#idk it could be worse I could have walked in and pretended to work for 2 hours instead at least I have been getting stuff done

[arolesbianism]

Bro I need to get those damn adhd meds already I've been sitting here for the last 2 hours doing like 10 minutes of work max before checking tumblr for 2 minutes before getting bored and spacing out for another 20 minutes cycle repeat all while being like man I'm being soooo productive today I should get a medal and a treat and be given a month off of doing any work for how much work I'm doing rn

[luveline]

also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy

“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 

“Yeah, babe.” 

“No thanks.” 

You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 

“I’ll have socks.” 

You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 

“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 

“Why?” 

“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 

“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 

“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 

She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 

Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.

You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 

“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 

“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 

“No shoes,” Amy says. 

“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 

In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 

You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 

“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 

And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 

You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 

“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 

“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  

Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 

“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 

“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 

“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 

“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 

[firstdivisiongirl]

can i request headcanons for Tokyo revenger; draken, Mikey, mistuya and baji in a scenario where they're walking and a random girl (reader) walks up to them and begs them to pretend they know her because she thinks shes being followed?

(Bonus if reader isn't from japan and just moved there so her language skills aren't that great)

Hi there. This was so cute! So, the only one I did not write for is Mikey. I might eventually write one for Mikey and maybe a few other characters. I made the reader for Mitsuya and Draken foreign, but not Baji's. Idk why I did that but it kind of happened? Anyways, sorry for rambling. Thank you for the request and please enjoy!

Trigger Warning: Stalking

Baji, Mitsuya and Draken Helping Out a Female Reader When They Feel Uncomfortable

Baji:

Baji is a true gentleman

I know right!  Shocker

You were walking home late one night from the supermarket because you needed something to eat and you had nothing at home

You felt these eyes on you

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a man following you

He walked a little faster and faster, but you still felt like you were being followed

Suddenly, you saw this guy, about your age with beautiful long black hair

You walked up to him and asked him quietly if he would just pretend to be with you

You explained that you felt like you were being followed and were scared

Baji immediately looked around and then grabbed your hand.

The man walked away thinking you two were a couple

He asked where you lived and he took drove you home on his motorcycle that was parked not far from where you two were

When you arrived home, he gave you his number

He said if you ever needed to run an errand late at night or felt uncomfortable ever to just call him and he would be there for you

Mama Baji would be proud of her son

And you were happy to have a new friend

Mitsuya:

Another gentleman in Toman

You were new to Tokyo

Really Japan in general

Ever since you moved to Tokyo, you worked late at night at a convenience store so that you could earn extra money to help out the family and take care of your younger siblings

One night on the way home, you just had this bad feeling

You felt like you were being watched

Which was only made worse when you saw a mysterious figure behind you

But suddenly, you saw this boy

He had silver hair and an earring in his left ear

You walked up to him and tried to tell him what was going on

Sadly, your Japanese wasn’t great

He tried to follow, but he was having trouble

Suddenly, a few words clicked and he figured out you were being followed and you wanted him to pretend to know you

He grabbed your hand and smiled at you, kissing your cheek

You were bright red at this point

So was he

Eventually, he noticed the figure walk away

After that, he told you who he in the best English he could speak

Thankfully, he was a good student in English class, so he wasn’t too bad

He apologized for the kiss and walked you the rest of the way home telling you about himself as you did the same

Turns out that was the start of a beautiful friendship

And eventually a really cute romance

Draken:

All these Toman boys are just gentleman

I swear, they are

But anyways

You were on your way home from cram school and you saw a man out of the corner of your eye

You kept walking hoping you were just freaking out for nothing

Well, you weren’t

Eventually, you saw this guy with a dragon tattoo on the side of his head

He looked scary, but you were desperate

You walked up to him and in your best Japanese, you begged him to help you out and pretend to know you.

Well, Draken was a bit confused at first but he saw the look in your eyes and decided to help you out

He walked with you until he saw the man leave

He handed you his number and asked you to meet him after school the next day

After that, he introduced you to all of his friends, including the boys and Emma

That one act of kindness helped you to feel more comfortable not only that one night, but for the rest of your life in Tokyo

They even helped you learn more Japanese and you helped them with English

You were thankful for Draken’s kindness

And Draken was happy to help someone in need

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

[illbegottenfaith]

lucky pt 2 - theo nott x reader

after the Felix Felicis incident, your relationship with theo has dramatically changed, for better and for worse

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - by popular demand! rip my title tho the best alternative I could come up with was ‘feminine ass-kicking’ but idk if that’s too out there. also I’ve started part 3 too! (which should be the final part) this was kind of inspired by gilmore girls season 6 :)

tropes/warnings - academic rivals to lovers, angst, slow burn, miscommunication

word count - 2.1k

The Felix Felicis incident had given the both of you much to think about. Outwardly, you maintained the appearance that nothing had changed between the two of you, taking snipes at each other every now and then. But every night, before you’d fall asleep, your mind would wander back to that evening at the Astronomy Tower, the sight of Theo and the harsh contours of his face softened by the forgiving setting sun. Every night, he asks if you have anything else to say. Every night, you shake your head.

And as much as you’d like to pretend otherwise, things had changed between you. Theo became more reserved, somehow, less determined to spar with you. Your fights didn’t hold anywhere near the spark they once did. And you hated it. You hated that it bothered you, you hated that it upset you, you hated that it was all you could think about every time you were in the same classroom as him. It just wasn’t fair.

What also wasn’t fair was your entire group falling sick the day before an extremely crucial Potions project was due. They were all more than apologetic, but it didn’t change the fact that months worth of work to complete in one night if you wanted even a semblance of a chance at passing.

Which was how Theodore Nott found you in the library late one night, pouring over five gnarly tomes on Potions from the Medieval era, writing what looked like three essays at once. You flinched when you heard a noise near the bookshelves, and your mood wasn’t much improved when you saw who it was.

“Trying to read every book in one night, L/N?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. After weeks of stunted conversation, now that it was just the two of them, he was suddenly feeling chatty?

“I'm busy. Buzz off.”

Ignoring you, Theo crept closer, tilting his head to read what you were haphazardly scribbling.

“The Potions project? But we started that months ago. And it’s due tomorrow.”

You swept the papers up out of his sight. You were already in a testy mood to begin with and you were in no mood to have him crow over your bad luck.

“What part of ‘buzz off’ don’t you get?”

“Where are your groupmates?”

“Sick.”

“Sick?”

“They all went on some Hogsmeade trip together, the whole lot of them. They all caught it from each other and they’re supposed to be stupidly contagious.”

“But their reports should be fine.”

“They were, until Madam Pomfrey declared them a biohazard.” Your head was beginning to hurt from the bottled-up frustration. You knew it wasn’t their fault for falling sick, but now you had to pull an all-nighter just so you wouldn’t fail. You stood and walked past him to the shelves, pulling out any and every book that remotely looked like it might help. 

You glanced at the clock, mentally calculating how much time you’d need. There was no way you could get it all done by 9 am. Feeling quite proud of yourself for successfully giving Theo the same cold shoulder he had been giving you the past couple of weeks, you walked to the library telephone and started dialing the number to Slughorn’s office. One of the only people who could help you now was Jeeves, Slughorn’s teaching assistant, provided he was in a good enough mood.

“Jeeves, hi. Yes, I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you could delay the Potions project submission by just an hour? I’m sure Slughorn wouldn’t mind. It’s just my entire team fell sick all at once, and Madam Pomfrey threw out everything they’ve touched in the past three days, including their reports. I know it's due 9 am but couldn’t you bend the rule a little, just this once? For me?”

You rubbed your forehead anxiously, an unpleasant expression on your face as you tried to follow whatever Jeeves was yammering about punctuality. When he moved on to the importance of personal accountability, you felt like you were going to combust if you didn’t shut him up soon.

“Y’know, Jeeves,” you interrupted with a dramatic sigh, dropping your voice, “just the other day I was thinking about that one Quidditch match you had played a couple of years back. Yes, that one game you subbed in for the Chaser? I have to say, you’re no slouch yourself out on the pitch. You sure look like you know your way around a broom. Yes, exactly, way better than those oafs on the team. I always thought it was a shame you didn’t make the cut - one hour. Yes, yes, that’s all I need. Thank you, thank you!”

You hung up, already feeling much more hopeful with the one-hour extension. All that was left to do was slave away for the rest of the night, and by morning you’d have a more than acceptable report ready.

“…what was that?”

You started, having nearly forgotten who was with you. “What was what?” You asked, half-distracted, once again absorbed in rearranging the layout of your Potions project.

“That, with the - ‘you look like you know your way around a broom?’ Really?”

You glanced at Theo, frowning. “Well, how do you get what you want?”

You turned your gaze back to the book splayed out in front of you, missing the brief look of longing that passed over Theo’s face. “Hmm. Bribery, mainly.”

“Right,” you said slowly, a hint of sarcasm in your tone underneath the flurry of activity. “That trust fund isn’t going to spend itself, now is it?”

“My trust fund doesn’t kick in ‘til I’m 25, tesoro.”

You wanted to kick yourself when your heart fluttered over the stupidly endearing pet name. You didn’t realise how much you missed it. “Oh, oh, of course. Mr. Moneybags here is just absolutely rolling in it even without his trust fund. How could I forget?”

“Mr. Moneybags? That’s the best you can come up with?”

You huffed without any real annoyance. You walked over to where Theo was lounging as he lazily watched you spin like a top between the bookshelves. He had the decency to sit up slightly as you approached and dumped the stack of papers into his lap.

“Look, Nott, I’m on a time crunch here. So either help me or get out.”

Theo looked up at you without a trace of mockery in his otherwise teasing blue eyes. You willed yourself to not look away. 

“Yes, ma'am.”

You made the mistake of holding his gaze. A beat passed, then two. It seemed that it was surprisingly impossible for either of you to look away. Finally, you snapped out of it, mentally giving yourself a good shake as you hurried out of his magnetic field back to the table. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought you were flirting with him.

“Wha -?”

“Toast. From breakfast.”

You glanced around the room bleary-eyed, seizing Theo’s wrist a little harder than necessary as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. As much as you hated to admit it, last night had gone better than you could have ever hoped. It helped to have another pair of hands and a brain that was almost as good as yours. Unfortunately, you must have nodded off at some point, 

Cursing as you finally made out the time on his watch, you peeled off the piece of parchment stuck to your face and continued writing, even as every muscle in your palm protested. Theo rolled his eyes and stuck the toast in your mouth, which you mindlessly nibbled on for the next hour or so. 

When you were finally done, you stuck your group’s names on the cover page and the two of you hurried down to Slughorn’s office a little before 10 o clock. Jeeves, good man that he was, was still in. But your relief was short-lived.

Jeeves did an insufferably exaggerated impression of reading the time as you walked in. “It’s 2 past 10. I’m afraid I can’t accept your submission.”

This was it. You reached your limit. You weren’t running on what was at most 2 hours of sleep just for some self-important dimwit of a teaching assistant to refuse your submission.

You grabbed the collar of Jeeves’ shirt, manhandling him with hours' worth of frustration. “Listen here, Jeeves. You will accept my group’s submission if you want to walk out of here with every part of your anatomy intact. You will take these essays I have here and you will accept them graciously, Merlin help you if you don’t.”

“What happened to using your feminine wiles?” asked Theo, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Yeah, well, now I’m more in the mood for a feminine ass-kicking. Jeeves, come on. ”

You only released him when Theo placed a calming hand on your wrist. He reached into his pocket, offering something to a very red-faced and highly affronted Jeeves.

“C’mon, Jeeves. Maybe we could make this more worth your while.”

You hesitated, torn. On the one hand, you were raised better than to bribe people or accept financial aid, especially when you didn’t really need it. On the other hand, this project was worth 40% of your grade and Jeeves was being a little bitch. 

Jeeves mulled over the coins in his palm, taking his sweet time appraising them. Just as it looked like he was about to ask for something a little more, you slammed a hand on his desk.

“Alright, fine, hand it over.”

