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yailtsv · 2 months ago

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Someone To Stay - j.w

💌 Syn: we all need someone to stay

»»— warnings: mention of death (a lot), depression, mention of y/n (only once i think), probably more too

»»— notes: this was originally a paige fic butttt….yeah

»»— word count: 2.5k

»»— pair: Juju Watkins x gf!reader

it’s been 2 weeks.

2 miserable, painful, sleepless, weeks.

2 weeks of not being on your phone, 2 weeks of ignoring all of your teammates, 2 weeks since you quit basketball, 2 weeks since your world fell apart - with no one even knowing.

you grew up in minnesota, and went to usc for college. you moved away from home for college. you went miles away from your baby siblings for college - only seeing them on breaks or when your parents were able to put enough money together to take the trip. you left all you knew for college.

and now? everything’s gone

2 weeks ago you received a phone call from an unknown minnesota number - saying that your parents had gotten hit by a drunk driver with your siblings in the car. there was only one survivor - the drunk driver.

the first week - you were in denial and angry, leading to you starting a argument with juju and her storming out after endless yelling back and forth. that happened on tuesday.

on wednesday of the first week, you packed your bags and flew to minnesota - refusing to believe your family was gone.

you didn’t tell anyone about you leaving, although you did send coach lindsay a email saying that you needed a break and that you didn’t want to play basketball anymore - and then you left, just like that. didn’t wait for a response, didn’t text juju, didn’t text any of your teammates, you just left.

although you were informed about your family - the media has no idea who was in the car yet as nobody that was trying to help could tell who they were because of the injury’s and blood. so no one knows the battles your facing right now. not juju, not coach lindsay, not your teammates, and not your fans, everyone just thinks your being moody for no reason- that is not the case.

the only reason the morgue was able to find out who they were was because they had a doctor do a blood test to find any living relatives - you.

Your were alone, left out in the cold

by the time you got to your house on wednesday, it was dark outside, it was raining - hard, and your brain was on autopilot - trying to find your family all around the small one story house.

only to come up empty handed. your family was no where to be found.

your neighbor saw you walk in and then heard you shortly after calling out for your family - she new you heard the news about them, so she was worried….and called the police. she was one of the only other people that know of the identification right now, as she is your guys neighbor and was an extremely close friend to your mom.

she wanted to go over and comfort you but with giving a 19 year old news that her whole family’s gone - there’s a 100% chance that that said girl will have a mental breakdown eventually, it’s bound to happen. you just never know when, that’s why she decided to call for help.

by the time help got there, you were sitting on the floor by the fireplace looking at the scrapbooks that your mom spent her whole life making. you had left the front door open when you were in your rush to find your family so the two officers were able to see you on the floor.

“ma’am? are you the surviving daughter?” he knew the answer but he had to ask. it was protocol, but to you? it felt like he was rubbing it in your face ‘haha your here alone. they left you cause they hated you. you shouldn’t have moved miles away from them! they needed you and you left to play basketball?’

so you didn’t answer.

you kept looking at the scrapbooks ignoring both of them. they slowly entered the house - not knowing if you were a danger yet.

“ma’am?” still you ignored them, “ma’am, i’m officer morgan this is my partner officer reid. we got a call about the surviving daughter of the family in the car crash calling out for the family. you’re her correct? you’re the daughter?”

“obviously. do you think i’m a random that just broke in?” you rasped out in a angry tone

“no ma’am, it’s protocol to ask these questions.” officer reid said making you hum before looking back at the scrap book in your lap

“can we get your name?”

“no.” you reply back making both the officers look at each other “why?” reid asks stepping a few steps closer

“because you obviously already know the answer. leave me alone.”

“we can’t do that. your neighbors are concerned for you, and so are we.” morgan said

“well i’m fine so you can leave.”

“you left the front door wide open, do you realize how bad that could’ve ended up? your neighbors also said that you were shouting for your family.”

“boohoo i was calling out for my family so what? you’re trespassing!”

the officers sighed cause you technically were right. you never gave them confirmation to walk in - they just did.

“okay, we will leave alright? but here’s our numbers - call if you ever need help ok?” reid says putting his and morgan’s business cards on the table and both of the officers slowly walking out of the house.

Clinging to the ruin of your broken home

after that the days blended in together. you didn’t leave the house, you didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep, you didn’t check your phone.

on thursday of the second week, the police were able to get enough information of the identities and the accident itself to finally release a statement - one that you were named in.

after the statement it took an hour tops for the articles to be posted and somehow made its way to california in that time period too.

“juju, you might want to see this.” kiki said walking up to juju in the locker room after practice “what is it?” juju asked facing her cubby and not kiki.

“just look” kiki said putting her phone in jujus face, making ju grab the phone and sit down on her chair to look at whatever kiki’s trying to show her

USC star gone off the grid as news about her family in a drunk driving incident comes out.

“what is this kiki?” juju says while scrolling through more articles

minnesotan family of 5 tragically died in car accident.

USC star has yet to make a statement on recent events.

Where is the USC star? Does she know of her family’s death?

Family of 5 was actually a Family of 6? Where’s the surviving kid?

“you know how we all thought y/n was just being moody?” kiki hesitantly says

juju doesn’t answer and just gives kiki her phone back, grabs her stuff, and runs out of the locker room with the girls calling out for her

juju impulsively buys a plane ticket to minnesota before going back to her dorm packing stuff to last however long. when she was done she drove to the airport while calling you over and over again - getting sent to voicemail every time

“cmon baby, pick up” juju mumbles to herself before once again hearing your voicemail making her sigh

Too lost and hurting to carry your load

landing in minnesota after the articles being released was a nightmare. everyone was coming up to juju asking if she knew anything about you or the accident. the amount of times she said “no comment” in the last 15 minutes was absolutely ridiculous - but she made it out of the air port.

calling and waiting for a uber was a whole other mission. fans were coming up to juju wanting pictures and autographs, they were all recording too. they were all shocked for juju to be in minnesota but they were loving every second - juju wasn’t.

you and juju aren’t public like neither of you guys are even out to the public, but it’s rumored. you and juju stared dating your guys freshman year, freshman year is also how you guys met in the first place.

you and juju have just said you guys are really close best friends, some people believe that lie and some people are pushing the dating agenda. that’s why so many fans are going crazy on the internet after all those videos and pictures of juju at the minneapolis airport come out.

“THEY’RE DATING!!!! JUJUS IN MINNESOTA AFTER THE ARTICLES CAME OUT 🤭🤭”

“NOBODY CAN CONVINCE ME THEY’RE ‘just best friends’ LOOK HOW SAD JUJU LOOKS! LOOK HOW WORRIED SHE IS! THEY ARE DATING RAHHH👺”

“Juju outing in minnesota for y/n wasn’t on my 2025 bingo card”

that was only some of the tweets/comments, there was a lot more - mostly non pg ones.

when jujus uber finally got there she rushed inside telling them a block near your address - not wanting to let the uber driver know the exact address, just in case

when arrived to the destination she gave she payed the guy and went on her phone pretending to text somebody until the guy drove away, and when he did she started walking to your house. the house she visited over summer this year.

when she reached the house the vibe felt extremely different from this summer. this summer the vibe felt warm, friendly…lively, now it felt cold, unwelcoming….dead. juju took a deep breath in before walking to the front door and knocking a few times - only to receive no answer

“baby come open the door please.” juju pleads only to still get no response she huffs before turning the knob to see if it was unlocked - it was.

“baby?” juju says walking into the house hesitantly before her eye caught you laying next to the fireplace with an unsafe amount of distance between you and the fire “ baby! baby! hey! what are you doing? why are you laying so close to the fireplace? do you know how unsafe laying that close to a fire is?” juju says while running over to where you are and pulling you to a safe distance away from the raging fire.

you didn’t respond shocker, you stayed staring at the fire, bundled up in one of the blankets that were on the couch.

juju got the hint that you didn’t want to talk and got down on the ground right behind you as you were laying on your side. she put one of her arms under your head and put the other on your waist - pulling you closer to her

“i’m sorry” she mumbles into your ear “i’m sorry for the fight, i’m sorry for storming out, i’m sorry about your family, i’m sorry for not realizing something was wrong. i’m so so sorry baby. i love you so much, i would really like to be here for you if you’ll let me.”

you just slowly move your hands to grab both of her hands - holding them.

juju let’s you do just that, she understands that you don’t want to talk or get up or literally do anything, so she’s gonna stay right beside you holding you and comforting you with no questions or complaints even if the fire is burning her face.

We all need someone to hold

it’s been two days since juju got to minnesota. she’s somehow talked you into a lot of things in that time period too.

she talked you into moving to the couch, so you guys are no longer laying on the floor.

she’s talked you into eating a few things, which you never even realized you weren’t eating. you’ve just been so stuck in your head that taking care of yourself went out the window.

and now currently, she’s talked you into taking a bath seeing as you haven’t done so yourself in a while.

“hey baby, i need you to lift your head up for me. i need to wash your hair.” juju said while you were resting your head on your knees, that you brought up to your chest

you slowly lifted your head letting her wash and scrub your hair “you know-“ she started

“you could have told me what happened. you didn’t have to go through this alone. “

“i didn’t want to burden you.” you whisper out - your voice raspy from not using it for a few days

her hands stop scrubbing your hair for a minute while she turns her face to look at you “baby. baby look at me”

you slowly turn your head “you are not a burden. do you hear me? you’re not.” juju says sternly “we are in a relationship, there’s no such thing as ‘being a burden’ we communicate, we support, and we love each other, none of that changes during a life changing journey. i love you ok? i’m here for you!”

“i’m sorry” you say tearing up feeling guilty for causing all of these feelings and problems in your relationship

“baby, it’s ok! i promise” but that doesn’t help you - only makes you cry harder because you feel like you don’t deserve juju and her caring-ness.

jujus stands up and takes her slides, socks, and hoodie off, climbing into the tub behind you wearing a sports bra and basketball shorts. she sits down with you between her legs and pulls you into her.

“shh shhh you’re ok. i’m here.” juju mumbles to you as you have now turned so your on your side in the tub, gripping onto her waist, crying into her chest

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to cause problems between us. i’m sorry” you sob out into her chest

“i’m not mad at you baby. there’s no reason to apologize ok? i’m not mad”

you don’t respond - only grip her waist more and hide your face into her chest “it’s my fault. it’s all my fault” you sob out again

“what? baby what are you talking about?” juju says

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out

“i moved away from them! i wasn’t here for them because i went away to play stupid fucking basketball!” you cry out once again

“no! baby, i’m not gonna let you do this. none of this is your fault at all ok? you went away to follow your dreams and your family is more than proud of you. nobody’s to blame except for the person that decided to get in a car and drive while knowing they were drunk. it. is. not. your. fault. got it?”

you don’t answer, you don’t even move. it’s like her confirming that there was actually a drunk driver made you have to accept that. this whole time you’ve been denying that your family’s gone, that they were killed in a drunk driving incident, that you would never actually see them again, and juju just confirmed everything you’ve been denying.

and now your just numb, but at least your not crying anymore right? right?

🏷️ @authentic-girl03 @evry1luvzzae @bethsleftnip @rebecca-woso

#juju watkins x reader #juju watkins #juju watkins x y/n #juju watkins x fem reader #usc wbb x reader #wcbb x reader #yailtsv works—★

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hadesrise · 1 year ago

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## can’t help falling in love !!

summary──── no matter what tragedy strikes, you and jason can’t help falling in love with each other. based on “can’t help falling in love” by elvis presley.

pairings──── jason peter todd x addams!male reader

warnings──── fluff, angst, very suggestive in the beginning, foul language, death and resurrection, mentions of violence, brainwash, hurt/comfort, destined soulmates, possessiveness if you squint, blood

author’s note──── okay, i take back what i said. i probably won’t stop writing addams!reader anytime soon. by the way, i don’t have specific jason in mind so any universe can be imagined for all my jason fics.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you

The chilly air makes goosebumps appear on Jason’s skin as he hugs himself to shield away from the cold. Dark shine of the moon bringing peace to the silence completely surrounding him, Jason admires the statues littered across the graveyard behind the Addams manor in honour of your fallen ancestors. Despite darkness lurking behind every shadow and spirits wandering around tirelessly, this place held utter peace and comfort, warming Jason’s heart by embracing it tightly in their arms.

Each ancestors had extraordinary headstone that fits them best with their statue standing tall and proud, it truly shows how Addams honour their family members the right way. None of their headstones were simple or boring, each having unique traits that Jason was certain they used to have when they were alive. Each Addams have unique traits that differed from one another, but all of them were undeniably extraordinary. They aren’t like any other, much like how his lover’s not like any other.

Jason feels a coat being wrapped around him before two arms sneaks around his waist, shoulder weighing slightly from where you rest your chin on it. He fights back a smile.

“You could’ve called for me, beau. My siblings wouldn’t have minded one less duelling partner.” You softly say, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.

Jason instinctually leans back, snuggling to your neck. “Yeah, but you should spend more time with ‘em. Always with me, they’re gonna start thinking you’re forgetting your own siblings.”

“I assure you, they would not.” You start slowly swaying your bodies together to a non-existent music as Jason follows through with you. “They’re going to start thinking you’re forgetting them. Wednesday and Pugsley prefer you more than me, sweetheart, especially Wednesday.”

“Oh, really?” Jason smirks.

“Yes, really.” You nod with a sigh, though he could tell you weren’t annoyed at all. “She pushed me down the stairs last night after we’ve gotten back from our date.”

Jason throws his head back with a laugh, “Sorry, babe. She might or might not have invited me to throw an axe at Pugsley and I turned it down.”

“No wonder she was beyond irritated with me,” Amusement fills your tone as the corner of your lips twitch up to form a subtle smile. Jason looks at you over his shoulder and you immediately lean in for a lingering kiss, butterflies erupting in his stomach as his heart skip a beat. You then kiss his cheek and forehead before resting your chin back on his shoulder with eyes closed.

Jason sighs in content, admiring your captivating features that somehow reminds him of death. But your presence wasn’t as cold as death, it’s warm and engulfing despite your touch rivaling that coldness of an ice. He leans closer for a moment, only to lift your arms that were around him so he could face you while still being embraced by you, burying his face on the crook of your neck.

“I really love you.” He sighs, arms secure around your back.

“I would do everything for you,” Your reply was instant, resting your head against his. He felt your arms squeeze him as if to emphasise, and he chuckled.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” The silly question slips from his lips, half-joking and half-serious, pulling his head back to look into your nearly lifeless eyes. He’s reminded of how it’s only alive because of him.

Your eyebrows raised slightly in mere question and amusement, but you take his hand and press a tender kiss on his palm.

“I adore you in every universe. I love you just as much as Icarus has loved the sun — even more than he’s loved the sun. I would shatter the ground and raise hell just to find you wherever you go. I would paint the sky with shooting stars to fulfill your wish. I would tear the world apart and watch the universe collapse if you are ever taken from me, for a life without you is a life full of unquenchable thirst and eternal hunger unworthy of surviving. I would worship every ground you stand and walk on to an extent which I wish not to touch the ground you haven’t touched yet, for it hasn’t been blessed with your divine greatness. I would offer you my eyes if your vision fails, my voice if yours can no longer function, my heart if yours cease to beat, my hands if you can no longer hold the world in yours, my legs if yours fail to take you to places you’ve dreamed of. Only death shall keep me away from you, and even so, it would merely be enough to prevent me from either clawing the dirt apart and rising alive to hold you in my arms, or dragging you down with me to rest for all eternity together.”

By the end of your speech, Jason was already crying ocean of tears as his eyes twinkles in overwhelming happiness, extremely touched.

Both of you always make long and romantic declaration of your love for each other in most random times, and while his speech makes you smile from ear to ear and giddy like a high schooler, yours often never failed to reduce him into nothing but a sobbing and crying mess. He hates it, but could never bring himself to hate you for making him cry.

You smile gently at him and press very soft kisses on both of his eyelids before continuing, “Therefore, the answer is yes, my love. I would still love you if you were a worm.”

Jason chokes out a chuckle, sniffing. “Fuck you for always catching me off guard and making me cry.”

Your hands cup his red face as you coo, “Do not be ashamed for shedding your tears, Jason. Quite frankly, I find them very captivating.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “You like seeing me cry?”

“Ah, yes...” A flirtatious smirk appears on your lips, one arm pulling him close and the other hand sneaking up to gently clasp your fingers around his throat. “Indeed, I do. Especially in bed.”

Jason resists his urge to moan when you squeezed slightly, tilting his head back a little to give you more access. “Why in bed when you can make me cry right here and now?” He whispered, rather lusciously as you stare into his lustful eyes.

You lick your lips before smashing your lips on his hungrily and Jason quickly reciprocates, no longer feeling the chilliness of the graveyard air.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help falling in love with you?

Jason loves you more than words can express. He loves you oh so dearly that he would turn back to the God that his heart stopped believing after he came back to life just so he could recite prayers for an eternity with you. Jason never thought it was possible to love someone so much so that he’d be willing to both give up everything for you and give you everything you want.

But sometimes, love makes him afraid.

Afraid of losing you. Afraid of seeing you hurt. Afraid of knowing anyone and anything can take you away any moment. He hadn’t thought about what you feel everytime you see him injured, but when you walked into the living room all bloody, bruised and slashed, his heart stopped and the mug he was holding just slipped from his hand to shatter on the floor.

You laid down on the large expensive sofa with a slight wince as Jason ran off to find some medical kits available in the Addams manor, being helped by Thing to locate its whereabout, before running back in with the necessities. He almost got a heart attack when he saw you had your eyes closed, seemingly not breathing, looking paler than usual. Dropping the medical kits on the carpeted floor below the sofa, he quickly checks on your pulse and sighs in relief when he feels it, just then remembering that an Addams is very unlikely to show any physical signs of breathing unless letting out a sigh.

You open your eyes and admire his face twisted in worry and fear, moving up a hand to pat his head twice. “It’s not necessary to be overly concerned, my dear. Nothing to fear of, these are mere injuries that can easily be treated.” You wave it off with the same hand, somehow very calm and nonchalant despite how intense your injuries looked.

Sadness now replacing the look on his face, Jason wordlessly shakes his head and begins to treat the bruises and cuts on your face with careful and soothing hands. You stop him gently to remove your vigilante suit before letting him continue, comforting silence filling the almost grim atmosphere. Jason doesn’t realise you’re watching every bit of his expression, seeing the way his perfect eyebrows furrow and his lips frown slightly every time he moves from one injury to another. It feels like the injury’s getting worse the more he moved to the next, and it made his heart heavy.

Your gaze softens, knowing he was having second thoughts about speaking the things that bothered him.

It seems Jason has quickly gathered the strength to speak because before you can throw encouraging words, his quiet voice interrupts the comfortable silence. “I know you’re not afraid of dying or anything with your culture and all, but it makes me worry a lot.” You nod to let him know you’re listening. “I sound like a real hypocrite ‘cause I go out on mission then come back here looking like a fucking zombie more than I want to admit, so I don’t have the right to say anything like this, but you almost gave me a heart attack.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, silently encouraging him to speak his thoughts more as he cleans your wounds. You don’t miss the way Jason’s hand trembled.

“You’re not...” He trailed off, hesitant to continue as he bit his lip as if to contemplate whether or not to say it out loud. He followed through it, anyway. “You’re not gonna leave me, right?” Jason tries, looking up and meeting your eyes. His emerald irises were wavering in worry and hint of fear.

Your hand gently caress his face, Jason leaning on it immediately. “As I’ve said before, mon amour... Death is merely enough to prevent me from crawling back to you.” Ignoring your freshly bandaged wounds, you pulled Jason on your lap and tugged at the back of his neck to kiss his lips passionately and comfortingly. “Leaving you only means leaving my heart and soul behind, darling. We wouldn’t want me to feel incomplete, would we?”

Jason sighs in content against your lips, before carefully shifting on the big sofa so he could squish beside you and pull you to his chest, initiatively big-spooning you.

“m’just really scared to lose you,” He whispered, burying his face on your hair and hugging you close, but not tight enough to hurt. It’s not like you’re capable of feeling pain, but you appreciated his kindness nonetheless.

You press a tender kiss on his chest, looking up at him and frowning softly. “I sincerely apologize for frightening you, my love. I’ll make an oath to be careful next time.”

Jason nods, basking in your warmth, your scent, your presence.

Gods, he loves you too much to let you go. He could never, would never. You belong to him just as much as he belongs to you and even death has no right to take that away. You were his, and only his — in life and in death.

You feel Jason’s arms tighten around you, and resisted the smile spreading across your face. Death can never intimidate you as your culture revolves around it, but the thought of losing Jason was always triggering for you. It made you dive into insanity and quickly get rid of the problem at hand, as if you’ll suffocate if you’re not quick enough to eliminate the threat. Handling Joker physically, handling Bruce mentally, handling those irrelevant crime lords who nearly hurt Red Hood off the streets violently, all things of sort.

Fall down with me further, mon chéri.

Your mind shall be filled with me and only me, even if it’s the utter fear of losing me.

