#i might not answer right away but i love getting asks

[killerpancakeburger]

Well-placed Trust

As soldiers unpromptedly walk in on a maskless Ghost and you, your solution to protect his face is to shove it in your chest.

Tags: f!reader (boobs involved), civilian!reader, protective!reader, fluff + smut, 1k words.

Gaining Simon Riley's trust was not something you ever planned to achieve. However, now that you've had it, you were fiercely protective of it.

This would explain why, when you heard the door to Ghost's room randomly opening, and your eyes flew to the skull mask laying on his desk— barely a meter away but it might as well have been on the other side of the ocean—, your first instinct was to launch yourself at him. Bluntly shoving his face into your chest without warning, in hopes to conceal it from the newly arrived trespassers, and wrapping your arms around his head in a desperate attempt to hide his hair as well.

Nevermind that he's trapped right between your breasts.

You throw a mildly accusatory stare at the entrance, and coarse laughs ring out, followed by a barely believable apology.

“Oops, sorry. Wrong door. Didn’t mean to interrupt!”

You let out a relieved sigh as the door closes. However said relief is quick to vanish as you realize Simon hasn’t reacted at all this whole time. Not a word, not even a grunt; not a move, not even to repel you. 

You let go of him like you've been burnt, even raising your hands in surrender.

“Sorry! Are you mad? I panicked, I was just trying to—”

Your waterfall of apologies brutally ceases when, after attempting to back away, you're stopped short by his embrace. You don’t know when he wrapped his arms around your waist. His expression still out of sight, anxiety nags at you, despite the logical part of your mind emphasizing that if he was actually angry, there's no way he'd demonstrate it by hugging you. 

So you insists.

“Ghost?”

“Mmh.”

The sound is raspy, unbothered. He idly rubs his face against your torso, and the motion is enough to make your crotch throbs with arousal. Inhaling sharply at the unexpected sensation, you clench your thighs together.

“Simon,” you call again, trying to sound severe this time.

You have absolutely zero reservation in granting all the hugs he might crave, but surely they could be performed in a less… compromising position. Lest you end this cuddle session squirming with want. And a burning face. And the imperative need to never cross the lieutenant ever again, for fear that you'd spontaneously combust with mortification otherwise.

“‘M not mad.“

The gruff, familiar voice appeases your tension a little— the emotional one, that is. Not the physical one.

“You're not? You have a right to b—”

“I trust you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the confession. You suspected it, hoped for it— but hearing it out loud is another matter entirely. Simon Riley is a man of few words, but the ones he does pronounce are always sincere, to the point of bluntness. For him to feel the need to spell it out loud, it has to be important.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You've put my comfort over yours, no questions asked. Couldn’t be more pleased, love.”

The gravel in his voice does funny things to your stomach— why, why, why? It never had that effect before.

You try to ignore the signals sent by your body, instead passing a hand behind your neck in self-consciousness. 

“Oh… well. It was nothing. I'd do it again in a heartbeat—”

“You've been so good to me, sweetheart. Don't ya think you deserve a reward?”

Your brain short-circuits. Your skin gets even warmer. Surely you misheard him.

He finally unsticks his face from your chest, resting his chin above your sternum, only to stare with the start of some impatience drowned out in warmth and fondness.

He's a vision, one that takes your breath away and causes heat to pool in your stomach.

Heavy-lidded eyes, disheveled hair, ardent stare, he's a languid, lascivious mess.

“I need an answer. Preferably in one word. Yes, no, fuck off…”

In other, normal circumstances, you would have stayed mute from the shock, or helplessly stuttered, but the imperative desire to not disappoint him, to preserve the contentment he displays, takes over.

“Fuck. Yes.”

The low chuckle that escapes him in reaction to the eagerness of your reply makes you bite back a moan. Your hands close into fists on the back of his shirt.

He lifts your shirt— "hold this for me, love"— and effortlessly frees your chest from your bra. The second your skin is bare, he presses his face back into it, nuzzling against it with a blissful sigh.

With one hand busy grasping your top, and the other clinging onto his shoulder for balance, there's nothing you can do but submit yourself to his ministrations.

It's your turn to sigh in pleasure as he proceeds to kiss an invisible line between the bottom and the top of your breast, fingers stroking the curve between your ribs and your nipple.

“Never dreamed you'd let me get my face on those, love.”

Groggy, it takes a conscious effort on your part to register what he's saying.

“Such a generous thing. It's only right you get payback.”

“You're very… talkative all of a sudden.”

“S'that a problem? Think I'm not putting my tongue to use enough?”

Right after that, said tongue swirl around your nipple and you can feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Or maybe that's just not your thing,” he adds, casually, as if he hadn’t been shamelessly gropping, kissing, licking and sucking your chest.

“I never said that.”

Your reply had been straight off, out of fear that he'd take offense and puts a stop to all this.

“You know what to do to shut me up, anyway.”

You don’t react to his provocative tone, but you’re tempted by the invitation nonetheless— to muffle that smart mouth with your bust…

Just as his focus on your breasts threatens to not suffice you anymore, his thumb insistantly rubbs the apex of your thighs, and you push back against it openly.

“Easy there, sweetheart,” he soothes you, but you can see how pleased he is by your eagerness. “M just gettin’ started.”

Soon enough he disposed of your pants, and he's parting your knees to nuzzle against your inner thigh the way he was against your chest mere moments ago. You can’t help but close them partially, and instantly he's staring you down, eyes brimming with taunt.

“Gonna smother me with your thighs, sweetheart? Like you did with your tits, mh? Better be prepared in case we get ‘interrupted’ again.”

“Fucking hell, Ghost,” you groan, half exasperated, half even more aroused, as he finally steers his head towards your crotch.

[hearts4werka]

My eyes slowly flutter open while the sunlight pools into my and Matthew's shared bedroom through the curtains over the windows as the morning hours strike, glancing at my current surroundings I see the form of sleeping Matthew next to me with his tattoed arm softly draped over my waist. I can't help but stare at his adorable sleeping face for a few minutes, pbserving and taking in his facial features shadowed by the sunlight occupying the space around us in the moment.

Turning my head to lay flat against the soft pillow sitting currently beneath my head, I stare at the ceiling and come up with an idea to prepare breakfast and since Nick and Chris will be arriving later today to visit before they both have to attend to some meetings regarding their brands, I havent been told much yet but hope to get slightly more educated when they do arrive.

I pull the duvet away from my body, ready to exit the bed and start my day but Matthew’s hand that was previously laying down on my waist tightens its grip and subconsciously pulls me closer into his chest, holding me captive as he slowly stirs awake himself and buries his face into my hair as I hear him mumble something into them but I can’t quite make out the words.

“What was that, sleepyhead?” I ask softly, taking my eyes away from the ceiling and now on him, noticing him slowly coming back to consciousness and waking up from his slumber.

“…five more minutes” He repeats more clearly for me to understand him this time in a slight whine, his face still buried in my hair as I notice him inhaling the scent of them in that moment, still remaining half asleep and not fully awake yet.

When the words ‘five more minutes’ in that whiny tone from sleepy Matthew, knowing very well that in his state right now im not getting far with this conversation so I just chuckle under my breath at how clingy he's being and especially in the morning. Accepting my faith I place a soft kiss on his forehead and snuggle further into his chest, giving into his wishes.

“Only five more minutes, after that I gotta get up. Okay?” I clarified, glancing over at him to make sure he understands me but the only answer I receive is a groan of approval. Nodding his head against the top of my head as he softly pulls me impossibly closer into his chest as he can.

“I love you.” I whisper against his chest as I feel a smile growing on his face thats cuddled up into my hair, our bodies melting together as heat radiates off them and transfers them to the other persons skin, making it slightly tingle.

“Love you too.” He muttered as we continued to cuddle up against each other, suddenly I feel a hand starting to tickle me in ticklish places on my body. Out of instinct my body jerks away from the hand, while Matthew giggles under his breath and continuing his tickle assault.

The sudden tickles make me burst out in laughter as I return them, poking at his chest and starting to tickle him as well. Both of us end up as two laughing messes on the bed after only a few minutes passing by, I adore mornings like these with Matthew laughing next to me.

@hearts4werka

authors note: just a random blurb I wrote today in class out of boredom and while writing the drug dealer Chris fic and I might make it like three parts or two bc I’m writing their meeting rn and I don’t want it to be very long since the first part is already longer that I thought it would be so just say if y’all want it to be two parts of nah, luv y’all so much

Guestlist!

| @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @deffonotjae - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @klaus223492 - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot |

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 2

first time for everything

series masterlist

a/n: heyy y’all!! so this is part 2 of exceeded caution. a lot of it follows the actual movie because i needed set-up for ghostface. there’s still a lot of interaction between the reader + sam & tara but some of it is from the first 30 minutes of scream vi essentially.

warnings: violence (gun usage, knife usage), cursing. he/him pronouns for ghostface.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

a few days ago, sam was nowhere near the forefront of your mind. you had stayed with the group as they navigated their way through accepting that ghostface might be back.

you hadn't spoken to tara much, you felt like you wouldn't be any help to her. she didn't need her ex-girlfriend that she only dated out of convenience around her constantly.

instead, the other carpenter sister started to find solace in your presence.

you found yourself over quite a bit, you noticed that they valued strength in numbers. you even all set a rotation between the group for who would cook that week.

during your week to cook, sam insisted on joining you when grocery shopping. as you promised her that she wouldn't be alone, she mentally promised you the same thing.

"it's just a simple beef stroganoff recipe, sam. you really don't have to come." you smiled sheepishly as you pulled up outside her apartment, she was hopping into your passenger seat.

"ghostface won't let a grocery store stop him from taking lives." sam was firm in her words, you sighed in defeat and drove off towards the shops that were only a couple minutes away from her place. you wanted her to feel safe still.

she pushed the cart while you took ingredients off the shelves, mumbling to yourself as you chucked them in the cart.

"tara used to say your food was amazing. where did you learn to cook?" she asked you, you looked away from your list to smile at her.

"my mom, she's amazing at cooking. she gave up her career to support my dad and become a fulltime housewife." you explained. "i used to help her cook all the time."

"that's pretty cool. i find myself never having the time for new foods. i should probably get on that."

"i can teach you some. or make some for you, i like cooking for people." you shrugged, taking another ingredient off the shelves.

sam would normally decline if you were anyone else, but she felt the urge to accept.

"sure. that would be nice." she nodded at you.

sam had enjoyed you being around more often and getting to know you outside of tara. she even found herself calling you a friend.

or rather, she tried to keep it at friend. she was trying to hide the fact that she felt a pull to you, she didn't know how to explain it. although, one thing was sure, there was an element of guilt to it.

she wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. you felt almost dirty with how much you thought of sam. because of the frequency of your contact, you found yourself wanting to see her more.

was this against some form of girl code that you shouldn’t want to hang out with your ex’s sister?

“um… how are you?” she could see that you were nervous to ask her that. “i know you probably get asked that all the time but i never ask… and i want to know.”

“that’s fine. i figured you would get curious. you always seem to be.” sam commented.

“is curiosity bad?” you teased a little, noting her phrasing.

“no! not at all.” she perked up, shaking her head.

“don’t worry sam, i’m joking.” you realised that the carpenter sisters weren’t used to bantering with someone they weren’t extremely close to— or someone they didn’t love.

“right.” she bit her lip. “but no? it’s not bad at all.” she chuckled. “but i’m… not okay?”

you nodded, respecting her answer and silently thanking her for being honest.

“i hoped that we would escape this when we moved. and i’ve been doing everything to protect tara but it didn’t end for sidney prescott— so i assume that it won’t end for us.” she scratched her brow, the stress getting to her. “i’m sorry you got involved.”

“it’s okay, sam. i knew what i was getting into when i dated tara.” you nodded. “if it happened again, i already knew i’d stick around.”

“that’s admirable.”

you felt your heart clench a little when she said that. nobody had ever told you that your desire to stick around was admirable. you always got “clingy” or “overbearing.” that was the first time you’d ever gotten a compliment on it.

“oh! um… thank you.” you stuttered out, a blush flooding your cheeks. you knew that sam meant it too, she wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. she was genuinely saying it.

“it’s true.” it was.

you tried to push your flustered down into the depths of your mind as you struggled to reach the top shelf with the last of your ingredients. you were definitely taller than tara— everyone was. but not tall enough to face this eight layered shelf.

sam was.

sam was taller. and she made that perfectly clear when she basically pressed up behind you to grab this damn dijon mustard for you.

oh no… oh no… you had to stop those thoughts. you had turned around too quickly, basically coming chest to chest with the girl. she didn’t seem to mind— and you refused to mind.

you had never been this close to her before. your eyes trailed over all her features, taking them in. she looked just like tara… maybe that’s whats got your heart beating at the speed of light.

but she wasn’t tara. no, she was sam. and you found that to be what sealed the deal for you.

you found her pretty.

you remained silent as you finished off the last of the ingredient collection. you walked over to the self check-out, scanning the items as the blush continued to make its presence known as sam hovered.

you shuffled some things around in your pocket to try and find your card but before you knew it, sam was paying for your groceries.

“what—“ you tried to protest but the transaction had gone through already.

sam didn’t know what overcame her.

it was her way of taking care of you.

it was even her way of apologising to you.

"sam, you didn't have to do that." you shook your head at her.

"my treat, i didn't get to cook for everyone so this is my way of contributing." she shook you off. you knew that was a lie because mindy sent you a photo of meals you missed, one being sam's.

there was no undoing it now. you sighed and reached for the bags, but sam was one step ahead of you, grabbing them and walking out of the store.

you wished you could wash the blush off with soap.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when you arrived for dinner with your groceries. everyone was already at the carpenter’s apartment. they were spread out across the entire floor, conversing with each other.

you got to cooking almost immediately, knowing that everyone had potentially been there for a while. sam left your side to talk to quinn.

you kept feeling eyes on you.

the shorter carpenter sister was talking to mindy when she felt her attention turn away from her and onto you. she watched you cook, she actually always loved your cooking.

she loved when you would make a dinner catered just to her. she actually missed how lively the kitchen used to be when you were in it. you were even dancing around now, your headphones tucked over your ear.

she smiled a little at how you shook your waist to the music. everyone knew not to bother you so you could get it done quicker.

but tara wanted to bother you. she wanted to approach you and say something, anything to break the silence.

you were friends before everything went down. she thought that maybe she could at least salvage that, that would be her way to redemption.

mindy kept talking and talking before cutting herself off suddenly, realising that tara was no longer paying attention.

“tara, don’t.” mindy said, disappointment clear in her tone. “this is something you need to give time to.”

“there’s been a lot of time.” tara muttered, glaring at mindy.

“you can’t just break her heart and expect her to let you back in so quickly.” mindy held her shoulder back.

“i know it won’t be quick, but i have to try.” tara said through her teeth, pulling her shoulder out of mindy’s grasp and starting to make her way towards you.

tara stopped on her heels when she saw her sister already take your attention. she thought that she’d better not interrupt you.

“whatcha listening to?” sam asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

you pulled your headphones back a little.

“sloppy jane.” you said.

“sloppy jane? what kind of name is that?!” sam laughed.

“she’s cool! i promise!” you raised your hands up in defense. you took your headphones off your head, you gently placed them on sam. your hands nicking strands of her long hair before you pulled them away.

she held eye contact with her as her head bobbed to the music, you matched the bobbing, knowing which part of the song she was on.

a smile formed on her face while you two were in sync. your eyes started to crinkle up with a smile as your hair started getting in your face when you headbanged. she joined you until the kitchen was filled with laughter.

“okay… okay. i see it now. she has a good sound.” sam agreed with you, placing the headphones back on you but leaving an ear open.

“thank you.” you chuckled, moving the beef strips into the bowl you intended to serve it in.

“this smells soooo good.” sam practically moaned out, you laughed at the noise she made.

“well, you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else!” you teased.

she groaned and rolled her eyes. you liked seeing her loosen up a bit more, you were grateful she was getting more comfortable around you.

as you two laughed, tara stared on.

she remembered when she was in sam’s place. she even felt herself grow jealous at her sister. why did she ever think that what she was doing to you was okay? your heart was gold and tara thought she had turned it dark— she realised your golden heart’s integrity never faltered. you were still just as good.

she was cruel and she broke your heart. she didn’t think she would regret it— until she suddenly felt all that guilt wash over her. was she regretting it?

you enlisted sam to help you bring all your dishes to the table.

“beef stroganoff, pasta, and rice. choose your carb to go with it and enjoy!” you presented your meal to the group.

everyone admired your work and sat down at the table. you ended up sitting beside mindy who talked your ear off about some pottery class that she and anika took.

you glanced over at sam first, her eyes meeting yours during her conversation with ethan. you two exchanged heartfelt smiles, you had a good day because of each other.

then you looked at tara, who was already looking at you. her first serving was practically gone. you knew that she loved one thing about you, and it was your cooking. she held a sadness behind those eyes, you saw into it, but you had your doubts that it was sadness.

when you noticed her plate, you felt yourself flash her a smile too. she returned it, it was shy but still genuine. her plate was cleaned up just seconds after everyone served themselves.

crumbs of you, tara would take. she cherished that smile you gave to her, even if it was forced or accidental. it filled her brain.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

washing up had to be done, you wanted do it yourself, saying how you were on a roll from cooking that you wanted to do the cleaning too.

sam was about to speak up but suddenly, tara found her voice.

“i’ll help!” she said, chirping up. everyone looked at her with confusion. they didn’t expect that she would do that for you.

“oh… okay!” you said, making your way over to the kitchen.

you scrubbed the plates and handed them to her to dry. it was a good system that worked.

“you did well with dinner today. your cooking is always good.” tara smiled at you.

“thank you, tara. i appreciate it.” your lips pressed into a thin line.

“i just wanted to say that.” she put the plates onto the drying rack. “we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“i know. i just wanted to give you space. i felt like i wasn’t much help to you ever. and i felt like i wouldn’t be much help now.” you confessed. “but i want to stick around, i would be a pretty shit person if i didn’t.”

she felt horrible that you thought that you wouldn’t be help. in fact, there were some nights that tara found herself longing for you.

“we were friends before this, do you think we’d be able to get back to that?” she asked, searching your face for hope. but all she saw was doubt.

“maybe, tara.” you turned to her, handing her the last of the dishes. you saw the dejected look on her face and sighed. you wanted to go back to that too, you missed the tara that was a good friend to you. “but we can try.”

tara’s face lit up, a bit of shock also hidden between the lines. “okay! yeah… let’s try.” she put the dish away and held her hand out, you chuckled but you shook it.

what you failed to see was your maybe friend’s sister staring at you both from the living room, her jaw tightened as tara touched you.

sam zoned back into the conversation, realising that the show they were watching was long gone and replaced by the news again.

there was another death.

sam erupted in her anger, suddenly storming into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife that she owned.

you had no idea what just happened, tara followed her sister back to the living room, the commotion having everyone sit up.

“sam! slow down!” tara yelled after her sister, you joined them after putting the dishes away. “can we please think about this before you decide to abandon my college education?!”

you couldn’t blame sam for wanting to leave. this was something that she just wanted to escape. as much as you would be upset, you would understand. you’d help, even.

you would help them pack up if it meant they were away from everything. you were prepared to never speak of the carpenter sisters again, in hopes that they would never have to go through this again.

“this can’t just be a coincidence, tara!” sam yelled back at her. today was the day where you saw the genetic stubbornness displayed by the carpenter sisters.