Once you’d finally successfully submitted your project, the two of you walked out of Slughorn’s office in a daze. Without the stress of the impending deadline to act as a buffer between you, a certain awkwardness started to set in. Theo had his hands in his pockets, rubbing at a scuffed patch on the floor with his shoe.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you started, but he waved off your protests. Still, no one pulls an all-nighter for just about anyone.

“So how much did you give him?”

Theo sighed. “L/N.”

But you were already pulling out your coin purse. “It can’t have been more than what I have on me now.”

“Y/N.” You stopped counting out your coins. He was looking at you strangely, like he didn’t understand what he was doing either. “Forget it. Really.”

Reluctantly, you pocketed your coin purse. A hysterical sort of giddiness was starting to set in. “We did it.”

“You did it.”

Maybe it was the long night of endless writing or your grumbling stomach. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at you now, with a smile so sincere like he was genuinely so proud of you. Whatever it was, you took a step towards him, and then another before throwing your arms around his neck.

It was a little less dignified than you would have hoped, what with you trembling with barely any sleep and the vestiges of caffeine-induced adrenaline and him having the audacity of being a whole head taller than you since sixth year. But he steadied you before you could tip back, his arms resting around your waist. You had never shaken hands, much less hugged each other, but something about it felt so warm, comforting, familiar. The feel of his solid body pressed against yours didn’t feel so terrible.

But as you pulled apart, you caught sight of his expression, and your face fell. He wasn’t smiling like you, not anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, immediately feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. He still wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look angry either. He looked - you couldn’t tell how he looked. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear almost regretfully, before turning to leave.

“Don’t.”

Theo paused. He didn’t turn to face you.

“Don’t do this, Nott. Don’t be cold. Don’t be distant.”

He adjusted the shoulder strap of his satchel. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was nervous. “I have Charms to get to.” He turned his head slightly but not enough to meet your gaze. “You should get a proper breakfast.”

And then he left, as if he had no idea what you were talking about. As if the last twelve hours hadn’t occurred. As if he hadn’t felt the void festering between you the past couple of weeks.

As if he didn’t care about you.

Part 3

[peachdues]

Heyy, so I was wondering if you could do the "I'm gonna fuck all memory of him out of your head" nsfw for Sanemi? ty and have a great day lovely 🥰

ONLY YOU

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA (NSFW)

PEACH'S 2.K MILESTONE EVENT

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • FWB (maybe toxic?? Idk) • titty slapping • slightly mean Sanemi • creampies • mentions of toxic cheating ex-bf • getting folded in half like a lawn chair • I think I blacked out while writing this • not proofread in the slightest

“I told you when we started this not to expect anything from me,” you were surprised at the way your voice remained calm and steady, even though internally, you felt anything but. “You’ve no right to get jealous over me going to see him.”

Him being your ex-boyfriend, whose apartment you’d just left after spending the night. You knew it was a mistake; you’d known it the second you let the asshole lay you down on his couch and felt the hard press of his cock against your upper thigh as he kissed you with those lips that were so warm and familiar.

Your intentions had been pure when you’d gone over there to collect the last few of your belongings that neither of you had realized he’d still had until a good three months after your breakup. But then he’d offered you a glass of wine, and the two of you sat on his soft, plush sofa — the sofa that used to be yours, just like that apartment; just like him — and got to reminiscing about old times. And then he’d looked at you with those eyes, so sad and so full of regret at the way he’d thrown a three-year long relationship out the window like garbage for the sake of some one-night stand on a work trip with a woman whose name he couldn’t even remember, and you’d caved.

Because really, it felt nice to pretend like nothing had changed, and that he would rock your world and then order Chinese food so the two of you could cuddle and watch some dumb movie while you ate; just like old times.

But everything had changed, and that apparently included your post-sex ritual of takeout and TV, because the moment he’d finished spurting his pleasure onto the curve of your ass, he’d tossed you your discarded shirt and said he’d see you around.

You tried to pretend like the fact he’d used you for a quick fuck hadn’t stung, but you’d walked out of your old apartment still feeling a little bruised.

But you sure as fuck weren’t about to let the quietly fuming, white haired, abrasive, jackass standing in your new living room make you feel worse than you already did; no chance in hell.

Said jackass was really your long-time friend, Sanemi, who, for the past three months, had been at your disposal as you sought to satisfy your urge to be fucked absolutely senseless on a regular basis. The two of you had been friends since college, and had spent the better part of your adulthood ignoring the sexual tension which mounted between you the more time you spent together, huddled away in the dingy corners of your university’s library to study, or late night dining hall runs when neither of you could sleep.

You’d kept in touch for a time, even after you started dating your ex, but admittedly, you hadn’t been the most exemplary friend to the hothead with the heart of gold.

But then, you’d found yourself single and alone in a brand new apartment with nothing but a pile of moving boxes full of memories youndidnt want to revisit and a mattress on the floor. So instead of unpacking, you choose to reach for your phone to shoot a text to your old college friend.

Sanemi agreed to meet up for coffee within minutes of you messaging him. Within a matter of hours, you found yourself back at your new home, face pressed down into your mattress and your ass in the air as you let yourself forget that there was a world beyond the feeling of Sanemi’s cock ramming into your desperate, sopping core.

Only after you’d been thoroughly filled by his cock and cum were you able to form a coherent thought, and so, you’d propositioned him with an offer for a friends with benefits situation — on the sole condition that no one caught feelings.

Sanemi hadn’t hesitated in agreeing, sealing the deal with a rough yet intoxicating kiss as he hooked both of your legs over his shoulders and took you again until you passed out from exhaustion.

Things had been running smoothly, with both of you holding up your end of the bargain — until a few weeks ago, when you’d casually mentioned that you were texting your ex again and Sanemi’s mood had soured considerably.

Not that his apparent jealousy had tempered him when it came time to reduce you to a sobbing, trembling mess beneath him — if anything, he seemed more committed to blowing your mind and back each time the two of you met up.

But you’d blown him off in favor of going to your ex’s only to end up leaving feeling emptier than ever. Only now, you somehow felt lower because beneath the judgmental irritation in his pretty, lavender eyes, Sanemi looked hurt.

“I don’t,” he said tightly, his arms folded tightly across his chest, those mouthwatering biceps rippling slightly. “I just don’t like getting ghosted without so much as a courtesy text.”

You winced, realizing that, in your haste to see your ex, you’d indeed forgotten to tell Sanemi not to bother stopping by. But you were feeling vulnerable and truthfully, you just wanted him to stop looking at you like a kicked puppy. Because, though it pained you to admit it, it broke your heart a little.

Perhaps Sanemi wasn’t the only one who was catching feelings.

But you weren’t about to admit any of that, and so you only mirrored his stance, crossing your arms and jutting your hip out, cocking your head at him. “Oh yeah? Then you won’t mind if your services aren’t needed tonight?” Guilt settled heavy in your gut like a stone as Sanemi deflated slightly at your jab.

That guilt wasn’t enough for you to resist taunting him a bit. “Because I’ve had all about I can handle for the day,”

Sanemi took the bait.

“I find that hard to believe,” he scoffed, his eyes running sensually over you as you stood there, defiantly glaring at him. “‘Cuz you’re not satisfied until you’re damn near passed out,”

He sauntered over to you until the heat rippling off his body threatened to burn you, too. A jolt of electricity shot down your spine as he leaned in close, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispered, “And babydoll, you’re still standing.”

Without warning, Sanemi’s arm shot out and wound around your waist, hauling you flush against him, your noses nearly bumping together. Your eyes fluttered shut at the gentle caress of his warm breath against your lips, awaiting one of his needy, bruising kisses of which you often found yourself daydreaming about.

But a kiss did not come; rather, Sanemi only spoke a promise that sent chills rippling over your skin and unleashed a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

“I’m going to fuck all memory of him right outta your pretty little head.”

Unsurprisingly, Sanemi made good on his word; for not twenty minutes later, you found yourself draped over the back of your sofa, the silvery-blonde fucking you so deeply, you weren’t sure you even remembered your own name, even if you somehow still knew his.

The edge of your couch dug uncomfortably into the small of your back, and idly you wondered whether the force with which Sanemi was pounding into you would cause your spine to snap clean in half. If it did, you probably wouldn’t care; not when Sanemi had one of your legs lay flush against his torso, and the other wrapped tightly around his hips to desperately clinging on for dear life as his cock bullied in and out of your dripping cunt.

A warm, calloused hand teasingly traced up your stomach until it came to your breast, squeezing harshly as Sanemi savored how it jiggled beneath his palm with every bruising thrust of his hips against yours. Your eyes rolled back as Sanemi slapped the plush mound lightly around your nipple, a breathy moan falling from your lips as your walls clenched tighter around him.

“Fuck baby, you like that?” Sanemi’s gravelly voice called you back down to earth as his hand repeated the action on your other tit, a whine tearing from your throat. He chuckled at the way your cunt grew sloppier with every repeated smack against your chest. “Naughty girl.”

Sanemi’s lips latched around your stiffened nipple as his hand rose to pinch and roll the other between his fingers, the pace of his hips never faltering. “Tell me — fuck — sweetheart,” he ground out against your skin. “Did he make your pussy this fucking sloppy?”

As though to emphasize his point, Sanemi swiveled his hips harshly against yours, repeating the move over and over until your living room was filled with nothing but the sounds of your whimpers and the lewd squelching of your cunt.

“N-no,” you managed to stammer out, fingers digging harshly into his hair as Sanemi’s mouth sloppily danced to the valley between your breasts. He seemed please with this answer, as his other hand worked between your sweat-slicked bodies to work furiously at your clit.

“That’s right,” he growled. Sanemi pulled off you in favor of standing up, his cock reaching a spot even deeper within you as his thrusts grew sloppy. His grunts began to be tempered by a slight whine as he drew closer and closer to his climax, his thumb rubbing steady circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs.

With a slight graze of his nail against your clit, you came apart around him with a scream, back arching impossibly higher as you howled his name. Sanemi rode you through the waves of your pleasure, the heavy smack of his balls against the underside of your ass guiding you back down to reality as you realized you still weren’t satisfied — you wouldn’t be, not until you felt him spill inside you only for him to fuck his seed right back into you.

“Sanemi,” you whined, your hands grabbing blindly for him, desperate to bring him closer.

Sanemi chuckled under his breath. “I know what you need, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’m gonna give it to you.”

His hands were surprisingly gentle as it lowered the leg you had hooked over his shoulder and unlatched the other from around his waist. He tugged you forward slightly over the edge of the couch, bending your legs at the knees and pressing them back against your sides.

He was buried deep within you now, the new angle allowing the blunt tip of his cock to press against that one spot that made your toes curl, again and again. As your whimpers devolved into cries of overstimulated pleasure, Sanemi leaned down close to your face, his lips teasingly grazing yours as his pace quickened.

“And did you let him cum in your sweet little pussy, baby?” The look in his eyes almost would have been cruel, but it was undercut by the faintest trace of insecurity. “Do I have to fuck that out of you, too?”

But you were so lost in the post-orgasm haze that you did not answer; at least, not until Sanemi slowed the relentless pistoning of his cock into your spent cunt, and the resulting friction became intolerable.

“I asked you a question, princess.” Sanemi said mockingly, ducking his head to graze your throat with his lips, before giving a mighty thrust of his hips, as you cried out. “Answer me. Did he cum in you?”

“N-no!” Your answer was choked off with a hitched gasp as Sanemi resumed his previous pace, intent on reaching his end and giving you what you both wanted — your cunt, stuffed to the brim with him.

“Only you, Sanemi,” you blubbered, tears of pleasure and pain gathering in your eyes as your arms tightened around his shoulders, clinging onto him like he was salvation’s incarnate. “Only you get to cum in this pussy!”

Sanemi’s groans turned to low growls as his hips snapped against yours, the coil in his gut tightening as you continued to babble, only you only you only you only -

[serxinns]

Harsh words from a beloved friend

Forgotten reader au scenario

Btw this was inspired by this post right here, and the concept and AU are NOT mine. They belong to @lovelybrooke . If you want to know more about the AU and support the creator, please do. They need all the love for their hard work!

