#lol figures the first time in forever I actually have an idea and want to write my laptop is a heaping hunk of shit!

[imwritesometimes]

Legitimately sat down with the full 100% intent to actually write. My laptop however seems to have other plans 😑

[wesstars]

heaven on earth (ii)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)

summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!

read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.

masterlist

For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”

You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.

“Alright, it’s your turn.”

The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear. 

Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.

You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.

You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?

You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.

Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.

“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“I’m surprised you know.”

“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.

“Did you just laugh?”

Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing. 

“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.

You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.

After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.

Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park. 

“Why have you stopped?”

“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”

“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”

She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.

Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.

You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.

You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.

Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss. 

“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.

It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.

She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron. 

The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you. 

“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.

“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.

You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”

You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”

“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips. 

Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.

She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow. 

She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.

You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.

Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.

You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”

She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.

“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind. 

“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet. 

“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.

What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.

“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”

You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.

“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.

“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.

“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”

Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.

“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”

“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”

“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”

Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.

“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.

“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.” 

“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”

“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”

In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”

Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.

“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”

“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.

“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.

“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”

“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.

“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”

The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.

A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”

Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.

“In the cracks of light,” Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”

She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.

Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.

“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.

“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”

“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”

Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.

“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.

Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.

“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”

You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.

There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”

When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side. 

“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”

“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”

Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.

“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.

“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.

You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.

Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.

“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.

“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”

You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver. 

“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.

“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”

Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.

She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.

“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”

Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping. 

“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”

At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.

“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.

“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.

“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver. 

“Fuck—”

You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”

She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping. 

“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.

“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.

“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday. 

Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips. 

Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.

“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.

Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you. 

“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.

You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”

--

wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you. 

reader: huh?

a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?

I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[libraryofloveletters]

With Sweet Comes Sour

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: charles just wanted a peaceful valentines, so much drama and so many emotions, lots of tears, assumption of cheating (no actual cheating), weird ass exes, all the kids are in here, a few insulting terms, alcohol and the consumption of, being drunk, slight explicit content, bar brawls, blood and bruises, google translated french.

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s Note: okay here's another piece to the series, sorry it took me forever to get this out but I didn't have any ideas until now lol. happy early valentines!

Daddy & Me + Three Masterlist 

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The rollers stacked on her vanity as you undo the curls in her hair. Eloise was doing the final touches on her makeup as it was her first Valentines with her boyfriend, Anthony. They're going for the full cliché; movie and dinner and a stroll by the pier when they are done.

This is the first Valentine in 17 years that you and your husband have the house to yourselves. You were going to make the most of it, spending some quality alone time without your children pestering you.

You leave her to finish getting ready before going down to check on your husband. You hear the doorbell ring, and you figure it was Anthony here to pick her up so you let the boy in. Eloise comes downstairs in the meantime and you could hear her speaking to her father.

"How do I look?" She asks him; her baby pink dress sat above her knees.

The man smiles, twirling a curl that sat on her shoulder. "Très belle, ma chérie." (very beautiful, my darling.) You smiled as you watched the interaction, Anthony steps past you towards his girlfriend. He had brought her chocolates and flowers.

She kisses his cheek; young love.

He had another bouquet of flowers, Eloise sets her gifts down in the kitchen as Anthony walks to you. "For you," he hands you the roses, you smile at him.

"Thank you, sweetheart. That's very thoughtful of you," you toss a glance at your husband who definitely forgot to get you flowers.

Eloise returns a moment later, linking arms with her boyfriend. "You two be safe," Charles tells them. Anthony nods, "I'll have her back before midnight."

"Just come home safe, you're both old enough to be responsible." You say, walking them to the front door and sending them off with a wave. Your husband comes up behind you the moment the door shuts, hugging you from behind before he carries you to the couch.

"So pretty lady, what are we going to do with our empty house?" He asks, you could practically hear the mischief in his voice.

"I'm gonna order takeout and drink a whole bottle of wine," you nudged him off of you, making him groan.

Charles was hoping he'd 'get some' so to speak, seeing that the house was in fact empty and would be for hours. Eloise and Anthony wouldn't be back until after midnight, Sofia and Christopher had gone up to Marseille for the night to spend time together and Gabriel and Oliver were at some club with Georgina and Adrian for the night, so you weren't expecting anyone back anytime soon.

"This is our first valentines together, alone, in a long time," Charles tells you, watching as you sit next to him with two glasses of wine.

"I know," you tapped your glass to his gently before taking a sip.

"It's odd," he whispers into your shoulder, kissing your skin softly. You nod, "but nice. Now hurry up and pick a place, I'm starving."

"Always so charming, my love." He rolls his eyes, earning a playful nudge as he reaches for his phone. You two settled on the Italian place that Charles liked.

He put on some random movie that the two of you had started watching a few days ago and never finished. You find yourself cuddled in your husband's side, his arm wrapped around you as you two tried to figure out what was happening where you left off. Eventually, Charles gives up on the movie and focuses his attention elsewhere.

Your husband pulls you onto his lap, his hands on your hips. "What do you want?" You asked him, your own hands on his shoulders, one sliding up to the nape of his neck; his hair had been growing out, all fuzzy and tickling his skin.

"I can't give my wife some love?" He whispers into your skin, lips peppering kissing along your neck as he pulls you into him. He reached your lips, you mumbled a no before kissing him.

His hands slip under your shirt, yours tangled in his hair; you make a mental note to call your mother in law to book him a haircut.

It's like you're teenagers again, all over each other with no room to breathe.

Hands make quick work of Charles's shirt, tossing it behind you somewhere as he goes to flip the two of you over, pinning you under him just as the doorbell rings.

You can't help the giggle when your husband groans, getting up to get the door as he assumed it was the delivery man with the food.

Except he's met with an annoyed Christopher, who just rolled his eyes when he saw his father shirtless and his mother on the couch. He pushes past Charles and goes to the kitchen.

"Chris?" You called after him, seeing Sofia walk in moments later on the verge of tears and you get up, tossing Charles's shirt to him.

The brunette follows her boyfriend, not saying anything until she reaches the kitchen. There's a screaming match, the two of them switching from English to Italian and then a mix of both. Something about a restaurant and a guy or something along those lines. Sofia's holding onto Christopher's arm and he gently pulled away, walking out the front door and slamming the door shut. Charles follows behind him, probably talking him down from doing something stupid.

These damn Leclerc's and their drama.

Getting up, you walk over to Sofia and sit with her in the kitchen. "Is everything okay? We weren't expecting you two back tonight, actually, we weren't expecting you back for the entire weekend."

The girl sniffles, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I hate him."

"Me too," you nodded, rubbing her back. "What did he do this time?"

"It wasn't even him, well I mean, it was but it was me. Actually, well.. it's complicated." She says and you raise an eyebrow, unsure as to what she meant. She speaks, explaining herself. "I bumped into an old friend, and when I say old friend, I mean an old friend. I haven't seen him in like, maybe, six years because he moved from Madrid to London. He just happened to be in Marseille with his girlfriend for Valentine's Day as well."

"Okay... I'm still waiting for what was so bad about that."

"I was waiting for Christopher to get out of the bathroom when my friend noticed me and tapped me on the shoulder. We exchanged hello and exchanged pleasantries, then he kissed my cheek on the way out. Christopher being Christopher, automatically assumes the worst."

You made a face, "so Chris got mad because.. he kissed you on the cheek? Is he dumb?"

"Exactly," she grumbled and you handed her a tissue to clean up her face. "Honestly, that's how Spanish men are, though. They're always affectionate, your father is the same way. I'm certain your friend didn't mean it in the way Christopher took it."

"Even if he did, I didn't take it that way. He has a girlfriend, and regardless, I love Christopher and I would never do that to him."

"I know you wouldn't." You gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Why don't you get something to drink? I'll go see what's going on with them outside hm?" You leave her be for the moment, letting her settle her emotions.

Charles is listening to Christopher ramble, the younger Leclerc spiralling and getting himself caught up in some nonsense lie that his brain made up.

"Christopher," you call for him, stopping him from speaking. He looks at you. "What?"

"You need to apologize to her."

He makes a face, confused as to why you're telling him to apologize when he clearly did nothing wrong, or so he thinks.

"Sofia is a sweet girl, who has no control over the actions of others, and who loves you very much despite your nonsense and your dramatic flare. So you get your ass inside and apologize to your girlfriend for ruining Valentine's day. Either you drive back to Marseille or you figure out something here, because you aren't gonna ruin today for her."

"He kissed her!" He says, flinging his arms in the air. Charles's eyes widened, "what?"

It seems Christopher had left out that detail.

"On the cheek," you clarify, "and so what if he did? You kiss Georgina on the cheek all the time and Sofia doesn't get upset. This guy was just some friend of hers, you need to get over your shit and put your ego to the side because if you don't, you'll lose her."

Christopher huffed, taking in his mother's words before turning and heading inside. You and Charles followed a moment later, hearing bits and pieces of their conversation in the kitchen but eventually, they came into the living room, holding hands.

"Dad," Christopher calls for his father, the man looks over at his son. "Can you get us a hotel room? I tried to get one but everyone says they're booked."

"I can try but why would it be different for me?" He asks, clearly confused and as clueless as the day you met him. "Because you're the prince of Monaco, Charles. Now start calling." You tell your husband, getting up to answer the door - the takeout had finally arrived.

Charles tried his best to get a hotel room for the kids, and even pulled his prince of Monaco card but despite it all, it was Valentine's Day and everywhere was booked.

Sofia decided that she wanted ice cream and Christopher, doing anything to make it up to her, agreed - ignoring the fact that he hated ice cream just for tonight. You sent them off with a wave before returning to your husband on the couch. Charles was refilling your wine glass as you took the food out of the bag.

You two had barely gotten 5 minutes into eating when the door opened and in comes Eloise with her mascara running down her face. She ran straight to her father's arms, collapsing into him.

Anthony follows behind her, the front door slamming shut as he rambles out something in French. "Ce n'est pas à quoi ça ressemblait! Ellie, tu paniques pour rien!" (This is not what it looked like! Ellie, you're freaking out for nothing!)

Eloise had returned home on Valentine's, in tears and was now holding onto her father as if he was going to disappear. The look you saw in Charles' eyes was one you thought was only held for Ferrari and all their torment but it was now directed to his best friend's son, - his baby girl's - his daughter's boyfriend.

"What's going on?" You handed Eloise a tissue, moving to sit on the arm rest of the couch, making yourself the middleman between Charles and Anthony.

The anger on your husband's face made you giggle internally, you could never take him seriously when he was upset - but you understood it. He didn't like to see his kids hurt, especially not his baby girl.

Anthony sighed, passing a hand through his dirty blonde hair; fluffy and flat, much like his father's. "My stupid ex girlfriend saw us while we were at the pier. She came to say hello and she was way too friendly with me - all over me, kissing my cheek, her hand on my chest, all in my face." He groaned, clearly disgusted by this girl.

"Why would you let her do that when you know you have a girlfriend?" Charles asks him, you could hear the roughness in his tone. Your hand gently moves to his shoulder, rubbing it softly.

You spoke next; "did she know you had a girlfriend?"

He nods, "Eloise was taking a picture of something so she was a few feet away and I guess she took it the wrong way when she saw her all over me. I was trying to get her to leave me alone but god, she's like a fucking pest - sorry," he makes a face when he realizes he swore. You wave him off before he continues. "Ellie took it the wrong way, which I understand but she won't hear me out, she thinks I'm cheating on her."

"Are you cheating on her?" Charles asks him.

"No!" You and Anthony answer at the same time; the boy trying to defend himself and you couldn't believe your husband would even ask that.

Eloise finally sits up, her father wiping her cheeks clean. Her blue eyes rimmed with red and slightly puffy from the tears and she turns to Anthony. "Va-t'en, je ne veux pas de toi ici." (go away, I don't want you here.) She tells him, voice trembling.

"Je ne pars pas, Éloïse." (I'm not leaving, Eloise.)

"Ok, je le ferai alors." (okay, i will then.) The girl gets up, walking the other way around the living room and heads up the stairs to what you could only assume was her room. Charles was just as wrapped around her finger as he was when she was born, and followed her to make sure she was alright.

These damn Leclerc's and their drama.

You rolled your eyes at your daughter's dramatics.

Yes, she was upset but Anthony had explained the whole situation in front of you, her and her father. While Anthony might look exactly like his man whore of a father, he was everything like his mother; a sweet, kind and fiercely loyal woman.

It broke your heart to see her upset but it also hurt you to see Anthony in the same state. You get up, hugging the boy as he sniffles, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.

"She just needs some time to cool off, she's dramatic like her father." You tell him, trying to lighten the mood. You walk him to the kitchen, getting him some water.

He sat in the breakfast nook. "I swear I didn't even see her until she walked over, otherwise I would have walked the other way."

"I know babe, is this the same girl that stalked you after you broke up?"

"Yeah!" He groans, sipping his water. "She's so - ugh." He says, making you laugh. You kiss the top of his head, leaving him there for the time being as you put away what was supposed to be dinner. The food sat on the coffee table, cold and unattended.

The door opens again and you groan, praying it's not another issue but it wasn't; Sofia and Chris come stumbling in, clearly having consumed something other than ice cream.

"Mama!!" Chris grins, untangling his fingers from Sofia's as he walks over to you, kissing your cheek multiple times like he did when he was little - slobbering on your cheek as he did then too.

You laughed, smelling the booze on him. Steadying him, you held his waist. "Hi baby, you okay?"

"Soooo good," he tells you, wobbling over to Sofia, who was also drunk but more steady than your son. You watch as they go upstairs, the sound of the door opening and closing before you walk back to the kitchen.

Anthony still sat in the breakfast nook. "You want something to eat? Something else to drink?" You asked him, wiping your wet cheek off with a tissue.

It takes him a moment to respond. "You know when we were little and you'd cut the apples and make the little peanut butter sandwiches with the slices?" He asks and you nod.

"Want some?" You were already grabbing the apple, peanut butter and honey. Anthony smiles, nodding like he was a kid again.

You washed and cut the apples, spreading the peanut butter and honey on them, sandwiching them together and handing the plate to him. "Thank you," he says, sinking into his seat as he takes a bite of the familiar taste from his childhood.

"Mhm hm," you smiled, hearing the footsteps from behind you. Charles was coming down, kissing your temple as he picked up an extra piece of apple you had on the cutting board.

"Ellie just needs some time." He says, staring daggers at Anthony; if looks could kill.

You huffed, smacking the back of your husband's head. "Stop it, he feels bad enough as it is."

Another set of footsteps come from the hallway and you assume it's Christopher looking for something but then the sound of the front door slamming shut caught your attention. This house was like a free for all, everyone coming and going as they pleased - you made sure to make a mental note to see who had keys to this place.

In came Gabriel who was being held by his boyfriend, Oliver. The two of them were covered in blood and Gabriel had cuts and bruises all over his face.

"What the fuck? What happened?" You say, Charles rushing over to help Oliver sit Gabriel down on a chair.

"He's so fricking hot headed," Oliver says, holding his boyfriend up straight.

