression close to reverence as he gazed down at you, a curtain of silver hair framing your face. His exploratory hand ran the length of your body, curling under your skirts and caressing your trembling thighs.  He nibbled a kiss to your parted lips. “Spread your legs for me.”

[maybe-arts]

EMERGENCY COMMISSION OPEN

Okay so I know i've already shared the link on some of Discord servers I'm on, and the only reason I didn't make a proper Tumblr post is because it was at complete ass-o-clock, so doing it now.

I'm in trouble. My phone is lost (probably, stolen, given it was most likely on the bus and I had it in a jacket pocket instead of bag or jeans pocket), and with that I've lost pretty much all means of contact and online connection on the go, since I don't have a backup. I did got a cheap phone meant for calls and restored my SIM, but to get a new one will take time (restored SIM is partially blocked and wont accept any messages from banks, which includes the marketplace to set up split payment). To make matters worse, while I did got my paycheck yesterday, I got less than I usually do since I was on vacation last month, and after paying rent and monthly payment for credit card I am left with. very little to live on till 27th. (Not to mention I haven't paid for internet yet, which would very well leave me completely offline.)

So I'm opening emergency commissions to stay afloat and pay for a new phone later. You can see my price sheet in this post here

The only available method of payment for me is via Boosty here (the page includes instructions on how to pay for your commission)

If you can't afford commissioning me, please at least spread the word. That would mean a world to me.

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

May I ask you to do slashers ( Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Sinclair brothers.) With s/o that has a little black kitten that is really sweet and cuddly ❤️. I'm sorry for bad English it's not my first language 😅

It's been 7 weeks 15+ months and three days

I'm sorry anon but this just turned out with the slashers with a black kitten, i didn't include much reader I'm so sorry 😭

S/O has black cuddly kitten!

Featuring: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt and sinclair brothers!

Michael Myers 🔪

Michael Obviously wasn't a big fan of it at first. He doesn't mind the cat itself. No he thought it was cute, the black fur made it look mysterious and cool but it was really affectionate, and he was lowkey worried he will accidentally step on it and kill it by accident and you'll get sad Or angry or whatever those human emotions you'll go through.

He couldn't do anything to it either, he tried to avoid it as much as he could but he could only do so much against a furry creature with a keen sense of smell. And then he had no choice but to accept that a small kitten was playing around his lap and pockets. He immediately grabbed it by its entire body and placed it firmly on the spot next to him when he heard you coming.

Did that stop the kitten? No, it immediately went back to trying to play on his lap.

He sometimes stares at both you and the tiny cat play together. Lifting it up by its armpits and holding the animal close to your face as it licks your nose and you laugh sweetly. Michael decided to have a staring contest with the cat and glare at it later that night,And he lost when your baby started licking his face too.

Now he doesn't have the energy to gaf when your furry child latches itself to michel and sniff and mess with his clothes affectionately. Ig it was a nice backup company when you were gone.

Jason Voorhees 🪓

He doesn't even know how such a small cute animal like that can survive in a place where he lives.

Honestly he was scared of it at first. Similar to Michael he was scared he was gonna accidentally hurt it. And he may or may not have heard of those superstitions of black cats bringing bad luck, he tried his best to avoid it but the sheer power of a kitten's love and beauty is far too much for even a 6'5 huge bulky killing machine to resist.

It started when you went out one day for necessities Jason gets kinda sad and depressed but then your little cutie came and rubbed it's face into Jason's pants, looking for his attention and then bam. You come home to find the both of them running around the campus. (Ur kitten was jumping around and you almost died.)

The cat will soon take after the characteristics of his 'father'. Both are intently looking at you while following you wherever you go and you don't really know what to do. (Insert Jason and a black kitty with it's tail moving slowly from side to side while both are staring at you.)

He definitely likes playing with the musty overcooked puss but gets embarrassed when you find them and if you start teasing him. It's not like you're insulting him but he doesn't want you to view him as someone who is overly soft and maybe "unmanly".

He gets jealous (jealous?) When he sees the both of you together... Without him!? He's stomping towards you guys and then stares at both of you.

Will literally get so angry or panic or maybe both if a victim had discovered either of you. Makes it his goal to turn that person into nothing but chunky messy pieces of bloody meat if it even dares tries contact with you two.

There will be no harm guaranteed with Jason by you and your kitty's side.

Thomas hewitt ⛓️

Fell in love with your baby kitten at first sight, Literally!

He's a busy man but loves spending free time with you and your four legged sweetie even if he's tired. He melts into a blob of hot glue when he's chopping up victims and it climbs from his back to his shoulders and just rests and Or spends the entire time with him.

We all know Thomas is warm, so that hairy coal dusted meow meow will soon eventually fall asleep on Thomas, and it's the most heartwarming and cutest thing when you see the love of your life with your smol ass child on the palm of his hands like a little sushi roll and sleeping peacefully.

You will also commonly find Thomas and the cat together in bed during nighttime, they are best friends now.

He just looks at the cat while it's nuzzling up to him and wonders 'how can such a small thing live?'

We all know hoyt is a bastard and WILL try to mess with your dark choco pussycat but Thomas and Luda mae are in the dark corner with white glowing pupils. (Plus you running towards him straight with a pan.) Your kitty doesn't see anything wrong though, such a sweet one.

He loves how cuddly your cat is, it's the perfect solution when the family starts getting stressed. One little paw on any limb and it'll instantly lighten the mood.

He wishes he can spend more time with you and your newly adopted child but business is business but the time will come where you can all act like one small but big family<3.

Sinclair brothers 🕯

Bo despised it at first. Like really. He already has one mutt to take care of (not rlly) and now there's a fucking cat in the house? He wanted to avoid it as much as possible but the fact it just followed him no matter where he went both annoyed him and flattered him. He decides to sit down and the coca cola flavoured kitten child decides to sit with him too? And have the audacity to lick his clothes??? Well it's not that bad... Still, he picked it up and dropped it where you were and the vantablack, wormhole, monstrous shadow king of the land of darkness turns around and meows at him. Bo quickly left after that. He's a prick sometimes and messes with the kitty like holding it by it's collar but all it does is meow, lick, purr and hug his arm or bury its face into Bo's clothes and what can he even do anyways. After a while he started to not mind, actually loves it. But he will deny to no end if you ask him if he does though. But you saw how he and the cat fell asleep on top of each other one night. And that's more than enough for an answer.

