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sugawhaaa · 11 months ago

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☆----CHIFUYU FANFIC

☆------------Pervert! Pt. 1

GENRE:: school friend, enemies to lovers [if you squint real hard]

A/N:: I think my girlfriend is mad at me and idk what I did but I'm shy to ask her if she is mad at me...I know she wouldn't care at all but I'm like ehehejwhrejwo

WARNINGS:: VULGAR LANGUAGE, MILD SEX TALK

Tags:: @main-character0

To you, chifuyu was like a friend of a friend of a distant friend. Long story short you weren't very close. You went through elementary school together and all the way until grade 9. He was a dick for most of his life until he started hanging out with this nerd with long dark hair. He suddenly became the nicest guy on earth and he was so laid back. Girls fell for him like flies but he was far too busy to ever give them a chance to talk to him.

You personally don't trust him for a second. There's no way an absolute asshole would instantly become this nice just because of one kid. It made no sense. Chifuyu and his nerd friend hadn't shown up for at least two weeks and you were sitting in class copying some notes. To your surprise, Chifuyu and his friend actually showed up to class. Chifuyu had a few bandages on his face and his friend had 1 or 2 as well. They sat next to you and you avoided looking at them and tapped your pencil on the desk. The girl in front of you turned around. Her name was Rina. She was a close friend of yours but she's fallen mad in love with Chifuyu despite talking to him only twice in her life.

"Oh my god, he's here!" She giggled with excitement. "And he sat next to you!" She smiled and kicked her feet.

"Unfortunately," you rolled your eyes. Rina huffed.

"Your expectations in men are way too high," she then spoke in a whisper and leaned closer. "I mean look at him. His beautiful eyes and his cute little smile," she sighed as she looked at him. She looked back at you and you hadn't even glanced at Chifuyu.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget the kid that used to throw food at kids in elementary school? Or the kid who used to spit on people," you scoffed. Rina rolled her eyes. You glanced over at Chifuyu and he was looking at you, really close.

"Oh you still remember me~" he giggled. You jumped not knowing he was so close to you. You backed up and frowned.

"Unfortunately," you sighed before putting a hand on your chin.

"Ouch," he seethed with a little smile. His friend laughed loudly and pushed him. Chifuyu fell off his chair and landed his head on your lap awkwardly. His friend laughed harder. You got flustered and pushed him. Of course that's when the teacher walked in.

"You pervert!" You shoved him and he fell on the floor.

"Hey, it was Baji's fault!" Chifuyu exclaimed. You frowned and shook your head.

"Would you like to take this to the principal?" She said with a hand on her hip as she stood in front of the three of you. Baji just laughed and the teacher scowled at him. That didn't stop him at all of course. "Chifuyu if you cause one more girl trouble in this class I'll send you to the principal's office," she said sternly. Chifuyu nodded. "Now sit in your chair," she pointed her marker to his chair. He sat on it and turned to face the front. "Sorry for the interruption. Since it is the first week of November..." the teacher continued her lecture.

She was discussing the new assignments of the month. She handed everyone a sheet of paper to start working on and you got to work. Baji and Chifuyu however did not. Baji was flicking something at Chifuyu. Small pieces of paper maybe? Or pencils? Either way they were being annoying.

The teacher stood up from her desk "SHHH!" She directed at Baji and Chifuyu. Chifuyu nodded and went back to his work however Baji...would much rather die. Baji then flicked a pen at Chifuyu but Chifuyu dodged and instead, it hit you right on the bridge of your nose. Of course, it was a metal pen.

"Ow!" You exclaimed and held your nose which started bleeding from the impact.

"That's it! Chifuyu! Baji! Y/N! Go to the principal right now!" The teacher stood up and pointed to the door. The three of you stood up and took all your belongings. Baji seemed to be having a blast with all this chaos. The three of you walked down the hall. Baji and Chifuyu chatted the whole time but you just listened in.

"Great, our first day back since...mobius and we're gonna be sitting in the principals office all damn day," chifuyu groaned.

"Oh, who cares about all this school bullshit anyone. We both know full well we could take Mr. Principal on easy peasy," Baji chuckled. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"How lame," you muttered.

"What'd you just say?" Baji turned to you with a frown.

"I said how. Lame!" I frowned. This nerd really thought he could take on the principal and win. He took off his dorky glasses.

"Say that one more time I dare you." Baji grinned mischievously as he cornered you. You felt a strange vibe from him. You just looked away from him. "That's what I thought," he smiled all friendly again. So weird.

On the way to get to the office, you came across the washroom. Your nose had been bleeding this entire time but you were holding it in so you decided to finally wash up in the washroom. You started heading for the girls washroom and the boys looked at you.

"That ain't the office," Baji chuckled.

"I know Mr. Obvious, I need to use the washroom," you explained before going inside. The two of them followed. "Nope," you said as you pushed them back out. "Wait here. It'll take me 5 seconds," you sighed before walking back in. The two of them waited outside.

"Don't get us in trouble by taking too long," chifuyu said into the bathroom. The echo making his voice loud and clear in the washroom.

"I know I'm being as fast as I can," you said as you wiped up the blood. Damn, how did a pen hurt this much?

"Do you ever wonder what a girl's washroom actually looks like?" Baji asked Chifuyu while you were cleaning up.

"It probably looks like ours just...pink...and no urinals," chifuyu shrugged.

"It's not like I'm gonna go look! I'm not a creep!" Baji exclaimed.

"Never said you would," chifuyu shook his head.

"Aren't you curious?"

"No," chifuyu shrugged.

"What about..." Baji lowered his voice "Tampon dispensers?" He whispered. Chifuyu blushed and looked surprised.

"What the hell!? Why would you even think of that?"

"How do they work I mean..."

"I think they're kind of like the gumball and candy machines at baseball games," Chifuyu explained. "Are you that uneducated?" Chifuyu looked shocked.

"Well yeah I was busy fighting black dragon during sex-ed," Baji mumbled. You cleared your throat as you stood behind Chifuyu. He turned to look at you and blushed.

"We done?" You frowned.

☆--------at the office

"I understand. If you two don't start cleaning up your act and coming to school you'll get expelled or worse suspended. I'm sure your parents don't want to hear this," the principal lectured. Baji scoffed and looked away. "Baji...is there a problem?"

"Yeah maybe that you didn't consider that maybe Chifuyu’s parents are present in his life?" Baji snapped back at him. You looked shocked to hear this. You thought Chifuyu was a spoiled brat but...maybe not by this news.

Chifuyu kept his head down and his fists clenched.

"Baji please calm down," the principal spoke calmly. Baji gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. You stood in the corner waiting to see if Bajis gonna knock the lights out of the principal. Chifuyu put his hand of Bajis shoulder.

"It's okay Baji, just sit down. We've been through enough this week," chifuyu said softly.

Not long after you were dismissed from the office and sent home. You swung your bag on and went to meet your friends outside of the school. You told them what had happened today with Twiddle dee and Twiddle Dumb. All the girls were shocked that you were alone with both of them for at least an hour. As you were talking you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see Chifuyu.

"Can we talk? In private," chifuyu spoke sternly.

"Sure" you shrugged. He led you out back behind the school at the picnic tables. He sat on top of one of them.

"Listen...anything you heard about me and Baji's personal life today. Please don't go around spreading our personal lives," he spoke in a serious tone. "I don't know if you know what we're like outside of school, or if you even know who we are but...it's dangerous as shit alright?" He spoke in a serious tone. You had never seen him like this. He was usually so chill and didn't care about anything really. But now he was sincere and dire.

"I won't, I promise," you bowed in respect. Chifuyu smiled warmly. He nodded and hopped off the table. He started to walk away before stopping, he turned to you and spoke.

"You know I've never hit a girl before...and I don't want to. Please don't get into this," he said in a serious tone before walking off and meeting up with Baji.

Well that's a strange way to say goodbye...

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bella-rose29 · 6 months ago

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Domestic Sweetness - part 1

requested by @oblivious-idiot: HI BELLE MY BELOVED you told me to make a formal request so!! can i request a lockwood x fem!reader - domestic sweetness, cooking for each other, lockwood giving reader his jumper, that kind of thing feel free to go as wild and fluffy as you like hehe

"Love is wont to bring many calamities upon men" is the other thing I based this on and I feel like it's very fitting indeed

I AM SO SORRY IT'S TAKEN ME ACTUAL MONTHS TO DO THIS BUT YOU HAD UPDATES ALONG THE WAY SO I HOPE THAT HELPED

word count: 4.6k

warnings: painfully sweet relationship depicted, lockwood actually gets injured quite a lot (sorry to my boy), swearing, I think that's it? oh wait no there's like one or two slight innuendos whoops

“Can you pass the sugar, Lockwood?”

“Sure, here.” A heavy jar was placed on the counter next to you, and you paused in your stirring to measure out the new ingredient. He was smiling widely at you, a grin that could rival the sun with how bright and happy it was, and you almost felt bad about telling him that he’d brought the salt instead of sugar. His brow furrowed, and he checked the label again. “Damn. Sorry, darling, I could have sworn I picked up the right jar. The sun must have faded the pen; I’ll rewrite it.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before going in search of a marker, turning back momentarily to pass you the actual jar of sugar.

George, Lucy, and Holly had gone out for the day, taking advantage of one of the last few warm days of autumn before winter started setting in and filled up their schedules with clients. Lockwood and Y/n had stayed in, making the most of the fact they had the house to themselves for a few hours and could make as much mess in the kitchen as possible without being shouted at. Besides, if the others did get mad then there would at least be cake to sweeten them up a little.

Lockwood let out a small triumphant “Ha!” from across the kitchen, telling you that he’d found a pen. There was a brief pause, the only sounds being those of the spoon in the mixing bowl bringing all the ingredients together, and then the sound of a mason jar being opened.

“Lockwood?” He hummed in response.

“What are you doing?” You stopped stirring to look over at your boyfriend just in time to see him eat a spoonful of whatever was in the jar he’d just opened. “Wha… what the actual fuck?” He grimaced, pulling a face and sticking his tongue out repeatedly as though it would get rid of the taste.

“…I had to check it was definitely salt.” He looked sheepish, a faint tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as you stood with your hands on your hips and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Of course it’s salt, dipshit. I’ve got the sugar!”

“I didn’t want to get it wrong!”

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to see what a spoonful of salt tasted like?” He didn’t say anything, instead starting to write ‘salt’ on the label with far too much concentration. You sighed, turning back to the bowl. “Idiot,” you muttered, but there was a smile on your face regardless.

~~~

Lockwood could still taste the salt.

He’d washed his mouth out with roughly four cups of tea and six pints of water, but the tang of the teaspoon of salt he’d eaten earlier was still there. He couldn’t even complain about it either, because Y/n just laughed at him and said he had to live with the consequences of his actions.

At least he now knew what a spoonful of salt tasted like.

He heard you struggle a little from his place at the sink (he’d been put on washing up duty), and looked to his left to see you attempting to reach something on the top shelf. Drying his hands on the tea towel he slung it over his shoulder and stepped over, coming up behind to help. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his front, while the other reached up and took the second mixing bowl out of the cupboard. “Here you are, darling,” he whispered, deliberately lowering his voice and speaking directly into your ear, tightening his hold around your waist for a brief moment and delighting in both the involuntary shiver and small sound that left your mouth. He kissed your temple and let go, placing the mixing bowl on the counter and moving away to finish washing up.

“You,” his girlfriend started, clutching the sideboard, “are evil, Anthony Lockwood. Pure evil.”

He just laughed in reply, and yelped when you dipped your hand in the sink and threw soapy water in his face.

~~~

The cake had been sat on the side for a while now, sponges cooling down so that the icing that the two of you were currently making wouldn’t melt and slide right off.

“That’s way too much icing, isn’t it?”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll eat any leftovers.”

“Lockwood, you can’t just put everything in your mouth.”

“Icing won’t kill me, Y/n.”

You sighed, fighting back the smile that threatened to break through. “Still. You’ll probably be sick if you eat that much.” Lockwood didn’t bother hiding his grin, dipping a finger into the bowl to scoop some icing up. He laughed when you smacked his chest, smile never disappearing even when he nearly fell backwards off his chair. “Does it taste alright?”

“Yep. Tastes perfect. I could totally eat that whole bowl and not get sick.”