“quinn, can you please call your dad?!” tara asked their roommate, quinn immediately nodded. you could tell she didn’t want to get yelled at by sam but it was a reasonable point of action.

ring!!!

everyone flinched. you didn’t. it was just a phone ringing to you, but to everyone else, it was so much more.

sam’s phone blared on the table, she walked over only to see that it was gale weathers, she declined the call without a doubt.

you watched as quinn travelled across the room, telling sam that her father wanted to speak to her. you heard the muffled voice of mr. bailey from where you were standing.

“okay, thank you. i’ll be right there.” sam hung up. “he wants me down at the station.”

“i’ll drive you.” you said, grabbing your keys. “i live close to the station.”

“you shouldn’t have to—“ you cut sam off.

“no. i will. no man left behind, remember?” you said, firm in your decision. sam sighed but nodded.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you, sam, and tara made it out the door and started to walk to your car.

suddenly, sam’s phone rang again. the two girls stopped when they saw the name displayed on the screen.

richie kirsch.

richie? you recognized that name. you huddled closer to the sisters, closing your eyes to rack your memory for where you knew that name.

no. wait.

it couldn’t be. he was dead, wasn’t he?

“don’t pick that up.” tara said, looking up at sam.

sam hesitated, but it could be important. these calls were life or death for them. she picked up.

you looked at your surroundings. you suddenly felt so exposed, like anything could happen to you now that you weren’t in the comforts of your own home— or anyone’s home.

“who is this?” sam asked into the phone. you couldn’t hear the responses, only sam’s facial expressions changing as time went on.

her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes changed. you saw woodsboro glaze her pupils, you knew she was thinking back to her life before the city. everything was resurfacing.

“i want you to think long and hard about whether or not you wanna do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead.” she said, planting her feet down with determination.

your eyes started to tear away from sam, not absorbing the conversation.

bad gut feeling.

you had to stop ignoring those.

“you better watch your back, asshole.” sam said.

and tara yelled.

a cloaked figure sporting a ghostface mask suddenly grabbed tara, you sprung into action. tara elbowed the figure and you shoved him into the bike rack.

“go!” you said, running just behind the two sisters.

“there!” sam redirected you into a little corner store. you stood with your front to the door while the girls yelled at the cashier to help them, starting a fight with someone in line.

suddenly ghostface walked in.

you backed up into sam, pushing her backwards a little bit while one of the customers stood tall in front of the infamous killer.

you watched as ghostface drove their knife into the man, multiple times.

you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. you had never seen anyone get killed before. you thought ghostface had specific targets, this wasn’t just an ordinary killer, this killer wasn’t afraid to take any life that stood in his way.

you turned around and the three of you flooded into the back of the store as the clerk wielded his gun.

when the first gunshot rang, sam’s arm flew to cover you as chips flew everywhere. tara was crouched just beside the two of you.

suddenly, there was a second gunshot. but only after you heard the clerk start begging for his life.

you tried to stay quiet, you didn’t realise where parts of your body were. you had a hand on sam’s abdomen, bunching her shirt into your fist. you were terrified, you had never gone through this before. you couldn’t imagine what sam & tara were feeling.

you couldn’t move— or else he would know where you were.

the corner store was quiet, it was like a cruel game of cat and mouse. you heard crunching as the sound of boots got closer to you.

all three of you rounded the corner to avoid detection. sam hid behind a freezer while you and tara hid behind the shelving. you saw sam’s eyes flicker to a can on the ground and you knew what she was trying to say.

carefully, you reached out and picked the can off the floor. it was disgusting and sticky. was this what they had to result to when defending themselves? putting themselves in disgusting situations? you felt twisted picturing them going through this once— now twice.

you threw the can across the corner store, hearing boots walk in the other direction. it was a successful distraction. the three of you started crawling towards the exit.

when you heard the boots stop moving again, you paused. sam leaned forward, you could tell that she could see a lot clearer than you. she slowly inched towards the shelving, then she suddenly shoved it with her shoulder, knocking it down.

god, she was strong.

had she been training herself to get stronger? in case this happened again?

the three of you hauled ass to the exit, being met with cop cars and their sirens.

the three of you were escorted into the cars. the sisters rode in one while you went in the other. you fidgeted with your fingers. then it was daunting on you.

baby’s first ghostface attack.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you sat in an interrogation room at the precinct. the walls were closing in on you.

you had been close to death before. you remember when you and your parents got into that gnarly car accident that had you coming out with several broken bones and whiplash. you cradled your arm, feeling the after-effects of the worst injury you sustained.

but this wasn't a car t-boning yours. this was a killer.

and you felt like death was kissing your cheek.

you didn't know where sam and tara were, you assumed a different interrogation room. you were waiting for ages, you thought that maybe someone was attending to them first.

you sat in silence for about ten more minutes, trying to decompress the situation.

the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing detective bailey. you had met quinn's dad in passing, never really speaking to him.

"mr. bailey. how are you?" you asked him, sitting up in your chair. you noticed he had files in his hand. this was going to take longer than you wanted.

"i'm good. thank you... how are you doing? you weren't around for woodsboro, i'm sure it's a bit of a shock to be involved now." straight into it.

"a bit is an understatement, sir." you let out a dry chuckle. "i'm assuming you're going to be asking me more than just 'how are you' though..."

"i'm sorry. i know you're probably tired." he sighed, you nodded. you were trying to hold back a yawn.

"it's fine."

he sat down across from you, opening the file and putting its contents in front of you.

"you're the newest addition to the group, quinn has talked about you. i know you and tara had a past relationship. were you frequently in and out of their apartment?" he asked.

"yeah... tara and i were together for a bit. i usually visited her and i also hang out with mindy and chad, so yes, i was frequently at theirs." you nodded, you often found that honesty was the best policy with these things.

"i know that your relationship with her ended badly." he stated, you scoffed.

"surely a bad break-up isn't enough motivation to go on these killing sprees, right?" you asked, a bit offended.

"sometimes it might just be."

"did you have access to sam carpenter's belongings?" he followed up. what did sam's stuff have to do with this?

"um... no. not really. i never really interacted with sam until ghostface was rumored to resurface. and even then, i don't really have that access." you crossed your arms across your chest, your eyes scanning the photos on the desk. you spotted a photo of sam's license, bloodied and dumped at the scene of the crime.

someone was trying to frame her.

"we found sam's license next to the body."

"well she was with me all day. we went grocery shopping and i cooked everyone dinner." you quickly jumped at the chance to defend her. "tara was there too."

mr. bailey nodded at you confirming their alibi.

"sam said the same thing." he reassured you. he leaned in a bit closer to you. "although, i'd be cautious about those sisters. especially sam. i wouldn't get too close."

your brows furrowed in frustration.

"i'm sure i have nothing to worry about. they're good people." you didn't want to speak any further on the matter.

you hated that the thought of either of them being responsible for these deaths even crossed the detective's mind. he was supposed to be helping them.

two knocks against the door turned the detective's attention to another officer walking into the room.

"the fbi is here." the officer said. detective bailey looked confused.

"the fbi? where?" he stood up then turned to you. "you're free to go. i think sam and tara are waiting for you."

you stood from your seat and followed him, making your way over to the two dark-haired sisters. tara was the first to spot you, nudging sam until she turned around.

you sped up, you didn't know what it was. you just had to make sure she was real.

you wrapped your arms around sam. you felt her tense up out of shock but return the gesture.

"i'm sorry." you apologised for the sudden hug.

"it's okay." sam smiled warmly.

you turned to tara and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly.

tara's eyes met yours. those pleading doe eyes, they wanted more than just a squeeze on the shoulder. she wished she was sam in that moment.

"i'm really glad you two are okay." you cleared your throat. sam smiled at you, even if it was forced, it was nice to see.

you heard two voices chatting just a little bit aways from you. sam started moving towards them, you and tara followed behind.

"kirby?" she spoke, getting the attention of a blonde woman.

"hey sam." kirby replied, moving to hug sam as well.

"do you know each other?" bailey asked.

"yeah... we went to woodsboro high together. she was a senior when i was a freshman." sam clarified. you studied the woman in front of you.

all you could say was that she looked cool. she was an fbi agent that had been monitoring the sisters for a little while. you realised that this had been the kirby involved with the killings too. they shared a very unique experience between each other.

you stayed behind sam while they conversed. kirby was handed the mask that was left at the scene. the mask used in the 2011 killings. kirby lifted her shirt to show the scar that charlie walker gave her.

sam looked uncomfortable. she realised then that this was bigger than just a killing spree, they were trying to send a message.

kirby proposed you all worked together but sam interjected, not giving her the chance to finish.

"we're getting out of town." she pushed through kirby and detective bailey.

"i'm sorry, that's not possible. you're both persons of interest. all three of you are." bailey warned.

"are you serious?" tara stepped forward, the growing frustration evident in her voice.

"he's right." kirby confirmed. "but if we work together-"

"we're going." sam basically barked an order at you and tara.

"my car's back at your place." you said. sam nodded. a small part of her brain was happy that you would be around after that.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when the three of you made your way out of the precinct, you had never seen so many cameras before. reporters swarmed the three of you, immediately asking sam questions like if she had an alibi or if tara felt safe with her sister.

they didn't pay you any mind, how could they? you were fresh meat to the group, they didn't care about your story. luckily, it allowed you to mercilessly shove them back, helping make space for sam and tara to walk through the flood.

you found yourself holding onto sam's waist, pulling her towards the open spots you've created with your body pushing against the reporters.

"gale weathers." a voice sounded out in the crowd, causing the sisters to stop in their tracks. you knew that name too, it felt like an endless revision on who was who, if you had studied well enough. "do you ladies think that you're the reason that the ghostface killer has come to the big apple?" she asked.

you saw it in sam. she snapped. she'd had a long night, she nearly lost her life. she nearly lost her sister. and her... friend.

she swung with her fist out.

"sam!" you exclaimed as gale ducked, avoiding the punch. you pulled sam's waist back, you knew she didn't need another video of her going viral. she put her hands over yours, allowing you to hold her back. you had to admit, it felt nice knowing you had a bit of pull on her.

although, you failed to account for the shorter carpenter sister. you failed to catch her pulling her elbow back and swinging at gale with a force of her own.

you jumped at the noise made by the contact and had to hold back a laugh at gale's shocked face. sam cracked a smile, she couldn't help herself.

"stay away from us." tara spat at gale.

you two turned to walk towards a cab that was parked outside the station. you pushed sam slightly by her waist, hoping she wouldn't turn back around.

but gale weathers just had to say something.

"are you two seriously still mad about what happened?"

"you wrote a book. about them." she didn't expect you to say anything. she didn't know who you were or what you were to the carpenters. she looked at you as if you were irrelevant, like another body that ghostface could dispose of just to raise the numbers.

"and who are you?" she asked, a snark in her voice.

"doesn't matter. you took advantage of them. of the fact that they lost their friends, they nearly lost each other." you shook your head. "i remember you, from tara's stories."

tara watched you fight back. how could you still do that after she hurt you? you were full of surprises. she had never seen your tongue so laced with venom before.

"you lost someone too. dewey... if someone kept shoving that down your throat, how would you feel?" you asked, glaring her way as sam and tara entered the cab. gale's stance shifted, she was uncomfortable with a stranger knowing so much information about her personal life. but then again, she put the carpenter sisters' life out there for the whole world to see.

"i remember your book too. you called sam unstable, you painted her in the worst light possible. and i thought you had been through enough with her to know that that's not true." you turned back to the two girls, opening the door to the back of the cab for them.

sam's face was unreadable as she hopped into the car. she stared at the back of your head, or more like the back of your seat. you stood up for her, breaking your kind and golden-hearted demeanour. she was worried that being in this situation would change you for the worst.

you sat in silence after telling the driver where to go. leaning back into your seat, you tried to keep your eyes open. you hadn't gotten any sleep since last night, your time divided between the carpenter residence and the station.

there was so little to say and yet so many words were jumbled in your brain.

when you arrived at the carpenter's apartment, you yawned as you exited the cab. sam caught you do so and stopped you before you could unlock your car. her hand covered yours, gripping it in her own.

"you should rest here for a little bit. you're too tired to drive." she said, looking down at you. you wanted to get home and sleep in your own bed but you knew she was right.

you put your car keys away and walked upstairs with them.

tara immediately made a beeline for the bathroom. she always showered after coming home, she couldn't go a day without smelling like vanilla.

sam put pillows and blankets down on their couch and walked into her room, coming back out with some clothes.

"you can change into these for now, you might as well make yourself comfortable. and you can sleep for as long as you want." she said, you took the clothes and nodded at her.

she sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket up slightly to cover herself, you grabbed the blanket to stop her.

"what are you doing? i'll take the couch." you said, furrowing your brows.

"no. you'll take my bed." she looked up at you from the couch.

"it's your damn bed, sam." you didn't mean to sound so ill-mannered but the tiredness was getting the best of you.

"i know. so i'll do with it as i please." you know it was just her trying to show that she cared. "so you're taking it."

you sighed sharply, you were about to take a massive risk.

"share it with me." you said, holding your ground. you didn't want to kick sam out of her own bed.

she saw the determination on your face. you two were going to sit here and bicker if she didn't give in now. she nodded, standing up and making her way back to her room.

you changed into sam's clothes, her scent wafting as the shirt fell over your figure. then you cracked the door open enough to slip yourself into her room.

just as you entered sam's room, tara came out of the bathroom. she had the look of a shattered woman on her face, you should have been going into her room. she should have offered first.

you shut the door behind you, walking towards the bed where sam was sitting. you spotted her nursing her hand, spotting a deep cut from crawling on glass at the bodega.

"sam, you should've gotten that taken care of." you scolded her a little, walking to her bathroom and grabbing a medkit you knew was there. tara had told you that she put one in every bathroom.

you knelt in front of sam, unpacking the kit to grab the antiseptic and a bandage.

"it's fine, it's only a cut." she protested.

"if ghostface doesn't get you, an infected cut will. and i think that's extremely embarrassing." you tried to make light of it, your exhaustion washing over you. "this'll hurt."

you dabbed the antiseptic into sam's cut. she hissed at the sting. but the sight in front of her was better. you, in her clothes, patching her up. this was probably the worst time for her to form a crush, and probably the worst person to form it on. her sister's ex-girlfriend, who was now involved in the ghostface killings. but your soft features, your concern for her, it was hard to resist you.

she chalked it up to exhaustion, maybe this crush would fade away when she was in her right mind.

but when you situated yourself next to her in bed, your respectful nature forcing you to leave ample space so you two weren't touching each other, she hoped that she would one day earn the honour of closing that gap.

as she closed her eyes, she listened in to your soft breathing. and even when you accidentally ended up shoulder to shoulder in bed,

sam refused to move.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author's journal okay i actually spent way too much time on this chapter, i had to write out the first 30 minutes of scream vi with a reader insert so it was a little bit more cohesive with the storyline. i don't know how i feel about this one chapter in particular but i'm starting to see the vision for the rest of the series teehee. i promise it wont just be the whole movie written down but it'll definitely have canon events. next chapter is most likely going to be non-canon as much as possible just cause this is a romance fic at the end of the day.

also this is the song i intended for the reader to be listening to with sam

[noobsoconfusing]

‘fill the void’_ hamzahthefantastic

summary: hamzah has been busy with the channel and misses you so much, so when you finally have time together, you kinda make it up to him.

warning: sub!hamzah, guided masturbation, lowkey cum eating, kinda gross, fluff and praise.

>_<

hamzah’s right leg bounces up and down in a desperate manner, erratic and anxious.

brown eyes shaky and glossy as he anticipates your company, your mere existence next to his. he bites his lip hard enough to wince but not that hard to draw blood.

as the elevator is taking way too long for his liking, he rolls his eyes and practically sprints up the stairs.

bad idea, oh god. –he thinks to himself, slowing down his pace as he gets to the third floor. two more floors to reach your shared flat.

the anticipation grows inside his belly, excitement even, to finally see you after such a long day. fuck, he misses you. badly. so badly.

as he fumbles with the keys, a groan escapes his lips when his hands start shaking. open, open, please just open. he mentally begs.

fucking finally, the door opens and hamzah shuts it closed as he enters, looking for you desperately, like a lost puppy looking for its owner.

“y/n! i am home!” he announces.

red and blue quickly make their way out of their shared bed, snuggling up onto hamzah’s legs, showing how much they missed their cat dad. no response from you, whatsoever.

“hey little guys, where’s mom, huh?” knowing he wont get an answer back, hamzah pets his cats and continues looking for you.

as he gets into your shared room, he sighs in relief. there you are.

though you can’t see him, as you quickly type something on the keyboard, sitting on the desk that faces the wall. you’re wearing his headphones, and he then thinks you might be doing college work or just being functional.

he sneaks behind you, and pauses for a moment. waiting to see if you can feel his presence. but as you’re too carried away by whatever the fuck you’re doing, you don’t.

“woah!” you whine when hamzah snatches the headphones off your head. quickly, you turn around on the chair to face your boyfriend. a big smile forms on your face. “hello!” you say.

hamzah pouts, “thought you weren’t home.” he says, pulling your body effortlessly off the chair so you can stand in front of him. “i missed you so fuckin’ much you have no idea.” he admitted

“hey, i missed you too.” you murmur as his body melts with yours in a tight hug.

you can feel how he inhales your scent, his hands slide to your waist too, gripping so hard you think it might bruise. he groans into the hug, a desperate sound erupting from his throat. and then you know whats up.

“you okay, love?” you ask, trying to pull away to face him but he grips tighter, audibly protesting for you to just stay there with him.

“need you. that’s all.” his voice sounds soft, still low and deep per usual. but you get to hear the smallness of his words, the warm sound of need.

“it’s fine, need you too…” you quietly admit, not breaking the hug still.

and the scene is just weird. how you two stand in the middle of the room, embracing each other and balancing as you try not to lose yourself and fall on the floor from how hard he hugs you

“bed, please?” he asks after a moment.

you nod. “yeah, bed.”

for the first time, he breaks the hug but only to quickly get rid of his shoes, he takes off the beanie he was wearing and pulls your hand so you can lay on the bed with him.

“you’re very warm, you feel good?” you ask, a tone of worry sliding out of your question.

his cheeks are flushed and eyes teary, he looks so stupidly good though, something about his needy image invites you, attracts you even more.

“i feel good now that i’m with you.” hamzah holds your hand in his, bringing it up to his face and just keeping it there.

“love you so much, yeah?” you say, caressing his features and letting him lean into your touch.

cozy. very cozy.

“get closer, please.” he pleaded, and when you didn’t move as fast as he would’ve liked, he took matters into his own hands. his hands gripped your hips, pulling them towards his own body, the space between you both nonexistent.

he kissed your neck desperately, hungrily, almost like he was starving.

“so fuckin’ pretty, ma.” he breathed out, a whine catching up inside your throat. that pet name always made you fuzzy inside.

“are you sure you’re okay, hamzah?” you were worried by how he was behaving. not worried in a bad manner, but surprised.

it seemed that now, the words had vanished from his brain, he acted completely out of impulse.

“mmhm, yeah.” he shifted on the bed, placing his leg over yours. “just… really fuckin’ need you right now… always do.” he kissed your shoulder and you shivered at the feeling of his lips on your body.

each time felt like the first time.

“tell me, hamzah.” your voice came out like a whisper, but it was fine.

his eyes opened and stared at you, the vague lighting of the room felt almost painful as it hit his sight.

“what?” big hazy eyes penetrating your figure, he almost wanted to swallow your image, engrave it onto his brain.

you gulped. closeness feeling way too intense now. you liked it.

“tell me what you need me to do.” he groaned at your words, licking his lips almost instinctively.

he was nervous all of sudden.