WARNING! Before you read this fic includes: violence towards the reader, bullying, infantilization towards the reader, xenophobia? (I think idk), yandere behaviors, manipulation, gaslighting, and other topics that I may have forgotten that are probably triggering as well read at your own risk

A/n: whew, it's done finally. I hope you like it, everyone! Please tell me if I did represent infantilization inappropriately or not accurately in the comments. Constructive criticism is allowed. Also, if anyone can tell me what the headboard represents, it means you get your request written next!

You were lying in your bed relieved at last after barely surviving another harsh day at UA ever since the teachers and your classmates found out about you and Shigaraki's relationship for things have been going crazy and downhill, Aizawa would always have a strange expression on his face as if he was ashamed of himself and pitying you, it felt strange and discomforting like he NOW realized his actions which ticked you off a little but you brushed it pretending to be nonchalant about it

Next was your former friend Izuku, ever since he heard the news he and his gang would make constant checks on you which was very unnecessary in your opinion, izuku would purposely get in the middle of you and Neito's conversation, asking about your concerns and try to get you to spill out how you currently feel in his intention to try to be a better friend again by comforting you in his imagination to your luck tho Neito would shoo him off before he could even continue and quickly drag you away which you thanked him for.

But Bakugo and his friends were the worst. If not worse hell. Every time you walk into the class, they start to give you piercing glares as if they intentionally want to make you tense up. Their words have been becoming harsher during training but you tried to ignore them until they started using physical threats under a ruse as "jokes" Honestly you were scared for your safety so you tried to avoid them as much as possible, begging either Neito or Shinso to assist you while dismissing their questions or concerns, not even thinking what could happen if you were to ever run into them alone

Whenever you are, you repeatedly check your surroundings, making sure nobody is following you, making sure the coast is clear enough to make a run for it in your dorms and locking it.

You were beginning to be more skittish and more anxious about your surroundings always getting started by every single touch on the shoulder or when your friends tried to get your attention, whenever they asked about your sudden behavior you quickly pushed it to the side or made excuses

One day you decided to eat lunch with Tamaki since Hitoshi and Neito were busy with training and stuff, the two of you didn't talk much when eating together but you were comfortable with his presence enough to make some small talk here or there then continued eating, as you were enjoying your lunch Tamaki spoke something out the blue "y/n..are you ok?" You stopped eating and looked up at him "Of course I am why wouldn't I be" Tamaki hesitated a bit but he continued "Y-you're acting all skittish all of a sudden whenever we talk you feel like someone or something is watching you please I'm your friend you can tell me anything-" "I'm fine Tamaki I promise you dont need to be asking me" Tamaki was taken aback at your quick response you noticed his guilty expression and took a deep breath

"I-I'm sorry I'm just stressed from all the tests and stuff you know hero stuff can be stressful" A chuckle left your mouth as you took another bite "Oh alright if you say so but if anything birhtering you dont be afraid to c-come to me alright" you sighed in relief happy that Tamaki believed you so the Two if you continued with your lunch hang out

But that was so far from the truth

Tamaki knows when something is wrong especially when it comes to the people he cares deeply about, for example, he knows when Mirio is faking a smile or when he senses Neijire feeling uncomfortable or how Kirishima tries to stay determined even tho he can hear the slight tremble and stutter in his voice, and this time he now sees it more Cleary as he sees you slowly taking a bite out your food sweating in fear and your fingers twitch a bit it's so clear that you're nervous about something so why not tell him?

He swore to this day he swore he'd find out about whoever is causing you this, and he would protect you from them; for now, he just needs to keep a close eye on you from a distance...

When the two of you finished lunch, Tamaki offered to walk you to the class which you accepted as two if you walked towards your class in a comfortable silent, as you made it to the door you waved farewell to Tamaki and made it to your seat

As the class carried on and everyone was writing down notes for the next test, you couldn't help but feel some glares in you. Of course, you knew who they were, but you felt a particular glare, a glare that made your spine curl up. You wanted to ignore the feeling, but it just wouldn't go away curious but scared you grabbed a mirror/glasses (just any object that fits with a mirror) faced towards you, and slowly rotated it to see a reflection of a couple of your classmates

It seemed fine everyone was either focused on their notes reading or doing whatever until it hit Kirishima... you jumped when his eyes were staring directly at the back of your head intensely his teeth almost showing as if he was gonna rip you apart after class, your heart rate was now increasing you tried to steady your breathing to cover up the fear and confusion, why was he looking at you like..wait of course you know why but why does it feel like he's gonna do something to me...

You looked around to see something or someone to save you from this situation until you remember you do not have anyone in this class to rely on and Neito and Shinso were extra busy, as the class bell rang everyone got up to their seats including Kirishima he began slowly walking towards you with a dangerous glint in his eyes you stood still shaking a bit in your seat trying your best to avoid contact he was inches away from your desk

As he was about to take another step, a sickly sweet voice came out of the blue and blocked your view between Kirishima and you. "Why don't we go to the library for tutoring? We haven't done it in a while, plus I'll help you improve!" You looked up that the black ponytail girl momo was it? The two of you would do tutoring together at the beginning when she began to "forget" them and just stop hosting and inviting you all together

You didn't like her sessions at all now that you remember she would always treat you like some sort of baby early on as if she was holding an animal picture book and pointing out all the animals and mimicking the noises you were so glad Kendo and teru eventually teached you

But it seemed like you didn't have a choice, but you would rather go with a ponytail than wanna know that guard dog would do; all you had to do was zone out of Momo's lessons and wait until it got dark to make an excuse to meet up with Kendo, perfect plan right?

The library would've been peacefully quiet if it weren't for Momo constantly getting your attention to look at some words that you already knew and then talk to you slowly so you could "understand" better you muster up a smile at best to reassure her that you were listening when in your mind you wanted to leave as fast as possible and meet with Kendo

As the clock finally gave you mercy and struck 5pm, you hurriedly made an excuse to end today's session. "Oh man, momo, I think the tutoring session is up. Gotta leave!" You quickly got up, pulled in the chairs, and were about to walk out. "So soon? We just got started! Plus, I can do 2 more hours-" "Oh I would love to but I'm meeting up with Kendo and I don't wanna be a bad friend and ditch her" You didn't see Momo's cheery expression fall as you were too busy packing up and heading out the library "I'll see ya later!" You bid her as the door slammed shut the library became quiet once again with only the ponytail girl's blood boiling trying to keep her cool with a tight lip smile as she waved

You pull out your phone quickly texting her that you are coming which she replies with a smiley face emoji you chuckle texting her some memes and pictures as the two of you are spamming each other's memes back and forth you don't notice how much trouble you'll be in

As you accidentally bump into someone, you quickly backed away for a split second and apologized. You took your eyes out of your phone for a second to see who you bumped into to give them a proper apology and saw..

Oh no...

Kirishima

"You.." you mentally cussed as you backed away from him cautiously. "Oh uh hey-" "Don't 'hey' me, you traitor, you, Mole!" His anger was building up as he stomped towards you and pushed you on the ground; you could barely comprehend what the hell he was talking about and why he pushed you. "What-" "You sympathizer, you traitor. I don't even know how a villain like you could still be in this school!" His words are full of venom" "I know we were a bit harsh to you, but outing us out to the most dangerous fucking villain?! What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"I didn't know he was a villain nor did I know his name!? It's not like I knew he played video games!" "Again with these weak excuses, it was so obvious he was Shigaraki!" "Maybe I would've known I had friends and not be bullied by some blonde brute and his lapdogs!" Kirishima turned to you now with a more angry expression as if he was offended without a moment he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and lifted you to his level

"You have no right to call us that when you're a simple Mole to a dangerous villain who is trying to kill us all!" He molded his free into a fist and reeled it back you bit his hand as hard as you could to make him let go but he bit his tongue and endured the pain even when his hand drew blood

As he was about to land a punch, a sudden tentacle came shooting out of nowhere toward Kirishima's free hand restraining it "Kirishima" The red hair froze at the familiarity of who that voice was, he slowly turned to see where the voice came from and only stopped mid way when he saw the indigo hair male, Tamaki his eyes glared at Kirishima in disappointment and betrayal, Kirishima quickly dropped you as you landed with a harsh thud, rude.

"T-Tamaki senpai!!, it's not what it is-" "insulting your classmate and was about to punch them? Yeah, seems how it exactly is." his words were cut off as he walked past him and toward you, gently helping you up and getting on your feet. "Are you okay? He didn't leave any bruises or marks on you, did he?" You shook your head, still in shock about Tamakis sudden behavior, as Kirishima's anger grew at the sight of the person he grew respect for that he looked up to! Is defending you?! He couldn't stand it

"Why are you defending them you don't know how much danger they put us through!" As Tamaki looked back at the boy with a serious expression," And, do you think bullying and degrading them is any better? This isn't something a hero should do, Kirishima. Have you ever thought about what they feel about it or if they intentionally wanted to?" Kirishima paused for a moment and didn't utter anything, only just avoiding his gaze. "I thought you were better than this, Kirishima; what happened to you being the "manliest hero in the hero alliance?" Was that all a ruse?" "N-no tamaki senpai it no-"

"I don't want you anywhere near me or them I don't respect someone who bullies others"

Those words shattered Kirishima as he looked in disbelief. His thoughts became a blur as he saw his mentor, his friend, leaving with his hands protectively around you, getting far away from him... was he the problem all this time?

Was he actually a lapdog?..

...

"Thanks back there you didn't have to." He stopped at his track and smiled. "No, It's fine. You weren't in the wrong anyway he was. Don't feel guilty for something you did that wasn't in your control." You looked up at him, surprised."You're not mad at me? even when I became a...mole?" That's when Tamaki embraced you with a warm hug "Of course not, even when you make a dangerous mistake like that it was the villain's fault for trying to get in your head and manipulate you but you stood strong and made the right choice by informing the teachers therefore you're not a traitor nor a Mole in my perspective"

Your eyes brimmed with tears with his words, "Thank you, thank you," as you hugged him back a little tighter. Was your luck finally turning around? Maybe not, but slowly, but at least you had more people who didn't see you as a nuisance, a child, or any traitor. It felt nice that you were treated as a human being Even if it was temporary.

A sudden buzz on your phone caught your attention, and it was still snuggled in your pocket. As you pick it up, you see a bunch of missed calls and messages from Shinso, Neito, and Kendo, all spamming concerns about your safety or if they needed to come. "Oh shit! I gotta run my friends are worried for me and Tamaki thank you I'm sure you're gonna be a great hero one day as you gave him one last hug before running off looking for you're friends before they hunt someone down to find you

Timeskip

The next day was a regular day as usual you went into class avoided everyone as possible (mostly Izuku and his gang) sat down at the back of the class and started the school day as you were doodling down stuff you noticed how dull and quiet Kirishima became when he usually would go to mina as they chat each other's ears off all-day but instead he stayed where he was and just looked down at his desk mina came over looking concern for him

"Hey Kirishima you ok man" The bubbly teen hit him on his shoulder playfully but he all did was look at her, nod, and go back to what he was doing which made the hair girl awkward and murmur an "ok" and sat back down when the teacher came in to start the lesson

Even at training, Kirishima didn't utter a single word to you or his friends. Even when they were teasing you, he just looked away. "Hehe, yeah, they're so weak, right? Kirishima, cmon say something!" His other friend Denki kept pressuring him poking his shoulder and urging him to speak but all smack his hand away and walked back leaving his friends in shock and disappointment

Even at lunch, he wasn't even interacting with anyone, just playing with his food as he barely ate. Everyone sat in silence and stared at him until his best friend finally spoke up, "The hell is up with your shitty hair?" He was then ignored as the red hair kept poking with his food staring down at it, making the blonde more irritated. He snatched his tray away and put it far from the table "Are you ignoring me?" Kirishima finally looked up at him with an annoyed expression "I just said millions of times I'm fine blasty so can I please have my food back" bakugo slammed his hand down hard infront of him

"Like hell you are! You've been acting quiet for the whole damn day! And It's getting pretty damn annoying, so spit it out. God damnit, I'm tired of this childish shit" "Kaccha,n, chill o, ut, . Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?" Denki butted him, trying to de-escalate the situation "he's right. What if he's having a bad day today? Or recently but he's right Kirishima we're all worried for you so please stop ignoring us and tell us" Everyone at the table joined him questioning and pressuring him to speak

He covered his ears not wanting to hear more without glancing a final Time at Tamaki and you talking and smiling at each other laughing tears began to brim his eyes as he got up from his seat and quickly ran out leaving his group and even Katsuki speechless

As he made it to the bathroom, he locked himself in there and took a deep breath. He then lifted his head and stared at the mirror, his reflection. "Why, just why did he have to go side with them fuck.." tears slide across his cheeks and fall through the sink he wanted to be angry at you so bad wanted to pin the blame on you or something to make him feel like he was in the right but the memories the flashbacks of how he and his friends mistreated you keep flooding back into his mind making him frustrated and yet gulity..?