“Well,” you replied, standing up from the kitchen table and heading for the sponges. “You’re not going to find out if you can. The cake’s cool enough now. Here, take the spatula. You can lick it when we’re done. When we’re done, Anthony. Not now.” Lockwood pouted with the implement halfway to his mouth, sticking his bottom lip out so far it looked ridiculous, and you snorted and gave him a peck on the cheek. “C’mon, the cake won’t ice itself.”

A short while later the majority of the icing had been used, spread as neatly as possible over the cake that had now been assembled. “It looks pretty good!” Lockwood said, standing back to admire it.

“I just hope it tastes as good.”

“Of course it will. You always doubt yourself and then make the most incredible things I’ve ever eaten, so I don’t know why you’re always so unsure.” He’d said it so casually, inspecting the spatula in his hand and leaning back against the counter, and he was talking about cake, but it meant a lot. He wasn’t wrong, and the fact that he’d said that as nonchalantly as he had made your heart clench in your chest. Looking at Lockwood now, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window and casting him in a soft golden glow, you found yourself wondering how the hell you’d managed to end up with someone as wonderful as him.

Then he practically deep-throated the spatula, and the illusion of Anthony Lockwood as some magnificent and incredible person was partially shattered.

“Anthony, what the-” you cut yourself off, staring in shock at your boyfriend as he took the nearly-clean spatula out his mouth and stared back, the picture of innocence. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be mad, not when he was looking at you with those wide brown eyes and titling his head a little in a silent question. “Never mind.”

“What is it?”

“You- you just shoved the whole thing in your mouth!”

“Yeah, and?” He didn’t seem concerned about the fact he could have choked, instead resorting to licking the spatula like an ice cream to get the last of the icing off. For a moment, memories of his tongue doing a similar thing but in a very different context flooded your brain, not helped at all by the soft moan he let out at the taste of the icing.

“Just, uh… you could have- you…” He had that innocent look on his face again, and it was difficult to remember what you’d been saying. “Don’t worry about it,” you muttered, gaze fixed on the spatula. Lockwood noticed, of course, and immediately a smug look took over his features. He exaggerated his movements, and the spell was broken. It definitely helped take your mind off of… other things, especially when he accidentally smacked himself in the face with the spatula.

“Ouch,” he said, rubbing his cheek and frowning at the implement.

“It’s your fault, you know. I have no sympathy for you.”

“Rude.” There was no malice in his response, and the glare he gave you was teasing.

“What are we gonna do with the rest of the icing? There’s too much to put on the cake, but not enough to put on something else. It would be a shame to waste it.”

“Eat it?”

“You want to eat everything, Anthony.” He walked over to the sink, dropping the spatula in the water and cleaning it before moving to the kitchen table where the bowl of icing sat. “What are you doing now?”

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you closer with his left hand. His right was dipping into the icing bowl again, but before you could chastise him for it he was gently taking hold of your waist and pulling you in to his side, lifting his right hand to your mouth. “Open up.”

“Wha- just eat it off your hand? When did you last wash them?”

“You literally watched me wash them about a minute ago, I’m not sure why you’re concerned about that. We’ve got to eat the icing up, so if you won’t eat it then I will.”

“Fine. Go on then,” you said, sighing and opening your mouth. He paused for a moment, hand a few inches away from your face, and for a split-second you thought you saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. You should have realised that he would take advantage of the situation when his grip on your waist tightened, pinning you to his side so that he could wipe the icing on your cheek instead. A disbelieving scoff left your mouth, eyes widening as you took in the grin he was giving you. “Really? I thought you wanted to eat it?”

He shrugged. “I can lick it off afterwards.” Under the icing your cheeks burned. Recovering quickly you reached into the bowl yourself, grabbing the back of his top to stop him lurching away when he realised that he was under attack.

“Not a fucking chance you’re getting away with this,” you muttered, spreading the icing over his chin (he’d jerked his head back at the last second, and given the awkward angle it was the only part of his face you could reach). Now it was his turn to huff in incredulity, and there was a brief pause where the two of you stood - still grasping each other to prevent any escapes - and looked at each other.

Then something clicked, and at the same time you both made a mad scrabble for the icing bowl, hands dipping in to collect ammunition before attempting to smear the topping all over each other.

When Lucy, George, and Holly came home roughly half an hour later desperate for a cup of tea and a quiet evening in, they found you and Lockwood lying on the kitchen floor, icing spread around most of the room and baking trays used as what looked like makeshift shields, wide smiles on both of your faces.

George nearly had an aneurysm at the state of the kitchen, but after he made the pair of you swear to clean it before you went to bed and left the room in a huff he couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face.

~~~

“Did we run out of teabags again?” Lucy called from the kitchen. It was incredible how far her voice could carry, really, since you and Lockwood were in his room a floor up with the door closed and music playing, and yet could still hear her. George yelled back something about how he’d meant to go the other day but forgot, and he couldn’t right now because he was doing yoga. Holly had already gone home, and when Lucy appeared at Lockwood’s bedroom door a few minutes later you sighed.

“Why do we have to go? We just got comfy in bed,” Lockwood said, even though he was the only one currently under the covers and was still in his day clothes. You had been changing the music over, having grown bored of the previous record.

“Because I need to wash my hair? And George is probably butt-naked so he can’t go. You two are already dressed anyway, so why does it matter?”

“She’s got a point, Lockwood,” you started. “It’ll be fun! Besides, we’ll have some time for just the two of us, and-” You didn’t even get to finish before he was launching himself out of bed, grabbing your wrist, and hurling the both of you down the stairs, already reaching for his coat and shoes.

“See you later!” Lucy called, heading up to the attic. “Oh, and we need bread too!”

“Got it!” you yelled back, stifling your laughter at how frantically Lockwood was moving. “Why’re you going so fast? No, slow- slow down!” He had pulled your own coat off the rack and started putting your arms through the sleeves, and was now wrapping his yellow and brown patchwork scarf around his neck.

“What? Am I not allowed to want to spend time with you? Alone?” He waggled his eyebrows around at the last word, leaning in close and aiming for a kiss, lips pursed comically as he shut his eyes. You pushed his face away, snorting at his theatrics, and put your own scarf around your neck before heading for the front door. Stuffing a bag in his coat pocket (you would never understand how he could fit so many things in them, they were stupidly deep) he followed after you, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were walking down the road hand in hand (or rather, hand in arm; your palms always got uncomfortably sweaty whenever you held hands for too long, and Lockwood had long since learned that letting you nestle your hand in the crook of his elbow was much better for both of you).

“Teabags and bread, right?” you asked, double checking with Lockwood that you hadn’t got it wrong in the five minutes since you’d left the house. Lockwood hummed in response, a soft smile decorating his face. He turned his head to look down at you, and while his smile was still small you could see the happiness in his eyes. It was strange: before meeting him you hadn’t ever thought that someone could look at you like that, but here was Anthony Lockwood, gazing at you like there was nothing else in the world - in the universe - that mattered more than you.

Maybe he should have considered that other things did matter, because barely two seconds later he walked face first into a lamppost.

You desperately wanted to comfort him and check that he was alright but instead laughter burst its way up and out, making you double over and wheeze.

“It’s not funny!” he exclaimed, clutching his nose, but there was a badly concealed grin under his hand.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to get out, except you were still laughing and probably looked everything but sorry. “You just- you just walked straight into it!”

“Funnily enough,” he started, wincing as he prodded his nose with his index finger, “I was aware of the fact I walked into a lamppost. Not sure what it was that made me aware of it; maybe the way my entire face hurts has something to do with it?” Your laughter had died down now, one or two small giggles still breaking through, and you moved closer to inspect his face yourself. Knocking his hands away, you brought your own up, feeling along the skin to check for… well you weren’t really sure what you were checking for, but his nose didn’t seem broken, and he didn’t have any cuts or bleeding. He might end up with a bruise or two, but he’d wear them just as proudly as the slight blue tinge on his hand from years ago or the very large eye bags he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“Sorry,” you said again, meaning it a little more this time. You paused for a moment, a slightly guilty look appearing on your face. “I really wish I had had my camera with me to catch that though, is that bad?” He stared at you in open-mouthed shock, but the amusement glistening in his eyes told you it was just pretend.

“How… dare you!” He lunged, arms outstretched in an attempt to catch you, but you spun away just in time, laughing loudly and jogging away down the pavement. Lockwood rushed after you, and his long spindly legs made the distance you had created seem like nothing. He wrapped his arms around your midriff from behind, pulling you back against him and lifting you up in the air all in one go. He spun the both of you around, unable to stop his own laughter as you kicked and squeezed your eyes tightly shut, and after what felt like far too long (but in reality was probably no more than five seconds) he put you down again, twisting you around by his grip on your waist so that you were facing each other. “So rude,” he muttered, grinning while he leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “So rude.” Lockwood pulled back, releasing your waist and moving to the outside of the pavement while dramatically doing a little bow and offering up his arm.

“Are you sure your face is alright?”

“I’m sure. A bit sore, but I’ve had worse. A cup of tea when we get back will help, I think.” He was still bent a little in the middle so you took his arm and let him stand up straight and lead you down the road again.

~~~

“Is that all we needed?” you asked, walking back over to where Lockwood stood with the shopping basket. “It doesn’t seem like a lot given we came to the big shop.” Lockwood looked a little sheepish for barely a second, quickly schooling his expression back into one that looked more like ‘I’m so happy to be out with my girlfriend’, but you caught it regardless. Narrowing your eyes, you spoke again. “We didn’t need to come here, did we.” It wasn’t a question, and Lockwood shrunk back a little. “We could have gone to Arif’s; you saying he was shut was a lie!”

“Sorry,” he grinned. “I just wanted to spend more time with you, is all.” How could you stay mad at him when he was looking at you like that? Those brown eyes would be the death of you, you were sure of it.

“Fine,” you replied, drawing out the word. “But we’re buying biscuits.”

“Happy to, since it means we get longer together before you have to go home.” The pair of you started walking again, heading for the biscuit isle, when Lockwood stopped abruptly in the middle of the store. “Did you need anything? You know…” he waved the hand that wasn’t holding the basket in the vague direction of your body. “I seem to remember you saying you were running out of something? Pads, maybe? Or was it the liner thingies? Oh! And painkillers, we need more of those. George used the last for a headache he had the other week and I forgot to restock.”

“How… you remember me saying that?” He started dragging you away from the biscuit isle and instead towards the toiletries isle, seemingly nonplussed about the fact he’d remembered one off-hand comment you had made ages ago.

“Of course I do. I keep a little list in a notebook so I don’t forget anything. Ah, here we are.” He stopped walking to frown at the display of products before the two of you. “Actually… I have no idea what I’m looking at right now.”

“That’s alright,” you responded, reaching out for the things you needed. “I would have completely forgotten if you hadn’t reminded me, and that would have been a disaster.” As soon as you were done, basket just that little bit heavier, you both turned and left for the biscuits for the second time.

“You pick,” Lockwood said as you neared. “I picked the biscuits last time and the others aren’t here, so tough luck for them.”

Despite you all calling it the Big Shop it was only a small amount larger than Arif’s, and as such the aisles weren’t all that much taller - you could often find Lockwood’s head floating above the shelves which made it easy to not get lost - but it did mean that if anybody was below the height of the aisles, they were practically invisible. Unfortunately someone had been just around the corner of the biscuit aisle, hidden behind a board advertising a brand, and you didn’t have time to correct your course.

“Oof! Watch it!”

At first you thought you’d bumped into a small child, possibly around six or seven years in age but just above the average height, and that he was in need of a personality check for the attitude he’d just given you. Then when you blinked and the child stood up after being sent flying across the floor, you realised that you were in fact looking at Bobby Vernon instead.

“Sorry, Bobby,” Lockwood said, trying not to smile while the other agent brushed himself off. “Didn’t see you behind the display.”

“Lockwood, that display is the size of a large rat at most,” Bobby scowled, inspecting a non-existent rip in his Fittes uniform. You had only met Bobby Vernon once before (a few months ago, and he hadn’t said a word), and you were surprised that he apparently hadn’t gone through puberty yet. There was the odd crack in his words when he spoke, but otherwise his voice sounded like what could only be described as a mouse’s feet gently pattering over a tin roof, or perhaps something akin to a child talking to you in high tones very far away.

“I’m aware of that,” replied Lockwood, having given up on hiding his grin by now. “What are you doing here?”

“I was getting supplies for a case that we have tonight. Not sure if you remember what those are, Lockwood, but we’re fully booked for the foreseeable future.” He puffed his chest out, giving the impression of a fairy trying to make itself look bigger than it was, or a small pufferfish going up against a whale. His tone had gone all smug and holier-than-thou, and you didn’t much like it.