It was clear that Gabriel was beyond pissing drunk, the boy swaying unless someone was holding him. Anthony takes over for Oliver, holding Gabriel up as Oliver goes to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

"What happened?" Charles asks, passing you the cloth as you wiped the blood off your son's face. "I have no clue," you tell him, being extra careful not to hurt him; not like Gabriel would feel it anyways.

Oliver comes back a moment later, setting the kit on the counter and taking back his spot next to Gabriel.

"Ellie's asking for you, man." He tells Anthony, who glances at Charles before quietly making his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Before you could even ask, Oliver starts explaining the events of the night. "We met up with Georgina and Adrian at the club. We were all a little tipsy, and Georgina was trying to get a drink at the bar. Some guy came up behind her and he was getting all handsy, trying to touch her and Adrian was in the bathroom so he didn't see it happen, but Gabriel did and he stepped in." Oliver sighs, brushing his boyfriend's hair from his face.

"Basically, Gabriel told the guy to fuck off and said if he touched Georgina again that he would break his face. The guy took that as a sign to leave and once Adrian came back, the two of them decided that they were going to go get something to eat and just spend the rest of the night at home. But Gabriel being Gabriel, our night couldn't just end there of course."

You carefully patched up Gabriel, wiping his cuts clean and putting antibacterial ointment on what needed it , making sure he didn't need stitches or anything.

"The guy came back again a few minutes later. He was super drunk, as was Gabriel and you know how Gabe can be. They started fighting and next thing you know, they're beating the shit out of each other in the middle of the fucking club."

Oliver tells you the story, causing you to roll your eyes at your son's behaviour. You're proud of him for standing up for his friend but must he always get into a fight for stupid reasons?

"I tried to stop him but I forget how strong Gabriel is sometimes." He huffed and you looked at him, seeing the blood on him. "Are you okay?" You asked, moving over to check him.

"I'm fine," Oliver smiles. "It's Gabe's." He says, gesturing to the blood on his shirt.

Charles was making up the guest room downstairs while you patched Gabriel up. In his drunken state, you all knew he wouldn't be making it up the stairs. Your husband comes back to help Oliver get Gabriel into bed and you threw out the bloody mess that had developed on the counter.

You put the plates in the sink, tossing the garbage out and headed up to check on your oldest and youngest.

There were noises coming from Christoper's room and you figured it best not to investigate further. Eloise's door was open, you knock softly and peek in when you don't get an answer. Her head resting on Anthony's chest, the two of them cuddled up and fast asleep. Switching off the light, you pulled the door shut quietly and made your way back downstairs.

As you reach the bottom step, Charles appears from around the corner. He hugs you, squeezing you tightly.

"What?" you asked him, cupping his jaw.

"Our kids are insane," he tells you, sighing. You can't help the laugh, leaning down to kiss your husband. "Those are your genes."

Charles rolls his eyes and takes your hand, pulling you behind him.

"Where are we going?" You asked, following him. He leads you to the car, opening the door for you to get in before getting in himself. It was a short drive and you two ended up on the pier, Charles parks the car and looks over at you.

"What?" You asked him again.

"Just wanted some alone time with my wife," he whispers, leaning over to kiss you. "I can't have that?"

"No," you shook your head, leaning in your seat to reach him. Charles smiles against your lips, as you melted into each other, lost in the moment.

With a soft smile and a lingering touch, you reluctantly pulled away with your cheeks as red as the first night he kissed you. "What was that for?"

"Nothing," he says, smiling. "Happy Valentine's Day babe."

"Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

--

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**if you were previously tagged in a daddy & me + three piece and you aren't no, that means your tag wasn't working or it was sent incorrectly to me. please message me and I will fix it!

[sanguineterrain]

Hiii, discovered your fics on AO3 and they’re very my jam! If you’re still taking requests, could I suggest something where Jason rescues you, an angsty hurt/comfort? Maybe they’re pining for each-other and maybe confront/confess their feelings, or are already together, up to you.

No worries if not 😊😊 Thanks for the good words ❤️🖤

Hey I know you! Thanks for leaving nice comments over yonder 🥰 Idk if I really delivered on this prompt but I hope you like it anyway lol 😅 I combined this prompt with another I received about Jason and the reader fighting before the reader is hurt/kidnapped.

jason todd x fem!reader. tw: creepy men, crime alley, injured reader, jason shoots people (🎶whatta mighty good man🎶)

****

"If you don't know who this is, you shouldn't be fucking calling. Leave a message after the beep or whatever."

Beeeep!

"Jay, it's me. Can we please talk? You can't ignore me forever. I want us to fix this. I—" You swallow hard. "I miss you."

You sigh, rubbing your forehead as you think of what to say. You've already left three unanswered messages. There's no more for you to say. You just want things to be fixed.

You want your best friend back.

"Okay. Call me when you can."

You hang up and pocket your phone.

The fight was stupid. Jason doesn't respond well to being pushed, but you pushed him anyway. You wanted to know where he disappeared to at night. You were sick of the secrets, of always feeling like you were three steps behind, left in the dark.

If you really cared about me, you would tell me where you go.

Jason had stilled, expression cold.

I don't owe you anything.

Your voice had turned wobbly then.

Jay, don't I mean anything to you? I want you to trust me, I want this to be a normal friendship!

He'd put on his jacket and collected the few things he left in your apartment.

You're right. You deserve normal.

You haven't spoken since. At first, you thought Jason left for a few hours to cool down. So you gave him space.

But then hours turned to days, and now it's been a full week and a half since you'd fought. Last night, you broke down and cried. This is it. You've lost him for good.

Part of you fears the reality is darker than him just leaving. You've long suspected that whatever Jason goes out to do is probably illegal since he's always out at night.

What if you're called down to the police station to identify a body?

All those things left unsaid. Jason will never know you love him.

Screw this. You're going to his apartment.

It's late. It's really late, and this is actually not the best idea to carry out at eight o'clock at night in Crime Alley. There's a reason Jason always insists on hanging out at your apartment or at a cafe.

A man whistles at you down the street. "Goin' somewhere, girlie?"

This was a bad idea. Jason might be the one who has to ID a body tonight.

You can't remember which of these apartments is his. But you can't call him. He can't know you're here, not yet.

"You shouldn't be here, lady!" a kid shouts at you from a fire escape. "He don't like new people on his turf!"

You don't take the time to figure out who the kid means. Crime Alley is known for, well, crime. The sooner you can locate Jason's apartment, the better.

A group of men light cigarettes down the road. You pause and turn around. In the process, you stumble over a garbage can.

That instantly draws their attention.

"Well, what have we here?" one jeers. "You lost, sweetie?"

You run.

You don't care if it makes you look afraid—you are afraid, and you're beyond caring. You shouldn't have come here.

You turn abruptly. You have no idea where you're going, but maybe if you act like you do, you'll throw them off. You take another turn, then another, and you look behind you to check if—

Wham!

You crash into a body. A muscled body, one that forces you backwards.

White, glowing eyes that smolder inside a red helmet meet your own.

Jason's never warned you about the Red Hood. He just tells you to stay away from the area altogether. You don't really need to be warned about Hood anyway. You know what he's about. You know you've probably just sealed your fate tonight.

"What the fuck?" he asks, modulated voice rough.

"I'm sorry," you babble. "Please don't hurt m—"

Gunshots ring out, and you realize you've just stumbled into an active gunfight. With Red Hood.

Fuck your luck.

The gunmen have spotted you, and they take great pleasure in using you as a distraction; they fire at you instead of Hood.

He shields you with his body, blocking the bullets. It works until a flash grenade is thrown, and you're separated from Hood, ears ringing. You hit the ground hard from the impact, scraping your hands and arms.

Someone's arm wraps around your neck, and you're suddenly dragged backward. You scream, scratching at the arm, and a fist thumps your head. You blink at the pain, too dazed to keep fighting.

"We had a deal, Hood!" your captor shouts, arm tightening around your neck. "Let us go or she dies!"

"Negation's over," Red Hood snarls, and shoots all four men.

You cry as the shot echoes too close to your face and for a moment, you fear you've been shot too. The now dead man slips off of you, collapsing in a heap on the ground.

Your ankle protests when you step on it. In the chaos of the fight, you hadn't realized you sprained it. You trip and fall on your butt, scrambling away from the pooling blood.

"What are you doing here?" Hood growls at you, stalking closer.

You start to cry, edging backward.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your fight, please d-don't kill me—"

You press down hard on your wrist and that hurts more than your ankle. You cry harder at the pain, grabbing your wrist.

Red Hood gets closer, and you try to scramble away with one arm and one leg. He kneels down and holds your good arm in place so you can't move.

"I'm sorry!" you say again, tears thick on your lashes.

"Fuck," Hood says roughly, and unlocks his helmet.

Your eyes widen as he pulls it off.

"J—"

"I told you to never come to this area, and you come alone, in the fucking dark, without a weapon? What the hell is wrong with you?" Jason snarls.

"Please don't yell at me," you whisper, covering your face with your hands.

You're shaking, adrenaline turning your stomach. A moment later, you throw up.

"Shit," Jason says and puts a hand on your stomach to help you sit back up. "Shit, I'm an asshole. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

"I thought you died," you say, daring to look at him. "You weren't answering my calls, and you only go out at night. I thought..."

Jason immediately looks avalanched by guilt. He cradles you to his chest.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. I should've—I thought it would be better, leaving."

"I didn't want you to leave," you cry, arms curling around his neck. "I love you so much, Jay. I was so scared. Don't leave me again."

Jason's breath hitches. You freeze, suddenly sure you've screwed it all up.

"Jay—"

"Y'love me?" he asks, cupping your cheek.

You nod emphatically.

"Even though I'm..." He gestures to the helmet.

"I'm just happy you're alive," you say. "I missed you so much, Jason."

His arms tighten around you. "God, I missed you too, baby. I was going crazy not talking to you. I'm sorry I ignored you. Wasn't right of me. But don't ever do this again, okay? If I hadn't been here—"

He takes a shuddering breath and kisses your neck. You nod against his shoulder.

"I promise. Just don't shut me out again, please."

Jason's quiet for a moment. You can feel him thinking.

"This isn't gonna be normal," he says. "If-if we do this. This is part of me. Who I am."

"I don't care," you say. "I love you, Jay. Every part. Whatever that entails."

[normal-internet-user]

Hii! How are you?

I was hoping you could do a one shot or hcs for a platonic/sibling PJO thing with Percy. I was thinking this kid shows up at camp-half-blood (their age being like 11-13) and being like a carbon copy of Percy and everyone notices except for him. They become pretty close and during a capture the flag game the Reader gets claimed by Poseidon, and Percy is just in shock like: 😲 holy moly

I think it would be really cute and I love big bro Percy

The reader is gender neutral

This is completely /nf and feel free to delete it if you don't want to! Thank you so much! Remember to drink water and take care of yourself!

-Axel <3

Ahhh this is actually such a cute IDEA-

Percy With a Child Of Poseidon Reader...

When you showed up to camp, no one really thought much of it.

The Titan war was over, demi-gods were showing up left and right, getting claimed along the way.

The thing that was weird was your lack of the latter.

Weeks after you arrived you were still unclaimed, with no change in sight.

It frustrated Percy because the gods had literally JUST promised not to leave any kids unclaimed.

As a result, he decided to spend time with you, just because he noticed you were feeling slightly put out at your lack of a godly parent.

Percy seemed to be the only one who hadn't noticed that the two of you next to each other was like looking back and forth between a mirror of features.

Everyone else did though.

Annabeth really did try to just- nudge him in the direction that MAYBE POSSIBLY-

But no, Percy was as oblivious as a blind cat after you moved the furniture.

Honestly he liked hanging out with you.

It made him feel good to know he was keeping you occupied instead of thinking about not being claimed.

He felt like an older brother ironically enough.

He had you sit with him during meals, and during activities he was with the Hermes cabin most of the time to help you.

Your very first capture the flag was exciting for him,

Him helping you put on your armor before plopping am oversized helmet on your head was like a mother watching their watching their child ride a bike for the first time.

He was so proud!

Sure you tripped over yourself and fell on your face, but that's okay! Everyone stumbles sometimes!

You're doing great!

Honestly, it was his fault for not helping you tie your shoes.

It was safe to say, the two of you had sufficiently bonded.

Which must have been the reason Poseidon decided to claim you now of all times.

He must really like capture the flag if that's how he claimed both his kids.

Percy was floored, and incredibly confused.

Everyone else was more or less like, "yeah saw that one coming." and you were trying to look up at the floating trident over your head through your helmet.

Percy feeling a whirlwind of emotions.

Confusion, excitment, slight frustration- but mostly excitement.

He was confused as to how as a child of Poseidon you'd managed to stay alive this long.

Unless your mortal parent had also kept a Gabe around to hide your demigod smell.

The thought made him wince.

He was practically vibrating when he showed you around Cabin 3.

You'd seen it before, sure, but now it was your cabin as much as his.

He wouldn't be sleeping alone anymore and he was exstatic about it.

And he can't wait to introduce you to Tyson too.

And his mom, oh she's gonna love you.

Especially if your mortal parent isn't in the picture either by choice or tradgedy.

Percy was gonna be the best big brother ever, it was his job to protect you now, so he would.

Ta-da! This is legit, the first thing I have posted in FOREVER holy shit, it felt SO good to write this out, like-

Anyway, all done! Here you go, I wanted to keep going but I figured it was long enough lol

[etherealising]

🍑: i saw u have nathan scott as one of ur characters ur intrigued to write for and me as a oth!stan had to ask for a blurb for him,, i can’t rlly think of an idea maybe like a first i love you!or some angst lol idk like an argument 😪

i could hold you forever

a/n: bestie, bestie, bestie, my seasonal rewatch of OTH has pulled me out of writing retirement lol. no but i’ve been binge watching and then i remembered your request and i just got so inspired!!! i hope you love this as much as i loved writing this, i def wrote this for the two of us cause idk any other nathan scott girlies so sad lol 💕 also now that i think about it this is giving very much that clay and quinn arc from the later seasons lol

warning(s): r.e.m infidelity (lol) | angst | hospitals | minimally edited |

wc: 2.2k

The silver of sunlight irritated him as he lay in bed, the curtains were not pulled tight enough, and even if they were it wouldn’t matter anyway the sheer white curtains were more for decoration than practical use. His eyes opened with a sigh, squinting at first before blinking the ceiling into focus, hands moving to swipe the sleep from his eyes. There was no point in laying there any longer, he knew he wouldn’t find sleep again.

He stood up allowing one big stretch, his movement stopping as he spotted a figure on the deck, back to him as they stared out at the beach. Doing his best to be quiet he made to move outside his body on autopilot once he stepped over the threshold, arms automatically wrapping around the waist of the person standing before him.

It was natural the way you relaxed back into his chest, hands gripping the mug in your hand as you stared out at the waves cresting against the sand. You allowed your head to fall back against him relishing in the safety that his arms brought you.

“You missed the sunrise.” The sound of your voice was soft as it reached him, the cadence of it caressed his ear canals like that of a symphony.