Is he feeling guilty? For himself, no... for you, but how?! You're supposed to be the bad guy, not him. Why is he feeling remorse for you out of all people? Why does he suddenly feel like he wants to go on your knees and apologize it was supposed to be the opposite it's such a headache honestly and he couldn't make it stop he wants to stop thinking altogether

A knock at the door startled him and snapped him out of his thoughts. "Uh hey, is the bathroom available he stared at the door for a moment until he spoke up, clearing his throat, "Uh yeah, sorry! I'll unlock it!"

[talesofesther]

I guess that's love

Wednesday Addams x Reader

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

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

Word count: 4,5k of feelings.

Masterlist

It's red. All she sees is red.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's been such a long night.

Is it still night?

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

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

"…nesday? Wednesday!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she did it anyway, didn't she?

She allowed herself to feel things.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're too still.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

"What would you call it then?"

"Investigating."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.

She doesn't.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?" You ask.

Enid doesn't know the answer.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm here.

I won't leave.

My blood will never be in your hands again.

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

I love you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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

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

[your-mom-friend]

There's only two reasons Malevolent isn't set in the modern era

Arthur would look less insane by default because he could just keep an earpiece in and pretend he's on a phone call or has a hearing aid the entire time

Gay marriage is legal and if those two were allowed to be freely in love every episode would be twice as long because we'd have to go through 40 EXTRA minutes of homoerotic banter and they'd never get anything done

Sidenotes on these:

I think it would be supremely fucking funny if it was set in the modern era with the headphone thing because Arthur wouldn't appear crazy, he'd appear rude which is infinitely worse and would also annoy the fuck out of his villains and also friends because he looks like he's on a fucking phone call while fighting for his life.

If he pretended he had a hearing aid in he'd be like "I can't believe you're attacking me. I'm literally queer and disabled. You'll get cancelled" and everyone's like 👁👄👁

Also in the hearing aid situation, someone takes it off him or turns it off (idk how hearing aids work) so he won't be able to hear them except he still can and doesn't know how to proceed without his attacker accusing him of faking a disability he was absolutely faking

If they were in a time period where being queer is allowed we'd get Walking Bisexual Disaster Arthur Lester and get acknowledgement that everyone he meets becomes slightly obsessed with him for better or worse and they might (read: are) a little a lot mayhaps definitely attracted to him. a bit.

Arthur Lester would know memes. You guys he'd know what Vine was. He'd be a tiktok cryptid that every one-in-five teenagers in Boston has seen and witnessed doing something absolutely unhinged. A teenager on a train vlogging about their trip when in the background a blind guy is chasing down some random dude and the other guy tries to throw him off the train and the video goes Viral instantly

I'd love to see Arthur, most assuredly up to date with technology try to work with John, who has no idea what the internet or AI is or ORTHUR SOMETHING IS POSSESSING YOUR PHONE IT'S WRITING DOWN EVERYTHING YOU SAY

In conclusion, Modern AU Malevolent would be more comedy than horror-mystery

[cxsmiicc]

her little devil - lady lesso x reader

happy halloween yall idk wym im totally not 20 minutes late posting this shush

warnings - smut, orgasm denial, eating out, light fingering, vibrator, possessive lesso, halloween party

posted on ao3 also <3

2.2k words

-----

You picked at your chosen costume, suddenly doubting if it was the right one. The red latex clung to you in ways you were unused to and growing insecure of, neckline dipping far lower than you would usually wear and skirt stopping mid thigh. More than a little alcohol had gone into this decision. Well, too late to change now. Grabbing the headband with horns attached, you slammed out of your room before you lost your nerve, smoothing your hair around the cheap plastic as you walked down to the party. Clarissa and her damn parties, ever since the schools had merged it seemed like there was one every other week. And she just had to have the wonderful idea for a costume party, as though you didn’t have enough on your plate with classes and grading and her.

You banished those thoughts to the back of your mind, you had a party to attend after all. Of course whether or not you wanted to was a different matter, you would much rather spend tonight hiding away with a bottle and a vibrator. If you could escape early that could still work, it all depended on how fast Clarissa could corner you into taking drink after drink. For all she preached about good deeds that woman could coerce anyone into doing damn near anything with minimal effort.

Swinging the door open, you spotted her immediately. She was facing you, gesturing for you to join her and whoever it was she was talking to the second you were visible. The mystery woman turned around and your mouth fell open in shock. Lady. Fucking. Lesso. Her hair was straightened and dyed black for the night and there was a drip of blood decorating either corner of her mouth. She smirked at your reaction to her outfit and fangs became visible, successfully creating a fiery heat between your thighs. It only became worse as your eyes slid downwards to the generous amount of skin on show, matching your own outfit in everything but length. Where your dress was short and flared hers was long and fitted, flowing down and accentuating her every curve before pooling on the ground. Breaking yourself out of the haze, you made your way over to the two of them, first smiling at Clarissa before turning your attention to your boss.

“A vampire? Very appropriate Red, if I can even say that with you looking like this.”

“Seems like I should call you that tonight. Even I didn’t think to be quite so on the nose with my costume. The Evil history teacher, dressed as the devil? Somewhat obvious, don’t you think Clarissa?”

The blonde could only stare at the two of you and giggle, already too tipsy to care about pretending she couldn’t sense the tension between you and her fellow dean.

Rolling your eyes at the state of her, you turned back to Lesso to keep the conversation going, “So, what gives with you putting in effort tonight? Call me crazy but you don’t exactly strike me as the type to go all out for a work party.”

“Maybe I just felt like dressing up,” she spun where she stood, giving you a glimpse of the low back of her dress and sending a wave of arousal crashing through you, “My reasons are none of your business, though you seem to be enjoying it just the same.” A wicked grin graced her features, red lips quirking upwards as her eyes flitted across your body. “I must admit, you don’t look half bad yourself.”

“Oh? Careful Lesso, that almost sounded like a compliment. Wouldn’t want the ice queen to show emotion now would we.”

She laughed at you, low and slow and right in your ear. Right when you didn’t think it was possible to be any more turned on by this woman and she goes and does it.

“Ice queen… now that would’ve been a good costume idea.”

“Ah ah, what happened to not wanting to be too on the nose.” It was your turn to smirk as she registered what you just said, eyes darkening with what you would swear was lust if you didn’t know who you were talking to. All of a sudden you felt a tear on your costume and she was forcing you out of the room before you even knew what was happening, one hand firmly on your hip and the other on your shoulder. Everything was a blur as she guided you all the way back to your room, flashing her finger at the door to open it before you collided with the ageing wood. It was only to fling you down on the bed that she finally let go, pacing the empty space on your floor and offering no explanation for what she had just done.

“Care to tell me what that was all about?”

Rather than answering, she just stopped her pacing and crashed her bloodstained lips to yours, kissing you with a desperation you didn’t think her capable of. Just as quickly as she had started it, she pulled away, both hands buried in her hair as she resumed her pacing.

“Do you even know what you do to me.” Her voice came out low and gravelly, sending another spike to your core at both the tone and her words. “Always prancing around the school in those little outfits, it was driving me insane knowing I couldn’t just tear them off and have my way with you. And then tonight, oh tonight,” You stood, drawing closer to her as she kept ranting, too caught up in what she was saying to pay you much attention. “You thought you could just waltz into that party with that much skin on show with no consequences?” She grabbed your wrists and slammed them against the wall above your head before tracing a hand down your torso. “That teeny tiny costume, oh so low cut with a skirt that barely covers your ass. Latex? Not your best idea, my little devil.” Keeping her hold on your hands, she slid a nail down the ripped neckline of your outfit, successfully exposing your breasts to her. “It all would’ve been fine, had it not been for your wardrobe malfunction. Only I get to see that much of you, are we clear?”

All you could do was moan in response as she lavished attention on your chest, drinking in the sight of you half bare and entirely at her mercy.

“I said, are we clear.”

“Mmm, we’re clear, we're clear.”

“We’re clear mommy.”

“Yes mommy, you’re the only one allowed to see me like this.”

“Good, now help me take the rest of this off. Latex is a bitch to sweat in, and I'm guessing someone’s more than a little bit worked up right about now.”

She released her hold on your wrists and you dropped your arms, allowing her to peel the dress off of you and discard it on the floor, leaving you in nothing but your black underwear and horned headband.

“I want to see you, please?”

“Of course, go lay down for me and I’ll be right there.”

Rushing back over to the bed, you lay on your back and craned your neck to get the best possible view as she dropped her dress to the ground and walked over with a sway of her hips that only darkened the visible mark on your panties. She wasted no time in straddling you and pulling you into another bruising kiss, swiping her tongue along the seam of your lips and gaining the access she wanted right away. It was everything you expected of her, rough and selfish while still showing enough care to keep you enthralled as her tongue swept through your mouth, swallowing each others moans as she rolled her hips across your stomach, leaving a trail of arousal in her wake. The pressure of her on top of you was almost too much as she maintained both the force of the kiss and the motion of her hips, groaning whenever her clit hit your skin. Your hands were buried in her hair, ruining the sleekness she had worked so hard for earlier that evening but now couldn’t care less about, not when the thing she had craved for so long was finally happening. She pulled away and you whined and attempted to pull her back in, earning a glare from the older woman as she slipped down the bed until her head was between your thighs. Lighting her finger once more to vanish your underwear, she began kissing down your thighs, slowly drawing closer to where you wanted her the most.

“Please…” you let out.

“Please what?”

Please eat me out, please mommy.”

“Anything baby.” 

Her tongue ran across your entrance and you gasped at the sensation, eyes falling closed and the sound morphing into a groan as she reached your clit. She nipped at the sensitive spot and you saw stars for a moment, the sinful moans leaving your lips only spurring her on. Focusing on your entrance, she kissed and teased at the flesh, dragging sounds you had never heard yourself make before from the base of your throat. Dipping her tongue into you, your back arched off the bed as she picked up the pace, plunging it in and out as your breath came in short puffs of air, most of which were immediately used up on the truly barbaric sounds you were making now. Your walls clenched around her as you reached the edge, spouting gibberish in an attempt to convey how close you were, only for her to retract her tongue and go back to marking your inner thighs. Whimpering in confusion, you opened your eyes to find her staring at you, lips still moving slowly against your skin. Pulling away, she licked the taste of you from her mouth before speaking.

“You really thought it’d be that easy? That you could wear that little outfit, tease me like that, and still get to cum?” The look in her eyes was dangerous, almost predatory.

You looked away, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Look at me,” she grabbed your chin, balancing herself by planting her other hand on your thigh. “If you can’t take it, don’t act like such a brat.” Leaning back onto her heels, she pulled you up with her, forcing you against the headboard when you were upright, mirroring her position and sitting on your own heels.

“Hands on the bed.”

The same glow that usually emanated from her finger this time came from her eyes, conjuring thick swathes of silk and binding your hands to the bed. Scanning the room for a moment, her eyes settled on something on your nightstand and she smiled, leaning over you painfully slowly to grab it. Hand wrapped around her prize, she went back to sitting opposite you, close but not quite touching.

“Now, just what do we have here?” Her hand unclenched to reveal your vibrator, the original plan for tonight before everything went sideways. “Is this what you were planning on doing after the party? Putting in an appearance and then sneaking off to touch yourself? And here I thought you were better than that.” She poised the toy over her entrance, fingers hovering over the settings. “Eyes on me love.”

