#I have been told that it eventually loosens up

[bumblesimagines]

look, the sex is great, but i don't want to get involved.

i don't feel that way about you.

Maddy Perez

look, the sex is great, but i don't want to get involved.

i don't feel that way about you.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

As much as he hated admitting it, house parties weren't a complete waste of time. Sure, half the time the only way to have fun was drinking until you were comatose and praying nobody caught the embarrassing moments on camera, but at least they were a good way at meeting others. (Y/N) merely had to wait for the party to really begin once everyone had a bit of alcohol or weed or harder shit in their system and were screaming the lyrics to whatever song the host put on, most often from a hip hop playlist full of songs about gangbanging or doing drugs put together by a suburban white kid who'd only ever touched weed once in their life. Sometimes, he'd wait around for Maddy and her posse to show up, wait a couple mintues while she pretended he didn't exist until the party bored her and she dragged him someplace private, but (Y/N) wanted to spice things up. After all, his father had always told him that 'men eventually get bored of eating the same meal everyday'. 

So, after scoping out the scene at the little house party some random classmate had thrown, (Y/N) found himself being approached by a pretty redhead he vaguely recognized from 3rd period English class and only had to take a few sips of the spiked punch before leaning in to kiss her. It'd all been going well. The redhead whose name slipped his mind the second after she told him had perched herself on his lap, the pink lipstick she wore certainty smudging against his lips though he hardly minded. He geared himself up to ask if she wanted to head upstairs, only for his eye to catch Maddy making a beeline straight for him with her two friends tripping over themselves to follow. 

He hardly had time to react before Maddy grabbed a fistful of the redhead's hair, a shriek of pain and surprise leaving the girl as Maddy pulled on it and dragged her right onto the floor. (Y/N) shot up from the couch while everyone around them moved out the way, making a circle around them and fumbling for their phones. 

"The fuck's the matter with you?!" The redhead shrieked, one hand holding onto Maddy's wrist in a vain attempt at getting her to let go. 

"The fuck's the matter with me?! Look at yourself, bitch!" Maddy shouted back at her, ignoring Kat and Cassie's pleading shouts for her to calm down until she finally released the girls hair with a forceful shove. The redhead grunted, touching the back of her head where Maddy had grabbed her before she reached for a nearby unattended cup and tossed it in Maddy's direction, drenching Maddy's miniskirt and most of her thighs in beer. A chorus of 'ooh's spread around the crowd, shining lights from phone's recording pointed at the two of them. "You dumb fucking slu-"

"That's enough, Maddy," (Y/N) coiled your arms around her waist before she could lunge for the girl and hauled her off, shoving his way through the crowd while she withered around in his hold, shouting insults and threats at the top of her lungs. Her nails dug into his hands, trying to pry them of herself while he searched for a door that hopefully led to an empty room. He found one by the stairs and opened it, flickering the night on and finding himself looking into the garage. Good enough. He walked in, minding the small step, and shut the door behind him with lock for good measure. 

"Let me go." Maddy demanded and he loosened his grip enough for her to wriggle free. She staggered forward and looked down at herself, irritably groaning and wiping her palms across her bare skin in hopes of drying herself. (Y/N) exhaled heavily and took a glance at the back of his hands, finding red lines from her nails. He typically never minded scratch marks, but only under the right circumstances. 

"What the hell was that about?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry for interrupting you before you could fuck that bitch infront of everyone. I didn't realize you were into that shit, my fucking bad." Maddy snapped, letting out a huff and raking her hand through her hair, pulling strands away from vision. She murmured angrily under her breath when she looked down at herself again before fluttering her eyes shut and taking in a deep breath. "Whatever. Forget about it, okay?"

"No, no I won't forget about you almost ripping some chick's hair from her scalp for no reason!" 

"You stick your tongue in her mouth for five seconds and suddenly you start giving a shit about her? Give me a break. She'll be fine, (Y/N). She'll have a headache for a couple hours and that's it." Maddy rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I didn't even hit her."

"That doesn't explain why you did it, Maddy. You were fine one second and the next you're trying to fight some chick you've never even spoken to before. What's your problem?" He stared at her and she refused to look back at him, instead keeping her head angled toward the tools hung up on the wall.  