“Actually,” Lockwood started, with a look that told you he was about to start lying, “we’re doing quite well ourselves.” There it was. You’d spoken to Holly earlier that day, and the biggest job that Lockwood and Co had for the next week or so was hanging up lavender in a hotel a couple of streets away. Bobby raised an eyebrow (or tried to; it looked a lot more like he’d been told that someone had just adopted a pair of gerbils for him and named them Harold and Nancy or something ridiculous like that) and scoffed. Lockwood didn’t falter though, his smile staying plastered on his face and his posture confident (seriously, the boy had to have had dancing lessons with a back that straight), and after a few moments Bobby gave up scrutinising him.

“Well I’d best be getting on,” the Fittes agent said, straightening his jacket and sniffing. “Busy life and all that. I hope you fall in a river, Lockwood. Or set another building on fire so that they can finally take you out of the game.” You huffed an incredulous laugh, not believing how someone who looked so small and mouse-like could say something like that. Before either you or Lockwood could respond Bobby Vernon had walked off, his rapier dragging against the floor a little and nearly tripping him with how long it was compared to his body.

“He was nice,” you mused, turning to grab some biscuits. Jammy dodgers were the first to go in the basket, since George always ate the lot of them and rarely bothered with any others.

“Bobby’s always a joy to be around,” Lockwood replied, reaching his hand out for yours. You shook your head and put a packet of bourbons in the basket instead, already going for some chocolate covered hobnobs and digestives. Lockwood had started grabbing at yours, so you cast one last look at the basket and the shelves before indulging him. “Is that everything do you think?” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, keeping his lips there while he waited for you to respond.

“Yeah, I think so. We can always pop out again tomorrow if we missed anything.”

Just under ten minutes later the pair of you were out of the shop, Lockwood carrying the bags in one arm and your hand resting in the crook of his other. It was darker now than when you’d left the house, the evening properly drawing in and clouds darkening the sky, but with Lockwood by your side the world could never be anything but bright. The wind picked up, ruffling his hair (that somehow managed to still look great while you looked like you’d been dragged backwards through a hedge) and threatening to pull his scarf away. You reached out to grab it before the end could break free, effectively making the both of you grind to a halt. “Thanks,” he grinned, probably completely unaware of how he made you feel. A sudden urge to kiss him like those scenes in the movies overtook you, and you took your other hand out of the crook of his elbow to grab a hold of the other end of his scarf. Tugging harshly on the fabric, you yanked Lockwood down to press your lips to his, closing your eyes right before contact.

Contact never came.

Not for you, anyway. Lockwood did make contact, but with the floor instead of your lips, and there was a painful sounding thud when he landed. “Oops…” you murmured, hands now held up by your face instead of holding Lockwood’s scarf.

There was a moment of silence where Lockwood was just lying on the pavement, face down while splayed out like one of those white chalk body outlines in crime reports, and then you couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore.

It bubbled up, and at the small groan that escaped your boyfriend you tried to stop, pressing your hand over your mouth in an attempt to prevent any more laughter. You were unsuccessful, instead laughing even harder when he lifted his head to show the red print of concrete on his cheek and scowled up at you. Luckily the shopping had stayed in the bags, so when Lockwood pushed himself up off the floor and brushed the stray bits of pavement off of him, all he had to do was pick up the bag. He gently touched a couple of fingers of his free hand to his nose, testing for any injuries, then nodded when he felt satisfied that there wasn’t anything too worrying. He caught you hiding your grin and gave you one of his own before opening his mouth.

“Kiss my nose better?”

You snorted, stepping closer to Lockwood but not yet obliging. You checked for any damage to his nose yourself, not trusting him to have done a good enough job. “What makes you think I will?”

“Well I think I deserve some sort of compensation for my injuries,” he replied, using his spare hand to pull you into his chest by your waist.

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm,” he said, voice growing quieter as he leaned in. His nose brushed against yours, warm breath on your face a pleasant contrast to the chill in the air. The wind was still pulling at your hair and clothes, rustling the plastic shopping bags in Lockwood’s hand and making your cheeks sting at the cold.

“Alright then, if that’s what the doctor ordered.”

“It is,” Lockwood muttered, but the end of his sentence was lost in your lips.

tag list:

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlitcanvas, @cielooci, @35-portlandxrow, @laumire, @isimpfor-everyone, @furblrwurblr

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, and of COURSE @oblivious-idiot for the request

as always, if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here!

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you

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livviewritess · 5 months ago

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⭐Stars n' Scars⭐

Summary: Daryl finds his love interest (y/n) in the woods, crying about her scars. Daryl has to do something about it.

Era: Prison

The twigs in the woody forest crunched underneath Daryl's big boots. He'd been walking for about 20 minutes now, since Rick had sent him to go and hunt for some food out in the nearby Forrest.

Some other branches snapped. Uncorrelated to his own feet thumping the ground. He came to a pause, loading his crossbow. He eased towards the sound, noticing you sitting at a tree next to the little river they had discovered. He was silent, observing you from a distance. You where cleaning your arms, getting rid of the blood and muck from the past few days of digging holes for the undead. But.. you where crying. Daryl stared, then narrowing his eyes down to your arms and your legs. You had rolled up your jeans to rid the grime, something you never did. He was staring for some while until he leaned his weight onto one leg, causing a twig to snap underneath him.

You snapped your head up, looking at him wide eyed. he emerged from the treeline, stepping forward, his eyes fixated on your scars. You could feel your eyes burning, tears swelling up. You yanked your trouser legs down, and stared at the floor, almost ashamed.

"hey." He said, sitting in front of her on a log that had been previously been chopped by Carl and Hershel for firewood. She looks up, still not making eye contact with the redneck.

"look at me." You moved your eyes up, meeting his. He stared even longer, getting lost in your gaze. You looked a lot like beth. Same long, blonde hair, bright blue doey eyes and an unmistakable smile. You loved bows, pink ribbons, skirts and pretty, frilly tshirts. You where the polar opposite of Beth and Maggie. Quiet, reserved, awfully awkward, and jumpy.

His hand grazed over your arm, sending sparks and butterflies through your body. You flinched away, not wanting your scars to scare him away.

"m' not gonna hurt ya, sunshine," he said softly, holding your hand. He grabbed a marker from his back pocket, one he kept to mark where to go next on the map.

He rolled up her sleeve, and started doodling stars over the scars on her forearm. She was staring at the river, and her eyes drifted to her arms.

"Daryl?.." you whispered, staring. He grunted, continuing with the doodles.

He soon finished, running his finger over the marker, noting that it's dry, then he rolls down her sleeve.

"shoulda told me you had em. Got a bunch of scars on ma chest." He says, looking down at you. "Can I draw stars on them?" He pauses.

"don't see why not." He says, peeling off his shirt and vest, giving her the pen.

"New hobby?" She asked.

"new hobby, sunshine."

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #imagine #oneshots #smut #twd daryl #daryl x reader

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afreakingdork · 17 days ago

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Soft Spot - Chapter 15

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Yes, it is she. You know her! You love her! The myth. The legend. Your ex-roommate! It's Coral done by the darling @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

You walked Donnie down the street. You didn’t have a hold on him, but he was using you as a guide since he was conversing with Spencer in his glasses. A series of emails that were being passed that no one from the outside could see and you tried your best to weave him through pedestrians. He had assured you he had done this many times on his own, but his distracted gait made you doubt he had done so without casualty.

Maybe he did have the power to dodge people perfectly at the last second, but you preferred if he made his journey without startling leagues of pedestrians.

You hoped they finished up soon because you were getting close to the street where you would part ways. You had just finished another appointment with Dr. Kuro for your first of many weekly updates. Now marked at nine weeks, you were moving along with better data. Your blood tests confirmed that you were in great human and non-mutated health. Your swabs said that your womb had yokai markers, but none of which was affecting your body as a whole.

It was an oddity that you were just going to have to accept.

Like how your embryo had half an eggshell on it.

Like many other things that were making you nervous, but you didn’t currently have time for.

You needed to guide Donnie.

“Y/N.” The man in question spoke as if on cue.

“Yeah?”

“Spencer sends cursory greetings and congratulations.”

“Send him one last email telling him I expect a gift basket. A good one.”

“He’s already considered and chose to send flowers.”

“What? They’re tough on your nose in the apartment! The space is too small for the smell!”

“Here.” He held out his hand and a screen appeared.

You took it from him even though you knew he was floating it to you. “What is he thinking…?”

Unlike Donnie, you veered off to the side to stop and read.

One amongst a long email chain, it was a list from Spencer that reminded you of school prizes for meeting fundraising milestones.

For conceiving, you got flowers.

For getting past a certain point in pregnancy, you would get a gift basket.

For securing government surrender, you would receive an all expenses paid hotel visit along with a day trip to a spa that seemed to specialize in pampering pregnant people.

You stared at the last with mounting sarcasm before you looked up to your partner. “You really waste Genius Built funds on this?”

“We have an account specifically for bribing clients.”

“I’m not a client, but I’m glad you’re calling it what it is.”

“Spencer does not.”

“Spencer probably calls it an entertainment expense.”

Donnie’s head tipped to agree.

“Fuck it. I’ll take it, but tell him to make it live flowers. Have him throw in one of those planters that’ll hang off the fire escape. We’ll put them outside the kitchen window.”

You watched as the window in front of you shot down the email chain and a new message was penned.

You reviewed what your husband wrote. “Gotta play his game. Say something about how hard we’ve worked for this and he’s being a jerk for assuming I’d enjoy a ‘participation trophy’ gift in light of growing a literal life, but make it way less mean.”

It took a few adjustments since Donnie wasn’t nearly as versed in corporate speak, but you got something safe enough to be seen by HR and it was sent.

“What does he think?” You asked as you slipped back onto the sidewalk. “Will the government change their mind?”

Donnie stayed close to your side. “He’ll find the advantage and make it work.”

You nodded.

“He agrees with Kuro’s determination.”

“You already dropped the ‘doctor?’”

“You’ll be on a first name basis soon.” He spoke with metered affection.

You were inclined to agree since she had given you her personal number both for emergencies and to text any oddities over.

“We’ll part up ahead.” Donnie was clearly looking toward the next intersection.

“What’s your plan for today?”

“Schematics.”

“I bet Spencer has all the marketing ready for your new baby division.”

He gave a single nod and you approached the curb. “Pass my salutations on to Coral.”

“Will do.” You stepped close to your husband and gave him a quick hug before heading off as the signal turned.

You felt him watch after you before he took his leave down the side of the street. While you had driven to your appointment, it made more sense to walk to your next destination with its proximity. It was a short 10 minutes to where you were meeting your friend. It helped too since you were gradually adding more steps. Instead of diving into some intense exercise regime, you were taking it slow. Your plan to get smoothies fell in a similar line with your diet changes.

You only had a few shops to go, but identified your friend’s messy bun from where you were. She was dressed casually and kicked back against a small fence while staring down at her phone. Her lips pinched in concentration, but her eyes held a lackadaisical quality that said she was reading some rag she didn’t agree with.

“What’s it this time?” You spoke as you stepped into her side.

“They swapped some brand’s packaging for less plastic and everyone’s whining even though we know everyone just throws the box away. Like who cares?” She glanced at you and then back at her phone before offering it.

“Everyone’s gonna complain about something.” You huffed.

“Yep! You’ve heard my mom!” She kicked off the metal railing for a reverberation and got upright.

“What was it last time?” You pondered and led toward the smoothie shop door.

“What wasn’t it?” She scoffed and followed along.

“It was something…” You got in line. “… like she got an ice cream bar and wouldn’t stop talking about how some of the caramel was on the packaging…?”

Coral tossed her head up to the ceiling to groan. “Because mega corp asshole Unilever cares about making each bar identically perfect!”

“She threw out the box, didn’t she?!”

“Yes!” Coral shoved a finger into your arm. “Now she’s the one bad for the environment. The amount of shit she wastes and garbage she buys.”

“What are you getting?”

“I don’t know. These things are glorified desserts. There’s one with moo in the title of something. You?”

“I was thinking the green one. Always wanted to try it.”

“The pseudo-health shit?” Coral cut in front of you to order first.

“You’re only like triple standard territory with all your beauty crap.”

“Oh no!” Coral pretended to bemoan before she cut the act long enough to order for both of you. “I want to pamper myself when everything is on fire. Sue me.”