Vincent thinks it's adorable, he's wondered how having a cat would be like for quite a while and safe to say he's not disappointed. It's nice to have a warm fuzzy little thing playing around him when he's painting, it would've been perfect if you were there and leaned against him. He's honestly pretty surprised the poosay actually wants to hang out around him, the place he's in is really warm 24/7 and he doesn't expect an animal to like it. The power of love is indeed strong. Coming to your boyfriend's room and finding him in his bed with your kitten just chilling around is probably hot and cute. Absolutely handles your fluffy ball of black fur child with a loving and gentle care and you often see vincent trying to make Jonesy and the cat get familiar with each other. I can see him getting along pretty well with animals? It's a lottery since your cat likes to get touchy. Likes painting the black fusty and damp blop of flesh, just waving the paintbrush around while your baby tries ro catch it is just *sobs*. black kitties are aesthetic and he knows it. Bro 100% falls in love again when he sees you with the burnt living food, it's in his mind rent free forever now.

Lester loves it, he already has a dog he takes care of and now there's a cat!? Sign him up! It takes a little while getting used to for Lester, having a cat is nothing like having a dog. He's used to the sheer power of a toddler sized pitbull lunging towards him (playfully) but now he has a tea cup sized baby cat that you can crush with 5% of power climbing up his pants? Damn this was better than he expected. He always heard some people say cats are the equivalent of evil and he was prepared for its attacks but now those people are mute to him. He didn't bring the fetus that close to Jonesy because what if she eats it (jonesy wouldn't do that). Honestly lester is just having the time of his life with two dawgs and you find them on all ground after maybe 1 hour sleeping peacefully and you joined them too cause you ain't missing out on something like that. Sometimes he forgets that it's weaker and more fragile than jonesy and uses more strength than needed when playing with the kit, your little baby just thinks it's extra strong love though<3.

[delicatebarness]

good graces: a cry baby story | chapter three

Summary: An anonymous tip is called into the station, after two years will the case finally be solved?

Warning: Violence. Missing Persons. Affairs and Infidelity. Intense Emotional Distress. Interrogation and Suspicion. Potential for Harm.

Word Count: 1221

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A/N: Ooo, our first chapter without Steve. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Cry Baby: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @eaterof-concrete | @am-3-thyst

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan

Steve’s words echoed in your head the next day. You were unable to shake the encounter from your mind. Hills eyes held questions as she took in your shaken appearance. 

“Rough night?” she asked, concern etched into her features and laced in her tone. 

You nodded. “Just more motivation to bring them down,” you replied, your resolve hardening. The memory of your confrontation with Steve played, fueling your determination.

Handing you a file, Hill nodded. “I’ve got something that might help. An anonymous tip came in this morning. Someone wants to meet you at a diner tonight.” 

Taking the file, you flipped through the statement. The details were sparse but intriguing. “Specifics?” 

Hill pointed out the address and time in the statement. “It’s a small place on the outskirts. They sounded nervous, so I’m coming with you.” 

You appreciated the backup. “Good idea,” you shot Hill a small smile. “We can’t take any chances.” Having Hill by your side provided a sense of security as the seriousness of your situation called for extra caution. 

As the day wore on, the anticipation grew. You planned your approach meticulously, considering every possible outcome and rereading the added report to the mountain of information on the Avenger.

~

By the time night fell, the tension was palpable as you and Hill drove to the diner. The small, unassuming place stood out in the desolate outskirts of the city. The neon sign flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance over the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. 

Inside, you felt the eyes of a few patrons on you as you entered. In a corner booth, your contact was already there, her envious demeanor contrasting against the causal setting. Her eyes darted around nervously as you approached. You and Hill slid into the booth across from her.

“Thank you for meeting us,” you said, trying to put her at ease. Offering her a reassuring smile, though your own nerves were on edge. 

“This needs to be quick,” she said, her voice trembling. “He has people everywhere.” 

“We’ll protect you,” Hill promised. “Just tell us what you know.” 

Taking a deep breath, her eyes filled with fear and determination. “My husband went missing about two years ago, and I believe they had something to do with it.” Another glance around the diner, her paranoia evident. 

Hill leaned in, her expression serious. “Who do you mean by ‘they’?” 

“The Avengers,” she whispered, glancing around the surroundings as if expecting one of them to appear. “John… he somehow got involved with them. I found out he was having an affair.” 

Exchanging a puzzled look with Hill, you questioned your contact. “An affair?” 

“Yes,” she continued, her voice shaking. “With the Rogers’ girl. I found out after he went midding. But, I don’t believe it was just an affair; it was something more. And, I think it got him killed.”

“What makes you think that?” Hill asked, urgency laced in her tone. 

“For about a week before he disappeared, John would come home with his face black and blue. He’d make up excuses, for example, falling down the stairs at work,” she pauses, a soft, bitter chuckle escaping her lips. “You know, for someone who was keeping up with a secret affair, he’d learn to lie better.” 

“How did you find out?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

She sighed deeply, her hands trembling as she spoke. “I went to their bar, hoping to find answers… demanding answers. At first, they brushed me off, declaring they knew nothing, but…” 

You and Hill leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. The story enveloped you as you listened intently, and you gave her your full attention.

“I could see in her eyes, it was almost as if she was about to cry,” her voice cracked with emotion as she continued.

“Who? The Rogers’ girl?” you asked.

She nodded. “I could sense that she knew more, so I waited until I knew she was there without them. Only she wasn’t alone; she had the one everyone refers to as the gang's guard dog or something?” 

“James ‘Bucky’ Barnes,” Hill confirmed, adding more clarity to the wife's story. “That’s not surprising, they have been publicly dating for about a year now.” 

The wide paused, her eyes welling up with tears. “I pointed at her, demanding answers once again. He got in between us, repeating that they didn’t know anything, but I was desperate.”

“Did she say anything?” Hill asked with an intense expression. 

“She admitted it,” she continued, her voice breaking. “She said John wasn’t honest with me– that they had been dating. She apologized, explaining that she didn’t know until she found out he disappeared that he was married.” 

“But, why do you think the Avengers are involved with his disappearance, just over an affair?” you asked, trying to understand her reasoning.

“John started coming home with bruises suddenly,” she replied, her tone growing more frantic. “And not just once or twice– they constantly got worse. He was hiding something. And then, he vanished. The timing, the bruises, the guilty look on her face– I can’t imagine it being anyone else.” 

“So,” Hill spoke up, looking thoughtful. “You think him getting involved with the little sister of their head, led to his disappearance?” 

“Yes,” the wife said, her voice firm. “I don’t have proof, but my gut tells me they had something to do with it.” 

Exchanging another look with Hill, you both processed the new information. Steve’s voice echoed in your mind, warning you to stay away from his sister; provoking him again this soon could jeopardize the investigation. 

“We need to tread carefully,” you muttered. “Rogers’ has already warned us about questioning his sister. I’m afraid if we push him too hard, it could backfire.” 

Nodding in agreement, Hill gave you a small reassuring smile. “We’ll have to find another way to get information. Maybe there is someone else in their circle who knows something.” 

The wife’s desperation was clear as she looked between you and Hill. “Please, find out what happened to John. I just want to know the truth.” 

“We will,” you promised, your voice steady and firm. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, no matter what it takes.” 