“i- i don’t know.” hamzah felt so small, so braindead.

every single time he was with you, he felt as if some switch inside his brain turned off, leaving you all the thinking work.

“i think you do know, yeah.” your hand traveled to his cheek, all the way down to his neck, and you let it rest there.

you felt him swallow, his adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“can you- uh, …please?” so fucked, that’s how he felt. you had barely done anything more than just exist, and yet he was fucked. how pathetic.

“hey, hey, words.” you tighten the grip on his neck, not enough to choke, just enough to feel his blood flowing through the veins.

he whined just so beautifully.

“y/n… p-please…” his lower lip trembled and you knew what he wanted. still, you waited for him to tell you. “can i kiss you?” please please say yes.

a smile appeared on your face and you nodded slowly. so tempting.

“sure.” finally, you thought.

he wasted no time, cupping your face with his big hands, and getting to taste your lips after what felt like ages.

oh how soft, how delicate. he melted right then and there, some part of his mind became mush, and all he could do was keep kissing you, it was messy, so desperate.

however, you started feeling needy too. a feeling so complex to understand. a feeling only hamzah could fill.

like an emptiness inside that you knew only he could fill up.

hamzah’s tongue pressed between your lips and you parted them, allowing him in. you couldn’t help but giggle at the feeling, at how he was practically desperately grinding his hips onto you without shame.

this man, you swore, couldn’t kiss you without getting his dick hard, and that was just the effect you had on him.

“oww, f-fuck, ‘s good” he breathed out, a whine almost. “you’re so pretty, i could eat you.” he said, his hands moved up and down your torso, feeling you up in such a hungry manner.

“damn…” you said quite surprised at his words.

as you were starting to feel not enough contact, you shifted on the bed, breaking the kiss for a moment, hamzah’s eyes stared at you worried, afraid he might’ve done something you didn’t like.

“wha-?”

“hold on, don’t be desperate.” you giggled, kindly pushing hamzah back on the pillows and straddling him.

“can’t help it, sorry…”

he groaned when you sat on his lap, your body perfectly pressing his.

“love you so much, y’know that? love every single thing about you, pretty boy.” your hands found support on his shoulders, he enjoyed this position so much, he got to see your face and at the same time found a nice good friction.

“god i love you, i love you, love you so m-much.” his hands gripped your hips once again, and he thrusted up to feel you. the hardness inside his sweats was painful, and only you could help him out with it. he closed his eyes when you grinded down too, your core pressing with him oh so perfectly.

“open.” you said, soft voice made him melt.

hamzah opened his mouth, eyes closed still, his cheeks so red and tongue wetting his lower lip.

you shook your head with a smile, letting an airy laugh slip past your lips. god he was so fucking cute like this.

“your eyes, silly, i meant open your eyes.”

“oh…” he giggled nervously, a new side of him you didn’t quite know about he had just showed. “sorry, baby…” he pulled up to kiss your lips once again, a peck this time.

“it’s okay, you’re pretty.”

fuck, hamzah could dry hump you for eternity. his hips were kinda tired, he wanted you to do the work for him, however, he couldn’t let you, he didn’t wanna be a bother. though, he wasn’t.

“wanna make you cum..” you said breaking the comfortable silence. not very much of a silence, since his moans would constantly be adorning the space surrounding you.

“j-just… do it- please, please i’ll do anything, i promise…” hamzah pleaded once again. it was weird. so cute though, you loved when he did that. that thing with his eyes, the lust, the love.

his hips began to stutter, was he close from just humping?

“gonna take these off, okay?” you said, asking for an already given permission.

he nodded so fucking fast you thought his head was gonna fall off his neck.

hamzah admired your actions, how you got off his lap to pull his sweats off, and he just let you do it. he felt like putty, like something maleable for you to play with. he liked feeling that way.

“pretty. very pretty.” you praised his bulge, taking your time to take his briefs off. almost like you wanted to tease him.

“s-stop…” he felt nervous. even if you had seen him plenty of times, still got nervous when you praised him.

“want me to stop?” you asked, attentively. your eyes scanned his figure, looking for any discomfort. you found any.

“no! no! please j-just keep going!” you took that as a cue to start. “fuck!” a high pitched moan left his soul.

his eyes rolled back when your flat hand placed over his clothed boner, and an idea popped into your head.

“do it yourself.” you bluntly said.

his eyes opened wide, looking worried and confused. he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“i want you to do it, hamzah. please yourself, come on.” you explained better.

“b-but…”

“shh, i know you can do it, yeah? you’re such a good boy, aren’t you? so pretty for me, so sweet, so obedient… c’mon.”

he groaned again, his cock twitching inside his briefs as you praised him once again. he nodded slowly, feeling dizzy all of sudden.

shaky hands took over, hamzah slipped his dick out of his underwear and shakily touched the leaking tip. fuck, he felt so stupid, almost like all his self-pleasing knowledge had been forgotten all of sudden.

“mmhmm, shit..” he cursed under his breath when it twitched again, leaking this ridiculous amount of precum just at the thought of you watching him jerk off.

he could feel your sight on him, so expectant.

“go ahead, love.” you encouraged him, sitting closer to him, your hand on his thigh. he shivered at the touch.

“o-okay, gonna start now..” he felt as if he needed your permission, which you had given him already.

his hand wrapped around his shaft, it felt slippery and wet from all the stimulation that kissing and humping you had given him. he moaned, satisfied. his thumb circled around the head, sliding easily, and then, when his hand tightened, he stroked all the way down.

“oh god, god, oh f-fuck, y/n?” it felt so surreal. he had jerked off infinite times before this, why was he so fucking sensitive now?

your hand caressed his thigh. “yeah?”

“n-nothing.”

“keep going, you’re doing very good.” you moved closer to kiss his temple, lovingly and gently.

hamzah stroked up, and then down again. he was going at a very steady pace, trying his best not to cum quickly, since he wanted you to know how much he could handle.

not much.

“gonna tell me what has you so needy?” you asked all of sudden. and then, hamzah thought it was rather interesting to have a conversation while he was pounding it.

“uh…i- i think it’s just w-work,” he managed to reply. “been away all week..” he added after a groan, slowing down his movements.

“don’t stop.” you warned, moving your hand to engulf his own, as you helped him jerk off, steadying his shaky moves. “missed me, huh?”

“fuck yeah, a lot.” mhmm. “missed y-your voice a-and you… and your touch and, and this…” his eyebrows knitted together, he opened his mouth to moan but it was silent when you made his hand stop. “p-please, keep going…” he begged.

“you do it, love.” you said, letting his own hand move and the other hand gripped the sheets so hard you thought he was gonna rip them apart.

the wet sounds of hamzah’s skin, the lewd sounds of his hand sliding up and down his dick filled the room. it made you unbelievably worked up seeing him so desperate. it was very pretty.

he was starting to jerk off quicker, the speed alarming you. short moans came out of his throat, curses too.

“ah, ah, ah- shit! wanna cum… gonna-, c-can i?” his movements erratic and inconsistent, the glistening clear fluid coating his hand entirely from how messy he had been.

he had been so good, waiting all week for you. even if he was away filming and you were busy with college. he had been patient and waited until you both could get intimate. so good.

“cum, hamzah, be good for me, okay?” you squeezed his thigh again, giving him reassurance.

he moaned loudly, his breathing stopped, it caught up on his throat.

“wanna fill you up, god, wanna fill you up so bad, s-so bad..” he rambled slurring his words.

inside his mind, the image of him filling you up with his warm cum. it always helped him reach a decent, more than good orgasm.

your thighs pressed together and your eyes widen at his words. you bit your lower lip, anticipating his release. a small, needy whine escaped from your lips.

hamzah’s free hand looked blindly for yours, awaiting to hold onto something while he let himself go. you linked your hands and he then, only felt like he could cum.

“o-oh fuck! y/n, y/n!” there we go, his low voice carried out a cry, so pathetic. he kept stroking, wanting to let out all the built up cum he had been accumulating all damn week. “owww…” he sobbed.

hamzah’s shaky hands let go of his shaft and he opened his eyes slowly. he looked down at the mess he had made. a puddle of cum settled on his tummy, part of the sheets and his hands.

you giggled, snapping him out of his trance. hamzah looked at you with droopy eyes, tired and sleepy. he smiled lazily. silently thanking you for everything you did for him.

“y/n, i love you.” he said after a while of just trying to catch his breath.

you took his hand, the one that had cum all over, and held it up. he looked at you anticipating, those big brown eyes staring directly at your soul.

then, you did it. you licked his fingers, tasting him in your mouth. his eyes widened, the sight of you practically eating his cum made him warm all over. the knot inside his tummy started to tighten once again.

“oww… you’re gross.” he playfully said scrunching up his nose. blatantly lying. he found it hot.

“nah, you are gross, look at this mess!” you pointed at the messy sheets. hamzah rolled his eyes and sighed, tired.

“your fault.” he giggled.

kinda your fault for how fucking adorable you were. your fault for making hamzah so stupidly horny. your fault for making him love you so much.

“need to clean you up, though.” you were going to get up and look for wipes but he held your hand, dragging you back in the bed with him.

“stay with me.” he said, looking at you with those eyes he knew you loved. persuading you into just laying there. next to him.

you couldn’t say no to him, not ever. so you gave in. you threw yourself on the pillows and held his hand. your breathing synced with hamzah’s.

realisation hit you then. you leaned up to peek and held a laugh when you saw the image in front of you. hamzah’s hand gripped yours as he felt you moving. you blinked.

“your dick is still out.”

post nut clarity hit hamzah too, however he was too calm and comfy to do anything about it.

“yeah, i know..”

“okay.” you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. he leaned his on yours too, “i love you”

“mhmm, love ya’ so fuckin’ much too, ma, so much, you don’t even imagine…” hamzah snuggled closer to you, the warmth comfiness of your body next to his calmed his nerves.

comfortable silence filled the room, as your tender love filled the void.

>_<

sorry this took so long and sorry this sucks but i smoked some weed and kinda just vomited words and this came out bye

[slaying-rxna]

Hello again, Rina! It's still me. I hope you passed your exams successfully and I think your writing is quite good, but I'd recommend you to use synonyms to avoid unnecessary repetitions. And I also want to ask you to write about Kinich and fem!reader getting caught in the rain, but instead of returning to the shelter, fem!reader starts dancing with him.

Dancing with the rain

➳Genre:Fluff

➳Trope:Kinich x fem!reader

➳Warnings:Idk just some pure cute fluff

➳Might be Ooc, I HC that Kinich hates the rain, might contain grammar mistakes

➳Word count:0.8k

People would view Kinich as unkind or cold. Yet you beg to differ when you know how kind he actually is, yet his companion isn't. Ajaw is quite an insufferable menace even you can tell. Yet the two of them are quite a good duo, one is silent as space while the other is much noisier than the screams of a thousand people.

So you were more than happy that Ajaw kept his mouth shut when the rain had its downpour during one of your outdoor date into the mountains. Knowing that he would just insult both of you for this supposed 'horrible' weather, but it's quite surprising that a rain would befall to natlan, managing to experience a downpour was very rare “I apologize, I should've known it would rain”

“Come, let's seek shel-” he attempted to walk keep you away from the rain yet he noticed that you only stared into the sky. The rain was violent, the sound of pitter-patter was loud. Not to mention both your shoes are wet. Yet with your smile you made the rain a placid downpour, a state of tranquility.

The kind man only gazed through you, never looking so surprised as he did now you looked perfect yet never had he expected that you would enjoy the rain. “Don't apologize” Your voice seeped through. Although both of you were quite drenched within the range of the stream, the couple could only stay in its place. Despite Kinich not liking the rain he still remained in his position with you. He could never leave you alone.

Noticing a smile from your lips Kinich stared at you with his greenish-yellow eyes “Do you like the rain?” Kinich questioned you, although he knows the answer that will come off from your mouth.

“I don't like the rain…I love the rain” you responded to his question. A gentle smile etched into your face. While Kinich stared at you, looking so happy. “How about you?”

Returning his question, looking at him with hopeful eyes. He hates the rain, the way it would wet his clothes was annoying how could you even ask him tha- “I like the rain too”

Chuckling at his answer, you reached out your arms inviting him. “Would you like to dance then?”

“A dance?” Kinich heard that couples would sometimes go out and enjoy the rain by dancing. Kinich can dance, although you've never seen him before Mualani had a conversation with you regarding dancing. While she said that he's very good at it.

Kinich gently accepted your offer by holding your inviting arms. As both of your hands unite, you're the one that started slowly. Stepping back with your right foot the two of you danced along the raging downpour. Although the chances of getting sick were absurdly high, you managed to seek comfort within its range.

Moving along with each flow, you looked like a divine angel under Kinich’s view. The way your body went along elegantly within each second. Although Kinich didn't show it through his face, he was more than happy to be with you.

Perhaps the rain didn't ruin your date, if anything it brought luck perhaps the two of you should start a rain date. Even if he came to hate the rain, if you're in it he can love it. Continuing the slow dance both the couple were happy. Twirling around him a flow of happiness washed through you, the rain slowly calmed down as if following the flow of your dance.

Following the climax, you came to forget all of your problems. The rain had never been more beautiful with him. His hair was quite messy yet he looked pretty handsome, like this.

As the dance came through an end, the wave of happiness was replaced with tiredness seeping through. Kinich brushed through your soaked hair “I never knew you can dance so elegantly, my angel” the man complimented you as the rain had come to an end.

While the rain finally ended, Kinich immediately suggested going back home since it was getting quite dark, and that the two of you could change your wet clothes. You agreed to his suggestions as your every walk made a droplet fall through the ground.

Reaching through the doors, Kinich instantly went inside first and grabbed a towel for you. As a small smile appeared into your tired body. Finishing your quick change, the first scent that greeted you was the smell of warm choco milk.

“Here, I figured you might get cold after experiencing such a heavy downfall” He spoke with such a gentle and worried voice. “Thank you, dear.” You grabbed the mug drinking the warm choco. It was hot yet not enough to cause a burn in your tongue. It wasn't too sweet either.

A beam of appreciation was shown into your smile, minding your own business, while he could only look at you lovingly. They say nobody was perfect, he believed it until he met you. He wouldn't mind embracing the things he loathed as long as he was with you.

===============================

Small note:Hello again ^^ thank you for your request alongside your suggestion, however it may appear again in the future as English isn't really my first language but I will try my best ^^. Apologies it came out quite late than I expected. But I hope you guys like this small drabble. My small brain ran out of ideas in the end.

Please do not translate or copy my work.

[wickedscribbles]

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) ch. 4 (final)

Masterlist

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch.3

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: smut, fluff, pet names, biting, rimming, enthusiastic consent, multiple orgasms, messy sex, power bottom Logan, top Wade, teasing/banter, dirty talk, anal sex, mild genderplay

Word Count: 5K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

Wade has him on his back so fast the world tilts.

Logan’s willing to go where he wants, especially if that place is upside down on their mattress. He lands hard enough to bounce a little, huffing out a laugh, the sound ending in a pleased hum as Wade goes right back to kissing him. He wraps his legs around Wade’s waist, cups his face in his hands, wanting to touch him everywhere. This is the kind of prelude to sex that leaves him breathless; not too fast, not too slow, the anticipation of it all clinging to their skin like static.

Above him, Wade can’t seem to decide if he wants to keep kissing him – rough and enthusiastic – or talk about everything that's coming next.

“God, you looked so fucking hot punching that walking protozoa –” he gasps the words right into Logan’s mouth, and Logan can only grin back, chasing Wade’s lips for more. “Love it when you’re mean like that –”

“Oh, do you?”

“You know I do, smartass,” Wade says, his tone and his face so full of love that he might as well have called him angel. His mouth travels to the sensitive place under Logan’s jaw, teasing with teeth. “Will you tear someone in half for me next time? Will you tear me in half?”

Logan can’t stop fucking smiling. Even as he arches up and into the kisses tracing along the line of his throat, he’s smiling, feeling floaty and stupid and turned on.

“Not in the apartment, ya freak,” he manages.

He isn’t deterred. “Your freak,” Wade says. “And no, I'd wait til we took a little trip out to the woods like you want.”

“I'd like that.”

“Tearing me in half?” Wade's mouth pauses, hot and wet, at Logan's collarbone to ask the question.

“Takin’ a trip,” Logan corrects, panting a little now. Squirming for more attention, his cock hard trapped between their bodies.

“Oh, okay, okay. So we can screw in the woods without having to worry about staining the sheets? And play out the ‘fucking a lumberjack’ fantasy one of us may or may not be harboring?”

Logan raises an eyebrow at the lumberjack bit, but chooses to say nothing. Hey, whatever floats his boat. God knows they’ve done far stranger things.

“Sure. Or fuckin’ up the carpet. Been a minute since we had a real rollaround.”

Wade hums his agreement at that, trailing a delicate hand down the length of Logan’s bicep, then his forearm, until their fingertips are touching. Logan’s fingers twitch when he touches them, their hands intertwining. Willingly, he lets Wade bring his hand to his mouth – knows instantly what he wants him to do. He opens his mouth and takes Wade’s fingers on his tongue.

“Good boy,” Wade breathes, and Logan can feel himself leaking in his boxers, dripping a spot against the cotton. He pants out a shaky sort of noise in answer, maybe an agreement or disagreement to the praise, he doesn't know, can’t think. “Yeah, you know just what to do, don’t you?”

His lips close around what's in his mouth, tight, sucking at them just like he'd sucked Wade's cock this morning. Getting them sloppy, dribbling with spit, some of it stringing out of his mouth and into his facial hair. There are still days when they're in too big of a damn hurry to care, but this foreplay is erotic on its own, too.

For a while, they linger suspended in that moment, Wade straddling his lap and watching with fascinated eyes as his fingers move slowly in and out of Logan's mouth. They look at each other, into each other, long past the shyness.

The way Wade looks at him still makes Logan burn, two parts of him trying to run away from one another. It's nice to be wanted. It's terrifying to be wanted. He thinks that the fear of ruining this is getting quieter, though. He hopes.

“Wanna try something,” Wade says all at once, his face brightening with the type of mischief Logan knows only too well. “Here – lift up for a minute –”

Letting Wade’s fingers slide out of his mouth, he does as he's told, spreading his legs a little wider as Wade reaches behind them for one of the pillows. He places it just underneath Logan's hips, turning his attention back to his naked torso, raining kisses on his body.

“Need these off,” Wade murmurs, almost to himself, tugging at Logan's boxers. Breathing shakily, he obliges him, kicking them to the floor. His cock springs up as Wade sheds him pajamas as well, resting heavy above his abdomen in anticipation. He's fucking restless for something, anything, a flurry of past positions floating past his eyes like a slideshow.

For a few seconds, Logan thinks it's his turn to get sucked off, and he's definitely not complaining. Wade lavishes attention on the meeting of his hip and thigh, biting in just the right way to make Logan jump, smirking to himself when he earns an arch off the mattress for more. Logan's palm rests on his head, encouraging. Trusting.

But he bypasses Logan's cock like it's not there. Instead, he trails past, licking a stripe down his balls, pressing his scarred palms to Logan's thighs to spread them wider, and – oh. Oh okay. Wade’s hot breath hesitates over his hole for only an instant before his tongue is tracing the most delicate circles.

“F-fuck!”

Logan squirms at the unexpected sensation, curling his toes. He feels Wade's hands twitch where they rest on his inner thighs, and looks down to see him looking back.

“Okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, s’good, I just didn't know –” Logan answers, far too quickly. He blinks, a lot, in an effort to remember how to put one word in front of the other. “You can keep going. If you want.”

“If I want,” Wade repeats wryly. “Yeah, okay, champ.”

