#there's nothing there and i realize that after a few seconds when my brain finally catches up that it's awake

[soaps-mohawk]

Honestly I wake up extremely strange like every morning when my alarm turns on I literally just gasp and basically fly off the bed so if I was a little omega sleeping or maybe taking a nap with one of the boys I think they'd get a heart attack from seeing the reader literally jumping off the bed (sorry about the weird way I described it but I think you get the picture lol)

When it happens the first time? Yeah. They're flying out of bed too asking what's happening, where's the fire, is it a bug, a nightmare?

Cue that panic that something’s wrong, perhaps even some yelling (Johnny) which wakes everyone else up. Definitely scares them, until they realize it's just how the reader wakes up.

After that it's a game to try and keep the reader from doing that in the morning. Sleeping in a cocoon of blankets and limbs, always being held onto tightly. It becomes an unconscious reflex to just lock the reader in place when an alarm goes off or she starts to flail. Still happens though, and now they just laugh about it.

[worldlxvlys]

study sesh w bff! matt, but he can’t stay focused bc you’re so innocently distracting. he ends up giving into his deepest darkest fantasies and fucks your brains out

study session

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, oral (male + fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it), rough sex, squirting, spanking, fingering, overstimulation, cursing

a/n: i combined these two cause i thought they’d go well tg, hope ya like it

MATT’S POV

“matt? what the hell are you doing here?”

at the sound of her voice, i whipped my head around to look at her.

my eyes widened, cheeks growing red as i took in her clothing choice, or lack thereof.

she wore nothing but one of my shirts, most likely opting to just wear underwear under it.

the scent of her fruity body wash wafted into her room through the open bathroom door.

“matt?” she asked again, pulling me from my daze.

“your mom let me in for our study session” i answered after clearing my throat awkwardly.

“shit, i completely forgot about that” she spoke, eyes darting to the open backpack that sat beside me.

she quickly walked over to her desk, grabbing her own backpack before joining me on the bed.

“ok, so where should we start?” she asked, crossing her legs and making herself comfortable across from me.

—

she was driving me crazy.

every time she shifted slightly her shirt rode up her thigh, exposing more and more skin.

“matt ? are you paying attention?” she asked, placing her hand on my thigh. it took everything in me not to move it further up.

“um, honestly? maybe we should just look in the textbook” i answered, knowing that no matter what question she just asked, i was too far gone to give her an intelligible answer.

“ok well let me go grab it then, i’m pretty sure i stuck it at the top of my closet in the beginning of the year” she answered, getting up from the bed and moving towards her closet.

i watched as she stood on the tips of her toes, struggling to reach the book.

i should’ve gotten up to help her, but i was too focused on the view i had of her ass when her t-shirt rose up.

not only was her ass on full display, but i also had a perfect view of her red thong.

there was simply no way she didn’t realize that she was fully flashing me in the moment.

was she teasing me on purpose?

or, maybe she just trusted that i’d look away instead of staring at her like a creep.

i felt all of the blood rush to my dick, making a very noticeable tent form in my pants.

deciding to help her before it got worse, i quickly got up and rushed towards the closet just as she finally maintained a firm grip on the textbook.

“got it!” she spoke.

unfortunately for her, when she pulled the thick book down, she also managed to pull down every book underneath it.

the books fell onto her floor, all of them remaining closed except for one.

“shit” she sighed heavily, realizing she would have to put them all back. i knelt down, beginning to help her pick up the books.

“here, just hand them to me. i’ll put them on my desk until we put the textbook back” she spoke as she picked up her own pile, placing them down onto the desk.

i followed her instructions, picking the books up and handing them to her, before stopping when the words of the open one caught my eye.

“i want matt”

i picked the book up, moving it closer to my face to read the rest of the words.

“you want me?” i asked out loud, clarifying the words to make sure there wasn’t some double-meaning i was missing.

she scrunched her eyebrows in confusion for a few seconds, face instantly dropping when she realized what i was reading.

“matt, no!” she spoke worriedly, moving to grab the book from me.

i moved it out of her reach before she had the chance to take it.

“let me read it” i spoke, watching as her eyes widened at my words.

“no, matt-” i placed my hand on her arm, rubbing it softly to let her know i wasn’t weirded out or mad.

“let me read it” i spoke, my eyes bouncing back and forth between hers.

she gave up after that, letting out a small sigh before backing away.

“i want him to…” my voice trailed off, eyes widening as my brain processed the raunchy things my best friend fantasized about me.

i glanced up at her, taking in her embarrassed state, before walking closer to her.

she reacted by walking backwards as i began to read again, “i want him to fuck me so hard that i can’t walk for a week”

i backed her into the desk, a small gasp falling from her mouth as my boner pressed into her thigh.

“i want his head between my thighs”

“i want to know what his pretty face looks like covered in my cum”

“wanna find out?” i asked as i turned her around, bending her over the desk.

“matt!” she squeaked out in surprise as i held her hands behind her back.

“yes or no?” i asked as i pressed my chest to her back, leaning into her as i whispered into her ear.

“yes, yes, please” she moaned out.

i let go of the book, letting it fall back onto the ground while i began to press kisses to her neck.

i lightly nipped at her skin, leaving little marks while she moaned softly under me.

suddenly, there were loud knocks at her door, my hold on her wrists tightening instinctively.

instead of stopping, however, i moved lower to begin leaving kisses on her thighs.

it was like any ounce of self-control i had left my body as soon as i read her words.

“are you guys ok? i thought i heard something fall” her mom spoke through the door.

her breathing grew heavy as my lips got closer and closer to her wetness.

“yeah, just my textbook!” she spoke as quickly as possible in hopes that a moan wouldn’t slip out.

“ok, just making sure” was all her mom said before she retreated from the door.

as soon as she knew her mom was gone, a long moan fell from her mouth.

“quiet, princess. don’t want her coming back, do we?” i asked her, lips brushing the skin of her ass.

“no, just- god, please do something” she whispered frustratedly.

i ran my hand across her ass before giving it a firm slap, making her moan out.

“lose the attitude” i spoke to her.

i pulled her thong down her legs, tapping her ankles lightly. she took the hint, quickly stepping out of them.

“i don’t have an attitude, i just- fuck” she cut herself off with a moan as i shoved my face into her cunt.

i let go of her hands, hooking them around her thighs as i licked a long stripe up her pussy.

her hand automatically flew to her desk, gripping onto it while she cried out.

“god, you taste so fucking good” i moaned against her as i licked up every drop of her wetness, savoring the taste of her on my tongue.

i lapped at her heat, her constant whining fueling me to keep going.

my eyes rolled back as all of my attention went into her pussy.

i was so consumed in it, i could stay there for hours. she was so perfect.

i moved my tongue up towards her clit, sucking and licking it, enjoying the moans that the pleasure pulled out of her.

realizing i was a little too excited, i slowed down a little bit. i needed to take my time and enjoy it.

i began to leave slow, tantalizing licks to her pussy. she squirmed at my teasing, pushing her hips back into my face.

she began to rock her hips back and forth against my mouth, letting out loud moans.

i pulled back, giving her ass another slap, “didn’t i tell you to be quiet?” i asked.

“yes, yeah, i’m sorry. i’ll be quiet, please matt”

i brought my hand to her pussy, spreading around her wetness with the palm of my hand.

i pushed a finger into her, taking her by surprise as her legs began to shake.

i moved the finger inside of her quickly, stretching out her tight hole.

i pushed another finger in, producing a squelching noise as they plunged in and out of her.

“matt, i’m gonna cum!” she cried out mere seconds before her juices shot out of her, splashing onto my face.

“f-fuck” she shivered as her release dripped down my face.

i got onto my feet and turned her to face me, placing my lips to hers in a heated kiss.

she reached down between us, unbuckling my belt without breaking the kiss.

she pulled my pants down, quickly moving her hand to palm me through my boxers.

i groaned softly at that, my head flying back as she applied pressure.

“want you so bad, matt” she whispered while her nose brushed my neck.

“need you inside of me” she spoke as her hand crept into the waistband of my boxers.

i pulled my boxers down, letting them fall to my ankles as she began to stroke me slowly.

after a few pumps, i pulled her hand away and brought it to my lips. i placed a light kiss to her knuckles before hoisting her onto the desk.

“ready?” i asked, searching her eyes for any hesitation.

she nodded her head slightly, looking up at me through her lashes.

“words, baby” i spoke.

“yes, matt. please, please just fuck me”

with that, i placed my hands on her hips and pushed myself into her entrance.

despite how stretched out she was, her walls still hugged my dick tightly, causing me to let out a strained groan as i pushed into her further.

we both let out loud moans as i bottomed out, my dick resting deep inside of her.

her hands flew to her sides, bracing herself on the desk as i began to move inside of her.

i thrusted into her slowly, but deep enough to make her body jolt with each slap of my hips against hers.

my hips collided with the desk under her with each thrust, causing it to thud against the wall harshly.

“m-matt, she’s gonna hear” she cried out between moans.

“you want me to stop?” i asked, raising my brows at her as i continued my movements.

“no!” she spoke loudly, “no, please don’t stop. it feels so fucking good, oh my god” she whined, her head flying back.

“yeah? is this what you think about when we study together?” i asked, only receiving long moans in response.

“you think about me fucking you on this desk? my dick so far into you, you can’t even speak?”

she looked so fucked-out, her eyes hooded and mouth hung open in pleasure. i wasn’t even sure she could hear me until she nodded her head in response.

“or maybe you think about me bending you over it, huh?” she began to moan louder at that, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“do you know the amount of times i’ve thought about seeing you like this?” i asked as i pushed her legs closer to her chest.

“yes, yes, yes, holy shit” she heaved as she held her legs close to her.

“so good for me” i mumbled, reaching between us to rub her clit.

“matt, i’m so close, so close” she whined as her body began to shake.

“yeah? you got it, let go for me, baby. ”

her eyes squeezed shut as she clenched around me, eliciting a deep groan from me as i felt the coil in my stomach tighten.

the feeling of her pleasure coating my length pushed me closer to finishing, causing me to quickly pull out of her.

“fuck, where do you want it?” i asked as i began to pump myself, chasing my orgasm.

she pushed me back slightly, hopping off of the desk and sinking to her knees in front of me.

before i could even process what she was doing, her mouth was on my tip.

“o-oh” i moaned in surprise.

all it took was her sucking on the tip once and i was gone.

my hips bucked forward into her mouth, accidentally pushing myself to the back of her throat.

my hands flew to the desk in front of me, gripping it firmly while i shot my seed down her throat.

she took her mouth off of me, sticking her tongue out to show me that she swallowed everything.

“you’re gonna be the death of me” i spoke as she got to her feet.

before she could respond, there was a loud knocking at the door.

shit.

🤍🤍🤍🤍

masterlist

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[johnbrand]

True Test

My nephew Brandon grew up in a deeply conservative household, where masturbation was strictly forbidden. He had been raised just like his father and I had been by our own parents, and their parents before them. We were built by traditions, maintaining them as they had maintained us throughout our childhood and adolescence. Certain words were never said in the house, certain ideologies never acknowledged. 

It had been my brother’s hope for Brandon to never see a naked woman before marriage. Everything had appeared to have been going to plan, for by the time Brandon reached his 22nd birthday, he was still exceptionally shy around the whole topic. My brother and I had been so proud; his little boy had made it through all of college without being tainted by “progressive” ideas or gone astray from our values. Unfortunately, that image was shattered when I arrived at  Brandon’s room to fetch him for cake, finding him jerking out a quickie to hardcore gay porn on his laptop.

Both of us stood in shock for a moment, unable to move as the realizations hit us. I had discovered his secret, he believed his perfect facade was about to collapse. Brandon opened his mouth to explain but I had already left the doorway. By the time we got downstairs, everybody had been waiting for us. They had no idea what I was about to tell them.

“Before Brandon blows out the candles, I have one last birthday gift to give him.” Brandon rushed in behind me, his face red with embarrassment. My brother eyed me, caught off guard by this sudden announcement. “After college, he will stay with me out in the country for a few months to learn some more physical skills. All expenses covered by me, just one last hurrah before Brandon’s adulthood begins!”

Brandon’s eyes grew wide as the room cheered. My brother gave me a solid pat on the back, laughing and thanking me for such a great opportunity, insisting it was too much. I argued the contrary, watching as my nephew hesitantly paced over to his cake.

———

What none of my family knew, not even my brother, was that my property out in the country also doubled as a conversion camp. My institution had stayed afloat for three primary reasons. First, my property was an exclusive institution. I worked one-on-one with my clients, meaning my property was truly intimate. This tied in my second aspect, privacy. It was not special that no one in my family knew of my alternate career, as I kept my side gig well under the wraps of a decent, average country farm. Finally, I had never had a complaint. All my clients converted perfectly to my standards.

When Brandon had arrived at my farm for the summer, he had assumed there would be a combination of heavy farm work and awkward conversations. To be fair, at the surface level this was true. I had my nephew working from dawn to dusk every day, filling him with hearty, animal protein-heavy meals that along with the exhaustion would knock him out immediately after dinner was served. 

There was no time for anything but labor and my conversations with Brandon. I also allowed no devices beside my work computer, which was off limits anyway, meaning not only did my nephew have no time to jerk off, but nothing to jerk off to. Eventually, Brandon’s brain became too overworked from the constant tug of war between exertion and exhaustion, forcing his will to fall back in line. It became easier to just listen and absorb, to sponge up my opinions rather than react to them.