Stepping out of the diner, the cool, damp night air felt like a welcome relief from the oppressive tension inside. The intermittent flicker of the neon sign seemed to reflect the uncertainty swirling in your mind. Exchanging a final, meaningful look with Hill, you headed to your car. 

“I think we should call it a night,” you said, your voice carried notes of fatigue. “We’ve got a lot to process, and it might be best to get some rest and think it over.” Hill nodded in agreement. 

Each streetlamp cast fleeting glimmers of light across the windshield, punctuating the silence of the drive home. Once at your apartment, you went through your evening routine with a mechanical detachment. Settling into bed, the weight of the wife’s story pressed heavily on your mind. 

You need this time to absorb the details, sort through the implications, and plan your next steps carefully. Your thoughts were a tangled web of suspicion, concern, and the looming challenge of finding out the truth behind John Walker’s disappearance. And, possibly Steve Rogers and the Avengers’ involvement.

---

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[lazycats-stuff]

Hi! If this makes you uncomfortable writing, you can choose to ignore it. I was hoping you could do male!reader, who was on patrol and the reader is kidnapped by a villain, and once the batfamily find them its to late and they were brainwashed and was now under control of a villain. (Bonus points if the villain, is actually their biological father who trained them to be a weapon before the reader got saved by the batfamily)

Once they like have a fight and the batfam knock ‘em out they bring him to the cave and try to bring his memories back. It takes a while to get his memory back since the reader is not trusting them and doesn’t talk to them because they were brainwashed to think the batfamily is bad but after a while something happens and their mind snaps and they’re back to normal and they get all emotional because they hurt their true family??

No problem. Also, I got the exact same request like this, but with gn!reader. I will do write this in male!reader and if there is somebody who is interested I will make a gn!reader version.

Summary: (Y/N) thought that he got away from his father who trained him to be a weapon. He thought wrong.

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, mentions of torture

(Y/N) didn't have a good feeling about this night. Bruce and (Y/N) were in the Batmobile, with Bruce driving. The others were somewhere in the city, stopping crimes or just closing cases they had.

" You okay (Y/N)? " Bruce asked, making a turn to the left.

" I'm not sure. I have a bad feeling? I don't know how to describe it to be honest. " (Y/N) said, knowing how Bruce always said trust your gut.

" Well, I wouldn't worry that much. Everything is going to be fine. " Bruce said, trying to ease (Y/N). He knew that (Y/N) was trained to be on alert all the times, even when sleeping.

" Okay. " (Y/N) said. He tried to relax, but it was difficult. His entire body was on alert.

His gut feeling turned out right. The Batmobile all of a sudden went flying from the back and it was flipped upside down. Both (Y/N) and Bruce were caught completely off guard. Both of them were stuck like that, upside down. Bruce pressed a few buttons and car was flipped over back to normal.

(Y/N) was kind of disoriented. Bruce looked at him for a second before he got out. (Y/N) followed, wanting to know what the hell hit them. (Y/N) froze when he saw who it was.

It was Deathstroke. His father.

" Hello son. " Deathstroke said and (Y/N) got flashbacks to his brutal training. Batman stood in front of (Y/N) pushing him back.

" Go. I will handle him. " Bruce said to (Y/N).

" I don't think so. " Deathstroke said and they were surrounded by assassins. (Y/N) saw Lady Shiva. Oh God. This was planned.

" Well detective, I would call for backup. " Deathstroke said, taking his blade out.

(Y/N) took a deep breath. Why was Deathstroke here? Why couldn't he let him go to live his life?

" Why are you doing this Deathstroke? " Batman asked, getting ready to fight. They couldn't escape the fight.

" I just want my son back. "

" So you can put him through hell again? Not happening. (V/N), go! " Bruce said to (Y/N) who ran.

" Do you really think that I won't be able to find him? " Deathstroke said and Batman started making his way through the other assassins. He was trying to get to Deathstroke, but there was too many assassins and he had to deal with Lady Shiva, he could only hope that (Y/N) would be able to contact his brothers for back up.

He is going to be tied up here for a while.

(Y/N) ran. He called his brothers and quickly briefed them. They were on their way, but knowing his father he is going to take him at the last moment, just when (Y/N) is within their reach.

He stopped when Deathstroke somehow jumped in front of him. (Y/N) froze once more. he couldn't go back with him. He couldn't go through that hell.

He was just getting free.

" Hello son. It's been a while. "

" Don't call me son. You don't have the right. " (Y/N) gritted out through his teeth.

" Well, we share blood and DNA. That makes me your father. And whatever Batman told you, you are not his son nor their brother. " Deathstroke said, taking out his blade.

(Y/N) looked around. Nowhere to go and nowhere to run. Then it's time to run. Let's go then.

Deathstroke charged at (Y/N), making (Y/N) sidestep a bit and block the blade with his gauntlet. He wasn't going to be taken without a fight.

Deathstroke and (Y/N) went on it for a long while. (Y/N) was good at holding his own, but Deathstroke was the one who trained him. Deathstroke knew his weak spots and all of his skills.

And that's why (Y/N) was down on the ground, Deathstroke's weight keeping him down. He tried to buck him off, but he couldn't. His eyes widened when he saw a syringe in his hand. Nope. Absolutely not.

" Good night son. "

(Y/N)'s eyes were closing as Deathstroke injected whatever was in the syringe. The last thing (Y/N) saw was Deathstroke's good eye and it was obvious that he smirking beneath his mask.

Bruce and the others knew that (Y/N) was taken by Deathstroke. It was obvious that it was planned in advance. Damian was the one to see Deathstroke knock out (Y/N), but two assassins got in the way of saving him. It was nothing more than psychological warfare.

Bruce was not going to have it. He called in his friends from the Justice League. If he wants to find (Y/N), he will need every single resource he can get his hands on.

The house was quieter too. Nobody was really happy and everything was just... Gloomy.

One day Superman came down to the cave, just to check on Bruce. He knew that he loved his children and they would always come first to him. No matter what.

" How are you holding up Bruce? " Clark asked as he stood next to the chair Bruce was sitting in, eyes looking at the screen that was full of different stuff.

" I'm fine. I just worry about (Y/N). You have no idea what he has been through and... My God. " Bruce said, rubbing his eyes.

" How bad was it? " Clark asked, looking down at Bruce.

" Imagine you don't know anything else but being a weapon. Your opinions don't matter, your needs don't matter. The only thing that matters is the mission. And imagine you get adopted by a man who is your enemy. "

Clark looked away for a moment. " My God. My poor nephew. "

" I know. And now I worry about what Deathstroke is doing to him. "

" I know. We still don't know the location of the base. " Superman said, rubbing the side of his neck covered by his suit.

" It's been a month Clark. I know (Y/N) is resilient mentally speaking, but Deathstroke can easily break him. He can put him back together and break him if he ever so pleased. " Bruce said, pushing his hair back.