Only capable of swallowing hard in response, Logan lets his head fall back against the mattress, his whole body tense with the thought of what's going to happen next. He feels Wade's breath back at his hole, and God, it's so sensitive there, his tongue lapping at him as he spreads his legs further.

It's not quite like anything he's felt before. It's good.

“Relax,” comes Wade's voice, light with amusement before his fucking tongue goes right back to Logan's ass. His knee gets pushed up, opening him like an old paperback.

He's aware that his chest is rising and falling and rising and falling, a rapid in and out. The little circles that Wade traces with his tongue shift into broader strokes, something deeper. Logan moans with the change, thrusting up into nothing.

“Feels so fuckin’ good, Red,” he says softly, his voice coming out smaller than he thought it would. “I don’t, I haven’t –n-never –”

He’s aware that he doesn’t make any sense, but Wade doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it encourages him, a low hum drawn from the other man’s throat as he pulls away to look at him. His eyes are massive between the vee of Logan’s legs.

“Never ever? Am I actually taking a sweet, precious piece of your virginity?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan whines. “Keep going.”

Wade ducks back down, but not before babbling something about best day of his life and definitely going on Tumblr (and it had better not).

He can’t wait anymore for Wade to touch him, fuck him, whatever he’d planned to add to the mix. Getting eaten out is such a tease but he needs more and he needs it now. Logan grasps his cock, already slippery with pre-come, and starts a rhythm that has his head swimming immediately.

With a hiss, Wade digs his nails into the flesh of his thighs, groaning into him. Logan has a feeling that if his mouth were free to say something, he’d be giving him a string of encouragement. Shit, even imagining what Wade would be saying is enough to turn him on.

Moaning out something that strongly resembles Wade’s name buried in a sea of praise, Logan grinds back on his face, chasing more, so so so close.

That’s it, baby, the Wade in his head says. Actual Wade is panting hard against his ass now, getting sloppy. Come for me. Know you want to. Pretty pretty please.

Logan’s eyes roll back. He comes in frenetic bursts all over Wade’s face and shoulder, vaguely aware that now he has pulled away to praise him, kissing up and down Logan's thigh to watch the whole show. Logan's hands scrabble in the sheets, some pathetic little sound coming out of his throat.

“Peanut, Jesus fucking Christ…”

He says something like ungh in answer, looking down at Wade covered in his come. He is so hot with that satisfied smirk on his face, it’s ridiculous. And then he takes a finger and drags it across the side of his face, where there’s a streak of Logan’s spend, and pops it into his mouth.

Fuck, okay.

Barely done from their first round, Logan’s cock twitches again.

“Got me good, Pollock,” Wade comments, still wearing that crooked grin that makes his heart do shit that Logan would worry about if he didn’t know it was always healing. “You liked that, huh?”

It takes a lot to resist the urge to say no shit, but Logan manages. Instead, he runs his hand up and down Wade’s cheek, feeling his spend there all sticky, his mind swimming with sex-drunk praise (you’resofuckingprettywantyousobadithurts).

“Gonna sit on your dick now,” he says instead, and Wade backs off of him fast to allow that to happen.

Their places swapped, Logan palms at Wade’s cock tenderly, not missing the way Wade’s lips part on a soft little ah of need. Wade’s dick is damn near perfect, fulfilling every stupid fantasy Logan had before he worked up the guts to come knocking on his door and do something about it. Bottoming out on Wade still stretches him out so full and delicious, turns him dumb in a way that topping him doesn’t – though he won't say no to either.

He lifts his hips, situating Wade underneath him, when he sees two fingers trailing up his chest.

“Sure you’re wet enough?” Wade teases. “Could finger you a little more, just to be safe.”

Fingertips land on Logan’s mouth, and oh, does this man know how to push his luck. Faking a scowl, Logan takes Wade’s middle finger playfully between his teeth and bites down hard, breaking skin and crushing bone. Blood wells up all at once, his mouth full of copper, and Wade gasps in delight as his cock twitches against Logan’s inner thigh.

“There’s my kitty cat,” he praises, grinning like floodlights. Though broken, his finger is still hanging on after he pulls it away. “Aww, you didn't bite it off this time.”

“‘M feelin’ generous.”

“God!” Wade laughs as Logan guides himself down, trailing off halfway through whatever quip he’d cooked up. He grabs Logan's thighs, moaning at the sensation. “Fuck, princess, you’re still so fuckin’ tight –”

As Logan seats himself fully, he can tell that Wade’s already regretting not being on top. His mouth is doing that cute little scrunch thing it does when he gets impatient. But Logan loves seeing Wade all desperate, too horny to think straight, begging to fuck him or be fucked. If Logan weren’t just as desperate half the time, he’d make Wade wait ages for what he wants. Maybe someday they’ll cool down enough to try that.

Maybe.

Because despite having already come once already, Logan’s not in much better shape. Getting eaten out had eased the way for Wade inside him, but the stretch is still toeing the edge of pain and bliss. He knows as soon as they move, it’ll melt nicely into the latter.

“Hurry up and fuck me,” Wade says, pouting. He’s already breathless, his face flushed, gripping Logan’s thighs so hard that they’re bruising and healing and bruising again in a continuous cycle. It’s so hot. “Please please please, you’re so tight, I’m not gonna last, please.”

If that doesn’t light Logan up from the inside out, nothing will.

Pausing only to give him a yeah, okay, Logan grinds his hips down hard. Wade’s answering whine is like magic, high and keening, something that Logan’s going to replay in his mind over and over like the mixtapes high schoolers used to make for each other to flirt. He could probably pick out each individual note, tell you the crescendo, see the arc of it burned on the inside of his eyelids.

Wade looks like a porn star underneath him, mouth hanging open, eyes unfocused, hips meeting Logan’s perfectly every – fucking – time. Logan’s cock is flushed and hard between them again, slapping skin with every thrust.

“Logan,” Wade moans out.

Logan’s thrusts get just a little harder, a little faster. That tight tight sensation of climax sits somewhere in the bottom of his stomach, in reach if he worked for it, but he’s nowhere as close as Wade is. Wade’s delirious with it, right there sitting on the brink, and Logan feels like he’s on fire with how sexy he finds the man.

“Yeah?” Logan purrs back.

“So fuckin’ close, right there, gonna come –”

“I can tell.”

Later, Wade will give him shit for being such a tease – and tell him how hot it was. But for now, Logan pins both of Wade’s wrists in place, knowing he’ll try to cover his face. He wants to watch the whole show, not just the trailer. He lets his fingers trace through the other man’s, a part of him loving the added intimacy, and greedily takes in every second of Wade coming inside him.

“Lo-ogan, ah, shit shit shit –!”

Wade rolls his hips up slow and deep as he comes, head thrown back, filling Logan with warmth. Logan honest-to-God shivers, knowing his cock is drooling all over Wade’s stomach just from watching him. Playing with him a little, Logan gently thrusts down, stimulating him through the aftershocks just to watch him gasp and jolt. The little sounds he makes after coming, all fucked-out and satiated, are right up there for Logan with the usual sounds of sex.

(Huh. Maybe he likes Wade’s voice even more than he thought.)

Wade's face is still flushed when he can make eye contact again, and Logan only smiles at him, pleased with himself.

“No fair,” Wade grumbles.

Logan leans down to kiss him, bumping their foreheads together. They’re both covered in a fine sheen of sweat, among other things, and he lingers there to get Wade to kiss him back nice and slow. At this point, he really does feel drunk, heavy-limbed and satisfied without the theoretical liver damage.

“Don’t see what’s unfair about it,” Logan replies once they’ve broken away again. “Just gave me a damn good show on top of a phenomenal fuck. If I could reach my wallet right now, I’d tip ya.”

“Peanut, I swear on Fox Studio’s grave, if you keep pulling this kind of dialogue out of nowhere I’m going to have a stroke.” Wade turns to glare at a random corner of the room. “And you had better watch it. We did not talk about this before the chapter started.”

Threats to no one aside, Logan just shakes his head, unfazed. Something makes him want to keep talking, and he’s not sure if it’s how loose and warm his body feels, or the day they’ve had, or a combination of both.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you come,” he confesses, and Wade looks up at him with what can only be described as a mix of shock and horror.

“Oooookay, that’s enough for you, big guy –”

Wade struggles to get out from underneath him, attempting to lift his hips, but it’s no use. Logan sees it coming and shifts his weight more fully onto the mattress, effectively trapping him in place.

“Nope,” he says, unable to keep from sounding a little smug. “Think I’m gonna set my big adamantium ass right here until you learn to take a compliment.”

“Yeah? And what if I shoot my way out?”

It doesn’t surprise Logan in the slightest when Wade pulls the .45 from behind the headboard and aims it between his eyes. It does, however, annoy him. He sinks down further, aware that Wade’s gone soft, come slipping loose in a steady stream between their bodies onto the sheets.

“Rhonda’s gonna be pissed if she hears a gunshot, you know that. Slap us with another fee for damages, and I sure as shit ain’t coverin’ it just because you don’t want to hear how goddamn good you look.”

Wade’s finger plays with the trigger, stroking it as if in thought. His mouth scrunches. In all honesty, Logan wouldn’t mind a shot or two – it’s been a while since he’s taken one, and he knows Wade wouldn’t get him anywhere awful. They like each other well enough to spare major head wounds now, and that’s typically the only unspoken rule.

But to his surprise, Wade puts the gun back where he’d stashed it, flopping his head back on the pillows with a dramatic sigh.

“Fine, you monumental pain in my ass. What else do you want to tell me that’s so important?”

Logan pauses a moment, amused. He wasn’t quite sure he’d get this far. Half of him pictured this ending in an all-out bloodbath – the kind they’d have to replace the sheets and the carpet for. Maybe even have to paint the walls again. God, he wishes they didn’t live in a fucking apartment – or the city.

“You’re hot as hell, Wade,” he starts. Wade’s mouth is very scrunched, eyebrows drawn down in a similar pout. He looks like he’d rather be sitting on a stick of lit dynamite than listening to this. “What, you didn’t think I thought that? When we’ve been fuckin’ each other senseless for this long?”

“Just thought maybe I had a magic dick,” Wade mutters.

“Hah. Never said you don’t.”

Logan finally lets Wade’s cock slip out of him entirely, crawling up until his mouth is inches from Wade’s. The proximity makes the other man’s eyes dilate, breath catching, and Logan could live off of the thick smell of sweat and lust and come they’ve created in this room together.

He kisses Wade, quick, just a taste, and leaves him wanting more.

“You’re fuckin’ funny.”

Another kiss, this time a little deeper, Wade reaching up for him with half a grin on his face. He’s getting hard again – Logan can feel it against the muscles of his abdomen. The next time Wade's mouth collides with his, he brings teeth, taking Logan's bottom lip and pulling hard enough to make him moan.

“You’re – wild – to watch in a fight. Sweet – to the people you care about.”

They’re making out in earnest now, Logan gasping to get the words out as Wade drinks him up.

“You –uh!”

Caught off guard, Logan doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence as Wade flips him on his side. Nose to nose with one another now, he lets Wade continue his desperate barrage of kisses, hooking an arm around Logan’s neck. Their stiff cocks rub together, tantalizing friction, and Wade trails his lips to Logan’s ear.

“You like me all that much, get on your hands and knees.”

His voice is low and sultry in a way that lets Logan know that they’re far from done. Laughing softly, Logan does as he asks, Wade moving around him as if they’re different parts of the same body. Planting his palms on the mattress, he closes his eyes in anticipation. Wade slides his cock against his ass, the briefest tease, before placing himself at his entrance.

He doesn't waste time pushing back inside. Logan's body takes him easily, a breathless sound of excitement leaving him as Wade’s hands come to settle on his hips. Though he can't see Wade's face, he can feel the shift in energy – he can hear Wade's heart pumping fast, sense his heightened enthusiasm.

Settled inside Logan up to the hilt, Wade shifts his hips in a lazy figure eight.

“You ready?”

Logan nods, his uh-huh coming out like a groan of pleasure. He stares down at his own spread hands, the ruined sheets, biting his lip as Wade continues to tease him.

It doesn't last long. Less than a second passes between his confirmation and Wade’s first sharp thrust, bullying Logan forward before he can get his bearings. Wade wastes no time in setting a punishing rhythm, leaving him helpless to do anything but arch back into what he's getting.

He pants and moans every time Wade comes close to nailing that spot, feeling his claws start to slip out bit by bit. Their mattress topper is in bits and pieces under the cover of the sheet, more foam chunks than anything now, and he's about to make it a lot worse. Logan lets himself sink claws deep into the padding, leaning his face forward into the pillows to muffle the most embarrassing of the noises he's making.

Wade isn't letting him get away that easily.

“That's my fucking big boy,” he breathes, and Logan lights up with a blush bright enough to color his fucking chest. His cock jumps. “Take me so well every time, don't ya? Every – fuckin' – inch?”

Oh god oh fuck.

“Wade,” he says into the pillows, practically mewling out the word. Latched into the mattress with his claws anchoring him in place as Wade nails that incredible place right there oh fuck oh Christ. “Hah, fuck, you gotta slow down, or – I –”

“Or what, sweetheart?”

A clever hand reaches around to jerk Logan's cock, nice and deep the way he needs it, and Logan moans so deep in his throat it comes out more like a growl. Wade matches his thrusts in time, slower now but fuller, getting Logan to cry out louder than he'd ever admit he gets.

“You gotta slow down, Red,” Logan manages to repeat, but he already knows it's no use. “Gotta s-slow down, oh f-fuck!”

He comes much harder than he thought he would, hissing out a string of swears into the poor abused mattress. Coating the sheets below him, watching as some dribbles onto his thigh. Wade pushes his hips higher, fucking him through it like it's easy, his fingers brushing soothing circles as Logan shivers and spills and pants.

His whole body tingles with that sensitive sensation he's come to equate with powerfully good sex, with a certain look in Wade's eyes or a tone in his voice. He's going to feel this later, the honey-hum ache lingering in every muscle, but it's more than worth it.

“Flip over,” Logan insists after the moment has passed. “Wanna watch you come again.”

A cocky tsk from behind him catches Logan off guard. A gentle hand lands on the curve of his ass. Loving.

“Aw, peanut. Baby. Who said you were done?” Wade’s voice comes out light and cheerful, but they both know what the undercurrent holds.

Yeah, he's definitely in his bossy little top mood now, Logan thinks. Not that he doesn't find it incredibly hot. But it's also fun to be a bit of a brat every once and a while.

“Don't think I can,” he tries, sliding his claws out of the mattress but settling firmly. “C'mon, Wade. Fuck me ‘til you finish.” Logan hesitates. “Please?”

An equally long pause. He can almost hear Wade thinking.

“Nahhh,” he decides. “You can do one more for me, then I'll fill you up until you fucking drip.”

This time, the pointed gap in the air is for Logan to really say no, use a safe word, if he needs to. And he definitely doesn't need to, doesn't want to. Besides, he's never been one to back away from a challenge, especially if it's Wade who's handing it out.

“Yes, sir,” Logan says mockingly, lifting his ass back up in the air.

He hears Wade make a strangled little noise of want before gripping his ass tight.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls, pushing Logan down until he's flat on his stomach on the bed.

Logan’s pretty sure he whines at that. It’s hard to tell anymore.

To say that the sheets are saturated in come would be an understatement at this point, but Logan can't focus on that as much as he's focusing on getting hard again, Wade’s teeth sinking deep into the side of his neck. The pain is nothing compared to the pleasure, a drop of water in the ocean – and Logan’s fucking dying of thirst.

He breaks the skin. Granted, it takes a little more effort for him to do it than it does for Logan, but he doesn’t mind the extra gnashing around. Chewing on his neck like it’s a goddamned squeaky toy. He’s flattered by it, in a way, that Wade would do all that just to spill blood for sex.

Wade’s tongue laps at the ring of blood he’s produced as he presses into his ass again, slow, and Logan can tell that he’s trying to hold back. To really spoil him with this extra orgasm, instead of keeping it all tit for tat. He doesn’t know why – he’ll pester him later about it and only get ‘cause I love you and I wanted to, you fuckin’ beefslab of a man, in answer.

But right now, Wade’s hot, panting mouth trails to Logan’s ear, and his teeth pull on the lobe, hard. Logan bares his neck further with a near silent intake of breath, wordless permission, and that’s all that Wade needs. Without further ado, Wade’s teeth seize around the loose cartilage and bite, ripping it off in a gush of blood.

“Fuck –!” Logan hisses, feeling the warmth of it trickle down on the sheets near his face.

“I’m trying my best, dollface,” Wade says sweetly in reply. Logan wishes he could see him. “You have no idea how good you look like that, all spread out like a two dollar whore on nickel night. Really putting my stamina to the test.”

He sighs, moving his hips so gently he may as well not be moving them at all. Despite insisting that Wade come a final time so that they could be finished with the whole romp, Logan finds himself growing impatient. There’s blood in it for him now, literally, and his cock is throbbing where it’s trapped against his stomach and the bed.

“But when a Scout makes a promise, they keep a promise. Right?”

“I promise you’re a pain in my ass,” Logan huffs. “Wade, c’mon, if you’re gonna fuck me then fuck me, don’t just –”

The words screw around are a little lost in the sudden snapping of Wade’s hips. Logan gasps instead, taken off guard by the instant ferocity of it. One of Wade’s hands grips a fistful of Logan’s hair, rough, incredible, while the other palm stays firm at his hip, holding them both in place.

“What were you saying, honey badger?” Though the words are innocent, Wade’s voice hits his (regenerating) ear in a mocking growl, all exertion.

Logan can’t even form a fucking sentence, let alone a smartass response. Wade knows him well enough, is smart enough to know exactly where his prostate is, how deep to press and for how long. He can play his body like an instrument few have taken the time to learn, let alone master.

Sinking his claws back into the mattress, scrabbling for any sort of purchase, Logan presses his face into the pillows with a desperate sound. He wants to tell Wade how good it feels, that he’s nailing his prostate just right, stirring up a heat inside of him that no one’s ever quite hit before, so good he wants to sob, but all he can do is lie there ass up and gasp out with every thrust. He tries to match Wade’s pace, hold the rhythm.

“Am I nailing your g-spot, baby?” Wade purrs, and something like scandal and delight war for attention in Logan’s mind. “Yeah, I feel you, pussy so fuckin’ tight.”

“Wade, o-oh Christ,” he says, breath hitching. Tears sting the corners of his eyes and he’s torn between so many points of pleasure and his cock is gliding as Wade pushes him forward, he’s going to come again, just as Wade had said he would – “ – Wade, Wade, Wade –”

He’s still chanting Wade’s name, voice rising an octave or so, as orgasm hits him like a goddamn train. The warmth of it coats his belly and chest, his face muffled deep into the pillows – tears and spit dampening the material. He arches back hard as Wade thrusts a handful of times to finish not long behind him.

“Fuck,” Wade says under his breath. “Kitty cat, oh fuck yes.”

The quiet that falls after, only their combined breath, is so deep and peaceful that Logan passes out almost right away. He isn’t sure how long Wade lets him sleep – only that he wakes up to his shoulder being shaken gently, Wade standing beside the bed with a fond smirk on his face.

“You’re gonna be stuck to the bed if you stay there like that, cowboy,” he tells him, offering a hand to help him up. “C’mon. Let’s get clean.”

Logan makes a grumpy sort of sound, too comfortable to want to move. “Only if we get to sleep all day tomorrow.”

Wade’s face brightens at the idea. “Fuck yeah – pile all the blankets on the couch and order takeout?”

It sounds like a dream come true.

“Yeah.”