Pushing it in with a groan, she started it on a lower setting and let her hands roam her upper body, stopping at her chest to tease her nipples, plucking at the bars going through them and successfully causing you to drip onto the sheets. One hand dropped down to turn up the intensity before immediately resuming rolling her piercings between her fingertips, letting every little sound fall from her open mouth, the blood long since smeared across your face and legs. Violet eyes bored into yours during her entire display, the colour barely visible around her blown pupils. The bed shook as she turned it up one final time, rocking her hips for more friction as she reached her peak, eye contact finally breaking as her head fell back and she released a wicked moan that had you writhing against the bonds, aching to feel something, anything other than the soft fabric of the bedsheets. She tipped her head back down, eying you hungrily.

Voice lower than usual she said, “Go on, say whatever it is you’re thinking.” 

The sight of her using your vibrator, the thing that had been inside you oh so many times now inside of her, had triggered some need inside of you that you didn’t know you had. Everything about what she had just done was driving you wild with need, as she could so plainly see by the wet patch on the bed beneath you.

“Please mommy, please touch me I need you gods just please.” Your voice came out far higher than you were expecting it to, barely less than a whine. “I won’t do it again, you’ll be the only one allowed to see that much of me.”

“Damn right.”

She advanced, two fingers easily slipping into your dripping cunt and lips muffling your gasp. The binds stayed around your wrists, rendering you putty in her grasp.

[endmeprettyplease]

Happy Birthday, Aнгел

A/N: idk what this is, other than self indulgent. I love Makarov sm, and I'm desperate to get back into writing. So if you guys have any requests for him, please send them my way. This can be read as og makarov or reboot. I had both in mind when writing it. Reader is female but with no descriptions of appearance. Translations at the end.

Vladimir Makarov x Fem!Insecure Reader

Warnings: BDSM elements, but bad etiquette, collars, overstimulation, reader is a bad person, makarov is definitely worse, no use of y/n, pet names, google translate (so sorry)

Summary: Makarov surprises the reader for their birthday.

Stepping into the elevator you reminisce on your evening. Deciding that last drink was probably a mistake. Although, even after tripping over yourself on the way to your door and fumbling with your keys a bit, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. The warmth of your cheeks from a good night out with friends outweighed any guilt. Until you stepped into your dark apartment. Suddenly reminded of what you were missing. The one thing you did want for your birthday. Likely the reason you’d drank a little more than normal.

Tossing your purse and shoes aside with a sigh. When your arrangement with the man who only identified himself as ‘Vladimir’ began, it was strictly business. Despite the very personal nature of it. You kept him company and he kept you comfortable. Luxury clothes, condo in the nicest part of the city, cash in hand for anything you needed. As long as you did as he asked, discreetly. You knew the inevitable, even as you agreed. That those long nights spent with him between your thighs and romantic dinners would stir feelings in even the strongest of willed.

Nearly a year in and you had been making breakfast watching the news when his image appeared. The same man still sleeping in your bed was plastered on screen beside the names of countless victims. “Makarov Strikes Again” in bold along the bottom. The eggs burned as your mug shattered. The coffee scalding your feet as it spattered but you didn’t move. You knew you had a choice to make. 

Moments later, Makarov had shuffled from the bedroom, hair spiked and ruffled from sleep. Looking incredibly irritated at his abrupt wake up call. A look that was somehow terribly endearing on him. You were fucked, you realised.  When his eyes found the t.v. he paused, slowly tracking his gaze back to you. Making your choice then, you merely smiled back, turning to retrieve some fresh eggs from the fridge. Decidedly unaffected by what kind of person your silence made you. Pretending not to know how it saved your life. 

The memory left your chest feeling hollow, in more ways than one. Against your conscience you had continued to turn a blind eye to his ‘work’. The way he made you feel, the life you lived because of him pulled a selfishness from you that you didn't know existed. Knowing his identity only fueled your need for more of his magnetic and dangerous excitement. More of him. The one thing he could not afford to give you. 

So as it was, you were alone in a condo far too big for just you, on your birthday. Makarov had informed you that morning he would not be in town for the night. Wishing you well with a bouquet at your door and a necklace probably worth more than your childhood home. The necklace itself weighing heavily around your throat, a reminder of what you gave up to have him. Leaving you to question if the loneliness and risk was worth the sparse attention. 

Sighing you felt notably more sober than when you stepped in the door, buzz sufficiently killed by your spiraling thoughts. You settled on going to bed, hoping you’d at least receive a call in the morning. If anything just to know he's safe and alive. You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and moved to walk towards your bedroom before something on your couch caught your eye. Heart pounding as you realised you were not alone. Maybe this is where it all catches up to you-

“Ангел.” Makarov slung his arm lazily across the back of the couch, turning towards you. “You had a good time, да?”

A rush of air left your chest in relief, nearly dizzy with it, quickly replaced by a thrill. “You’re here!” You rounded the couch in record time, happily tossing yourself into his lap. Taking a moment to examine him in the dark you could tell he had showered. The smell of his cologne and your shampoo fresh on his skin. Distinctly lacking his usual scent of cigarettes and gunpowder. His usual dress shirt was replaced by an undershirt and slacks. About as ‘dressed down’ as you'd seen him.  “Did you need to startle me? Why are you in the dark?” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before pulling away. 

Makarov huffed, close to a laugh, one arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close and with the other he gestured towards the large windows and sparkling skyline. “I was enjoying the view, though I much prefer this one.” Pinching your bottom for effect, you squeaked and batted his hand away.

“I’m so happy you made it, you said you couldn’t come.” You nuzzled into his neck, leaving soft kisses in your wake. You could feel the warmth of him through your cocktail dress and it was already buzzing in your head. Alcohol be damned. It had been weeks since he last visited and your need for him was quickly overtaking your senses. 

Vladimir merely shushed you, fingers scratching across your scalp. “I wanted it to be a surprise, it is such an important day after all.” Suddenly his gentle touch turned firm. Balling your hair into his fist as he wrenched you from him. Vladimir tisked, “I understand you’ve had an exciting night. But I expect better from you, моя любимая шлюха.” His voice was close to a snarl, eyes dark. 

Your heart dropped nearly as quickly as you did. Knees falling into the plush carpet between his feet. “I’m sorry, sir. I was just so happy to see you, but it is no excuse for forgetting my manners.” You twisted your hands in your lap, not meeting his eye. You could nearly never predict how he would react to anything. He flipped so quickly between emotions it was as terrifying as it was exciting. Heat already pooling in your cheeks and between your thighs. 

Vladimir’s fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Hush, I have no intention of punishing you tonight. You are forgiven.” His voice soft once again. Finally, his lips met yours in a proper kiss, as deep and unyielding as him. Eventually, you pulled away to breathe, already feeling slightly floaty. Overwhelmed by the feelings he brought out in you. 

“I have brought you something. Повернись.” He gestured with his hand. Quickly, you complied, spinning around on your knees. “Tonight,” Makarov began, behind you, you could hear him opening a box. “I wish to celebrate you.” He easily unclasped your necklace, delicately removing it and settling it aside. You heard a quiet jingle, like a charm bracelet. 

“Now, who do you belong to?” He asked, voice quiet, a thinly veiled threat. But you had never had a problem swearing your loyalty, not to him. 

“You, always you, Vladimir, sir.” 

“Всегда такая хорошая девочка.” He breathed, clearly pleased. A moment later cool leather wrapped around your neck. Thick and firm, smelling freshly polished. Your heart rate rising again as he tightened it around your throat. You could feel your jugular pulsing against the restriction, your mouth suddenly dry. 

Vladimir’s fingers ran along the edge of the collar before slowly cupping your jaw and tilting your head back. Forcing you to bend uncomfortably to follow him. “Tonight, you will take my gifts as I offer them. And you will thank me, да?”

“Yes, sir, thank you.” 

The time it took for him to draw you into the bedroom and strip the dress he had bought for you was a heady blur. His hands always felt cold and calloused. His hands never let you forget what kind of man he was. How dangerous he is. And yet you willingly allowed him to arrange your nude body on the bed as he pleased. Hands bound to the rungs of the headboard. Heart in your throat, yet legs spread because it is what he wanted of you. 

Once satisfied Makarov stepped back, still fully clothed and looking unaffected by the scene, except for the growing bulge in his slacks. One reaction he couldn’t hide from you. Humming his pleasure he ran his eyes along your body and - he turned and abruptly left you. 

You blinked, disappointed but not entirely surprised. You wouldn’t put it past him to insist on rewarding you only to leave you naked and bound for later. He had done it before.  You breathed out a sigh and rolled your already stiff shoulders. Your collar feeling uncomfortably tight, you started to settle in for a long evening. But before you could begin to sulk he returned. Holding another box, black with a pink ribbon tied into a neat bow. 

Vladimir was smiling, teeth looking sharp in the dim light. He was excited, oh no. “Happy Birthday, Ангел. Would you like to open your gift?” He held the box towards you as you stared lamely back at him. The cuffs around your wrists clinking as you shifted your arms.

Huffing an almost laugh again, Makarov rolled his eyes. “Of course, not to worry, I can do it for you. This you will enjoy, I’m sure.” Carelessly he ripped to bow from the box, tossing it aside. Unlike how you, oh so carefully, unwrapped his gifts. You felt a shiver run down your spine, instincts kicking in as your brain had a moment to consider your situation. Maybe you’d finally outrun your usefulness, maybe- 

“Ah!” Tossing the box and tissue paper in the same direction as the bow he produced a small pink…vibrator. Finally breathing again, your panic passed. Despite his flair for the dramatic he wouldn’t hurt you, not in any way you couldn’t take. Not if you were good. And you were always good. The sparkle in his eyes and smirk on his mouth told you that he knew what you were thinking, and that he enjoyed sparking such reactions in you. 

Approaching the bed he looked down at you almost contemplative, as he often did. As if he wasn’t sure what he should do with you. Like a cat unsure if it should eat a mouse or bat it around a bit instead for entertainment. 

Moving onto the bed he encouraged your knees apart, the cool silicone in his hand running along your thigh. “Я скучал по тебе.” Sounding almost wistful as he clicked the vibrator on, it was small and curved and you knew exactly what it was for. Surprisingly gently, he dragged the vibrator across your already sensitive skin. Tickling your hips and stomach before he pressed it to your nipple and bent over to kiss you. 

The kiss becoming more frantic as he worked both of you up. Your arms already straining against your bonds, desperate to tangle your fingers in his hair, to touch him anywhere. Rocking your hips unintentionally you found how wet you were as you stained his slacks. Your slick heat pressing against him through the rough fabric. He enjoyed the friction and allowed the movement for a little longer, before pulling back again. Hand steadying your hips, nails biting into your skin. If he could not keep control of you, he could not control himself. 

“I may not have come here with the intention of punishing you tonight, but I will. If you make me.” There was a near snarl to his tone that caused you to lockup immediately. All movement stilling. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” You breathed, voice shaky. Was the collar tighter?

Makarov smiled again, “I know, мой питомец.” He moved back on the bed, lying between your legs. Grazing the soft skin of your inner thighs with the vibrator, the buzzing making you shake. Desperate not to disappoint him, you held fast and didn't move. “Хороший.” He seemed pleased, and rewarded you by suddenly pressing the vibrator to your mound, just barely above your clit. You twitched, stunned by the sudden stimulation but did not jerk away. Looking down you met his eyes, watching the smile spread even further on his face. Nothing pleased him more than obedience. Well, possibly suffering, but he seemed in a giving mood tonight. For better or worse. 

Vladimir moved closer to your sex, even his breath on you made you throb. Yearning for the mercy he was known to lack, you behaved. Lying still and vulnerable, just how he liked you. Slowly, he dragged the vibrator along the wet seam of your cunt. Stopping to press it harshly to your clit to watch your reaction. But he had trained you well, so when you didn’t flinch, instead tensing as well as you could, he moved to your opening instead. The vibrations along your slick walls made you choke. You wanted to call out to him, but knew better, he hadn’t asked to hear you. The curve to the silicone focused the vibrations perfectly on your most sensitive spot, and  you felt dangerously and embarrassingly close already.