A dreamy look flashed across your eyes before disappearing fast, burying your face in his chest and embracing him tighter. If you’re both too afraid for the other to die and lose them, then maybe dying together would not sound so bad at all.

You had read once on a book that falling in love is a curse, for you’ll drown in it before you even realise and fail to resurface once you fall too deep, unable to ever get out again.

However, if that is the case, you disagreed. Because it was never a curse, it’s only ever been a blessing.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

“Where the fuck is he!?” Jason yelled in rage, red clouding his vision as he threw the mug on a wall. Panic, anger, and worry filled his chest that made his frustration grow even more.

Bruce sighed, worry also plastering his face as he attempted to grasp your location with the computer. “He’s only been gone for an hour, Jason. Be patient.”

“Anything can fucking happen in an hour!” He growled back, glaring harshly before the worry and panic began to overthrow his anger, one hand slipping through his hair and tugging at it. “I— fuck, what am I gonna do? I shouldn’t have let him go alone, I should’ve went with him—”

Dick quickly approached his little brother when his breathing started to grow uneven. “Jay, hey... Breathe, calm yourself first. He’s going to be okay, he’s an untouchable badass.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Jason shakes his head, rubbing his face. “I wouldn’t know what to do without him— I can’t live without him, Dicky. I can’t.” His voice broke as he trembled, silence filling the air with everyone frowning in sadness and worry.

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Jason felt his heart thumping loudly against his chest when he saw you fighting enemies with only sustaining little injuries, relief flooding throughout his body. It’s like the world brightened up again, ironically.

You made eye contact in the middle of the fight, smirking at him. “Can’t get rid of me easily, love.”

A light-hearted chuckle erupts from Jason as he joins you along with the Batfam in fighting the League of Assassins, you and Jason moving in sync as if dancing through the violence. Both of you moved swiftly together, fitting each other perfectly like the pieces of a puzzle, using each other occassionally as a leverage against them.

“This is like dancing in our graveyard,” Jason grinned under his Red Hood helmet, adrenaline rushing in his veins.

“Indeed, it does feel like it.” You responded with subtle enthusiasm, only noticeable by your lover. He laughs at your answer, enjoying the moment even when it was violent.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

He doesn’t know why he got distracted. He doesn’t know why he didn’t pay attention more to his surroundings. But before Jason knew it, Raj’s Al Ghul’s sword was nearly piercing into him.

Until your firm and cold hand pushed him away, everything feeling like a slow motion in Jason’s eyes as the sword pierced into your chest and through your back, directly striking the heart. Jason’s eyes widened, anguished call of your name slipping from his lips. Blood dripping from your mouth, you tightly held onto the sword before driving one of your sais on Raj’s Al Ghul’s throat, where a vital point is.

The League of Assassins member fell on the ground first, clutching his throat and choking on his own blood.

Amusement flickers in your eyes, even at the graveness of the situation. You looked back at Jason and smiled, grabbing the sword’s handle and pulling it off your chest despite Batman’s loud protests. Loud metallic clank echoes within the warehouse as you dropped the sword on the concrete, stepping forward once towards your lover, but your legs giving away made you almost tumble down.

Jason immediately catches you in his arms and lays you on his lap, tears stinging his eyes as his breath quickens, removing his helmet to throw it beside him. Heartbeat rapid and restless, heart dropped to his stomach, nausea forming in the pit due to the sight of blood flowing outwards to your vigilante suit from the hole on your chest. He could feel a panic attack nearing, but couldn’t be bothered to care when the blood kept pouring out even when he applied pressure.

“No— no, no, no, no.” He chokes up, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, trembling hands continuously putting pressure on your chest. “Stay with me, please. Stay with me. I can’t—” He sobbed. “I can’t lose you.”

Your breathing was shallow yet no fear plastered your face. There’s your usual calmness, the nonchalance that Bruce used to be so unsettled when he first met you, your almost dead eyes still sparkling in love and adoration for Jason. You don’t seem to care about your injury nor the outstretched arms of the Grim Reaper.

Your bloodied lips stretches to form a weak smile, captivated by Jason’s beauty under the moonlight. “You’re still magnificent, cherí… A sight to behold… under the moonlight…”

“Baby, now’s not the time.” Jason whined pathetically, tears flowing endlessly from his eyes. Dread, fear, devastation settling in his chest. “Please, baby. Please. I don’t know- fuck, I can’t live without you.” He cried, uncaring that you two were surrounded by his family. “I don’t… I can’t, baby. I— I can’t lose you, please.”

Adrenaline rushing through your veins and motivated by your sheer love for him, you reached up to wipe his tears and grab his other hand to intertwine it with yours. Jason’s heart drops further down the abyss when you then used it to pull out his dagger — the one you gifted him — out of his holster. “You would not lose me, by other’s hands, my sweetheart… I made an oath, to only offer you my life and soul, with no one else to have the privilege of ending me.”

“No— please, baby, no…” Jason weakly shakes his head, sobbing.

You gripped his hand that held the dagger. “You ought to, cherí… It is an honour for me to die by your hands. Please, allow me… to love you, one last time.”

Jason whimpered your name, crying heavily as he leans down to rest his head on yours. You were so cruel, wanting to die by his hands, wanting him to live forever with his hands stained in your blood— but Jason knew that’s how extent your love was for him. He could never deny you, not when it was your greatest wish.

Croaks and sobs escaping him, Jason finally drives the dagger through your chest, right where the sword pierced you. It is only then you slumped against him, hands slowly dropping to your sides with mouth slightly turned up in a smile of peace and satisfaction.

The greatest proof that you love him. Carving yourself deep into his heart, so he could never be alone even when you’re physically gone.

Jason wailed in anguish and sorrow, hugging your now lifeless body close as he brokenly recites the speech you gave him in the graveyard.

You hurt him badly, loved him too cruelly, but it was still better than losing you forever. He would’ve driven the dagger into his own beating heart if only you allowed him.

For I can’t help falling in love with you

Jason lost the brightness he had in him. Emerald eyes lifeless that seemed as if you took his soul with you, still functioning yet lacking in human emotions as if he was a robotic being.

Sometimes, he breaks so suddenly. Utters your name like a curse, sobbing and weeping in his room, scar so deep in his heart he scratches at his chest in attempt to get it out to stop the ache. His emotions were too unstable that left him unqualified to continue the vigilantism, which he agreed emotionlessly when pointed out by Bruce.

Sometimes, he’s shattered too much and far too gone in grief that he sleeps on your grave. Covers himself in blanket and nuzzles on your headstone, as if it would give him the warmth you always radiated despite being as cold as death. He could only sleep that way; the sleeping pills don’t help, but being close to your body does.

He holds his dagger close to him all the time. Stained in your dried blood that he never got the nerve to wash off, afraid that his mind would someday choose to forget your existence to block out the trauma.

He wears everything you used to wear. Uses your weapons, things, accessories. His favourite is your sunglasses. Having your possessions close always made him feel like you were embracing him.

No one ever attempted to get them away from him in fear of shattering his soul furthermore. His entire being seemingly dependent on everything that reminded of you, they didn’t want to trigger something inside of him any more than the scar in his heart did.

“Love truly is the greatest twisted curse in the world, Mr. Wayne.” Morticia mutters in sorrow as she looks out the window of the Addams’ manor, watching Jason curl up against your headstone with tears silently streaming down his face.

Bruce looks down in dejection, nodding his head.

His boy was beyond repair, and no one could do anything about it because you were gone.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Jason’s eyes were wide in shock and horror. Emotions swirled within his chest; anger, disgust, sadness, grief, disbelief, and joy battling one another that overwhelmed him all at once. His family stood with him in front of the monitor, their expressions just as horrified as him, the familiar situation causing dread to settle in the pit of Bruce’s stomach.

The monitor showed you, alive and well with the exception of your eyes seemingly more dead and lifeless than before. Everything was the same from your emotionless face to your vigilante suit that you died in, but Jason could see right through you. This wasn’t you. This you wasn’t his.

Not when you were standing in the same room as the Joker who you’d immediately kill if you were put together.

Jason was even more certain you weren’t his when he sees you up close, your personality different from that sophisticated, nonchalant yet wonderful one you had before. You’re just… blank. A dead person living without humanity and following orders. You don’t follow orders, you hated being controlled.

The familiarity makes his chest clench and hurt. He’s been through this exact thing, he never thought you would experience it too.

“I don’t want to fight you, baby.” Jason whispered, voice cracking. His helmet hiding the heartbroken look on his face that you were standing in front of him with your sais pointed dangerously in his direction.

You scowled. He��s somehow familiar, your chest erupting in unknown emotions that Talia never taught you about. The urge to hold him close was tugging at the strings of your heart, but you stay glued to your spot. “I do not know you, fool.” You emotionlessly remark.

Hurt flashed across his face. There’s nothing he wanted more than to be held by you and hold you close, but how could he when you don’t recognise him? Did they brainwash you? Your memories lack, but they could come back, right?

“Red Hood,” Batman warningly calls his name when you lowered your stance.

Jason still didn’t pull out his guns.

“Baby, it’s me.” He whispered weakly. “Please, you said you’ll hold me again. You’ll crawl out of dirt to hold me or pull me under with you, remember?” Jason tried again, tears shimmering his eyes. His throat burned.

Your eyes narrowed, brows furrowing. You feel like you’ve told him that, but couldn’t remember. Something was banging on your head from the depths of your mind that made it throb. Gripping your sais, you desperately ignored the pain to focus on your task.

“Ignore it,” Talia’s voice entered your ears. “Kill him.”

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

“Fuck!” Jason yelps when you managed to slash him on his leg, dodging your next attack quickly. “Wait— please, listen to me!”

“Red Hood, watch out!” Red Robin shouts just as Jason narrowly avoids your sai flying towards his head.

He couldn’t find any other way to get you to listen. The way you attempted to tune him out makes him believe you were feeling something, but there’s nothing he could do when you keep coming at his throat. Desperation runs through his veins, heart still bleeding out for you even as you try to kill him. The coldness in your eyes was foreign that carved another scar in his heart, but he can’t hate you no matter what.

Jason’s heart jackhammered against his ribcage when you finally caught him by the throat and slammed him harshly on the floor, your murderous look that he always loved plastered over your face. He stops struggling after realising he could never hurt you again, and slowly hovers his hand over your wrist. Your grip on his throat was tight, but Jason couldn’t be bothered to panic.

He finally had you again at last. Why should he panic when the source of his life was so near to him?

“Have you gotten exhausted of fighting back?” You calmly tilted your head, curiosity in your eyes. Jason doesn’t miss the split seconds of conflicted look.

“I can’t,” He replies quietly. “I love you, baby. Never stopped.” His other hand raised to remove his helmet, ignoring Bruce’s protest, and your grip on his throat faltered as soon as you make eye contact with the emerald eyes that you adore too much.

“I don’t want to fight you. So kill me,” Jason mumbled with a soft voice. “Allow me to love you one last time and stab my heart with your sai. For a life without you is a life full of unquenchable thirst and eternal hunger unworthy of surviving.” He recited your own quote back to you with a tearful smile.

Closing his eyes, peace overtakes Jason for the first time in a long while since losing you as he waits for the abrupt pain of being pierced through the heart. However, all that came was softness attaching itself to his lips.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

Jason snaps his eyes wide open in shock at your lips pressing against his, the death grip on his throat loosening just to hover affectionately over it. His body naturally reacts, moving on its own to reciprocate your kiss and relish in it, arms flying up to wrap around your neck.

You pulled away when he yearns for oxygen, a sob nearly escaping him again when he sees the love and warmth in your eyes. You smile gently at him, brightness returning to your previously dead eyes. “I’m deeply sorry, my love. I’m back.”

Jason tearfully chuckled and crushed you in a hug, heart rapidly beating against his chest. Relief wasn’t enough of a word to describe the happiness he felt. The feeling of being embraced tightly by you causing tears to stream down his face for the nth time, his longing and yearning finally being fulfilled. He missed this, he missed you, he missed his only home.

For I can’t help falling in love with you

Neither you nor Jason had left the bedroom since returning, having locked yourselves up in his room that you shared to obtain privacy for yourselves. None of the Waynes were bothered too much as they understood how much Jason yearned for your presence, the only comfort he’s ever had in his life.

Jason’s been holding onto you for dear life with the fear of you vanishing out of nowhere, his face buried on the crook of your neck and hand resting on your chest directly above your heart to feel it beating through his palm. Your arms securely wrapped around him in reassurance makes him feel more safe and at peace than he ever did. He pulls away slightly to look up, seeing you already staring at him with fondness and comfort.

“Don’t leave me again, please.” He croaks like a lost child, voice cracking.

You kissed his forehead. “I’d return to you in a heartbeat, my Jason.”

Jason stares into your gentle eyes, snuggling closer to you and intwining his legs with yours to feel every part of you. “Can’t live without you, baby.” He whispered.

You smiled. Perhaps, it was time to tell him.

Even death can’t severe the emotional bond and love you have for each other, which leaves one option; together. Falling out of love was never in either of your vocabulary, anyway.

For I can’t help falling in love with you

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toournextadventure · 14 days ago

Text

when you love it pt.3

Summary: Enid brings one of the children over for an extended career day.

Word Count: 5.9k Warnings: Swearing, flashbacks of violence Pairing: Wenclair x Vampire!Reader (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

If one more miserable soul dared to interrupt the single hour of peace you had somehow managed to thrust into your schedule, you would end up representing yourself in court.

“I think they want to bury you,” Sara said with a pathetically insincere laugh. She dropped yet another box down in the already overcrowded corner of your office.

With a sigh, you set your reading glasses down on the desk and looked up at the young assistant. Far too young, you weren’t convinced she was even old enough to meet the strict qualifications your office had set. Not even old enough to have the tired leaden look in her eyes that life brought upon those with the wisdom to know better.

Though, you supposed Wednesday would have qualified for the position at her age. Perhaps you should curb your judgment.

“I beg of you,” you said slowly, “don’t bring anymore until tomorrow.”

“But there’s still-”

“-Don’t,” you whispered. She met your eyes before nodding once and giving you a closed-mouth smile.

“I’ll put them away for today,” she finally said.

You watched closely while she shuffled back out of the door. Her smile was more genuine before she closed the door and you could, once again, fall back into your chair and breathe. Just close your eyes for a moment, forget the disaster of a case that was haunting your every waking moment, and breathe. Deep inhale… slow exhale.

Much better.

Soft light filtered through the closed curtains on the windows. Pain pierced the dark, leaving an ache in your eyes and a rumble within the very centre of your brain. You quickly placed the sunglasses until they rested comfortably on your nose. Or not, you thought as the glasses slid down slightly. It was, perhaps, time to go home and wash your face.

No, not home. An apartment, nothing more. No, that was a lie as well. It was slowly becoming slightly more home-like. The walls were no longer bare, holding precious pictures of the younglings and their mothers. On the kitchen counter was a rusted whisk your Little Bane had dug up from the park across the street. A black hair tie sat on the bathroom counter next to the hair dye-stained sink.

Your phone vibrated loudly against the wooden desk. Pain pricked the inside of your mouth, radiating from the point of your fangs. The words “Break Over” illuminated the screen. Taunting you. Slowly, your jaw opened, pulling your teeth from the fleshy sheath they had created within your cheeks. Your mouth was filled with a throbbing ache that was quickly sated with relief, much like removing a splinter from a wound.

A cold finger swiped over the screen, turning the alarm off. So much for a chance to breathe, you thought. Perhaps you could use the busy work once again. Each moment your eyes were closed was another moment stolen by desire of the past. A useless endeavour if ever you had seen one.

Your phone vibrated on the desk once more. The image that appeared left your lip curling in disgust. Nonetheless, you picked it up and answered the call as you stood up from your desk and walked toward the ever-growing mountain of boxes.

“What do you want, Bas?” You asked, annoyance already dripping from your tongue.

“Always so hostile,” he said with a chuckle. “Can’t a brother call just to talk with his sibling?”

“No.” You pushed a box onto the ground and watched the contents spill out.

“One day, you’re gonna miss talkin’ with me,” he said. “You’ll be in a bind and think ‘Damn, I sure do wish Bas was here to help me out.’”

“What do you want, Bastien?” You repeated. Your fingers itched with the wanton desire to hang up.

“How’s your little rougarou?” A chair creaked on the other end of the line. Asshole. “Or your pretty little witch?”

“You have two seconds to get to the point,” you said gently. The bones of your spine cracked as you bent to pick up a file.

“That witch’s blood turned you rancid.”

“Good day, Bas-”

“-Hold on!” Your finger froze over the “end call” button. Something shifted on the other end of the line; you waited impatiently. “You heard from Constance lately?”

“Why would I?”

“'Cause she’s your sister.”

“I barely talk to you,” you mused. Pages flipped past your fingers. “Try again.”

“She got one a’them on her heels.”

You hissed and dropped the file. A small bead of blood engorged itself on the small papercut on your fingertip. The lack of light left the droplet appearing dark and ominous. You needed to get home and have a drink before long.

“One of what?” You asked. You lifted your finger to your mouth, licking it clean. The small cut healed over quickly.

“Daddy’s friends,” he whispered. “The mean ones.”

Your head lifted slowly. “Mawmaw Laveau?”

“Mawmaw would never,” Bas huffed in indignation. “Although word on the street is she’s achin’ to give you a whippin’.”

“What for?” You asked. “I ain’t- didn’t do anything.” You slammed the pile of paper down on a box. “Who’d you hear that from anyway?”

“You remember TJ?” You hummed in the affirmative. “He heard it from his ole lady, and she heard it when she was gettin’ her hair did.”

“Sue’s place?” You sat on a box.

“Where else?” He replied. “The ladies always talk way too loud, and one can’t help but to listen. They were talkin’ how Mawmaw’s been askin’ if you’ve been around, say she just wants to talk.”

“Mawmaw ain’t never wanna just talk,” you mumbled.

“Say she’d at least let you pick your own switch.”

You sighed. “She mad as hell.” The box groaned underneath you. “You sure she’s lookin’ for me?”

“That’s what TJ’s ole lady said, and she ain’t never got gossip wrong.”

“Shit,” you whispered. You’d need to call Mawmaw soon; you were too old to be picking a switch.

Wait.

“Who’s chasing Constance?” You asked. Feet planted firmly on the ground, you stood up and started digging through files once again. Not that it mattered; you weren’t paying attention.

“Hmm? Oh, them Hunters are after her.”

“She better not bring those classless bastards up here,” you said. “I have a reputation.”

“And your forbidden loves.”

You were drowning in the blood you had stolen. Your head lolled to the side even as you coughed again, spewing blood into the air like some demented fountain. A werewolf was across the room, hovering over Wednesday even as it transformed back into a person. Back into Enid. Her bare skin was shredded.

“If she shows up, I’ll turn her away,” you said with a shake of your head.

Bas sighed on the other end. “Family used to mean somethin’ to you, ya know.”

Your eyes squeezed shut. Bas’ words gently bounced off the inside of your skull, moving back and forth like the old DVD logo. No, he wasn’t going to guilt you into putting yourself and everyone else in danger. If Constance couldn’t keep her head down, that was on her.

“She would help you out.”

“Jesus, Bas, fine,” you groaned. “If she comes by, I’ll do what I can.”

“Knew you loved us,” he taunted.

“Good bye, Bastien.”

“Bye, cher-”

-You ended the call before he finished. A shaky hand placed the phone back on your desk before you returned to looking at the files. That you had pushed onto the floor. Like a petulant child.

“Why would I do that,” you whispered to yourself in disappointment.

Instead of picking up the papers like the sensible, mature adult that you were, you plopped onto the floor. They were going to remain a mess whether they were in the box or not, so you might as well make yourself comfortable. From the looks of it, you had at least another two weeks of nonstop work ahead of you just to sort what was useful and what wasn’t.

The passage of time marched ever forward. With your phone across the desk and all clocks removed - after The Great Skip, as Sara called it so fondly - you kept track by the drinks that appeared by your hand. As the afternoon passed, teas were left in the nicer, law firm-branded mugs. When the sun set, tall glasses of cola were set neatly on the hotel coasters you had stolen and brought back. The moment morning rolled around, steaming coffee in your personal, broken mugs brought you comfort.

You had only gone through six boxes.

Every fibre in your body stiffened when your office door opened. Janice poked her head in, blinking frantically in what you assumed was an attempt to see in the dark room. When unsuccessful, she mumbled a “for Christ’s sake” before the overhead light flickered on.

In a disgusting caricature, you hissed and lifted a hand to cover your eyes.

“You have a call on line two,” she said.

You rubbed your eyes harshly, leaving stars in your vision. “Who is it?”

“A Wednesday Addams?”

Come on, Willa, put it down.

Your mouth watered.

“Want me to push it through?” Janice asked.

Pages flipped past your fingers. Wednesday’s mug sat dutifully by your knee, nearly empty of the coffee it had held. Black, for her. You were supposed to call her a few days ago. She had made you promise after your Little Bane had finished talking with you over some sort of game they had wanted you to learn for them.

“I’m busy,” you said against the knot in your throat.