A noncommittal hum left his lips before he bowed his head allowing it to find purchase on your shoulder placing light kisses on the exposed skin of your neck, a smile stretching his lips at the quiet giggles escaping you.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He felt your shoulders lift in a shrug, one of your fingers tracing the rim of your mug.

He watched you for a moment with an unnameable feeling sparking in his chest as he leaned down to press a loving kiss onto the crown of your head, his hands moving from your waist to your forearms to spin you around in his grip. One hand reached out to grab the cup from your hands and set it atop the wood of the deck before grabbing your hands to wrap around his neck, his own falling back to your waist.

You smiled up at him, your grin doing little to contain the happiness coursing through you as your eyes darted around tracing the roadmap of his face, fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You always look so calm when you sleep,” your voice trailed off as one of your hands moved to cup his cheek. “I just wanted to remember you like that before we leave.”

Nathan turned his head, his soft lips grazed across the pressure point on your wrist before dropping his forehead against yours. His eyes instinctively closed as the two of you stood on the deck the breeze wafting off the ocean and whipped around the two of you. You stood in each other's embrace just relishing in the safety the two of you brought each other.

The Scott beach house was filled with laughter and music as you and Nathan moved around the kitchen the two of you attempting to cook a late breakfast, far more goofing around going on than any actual cooking. Nathan profusely apologized every time he flipped a pancake too early, the two of you finding joy in the simplest of things.

Upon his relegation to chopping the fresh fruit the two of you picked up from the farmer’s market, he found that the majority of his energy was spent watching you dance around the kitchen as opposed to actually doing the task he was given.

No matter how long the two of you had been together he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you had chosen him, chosen to spend these past couple of years growing and learning with him. Oftentimes he found himself reminiscing on the first time the two of you met in the art studio junior year, how long it took the two of you to warm up with each other even though you’d been subjected to a yearlong partnered project. The relationship between the two of you was slow growing, neither of you particularly happy with the partnership until it blossomed into a friendship and then something more he hadn’t even realized he was silently yearning for.

The two of you didn’t get time like this together often anymore with you at Juilliard and his hectic basketball schedule at Duke, it was either emailing back and forth or long-distance phone calls and even being able to hear each other's voices more than once a month were few and far between considering how high it ran up the phone bills. It was harder than he thought it would be, his mind always racing back to that night years ago when he dismissed your concerns trying to convince you how easy things would be. The longer he sat there thinking about it the more he was starting to understand he said all those things to convince himself more than you.

He remembered how softly you spoke to him, the way you tried to get him to understand just how drastically your lives would change once college hit. The way you subtly tried to talk him into calling it quits, not that either of you wanted to, but you knew what came with athletic stardom in college and although it initiated a days-long argument between the two of you he’d finally come around to understand just how selfless you were being by offering to give up the happiness you’d found in him so he could chase his dreams uninhibited.

Nathan was pulled from his reverie as you approached him, your hand stealing a banana off the cutting board before you sat down on his lap, arms wrapping around his neck as he found your waist basketball-calloused fingers tracing small patterns through the thin fabric of your shirt.

“Wasn’t aware cutting fruit took so much brain power.” Nathan furrowed his brows at your words, one side of his lips tugging up in amusement as he allowed you to feed him a blueberry. “You’ve been focusing pretty hard, I’ve been calling you for minutes.”

“Just lost in thought is all.” You nodded eyes wide as you encouraged him to continue, the gesture ignored as his eyes languidly gazed across your face bookmarking all of his favorite little traits that made you…you.

The kitchen was silent as you watched him watch you, getting lost in the abyss of his blue eyes doing your best not to shy away from his intense gaze. “When you look at me…like this,” your hand moved up fingertips gently caressing the beauty mark under his eye. “It's almost like the love I have for you overwhelms me.” The words were whispered through your lips as your eyes searched between his.

Nathan’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, eyes never leaving yours as he slowly, almost hesitantly leaned in. His forehead pressing against yours breakfast long forgotten as the two of you basked in this moment, he leaned forward first lips delicately tracing along yours before hungrily pressing against your. Your lips slotted against his almost perfectly the softness of them singing to his soul, each moment of his lips against yours was deliberate; his hand moved to the back of your head to press you further into him although there was little to no space.

The movement of your lips was simultaneous as Nathan’s tongue softly traced across your bottom lip, you parted them for him allowing the lasting taste of blueberries on his tongue to lavish yours and gently sucking on the appendage any chance he’d given you.

Nathan was sure the two of you shared dozens of kisses before, but he couldn’t help but feel like he released years of pent-up yearning onto you the moment his bottom lip first caressed yours. If oxygen wasn’t a factor he would’ve held you there against him for eternity just relishing in how it felt to physically connect with you in this moment.

You began to pull away eyes hooded as you watched Nathan’s mouth chase yours, before giving into him your lips pliant against his once more, your tongue gently slipping into his mouth this time, the blunt edge of his nails digging into the skin of your neck. Kissing you was something Nathan didn’t think he’d ever get used to, the calmness your presence brought him was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, a part of him afraid to never experience all the ways you made him love you if he were to ruin this.

Whether it was minutes or hours of your lips pressed together and your tongues enjoying the warmth of the other, the two of you finally pulled apart a string of saliva connecting the two of you where your mouths once met, the skin of your foreheads finding solace in each other.

The syllables of your name left Nathan’s lips so quietly you almost didn’t hear him, both of his hands now holding your face, his grip not too harsh but just tight enough to let you know he had no intentions of letting you go.

“I love you.” Nathan’s eyes were wide as he searched yours, watching as they lit up before dimming just slightly, your smile faltering only moments after.

He watched on in confusion as your eyes closed almost painfully, a heavy sigh escaping you before you pulled your head back looking into his eyes once more before leaning forward and planting a lingering kiss on his forehead.

A small sad smile graced your lips as your eyes darted around his face, hand still pressed against his cheek as your thumb caressed back and forth across his skin. “Nathan,” he watched you nervously as you paused. “You have to wake up.”

Nathan’s frown deepened as his eyes flashed across your face, whatever joke you thought you were playing on him wasn’t the least bit funny. “What the hell are you talking about?” The frustration in his voice was tantamount as he blinked at you.

He watched on in a panicked stupor as you rose from his lap, every attempt he made at grabbing you was feeble, his fingers somehow slipping through you although you were right in front of him. His confusion increased as he watched you lean in before pressing a lingering kiss against the top of his head, the fact that you were able to touch him sent his panic to the edge as he continued trying to touch you, your wrist, the material of your shirt but none of it mattered as you rose to your full height taking a few small steps back at a time.

“I love you too Nathan. But you need to wake up, we’re all worried about you.” The smile on your lips felt like it would forever be imprinted on his mind as he watched you turn on your heel and walk away, not once looking back at him.

Nathan’s confusion was at an all-time high as he fervently pushed himself out of the chair, bare feet padding across the hardwood as he ran through the beach house in search of you. There was no trace of you, every room he checked remained empty no matter how many times he retraced his steps to double-check them.

His heart raced in his chest as he found himself back at square one in the kitchen, frustrated tears surfacing in his eyes as he looked around, all that was left of you was the stack of pancakes you’d made. Not even the lingering trace of your scent left behind to comfort him.

A hoarse groan escaped Nathan’s mouth as the stitches in his abdomen pulled taut. He did his best to maneuver to a comfortable position in the lumpy hospital bed, doing more bad than good as he felt the aches and pains begin to shoot through his body. Rustling in the chair by his bed caused him to open his eyes, the sight of his mom awkwardly asleep in the uncomfortable hospital chair elicited an exhausted sigh from him.

As Nathan groggily readjusted to the real world everything began to slowly come back to him, the accident, the edges of an initial dream he could hardly remember, and then the sight of you looking into his eyes as though he was the only person worthy of your time. A sight he would wish to remember forever.

But the truth of the matter was that the two of you weren’t in college yet, or spending a romantic spring break week at his parent’s beach house. And if the gold band fit snugly around his ring finger was any indication of this life being different from the life he led while sleeping, he would bet anything your hand wasn’t adorned with a matching band.

And that you certainly weren’t the person he should’ve been dreaming about a future with.

a/n: i’m starting a nathan scott series because of this bouta start writing things for fun atp. this is inspired by nathan’s hospital dreams in s2e20 please enjoy 🫶🏽

[vidavalor]

I think you're the fifth blogger I've seen mention Shax's thing for Crowley... I still can't see it even though I really want to 'cause I think it's hilarious... send help... 🤣🥲😔

I can try lol. Chocolate cake? *slices*

More fun with Shax and Crowley under the cut. We're also going to look at part of Gabriel & Sandalphon's visit to the bookshop in S1 for some bonus fun since it fit in here as it's a parallel scene.

TW: Brief mention of Sandalphon and his homophobia.

For the most part, Shax isn't really in love with Crowley... she's just got a Mr. Brown-level pash on the Crowley that Crowley projects. While Aziraphale hides that he's an angel from the human world so Mr. Brown only believes him to be human, Crowley hides the extent to which he's human and living like one from the demons in Hell. As a result, the demon pursuing him has got exactly one thing correct about Crowley-- that he's hot lol-- but Shax's opinions as to why only partially overlap with ours and Aziraphale's because Shax believes Crowley's big reputation. She doesn't know what we know about him or see him the way we do. Like Mr. Brown with Aziraphale, she exists in part to highlight how insular Crowley & Aziraphale's world of their life together is and how much they have to playact in their respective worlds to keep that secret life they have with one another private and intact.

Shax is a demon who loves being a demon. That's what makes her crazy to us. Most of the other demons we've met are just miserable, even if they're playing along, but Shax is a real go-getter. She's ambitious and she lives to serve their master Satan. She wants to be good at being a demon and she's in love with *Crowley* lol. To us, this seems bananas because ain't no demon ever hated being a demon more than Anthony Jemimah Crowley... but it's proof positive of how decent a job Crowley has been doing at projecting an air of general demonicness for the last six thousand years.

Crowley has been a prince of Hell forever. He's gotten the top jobs-- the stuff of Shax's dreams, really-- and was a particular favorite of Satan, whom Shax worships. He was basically Hell's resident rock star, breezing in every few months to give a demonic presentation and shoot the shit in Lord Beezlebub's office for a half-hour before taking off for Earth again. If you were Shax, spending literally *thousands of years* in that overstuffed, dark, actual hell hole, Crowley showing up must have been like a visit from sexy Santa Claus. Shax is one of those Effort-making demons and most of the demons in Hell are more terrifying than attractive, ok?... even if you find terrifying attractive, like Shax sorta does or at least thinks she ought to.

Who's going to light your fire down there? Hastur? He'd *literally* light you on fire....

We've seen Shax have to deal with misogyny in the workplace (ugh Demon Josh) and you know she never got any of that shit from Crowley. She probably mostly got a "Shaaaaax! How's it hangin'?" from Disco Tony, who was thrilled to have remembered her name this time. Shax was playing it evil demon lady cool on the surface but girl just wants to be first string for the finest demon in Hell and she was swooning internally every time Crowley swooped in to grace Hell with his presence for a hot minute.

There has been suggestion in the series that several demons that we know of from Bible lore are, in Good Omens, all actually Crowley, which furthers this idea of Crowley and his big reputation a bit. The show has actually already done this with a Biblical figure, in that Bildad the Shuite is an actual Biblical character that the show just made be actually the demon Crowley under a different name, so it would make sense that the reason why we haven't seen other famous demons from The Bible in the series are because they're actually Crowley.

One is canon, basically, which is Astaroth/Astoreth, since Crowley was Nanny Astoreth in S1 and I doubt he stole the name from another demon who exists in the GO universe. When Crowley tells Aziraphale he changed his name when they are watching Jesus' crucifixion, Aziraphale first posits two other demons' names and neither of them exist in GO universe to date but both are, lore-wise, powerful: Mephistopheles and Asmodeus. A lot of other great meta has been written about these choices-- in particular, how well Mephistopheles fits Crowley to a tee, which I really, really agree with. You could assume then that the reasons why more audience-known demons like Astoreth and Asmodeus have never shown up in GO-- and we've met the highest-ranking demons already-- is because they actually *have* and they're all just really Crowley.

In demon lore, Astaroth is part of the "evil trinity" with Beezlebub and Lucifer and is a high-ranking demon in Hell... as well as is basically a genderbent serpent goddess with Crowley traits... so safe to say that's one of Crowley's aliases. Crowley has also had his name of "Crowley" for thousands of years by S1 but when he's rolling up in The Bentley in 1.01, Ligur and Hastur clarify what Crowley's "calling himself up here these days", indicating that he might have gone by more names than we might have realized.

Asmodeus, as we all probably know by now, is the demon of lust. A French novel from the 18th century also popularized the idea of Asmodeus as a sort of Cupid, which also goes along with Crowley, who loves love and got genuine joy out of trying to set up Maggie and Nina. So... from Shax's perspective, why *wouldn't* you want Crowley? He's the fine as fuck, Serpent of Eden, legendary prince of fucking lust here lol.

Shax showed up to reclaim his apartment for Hell and you know she expected a scene the likes of which have not been seen on Earth since a post-concert hotel suite occupied by Led Zeppelin lol. She was expecting (fantasizing lol) about having to wade through a rock music blasting, orgiastic drug den to find Asmodeus in his sex dungeon of a bedroom, somewhere in the black silk sheets beneath three playthings.

You know she actually found Crowley, alone, having just finished vacuuming the most fastidiously clean flat this side of Heaven, fully dressed and watching Barefoot Contessa on his massive plasma screen while the only drugs being mixed were special-blend fertilizer for his houseplants. Ina was making Jeffrey red-wine braised short ribs and Crowley didn't say so to Shax, of course, but he's always on the lookout for something his angel might like for dinner. Hang on a second, Shax, gotta save this recipe to my favorites...

At least the black silk sheets were accurate? lol

What probably confuses Shax a little is that she's been meeting up with Crowley and she still wants him and badly, even as it's becoming increasingly clear that he's a bit more complicated than she thought he was. Technically, she should consider him a traitor because of how he betrayed their Master but he's hot, ok, and maybe it's a little sexy to be so bad that you'd defy Satan? (Aziraphale agrees lol.)

Shax has Mr. Brown-level fantasies about where this could go. Crowley was a favorite of Satan's and she can bring him back into the fold. She can heal him. Yeah, this lady demon has gone and got herself one of those 'I can fix him' disaster scenarios. She hates this for her too but she can't help it. He's so sexy. She's been in Hell for a long time. She's sleeping in the bed and showering in the tropical rainforest paradise dream shower of Asmodeus himself, ok?

She's undoubtedly tried to get him to stay. She's so offered for him to live with her in secret and Crowley nearly choked on the air he doesn't need to breathe trying not to laugh at the irony of that one. It's not Shax's fault that he's just not that into her. She's a bad bitch and everything. That's just not his thing. He's just the lonely GI who basically fell asleep during a performance of The Ladies of Camelot. He has always given off the impression that he's into everything there is to sell the whole 'demon of lust' thing but he's really not. Shax doesn't know that, though, because to know that is to know Crowley well and Shax does not.