"Forget about it, (Y/N). Let's just... let's just have some fun, okay?" Maddy exhaled softly and finally looked at him, her heels clicking against the concrete floor as she closed the distance and slung her arms around his neck, her perfume invading his senses and maroon-colored lips capturing his. He grunted, grabbing hold of her hips and pushing her back. "Come on, (Y/N). You know you would've ditched her for me if I asked."

"But you didn't, Maddy. You cockblocked me by dragging around that damn chick and you won't even tell me why. You getting jealous on me or something? 'Cause that's what it looked like." (Y/N) pried her arms off his shoulders and stepped around her, creating distance between them. Maddy crossed her arms, head tilting back and another groan leaving her mouth.

"So what if I was?"

"So what? Look, the sex is great, but I don't want to get involved with whatever bullshit you've got going on with Jacobs, alright? You're a cool chick, Maddy. You're practically perfect. But.. I don't feel that way about you. I've seen you and Jacobs. You'll never let each other go, and that's just not for me. I'm... sorry."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #euphoria #euphoria x reader #euphoria x you #euphoria x male reader #euphoria x y/n #euphoria hbo #maddy perez #maddy perez x reader #maddy perez x male reader #maddy perez x you #maddy perez x y/n

[lazywitchling]

[attempts to shuffle Modern Witch by riffling the cards] [literally cannot bend them]

[attempts to overhand shuffle them] [too slippery, they fall out of my hands]

[flings them on the floor]

They're shuffled.

#image-wise it's one of my favorite decks #I literally will not use it because the cardstock CANNOT be worked with #I have been told that it eventually loosens up #I have tried everything and it's not happening #it's at the point where I'm not buying any more decks from this publisher if I can't frickin' use them #modern witch tarot #jes vs tarot

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve never had a particularly strong desire to get high. Altered mind states have always been somewhat unappealing to me. The only drug I’ve ever enjoyed taking was a prescription strength muscle relaxant that loosened all my knots at once and sent me into the boneless slumber of jello. Top marks.

But I have dabbled with pot. As I’m wildly sensitive to smoke my only recourse was to try edibles and anyone could’ve predicted this was a recipe for disaster. So here’s the story of the first time I got high.

Connor was a major stoner. He was a high energy guy who loved hiking, had his shit together, and absolutely loved getting high and relaxing. One day he decided to make pot brownies. Connor was an amazing cook in his own right but he came into my life at a time when I was eating mayonnaise sandwiches and started giving me real food so I viewed him as a paragon of cookery. He made amazing desserts. And he didn’t make a batch of no pot brownies.

I’d never had one of Connor’s brownies, before, but dear god I wanted one when they came out of the oven in a waft of rich chocolatey smells. They were fudgey and perfect and all that I wanted in the world was to eat one. I watched him take a bite, burning with envy and desire.

Being high seemed like a small price to pay if only I could sink my teeth into the warm splendor of brownie. I came up to where he was sitting on the couch, slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hey. I want to try a bite,” I told him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” I was sure as fuck that I wanted that brownie in my mouth.

Connor was sat facing the tv and held up his hand without looking so I could take a bite. I am not a creature of modest bites. And I wanted that brownie. I took a huge bite, carving into the interior of the brownie, leaving Connor with a only a rim.

He pulled his hand back and saw the brownie crime I had committed and gave a resigned chuckle. “Well this is going to be fun.”

On one other occasion in my life I’ve tried an edible and there was a brief relaxed period before things went horribly wrong that made me think, this is probably where most people stop and enjoy themselves.

But on this occasion, the massive bite of brownie didn’t drift me slowly up through layers of being high. It skyrocketed me into high space with great prejudice. I have no memory of a middle point, I wasn’t high and then I was suddenly so high I couldn’t function.

I’ve heard people talk about paranoia. I didn’t have that. Some people mention nervousness, no, none of that for me. My mind was simply gone. A thought would blip to life on one side of my brain and fail to travel through the fog to find its conclusion. I couldn’t think. I wasn’t really experiencing sensation. I was nothing in the void.

When Connor realized I’d been staring wall eyed at nothing for too long he said, “How are you doing?”

It took a long time to process the words and even longer to slur out, “I can see everything.”

I don’t remember him getting up and leaving, or waiting, or anything really. Thoughts flickered and died in my mindscape, meaningless and alone.

Then Connor put headphones on me.

I was unable to conceive of anything as wonderful as music surrounding me, and thus began the only nice part of the trip. I might have experienced ego death but at least I had the ethereal sounds of Pure Reason Revolution to wrap myself in.