Janice looked down at the paper in your hand with a raised brow, but otherwise shrugged. “I’ll let her know.”

She slipped out of the door, leaving you alone in the overly bright, oppressive room. Perhaps, with the added threat of Wednesday calling back again - and again, and again, and again - you could work more efficiently. After all, the longer you were at the office, the more likely Wednesday would just show up.

That in itself was terrifying.

You were nearly finished with another seven boxes when the door opened once again. Janice threw it open, allowing it to slam against the wall. Nothing new for your office, you didn’t even flinch.

“Just a moment,” you said, pushing the glasses back up your nose as you searched for a particular name… ah ha, there it was.

“Go home,” Janice said.

“Mmm after a while,” you replied.

The file in your hands lifted upward.

“Hey,” you griped.

“Go home,” Janice said again.

A woman with more kids than you could count - all boys, bless her soul - and a husband who actually pulled his fair share, Janice was not a woman to be trifled with. The moment her hands rested on her hips, everyone knew they were done for.

Just as you were in that moment.

“I’m not quite done, darling,” you said softly, hoping the gentle words would ease her anger.

It did not.

“Go home now or I’m changing the locks on you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“I’m calling your bluff,” you threatened.

You were wrong. In reality, Janice was no match for your strength, you both knew it. However, when she packed your bag and pushed you out the door, what were you supposed to do? Fight her? Absolutely not, you were no fool. The sun was bright and you were tired, and with that, you returned home.

—---

You had just finished drying off from your shower when you heard a knock at the door. Four rapid knocks, a little heavy handed. Deft fingers tied the string on your sweats as your bare feet padded across the living room. Three more knocks.

“I’m coming,” you said just loud enough for whoever was on the other side to hear. For the love of the maker, you hoped it wasn’t Consta-

“-Hi,” Enid said with a gentle smile.

All the breath left your lungs. “Hello.”

“You two are disgusting,” Ophelia grumbled, pushing her way into your apartment as if she owned it.

Definitely Wednesday’s child.

“Don’t touch my things,” you called back to her. The Addams’ child was nothing if not a particularly adept kleptomaniac.

“Don’t tell me what I can’t touch,” she called back.

You opened your mouth to argue, but promptly shut it. Keep it together, you thought. The child was well aware of what she was doing, and she did it every single time you had the misfortune of crossing her path. She was your mortal enemy, and if she wasn’t the eldest of your lost loves, you would have slain her where she stood ages ago.

She was your favourite.

“Sorry,” Enid said, “she’s in a mood.”

“Since when is she not,” you questioned, stepping aside and ushering Enid into the apartment. She, too, knew where to go.

“You’re out of food,” Ophelia called as you entered the kitchen.

“Then get out of my fridge,” you shot back.

“I’ll put it on your card.”

The child grabbed your wallet from the counter and walked into the living room, throwing herself on the couch. You cringed when she lifted her feet, putting her shoes on the furniture. Animal, you thought with a sneer.

“Are you simply here to steal my money and dirty my furniture?” You asked.

“Yes-”

“-No,” Enid said quickly. “Ophilia had something to ask you.”

“And she couldn’t have called?” You asked.

“Ew,” came from the couch.

“Wednesday tried a few times,” Enid said. “You… never answered.”

Her smile fell slightly and the drop crushed your unbeating heart. Of course. Wednesday wasn’t one to call over frivolous matters. If you had been a sensible person, you could have avoided all of this. Including the teenager that was still flipping through your wallet.

You sighed. “What is your question?”

Ophelia slammed the wallet shut. “I’m so glad you asked.” She stood up and stalked over to you, much the same way her mother did. “I have decided to become a criminal defence lawyer and, as such, would like to shadow you for a few weeks.”

“Weeks?” You asked.

“Well a day simply won’t cover all the necessary information, and one week is barely scratching the surface,” she explained. “No, a few weeks is necessary for an optimal learning environment.”

“And where do you think you will stay?” You asked.

“Here?” She replied quickly. Sassy. “If I’m shadowing you, I need to witness every part of the lifestyle, not just the job.”

“Gomez already looked at renting an apartment for us,” Enid chimed in.

“There’s no need for that.” You gave her the most comforting smile you could manage against the onslaught of thoughts speeding through your mind.

“So you’re saying yes?” Ophelia asked.

You held your hand up, and silence fell upon the room. Deep breath in. Hold. Slow breath out. One thing at a time. The case you were working would be slow going and rather uninteresting, which would either bore the girl or excite her, you weren’t sure. Nonetheless, she would not be meeting actual criminals, which meant it was the perfect time.

Housing. Gomez had always been overly generous. One of the few people you had met that actually spent their obscene wealth instead of hoarding it. If Ophelia were to be staying for a much longer time, you would accept the rented apartment. For a few weeks? She could stay in yours, you had a spare room anyway.

You supposed you would need to stock up on more food so she wouldn’t wipe you out with disgusting takeout. And blood. She had the nasty habit of smelling like her mother…

“You cannot have access to anything confidential,” you said.

“No gorey secrets?”

“None.”

“Shame, but fair,” she said with a shrug.

“And you relinquish control of my wallet.”

You held your hand out toward her and waited. And waited. Enid giggled beside you but quickly hid it behind her hand. Well, attempted; you could still hear her. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach and up through your throat. Thank the maker you couldn’t blush.

Ophelia rolled her eyes. “Fine, take it.” She slammed the wallet into your outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” You slid the wallet into your pocket. “When would you like to start?”

“Now,” she said quickly, “I’ll go get our stuff from the car!”

Oh. Oh, they had already brought their stuff? You turned slowly and looked at Enid. She couldn’t hide her own blush, but you didn’t mind. You found it rather attractive to see her face flushed with blood. Delicious even. Fangs pricked at the inside of your lips and you quickly turned your sight elsewhere.

“She had an entire argument ready in case you said no,” Enid said softly. The floor creaked before you felt her warmth against your arm.

“I’ll have her turn it into a closing argument,” you said. “Give her a chance to practice.”

“Careful,” that warmth turned into a soft hand resting on your bicep. “She is 100% Wednesday’s daughter. She’ll have you here for a week.”

“She’s already holding me hostage in my own apartment,” you teased.

Then you hesitated. Enid’s nails absentmindedly scratched against your skin, just light enough to tickle. You had kept her at (mostly) arm’s length for a long while. If you ever snapped, you refused to allow her to be on the other end of it. Not again.

But you missed her touch oh so much.

Small gestures, you could manage that. You lifted your opposite hand and placed it over hers, fingers instantly finding the small scars that littered her skin. Not all of them were from you, which left an uneasy peace within your mind. Just the feel of her hands underneath yours brought joy back into your cold chest.

“Will you be staying?” You asked quietly, your eyes meeting hers.

Until she looked away. “I wasn’t sure if you would be comfortable with it.”

You wouldn’t. If you hurt her, if you hurt Ophelia, it would kill you. You would walk to the nearest hunter - perhaps the one chasing Constance - and offer yourself. With her being so close, it was almost inevitable something would happen. You couldn’t rely on luck to keep them safe. After all, where had luck gotten you before?

But if there was ever one person that could stop your violence, it was her.

“I would love if you stayed,” you said.

The look on Enid’s face was exactly like the one you had seen back in college. When you would bring her one of her sweet treats after a rough day. After offering to draw her a bath when she was tired. On those nights when Wednesday was out studying and you both sat watching the stars, waiting for her to come home.

It broke your heart.

“I’m not staying if you two are going to act like that the whole time.”

Enid’s face reddened. “Would you like some help with your stuff?”

“Yes please,” Ophelia said. “If I don’t keep you busy, we might end up with another Addams.”

“To your room,” you said, pointing in the direction of the guest room. Not like she didn’t already know where it was.

“My room?” She asked, looking you dead in the eyes as she passed. “Seems we get another Addams anyway.”

Enid rushed off, and the warmth of her hand vanished too quickly. Within seconds, you were craving her touch again. It left an unusual tingle on your skin that you couldn’t quite describe. Pathetic, really. And yet, surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Not this time.

—---

The change of pace within your miniscule household was… nice. Enid slept in your room, even though she had argued for a solid 13 minutes over the fact. Yet you had prevailed, insisting on sleeping on the couch because “family does not ‘couch surf’.” Ophelia had, of course, taken notes through the entire debate, and you were thoroughly interrogated afterward.

Dinners were shared at home. No more late nights at the office, not when a child’s health was at stake. Not to mention Janice wouldn’t have allowed it anyway. Enid was a spectacular cook, Ophelia as well, and they teased you each time you attempted to help. Instead, they relegated you to grocery shopping (though they teased you for that as well).

The two of them worked like a well-oiled machine. While Enid claimed the girl was all Wednesday, you disagreed. You could see it in their humour, or the specific way they fidgeted with their hands. While incorporating a few more blacks than her senior, their fashion sense was identical.

Time at home was something to crave instead of dread. There was joy and laughter within the walls. What once was a dwelling of anguish and blood was now… bright. For the first time in a long time, you had something to look forward to again. All that was missing was Wednesday.

One step at a time, you reminded yourself each night. Wednesday’s blood was tempting even after finishing a meal. Bas had suggested what he called “micro dosing.” Small moments with her, enough to get you used to her scent again until it was nothing more than background noise. You begrudgingly agreed it was… a wise idea.

Perhaps, with Ophelia smelling just like her, you could get to that point sooner rather than later.

“Don’t forget lunch!” Enid said as you ushered Ophelia out the door. The prosecution had delivered another two dozen boxes to your office, and you needed to get a move on.

“Thanks,” Ophelia said quickly, grabbing the lunchbox Enid had gotten her. It matched yours.

Enid pressed a kiss to her cheek and rushed her forward. You gave her a small smile and thanked her for the lunch as well. Before you could leave, you felt warm lips on your own cheek. Every nerve in your body short circuited, freezing you in place.

When had you last felt the warmth of her lips?

“It’s just a kiss, let’s go.”

Enid pulled away first. Unlike the small touches she left throughout the day, this left a lingering heat. It radiated from where her lips had been to the rest of her face and… oh. Oh, that was what a blush felt like. You were blushing. She had made you blush.

Oh.

“We’ll go for a walk after work,” Enid said. “Now go, you’ll both be late.”

She pushed you - with more force than necessary for a human, but the perfect amount for you both - until you were out the door with Ophelia. Your mind was still a jumble of feelings, no words would form. Nothing but warmth.

“Mother would laugh at you,” Ophelia said.

She wasn’t much better as she grabbed your hand and pulled you with her, leaving a second heat on your skin. It was… nice to hold her hand. Like she wanted you to be near, desired your presence. Was that… was that how Wednesday and Enid felt with all their children?

Was this parenthood?

Janice handed you both a mug of coffee on the way to your office. She had taken a liking to Ophelia - who wouldn’t? - and made it her goal to keep the girl fed and hydrated with whatever she wished. ‘Don’t spoil her,’ you had begged to no avail. It was a fruitless endeavour, you had abandoned it within a day.

No surprise in the least, Ophelia was rather good at digging through documents. You had said she couldn’t read anything confidential but… well, it wasn’t like your clients were the most upstanding citizens. After all, you simply had to tell the judge once that it was an internship, and she had readily accepted the arrangement.

The routine was rather simple. Together, you had hammered it out within two days. Ophelia would look for anything involving the criteria you had given her, and you would dig deeper to see if it was useful or not. On occasion, she would make the executive decision if it was helpful or not. Her intuition was rather impressive.

Half a dozen boxes had been searched and removed by the time lunch came along. Neither of you would have noticed if Janice hadn’t told you she was going to pick something up. She had smirked at your matching lunchboxes before leaving.

You both ate in silence. It was rather nice. It reminded you of the countless hours you spent with Wednesday. Not a single word, just enjoying each other’s presence as you did your own thing. You shouldn’t compare Ophelia to her mother as often but it was the only thing you had.

“You’re the one who tried to kill my moms.”

You choked on your tea, barely recovering before shooting a look at Ophelia. She wasn’t looking at you, just eating like normal. For a moment, you weren’t sure she had spoken at all.

She looked up at you. “I know what vampire bites look like.” She shrugged. “And claws.”

Her face remained impassive. You couldn’t gauge a single thought or emotion. A useful skill for a lawyer, not so much for someone who had somehow pieced together that damning piece of information.

“What makes you say that?” You asked.

“They didn’t tell me,” she said quickly. “I pieced it together myself.”

Her icy blue eyes stared into the spot where your soul should have been. The chill sunk deeper into your bones.

The women you loved. They were bleeding out.

“I figured that’s why you flinch when mom touches you,” she continued. “It hurts her feelings.”

You killed them both.

“Auntie Yoko says I smell just like mother,” she said, finally setting her sandwich down and forcing you to hold her gaze. “Do you wish to drain me too?”

It only exacerbated the sharp pain in your chest to see just how much you had taken from her. From your girl. Your Wednesday.

“No,” you said softly. “I would rather be staked.”

The thought of being so near to her forced a shake into your fingers. Your words rang true, whether she believed them or not. If anything were to happen to her by your hand… the thought wouldn’t even form in your mind. It was unfathomable. Nothing could cause you to lay even just a finger on her. You couldn’t.

“Good,” Ophelia said just as softly. She rolled her shoulders back and grabbed her sandwich once again. “Because mom would totes wreck your shit again.”

The day continued as usual, for everyone else. Work was completed, more boxes were removed, and the weather on the walk home was nice. Ophelia talked of the things she had discovered and you knew you should be proud of her. Her work ethic was admirable, and she was beyond clever.

At home, your girls talked of their days. Endless, animated discussions about the weather, what they had done, the cute little frog they had seen earlier. Like mother like daughter, of course. They just talked and talked and took no notice of you setting your things by the door and walking to your office.

The door closed with an almost inaudible click. Everything was in its place, and you quickly reached for the mini-fridge in the small closet. Inside were three bags of blood. Like an animal, you ripped the top off the first and devoured it, the cool liquid pouring down your throat.

It didn’t quench the pain.

You repeated the action with the other two bags, feeling engorged yet unsatisfied. The ache was still present. It was a small miracle you couldn’t see yourself in the mirror; you could feel the damp spots on your shirt and the stickiness on your lips. You opened your mouth to speak and felt the liquid spew from your lips, falling down your face in all directions. You fell into your chair, eyes glued to the red dripping from your fingers. Why did it not help?

Knuckles rapped lightly on your door, but you didn’t comprehend what it meant. The blood stained your fingers quickly. Even if you scrubbed, it wouldn’t come off. It never came off.

A soft hand rested on the spot where your neck connected to your shoulder. You flinched. Their nails scratched lightly against your skin. Fingers pushed past skin and now-exposed muscle. You would recognise the warmth even in the fires of hell.

“So,” Enid said softly. “Ophelia knows.”

“Do you believe I would hurt her?” You asked.

In the mirror, you could see Enid looking down at you. The look in her eyes was different. Pitiful, maybe? Gears turned behind those blue eyes, considering your question. Her answer would dictate the next step. If they were both concerned you would hurt her, you would leave. There was a couch in your office, you could sleep there. It was comfier than the one at your own apartment, you wouldn’t complain.

Enid’s other hand rested on the other side of your neck. Your eyes fell shut at the pure comfort from her touch alone. You could die happy with her hands around your neck, if she so wished it. It would be a rather intimate way to go.

You felt helpless as she tilted your head up. When your eyes opened, you were met with her unwavering gaze.

“If I believed that,” she started slowly, “I wouldn’t have let her stay here.”

Her nails scratched the underside of your jaw. She was close enough that you could smell the perfume she sprayed directly behind her ear. A delectable scent that was entirely Enid. Not overly sweet with a hint of citrus. After all these years, she still wore what appeared to be a strawberry lip gloss.

She was too close.

“You wanted to go on a walk,” you said quickly.

Enid didn’t move.

“Ophelia wanted to go out,” she said. “She’ll be gone for a while.”

“How do you know?”

“She took your wallet.”

You sighed. Of course she had. If she kept it up, your wallet would be kept under lock and key, not even you would be able to use it. That girl was going to rob you blind one day. And by the looks of it, you were going to let her.

“Want to watch a movie with me?” Enid asked.

“Are your parents home?” You asked.

“It never stopped you before,” she said with a smile that you couldn’t help but mirror. “Please?”

How could you say no to her perfected puppy-dog face?

“I’ll change while you get it ready,” you said.

Your undead heart raced in your chest as you both went your separate ways to get ready. The sounds from the TV echoed through the apartment. You stood in front of your dresser, looking at the options, as worried about what to wear as you had been on your first date with her. It left you as giddy as a college kid again.

It took only a moment to put a shirt and shorts on, determined to keep it cozy. You rushed to the bathroom to clean the blood from your face and hands; you needed to be presentable. Thankfully, Enid was wearing the same and already had a spot saved on the couch. A spot directly beside her. Where you would be able to feel her warmth against your thighs.

Deep breath in. Hold. Slow breath out.

“I picked a good one,” she said enthusiastically. “It suits you.”

You couldn’t hold in your laughter as she pressed “play” on Legally Blonde.

“That’s going to be Ophelia one day, just you watch.”

“She’d never be caught dead in pink,” Enid teased.

The movie started, and Enid placed a bowl of popcorn between the both of you, held in place by one of your thighs and one of hers. Strategic. It put just enough space between the two of you that you could feel yourself relax. You couldn’t hurt her over popcorn.

College flashed before your eyes. Watching movies with Enid, which inevitably ended in not watching the movie at all. Her lips on your neck and hands on your hips. Her smooth skin under your carefully controlled teeth. The movie longnce, t forgotten on even the worst of days.

Warm fingers brushed against yours. You blinked once. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Enid’s fingers brushing against yours in the popcorn bowl. Breath caught in your throat. What should you do? Enid never did anything accidentally.

Fuck it.

With buttery fingers, you flipped your hand and wiggled your fingers between hers. It was messy and childish. Enid instantly squeezed your hand owice, three times. Something the three of you had done in college when words were too much, but a gesture was just enough. Three squeezes for three words. Your chest ached.

You turned to face her. She was already looking at you with those hooded eyes that had always been a weakness for you and Wednesday. Enid would play dumb to get ahead, but it never worked for the both of you. You were painfully aware of the tactics she used. The only difference was you still fell for it.

It couldn’t happen. Your eyes searched out every scar she left unhidden. Each bite and clawmark she had received by your hands. You had marred her skin permanently; she would carry you with her until the day she died. It couldn’t happen.

She bit her lip.

Fuck it.

The popcorn bowl fell to the ground as you rushed forward to press a kiss to her lips. Almost instantly, her hand lifted to wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you closer. She tasted of fake butter and too much salt. Her lips were just as soft as you remembered. Softer even, if you were being honest. Blood rushed beneath her skin, sending an electrifying jolt everywhere you touched her. You could hear each heartbeat, forcing your own to match the erratic rhythm.

It was a clumsy kiss. Enid leaned forward to capture your lips again. Something sharp stung the inside of your cheek. Your eyes flew open. You pulled away quickly and turned your face, readjusting your jaw in an attempt to keep your fangs back in check.

“Are you okay?” Enid asked quickly, sitting up and following your movements.

You hummed in reply but started focusing on the pieces of popcorn littering the floor.

“Fangs?” She asked.

Silence. You nodded slowly.

“Performance issues aren’t uncommon in older vampires.”

Your head turned so quickly the bones in your neck cracked. Her hand was already covering her mouth, which you knew hid a smile.

“How dare you,” you whispered.

“I’m just saying, it’s fine,” she said with a shrug. Her hand finally lowered to her lap. “No pressure.”

��That’s pretty rude, Mrs. Addams,” you said.

Enid moved across the couch until she was leaning against your arm. You remained still, allowing her to do as she wished. She removed her hand from yours - you instantly missed the warmth - and pulled your arm over her shoulder until she was cuddled securely into your side.

“This works just fine,” she said. She shimmied a little more until she was situated perfectly. “Wednesday will be jealous.”

Her fingers interlocked with yours again as she fell silent, watching the movie. Your fangs still pricked the inside of your mouth, but it was manageable. Enid was horrifically warm against your side, and her fingers scratched against your skin, and for the first time in over a decade you let yourself lean back on the couch and relax with one of your girls in your arms.

#wenclair x reader #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader

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lovrx-s · 4 months ago

Text

Misplaced Priorities

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

Contains: Angst, Rape

You stared at your phone, Jenna’s text lighting up the screen for the fourth time in two weeks.

“Hey, Percy needs me for something. Can we rain check? Love you.”

The dinner reservation you’d been so excited about was now pointless. You looked down at the little black dress you’d carefully chosen, mocking you from where it hung on the closet door.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. What could you even say?

Instead of replying, you dropped your phone onto the bed and sat down, burying your face in your hands. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the now-familiar feelings of rejection and disappointment welled up inside you.

It wasn’t just tonight; this was becoming a pattern. Jenna always had time for Percy. It didn’t matter how much you planned or how much you tried—he was the constant in her life.

You thought back to the first time she canceled on you. It was supposed to be a movie date—a rare day off for her during filming. You’d been excited, even giddy, but then she called.