Over the summer months, I watched as my nephew’s slim, faggy form bloated into that of a man. He grew taller, broader, muscles slowly piling on thanks to the proper diet and obnoxious amount of exercise and training. One by one I replaced his articles of clothing with more appropriate attire: cheap tees that could get dirty, thrifted jeans, my old boxers already stretched to fit his thickening size. Brandon had not made any comment when his razors had disappeared, nor when his shoes were replaced with much larger, well-worn boots. His growing feet had needed them anyway.

The mental changes were harder. Our conversations, which eventually became nothing more than lectures, where discussions focused around the family's values. I spent the majority of our time peeling back Brandon’s progressive ideology, stripping down to the traditional conservative roots. In between it all, I would constantly scatter in mentions of girls, vulgarly tossing tits and pussy language so that it became all my nephew heard. At first it pissed him off, but once Brandon began to simply ingest it all, I knew the conversion had already begun. 

By our last week together, Brandon had become an entirely different man. The 22-year-old now physically resembled our family pride, his masculinity now at par with the textbook definition. As a final test of my work, I brought my nephew into my office and sat him next to the sole computer on the property. I instructed Brandon to open the screen, stepping away as the old monitor booted up a lesbian porno I had already booted up.

“Like what you see?” 

I chuckled as Brandon’s cock hardened, completely mesmerized. Thanks to the lack of exposure, my nephew’s brain was flooded with waves of sexual pleasure forgotten to him, now redirected with my instruction. With his instincts realigned, Brandon’s former life would be no more. I reached over and quickly turned off the monitor, knowing his aching cock threatened immediate release.

“You’ve passed the test,” I announced. “You’re a real man now, Brandon.”

I motioned towards the open bathroom, Brandon's massive cock still throbbing for the opposite gender. I offered my permission without saying a word, grabbing for the door. To my surprise, and delight, my nephew cockily questioned my expertise.

“I disagree, uncle,” his voice was deep and authoritative. “The true test will come after I lose my gold star.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Realizing your true feelings for Gojo after he stands up for you

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: You told yourself countless times that you aren't able to like Gojo Satoru, that he is nothing but a jerk. Until he stands up for you, until he shows you what he really thinks of you...

Warnings: literally wrote this in my break at work so don't come for me lol, fluff fluff fluff, reader getting insulted

Oh, how much you hate the way basically everyone looks at you. Well, not technically you, to be exact. It’s rather the person walking next to you who drowns in attention every time you are forced to go out together.

Not that you’d understand the hype. Gojo Satoru, the blessed one, the honored one, the strongest fucking jujutsu sorcerer of your lifetime.

“What’s wrong? Feeling left out, (y/n)?”

And probably the biggest pain in your ass.

“You’re such a whore for attention it hurts”, you bite back while rolling your shaded eyes the way you always do the second he opens his mouth.

His laughter vibrates through your body, annoys you to the core. When will this madness finally come to an end? When will they finally begin to send you onto missions with Geto, Yu or fuck, even Nanami? Why on earth does it always have to be him?

“Caught me there I guess. But it’s not my fault that I’m easy to look at. Not like you.”

You force yourself to take a deep breath in and out, to calm your tingling nerves and stop your fist from twitching. That fucker has some really good nerves. Only the sound of his name next to you simply drives you insane, let alone his stupid comments and oh too annoying voice. Is there really anything good on Gojo Satoru, something you might like?

“I hate you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Aww, don’t be like that, (y/n). We both know that isn’t true”, he purrs, ready to grab your shoulder when you yank away.

“I’ll break your fucking nose if you touch me, jerk.”

“I’d love to see you try, princess.”

“I’ve never seen you around here.”

The sudden soft female voice that interrupts your rambling catches you off guard.

There she stands, an undeniable beauty with curves in just the right places and blonde hair that looks like strands of gold. The bluest eyes, the most breathtaking smile. And of course, her gaze is fixated on Satoru.

“That’s because it’s my first time here. After all, my eyes definitely wouldn’t have miss someone like you”, he replies with that cheeky grin you know oh too well, the cheeky grin that makes your blood boil in an instant.

Really? This is probably the worst time to start a flirty conversation. You were sent here to detect a special grade curse, to save this damned city from getting scorched. But he? He has nothing but her blonde hair and delicate smile in his pea brain

“Don’t you think that this isn’t the right time for a conversation like that?”, you mumble irritably.

“We’re just having a little talk. Who are you, his girlfriend? I highly doubt that. A girl like you would never have a chance with a guy like him.”

You have to blink a few times when her sugary voice spits at you with pure venom.

It shouldn’t bother you. Why would it? Gojo is the last person walking on earth you’d be in a relationship with, the last person who would ever want you. You, with your average looks. You, being a grade 2 sorcerer who has nothing special to offer. You, who never actually allowed herself to like Gojo. You, who is nothing compared to the woman standing in front of you.

Then why do her words feel like a knife in your heart? Why are you standing there like an idiot, sunglasses barely covering your pain? Why does his presence next to you suddenly sting so badly?

“Pretty disgusting words for someone with that face. Do you really think the world belongs to you because you look good? Let me tell you something: Apart from being hot, (y/n) is also unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic. Someone as simple-minded as you should better avoid me. Now get lost, will you?”

What.

On.

Earth.

Did Gojo Satoru really stand up for you? No, did Gojo Satoru just call you “hot, unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic”? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any given minute. A cruel storm of butterflies almost causes your guts to turn, makes you see stars. Are you dreaming, maybe? This can’t be reality. It’s impossible that-

“Hey, are you okay? I hope you don’t trust that stinky girl”, Gojo speaks out softly.

You can sense the way he eyes you up and down through his sunglasses, the little pout on his face revealing that he’s truly worried. Is that really the boy who teases you until you lose your mind completely? God, how much you hate him, how much you want to punch him into his stupid perfect face.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. But what is that little part of your brain that almost dies in excitement, then? What are those strange butterflies that never invaded you since you joined Jujutsu High?

“Hey, look at me.”

Your eyes dart upwards, get greeted by his bright blue orbs that look down at you in a seriousness you’ve never seen before.

“Tell me you don’t believe her.”

“She said nothing I don’t already know”, you reply dryly.

He shakes his head, still staring down at you with furrowed eyebrows. Who is this guy? What are those feelings? Why aren’t you able to look away like you always do? Gojo is only playing with you the way he does constantly. His bright blue orbs aren’t to be trust and you know it.

“I would choose you a hundred times before someone like her, (y/n).”

It’s like all life drained from your body, blank eyes staring at him in shock. This really has to be a dream. When was the last time Gojo has been nice to you? Probably never. He constantly teases you, drives you inane, makes you mad, makes you regret your decision to come to Jujutsu High and also��

Makes you feel save, makes you feel good about yourself, makes you feel affection.

Affection? For Gojo?

“I…I have to go”, you blurt out so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet while trying to haste away.

He’s only picking on you like he always does. Gojo Satoru, considering a romantic relationship with you? You huff out loud, cheeks redden by the sheer thought of the dumb look you gave him. You aren’t better than the girls you despise so much, after all. He truly managed to wrap you around his finger like everyone else, even though you told yourself over and over to hate him.

What a pathetic jerk you are.

You spin around so fast you almost fall over, only to get caught in a pair of strong arms.

“You don’t believe me”, Gojo notes while keeping you in place.

“Why would I?”, you press out, not daring to look at him once again.

You need to get away from this cursed place, away from the honored one. It’s time to go back to normal, back to hating him with all your heart. Because this is all he is, right? Gojo Satoru is nothing but your rival…right?

“Maybe I can convince you with something else.”

Just when you’re about to protest and freeing yourself, he pulls you even closer and presses his lips against yours.

Time stands still, the lenses of your sunglasses pressing so violently against Gojo’s skin that they crack.

This.

This is the stuff your wildest dreams are made of, a dream you didn’t even allow yourself to think about. If there’s one thing that always seemed impossible to you, it was this. Why would you ever be more than Gojo’s rival, what is the purpose of seeing anything apart from a pain in the ass in him?

This right here.

Out of instinct, you wrap your arms around him as well, pull him closer and closer, take in his delicious scent. The sheer feeling of his lips collapsing into yours leaves you breathless, makes your lungs ache in the urge for air.

Until he lets go of you while panting hard, now glowing eyes fixated on you so intimidating that you feel yourself blushing.

“Believing me know?”

“You stained my sunglasses”, you breathe out mindlessly.

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[oneluckydumbass]

Well, hello and welcome to the madhouse. @sock-1574, your wish is my command, here's a quick _v2 for this short. I wrote it at 10pm and it's unedited, forgive me if you find mistakes. Also, f!reader.

In his sleep, Simon turned to wrap an arm around your waist to pull you against his body, a completely casual move that he had done so many times in the past. He just wanted to warm up a little in the chilly room, because despite the thick blanket you insisted on using, he could still use a little help. But his eyes opened when he realized you weren’t there next to him. It was odd. 

When he heard something break downstairs, he jumped out of bed, his instincts kicking in right away. It didn’t sound like a window breaking, more like a mug or a glass landing on the tiles. What were you even doing in the kitchen a little past two in the morning? He called out your name as he walked down the stairs several times, but there was no response. He heard a groan, then some soft sobbing, which made him believe something was wrong. 

By the time he entered the kitchen, you were sitting on the floor with your head between your knees, a hand gripping the back of your neck as you cried. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Nothing, you didn’t even look at him. “Hey, come on, tell me. What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” you mumbled through your tears. 

“What hurts?”

“My head.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m dizzy, I feel like I could faint any second. I wanted to drink from your favorite mug and I broke it, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t give a damn about that bloody mug,” Simon said with a nervous sigh as he took your hand. “The hospital is ten minutes away, it’s faster if I take you there myself. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

He helped you up, but after only a few steps, he felt your body becoming heavier as you lost consciousness. Without thinking, he picked you up and grabbed the car keys from the table by the front door. The hospital was close to their house, he would get there sooner than the ambulance would arrive. It was a miracle that no cop stopped him because he drove like some maniac. He was in a hurry since you were still unresponsive, and deep down he was expecting the worst.

What if you wouldn’t survive whatever this was?

Once he got there and a doctor noticed what state you were in, they quickly took you from him to run some tests on you while someone asked him questions. Questions he didn’t really know the answer to. You seemed fine when you had gone to sleep, all he knew was that you had this terrible headache in the middle of the night. 

They didn’t tell him anything apart from the info that they were doing some scans. He bought a coffee and sat in the waiting room, his mind in overdrive from the events of the past hour. And then that hour became two, and just when he was losing hope someone would finally tell him what the hell was happening, a doctor showed up and asked for your relative. 

“I’m her boyfriend, what’s happening to her?” he replied when they asked him who he was. 

“An aneurysm in her brain. Well, two, but only one ruptured. We will take her to the OR now and see what we can do,” the doctor explained. “It will take a long time, you might want to go home. We will call you once we know more.”

“I’d rather stay. And I’ll call her parents, I’m sure they would like to be here.” 

The doctor nodded then left to focus on your surgery. This left Simon alone in the waiting room again with his face buried in his hands as he tried to fight back the tears. He had to be strong. He couldn’t fall apart. He was supposed to tell your parents that you were in there because of a damn aneurysm. He knew those things were deadly, but you were still alive, fighting. 

After talking to your parents, he sent Price a message, telling him that there was no way he would leave your side for god knows how long. He was considering writing to Johnny too, but in the end he decided not to. The two of you were friends, he would be worried for sure. At least one of them had to stay sharp, especially if he happened to go on a mission before you got better. 

What he wasn’t expecting was Price showing up a bit over an hour after he had sent the message. The Captain greeted him quickly then pulled him into a hug. Simon had no idea how badly he needed that, how much he craved physical contact at this point. It grounded him, made him focus on the present, not on the possible worst outcomes. Because his mind had been full of what ifs, like what if you died, what would he tell your parents and friends? It would mean he failed to do the one thing he promised to do–to protect you from harm. 

“You’re spiraling, Simon,” Price said as they sat down. 

The lieutenant nodded. “It’s hard to do anything else in this place. She’s been in surgery for two hours now, I don’t know how it’s going, her parents aren’t here yet. What will I tell them?”

With a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, Price took a deep breath. “You wrote me it was an aneurysm. Those things can be hidden for decades. No one knew it was there, there’s no warning sign as far as I know, and let’s not forget that you brought her here in time. She’ll pull through, don’t worry,” he said. 

They sat there in silence for quite a while, but it was the sort of comforting silence that Simon truly needed now. And then, just when he was about to go and ask someone if they knew anything, the doctor showed up again. “Mr. Riley? She is out of surgery for now. She will need a lot of rest here in the hospital, and it will take some time to see if there is any kind of brain damage. She is okay now, but I need you to understand that a lot of patients with this problem don’t survive for long. We will do everything we can, and it is a good thing you brought her in so soon after the first symptoms. I am… cautiously optimistic.”

“Thank you, doctor,” he said with a relieved sigh. “Can I see her?”

“Yes, a nurse will soon be here to take you to her, but you can’t stay for long.”

Price patted him on the shoulder after the doctor left. “She’s okay. She’s gonna be fine,” he said with a supportive smile. 