Logan takes his hand. Once they’re clean, with the sheets and blankets replaced, it’s the deepest and most comfortable sleep of his life.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

A Visit

Note: A short one but filled with all the right amount of tension. (:

Your face scrunched up in determination as you pulled yourself up one more time, the burn in your arms mentally pushing you further. Just one more is what you kept telling yourself. You were 5 pull-ups from breaking your record and you’d be damned if the exhaustion kept you from achieving it. Soft rock music played in the background as you could feel the sweat beading down your back and forehead, the small basement windows didn’t do much to cool you down during your workout. Jethro had installed the pull up bars for you, saying something about load bearing beams and it was safer to install them down in the basement. He just forgot to tell you how hot it got down there.

You lifted yourself up one last time before dropping to the floor with a guttural cry of accomplishment. The cold polished concrete floor felt nice against your overheated skin. You took a minute to catch your breath before going over to turn the music up a little louder and begin some simple stretches.

Starting in the butterfly position on your yoga mat, you leaned all the way forward, your forehead almost touching your toes and counted to 10. You moved onto some hamstring stretches and then some hip crossovers when you spotted Jethro at the top of the stairs.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked from the floor with a smile.

"Not long enough," was his cheeky reply as he descended the stairs and stood over you. He was dressed in his work attire, making you wonder if he was just here for a visit or if he had yet to change into his casual clothes.

You sat up on your hands and crossed your legs in a sitting position, cocking your head to the side with a smirk.

"Here for work or pleasure?"

He kneeled down in front of you, his large hands resting on your thighs as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Why not both?"

You gave him what he wanted, sitting up so you could properly wrap your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his short hair. Making out with Jethro was definitely one of your favorite past times. He always took his time, each kiss filled with love and his hands never stayed in one place for too long. Like in the moment, his hands moved from your thighs to cradle your face, fingers creeping towards the back of your neck, angling your head up for a deeper kiss, earning a small moan from you as his tongue met yours.

Just as you were about to really get into it, uncrossing your legs and kneeling on your knees so you were both at the same height, he pulled away, peppering kisses down your neck.

"As much as I'd love to continue this, I've got Torres waiting in the car outside for me. I just wanted to stop by and tell you that I might be late for dinner tonight. We're on our way to follow up on a lead."

You groaned at his words and threw him an almost pouty frown.

"You get me all worked up and then just leave me needy. Terrible."

He chuckled and looked down with a smile. "We're in the same boat sweetheart. I come home to find you sweaty and stretching in positions that'd have any man drooling. I can't even stand up right now."

You licked your suddenly dry lips while glancing down at the obvious bulge in his dress pants, before he gave you a warning look.

"I'll make it up to you tonight. I promise."

You rolled your eyes at his insinuation and answered him with a peck on the lips.

"You better."

It only took a few minutes for Jethro to gain control of his body again as you used the time to head upstairs and package some leftover homemade enchiladas for his team, spotting Torres through the window, drumming his fingers on the open car window, clearly becoming impatient.

You met Jethro at the front door, handing him the tupperware of food with a kiss.

"Be safe," you told him, just like every time he left for work.

"I'll try," he teased with a wink, walking out the door. You gave Torres a wave which he reciprocated, eyes lighting up when he saw Jethro headed over to him with food. You were sure the quickest way to his heart was a good home cooked meal.

You waited till they drove off, the car no longer in visibility before shutting and locking the door, headed back down to the basement to finish your workout session.

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Eight - Deep into the hole

“I can't believe this is happening. What do you think happened to him?” Amelie asks, looking more than a little worked up.

“I really don't know…” You lie. It feels awful lying to her, but telling her the truth would be far worse. Why did you ever have to cross paths with Lestat?

“I can't believe it.” She says again.

You focus on making the coffee. There was very little chance of you getting any sleep right now anyway. You pour two cups and hand one to Amelie. She takes it with a soft ‘thank you.’

“You know… you were the last person I saw him with…”

You look at her. “Please tell me you're not accusing me of anything. Amelie, I don't know where he is.” 

“I know. I was just saying…” The tone of her voice leaves you a little unconvinced. There's doubt lingering in your mind and for the first time ever you're left wondering who your real friends might be.

“I'm a lot of things, but a murderer ain't one.”

Amelie seems to realize how her words had sounded and moves closer to you. She reaches out for your hand and sighs loudly. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. I've just been thinking too much.”

“I know. I'm sorry. Please don't let whatever is happening come between us. You're one of the few people I have.”

Amelie puts down her coffee so she can hug you. You return the gesture, but doubt is still eating away at your mind.

‘Come to me, Chéri.’

You hear him in your head. He was probably disappointed you had left. You needed time to think before you went back. There was too much going on.

You wake suddenly. Light is illuminating your room through your curtains. Amelie is fast asleep on your couch and you're curled up in a chair beside her. Two forgotten cups of coffee sit on the table.

Your head pounds as you get up out of the chair. You take a few moments to gather yourself and then start cleaning up. Amelie only stirs after you start filling the sink with water to wash up with.

“What time is it?” She asks, stretching.

“Noon.”

“Oh no! I'm supposed to be at the theater to answer questions about Noah. Damn it. I have to go.” She scrambles to get up.

“Wait a minute.” You wipe your hands and walk over to her. “What do you mean?”

“The police were going to go back to the theater today to ask questions. I promised Jack I'd be there.”

You feel an uneasy feeling in your body. “I'll take you.”

Arriving at the theater, you only see one police car parked outside. It gives you a feeling of dread as you look at it. Amelie leads the way inside.

All the performers are gathered in the lobby. They're all talking amongst each other. Through the commotion you can see Jack talking to two officers. After a few moments he turns to everyone and steps up on a chair.

“Quiet!”

Everyone falls silent. Jack turns to the officers. The tallest of the two steps forward. “We're here to enquire about Noah. It would seem his disappearance holds more questions than answers. One by one we're going to take you into the theater and ask you questions. If anyone knows anything about where he may be, dead or alive, please come forward.”

It feels like it gets harder to breathe.

The shorter officer steps forward and calls the first name. While they go inside, the rest of the crew all begin talking again. They're all trying to figure out what's happening. Jack gets bombarded with questions.

You take a seat on one of the small couches in the lobby. Amelie turns and looks at you quietly. She walks over and takes a seat beside you. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just… can't believe this is happening. Do they really think something happened to Noah?”

“His sister certainly thinks so. She went to his place and all his stuff was still there, but the door was locked. Reckon he was taken or something before he even got home.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Was Lestat even going to do anything about all of this? He knows what's happening. He surely knows how much trouble you're in. Then again, can the police even connect you with Noah's disappearance. No one actually saw you with him alone. Lestat came in quick at the time and took him just as fast.

There's no evidence you were with him after the show.

One by one more performers were called into the theater. The ones who have been questioned already get asked to leave immediately. You watch each of them head on home.

Jack comes over to you after half the lobby is empty. He sees you with Amelie.

“I didn't realize you were. You don't need to be here.”

You look up at him. “Don't they want to question everyone?”

“Yes, but you're clear.”

You furrow your brows at him. “What do you mean I'm clear?”

“I already told the police that after the incident on stage, you left and Noah came to me. You were gone before the end of the show.”

“What?”

“Noah came to talk to me after you left the stage that night. I don't know where he went after, but when I came to your room, you were already gone.”

Jack doesn't know about the brief altercation in your dressing room. It really did happen too quickly for anyone to notice.

“Oh, I see.”

Jack places a hand on your shoulder in support. “You look tired. Go home.”

“No, let me stay.”

The short officer comes out to call for the next person when he sees you and Jack. He walks over and checks his list. “You're the pianist.”

“That's right.”

“Jack has already cleared up your whereabouts, but may we ask you some questions?”

Jack goes to interfere, but you're faster. “Of course. I'll come with you now.”

Jack looks at you with a column expression and watches you go with the officer.

Amelie looks up at him. “She'll be fine. She always is.”

“I know.”

Inside the theater you make your way to where the tall officer is. He's writing some things down. As you approach he looks up.

“This is the pianist Jack mentioned,” the other officer said.

“Oh. Wasn't expecting you here today.”

“I want to help if I can.” You tell him.

He nods. “I'm officer Michaels. That's officer Jackson. Take a seat, ma'am.”

You sit down beside him.

“Did you know Noah?” He asks.

“Not very well. He came to the theater to perform. Jack had suggested we do a duet, but I declined.”

“Yes, I heard as much. May we ask why?”

“I perform alone. I play solo.”

Michaels nods and makes a note of that. He looks at you again. “What happened that night?”

“I was performing. Same as I do every Friday. I was only just into my first song when Noah stormed the stage singing his heart out. I was furious, but only because he ruined my music. Not that he was a bad singer, just that I like my music to speak without the need for words.”

Michaels nods again. “Then what happened?”

Lestat happened. But you can't tell him that.

“I left the stage, ending my performance early. I was not in much mood to be made a fool of. I retreated to my dressing room to gather my things.”

“And then?”

“I went home. I was too embarrassed and furious to talk to anyone. I was gone before the show was over. Didn't even say bye to Jack.”

It wasn't a complete lie. It wasn't the whole truth either.

“I see. Jack said as much. He spoke to Noah briefly and then went to check on you after he had the next performer on stage. Your dressing room was empty. No sign of Noah either. You did not leave with him that night?”

“Not at all.”

Michaels makes a note. “Understood. Thank you for your time, ma'am.”

You nod and rise from the seat. However, before you get too far, you turn. “May I ask, what do you think happened to him?”

“I can't say for certain, but it is likely he disappeared after leaving the theater, but before reaching his home. Rest assured, We will find our answers.”

You nod and leave quietly.

By the time you're leaving the theater, Amelie is going in for questioning. You don't stop to talk to anyone, just like the others did before you. You're on your way home when someone comes up beside you.

“Hey there.”

You turn and see Eleanor has joined you. You had just wanted to go home.

“Hello.”

“May I join you for a moment?” She asks kindly.

“Sure.”

You walk in silence for a few moments before she talks. “My brother wrote about you in his letter to me.”

“He did?” You ask, almost worried about what he had said. You felt too involved in something you didn't actually do.

“He said he had the most beautiful piano piece he had ever heard in his life. He had said to me that he was going to sing to that piano one day.”

You look at her. “He really wanted that?”

“Yes. My brother is an admirer of the arts. Music is his passion.” She smiles. “He used to sing to me all the time.

“I see…”

“It's a shame I didn't get to see him sing with you. You'd make a good pair.”

Her comment makes you feel rather sick. You can feel your stomach turning as you walk. You just wanted to go home and disappear for a few days.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… tired.”

She seems to fall for your lie and loops her arm around yours. “Let me walk you home.”

You decide to just let her.

As you walk you drift away with your thoughts. It's still day, so Lestat will be asleep. Should you go visit him at nightfall? Should you just leave him be? Lestat seems like more trouble than he's worth.

Yet, the way he looks at you. The way he held you in his arms and kissed you. You can't deny your attraction to him. Lestat was like a drug you couldn't get enough of. You wanted to see him again.

Though he is still the reason this whole mess has happened.

You were confused on what to do.

Before you know it you're standing on your doorstep. Eleanor lets go of your arm and smiles kindly at you.

“Take care.”

You find yourself smiling softly. “I'll try.”

She walks away slowly, clearly lost in her own thoughts. You can't help watching her go. She shouldn't have come here. Everything would have been fine had she simply not come here.

Too late to do anything about it now.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4 @darkqueen1995 @bridkesby @caribbeangal @sarcasticandfangirl @missjadesfics @kaybart19 @whereismymindnow @chauchirem @angelrenee239 @ppureheroiine

[nekohime19]

AITA for punching my girlfriend in the face?

(Part two of the previous post!! Let's go! Love writing funny looney toons style things like that. It's still Wukong POV.)

I didn't expect to get that much answers 😅. Anyway, thanks for the wisdom.

For those who didn’t see my last post (AITA for sleeping with the guy my girlfriend is cheating on me with) : I have a girlfriend (Venom) who cheated on me with another guy (Six). So out of pettiness I went to see Six. I learned he wasn't aware of my existence and was getting played too. We bonded, got wasted and kinda slept together.

Here are my answers to all your comments :

LaZen :

NTA, thought you definitely need to break up with her like yesterday, cheating is not cool and poor six who was the side dish :c its going to be awkward but six and you need to talk with a nice breakfast about what you two want to do now, revenge? Just a one night thing? Or get to know each other, wich i think is going to be the latter since both of you were getting along, the guy just got to town, maybe show him around as friends?

OP response :

Yeah, I think it's due time I confront Venom, even if I really don't want to. Idk, guess she's been with me for a long time so it's somehow scary to move on. I honestly don't know what I want with Six. I've never been interested in guys before? And maybe he only got pulled by the mood? Anyway, you're right, we do need to talk. Idk if I can make breakfast but, hey, burned egg aren't THAT bad.

Lagt :

Anyway not the asshole, maybe a stupid move but at that point why even bother coming back together if you two were already broke up? Like it feels like she couldn't decide

NTA

OP response :

😬 You're really calling me out with that one. Venom and I do have a pretty weird way to settle things. Guess I just got used to the constant breaking up and getting back together.

Sakurabloom_26 :

NTA, OP it doesn’t matter the reason, she cheated on you and played Six for a fool by making him her AP.

It wasn’t ok that you slept with her AP before breaking up with her (especially since the two of you were drunk), but considering you both were played for fools, I can’t blame you for shooting your shot.

As for what to do, wait for Six to wake up and decide on how the two of you are going to catch Venom in the act and then dump her.

Regarding Six, I’d take it slow, offer to be his friend and if you think there’s a genuine connection there, ask him out on a date (something simple like a coffee date, or a picnic), but be sure to assure him that if he doesn’t feel the same way that you still want to be friends (you both sound like you just need someone to genuinely be there for each other, so awkward emotions shouldn’t mean that your friendship has to end 😌)

Best of luck to you OP, I’m rooting for you 😊

OP response :

Yeaaah, wine really got into our heads and maybe we shouldn't have slept together. Honestly, being friends with Six doesn't sound bad. I’ve never been interested in guys before so it's pretty new. The thing is I don't know if I felt like that because of the mood or because of genuine feelings? Taking it slow might be better, especially since we're both kinda still with Venom at the moment?? Thanks!

Mystsong :

NTA, you were cheated on by Venom and Six had no clue what is or was going on. Not sure it was a good idea for you and Six to sleep together but you were also both impaired by alcohol so you both weren't thinking at the time. I'd definitely stay away from Venom and take things slow and steady with Six and see if there's something there. Also please be careful with Venom I've heard of some ex boyfriends/ex girlfriends doing some crazy things when they get mad at their exes or to keep control of their exes...and she sounds dangerous to do that. Also getting advice from some friends and family like your successor, Bud, might also be a good idea especially if you want to get proof of what Venom is up to and has been doing. Hope this helps you out. (Hugs sent)

OP response :

The things alcohol makes you do. Talking it out with Six might be for the best, idk if he'll want to see me again though? Guess I'll just have to ask. Maybe we can just be friends for now until we figure it out. Venom can be intense, yeah. I wouldn't put it past her to pull some shit like that. I don't want to involve Bud in this mess though, he's not really aware of me and Venom and he has enough problems because of me. (Hugs received)

Sag3mint :

Honestly wondering what Venom's reaction will be. Anger probably. 🤔

But once she realises that the reason why you and Six met is because of her, oh boy...... 🤭 That's gonna be massive blow to her ego.

OP response :

Oh boy, she's not gonna be happy that her bf and her side bf are getting it on together. This is gonna be a nuke field to travel through.

Halfdeadhalfpaniced :

Oh she’s definitely not going to take it well but technically none of this would have happened and you two would never have met if she didn’t cheat first. Honestly OP? He’s probably not the only one she’s ever cheated on you with and might not even be the only other person she’s currently seeing.

OP response :

It hurts to think about that, I hope she didn't… But I can't be certain.

Littleguy-dot-io :

nta.. you seemed to be doing yall a favor. venom. seems kinda like a bitch??? like bro.... pick a struggle. anyways sorry she did that to yall both but break with her

OP response :

At this point, Yeaaah, both Six and I really need to break up with her.

Furornocturna :

Okay, a LOT to unpack here, but I’ll try my best to give you some advice you desperately need.

Overall consensus? ESH.

Let me elaborate before you dismiss me outright.

Venom clearly sucks the worst here for cheating and stringing you and Six along.

You weren’t wrong for wanting revenge (I would too) and you weren’t wrong to tell Six about the situation (probably should have done it sober tho), but the two of you cheating on her back with each other… while admittedly a little hilarious as an outsider hearing this story secondhand, that doesn’t do either of you favors here. Not only did you sink to her level, but now the situation is messier than before that you now have to deal with when she finds out (which she will). You are going to have to confront Venom to end things with her, OP. Because that’s what you need to do.

From the looks of it, she checked out of the relationship three months ago, and the love there on your end was gone after you found out she was cheating, plus was likely already heading in that direction with the other background you gave on how things have been. And Six doesn’t deserve to be the side piece to her either.

First and foremost, you and Six both need to break things off with Venom (and deal with the fallout that comes with, as I have little doubt she’ll take the news well) before you proceed with anything else with whatever it is you want to do with each other. Which, despite the rather unorthodox circumstances, it appears that you two really hit it off.

But if this is something you want to pursue, platonically, romantically, or whatever else, you need to sort out yourself. You mentioned questioning your sexuality at the end of your post, so you’ll want to figure things out there before jumping headlong into another relationship. More than that, if you really like Six in any form, the last thing you want to do here is make him think he’s just a rebound. He was also hurt by Venom too. And make sure Six isn’t just rebounding on you either. You both really need to communicate on your wants, needs, feelings, etc, and how you want to proceed.

I hope things work out for you and Six. It really sucked that this happened (Venom cheating on you two, not you two finding each other), and I hope you both can recover from this and come out happier.

ALSO

Since you mentioned Venom causing city-wide damage in the past and how she’s caused issues with your successor, I worry both Bud and the city might also become casualties if Venom decides to retaliate against you and Six for breaking up with her/finding out her cheating. Don’t let them get caught up in the crossfire of this.

Make your next moves carefully, and you’ll get through this with the least amount of hassle.

Hope this helps!

OP response :

Honestly, I do feel kinda bad for sleeping with Six because of Venom. Even if I'm really angry and some petty part of me thinks she deserves it, I didn't intend for things to turn out like that. Things with Six just… spiraled, the alcohol didn't make it better. Not the first time wine makes me do stupid things. But, somehow, I don't regret it?? I definitely need to confront Venom and I sure as hell don't intend to keep dating her after this. Things will be messy and, you're right, I do need to watch out for her reaction and make sure things don't get out of control. I don't know how things will go with Six. Tbh, I don't know what I'm feeling for sure either, everything is kind of a mess right now? But right, talk, we need to talk.

Sorry if I made a mistake on you guys names, 😅.

And sooo, I have an update 👀

AITA for punching my girlfriend in the face?

After that night with Six I got up and tried to make breakfast. You know, something nice to set a nice mood. Problem is idk how to cook (I usually eat hair, it's a mystic monkey thing) sooo my attempt failed miserably and I ended up with a black goo that was supposed to be eggs.

I just settled for fruits. Like Six should like fruits, no ?? He's a monkey. So I prepared a nice basket and waited.

I was kinda nervous.

Which was very unlike me. I'm not a nervous guy. But I never did hook-ups before, not with a guy, and not with my girlfriend's secret side boyfriend much less. It was a messed up situation tbh and I felt guilty for what I did (somehow it kinda felt I cheated on Venom??), angry at Venom and also excited to see Six again.