“I told you, Percy’s my friend!” she snapped when you asked why she couldn’t reschedule with him.

“I know that, but it feels like you’re choosing him over me,” you said, your voice trembling.

“God, Y/N, not everything’s about you! Why do you always make it about you?”

That night, you cried yourself to sleep.

Things only got worse from there. On the rare occasion Jenna did show up, she was late or distracted. One time, you planned a picnic at your favorite park. She arrived two hours late, unapologetic and laughing about something Percy had said earlier that day.

You hated him.

But it wasn’t just because of the time he monopolized. There was something deeper, something Jenna didn’t know.

The Wednesday Season 1 wrap party was supposed to be a celebration. You weren’t much of a party person, but Jenna had convinced you to come.

“Just for a bit,” she’d said, her smile lighting up the dim room. “I want you there with me.”

The music was loud, the lights dim. You clung to Jenna at first, but as the night went on, she drifted off to mingle, leaving you alone. That was when Percy approached you.

“You look tense,” he said, handing you a drink.

You hesitated but accepted, not wanting to seem rude. “Just not much of a party person.”

He laughed. “Come on, loosen up. It’s a celebration!”

The drink was bitter, the alcohol burning your throat. But as the minutes passed, something felt off. Your limbs grew heavy, your vision blurred, and the room spun.

“Hey, you okay?” Percy’s voice was close—too close.

“I… I don’t feel good,” you murmured, your head lolling.

The next thing you remembered was waking up in an unfamiliar room, your clothes disheveled, and Percy sitting on the edge of the bed, smirking.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said casually, as if what he’d done was nothing.

You didn’t tell anyone. Who would’ve believed you? Percy was charming, well-liked. And you were just… you.

Jenna’s parents’ anniversary party was supposed to be a celebration, but you felt out of place the moment you walked into the house. Laughter and chatter filled the air as family and friends mingled, but all you could feel was the growing distance between you and Jenna.

She’d barely said two words to you since you arrived, her attention flitting between her parents, siblings, and a dozen other people. You sat quietly in the living room, nursing a glass of water and trying to blend into the background.

After what felt like hours, you slipped outside to the backyard, needing air. The night was cool, the stars above twinkling in the clear sky. You wrapped your arms around yourself, letting the silence soothe your frayed nerves.

“Hey,” Aliyah’s voice startled you.

You turned to see her standing at the patio door, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Mind if I join you?”

You hesitated but nodded.

She walked over, standing beside you. “You’ve been quiet tonight. Actually, for a while now.”

“I’m fine,” you said automatically, your gaze fixed on the stars.

Aliyah gave you a skeptical look. “Come on, Y/N. I know ‘fine,’ and this isn’t it. What’s going on?”

You sighed, your shoulders sagging. “It’s nothing, Aliyah.”

“Bullshit,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “Talk to me.”

The lump in your throat grew as tears welled up in your eyes. “I don’t think Jenna and I are okay.”

Aliyah frowned. “Why not? You two are always so solid.”

“Not lately,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “She’s always with Percy. She cancels on me all the time, and when I try to talk to her about it, she shuts me down. She makes me feel like I’m the problem.”

Aliyah’s frown deepened. “That’s not fair to you.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling. “It’s more than that.”

Aliyah waited, her expression softening.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “At the Wednesday wrap party… he drugged me.” Your voice broke, and you felt tears streaming down your face. “And he… he didn’t stop, even when I begged him to.”

Aliyah’s face hardened, her hands clenching into fists. “Y/N…”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” you continued, your voice shaking. “Who would believe me? And Jenna… she’s happy when she’s with him. I couldn’t ruin that for her.”

“She’d want to know,” Aliyah said fiercely. “She’d never choose him over you.”

“She already does,” you whispered. “Every time.”

The car ride home was silent. Jenna’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and you stared out the window, the weight of her overhearing your confession pressing down on you like an anchor.

Finally, Jenna pulled over to the side of the road, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice trembling.

You didn’t look at her. “What?”

“I heard you,” she whispered. “At the party. I heard what you told Aliyah.”

Your heart sank, the dread settling in your stomach like lead. “Jenna, I—”

“I didn’t know,” she interrupted, her voice breaking. “I didn’t know what he did to you.”

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to stay calm. “You didn’t want to know, Jenna. Every time I tried to talk to you about how I felt, you shut me down. You made me feel like I was the problem, like I was asking for too much.”

“I was selfish,” Jenna admitted, tears streaking her cheeks. “I was so caught up in my work and my friendships, I didn’t see what it was doing to you. But I swear, I’ll cut him off. I’ll never speak to him again.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “It’s not just about cutting him off, Jenna. It’s about trust. It’s about priorities. And you… you didn’t choose me.”

Her face crumpled. “I’m choosing you now. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. Just… please, don’t give up on us.”

You turned to her, your voice hollow. “Do you even realize how hard it was for me? Watching you laugh with him, defend him, when I couldn’t even tell you what he did? Do you know what that felt like?”

Jenna reached for your hand, but you pulled away, your throat tight. “I believed in us, Jenna. I loved you enough to stay quiet because I thought your happiness mattered more than my pain. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being second.”

Her lips trembled. “You’re not second. You’ve never been second.”

“Then why does it feel like I am?” you whispered, your voice cracking.

She didn’t have an answer.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You turned back to the window, blinking away the tears that blurred the streetlights outside.

“I need time,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “To figure out if I can forgive you. If I can move past this.”

Jenna’s breath hitched. “Please don’t walk away.”

“I’m not walking away,” you said softly. “But I’m not staying, either. Not until I know it’s safe to.”

Her sobs filled the car as she slumped forward, her hands gripping the wheel like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

When the car pulled into your driveway, you stepped out without another word. The sound of the door closing behind you felt like the end of something fragile, something that had once been beautiful but was now irrevocably broken.

You didn’t know if you could piece it back together.

And as Jenna drove away, the red taillights disappearing into the night, you stood there, wondering if you ever really could.

#jenna ortega x reader headcanon #jenna ortega angst #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader angst #angst #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #cairo sweet #cairo sweet x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader

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bomber-grl · 3 months ago

Text

Percy Jackson x Child of Hera 🦚

Pairing(s): Percy Jackson x Gn!Reader

The first thought Percy has is just trying to figure out how you even came to be. It’s nothing like Athena, where her kids pop out of her head fully formed. No, for you to exist, there has to be a human involved—because, well, it takes two to tango. Plus, Athena’s whole thing is marriage and loyalty, so the idea of a glowing mark appearing above anyone’s head at camp—especially one that’s never appeared before—raises a lot of eyebrows.

Naturally, drama follows. There’s also some confusion among Percy and the other campers. In both Greek Mythology and Percy’s life, Hera has been an antagonistic figure. And he’s not the only one with strong feelings about her. You’re guided to the Big House where Chiron and Mr. D discuss your existence while some nymphs clean out the Hera Cabin. The fact that “Hera Cabin” doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue should be proof enough that you probably shouldn’t exist.

Percy and Annabeth are there too and overhear the conversation. After some heated discussions, it’s decided that you’re a demigod (after much deliberation), and since you are, Chiron says you’re welcome at camp. Not everyone’s thrilled about it, though, and even Percy thinks it’s pretty unfair. Sure, your mom is probably the worst godly parent ever, but it’s not like you had any say in that. (Not that any of the other gods are any better, but still.)

Though you’re not exactly being embraced by everyone, some see you as a bit of a curiosity. Hera doesn’t have any powers that stand out, so no one knows what to expect from her potential demigod kids. Safe to say, you become a bit of a project and gain some attention—not always the good kind—and you’re quickly becoming well-known for not being too different from your mom in some aspects.

During a Capture the Flag game, your powers first show themselves. You’re ganged up on by a group of Ares kids, who Percy knows to be pretty close to each other. He figures you’re in serious trouble since – much like his first time participating in Capture the Flag, he wasn’t really mentally prepared– but then something weird happens. One Ares kid randomly notices the sibling on her right is wearing her favorite anklet—totally out of nowhere—and then, they both blow up in each other’s faces. The third one tries to break it up, but instead, they all turn on each other, leaving you the perfect opportunity to sneak away.

This keeps happening, and after a while, Percy finally starts to put two and two together. Annabeth, of course, is impressed by how long it took him to figure it out, and Grover had picked up on it a while ago. Turns out, you have the ability to influence people’s relationships, pulling out little resentments and using them to your advantage. You don’t just break up friendships—you mess with their bonds to get the upper hand.

Percy’s always liked his powers, but after watching you, he can’t help but sort of be jealous of yours. Then, realized this implied he wanted to be Hera's spawn ( not that being a big fat target of a Poseidon kid for monsters was any better.)

Soon, more powers started to emerge, and it was almost like waiting each Wednesday for an episode of your favorite show to air. First, there’s healing—or maybe protection? It’s hard to tell. Both? It happens during a training duel when you and a close demigod friend are sparring against another duo. Percy’s time at camp was always spent rushing around, but this time, he actually stopped to watch. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that you’re getting totally wrecked—like, it’s not even fun to watch anymore. Your ally’s shield disappears when one of the enemies strikes, and a sword is about to make contact with your friend. Quite literally almost drawing blood. Time seems to slow, but then he and likely the rest of the onlookers are pulled out of the trance. There you are, your wounds healing at an incredible rate, and even your friend’s injuries are disappearing too. The most impressive part? There’s an invisible barrier stopping the sword from going any further. You were kneeling in front of your somewhat fallen friend, shielding them from your opponent while drawing strength from it (rather your bond)

It ended in a draw, which Percy thought was total buttcheek. He doesn’t really care about it at the time, though. That opinion doesn’t become important until much later—when you two are already dating. I know, a big leap, but stick with me. It wasn’t long after the day you completely owned those arrogant Ares kids—fair and square—that they started scheming for revenge. They always did.

It’s late in the afternoon at Camp Half-Blood, the kind of quiet time when most campers are either training or lounging around the mess hall. Percy’s leaning against a tree, thinking of a way to tell Sally about what he’s been up to without worrying her out. He’s been on edge all day. The rumors about you—the one with the strange powers—have been flying around camp like wildfire. Some are saying you’ve got the ability to manipulate emotions, others think you can control the weather. Either way, no one knows exactly what you’re capable of, and that makes people uncomfortable.

Suddenly, the camp’s usual peace is interrupted by the sound of shouting—definitely not a good kind of shouting. Percy glances up and sees a group of Ares kids marching toward the training field, and standing in the middle of the group is you. You’re being dragged along, and your usual expression—slightly aloof, like you’re just there to observe—has been replaced with a look of annoyance.

Percy doesn’t have to guess what’s going on. The Ares kids have probably targeted you again, just like they did during Capture the Flag. He can already hear their more than lacking insults, Each one less cutting than the last. They don’t know how to deal with the idea of a demigod child of Hera showing up and making waves. Honestly, they’d probably prefer you were just a myth. Especially after you kicked their asses.

Without thinking, Percy jogs over to where the group is gathering. His first instinct is to stop the bullying, but as he gets closer, he sees something that gives him pause: you’re not fighting back, but you’re not backing down either. Instead, your eyes are focused on the ground as the Ares kids get closer, like you’re silently waiting for something.

Percy slows his pace as he gets within earshot. He’s not sure what’s going on, but he can tell something’s about to happen. It’s when one of the Ares kids, who Percy knows can be particularly nasty—steps too close to you, then it happens. Without warning, the person stops mid-sentence, his face a mix of confusion and... fear?

The others don’t notice at first, but Percy sees it clearly— his grip on his spear loosens, and he stumbles back, like he’s been punched in the gut. Then another Ares kid, this time a girl named, turns on her heel and starts yelling at him, her voice rising in anger. One by one, they start turning on each other, their camaraderie unraveling as small but vicious arguments break out among them.

It’s like they’ve all been possessed by their worst insecurities, and Percy can’t help but realize—this is what you can do. You’re pulling on the threads of their relationships, turning them against each other without even lifting a finger.

Before it gets too out of hand, Percy steps forward, his voice a little louder than usual. “Hey!” he calls out, making the group freeze. They turn to him, a mix of annoyance and confusion on their faces, but Percy ignores them and looks directly at you. “What’s going on here?”

You glance at him, your expression unreadable, but there’s a slight quirk on your lips. “You don’t know?” you say, almost too casually for the situation. “I just helped them... work out their issues.”

Percy raises an eyebrow, not sure if he should be impressed or worried. “That’s one way to do it, I guess.”

The Ares kids, now looking like they’ve completely lost their unity, begin to scatter. Percy watches them go, then turns his attention back to you. “You know,” he says, taking a few steps closer, “that was pretty impressive. And a little terrifying.”

You shrug, your nonchalance making Percy feel both confused and intrigued. “It’s not like I asked for it,” you reply. “It just... happens.”

He studies you for a moment. “Again?” He can’t help but grin slightly. “Can’t say I didn't see that coming.”

You meet his gaze, your eyes sharper than he expected. “Neither did I.”

Percy didn’t stick around camp as often as he could have, but every time he did, the two of you grew closer. Honestly, it got to the point where you both developed feelings for each other. It was a little weird for Percy to think of Hera as a mother-in-law, and on the flip side, you were more than happy to have Sally as yours. You two got along really well, and like Percy, she never held anything against you just because of who your mom is—or how, you know, terrible Hera can be. Percy was honestly just relieved that two of his favorite people got along so well.

But, on the other end? Well, that was a whole mess. Pardon my language, but it was absolute dog shit. While you were still figuring out how to balance your relationship with Percy, Hera kept a very watchful eye on you. There’s a definite possibility that she doesn't approve of him. Not to rule out her approving of him and giving you her support—though if that’s the case, it definitely creeps Percy out. It makes him question whether there’s something he’s missing or if she’s just being her usual irritating self.

And speaking of, Percy can’t believe he ever thought you might be like Hera, just because you were a little manipulative at times. I mean, really—it was just your power. It had nothing to do with your actual personality. And when the truth about how you came to be finally came to light? It was a major turning point. Likely figured out with a –one long and exhausting quest that helped you two get closer than ever– later.

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 8 months ago

Note

Wednesday x little sister reader, and shes protective like in a motherly way and reader is feeling a bit rebellious I suppose???

Fencing Accidents

|| Wednesday Addams x platonic!sibling!reader

|| Warnings; blood mentions, injured reader, bianca fighting with reader, brief murder mention

|| Summary; when Wednesday decides she's sick of reader, she sends Enid to keep her busy for a while. Enid tries finding something that could excite the reader and hopes fencing might be just what the reader needs.

Requests open!