Does Crowley know that Shax is into him? Yeah, he does.

Shax's thing for him is basically the same thing as when Crowley tries to make a phone call after having taken out the mobile phone network for miles. It's the oh, shit, right, that thing I did that's now fucking up my day in the present... He didn't lead her on specifically as much as he just gave off the vibe in general that he's this debauched, wild, so very wicked demon and, well... if your name is Aziraphale, that's not terribly inaccurate lol... but if it's not, then it's actually not true at all...

...and this is why Shax cannot for the fucking life of her figure out what the deal is with Crowley and this angel.

Yes, Shax is trying to goad Aziraphale into confirming that he has Gabriel in this scene but this scene also comes off as Shax so incredibly done with how jealous she is over this, in her eyes, ridiculous being, and she's bitchy as all fuck about it. There were other ways to crack at Aziraphale than over his relationship with Crowley and she goes at that hard. She calls The Bentley an old piece of junk when she's really clearly calling Aziraphale that and saying that she doesn't know why Crowley hasn't gotten "an upgrade" since, implying that she considers herself just the upgrade Crowley needs. She brings up 1941 via the rumors that she heard "80, 90 years ago" that Crowley and Aziraphale were "an item", which we know are at least partially derived from what happened with Furfur, who his Shax's closest friend and totally has tried to tell her that this thing she has for Crowley is hopeless because he's doing that angel, Shax. (Poor, pining Furfur lol.)

Shax knows somewhere that Furfur is probably correct but she's decided to pretend that it's Furfur's thing for her that could have caused him to misconstrue at least part of it, right, because the demon of lust only having eyes for one being, let alone that being being this angel, is absurd to her (even if she thinks she can tame him lol.)

Aziraphale is an angel, for one thing. The bastards who did this to The Fallen and who cast their Master to Hell. Their sworn, hereditary enemy. It was one thing when maybe the angel was a dalliance. Asmodeus, lonely and bored on Earth, tired of all the sex with the mortals, and so very bad that he could corrupt an angel. That's a little hot, actually, if you're Shax, but it's the fact that that... does not appear to be what this relationship is... that unsettles her.

During S2, Shax learns that Crowley has a permanent invite into and keys to the bookshop and that Aziraphale can drive Crowley's car to an extent that Shax even has to trick him to allow her to enter it. The angel really seems like he might be Crowley's partner, which would mean that this wasn't Crowley fucking an angel on a whim in 1941 but that Hell's wild prince of lust has actually secretly been in a romantic relationship with Aziraphale for at least, to Shax's knowledge, almost a century.

The purported baddest demon that ever demoned, shy of the literal devil, is apparently mad for this fusty angel and Shax just cannot get it, ok?

Crowley is a a broody, black-clad rock star and Aziraphale is this twee little bookselling angel to her. Shax thinks maybe this was all part of Crowley's breakdown or something and she's Mr. Brown so she hasn't given up hope here, not for most of S2, but she's mostly been trying to figure out how to get Crowley's attention and that's the funniest part of her whole pash, imo.

Shax has no idea what Crowley is into. She can't figure this out to save her life.

She has no idea that it's over before it started because she is just not what primes the engine of Crowley's star factory over here. It's not personal. He just doesn't have a shred of sexual interest in her. Gabriel is getting more action from Crowley this season and he tried to murder him lol. Crowley's spent millennia cultivating a persona of a sex god and now he's got to live with it and he's just praying he never finds out anything she's fantasizing about him because he shudders at the thought of whatever she envisions them getting up to.

Look at what Shax is wearing when she comes to Earth to meet with Crowley, for one of the more hilarious things...

In Hell, Shax wears modern clothes. When she comes to Earth to meet Crowley in the year 2023, she wears a vintage-inspired outfit that is spanning the mid-1930s through WW2 in style (the era she knows he was involved with Aziraphale, who is her main point of reference for what attracts Asmodeus over here lol)... and the dress has the biggest damn bow ever seen. You could see that bow from space. It's like she's trying desperately to figure out what turns Crowley on and so far she's come up with well, he drives an old car and he's rolled that angel so he likes... old things... vintage clothes, like the angel's. She's trying to out-bow-tie Aziraphale.

Now that Shax can spend time with Crowley alone and the possibility of seducing him is ever-present (lolololol), she's spending time trying to figure out what turns on the prince of lust. She's trying to get Crowley's demonically lustful attention and she's reduced to bow ties, okay, take pity on her... she's just like I don't know what his deal with these are, exactly, as it seems kind of specific... but he can unwrap me anytime if that's his thing...

Then, there's that she's sitting too close to him on the park bench and raking her eyes over him while he's sprawling on it. He's not sprawling in a way meant to be enticing. He's actually mid-existential crisis here but that's fine by Shax. She likes 'em a little dark.

My favorite, though, is a scene that actually parallels S1 in a hilarious way and that's from the hot water boiler scene in the other meta that prompted the ask here but isn't a bit that I mentioned in that one.

As Crowley goes back into the bookshop (and he'd never been happier to be on the other side of that threshold in his life lol), Shax is then as physically close to him as she's ever been. If you notice, she actually inhales twice. The first is a regular breath-- which demons don't technically need to take but yeah lol-- and her expression is all oh Satan, he smells amazing and then she straight up sniffs the air as he opens the door. Girl is huffing her fill over here for those shower fantasies for months to come lol. Crowley knows it as his eyebrows are in his hair as he's turning back around like he's all did she seriously just *sniff* me? ugh...

Shax knows Crowley saw her (honestly, probably also *heard* her... Shax, love, a little subtlety wouldn't kill you...) so she covers it up by pretending like she smelled Gabriel in the bookshop. You smelled the archangel in there, huh, Shax? When you can't get through the door? When Gabriel is the same species as Aziraphale, whose bookshop this is, so this can't be some kind of angel-scent you're claiming you noticed here? lol This then parallels and adds to this Sandalphon scene in S1:

I know there's some debate about if there's such thing as an angelic or a demonic smell but I've actually always taken it to be that there isn't. It would seem to me that it would be hard for them to blend in on Earth if there was and if the demonic one was something off-putting to humans, at least. I think most of us, though, do believe that the "evil" Sandalphon is smelling in the backroom is Crowley but considering that the comment comes from Sandalphon, who is introduced to us with reference to his smiting of people in Sodom and Gomorrah, it honestly just comes off that Sandalphon is a raging homophobe and I've actually always taken that as the reason why Gabriel is here in this scene in the first place.

Absolutely nothing happens in this scene. It's a routine checkup. What is the Supreme Archangel of Heaven doing there? Why is he blowing so much smoke up Sandalphon's ass the whole time? It's kind of like he saw that Michael or someone had assigned Sandalphon to do a checkup of sorts on Aziraphale-- or Sandalphon had assigned himself-- and Gabriel pretended that he wanted to see in person how "the great Sandalphon" worked so that he could tag along and make sure that Sandalphon didn't bother Aziraphale. We also learn that Aziraphale hasn't seen Sandalphon in a long time and I'd bet that Gabriel is responsible for that. Gabriel's 'whatever, idgaf' response to Aziraphale's Jeffrey Archer books comment is so... Gabriel hadn't the first clue who Jeffrey Archer is or why his books would be evil lol. He could have easily further encouraged Sandalphon's pursuit of the "evil" scent. He didn't because he could care less what Aziraphale does in the backroom of his bookshop. If anything, he's jealous of him for having found a way to have some freedom and privacy. Gabriel is queer-- he is like Aziraphale. He's just closeted in S1. He's looking out for Aziraphale here by using his power to shut down Sandalphon and then "you can't have a war without war omg wow you are a poet!" him out of there as fast as is possible. If there truly was an 'evil'/'demonic' smell, Gabriel should have been able to smell it, too, and he doesn't. If he did, he wouldn't have been able to subtly shut down Sandalphon the way he did.

So, Sandalphon isn't smelling a demon. He's smelling another man. The "evil" is that Sandalphon can smell remnants of another cologne that isn't Aziraphale's in the backroom of Aziraphale's bookshop and Sandalphon is a homophobe, so he's implying that Aziraphale having sex and with a man is 'evil', even if there's no direct evidence here of that, just the implication of it.

This then would mean that Shax can't actually smell Gabriel in the bookshop in S2. Like Sandalphon, she's pretending to have a supernatural sense of scent but she's really just smelling Crowley. While Sandalphon was repulsed by the idea of Aziraphale's bookshop backroom having the scent of a man, Shax is just inhaling that same being's scent because omfg. so. good....

...something she can't stand that she has in common with that bastard angel, Aziraphale, who is actually allowed to breathe Crowley in anytime he wants... it's just ridiculous to her. Why the fuck does that beige bookseller get to have the sex god of Shax's dreams in his bed and she doesn't? What could Crowley possibly find attractive about him? That she doesn't know and can't really figure it out shows how little she really knows Crowley and also how little imagination she really has.

[hearteyesforjoel]

Old Man

okay okay, we’re FINALLY here, it’s finally done. i’ve had this idea stuck in my head for forever, it’s based on a dream i actually had, go figure lol. enjoy, first fic i’ve written in literal years <3

word count: 1280

jackson!joel x reader

warnings: tbh not much, a creep, heavy kissing, cheeky joel.

Content. If there was one word to describe how you felt at the moment, it would be just that. The radio playing some old country song you couldn’t be bothered with to remember playing softly in the background, not overpowered by the light chatter of the Jackson patrons. It was a quiet night for the Tipsy Bison. It had been a pretty uneventful day of patrol, the only thing keeping you going from lookout to lookout being the promise Joel made that morning before you both left the gated community.

“Sweetheart, we gotta get going for the day”, his voice still raspy with sleep as you both enjoy the comfort and warmth provided by the fluffy duvet. Your head rising and falling on his chest with each breath he took. Through the curtains you could see a peak of sunlight, taunting you to start your day.

You pout slightly, “But I love seeing you like this; so relaxed and cozy. Maybe Tommy can find someone to fill in for us? I know, tell him we came down with a cold?”

He snorted, “Yeah right. The last time we used that excuse, he saw all of those lovely marks you left on me.” Joel smirks as he recalls the memory.

“Well, I’ll just have to hide those marks this time around”, you say as you grin up at him, sliding your hand up his neck and to his scalp, pulling on his hair lightly.

Joel groans, a devilish look flashes in his eyes as he tightens his grip around you. He hums, “How about I make you a deal? If you can behave yourself today during patrol, I’ll take you out tonight. How’s that sound darlin’?”

You raise your eyebrows, “Joel Miller wants a night out on the town with me? Feel like I just won the lottery”, you tease with a smile.

Joel grins a shit-eating grin and pulls you closer. “Don’t push your luck sweetheart”, he says as he places small pecks from your temple to your neck, nibbling along the way.

You’d gotten to the bar before Joel, he mentioned having to stop by Tommy’s. Something about a new area of Wyoming to patrol. You honestly weren’t listening to the details, too excited for the night to come. You hum along to the old country song playing in the background, sipping on a glass of whiskey. The burn providing a warm comfort to the cool breeze from the fall air outside.

“Hey, what are you doing here all alone?”, you heard a familiar voice from behind you as you sat at the bar. When you turn to look over your shoulder, you saw that the voice came from one of the stable hands. Jake? James? Maybe Jason?

“Oh, no, I’m just waiting for someone”, you said with a small, polite smile. If you’re being honest, the guy always gave you weird vibes. Sometimes as you would leave for patrol on your horse, you could feel a lingering stare, leaving the hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention.

As you focused your attention back to your glass, you saw the barstool next you pull out, your pest of the night sitting down next you at the bar.

“Well in that case, I’ll just keep you company until then”, he smirked, looking you up down. There it is, that familiar uncomfortable feeling.

“Ah, no, that’s okay. He should be here any minute, I’ll be fine to wait alone”, you say as you pick at your cuticles, hoping he’ll take the hint. He laughs, resting his arm on the back of your stool.

“Some friend he is. Really, let me get you a drink, sweetheart”, he says, the term of endearment sounding bitter coming out of his mouth.

Before Jake? James? Maybe Jason, can say anything else, you feel a familiar hand rest against waist. “Should I throw your ass out of this bar or do you want to walk out on your own? Think carefully”, Joel nearly snarls as he puts himself between you and the once confident, now tense man.

He raises his hands in surrender, “Hey, man, I didn’t mean any trouble. I’m just, I’m just gonna…”, he slides off the barstool and quickly leaves, tail between his legs.

Joel turns to you, concern all over his face, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay? Did he touch you?”, he quickly scans your form. His big, brown eyes fully of worry.

You grab his bicep, pulling him closer to you. His familiar scent putting you at ease. “I’m fine, I’m just glad you’re finally here”, you say as smile, happy to finally have a relaxing night with the love of your life. Neither of you have had a night to yourselves, usually spending your nights enjoying dinners with Tommy and Maria, movie nights with Ellie. It’s not that you don’t enjoy the company of your family, but sometimes you just want Joel all to yourself.

“I’m sorry it took so long, Tommy found an abandoned town a few miles out, thinks there could be supplies worth the trip. We’re gonna head out first thing in the mornin’, there’s an old clinic we need to check out. Could be medicine there.”

You sigh, knowing you’ll both have to cut the night short. Defeated, you stand up from your barstool, grabbing his bicep to lead Joel out of the quaint bar. “Well, come on old man, you need your beauty sleep if you want to get up bright and early”, you tease him, sliding your hand to the back pocket of his jeans.

Slowing down his stride, Joel stares into your eyes. His once soft brown eyes, now dark, a devious glint in his eyes. Without hesitation, he grabs your arm and pulls you to the side of the bar, away from any prying eyes. His actions surprising you.

You inhale sharply, your whole body heating up from just the simple touch on your arm. “Joel? Joel, what are you doing?”.

He quickly pins you against the brick wall behind you, caging you in between his arms. Joel leans in, his lips grazing your neck, his warm breath bringing chills to your skin. You’re breathing heavily at this point, your insides practically begging for him to do something, anything to alleviate the burning desire within you. Joel begins to coast his lips up from your neck, your jaw, and finally hovering over your own. With heavy eyes, you both stare into one another’s eyes, waiting for the other to break.

You can’t take it anymore. Finally, you give in and roughly bring your lips together, his chapped, yours soft. Quickly, you bring one hand to comb through his dark hair, the other to rest against the back of his neck. His own grabbing at your waist, placing one hand to your neck, just under your jaw. Softly, you whimper against him as he bites your bottom lip, allowing him to take control of the kiss, his mouth exploring your own. You sigh heavily, the hand in his hair pulling on his roots. He groans, pulling away from the kiss, both of you gasping for air.

“Where did that come from?”, you whisper, slightly out of breath.

Joel smirks, eyes still heavy and burning with want, “You wanna call me an old man, sweetheart? Let me show you what this old man can do“. He grips your hand, pulling you back onto the street, beginning the short walk back to your shared home.

There it is, that fiery desire that only Joel can ignite.