I’m not sure how long the nice phase lasted. But eventually something started going wrong in my mouth. My throat became uncomfortable enough to pierce the haze I was in. It was almost numb, and impossibly dry. I drank water to no avail. Finally I conceived of the solution. “Ice cream!” I demanded of Connor.

He went to grab some and I was dismayed that when I took a bite the sensation in my throat intensified. “It made it worse,” I complained.

“Made what worse?” Connor asked, because of course I hadn’t actually told him why I’d wanted ice cream.

When I told him what was happening he said, “Oh, of course ice cream is going to make cotton mouth worse.”

“Well then why did you give it to me!” I complained. He smiled fondly at my irrational grumping and got me more water.

Finally I’d had enough. Music couldn’t erase my discomfort, I was getting frustrated I couldn’t think but I was still high as balls and I wanted the night to be over. Connor suggested I go to bed so I climbed up into my bed and lay there, uncomfortably high.

I couldn’t sleep. My throat was so cottony, a side effect I hadn’t known existed and I thoroughly loathed.

Then I thought: I could masturbate! Connor had talked about enjoying that while high. I’d give it a shot. My body however was wiser than my head and was having none of this plan. It refused to respond, stubbornly insisting that now was not the time.

I doubled down, refusing to give up on this horrible idea and in a bitter struggle, and against my body’s own wishes, I produced an orgasm that rated a 0 on the pleasure scale. Something happened but it was like a resentful flex of muscles that stopped immediately.

Furious with the overall experience of being high I buried my head in pillows and finally slept. I told Connor the next day about my attempt and he facepalmed so hard. “Why didn’t you just go to sleep! You were way too high to enjoy that.”

I grumbled and agreed that it was very stupid. I tried to weigh the single bite of brownie I had with the absolutely wretched hours of discomfort and while it didn’t quite balance it was still pretty close. It was a really good brownie.

#ramblies #funny #writing #ffs foibles #marijuana #it’s silly now that it’s legal in my state there’s so many ways I could try it now #but I have less than no desire to make another foray #funny story

[laundrybiscuits]

(Continued from this snippet! Content notes: police interrogation, homophobia)

“You don’t look gay.” The detective gives Steve a very obvious once-over. Steve tries to look gayer as subtly as he can. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Guess I’ll have to let my boyfriend know you don’t think I look gay enough to fuck him.”

The detective’s face twists slightly, like he’s smelled something bad. “No need to be like that. I’m just saying, I bet a good-looking guy like you could get a girlfriend pretty easy.”

“You’re not my type,” says Steve. He smiles with his teeth, even though his heart is going fast and he can feel his palms starting to sweat. 

The detective’s hands tense, and Steve wonders if he’s about to get hit, but they relax again and the detective sits back.

“Just doing my job,” says the detective. “Because, funny enough, we asked around with all your little friends, and it seems like you used to be a bit of a ladies’ man.”

“Things change,” says Steve. 

“In fact…seems like none of your friends ever even saw you talk to Munson before. Moved in different circles and everything. I remember what high school was like.”

The detective leans close. 

“So why would the captain of the swim team, a nice normal boy from a good family with a string of pretty girlfriends, ever—ever—stick his neck out like this for some murdering scum like Munson? That’s what I’m trying to figure out, here.”

“Don’t fucking talk about him like that,” says Steve. His mouth is dry. His pulse is thundering in his ears. “He didn’t kill anyone. He was with me the whole time. He’s—he didn’t kill anyone.”

“Hm,” says the detective. 

It takes a while for them to stop interrogating him. They keep asking him the same questions over and over, trying to trip him up. He asks for water and doesn’t get it. In the back of his mind, a hysterical little voice is shrieking Scoops Ahoy! I work for Scoops Ahoy!, but he manages to keep it locked down. Doesn’t let himself get baited, just keeps repeating that Eddie was with him the whole time and neither of them know anything. 

It takes a while, but it’s over eventually.

When he leaves the station, Eddie’s standing outside with Hopper and Joyce Byers, wearing a shirt and jeans that definitely belonged to Jonathan at some point. Eddie’s got his hands tucked into his armpits, looking antsy and tense, but he’s free and standing on his own two feet. It’s a pretty big upgrade from when Steve last saw him about a week or two ago. 

It’s almost too easy to go straight over to him, wrapping him up in a tight hug like they’ve had their arms around each other a million times. 