Simon nodded. Yes, you were alive. And he would do whatever it took to help you recover. 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

OH BIG BRAIN IDEA-

Reverse Puss In Boots panic attack scene with Reader calming Dogday down from a panic attack, 'cause this case it's the dog that needs comforting-

"[Y/n]! Come quickly! Something's wrong with Dogday!"

Pausing in your repairs of Kissy's arm, you made sure to cut the thread before giving her an apologetic look. Fortunately, she seemed to understand that you needed to heed Poppy's call right away, and so you followed the little doll into the next room over.

There, Dogday was resting...although at this moment he was very much doing the opposite.

He was slumped against the wall, out of the makeshift dogbed you and Kissy put together for him, a hand clutching his chest--but it kept heaving, rapidly rising and falling with each labored breath.

His white pupils were completely gone, not a shred of light to be found within his sockets, and that was very alarming.

Did he see something?

Did an intruder try to get in?

While Poppy couldn't guarantee any place in the factory was safe, she did mention this area was a good place to hunker down, rest, and plan your next move against the Prototype.

But if that's the case...then what was going on with him?

You needed to find out fast.

"Dogday...what's wrong..??!"

Even though he could hear you and see you kneeling in front of him, concern written all over your face, he simply couldn't answer. He couldn't even keep his focus on you, as a whirlwind of terror and panic clouded his mind.

The only thing he could do was paw at his chest, unable to make sense of why his heart refused to stop pounding, as though it was trying to break free.

Or maybe..

It was a little Smiling Critter who stowed away inside him, trying to get out....

The more he thought about it, the worse he felt.

"I don't know what happened.." Poppy murmured to you, shaking her head. "I swear he was fine a second ago! Y-You think his organs might be shutting down? Or his hunger is-?"

"No, I know exactly what's wrong." You calmly answered, much to her bewilderment.

But before she could question you further, you moved over to Dogday's side before hugging him around the torso, squishing your cheek against his chest the moment he took his paws off of it.

And you simply waited.

The little doll had no idea how this was helping him, although she soon realized his breaths were finally starting to slow. His white pupils flickered back to life, looking down and seeing you embrace him without any regard to your own safety.

Somehow..you provided him with such a comforting weight that drowned out his panicked thoughts.

One of his trembling paws eventually came to rest atop your head, and he slowly began to pet you much like a human would pet a dog: gentle, ensuring he wasn't too rough.

After a few more moments passed, you felt his breaths even out to the point where his chest wasn't heaving like before, and he placed his paw on your back.

Finally, he spoke.

"A-Angel...thank you..I..don't know what happened.."

"It's okay." You sat up to look at him, seeing the tears threatening to spill from his sockets. "You were just having a panic attack. But it's over..you did great."

"Is..that what it was?" He murmured, confused.

"That's all it was. Do you remember what led to it?"

"...'m not sure. I was..just thinking about Catnap, and the Prototype, and suddenly I felt this strange tightness in my chest. Thought somethin' was wrong with my lungs...a-and then the room just started spinning. Next thing I knew, I...I-I couldn't breathe. I couldn't talk to Poppy or you, angel. Thought one of those wretched things was trying to eat me from the inside out. B-But..that was just all in my head, right? I'm not...nothing was-?"

"I made sure none snuck inside when I was fixing you up. You're safe from them." Taking one of his paws into your hands, you smiled, seeing Kissy walk into the room. "Catnap and the Prototype have been on all of our minds lately, and it's been...a stressful few hours."

"...I didn't mean to scare you all..usually it's me who calms people down, ya know?" He sighed quietly, still feeling guilty. "You sure I'm not going to slow you down? Because if I have another attack...i-it could be at the worst time, and then-"

"Then I'll help you through it. I made a promise to get you all out of here, and I'm sticking by that." You reassured.

Dogday looked surprised, but he relaxed his shoulders in relief, tail wagging along the floor. "Thank you, angel.."

He had his doubts before, about whether saving him from the Playhouse was more trouble than it's worth.

But now he knows you're in this for the long run, ready to help guide him out of the darkness.

[nouvxllev]

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.  

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

[jiejies-corner-store]

this cruel world

pairing. aventurine x reader tags/tw: fem!reader, pregnancy, complications with pregnancy, references to childbirth, angst w/ open ending, spoilers to aventurine's real name, mostly 2.1 spoiler free i think sfw a/n: i did not proofread this at all, but i'm playing through 2.1 and i have to keep stopping because baby aventurine is hurting my soul. might make a follow up to this pt. 2

The more you had, the more you stood to lose.

Aventurine lived his life holding onto this one fact.

“--vasha…”

So why… why did he ever aspire to gain more than he could handle to lose.

“Sir, you need to leave the room we need to stabilize her,” the nurses ushered him out of the room. The cold white lights of the hospital room made his head spin. The smell of sanitizer burned his airways. Everything was happening all at once and there was nothing he could do. He was about to crash out. He was about to lose it all.

From there it was a blur. It wasn’t until he felt a hand touch his shoulder that he even realized he’d been standing staring down at this… glass box for an hour. His neck strained but he couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

“He looks just like you,” Topaz said, joining her colleague, staring down at the small infant encased safely in the clear incubator. All sorts of things were attached to the steadily breathing Avgin child, monitoring… waiting. Just as he imagined you were at the moment. Hooked up to a hundred machines as the nurses and doctors worked to try to keep your brain alive and your heart pumping.

“I’ve… not even been able to hold him yet,” Aventurine said quietly. It was wrong. It was wrong to acknowledge his son’s existence. It was almost as if the second he did, he would lose you. A sick gamble.

Topaz broke her gaze and instead looked to Aventurine. “She’s going to be okay you know. These are the best doctors that the galaxy has to offer—”

She shut up when Aventurine had nothing to offer her except for a dejected look. After watching over the young Avgin in silence for a few more minutes, Topaz left with a simple pat on the father’s back, and left him to his thoughts.

Outside, rain poured in heavy sheets of water.

Finally, Aventurine sat down next to his newborn child and finally swaddled the child into his arms, closing his eyes as tears began to build up in them, “Welcome to this cruel world… Ilyas.”

When he opened his eyes again, an identical pair stared back in wonder.

[hanckocks-dagger]

(In other words)

masterlist

John Hancock x gn!Reader

Description: While high on Hancock's couch, you get ready to tell him you're leaving Goodneighbor tomorrow. Trouble is, the thought of kissing him just keeps distracting you.

Tags: First kiss, getting together, Hancock is a simp. Reader could be viewed as SoSu or not. No pronouns used for reader, no use off y/n

Warnings: Recreational drug use (jet), smoking, canon typical swearing.

Cross posted on my ao3!

You were leaving Goodneighbor tomorrow. Sitting idle made you antsy, and it had already been several days since the urge to wander had struck. You'd only stuck around because... well.

"You want another hit?" Hancock asked from the other end of the couch, head lolling on the back of it, dark eyes turned to yours, canister of jet held out to you.

After a long moment of consideration, your jet-addled brain working overtime to comprehend, you shook your head mutely. Hancock shrugged his shoulder and stuck the canister into his mouth.

"Fhoot-eulf," He said incomprehensibly around the spout, then pressed down on the mechanism. His whole body sagged further into the couch, somehow managing to look even calmer than he had after the last three hits of Jet. Even if ghouls really did have higher chem resistance than lowly humans like yourself, you were sure Hancock topped them all. You'd had one Jet to his four, and he'd also spent the morning working his way through a Brandy bottle, which you'd always found made your heavy-limbed high feel a little more like paralysis than a comforting buzz.

Probably a good ten seconds after Hancock had spoken, you let out a muffled, "hmm?", cheek smushed into the couch so you could keep staring at him.

Those black eyes, momentarily distracted by the Jet in his hands, turned to find yours again, crinkled at the corners. His smile, ever charming, lingered on the verge of turning mean. He did like to tease you about being a lightweight.

Instead, he leant to the edge of the couch and hooked you by your socked feet, tugging them into his lap, dragging you a few inches closer to him.

"Nothing, sweetheart."

He patted one of your knees placatingly, the way one pet a startled a horse. Or (you thought, a few painfully slow seconds later), that was to say, the way one used to pet a startled horse. Seeing as they were extinct now, or possibly mutated into something hideously unrecognizable.

Hancock's hand, warm on your knee, disappeared after a minute. Or after a few seconds, seeing as trying to keep a grasp on time on Jet was a losing game. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Ever generous, he offered you one. You nodded, but could seem to make your hand rise up to take it from him.

He grinned, placing it between his lips. You wanted to disagree with this, but your vocal chords didn't want to respond either, and no words were coming to mind anyway. Sober, you would realize these were the classic signs of the Jet comedown, that momentary disconnect between body and mind, which unnerved you enough to take a few days off before finally succumbing to Hancock's next offer.

High, though, you were left to watch as Hancock raised the lighter to the cigarette, lighting it with a deep inhale, before plucking it from his mouth and passing it over. He blew the smoke teasingly into your face, laughing when you scrunched your nose in distaste.

"All the drugs a person could need. A warm bed, semi-clean streets." He said, a new cigarette between his teeth, "Honestly, I don't know why outsiders are always badmouthing Goodneighbor. Best fucking place in the Commonwealth."

Slowly, like an overloaded computer rebooting, your body came back online. You picked the cigarette from your lips, flicked ash from the end of it, ignored the thought of how it had been in his mouth before yours.

"You might be a bit biased, Hancock."

He laughed back at you, gravelly, that mix of ghoul and smoker and just pure... him.

He had been dropping these comments increasingly over the last few days, probably picking up at your unease. It was probably why he had suggested the two of you stay up in his office getting high for the night instead of going down to the Third Rail. Crowds made you antsy, the heat from bodies and the din of echoing small talk reminding you all the more of the open, fresh air you were missing.

Hancock was clever, he knew what was coming even without you spelling it out for him. Over the months since you'd discovered Goodneighbor, you'd been crashing in the Statehouse whenever you found your way to this area of Boston, preferring it to the stifling atmosphere of Diamond City. (Or so you told yourself, the truth might be you preferred the company).

He also clearly knew some of the affinity you held for him, the way you'd let him charm you into sticking around almost a week after you'd planned to leave.

"Still," He said, "One of the better places to be, hmm? Well, as long as you stay on the Mayor's good side." He winked at you.

Yet, he was too proud to come right out and beg for you to stay.

You could always ask him what he wanted. But you worried that his answer might be enough to sway you.

"Oh yeah," You deflected instead, ignoring the spark his wink shot down your spine, ordering your traitorous heart not to beat faster. "Heard the guy's a bit of a dick."

"Oh, he's a lot worse than that," His hand snuck back onto your leg, making a slow path up your calf, "But not to pretty things like you."

It was your turn to laugh, ignoring the heating in your cheeks, ignoring the goosebumps his touch left in it's wake. "John," You said, mock scandalized, "I thought you were an intellectual. Is a pretty face really all it takes?"

He had been slowly easing closer to you, or maybe he had been pulling you closer to him. When he leant over to stub his cigarette, his shoulder brushed yours.

"'M not easy. But I'm smart enough to know that when you find something this pretty in an ugly world, you hold on tight." He'd moved in close, hand reaching your upper thigh. With the other, he plucked the cigarette from your lips, down nearly to the filter, and flicked it to the side, not breaking eye contact. You could feel his breath tickling your nose, smelling like cigarettes and the slightly metallic taste jet left in your mouth. It made you lightheaded, entire mind screaming that he was about to kiss you, finally, after months of flirting and opportunities neither one of you had taken.

Instead, though, he squeezed your thigh and pulled back, eyes trained on you, a curious glint in them, like he was watching your reaction.

For just a moment, like you were a magnet following his pull, you followed after him, hand sliding downwards as if to bring his hand back to where it had been, keep it there, keep him there.

Then, the rational part of your brain, offline since before you'd accepted that hit of Jet, kicked in, screaming at you about everything that could go wrong. Taking this from a friendship to... something more would complicate everything. You didn't have the time or the energy to spend on a relationship, you didn't want to be chained to a settlement. If word got out about your... whatever it would be, you might lose out on deals with some of the seedier members of the community, you might lose trust with others. In other places, a relationship with a Ghoul might even be enough to have you barred from entry.

But, a traitorous voice from the back of your mind whispered, none of those really mattered. The truth of it was, after everything that had happened to you, if you were to let this go any further and something were to happen to him, it would break you.

So, you pulled back, shutting your eyes and taking a steadying breath. Your hand, halfway to grabbing his, stopped and balled into a fist, dropping back to your side.

You wracked your brain for something to say, something joking to diffuse the tension and return things to the way they were.

You heard Hancock shift besides you and allowed yourself a little breath of relief, assuming he'd gotten the hint and backed off, tired of waiting for someone who chickened out at every opportunity.

Instead, though, you were surprised to find his warm hand on your cheek, felt the corner of his hat press softly against your forehead. You opened your eyes, found him looking at you, almost desperate.

"Maybe I'm wrong," he started, voice pitched low and quiet, less sure of himself than you were used to, "In which case you just tell me. But I get the feeling it ain't that. I see the way you looked at me. I know you know how I've been looking at you."

You swallowed, traitorous body responding before your mind can butt in. You nodded, hand coming to grasp onto his bicep, wanting more than anything for him to move closer, to remove the patch of air the two of you were both breathing.

"So tell me," His voice had dropped to a whisper, like he was speaking with a startled animal. "Why won't you kiss me?"

You exhaled, a shaky thing. For some reason your eyes stung, and suddenly you were fighting off the urge to cry. Your grip on Hancock's arm tightened, not wanting him to let go.