“Add flax!” You rushed to the employee.

The person took down the note with no problem and you moved to the register.

“Flax?” Coral mouthed. “Are you doing overnight oats with chia seeds, grandma?”

“Barb after barb.” You both shoved each other for your wallets before she won out as her elbow inched dangerously close to your abdomen and you bowed out.

She paid. “You compared me to my mom!”

“I was just saying you buy crap-crap too.”

“You’re totally not a thing name for senseless shit.”

“It’s cute.” You stepped out of the way for the next person and blenders started up. “You suggested smoothies. I’m just trying something new.”

“It is cute and I wanted a million calories of peanut butter and chocolate in a little less lethal form.”

“They call that protein.”

“Who does? Meat heads?”

“Isn’t that the marketing?” You gestured to a sign where a man with rippling muscles appeared to be drinking a milkshake.

“Eh!” She shrugged. “How’s being pregnant?”

“Surprisingly not that-“ You froze.

Coral obviously propped her elbows up on a nearby standing table and gestured for you to join her.

You hobbled to stand across from her and searched her wildly.

You hadn’t told anyone.

Not yet.

Not for a very specific reason.

“How?” You hissed.

She was a little taken aback by the force of your response, but played it off. “You looked it then acted like it.”

“Yeah, no! Not good enough! How?!” You leaned in to seethe with a modicum of privacy.

“I noticed the second I saw you. You really do look it. It’s like a glow. You know I’ve always been able to tell. How many celebrities have I been right about?”

“You can’t know from that!”

“Why not?” She tilted her head with caustic innocence.

“Because nobody can know-!” A worried sound caught your throat and you shirked away.

It put Coral on high alert. “Is something wrong??”

“No… It’s just…”

“Hey.” She reached across the table and touched your arm.

You took her hand in and then all but flopped against the tall table. “Did the green smoothie thing tip you off? I need to go ham on fiber and vitamins.”

“No, I figured it out the moment I saw you. Everything else was confirmation. The drink choice, the flax, how you were terrified I’d even look at your stomach. I was just waiting for the best time to ask.”

“When you could trick me into confirming.” You griped.

She smiled a little. “Well?”

“We just had our second OB appointment.”

“Oh?” Her head bobbed.

“Yeah. She’s like the best of the best. Endora Kuro.”

Coral shrugged, not knowing who that was.

“I’m at nine weeks.”

“Holy shit!” She bounced with excitement. “That’s so far along!”

“I guess?”

“Congrat-”

You seized her wrist. “Don’t!”

She only blinked wide.

“Don’t… do that. Don’t tell anyone…”

“Okay, cut the crap. What’s up? Something’s up.”

“There’s…” Your smoothies were called and you broke for a moment to get them. “It’s a whole thing.”

“Looks like we’ve got time.” She tipped her straw to you and sucked the thick liquid.

You followed suit and were thankful for the relatively bland flavor. “The embryo is strange.”

“Yeah, well. Look at its dad.”

You shot her a glare.

“Sorry, last joke.”

“You’re not… wrong. The mutation is making things complicated.”

She hummed for you to go on with a sip.

“You know how I told you mutants aren’t supposed to reproduce and chances were low?”

She gulped. “Yeah?”

“The embryo is showing hybrid signs. There’s some placenta and some eggshell. My body’s not made to make the shells, obviously. We don’t know how it’s going to grow. We don’t know if it can grow. It’s all… scary. Nerve-wracking. A whole thing.”

“Oh…” Coral’s tone dipped with similar worry and sympathy.

“Yeah.”

“So… you’re waiting? For what exactly?”

“Three months.” You leveled with her. “Something like 80% of miscarriages happen in the first three and after that it drops significantly because of how far along the baby is. It’s considered safer and we’ve decided to wait until then to tell anyone.”

She nodded slowly. “Won’t you start to show?”

“I guess? Nothing yet, but I think the bump will be small around then so it’ll be easy to hide with clothes.”

“It’s like after four months or… something… that you’ll show?” She thought hard for a moment, but came out unsure.

“Yeah…”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” You lit up to enforce it. “Today’s appointment was good. Everything is still good. It seems like it’s on track, but there’s this undercurrent of nerves everyone has. Stress is bad so I’m trying not to let it get to me, but I can tell from the very few people who know that it’s a scary thing and they’re all acting the same way. Like we all hung up a safety net, but we’re pretending it’s not there for the tightrope walk.”

“All those months of you trying.”

You drank your smoothie.

“You finally nailed it and now this…? Sucks.”

“Exactly.”

She huffed and for a few minutes you slurped in silence.

“It’s… kind of nice to have a not like legally invested party know…”

Coral snorted.

“Like Spencer knows, for the whole ‘government take down’ thing and my doctor. That’s it.”

“And Shrek.”

You blew an unintentional raspberry and tried not to spray green flecks. “Shrek!?”

“Shrek fucked.”

“Stop!”

“He did! Had three kids! Wait, was it just three…?”

You pushed the table into her.

She started to shove it back, but realized the angle would hit your stomach and stopped. “Oh.”

“Please don’t. I’m not that fragile.”

“You were weird in line.”

Your teeth flashed.

“Yeah.” Her lids fluttered. “I change my mind. You were super suss and if it wasn’t already obvious, I would have figured it out then.”

“I need to be careful with the others.” You decided and ruminated on how.

Coral let a beat of silence go by before she tepidly asked, “There’s a pic then, right? If you’re doing weekly check-ups?”

You made a little excited noise and dove for your phone.

She was around the table in an instant and touted a strange accent. “I would like to see the baby.”

“This is eight and this is nine.” You flipped between the two pictures.

“It’s a bean!” She cooed.

“Kidney bean! That’s what the doctor said.”

“I love how they’re creatures like this. Way cuter than when they come out.”

You laughed.

“With those bug eyes and gooey bodies!” She teased.

“Obviously better when they’re grey blobs.”

“I always thought grey aliens were cute.”

“You’re insane.”

“You hang out with me.”

“Clearly speaks to me. What if I’m taking pity on you?”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s walk.”

You followed her out and totted your smoothies as you wandered leisurely.

“Is it gonna be green?”

“Hm?” You hummed around your straw.

“The baby.”

“I’m not sure.”

She grumbled lightly. “I guess you wouldn’t know much at this point.”

“It seems like it's growing a carapace.”

“What’s that in English?”

You shot her a dry look.

“I don’t know!”

“A turtle shell.” You threw a thumb toward your back.

She made a horrified face.

“What?!”

“How are you gonna squeeze that out!?”

You gave a small yell. “Thank you! Donnie’s species is called spiny too!”

“Is he sharp…?”

“Not really. His shell is kind of… bumpy? Leathery…?”

“Lame.”

“He should be-!” You cut yourself off and scowled. “It’s a whole thing, but not your business.”

“So he should be sharp?”

“Maybe?” You gave her an honest glance.

“Weird mutant stuff.”

“Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not! Mutants are fine, but they’re also weird! They don’t follow human or animal rules. They’re their own thing! Like that Hippo guy!”

“True…” You hadn’t seen Hypno in a while and wondered how he was doing.

“Are the others spikey?”

“Not that I’ve seen… Wait, no. Raph is very spiky.”

“That’s the one Shrek gets along with?”

“Call him something else!”

“Shrek fucks!”

“Stop saying that!”

Coral laughed so hard she had to stumble against a planter to catch her breath.

“You just had to figure it out.” You grouched.

“Aw come on, I’m gonna throw you a great baby shower.”

You startled and tried to hide the reaction away.

She gave a vowel of understanding. “That’s too far ahead to plan.”

“We can plan…” You spoke softly. “If we want. Buy clothes and everything, but there’s always a chance…?”

She stepped in front of you and looked at you clearly. “It’s scary.”

“Yeah.” You gave her an exhausted look.

“You want to live it up. You were both going through it and now you’re in this waiting pattern.”

“Sure.”

“Should we… not talk about it?”

“No!” You reached out to her unconsciously.

She looked over your hand and gave you a high five.

You chuffed.

She smiled.

“I want to talk about it. Especially with someone outside the group. I want to… get excited. I do want you to throw me a baby shower. I want to play the stupid games, but maybe not the shitty diaper one. I want to pick out colors… I want… I want to tell everyone and celebrate.”

She bumped you as she saddled up to her side. “Let’s pretend.”

“Pretend what?”

“That we aren’t talking about your seed and something else.”

You studied her.

“How’s your son?”

You blinked a few times. “Shelly?”

“Yeah. How’s he taking it? He’s gotta know with his creepy cameras.”

“He’s not creepy.” You rolled your eyes.

“He’s a little creepy.”

“He’s not great with boundaries.” You offered.

“Creepy.” She grinned.

You shook your head. “He’s listening and takes full offense.”

Your tech gauntlet buzzed twice.

“You’re too old, dude.” Coral leaned down to tell your wrist. “You gotta leave the nest!”

It buzzed happily in response.

“What’s that mean?” Coral was still hunched and lifted her head up to you.

“It means he’s excited.”

“Weirdo.” She mused. “Well?”

“He’s excited.” You repeated with a different cadence. “He’s gonna be a good big brother.”

“For sure. He’s going to totally walk them to school and then change their grades before pops finds out.”

“Don’t give him ideas.” You scolded your arm.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was curiously silent.

You groaned knowing that meant he was already forming plans.

“If he had a color thing going, what would he have?” Coral asked suddenly.

“Hm?” You watched her straighten up and drink her cup dry.

She waited and shook her container to get a little more.

“Oh, you mean how Donnie has his purple mask? I guess Shelly would be purple too…” You thought. “A hot version like fuschia?”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gave one loud buzz.

“Translate.” Coral said instead of asking.

“He likes that.”

“What’s another?” She had a knowing look on her face.

A small thrill went up your spine, but you turned away to not give it too much time. “We can’t pick for them. They should decide for themselves.”

“Who?”

“No one.” You shot her a look.

She had a lazy smile plastered sideways on her face.

“Something light?” You whispered shyly.

“Lilac?” She similarly lowered her volume.

A picture of a baby wrapped up in soft lavender appeared in your mind’s eye and you tried not to overly gush.

“A nice wine color.” She offered.

Your image shifted to a toddler bumbling around with an eggplant colored blanket.

You thread your arm through Coral’s and snuffed out your excitement with a whine.

She leaned into you.

“It’ll go good. Whatever you pick. Your family photos will make me want to gag.”

“Matching sweater Christmas cards.”

“Ugh, I’m nauseous.”

“We’ve never done it, but Donnie would love coordinating outfits.”

“He would.” Coral opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out.

You squeezed her. “More? Listen to me drone on about all of it?”

“What are crazies for?”

You looked at her. “I’m sorry for insinuating you were like your mom.”

“Thank you!” She huffed and pulled you to keep walking. “Drink your smoothie. We’re signing up for Pilates.”

“What?!”

“Yup! It helps to do it with a buddy. That was always my plan! I lied about the dessert thing!”

You stumbled in Coral’s locked limb. “I d-don’t understand!”

“An exercise class! I was tricking you into going to one with me!”

“The smoothies…!?” You didn’t quite follow her logic.

“I’m… I don’t know! I’m trying to eat better or… something…”

You looked over her shape for a moment and felt suspicions douse you. “Wait, I know this. Okay, who is it? Who do you want to look hot for?”

“I’m already hot.” She grouched.

“Coral.”

“I don’t know! No one! I’m fine!” She veered down a street. “Your stupid gym is this way, right?”

It was and you were a little miffed that you hadn’t realized how close you were to it sooner.

She huffed as she led.

“Who's’ even around you? The only people who can stand you are our friends!”

“Shut up!” She sneered.

“And that’s not even long term!” You continued your tease. “The only people who have survived that are me and Nels!”

Her sudden silence was deafening.

“Nelson.”

Her eyes grew fearfully wide.

“Ew, it’s Nelson!”

“It’s not!” She hissed and rounded on you.

“You’ve been living together for a while! Did something happen!?”

“What colors are you painting a room that just so happens to house babies!?”

“There’s no plans to paint. If there was a crib, which there isn’t, it would theoretically go in a corner of a bedroom that’s totally not mine. We only plan to move when whoever grows some. We’re not getting a house unless it’s a sure thing and it’s been years, Coral!”

“Exactly and he was with what’s her face for like 8 months.”

“Uh… Susan… or something like that.”

Coral stopped to drum up suspense before she snarled, “Susan!”

You nodded ferociously in time.