Yeah, you were in for a long night. Maybe you’ll tell Tommy you both caught a cold?

______________________________________________

if you read all the way through this, i love you.

thank you so much for reading, i definitely need to keep writing, ya know, leveling up my skills.

prompts and requests are always open and welcome! xx

[matan4il]

911 ep 706 first watch reactions

Buck and Eddie setting up the bachelor party are so funny. They're married to a degree that the bride and groom can only aspire to one day achieve. And Madney are raising a kid together! Then again, so are Buddie, and have been since day 2... (day 1 is forever Buck ogling Eddie at the station, and Eddie strutting his stuff for him, with Buck's now canonically jealou-traction being the, ummm, lubricant)

Oh, Tommy just arrived, Buck and him have done nothing but hug, and Eddie's already bringing on the jealousy jealou-traction. IDK what is the etiquette about bringing your date to a bachelor party, but what's the rule about bringing your hubby who's jealous of your bf?

Oh, and an extra jab at Buck bringing Tommy officially as his date to the wedding. I love me a jealous Eddie. My dude, your closet is shaking so hard, it's about to push you out of itself if you don't make the move already.

Okay, in all seriousness, Tommy not dressing like the 80's, Buck showing that he really cared about that silly party theme, Eddie rolling with it, the two of them being dressed more as a couple than the actual guys dating, Buddie seeing things so much in the same way (down to both seeing themselves as the same character from Miami Vice) while Buck and Tommy are totally out of sync... I love that Tommy is there to help Buck figure himself out, but also, this is the stuff that will forever keep me shipping Buddie.

I know the flashback is mainly to show that the bachelor party is Buck's idea, and goes against Chim's wishes, but Eddie suggests the couple costume? And Buck was so readily on board? Even when he knew Tommy would also be invited? This is my house catching fire, while I sit here, mumbling to myself how fine it all is...

Okay, everyone leaving the bachelor party, even the guy Buck is dating, while Eddie stays, sure is something. And by "something" I mean "a couple." That's a couple. That's Buck's partner in everything, even dumb ass 80's costumes and failed bachelor parties, he's the one who jumps in whatever stupid plan Buck comes up with, and stays to deal with the mess.

LOL And then we got some REAL mess. Again, dumb Buck idea, and Eddie just rolling with it. Making it worse even, by suggesting how to take the party (made up of people who don't even know the groom) to Chimney. These two deserve each other. XD

Buck was behind Eddie while his shirt was being torn? Presumably helping with the tearing? That's it, 911 does not want me to make it to the end of the season with my sanity intact. I guess it's good that I'm not even trying...

I'm glad there was a representation of Chim and Kevin, and a Korean tradition, I just hope it was a truthful one. (do we have Korean viewers in our midst to chime in on this?)

Maddie using her 911 skills to find and help Chim is pretty badass (and a nice gender reversal of the 'damsel in distress needing to be saved a sec before her wedding' tale). Love it!

Maddie and Chim looked so happy during their wedding. Honestly, at the end of the day, my little hopelessly romantic heart doesn't need more than that. <3

Awwww, the Buck and Tommy kiss was nice. I think the most important part of it is we got to see Buck for the first time daring to kiss another guy, rather than wait to be kissed. I may bbe a Buddie shipper, but I think this r/s is important to Buck as well, to his ability to find what he wants, to not be scared of it, to not wait for others to want him as was the case with all the women he'd dated, but rather figure out what he wants in a certain moment, and that it's okay for him to go get it.

(I still don't think Tommy is Buck's endgame, though. Much as his probably my fave Buck r/s so far other than Eddie. Tommy not being there for Buck when the bachelor party flunked, him not being there at the wedding itself, to share this significant moment with Buck, being almost incidental to Buck's coming out to his colleagues and parents, other than being a gay that was obviously kissed by Buck just a short while ago... Again, just not the stuff great love stories are made of)

Hen going, "Finally!" to Karen was funny and cute. Everyone (almost) just smiling at Buck's coming out was nice. But the way his mom reacted in particular felt more realistic, and made me wish that at least with his parents, who we know he has a strained r/s with, the should would have allowed this to be more explored. Hopefully in a future ep if not now.

Thank you for reading! If you're looking for more, you can find my s7 reactions tag here, and more of my Buddie meta and content in my pinned post. xoxox

[doodoodinklefart]

okAYYYY so ive been planning this au for literally forever and i couldnt get white diamond satoru and black sapphire suguru out of my head... ive seen a couple other hnk x jjk aus floating around but i wanted to take a crack at it!! i'll just explain these three + the setting for now cuz theres a bunch of other shit brewing in my head LOLOL honestly hnk and jjk are pretty different themes-wise i feel so i couldnt rlly help changing a lot abt the world LMAO

in this au its not just a couple gems in the school, there's a bit more of a society and structure outside of it. there are still the three major "clans" though maybe more like major cliffs?? lol?? that the gems are formed in that produce a much higher frequency of strong, high quality gems. i imagine that before the idea of working together (modern jujutsu society) had come about, gems fought to have control of these spots to assure that they would have those to protect them from lunarians (aka curses we're playing a bit fast and loose here). while there were many attempts to merge the clans, the fighting was more a waste of time if anything, so they stayed separate. jujutsu high in this au would probably just be the school, a set of gems that are trained to always be ready to dispatch lunarians and protect tengen (who is the prayer machine here), who has basically been dormant.

and THATS where we get to white diamond. i wanna say while diamonds are p common irl, its rare here for there to be a fully formed diamond lustrous that actually has inclusions. while there have been extremely strong lustrous born from the gojo cliff, white diamond is the first diamond in several centuries, filling a vacancy after others had been taken away to the moon. not only that, he's got special eyes too!! im thinking he can see sunspots from far away, or maybe can tell artificial gems from real ones, like being able to see their inclusions or something. probably both!! either way he has to wear special blackout glasses during the day. his eyes are really reflective so he can work at night too, but that often leaves him restless.

white diamond—in his mind at least—is untouchable, and really it may as well be true. due to the combat training that he's gone through and his hardness of 10, he has never sustained so much as a scratch. he had a tendency to break all of his sparring partners back home, and thus he feels he's hit a brick wall with his training, and that the only things that will come close to putting up a challenge are likely lunarians. he doesn't really care much for weaker gems at this point, and is eager to finally fight lunarians for once. eventually, he is sent off to the school to begin what he would call "actually worthwhile" training.

black sapphire, on the other hand, was born practically from nowhere, in a unremarkable place with little more than himself and a few other older gems that were around to help shape him. with a hardness of 9, he was the strongest among them and—after his first dangerous encounter with lunarians—he realized he had an obligation to protect the rest of them. his strength often leaves him feelings alienated, as he normally ends up working alone for fear of other being taken away. i wanna figure out how to incorporate his ct better but for now ill just keep thinking about it. for now, it was probably his strength that got his scouted and sent to the school.

boulder opal, or just opal, is in training as a doctor at the school, and shows extreme promise. her lax attitude reveals none of her medical prowess, especially when it comes to gems with missing pieces. she has a particularly good eye for finding missing shards, or finding pieces that she can replace missing shards with. there's nothing she can do if their inclusions reject the replacement, however. maybe she has a way of resonating with the other's inclusions to speed healing up on bigger points of damage?? idk ill figure it out

ANYWAYYY this is getting super long so i'll end this shortly BUT!!! basically, white diamond, with black sapphire (who he calls saph), and opal are all training under yaga sensei (idk what kind of gem he would be yet LOL). diamond, at first, sees opal and saph as weak, but quickly realizes they have their own feats. saph in particular is the first lustrous that has ever made sparring fun, because while he's less durable his combat skills make up for it tenfold. maybe black sapphire is the first to ever leave a break on white diamond who knows... opal is probably always having to put the two back together. theyve never lost to a lunarian before, and have certainly never come close to being taken to the moon. these two are the strongest together, and each finally feel like they have a place to belong.

alsooo..... they do get a mission to escort a "star plasma vessel" of sorts. tengen slowly erodes over the years and needs a compatible lustrous to replace their missing pieces. boleite (riko) happens to be that gem, and diamond and saph need to escort her.... lmaoaoao now i have to design riko, toji and kuroi...

[montammil]

Forever Be Mine, part 6

This one is pretty relaxed compared to the last few parts lol. Here's the masterlist!

CW: Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mentions of torture/murder, implied noncon, intimate whumper

...

"Felicity? Can I ask you something?"

"Make it quick, I'm a little busy. If you need money, I can send you some later today."

"I'm not Griff. I was wondering if you had any... relationship advice?"

"And you called me out of all people?" Felicity snorted. "I'm too much of a workaholic to even consider love. As long as you haven't been stalking them, I'm sure you'll be fine." Rowan went silent. "Goddammit, Rowan. Again?"

Rowan wouldn't dare tell her he went even farther than just that. "He hates me. What do I do?"

"I don't know the guy, I don't know what he's into. Probably people not creeping on him," she huffed. "Give him something he likes--and not something you like that you want him to like. Not a hundred roses or some expensive brand of wine he's probably never heard of. Treat him like an actual human with thoughts and emotions and not some pampered pet. Just... be normal." There was talking in the background. "I gotta go. I think you'd have more luck asking Griffin about this."

As if, Rowan bitterly thought. Griffin's idea of romance was fast food and video games. "Fine. Talk to you later."

"Don't do anything stupid." And then she hung up.

Rowan sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at his ceiling. This entire time he had been forcing Sawyer to conform to his ideas of romance, so perhaps it was time to take some advice for once. He was desperate. Hopefully after this, Sawyer would see him for the perfect boyfriend he was, and come crawling into his arms with love and devotion.

An idea popped into his head.

Sawyer flinched when the shed door creaked open. Rowan knelt down, draping his large coat over his shivering form. He cut the rope and helped Sawyer into the warm coat.

"Let's get you inside, babydoll. You're ice-cold," Rowan murmured, holding Sawyer's hand and walking him inside the cabin.

Rowan brought him to the bathroom, and to Sawyer's shock, left him alone to his own devices. Sawyer turned on the bathtub's tap, waiting until the water was steaming. He slowly sunk into it. It was heaven compared to the freezing temperature he was kept at in the shed. He sunk lower until only his eyes were peeking over the water level.

Once he was warmed up, his mind wandered to Rowan's behavior. Despite not knowing him for long, he figured the first thing his captor would do would be to ramble and insist on giving him zero personal space.

Did he grow tired of him? Did this mean he'd let him go? Or...

Sawyer shook his head. He tried not to think too hard about it and washed himself as fast as possible. When he was done, he climbed out and dried off, finding a pair of neatly folded clothes on the counter. He put them over his aching limbs, just a normal t-shirt and sweatpants. He exited the bathroom to find Rowan waiting for him, holding a bowl of what he assumed was tomato basil soup.

"How was your bath?" Rowan asked, motioning to the couch. Sawyer obeyed and sat down beside him.

"Nice. Thanks," Sawyer whispered.

"Here. You must be hungry." He took the bowl from Rowan and held it close, letting the heat warm him up. "Eat up." He picked up the spoon and dipped it into the red liquid. The spoon was trembling in his hand.

Rowan didn't miss it, because of course he didn't. "Do you want me to feed you?"

Sawyer shook his head. "No. I got it." He didn't, but there was no way he was going to be coddled even more by his kidnapper. He ignored Rowan's burning gaze on him and he ate the soup in small bites. He couldn't understand Rowan, nor did he really want to. All he could do was keep him happy enough so he didn't end up back in that awful shed. He offered his empty bowl. "Thanks."

He smiled and took it. "You're welcome. Stay right there, I got you a present!"

If he had learnt anything about Rowan these past few weeks, it was that his gifts sucked. Sawyer never wanted to look at expensive jewelry or roses ever again. He wondered what horrible gift he was going to receive now. Probably a collar, at this point.

Rowan came back holding something small in his arms. Sawyer curiously stood up to get a better look at it, just to see a small white cat curled up in his arms. Sawyer froze. Rowan approached him with a huge smile on his face.

"What..." Sawyer could barely speak, his hand reached out to the cat, who happily rubbed his face on his palm. "What did you do?"

"I knew you liked cats, and even though I'm not the most fond of animals, love is about making sacrifices. And before you say anything, I didn't buy him from a breeder." He handed the tiny fluff ball to Sawyer. "He had previous owners who got rid of him because he's deaf, or so that's what the shelter said. He's perfectly healthy."

Sawyer looked at him then at the cat. "You're giving me a cat?"

"Yes! Don't you love him?" Sawyer nodded. "See? I'm a good partner!" Rowan smiled proudly.

If Sawyer weren't so distracted by the cat in his arms, he would've scoffed. Instead, he cradled the furball to his chest. "What's his name?"

"Whatever you want it to be, my love."

He frowned and rubbed a finger between the kitten's eyes. "Casper." He still hated Rowan's guts, and he felt anxious now that a cat was in this fucked up situation, but it was hard to be mad at him right now. He was a sucker for cute things, and this fluffy creature was purring contentedly in his hold. He almost forgot that this whole scenario was forced upon him by Rowan. Almost.

Rowan placed his hands on Sawyer's waist, but didn't push things any further. He leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Do you like him?"

Sawyer didn't want to be too thankful, lest Rowan got ideas that he owed him something. Besides that, he still hated his guts. "Yeah. He's cute." He hugged Casper a little closer to him.

"I knew you'd love him!" Rowan beamed. "Now that I have your approval, I'll get some toys for him. I already got food and a litter box. Anything specific you want for him? I've never owned any animals, so I don't know much about taking care of one." He sheepishly smiled. "Maybe a collar and a bed for him? I'll let you pick them out, and I can pick them up from the store."

"Uh, yeah, a collar, and a bed would be great. Thank you," Sawyer mumbled, still hugging the cat tightly. "And maybe a scratching post."

He didn't like the happy expression on Rowan's face, the bastard didn't deserve to be pleased, but he couldn't help himself when a soft cat was purring in his arms. He always wanted a cat, but due to money being tight, he never wanted to bring another living creature into his shitty living situation.

And even now he didn't, because it was somehow worse... but it'd be nice for someone other than Rowan to keep him company. It was selfish, he knew, but he was so lonely here that he was willing to subject a cat to Rowan.

"What is your ideal date?" Rowan's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Not with you."

"Sawyer," Rowan warned. He placed his hand on Sawyer's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

He sighed. "I dunno. I haven't been on many dates. An aquarium sounds cute, but I know that'd be too public for you, right?" It was meant as a sarcastic jab, but Rowan took it genuine and nodded. Sawyer resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I like ice skating, but I guess that's also not your type of scene. Whatever, doesn't matter anyway. I'm gonna go to bed."

Rowan watched the man walk off with Casper still in his arms. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

...

"What's this?"

"A lake to skate on! I made sure it was thick enough to walk on without breaking. And after this, we can have some hot cocoa and a nice cuddle session by the fire."

"Uh... that's... cool." Sawyer scratched the back of his neck. "I guess. But uh... why?"