Six woke up after a few minutes, he looked ruffled and very much like he spent the night having fun in the sheet (I'm proud of that tbh). He froze when he saw me. Dear in the headlight froze and we stared at each other for a long minute before I managed to awkwardly gesture towards the basket.

Six sat down and nibbled on some mangoes. Our conversation kinda went like this :

Me : “so, last night was… ?”

Six : “... A lot.”

Me : “Yeah… Huh, what do you wanna do?”

Six : “Don't know… Guess I'm just gonna keep my distance a bit.”

Me : “From Venom?”

Six : “Yeah…”

Me : “How about we confront her together?”

Honestly I said that because I didn't really want to confront Venom alone. She could be intense at times and, well, it was perhaps better to do it with everyone directly involved present.

But before Six could reply, Bud barged in.

Now, I'm not the best at keeping track of time but I usually know when Bud is coming. But with the whole situation it just slipped by me. The three of us froze and Bud's mouth fell open… For context, the marks of what we did last night were still very visible so it wasn't hard for Bud to connect the dots.

Now, Bud knows I'm with someone but I never told him of Venom. The main reason is because Venom is more on the “bad guy team” and doesn't think that kindly of Bud. Moreover, Bud has been the cause of a lot of arguments between Venom and I and I didn't want him to be involved with an angry Venom. I just didn't want things to get complicated and thought it was simpler to separate my love life from my mentor life. Maybe I was also a bit scared of how Bud was gonna react to me dating a “bad guy”.

Maybe that's why Bud's first reaction was to be excited and rush to Six, rambling about how he's finally able to meet my partner. I'm not blaming Bud for thinking this but Gods above it was so awkward.

If I said that Six wasn't my boyfriend, then Bud was going to think I'm cheating on my true partner (Venom)... Which is kinda the truth?? Somehow???

I honestly didn't know what to do and, at this point, I was feeling a lot of different emotions. I didn't want Bud's image of me to be tarnished but I didn't want to lie to him either about the situation. Six, who looked quite overwhelmed as well, didn't outrightly reject Bud's claim but clearly didn't agree with it either. He just… excused himself and took the opportunity to leave. Which I can understand. Dealing with Bud isn't his responsibility and he just learned he was a side piece yesterday, he probably needed some time to cool off and think clearly about what happened.

He smiled at me before leaving so I assumed that he's not that upset with me.

Gods that smile.

I avoided Bud's questions after this and put the subject to rest. Neither confirming or denying anything. I just told him we'd talk about it later. It's not like I didn’t want to confide in Bud, but I didn't want to drag him into this mess, he has enough already on his plate.

So now, fast-forward to three days after that incident. I took a lot of tests on the internet to know if I'm actually bi ?? I questioned a lot about myself, my own sexuality, and what I wanted to do with Six and Venom.

Six and I decided to meet again and clarify things. Mainly about what we wanted to do with Venom and how we should confront her. He came to my mountain and we sat down around some fruits, trying to figure out this whole mess and how we should go about it now. Honestly, both of us agreed we should break up for good with Venom. But we weren't sure if we should tell her about our lil “fun in the sheet”. Venom can have an explosive temper at times (she did destroy half of the city) so we didn't want to anger her more than necessary. I know I may be TA for wanting to keep my “kinda cheating” with Six a secret but at this point I just wanted to be done with Venom and not give her any more reasons to put the city or Bud in danger. It was a moment where both of us were emotionally vulnerable, and waisted. It wasn't wise, especially given the context, but I did insist that I didn't regret it. I really felt like we had a connection that night. However, before Six could reply, I saw Venom stomping down this way with an enraged look.

We both panicked. The marks of our night together were still somewhat visible and both of us didn't want to aggravate Venom more than she already was. In hindsight, maybe it was kind of a stupid move and would seem even more suspicious to Venom, but I pushed Six in the nearest cabinet. He looked livid so I just told him it wasn't the right moment yet and that I'd deal with her for now. I quickly applied some glamors to hide any marks and waited for Venom to arrive (for context, glamors is kind of like magic make-up).

She was furious. She paced and accused me of cheating on her. I pried a little for information and it turns out she overheard Bud talk about my male partner and, yeah, things spiraled down from there.

So my soon-to-be ex was ransacking the house in search of my supposed side piece and I was just nervously standing in front of the cabinet with Six inside. She approached the cabinet and was ready to throw hands. In a moment of sheer panic and instinctual reaction to years of fighting demons, I punched her in the face, not enough to truly do some damage (I can pack a mean punch) but enough to knock her out.

So now Venom is passed out on the floor and I'm feeling very guilty and Six is still inside the cabinet, I'm typing this with the speed of light.

Should I just tie her up???

So AITA??

AND WHAT DO I DO????

[thedemoninme141]

Her Heartbeat, Chapter 7:Her Vulnerability

Summary: Wednesday blames you as the reason she let her guard down, for the vulnerability that came with you.

Warning: Light Angst. Wednesday is back. !Mentions of death of a parent! Slow Burn.

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

Worklist.

Your heart raced as you grabbed your phone, frantically dialing your dad’s number. This wasn’t a “handle it yourself” kind of situation. You had nine high people on your hands, one of them being Wednesday Addams, and you knew things could go downhill fast.

"Dad.." you began, your voice shaky..

He definitely sensed the panic in your voice. “What happened? Everything alright?”

“Uh, not exactly,” you said, glancing nervously at the group. “So... Dad, do you remember how you always said if I ever needed you, no matter how stupid the reason, you’d come?”

Your dad paused, immediately suspicious. “Yeah? What did you do?”

“Okay, first of all, this is not my fault.” You shot a look toward Rick, who was now trying to chase his own shadow in circles, laughing like a maniac. “But... everyone here might be, uh, high. And Wednesday, well, she’s... Let’s just say I need help. Fast.”

Your dad’s voice came back with a groan. “Hey! You told me you guys were camping, what kind of camps do they even run?"

“We were camping, Dad! It’s an accident!” you snapped, frustration bubbling over. “Stop asking questions and just get here!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there. What do I even bring to deal with this?” he asked,

You blinked, unsure how to answer. “Uh, a tranquilizer gun?”

Your dad chuckled. “I’ll figure it out. See you soon. Try to keep the casualties to a minimum.”

“Great,” you muttered. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll be here... herding drunk cats.”

As you hung up, you sighed in relief but immediately felt the weight of the situation crash back in.

“Y/n,”

You jumped, nearly dropping your phone. “What the—Wednesday! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“You need to lift the magic.”

“Magic? What magic?” You frowned, thrown off by the comment.

“The one that keeps making me think about you all the time. Like right now. Like when I sleep.” She leaned closer, "It makes me feel... weird. Like... like I should stab you. But I can’t. I try, but it doesn’t feel right. Anyone else, I’d stab them. Like... like Brooke.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral. “Okay, but let’s agree not to stab Brooke,” you said, gently taking her arm.

Just then you heard Alex shout from across the camp. “Oh, baby! You complete me!”

“Oh, for the love of—” you groaned, rushing over to see Alex, arms wrapped around a thick tree trunk, “Alex, what the hell are you doing?”

Alex, now fully invested in his "relationship" with the tree, was whispering sweet nothings into its bark. "You're so... strong. You never hurt me, even when I hit you. I think... I love you."

"Alex!" You groaned, "Stop groping the tree. It doesn’t love you back."

He glanced at you, wide-eyed and sincere. “She… she gets me. She understands me. I love her.”

You stared at him for a moment, wondering if you should laugh or cry. “Alex, it’s a tree.”

“Don’t insult her!” he cried dramatically, clutching the bark tighter. “She’s... she’s the love of my life.”

“Rick! Don’t get in the water!” you shouted as you caught sight of him staggering toward the lake.

Rick paused, looked back, and said, “But the water… it calls to me!”

“No! You’ll drown!” You sprinted over, grabbing his arm and yanking him back just in time. He stumbled but managed to stay upright, looking at you as if you’d just ruined his dreams.

“Aw, come on! I just wanted to see the dolphin.”

“It's a lake Rick! There are no dolphins! Stay away from the water!”

You sighed, glancing around the camp to see what fresh disaster awaited you. And then, your heart stopped.

"Wednesday, don’t stab Brooke!" you shouted, seeing Wednesday approaching Brooke with a knife in hand.

“Why not?” Wednesday replied, her voice dangerously calm. “She looks stab-worthy.”

For a second, you thought you were in the clear—until Wednesday moved behind Brooke and, with one swift motion, sliced off her ponytail.

Brooke just kept laughing. “Hey! Free haircut!”

“Wednesday, what the hell!" you cried.

She turned to you with an unsettling smirk, eyes still glazed but sharp. Without warning, she threw the knife at you. You yelped, dodging just in time as the blade embedded itself in the tree behind you. “Seriously?!”

She grinned, grabbing another knife from god knows where. “It’s a game, Y/n. You dodge, I throw.” You ducked again as the second knife sailed past your head. “How many knives do you even have?!” “Enough,” she said, her lips curling into a wicked smile. Before you could react, she pulled out another knife from her coat. “Okay, stop!” You ducked as the third knife soared past. “Are you done?” She tilted her head, looking thoughtful. “No.” And out came knife number four. You barely dodged it as it flew past your head and stabbed Alex's newlywed wife... "My love! Noooo" Alex cried holding onto the tree.

“You’re really good at dodging,” Wednesday mumbled, her words slurring together. “I might like that about you.”

You weren’t sure whether to be flattered or terrified.

“Wednesday! Are you done?”

She frowned, swaying on her feet. “I’m out of knives."

"Thank god," you muttered but before you could catch your breath you saw Mike, who was trying to roast marshmallows... without the stick. He held the marshmallows directly over the fire with his bare hands, completely unaware of the flames licking at his skin.

“Mike!” you ran over and pulled him away. “Are you trying to set yourself on fire?!”

He blinked at you in confusion. “I was just... hungry.”

“Use a stick next time!” you cried, handing him one.

You sighed as you glanced at Wednesday, who had wandered off again, staring at the moon like it had personally offended her.

You jogged over to her, grabbing her by the arm before she could do anything else drastic. “Wednesday, stay with me, okay? Get a hold of yourself, stop acting weird.”

“I’m not weird,” she muttered, looking up at the sky with unfocused eyes. “The moon is weird. Look at it... all smug up there... thinking it’s so important. I could take it down if I wanted to.”

“Sure, Wednesday,” you said, humoring her. “But let’s not fight the moon right now, okay?”

She blinked, swaying slightly. “Why not? It deserves it. It’s always watching... judging... Like Weems, Can we kill Weems when we go back?”

Rick was running back toward the lake again, you rubbed your temples. “Wednesday, please just sit down, we can kill Weems later, okay?.” you said before going for Rick.

“Rick! No!” You sprinted after him, pulling him away just before he could dive in.

“Man, you’re no fun!” Rick slurred, pouting like a child.

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to keep you all alive!”

Returning to Wednesday, you found her surprisingly obedient for once, sitting by the fire.

“You,” she muttered, pointing a finger at you again. “Why are you always fixing things? Its annoying.”

You sighed, catching your breath. “Trust me, I know.”

“But…” she paused, her brow furrowing in drunken confusion. “I also kind of like that you’re always… there.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, your heart doing a weird little flip despite the chaos. “Oh yeah? Well, I kind of like that you haven’t stabbed anyone yet.”

She smirked, getting up on her feet. “Give me some time.”

Just as you were about to respond, the distant ruffling from the woods.

Your dad had arrived, along with a few camp staff members who clearly had no idea what they were walking into.

“Okay,” your dad said, running a hand through his hair. “What the hell happened here?”

You crossed your arms, gesturing to the group. “This. This happened. Rick spiked the coffee. So… good luck. I’m getting Wednesday out of here. Give me your car keys.”

Your dad hesitated, his brows furrowing. "You don’t have a license yet, Y/n."

"I don’t care," you said firmly, glancing over at Wednesday, who was eyeing everyone with a dangerous gleam. "I need to get her out of here before she really does something."

He stared at you for a moment, then sighed, digging into his pocket and pulling out the car keys. "Here. And take this." He handed you a flashlight. "It’s dark out there."

"Thanks, Dad," you said, pocketing the keys and flashlight.

"Good luck," he called as you started to lead Wednesday away from the mess.

You led Wednesday through the dark jungle, her hand gripped tightly in yours, her steps unsteady but stubborn. Every twig that snapped had you jumping. “You’re scared,” Wednesday observed bluntly. You stiffened. “No, I’m not. I just don’t like… unexpected noises.” “You’re scared,” she repeated, her voice softer now, less mocking. “I can tell.” You sighed. “Okay, fine. Maybe a little. It’s dark and creepy" You walked in silence for a few moments, the jungle seeming to close in around you, the air thick and heavy, but what felt even more dense.. was Wednesday's proximity near you.

“I’m scared too.” her voice softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in.

You blinked, “What? You? Scared? Of what?” you asked, half expecting her to say something completely ridiculous, like hugs.

“I’m scared… of getting close to you.” Her words came out slowly, as if she were forcing herself to admit it.

That made you stop in your tracks. You turned to look at her, your heartbeat suddenly louder in your ears.

“I’m scared about that too,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the sounds of the jungle. “I’m scared for you. That you’ll get close to me, and it’ll be... selfish.”

“Selfish?” she echoed, her brow furrowing. “Why would it be selfish?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn't.. you didn't want to lose her... not yet.

Wednesday’s gaze bore into you, waiting for an answer, but you squeezed her hand lightly, leading her forward through the jungle.

"Let’s just get out of here," you murmured.

She didn’t press further, just followed your lead, her steps slow but steady, her grip firm in yours. After what felt like an eternity, you finally saw the road ahead, your dad’s car parked at the edge of the road. Relief washed over you as you reached it. You helped Wednesday into the passenger seat before climbing in behind the wheel. Your hands shook as you gripped the steering wheel.

There was no way you were driving two hours to Nevermore in this state. Your house was only half an hour away, and you were way too tired to push through for that long.

“I’m taking you to my place,” you said, glancing over at Wednesday. “It’s closer.” She blinked slowly, her head resting against the window. “I don’t care… as long as it’s quiet.” You started the car, pulling onto the road and heading toward home. The drive was mostly silent, save for the occasional comment from Wednesday. “You’re a terrible driver,” she mumbled at one point, her eyes half-closed. “Gee, thanks,” you muttered. “And why is your car so… bright?” “It’s a normal car, Wednesday.” “I prefer hearses.” You chuckled, feeling a strange warmth spread through your chest despite the exhaustion. Even drunk, even high, she was still Wednesday Addams.

After what felt like both an eternity and a blink, you finally pulled into your driveway. You hadn’t been gone long, just a week, but somehow it felt like you’d been away for months. You missed it. You helped Wednesday out of the car, guiding her toward the front door. She blinked at the house, her lips curling into a half-frown. “It’s… too clean.” You raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Where are the cobwebs? The dust? It’s too… colorful. It offends me.” You laughed softly, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Sorry to disappoint. Maybe I can add some cobwebs for you later.” Wednesday grunted, following you in. “You should.” You led her upstairs to the bathroom, handing her a towel and some spare clothes—luckily, you had some black ones. No way were you risking putting her in anything with colours. That might be the last mistake you ever made. "Just… take a shower. I’ll be right outside if you need anything," you said, standing awkwardly by the door. There was a pause, and then the sound of water running. You heard her muttering something under her breath, but you didn’t ask what.

After a few minutes, she emerged, dressed in the black shirt and pants you’d given her. She still looked disheveled, her hair damp and wild.. and... human? "Better?" you asked. She nodded once, her eyes flicking over you. "Tolerable." "Great." You led her to your room, where you helped her onto your bed. "You can sleep here. I’ll take the chair." Wednesday stared at the bed with disdain. “It’s too colorful.” “Would you prefer I get you a coffin?” Her eyes lit up "You can?" “No, I’m fresh out of coffins, so you’re stuck with this.” You said, watching as she reluctantly climbed onto the bed. She lay back, eyeing the bright blankets suspiciously. "Sweet dreams Wends." "Bitter nightmares Y/n." You sat down in the chair, resting your head on the table, exhausted from the day. As your eyelids grew heavier, you couldn’t help but feel… content. Despite everything that happened, the chaos, the stress—it was nice. It was nice… with Wednesday.

Wednesday woke up with a pounding headache, one that reminded her of the few times she'd experienced her visions—but this one was worse. Her skull felt like it was splitting in two. She blinked slowly, squinting against the unfamiliar light filtering through the room. Her mind began to sort through fragments of memories. The camp… those insufferable therapy sessions… the lake… She sat up abruptly, clutching her head as the pain intensified.

Her eyes flicked around the room, landing on your slumped figure, asleep at the desk. You were hunched over, your head resting on your arms, your breathing slow and steady. For some reason, her mind didn’t leap to the worst-case scenarios like it usually did. Normally, she would have assumed she’d been kidnapped or poisoned or worse, but this time, her immediate reaction was different. You were there. And for some strange, infuriating reason, that put her mind somewhat at ease. She quickly squashed that feeling, she needed answers.

“Y/N.” You jolted upright, startled and confused, your eyes wide as you tried to get your bearings. “Wednesday?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes, still half-asleep. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice sharper now. “And why do I feel like I’ve been run over by a freight train?” You stood, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “You’re at my house,” you said, a bit sheepish. “Uh, sorry about that. After everything that happened last night, I figured it was easier to bring you here instead of taking you all the way back to Nevermore.” Wednesday’s gaze narrowed. “And what, exactly, happened last night?” You grimaced. “It was Rick. He spiked the coffee, and… well, everyone got pretty messed up. You were high.”

A flicker of memory hit her like a punch to the gut. The coffee. Rick. Her emotions spilling out. She had been...drunk. And not just any kind of drunk—emotionally vulnerable drunk. A wave of nausea hit her. "I was what?"

"Yeah, you were... not yourself. And I had to, you know, keep you from stabbing people or throwing knives. At me, mostly." You gave her a nervous chuckle, trying to ease the tension. "So I took you home before you killed anyone."

Wednesday’s face darkened, her expression unreadable. She could vaguely remember the feel of the knife in her hand, the sheer frustration bubbling inside her, and then...she let her guard down. She had felt things—for you. Her hands tightened into fists.

"This was your fault," she said, her voice low, dangerous. “You. You're the reason this happened.”

You blinked in surprise, then frowned. “What? How is this my fault?”

“You.” Her eyes burned with anger, her lips curling into a scowl. “Yesterday, I let you in. And look where that got me—drunk, vulnerable, and completely out of control.”

Her words stung. You had never seen her so agitated, so vulnerable, and yet so defensive at the same time. Your heart sank a little, but you stepped closer to her. “Wednesday, it’s okay. I was there, wasn’t I? I’ll always be there if you need me.”

“That's not the point!” Wednesday snapped. “The point is that I’m never like this. I never allow myself to be anything other than in control. But you... you make me lose that control. You distract me. You’re the reason I wasn’t on guard, the reason I didn’t see it coming.”

For a moment, you were speechless. It wasn’t often that you saw Wednesday like this—raw, emotional, admitting that she wasn’t as impenetrable as she wanted to be. But instead of backing down, you felt your own frustration rising.

“So, what? You’re mad because I’m not a threat to you? Because I make you feel something?”

Her eyes flashed. “Yes!”

You stared at her, genuinely taken aback by her admission. “You’re blaming me for something you’re not used to dealing with that I had no control of.”

Wednesday’s jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You had control, you entered my life. I never asked you to get close to me," she hissed.