Together you moved in your hatred of this random woman you had never met.

“He got into health stuff after the breakup.”

“He always picks up something to cope.” You knew his track record.

“Blue bitch goes to your gym, doesn’t he?”

“I guess? I haven’t seen him in forever.”

Coral hummed.

“What are you thinking now?!”

“Nothing.” She sang her dismissal.

You ruminated over how she probably had about as many suspicious cues as you. “Please!”

“He’s into that stuff! Maybe I should ask him! I don’t know!”

“Coral!”

“Coulda fucked him at your wedding, but I was good.”

“You were with Nelson the whole time, what the fuck are you talking about?!” Nerves had you clucking.

“We danced once.” She shrugged.

“I can’t believe I have to string these words together, but please do not fuck Leo so you can get back at Nels!!”

She reached the door of your gym and turned to you with an all too obvious grin.

You chased her for the game of it, but you knew the truth.

She wouldn’t, but admitting that sort of thing was an insecurity.

You met her at the desk, thankfully scanned the gym to see there was no offensive slider around and you both signed up for weekly classes. Throughout it all Coral soothed, and after passing off a card to pay, you were back on the street.

“It’s okay to be hung up on him.” You tried as gently as you could.

“Fuck off.” She had no heat to her.

You hugged her side.

She grumbled a soft, “Gross.”

You also felt her hug back.

You kept it short and pulled her. “You’ll have to tell him. He’s too oblivious to figure it out even if you walked into his room naked.”

“One towel slip! One time!” She went on clear offense.

You snickered once before laughing. “You are so bad at this!”

“Hey! Look at your track record!”

You waved your ring in her face.

“You just had to simp for a psycho to get that.” She slapped your hand away.

“It worked out.”

“Yeah… After how long? How much?” She gestured over you before pausing. “How… are all your injuries?”

You immediately tucked an arm across your torso to hold one of the scars on your chest where feeling had never quite returned. “They won’t get in the way with the baby. Might be hard on my leg with the extra weight, but we’ll see…”

“Good…” She doted lightly before sighing. “I’ll talk to him.”

“That’s fast.” You bobbed to attention, but kept holding yourself. “I usually have to nag you for at least five days.”

“Three months.” She spoke your curse.

“Bullshit!”

“I don’t want to be some rebound. Three months and we’ll both come clean.”

You stared at her.

She was obviously determined.

She was equally concerned.

It was scary.

You knew that well.

You held out your hand to shake.

She took your hand in a firm grip.

It was one solid agreement and you were released for reality.

“You’ll never last in Pilates.”

“I could!” Coral huffed. “You’re lucky you got knocked up! I was gonna make you do Zumba! But no!”

“You could? Will you though? And what was your plan there anyway? Smoothies are like the worst thing to butter someone up with!”

“I can’t decide if that makes me want to quit early or shove it in your face when I beat you at it.”

“How do you beat someone at Pilates?!” You chortled.

“It’s way easier than beating someone at Zumba!”

She regaled you in a bunch of fake ways to cheat some imaginary system and you finished your drink.

💜 NEXT 💜

This has week has been a year. Shout you to my dearest betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#softspotfic #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt Donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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scribomaniac333 · 27 days ago

Note

Do you make more than one character per request? If not, you can choose which one you prefer to write, you’re the master wink wink

Anyhow, maybe a partner that likes hands for Nanami and Higuruma? (Separately) bonus point if they like to trace the veins on their hands ☺️

jjk x reader who specially likes hands.

featuring. nanami kento & higuruma hiromi (separately) || headcannon.

warnings. none.

notes. apologies for the wait, i had to research a bit.

nanami kento.

it all started when you traced his veins and tendons, that's when it clicked for him.

sure, he did notice how you preferred to hold his hand in crowded palces to not lose him, grab his index finger when you were nervous, kissed his hands when you two were alone.

but it didn't exactly striked as a preference, until now.

nanami is a reserved type, being so stuck on the future made him forget to live the present, now he struggles to show you proper affection.

so, he decided to do something nice for you.

out of nowhere, you noticed how his hands were softer and smelled so good.

it was the new pocket sized hand cream he bought, you confirmed the suspicion when, in one of your dates, you saw him take if off his front pocked before he could see you coming.

judging nanami, he didn't even know it was your favourite scent, he just picked the one with your favourite colour. he'd have a hard time admitting it if you asked.

a few weeks later, you noticed he had bought some pair of leather gloves, saying that it bothered him that his hands were getting calloused from work.

it didn't bother him, it bothered you, and you knew he got those just for you.

in a general sense, he would do these little things here and there just to indulge you in your tastes, but it would take a while to get him actively talking about it.

one day it would accidentally slip, when he says, without much thought: why aren't you holding my hand today?

he was so sure he only thought that, but the expression on your face was too priceless for it to just be a thought. you one hundred percent heard him. now he can't pretend to don't know about it anymore, you've never seen nanami so flustered before.

higuruma hiromi.

hiromi is a more blunt one, after noticing you playing around with hands over the time, almost if you were glued to it, he just asked what's the deal.

not to say he was pleasantly surprised, with a bit of disbelief, but pleased nonetheless.

that surely got him love drunk. average hiromi, a guy who wakes up and goes to sleep thinking about his work has such a beauty admiring a part of him.

for the first time in a while, you noticed higuruma actively avoiding eye contact with you, with that he also became more fidgety: playing with his tie, passing his fingers through his hair, but he would never take his hand away from you.

if you hold it, it's yours until you decided to let go.

because of his job, sometimes his hands are dirty with ink from his pens or markers; he once mentioned how he doesn't like how you get dirty because of him. after that, you notice he carries a little container of alcohol around his belt loops, so you won't get your hands dirty.

a few days after that, he suddenly appeared with bandaids on the joints of his index and middle finger, he told you it was because he didn't wanted to get a writer's callous, claiming it would ruin your experience.

at some point, you noticed how he keeps doing his work with one hand — you are holding the other — and how this feels a bit off, you take a time to analyse him and notice that you're holding his dominant hand.

if you point it out, he's going to give you an awkward laugh and spill the beans: he has been training how to use the computers and write with his other hand so you never have to move from your spot.

but without a doubt, the most flustering thing he did was, now he can almost sense when you're about to hold him; he got used to your mannerisms, after all. when he notices you're getting closer he starts flapping his hand around and then openning and closing it with force.

a bit weirded out by his behaviour, he explains without need for asking: this makes the veins pop more, and i know you like them; he tells you that without a single drop of shame in his face. you can already feel your cheeks getting warmer.

#words tag #jjk x reader tag #jjk tag #nanami x reader tag #nanami kento tag #higuruma x reader tag #higuruma hiromi tag #headcannon tag

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yandere-yearnings · 2 months ago

Note

I HAD THE BIGGEST EPIPHANY!!!!

Imagine reader colouring on Laurent’s tattoos!!!!!

NONNIE THIS IDEA IS PERFECT!!!!! i've been thinking abt this ever since you sent it in actually🥺🩷 pls assume skin-safe markers are being used here❗❗ also, this kinda got off topic and turned into some sort of comfort drabble which i apologise for, but i hope it's still okay😭💕

Red and green looked good on him. You sat back with a content smile, admiring your work. The grand dragon that had been inked intricately into tan skin seemed to coil out towards you now that it was coloured in. You wanted to give it a name, hand reaching out, tracing over lines with a gentle glide, only to have Laurent's light laughter bring your attention back to him.

"That tickles, Y/N," the lower half of his face was covered by the book he'd been reading, but you could see the smile in his eyes. He tapped your wrist, "how am I supposed to concentrate?"

"Ah, my apologies," you uncapped another marker, "rude of me to be disturbing the boss while he's relaxing. Continue, continue. I'll try not to be touchy on the job."

"Oh, you're thinking of it as a job now?" One thick brow arched, Laurent put his reading aside and sat up. The movement had the nib sprawling, blue over borders that spoiled your work and had you swatting at him.

"Hey!"

Laurent chuckled, and you couldn't find it in yourself to be mad at him. "Sorry, didn't mean to jostle you. You can wipe it off, right?" His fingers dipped down, smeared the pigment into the ridges of his abdomen until it was no longer visible. "See? Good as new."

"I guess..." you trailed off, poking his side. Though the scar tissue had mostly been covered up, you could still see it if you looked close enough. Reminders of the dangers that circled around him every day, that these peaceful moments didn't really hold any permanence. It suddenly had you melancholy.

"My eyes aren't in my ribs, y'know?" Laurent pulled your head up, and maybe he saw the sadness in your eyes, maybe he just knew, but his voice came out even softer. "Where's your mind going?"

Sincerity faced you, kind and gentle; it was a struggle not to feel its warmth. "Bad places," you answered.

"Without me?" Strong arms wrapped around you, brought you to a broad chest and beating heart that was all for you. "Don't do that." You dropped your pen to cling to him, aching to tell him not to leave again in the morning — to stay with you, even if you knew you weren't the only person he had to care for. "Take me with you," he pulled back, beamed at you, "wherever it is, I can protect you."

You should've been the one to say and do all of this. Instead, in his embrace, you cried, and Laurent stroked your back, held you through it so easily.

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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year ago

Text

The Trap - Introduction

Worlds Collide Collection

BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader apocalypse au

summary: Welcome to the apocalypse. This is the introduction to the new world you're about to enter. Let's see what your life is like. Do me a favor and be open, and maybe there'll even be a handsome stranger to meet...

a/n: so this is heavily influenced by The 100 and Love and Monsters and I guess also Maze Runner, if it seems chaotic at times, that’s because it is. With that being said: have fun reading i’d love to hear what you think

word count: 2.2k

warnings: grumpy/sunshine, mentions of death and misery, loneliness, dystopia, nuclear weapon and monster stuff, obnoxiously optimistic reader (give her a chance okay)

collection playlist | main masterlist | collection masterlist

May 10th 2039

Hey Book,

Here are the things that happened today:

found a new pen (that’s great because this one is running out)

watched the acid fog from the building with the tall glass roof (pretty dope if you ask me!)

went to the west border and saw new tracks

finally got the nose right on that Gordon Ramsey sketch (it’s finished, yay!)

gave Berty a makeover

The day has been pretty sweet. I’m thinking of going out tonight to watch the meteor shower. Hope I don’t die.

Anyway, see ya tomorrow!

~You know who :)

The notebook closed with a loud thud that made even you twitch. Your eyes went to the basketball on the shelf above the makeshift bed.

“Sorry, Berty.” The ball didn’t respond, obviously. Its plastic wig shifted slightly further over the marker eyes, making it seem all crooked and funny looking. You weren’t crazy. You just preferred not to talk to yourself.

A look at the window told you that it had gone dark by now. The weather conditions weren’t too great for another acid fog so your plan was good to go. You grabbed your backpack and headed out to the cliffs where you had the best view. Ever since the apocalypse started, there were a lot more stars visible at night. Half the population had been wiped out with the Hydra nukes and the rest played survivor with the mutated animals roaming the earth due to the atomic bombs that had been fired on that day.

You remembered it vividly actually: Bright beams shooting through the sky and then it rained down like hellfire. Green glowing stripes covered the horizon from where you looked down onto the city.

The world hadn’t been that great to begin with to be honest. People were suffering, water and food supplies had shifted into the negative, and don’t even get started on climate. Humans had collectively decided that their planet was going to waste anyway. So, where was the harm in a little more destruction, right?

It’s not like you or any other normal citizen had had a chance to decide on another outcome anyway. The united governments of the world had been infiltrated by an organization with fucked up values and no sense for common human decency. They didn't care that their bombs would wipe out half of the world’s population. Hell, you’d be surprised if they even considered this an argument for their ‘cons’ column. But, hey, it had one benefit after all: if this was the worst it could get, there was nothing left to lose.

You kicked open the door of the buried school bus that had become your temporary home for a while now. Temporary in the sense that there was no way of knowing what would happen or when something would attack. You tried to make them all as cozy as possible though. Berty was a big part of that attempt. The painted basketball had become a loyal companion in your ever-shifting habitats. And even though it was a pain to transport a so unfortunately shaped object, you would never dare leave it behind.

The humid evening air hit you like a broken fan. It was springtime, but that had stopped to matter many years ago. The weather merely shifted between scorching hot days and bearable nights. Though the wintertime was making being outside a little more doable. The trees hung low over your head when you stepped past the traps you had laid out around your home. You lived at the edge of the forest, which wasn’t the most secure place of all the ones you’ve had so far, but it was a little cooler. Most of the dangerous things out there hid several miles from the tree lines anyway.