" Don't worry. We will find him Bruce. " Clark said, patting his shoulder.

" I know. I'm just worried about the damage that will be done. How didn't I see this coming? " Bruce questioned himself, sighing.

" You need to sleep Bruce. "

" I can't. I need to find (Y/N) and need to patrol. "

" Wonder Woman and I can take over the patrol. You and the boys are going to rest for the night. " Superman said, moving the chair to get Bruce out of the chair.

" Clark, don't make use the Kryptonite. " Bruce threatened, but Superman rolled his eyes. There was no malice in Bruce's voice.

Two more months and they located Deathstroke's base. They also had conformation that (Y/N) was there. Bruce had to mentally prepare himself for whatever state (Y/N) was in. Bruce had some hope that (Y/N) hadn't been broken.

Bruce also told his sons that too. (Y/N) could be broken or somewhat the same. The Justice League was there as back up too. Bruce didn't know how to feel as they were approaching the base. His sons were more hopeful and positive about it.

They had a plan and they were going in, determined to find their brother and son. The base was huge and empty. It was eerie. After a while of searching, they found Deathstroke and (Y/N). Bruce's heart clenched at the sight.

It was (Y/N)'s old suit, the one he burned when he got adopted. Bruce took a deep breath.

Bruce refused to listen to Deathstroke and he striked. The boys followed and a fight ensued. Batman went right after Deathstroke, ready to unleash his fury at him. The other fought with (Y/N).

They didn't recognize him. Cold, dead eyes and no recognition. They were going to maim Deathstroke.

After they got Deathstroke into custody and Bruce maimed him for everything he done to (Y/N), they went back to the manor. Although, (Y/N) had to be knocked out in order to be brought back.

Bruce could tell that (Y/N) was brainwashed and tortured. He guessed it was water torture, electrical too... He sighed as he took his cowl off. He was just like when they first met.

Now it was going to take a lot of patience and talking. Jason was going to kill Deathstroke.

" B, I'm going to kill Slade. " Jason said out of earshot.

" Don't worry, I maimed him. " Bruce assured him. Everyone looked at (Y/N) who was in a cell.

" We have to make sure he remembers. Patience is key. "

It's been a month and (Y/N) still doesn't want to talk with them. They have all been trying their best, Superman and Wonder Woman tried to. Absolutely nothing.

Bruce talked to (Y/N) everyday, even showed him some videos. No reaction. Cold, dead, soulless and calculating just looking into Bruce's blue eyes.

Dick was really trying. His strategy was chatting until his own ears started bleeding.

Tim, Jason and Damian are going trying to get him to remember by talking about cases they have solved together. They tried to bribe him with his favorite foods. The ones he could eat for a long time without ever hating them.

Nothing.

It wasn't until a week later that something happened. They were all in the cave, trying their best to be normal. Damian noticed first. (Y/N) looked conflicted, not cold and calculating. He didn't say anything as he watched in silence.

" Dad! "

Everyone turned their heads, Bruce nearly got whiplash. He never heard (Y/N) get so emotional. And he never called him dad. Bruce ran towards the cell. He unlocked it and (Y/N) ran into Bruce's arms. He sobbed and held him tightly.

" I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you guys! I'm so sorry! " He sobbed into Bruce's chest.

(Y/N) was back. They were going to bounce back from this. They would help him.

They stick together and they fight together. They were going to help (Y/N) with his fight.

[jawspinner96]

Arthur morgan x fem reader smut

This is very lazily written, I was struck with inspiration and wrote this in one night, so no nitpicking!!! Pls ignore any typos or sentences that sound a little off. This is also my first time posing smut so !!!

*******

You had an easy job, it wasn't fun but the money was pretty good. All you had to do was offer "Deluxe baths" to strangers. It wasn't the career you drempt of as a child, but a couple months ago you were desperate for work and the hotel owner was nice enough to give you this job, not only is it good pay but you also got a free room out of it.

You've encountered your fair share of creeps during your time here, but the hotel owner proved to be good backup.

"Just hollar if you need my help ma'am,"

And he was always there to save you if need be. However, it wasn't often people accepted so a lot of your job was spent lazing about or cleaning.

This day was like any other, business was slow and you were sat in the lobby of the hotel, reading. The door swung open and the bell rung out which caught your attention. You looked up from your book and fixed your eyes on a tall, rugged man, around six foot-ish. His features were hidden behind a weathered had and short untidy beard.

"Ma'am." The man nodded your way and walked up to the front desk.

"Sir." You nodded back and Continued reading, peaking over the pages to look at the man's figure from behind. His unbuttoned shirt paired with a leather vest accentuated his waist and drew your eyes to his large arms. You felt your face grow warmer the longer you stared.

"Let me get a bath, and a room for the night." His voice was deep and husky, yet it flowed smoothly and sounded like music to your ears.

"Alright sir, I've got someone heating the bath up for you right now. That'll be a dollar fifty"

You watched the man make his way upstairs towards the bathroom before closing your book and heading to your own room to prepare. You applied lipstick, cleaned up your eyeliner and sorted your hair.

"Want some company mister ?" You knocked lightly on the door and waited for his response. You weren't expecting him to accept your proposal so you were shocked to hear him accept. You became rather nervous and unsure as to why you were suddenly so scared. You had done this many times before but something about this man was intimidating.

Slowly, you opened the door and made your way in. A faint smell of lavender filled the humid room and hot steam, highlighted by the rays of sun peeking through the foggy window, danced freely throughout the air.

He had his arms resting on each side of the tub, and his eyes closed, which made you feel slightly more at ease. You sat on a stool next to the bath, by his head and began to talk.

"You look like you've had a long day," you purposely kept your voice hushed and soft.

"You have no idea." He smiled contently as you wet your hands and began to scrub his scalp tenderly.

"Well... nothin a hot bath can't fix." His hair was rough in your palms and you could feel the weeks of dirt clinging to each strand. Despite this, the man didn't smell at all, Infact a rather pleasant, musky aroma emitted from his body.

You began to let your hands wander, settling on his shoulders. You palmed his skin attempting to soothe the spots you thought might be most sore. He leaned his head back, letting out a long, pleased sigh. You could feel him becoming less tense from your touch and smiled a little to yourself, proud of your work.

"Damn, that feels good," He muttered under his breath as you began to massage his arms. You marvled at the feeling of his large biceps under your fingers. "I don't remember the last time I was this relaxed."

"If you don't mind me asking, what is it that you do out there?"

He opened and eye and looked right at you. For a moment you were nervous, did you ask something offensive? However, you were far too flustered by his heavy eye contact to care.

"That's something I prefer to keep to myself ma'am." You apologised and Continued to wash the stranger.