“Oof. Easy there, tiger,” laughs Eddie. “I’m, uh, still a little fragile.”

“Sorry,” says Steve, and loosens his hold. He doesn’t let go all the way.

“Come on, boys,” says Joyce. “I’m taking you two home. Steve, Eddie’s been staying with us, but we’re a little short on spare beds and it’s not great for his recovery. We’re moving him to your place until we can figure out something better, okay?” 

———

Joyce drops them off and helps carry in a few garbage bags full of Eddie’s stuff. There’s not that much.

And then the door closes behind her, and Steve’s alone with Eddie for the first time since—actually, maybe ever. 

“So,” says Eddie. “What…the fuck, Harrington.”

“Is that an actual question?” Steve says. He rolls his shoulders, trying to get some of the stiffness out. “I mean, didn’t Hopper and Mrs. Byers explain everything to you?”

“Kind of? I mean, I still think this is probably the worst idea of all time, but they told me—anyway, what I meant just now was a much more personalized and individual what the fuck. As in, why the fuck would you agree to any of this? You know you’re never gonna get another girl in this town to look at you now.”

“Dumping me already? Ice cold, man.”

Eddie groans and actually throws his hands in the air in frustration. Steve hadn’t known people did that in real life. 

“Jesus christ.” Eddie wheels around and grabs two of the garbage bags. “I can’t do this right now, I need to take a fucking nap. We will be discussing this later.”

“Still don’t know what there is to discuss,” says Steve, but he picks up the last garbage bag and leads the way to the spare room. 

Eddie pitches forwards onto the bed, arms outstretched and face mashed into the pillow. “Fuck yes, I am going to marry this goddamn mattress. Hit the lights when you leave,” he says, slightly muffled. 

For a second, Steve finds himself stepping forward with a hand outstretched to—do something. He’s not sure what. Touch Eddie’s hair, or something dumb like that. His face warms. He’s really glad Eddie isn’t looking at him and doesn’t see how he’s kind of just standing there with a hand out for no reason. 

He turns around, flicking the light switch on his way out, and doesn’t look back.

#steddie #the document title for this is literally “2 cakes” #bc again...there is already a fic with this premise. by bonitabreezy. as I have already said: please go read that instead! #this is like the writing equivalent of a figure study #don't know where it's going or if it's going anywhere. I truly am just vibing with increasingly dubious historical accuracy.

[steviebears]

Could you do an Eddie munson x reader smut where the reader is Joyce’s daughter and Joyce finds out they have been having sex and is worried about her because she has only heard bad things about Eddie through Johnathan and will

omg 🥺this is so cute anon thank you!

edit: i just realized you wanted smut IM SORRY

GENRE: fluff, we all need it

WARNING: fem!reader, implied smut, protective Jonathan

Joyce watches, shocked, as the long haired boy falls from your window, buckling his belt with a dazed smile on his way out to leave in his beat up van.

She knew you were grown now, and even though you were the eldest of her children, your choices still worried her. Especially after what Jonathan said.

Joyce was acting odd the next morning. You had left early for work so she was left with Jonathan for a late breakfast.

"What is it mom, you've been staring at your eggs with that look on your face for the past five minutes." Jonathan questions her, taking another bite of potatoes.

"I saw the weirdest thing last night and I just don't know what to make of it." Jonathan perks up at that. Considering the things known to happen in this town, he was interested.

"What did you see?"

"Well, I don't know if I should say." She cared about your privacy, she really did, but maybe Jonathan knew something about this mystery boy. Jonathan just gives her a 'tell me' look, and she breaks.

"I saw a boy leaving Y/n's bedroom window last night." Jonathan drops his fork.

"What?" Despite being your younger brother, the boy was pretty protective of you.

"Who was it?" He straightens his posture.

"I don't know! Some guy, long hair and he left in this old van." Jonathan shut his eyes, instantly knowing who it was. He knew you two had been friendly in the past, and he certainly did not approve.

"It's Eddie Munson." Jonathan sighs, rubbing his eyes. Now, Jonathan would never interfere with your life. He had his worries just like any brother, but you were an adult and he knew he shouldn't say anything to you. That didn't apply to Joyce, though. Jonathan told Joyce about Eddie, most of the things he'd heard about the guy. He tried to put it lightly but there isn't exactly a good way to say he was a drug dealer.