A dark sky stretched over your head as your feet dangled off the cliff by the forest. You were munching off an old can of beans that you had found on your stroll through the cities as the bright streams of light shot through the sky. It was beautiful and thrilling. Teetering you on the edge of remembering the very day that made this whole shit show go down. The sky was lit up back then too, but it wasn’t half as beautiful as this.

You could have sat like this for hours. The meteors wouldn’t stop passing until the sun rose, but there was a danger of being tired in broad daylight in this world. You couldn’t risk strolling through the morning with half a working brain. Especially because the morning brought a routine acid fog with its sunlight. You took a look at the tactical watch on your wrist. It was 3:30 am - Probably best to head back to safety.

As you stepped through the dried ground, you hummed a song from the old record in your bus. It didn’t work great and it was broken in several places which had you always listening to a slightly messed-up remix of the actual song, but you liked it anyway. Close to the bus, however, there was rustling from the side. Your body went into surviving mode immediately. There was a routine: hide, listen, escape. Only idiots fought whatever was out there.

So that’s what you did.

The tree you hid behind was wide enough to cover you whole, which gave you easy access to sneak your head past the trunk and see what was making the noise. It came from about 20 feet before the buried bus, but there was nothing to be seen. The rustling continued though and as you stepped forwards from your cover, you noticed that it came from underneath. Something had fallen into your trap! It was foolproof of course, but you still approached it with care, fearfully and intrigued all together as to what you had caught this time... well, it was the first time here to be perfectly honest. Even more exciting to say the least.

Your feet crunched the dried leaves beneath you as a mumbled curse reached your ears. That was weird. Last time you checked, monsters didn’t talk. You were even more surprised, however, to find a broad man tangled in the hole you had dug outside your home. Of course, a person had been stupid enough to walk into your trap. You had been so excited about something more dangerous.

The man had not noticed you standing above the hole just yet. He was still working with the net you had splayed out beneath the fallen leaves, too busy cursing his life away in the dirty opening. You cleared your throat after a minute, though. And as amusing as the whole scene had been, the man looking up at you wiped the smirk off your face immediately. He was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes gleamed up in the moonshine, a deep frown on his face as soon as the surprise to see you had faded.

“You got caught in my trap.” You said blankly, still captured by his face. You had not seen another person in nearly a month. It was strange, to say the least. That’s why you weren’t really expecting your mouth to say anything smart.

“This is supposed to be a trap?” The brown-haired man huffed before cutting through the last rope to free him from his restraints.

“Well you can’t get out, can you?” There was a short silence in which you caught the slightest hint of disbelief in his eyes.

“If you wanted to catch a monster with that, you wouldn’t be making such snarky comments. It’s barely deep enough for them.”

Anger crept up your neck. Who was this stranger to not only fall into your - awesome - intruder trap but also criticize your work even though he was the idiot stuck in it? “Why do you think I wanted to trap monsters? Maybe my trap was for people, which, in that case, it is brilliant.”

“It’s stupid,” he grumbled.

“Oh come on give me a little credit, I only had spare materials.”

There was the confused glare again, and you couldn’t really place it just yet.“Yeah, yeah. Trap’s great now get me out.”

“That wasn’t genuine.” Your arms crossed before your chest, but you couldn’t hide the small smile forming on your lips. This was fun.

“You know what’s gonna be genuine? My foot in your ass once I get out of here.” Oh, not so fun.

“That's not a really good way to make me help you, you know?” You were about to step away when you heard him sigh deeply beneath you. A triumphant smirk appeared on your face before you held your head over the hole again.

“Can you please help me out of this genius trap?” The Brunette was rolling his eyes, but it was good enough for you - after all, you didn’t want to make enemies just yet.

“Why of course! I love people that appreciate good handy work!”

You nodded appreciatively and reached for the net he held your way. It took a little bit to get enough momentum but then he jumped and dug his boots into the soil walls and within seconds, the stranger was pulled up from the ground.

“Drop the bullshit.”

“What bullshit?”

Now that he was standing in front of you like that, you noticed how tall he was, and built, too. It was a wonder you had managed to pull his weight out of there now that you thought about it. He was really handsome, too. His dark hair fell into his face and his eyes were bright blue, staring down at you with a gloomy expression. It didn’t scare you, though. You were more... fascinated by him, really.

He looked at you for a second, and the gears were literally turning behind his eyes. But he caught himself quickly, shaking his head and making his way out of the forest. You weren’t ready to have him leave, though. It was rare to meet people now, and this one seemed entertaining enough.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Away.” You barely heard him over the heavy footsteps he pressed into the ground.

“You can’t go!”

That made him stop. The stranger turned around with an unfazed expression, his shoulders hanging low with annoyance, but you wouldn’t let up. “And why’s that?”

Shit, you hadn’t thought it would get this far. Your hands wrung the net as you stood there looking for an explanation. But the guy turned around with a condescending clicking of his tongue. “Wait! You haven’t told me your name.” You shuffled over to him in haste, you steps faster than his, but it was difficult to catch up to him, still.

“I don’t have to.”

“You do, actually. It’s a rule.” He stopped again, and you almost fell at the abrupt halt.

“A rule,” he repeated in disbelief, his face still unimpressed, but he was quite pretty this way.

You smiled. “Yup. You fall into my trap, you tell me your name.” To be honest, you were a little proud at how fast you had come up with the idea, but it seemed the stranger was still not impressed. He just crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at you almost amused.

“That's not a rule.”

“It’s my rule.” Was that a tiny smile creeping onto his features? You liked it - looked way better than those broody anger lines.

Then he huffed and shook his head. “Bucky.”

“Gesundheit,” you answered immediately, but that seemed to stick that annoyed look right back onto his handsome face.

“No. Bucky is my name.” Oops.

“Oh. Sorry.” You tried it out in your head, then. And it suited him quite nicely. It was a little odd but witty - just like him.

“Whatever.” His arms untangled before his broad chest and Bucky looked ready to leave again. You didn’t want that, though.

“Would... uh.. would you like to come in?” Why were you so nervous all of a sudden? Your hands were a little sweaty, but talking to someone that actually responded felt so good...

You earned another look with that question. Really, you’d already gotten used to those in the three minutes you knew him - seemed to be his M.O.

“What?” He wasn’t confused this time, at least you didn’t think so. It sounded more like he hadn’t heard you.

“You know... be my guest.” A bright smile spread on your lips, but Bucky wasn’t buying it, and frankly, you were running out of ideas to keep him here. Normally, people were happy to see others around here, but Bucky? He didn’t seem to like talking very much.

“Sorry, gotta go.”

Your eyes found the ground as you heard his steps distancing from you again. “Oh, ok.” You mumbled to yourself, and with a last wash of hope, you called out again. “Will I see you again?”

“No.” He was already by the tree line, now. And Bucky didn’t seem like the type of person to run back the distance in slow-mo like you had seen in those old films.

It didn’t discourage you, though. “Okay, you know where to find me!”

“Not gonna visit you!”

“See ya soon!” You waved and bit back a triumphant smile when you heard him chuckle before he disappeared out of the woods.

Hey, Book, It’s me again.

And, man, what a great day!

more…

Wanna be added to the taglist?

@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv @almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @supersecretblogformytreasures @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangir1 @simpxinnie @bisexual-buckyfan @blackhawkfanatic

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mabelstone · 1 year ago

Text

Teachers Pet

matt stone x reader

summary: part four of Professor Stone.

words: 2144

note: i’m not sure if this is what you wanted, but i felt like writing some angst for this one. minor warnings of explicit content. minor humiliation kink and consensual choking.

my absolute fav, mean!dom matt.

here's my masterlist for the previous chapters.

enjoy <3

The way he looked at you that lesson made you feel sick. You walked in and sat at your usual spot, your professor entering just on time as always. Instead of chirping his usual, “morning,” to the class, he dropped his things onto his desk and sighed. He glanced in your direction briefly and you smiled at him. He quickly looked away, expression not changing at all. Okay, maybe he had a bad morning? You knew he had a good night, so what changed in the last 12 hours?

“I’ll wait,” he sighed grumpily, waiting for the class’ murmurs to die down. He looked down and fiddled with his pen as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. The class eventually got the hint, the room quickly growing silent. “Great. Today we’re revising chapter 30. Your exam is in two weeks, so I want there to be no talking, and everyone is to pay attention.”

His tone was flat and his face was expressionless. He grabbed out a whiteboard marker and began writing equations on the board. Your classmates looked at each other in confusion, raising their eyebrows, mouthing, “I don’t know?” at one another. The class listened, nobody even whispering to their friends.

You were so confused as to why he was acting this way, but you decided that you didn’t want to make it worse. Yet, on the other hand… You could have some fun with this.

“Alright. Let’s see who studied.” He mischievously smirked, turning to face the silent class. “Who can explain this equation to me?”

Some students raised their hands unconfidently, the professor pointing to a random student. They explained the equation in a voice slightly too soft for his liking.

“Speak up,” he huffed, leaning on the edge of his desk. You knew it was fucked up, but there was something so sexy about him being so pissed. The student cleared their throat before perfectly explaining the equation, you of course barely understood as your tutoring sessions didn’t consist of much tutoring.

“Good. That’s one of you that actually listens,” he chuckled to himself dryly, continuing to scribble more scenarios onto the board. Everyone nervously copied down what he was writing, but you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off him.

You sat forward on your elbows, admiring the way he used his hands a little too much when he explained things, the way he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair or trailed his fingers over his stubble.

He rolled his eyes when he saw you were the only one not doing your work, quietly walking over to your desk. “This is why you don’t perform well,” he seethed, eyes dark and angry. He spoke only loud enough so you could hear.

“I’m sorry sir, I-“

“Save it,” he cut you off, angrily opening your book for you and roughly placing your pen in your hand. “You need to try, Y/N, or I won’t help you anymore.” He threatened as he began to walk away.

“Oh please, we both know you don’t wanna give that up.” You retorted back like a smart ass, making him stop in his tracks. You really shouldn’t have said that. He turned back to glare at you, the anger inside him only growing fiercer when he saw the cocky smirk on your lips.

He shook his head and walked back up to the front to write a new equation on the board. “Okay!” He clapped his hands together loudly, startling the entire class. “Hmmm..” He pretended to scan the class to ‘randomly’ pick a student, finger pressed to his lip. “Y/N, can you come up and complete this please?”

Your heart dropped when he fired the same cocky smirk your way, waiting expectantly for you to get out of your seat. You did, your legs nearly giving out on the short walk to the whiteboard. He handed you the marker with a deadpan stare, motioning to the board.

Your face was hot, you couldn’t believe he would do this to you. You picked the wrong day to give him attitude. You took a deep breath and uncapped the marker, shaky hands travelling to the board. You filled in the equation to the best of your ability, your professors' stare boring holes into peripheries. “I-I’m stuck,” you spoke to him hushed, giving him a pleading look.

“What was that?” He asked loudly, eyes gleaming meaner than before.

You closed your eyes and sighed before repeating yourself slightly louder, “I’m not sure what comes next.”

“Maybe you should ask a classmate,” he feigned sympathy, his lips quirking up into a condescending grin.

You turned to the class, fighting hard to not tear up from embarrassment. You opened your mouth but no words came out. The whole class felt bad for you, shocked at your professors' unprofessionalism.

He sighed for what seemed like the millionth time that lesson and turned to the other students. “Can anyone please help her?”

“I will,” one of the nice boys you’d interacted with a few times spoke up, walking up to you with apologetic eyes. He took the marker and explained to you and the class what came next and how he got the answer.

He was quite cute, bleached blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. You knew he was doing a film degree and also taking this class for the extra credits. You couldn’t remember his name for the life of you, though. He turned to you and smiled once finishing, placing the pen back in your hands.

“Thank you,” you blushed, smiling wide at his kind gesture. “That was so sweet.”

You both walked back to your seats, exchanging another smile before sitting back down. Matt’s plan to humiliate you had worked, and then backfired on him completely.

As the class ended, you grabbed your things and began heading out; a big change from staying back after every lesson. You looked back at your professor who’s eyes were locked on you, following you to the nice boy from earlier.

“Um, thank you again for that,” you smiled sweetly, gently placing your hand on his arm. “You really saved me there, I owe you one.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he chuckled, leaning in to whisper, “I don’t know why he did that, he’s an asshole.”