Words escaped you, but you worried he'd take your silence the wrong way. You used your free hand to move the front of his hat high enough that it wouldn't poke you and leant your forehead to his. You shut your eyes again, partly to hide the tears that you couldn't seem to stop from forming, partly to embrace the moment better.

Hancock's thumb stroked slowly across your cheekbone. He whispered your name. Worried your voice would break, you nodded against him, eyes still squeezed shut, afraid of moving from this moment, of going forward or pulling back.

Quiet, he said, "Please kiss me."

You dug down, finding the person who sleeps under the open sky of the wasteland, who fights off hordes of ferals, sneaks through Gunner camps, takes on Deathclaws and survives.

You pressed your lips to his.

Warm, softer than you had envisioned, just like the man himself. Hancock's other hand rose to your cheek, so he was cupping your face in his hands, pulling you even closer. You let him take the lead, tilting your head gently, licking against your lips. You opened your lips for him easily, your hands wrapping around the back of his neck, leaving the two of you chest to chest, you halfway in his lap as he licked into your mouth, ravenous as if he had been starving for you.

You never wanted it to end, wanted to spend every moment of the rest of your life pressed to him, feeling his hands on you, his lips on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth.

When the tears slipped out, you almost thought it wouldn't matter, thinking you could keep the kiss going, sure you would survive without breathing, so long as he didn't stop kissing you.

But then a hitching sob rose from your chest and you were pulling away despite yourself, tucking your wet face into the crook of his neck. His hands wrapped around your waist, settling you properly against him.

You swallowed any other rogue sounds, blinked rapidly to try to rid yourself of the tears, trying to pull yourself together so you could face Hancock again. One of his hands was rubbing soothingly along your back, the other having worked it's way up to your hair, gentle fingers smoothing out tangles, rubbing along your scalp.

It took longer than you would have liked to pull yourself together, and a bit longer than that to gather the courage to look at Hancock, sniffling lightly.

His smile was tight, self conscious, as if he genuinely believed you could have been crying because of his kiss.

You didn't even let him get through his dejected, "That bad, huh?" before you were spitting it out, desperate for him to understand that it wasn't his fault, "I'm leaving Goodneighbor tomorrow." You got it out fast, as if it left a bad taste on your tongue.

He blinked, insecurity fading from his expression, replaced by genuine confusion.

You continued, desperate to repair your faux-pas, to make him understand your thought process, why it would lead you to tears; "This just... makes it that much harder to go."

You ran your hand down his chest, anxiously fiddling with the stitching on his lapels, "Hanc- John, please believe me, I've been wanting to do that for fucking ages, I just-"

The gentle press of his lips against yours cut you off, a quick press of heat and then gone again. This time you did chase after him, managing to get in a peck against upturned lips before he was pulling away.

It was your turn to be confused, pulling back to look at his smiling face, wondering if all that drug use had finally fried his brain.

"That's what's got you so worried?" He asked, voice soft.

You blinked at him before giving a small nod, expecting him to tell you to just stay with him, pressure already building behind your eyes as you imagined explaining to him that you just weren't made for sitting idle.

"So, then, when do we leave?"

"We?" You whispered, not trusting your voice.

"If you're alright with delaying the departure a bit, I should probably wait for the ne'er do wells to sleep off the hangover to give a little speech, pretty sure it's bad form for the Mayor to up and vanish. Then again, it's me we're talkin' about, they should know better than to–"

You pressed your lips to his, partly from exhilaration, partly for him to shut up long enough for you to process the information he'd presented you with. You'd never considered asking Hancock to leave his town. In your mind, he was Goodneighbor, the very best of it.

You pull away, running a finger across Hancock's cheek, feeling the muscles jump under you as he gives you a soft smile.

"Are you sure?" You ask.

"Love, I'd like to see anyone try to stop me."

Notes:

Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment, or request something, or just come chat with me!

[messylxve]

love, life, and death | spencer reid x reader

content warnings: references from episode 7x23; mentions of bombs, death, fear of dying; alcohol consumption; love confessions; mutual pining; tooth rotting, heart-stopping, painful fluff

You never thought you feared death.

You faced it every day; between gruesome images of victims, talking down sociopaths with a gun and nothing to live for, and whatever else your job threw your way, you thought you had a handle on your perception of death.

But in those moments with only seconds to spare, with yours and Will’s life on the line as you struggled to disable the bomb strapped to his chest, you were forced to realize that you weren’t invincible.

It was like your brain split in two, one side trying to decipher the secret code within a code and the other half mourning over everything you never did.

You didn’t realize that list was so long.

You weren’t going to give up. You couldn’t give up. JJ needed her husband and Henry needed his father. So you pushed your brain harder and harder, as the clock ticked on and on.

And when you finally got past both timers on the bomb and fell back to sit on your legs, no words to say, you realized only one person was clouding your mind.

“You avoiding me?”

You tried to conceal your reaction to the sudden presence in front of you, but based on the smug smile slipping onto Spencer’s lips, you could guess he caught it.

You took a sip from your glass of champagne before speaking up. “What makes you think that?”

“You’ve danced with everyone else tonight,” he mused, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Even Hotch.”

You now held your glass with both hands as if it could prevent you from stepping back onto the dance floor. “That doesn’t mean I’m avoiding you, per se.”

“So then if you’re not avoiding me, you’ll dance with me?”

Spencer watched in amusement as you stammered over your words before inching over to your glass of champagne, slipping it out of your hands.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he grinned, placing the glass down carefully on the ground.

Before you knew it, you were dancing with him, your smile broad on your face and a fluttering in your stomach. The two of you mostly swayed carelessly to the beat and he’d occasionally spin you and as Penelope would laugh with you from where she stood a few feet off with Derek.

“Do you trust me,” he asked, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I think so?”

You weren’t even given a chance to question it before he suddenly dipped you, a playful shriek-turned-laugh leaving you.

“Spencer!”

His smile shone brightly, highlighting his cheeks a soft pink now. “What?”

He awaited your response, but all you had to say was spoken with your eyes. The way you looked at him was so glaringly obvious to everyone but evidently the two of you.

There was once a time where your would have upright denied any feelings you had for Spencer, explaining he was strictly a coworker, maybe a good friend at best.

At some point after that you let it slip that you did find him attractive and Penelope would never let you live that moment down.

Sometime after that, you’d had let your guard down; let yourself dwell too much into all of the things you loved about Spencer Reid. Before you knew it, you had realized you were completely and utterly infatuated with the genius.

But it wasn’t until those moments that you thought were your last did you truly allowed yourself to realize what it was you felt for Spencer.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The music slowed and with it your dancing. The two of you were close, his cheek touching yours, the hand on his shoulder moving down and closer to his heart. You found solace in hearing the steady beating of it.

“My thoughts run for at least a dime,” you joked softly.

“Well,” Spencer hummed, the felling of it vibrating under your palm. “I think Rossi can cover the difference.”

You didn’t laugh, but instead smiled and rested your chin on his shoulder, your head tilted ever so slightly towards his. “You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die?”

On a normal day, Spencer would have had some factoid of sorts for that statement, but today, he had settled on a simpler word.

“Yeah.”

A sigh escaped you as you searched for your words. “There was only one second left on that bomb.”

You swallowed thickly, moving back to look Spencer in the eye. “I never believed that you’d see your entire life summed up into a few mere seconds, but somewhere between that 15th second and the final one, I did. I kept thinking of everything I never got to do and…”

You let out a semblance of a laugh. “It was a lot…but…there was one thing I never did that I can’t believe it took me nearly dying to realize.”

Spencer’s question asked itself, just in the way he was looking at you. In the way his grip on your waist tightened by just a fraction.

“From the day I met you, you fascinated me. From way you think, and express yourself to the way you care so passionately about the people you love. And—and I wish I could say I love you the same way I love Emily or Derek or even Hotch, but I don’t. What I feel for you exceeds the definition of friendship and I used to be embarrassed for feeling so much for one person. But now…I’m only embarrassed it took me facing death to realize it.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears in your eyes until the warmth of Spencer’s touch reached your cheek, wiping them away.

He spoke your name so quietly, stricken speechless for the first time in his life, but you continue.

“I love you Spencer. I’m in love with you. And I don’t care if you feel the same way. I just can’t handle the pain of dying…and never telling you.”

Your heart now beat rapidly in your own chest, slamming on the bars that was your ribcage as you now sat there vulnerable as ever.

He said nothing at first, but instead moved forward in your hold. His hand abandoned yours and instead circled you into a hug where his head rested upon your shoulder and yours on his.

“I met you one-thousand eight-hundred and twenty-two days ago, you know.”

A shuttered breath escaped you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t until seven-hundred and thirty-two days after, that I realized I loved you though.”

You found yourself moving back from his arms, your hands settling on his chest and his on your waist.

“It wasn’t as grand of a reveal as realizing it after diffusing a bomb but…doesn’t make it any less true.”

You didn’t know what else to say, so for the first time in a long time you listened to your heart and let yourself melt into his embrace as you kissed him.

taglist: @khxna @mackannkees

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

GXHDJSJSJS I JUST READ YOUR FIC ABOUT THE MERMAN CUTIE AND OMG I LOVE LOVE LOVE RANEE (I THINK THAT"S HOW YOU SPELL THAT) HE'S JUST PERFECT😭😭😭

ANYWAYSSS, so i was thinking... what he do if reader suddenly stopped coming to kayak, because they got sick? How would he react when they finally started coming back again?

Love your works btw😉💋💖💖

Where's my Human? || Yandere Merman x Gn Kayaker Reader

Characters: Ranee

Summary: He gets so worried when you're not there to kayak

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence, stalking

A/n: Yeah that's how you spell it, I'm so happy you love him nonnie! He's my special merboy! And thank you! Also, mention of Malakai

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Let's be real, Ranee has no concept of sickness or injuries. Fin rot is the closest thing he knows, and it's only common within pet fish. There are parasites and other ocean germs, but nothing like human sickness. So if you stop showing up for a while brings up so much concern. He straight up thinks you're dead. Though it takes a bit of build up for him to actually think of that conclusion.

The first day you don't show up to the beach, he just thinks you got busy. You usually don't come to kayak every day. That's something you told him when he freaked out the first time you didn't show up. Something about sore muscles. He was too focused on you when you told him so he didn't listen.

The second day is when he becomes a bit panicked. This is the stage where he starts swimming the coastline and asking other sea creatures that swim the coast about you. When they say they haven't seen you that's when his brain starts to spiral. Ranee just swims up and down the coastline for the next couple of days, watching the beaches for any sign of you in case you moved and forgot to tell him.

Then a thought comes to his mind, much to his distaste. Ranee thought and contemplated on visiting your human friend. One reason he was against it was because your human friend was trying to take you away from him. Didn't this human know that you were his mate? Beside the point, he didn't have you to guide him out once he swims in, and he's so easily lost.

After grumbling and pacing around in his sea cave to the nearest fish who have no clue what is going on, he decides to visit your human friend. He managed to remember the way there, you better praise him if you ever come back.

He groans as he sees your human friend on his dock of his very shiny home. Malakai prepares himself for any mischief Ranee has brought today but is caught of guard by the merman talking using the limited language he has. Malakai eventually catches your name in the merman's garbled up human speak and barely catches on.

“Oh, you mean Y/n? Yeah, they're sick right now. Texted me they won't be by the docks for a few days.”

Thus leads into Malakai trying to explain what sickness is to the very confused Ranee. After a few hours of body anatomy lessons Ranee comes to the conclusion that you are in fact dying. So the merman is trying to find any way to your home only to realize you don't live near any body of water.

A few more days of your absence leaves Ranee all mopy. Just invite him to your funeral okay? He couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least part with you properly. He's slumped over on a rock, holding the things he had taken from you. He peppered each in tiny kisses. Oh, gods please hear him and give your soul back to him. That's the leas they could do for torturing you like this!

All the fish that came past his cave would swim in and nibble on his skin. Sea lions and seals alike would come in to push him out of the cave. Ranee didn't want to come out to play like he usually does. Not without you!

His life is so meaningless without you. The seals were barking at him to come out of his cave until a ray had swam over. His mopy attitude switches when he gets news from the ray that it saw you back on your kayak and was paddling out in the open. Ranee is completely overjoyed that you were back.

Swimming as fast as his fins could take him, Ranee jumps out like a dolphin and tackles you into the water. You're startled and thrashing but Ranee's cold, scaly face calms you down. You can only chuckle at the merman's clingyness.

“You don't have to almost drown me if you want my attention every time, Ranee.”

He shakes his head as his tail coils around your legs. You shiver as you're pulled closer to his cold body. No way is he letting go. You worried the hell out of him! Making him think you were dead. Bad mate! He only hits the top of your head, scolding you in grumbles.

“Never allowed, fish sticks and fries.”

You were practically an expert in Ranee talk at this point. You came to understand that he was demanding you to stay and never leave him again for that long. As much as you wanted to comply with such a request, you were going to get sick again if you didn't get out of this cold water.

Begrudgingly did Ranee help you back onto your kayak and pushes you back to shore. When you're drying off on the dock, you tell him what happen and give him a better explanation of what happened.