You stared at her for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in. You shook your head slowly. “You know what? Fine. Be mad. Blame me for all of it. Blame me because you’re scared to admit that you actually care about someone. Go ahead.”

Wednesday’s eyes flashed a bit of emotions, but you didn’t stop.

“Because I can’t do this,” you said, your voice laced with frustration. “I can't keep taking the fault just because you’re too stubborn to admit that maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to be alone all the time.”

“I am not alone,” Wednesday said coldly. “I choose this.”

You looked at her, and for a second, something shifted in your expression. Hurt, maybe. Or disappointment. “Fine. Then go. Be strong and alone, just like you always do.”

The words stung more than she cared to admit. She felt her anger surge again, but this time, there was something else beneath it—an ache she couldn’t name. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her mind racing.

Back in your room, you groaned, burying your face in your hands. The frustration, the anger—it was all swirling inside you like a storm. You hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but damn it, Wednesday knew how to push every button.

Still, you couldn’t just leave things like this. Not after everything that had happened.

With a resigned sigh, you stood up, running a hand through your hair as you headed out to find her.

Wednesday stood outside, her arms crossed tightly against her chest as the morning air bit at her skin. She stood rigid, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. What part of Jericho is she even in?

She was stuck in this place—your place. A house that felt almost too normal for her liking, too...warm. It was unsettling. And yet, it wasn’t just the unfamiliarity of the setting that rattled her. It was you.

She wasn’t going back inside.

Her pride wouldn’t allow it. She could navigate the situation on her own—she didn’t need help. Wednesday Addams never needed help.

You were the one person she could blame for her current predicament. Yet, somehow, you were also the only person she found herself thinking about.

Her head was still pounding, the remnants of the drug-fueled haze clinging to her like a persistent shadow. It was disorienting and left her feeling unusually out of control.

And that—more than anything—infuriated her.

She wasn’t used to this. Losing control, feeling vulnerable, feeling anything.

It was your fault. You had wormed your way into her life, into her mind, and now, into her emotions. And for what? You were unpredictable, infuriatingly cheerful, and entirely too comfortable in her presence. No one had ever made her feel this conflicted before. And she hated it.

No, she hated you. Right?

What had she said last night? What had you seen? She remembered the rush of emotions flooding her mind, the dizzying sensation of being drunk—something she never allowed herself to be.

And somehow, you had been there, in the middle of it all. And you are still here now...

“Is it really that bad to let someone in, Wednesday?” She stiffened at the sound of your voice, not bothering to turn to face you.

“Yes,” she replied coldly, the answer immediate and sharp. “It would make me weak. Vulnerable.”

You sighed softly, taking a few slow steps toward her, careful not to intrude on her space but just close enough that she couldn’t ignore your presence.

“Vulnerability,” you mused, glancing down at your feet before looking back at her with a sad smile. “I wish I felt vulnerable sometimes. The vulnerability of a mother’s love."

Wednesday’s sharp gaze turned to you, a question forming in her eyes but remaining unspoken.

“My mother died giving birth to me,” you continued, "Talk about being born only to murder your mother,” you chuckled, though it wasn’t filled with your usual warmth. It was tinged with something deeper—pain.

That hit harder than she anticipated. Wednesday wasn’t one for empathy, but something about the way you said it, the way you tried to laugh off the tragedy, made something in her chest tighten. She wasn’t sure why, but the pain in your voice resonated with her.

“I watched as the others played with their mothers,” you continued, your eyes distant now, as if you were seeing something far away. “Dad tried, he really did. But he had work. The cars in his garage weren’t going to fix themselves.”

Wednesday stayed silent, her eyes locked on your profile. She could see the sadness in your eyes now, the weight of it pressing down on you like a dark cloud. You were trying to make a joke of it, trying to downplay the loss, but she could tell how much it still hurt you.

“Why am I telling you all this?” you asked, your voice softer now, more vulnerable than she had ever heard it. “Because, Wednesday... sometimes, the thing we think will make us weak or vulnerable... is actually the thing that’s missing. The thing that could make us whole.”

She remained silent, the words hanging in the air between you both. For the first time in a long time, Wednesday didn’t have a sharp retort, didn’t have some sarcastic comment to throw back at you. She just...stood there. Listening.

What the hell am I even doing?

Her mind raced, and she felt an uncomfortable knot forming in her stomach. You clearly had nothing to hide, no ulterior motives that she could detect. Maybe...maybe she could trust you. But trust was dangerous. She had built her life around never needing to trust anyone. Why should you be any different?

Still, something about your words lingered in her mind, gnawing at her resolve. Vulnerability wasn’t a weakness, you had said. It was the missing piece.

For a moment, she considered the possibility. Maybe, just maybe, letting you in didn’t mean losing control. Maybe it was something else entirely.

She clenched her jaw, finally turning to face you. “Where does this leave us?”

You met her gaze, your expression unreadable for a moment. Then, you gave a soft, almost tired smile.

“What even is this?” she asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them. It was a rare admission of uncertainty from her, and it made her feel exposed in a way she hated.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, shrugging slightly. “But does it really need to have a name? This...whatever this is...it can just be ‘this’ till we enjoy each other’s company.” You smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, I clearly enjoy yours. I don’t know about you.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, but there was no real malice in the gesture. “You aren’t entirely intolerable,” she muttered under her breath, her voice softer than usual.

You laughed at that, a genuine laugh that seemed to lift some of the tension between you. “High praise coming from you,” you teased.

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t need to. The fact that she hadn’t immediately insulted you or walked away was enough of a response.

Then, after a moment, you stretched and yawned, clearly still recovering from the night’s chaos. “Anyway,” you said, “I clearly need coffee. Preferably not spiked" You took a few steps forward, then paused, looking back over your shoulder at her. “You coming?”

She sighed, her expression impassive as she finally moved to follow you.

Whatever this was, it went deeper than that. The things she did for you, the things you made her feel...they weren’t just born from friendship. But no, this wasn’t something romantic either, at least not yet. She wasn’t sure what it was.

And maybe, just for now, that was okay.

This didn’t need a name.

[thegamingcatmom]

Helloooo, you asked for RE village asks.

What kinda pampering do you think Miranda likes? (Especially from an s/o)

I think she'd like having her wings massaged but only if she really trusts the other person.

YES HI HELLO

I meant to answer you right away, but then I got distracted writing a lil smt about Miranda and her housewi-I mean assistant. It´s a one-shot, so it shouldn´t take all too long to finish, hopefully. 🤭

...And then I got distracted writing a lil smt about Miri the Workaholic, which you will find further down. 🤭

SPEAKING OF-

(Someone´s very much looking forward to this one...)

First of: It is crucial to understand that I view Miranda as a rather...practical being. She´s not big into all that lovey-dovey stuff, simply because she prefers getting straight to the point. Everything else is a waste of time in her opinion, and while she does technically have all the time in the world (perks of being immortal), she quite lacks the patience for it.

Besides, she´s a workaholic. Ynow what has her undead heart soaring? Seeing her papers neatly organized in separate stacks. Bonus points if they´re labeled. 😩🤌

So, when it comes to actual pampering (as in: things you do to her), what immediately comes to mind is preening because that actually has a use, yknow what I´m saying? Yknow, plucking those loose feathers (gently, if you know what´s good for you), and keeping the good ones nice and clean. That may or may not include a bath.

(She does quite enjoy those, it has to be said. With or without feathers...)

But yeah, it´s not so much about what you can do to her, and more what you can do for her. (That also includes looking pretty for her btw.) Therefore-

Pampering Birb Momma would include:

keeping her lab nice and clean

just like her feathers

taking notes for her so she can do other stuff in the meantime (she´s a sucker for proper time management)

keeping her jewelry spotless (mask, handchains, etc.)

handing her tools, adjusting the light, anything she might need when she experiments on someone (that one might get a satisfied smile out of her)

awaiting/welcoming her when she gets home like a good little waifu

that will do wonders for her mood, especially when she´s had a rather tiring day with her "children"

bonus if you´re wearing an apron (they just...do smt to her, it´s all about that domestic stuff I´m telling ya)

polishing her cutlery (she has no use for it, but she loves shiny things)

(...she´s part bird yall, cmon)

luring ppl into her lab for her to experiment on so she can take care of other things in the meantime (it´s all about that time management, ppl)

bonus if you wrap them up like a present, bow and all

that will actually get a laugh out of her

(Miri has a rather dark humor)

applying her makeup (not that she´d ever admit it, but...that one drives her wild)

So ye, any kind of pampering is more related to how you can help her with her work because that IS all she does, basically. That´s what she lives for. However-

She could be persuaded into taking a break now and again. Perhaps. If you ask real nicely. Apron and all.

What I´m saying is: Don´t use words. She´s not listening anyway because she´s already knuckle-deep in her next specimen, mumbling to herself as if possessed. If you wanna get her attention, you have to demand it. Be the aggressor, yknow?

...Meaning:

HOW TO APPROACH A WORKING BIRB MOMMA 101:

(Participate at your own peril.)

Start by grazing the tips of your fingers against the feathers located at the very edge of her wings - known as the primary feathers. Go nice and slow, so as not to spook her. (Failing to do so could result in fatal consequences.) A light ruffling of wings or a flitting of eyes in your direction typically means your touch has been accepted. (Should you find yourself faced with neither of those things, don´t let that deter you! You´re still standing, which means your presence is tolerated regardless.) Proceed with firm but gentle precision as you slowly work your way to the base of her wings. You may apply slight pressure here and there, but make sure to keep your eyes trained on her face and posture at all times to avoid missing any signs of discomfort or unease. (Failing to do so could result in fatal consequences.)

Those signs could include:

a furrowing of eyebrows

a twitching of her jaw (typically a result of chattering)

a puffed up chest

a sudden and strong ruffling of wings, usually accompanied by a puffed up chest (a defense mechanism to appear bigger and more threatening)

a strong release of air through mouth or nose (resembling a hiss)

a low humming sound (resembling a growl)

in extreme cases: loud, harsh squawking or screaming

Body language is a primary form of communication for many species, and knowing hers is essential for survival.

By now, you should have reached the feathers located midway between the base and the outer wings - known as the secondary feathers. Those are more sensitive to the touch, so start by softly running your fingers along the plumage towards the base - your goal. Now, the same strategy applies: Be on the lookout for any signs of discomfort or unease as you move along. (Failing to do so could result in fatal consequences.) If you find neither of the aforementioned signs, you may also try and slip your fingers between the feathers. As those are more sensitive, your touch might evoke a stronger reaction, such as a violent twitch or a strong ruffling of wings. If that happens and it is not accompanied by a puffed up chest: don´t.panic. It is vital to understand that this isn´t a sign of discomfort, and showing fear or hesitation in such a moment could trigger a fight or flight response. Given the nature of her species, fight is the more likely reaction. (Which will most likely result in fatal consequences.)

This is why I cannot stress this enough: understanding her body language is crucial.

If you´re able to read this: good job! You´ve made it to the base - known as the tertiary feathers. Those are the most sensitive, so it is strongly advised to proceed with caution. (Failing to do so could result in fatal consequences.) If any pressure is being applied at this point, lessen it until the mere tips of your fingers are resting against the feathery coat. Due to the sensitivity of that area, you might notice a slight tremor - let it guide you! Tremors are a telltale sign of victory, so continue feeling for more as you draw closer to where wing and body meet. The trembling might become increasingly more violent the closer you get, so don´t let that deter you. On the contrary: you´re nearly there, so keep pushing forward! (Failing to do so could result in fatal consequences.)

You will know you have reached the spot when her wings begin to droop, as if gravity is gently pulling at them. Once that state has been achieved, initiate the ultimate checkmate by dancing your fingers along her spine - pressure optional. Proceed to watch in a mix of awe and self-satisfaction as her head tilts back and her eyes begin to close in complete and utter bliss. If you listen very closely, you might be able to perceive a low humming sound.

Got you.

Your hand finds purchase on her shoulder, but before you can apply the slightest pressure, she yields, sinking into the chair behind her with an irritated sigh that more resembles a hiss.

Someone´s angry.

If there is one thing she detests more than failures, it is resting when she could be doing something instead.

You saunter around the chair with a little more sway to your hips than usual before claiming all the space her lap provides to make sure she stays resting. Her muscles ripple beneath you, and you choose to ignore the fact she holds enough power to obliberate armies.

If she wanted to, she could throw you off with a mere flick of her wrist. But, alas...

Her icy blue eyes glint dangerously as she opts to stare at you with a mix of resentment and irritation, eyebrows furrowed and full lips flattened into a thin line. In fact, her gaze is so vicious that you almost believe she wants nothing more than for you to drop dead on the spot.

Almost.

If it weren´t for the fact her arms had wrapped around you as soon as you sat down.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you´re doing?"

How she manages to sound calm despite the storm clearly raging within her never ceases to amaze you. It used to terrify you.

A long time ago.

"Sitting," you reply with feigned innocence, even going so far as to throw your arms around her shoulders as far as the halo adorning her back would let you to settle in further.

"I see that."

...

"Cool."

Conversations with her are always so fulfilling.

"Why?"

Ah, there it is.

"...Why what?"

You can´t help it. Pushing buttons and testing boundaries has become your favorite way to pass the time. You blame the endless spiral of cleaning, and cleaning, and some more cleaning. You get that you have to contribute something, but your mind craves stimulation.

Hence you being a massive pain in her ass from time to time.

"Dove..."

Sigh.

She´s no fun when she has the patience of a boiling pot.

"You work too much…" you admit meekly, avoiding her piercing gaze as your fingers gently bury into the feathers closest to them.

"I wasn´t aware this was for you to decide."

Fair point.

"Well..." you sigh dramatically, making no move to untangle yourself. "If my presence causes such pain and misery for you, then I guess you can always just...let me go?"

Both of you are aware that you aren´t merely talking about her arms currently wrapped around you. They tighten their hold at the mere mention, causing you to risk a peek.

...

It takes everything in you to keep from grinning like the Cheshire Cat as the fold between her eyebrows deepens and the glint in her eyes transforms into an ominous glow.

Got you.

Again.

With slow and deliberate movements, your right hand shifts from the feathery prison of its own making to her face, where your index finger begins to smooth out the persistent crease between her eyebrows with gentle precision.

"I´m bored," you whine, uncaring of the fact you sound like a petulant child.

Now it´s her turn to let out the most dramatic sigh in history. "I´ve given you tasks-"

"Yeah, cleaning. Which I´ve done, by the way. Everything´s spotless."

A moment of tense silence passes.

"Don´t interrupt me, little bird."

Sometimes, you forget that she still scares you. And then you go and do something stupid.

Like interrupting her.

"...Sorry," you mumble, your finger trailing down the bridge of her nose, focusing on how perfect her skin is rather than acknowledging the weight of her judging gaze.

Another sigh fills the air before her hand catches your wrist, stopping your fidgeting and drawing your attention back to her words.

"As I´ve said..." she emphasizes, throwing you a pointed look that makes you want to go back to admiring her flawless skin. "I´ve given you tasks. Tasks that go beyond cleaning, as you well know."

You do know. And you’ve tried your damnest to avoid them since she gave them to you weeks ago.

"I...I don´t wanna..." you admit meekly before letting your gaze drift down to her necklace.

Her chest rises, lifting you slightly as she takes a deep breath - probably to keep herself from tearing your head off in sheer frustration over discussing this topic at least once a day.

You brace yourself for the worst, as always.

...

But it never comes, as always.

Instead, a finger rests against the underside of your chin, applying slight pressure to force you to meet her gaze.

It´s not the all-consuming fury you expected, nor the silent judgement you had grown accustomed to. Instead, it´s something far worse:

Disappointment.

"You don´t wanna?" she mocks you, the crease you fought hard to smooth out now back in full force as her eyebrows furrow in irritation. "Are you truly so selfish to deny me? To deny The Black God? We all must make our sacrifices, little crow. I have told you this time and time again, and I am tiring of this conversation. My patience is but a flicker, and you have long since extinguished it."

And yet, it's been weeks since she tasked you with the ultimate betrayal.

Or the ultimate proof of devotion, in her eyes.

"...Sacrifices?" you echo in disbelief, the temper you fight so hard to contain in her presence starting to rear its ugly head. "You´re asking me to send innocent people straight to their doom! People I´ve known my entire life! People I love!

You try to break free from her grasp, fully intending to storm to your room, lock the door, and remain there for the rest of the day.

You barely manage to stand before her arm shoots up, forcing you back down as it curls around you in a vice-like grip. You begin to thrash and push against her, but her other hand surges up to seize your throat in a firm hold, yanking you back towards her in one swift movement.

Her hold doesn´t hurt much, but it serves as a reminder that it could.

"Was it not you who wished for variety?" she hisses, her breath hot against your cheek. "Was it not you who wailed about setting foot outside again? Was it not you who wept for those pests to quench your thirst for companionship?"

Her grip tightens at that, reminding you of her possessive nature. She doesn´t show it often, but you know it´s there - lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

"That is what is due," she snarls. "That is your sacrifice."

She releases your throat, but her arm remains firmly wrapped around you. You feel her piercing gaze drilling holes into the side of your head, daring you to oppose her again.

You say nothing in response as you keep your eyes trained on a speck of dust on the floor that you somehow missed, stubbornly refusing to meet her gaze. You know how much she despises that.

Being ignored, that is.

"Perhaps I´ve made a grave mistake by placing my faith in you, hm?" she continues in a low hum, trailing the back of her finger along your cheek. "Perhaps it would serve me better to have you strapped to my table? Transformed into my next specimen? Perhaps then you will discover a sense of gratitude for the position I´ve so generously offered you."

It´s not the first time she´s playing that card - trying to bend you to her will by threatening to make good on the promise she made all those months ago, when you first stepped out of line. Maybe that´s why, instead of fearing for your life as you probably should, all you feel is exhaustion.

You refrain from opening that can of worms, however. Despite all evidence to the contrary, you´re not that stupid.

Just like you refrain from addressing the fact that you were never really offered anything. An offer implies having a choice.

Instead, you continue to ignore her, your eyes idly scanning the floor for any more dust particles you might have missed. How can such a small space get dirty so quickly? It feels like once you’ve reached one end, you could start all over again. It´s ridicul-

A finger on your jaw interrupts your thoughts, turning your head to face her once more.

Her eyes are the only sign that you´re getting under her skin - that ominous glow is back.

"Don´t tempt me, dove..." she warns. "My tolerance for your perpetual insolence is tied solely to your more appealing qualities as a potential vessel, should I ever find myself out of options. Keep testing me, and that day might arrive sooner than you think."

You know you shouldn´t. You didn´t merely poke the bear today - you speared it. The best course of action now would be to keep your mouth shut, nod in humbled defeat, and hope you look convincing enough doing it.

But you´ve never been one to follow your own advice. If you were, you wouldn´t be stuck with the Devil today.

"...You think I´m appealing?"

...

There is a moment of silence.

And another.

And another.

The silence stretches on as you watch her watching you. Her eyes take their time mapping your face, scrutinizing every inch with a precision usually reserved for the unfortunate souls strapped to her table. You´ve yet to feel the hard wood pressing against your back or the cold leather cutting into your wrists and ankles, but you very much feel the raw power she radiates.

And then her eyes stop.

Her finger trails along your jaw towards your chin, where it lingers - tapping once, twice, thrice, as if considering something - before your jaw is seized between her pointer and thumb. She uses the hold to pull you closer, stopping only when the tip of your nose nearly brushes hers.

You can´t stop your eyes from mirroring hers as they dart down, fixating on her plush lips.

The breath catches in your throat.

"I think you have tasks to complete."

And just as quickly, it´s released again as you sink into her, your body deflating in a frustrating mix of relief and disappointment.