Will was a different story. He thought Eddie was cool, but even he wouldn't approve of him dating his own sister.

Joyce stood by your door contemplating what to say. Eventually she knocked.

"Y/n?" She called out.

"Uh- yeah one second mom!" You and Eddie immediately broke away from eachother, looking at one another in panic before you instructed him to get in your closet.

"Okay come in!" She opens the door gently and shuts it behind her, making you nervous. Did you do something wrong? She sits on your bed next to you, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

"I wanted to talk to you about... something I saw the other night." She shifts in her spot and avoids eye contact.

"There was a boy- Eddie Munson? I saw him leaving your bedroom window and you know, looked like you two were getting... pretty close." Your face gets hot as you remember that night, the fact that your mom was talking to you about this was immensely embarrassing especially in front of Eddie. You could practically see his smile from behind the closet door.

"And I just don't think it's a great idea, neither does Jonathan. This guy he's- not exactly a golden boy I hear?" You were going to kill Jonathan for ratting out Eddie.

"Mom, trust me. He and I- we trust each other and I know he would never hurt me. Jonathan would kill him if he did, you know that." You were right and Joyce knew she had to loosen the reins.

"Okay. But, you guys are being safe right? Because the last thing you need is-" You can almost hear Eddie's snickering and the hot feeling in your face is killing you.

"Yes! Yes, mom." She smiles and looks like she remembers one more thing.

"Oh, but make sure you go pee after because-" At that, a fit of commotion is heard from the closet. She looks there, then back at you. She gives you a 'is he here?!' look and gets up. Joyce is very surprised to see a tall lanky man with crazy hair fall out of the closet.

"Jesus Y/n!" She looks at you with a mom look and back to Eddie who was desperately trying to bite back his smile. It didn't work and his pearly whites were on full display.

"Use the front door next time. No more sneaking in." She sighs as you have your smiling face in your hands.

"Yes ma'am." He says before laughing, causing her to roll her eyes- the smallest of grins on her face.

#eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season 4 #st4 #stranger things season four #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson edit #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates! - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 AO3

When Steve arrived back home that evening, he was a little surprised to find it mostly empty. There was no sign of Chrissy or Eddie’s Corroded Coffin boys apart from the empty containers of ice-cream and candy, along with an empty bottle and a half of wine. 

Eddie himself was sitting curled up on the couch watching the TV with wide unseeing eyes, chewing through his fingers.

His gaze snapped over to the door but as soon as he caught sight of Steve, his shoulders loosened and his thumb was released from his teeth. 

He looked relieved and Steve could not fathom what could possibly have Eddie feeling relieved to see him. 

Eddie seemed to think the same thing because the next second the scowl was back on his face.

“Where is everyone?” He asked, stepping forward and starting to pick up the stray wrappers and empty containers while Eddie watched him like a hawk, his shoulders tense again, frowning.

“Told them to go. Said I was fine here by myself.” He mumbled.

Steve dropped the trash in the bin and turned to him, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Are you?”

Eddie bristled, puffing himself out, gearing up for a fight while Steve stared him down. But then he watched in real time as Eddie was only able to hold it for a few seconds before deflating, slumping back down into the cushions.

“I’m fine.”

Steve pursed his lips. 

After talking with Robin, he had to admit to himself that maybe he did want to look out for Eddie, a little. Because Eddie was scared. He was nervous and jumpy and clearly did not like being home alone.

“Are you worried he’s gonna come back?” 

If Rick did come back, he didn’t think Eddie would allow himself to be pushed around but it would fuck him up mentally even more than he already was. 

And Steve couldn’t have that.

Eddie stood, brushing crumbs from the front of his shirt and glaring in Steve’s direction without meeting his eyes. 

“I’m fine.” He insisted, turning on his heel and storming back into his room.

Steve sighed to himself after the door was slammed closed.

Well that went great.

“Shit.”

Steve wasn’t sure whether it was better to keep dancing around Eddie, being as gentle with him as he could stomach without making it obvious, or if he should go back to the way they used to be. Because if he knew anything about Eddie, it was that he couldn’t stand the idea of being handled like he was delicate even though he was clearly affected by what had happened to him.

Eventually he settled on a mix of the two.

But still, Steve was struggling to find a balance between sniping and bitching at each other regardless of what kind of wounds might be there and trying to not pour salt all over it.