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you reached further into the water to scrub his abdomen, then his legs. You looked up from the water for a second, you almost had a heart attack as your eyes met with his. He watched intently, as you massaged his calves and rinsed the bubbles from his leg. Both of your faces were flushed from the heat, and the tension that filled the air.

"I reckon that's clean enough ma'am," He lightly grabbed your hand and held it in between his own, "Thank you very much."

His eyes stared right through your own and you felt your cheeks burning up, though you couldnt really read his expression.

"You're very welcome Mr...."

"Morgan, Arthur morgan."

You beamed a smile "Well, you're very welcome Mr Morgan."

Swiftly, you exited the room with your heart thumping in your chest and butterflies swirling in your stomach.

As you headed back to your room you couldn't shake the image of his face from your mind. His tired, squinting eyes, soft lips. His brows were bushy and unkempt along with his beard, however the scruffy and tired appearance only added to his charm. You weren't sure you'd ever seen someone so handsome before. His nose was crooked but fit so harmoniously on his face along with all his other features.

You recalled what his skin felt like against yours as you sat on your window sil and day dreamed of his muscular frame and chestnut hair.

*******

"Can I interest you in some tea?" Another part of your job was to ensure the happiness of paying customers and to provide the best service you could.

This meant going round and offering tea to those who were staying the night, sometimes you provided them with dinner if you were feeling generous enough to cook a big batch of food that day.

"Sure, come in." Instantly, you recognised the voice coming from the other side of the door. You heart picked up it's pace as you fumbled with the door knob, all while keeping an eye on your tray of tea.

You entered the room to see Arthur sat on the bed, the setting sun resting perfectly on his face. His hat from before was no where to be seen allowing you to see all his features. Messy strands of hair lay perfectly on his face, framing his eyes and Chisled jaw. You couldn't help but admire the sight, a slight blush forming on your cheeks.

"Here ya'are Mr Morgan," You placed a cup of tea on the side table and put the now empty tray under your arm.

"Call me Arthur." He smiled at you as he took a sip of the hot beverage, "I was hopin I'd see you again ma'am."

"Is that right?" A smirk creeped upon your face and you felt those Butterflies from before beginning to awake in your stomach. You playfully responded, "Well i'm glad you enjoyed My services so much Mr Mo- Arthur."

A laugh escaped his nose and he looked down to take another sip of tea.

"Well, I'll be on my way now. Hollar at me if you need anythin'." Nervously, You turned on your heel and made your way to the door before Arthur spoke up again.

"Wait," you stopped in your tracks and turned to face Arthur who was now making his way towards you. The speed of your heart rate picked you thought it'd jump out of your chest and ran away if it could.

Arthur stopped, just meer centimetres away. He towered over you causing a confusing mixture of emotions, your head was spinning.

His eyes scanned your face, your quivering lips and eyes, which darted frantically around the room, avoiding any sort of eye contact. You swallowed as his eyes wandered to your lips. His mouth parted slightly and his breath grew heavier before he began to speak again.

"Am i scaring you, miss?" His voice seemed sweet, filled with concern though you couldn't help but notice sinister undertone in the way he spoke.

You plucked up the courage to look him in his eye before responding, "No.."

You were unsure of your own answer amd he could tell. He smiled slightly at that, hesitantly rasing a hand to your chin, "Would you mind if I.."

His lips parted further as they searched for your own, your eyes fluttering shut as you both made contact. His free hand snaked around your waist as you reached up around his neck, causing you to drop the tea tray on the floor.

He pulled away for a second, gazing into your eyes as his hand held the side of your cheek. Your heart pounded, and you longed to kiss him again. How was this stranger making you feel this way?

You brought him back in for another kiss, this time you were hungry for it and he was too. You moved together rhythmically and passionately. Your bodies backed up aggressively against the bedroom door, slamming it shut.

A gasp left your mouth, as he removed your hands from his neck and pinned them both at either side of your head against the door. The sudden movement made you knees grow weeker and you felt yourself buckling underneath him.

He was strong, you couldn't escape his grip if you tried, not that you wanted to. He raised both your arms above your head and held your wrists in place with one hand.

His free hand began to explore your body, cupping a breast through your blouse. You could feel the smirk on his lips as a slight moan left your mouth.

His hand travelled further down, to your skirt, and he began to lift up the fabric to reach your thigh from underneath.

You could already feel yourself becoming increasingly wetter, and the sensation of his rough palms groping your skin made you only more aroused. His fingers moved further up to your panties and he began to tease your clit through your soaked underwear, forcing a pathetic whine from your lips.

"Damn girl," He laughed a husky laugh mockingly "I've bearly touched you."

Your cunt ached as you squeezed your legs together while he continued to play with your clit, using his thumb to rub painfully slow circles around it.

"F-fuck..." You found yourself unable to say anything in response only growing weaker to his touch.

His fingers hooked against your underwear and slowly he began to pull them down your legs, while he brought your mouth to his for another kiss, his tongue intertwining with yours.

His hand palmed your pussy while the other continued to hold you in place. You squirmed as he slid two fingers into your cunt and began to slowly pump them in and out of you.

Lewd noises filled the room as he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers. Eventually, he let go of your wrists, causing you to collapse against his chest while he continued to play with your cunt. He rested his free hand On the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

You moans grew louder as you found yourself closer to climax. He stopped moving abruptly, which made you cry out a little. He chuckled slightly as you began to grind against his fingers, desperately needing to cum.

"Easy girl..." You buried your head in his chest as he once again began to move his fingers in that same rhythm that had brought you so close to orgasm before.

You eyes rolled back and you squeezed your hands into fists against his body, unsure of what to do with yourself as he continued to pump in and out of you mercilessly.

Eventually the coil in your stomach snapped and you found yourself spasming around his fingers. Your legs shook as you came into the palm of his hand, your vision went white and all comprehansive thoughts in your head had vanished. You moaned his name, loudly, sqeezing your eyes shut as he guided you through your orgasm. He removed his hand from under you skirt and let go of you, causing you you to collapse on the ground.

"Damn, your pathetic," He laughed at your feeble position and you had never felt so vulnerable, humiliated or turned on. "Don't worry girl, we ain't finished."

You panted on the floor as he stood over you. You couldn't believe what had just happened. Arthur had seemed so sweet before, but now it seemed he was getting off on your neediness.

You looked up and watched as he began to unzip his pants and pull out his cock. The size made you a little nervous but you could already feel yourself getting wetter by the second. You rose on your knees and looked up at Arthur. With both hands you grabbed the base of his dick and parted your lips. Your tongue swirled around the tip and you could already taste the precum dripping from him.

"Atta girl," arthur praised your eagerness as you began to move your hands rhythmically up and down his shaft, your tongue focusing on the most sensitive areas.

A satisfied groan left Arthur's mouth as you took him deeper into your mouth. You could feel the veins that ran along his length as your tongue glided along his skin.