You're now stuck on that dock, listening to Ranee talk about what he had done while you were gone. He gurgles at your praises when he told you he swam through the harbor all by himself.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[amarauder]

peter johnson and the flying wine bottles ♆ percy jackson x reader

PAIRING; Percy Jackson x Neighbor! Reader

REQUEST; N/A

GODLY PARENT: Demeter

DATE; May 1st, 2024

WORD COUNT; 2440

WARNING; Illegal activities, aka buying alcohol illegally

A/N: IM BACK MOTHERFUCKERS. tehehe I know its been years oops. Not my best work but its here and thats all that matters to me at this point.

TRAILER; In which Percy Jackson meets his neighbor by accidentally almost killing himself and her multiple times.

REQUESTED BY: N/A

--

Percy locks up his flat, double then triple checks everything is secure. He knows it’s a little over the top to be this careful with his security system, especially since his apartment complex is in the heart of New Rome. But after everything he has been through it gives him a little peace of mind knowing he is coming back to a hopefully monster-free apartment.

Things have been weird for Percy since Annabeth left. He hasn’t exactly hit the devastated stage that everyone, including him thought would be his reaction. Instead, it’s been like he has been going through the motions. Nothing has been that bad or great, just kind of there.

Piper has concluded that he is in shock. He suspects that she’s right. It’s almost like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like Annabeth’s on a quest and he hasn’t heard from her for a few weeks and he’s a bit concerned for her well-being. But it’s been a little over two months now and Percy hasn’t felt any different.

 The only difference that Percy has felt is annoyance towards Piper. She won’t stop badgering him about meeting this girl. It’s constant, nonstop talking about how they would be perfect for each other and how Percy just needs to get back out there.

The only thing Percy needs is a break. A break from all the sympathetic stares, the hopeful girls, and gods forbid Piper. He knows that she has his best interest at heart. He appreciates it, he really does. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside whenever his friends want to do something nice for him, but this just isn’t what Percy needs or wants right now.

What Percy needs is some time with his friends and maybe some free food which is exactly why he is heading over to Leo’s for a BBQ with the gang.

Stuffing his keys into his pocket, he heads over to the elevator then promptly almost dies tripping over air. It’s then that Percy realizes that he actually hadn’t fallen over air, he tripped over what looked like either a really long root or a vine? What the Hades? How did that get there?

He goes to pick it up when he realizes there’s a girl standing there waiting for the elevator. She’s holding a wine bottle, and what looks like the biggest plant Percy has ever seen. It would explain where the weird vine-root thing came from.

“Hey,” he starts, only to be interrupted by a scream and a face full of soil.

“Oh my God!” Screeches the plant. It takes Percy a second to realize that it is in fact the girl screaming and not the plant. To be fair, Percy has seen too many outer-worldly oddities in his life, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the plant talking. “I am so sorry!”

Percy laughs and rubs dirt off his face, “Don’t be. I shouldn’t have scared you.” When he finally gets all the dirt off, Percy realizes she put the plant down. She’s pretty. Like really pretty actually. It takes Percy’s brain a second to catch up to all this new information.

She waves his apology away, “I scare way too easily. You should see me during October.”

“Halloween can get pretty spooky around here.” She tilts her head to the side in a way that remind him of a cute puppy. “Cause all the ghosts, ya know?”

Her eyes widen, “There are ghosts here?”

“Yeah, you haven’t seen them?” She shakes her head, “There’s one named Vector. He’s my favorite.”

“Why am I even surprised? My Mom is a Greek god. Of course there would be ghosts! What’s next? Flying monkeys?”

Percy’s lips quirked, “Don’t give them that idea.”

She laughed and Percy’s chest tightened. “What’s your name?”

“Percy. Yours?”

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. Did you move in recently?” Percy knows he would have noticed or remembered her.

She puts her finger next to her lips. Percy is momentarily entranced. “I think around a month ago. I just started at New Rome University.” As she was chattering on about college Percy noticed the wine bottle slowly starting to slip out of her grip. Thanks to his demigod reflexes, Percy caught the bottle just in time.

“Oh!” She said in surprise. “Thanks! I didn’t even know it was falling.”

“No worries. I got it.” The elevator dings and they both head in. College? They were about a quarter into the fall semester. “What are you studying?”

“Agriculture.”

Percy’s eyebrows rise. That was not what he was expecting.  “Cool, my best friend from home is really into plants and stuff.”

Y/N’s lips quirked, “Plants and stuff?”

Percy smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. Thankfully, he was saved from answering by the elevator. Even though he was glad he didn’t have to answer to his stupidity, Percy still felt a pang in his chest. He really didn’t want to part from her but didn’t know how to tell her that without sounding creepy. She gives him good vibes. Percy’s always loved people like that.

“Where are you headed off too?” He eventually asks after sneaking what he hopes is casual glances at her as they exit the building.

She bounces on her toes a bit, “This girl I just met invited me to their friend’s place. I’m a bit nervous to be honest. I don’t know anyone besides her.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ve loved talking to you and we’ve only just met.” Percy’s face went beet red. That was not how it was supposed to come out. “I-I mean you’ve been fun to talk to.”

They both laugh for a second, falling quiet quickly enough to make Percy feel awkward. He wishes he had more to say, if only to keep Y/N around him a little longer.

Y/N beams, “Thanks, Percy. I’m glad that I finally met someone in this apartment complex. Everyone here seems like busy bodies and never wants to talk.”

Percy shrugs. He’s noticed that too but never felt too bothered by it. Though, he isn’t the one who moved away from friends. “You get used to it. Here’s your wine bottle.” He hands her the wine bottle and Percy swears he gets déjà vu from a few minutes ago. Just as the wine bottle leaves his fingertips its soaring to the floor and crashes all over both of them. Fortunately, Percy isn’t hurt but he’s more concerned about Y/N to care.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/N puffs out she looks more shocked than anything. Percy feels like a giant idiot. First, he scares her, and Y/N’s plant almost goes flying everywhere. Then, he distracts her enough to almost drop the bottle. Now, after all of that mess he literally just fucks it all up. What are the odds?

It seems Y/N read his mind because she starts to giggle, “I think the Gods just don’t want me to bring wine today.”

As soon as they clean up the mess they head out. Percy had almost cut himself on the glass once or twice but he couldn’t complain much. He had been through worse things than a cut. Both of them had mumbled to each other the entire time about Why the Gods had decided the third time was the charm but decided against mentioning anything else as Y/N still had her plant to carry the rest of the way.

Percy only wishes that Mr. D was here to witness this. He could practically hear the “Peter Johnson!” from New Rome.

“Where are you headed too?” Y/N questions as they both come to a complete stop outside the building.

“To buy you a new wine bottle.” Percy says gesturing with his head towards town. He knows he’ll be late to Leo’s thing, but he can’t really bring himself to care. Percy also knows that Leo, out of all people, will be understanding especially if he mentions a girl.

“What?” Y/N says and grabs his arm, effectively stopping him. “No way. I am not allowing you to buy me a new wine bottle. I was the one who dropped it.”

Percy will admit that it was mostly her fault. It had been in her hands when the accident occurred. But Percy was first and foremost Sally Jackson’s son and if Sally taught him anything it was how to be polite to a pretty girl. “I was the one handing it to you.”

Y/N crosses her arms and shakes her head stubbornly. “No way, Percy! I am not allowing you to buy me one. I’ll buy my own and be on my way.”

“Fine but at least let me walk you to the wine store.” Y/N seems to consider this as her eyebrows scrunch a little less but she still doesn’t uncross her arms. She seems to agree nonverbally since she starts to walk with him.

“So, Do you know Mr.D?”

“Who?”

“Mr.D,” Percy confirms, “Dionysus? Camp Half-Blood’s camp director?”

“Oh,” Y/N murmurs, “I’ve heard of him from my friend, but I’ve never been to Camp Half-Blood.”

“Did you go to Camp Jupiter then?”

She shakes her head. Percy is officially confused. Where did she grow up then? How did she stay away from monsters? “I’m lost. Were you at home then?”

“For some reason, I never really got into trouble with monsters. Sure, weird stuff would happen to me throughout the years but my teachers would just put it off as overactive imagination. It wasn’t until my high school graduation that a monster came after me and my Dad finally brought me here. Next thing I know I’m enrolled at New Rome with my own apartment. What about you?” She questions innocently.

Percy huffs out a laugh. Oh, where to start. He settles on a simple, “I grew up at Camp Half-Blood.”

Y/N nods mutely. It gets a little awkward for a second and Percy wishes he paid a little more attention to his Mom’s rom-com movies. He’s never met a girl like this before. The only other girl he had ever been interested in was Annabeth and they had been friends forever before they even started dating. He was treading new waters.

Fortunately, they turned the corner and the wine store was a few steps away. “There it is,” Percy said and pointed. He was starting to feel nervous and he didn’t know why. Y/N went to open the door, but Percy beat her to it.

She turns around with a teasing smile on her face, “Thanks, Percy. So, want to tell me if your legal or not?”

It takes Percy a second to realize what she is talking about. Oh, buying alcohol. “Yeah, I’m 21. How old are you?”

“19.”

Oh. Oh. Percy shrugs, he’s certainly not one to shy away from illegal adventures. (A/N: DO NOT DRINK ILLEGALLY KIDDOS. NOT COOL AT ALL.) That would just be hypocritical.

Y/N heads over to the wine section and Percy follows after her like a lame, lost puppy. He needs to start acting a little cooler.

“White or red?” Percy asks.

“Champagne.” She answers immediately, with no hesitation. Alright, champagne it is. That’s a little too fancy for Percy’s taste. He’s more of a red Josh man but to each their own. He likes his six-dollar wine, thank you very much. Judgement is not tolerated within this household.

“Perfect” she says and grabs the champagne before making a beeline to the counter. Percy races after her digging for his wallet. He was not about to let her pay. He finally fishes it out of his pocket and waits for the man to check her out.

While Percy is waiting, he can’t help but admire her. She chatters away to the man as he looks over what Percy is assuming her fake ID. Making small talk in a way Percy never could.

The man gives it back to her and rings her up, “19 dollars and 75 cents, ma’am.”

Percy is quick to give his card to the dude. The cash register guy sighs and Y/N looks appalled. “No way. I am paying for it, Percy!”

He gently nudges her out of the away and hands the card over to him. He rolls his eyes, “I don’t care which one of you is going to sugar-mama the other. But whoever pays I have to see some ID.”

Percy digs in his pocket for his identification and hands it over. The man’s eyes widen, he looks at the picture then back to Percy. “You’re Percy Jack-“

“Yup,” Percy interrupts. He isn’t self-centered enough to think that Y/N has heard of him before but just in case, Percy wants to keep that information to himself for now.

The man’s demeanor instantly changes now that he knows who he is cashing out. “Have a good rest of your day!” He yells cheerily after him. When they head out, Percy can hear him whisper-yelling to his coworker about who he just checked out.

Y/N looks a little alarmed at the situation, especially probably the way Percy rushed her out. “What was that about?”

“Nothing” Percy waves her away. “That guy was just” He hesitates, “Weird.”

She makes a face, “Yeah, he really was. I can’t believe we did it though! I have never used my fake before.”

Percy takes a step back, “What? How did you get the wine from earlier then?”

“Oh, my Dad bought that for me.” Percy scoffs, Sally would be disappointed to find out that he was anywhere near alcohol. The thought fills him with a little guilt. She smiles and Percy’s chest hurts a little. This is where they say goodbye he realizes. “Well, it was really nice to meet you, Percy. I’m glad the Gods made our paths cross.”

He grins, “Me too, Y/N. I’ll see you around.”

“Bye, Percy.”

As Percy heads over to Leo’s place, he realizes how fast his heart is pounding and he can’t stop smiling. Somehow, he knows it’s not from their illegal adventure.

[worldlxvlys]

one choice

part 6 of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of sex, cursing

a/n -> hope u like <33

read the previous part for context !!

MATT’S POV

when my eyes fluttered open, i was immediately met with a pillow that wasn’t mine. i knew this pillow though, and those sheets.

i had forgotten where i was momentarily, until i looked over and saw her. her eyes were closed, lips parted slightly while she slept peacefully.

she looked angelic, the soft rays of the sun seeming to make her glow. she moved around in her sleep last night, leaving her barely covered by her blanket.

i couldn’t help but let my eyes wander her body, taking in every feature. her smooth skin was littered with dark marks all over, and the blanket left little to the imagination. before i knew it, i was hard again.

it took everything in me to fight the urge i had to take care of it right there next to her. what would she think if she woke up to me jerking myself off to her sleeping form?

oh my god, what was gonna happen when she woke up? she would want to talk about what this meant for us, but i couldn’t handle that.

what if this was a one time thing? what if she wanted nothing to do with me after this ? did i fuck up our friendship? i had to get out of there.

i got up quickly and quietly, careful not to make any noise while i got dressed. when i was done, i pulled her blanket over her so she was fully covered. i looked around for a pen and paper to leave her a note, as i didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

ok, she has nothing to write a note with. i’ll just leave her a text.

well i could have done that, if i had realized i completely forgot my phone in her room before i left. i didn’t make this realization, however, until i had gotten back home.

so not only did she think i was the type of guy to fuck and dip, but i also couldn’t avoid the conversation that i was running from in the first place.

it’s not that i never wanted to talk about it, i just wasn’t ready for our friendship to change yet.

was running away the best way to handle the situation? definitely not, but i only had so much time to decide what to do before she woke up.

so basically, my overthinking ended up screwing me over. doesn’t it always ?

what was wrong with me? this was the girl who made me feel safe and loved, and now i couldn’t even talk to her. how did i manage to fuck up this badly?

one choice. one choice stemming from my fantasy-filled thoughts is all it took. and the decision i made last night led to more poorly made choices. choices that i wouldn’t have made had my brain not been corrupted by her.

her face, her smell, those perfect little moans that fell off her lips, she had a way of making me ignore every logical thought that my brain produced. i was so desperate to finally have her in the way i’d only dreamed about for years.

now if i didn’t fix this, i wouldn’t have her in any way.