"Because you wanted to go ice skating. And since a public skating rink would be trouble, I decided this would do. Again, I made sure it's safe, so don't worry your pretty little head about that." Rowan booped Sawyer's nose. "I ordered us some ice skates too, of course." He grabbed two pairs of black ice skates from the car's trunk. He led him to a log, brushing off the snow, and then gestured for Sawyer to sit.

Sawyer did so, albeit reluctantly. He watched Rowan kneel to slide his shoes off and replace them with the skates. It got harder to resist the urge to kick him when Rowan pressed a kiss to his ankle as he laced up the boots for him.

As Rowan put on his own pair, Sawyer got curious. "Have you ever ice skated before?"

"Well... no, but it can't be that hard, right? How different could it be from roller-skating?" Sawyer chuckled at his ignorance. Oh, he'd have fun watching him tumble around. "I'm excited to try it with you." He pulled Sawyer up, walking awkwardly to the frozen lake. "Just... hold onto me so you don't fall," Rowan advised, intertwining their gloved fingers.

Sawyer didn't know why he didn't pull away. "Alright," he agreed, his other hand clutching onto Rowan's arm.

Rowan stepped onto the ice, wobbling slightly. "Oh, okay, that's a bit harder than I expected." He slid his feet forwards, pulling Sawyer with him. "You're doing okay, right?"

He couldn't help but grin. "Yeah." Rowan looked ridiculous with his lanky limbs sprawled everywhere and his ungraceful movements. It was the funniest thing Sawyer had witnessed in a long while. "Having fun?"

"Oh, yeah, a blast." He slipped and nearly fell, catching himself with his hand on the ground. Sawyer covered his mouth, muffling his laughter. Rowan glared up at him. "Okay, okay, laugh it up. You have a clear advantage over me here." He pushed himself back up to stand. "Help me." Sawyer obliged, extending his hand to Rowan. "How did you even get so good at this?"

Sawyer pulled him up. "Ice skating was a huge hobby of mine when I was a kid. My parents wanted me to do hockey, the more 'manly' sport, but I liked figure skating. They eventually just gave up."

"Do you still ice skate? I don't recall ever seeing you go to any skating rinks..."

Right when Sawyer was starting to relax, he was reminded this man was insane. "I don't. I had to sell my skates when I went broke." He bit his tongue. He hated telling people personal information, let alone people like this. But there wasn't much he could do about it now. He couldn't afford to upset Rowan anymore. He didn't want to be punished again, and he definitely didn't want to be thrown in that godforsaken shed.

He didn't want to see that ever again. Crazy how that was less than a day ago, and now Rowan had the gall to act like none of that happened.

"That's a shame. I bet you looked lovely on the ice." He kissed his forehead. "Well, whenever you like, we always have this area to skate together. At least until it starts melting." Rowan chuckled and moved his legs like a newborn deer attempting to stand. He had fallen again, but he managed to catch himself in time.

A sadistic part of Sawyer sparked whenever he saw Rowan stumble around like an idiot. It felt nice seeing him being the one out of his element, considering everything else he'd put him through. He couldn't help but take enjoyment from the rare opportunity of seeing the usually overly-confident and arrogant Rowan in an uncomfortable position.

Soon enough they both grew tired (aka Rowan was done embarrassing himself) and retreated to the cabin.

Rowan sat Sawyer down and prepared a cup of hot chocolate for him, adding some marshmallows and whipped cream on top. He set it on the coffee table and grabbed a blanket from the couch to drape it over Sawyer. Casper settled on Sawyer's lap and purred loudly, seeking pets.

Sawyer took the mug and blew on it. "Thank you," he mumbled before drinking some of the warm liquid.

"No problem, sweetheart." He sat on the couch next to him and placed his hand on his thigh. Sawyer looked down at it but didn't move away. "How was it?"

"How was what?"

"Our date." Rowan squeezed his leg, thumb rubbing circles on the inside of his thigh. "You didn't say much."

"Well, I was busy laughing at you," Sawyer pointed out, continuing to drink his hot cocoa. He licked away some foam that clung to his lip. Rowan stared at him intently, almost hungrily. "But it was... fine." He paused. "I guess."

"That's it? I expected a little more from you. Especially considering everything I did for you," Rowan scolded, his tone dangerously low. His hand stopped moving and tightened on his leg. Sawyer shivered. "I bought you a fucking cat. I skated with you even though it's freezing out. I cooked your favorite meal. I held back from touching you when I desperately wanted to." He leaned closer. "And I get nothing but a 'fine'?"

"I thought this was to make up for looking me in a damn freezing shed, not to guilt me into kissing your ass," Sawyer replied bluntly.

Rowan scowled. "Don't get snippy with me."

His word choice made Sawyer snort. "Well, sorry I'm feeling 'snippy' after being stalked, kidnapped, branded, and watching you kill a man. Forgive me for not being in a stellar mood." Rowan stood up, and Casper jumped off his lap at the sudden movement. Sawyer realized he made a mistake and was quick to amend it. "I didn't mean it, please don't put me back there."

When Rowan went silent, opting to stare at him, Sawyer realized he wanted him to continue.

"I'm thankful for everything you've done for me... and I loved our date. I'm sorry I'm so nonchalant about everything, I haven't been in a healthy relationship in years. This is just new to me." Sawyer's lip wobbled, only at the thought of being placed in the freezing cold again.

Rowan folded his arms. "I understand that, but I've been so patient with you. I think I deserve something in return, don't I?"

Great, now Sawyer didn't know how to further manipulate himself out of this one. Then, an idea popped in his mind. He dramatically sighed. "I just wished you'd see me for more than sex."

That was all it took for Rowan to fall for his bait. "Sawyer," he began softly, his scowl turning into a concerned frown, "is that all you think I'm after from you?" Sawyer shrugged and averted his eyes, faking embarrassment. Rowan had already fallen for similar acts in the past, but when it came to Sawyer, all logic went out the window. "Oh, honey, that's not true. I don't just want your body, I want everything of yours. Your mind, body, and soul belongs to me, and I want to cherish it all. I don't know why you would ever think so low of me."

Sawyer lowered his head, fighting back a smirk. "Sorry. I'm sorry, it's just hard to believe that sometimes. I'm used to guys being like that."

"I'm not those types of men, my love."

"I know." Rowan was worse. "It's just... that's why I have a hard time showing I'm grateful for things. Because people have done so much for me in the past, just because they wanted a quick fuck." He took joy in seeing how guilty Rowan looked. Good. "So I'm sorry I've been so dismissive. I'll try to be more grateful."

"Oh, sweetheart." Rowan placed a hand on his cheek. "I'll prove it to you. That I'm not like those men. That I truly care about you, not just your body."

Sawyer wasn't buying any of it. But he had Rowan right where he wanted him. Rowan was eating out the palm of his hand, like an eager dog wanting attention. "How?"

"We can cuddle, and watch what ever you want." Rowan grabbed Sawyer's hands, running his thumbs over his knuckles. "I know I can be impatient sometimes when it comes to more... intimate activities, but I'll slow down. Whatever you need. Cuddling you and having your full attention is more than enough for me right now."

"Okay," Sawyer replied simply, making sure not to let his fake shyness slip. He didn't want to oversell this.

Yet the 'for now' didn't go unnoticed. Sawyer had no doubt Rowan would eventually expect more from him again. He just had to hope by then he could manage to escape without incident.

"Then it's a deal!" Rowan beamed. He practically dragged him to the bedroom, tossing Sawyer onto the mattress. "Sorry," Rowan chuckled. Sawyer had to admit, Rowan was incredibly strong, especially for a guy of his build. He easily lifted him and tossed him around like he was light as a feather. Sawyer hoped that wouldn't turn into something disturbing. "Scoot over a bit, I'm going to set up the movie."

Sawyer had to admit, being around Rowan wasn't as insufferable as it was before. Sure, he still despised him, but... when he wanted to, he could be sweet.

Well, as sweet as a manic kidnapper could be.

Rowan let Sawyer choose from the list of movies, to which he settled on a nostalgic 90's film. Rowan wasn't too interested in it, but if it made Sawyer happy, he was glad. He was too busy staring at Sawyer to actually pay attention to the screen. Sawyer was aware of this and refused to give Rowan the satisfaction of him meeting his gaze.

Rowan nuzzled his face into the crook of Sawyer's neck and wrapped an arm around his waist. He peppered kisses along his shoulder and collarbone. Sawyer remained tense under the affectionate touch, not allowing himself to enjoy it even in the slightest.

He tried not to be annoyed with Rowan constantly interrupting his viewing to shower him in attention, but he had a feeling this would happen.

"I'm surprised you're not into this movie," Sawyer muttered. "Do you not like nostalgic things?"

Rowan paused in his ministrations. "Hm? No, I do. I just didn't watch much TV as a child, so I don't know these films. I'm sure it's wonderful." He pressed a kiss to his pulse point. "I'd much rather focus on you anyway."

Sawyer suppressed a sigh of frustration. "Alright then."

Halfway through the movie, Casper hopped on the bed and flopped between Sawyer and Rowan. Sawyer cracked a smile and patted the bed to coax him closer, so he could pet him. Casper purred happily and headbutted Sawyer's hand.

Rowan was less happy. "This is our moment, can't he wait?" he whined.

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "He's a cat, Rowan. He can't see what we're doing. He just wants cuddles."

"So do I!" Rowan exclaimed indignantly.

"You're such a child." Sawyer rolled his eyes, but still scooted closer to Rowan's side, just to shut him up. He leaned against Rowan's chest, keeping a hand on Casper's head to stroke him. He could feel Rowan grinning above him and he repressed the urge to shove him away in disgust. He focused on the screen in front of them, determined to ignore the arms wrapping around him possessively.

It still felt nice to relax for the first time since he had been kidnapped. Not that he was warming up to Rowan, surely not... Sawyer just appreciated having his nerves calmed after that horrible week he endured.

Before the ending credits finished rolling, Sawyer's eyelids grew heavy and he found himself dozing off, head resting against Rowan's chest. He heard Rowan's soft chuckling and a kiss being pressed against his hairline. He grumbled, too tired to care about the intimacy, and just sunk deeper against Rowan's warmth.

...

Taglist: @morning-star-whump

[daleyeahson]

Girl on Film | Perv!Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader: Part 3

Summary: After days of not seeing or hearing anything from Eddie, you finally snap. When you confront him about your feelings, it’s not exactly what he had hoped to hear.

Warnings: angst, cursing, I’m just gonna go ahead and say 18+ minors dni mainly bc of what has happened before and that stuff gets briefly mentioned in here so… yeah lol

Word count: 2.9k

previous part | next part

A/n: I’m sorry this took a little longer than expected to get released! I’ve been a little busy and tbh at first I didn’t know where I wanted this story to go so that also slowed the whole process lol thank you guys for your continued love and support! You have no idea how much it truly means to me.. Enjoy! x

It’s Monday morning and Eddie slowly stirs awake. Stretching as much as he could, he turns his head over to look at the alarm clock. 6:45am. He then turns his head to the opposite side only to be met with the sight of your naked body. Your back facing him and the sheets covering just the lower half of you. Panic sets in before he has a chance to really take in the view. He starts to freak out as his questions from last night enter his mind once again.

He tries to convince himself that he’s just overreacting and that you must’ve genuinely felt the same way he did, right? If you didn’t, why would you do all of that with him? Why would you play along with the whole camcorder situation? He began to think that maybe it was just a spur of the moment thing for you. That maybe you just wanted to have fun with this and not get romantically involved. He also thought of how maybe you’d wake up and regret this whole weekend and then things would be forever changed between the two of you.

With every question of “what if?” or “why?” that crossed his mind, he knew one thing for sure. He did not want to stick around and find out. He couldn’t handle the possibility of rejection or the idea of losing you as his best friend. He needed to think things over before diving into that conversation with you. So, without a moments notice, Eddie does what he does best. He runs.

Or at least he tries too. He gently gets out of the bed, trying his best not to wake you and rushes to go take a quick shower. While he’s in the bathroom, you wake up to the sound of the water running. Still a little bit groggy, you slip on another oversized t-shirt since the one you had on yesterday was now torn in two thanks to a certain someone. You decided against wearing pants, not having the energy this morning to deal with putting them on. Plus, at this point, Eddie has seen you in a lot less, so you figured he wouldn’t have a problem with it.

You make your way to the kitchen in desperate need of something to drink. You pour yourself a glass of water and casually sip on it while having your back leaned against the counter. You hear the shower turn off and soon afterwards, the bathroom door opens. In such a hurry to leave, Eddie doesn’t even notice that you’re standing in the kitchen.

“Mornin’ Eddie, sleep well?”

“Jesus Christ!” He jumps at the sound of your voice. “I didn’t know you were awake,” he gives a nervous chuckle, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I haven’t been up for long.. What’s got you up and ready to go out the door so early?”

“Uh…” Eddie pauses for a second, trying to find what to say. He doesn’t want to bring up the real reason he’s leaving, so he says the next thing that comes to mind. “School! Gotta head off the school, ya know, don’t wanna be late.”

You look at him and say with a raised eyebrow, “Since when did you, Eddie Munson, care about going to school, let alone getting there on time?”

He smiles softly at your comment, knowing that you had a good point.

“I figured dealing with the third go around of this shit, I might actually want to try for once before I end up graduating with Henderson’s class.”

You laugh. You know you’d never let that happen, but it was funny to picture him and Dustin posing for a photo together with their cap and gowns on holding their diplomas.

“Well before you go, do you want some breakfast? I can fix you something real quick. I know the stuff they serve in the cafeteria isn’t the best.”

Growing more anxious the longer he stands there, Eddie shakes his head, “N-no thanks. As much as I would love to, I don’t have the time. Still have to run home and change out of this,” he gestures to his sweats, “and you know how long it takes to get my whole get up on. At this rate, I’ll be lucky if I get there before the first bell rings.”

You try not to show a look of disappointment on your face. You wished he would stay a little longer, but you understood his reasons. If you were in his shoes, you’d want to do everything possible to make sure you didn’t have to repeat your senior year again too.

“Oh, well, I’ve got to start getting ready for work in a few anyway, so no biggie. Give me a call though afterwards, yeah? I’ll be back home this evening, probably around six.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just gives you a slight nod and walks out the door. Driving off in his van, he makes his way back home. Once there, he heads to his room and spots the camcorder still sitting in the same spot he left it. He really did plan on going to school, but after seeing that and being reminded once again how all of this got started, he decided to stay home. There was no way he could focus on any of his classes after that.

You started getting ready for work not long after Eddie left. Taking a quick shower yourself and changing into your uniform. You pulled your hair back to keep it out of your face and applied a light, natural makeup look. You weren’t one to really wear makeup to begin with, but being a waitress, it seemed to help get you better tips so you didn’t mind having to wear it while you were at work.

You worked at a small diner right on the edge of town, only a 15 minute drive from your place. It wasn’t the best job, but it paid the bills. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy it, you loved your coworkers and got along well with the regulars you had, but being on your feet for hours on end for most days of the week was exhausting.