Started; September 18th

Finished; September 19th

~~~

You were Wednesday Addam's little sister, so to say people at Nevermore Academy liked you... well, that would be a complete lie. Wednesday was pretty much the only person you hung out with. You didn't talk to her roommate Enid all that much; unless Wednesday insisted Enid hung out with you. Which has happened a few times, especially when one of you annoys her past her limits.

This was one of those times. You had bothered Wednesday while she was writing, so she sent Enid to distract you. The two of you sat out at the dorm's balcony, playing a game of cards.

"Go fish," Enid said with a smirk as she looked at you over her card hand.

You simply sighed. Enid had picked this game.

"I hate this," You reached down and picked up another card, adding it to your growing collection.

"You say that about everything, Y/N."

"Maybe because there isn't anything to like." You muttered, Enid frowned when she heard you and had a determined look in her eyes as she stood and grabbed your hand. Card game forgotten.

"Come on! We're going to find something for you to like then!" She said, a bounce in her step as she practically dragged you back into the dorm then into the hall.

Wednesday didn't even look at you guys as she typed away.

"Enid, please..." You tried to protest, but she gave your hand a little pull and smiled as she turned to look at you.

"Wednesday likes fencing, maybe we can start there?" Enid suggested.

"Wednesday also likes murder."

"Um... well-" Enid stuttered out, you fought back a smirk at her reaction. She was so easy to mess with," let's- let's just start with fencing, okay?"

And so that's how you found yourself in a fencing suit. About to face off Enid, the two of you had just gotten into position before Bianca walked over in her own fencing gear.

"Addams, if it's a challenge you're looking for... shouldn't someone more suited be your opponent?" Bianca asked, a certain look in her eyes that you knew just spelled trouble.

Something you were absolutely down for. She did have a point, Enid would not be able to keep up with you. You weren't great at fencing by any means but you weren't terrible either. You'd fenced with Wednesday a few times. Which was partially why you weren't entirely opposed to the idea when you heard it.

You sighed and shrugged," kay."

"Kay?" She repeated in confusion, she was expecting at least a little more of a reaction. But you were an Addams after all. She shared a look with one of the girls next to her who shrugged too. Seeming just as confused.

Bianca ignored that for now and got into position as you did the same.

The match started with you making the first lunge, Bianca blocked you and then lunged forwards herself. You made the decision to dodge as opposed to block.

This back and fourth would continue for the next few moments until you managed to get the first point and the match reset.

Y/N; 1 Bianca; 0

Enid clapped and cheered you on, looking rather excited. Maybe she was thinking she helped you find a hobby.

Really you were just happy to have an excuse to fight Bianca. The way she treated Wednesday always got on your nerves, so you saw this as your chance at some sort of revenge. And revenge was a hobby of yours.

"Masks off." Bianca spoke up, you raised an eyebrow at that.

"Masks off?" You repeated.

"Let's see how good you are without protective gear. We go until first blood." Bianca continued to explain.

"Like what you and Wednesday did?" You replied, having heard the very short version of the story from your sister before.

Bianca nodded," exactly."

This intrigued you. You were definitely fond of the idea of drawing blood, so you agreed. Which made Enid a little nervous.

Meanwhile with Wednesday, Thing had scrambled over to her. Frantically trying to get her attention. He had followed you and Enid, so he was trying to tell Wednesday what was happening.

"Thing, you know I do not like being disturbed during my writing hour." Wednesday didn't look up from her type writer.

Thing crawled onto it and placed himself right in front of the paper, blocking Wednesday's view as he kept trying to sign to her. Telling her what was happening.

"That's her problem, not mine." Wednesday stated," Now move if you value your fingers."

He tried again, explaining the whole going until someone bleeds. This caught Wednesday's attention as she remembered how her fencing match had gone with Bianca.

Back with you and Bianca, you had lost your match to her. With her managing to put a slice on your neck. Your fingers dabbed the spot, feeling the blood there. You couldn't help but grin even just a little.

"One more round?" You asked her, she raised an eyebrow.

"Haven't had enough?"

"Yes, she has." Wednesday's voice caught your attention as she seemingly appeared right next to you. Startling you a bit. When did she get there?

"Wednesday-" You started, she held her hand up to silence you. The look she gave Bianca was bone chilling.

"She's done here." Wednesday and Bianca seemed to be in some sort of stare off, you and Enid exchanged confused glances.

Bianca rolled her eyes and scoffed," whatever."

Wednesday turned to face you," let's go." Her tone was firm, leaving zero room for argument with you.

You groaned and followed after with Enid trailing not to far behind.

Back at the dorm, Wednesday patched up the cut on your neck. Not saying a word the entire time. You could just tell she was annoyed with you and you could practically hear the lecture that was coming.

When she was done, her ice cold gaze met your eyes and you couldn't help but shiver.

"Wednesday-"

"Not a word from you. I believed you to he smarter than that. Seems that I was wrong. You should go back to your dorm, before more trouble finds you."

You weren't exactly happy with how she talked to you, but you listened to her nonetheless. Not wanting to push your luck.

#x reader #fanfic #canon x reader #fem reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #sibling reader #wednesday sibling reader #platonic canon x reader #enid sinclair #bianca barclay

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ornii · 10 months ago

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My Bitter Better Half, Part 12

Wednesday sits in the center of her room, reciting a dark chant as she holds the necklace mother gave her. Her dark whispers echo faintly in the air as a dark sense of dread fills the air.

"In case you're wondering, I don't hold séances very often. I can barely tolerate the living. Why would I want to commune with the dead? But my mother told me Goody is the only one that can train me to control my psychic ability. The sooner I master that, the sooner I crack this case." Wednesday opens her eyes as the door behind her opens suddenly, as if her sick prayers have been answered, but unfortunately it was not. It was Her brother (Y/n).

“I didn't mean to interrupt your... what are you doing exactly.”

"I was reaching into the black maw of death to contact our relative." Wednesday explained, and (Y/n) raised an eyebrow.

"Without me?" He replied.

"I don’t need to consult you about everything.” Wednesday stood up.

“I had naturally assumed if you were going to contact the dead, an occult specialist would be your first contact. Goody?” He asked, reading the name on the Ouiji Board.

"She was one of the original outcasts. Been attempting to summon her, but she seems to be ignoring my entreaties."

"Can’t blame her, i wouldn’t want you bothering my enteral rest.” (Y/n) shrugged, before Wednesday could chastise her brother, a slip of paper comes from under the door, they turned to face the door and (Y/n) approached it.

"..Maybe Goody answered you after all." Her brother picks up the paper, reading it cutout magazine letters "If you want answers, come to Crackstone crypt at Midnight."

"I doubt she communicates in magazine cutouts." Wednesday said, “Perhaps someone in the schools finally grown a spine. Let’s see.” (Y/n) handed his sister the paper and walked out the room.

Night had crept on Nevermore and the twins are exploring the graveyard, heading to Crackstone crypt. “Wednesday… there’s something I have to speak with you about..” he started, and Wednesday kept walking.

“At this time? With whatever Crackstone has in store on the horizon?” She obviously seemed upset, “It’s not about that.. it’s about Enid.” He abruptly admits. Wednesday halted in her footsteps and turned around, “I could care less about your abhorrent romantic feelings.”

“That’s not the point.” He retorts, “Then what is your point?” She said.

“My point is that, whatever evil we’re going to come across in the future… keep her out of this, she’s…”

“A fool.” Wednesday was blunt.

“Innocent.” His reply was sharp. “Promise me, promise me you won’t drag her into whatever we’re doing.” (Y/n) was serious, for all his sarcasm and humor, he meant every word. The two stare at each other, and Wednesday reluctantly agrees. “Fine.”

They approach the massive stone door, Wednesday inhaled, the stench of death lingered in her lungs.

"Smells like our childhood. Come on." Wednesday entered the crypt first, (Y/n) following behind closely as sounds of animals and the window shoo them into the crypt, inside the old building, a single tomb laid in the center and markings etched along the walls. (Y/n) scanned along the walls. “Hmm..” (Y/n) mumbled.

“What?” Wednesday asked, “The Etching… I can roughly make some out, speaking of a.. revival.” He turned back to his sister, but a whisper caught his ear, he and Wednesday lock eyes and nod. They both turned in direction of where they heard it.

"Whoever you are, show yourself. Try anything and you'll lose limbs." She said, expecting a monster from the depths of Hell, she saw something even worse.. a Birthday cake. Enid, Ajax and others surround the two.

"Surprise! Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you / Happy birthday, dear Twins / Happy birthday to you!" They sing, which makes the twins frown.

"I should have known you two were behind this. What part of "no party under the penalty of death" do you not understand?" Wednesday notices Thing on Enid’s shoulder, she presents the cake, which was a grim reaper, with a pink balloon, black chocolate.

"I thought my cake design was pretty inspired." Xavier says.

"The pink balloon was my little touch. Why don't you both make a wish?" Enid says, (Y/n) smiled, “Thats.. very sweet of you Enid .. Wednesday do you want to—“ (y/n) stopped talking as he looked to his side to his missing sister. Wednesday was reading Latin that was etched into the side of the wall.

"Wait, it's Latin. Fire will rain... when I rise."

"That's not really a wish..." Enid frowned.

"The first part of that was burned onto Nevermore's lawn. It can't be a coincidence." (Y/n) walked up next to her, looking at the etching. “Whoever burned the message was here, knew about crackstone..” (Y/n) touched the etching with his sister, and two very odd things began to happen, Wednesday’s body froze as she had a vision, and (Y/n) felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned around to a ghostly version of his sister, who seems to be the goody she was trying to reach.

“Are you prepared to die for the truth?” Her question made his ears ring, a pounding headache echoed and, a dizzy spell hits (Y/n) and he collapsed.

(Y/n) awoke the next morning, in his bed, exhausted. Brushing the covers from his chest (Y/n) sits up, thing was waiting by his beside table. “That was.. odd.” He shook the cobwebs out of his mind and thing makes a few gestures. “That’s what happened.. interesting. I had my own vision of Goody, or.. it was her spirit making contact with me.. meaning Wednesday wasn’t losing her mind… I need to speak to my sister.”

Thing makes more signs, informing him of Wednesday being at the cafe. With Tyler.”

“I see…” gets out of bed and quickly gets dressed, “I won’t let that creep anywhere near my sister.. anyway, where did you say they were heading? Gates manor?” (Y/n) knew the location and made an uncomfortable trip there, reaching the manor in the dark he noticed a red car awaiting in the driveway. That was a red flag, (Y/n) took the steps and opened the door, like a ghost entering the void he felt, at ease.. but Enid’s scream of terror cut him off. He turned and faced her, surprised.

“What are you doing here?” They said to one another, he turned back to the front to Wednesday and Tyler, and (Y/n) scowled like an owl. “So… you disobey the one thing I ask you..” he said, and stared daggers at Tyler. “And brought… him.”

“It was my birthday.” Wednesday said.

“Our.. Birthday.” (Y/n) corrects her, “It’s always about you.. what could you possibly want in here?” He asked, Wednesday walked to the garage, (Y/n) followed annoyed, but his face turned to shock as he saw blood red lights fill the room, a blue Cadillac was inside.

"This hit the mayor." Wednesday said to her brother, as this mystery became much more dark, it isn’t just some entity.. it’s a sentient being, a person.. a killer.”

“This is—“ (Y/n) fumbled his words, and Enid frankly spoke for herself.

"Okay. This just took a dark turn. We need to call Tyler's dad right freaking now." Enid says, worries of what’s to come

"Why? So he can take me back to Nevermore and get me expelled? It's not gonna happen." Wednesday explores more of the house, (Y/n) clenched his fist.

"This is the night I'm gonna die." Tyler says sadly, “That would be a plus for me.” (Y/n) walks past him.

Enid was whimpering, gripping (Y/n)’s arm for dear life. They entered the living room and to a large family portrait of the Gates.

"Here they are. The Gates family. They scrub up well for psychopaths. There's Garrett, his outcast-hating father, Ansel, and you must be Laurel. They're all long gone. So the question is, why did Goody lead me here?" Wednesday said, (Y/n) looked at the photo. “He tapped his finger against it. “The back end is.. hollow. Gimmie a moment.” He leaned his head to the wall, his ear laying on the wood as he knocks on different parts of the mural. A shift in a pillar caught his ear and he pressed up against it.

The sound of interlocking mechanisms and shift the panel suddenly drops down. revealing a mural to Crackstone. (Y/n) stepped back to revel in the disgust.

"Who doesn't have a spooky built-in altar in their family library?" Tyler said looking at it with the flashlight.

"Ours is in the living room. More seating for year-long Dia de los Muertos." (Y/n) Said, “It’s impressive, Gaudy though.” He said, Wednesday peers at the candles on the mural, and touches them.

"They're still warm. (Y/n), Tyler, you two check the rest of the ground floor. Enid and I will search upstairs."

"We will?" Enid says looking at Wednesday, then she desperately looks at (Y/n) to save her, he reluctantly pats her head.

"It'll be fine, if you get scared I'll be Downstairs. Okay?” He smiled. Reassured, Enid reluctantly heads upstairs with his sister.

"All right, you go left, I go right." Wednesday said and stepped off

"You seriously want to split up? In here? That is literally how every best friend dies in a horror movie."

"The faster we search, the sooner you can leave with my brother.” Wednesday said, before Enid walked off by herself in a panic

"Why am I even here? I know what my mom would say. "Enid, you're a doormat." "You're too needy." "Show some teeth. Nobody likes a desperate little furball." Shut up, Mom. Get out of my head!" Enid yells.

Downstairs (Y/n) peered into a laundry room, old and decrepit, he sniffed the air, smelling a faint smell of perfume, someone was here. A woman, he knelt down and felt the ground, using what occult magic he knew he grabbed a vial of water and put it on the ground, casting a spell the water slowly morphs and forms shoeprints. “Women’s… well.. that’s—“ a footstep echoes, (Y/n) turned around and felt.. unease. He walked to the living room, closing the door behind him. “Tyler?” He asked, and saw.. nothing, the shadow growing upon a dropped bloody flashlight.

The red background, (Y/n) took a step closer and couldn’t see the evil hiding in the shadow, as if a bell went off he put his arms up to block a punch. His body flew back though the door and his body slammed against the old wall, hard. He shook his head and stood up, stumbling out, he saw the beast heading to the garage and booked it upstairs to Wednesday.

He rushed into the room Enid and Wednesday were checking and yelled. “Enid! Wednesday! We have to go! Now!” He said, but they weren’t paying attention, moreso moving around looking. “Hello?! Are you listening to me!?” He stormed over to Wednesday to grab her, but his hand conveniently phases through her body. Wednesday felt a chill and turned around, looking through him. He looked at his hand to notice its ethereal, his body is most likely back downstairs, he turned to Enid.

“Enid.. please forgive me.” With one leap he does the unthinkable, Wednesday watches Enid’s body convulse and halt, “Enid” turns to Wednesday.

“Wednesday… You need to Run, now!" She spoke, which confused Wednesday. “What is wrong with you?”

“Are you seriously being this damn stubborn?” She replies, and Enid rolls her eyes. “It’s your brother, it’s downstairs!” They hear a boom from the lower floor. Enid turns to her again. “See! Take Enid and leave, now!” (Y/n) pulls himself from Enid, who looks oddly confused about what just happened.

"The dumbwaiter. Go!" Wednesday and Enid hide inside and shut it tight. (Y/n) races back down the stairs and quickly back to the laundry room, he spotted his “dead” body and leaped at it, back inside he sits up and sprints back, he spots it rushing up the stairs and throws a pillow at it. It bonks the monster on the back of the head. The beast slowly turned back to (Y/n) it charges at him and he leaps out the way, the monster barrels into part of the wall and he sprints up the flight of stairs. He gets to a room and realizes the only exit is the window as expected, rusted shut. he sighs and takes a running stance and rushes, with one hard slam he bursts though the glass and rolls, falling a full story and hitting the ground hard, he felt the warmth on his back, glass probably. He lies on the ground, he sighed, honestly expecting the monster to follow out and kill him, he saw flashes of pink in the corner of his eye and he saw Enid and Wednesday approach quickly, he felt ringing in his ear and a lot of yelling, Tyler crept up out of the house bleeding but safe.

Inside the Dorm, (Y/n) was sitting in a stool, his back to Enid as took her beauty tweezers to get shards of glass out of his back. A large and final shard was pulled from his back, nearing his spine. Enid saw him clench and grip his pants

"Sorry! Sorry!" She apologizes, (Y/n) turned and smiled. “It’s fine, long as you’re okay..” the two smile, until Wednesday enters the room. And the tension was back up, she saw her brother putting his shirt back on

"Are you alight?" Wednesday asked

"Oh, now you care." He responds.

“It’s going to be fine—“ she started but he cut her off.

“No, it’s not going to be fine.. i made you promise to not drag her into this and you did. The one thing I ask you, you can’t do?!” He yelled.

"(Y/n)—" Wednesday began but he cuts her off again.

"You’re selfish, you’ve always been selfish! You’re going to get someone you care about killed one day because you can’t think about anyone but yourself. I hoped going to the school and meeting people like you and me would make you change, make you realize that people are just tools for you to use, you’re my family but it’s obvious you don’t see me the same..” (Y/n) left, storming off, Enid had tears in her eyes, watching him leave. She began to pack a bag as well.

“Where are you—“ Wednesday started but enid didn’t let her finish.

"Yoko's room. Thornhill said I could crash there for a few nights." She kept packing, angrily.

"There's no need. I spoke with Weems. You and (Y/n) won't be punished."

"Am I supposed to thank you?"

"I already apologized. It's over."

"Over? Tonight was the icing on the birthday cake you couldn't even be bothered to cut. You'll use anyone to get what you want, even if it means putting them in danger. We could have died tonight because of your stupid obsession!"

"But we didn't. And now I'm one step closer to solving this case. That is what is important." Wednesday still didn’t understand her predicament.

"I've tried really, really, really hard to be your friend. Always put myself out there. Thought of your feelings. Told people, "I know she gives off serial killer vibes, but she's just shy." Enid explained

"I never asked you to do that—"

"You didn't have to because that's what friends do! They don't have to be asked. The fact that you don't know that says everything. You want to be alone, Wednesday? Be alone!" Enid, leaves with a bag. Wednesday is alone, Goody predicted what happened. Wednesday sits against the window, pushing her friend and family away..

"Goody warned I was destined to be push everyone away, to be alone. Maybe it's inevitable. But for the first time in my life, it doesn't feel good. There's also something else. A gnawing feeling. That death is close at hand. Watching me. But I won't be intimidated. And I will never give up. That house. That family. Crackstone. The monster. Somehow me. We all seem to be connected like a spider's web. And when Mayor Walker got too close to the truth, he was silenced. But I won't be. So whoever's watching me, know this. I will find you.

#male reader #netflix #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #reader insert #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x male reader #siblings #twins #enid x male reader #enid x you #enid x y/n #mybitterhalf #Ornii

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sweetenerobert · 1 year ago

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toy story

8.1k | action figure!joel miller x male reader

summary: contemplating throwing out your favorite toy, he comes to life and makes your last night before you leave for college memorable

warnings: MDNI 18+, agalmatophilia, strong language, slight possessive joel, childhood friends to lovers (if you squint) no mention of age besides reader leaving for college, l-word drops, pet names (mostly doll and baby), spanking, dirty talking joel, no description of reader, but joel lifts you (1), oral (m!giving/m!receiving) rimming, spit as lube, unprotected p in a, creampie,

inspired by this post , also huge thanks to @strang3lov3 new tattoo for this fucking idea, i love you so much and thank you for letting me rant to you about this idea that been in my drafts for FUCKING MONTHS

thanks to @minispidey for beta, love you <333

dividers by @saradika-graphics

➴ navigation page/masterlist in bio

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read it on a03 as well

I’VE MISSED YOU GUYS!! SOOO MUCH!!

Moonlight piercing through the cotton curtains of your childhood bedroom, dust dancing through the luminescent shards from your window. Two boxes stacked on each other in the corner of your room, your closet’s life ripped away from the clothes once hung in the small confined space.

Wiping the sweat that littered your forehead as you huffed a breath, you lay down on the small circular rug that riddled the floor, staring at the ceiling light. You were getting ready to leave for college, and packing up your life seemed more stressful than lifting weights off your shoulders.

Constant choices about what to throw away or bring with you kept swimming in your brain, and overthinking two simple decisions kept making your head spin, mostly ending with you sitting silently thinking about your answer. This wasn’t one of those situations; you had just finished packing and felt like you deserved a break.

Alone in your childhood home while your parents had picked up late shifts and your siblings were out, the silence was deafening, but you preferred the quiet. It gave you time to process everything. Seeing the stars tapped onto your ceiling made you smirk as you glanced around your bare room.

Eyes catching an object underneath the bed, you turned your body to understand the object better. It was your old lumberjack action figure when you were a kid; it must’ve fallen off the shelf over your window. You don’t remember if it came with a name or you made it up, but you called him Joel.

That name stuck with you until now, even when you were a kid, when you introduced Joel to your friends as they commented on it. Being a “weird name,” you didn’t care; you loved the name.

Attempting to grab him from the bed, you realize that it would be easier to grab Joel from your bed. You were quickly climbing up on your bed and scrambling to the side, quickly sliding your hand down the crack of the wall and your bed. Tips of your fingers grazing the fake axe on the back of the action figure, biting your lip as your nail pulls the toy closer towards the wall, retracting your head a few feet up as you see it closer to the wall.

The action figure is in your grasp, sliding your knuckles up on the cold wall while your palm touches the cotton sheets wrapped around your mattress. The toy is now in your hand, and you notice how it’s looked the same after all the years. A couple of tiny patches of color are missing from his plastic hair, and his face and plastic beard stay the same. Joel’s clothes are dusty, balls of lint cover his pants and shirt, and his boots are dustier than anything. You quickly blow a puff of air, trying to clean him off the best you can.

“Hey, Joel. How ya been?’

Did I use to talk to this thing? Man, I was a weird kid.

Joel was your therapist before you even knew what therapy was — telling him about how you finally could spell Wednesday without misspelling it, How you passed each spelling/vocabulary test, and how the boys at school were bullying you. Joel always listened to you; he was your toy, and he didn’t care as long as he was there to protect you – metaphorically.

Loving Joel was easy—he was your first crush—but trying to explain that to a toy was difficult. Bringing Joel with you to live in your college dorm seemed like a hard decision. Glancing at the tiny trash can next to your bed, you glance back at Joel and discard him in the trash bin.

Wiping your hands on your pants, you looked at the bags and boxes that had cluttered the corner of your room and huffed a breath in annoyance as you decided it would be wise to have your life packed away downstairs.

It didn’t take you long to realize how much you hated your fucking stairs. You were leaning on the top of the stairs – on the handrail, catching your breath. Your bedroom was in your field of view; you would’ve crawled into your room if your knees hadn’t creaked with each movement.