———

READER’S POV

when i woke up, matt was gone. the spot where he had slept next to me was cold, meaning he hadn’t been there for a while.

for a second, i questioned whether last night was even real. had i really fallen so deep into my delusions that i started to believe them? i found the thought to be worrisome, but i tried not to dwell on it as i got up and made my way to the bathroom.

when i caught a glimpse of the hickeys decorating my skin i felt relief wash over me. i wasn’t going crazy. just as quickly as it came, the relief was replaced with a new feeling; embarrassment.

i seriously let myself think that he would want something more. hell, he marked me like he did. but he didn’t treat me like i was his best friend, he treated me like i was a one night stand.

maybe he had a valid reason for leaving. i tried to talk myself out of the rabbit hole of assumptions i was about to go down, and picked up my phone.

once a few hours had passed without him returning my texts or calls, i knew. he was done with me, he had to be. why else would he just leave without warning and ghost me?

i should’ve know this was going to happen, people always leave me in the end. it just never occurred to me that matt could be just like everyone else.

——

MATT’S POV

when i got to her house, i let myself in using the key she had given me. “y/n?” i called her name, not receiving an answer.

i pulled out the ice cream i had bought her on the way to her place, putting it in the freezer for her.

when i got to her room, she happened to be fresh out of the shower. she wore nothing but a towel, her eyes widening when she saw me.

“matt?” she asked before rushing over to me, pulling me into a tight hug. the water droplets that coated her skin soaked into my t-shirt, but all i could focus on was the fact that she was in my arms.

i inhaled the scent of her fruity body wash, eyes falling shut as i rubbed her back soothingly.

she then pulled away, smacking me upside the head with her heavy hand. “don’t do that again matt, i thought i scared you off. i thought you hated me- i thought i lost my best friend”

i cupped her cheek gently, “i could never hate you, and i’m not going anywhere. i was just overwhelmed, but i shouldn’t have just left life that. i’m sorry, i was gonna leave a note, but then i couldn’t find anything to write with. and i was gonna text you but i left my phone here and-”

“matt, it’s ok. i’m just glad that you’re here now” she whispered. “but there’s nothing to be scared of, i mean- last night was just the heat of the moment, right? i mean, it had to be, why else would you leave like that” she whispered the last part to herself.

shit. this was the problem, i didn’t know what the night before was.

i didn’t know what i wanted, and i didn’t want to hurt her in the process of figuring it out. what i did know, was i wasn’t going to lose her because i got greedy. so, i decided i would figure it out later, but for now: “yeah, that’s all it was”

“so, we’re good?” she asked. “we’re good” i confirmed.

“good. then i’m gonna get dressed and then we can watch something?” she posed the last part of the sentence as a question.

“yeah, and i brought you ice cream” i told her, watching her face light up at the news. “wow, you thought you really messed up, huh?” she asked as she grabbed her clothes to change into.

“i did really mess up, but i won’t do anything like that again” i told her. she just smiled at that letting out a quick, “i know” before moving to go back into her bathroom.

“wait, you’re seriously going into another room to get changed? did you forget how we spent last night together?” i joked. admittedly, it was probably a little too soon to crack jokes like that.

“last night never happened” she spoke before closing the door.

shit, why did that sting a little?

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[jeongheart]

03:45 am

summary: late night snack run with chan.

w.c: 1.2k

tags: established relationship, fluff.

a.n: chan in the newest code ruined my brain, he's just so boyfriend coded.

as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes. leave your thoughts if you like, it means a lot.

You've tossed and turned more times than you can count in the last half hour, the clock impassively marking 03:45 am with its big red numbers. You sigh tired and put the device back on the nightstand to turn around once more; the bed was warm on your side because you been lying in the same spot for hours. You touched Chan's side, it was frozen and with the sheets in place.

With a slight groan due to the sudden movement of your muscles you got out of bed, you didn't bother to wrap yourself up and you dragged your feet across the room towards the living room, you knew exactly where your partner was at this time and, after drinking water, you went in search of him.

The study door was locked, so as not to disturb and not be disturbed. The house was completely silent, except for the faint sound of keys being pressed and papers falling to the floor from time to time.

You gently knocked the door to announce your presence, and a few seconds later, you made yourself present in the room. Chan was hunched in front of the computer, his nose was so close to the monitor that for a second you feared that the fluorescent colors would end up engulfing him, taking him to a world of musical tracks to be arranged.

Around him was all kinds of garbage, except for food wrappers, you could imagine that it had been a long time since he eaten anything and you shook your head as you approached his figure. He always had that bad habit, nothing else existed when he worked; no matter how many times you told him it seemed like your words went in one ear and out the other.

When you were almost two centimeters away, you realized that he had his headphones at full volume, an unreleased song was playing loudly and surrounding everything around him, that's why he hadn't heard the door before and hadn't greeted you when you walked in. Between the darkness of the room, the loud music and his concentration he almost seemed to be absent.

Not wanting to scare him, you put your hand on his shoulder, he didn't flinch from your touch until you put a little more force in your grip. Finally returning to the real world, he took off his headphones to leave them on the table in front of him and looked you straight in the eye.

His eyes were a little red after so many hours of watching screens, and his expression danced between confusion and exhaustion.

"What are you doing?" He asks you in a whisper.

Taking your hand off his shoulder, you moved it up to his face, caressing his cheek gently. Chan unconsciously relaxed and placed all the weight of his body on your hand, still looking at you.

"I couldn't sleep" You answer simply.

Chan laughed softly, a clear sign of his exhaustion, and with his right hand he took yours (which you weren't using to caress his face) and guided you to his lap, you let out a little cry of surprise at the sudden change of position but you let him accommodate you to his liking.

When you were comfortably seated, Chan hugged your waist with both arms and rested his head on the space between your neck and your shoulder, where upon feeling the smell of your shampoo and your perfume he sighed happily and finally closed his eyes. You kept busy those seconds playing with his hands that were still tightly gripping the lower part of your body.

You could feel his breath against your neck, he was freezing and you still had the heat of the sheets on you.

"Let's go out for a little bit" You told him when you felt his breathing become heavier. Chan let out something similar to a growl, you didn't know if he heard you or had already fallen asleep.

"It's late" You almost couldn't understand what he said, his lips were so close to your skin that the sound was almost lost.

You moved your head a little to make him pay attention to you, your heart sank a little when you saw how a small hint of sadness crossed Chan's expression for taking him out of his comfortable position against you. "I'm hungry and you need to stretch your legs, besides, how long has it been since you've eaten something?"

Chan looked away at the question, and there you got your answer. "I have to finish, love" He made a gesture to lift you from his lap and return the chair to its place in front of the computer to resume his work.

"Ten minutes, a bit of fresh air will do you good" You grabbed his face with both hands so he couldn't look away or question you, you were like this for few seconds; just staring into each other's eyes. You could feel how Chan's face was starting to heat up from the closeness and, letting out a nervous giggle, he nodded his head.

You laughed and kissed him on the tip of the nose "Don't forget to bundle up".

The walk to the convenience store was relatively short, Chan was telling you details about the work he been doing so far and how proud he was of how everything was turning out. You listened attentively, excited by his happiness and without letting go of his hand in the ten blocks it took to get to the store.

The automatic door greeted you with its characteristic sound, as did the worker behind the counter who offered you a warm smile despite the late hour and the cold January air that swept in with you. "What do you want to eat?" Chan began to drag you through the corridors of the place in search of whatever and anything to fill his stomach.

You followed him closely as he went through each shelf with the initiative of a small child, showing you package after package full of colors no matter what it was (salty, sweet, bittersweet), unable to decide what to finally buy. You laughed when you saw that he placed each package that caught his attention in the cart you were pushing, his work and the deadlines already forgotten by the promise of eating delicious things.

After a few more minutes of indecision, you finally made it to the checkout to pay for the items. The cashier laughed seeing the various items you carried (from spicy noodles to coconut ice cream to cheese sticks). Chan ended up paying for the purchases even though you insisted that you could separate the bill, he simply ignored your speech and took the three bags full of food while you followed him out of the store, reproaching him for his actions.

"I'm not listening, I'm made of wood, I have fish ears~" Your partner crooned as he began the walk back to the apartment, you rolled your eyes and decided that it was a hopeless case so you had to accept your defeat.

"Next time I'll pay" You told him as you took one of the bags he was carrying to take his hand instead, you didn't know what time it was but you didn't care at that moment. Chan was laughing out loud (so much that you were afraid that he would wake up the people who were sleeping in the houses on the side of the road) and he looked more relaxed; a fond smile appeared on your face and you squeezed your partner's hand tightly.

"Thank you for getting me out of the house, and from my own head, love. You were right, I needed it" Chan stopped walking to press you against his body and envelop you in a warm hug, you breathed in his aroma and let his presence envelop you completely.

[conditioned-to-obey]

I have a confession. First time i came across one of your posts i remembering thinking what u posted was gross and crossing the line between kink and just being a terrible person then scrolled. Second time i went through your blog just a bit then exited. Third time i was wet but refused to accept it. And then a few other times after i touched myself and came to your posts. What confuses me the most is that I saw you were into edging but the idea never appealed to me and i never edged before so i just ignored the posts about it, but today when i was going through your blog again i was so close then i came across one of your posts about how i should deny myself and edge and thats exactly what i did, i denied myself that orgasm and i haven’t allowed myself since.

Idk how to feel about the fact that you’ve slowly conditioned me to obey but i can’t lie and say it doesn’t make me feel so good. Very fitting name btw xx

That is just the beauty of fantasy and play, isn't it? Listening to your cunt, finding out what you may or may not enjoy. If it enhances your pleasure? Good. If it doesn't? Take what does and disregard the rest. There is plenty of time to start small and work up to understand ourselves better.

Interesting enough, one of my pets wound up on the same path to discovery you did. With a very similar narrative. At first, disgust, disdain, repulsion. Then morbid curiosity, dark excitement, lingering thoughts. Finally, an undeniable throb. That melty tinglingly heat between her legs that led her fingers to slip below the blanket. To tease her swollen clit and try what she had been reading about. To rub to what had disturbed her. After all, it can't hurt to just try, right?

And so she edged...and edged...and edged. Needless to say, she learned something new that night. The rest, as it stands, is history. Corruption at its finest.

You see, it's when you realize that nothing else makes you cum as hard. How much simpler and easier things are when your brain is broken. When you accept it. That is when you start to realize the predicament in which you find yourself.

A trained puppy. With a drooling, dripping cunt.

Conditioned to obey.

[zo3mess]

Too Bad At Goodbyes | Part 3 to Bitter-Sweet

Summary: Officers from other towns were reassigned to help the understaffed police force in Evergreen after the butterfly massacre. The good old game of cat and mouse begins with Vigilante continuing his shenanigans and one police officer determined to catch him. Except it is not entirely clear who is chasing whom.

Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it, you know that all too well), handjob, oral (reader receiving), edging, tits worship, hint of sadism?, knife play (to some extent), handcuffs, theft of panties mentioned, enemies become lovers (Who would have thought), female reader, no Y/N

Minors do not interact

Word count: 6.4k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Extra songs for this fic

Masterlist of my works

Note: This is the final part, guys. I’m sorry it took so long to write, but my brain was completely dead after 2 seminar works I had to write last second. Long live the procrastination! Anyway, I hope you will like this and once again thank you for every interaction on any of my posts, I love you all <3

Day after day, week after week, you were slowly but surely realizing you might have overestimated your abilities. You believed you had the guts to catch villains like Joker or Mad Hatter, even your family and friends encouraged you. And you believed their words, you believed yourself. Leaving your town and heading to Evergreen as some sort of bridge to your goal. However this? This wasn’t what you thought it would be like.

Doing minor police work, failing miserably all the time, having a weird relationship with the one person who would get you a ticket to your dream. Hells, you were in charge of fetching take-out every Friday for your coworkers, like a dog playing fetch.

Your office decided on Fennel Fields this time, the most distant restaurant from the precinct.

The noise in the restaurant had been overwhelming, voices chattering all over, glasses clinking, utensils scraping plates, until one guy managed to drown out everything with a simple question “Anything else I can help you with?”

Wait a minute…

You know that voice, you’ve heard it somewhere, no? But where? One simple look at the source and gears in your mind started turning. It was the busboy asking some family a few tables away from you. Nothing out of the ordinary, maybe you misjudged it.

And then the guy turned. Smiling at his coworker that just passed by him with an awkward ‘hey’. That smile. Dimples. Brown hair poking from under his hat. And most importantly two small hickeys just under his jaw he clearly did not care enough to cover in any way.

That’s curious, you left similar marks on Vigilante a few days ago, when you had another run-up with him late at night. He tugged you behind a dumpster and kissed you like a man possessed. And you were feeling bold enough to suck on his tender skin for the first time.

At first, it wasn’t a plan to mark him up, so you can by chance recognize him in public. You marked his neck for him. Eventually, he would tug off his mask, become a normal citizen again, but the prize he got as Vigilante would stay. He would remember you even after the morning sun rose.