“Хорошенькая маленькая шлюшка.” Makarov lifted his head, resting his cheek on your hip, fingers still pressing against the vibrator inside you. “Do you like your present?” 

You swallowed harshly, finding words hard to push past the leather constricting your throat. Suffocating, like him. “Yes, sir. Very…much, thank you.” You finally managed. Your world narrowing to nothing other than him and your need. He smiled again, almost boyishly, and began rocking his fingers, clicking the vibrator up another level. This caused a reaction that you simply could not fight. You threw your head back, cuffs noisly clanking again as your hands gripped the bed frame. A cry you had no chance of stopping leaving your lips. 

Despite this, Makarov only sped up his movements. Pressing the silicone into you relentlessly. You tried to think of anything not to come. But it felt like you didn't have a choice, he’d been gone so long. Just as you began to lose hope of being good tonight, Vladimir spit on your cunt. Your hips jerking in response. “Go ahead, you do not need to ask for permission tonight,”

The words had barely registered in your cloudy brain before you were coming messily onto his hand. Your slick running down his wrist. Had you been in your right mind you would’ve picked up on the danger in his words. He did not stop, forcing you to ride out your high as long as possible, even as you twisted in his grip. 

When tears started rolling down your cheeks he let up. Allowing you to take a deep breath. Vladimir shifted, moving away from you. You realized now he would finally fill you, you'd get to feel him inside. What you’d been gagging for all those weeks he’d been away. Relief filling you as you spread your thighs for him again. 

Yet, of course. 

Makarov tossed your legs over his shoulders and locked them in place with his arms. 

Of course, this wasn’t actually a reward. 

When his mouth descended on your overstimulated nerves you squealed. Hopelessly twisting and writhing against his unrelenting embrace. Wrapping his lips around your tender clit as he pressed the vibrator harder inside you. It didn't take long to draw you to the edge again. Fighting the painful pleasure as you sobbed openly now. You knew it was too good to be true, how many times has he taught you that?

Wailing through your second orgasm, you tried to wiggle away. Twisting against your binds, your wrists aching. You couldn't breathe, not between the collar and his relentless tongue. Makarov’s attack on your sex is ruthless, as he always has been. The more you struggled, the tighter he held you. Ignoring your protests in favor of his prize, you. Your addicting submission, desperation and most importantly, your forgiveness. It made him greedy, drunk on his power over you. So he drank and drank until he pulled a third and violent high from you. Squirting messily into his open mouth, thighs squeezing around his ears.

The moment he relented, you dropped limp. Panting like a dog and dazed, barely aware that Makarov had stepped off the bed to remove his clothes. 

“Ты так хорошо справился, ангел.” You heard him say, distantly. Like you were underwater. 

The next thing you registered being the freedom of your hands, tingling as blood finally moved into them freely. Though you barely had time to acclimate as he crawled on top of you. Painfully hard cock resting against your stomach. 

“Sir..?” You whined. Broken and desperate for more, less, him. You weren’t sure. But you knew, whatever it was, he knew, and could give it to you. 

Shushing you uncharacteristically gently, he dragged himself through your slick to your raw opening.  Pausing only to pull the vibrator from your sex and tossing it behind him, still buzzing. 

Vladimir filled you completely. Your walls still tender and throbbing from your last orgasms, making you feel as if he were spearing you. You felt truly flayed and open for him to use. And Makarov took full advantage. Starting a brutal pace, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in. You reached out, your manicured nails finding purchase on his back. Scratching his tattoos as your other hand steadied you against the headboard. Barely preventing him from fucking you through it. 

Vladimir’s head fell into your neck, lips spilling praise. A sloppy mix of Russian and English you couldn't even begin to decipher. Not when he was filling you so full and so deep. Your thighs locked around his hips. You wanted him deeper, closer. You never wanted him to leave. You knew what he did when he was gone. 

Wet fingers met your sopping clit, at a perfectly painful angle. Screaming, you tried to force his hand away, but your arms refused to cooperate. Flailing against him uselessly. “Come with me, шлюха.” He snarled, biting into your neck harshly below your collar. Regardless of your protests, you did. The moment you felt him fill you with his own release. With the ringing in your ears, you couldn't tell if you were screaming.  

Disoriented and… wet, you awoke. You could hear the bath filling as you were lifted into strong arms. “I’m very proud of you.” Makarov murmured. Slowly making his way to the bathroom and settling you in the tub. 

You relaxed for a moment as he left the room. Allowing the warm water to soothe your sore muscles. You reached for your neck and found the collar gone, only tender skin left in its wake. You felt more drunk now than you had when you returned home. The endorphins and adrenaline in your blood making your vision blur.  

When Makarov returned, proudly naked, he held a bottle of water to your lips. Which you greedily drank, slowly feeling your brain return to you. This was when he was most kind, most generous, most unlike himself. When he was freshly drunk on his own pleasure. Slowly he slid in behind you in the tub. Chest pressed to your back, arms holding you close. 

“Thank you, sir.” You sighed. Relaxing fully into him. 

You felt him smile behind you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Of course, I want my ангел to have the most… pleasant birthday.” Slowly his hand trailed down your stomach, reaching your hips before you even thought to protest. Fingers finding your still throbbing clit with practiced precision. Like it was his mission. 

“I- I can’t, wait… Please, sir!” You squealed, twisting against his arm, wrapped tight under your breasts. Water sloshing out of the tub and splattering across the floor. 

“You can, ангел, and you will. One more.”  His tone left no room for argument, though you were well past heeding warnings. Fighting the climax he intended to bring you, until the very last second. Screaming and thrashing in his arms as the agonizing pleasure wracked your body. Leaving you limp and breathless against him. 

“I knew you could do it, good girl.” Makarov purred, running his hands soothingly across your body. 

“Happy birthday, Моя любовь.” 

Translations:

Ангел - Angel

Да - Yes

моя любимая шлюха - My favorite whore

Повернись - Turn around

Всегда такая хорошая девочка - Always such a good girl

Я скучал по тебе - I missed you

мой питомец - My pet

Хороший - good

Хорошенькая маленькая шлюшка - Pretty little slut

Ты так хорошо справился, ангел - You did so well, angel

Шлюха - Whore

Моя любовь - My Love 

[the1975attheirverybest]

5 Stars

A/N based on this. I’ve actually had an idea to write something where Matty is in a relationship with a writer. Idk is this me soft-launching this couple? Is this just gonna be a one-off? We’ll see. 

Warnings: mentions of anxiety. 

— —

“Matty! Good to see you! Where is your better half, by the way? I’ve been trying to find her and congratulate her, but I don’t think I’ve seen her anywhere.” Her friend (a term she would use loosely here), the magazine columnist, approached Matty. 

He felt sweat drip down his back and he listened to this woman’s shrill, disingenuous enthusiasm, trying to keep a tight-lipped smile the entire time. Stay calm, stay calm, don’t let anyone know you’re pretending. “Thank you, Maureen. Really. She’s uhh- around here, somewhere. Just busy. She’s the guest of honor, she’s got a million people to see today. You know how it is. I’ll pass along your congratulations, yeah? Excuse me, please.”

With a gentle nod, Matty extracted himself away from that woman and to the other side of the room as soon as he saw his girlfriend’s best friend. “Ashley! Thank god I’ve found you. Have you seen our superstar yet? I can’t seem to find her anywhere and she’s not answering her phone.”

“I was just coming to ask you that!” Ashley clutched his onto his arm. 

“So, what we’re saying, here, is her book goes out into the world in a few minutes and neither one of us knows where she is?” Matty was officially panicking right now. His eyes darted around the room, scanning the crowd’s faces for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

“Pretty much. For all we know, she’s not even in the building.” Ashley shrugged. 

Something about that statement finally told Matty exactly where the love of his life was. “Course she’s not in the building!” He mumbled. 

“What?”

“Nothing, never mind. Think I know where she is. I’ll text you if I find her. Just in case I’m wrong, though, maybe take another look around?”

Ashley nodded and walked off in the opposite direction, looking for mutual friends or book editors, anyone who might have seen her friend or knows where she is. 

Matty studied the layout of the room, looking around for the fire exit sign. Once he’d managed to locate it, he opened the emergency door and took the stairs upwards, to the roof. If he had to guess, he would probably find her up there, smoking a pack of cigarettes that she’d stolen from him without his knowledge. 

At the top of the stairs, the door to the roof of the building was open. Yup. He was right. She was up here. He pulled his phone out, texting Ashley that he had found her, and then he checked the time. They had twenty minutes until she needed to be in the room. He could work with that. 

“Coulda at least told me you were going for a smoke break. I’d have joined you.” He called out to her as he walked up, taking his blazer off and wrapping it around her. It was cold out here in the open night sky, and her short dress wasn’t going to keep her warm. 

She turned around, attempting to give him a smile, despite her anxiety. Silently, she offered him his pack of cigarettes back.

“Lighter?” He requested as he placed one in his mouth. “Thanks, my love.”

“How’d you know I was up here?” She asked, blowing the smoke out of her mouth and looking at the skyline. 

“It’s where I would be if I were you.” He needed to approach this subject with complete delicacy. Despite her calm and collected act, Matty knew she was anxious right now, and he didn’t want to make it worse right before she had to go back in there and give a speech. “Oh, heads up. Maureen’s here.” His eyebrows shot up, watching her out of the corner of his eye as he stood next to her. “She’s been looking for you.”

She made a gagging noise. 

“She seemed like she was gonna implode with jealousy.” He added, hoping he’d make her laugh. 

She tossed the end of cigarette to the floor, stepping on it with her heel to put it out. She shook her head, “don’t know what she’s jealous about…” 

Matty heard the strain in her voice and turned around to look at her, her expression breaking his heart. “Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” His brows furrowed.

“I- don’t wanna do this. Don’t wanna go down there. In front of all these people.”

“Baby-“

“I know, I know! This should be the happiest day of my life. It’s a dream come true. I’ve wanted this my whole life.” She’d been quietly spiraling all day, now that she’s started speaking, it was like the flood-gates had opened. She wasn’t even registering Matty’s attempts to console or comfort her. He’d tried to remind her that she worked really hard on this for two years. Tried to tell her that she deserves this night, that it’s okay to be nervous, but none of it seemed to make a difference. So, eventually, he gave up. He stopped trying to speak, and decided to just be there and listen. 

“It’s not like I’m ungrateful! I know how big this is and how important this night is for my career. I just- I’m just-“ she fell quiet, frustrated that no word in the English language could possibly capture how she feels right now. 

“Nervous?” Matty offered a suggestion.

“Nervous?” She shook her head. “Matty, I’m fucking terrified! Look.” She stuck her hand out, showing Matty that it was shaking relentlessly. 

The sight made a wave of pain jolt his heart. He couldn’t stand to see her like this. He couldn’t watch as she trembled and do nothing. He grabbed her shaky hand in his, kissing it. 

“Oh, honey. Why didn’t you talk to me sooner?”

“I- I didn’t- I didn’t want it to be true. I wanted the fear to go away. I just wanted to be happy.”

Saying the words out loud finally made them true, she felt tears running down her face. “Oh, fuck, now I’ve ruined my make up, too.”

Matty wrapped his arms around her. “No, no you’ll ruin your white shirt! Matty!” She attempted to push him away, but he wouldn’t let go. 

“It’s okay, my love. It’s okay. I’ve got you. Who cares about the shirt. Just, let me hold you, okay? Let me.”

She took her first deep breath of the day. “I just don’t want this to be a disaster. My parents are here. You. George and Charli. Ashley and her brother-“

“Don’t mean to interrupt but Adam and Carly found someone to watch the baby. So they’re here too.” He tried to make her laugh, it seemed only to make things worse. “Sorry, sorry. Go

On?”

“I’m saying….I don’t want to let them down. Or my editorial team or my publishers! So many people’s livelihoods depend on this book, not just mine. And, everyone who’s loved me and been patient with me, and supported me through this. Everyone who didn’t laugh in my face when I said I wanted to be a writer, everyone who gave me feedback, helped me work out my ideas and make them real…the room is filled with everyone I love-“

“And Maureen.” Matty grinned. This time, she laughed. 