One of the main things you wouldn’t miss about your house would be the stairs that killed you slowly with each trip up and down the wooden stairwell.

Slowly getting up from the floor, your feet trudged towards your bedroom door. You were pushing the gateway of your bedroom, earning a creak from its hinges. Your eyes glanced down towards the dark chocolate wood floor with each step into your room. “Finally, I’m ready to lay down in my –” You started to pick your head up, glancing at the figure sitting on your night, playing with a pink eraser he must’ve found in the trash bin.

“– bed.”

"Doll, what's up with you throwin' me away?"

W-what? That one question kept flying around in your head. Not, who is this? Not, what is happening? Just a simple question: What kept spinning around your head?

In the back of your mind, you knew who it was sitting in front of you. It wasn’t a dream, not your imagination; it was real life. Your action figure — your lumberjack, Joel in the flesh?

He looked real, too real. His hair's curls looked fluffy, and his skin's wrinkles looked defined. His clothes looked like he’d gotten them from a store, with wrinkles littering his shirt and jeans and his boots rubbing against the wood. Your childhood toy was in front of you, alive and in the flesh.

“Too stunned to speak, doll?”

Shaking your head from the thoughts swimming around you, you look at the male before you. “What?”

“Got my answer. Can’t believe I rendered my doll speechless.”

Joel’s build shocked you as he stood up from his position; his shoulders were broad, his biceps bulging from his flannel – you knew he rolled his sleeves up. Vein’s threatening to burst from his arms and hands. Your former action figure who walked in front of you felt menacing, like his aura made you cower in fear, but instead of fear, it was astonishment. That something you wished for years ago finally came true.

“How is this possible? How are you real?” You quivered.

“The better question better be, “Why would I throw out such a precious toy?”

“Huh?”

“C’mon, doll, y’think I’m stupid or somethin’; I knew y’threw me out. Half m’foot was in the trash can when I started growing.”

The answer was plain and simple: you didn’t want to bring him with you to college or leave him to give to someone else, so you thought just about getting rid of him would be. Clearly, Joel’s surprise appearance made things more complicated than they should. “I didn’t throw you out,” You quickly spat out. “You fell in there by accident.”

Joel’s tall figure stood tall in front of you, his once plastic hand – now turned flesh and genuine, his thumb slowly tracing your bottom lip. Your body was shuddering against his touch. “Y’know your body betrays you, sweetheart.”

“Just be honest; it doesn't hurt me, jus’ your pride.”

“J-Joel, listen —”

“Ah, now you know I exist; you were treating me like some hallucination,” Joel announced, backing up, sticking his thumb in the waistband of his jeans.

“You’re aware that this could very well be a hallucination,” You shrugged.

“Slap yourself, then.”

“Huh?”

“Slap. Yourself. In. The face. Then.” Joel enunciated.

“N-No! I’m not going to do that!” You exclaimed.

“Okay, fine, then. You’ll never know if this is a hallucination then.”

Groaning, you quickly connected your palm against your cheek, the skin on your palm and face stink earning a wince that you suck from your teeth.”Happy, now?”

“Blessed. I’m pretty sure you have many questions, which aren’t important, because we need to figger out why you threw me out?”

“I told you, I didn’t–”

“Doll, I’m not stupid. I saw you put me in there, now don’t bullshit me.”

The skin on your palm and cheek had been itchy to the point you wanted to scratch your palm and face simultaneously, resulting in you rubbing your knuckles on your face. But you didn’t even want to answer Joel—your childhood toy. Hurting your friend's feelings was something you never wanted to do; imagine how Joel would feel knowing the boy who had played with him since he was a kid didn’t want to take him to college with him.

But it was something that you had to say, something that you would dread telling anyone you love.

Deciding to rip the band-aid faster than slow, you take a breath, look at Joel’s once painted-on brown eyes, and see a soul behind his real-like eyes. “I didn’t want to take you to college with me, and giving you away seemed way too hard even to think about. So I threw you away.”

Joel looked shocked by your confession. He thought he was ready to hear what you had to say, but Joel wasn’t; he was more perplexed than anything. Moving from where he stood before you, he stumbles on the mattress and sits down to collect his thoughts. Joel’s head hangs as you sit down next to him. It was reminiscent of when you were younger and would watch movies in your living room, having Joel sit next to you while you imagined him laughing or getting mad at a character like you were.

For once, the silence in the room was deafening, and you didn’t like it; you didn’t know what Joel would say, which terrified you.

“Joel? Are you okay?”

Joel nodded. “Yeah,” He snuffled. “Was just thinkin’ bout somethin’.”

“What was it?’

“Joel, when I’m older, I’m taking you everywhere with me, no matter what. You're going to be with me during college, and even when I get the big boy job like my daddy does, you’ll always be there.”

The action figure you played with your whole childhood quoted what you told him in those peak years of being a kid and had nothing to worry about.

“I said that, I'm guessing?”

Joel nods. “You were always a happy kid, no matter what happened, always smiling.” You chuckle at Joel’s statement. It made a smile appear as you remembered that he was always there with you. But, you had to face the fact that you weren't a kid anymore; those promises you made to a toy — a mere plaything- weren't something you thought about as a hormonal teenager.

Shaking your head, you snap your head at Joel. “Joel, I was a kid back then. I didn't know that growing up would be so different than what I thought.”

“I- I can't be that same kid again. I wish I could trust me, I wish I could, but I can't.”

“It’s a shame,” Joel starts. “I would’ve loved t’see you grow up.”

“I mean, you technically did, right?”

Joel chuckles, “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

The cicadas appeared to disrupt the silence in the room when you didn't know what to say to Joel. You hated breaking your best friend’s heart, but being honest was something Joel wanted other than being lied to. “Do you want a hug?”

“I would love that,” Joel’s southern drawl appeared as you wrapped your arms around Joel, and his arms wrapped you around in a bear hug.

Hugging Joel felt weird but right – a seemingly impossible wish you fulfilled. You begged to be able to hug Joel, have him hold you in his arms, and melt together, being safe in each other’s arms. “M’gonna miss ya when you’re gone,” Joel grumbles against your head. As you hugged Joel, questions began to swim in your mind as you squeezed his waist; it felt like you were hugging an actual human. The way his body resisted against the tight hold on him, his body felt warm against yours.

“Okay, wait a second,” you announce, releasing yourself from Joel’s grip and standing before him.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks, resting one hand on his knee and his forearm on the other knee. You watch at the skin around his wrist, and the watch starts to bend as if he were human.

Questions were floating in your head; you didn’t know where to start, but you took a deep breath and opened your mouth to speak. “How did this happen? How are you walking like this?”

“I’ve always done it, just done it when everyone isn’t home.”

Perplexity rode your face as Joel’s answer made you think about more questions you wanted to spit out. “So, you’ve always been able to walk around and be so human-like?”

“Yeppers.”

“So, you heard everything?”

Joel nods.

“Everything?”

“If you’re referring to the times I’ve heard and seen you jerk off and get fucked in here, then yes, everything,” Joel mocked.

Heat rose to your face. Joel had seen everything, the most vulnerable parts of your body. Things that you wouldn’t admit to if your family asked about it. “Even when–”

“Not when you were a kid, I’gave you your privacy. Scout’s honor.”

“But, you’re not a scout but a lumberjack.”

Joel shrugs. “You’re point?”

“My point is–” You exhale a breath as a hand slides down your face. “If ya wonderin’ of anythin’ sex-related–” Joel interjected.

One question swam around your mind in that topic Joel mentioned. “Can you fuck?” You question, crossing your arms. Joel’s chuckle sent chills picking at your “tough-guy” demeanor. That nervous feeling rose, making you worried about his answer. “If I tell you the truth, will you mind?”

Reflexically shaking your head, you waited for Joel’s answer. “Yes, doll. I can.” Without thinking, you asked Joel. “How?” Joel answered by pointing at you. “You’ve done some pretty interesting things, doll.”

Moving your head as you eye roll at the “man” before you. “I’m scared to ask, but–”

“You’re interested if I had fucked anythin’?”

“Honestly? Yeah.” You don’t know how to feel about Joel’s confession. On the one hand, you were intrigued by what Joel had done; on the other hand, it made you feel like you were stepping into a zone you weren’t comfortable with entering. “Wow, my old toy, fucking other toys? I’m guessing.”

Joel chuckles. “Y’know your sister’s Barbie doll? Fucked her, Ken watched.”

A grimace appeared on your face as Joel's sudden statement made you feel like the cold rushed in from your bedroom. “Wow,” you started. “Wait, Barbie and Ken can become real, like you?” Joel nodded at your answer.

“Huh, well. You learn something new every day.”

“Blame yourself, doll. I learned everything from you.”

Confusion rode your face, trying to act innocent like you had no reason behind Joel’s actions. “What do you mean?” You shrug.

Joel stands up, his hands draped by the stitched pockets of his jeans, his boots slowly connecting with the hardwood floors, causing you to walk backward at your leisurely pace. You and Joel were working in tandem—with each step he took, you took a step back. You felt slightly intimidated. In the back of your head, you never thought you would feel unnerved by a toy—a toy you never would’ve expected to come to life.

That rush of cold flew through your back when you connected with the side of your closet, bringing your hands to the wall; that cold sensation connected with your hand. Joel’s looming figure had been present before you, his hand outstretched beside your head. Joel slowly moves his head toward your head; you feel his warm breath against you, causing your spine to chill — mentally blaming the wall.

“C’mon, doll. You know exactly what I mean.” Joel’s voice made your breath hitch as you felt his mustache tickle against your neck. “I know what you want, your likes, know what you like to be called,” You feel Joel’s realistic fingers on your chin as he picks your head up to look into his eyes; you watch as he backs up from your ear.

His soft but calloused hand was on your chin, slowly dragging his hand against the fabric of your shirt as you watched the wrinkles in your shirt flatten under the path his hand was sliding down your torso. You watched as the wrinkles disappeared, only to reaper after Joel’s hand moved from its position. Joel’s hand was slow but not too slow, like a snail’s pace, slow to the point where you felt each goosebump underneath his hand — under your shirt.

Joel’s hand had stopped on your waist, while his other hand was above your head as he leaned closer to your eyes. Bracing for the impact of Joel’s lips on yours, you close your eyes.

The feeling of plump, soft lips against yours sent shivers traveling down your spine as you felt the grip on your waist was getting tighter — rougher. Your hands travel from the wall into Joel’s soft curls. You wanted Joel in the moment; you craved him — yearned for him. Memories of you dreaming of kissing Joel had finally come true; you didn't expect the kiss to feel so passionate, an end-of-the-world kiss — one that stopped the world from spinning.

The feeling of silk had flown through your fingers as you contorted your hands with Joel’s hair. Joel’s hands slid from your waist onto your ass — squeezing lightly, you gasped against his lips.

Your heart skipping a beat seemed impossible, but Joel’s kisses begged to differ. Your hands slipped from Joel’s hair onto his face, and you felt his defined jawline and patchy beard; you felt soft but coarse underneath your palms, which was something you couldn’t imagine. Reminiscent of when your fingertips would travel against the painted beard, always wondering what it looked/felt like, at this moment, you can.

Joel’s big hands leave an imprint on your ass; slowly, his hands start sliding down toward your inner thigh, bending his back closer to you so the connection of your lips doesn't break. “Jump,” Joel grumbles against your lips. You push your feet off the ground as Joel’s strength lifts you, chuckling against his lips, wrapping your legs around Joel’s waist; you feel his hands under your thighs, gripping into you with passion; you think his nails may leave crescent moons into your skin.

Cold drywall leaves your back as Joel slowly turns you both around so your bed can face your back. With each step, your and Joel’s noses keep bumping into each other as your faces keep moving side to side from your passionate kiss. Joel’s mouth leaves yours as his lips trail down your jawline, lightly sucking. Your hands return to Joel's hair as his lips end on your neck.

Lips on your neck, sucking, biting, Joel marking you with his lips, your moans kept escaping your lips as your fingers flowed through Joel’s hair like water. “Y’like that, baby?” Joel growled. You hiss through your teeth before answering. “Fuck, yes. I love it, Joel.”

Quickly turning his body, Joel sits on the edge of your bed. Your knees indent your mattress as you feel sitting down. His lips return to yours as Joel wraps his arms against the midsection of your back, melting your bodies together. Your hands make their way from Joel’s head onto his broad shoulders. Thinking the flannel was warming his skin, you wanted to get rid of it.

Backing slightly away, you slip your hands down his hardened chest; you start to fumble with the first button. Quickly unbuttoning the first one, you were on your way to the next one; Joel took notice of your hands and broke the kiss to look at what you were doing. “What are ya doing, doll?”

“Trying to get this flannel off you,” You grumble, popping the second button off.

“Lemme help.”

Joel moves his arms from your waist onto his flannel, smiling at you as you watch him pop the buttons out the loops. You watch as your childhood crush takes off his flannel and throws it over your shoulder, chest hair littering his chest. You slowly bring your hand onto his chest—above where his heart should be — but you don't feel a bump vibrate against your hand. You remember that Joel isn't human, which somewhat shatters your heart.

Joel notices your saddened eyes; he places his hand over yours and looks deep into your eyes, his brown eyes piercing into your soul. “J’so ya know, I may not have a heart, but my love f’you is more important than anything else in this goddamn world. You're one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

“I don't want to live in a world where I don't see your smile every day; it's a reminder t’myself that no matter what, my love for you is the most real thing for me.”

You smirk at Joel’s confession, quickly smashing your lips against his. The tears brimming your tear ducts, trickling down from your eyes, wiping your eyes as you back up and look at Joel. “You are such a softie, you know that?”

“Only for you, sweetheart.” Joel quickly pushed his lips against yours, wrapping his arms around your midsection and moving your arms around his neck.

Feeling Joel’s smile against your lips, you're quickly surprised when you feel Joel stand up and, in one motion, spin you both around so your back is on your mattress. You can’t help but smile gleefully as he backs up from you — sliding your shirt up and planting kisses trailing from your chest to your navel. His thick fingers grab the waistband of your pants as he slides them down. “Lift your hips, doll.” You do as Joel commands; he slides your pants off your thighs and throws them in the corner where your hamper used to reside, leaving your underwear on, your cock hard and covered by your underwear.

“Look a’that, y’hard f’me already, doll?” You chuckle at Joel; you gasp as you feel his lips press the tip of your hard-covered cock. With each kiss brought against the tip and the shaft of your cock, it feels like heaven to you, bringing you absolute bliss against your skin. You get your foot against Joel’s shoulder as your other one hangs off the edge of the bed, arching your back in pleasure as Joel’s mouth moves down your thigh.

Joel looks up at you and smiles as he kisses your leg. Noticing the wet spot appears on your underwear. Pre-cum slowly escaping the slit of your cock. “Let’s get these underwear off you.” You didn't need Joel to tell you to lift your hips reflectively. You lifted your pelvis, and he slid the underwear off you. Your hard throbbing cock slaps against your navel, a line of pre-cum connects with your stomach. “God, you’re s’fuckin’ perfect, baby.”

Standing up from his position, he softly presses his lips against yours, bringing his hand into the bend of your knee, his other hand holding the side of your face. Joel’s tongue licked your bottom lip, awaiting your mouth to open. Slightly parting your lips, Joel slips his tongue into your mouth, causing you to smile at Joel’s eagerness.

“How do you feel?” Joel questions against your lips.

“Fan-fuckin-tastic.” You answer, bearing your teeth. “How about I make you feel even fuckin’ better.” Joel’s question came out as a statement, causing you to question his meaning. Without warning, Joel backs up from your face and laps his tongue on the shaft of your cock, making a moan escape from your mouth, sliding his tongue slowly up the head of your cock, moans escaping your mouth. “F-fuck, Joel,” You breathe.

“Y’like that, baby?”

You breathe out an answer as Joel starts playing the slit of your cock with his tongue. “Yes.”

“Makin’ sure that you deserve somethin’. You’re too precious to be mistreated.”

Joel must've heard all the times you would complain to your best friend about how one guy seemed great but lacked something when it came to sex. Joel was showing what you’ve been craving for a guy to reciprocate when you pleasured them, but he wasn't expecting anything back; he was just glad to pleasure his boy first.

Wrapping his mouth slowly around the tip of your cock, Joel slowly goes down the shaft of your length, causing you to moan and white knuckle your sheets as you throw your head back — arching your back and snapping your eyes shut in pleasure.

His pace was slow but patient. Joel wanted to make you feel something you rarely experienced — over the moon. Wrapping his hands around the shaft of your cock, his fingers would let go for a moment before wrapping.

Dragging your fingers into Joel’s curls, you slowly push his head down, hoping he could speed up. “Fuck, Joel. Can you go faster, please?”

“I can do ya one better, doll.”

As Joel’s mouth felt warm around your cock, he started to go faster as you gasped in pleasure; you felt Joel’s hand slide from your thigh as he slowly began to tease your hole. The skin of your taint felt sensitive with each stroke of Joel’s finger teasing you; each swipe, each light prodding made your body shiver in anticipation. Your cock has never been in overdrive as much as this — Joel was slowly rising you towards your peak. Your cock twitches in Joel’s mouth showing the throbbing pain that was threatening to shoot out.

Slowly and agonizing, Joel slides his mouth off your cock, swallowing his spit; Joel wipes the reminder off his lips with the back of his hand, glances at you, and chuckles as Joel strokes your cock. “Y’close, doll?”

“Yes,” You whimper. “So fuckin’ close. It hurts so much. Can I cum yet, Joel?”

A chuckle left his throat, a sly smirk appearing on his face as he stared at you. Joel stops pumping your cock — landing on your stomach, precum leaking from the slit. “Not yet, doll. We haven't had our fun yet.”

Lifting your legs, Joel slides his head down deeper in between your thighs. He laps his tongue against your aching hole; a shaky moan escapes your lips as you hold your legs up so Joel can get better access to your hole. His hands are planted on your inner thighs as he keeps his tongue against your taint.

Joel’s tongue felt like magic against you, showing you things you’ve never felt before — things you’ve only imagined happening. His tongue sliding up and down, in and out of your hole, made you want to cum by how much Joel was treating you.

His plump lips planting kisses against your taint made your toes curl — the bones could pop out, your nails digging into the skin of your thighs, your moans escaping from you with each movement of Joel’s lips and tongue was giving you pleasure.

That sensation of something feeling pushed inside you came rushing in as you let go of one of your thighs, gripped the sheets below you, and threatened to rip them up. You look down at Joel, looking up at you with a smirk on his face; you notice what is being pushed inside you; Joel’s thick middle finger has taken a turn to please you.

“Y’like that, don’t you, baby?”

“Mhmm,” You whimper, throwing your head back, closing your eyes, and biting your lip.

“I told ya, I know what you like, basically what you’ve been yearnin’ for.”

“But, you gotta let me know if it’s too much for you, baby. I can't read minds yet.”

“It’s it too much?” Joel questioned.

You shake your head to deny Joel’s question. “It’s just right, it’s so fuckin’ right,” You grit your teeth.

Sliding another finger in, Joel’s pace had gone faster. You knew Joel was trying to test your limit; you never knew your limit; you were glad to try to figure it out with someone you trusted.

“Look at that; your hole wraps around m’fingers; it keeps sucking me in no matter how hard I try to pull out.”

Sudden movements from your hips as you kept raising your hips and bringing them back down. Gritting your teeth, tiny whimpers left through your teeth. Pleasure flowed through your entire body — a new goal you never knew you could reach.

Joel would never admit this, but him being the reason whimpers were leaving your mouth, you squirming because of his fingers and mouth, he was fucking over the moon to be the first person ever to make you feel this way.

“J-Joel?” You breathed.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Can I please suck your cock?”

Joel was conflicted by your question; all he wanted to do was make you feel good, he wasn’t expecting anything in return, but he wanted to know what that perfect mouth of yours felt around his cock.

Slipping his fingers outside your hole, aching for more, Joel smirks at you and opens his mouth to speak. “Yes, you can, doll.” As you sit up, you notice the length that resided in his jeans; your eyes almost pop from their sockets from what you have just seen. You’d never seen anything that big in porn, yes, but never in real life.

Noticing your astonishment, Joel looked at his jeans and then back up at you. “Is this size good enough, sweetheart?” You nod your head. Sliding your back against the mattress, you slid so your knees hit the wood below you. Watching the eagerness flood Joel’s eyes made you feel that excitement swimming in your stomach. The button of his jeans popped above you, and hearing the zipper going down, you watched as Joel’s cock popped out from its restraints.

Joel’s throbbing cock bounced in front of you, precum leaking from the slit of Joel’s cock. In your eyes, Joel’s cock looked more realistic than plastic. You wouldn’t lie; you were a curious kid; you had removed Joel’s clothes before and only noticed a blob on where his dick was now. The veins traveled up the shaft of his cock, stopping at the mushroom tip of his cock. The happy trail from Joel’s tummy showed up his pubic hair that rested above the shaft of his cock. Your mouth went dry in anticipation. It was the first you had seen a dick this big and thick before and so close to your face.

“You alright, doll?”

Shooting your eyes up at Joel, you can tell a bit of worry on his face. “Yeah, I-I’m fine. Just never seen a dick this big before,” You admitted. Bending down so his face is in front of you, softly placing his hand against your cheek in reassurance. “We can take it slow if you want to.” You nodded at Joel’s words as he planted his lips against your forehead and stood straight. Dragging Joel’s jeans down as your knuckles brushed up against the hair on Joel’s thighs, gravity stopping Joel’s jeans when they stop at his ankles, your hand wraps the shaft of his cock. You slowly wrap your lips around the tip of Joel’s cock, and you hear him exhale in pleasure.

Slowly pushing your head down the shaft of Joel’s cock, lips wrapped tight, you feel the veins trace the skin of your lips as the head of Joel’s cock press into the back of your throat. A groan of pleasure escapes Joel’s lips as you back your head up. You push your head forward and back leisurely, and you can tell the pace makes Joel go crazy. His member in your mouth kept throbbing against the roof of your mouth. Suddenly, your pace went a little faster; you looked up and noticed Joel’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hands were in tight fists, his knuckles threatening to pop out from his hand. The taste of salt fell upon your tongue as you backed your head up from Joel’s cock. A line of spit mixed with precum connecting from your mouth to the tip of Joel’s cock was made apparent, eventually dropping onto the ground below you as you wrapped your hand around Joel’s cock and started pumping his shaft.

The moans escaping Joel’s lips were music to your ears as your moans were to Joel. “Fuck, baby. Y’so good at that. Those boys are so fuckin’ stupid.” His southern drawl causes summersaults in your stomach. Sliding your mouth back onto Joel’s cock, a deep moan escapes his lips as your lips were at a quick pace, your hands planted on Joel’s thighs, the hair on his thighs pressed up against your hand as the tip of Joel’s cock kept hitting the back of your throat.

Moans, grunts, whines, and whimpers were all escaping from Joel’s lips, his hands holding onto your head as his hips humped into your head, his cock pressing deeper – causing you to gag a couple of times. Your nose kept poking into where Joel’s pubic hair rested; the scent was intoxicating, causing your cock to leak with precum below you.