You looked up at his face, watching it contort in pleasure. You watched as his mouth hung open, heavy breaths and cuss words escaping from his lips. His brows furrowed when he grew impatient and his hands found their way to the back of your head, gripping strands of hair and shoving his cock deeper down your throat, making you gag.

Quickly, and uncaring of how you felt, Arthur continued to use your throat as a his personal fuck toy. His dick twitched as you choked on his size and struggled to cope with his harsh thrusts.

"Fuck.." Arthur let a low growl as thrusted himself deeply in your mouth one last time. Thick spurts of semen dripped down your throat and from the corners of your mouth. He removed his cock from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip. With one hand he wiped the cum from your lips and with the other he pulled back you head, forcing you to look at him. "How'd that taste girl?"

You found yourself unable to respond, you weren't to sure what you were even supposed to say. Arthur zipped up his trousers and crouched to your level, taking your chin in-between his index and thumb. You marvled at his reddend cheeks and the sweat that glistend on his forehead, unable to think clearly.

Your lips remained parted as you stared at him. Your cunt ached for him, begging to be filled.

"You look so desperate," he teased. You swallowed your shame and averted your gaze from his.

You could feel yourself becoming wetter just from his words and began leaning in closer, a desperate attempt to beg for more all while your lips were sealed.

"Guess that's too bad," He let go of you abruptly and stood up leading you to awkwardly do the same.

"W-wait.." all you could muster up was a weak stutter. You were honestly offended but weren't sure if you could be. You didnt know this man and he didnt know you. Something that should be intimate wasn't intimate at all. Sure, you'd given him a bath but that was paid for and professional. This? This was no where near the same thing. "I-is that it?"

Arthur laughed. "What? You ain't had enough yet?"

The disappointment was more that noticable on your face. Arthur didn't say anything else, just laughed. He leaned close and reached behind you, opening the door to the hallway.

"Sorry girl, don't wanna overstay your welcome."

And as quickly as you entered, you had been shooed out. Without your tea tray. Your mind was running and you couldn't think, all you could do was make your way back to your room in a daze.

Your hair was a mess and your skin was reddened; still glistening with sweat. you lay on your bed, frustrated. Why didn't you go back and demand him to get the fuck out? Or at least ask for your tray back? Why did you even let him use your body like that in the first place?

Shame washed over you, you were unable to sleep that night. You couldn't help but wonder if he had gone all the way with you, you wouldn't be as pissed off as you were. A small part of you wanted to see him again.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.10

Summary: Coming back from winter break, Wednesday gets a surprise gift and decides to take her frustrating emotions out on whoever she can find. For better or worse, that opponent happens to be you.

Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: swearing, slight violence (fencing) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @n0p35 @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @asters-abditory @alexkolax @thenextdawn-backup @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr

Wednesday had not missed you.

Once coming back from break and seeing you wreaking havoc in school once again, Wednesday realised she had only truly missed the idea of you. Within one week you had managed to get weekend detention, nearly poisoned yourself in phyto, and set fire to the lab in chemistry. How on earth you managed to do all of those things in such a short span of time, she had no idea.

She was almost impressed.

Her novel was coming along effortlessly when you came into the room with Enid. Your wings, though tucked in tightly, were finally free of their harness. It was an oddity to see them out and about nowadays. Clearly you had been having a good time; you only ever let them out when you were in a positive mood.

“I still blame you for the fire,” you said, pointing your finger at Wednesday as you went to lay on her bed. She tried not to flinch when your wings nearly knocked things off her desk in the process.

“I am not to blame for your inability to mix chemicals.” Wednesday’s fingers had yet to still on the typewriter, no matter how closely you watched her.

She could feel your eyes on her as you started talking some sort of nonsense with Enid. Admittedly (only to herself) she was entirely focused on you in her peripheral. There had truthfully been no time to genuinely see you since school had started back up; it was like seeing you again for the first time.

Your hair was getting shaggy and you had noticeable bags under your eyes. Had you slept well over the break? You hadn’t told her about any problems - why would you? - but you looked thoroughly exhausted. There was a droop to your wings that gave away what your words wouldn’t.

All of Wednesday’s thoughts came to a halt when you looked at her and she made eye contact with you. Eye contact was something Wednesday was phenomenal with, she could hold it for hours at a time. But when she met your eyes, she felt frozen. She assumed it was how prey felt when it was being stared down by a predator. Unable to move or look away.

“Ooh, time for my date with Yoko and Divina!” Enid cheered, causing both you and Wednesday to jump. Well, you jumped, Wednesday just turned quickly to where Enid was gathering her things.

“Where are you going?” You asked; Wednesday just went back to writing her novel.

“Behind the greenhouse.” Enid sent you a quick wink that brought a smile to your face. It made Wednesday nauseous.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you told her as she left the room with a quick “bye!”

Just like that, Wednesday was left alone with you for the first time since she had helped you pack for the break. For the first time since you had been brave enough to kiss her on the cheek. Just the thought alone had her mouth going dry and her thoughts tumbling over themselves. She wanted to lean over and return the favour.

No. She had clearly spent too much time with her father over the break.

“So.” Wednesday’s fingers halted on the keys. “Last week was the 13th.”

“What of it?” Wednesday asked. But she knew what; she hoped you wouldn’t go there.

“I heard through the grapevine that the 13th is someone’s birthday,” you continued.

Wednesday had been determined not to look at you, but after hearing the ruffling and moving of your entire body on the bed, she couldn’t stop herself. Her chair spun around and she was faced with you, standing in front of her with a single wrapped package in your hands. It was simple black paper and almost looked like it had been wrapped by children.

Knowing you, it probably had been.

“I know you don’t really do birthdays,” you said as you held the package out a little further. “So consider it my late Christmas gift.”

Her eyes stayed on the package in your hands, doing her best not to look up at your face. There was the slightest shake in your fingers, something Wednesday had come to notice when you were nervous. While Enid rambled nonstop, your fingers and hands shook and you would give a nervous, crooked grin.

Your half-grin turned real when Wednesday took the package from you. It was a familiar weight, but she couldn’t place it. Almost like it was on the tip of her tongue. Her own fingers slid under the edge of the paper and pulled it open, careful as always. You took the paper from her and started folding it - when had you picked up on that habit of hers? - as she studied the gift.

It was a black leatherbound book. There was no title on the front, but a silver viper had been painted with a single golden vial within its coiled tail. When she looked at the spine, the words “Viper de la Muerte” had been delicately carved into it with the initial “W.A.” directly below. Her eyes shot up to where you were toying with the paper still in your hands.

“I copied your first manuscript and had my grandpa and Pop teach me how to bind it,” you said as you kept your eyes glued to the floor. “Alex and Hailey actually painted the front.”

Wednesday’s fingers traced over the painted cover, marveling at the details. Of course it had been painted by children, but it was still an adequate portrayal. She hadn’t met your siblings yet, but she could very well guess who had drawn what part. The delicate details of the viper and the rough lines of the vial gave it all away.