You laughed in agreement, unaware of the jealousy boiling in Matt’s stomach.

“If you ever need a hand with studying, I’m happy to help.” He offered with a genuine smile.

“Thank you! Here, give me your number,” you handed your phone to him, Matt’s hands balling into fists at his side. Trey was his name. You texted a smiley face to his number and thanked him again before saying your goodbyes.

Before you were able to reach the door, your professor spoke up. “Y/N.”

You turned around to face him, letting the door shut behind you. “Yes?” You grumbled, arms folding in front of you.

“Come here,” he commanded, pulling a chair up by his desk.

You cursed your legs for obediently dragging you to the front of the hall, stopping yourself in front of his desk.

“Care to explain what the fuck that was?” He growled, his stance mirroring yours but somehow... angrier?

“What do you mean,” you laughed exasperatedly, “you mad your little stunt to embarrass me didn’t work?”

“You really need to watch that mouth of yours,” he warned, stepping toward you. You felt intimidated, but tried not to show any sign of it. “It’s gonna get you in trouble some day.”

“Well maybe I’ll just get help from Trey from now on,” you spat back, legs weakening as he stepped even closer, face only inches from yours now.

“Don’t forget who marks your papers.”

You scoffed in disbelief, taking a step back from him. Amusement painted your face when you realised, “you’re jealous!”

“I’m not jealous,” he rolled his eyes, leaning back against his desk. “But I’m not gonna fuck you while somebody else is.”

As toxic as it may be, this new side of Matt turned you on like crazy. Seeing him all riled up over exchanging numbers with someone… you couldn’t imagine how he’d react if you did something actually worth being jealous over.

“Why do you even care?” You laughed in his face, trying to ignore the arousal forming between your hips. You stepped toward him again, close enough that you could feel his breath on your lips. “You act like you don’t even like me. I think you just want to fulfil your sick fantasies with me.”

He didn’t like that. He grabbed your throat and flipped you around, the back of your hips roughly slamming into the desk behind you. A strangled moan escaped your lips as he towered over you with rage.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that,” he growled, pushing your back onto the desk and separating your legs before stepping between them.

You whimpered under his grip, wrapping your legs around his waist. You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to capture him in a heated kiss. “So desperate,” he tsked, pulling away.

He let go of your throat and pulled your shorts down, revealing white lace panties with a pink bow stitched into them. He prodded at the wet patch forming in the front, pulling them to the side and licking a stripe up your clit without warning. You gasped at the feeling, lifting yourself up on your elbows to watch him. He looked breathtaking. his eyelashes fluttering as he focused on making you feel good. You weren’t gonna last long, not with a sight like that. He moved his head down slightly to thrust his skilled tongue inside of you, his nose brushing your clit in just the right way. Once he added his fingers, it was over for you.

You felt your breathing pick up, your whines growing higher in pitch. “Professor,” you moaned, thighs trembling as they barricaded his skull in place. Just as you were about to finish, he removed his fingers and that godly tongue, stepping back.

You whined in frustration, on the verge of tears for the second time. He simply shushed you with a smirk, beginning to unbuckle his belt.

He pulled out his cock and you went limp. You’d been imaging how he’d feel for a while, and now you were getting impatient. He spat on his hand, stroking himself before lining his cock up with your hole, a hand forcefully gripping your hip. You roughly gripped his shoulders, begging, “please, sir, please.”

With a grin, he slowly pushed himself in, letting out a low groan at the feeling of your wet, tight entrance. He slowly thrusted for a moment, picking up his pace once you’d both adjusted.

Your eyes began rolling back, screaming obscenities. He was quick to place a hand over your lips, mouthing shut up with a stern look. You whimpered under his touch, rhythmically moving your hips with his. Hand still over your mouth, he laid his body forward, practically on top of you as he annunciated with every thrust, “don’t… you… dare… disrespect me… again.”

He was so thick, stretching you wonderfully as a tear rolled down your cheek, the ecstasy becoming overwhelming. He thought you looked beautiful like this, eyebrows knitted together, switching between wide eyed when he’d hit your g spot, and eyes screwed tightly shut when the pleasure became too intense.

He uncovered your mouth, demanding, “apologise.”

If he wasn’t balls deep in you right now, you would’ve laughed in his face and told him to shut it. But, you were too worried he’d pull out and end this pleasure train you were on.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered through tears, nails digging deep into his biceps.

“Say it like you mean it, pretty girl,” he commanded, thrusting into you deeper, biting his finger to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

You felt the familiar heat pooling in your stomach, and you were close to losing yourself all over him.

“I’m sorry,” you cried, his hand reaching down to your clit, tracing small circles into it, pushing you over the edge. You came undone around him, your pussy pulsating hard as you continued whimpering through your orgasm, eyes screwed shut as you chanted, “I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry.”

Without thinking, he came inside you, burrying his face into your shoulder, biting down as he did. You were both seeing stars, trying hard to steady your breathing.

He pulled out slowly, watching the mixture of his cum and your slick drip out of you deliciously.

“And that shit you said earlier,” he began, voice deep and husky, “about me not liking you,” he pulled his pants back up and redid his belt. You sat up, cheeks flushed, pulling your underwear back on. “You’ve always been my favourite.”

#matt stone #matt stone x reader #south park #trey parker #trey parker x reader #baseketball #matt stone smut #doug remer #doug remer x reader #matt and trey #professor!au #mean!dom matt stone

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giggly-squiggily · 7 months ago

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Inked (Big Windup)

Heyo! Guess who's back with Big Windup Content! :D I had this little ol' thing sitting in my WIP for weeks before realizing I should finish it up and post it lols, and here I am to do so! I hope y'all like it! :D

CW: Swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@cupcake-spice13 @intheticklecloset (I know you're not on the Taglist but BAM! Baseball tickles >:D)

Summary: Tajima after writing a massive "1" on Mihashi's back decides he should do it for Abe too. The other disagrees, leading to a rather giggly compromise.

“Hold still! Lemme write it!”

“No way! I told you I don’t need it!”

Tajima was back at it again, a black marker in hand as he tried once more to mark Abe. He figured the clean up hitter had let it go after a while, but nope- he was ever insistent on drawing a massive number “2” on his back!

“Why are you resisting so much? It’ll make Mihashi feel good!” Tajima was halfway to his target, eyes dancing as he flinched each way Abe tried to escape. “Don’t you want to be in a team with him?”

“I’m already in a team with him- I don’t need a number to prove it!” An opening had appeared! Abe made a dash for it-

“GOTCHA!” Tajima cried, leaping at him and sending them both flailing into the field. “Now hold still!”

“Tajima, I already told you, I don’t need a number!”

“Come on- think of Mihashi!”

“It’ll never come out!”

“It's an erasable marker! It’s good for clothes!”

“Tajima!”

“Oh okay- if you’re really against it.” Abe heard the marker being recapped, a small sigh of relief escaping his lips.

“Can I at least draw a “2” on you with my finger then? No ink, I promise.” Tajima asked, a clear puppy eyed pout in his voice. Abe closed his eyes as he pressed his face into the field.

“Give me the marker.” It appeared before him. Alongside a second one. Abe turned a bit to raise a brow.

“You always need a backup.” Tajima shrugged with a sheepish laugh. The catcher rolled his eyes before flopping forward again.

“Fine. But JUST with your finger. My mom will be pissed if I come home with sharpie ink all over my uniform.”

“I told you, it was erasable! I only use a sharpie for Mihashi.” Tajima giggled as he got comfortable, sitting up and positioning his finger. “Ready?”

“Sure-” Abe got out before immediately wincing, startled by the tingling sensation of Tajima’s finger running down his spine. “Mm! T-Tajima, lighten up!”

“Does it hurt?” The cleanup hitter asked, doing so. To Abe’s dismay, it only made it worse.

“N-No it ti-ihihihiihckles!” The catcher yelped before dissolving into laughter, fists curling against the grassy field as he kicked out a leg, trying his best not to throw the other off. Maybe all that time spent with Mihashi made him more accepting to tickles? “Tahahajima, huuhuhurry uhuhuhup!”

“No way..” Tajima gaped down at him with wide eyes. Then he grinned. “Did I just discover a new tickle spot on the Abe Takaya? How lucky am I?”

“Doohohohn’t say my nahahame like thahahhat! Gehahaha, if yohoohu’re dohohone, get ohoh-EEHEHEH!” The catcher arched even more when Tajima switched from tracing to scratching, dancing one finger up and down the invisible “2” he drew on his friend’s back. “Doohohohn’t doohohohoho thahahhahat, yohohoohu ahahhahhahass!”

“What? I gotta fill it in! Can’t go around having a outline- no one will be able to distinguish it from a number or a pe-”

“Iihihihihihit’s nohohohohohot ehehehehheven viihihihihihisblehhehehe! Whahahhat doohohohoes it mahahahhatter if ihihihihit’s fiihihihilled in? Nohoohoh ohohohone’s gohoohhohonna knoohohohow!”

“I will! And I’ll always be haunted by my unfinished work! Be still- my canvas; the artist is at work!” Tajima doubled his scratching, increasing Abe’s giggle fits and yelps of laughter tenfold. “Now that the actual number is done, let’s add some color!”

“TAHAHHAJIIHIHMA!” The catcher all but shrieked when his ribs were suddenly grabbed, fingers pressing in at both sides. “WHAHAHAT HAHAHPPEHEHED TO THE NUUHUHUMBER?”

“Relax, I’m getting my pens! They’re somewhere in here…” Tajima continued to “search” for his pens within Abe’s ribcage, narrowing in on the terrible spots along his upper and lower sets just to keep him laughing. “Man, I really need to organize this space better. They’re all over the place in there! Abe, you gotta stop moving so much; the pens keep rolling away!”

“STHAHAHP FUHUUHUCKING TIIHIHIHCKLING MEHEHEH THEHEHEHEHEN!” Abe cried, thrashing like a fish out of water as his worst spots were drilled into. Above him, Tajima giggled like a child, delighted.

“Oo, you’re saying bad words! Bad Abe! Hehehe!” Finally, Tajima pulled his hands back, returning to his spine as he finished putting the last few touches onto his “design”. The tickles died down to a comforting amount, leaving Abe coughing through giggles as he caught his breath. “There we go..and done!”

The catcher let out a huff of air as Tajima climbed off, far too tired to get up and chase him. Around him chatter continued, the boys laughing over the sight or carrying on with whatever conversation they were having prior. Footsteps shuffled into view soon, coming to stand before him.

“A-Abe..I erm, brought you this..”

Something cold and paperlike touched his hand. Abe all but shot up at the water, taking and downing it in one greedy gulp. “You’re a lifesaver, Mihashi.”

The pitcher squeaked with shy pride, cheeks warming as he smiled at his hands. “I’m glad…and erm- I’m sorry about Tajima..I didn’t think he’d try to erm, you know…”

Ah. Abe resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he looked at the markers left abandoned in the grass.

If ONE uniform was kinda stained, maybe his mom wouldn’t be too mad…

“Go get Tajima.” He sighed in resignation, making Mihashi squeak in surprise. “Tell him to use an erasable one, cause if we can’t get it out, I’m kicking his ass.”

“Oh..Oh! Oh, erm- okay!” The pitcher nodded, practically vibrating with joy as he ran to get said clean up hitter. Shaking his head, Abe fell back onto his stomach in the warm grass, accepting his fate.

If it made Mihashi do his best, then let him be inked.

Thanks for reading!

#Big Windup #tickle #tickle fic #squiggily writes the things #abe takaya #tajima yuuichirou #fluff #back tickles for the soul #I had fun writing this one! :3

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moonstarlupinsworld · 7 months ago

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For her and the world [PT. 2]

Ms. Weems X Wednesday X Reader

(Platonic relationship)

TW: Aftermath of poisoning, mentions of death, hospital, past trauma.

A/N: Can you believe it took me over a year to realize that meant "author notes? And I'm in Ravenclaw, imagine that! Anyway, I just want to say I've been working on this for a while but didn't know the right way to portray what I wanted, that's why it took so long, but it's finally here.

Summary: It’s been almost two days since Ms. Thornhill decided to attack. Nevermore was a mess, but the students stopped the fire before things got even worse. But Ms. Weems can’t feel that calmness, not with you still unconscious at the hospital, trying your best to stay alive.