Only to feel disappointed in yourself for feeling disappointed in the first place.

And then you take the time to acknowledge her words, and a new wave of frustration washes over you. You know she won´t yield on the matter, but you can´t stop yourself from pushing it one last time.

"...Can´t I just...sacrifize a goat or two?" you sigh, fingers starting to fiddle with her necklace. A nervous habit of yours.

You´re surprised when, instead of finding yourself on the receiving end of one of her outbursts, a low, melodic chuckle reaches your ears. It´s a beautiful sound, and one you´ve managed to evoke only a handful of times since she bound you to her service.

You´re unable to stop the hope from blossoming in your chest-

"Insolent little bird..."

She says nothing more in response, and that hope wilts again like a dying flame.

This conversation is over.

With a heavy sigh, you release her necklace and begin the process of untangling yourself-

Her grip tightens.

You glance at her in confusion for a moment, taking in the slight curl of lips and the lidded eyes, before you realize-

They have yet to leave your lips.

The realization barely has time to settle before her thumb begins tracing your lower lip. Her touch is no more than a whisper, nearly prompting you recoil from the ticklish sensation.

Her icy blue eyes snap back up to yours then, keeping you rooted to the spot as her thumb continues to drive you mad.

It´s clear what she wants, but she makes it your responsibility to provide it. She always does.

Another way of proofing your devotion to her.

Your eyes stray downward in response and, at this point, you´re no longer ashamed to admit that the tantalizing sight clouds your mind almost instantly, pulling you in like a moth to a flame.

She always does.

Just before your lips brush hers, you´re hit with the compelling urge to seek out her gaze once more.

Her eyes are burning.

Then, suddenly, the world around you darkens, and your eyes just so manage to catch a glimpse of feathers before you´re plunged into total darkness.

Save for those burning eyes.

And then, you´re burning. Your lips have barely grazed hers before she´s consuming you, the restraint she´s shown until now discarded as she takes what is due.

...

It´s not the stimulation you had in mind, but you´re not about to complain. Lest she does make good on that promise...

At least you got her to stop working.

.

.

.

Any mistakes you might find: keep em. I was too lazy to read it back. 💀

Besides-

Since this will become the 1st part of (hopefully) many of my planned series (which is really just a way for me to indulge in my obsession for Birb Momma without having to worry too much about the plot), this version will probs undergo some tweaks and adjustments first before it´s released on ao3 too.

Hope to see yall there! 🐦‍⬛🖤

(The next part is already in the works. 🔥🤘)

.

THANKS A LOT FOR YOUR ASK! 💋

(Btw: I´ve been rewatching the part of Shadows of Rose where Rose meets Miranda to get some inspiration, and DUDE-

Miri´s eyes are positively crazy, I cant- 🫠❤️‍🔥

Also the way she breathes the words?? Yknow what I´m saying?? 😩🤌

Also also: TALL. 🫠)

[featguler]

guessing every gaze ────── you are tending his wounds.

♡ ────── pairing : eduardo camavinga x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. college!au. reader and eduardo are best friends, they both want something more. eduardo got into a fight; wound descriptions ♡ ────── wordcount : 1,695 ♡ ────── notes : i love writing college au's bc surprise surprise: im a college student. i do really be writing whatever the fuck i want. hope u enjoy this hehe im all giggly writing this. title from niki's urs! ♡ masterlist.

“How did you get in?”

You drop your bag—binder of worksheets and laptop and all—along with your jaw as you stare at Eduardo, obviously in pain, clutching on his stomach, groaning on your bed. Getting home from the first class of the semester, you had absolutely not expected Eduardo to magically appear in your dorm room.

“A little empathy wouldn’t hurt,” he glares at you, not doing much to hide the gash under his eyes, or the bruising on his neck, or whatever the fuck is going on with his bottom lips.

Your eyes wander to his hand—knuckles—and see the dry blood chipping on it.

“I’m fucking beat, couldn’t possibly go home like this, huh? Ma’s gonna give me another round of bruising if she sees me like this.”

You scoff, quickly slamming the door behind you you bend down to grab your bag, repeating you initial question: “How the fuck did you get in?”

“The window,” he finally answers with a grunt, rolling his eyes as if it was the obvious answer.

“This is the second floor,” you lock the door behind you, furrowing your eyebrow.

“I climbed,” he shrugs.

“Like that?!” You gesture vaguely at all the wounds you see—and don’t—throwing your arms around. “How did no one see you climbing the fucking walls?”

“Does it matter?” He whines.

“Yes!” You couldn’t sound more exasperated. “My roommate can be back any second now, you know.”

“You know they got a warmer back to return to,” Eduardo flicks his wrist, dusting your worries away. His eyes wander to your nightstand and at you, holding out his hand to beckon you to come over. “C’mere, give me a kiss.”

“A kiss?” It’s your turn to whine as you approach him, your bed dipping under your knee. Your hand finds it to trace its finger over his eyebrows, and a gash on his cheeks. He flinches. “Dear lord, you look terrible.”

“I’ll live,” he snickers, staying still like moving too much would scare you away. “Won the fight, no doubt.”

“It’s those fucking football betting group again, isn’t it?”

“Mhm,” he closes his eyes, like he is enjoying the way you are caressing his wounds. “Maybe it is. Where’s my kiss?”

He opens his eyes, and meets yours, waiting for his little kiss. After a fight, you would think that being kissed is the least of his priorities, but the way his gaze softens the moment you run your knuckles along his jaw tells you that he wants that kiss.

“I need a distraction,” he explains, even if you had not asked him for any, “from the pain.”

Your lips form a pout, “I’m not kissing you.”

The line between friends and not-friends grows to blur as the days continue to pass—he would find you whenever he gets into another one of his stupid fights, and it’s easy for you to say that both Eduardo and you wants something more out of your relationship, but it really is not that simple, is it, in the grander scheme of things?

Eduardo groans, raising one of his hands to gently grip your forearm. “Aw come on, don’t be like that. I could really use a kiss right now, I’m all beat up. Plus, I know you want to.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, though you can see how his muscles shift under his t-shirt, trying to hide his pain. You giggle, finally cupping his jaws in your hand.

You like where you are right now, this little desperation in his voice, the thrill you get from fucking around in ways you should not.

And despite the bruises and cuts on his lips, he cracks open a smile—more adorable than anything you have ever seen. “I might not make it through the night,” he raises an eyebrow, drawing out another laugh from your lips, “If you don’t kiss me, you might be responsible for my death. Don’t want that now, don’t you?”

“Urgh,” you roll your eyes, looking away as he unhands your forearm and instead moves to the small of your back, wrapping his arm around your waist. You trace your fingers against his skin anyway. “Friends shouldn’t really be kissin’ each other and all that, you know?”

You lean in, pressing your noses against each other—and you have got to admit. He may be stringing you along, but you are playing into his game too. You like it, though, and who’s to say that he doesn’t?

“We aren’t really friends, though?” Eduardo murmurs, his gaze deep into your eyes before darting down to your lips. He leans up, slowly bridging the gap between your lips, and lets it linger.

It was a soft kiss—a peck, even—and before you can savour any of it, he pulls away. You suck in a deep, sharp breath when you feel his lips gone from yours, your chest burning up, hand still on his face.

“I just need a place to rest for a bit,” he urges quietly, somewhat shy as he looks away, before braving to look you straight in the eyes again with a gentle smile, juxtaposing the wounds on his face. “And maybe shower. Then I’ll get out of your way, I promise.”

“Oh, come on,” you whine, his grip on your waist only growing tighter. ��You said it yourself, my roommate’s got a warmer bed to go home to. You can stay.”

Eduardo’s smile grows into a grin, beaming up at you softly. “I’ll be out by the morning.”

He lets go of your waist, and you try to steady the beat of your heart as you stand. “I have morning classes anyway,” you try to sound casual, like you aren’t trying to fight the muscles on your cheeks from breaking a smile. “I’ll find some band-aids.”

“You don’t have to,” Eduardo tries to get up but groans from a hit somewhere in his stomach.

“I want to,” you insist, turning to scour through the wardrobe.

“Mhm.”

Even just looking for bandages, you can feel his eyes drilling holes into the back of your head.

“You’re a good friend,” he says after a moment of silence, and you can’t help but laugh, though you feel your face heating up.

“I try my best,” just as you locate the small, first aid kit, you turn back to him, only to find his head against the headboard of your bed, offering you the best smile he can muster, showing off his teeth.

“You really do,” he rubs the back of his neck, scooting over a little to give you some space as you go to sit next to him, opening up the kit on your nightstand, “I appreciate that.”

You feel like you are swimming in uncharted waters—him so close as you begin to dab disinfectant to the wound on his lips, then on his cheek, then on his eyebrows. He’s been close before, yeah, and he’s kissed you before too. But tonight just feels so intimate.

Maybe it’s his heavy breathing, and occasional grunts when you hit a sensitive gash. Maybe it’s the way his eyes follow each one of your movements, studying you like he wants to write an encyclopaedia about what you are and what you are not.

“What?” You decide to break the silence gently, glancing up to meet his eyes before focusing back on his wounds. You feel your heart racing again.

“I’m waitin’ for you to kiss me again.”

Eduardo stays still, but he clears his throat. His voice is quiet, relaxed, but also serious; like he doesn’t know if he is ready for rejection but is willing to try anyway. You stop for a moment, looking at him again to try to gather what he may be thinking.

“We kissed a while ago,” you remind, after swallowing the spit gathering under your tongue, praying to the good god that he does not notice how flustered you are. You shift your focus from the conversation to getting a bandaid. You carefully peel the back off, and press it on a particularly nasty wound on his jaw, hoping to not hurt him much. “Here we go.”

“That was a peck,” he laughs and you raise an eyebrow. “It doesn’t count.”

“It totally does,” you try arguing back, trying to convince yourself that you don’t need a real kiss.

“Come on,” he tenses, suddenly straightening up his back, his nose next to yours as he keeps his eyes on your lips. “Again? Like you want it the way I want it.”

He is staring at you like he is standing at the edge of something that he knows he won’t be able to climb back from. And before you can respond, Eduardo closes the small space between your lips, pressing his warm lips against yours again. His hand travels to the back of your head, pushing you deeper as sparks ignite at every contact your skin makes.

And you feel like you could drown in how warm he is, how gentle he is, how soft his lips are. You know that it’s risky, what you are doing, but you lean even deeper into him. Your hands cup his face, digging into the kiss, and when he flinches from a cut you accidentally graze, neither of you pull away. Just as the heat rises, just as both your breaths begin to heave, you pull away.

“You taste amazing,” he murmurs, not pushing any further, and instead rests his forehead on yours.

“Stop it,” you murmur, gently pushing his head away. “You’re just being cheesy.”

You try to act like the kiss doesn’t bother you, like it didn’t get you all worked up.

He laughs. “Alright, alright, don’t be like that,” he catches the hand that pushed his head away, pressing a small kiss on the inside of your wrist. “But it’s true.”

You pull your hand away the moment you feel his lips on your skin, embarrassed and shyness convulsing into one in your face.

Eduardo leans back into the headboard, muttering a curse word when he moves a muscle the wrong way, before directing his attention to you. He shoots you a grin.

You’re in big trouble.

[tequila-solar-storm]

Natlan trio is soo wholesome!!! I find the idea of Mualani and Kinich dumping their grainfruit on Kachina's plate extremely hilarious HAHAHA

Speaking of Kachina I personally hc kinich being surprisingly good with kiddos. Just smth smth about how doting he is in the web event. I wouldn't be surprised if he knew how to knit. Seeing that the girls don't seem morning people I can picture kinich helping braiding their hair if he's around in the morning. Also his in game lines scream mom friend. Which is honestly adorable.

I too hc kinich as being affectionate in a quiet way but if he's directing his affection towards someone, there won't be room for doubts. Elder Leik as his father figure is absolutely canon in my heart and kinich being affectionate with him is such a sweet addition! I can definitely see it, kinich crashing at his house maybe helping with the cooking so they can enjoy a meal together. I am surprised there aren't actually fics about these 2 yet.

Also Leik knowing his son habits and just looking away is SO hilarious xD I wonder if he ever tried talking to Kinich about it and ultimately giving up (he doesn't need to know any details thank you very much)

Thank you author for answering had a blast reading your hcs!

—🌻

Kachina realising that she’s the real adult among the three:

Jokes aside, thank YOU for sending these lovely asks!! Answering them has been incredibly fun!!

Response under the cut! Spoilers for Kinich’s character stories + mention of ‘Kinich’s Deal’ from the Yupanqui's Turnfire Tribal Chronicles!

You’re so right about Kinich being the Mama of his group!! His relationship with the two especially so! Why stop at just braiding their hair? He’ll be helping them brush it too!

Since Kinich is canonically good at housework and other domestic jobs (Out of unfortunate necessity 😭), I won’t be surprised if he can knit as well! I can picture him knitting stuff for his friends, like new gloves for Kachina or a little pouch for Mualani! The possibilities are endless!

I do think he’ll be great with kids! Provided they’re not too intimidated by his seemingly cold demeanour + badmouthing from the adults HAHAHAHA Evidence of this is Huni and Toba, despite not having spoken to him before, calling him ‘big brother’ in CN! Which is super cute! Though it might just be a cultural thing, since Natlan in particular is pretty liberal with all their ‘big brothers/sisters’ and ‘aunts/uncles’ in CN. EN didn’t translate most of it over and I’m not sure about JP and KR…

With what he said to the Traveller at the end of the ‘Kinich’s Deal’ quest, it’s safe to say his affection for someone can’t be more obvious when it’s there!! He’ll definitely cook for Elder Leik, but looking at Kinich’s specialty dish, let’s just hope Leik can handle his spices! I definitely want to write something about Leik and Kinich in the future, but I’m drowning under a whole bunch of WIPs. So I think it’s best if I don’t start anything new until I’m done clearing through them HAHAHA

I don’t think Leik would feel the need to have ‘the talk’ with Kinich since Kinich is beyond mature for his age. He’ll probably just do the ‘ur an adult now so u make ur own decisions but remember to stay safe and yadayada’ song and dance but otherwise won’t bring it up. He’s covering his ears and closing his eyes at all the crazy rumours getting flung around. He doesn’t need to know. It doesn’t exist if he doesn’t perceive it HAHAHAHA

[anti-spop]

tumblr keeps recommending me c//a and pro Catra posts, it's both entertaining and irritating. anyway, i'd like to know your thoughts on this post!

personally, i feel like c//a stans misunderstand our point. we keep saying that Catra does deserve a redemption but she doesn't deserve forgiveness, or at least, instantaneous forgiveness when she has put no effort into trying to change. but they take it as "CATRA IS AN IRREDEEMABLE MONSTER WHO DESERVES TO ROT IN HELL" (which, ironically, is what they say about characters like shadow weaver).

also Adora "wanted" Catra in the finale season because that's how the authors wrote her. it made no sense for her character to suddenly want Catra back after it took her so long to finally cut Catra out of her life.

Do not go after the person who wrote the original post. (this is mostly for my other followers)

Tumblr has been doing the same thing to me, too. It showed me a post that said that as similar as Catra was to Shadow Weaver, she improved to be better. Which is a lie, lmao.

I hate that people think redemption and forgiveness are the same thing. You are allowed to improve as an individual, but the people you hurt don't owe you forgiveness. Sadly, SPOP doesn't have a single character that chooses not to forgive Catra. Even though Frosta punched her in the face, she was more accepting of Catra than Entrapta. Same counts for Perfuma and the other princesses. Though I'm pretty sure anyone would be demonized for not believing that "Catra got better!!!". S5 already does this when Adora vents about Catra being a stubborn brat, she just looks pathetic and Glimmer doesn't take her seriously.

And indeed, most stans think characters like Shadow Weaver or Hordak are not allowed to be redeemed, that's really because they're older and physically disabled.

Finally, yeah, Adora in s4 completely gave up on Catra, she didn't hesitate to nearly kill her without any remorse. Adora's priority was her friends, but especially Glimmer. "I want to be the hero she deserves". But you never see C//A stans talking about that, lol. They only bring up Glimmer and Adora's conflict or Glimmadora at all so they can shit on Glimmer and prove that Catra is a better girlfriend. Which is also bullshit.

Adora is allowed to want things, yes, but s5 pretty much sums it up as her wanting Catra of all people. Not her friends, not a family, or knowing more about her origins, idk. Just Catra. It's literally always about her. Adora is not a character that exists outside of Catra anymore. S5 definitely reinforced this, and the fandom only repeats this. It's annoying.

[introspectivememories]

I FORGOT I EVEN SENT THAT ASK AND YOUR RESPONSE HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK OHMSYGODDFJDJ

I seriously love your writing so much you always put a heap of emotion into it 😭😭

also adore the idea of TIM being the one who's obsessed with bear and going to such lengths just to keep seeing him, I tend to prefer happy endings so I like to think they work it out after a while but like also the angst is amazing

god the amount of yearning in this au makes me so mmmpfhhhf

god im just so sorry that it took me soo long to reply!!! you sent just as i was taking my break from tumblr and other social media :(((

i remember reading it and thinking to myself "god if i had the timbern brainworms, i could write smth for this" but then recently they've been coming back and i was a church bored out of my mind when i was like "hmmm maybe i should respond?"

and ohhh my god, when i first got it, i immediately thought about how toxic it could get and like, personally, i feel like i can't write complicated characters? if that makes sense? to me, im not very good at writing multi-dimensional characters. which to be fair, i never set out to become like a pulitzer prize winning author. i just do this for fun haha.

and like i knew that my answer to your ask was always gonna be toxic timbern but i didn't know if i could write it? ig??? bc like tim is a good person. he is!!! he just wants bear so badly. and it's past the initial physical attraction now.

he and bear are all grown up. he likes bear's wit and humor, well the wit and humor he gets to hear when bear doesn't know he's around. but bear wont let him in!!!! bear wont open himself up and tim's apologized!!!! he did!!! he doesn't even know what he did and he still apologized!!!!! and it changed nothing. bear doesn't talk to him or look at him or anything. nothing but polite professionalism.

and then one day, he sees bear on his balcony as he's swinging through the streets of gotham. and bear isn't doing anything special, he's just sitting there in sweats and no shirt and the moonlight hits his pecs just right and his shoulders are so broad and-

well he cant be blamed for stopping to take a peek, right? and maybe when he has has time he swings by more and more. just watching for longer and longer, until one day bear catches him. and as they stare at each other from opposite sides of the street, tim thinks this is it. the cold glances and frosty words are going to come back. bear's never gonna just sit on his balcony again. he's lost this too. but then-

oh.

bear sends him a hesitant wave and tim raises a trembling hand to wave back. and bear- well bear's mouth splits into a smile brilliant enough to rival the sun. beautiful like the sunrise. the promise of a new beginning. if he closes his eyes, tim thinks he can feel the sunlight's warm rays on him.

hes' hooked after that. he comes around again and again. one day bear lets him on the balcony. weeks later, bear's hugging him. weeks after that, tim's in bear's lap. and he knows it's not right. that bear thinks he's someone else. that bear doesnt want anything to do with him but how is he supposed to let this go? how is he supposed disentangle himself from bear's arms?

so he lies and he lies and he prays to any and every god he can think of, that he'll get to keep this. plus he's not really lying to bear, he's just... not talking about it! if bear asks, he'll tell him point blank. he swears it. but that's a problem for another day. things are looking up! bear said more than 5 sentences to him the other day and yesterday? he even got a small smile. it'll all work out. he'll be fine.

[vbs-kaitos-big-naturals]

you ever feel like your parents dont love you