“…and Maureen.” She rolled her eyes at him. “My point is, this is the most important thing I’ve ever done and I have never been more scared to share it with the world. This whole time, it’s been my little dream. And as long as it remained that way, it couldn’t disappoint anyone. But now that it’s becoming a reality, right in front of everyone….oh my god! Book reviews are gonna start coming in soon! What if they’re not good?”

“It’s okay.” Matty’s armed tightened around her, knocking the wind from her lungs. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“How do you do it? Every two years?” She spoke, her moth next to his ear as he continued holding her through the panic. 

“Do what?”

“Release a new album! It’s your innermost thoughts and feelings in audio form and you just release into the world where people will judge it and critique it and tear it apart. How? How’d you do it when ‘Self Titled’ came out?”

he let her sleep out of his arms so he could step away and look her in her glassy eyes. 

“Oh, honey. When we put out self-titled I don’t think anyone cared. Nobody knew who we were back then. Your situation’s slightly different cuz you’ve actually written pieces here and there. People know who you are.” Matty smiled at her but he could tell that his words only served to remind her of the looming expectations of the masses. “Ask me about ‘I Like It When You Sleep,’ though.”

She sniffled, wiping the tears out of the corners of her eyes. “Okay…umm, what was it like when you came out with ‘I Like It When You Sleep’ ?”

Matty, took her hand again, squeezing it and rubbing his thumb over the back of her palm, soothingly. He knew it brought her comfort in situations like this. He looked up at the sky, as if the past were written in the stars. “It was….the most terrier I’d ever been in my entire life. As you know, George’d had this…anxiety during the making of the record. Cuz he felt the pressure of the world watching. He went a bit insane and lost confidence for a long time. For me, that didn’t happen during the making of….it happened after. I was so scared people would hate it.”

“So, how’d you deal?”

“Drugs.” He said without missing a beat. 

She smiled in spite of herself. “Okay, unless you have some cocaine in the pocket of this blazer you’ve given me….”

He kissed her forehead. “That’s not what I mean! I’m not done yet.”

“Sorry, go on.”

“The day before the record came out, I had…a similar nervous breakdown to the one that you’re having.” He winked at her. “I started thinking about the record and what I would go back and change about it if I could, whether I had any regrets or made any creative decisions that I was now questioning….”

“And?” She looked up at him with her big, beautiful eyes, expectation written all over her face. 

“Honestly? Not a single thing. Wouldn’t change a damn thing.” He finally looked away from the starry night and directly in her eyes, making her blush at the intense gaze. 

“Would you go back and change anything?” She considered his question for a moment, thinking about the various drafts she’d gone through, the rewrites, the choices to cut some pages and add others. A feeling of calm enveloped her as she spoke “nope. not a damn thing.”

“Then, you’ve got nothing to fear.” Matty smiled, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into him. “No matter what the press says, no matter how tonight goes, no matter how booksales go…you’ll know you made the right decisions and did what’s best for the book. Not what’s selling these days, not what’s trendy, not what’s popular. You know what else?” He kissed her cheek, wiping the wet tears that had been drying on her face away. 

“What?”

“ your mind is brilliant. Anything that comes out of it is completely stunning. If the world can’t see that, then the world can go fuck itself.” He spoke with the softest tone, as if singing a lullaby. 

She giggled and shook her head. “Biased!”

“Hey, baby?”

“Yeah, Matty?”

“Put your hand in the inner pocket of my blazer. I got you something.” A bright smile erupted accords his face.

 She took out a sheet of paper, frowning. “What’s this?”

“Your first 5 star review! Go on, read it!”

“The- the New York Review of Books?

Is this real?!!!!” She was stunned. “Matty, I swear if this is a joke, then-“

He chuckled loudly. “It’s not a joke! It’s just not out yet. Comes out next week.”

“How did you? When did you? What-“ she stuttered, her tongue unable to keep up with her racing mind. 

“I have a music journalist friend who knows someone over at the NYR, so….didn’t know what to get you as a publication day present. Figured this would do.”

Matty watched her squeal with joy, dance around the roof, and eventually jump into his arm and hug him tightly, whispering “I love you” repeatedly into his ear and kissing his cheeks and neck. 

“If you’d given it to me earlier…could’ve spared us both the meltdown.” She noted when she’d eventually calmed down and had a moment to think about it.

“I know. But I wanted you to feel better because you’d thought about it and decided to believe in yourself and your book. Not because some guy from a fancy publication thought you were worthy.”

He melted her heart. As if she weren’t already in love with him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him by his side. “That’s the sweetest thing that anyone’s ever done for me.” She kissed him. 

“The fancy publication is quite nice, though, isn’t it?” She grinned, beaming like a ray of sunshine. A remarkable difference from the cowering shadow of herself that had been crying and fearful a few moments ago. 

“You have no idea how proud I am of you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, giving her a peck. “C’mon. It’s almost time. We gotta fix your runny makeup.”

“Hold my hand until we get there?” She reached her hand out to him. 

“Of course. You’re gonna be alright, my love. If you get scared, think of me. If you feel panicked, look for my face in the crowd. I’ll be the one in the front row, crying tears of joy.”

[aldritch-ao3]

Your art is so prettyyy

Also, I love how Tengen is also wierd about their Master. "I need to voim this old man like a tree" ok girlypop. I think both Tengen and Kenjaku should be allowed to be wierd girls, as a treat.

THANK YOU i was having fun yesterday . i haven’t been drawing much for a bit bc i’ve been a bit unwell but it was nice to have an idea haunt my every waking moment and compel me to draw. i mean this genuinely it’s like enrichment to me

and it’s important to me that both of them were just so weird. lightly implied in the limited pov we got from one twin, they grew up poor and social outcasts among their village, both for their lowly birth with no father in the picture and for their ‘strangeness’ - isolation largely informed by a childhood of seeing spirits no one else could see and therefore no one else believed in. while kenjaku was a bit too in her own head to be largely affected, tengen was absolutely always aware of it in every interaction she had. she was initially deeply suspicious about her sister’s mentor and his intentions, but by the time she decided to accompany them in lessons and housework she’d spent like twenty years putting up with being considered a walking bad omen. (in an incredible showing of poor judgement, kenjaku was actually the better-liked twin by most - being less affected meant she rarely showed reactions, and she just had the good luck of looking a little prettier and a little less strange)

going from that to being treated with gentle adoration and protection from someone she placed as an authority figure definitely got to her head more than a bit, tied with some jealousy over any perceived favoritism directed at her sister. all really normal human reactions, really.

the whole early dynamic from his perspective is the funniest to me because he could NOT be less interested in these weird village women who want him relentlessly. he even tried to pawn them off on other sorcerers once or twice earlier on and that didn’t work bc they liked him so much (and he got lonely without them. he would continue to get lonely without them for the next 1600 years). past the decade or two he spent teaching them they all got weirdly codependent and spent another century just constantly together. and then they spent centuries cycling through like every dynamic they could because eventually you get bored and the only other two people you can always rely on to be around are your fellow immortals. idk if any of them have truly ever been a healthy level of obsessed but at least he tried to pretend for a bit.

tengen eventually got sort of normal and that bypassed their sister entirely by like a mile. their sister only ever got worse. i’m obsessed with them all there’s nothing right with them

[trishlia]

Coffee Crush.

characters: chandler bing, monica geller, rachel green. (chandler x yn)

context??: one shot, cute adorable stuff idk.

words: 594 (its so short I'm sorry)

a/n: sorry for not posting or being online!! I've been busy for the past few days. qwq please enjoy this and give me some ideas to write more!! ty for the likes from my previous chandler one shot! (I read it and I cringed so bad qwq)

*** y/n pov first person.

I walked across the streets and enter inside a coffee house, Central Perk. I'm a usual customer there, I buy myself a cup of coffee and head to work. I don't go there just for a coffee though.. A person. A tall man, a tall brunette who sits on the orange sofa at the end of the coffee house. Who make sarcastic jokes to his group of friends. Its just a coffee crush though, it's not like I get to be with him. It looks like his close with the black haired girl. I'm pretty sure her name is Monica.

As I order my latte, I sat beside the window, near the coat hook and read the daily news. I'm usually early and wait for the man, but its mostly because I'm always running late. The waitress came to serve my coffee, its one of the brunette's friend, Rachel's her name. As she place my coffee on the table I checked to see if it were the correct order. Gladly it was.

The man I've waited walks in the coffee house with his friends, they all sat down at their usual spots. The brunette sat close with the black haired girl, I'm not gonna lie, I'm jealous but at the same time I'm happy he has someone. I continue to read my paper as I take a sip of my coffee, I was pretending to mind my business when I'm actually just listening to the man's voice. He did a sarcastic joke which made me laugh behind the paper.

After a couple of minutes, I glance at my watch. I should be heading out finding a cab before traffic gets worse. I finish my latte, fold the newspaper and place it on the table. I stood up from my seat and pay the cashier. I was about to head out as I wore my coat when suddenly somebody touched my shoulder, 'Uh, hi.' he said.

I turn to see who it was, a tall brunette, the brunette who I listen to everyday in the coffee shop, the brunette I wait every single day just to see him from a far. 'Oh- h-hi.' I stuttered. It's not normal for a girl to get interrupted by a man they've been spying.. or stalking.

'Hi, hi. Uhm, Chandler. Chandler is my name, uhm. Hi!' He also stuttered which made me force to hold a weird smile that is creaking from my face. 'Nice to meet you, Chandler.' I greet him, funny how I knew his name before I even get to meet him properly, 'Y/N, if you're wondering. How can I help?' I asks the taller man, I said way to fancy for a guy like him. God, why am I so awkward?'

'Y/N.. It's uh very nice name. Well, I thought I could uhm, ask you out? Like a date. If you can, of course.' He said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. I stared at him like it was a dream come true, 'Sure!' I replied, 'What time?' His nervous emotions turns into something positive than before, 'What about 5 pm, today? Dinner's on me.'

'That'll be great.' I said, 'Wanna meet up here?' I point my hands to the ground. 'Yeah, see you, Y/N.' He walked away and did a hand motion dance to his friends. I smiled widely and walked out of the coffee house fixing myself into my jacket as I try to find a cab. I guess I have some luck in life after all.

[deemizer]

The Selfish and the Selfless

Warnings: adhd and autism talk, typical criminal minds violence possible idk, insecurities? panic attack mentions and one experience, though idk how to describe what i go through since feelings are foreign to me.

Parings: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

A/N: i got high and realized my adhd is worse and better when i'm this relaxed. idk man, i was cleaning and thought of this. i base most of the reader's issues as how i perceive them, though with my (possible autism since i haven't been professionally diagnosed) i don't understand what feelings are happening, like i need an owner's manual to navigate, understand and name each feeling. sorry, long rant, but in my defense, i'm high. idk if virgina has legalized marijuana or not, but let's just pretend the did for the sake of this fic.

---

Dating Aaron Hotchner was nice. Great, even. You often had doubts about why he loved you, especially since you started feeling constantly on edge, skin itchy, kinda uncomfortable. You knew why, but you wouldn't risk Aaron finding out. You didn't want to make him decide whether he wants Jack around weed or not, so you stopped smoking to relax just a couple of days before you went on your first date with Aaron. It's been a little over a month (38 days, 23 minutes, and 56, 57, 58 seconds, but who's counting?) and knowing Aaron's career and abilities that come with the job, you figure he knew something was wrong the minute the withdraws starting hitting you.

Not working at the BAU was probably a good thing, as people raising their voice often makes you go into a panic attack. You started working from home, doing a third shift computer job. That way, if Aaron ever needs an emergency babysitter, you're open. You can take him to school, sleep, go pick him up, and have a fun night before bed with the baby Hotchner, then go back to work again.

Jack loved your American Staffordshire Terrier, Layla. She was so gentle with Jack, and like you, she protects Jack like he is her own son. Aaron was weary about Layla given he hadn't been around many bully breed dogs, but the second he walked into the door, Layla chose him as her new person. She still protected you, but he was her favorite. And she typically didn't like men besides your grandfather .