“I didn’t read it, though,” you said once Wednesday opened the front cover. “I’m a thief, not a prick.”

Her thoughts were running rampant as you continued to ramble on, your words going in one ear and out the other. A single piece of paper was slipped into the book, and as Wednesday looked at all the signatures and notes and well-wishes, she started to think.

How had you even gotten her manuscript in the first place? She kept it hidden, she wasn’t even completely convinced she had brought it to Nevermore with her. Then there was the part where you had bound the novel with stained leather. Was your family terribly adept at this type of thing? Book binding was an old world skill that most didn’t have.

“-so it was a team effort.” With a loud exhale, you finally stopped talking.

Wednesday had completely forgotten to pay you any attention as you had rambled on and on. The smallest amount of guilt settled in her throat, but she pushed it down. Nervousness had made its home on your face and you had yet to evict it. Has anyone ever told you the way the corners of your eyes squinted was rather attractive?

“You don’t have to like it,” you said. Why were you being defensive? “I just remember you saying editors can be assholes so now you have a bound book without them.”

She ran her fingers down the spine of the novel one last time before setting it down on the desk behind her. If you had attempted to quell the fear on your face, you had failed miserably. It only continued to grow when she stood up and walked closer to you. The fingers of her hand grabbed your tie and wrapped it around her palm; they were so close to your neck that she could feel you swallow.

It took only the slightest effort to pull you down until your face was level with hers. Being so close forced you to actually make eye contact with her. The proximity nearly made Wednesday change her mind; your face was far too close to hers. If she focused, she could see the slightest tremble in your bottom lip.

Before she could convince herself to let you go, Wednesday pulled you forward the rest of the way until she could leave a single peck on the corner of your mouth. Her own heart was pounding in her ears at how close to your lips she was, but it was too late to back out. Your entire body stiffened under her and she could feel your pulse racing under her knuckles.

Something buried deep in the back of her mind told her to move just a little further, your lips were only millimeters away. Just make the move, do what her inner turmoil has been begging her to do. But she bit her tongue and pulled away, releasing your tie and smoothing it back down before stepping back once again.

Your face was flushed. As was your neck. And your chest. And every other visible part of skin.

“Touch my manuscripts again, and detention will be the least of your worries.”

She didn’t give you any chance to defend yourself; she just sat back down in her chair and returned to her typewriter.

It was at least 10 minutes before she heard you move and finally leave the room.

—---

Fencing class. One of Wednesday’s favourite classes, if she was being brutally honest with herself. She couldn’t be entirely sure what it was about it that made it so appealing to her. Maybe it was the violence of the whole class, or the potential to best opponents and see the hope in their eyes disappear as they threw their helmets to the ground.

Or maybe it was simpler than that, and she just missed fencing with her father.

Today, though, she was on a mission. Since you had gifted her the bound manuscript a few days ago, she had been nothing but an emotional wreck inside. She had put it on her desk right beside her current works, but every time she looked at it she felt her pulse increase. When she would grab it to study it, her hands would shake ever so slightly. Every time she would look at the page with everyone’s signatures, her throat would feel tight and it became hard to swallow.

That didn’t even take into account the way her mouth went dry whenever she thought of how warm your skin had been underneath her lips. How soft your neck was against her knuckles, how all it would have taken was one brush of her fingers and you would have shivered beneath her touch. How her stomach twisted and turned at the thought that you were completely at her mercy when all she did was pull you down by your tie.

It was an unusual, uncomfortable feeling. To know that her entire day could be derailed because of something someone else had done. Other people’s actions rarely, if ever, influenced her feelings, her day, her thoughts. But there you were, there your family was, doing something that left Wednesday at a loss for thoughts.

She didn’t know what sick game you were playing, but she wanted to be around you all the time. On days where she could only see you during meals, or during classes, a rock settled in the pit of her stomach and made her feel ill. Or days where she didn’t see you at all, and her thoughts became jumbled or her reflexes turned jittery.

Whatever you had done to her, she was going to put a stop to it.

Luckily for her, that opportunity arose during fencing class. It was possible you had just gotten moved into the class; she hadn’t seen you in there before. You looked uncomfortable in the outfit, and you weren’t even wearing the jacket, just your uniform shirt and your harness. It was almost-

-no. She was here to make you pay, not fawn over you.

Wednesday did her best to ignore you as she walked over to one of the mats. You were leaning against the wall and talking with Divina, Yoko, and Bianca, your arms crossed over your chest. Were you attempting to sit out the whole class? That would be ridiculous, a waste of your time and everyone else’s.

Wait. She had an idea.

“Coach Vlad.” Wednesday finished walking until she stood right in front of him, her mask under her arm. “I request Y/N as my opponent.”

Coach Vlad sighed, but nodded once.

“Y/N!” You looked up at them with your sinfully innocent, closed-mouth smile. “You’re with Addams.”

The way your face dropped was almost comical. Yoko and Divina turned to hide their smiles even though their laughter was easily heard. Through her own smile, Bianca patted you on the shoulder and told you something that made you roll your eyes and sigh. Nonetheless, you stood up straight and walked over to where Wednesday was waiting. Just the sight of you walking closer had her palms sweaty.

Oh, she was going to make you suffer.

“Your saber,” Coach Vlad said, holding the piece out for you to take. “You remember your stance?”

“I remember a stance,” you sighed.

“Just do your best.” He didn’t sound too convinced in your ability to do so.

“She’s going to hurt me,” you mumbled, but you pulled the mask down over your face and stood ready.

Your stance truly was terrible, whoever had instructed you needed a refresher of their own. It was like the saber was nothing but an added weight to your arm instead of an extension. The positioning of your feet left you open to tripping or, terrifyingly, breaking a knee. She pulled her own helmet down to hide her smile.

This was going to be fun.

She lunged, and you reacted exactly how she had anticipated; with a sporadic deflect and a step back. There was a hesitation before her next move, making sure you were going to behave how she believed, and she moved forward again. Right there, you stepped back out of reach again. You were immediately on the defensive.

It took only three more moves before her saber caught you in the chest. One point, she thought as you visibly sighed and stood up straight. Coach Vlad put you both back into the starting position, and you stood with a bit more determination. She started again, and you managed to get one decent offensive combination in before Wednesday caught you again, flipping your helmet off your face.

“Holy shit,” you whispered as you turned around to find it; it was on the other side of the mat.

The flush to your cheeks caught Wednesday’s attention before her eyes were drawn to the sheen of sweat on your skin. Strands of hair stuck to your forehead and she had to fight the urge to step forward and push it back. Her fingers twitched at the thought of wiping away the drop of sweat on the tip of your nose. Why did you have to smile at her like that? Like she was something you would die for.

Oh, your mere presence was becoming insufferable.