Your work day was the same as always. A group of older gentlemen would always come in early for some breakfast which usually consisted of biscuits and gravy all while talking for hours, getting refill after refill of coffee. You gained a few more customers when lunch rush hit, but things never picked up until it came closer to dinner time. You’d always get busy around then, mainly having truckers stop by for a good hot meal after being on the road all day. You didn’t mind though, you loved hearing the stories they’d tell about the places they’ve been and things they’ve seen. It always helped make the work day go by a little faster.

When your shift came to an end, you made your way back home. Feet aching from the day, all you wanted was to get out of these clothes and go to bed. You didn’t even think about the fact that Eddie said he would call. All that was on your mind now was getting some much needed rest.

When Tuesday had came and gone and still no word from him, you started to wonder why Eddie hasn’t been back over or called. You didn’t really pay much mind to it, thinking he must’ve been exhausted like you were last night after playing his gig at the Hideout with the Corroded Coffin boys.

Wednesday was a different story though. That evening, you made your way over to Family Video to pick out movies for the sleepover this weekend. It was supposed to be at Eddie’s place this time, but after not hearing from him for days, you weren’t sure if he even wanted to have it. You walk in and was greeted by Robin who stood at the front counter.

“Hey, y/n! Picking out more movies for you and Eddie this weekend?”

“Yeah,” you say in an unsure tone, “I guess I am.”

“You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sigh and start to explain everything to her. Just the part of not hearing from Eddie in a while, she didn’t need to know the rest and you still hadn’t even talked about it with Eddie himself. It would feel wrong to discuss those things with another person before him, even if Robin was one of your closest friends.

“It’s just, I don’t know. I’m not sure if he wants to have the sleepover this weekend. After he left my place Monday morning for school, I haven’t heard from him since. I figured maybe he was tired from his gig last night, but I still haven’t heard anything from him today either. It’s just weird not seeing or hearing from him, ya know? He’s never done this before.”

“Wait, you said he left Monday morning for school?” She asks and you give her a nod. “Eddie wasn’t at school Monday. Like at all.”

“What?” You looked at her with confusion written all over your face.

Not at school? What does she mean not at school? Why would he say that’s why he had to leave your place so early and then not go? Maybe he was late getting there and she just didn’t see him.

Robin went on to explain, “Yeah. He borrowed my biology notes and was supposed to give them back to me at lunch, but he wasn’t there. I asked the guys at the Hellfire table if they’d seen him but they said he never showed up that morning.”

What the hell? Why didn’t he go? More importantly, why did he lie to you about going in the first place? Your blood started to boil at the thought of him lying to you. You had been friends forever, why would he feel the need to lie? You explained to Robin that you had to go, not getting the movies you had planned on picking up. You needed to get home to think about some things. What the fuck was Eddie’s problem?

Thursday evening rolled around and still no word. You finally decided to give him a call instead of waiting for him. You knew he should be home from school right now, if he even went this time, and he didn’t have band practice or anything like that. You reach for the phone and dial his number. After a few rings, a mans voice spoke on the line.

“Hello?” Wayne. You didn’t think he’d be home right now. He must’ve been getting ready to leave for work when you called.

“Hey, Uncle Wayne, is Eddie around?” You ask.

Wayne looks over at Eddie standing in the living room, signaling for him to say that he wasn’t there and couldn’t talk.

Wayne sighs before answering, “No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. He’s not here at the moment. I could take a message for him if you’d like though.”

There it was, another lie. Now he’s even getting other people to do it for him? Unbelievable.

“Just tell him to give me a call when he gets a chance, okay?” You tried to not sound frustrated, but Wayne could tell you were upset.

“Will do.” He hangs up the phone and looks up at Eddie once again.

“Boy, I don’t know what the hell is going on between you two, but whatever it is, not talking to her about it isn’t going to solve the problem.”

Eddie looks down at his feet, embarrassed that Wayne is lecturing him over something that he should’ve already taken care of.

“I know, Wayne, it’s just..” he tries to think of the best way to explain this to his uncle without having to go further into detail about it all, “things are just a bit..complicated right now, okay? I promise I’ll talk to her soon. I just need some time to think about things.”

Wayne takes the hint that Eddie doesn’t want to get into the subject of what’s going on and gives him a sympathetic look. Not really knowing what it was that was making things complicated between you both, but knew whatever it may be was causing his boy to be in misery.

Grabbing his jacket and getting ready to head out the door, he turns and with a sigh he says to Eddie, “Well, whatever it is, you guys have been friends all your lives. You’ll be able to get through it, okay? Don’t sweat it, kid.”

And with that he heads out the door, leaving Eddie to stew in his own thoughts about everything.

You on the other hand, were pissed. Outraged. Angry.

How could he lie to you like that? Why would he even do such a thing? And then ignore your call when you finally reach out to him?

No, you weren’t gonna have it. Eddie was going to talk to you face to face about this whether he liked it or not. It was something that needed to be done, and you knew exactly when to do it.

It was finally Friday, you had just finished your shift at work and was heading home to change and shower. Eddie was making his way over to the high school to start setting up for his Hellfire campaign. You knew if he wasn’t going to come to you and talk about things, you’d have to go to him. And that’s exactly what you planned on doing. You knew he wouldn’t miss a Hellfire meeting no matter what, so he would definitely be there. He wouldn’t be able to hide from you no longer.

You arrived at the high school and made your way to the room where the boys would be at. As you got closer to the door, you could hear them screaming at one another. Most likely over something that just happened during the campaign. You then heard a familiar sound. One that usually filled you with joy, but this time it just made you fill up with more rage than you already had.

Eddie’s laugh.

It pissed you off to no end hearing it. Hearing him having a good time, as if nothing was wrong. As if he hasn’t been avoiding you like the plague all week.

Without any hesitation, you burst through the door. The room falls silent as everyone looks over to see who interrupted them in the middle of their campaign. When Eddie’s eyes finally met yours, he could see how upset you were.

“Oh shit.”, He whispers to himself.

You march your way over where he was, sat on his throne, and you point your finger at his face.

“Where the hell have you been? Hm?”

Before Eddie has a chance to say anything, you continue on with your rant.

“All week! You haven’t called or stopped by to see me all fucking week! You never do that. Ever. We have been best friends forever and now suddenly, without warning you decide to just disappear? What the hell is your problem? Why have you been ignoring me?”

Eddie sat there, speechless and paralyzed from shock. He wasn’t expecting you to just show up randomly. He thought he would have more time to think over things before talking to you. He also didn’t expect to be having this conversation in front of the entire Hellfire Club, either.

“Say something!” You yell at him. Still, Eddie can’t find the words. Mouth moving as if he wants to say something but nothing comes out. You were mad before, but now standing here having him just stare at you not saying a word, it sends you over the edge.

“Fuck you, Eddie.” You spewed hatred towards him. “I can not believe after everything you did to me this weekend, you have the fucking audacity to not only ignore me and my calls, but blatantly lie to my face and have Wayne lie for you too. I already know you didn’t go to school Monday, Robin confirmed it for me. I seriously can’t believe you right now!”

You were fuming and after a few seconds of Eddie still not saying a word, you look at him and reach your hand out.

“Give me my key.”

“W-what?” Eddie finally is able to breathe out a word, and of course, it’s not what you wanted to hear.

“You heard me…Give. me. my. key.”

When he doesn’t move to give it, you yell again, still beyond frustrated with him.

“NOW!”

With trembling hands, Eddie reaches for it. He slowly takes the spare key to your apartment off the key ring and places it in your hand. You walk back over to the door, turning to him one last time before you leave.

“Don’t bother calling or coming over anymore. Not until you actually grow the fuck up for once. Until then, I’m done. I don’t need to put up with you and all of your bullshit, especially not after what happened.”

You slam the door shut, leaving the boys there in silence. Walking back out of the school, you feel hot tears running down your face. In this moment, you could care less. You just wanted to go home and forget about everything that has happened this past week.

Eddie is left sitting there, staring at the door trying to hold back the tears in his eyes that are fighting to spill over the edge. Gareth is the first one to break the silence.

“Dude, I don’t know what you did” he says looking away from the door and back over to Eddie, “but whatever it was, you really fucked up.”

Still not saying a word, Eddie thought to himself.

He really did fuck up this time.

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[girl-named-matty]

Hogwarts Legacy characters and my first impressions of them pt.1

Semi-in order of when you meet them.

Eleazar Fig: Cool guy, seems to care a lot about me so that's nice.

George Osric: This guy is TOTALLY the villain. Why would he just come out of nowhere and be acting so weird and like he doesn't want anyone else to hear what he has to say? (LOL sorry George 💀We all know how that ended)

Ranrok: Naww who is this- DID HE JUST KILL THAT GOBLIN?!

Professor Black: Annoying. Annoying, Annoying, Annoying. GO AWAY.

Professor Weasley: She's awesome, super sweet, and she's in Gryffindor and I'm in Gryffindor so that's nice. Oh, wait a Weasley???

Cressida Blume: She's cute. Has cute freckles.

Nellie Oggspire: I need to be her friend IMMEDIATELY.

Garreth Weasley: Oh this guys a cutie--OH SHOOT HIS LAST NAME IS WEASLEY.

Natty Onai: Her name is Natty... and mine is Matty... We now we HAVE to be best friends.

Professor Ronen: Oh, he seems like fun!

Sebastian Sallow: Woah wait why are they fighting. OH SHOOT IS THAT GINGER KID ABOUT TO DIE- Oh, never mind. Was this guy allowed to do that? Is he gonna bully me? Should I be suspicious of him? Oh, well either way he's kinda cute.

Professor Hecat: Oh, she's cool.😎

Lenora Everleigh: So cute and has a very beautiful name.

Sirona Ryan: An absolute queen. Gave me free butterbeer and she seems really considerate of the other shop keepers. Oh and she defends me so yeah absolute queen.

Victor Rookwood: Uhh who is this guy? Oh shoot wait is he supposed to be another villain? His top hat is kinda goofy ngl. Also what kind of a threat is "Can't drink butterbeer forever?". I don't know whether to be intimidated or to laugh. Maybe both?

Theophilus Harlow: MY EYEESSSSSSS! 😭😭😭 (Sorry but he looks nasty)

Professor Garlick: OH SHE CUTEEEEEEE.

Leander Prewett: Oh I HATE THIS GUY GET ME OUT OF HERE!!! SEBASTIAN SALLOW SAVE ME. PROFESSOR GARLICK HELP. (I promise I have changed my ways and I now love him)

Professor Sharp: OoOooo he looks intimidating but he is very handsome.

Amit Thakkar: CUTIE RAVENCLAW!

Andrew Larson: ANOTHER CUTIE RAVENCLAW! (throwing him in here now bc I'll tell you guys I didn't even know he had a name until like six or seven+ months ago so I got my first impression of him online LOL)

Lucan Brattleby: This kid looks fire. He's my little brother now and nobody can stop me.

Eric Northcott: He hasn't said a single word yet I do not like him. (Sorry Eric girlies)

Ominis Gaunt (1): Why does this guy keep talking to me in the hallways. Is he mad at me? WHAT DID I DO?! Oh, shoot wait is he blind? CAN HE SEE WITH HIS WAND??? DAWG THIS IS AWESOME. also he's really pretty.

Richard Jackdaw: Why does he look and sound exactly like Garreth? Is this another Weasley I don't know about?

Madam Kogawa: She looks cool. Kinda intimidates me tho and I have no idea why.

Everett Clopton: His voice is kinda annoying and we got in trouble but he did teach me how to go super fast on a broom so I'll give him that much.

Deek: AWWW I LOVE THIS GUY!!

Ominis Gaunt (2): WHY DID YOU YELL AT MEEEEE?😭IM NOT GONNA TELL ANYONE ABOUT THE UNDERCROFT I SWEAR. 😭😭

Percival Rackham: Don't like him. I don't know why but I do not like him.

Professor Howin: ...is that dodo bird actually gonna attack me or are you just saying that-

Poppy Sweeting: Aww she looks cute. She is very small but obviously that doesn't stop her from defending beasts from bullies LETS GO! Oh also she's got a cool hippogriff friend!

Imelda Reyes: Oh, I am going to beat her time by a LANDSLIDE just because she said that to me. (rivals to lovers fr)

Lodgok: Oh he seems really nice for helping us but should I be suspicious of his connections to Ranrok?

Gladwin Moon: Saw this guy earlier and he was acting weird. And now I figure out it's because of some statues. Can this school get any weirder?

pt.2 coming soon 👀

[xxsabitoxx]

Promise Me

Giyu x Reader

Warning: this story contains angst

A/N: I said I was writing a Giyu angst…so here it is. I put the idea aside to finish my Kishibe fic and well… I wrote this in under an hour, I’m very tired and it isn’t proof read lol so if it’s shit… don’t tell me <3

Word Count: 2k

Sat on top of a grassy hill, light just barely filtering through to the ground, warm air cradling you in its embrace. You felt normal, for once in your life, you could finally rest without worry. “Strange… isn't it?” It was a quiet comment, as if your voice would shatter the illusion…even though it wasn’t an illusion to begin with. “Very much.” His voice was just as warm as the air surrounding you, so different than the one you were used to.

There was no reason for him to hide his emotions behind a sheet of thick ice, ice not even the toughest of picks had been able to break through. Mostly because they were never meant to, that ice was the kind only the sun itself could melt away. That was exactly what it did, removing every inch of the barrier he had built up over the first twenty one years of his life. “It almost feels like I’m dreaming.”

You watched the field below you, long grass swaying in the breeze. It looked inviting, like you could run through it for miles and never get tired. “Yeah… almost as if it’s too good to be true.” Giyu smiled softly, head tilting back to admire the brilliant hues of the setting sun. Painting the sky in an array of pinks and golds. Night was slowly creeping up on the two of you, yet it held no dread.

You no longer feared the setting sun, you welcomed the moon’s gentle embrace. There was nothing lurking within the shadows any longer, you’d forever be free from their grasp. “Me too, if this is a dream I hope it never ends.” You laughed softly, head tilting to admire the man beside you. Battered and bruised with so much left behind, so much that would never come back, you both emerged from the other side victorious.

“This just may be the longest dream I’ve ever experienced.” Your heart skipped, ever so slightly, as a smile crept up his face again. You weren’t used to it, you weren’t used to the warmth it radiated nor the brilliance it held when he smiled without restraint. The way his nose would scrunch softly, the way the corner of his eyes would crinkle. It only took an hour before you found yourself addicted to the look of it. “I rather like it here.” His gaze moved to meet yours.

For a moment, it felt as if time had stopped, as if the world stopped spinning on its axis for just that brief second. You couldn’t quite get over the man beside you, the man you now called your own. “Me too.” A gentle whisper, just as gentle as the breeze that carried it away from you. Everything about your life within the last two months was nothing short of new. A new beginning of sorts.

With that new beginning came new experiences. You’d never known a love like the one you shared now. It was delicate and young, you both had quite a lot to bear, to figure out. But this? It came naturally, no longer any barriers to keep you apart. There was no longer a reason to deny what was clearly there. Every day was a new opportunity, a new day to discover more about the other. Now, you couldn’t imagine your life without him.