Whoever said that dying was a painless process clearly has lied. The excruciating pain and the burning sensation of your lungs not getting enough air accompanied you as your brain finally detached from anything that could connect it to consciousness. You’ve often tried to imagine this exact moment, especially when you lay in bed, motionless and simply thinking about existence. In your altered mind you thought it was quick, and that as soon as you closed your eyes you entered whatever the afterlife was like.

The reality was you entered some sort of dream. A dream about your life… At least that part was right, your brain decided to show you all the good moments before shutting down forever.

It didn’t take much for the first memory to enter, and it wasn't a good one. You were around five, sitting on the floor with your toys all around your bedroom. Everything was quiet, the cassette mom had left for you still playing in the background.

“Everything you care about will burn to the ground!” you heard someone say in the office, “and in the process, everyone you love will be lost too.”

It sounded like… No, he couldn’t be here, not after saying all those mean things to mom. So you ignored it, trying to find the doll you’d left somewhere so she could sit on the wooden train.

The door barged open, and there he was. His pupils were dilated, and he was sweating, barely blinking like a deer caught in the headlight, he almost looked like a maniac. Before you could react, he rushed to you and grabbed you by the arm in a rough movement, forcing you to stand up. You started crying as he frantically packed many toys in a bag, moving around and grabbing random clothes from your closet, dragging you around.

“We’ll go… safe, I’ll keep you safe”, he whispered, “your mom thinks this school is everything… She didn’t even want you in the first place… I locked her in the office, just to have more time”.

You tried to scream, kick, get out of his forceful grip around your wrist, but you couldn’t. What was he doing to you? He promised never to use his powers on you, he pinky swore.

It was even more stressful to re-watch it from the outside, knowing that you couldn’t help that little kid in front of you.

Thankfully, Larissa had managed to break the door lock, and was quick to use her high heel to knock him out, a clean hit to the head was enough.

“My sweet little child” she whispered, carrying you in her arms, trying to ease your shaky state “There, there… Mom’s here, darling… No one shall harm you again.”

Ever since then, you used that bedroom as an office for any teacher who might need it. You were moved to one of the other three rooms in the small apartment hidden behind her office. And your bedroom was just a playroom now since you hated sleeping on your own again.

After that, all the memories went by quickly. You were around six when they found you covered in Larissa’s makeup, marker doodles all around your clothes, and your hairstyle with new bangs (made by yourself). You saw yourself with mom at her important meetings, taking notes in your notebook with colored pens. Dancing with her cassettes and different vinyls late at night, singing along. Cooking your favorite foods together…

You were a straight A’s student, the pride of every academy you attended, and the perfect, shy kid who never created major chaos. Everyone around you would say how lucky Ms. Weems was to have you as her child.

And of course, how could you not be perfect? You’ve seen her cry, knowing how hard it was to achieve that. You’ve heard the comments people made about her and the school. You’ve seen how much it took her to be where she was. You had to make the path as easy as you could for her, so she didn’t have to worry with you. When you were old enough to enter Nevermore, the distance between you got wider. You found your friends and were not sleeping that often at her quarters anymore. Thankfully, she realized it before it was too late, and you started being close again.

All this small presentation was coming to an end, and before you could feel it, the last slide came by. It was late at night, and you were back at her quarters, helping with emails she had to send.

“Y/n/n?” Larissa asked, looking at you with a smile, which you half replied, not taking your eyes from the laptop, “I don’t know if I have ever said this out loud, but I have never felt luckier in my life”

“Really?” you asked, distracted, signing the last email and sending it, “Did the chief finally give up on the whole ‘mysterious creature thing’?”

She laughed before asking you to turn off the computer. You did so, and she grabbed your hand. Even if you were just looking, you could almost feel her warm, comforting touch.

“I feel lucky because I got you, silly child” she replied, looking at you with proud eyes, “you are everything to me, and honestly I don’t think I would have been able to endure much of what I did without you… I’m so proud of you”...

Everything went dark and empty, and after being in some sort of shock, accepting your own death, you panicked. No, you didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not alone in the dark. You’ve sacrificed yourself for the better, and now you were whining like a child. Does that make you a weak person? Does that invalidate your sacrifice?

Darkness surrounded you no matter the direction you took. Running in circles, you tripped with your foot, falling face first to the ground. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your breathing shallow as you tried to find something to ground you. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, only silence. A silence so deep you could hear your breathing, you could listen to your thoughts clear like water. Nothing was real. What was going on?

Your senses, overwhelmed, begged for the torture to stop. There was no purpose in trying to stand up, so you curled up in a ball, hugging your knees and closing your eyes. Every time you were feeling down, scared, or sad, Larissa had been there for you. She was always there, holding your hand, stroking your hair to calm all your aches down. You felt like that helpless child you once were, trying to find her in this nightmare.

“Y/N?” An echoed voice flew across the emptiness, “I’m back, all right? I won’t go away anymore, promise”.

Your eyes opened, searching for the source of the sound. It was only you, the ground, and the darkness… After brushing away the tears with a rough hand movement, you listened, staying still.

“I spoke with the cops again… they say it might be better for us to hide after you get better, just in case” she whispered. You recognize that voice, vaguely. “Donovan said you were really brave back there… Of course you were, you always are…”

Where was she? Sitting up, you keep on trying to find the source of her voice. You are sure now, that’s mom. Her voice started cracking as she revealed all the things that had happened since the first attack, how she rushed to the hospital and almost lost you twice. How you were connected to a bunch of things and in a state of deep sleep (she feared to called it the real name just in case you could understand you wouldn’t get scared). The attack at midnight at Nevermore, how the students were forced to escape in a very short amount of time. Thankfully not many people were injured severely.

The best part was that you were able to help after all. Thanks to the video, the police department had been on patrol nearby the school all evening, and reacted quickly when things went south.

After a brief pause, she spoke to you about… yourself. She missed your jokes, your smile, the interesting conversations you used to have during tea time, and the pictures saved in your shared album “Mom and me”. She felt guilty, ashamed of not being able to protect you and standing still as Ms. Thornhill stabbed you with the venom, her body only reacting as your knees buckled and you dropped to the ground half conscious.

“...But I don’t know why am I even talking about this… I think you are not able to hear me, darling” she said in a sad whisper, clearing her throat so her voice wouldn’t break again “I miss your voice, y/n/n… My sleepy kitten.”

But you were there! You could hear her loud and clear, why was she saying all of that?

“Mom I’m right here, I can hear you!” You yelled, but no words left your mouth. Only a strained yell, making you sound like a squeaking mouse. “Mom I can hear you! Get me out of here, please!”

Standing up, you try to yell again, to make her notice you. How was she talking to you but you couldn’t see her? This was not funny, it was simply terrifying. You wanted to speak, to scream for help. After trying with no result for your voice to be heard, you started to give up… after what seemed like ages, you decided it was not worth it, curling up again. You started to feel sleepy. Was it possible to sleep in a dream?

“Mom I’m scared! Please…” you choke up on your tears, sobbing “ I want to wake up… help… please, someone help…”

After a long time (you didn’t know how much exactly) you woke up, still in that nightmare. Trapped inside your mind, what a fun experience! Groggily you stretched, your ears trying to seek for the known voice of Ms. Weems.

But she was nowhere to be found, and instead you were left with another. After a few minutes of listening you realized who it was: Wednesday.

“I thought you would be awake by now. After all, you have proven to be extremely strong Y/N” there was a small hint of a kind note in her voice, “Thank you for covering me during the personal investigations… I should have known that the outcome of everything would be bloody and disastrous.”

You smiled. After all you did, it seemed like Wednesday and you were friends. You were glad her first year wasn’t as horrible as she had imagined.

Someone knocked on the door before entering, greeting the raven-haired girl good morning. The first minutes an uncomfortable silence filled the room before Ms. Weems took lead of the conversation.

“I’m glad to see you again, Ms. Addams”

“I was only hoping to be able to say my farewells and thank them ” she explained “I won’t be able to see them until the next term of your torturous school begins”.

Even if you were not able to see them, you could bet almost anything that comment made your mom smile. She was happy, even if she didn’t wished to admit it, that Wednesday had survived the whole term at the school.

“I will be happy to see you again” Ms. Weems replied, before adding “And, Wednesday?”

She looked her in the eye, knowing what Larissa was about to do, but before trying to stop her, the principal continued.

“Thank you. First, for saving my child… If you hadn’t took out the syringe before the entirety of the liquid was inside them… I don’t even wish to imagine what could have happened… And second, for saving Nevermore. You are an extraordinary, gifted, and intelligent girl… I am sure your mother will be proud”

This time, Wednesday stood still for a second, before thanking them with embarrassment and asking for her not to do that again in the foreseeable future. Ms. Weems choked out a laugh, trying still to understand what could be going inside the young girl’s brain.

Wednesday searched in her pockets for something, and after a few seconds she took out a phone, handing it to Ms. Weems, who took it not fully understanding. With the faintest of blushes, she cleared her throat, looking at the principal.

“I was wondering if Y/N has one of those things Enid seems to enjoy so much… So I could write to them, once they are awake… Insta-gram, I think” after a few seconds of silence, she added, like defending herself “I’m still getting used to having one of those.”

With a subtle nod, Ms. Weems searched for your profile, followed you on that phone and handed it back to the black-haired girl. She thanked her, said her farewells, and left. Larissa was quite amused at the ever so mysterious girl being more into social media, and how flustered she looked when admitting she knew nothing about those things. Even the one with the darkest hearth had a sweet inside, even if they don’t usually admit it, she thought.

But after the minutes of amusement, the tears came back to her already red eyes. She had never seen more undone. Her always flawless hair was messy, half combed into a bun. Her face pale, dark circles fully visible under her tired eyes. Her hands were cold, but she rubbed them one against the other to warm them up. Yours were as cold as ice, she only wished for you to feel a bit warm.

The nurse had come early in the morning and announced you were responding to the treatment, and changed your oxygen mask for a cannula. It was now up to you wheter you woke up in a few minutes or hours. That got Larissa’s hopes up, before realizing maybe you were not ready to wake up yet.

She announced the good news, grabbing your hand and rubbing gentle circles on it. Trying to motivate you, she started thinking out loud places where you could hide. A few sobs were heard as she kept rambling, trying not to break down again in the sight of an unpredictable future.

This was enough right? You were making everyone so worried, and mom had stated the fact you needed to hide as soon as you were in good shape again. You had to try to wake up, for her. The world was no longer in danger. And even if it was, you didn’t think it mattered anymore. You tried to get control of your body… And then you felt it, a warm sensation around your hand. Slowly, you were beginning to feel again.

“You see? I told you Wednesday wanted to be your friend. After all the mischiefs you conjured during the past months I woulnd’t expect anything else” She sighed, grabbing your hand, “could you please show me you are still in there, kitten?”

Just a sign. You could do that… How, you had no idea. After a few minutes of what you thought useless attempts, the darkness dissipated, leaving space for a very bright light.

“I felt your hand moving, great job Y/N” she encouraged you, happy tears streaming down her face, “You can do it darling, just open your eyes.”

It took a lot out of you, but somehow you managed to escape your prison. Your eyes opened slowly, squinting a bit as you adjusted your vision to the bright room. Groaning, you started feeling your senses again.

What happened? Where is this place?

“...Mom?” you asked in a whisper, still lost and half-asleep.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” she reassured you, stroking your hair. “Welcome back, sleepy kitten.”

With a vague smile you simply let her stroke your hair as you finished understanding everything that was going on. Then, aware of your surroundings, you cleared your throat. Still, not a noise came out.

“It will take some time, don’t worry” mom’s voice explained, “you just woke up from a really long nap, after all”.

The first meal you had after being entirely on IV therapy was glory. It wasn’t much, true, but you felt like it been ages since you ate something. Your body was recuperating, and you had no major side effect, aside from the weakness and the fact you were not able to walk five steps without falling over. But it could be worse, right?

You wrote to Wednesday as soon as you were allowed to have your phone back, and it was so funny to see how many accidental typos she made, or how many times she would send weird stickers. After a few weeks you were given the all clear, finally ready to go to your new home. Where? That was gonna be fun to find out. Thankfully mom was able to infiltrate on her office, grabbing two bags full of clothes and other important stuff, so you were not able to miss any of your favorite stuff.

Your sacrifice was for her, and you were happy you took the risk, even if now you are weak and might need some aid when walking. The mystery was over, everything was good.

Things won’t last much like that, sure, but for now it was time to rest and see where destiny would take you.

#wednesday addams #larissa weems #hurt/comfort #hospital #fanfic #wednesday fanfic

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