“I would like to invoke a military challenge.” Coach Vlad sighed. “No tips. No mask. First blood.”

“It is up to you,” Coach Vlad said in your direction.

You looked at Wednesday and tilted your head slightly. What was going on in your head? It was a clear indication that you were thinking of something, but what it could be, she had no idea. If you accepted, you would surely lose; a swordsman, you certainly were not. But if you didn’t accept, everyone would know, and you were far too proud for that to happen.

“One request,” you said. Wednesday nodded for you to continue. “I can hold the blade however I wish.”

An odd request. What would your stance have to do with anything, you had clearly proven this was not your strong suit. But if you were convinced it would help you, who was Wednesday to deny you the much-needed advantage? She gave you a single nod, and you smiled before leaning back into a stance that was far more natural for you.

Ah. Wednesday saw her mistake immediately in the way you held the blade. The way you held yourself, more relaxed and agile on your feet. You held the blade down by your left hip and spun it once, your fingers seeming far more at home than in a fencing stance. So you were a swordsman, just not a fencer. This was going to be fun.

You made the first move, an overhead blow. She parried it easily and you stepped back, changing your stance ever so slightly. Ah; you were testing the waters. As you swung again, the difference in your attack barely noticeable, her thoughts started running wild in a mix of counterattacks and her own observations.

Clearly you had done this before. While you certainly weren’t using anything that would be considered legal in fencing, you were able to attack and defend yourself with relative ease. Your footwork could use a little refining as you stumbled when stepping back, but the rest was adequate. More than adequate, if she was being completely honest. It was-

“-ha!”

Wednesday felt the tip of your saber against her chest; why hadn’t you drawn blood and taken the win? Her eyes narrowed as she stepped aside, starting her own offensive. You were not going to take her down, especially not in front of the whole class. She was a proud woman and she would not be taken down by someone by the likes of you.

With no intent of her own, the intensity of her offensive increased as her mind continued to run through everything she was feeling. How the scrunch of your nose in concentration made her palms sweaty. Or how the snarl that tugged on your lips when you managed to sneak onto the offensive managed to make her neck feel hot and her mouth go dry.

She was so distracted by her own damned introspection that she didn’t notice you trip and fall to your knee until it was too late. With an overhand strike, you held your own saber up and blocked it, holding the both of you in an impasse. Your snarl stayed as you looked up and met her eyes, and your face slowly relaxed.

The sparkle in your eyes reminded her of her father. The way he would look at her mother, or even at her and Pugsley. It was a look of admiration, amusement, endearment. A look that said “I am yours, do as you wish.” What could have possibly possessed you to look at her that way? She had agreed to go to the Rave’N with you, had even given you a kiss on the cheek, but what had wormed its way into your brain to make you think she was even capable of reciprocating whatever feelings you were currently displaying on your face?

And why did it make Wednesday want to kill for you?

With a single move, Wednesday knocked the saber out of your hands and let the momentum carry her blade to your neck. You gasped once the cold blade reached its target, but your eyes still stayed locked on her. A smile formed on your lips slowly, and had to fight everything within herself not to reciprocate.

There was just something about seeing you kneeling before her with her blade pressed to your neck, breathing heavily and looking up at her with a smile on your lips that sent a shiver down Wednesday’s spine.

“Wednesday wins,” Coach Vlad called out.

She had almost forgotten she was in class.

With a quick exhale she removed her blade and stepped back. She did her best not to stare at the blood dripping down onto your white shirt. It had been a challenge that she had extended, and you had accepted willingly, yet the knowledge that you were bleeding because of her set something akin to guilt in the back of her throat. Surprisingly, it was accompanied by possessive pride as you continued to smile at her with that awestruck look you so often had.

“Come on, lover girl,” Bianca mumbled to you as she helped you back up to your feet. You still had yet to look away from Wednesday. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

You let Bianca guide you away, turning your head to see Wednesday once more before you finally exited the room and everyone went back about their business. The moment you left, all of that excitement and thrill faded from Wednesday’s veins, leaving her with nothing more than a hollow feeling. She didn’t feel any better after besting you, after humiliating you in front of the entire class and god himself. Those terrible, awful, torturous feelings were still present, and if taking it out on you still didn’t fix it then she was at a loss for what to do next.

You truly were becoming a thorn in her side.

—---

“Wednesday Addams, you are insufferable!”

That wasn’t quite how Wednesday expected to be greeted when she stepped back into the dorm for the first time that day. Classes had finished as usual and she had seen you in chemistry with a piece of gauze over your fresh wound. You had smiled at her just as always, if not a little more dreamy, before being seated with Ajax. Why the teacher had assumed you two would make a good pair, she had no idea.

You both ended up setting another fire. There weren’t even any flammable liquids involved that time. It was impressive, actually.

Then after classes were over, Wednesday had gone to the one place she knew no one would truly bother her; the bee hives. Eugene was there, of course, but he knew when to give her space. Besides, it was nice to have the silent company as she tried to dig through her thoughts and emotions.

This damned school was making her soft.

But she had no idea what had happened for Enid to scold her the minute she walked through the door. It was clear something was going on by the way Enid stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, and Thing was on her shoulder. They were both looking at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was, it would explain the anomalies she was experiencing within herself lately.

“We do not challenge our crushes to a duel!” Enid shouted again once Wednesday had remained silent. “And before you ask, Yoko sent me a video.”

Of course it had been Yoko. If anyone was going to spread the news about what had happened during fencing, it would be Yoko. She was nothing if not a fascinatingly natural spy, and with her two gossip-obsessed girlfriends, it was only logical. Wednesday shouldn’t have been surprised that Enid had found out, only that it had happened so quickly.

“Fencing is a large part of the class,” Wednesday said as she stood up straighter. “I simply needed an opponent.”

“See, normally I would believe you, but you smiled when you beat her.”

No. No, that was impossible, Wednesday did not smile. But when Enid held her phone out to show the video, Wednesday watched in horror as she did, indeed, smile just slightly. The moment her saber had sliced into your neck, the briefest of smiles had appeared. Was that why you had smiled at her in return?

“I am… unused to feeling such things,” Wednesday said slowly only after turning around so she wouldn’t have to actually face Enid. “I required an outlet for these… emotions.”

“Attempted decapitation is not how we deal with our emotions,” Enid argued. “What if she had actually been hurt?”

She supposed Enid was right, although she was drastically dramatizing the event; you hadn’t been nearly decapitated. It had been a simple, clean cut, it would heal in a week or two. And admittedly the thought of you being hurt, by her hands no less, was… less than appealing.

“I admit I am unversed in this area,” Wednesday said as she finally turned back around. Enid and Thing were still looking at her in exasperation.

Thing signed a few things on Enid’s shoulder that had Wednesday’s heart fluttering.

“Thing is right,” Enid said. She looked far too comfortable about teasing Wednesday. “How about you start with an actual date?”

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