He and Eddie still snapped at each other but Steve kept any arguments on his side away from anything Rick or Rick adjacent, and as the weeks went on he took note of what would have Eddie flinching or recoiling. 

He erased those triggers from his snappy comebacks.

One of the things that was completely off limits was anything to do with sex. 

After that first night when Eddie came home bloody and bruised because his ex fucking attacked him, Steve had to remind himself, they traded barbs about topping and bottoming and power dynamics in the bedroom all the time before, but now?

Eddie really, really didn’t like those things being thrown around.

He never said so much to Steve outright, almost like he expected Steve to pounce on it, which made a new flame of anger burn up in his stomach thinking about why Eddie would think he’d even do that, because it had to come from somewhere, right? Eddie had to have been treated like that in the past to make him think that Steve would do the same.

But he didn’t, he wouldn’t. He’d never.

And as time passed he got the impression that Eddie was starting to see that.

He just hoped he could make it obvious that he just wanted… what did he want?

He wanted what was best for Eddie, but why did he fucking care?

He didn’t care, that was the thing. 

He didn’t fucking care.

He kept telling himself that.

He was just being a decent human.

He didn’t care, he just wasn’t trying to kick a guy while he was down.

It had been a couple of months since the whole Rick thing had happened and Eddie had stayed at home for most of it, only leaving to go to work or to pick up groceries.

He didn’t go out anymore.

He didn’t hang out in bars or clubs or enter gigs with his band.

Chrissy called over often and the Corroded Coffin boys even more so.

But it was after one visit from Chrissy that things seemed to have changed. 

Steve had heard them talking. She was trying to encourage him. He wanted to go back out, it seemed. He missed it. But he was nervous. And she wanted to help him. 

He heard his own name being mentioned once or twice but aside from that he couldn’t make much of it out. 

Not that he cared to. It was none of his business and he wasn’t going to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong.

No matter how much he wanted to.

But apparently it was going to be done anyway, because one evening, as Steve sat over a bowl of soup, he became aware of Eddie hovering behind him.

He didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t even look up from the TV where he was eating on the sofa, always enjoying the feeling of rebellion in the small act.

His mother would have had a fit if she’d seen him but she wasn’t going to see him. Was never going to see him again after the things she’d said, and good riddance to her.

So Eddie hovered and Steve ignored.

Until,

“You're a reformed slut, right?”

Steve stopped his spoon half way to his mouth, just sitting there frozen for a moment before he slowly put the spoon back into the bowl.

With a glance up he could see that Eddie was red faced, twisting his rings around his fingers and looking up to the ceiling like the mysterious brown stain was suddenly very interesting.

Steve took a deep, soothing breath in. 

“Calling me ‘reformed’ makes me sound like it's something I should be ashamed of. Like it was wrong.”

Eddie finally brought his eyes down to him with a raised eyebrow. “Where's the fun if it's not a little wrong?”

“Whatever.” He replied with an eye roll. “Yes, I'm a reformed slut. What's your question?”

“How…” Eddie crossed his arms and turned to the side, looking away from him again, as if it would make this conversation go easier. “How do I… do… that?”

Steve blinked at him. “Be a slut?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you go out there and be a slut.” He shrugged. “It's not that hard.”

Eddie scoffed then muttered, “For you, maybe.”

Steve sighed, putting his bowl down on the coffee table. “Well, what are you looking to get out of it? Orgasms?”

Eddie wouldn’t have any trouble picking up people, never has had any trouble picking up people in the past, even when he clearly wasn’t single, people still wanted to try their luck. Steve had seen it with his own eyes and he couldn’t blame them. 

Eddie was gorgeous, all dark hair, dark eyes, dark tattoos and pale skin, lanky limbs and wiry muscles. And he used to be all confidence and devil may care attitude that drew people in.

Though that seemed to have fled him after Rick.

But casual sex with strangers had never really been something Eddie seemed interested in so Steve was a little confused about the line of questioning.

Eddie always seemed like a ‘connection’ type of guy. 

Eddie's ears went pink. “No. I can do that on my own, thanks.”

“Yeah, I thought so. So what are you looking to get out of it?”

He shrugged. “I dunno… like… I haven't- not since Rick. And I want to feel…” He shrugged again, turning in an aimless circle. “I dunno.”

“You wanna feel… desirable?” Steve hedged.

“I guess.”

“And you don't wanna get orgasms out of that?” He asked again, just to be sure. 