Oh dear God…

A smile dropped from your face, eyes widening in disbelief. And you just could not stop staring. As you watched him leave to refill the water pitcher, every noise quieted down.

Vigilante.

That guy was Vigilante. He must have been. What a weird accident would that be, right? Right?

He seemed so sweet though, bright eyes were shining under wire-framed glasses. He looked all shy and nerdy. Fennel Fields busboy could not be the one killing criminals under the moonlight and drawing hearts with blood for you.

“Cash or card?” The cashier’s voice interrupted your inner monologue when he put your take-out in front of you.

“Card, please. Uhhhh…” You squinted at the nametag and continued, “Tyler? Could you do something for me?”

It was not hard finding out the busboy’s name, all that needed to be done was to battle your lashes and sweetly ask the cashier. That guy was more than happy to provide the name of his least favorite coworker. The good old sabotaging in work, how lovely.

So… Adrian Chase. The poor boy is either an unlucky victim of your search or he is Vigilante. Chances were not even 50/50, you were sure. Almost sure. Like 70/30 in your favor.

Finding his address was even easier. God bless the police database. You ought to pay him a visit. By now you knew Vigilante had a habit of going out on Friday night, leaving a fresh new corpse to bask in the morning sun most of the time. Meaning that if you, by any chance, knocked on Chase’s door, he would not be home.

Around 10 p.m. you arrived at the apartment complex where Vigilante was supposed to live. With unsure steps, you made your way through the staircase, stopping once you saw the apartment number you’ve got written on a piece of paper.

However, knocking and neither ringing the bell resulted in open doors. As far as you could tell with ear pressed against the door, no movement was possible to be heard inside.

You could not get discouraged, you were too far to stop. Another plan was the fire escape stairway leading around the building. You sneaked around until you found his living room window, relatively hard task to locate the right apartment. With a quick look, you knew he wasn’t at home. Maybe if you tried to open the window…

Bingo!

For a guy bragging about how he crawled through your open window, he didn’t care enough about locking up his. You carefully crawled into the dark room and a thought passed by that this is so wrong.

But you’re already there, might as well look around to confirm your suspicion.

Cliché of villains living in the lair was wrong this time. His apartment looked well-kept, almost too normal. With a quick rummage you found out he kept knives and guns around, tucked away under the coffee table in the living room, in a cupboard next to cereal in the kitchen. Vigilante’s paranoid.

When you entered his bedroom, the last and only room you had no chance to search, you immediately noticed the peculiar mess. For his respectively clean apartment, his bedroom gave the impression that it was blown out by a bomb. Clothes on the floor, as well as empty water bottles and candy wrappers, messed up bed covers, half completed Lego set scattered over the floor.

A familiar object caught your attention in all that clutter. A piece of lacy blue cloth lying on the floor, oh you knew what it was in an instant. You pocketed it and headed back to the living room, stretching out on his couch. How ironic.

And you waited and waited, losing the track of time, clock was ticking, cars speeding outside, it almost lulled you to sleep. Then all of a sudden you heard the rattling of keys outside of the front door. Bang of doors being shut. Footsteps in the hall. And finally, the living room doors swung open.

It was your time to scare him in his own home. How the tables turned.

“Jesus-“ Adrian all but jumped. Even though he found it weird you weren’t skulking around the streets looking for him, he would have never guessed you would be standing in the middle of his apartment instead. Now you were even at last.

He was not wearing his suit and it took you aback for a split second. If he wore it you would be 100 % sure he was Vigilante, this way there was still some space for doubts. But the way his eyes got stuck on your frame gave him away.

In case you misguessed your deduction and he was, in fact, a normal guy, he would have looked far more shocked, scared even, since a stranger was walking around his apartment. But this look? Oh you knew this look all too well.

“Adrian Chase. It is a pleasure to meet you,” You kept your voice friendly, with an equally complimentary fake smile. “I hope you don’t mind me visiting you. After all, you have been in my house several times and you never invited me to yours.”

“What? No? I’ve never- I have never been in your house. Stranger.” He stuttered right off the bat, that was adorable.

“Stranger? Come on, Vigilante. Don’t lie.”

“Vigilante? I have no idea who that is and even if I did, I have no idea how you might think that I am him. Or her. Or them.”

“I just find it curious you have a familiar hickey on your neck. I left one like this on Vigilante myself.” You never thought you'd find out his secret identity like that, and neither did he, otherwise he wouldn’t let you bite his neck.

“These? Those are not hickeys,” He pointed at his neck and shook his head a little too fast to appear calm “I had an accident”

“Let me guess, you fell on someone’s lips?”

“Happens more often than you’d think.” Ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous.

“Mhhmm, sure.” You fought an emerging smile so hard. You had this idea of confronting him sternly, confidently, and most importantly with a totally cool attitude. That plan was falling apart, whether it was from the happiness of finding out who Vigilante was or his dumbstruck expression, did not matter at the end of the day.

“And this…” From your pocket, you pulled out a bunched-up piece of cloth. Lace panties in the signature teal color. “You have no idea how my underwear got into your bedroom, right?”

“Those are… Mine?” You wondered how this guy never gave away his big secret. He has been living double life for so long and yet he never learned how to lie properly.

“Just because you stole them doesn’t mean they belong to you,” It was a perfect trap. You knew some perverse side of Vigilante would not resist stealing your stuff, especially if it was in the colors of his suit “I bought them specifically to catch you in the act and kept them on top of my drawer. In case they disappeared I would know you were in my house again, rummaging through my stuff.”

“I’m not some pervert that steals panties.” He dramatically gasped and put his hand on the chest to be a tad more theatrical. You completely dismissed his defensive words.

“Give up, Vig. I got you.” Such a bold statement. You knew who he was now, that wouldn’t stop him from killing you right there on the spot, since your goal was to put him behind bars. Would he be able to sleep peacefully if he truly got rid of you? Even if it was for the ‘greater good’ and protecting his identity?

“Are you here to arrest me?” After a beat of silence, he spoke with uncertainty and you weren’t able to pinpoint the emotion that washed over his face.

A triumphant smile dropped from your face with the question. Were you? You had handcuffs in your jacket, all this time they were waiting to be put on his wrists.

But was it what you truly wanted?

“Adrian Chase, Vigilante, you are under arrest.”

His confused face was everything. Every millisecond it lasted was golden. Truth be told every grimace he made was making you happy. You could see his whole face and that was priceless. But aside from his bedazzlement, his lack of resistance was something you had not expected. He simply stood there, turning his back on you and putting his hand behind his back without hesitation.

Adrian knew he was running around on borrowed time. One way or another, today or tomorrow he would be caught or killed. Of course, he prayed that day would never come, but if Vigilante should end, should be caught, he was glad it was you. He would gladly rot in jail with peace of mind if he knew you had fulfilled your dream and made it to Gotham.

“What for?” He asked with a sigh and flinched when the cold metal handcuffs wrapped around his wrists.

“Multiple counts of murder, assault, breaking and entering, obstruction of police work and personally I would like to add theft.” Quite a long list of crimes and misdemeanors.

“What did I steal? Aside from your lingerie?”

“My dignity. My pride. My mind. My-“

“Heart?” He peeked over his shoulder, but it wasn't his usual goofy smile that was distracting you. It was his eyes. He looked right into your soul and searched for answers you didn’t even know you had.

Quiet so loud it almost deafened you. You had no words suitable for a swing back. Instead, you tugged Adrian by his cuffed hands and he obediently backed in your steps all the way to the couch, where you pushed on his shoulders as a sign to sit down.

He did so with such a stoic expression it made your mind wonder what was he feeling. Regret? Sadness? Rage? Admiration perhaps? After all, you found him on your own without the need to snatch his mask like you tried the first time he made his presence known in your own house.

Only heavy breathing filled the room, temperature growing hot with Adrian’s burning gaze. Did it make your cold heart melt or was it already soft when you saw him for the first time without his mask? And did his eyes always pierced your skin with such cruel intention or was it just because he was afraid for his future?

Goddamn the things he made you do.

You found your favorite position on his lap again, straddling him in a hurry before the logical part returned to take hold.

You pressed an open-mouthed kiss on his neck, just under his jaw. After so many make outs you finally got a chance to kiss his pretty neck properly as his collared suit wasn’t an obstacle now.

Adrian saw it the same way, he had waited long enough to feel your warm lips caress his skin once more.

And right here and there he knew you had gone soft for him. He could not control himself and bucked his hips up to yours with an eager whimper.

“It was only a kiss.” His reaction made you chuckle. Power rushed over your body, now that you knew how sensitive he was to your touch.

“Are you quoting Mr. Brightside?” His head cocked to the side with a cheery smile. You wonder what is going on inside his head all the time. Probably a cymbal-banging monkey and Wii music playing in the background. Or in this case, his brain might be playing Mr. Brightside.

“Why would I be?”

“Your voice cracked a little, I thought you were about to sing the rest.” His smile was contagious, you could not help but grin at him in retaliation.

“You’re handcuffed and can’t move, if I started singing it would be officially considered torture.” He deserved to be tortured though, at least a little bit. For all the trouble he caused you, for making you doubt your intentions.

“But you sing for me so prettily. Especially when I stuff you full of my cock. I’ve been hearing your moans in my head for days after our first time. Shit, I had to jerk off all the ti-“ Before he could chatter further you pressed a palm over his mouth. Does this guy ever shut up?

You bowed back to his neck, continuing your work of peppering kisses over his throat, biting and sucking from time to time. But Adrian kept firing words against your hand, every thought he wanted to share with you was muffled and lost.

The other hand slid from his chest down to his jeans. He looked so alien like this. You imagined his face all the time, but he always had his suit. This time he wore simple everyday clothing and it felt wrong in the weirdest way possible.

Palming his bulge through his pants was not enough for Adrian, whines buzzed against your palm more frequently, hips chasing your touch, if he had his hand free you were sure he would be pawing at you in an instant.

You granted him freedom of speech because your hands had more important task than silencing him. Freeing him from the confines of his jeans. Unbuckled, unbuttoned, unzipped in milliseconds. So fast he lost the words.

Two fingers were shoved into his mouth, his glassy eyes looked up to you with shock. “Suck.” You told him sternly and he wasted no time to obey. Tongue swirling around your digits was a bit distracting, despite his eagerness you managed to shove down his boxers and let his dick spring free against his stomach.

He looked so pretty like this. Unable to move his hand, unable to talk, red and throbbing cock already spilling precum and the brightest eyes pleading for anything you were willing to give him. If anyone told you this is how your rivalry with Vigilante would end, you might have been nicer to him from the start.

Properly wet fingers were pulled out from his mouth and made their way down. Wrapping around him, stroking slowly but tightly, smearing the saliva all over his length. His eyes silently pleaded for more, but his mouth had trouble forming the words.

“Can I suck your tits?” The attitude of that man.

“Wow, so straightforward.” Most of the time you two were together, clothes covered your bodies. You’ve felt his dick more than you’ve seen it. The fact he was now asking for more of your body just turned you on more.

“You’re the one to talk. You come to my apartment, handcuff me and go straight into jerking me off.” He explained with a strained voice and his eyes flickered down to your hand.

“And snappy.” You grinned at him some more before you removed your hand from him, just to unbutton your shirt and shift the cups of your bralette to the side.

Adrian licked his lips once he saw your breasts spill free, barely blinking, not daring to break the gaze he held with your nipples. After his brain finally realized what was before him, he latched his mouth onto you. Licking, sucking, biting. 

Your hand returned to his cock, settling on a nice steady pace that made him groan against your skin, while you, yourself, softly moaned out. It had been too long since someone paid such attention to your chest.

He lapped at your nipples with ferocity, switching from one to another. Tongue drawing circles, teeth pricking the sensitive skin. He was seconds away from straight up motorboating your tits.

Adrian chased your touch, whining and wriggling when you moved your hand faster and faster. So desperate to touch you he had to chase his need away by digging nails into his palms.

Your focus was lacking due to a hungry mouth sucking on your chest, but it did not take a genius to notice the change in demeanor. Eyes tightly shut, breath shaking, needier moans. He was close to bursting in your hand.

“Motherfucker!” He yelled out in frustration when you snatched your hand away and his release with it.

“That’s not nice.” God bless your sarcastic tongue, it drew out the worst in him and what was there not to love than seeing a riled-up man pouting and squirming.

“Sorry, babe, every nice word leaves my mind when I see your face.”

Fingers latched on his face, squishing his cheeks with one hand, tilting his head directly to you. A warning to play nice. But when you saw the realization in his eyes, you kissed the pout formed on his inviting lips.

“Uncuff me,” He demanded with a bratty frown. “Uncuff me and I’ll show you something better than nice words.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it either, you’re mean to me, but here we are.” Did he really just tell you that you don’t deserve it? He just played the same card against you with no shame whatsoever.

Not a single word was said when you stood up from his lap, not even an objection or whine from Adrian when you left him in the living room and with a sway of your curves made your way to the bedroom. You were sure that horndog wouldn’t resist running after you with hands still handcuffed. To your surprise, he didn’t even trip over his own legs when he caught up with you entering the messy room.

After all, you were merciful and quite frankly curious. He promised you something and wanted to get it. So when he awkwardly stood before you, watching you with puppy eyes, how could you resist granting him the freedom he craved.