You had had enough, and since you knew Aaron shouldn't be around as he was at work and probably wouldn't be home till well into the night, and Jack was with Jessica today and tomorrow, you took a couple of hits from the Snail battery and the highly potent cartridge. You haven't done so in so long, that even though you had medication that slowed the effect for a good ten minutes, you could already tell the high was going to be good. Layla walked behind you as you walked around the house, randomly moving on from chore to chore without finishing the previous, bopping your head along to the speaker you have for your spotify playlist.

You had given Aaron and Jack a key to your two bedroom house, which is probably why you didn't hear Aaron walk in, nor did you realize that Layla was no longer behind you. Hands wrap around you from behind, and you squeak loudly and flinch slightly as you startle.

"What the- Aaron! You scared the shit outta me!" You pant, forgetting about the hits and the more twitchy you are with a full body and mind relaxation.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to scare... you. What's that smell?" Aaron starts sniffing the air, and you can almost feel your face drain of color.

"Uh, what smell?" You ask, trying to keep your voice even. Attempting to take a step back, though Aaron's grip on your forearms stops you and draws his attention to you.

"What's wrong?" His eyebrows raise slightly in concern, though his frown deepens.

You can start to feel your breath quicken, as though you've been holding your breath for far too long. Your arms start to clench up, and cross to hold your chest. Hands forming a tight, white-knuckle fist, and your shoulders tense up to your ears.

"I uh, I'm sorry," Your voice is weak, and you start to tear up from both panic and embarrassment. This is the last thing you wanted to show him.

"Why are you sorry? Are you," He pauses, eyes working up and down to profile you. "You have autism."

You almost snort, forgetting your panic for a second. ADHD and being high does that to you. "Yeah. I told you on our second date. When we had a movie night at yours with Jack."

"You don't usually react this much. What happened? Are you okay?" His words cause you to sigh. Might as well get this over with.

"I smoke marijuana sometimes, when I'm overly stressed, or need a day to relax, go to sleep. Plus, with ADHD and autism, there's a thing called masking. I've done it for my entire life, without knowing I was masking, and without being able to take off the mask. So when I'm high, it calms my mind enough so that I can't wear the mask, and then in turn get to enjoy in having ADHD and autism, because it feels more natural. I stopped because of you and Jack. I could do without getting high so I didn't risk losing either of you. You mean more than my unmasking. I don't change my personality, other than shy till I know you, type of deal. Just the tics, forgetting words immediately, doing random things." You take a breath, which is shaky. You start to loosen slightly, given the fact that his frown has almost become a thin line. He doesn't seem angry, that of which you could tell.

You keep your hands gripping the opposite shoulder, but most everything else looses tension. He seems to sense the anxiety and relief, because he tries to smile, succeeding in only lifting one corner of his lips.

"Honey, I appreciate the thought of keeping Jack away from it, but that doesn't mean you have to stop feeling comfortable with yourself. I don't really mind, though we can discuss the details later. Is that the reason you've been slightly down lately?" You bite your lips and nod at his question, looking down to your feet that touch Aaron's toes in his work shoes.

"I uh, thought that if you couldn't be with me because of it, I would stop and it wouldn't bother me. I haven't been in a good state of mind, and I didn't really know how you'd react. I can't really judge things like that anyway. I just didn't want to loose the one good thing I feel like I've earned. Being lonely and touch starved really messes with one's mind. Being an introvert doesn't help either." You scratch your neck, kind of nervous to look up.

His hand comes up to your jaw, and you lean into it, the nerves firing with his touch. Being high makes your senses more sensitive.

"I don't mind, if this is what makes you feel happier, and more comfortable." Aaron says, thumb rubbing your cheek softly.

Smiling inro his hand and nuzzling your nose into the heel, you say, "I promise I won't do it all the time. I usually just do it when I'm alone, so I can be free and not bother anyone. I won't ever do it in front of or be around him when I'm high. It's not an escape, just something for the really off days."

"I know, you don't need to worry about that. You're too selfless to worry about yourself when Jack or I are around. I'm just glad to know you do stuff for yourself." He pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on your head, and his arms around your shoulders. His touch feels so relaxing and warm, and you just melt into him.

Thank whatever power above that Aaron fell for you just as you did for him. There's nothing you wouldn't do for your boys. Seems the feeling is mutual.

[chocos-universe]

Lee!scm where he’s having a bad day and someone cheers him up? Ler can be anyone

(I love ur fics btw!)

You sunflowers have such good ideas ahh!! And thank you so much, ehe!!

Love Your Laugh!

___________________________________________

--Suction Cup Man stopped laughing for a while from being self-conscious about it. But, he has a best friend:)--

___________________________________________

|Lee - SCM -- Ler - Gina|

___________________________________________

Suction Cup Man was staying at Gina's for a while. Why? He was growing insecure about his laugh and needed company. I mean... snorts and hiccups? Come on! What's NOT to be embarrassed about it! The fact that he laughs easily, too, makes it worse! So, he's been holding in his laughter. Gina has definitely noticed this. This wasn't Suction Cup Man... this was a Sad Man. Something HAD to be done...

Suction Cup Man was in the spare bedroom, lying down curled in a ball. Gina sighed and walked in "Hey Raspberry... how's it going?" Gina said in a tone of concern, closing the door quietly behind her. "...Fine." Suction Cup Man sighed, looking devastated. "You... want some tea, Buddy?" Gina asked as Suction Cup Man shook his head, some tears welling up in his eyes. "No..." his voice cracked as he covered his face. "Awh... bud..." Gina frowned, walking over to him, sitting next to him. "C'mere..." She opened her arms for him as he crawled over, sitting in her lap curled in a ball, her arms wrapped around him, rocking slightly yet slowly back and forth. "Shh, it's okay, Raspberry..." "I'm a weirdo..." he covered his face in his hands. "Cuppy... you aren't." "Why is it so weird?!" He whined, curling up more. He was so insecure about it that it was getting concerning... he hardly ever laughed, and it was affecting him and his health deeply.

Gina knew her idea was probably bad, but... it just HAD to work. Giving him tea, new towers to climb, plushies?? He loved all of that! Yet, none of it worked. So, this was the only thing that COULD work. "Cuppy... can I see your hand?" Gina asked in a soft tone, holding her hand out. Suction Cup Man sniffed and looked up at her. He looked at her hand before sighing shakily and giving him her hand. She gently flipped his hand so she was holding his back hand before gently placing a finger on it, tracing his hand lines (idk what they're called:3). Suction Cup Man flinched slightly before a wobbly smile appeared on his face

"Ehe... no-- Gihina!" He giggled softly, shaking his head. "What's wrong, bud?" "I hahate this-- plehease!" He snorted, which made him cover his mouth with his free hand. "Um... I don't think so, mister!" Gina gently kept tickling his hand before grabbing his other, nuzzling his palm "Wahait-- aaahahahaha! *hic* G-Gihihijima!! Ahahahaha!" He giggled, snorted, hiccuped... oh well. This was all worth it to hear those bubbly giggles and wobbly smile! "Come on, your laugh is so sweet.." Gina said with a genuine tone. "Noho it's nohot!" Gina gasped, pretending to be offended "My goodness! Making such false words?! What has happened to this generation..." "Pff-- whahahat?!" He snorted as he laughed more at Gina's choice of words. "Ya heard me. Your laugh is so bubbly, snorty, hiccup-y, cute~" "Naha!" "Naha? Nope, sorry sir, gotta repeat that." "Gihihina!!" "That's not what you said, you silly goose!" Gina gently spidered her fingers up and down his arm. "Shihihit!! Gihihina plehehease! *hic* Oh nohoho!" "Oh yes!" "Gihina!!--" He could've just pulled oit and ran away or pushed her to make her stop. But... he loved this affection. Even if it made him laugh. "Who's a widdle cutie?~" "Noho-- nohot mehe!" "Aww, it IS you, isn't it?~" "Fuhuhuck!!" He hippcuped and snorted, Gina chuckling along. "You hear that? Adorable laughter~" "Okay! Ohokay! I gehet it! It's cuhuhute!!" "You obviously like this, right?~" "Soho?!" Gina chuckled before stopping. "Don't be ashamed of your Laugh, buddy. I love your bubbly giggles." She smiled, booping his nose softly as he huffed "Whatever half-bald bastard..." Suction Cup Man mumbled, crossing his arms."Oh, you red little shi--" Gina pounced on him, pinning him underneath her before lifting up his shirt and blowing the biggest raspberry she could

"BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! GIHIHIHIHIHINA!! NO-- NONONONONONOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! *snort and hic*" He shrieked with laigher his feet kicked slightly

"You take that back, mister!!"

🖤End🖤

(Sorry if it's short, sunflower. Hopefully, this makes you happy💕💕)

[hotchs-bitch]

Hiiii, hope you're doing good today 🤠 could i get a blurb from the Well Respected universe with Hotch and reader from before they got together 🥺 maybe her first day on the job or something, idk I'm feeling fluffy lmao

Hiiiiii <33 you absolutely can!!! I hope you’re having an amazing day. Also if I ever write a prequel chapter you have to pinky promise to pretend this doesn’t exist bc continuity errors give me a headache <3

Ps I do not think this is fluffy enough and I’m so sorry😭 pre relationship makes me so nervous to write fluff for cause I don’t want them to be TOO familiar yk

“Sir? The new agent is here to see you!” Garcia chirps from the doorway, and Hotch glances up from his paperwork without lifting her head. “I like her. She’s very… well, you’ll see!”

She flits away without a word, leaving Hotch only slightly nervous as to what she means. Her presence in the doorway is replaced by a shadow a second later, and then he sees you.

It’s a good thing that Hotch’s unwavering professionalism is one of his strong suits. Otherwise, god only knows what sort of embarrassing reaction he would have the first time he sees your smile. He blinks once, twice, snaps himself out of the haze he didn’t realize he had fallen into while you stick out your hand.

“Agent Hotchner, it’s nice to meet you. I’m here for orientation,” you say, and your eyes are so wide, your face is so eager, and Hotch is just grateful that your profiling skills aren’t as developed as his own. Yet.

He shakes your hand as he stands up from his desk, and nods when you introduce yourself. He commits both name and pronunciation to memory, then rounds the desk. “Let me show you around,” he offers, and when you nod he starts towards the open door.

“This is a really nice office,” you tell him, and he can’t tell if you’re trying to fill the silence or if you genuinely think that. “It’s an honour to work with you, sir. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Hotch hums, a short noise from somewhere in his throat. “Not all bad, I hope,” he murmurs. It’s fruitless; he knows you’ve probably heard all about what an overworked asshole he is. His reputation precedes him in most circles, for better and for worse.

“Not at all,” you assure him as he leads you to the conference room. When you start to turn in the wrong direction out of his office, he guides you with a hand on your back to keep you on track while letting you speak. “Well, I mean. I’ve heard a lot.”

A wry chuckle escapes him against his better judgement. “I’m sure you have. This is the conference room; every time a new case comes in, we meet here to go over the details. Garcia is currently transitioning us away from paper files, so we should be a little more high-tech in a few months.”

“Penelope, right?” you double check and he nods in answer while you look at the TV screen, chairs, and file folders. “She seems nice. Very bubbly.”

“She’s very nice. Bubbly is a good word for it,” he answers smoothly. Something about you is bringing his guard down, and he hesitates for a moment. “You’ve heard a lot, you said. About the team?”

You shrug one shoulder and follow him out of the conference room and down the stairs to the bullpen. “Some stuff about the team. Some stuff about the leader.”

Hesitancy is written all over your face. Hotch stops walking, forcing you to stop as well. When you make eye contact with him, he raises one eyebrow. Tell me more, it seems to say.

Maybe you’re feeling ballsy because it’s your first day, or maybe something about the arch of that eyebrow makes you want to tell him anything he wants to know. “They just never told me you’d look like that,” you murmur, averting your gaze again. “What’s next?”

That’s… well, it’s not what Hotch was expecting to hear. He files that thought away for later, then puts a hand on your back to guide you towards the cluster of desks that make up the BAU. “We’re full of surprises,” he says quietly, and it doesn’t take a profiler’s eye to see the way goosebumps rise on the back of your neck when you walk in front of him. “Let me introduce you to my team.”