“Is that allowed?” Eddie snapped.

“Of course it's allowed, Mary. Don't go out there and start having sex if you don't want to be having sex.”

“I won't. I wouldn't. I'm not… I don't think I'm ready.”

“Okay, that's okay. And it’s okay if you never are. You don’t have to be going out and having casual sex at all.”

Eddie hummed then kicked the base of the sofa, frustrated, hands stuffed in his pockets. “But how do I go and slut it up if I'm not having sex?”

“You don't have to have sex to be a slut.” Steve spread his hands out. “It's a vibe.”

“A vibe.” Eddie mocked.

“Yeah, honey. A vibe. You can go out and just get kisses if that's all you want.”

Eddie actually fell silent at that, thinking.

“Just kisses?”

“Yeah. Just kisses. With tongue, without tongue, with hands, without hands. Y’know, whatever.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. Okay. I can do just kisses. Okay.” 

He paused, like he was going to actually thank Steve which would be fucking wild but the second Eddie turned to look at him, it was like he'd just remembered who he was talking to and his entire face flamed before he turned on his heel and stomped out of the room.

Steve just rolled his eyes, returning to his soup.

Despite that little conversation, Eddie didn’t go out for another two weeks. 

Or at least Steve didn’t see him go out.

Not that he was watching.

It was like Eddie was trying to build himself up to it and more than once Steve had wanted to remind him that he really didn’t have to do it if he didn’t want to.

But it seemed Eddie was determined to get back on the horse.

It was one Friday evening when Eddie came out of his room and hovered again, just standing in the apartment, putting himself within Steve’s line of vision.

“Can I help you?” Steve asked, not bothering to look up from his newspaper, slowly lifting it a little higher to cover his eyeline as he sat on the couch.

Eddie didn’t answer and didn’t move until with a roll of his eyes, Steve tipped down a corner of the paper.

Eddie raised his eyebrows at him, though he seemed reluctant to do it, almost as if saying ‘Well? How do I look?’

Steve pushed his glasses further up his nose, scraping his eyes up and down Eddie’s body.

He looked good.

Really good.

His long legs were wrapped up in a pair of tight ripped jeans, he had his usual chains at his hips, perfect for pulling. There was a large belt buckle settled across his hips, drawing the eye down to the hem of his black crop top, a dark trail of hair just visible underneath along with the lithe muscles of his stomach, and sides. The ripped out sleeves of the top left an excessive amount of skin and tattoos on display and his face was slowly getting redder and redder the longer Steve looked.

He looked fucking delicious.

Except for-

“Fix your hair and you’re good.”

Steve flipped his newspaper back up and decided he wasn’t going to think about it anymore. 

Nope, no way.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Eddie asked. “Chrissy said it looks good up.”

Which wasn’t a lie. Eddie did look unfairly good with his hair up, but not like that.

Scraped back to within an inch of its life, practically pulling his skin taut and leaving his bangs looking especially thin. 

It wasn’t a cute look.

“It does.” Steve said, letting it slip out without his permission. He barreled forward, trying not to draw attention to it. “But not like that. That’s not what she meant.”

“Well, what the hell did she mean then?”

Steve flipped his newspaper down again. Eddie was glaring at him with his hands on his hips, like this was all Steve’s fault. 

“She meant when it’s, like, messy. Looser.”

Eddie just looked at him bewildered as Steve huffed and closed his newspaper, folding it haphazardly and throwing it down onto the couch next to him before standing and grabbing him by the wrist.

“Come on. I’m not letting you leave the house with hair like that.” He said, dragging him into their shared bathroom. “If it gets linked back to me my reputation would be ruined.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a stereotype.”

Steve shoved him further into the room with a scowl. “A stereotype who’s about to help you get some kisses, so shut up and say thank you.”

Eddie snorted. “Keep dreaming, sweetheart.”

Steve was maybe a little less gentle than he should have been, standing behind him, taking Eddie’s hair out of the ponytail he had it in, tugging on the strands and leaving Eddie grimacing with a scowl on his face as he glared at Steve through the mirror.

Once he had it all untangled, Steve ran his hands through, close to the scalp, trying to get the strands to relax a little more from where they’d been tied up so tight and Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed.

Right. He should probably be a little gentler but he was surprised to find that Eddie’s hair was actually quite soft and the curls wanted to clump together in the way that curls did.