“Strip,” He said sternly and rubbed his wrists while you were putting away your restraints, but the sharp look you gave him made his voice soften. “Please."

Both undressing while the other watched every move, every piece of clothing being dumped on his already untidy floor. Once you stood there revealed to him, except for your underwear, and Adrian to you, there was no doubt your heart stopped for a second.

Vigilante was a real person…

You could touch him, run your fingers across his chest, into his hair, and he wouldn’t disappear. You knew it before of course, but the true realization hit you the moment you saw his bare skin. Littered with a few small scars, bullet wounds, and fresh bruises ranging from blueish purple to faded yellow.

One of the most beautiful paintings you have ever seen. As most of the masterpiece, this one was also created with madness. Hand in hand with lunacy, paranoia and often a crippling sadness.

There always was and always will be a profound beauty in tragedy. All of this was your tragedy. A story of ambitious woman fighting her way through to success, just to have rug swept under her feet and knocked down by a crazed man.

Maybe you did not find what you initially looked for, success and glory in the work field, but you’ve found something else. A long lost piece. You were fitting together like a puzzle that was finally given a chance to create a bigger picture. Something achingly beautiful.

It seemed Vigilante didn’t have similar thoughts stopping him from doing anything, soon he was on you again. Cradling you in searing hold and kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Maybe he was afraid you would disappear too, he had to make sure to burn the softness of your body to his mind. The addiction of skin to skin, heart to heart.

Shortly after he stole your breath straight from lungs you found yourselves lying on his bed. Little shakes of excitement accompanied by growing anticipation.

He crawled on top of you like a predator. He got his prey all sprawled out, tense, ready to jump out of its skin, yet ready to jump his bones a second he allowed it. The wandering mind naturally remembered something else, resting in the upper drawer.

Adrain reached across you and started digging through the mess in the nightstand. Baring his pearly whites with a winning smile.

And he was still grinning brightly when he showed you what he fished out. A knife. Out of all the things he could have gotten, it was a knife. You quickly got up to rest on elbows and an inner voice told you to prepare for take off.

“Any reason for that?” You lazily pointed at his hand.

“There might be.”

Few people saw red as a color of passion, and few as a color of anger. Years on the police force taught you to see red as a sign of blood or injury. And Adrian? He connected this color with the suit of his best friend Chris. Seeing you in red panties, Peacemaker’s color, made him literally see red. You’re not Peacemaker’s, you belong to Vigilante, you belong to him.

Adrian wanted to make sure you would remember it. The knife slowly slid under the cloth on your hips. With a clean swipe, he sliced the expensive lace and moved to the other side. Once it didn’t hold together he tore away the last piece of clothing covering your body.

“Fucking four-course meal. I just want to eat you,” A gush of realization hit him in the middle of admiring your naked body. “Eat you out I mean. I’m not a cannibal, I feel like I should clarify that when I’m holding a knife.”

He swiftly tossed the knife on the floor and before you heard clinking of it hitting the ground, he was prying his head right between your thighs.

Adrian had a bad habit of not eating properly. To be fair it was hard for him to notice the hunger when his mind was running at full speed, swarming his head with millions of other things than basic human needs. But when a feast was laid out before him? He wouldn’t leave a single crumb.

The second he buried his tongue in between your folds, you became his favorite dessert. And the second you felt him suck on your clit, you realized his tongue would go to waste in prison. You made the right decision, he was much better off there, worshiping your body.

Delightful pleasure blossomed in your pussy and stretching to the very end of each of your limb and swarming your head. Not even all those nasty noises could not take you out from the heaven you lingered in.

Warm tongue nudging your clit with short flicks before switching to lick a long strip all across your cunt. Prying deep into you for another taste, sucking on your labia, occasionally biting your inner thighs. Adrian was having time of his life while you clutched on the bedsheets and moaned in retaliation.

Completely and utterly consumed… Barely feeling a hand sneaking off your thighs and making its way to your dripping hole. Two fingers were pushed into you with no restraint while Adrian’s tongue continued his work on you.

With trouble you lifted your head from his pillows and looked down just to find Adrian looking at you half-lidded, smirking against your clit when your gazes locked. Then he went for a bold move, latching on you, sucking harshly and shaking his head, which resulted in a bolt of shivers down your spine.

This was too good.

He felt your pussy clenching, arousal seeping down to his bed, legs shaking on either side of his head, and the moment your head got thrown back and moans pitched he withdrew his mouth and fingers from you, letting you tether on the edge.

“Shit!” You yelled out upon being denied your bliss. How did he dare.

“That’s not nice” He repeated your previous words with a grin and playfully slapped your outer thigh.

“Go fuck yourself!”

“I’d much rather fuck you, but if you insist.” His hand wrapped around his cock and started stroking himself above you in an obscene demonstration accompanied by over-the-top moans.

You lunged at him and caught his hands before he could continue. This time he resisted having hands restricted, trying to twist his wrists out of your hold with a frown.

“Let go.” There was a hint of dominance in his voice, but what person you would be if you crumbled under every little threat.

“No.” The hold stayed strong and you had no intention of letting go.

Adrian didn’t appreciate your decision. Deep inside his heart skipped a beat every time you did something defiant. When you cursed in his name, when you threw that metal pipe at him, when you refused to let him go. All that presented a challenge and Adrian’s no quitter. But now? He was pent up and when you just delayed the moment he got to be inside you once more, he had enough. And if that meant he had to fight dirty, so be it.

Your breath almost got knocked out of your lungs when his whole body fell on you, successfully pining you to the mattress. Mouth pressed against yours to prevent you from objecting. You would call him out, just for the sake of it, but his whole weight on you, acting like a weighted blanket, was more than welcome.

You did not even notice when you loosened the hold on his wrists, which Adrian quickly took advantage of. You were too busy kissing him back with the same amount of fierceness and before you could notice, you were the one pinned down by wrists.

And that time, when Adrian was above you, his hands on each side of your face, holding you down like a feral animal, yet staring at you in awe, you realized his eyes were green. So beautifully green. After all that time of wondering what color his eyes were, you finally had an answer.

He shifted your hands together above your head, which allowed him to hold you down with just one hand while the other guided his cock into your sopping pussy. Before he pushed in, you were given a soft kiss, a beautiful contrast to previous actions.

You moaned in each other's mouths when he finally entered you with one stroke. You were a sucker for the feeling of fullness only he was able to give you and after not letting you cum on his mouth you were in need to feel him deep inside again.

“You look so pretty like this.” His hand found its way to your chest and pressed right in the middle, feeling your beating heart. He had a weird fixation with it. Sweet nevertheless.

The hammering heart reminded him no matter what was before and what came next, it was beating for him and him only in that moment.  

He drove into you slowly as he basked in the opportunity to feel your walls constrict around him after such a long time. All those wet dreams about you could never replace the real thing.

“I always look pretty.” You smiled at him before he brought his head down. Nice kiss soon turning into a messy one. You could still feel yourself on his tongue when he pried it inside your mouth.

“I can’t argue with that.” He chuckled at your remark after pulling away from the kiss, a string of saliva stretching between you before Adrian wiped it away. With that you rolled up your hips, urging him for more as you fucked yourself on his cock.

Lewld sounds of skin slapping, creaking of the bed, squelching of your wetness and moans and whimpers followed what started as a nice and solid pace and soon turned into the good old savage fucking. And in the meantime he allowed you to run your hands over his body however you wanted.

With Vigilante, with Adrian, it always had to be a lot. No one would hear you complaining though.

With a new vigor of Adrian’s hips slapping against yours, well-kept nails colored in bloody red as you scratched his back in the last hopeless shot to hold on. Deep hurtful marks were left all along his tensing muscles, he didn’t mind it one bit. The idea of being marked in the heat of passion was encouraging at last.

He just wished it would be permanent, a forever reminder of you, that would nudge his memory every time he saw it in a mirror. Whenever this would get a good or bad ending, you were a person who woke up emotions he thought he had lost or hadn’t felt so strongly in a long while.

His hold shifted to your waist, sliding to your hips. Clutching onto you so tightly on purpose to create bruises in the shapes of his fingertips and similar to you, pressing his nails past the barrier of sensitive skin. Hoping it would leave a long-lasting mark. You wailed in response, it hurt so good it made a mush out of your brain.

Yet a dark thought crossed his mind. Getting the knife lying on the floor to carve his initials on your shaking body. That would be the permanence he craved. Painful wounds would turn into nasty scars not allowing you to forget who he was to you for the rest of your life.

But he couldn’t pour all his frustrations on you, all this anxiety and fear of abandonment. He couldn’t do that to you. The truth was you made his blood boil, brought out the worst in him, made him doubt his motivation, terrifying him with arrest, but you had reasons to. It wasn’t accidental or illogical. He could never hurt you for doing the right thing in the eyes of the public even if it meant the worst for him.

If he couldn’t make you remember him with scars on your body, he wanted to make sure you would never forget that night. Pour out a part of his anger on you in the best possible way.  His thrusts were merciless, making his cheap bed shake and headboard slam against the wall. Too late to think about the neighbors, your moans and whines were already loud enough to alert everyone in close distance.

“Fuck! Don’t stop!” You screamed out and it only encouraged him to go on, fingers sneaking down your body to rub tight circles on your clit with threatening precision. The sole thing that mattered was to make you cum on his dick.

“You’re doing so well,” He whispered into your hair with a calming voice. You had to tuck your face to his neck, hiding your red cheeks and muffling piercing screams of pleasure with his silky skin. “Cum for me, baby.”

And you did. Hot burning pleasure shot across your body, all the way to your fingers holding onto his back, to toes on your straining feet, your back arched, chest pressed against his, white flashed in front of your eyes.

Adrian slowed down and fucked you through it while muttering sweet words to your ear. Hands slid under you to cradle you in a hot sweaty embrace.

You came down from your high soon after, but his own was awaiting him and he wanted to reach it too. Let his mind shut down.

The way he picked up pace again made you whimper in overstimulation. His body pinned you down, cock sliding in and out of your spent cunt swiftly, quick moans filling your ears, sweat mixing with his deodorant was suddenly so vivid. Adrian won over your senses in every possible aspect.

He was already so close with how your pussy clenched around him when you came. There was no chance for him to last long like this. Not with how his hips bucked like a wild animal.

“Look at me,” His warm hand cradled your cheek, bringing you to reality. “Please, look at me. I want to see your eyes when I cum.”

The plead sounded so broken and urgent, you had no other choice than to comply. You opened your eyes and saw his green ones, staring back at you while his brows knitted together. Eyelids barely resisting the urge to close.

They might have been right when they said eyes are the windows to the soul.

Whispers of his name on your lips broke something inside him. Pushing him over the edge with a shaky moan. His forehead pressed tightly against yours, panting in your open mouth as he pumped his cock into you for the last few times. Hot thick cum coated your already oversensitive insides and you clamped your walls around him to prolong his orgasm.

Not for a second you dared to close your eyes. He asked you nicely, it wouldn’t be fair if you defied. But since when did you care to listen to his pleas?

He stilled his hips when his cock stopped flaring inside you. However, his eyes opened after quite some time, after he gathered enough power to stop his shaking. Maybe you weren’t the only one fucked completely dumb.

He caught your lips in a soft lingering kiss, his thumb stroking your cheek in such loving manner. It spread warmth deep in your chest, so genuine and adoring.

Vigilante, the concept of a person, of a maniac, dragged you through hell. The way he was laughing in your face, the way you stomped in anger like a little child whenever he escaped, only fueling the fire.

But Vigilante you now knew? Adrian Chase? He took you to Heaven. His words made you feel like the most important person, his touch left goosebumps in its way, and the way he treated you after almost fucking your brains out he made you wonder about the remaining sides of him that you haven't had the chance to see so far.

The million-dollar smile he gave you was comforting, you could get used to it. Addictive as much as everything else about him.

Adrian carefully pulled out and rolled to the side, hissing through his teeth when the pain of scratched back hit him. Both of your bodies tiredly rested on his messy bed, heavy breathing joined the ringing in your ears. Long silence haunted the room, you were afraid to say anything, not wanting to disturb the peace between you two, and Adrian had no words to say as it seemed. Until…

“You won’t leave for Gotham, right?”

Oh, he wanted to keep you.

“Well, I promised myself I would not go to Gotham unless I catch Vigilante. But gosh darn, is he one slippery motherfucker.” You turned on your side to face him properly, corners of your mouth twitched upwards in contrast to such ‘hopeless’ statement.

He smiled at you, eyes twinkling with optimism. “I guess you have to stay a little longer. Before you catch him, of course.”

His hand reached out for yours with uncertainty, but once he saw you didn’t pull away, he intertwined fingers with yours in a tight hold.

“Stay.”

Such a simple word, yet it contained his whole heart. Would it be possible for Vigilante, despite his claims that he doesn’t feel emotions, to feel something? And would it be possible for a police officer, despite her claims of hate towards him, to feel the same?

You silently nodded. There was no use for words when the look you shared said everything that needed to be said.

Was it hatred? No, at least not the serious kind. Was it love? Far from it. Maybe what you two shared could not be named.

You would still throw a metal pipe on his head without a second thought and Adrian would trip you with pleasure whilst running away from you. He would stick out tongue on you if you screamed obscenities at him, but he would also kiss your cheek in the morning if you decided to stay the night and you would straighten his glasses for him when needed and tuck away hair from his face.

Both of you would exchange bloody red roses, sweet looks, and bitter words until fate decided otherwise.