Suddenly, Joel held your head – your throat grasping around his cock, causing you to gag more. Slobber escaping your mouth as with each inhale through your nose – resting on Joel’s hairy patch made it impossible to exhale without gagging. Your palms were getting sweaty against Joel’s meaty thighs, the hair on his legs feeling nonexistent against your slippery hands.

His hands slide your head back, and lines of spit connect from his cock to your top and bottom lips. Deep inhales and exhales leave your body as you watch Joel slightly shudder. His cock glistened in your spit, throbbing. Sweat littered Joel’s hairy chest and forehead; you swallowed the spit in the back of your throat from your excessive breathing. Your forehead felt heavy with sweat as you looked up at Joel; he slid his hand up his forehead, pushing the curls that had stuck to his forehead. “Fuck, sorry, baby. Y’mouth is so fuckin’ addictin’.”

“Don’t think I’m finished with you yet, Joel,” You spoke, disregarding his apology. Quickly eager to show Joel what you meant, you pick up his cock and slide your tongue on the underside of Joel’s shaft. Lapping your tongue against his veins, you could hear Joel praise you from above. “So fuckin’ perfect, who wouldn’t want to treat you right?”

Bringing your tongue slowly down to make Joel squirm, you feel his body Joel a little bit as you are still holding his cock in your hand; you place your mouth around his ball sack and lightly suck on one of them. “OH, FUCK!” Joel groaned. Joel’s body felt like jelly – incapable of holding himself up; Joel hadn’t felt this level of pleasure before, from anything he’s ever fucked before. “You like that, baby?” You asked. “Yes,” Joel gritted his teeth. “God, I love it s’much.” Backing your mouth up, you stroke Joel’s cock and watch Joel hold his head back and moans escaping his lips. Bending down, Joel places his hands between the fold of your armpits and picks you up from your knees.

Planting his lips against yours, the kiss you shared between the two of you felt hungry, Lips mashing against each other, teeth clashing against each other. Joel’s arms holding you tightly against his torso. Joel was fucking starving for you as his lips were latching against your cheeks, jawline, against the skin of your neck. That feeling of Joel’s teeth against your neck made you know Joel was marking you as his. Your nails drag against Joel’s soft curls as you enjoy Joel’s mouth, bringing his head up back against your lips. Sweat from Joel’s chest was seeping through your shirt. You wanted to take it off to feel Joel’s skin against yours. Backing your head away from Joel’s, his head following suit as he watches you attempt to take your shirt off.

Holding the hem of your shirt, Joel helps you slide your shirt off your head, wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck, him wrapping his arms against your lower back. The warmth of each other’s bodies radiated against each other. Your cocks rubbed against each other; the warmth you both shared was hot enough to blow the roof off your bedroom. This experience felt surreal, like a dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

Backing his head away from your lips, you notice a look of dominance in Joel’s eyes, which darken as he opens his mouth to speak. “Get on that bed, so I can fuck you the way you, a good boy like you should be fucked.”

“But, what if I’ve been a bad boy?” You tease.

Leaning his head toward your ear. “Then I’ll have to punish you.”

“Get on that fuckin’ bed,” Joel commanded. You listened to Joel, letting your arms go from around his neck, your knees bent on the bed, as you pushed yourself to land your head where your pillow rested, your back collided with the soft cloud-like material. You watched Joel climb on the bed, stopping as he was positioned right between your legs. “Put your leg on my shoulder.”

Compiling to what Joel commanded, your ankle rested on Joel’s broad shoulder. A line of spit leaves Joel’s mouth and connects to the tip of his cock, rubbing the spit to lube up his cock. Slowly leaning over you, one next to your head, fingers spread apart. Joel moves his hand from the tip to his shaft as he starts to tease you – making you shudder in anticipation.

Moving his cock to poke your hole makes you yearn for him every slight push into you. Hisses escaped your gritted teeth as you craved to feel good. “Joel, can you please fuck me?”

“Nuh uh, bad boys don’t get to beg,” Joel grinned.

Joel had let go of his length and placed his other hand next to the other side of your head. His hips were grinding into you, making you gasp and make your spine chill. Joel’s cock kept rubbing up against your sensitive tip, making you physically shudder and making your cock feel like it was about to burst. “I can tell how much you love this. M’cock grinding up against yours before I get you pregnant.” Your breath hitched as Joel’s voice made you want him more – you’ve never wanted anyone this bad before.

“Joel, please. I need you.”

“How bad do you need me, sweetheart?” Joel growled into your ear.

“So fuckin’ much, it's unbearable.”

“Well then, are you going to be my good boy?’

Nodding your head, you shut your eyes and licked your lips in anticipation. You notice that your ankle comes off Joel’s shoulder and collides with the mattress. You feel his lips press against yours briefly as you open your eyes and see Joel’s brown orbs looking into yours before he opens his mouth to speak. “Well, I can’t keep my good boy waitin’.” Looking in between your bodies, Joel adjusts his cock; you feel it press into you for a split second. He looks back up to you, “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I am,” You answer.

Joel slowly pushes in, and you feel the tip agonizingly stretch you out. Your moans rattle the walls next to you both. “Does it hurt, baby?” You shake your head, denying Joel’s question. His shaft is halfway in before he pulls out fast. You gasp before breathing heavily. “Damn, baby. Y’so fuckin’ tight,” Joel commented. Once again, Joel slides his cock into you, making your moans more intense than before. Halfway in, Joel rocks his hips back and forth slowly into you. Your eyes snapped shut intensely, straining your eyelids. The pain was starting to feel good, too good.

“Is this okay, baby?”

Opening your eyes, you notice the concern in Joel’s eyes. He looked so sweet, caring, and compassionate; you’ve always seen him like that growing up. “Yes, Joel. It’s okay,” You smile. Leaning down to kiss you, Joel’s hips still rocking into your hole, moans exiting your mouth and entering Joel’s. Feeling Joel slowly stretch you out felt indescribable; it felt good, but you did want Joel to go faster. “Joel,” You moan against Joel’s mouth. “Yes, baby?”

Joel backs up to hear you properly. Before you could get a word out to Joel, one push further in, and you feel the base of Joel’s cock clap into you, which echoes throughout the room. Joel realizes what this means; a sly grin appears on Joel’s lips. “Hold that thought, doll,” Joel commanded.

His pace was faster and rougher. Claps rang throughout the room with each thrust, like an audience applauding at the end of a play. Your hands gripped the sheets or ran your hand down Joel’s back while Joel had his hand on the headboard. It felt like Joel had read your mind at that moment, knowing that you wanted more and that he would give it to you. “I can tell y’wanted this before you even said it, baby. Could hear ya screamin’ at me to fuck you harder.’

“Y’wanted this, didn’t ya?” Joel grunted.

“God, yes, Joel. I’ve wanted something like this for so long, begging for it. This feels fucking amazing.”

“I’can say the same about this boy pussy of yours, grippin’ onto me so tight, it doesn’t want to let go, and I don’t think I want it to.” You bring your hands up to Joel’s back and dig your nails into his sleek skin; an exhale leaves Joel’s mouth as the pain settles in, but it subsides.

“Mark me, baby. Make me yours.”

Your nails drag down Joel’s back until you reach the small of Joel’s back. Joel bows his head, grabs your chin, and smashes his lips against yours, but his thrusts stop. You don’t feel anything warm inside you, so you know he didn’t cum. Wrapping your arms around his neck, Joel lifts you for a second so you can get up from the sheets below you. Noticing Joel starts to lay himself down, you quickly move your hands on the mattress to keep yourself from crashing into Joel. You still feel Joel’s cock inside you as his hips start to lift up and down.

That time when you complained about only being in one position with a guy, Joel did hear you and was giving you something you wanted.

“Sorry for the sudden stop, wanted to fuck you more.”

Backing your head up, you watched as Joel bore his teeth and started to fuck you senselessly. Wrapping his arms tight around your lower back. Your nails dug into the soft material under your sweaty palms; you could feel the fibers begin to tear a bit. “You like this, don’t ya, baby? Being fucked like the sluts I’ve seen you watch on your phone.”

“Craving to be them, wanting someone to fuck you till you can’t feel your legs no more, huh?”

“Yes.” You whined.

“Wantin’ someone as strong and big as those guys you watch to be able to fill your sweet, tight, boy pussy with hot cum.”

Nodding your head. “Mhmm.”

“Well, I’m here. I’m gonna satisfy your needs, your aches, your cravings for you to be filled with cum. If anyone else tries. I’ll gladly show them who can treat you better and fuck you in front of them, understood, baby.”

“Mhmm.”

Joel’s hand connects with your ass, a hard smack against it; a cry leaves your mouth. “I need a fuckin’ yes, boy.”

“Yes, Joel, yes.” You whined.

You felt something move from inside you. You see, Joel looks to wear your cock, but he’s looking in between you both. “You feel my cock twitchin’ inside you, doll? You want me to cum inside you?” “Yes,” You quickly answer and nod. “You’re leakin’ all over my stomach, baby; you wanna cum too?”

You whimper out an answer. “Then, I better give my boy what he wants.”

Joel slides his cock out of you and lays you on your stomach as he comes up from behind you and slowly teases you. You feel his cock glide between the bends of your ass cheeks, feelings his balls press into them. “Damn, your ass is achin’ f’me right now. I will give you what you deserve, boy.”

That feeling of being stretched out came back as you rested your forehead on the bed. Joel’s hands dug into your skin; each push of his length made your moans push out of you more. It was like your body was in heat — Joel’s heat. He was an animal in heat when it came to you. Nodding your head, you felt Joel’s hand on your throat and his lips against your ear — his mustache tickling it. “I’m so –thrust– close to – cummin’ inside this tight ass of yours, baby. Do you want my cum to swim inside you?”

“Yes, Joel. I fuckin’ do.”

“Then let me give you what you deserve.” Backing his head up, Joel dug into your skin like he was kneading dough; his thrusts were rough, almost splitting you in half. You could feel his cock throb inside you as you felt your shaft pulsating. You knew you were about to cum. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you, baby. I don’t wanna stop after I cum in you.” “Joel, I’m so close. Keep going.”

“Fuck,” Joel growled. “I love it when you beg like that.”

His pace was going faster, and it felt the tip of your cock felt like it was going to explode with your cum. “Fuck, Joel. I’m gonna cum.”

“Fuck, baby. Me too.’

“Here it comes,” Joel gritted his teeth.

With one final push, you feel your cum shoot out onto the sheets below you, and you also feel Joel’s cum swim inside you. Light breaths are escaping both of you as you feel Joel slide his cock out of you; a squelching sound is heard as Joel’s cock finally dislodges from your hole. A sigh of relief exits Joel’s mouth as he connects his back to the bed. Turning your neck, you see Joel — soft cock against his stomach as you see his chest dip and rise from the breaths he’s taking.

Picking yourself up from your position, you lay down next to Joel, your head resting on his sweaty, hairy chest. Joel’s arm wraps around you as he pulls you closer to him.

“So, was that everything you’ve ever wanted?” Joel questioned.

Nodding your head against his chest. “Yeah, and better than what I could imagine.”

Joel chuckles at your statement, and you join him. Once the laughter dies down, a realization hits him like a bag of bricks. “Y’know, for a moment, I forgot that you’re running off to college without me. Followin’ those dreams and gettin’ your degree.”

“Joel,” You start.

“Havin’ a life, a career, findin’ someone who will love you as much as I do.”

“Joel,” You repeat.

“Havin’ kids of your own, playin’ with their own action figures or dolls, and I’ll be at the bottom of some —”

“JOEL.”

Joel jumped at your sudden outburst; he was looking at you instead of the ceiling. He saw you staring at him; he felt frightened but safe simultaneously. You suddenly straddle his lap, his hands on your waist, molding his hands onto you. “You’re coming with me to college.”

“W-what?” Joel smiled. “When did you come to that decision?”

“When you gave the most beautiful profession of love when I was on your lap, it made me realize something.” Joel awaited your realization, but he couldn’t lie; you sitting naked on his lap like that, faces inches away from each other, he was starting to get horny again. “I know you can never be real, but that’s okay; it sucks that we won’t grow old together, but you’ll always be there for me, and if I do meet someone, you’ll always be the first person I’ve ever loved, Joel.”

A smile appeared on Joel’s face; you couldn’t tell if sweat or a tear was falling from Joel’s eye when he quickly rolled you on your back and was inches away from you. His smell was intoxicating; the sweat mixed with lust made your cock twitch like crazy. “You’re such a softie, y’know that?” Joel quoted.

“Only for you, sweetheart,” You quoted.

“Now, how do you feel about one more round?” Joel questioned.

“Well, everyone will be out for a while.”

“Should I take my time?”

“Joel, fuckin’ show me a good time.”

“Okay, my good boy, lemme show you a good time,” Joel states, kissing your lips. Feeling the love from Joel’s kisses, you realize you didn’t need anyone to love you as much as Joel did, and you were fine with that. You didn’t care that he wasn’t real; he felt he was real to you, and that’s all you need.

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spacecowboyy0 · 3 months ago

Text

crumbling

summary: you and peter go to the avenger's tower on a field trip and you have a breakdown, then get comforted by buck and nat! angsty then fluffy

notes: autistic!little!reader, you and peter act like siblings and i envision them in their last year of highschool, peter’s field trip is a huge trope on Ao3 idk if tumblr people are aware of that

tony stark isn’t in this because i hate him, he’ll never be in any of my fics, i don’t care!!!

1.6k words

When it was dark, you would sometimes show up at Peter’s window, and stay the night. The habit started in middle school, when things at home were too much to bear alone. After the first few times, the window remained unlocked and May told you that you were always welcome, even if no one was home. Peter knew how important it is that you could rely on him to be there during rough nights, so he felt bad when he started sleeping over at the Tower. Peter also knew how intimidating the Avengers are, but he was sure that you would get along with them. He would talk about you so much that the team kept asking when they could meet you. He knew that you would be welcome to stay over whenever, not only when you were in crisis mode.

On a regular Wednesday after school, Happy picked the two of you up from school, and drove you to the Tower. That night, despite your intense anxiety, you had a wonderful time. You played card games and ate delicious food that Bruce cooked. It ended with Natasha telling you that if you ever needed help, you could call her. This was the beginning of unconditional love and support from people who could’ve never imagined getting close to.

Out of everyone on the team (excluding Peter), you latched onto Bucky very quickly, with Natasha coming runner up. You know an autistic person when you saw one, and after one movie night with that man, you knew. Bucky became a huge father figure/big brother role in your life; you just seem to click. It’s Bucky who understands your aversion to certain foods, why you need things to be a certain way, why you can go to loud concerts but want to sob at the sound of chewing.

You can’t really explain why you’re so close to Natasha or when it started. Nat is secretly a huge softie, and you’re one of the lucky few who is shown her warm heart. She feels motherly, in a way that warms your bones and calms your mind. No one can give head scratches as well as she can, or braid your hair as perfectly.

You were sitting in Mr. Anderson’s class when the field trip to the Tower was announced. You whipped your head around, meeting eyes with Peter, who sat a few seats behind you. For you, it wasn’t that big of a deal, somewhat funny if anything, but you had a feeling that there would be some special appearances from the team during the trip. Fortunately for you, with the protection of Bucky and Natasha, you knew that whatever shenanigans were pulled during the trip, they’d be targeting Peter rather than you. Peter, judging by the grimace he sported, seemed entirely less enthused by the announcement. Shifting your eyes over to MJ’s (evil) smirk and Ned’s delighted grin, you knew those two were excited for different reasons.

When school was let out, you followed Peter to Happy’s car, and drove to the Tower together. There, you handed the permission form to Nat, who had been forging your mother’s signature for a while now. You shoved the slip into your bag and forgot about the trip for the next two weeks.

Now it’s the morning of the field trip, and you’re already tired of everything. You don’t want to talk. It’s not that you can’t talk, you just don’t have anything to say. You had such a high anxiety week, and now masking is too difficult to keep up, and you really want to feel small. You want to feel a nice fuzzy instead of the anxiety fog you have been feeling way too much of recently. Your brain is buzzing in a way that probably means that you’re very very close to crumbling. While you don’t want that to happen at the Tower in front of your classmates, you know Peter would handle it. You just hope that Bucky or Nat will be around to rescue you.

Everything was going smoothly, you made it through the loud bus ride to the Tower, survived all the beeps at security, and now you’re onto your first activity after getting a tour of R&D. In a group of four, with Peter, MJ and Ned, your group is tasked with coming up with a small robot that would fulfill the two slips of criteria you randomly selected out of a bowl. You got “rainbow” and “do a flip.” As you fold the paper of your 3d prototype (something to keep your hands busy more than anything), you nick your finger on the edge of the sheet. You rip your hands away from the model on instinct, letting it drop onto the table in front of you. There’s a pause as you stare at the tiny bit of raised skin on your thumb. There’s no blood but your eyes well up with embarrassing tears. Peter, who is sitting beside you, stops scribbling for a moment when he sees you still out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s going on?” To your hyper-sensitive mind, you’re convinced his whisper could be heard from across the room. It’s not helping. You turn to him, and you see his eyes widen when a tear slides down your face. It’s all crumbling down just like you had anticipated, and now there would be nothing stopping your dysregulated, tired mind from exposing your very not-neurotypical needs to anyone who asked.

“Hey, what are the tears for, bug?” The whimper he got in response, caught the attention of Ned and MJ. While you love them to bits, more eyes on you is not what you need. You put both of your feet on your chair so that you can shove your face into your knees, and hope that it muffles your quiet sobs. Peter pulls out his phone, he had also anticipated this breakdown, so he sends a text to put his plan into action.

With a nudge from Peter, and MJ’s arm around your shoulders, you walk towards Mr. Harrington where he’s talking to your tour guide. MJ leads you past where Peter stops to talk to your teacher, and into the hallway. Even in the hall with less people around, you’re so in your head that you’re mortified by your red face and the stimming you tried to suppress. After what feels like ages, Peter appears and replaces MJ’s grounding touch, and takes you to the nearest elevator. It’s only a short wait before you step into the elevator, and when the doors close behind you, you both let out a sigh of relief. Although yours is more of a shudder with how fast your breathing is.

The ride is fast and soon you’re stepping into Bucky and Steve’s living room, where Bucky is waiting for you. Peter watches as you run into Bucky’s awaiting arms and collapse in his embrace. You sob without restraint and bury into his neck. Peter slips back into the elevator and heads up to your room, which is next to his own. Bucky walks around the room, rocking you in his arms as you wait for Peter to come with your stim basket. Peter returns with the basket, picking out a few he thinks you might need before going down to the floor where your class is.

Now it’s just you and Buck, the sounds of crying and the noise of the city coming from the open windows. Reaching down for a moment, he picks up a squishy for your hands, and a chewy for your mouth that is gnawing on his shirt. He sits down on a couch, and creates a little bit of space between you to draw your attention to the toys. You take the squishy, but reject the chewy after a moment of contemplation. You return to your cozy spot pressed against him, but switch to chewing and sucking on your fingers. Bucky, now trapped with you on his lap and confused as to why you didn’t want the stim toy, signed to FRIDAY to get Nat’s help.

After a few minutes, the elevator doors slide open silently and Nat walks over to the pair on the couch. Buck points to the basket on the side table, and finger spells “soother.” He suspects that you would have one, considering how much he catches you almost chewing on your fingers on a daily basis. Nat finds a light blue soother in a case near the bottom, takes it out, and hands it over. Buck gently removes the thumb in your mouth and slips in the soother before you realize what he had. He can feel your muscles relax and your heart slow to a natural rate.

As you wait for Pete to return from his tour, Bucky puts on The Princess Bride, and the three of you enjoy the slow, quiet peace. You, drained from your emotional day, rests your head in Nat’s lap and your legs lie across Bucky’s lap. With your eyes closed, soothed by Nat’s fingers stroking your hair, you listen to the movie and savor the comfort of the moment.

Interrupted by the noise of footsteps, you lift your head to see Peter walking towards you. You smile softly, slip out your pacifier and greet him quietly. “Hi Petey.”

“Hi baby, how are you feeling?”

“I’m ok, mostly tired.” He stops in front of the couch, looking down at you. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a can of cherry Coke. “Stopppppp, thank you!” You smile and take it from his hands.

“No problem, figured you could use a treat.” He looks at your water bottle and empty bowl on the coffee table. “You don’t need anything else? You’re good with just relaxing the rest of the day?”

“Yeah, this is perfect.”

this might turn into a series??? idk! i'd love to write more, gimme some prompts!

#peter parker #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #reader #autistic!reader #peter parker's field trip to the avenger's tower #little!reader #sfw agere #cg!bucky barnes #agere fic #little reader

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writingjourney · 1 month ago

Text

⛧ WIP Wednesday ⛧

as of now untitled Secondo fic based on this premise – 2.9k words, fem!reader, third person pov, suggestive, inexperienced!reader talks about sex, 18+

excerpt from: I – Confession

It is late, his duties almost over, and it is not a rare thing for someone to purposely arrive at this hour, usually when the matter they seek to discuss is of an especially delicate nature. Before he can speak, however, the Sister on the other of the lattice already falls into her confession.

“Forgive me Papa, I know the hour is late and you have lent your ear to many Siblings already but I must–” A deep breath and he sits up straighter as he realises who is talking on the other side. “I must confess that your kind words a few days ago have encouraged me to ask for your counsel in a matter that has been giving me many sleepless nights as of late.”

With no small amount of confusion he realises that she too must mean his brother. He is unaware of such an incident as the one she is describing and last he saw her – this very evening when she left her office with that heavy bag slung over her shoulder – she did not give a hint at being weighed down by something else.

Before he can make himself known, she is already continuing, the words flowing out of her so fast that he can sense the nervousness in her speech. “Perhaps I should start by telling you that I know, as you said, that there is no shame in inexperience and I am aware I am far from the only one who might be insecure about these things. However, the fact of the matter is… there is someone rather experienced who I have become infatuated with. A man, to be precise.” Another deep breath. “He doesn’t know about any of this and he might not even feel the same way about me but still I fear that he might be sorely disappointed if he… if he ever did decide to be intimate with me and found out how very… lacking I am. And I am not talking about sex, per se, it is rather… It is rather that I have never performed a specific act during my past encounters and I know that I will struggle with it.”

“And what act would that be?” he asks, without thinking.

She audibly startles, though she is trying to hide her gasp. For a second she says nothing, then she stammers out, “Oh, this is– Papa– I don’t–”

“Mi dispiace, sorella, you may have expected my brother to be here tonight. I can assure you, however, that you can confide in me just the same.”

Hurried breathing, he fights off an amused smile at her reaction. “But– because we work together–”