You broke your gaze from his, a smile still present on your lips as you scooted closer to him, head coming to rest on his shoulder. “We should travel more, find every beautiful place we can.” Your fingers tangled in his, squeezing gently. “I’d like that. There is a whole world out there waiting for us. Now that we have the time to actually explore it.” His cheek pressed to the top of your head, eyes locked on the way your fingers intertwined with his.

“We could go anywhere we want. Take a boat across the ocean and discover what lies beyond it. Then, when we’re satisfied, once we’ve seen everything we could ever imagine, we return here.” You smiled, cheek squished to his shoulder. “We’d always have a home, so long as we’re together.” He teased softly, yet there was a weight to his words. “Tell me, Giyu…” you started softly, not wanting to pull away from him.

Yet you ached to see his face when you asked this question. “Yes? What is it?” His grip on your fingers tightened slightly, as if one gust of wind would pull you from him. “Are we going to spend the rest of our lives together? Just me and you?” You expected some sort of hesitation, some sort of silence that told you he was thinking about his answer. Instead, he replied without a second of hesitation. “If you’ll let me, I don’t ever intend on leaving your side.”

You pulled away, head lifting from his shoulder to look at him. “I’d never ask you to leave.” It was raw, maybe more serious than you intended for it to come out. Perhaps you only realized that because of the look in his eyes, blue eyes that held such surprise, such love. For a moment you found it hard to keep that gaze, as if the weight of his adoration would suffocate you if you tried to bear it all at once. “Good. Because you’d have a hell of a time keeping me away.”

A smile broke onto your face, one as brilliant as the setting sun behind you. One that made him pause for a moment, engraving each and every centimeter of your face into his memory. He never wanted to stop seeing the smile, he wanted to continue to be the reason you smiled in such a way. It was more intimate than any act of physical love in his book. A smile that was meant for him and him alone.

“I love you.” Slipped past his lips before he could pull it back, three words having a mind of their own as they tumbled helplessly out for you to hear. But maybe it was the words you uttered back that held more gravity, six words that pulled his heart in a million directions before snapping back into a whole. The kind of response he could only dream of getting, the response he didn’t quite feel he was deserving of. But that was something to be worked on.

“I know… I love you, too.”

You’d been aching to say it, quickly losing track of the amount of times where you nearly did. These were things that couldn’t be rushed. Now, you had all the time in the world to feel things out, cherish each moment and do things when the time felt right and not because the chance could get pulled out from under you. Now, though, saying ‘I love you’ now has never felt more right.

You shared a kiss, not your first, but one to remember. You’d engraved every bit of it to your memory. The way his lips felt against your own, soft and warm. The way he tasted, sweet like the honey from the pastry you had shared. The warmth between your bodies, the comfort of the other's presence. The sun fading to your backs, the sky lighting up with one last display of its brilliance before entering its slumber. Every moment of it was something to remember, hold on to and cherish.

Four years have passed since that day. Now, you sat on that very hill again. This time, you were alone. There was no longer a warmth cradling you in its embrace. The grass had long since died, the sky no longer held the brilliance it once did. It was cold, colder than sitting in the snow in the middle of winter with no layers.

Loneliness had never felt so crushing. As if the weight of it would drag you straight through the dirt below you and swallow you whole. Part of you wished it would. “You said I’d have one hell of a time keeping you away.” You laughed without any humor behind it, drawing your knees to your chest, the bark of the tree digging into your back. “You’re such a liar.”

You looked down, the stone was etched beautifully in perfect writing. His name front and center along with his dates. For some reason, it sent bubbling anger straight to your gut. Not anger at him, no you could never hold anything against him. It was physically impossible for you to ever feel badly towards him. No, this anger was directed at everything out of your control.

Just before his twenty-fifth birthday, he’d fallen ill. The kind of ill that you knew deep down you couldn’t come back from, the kind of sickness that pulled life out of you day by day…hour by hour. The kind of sickness that you could do nothing to treat, only try your hardest to make it comfortable. You had spent each and every day by his side, every waking moment holding his hand.

Remembering your travels, laughing about the adventures the two of you had shared. You’d meant every word that you said that day, you’d wanted to see the world. And Giyu did everything in his power to give that to you. You’d traveled to every beautiful place imaginable, even sailed across the ocean to discover the very lands you’d only ever dreamed of. He’d given you the entire world.

“I love you.” Just as gently as you had that day. Just as gently as you had whispered while he took his final breath. Just as gently as you spoke it every day you sat beside him on this hill. Your hand ached for the weight of his, fingers crying for the warmth of his tangled in your own. Crying to forget the coldness they had felt once he was gone, the warmth you’d never get back.

Thinking back on that day, you wish you had stared at him just a little longer, memorized the shade of blue that filled his irises. You wished you’d memorized the tone of his voice, the way his hair felt against your fingers, the soft blush of his skin. Even if you were granted all the time the world had to offer you, it would never be enough. There was no amount of time that would allow you to memorize him.

It was almost laughable, that three months without him felt longer than the four years you’d spent with him. Eventually you’d come to face the reality of your anger, that it wasn’t anger at all. The feelings you harbored were love, love in its purest form. In the end, that’s what grief really was. Love that you’d never be able to put forth, the kind that would forever hang on your shoulders and weigh you down. Always reminding you that it had nowhere to go.

“You’ll wait for me, won’t you? I promise I won’t be much longer.” Your eyes closed, inhaling the cool air through your nose. “It’s only a matter of time, it’ll catch up to me. My twenty-fifth is only a few months away. You’ll wait for me, right?” Your chest felt empty with each breath you took, nothing but an ache reminded you that you were still alive. It was infuriating to you, yet you couldn’t decipher why. Your mind is far too jumbled but unbearably silent at the same time.

“We can travel the world again. I’m not sure what lies beyond this, but I’m sure it’s far prettier than anything we ever saw. Maybe we can get married this time, when we’ll really have all the time in the world. We can enjoy each other with no time limit, for real this time. Giyu, promise me you’ll wait.” You knew no one was listening but that would never stop you from talking. When your death caught up to you, you’d die alone. But that didn’t scare you.

Not in the slightest. Because you knew he’d be there waiting, just as patiently as you had pleaded with him each time you sat beside his grave. Just as you had asked him, just as he promised you before his eyes shut, never to open again. Death was a warm hug, just as warm as the breeze had been that day. Just as warm as his hand had been intertwined with your own.

[whirlwindimagines]

First time requesting so I hope I don't make this super confusing but I couldn't help it because I love your writing ♥️.

I was thinking that the reader is a printer (prints the newspapers on the press, designs and prints wanted posters, etc.) Reader is a good friend of Meryl and Roberto because of the newspaper business, so when the group comes into the print shop to look for some information on someone/some place the reader recognizes vash from the wanted posters. Because of that the group thinks reader is gonna turn vash into the police but the reader just says that vash looks cuter than the wanted poster xD

Reader probably offers to stop printing his wanted poster.

Just an idea I had and (totally not because I personally work at a print shop cough cough) wanted to share!

Thank you! Hey nothing wrong for asking for something self-indulgent! And that seems like a cool job! This is a shorter one, but I hope you enjoy it! (lol its still over 600 words)

'Wanted'

Vash x Reader

You dropped the stack of papers on the table with a sigh, God is it time for your break yet or not? With a sigh you sort through the papers, your mind going blank at the actions. You don't know how many wanted posters you can look at anymore, how could this many people even be wanted?

With a groan you rub at your eyes, maybe you should just take that break now. Hands messaging temples, you start to sneak out to the back room. Passing towers of paper, and your co-workers rushing around you are stopped before reaching your destination.

“Y/n there’s someone here to see you, Meryl it was?” Your whole demeanor brightens, you haven’t seen Meryl in forever! Thanking your co-worker, you quickly head to the front lobby, the thought of a break far from your mind. You haven’t seen the reporter for a while now after she got sent on some big assignment as she put it.

Hoping everything was okay with Meryl, you spot her standing in the lobby. She called your name, giving a big wave as she did. Joining her side, Meryl quickly pulls you into a hug which you gladly returned. “It’s been a while how are you?” You ask pulling back, she lets out a laugh. “Busy it’s been a little hectic.” You’re not what sure she means; you notice Meryl looking around a little nervously. 

You are about to question her, but she speaks before you can. “Can we talk outside? As excited as I am to see you again, we’re actually looking for some information. And I thought you’d might be able to help us.” You let out a ‘hum’ guess you were taking that break. “Sure! Just give me a moment.” 

Once you have everything settled away, you let Meryl lead you outside and around the corner. The two of you chat idly, whatever she actually wants to talk about must be important, but you’re always willing to provide an inside scoop for a friend. Rounding the corner you spot Roberto, who looks as tired as always, you’re sure Meryl is keeping him on his toes.  

Beside him is another man, and oh hello tall, blonde, and handsome. You narrow your eyes something looks so familiar about him, but you can’t put your finger on it. Meryl drags you over to the two men, and you greet Roberto with a bright smile which he returns with a gruff 'hello' and a pat on your shoulder. 

The man in the red coat greets you with a bright smile, and it’s very nice. He doesn’t give you his name, which you find very suspicious but you still can’t figure out why. Meryl starts talking, explaining what they’re looking for and that any information will be appreciated.

You are listening you really are, but you can’t help but sneak some glances at the blonde. It hits you then, “oh!” You say snapping your fingers and pointing at the blonde, “Your Vash the Stampede!” Your statement shocked everyone into silence, you laughed at their wide eye looks. “Man, I can’t tell you how many wanted posters we print of you.” You are surprised you didn’t recognize him sooner! 

Vash looks at you with wide eyes, but smiles “nice to meet you!” He says this with a laugh, Meryl grabs your arm forcing you to look at her, “you’re not going to say anything right?” She looks up at you with wide eyes as you shake your head. 

“Of course not, if he’s with you guys then there must be a reason, I trust you.” You answer honestly, and everyone lets out a sigh of relief. You smirk your gaze meeting Vash’s “And besides your much cuter in person.” You tease, watching his entire face go red. Meryl groans beside you releasing your arm in the process, while Roberto mutters something about getting a drink. 

You continue your talk with the three, continuing to sneak some glances at Vash, who seemed to be doing the same to you. He really was cuter in person; you certainly wouldn’t mind getting to know the Humanoid Typhoon.

You are happy that you were able to provide at least some information for the group, before parting ways you turn to Vash "If you want I can mess up the printing machine a bit, make it so they aren't printing so many of your wanted posters." and you mean, Vash rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, "Man I would really appreciate it!"

You smirk then, "Of course, but could you sign one of them for me? I mean I have to keep one of the posters now after meeting you in person." you give him a wink, watching with glee as his entire face goes red and he turns into a stuttering mess. It really is endearing, and he does promise to sign one for you! So you figure its a win.

[yanderes-galore]

I have a request. A scenario where romantic yandere Master Chief becomes self aware and realizes he's in an video game. Though now he desperately wants to be with the reader.

Sure! This fic has two parts so this part will be a bit of a set up to the actual yandere behavior of Chief in part 2 (Hopefully).

I tried to make it make sense yet I still struggle with Self-Aware characters, lol 😅

Bigger Picture - Part 1

Yandere! Self-Aware! Master Chief Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Self-Aware game character, This is mostly set up, Slight obsession at first sight, Dubious relationship, Slight possessive themes implied, Possible OOC Master Chief.

The Master Chief has always been the best of the best of the best. People assumed he became who he is through hard effort and training. John was just naturally great.

But humanity's greatest hero had gotten help.

Was it Cortana who helped him through it all? Perhaps Blue Team? Maybe even the Arbiter, Thel?

While they have helped his journey, that was not the only help he got.

Master Chief, John, had gotten outside help. Help beyond his comprehension. This help was not Forerunner in nature, they were human.

They were you.

The Master Chief had been guided by you through his journey. He had fought through the Covenant, The Flood, and the Prometheans all with you. You were a presence who was meant to be Chief's other half.

You were also how John had realized his life was a lot smaller than he thought.

You see, like an AI, John's life is fabricated. All of these missions, all these lives he sought to protect, it all felt real. To him, it felt very real and important.

Then when he defeated the Didact and Cortana warped him to a new plane, Chief saw something. Before he saw Cortana again, he was a screen. He saw you, a device in hand.

Originally these images confused John. Who was it that he saw? Why did he feel... comfort.

When asking Cortana or any other part of the UNSC about it, they assumed he had brain damage. His scans showed he was fine, however. No one else knew about the figure he saw.

It would take a long time before Chief understood. To him it felt like forever, it was probably nothing to you. It was then he knew the truth...

He's fake. It's all fake. His life is only able to exist because of one presence, yours.

You were the only thing that made him relevant. Not only did you guide him, you controlled him. It took Cortana saving him after the Didact for him to understand.

This information cursed his mind.

John was no more a construct than Cortana, was he? He feels like he wasn't supposed to know this. He wasn't supposed to know about you.

Now John wanted to know more. For now he'd focus on his missions, yet he was always looking for a way to see you again. He wasn't sure what exactly made him want to free himself of your control, but it was a new goal.

John began to find himself fascinated by Forerunner technology much more than before. He wonders if this way he can find a way to you. The thought of learning the truth about you is what now drove him.

While you were simply playing your favorite game, you had no idea of what was going on. You had no idea that John was sentient. You had no clue what went on when the game was off

You were completely oblivious to John's desperate scour for the truth of his existence.

In fact you would have no idea what was going on until it's too late.

John began to fall for the idea of meeting you. Romantic attraction didn't occur in his mind, in fact it wouldn't until much later. All he knew was he needed to find a way to meet you. Even if it went against the mission.

The closest John got to seeing you was small glimpses. Occasionally he'd "hallucinate" and see you again in front of a screen. He began to grow attached to your guiding presence, yearning to learn more.

He didn't know your name, why he was seeing you, and why he needed to know this all now. Was there a reason? Did YOU choose for him to know?

Was he meant to see any of this?

John's search for information began to degrade his mind. He wasn't meant to know any of this. It wasn't in his code.

But as he continued, soon he became more than an avatar for some code in a game. Soon, he became more and more real as he grew more sentient. It builds up and up... until...

He finds a way.

By what appears to be by accident, Chief stumbles through a wall.

It was unintentional, it even scares the unshakable Master Chief for a moment. He... was in an entirely new place. One that look very green and... binary.

It was like looking inside of an AI. The scenery unnerved John as he explored. Was this also something he was meant to discover?

Then he finds it.

Amidst the darkness surrounded by green lights, he sees a screen. A screen that shows the person he's been looking for. He feels... relieved.

It's you.

That controller-like device of yours sits down on on a desk. Meanwhile you're looking through a bookcase. John doesn't realize he's drifted closer, reaching his hand out.

You looked so peaceful. A human who's not surrounded by intergalactic war. It's a feeling he's not very used to.

He stretches his arm out to the screen towards you. You've been tormenting his mind for so long. Now... he can finally know the truth.

When he sees you... his mind thinks of one thing.

You're his guardian... his guide... you're his.

He presses against the screen, visor not looking away from you... and he falls through.