“I assure you of my discretion,” he replies. “I have done this for many decades, sorella. None of what we speak about in here will leave the confines of the confessional.”

She takes a moment to consider, perhaps feeling trapped now which is not his intent. He gives her time, the quiet settling once again. After spending so much time together he can’t shake that hint of disappointment that she’d go to his brother of all people, that she still seems too wary to confide in him.

“It’s just–” She takes a deep breath and he fights the urge to take a look at her through the lattice. “Will you be disappointed in me that I feel ashamed of my own inexperience?”

Ah. Is that what kept her from confiding in him? That fear that his good opinion of her might change? “I will never be disappointed by something like this, sorella,” he assures her. “I am only disappointed that you still distrust me so.”

“I trust you,” she stresses. “I do trust you. I think you’re the person who knows me best in this ministry but I do not want things to change between us. You’re… you’re the closest I have to a real friend.”

He cocks his head, surprised by this admission. “I promise you this will not change. I am here, cara. Take your time.”

For a second, she does not speak, shifts around on the bench. He hears her take a few shaky breaths and while this is not out of the ordinary it is unusual for her. Secondo did not take her reluctance for insecurity before tonight, confident as she is in her work, in dealing so well with him of all people. It is endearing to him, makes his heart ache inside his hollow chest in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

“I have been with people,” she says, then, “but it wasn’t… it wasn’t ever anything special. Some… some fumbling, kisses that escalated and ultimately just a sort of disappointingly quick conclusion. I’ve not been very adventurous, it is hard for me to trust people so intimately with my body.”

“And there is nothing wrong with that,” he assures her, glued to her every word.

“Thank you for saying that.” Another pause. “It is just, now that… there is this man, I realised that I am lacking the skills that… that he might be used to. He is experienced and he knows what he wants which is something I find very attractive. And yes, this should not change his feelings for me, if he has any feelings for me, but if he does not want to take things beyond the physical nature of it then this might put a quick end to whatever is between us. Before I have a chance to convince him.”

“I see.” Secondo tries not to be vexed by this, the idea of helping her to please another man. “Sorella, dolce ragazza, will you tell me what it is that you are so intimidated by? Is it an usual thing this man wants from you?”

“No, that’s the thing, Papa. It is not unusual at all, it is… Satan, this is pitiful.” She groans into her hands. “It’s the fact that I have never pleased a man with… with my mouth.”

“Ah.”

“I know this is… it is such a basic thing,” she rambles on. “I am embarrassed, I should not be so worried about it but it’s that I… I am sort of sensitive if you understand what I mean and I’m afraid if I tried… it’d just end in a pathetic performance and he’d decide that he can do better.”

He can feel the blood draining from his face, pooling lower into his body. Only briefly is he irritated by this, being aroused by the mere fraction of the idea of feeling her gagging on his cock. But he can’t indulge this now, not when she is this upset about it. “Sorella, I do not have to tell you that he is not worth your time if this is his reaction.”

“I know and he might not– this might not happen. But with this fear, I’m sure my nerves will make it even worse. I just don’t want to get hurt.”

Secondo takes a deep breath and shifts to sit more upright, leaning towards the lattice now. “As I see it, there are two ways to soothe your worries, sorella. You must confess to him when the time arrives and you wish to please him – and you must tell him truthfully. If he is a man deserving of you he will neither laugh nor judge but guide you with patience. But you must want it, sorella. Remember that every act of sin in Lucifer’s name is one of great enthusiasm, not one of pressure or a sense of duty. If you never wish to perform this act for discomfort or any other reason then he must be understanding of this as well and respect your wishes.”

“But what if he isn’t, Papa? What if he doesn’t want to be with me when he finds out?”

“Then he is not a man that should ever be allowed to touch another person, let alone you. If this should happen, sorella, or if he forces you to do things you do not want, then you will come to me, yes? Promise me.”

She seems taken aback by his vehemence, quiet for a while, but then he sees the shadow of her nodding her head. “I promise.” He hears a sniffle, one that tears right through him. He hasn’t noticed her crying. “But… but what is the other way, Papa?”

Closing his eyes, he fights off the urge to step out of this booth and properly comfort her. He has ulterior motives, of course, biting at him like tiny parasites, not necessarily a bad conscience, he does mean to help her, but the urges underneath are anything but good.

“If you truly wish to learn, then they key is practice – with your hands, with a safe tool or perhaps… an experienced guide.”

He waits for her reaction now, hoping he did not overstep, that he has been reading her right and despite her feelings for another man she still harbours this attraction to him that he’s sensed when they work. He should not be toying with her in such a vulnerable moment, no, but if it would help guide her into arms he knows will keep her safe?

“A guide?” she asks.

He fights off a satisfied smile, curious as ever. “Someone you trust, sorella. Someone with experience and patience to show you how it is done.”

“I could not ask anyone of such a thing, Papa. They’d think I’ve lost my mind.”

“Would they?” he replies, then, unable to hold it back, “Who would you ask, sorella? My brother?”

“No!” Her voice rising. “It’s not like that, Papa. I did not– I just wanted reassurance from him, not to– I don’t think about him like that. And I don’t imagine anyone would voluntarily offer to be subjected to shitty blowjobs for a few weeks.”

“Sorella, you trust me?”

This time, she does not hesitate. “I do, Papa.”

“Then will you come over?”

“Come ov– right now?”

“Yes.”

He hears the wood creaking when she gets up, the soft opening and closing of the door to her booth. In front of his door she hesitates and he almost thinks this is the moment she’ll run away but then, with a visibly shaking hand, she opens. Moonlight streams in, illuminating her face that is still streaked with silent tears. He holds out a hand, and although it is a tight space she fits perfectly into his lap when he drags her there. If she notices that he’s already half-hard she does not comment, secured with a hand around his shoulder.

“Sorella,” he whispers, wiping at her cheeks. “It pains me to see you like this. You should have come to me a long time ago.”

“I know, Papa.”

“Will you let me help you now?”

She glances away, tensing. “I– Would you truly want to?”

“Yes.”

“And not out of pity?”

“No pity, cara.”

She eases in his grasp, allows him to cradle her face in his warm leather gloves. He knows they feel good on the skin, smell of the woodsy oil he uses to keep them soft. It tugs at him, that she is so distressed because of a man who is most likely not even worthy of her. No one is, though, that he knows. And he’d keep her alone if he could, their days spent down in the basement, sorting through his collection between bouts of frantic sex and good food. He’d show her everything, patiently, make her feel so good she’d never think about another man’s cock ever again.

“I’m scared to disappoint,” she admits, then, unusually small.

“I know,” he says. “You want to be good at everything you do, hm? I have noticed this with your work. But we cannot be good at everything right away. I was not, I assure you.”

“You’ve done it before?”

He nods, thumbs stroking over her soft cheeks. “I have done many things, some of which I was good at some of which were just not as good as in my head, hm? It does not matter if you are the best at it, ragazza mia, it matters that you enjoy it just as much as the man who receives it. Or at the very least that you do not mind doing it for someone you like.”

She smiles and he can see her finding back to herself, her gaze stronger, her hands on him firmer, assuring him that she does want to be here, do this with him. Shifting his weight a little he leans back so that she can rest more comfortably in his lap, leaning against the wooden side of the booth. His fingers stroke along her jaw now, one hand moving to her hip while the other traces the curve below her ear, then forward to her chin, over to the other side. He does it until she’s relaxed, used to his touch.

Then he toys with her mouth. She tenses only shortly, allows him to part her lips, completely enraptured by his ministrations. It’s how he’s seen her look at him during mass, one of the few Siblings who never misses any of those he leads. A smile spreads on his lips, pride that she does indeed trust him, perhaps even longs for him, the intimacy he offers, his company. Slow movements, a finger tracing her bottom lip, feeling her teeth against the tip of it.

More daring, he pushes his thumb inside, makes her spread her mouth open wider. She shivers but allows it, her eyes never leaving his. The muscles in her jaw are tense. After a moment he removes his hand, tugs at his glove until it comes off. Perhaps tasting skin will make it more familiar and he has to admit that the thought of feeling her warm mouth on his finger makes his own heart speed up, that heat in his lower belly simmering on a steady flame.

“Is this good?” he asks.

She nods.

“Words, my dove, I need to hear it.”

“It’s okay, Papa.”

“Brava.”

He begins by tracing her lips again. This time, he inserts his index finger, longer, pushing further inside. When he sees that she tolerates it he adds his middle finger, a little deeper once again. He does not let it deter him when she gags right away, just retreats a little before going back to where she was comfortable. His fingers are big, he is aware of it, and she has never taken anyone into her mouth, something that thrills him more than he wants to admit to her face. If it takes him a long time to get her to take all of him then it only means that whatever man she was talking about will slip further and further from her mind.

“Not everyone is comfortable taking things in their mouth,” he explains. “It is only natural for the body to fight off the intrusion when unused to it, hm? It is for survival, sorella, it wants to protect you and you cannot blame it for that. But if you wish it so then we can practice and it will be easier with time. Do you want that?”

She nods, mumbling an affirmative around his digits. He smiles, lifts his other hand to pet her jaw encouragingly. Once again he presses down a little harder, goes a little deeper, and this time she is prepared.

“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs. “Relax your muscles, it makes it easier.”

She tries, he sees it, feels her breath against his knuckles. But it only lasts for a short time before she gags again, sensitive just like she’d said, perhaps even more so than he’s expected. But it is good, he thinks, this is perfect. He can show her, the ideal excuse to be close to her like this.

“Shhh,” he coos when she struggles to breathe, removing his fingers to the tips of her lips. “We will get you there, my dove. Do not worry any longer, your Papa will help you. You only have to trust me and you do, do you not?”

Another nod. At his raised brow she speaks, “I trust you, Papa. More than anyone.”

“Good. We will not go any further now. I want you to think about it, sorella, make sure this is what you want, yes? The next time I see you we will try again and perhaps we will try more if you are ready. We can go as slow as you need, but now you need some rest. I do not want to hear about sleepless nights again, at least not if I am not the cause of it.”

She nods, shifts in his lap, the arousal sitting uncomfortable between her legs and he knows he mirrors this discomfort, unable to keep his hips completely still. It is not for tonight, however, too much for her to work through already. But she looks grateful, he thinks, her eyes stay dry and the relief is palpable as her body finally relaxes.

This time, she does not forget. “Goodnight, Papa,” she whispers and leans in, pressing her face to his to exchange those wet cheek kisses. He holds still, waits for her to kiss his first, loudly, before he reciprocates. When she breaks away a hint of mischief is laced into her smile. “And thank you.”

His hands tighten on her hips for a second, keeping her there in his lap and holding her gaze with all that he wants to promise. Satisfied that she returns it without as much as a flinch, he releases her and she slides off his lap, leaving the booth without another sound.

“Goodnight, indeed,” he whispers, adjusting the bulge in his pants underneath his cassock. When he picks up his book the words swim on the page. He still has another hour.

─── ⛧ ✦ ⛧ ───

i am SO excited to hopefully share this fic soon, it's finally inspired me to write lengthier again and yeah, it's one of those cases where i was suddenly at 5k words after part I of V. so... it'll be a chonker!

#wip wednesday #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii #secondo #reader insert

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year ago

Note

i love as you wish wednesdays! how did the three kids take the news that reader was expecting again? 🥰

It felt very fitting to fill this request this week because reader goes into labor with this pregnancy on April Fool’s Day and Eddie thinks it’s a prank at first (thank you @munson-blurbs for that idea). Yes, I have a whole timeline mapped out for these stories because I’m a nerd. I hope you enjoy the continuing adventures of this crazy gang 😘

Words: 2.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The lock clicks on the front door, swinging inward as Eddie gives it a push from the outside. Gentleman as ever, he gestures for his family to walk into the house before him. Ryan steps in first, you right behind him, then Luke comes over the threshold, Eliza slung over his shoulder, the little girl almost comatose from eating so much of her macaroni and cheese at the restaurant.

Eddie brings up the rear and closes the door behind him. The two of you share a look full of excitement and nerves as your husband kicks off his boots and wipes his hands off on the sides of his dark jeans. It’s rare the Munson house is ever this quiet, all members stuffed from the nice family dinner they just had. Little do the kids know that the evening out was a precursor to some major news.

It’s been a few weeks since you revealed to Eddie that you were pregnant again. The two of you had been caught in a whirlwind of excitement, your husband joking that it didn’t take him long to “get one past the goalie” since the two of you decided to go off all forms of birth control and try for another baby. Ryan, Luke, and Eliza had just started school when you found out though, so both you and Eddie wanted to give them some time to get into the swing of things before you dropped another big change on them.

The few weeks gave you and your husband time to discuss how and when to tell the kids about the new baby. At first, you’d discussed telling the boys and Eliza separately because they’ll understand it differently because of their respective ages. Ultimately, you decided against that because it was important for you both to tell them all together, as the one big family you are. Now the time was here, and you couldn’t help but think the butterflies in your stomach must be fluttering around the baby growing inside of you.

“I’m going to call Hannah,” Ryan says, cheeks pinkening at the mere mention of the girl he likes and went out on a “maybe sort-of” date with last weekend.

“Ah, in a little while,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of his oldest son’s chest, stopping him from heading down the hallway toward his room. He nods his head towards the couch where Luke is flinging a very rag doll looking Eliza down on the middle cushion, nudging Ryan to join his siblings.

Luke takes a seat on one side of Eliza as she struggles to sit up, while Ryan takes the other. The younger brother takes a look at his siblings before looking back to his parents.

“Who’s in trouble?” he asks.

Eddie shakes his head as he pulls the recliner that’s typically tucked away in the corner of the room in front of the couch so the two of you can sit facing your kids. Once he sits, you perch yourself in Eddie’s lap and he immediately wraps his arm around your waist.

“No one is in trouble,” Eddie tells them.

“We just want to talk to you guys,” you add.

“Sounds like trouble,” Eliza mumbles to her brothers, sinking lower in her seat.

An exasperated look is shared between you and your husband, both of your expressions simultaneously turning into giddy smiles in your excitement. The look doesn’t go unnoticed by your sons, who shoot each other questioning glances over their little sister’s curly head.

Now that it was time to break the news, you started to get truly nervous for the first time. What if they didn’t take it well? Sure, the boys had been very excited to find out when you were pregnant with Eliza, but they’ve both grown into teenagers since then and gained the moods that come along with the titles. Eliza might not be thrilled either, used to being the baby of the family, getting the lion’s share of the attention her whole life. Neither you nor Eddie doubted your kids would love their new sibling dearly, but their initial reactions were still a little worrisome.

A soft hand rubs up and down your thigh, as if Eddie can sense your nerves–and possibly shares in them as well. You’d both prepared a time and place to tell them, figured out how to initiate the conversation, but how to come out and say it? Not so much.

Eddie clears his throat and gives your leg a light squeeze, letting you know he’s got you. He gives you a nod, encouraging you forward. You’d wanted to be the one to break the news. In this moment it was hard for you to remember why.

“So, we have some news for you guys.” You know if you let those words sit there too long the three kids will just start shouting different scenarios and ideas at you, so it’s best to just get it out. “You’re going to have a new baby brother or sister.”

There. The hard part was done. Now you were ready to see their reactions. Only, none come at first. You simply sit there in your husband’s lap, three pairs of eyes staring back at you. It feels like your chest seizes up and you internally wonder if you’d said the words aloud or not.

But finally, a smile cracks on Ryan’s face and he sits up straighter.

“Really?” he asks.

The initial response breaks the ice, allowing the younger Munson siblings to sink into the conversation as well.

Eliza looks a little confused while Luke’s eyebrows pull together and he lets out a groan as he flops back on the couch.

“Ugh, that means you guys still do it,” he says.

You can’t help but balk at his words, your cheeks heating up. Honestly, it shouldn’t surprise you coming from Luke. It certainly didn’t shock your husband.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at the fourteen-year-old. “How old do you think we are?”

“63,” Eliza answers immediately with complete confidence.

Stifling a laugh, Ryan leans in towards you, you meeting him halfway to hear what he has to say.

“Be glad that the age part of that is what she focused on,” Ryan mumbles to you and you nod in agreement.

Eddie runs his hand over his face, pushing past the age thing. “Eliza, do you understand about the baby?”

The little girl tilts her head to the side like a confused puppy. She looks alarmingly like her father with an open and curious expression on her cherubic face.

“A baby?” she asks.

“That’s right,” Eddie says with a nod. “There’s a baby growing in Mommy’s tummy.”

This seems to puzzle Eliza more than anything else that has been said. Her face scrunches up as she tilts her head to the other side. “How did it get there?”

At her question, both of your teenage sons turn to look at the two of you with shit-eating grins on their faces. Of course they’d be no help.

“Yeah, how?” Luke asks, feigning innocence.

Heat blooms fire in your cheeks and Eddie clears his throat before shooting the boys a quick glare. By the way he clenches his fist, you can tell your husband is resisting throwing a couch pillow at the younger teen.

“Well,” Eddie says, taking a calming breath, “when mommies and daddies love each other, their love can grow a baby.”

Questions still swim in Eliza’s eyes so you swoop in to add more information before she can ask anything more specific.

“And the baby grows in my belly until they’re big and strong and can be born,” you add.

The little gears turning in Eliza’s head are practically visible as she thinks over her parents’ words. She’s silent for a few moments before speaking.

“I’m the baby.”

“You’ll always be our baby girl,” Eddie is quick to assure her. This was his biggest worry in telling the kids; Eliza was so used to having everyone wrapped around her finger. “Ryan and Luke are still my baby boys.”

The three-year-old isn’t convinced.

“…I’m the baby.”

With a soft smile, you lean forward and scoop your daughter up in your arms. She settles in your lap with a little huff, and you press reassuring kisses to her chocolate curls.

“You are. But there’s going to be another baby. That means you get to be a big sister now.”

The toddler ponders this aspect for a moment, eventually asking, “What I do?”

“Well, before the baby is born you can help me pick out things for the nursery and some cute baby clothes,” you say, appealing to her stylish streak. “You know I trust your fashion sense more than the boys.”

Eliza’s small head bobs up and down in agreement. Never again would she let her brothers pick out her outfits—she’s learned her lesson.

“Then after the baby is born,” you continue, “you can teach them all kinds of stuff. You’ll be to the new baby like Ryan and Luke are to you.”

“Will…” Eliza’s bottom lip starts to tremble, another worry taking hold in her mind. “Will they still love me and play with me?”

Her big brothers are on duty though, already reassuring her before you can even raise your head to look at them.

“Of course, squirt,” Luke says, reaching forward and poking her full belly. “You’re not getting rid of us that easily.”

“A new baby is just one more person to love,” Ryan explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “But that doesn’t mean we love you any less.”

“The heart can always make more love,” Eddie adds, taking his daughter’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“And just think,” Luke says, eyes widening with his trademark mischievous grin, “when they get older, you and I can play pranks on them like Ryan and I do to you.”

Large doe eyes light up at that, Eliza always wanting to be a part of her big brother’s shenanigans. The new idea clearly excites her and the prospect of her becoming a mini-Luke is too exhausting for you to even consider.

Eliza next turns those big brown eyes on you, now looking a little more serious than excited.

“Mama, can you make the baby a girl?”

Both you and Eddie chuckle at her request.

“I can’t control that, sorry kid,” you tell her with a small smile.

“I hope she’s a girl,” Eliza says, sounding more like she’s declaring what will be rather than what she wants.

“No!” Luke protests with an overdramatic whine. “Ryan and I need another boy on our side.”

“I say it’s a girl,” Ryan says and it makes Luke drop his jaw and look at his older brother as if he’s a traitor. But, of course, it’s Luke, so another scheme pops into his brain.

“How much are you willing to bet?”

“Oh, God,” you mumble, dropping your head forward to rest your forehead atop Eliza’s curls.

The older Munson brother appraises the younger, his eyes suspicious and inquisitive. “What do you have in mind?”

“Loser gets a tattoo.”

“No,” Eddie immediately interjects. He didn’t mind the betting, but he wasn’t about to let one of his teenage sons choose something permanent to ink on his other teenage son for the rest of their lives.

“You have like 80 of them!” Luke whines at his father.

“But all my choice, none from a bet,” Eddie says. That may or may not be true, but he’s not about to give his impressionable son any ideas. “Next.”

“Loser wears a Care Bear onesie—with a hood—into a McDonald’s and eats lunch there,” Ryan says, pointing a finger in his brother’s direction.

Luke immediately accepts. “Deal. Winner picks the Care Bear costume.”

They shake on it and Eddie can’t help the amused smirk that dances on his lips.

“I cannot wait to see this.”

The bet now settled, Ryan turns to face you. “How far along are you?”

“Just eight weeks,” you say.

“Maybe we won’t find out if it’s a girl or boy beforehand. Just keep the suspense of the bet in the air until the birth,” Eddie muses. Of course he’s egging this on.

“Can I name this baby too?” Ryan asks, eyes lighting up.

This question catches Eliza by surprise and her eyes widen comically as she stares at him.

“You named me?!”

“You’re lucky. Luke wanted to name you Donnie,” Ryan explains.

Eyes getting impossibly wider, your little girl looks up at you. “Mommy, don’t let Luke name the baby.”

With a laugh, you press a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t worry, sweet pea.”

Ryan lounges back on the couch, a smirk on his face as his eyes flit back and forth between you and Eddie.

“You know, I think you’re having this baby because I’ll be a senior next year and you don’t want an empty nest when I’m gone.”

“This is not how I envisioned this conversation going,” Eddie says with a huff of laughter.

“What did you want more of?” Luke asks. “Cheers? Tears? I’ll be happy to provide either way.”

Both of your sons start performing over-the-top expressions for Eddie, fake crying and grinning in glee, proving once and for all that they both inherited his dramatic gene.

With a sigh bigger than you’d expect from such a small girl, Eliza snuggles back against you and places a small hand on your tummy. All three Munson men start cackling in laughter at something Luke did, but Eliza just looks up at you with a straight face.

“Boys,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Tha’s why I want baby to be a girl.”

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