So he was forced to come to the conclusion that Eddie had just been dragging a brush through his perfectly healthy hair and fucking up his curls at every opportunity and Steve had to stop himself from sitting Eddie down right at that moment and giving him a lecture on proper curl maintenance. 

Except no, because that wasn’t what he was doing right now, he was trying to keep his good hair reputation intact for tonight.

That was all.

With gentle fingers he coaxed Eddie’s hair back up onto his head, trying it off with the same hairband and lightly tugging to give it a bit more volume. 

He was in the zone now, the hair zone.

He turned Eddie to face him with a hand at his shoulder.

He was a little surprised at how easily Eddie went and it was only when he was hovering so close to his face, hands in his hair, tugging a few whips free and tucking a few more behind his ear, he noticed how quiet Eddie was.

Moving his gaze down from Eddie’s hairline, he felt like he’d had the air punched from his lungs as he met Eddie’s eyes.

How had he never noticed them before?

Deep and brown, almost black from a distance but with different shades up close, copper and caramel and chocolate and something deeper, almost like burnt wood, staring at him with such intensity he could feel it all the way in the back of his brain.

Steve took a step back.

This was not happening. 

This was not happening.

Eddie tracked every one of his micro movements with those eyes, watching him closely like he was a squirming insect. 

It made his skin itch.

“It’ll do.” Steve said into the thick silence around them, distracting himself by reaching into his cupboard for the hairspray.

“Hold your breath.”

He barely gave Eddie a moment to respond, his mouth hanging open in a question and his eyes a little wider than they had been before he sprayed, coating Eddie’s hair with a light spritz while Eddie scrunched his eyes and mouth closed, devolving into coughs once Steve had stopped assaulting him.

“Jesus.” He hacked out, a hand to his chest and a glare sent in Steve’s direction. “Are you ever not a bitch?”

Steve just gave him a peppy grin. “No.”

Then, against his better judgement, he opened his mouth again.

“You look gorgeous, darling.” He said, managing to put a slightly condescending tone into it because that was not the kind of fucking game he was playing here. He was not… feeling things about his dickhead roommate. 

He barely caught Eddie’s eye roll before he turned on his heel and booked it out of their tiny shared bathroom, not wanting to be trapped in there with him any longer.

Eddie cursed after him as he left and Steve was content to hide away beneath his newspaper again, keeping it firmly in front of his face as Eddie finished up whatever primping he was doing in the bathroom and left the apartment without another word shared between them.

He wasn’t awake when Eddie stumbled in home that night, or the weekend after that, though he was quietly delighted to see that Eddie had taken his advice to heart and followed the steps to keeping his hair looking good when he had it up, though he didn’t wear it up all the time. 

Steve was also left very confused for a while after Eddie left to go out on the third weekend when he walked into their bathroom and was met with the smell of his own cologne still lingering in the air.

It took a few minutes of him scouring his own memories, trying to think if he had sprayed it and not remembered, before he realised Eddie had probably stolen some, sprinkling it over his skin before he went out.

The thought made some deep desire lick through his veins. Eddie would be out kissing strangers, maybe more if he was feeling up to it, but he’d be out there with Steve’s smell on him. 

Like a claim of ownership.

He wasn’t sure he liked that it made him feel that way. 

Eddie didn’t know it made him feel that way.

But why had he done it? He had his own smell that he wore all the time, why switch it up now?

It confused the shit out of him. It made no sense. 

Adding onto the smell of hairspray that was also still lingering in the bathroom along with it, he’d smell exactly like Steve.

While out there, kissing strangers.

Steve would be on him like a brand.

He needed a cold shower. 

This time around, Steve was still awake when Eddie stumbled in through the door, his gangly limbs seemingly unable to keep him moving in a straight line as he hung off the wall to swing around into the kitchen, nearly sending himself flying into the kitchen counter.

His face broke out into a wide smile when he caught sight of Steve, his eyelids heavy with that drunken relaxation and his movements clumsy but cute.

“Stevie.” Eddie was leaning most of his weight up against the counter next to him. 

Steve just raised his eyebrows at him, continuing to stir his tea, swamped in his throw. Eddie never usually called him that unless he was teasing. 

But there was no teasing in his tone now, just… affection?

Weird.

Eddie looked like he had had a good night. He had smudged red lipstick across the corner of his mouth and down his neck, and what looked like black glittery lipstick around his collar. That was gonna be hell to get out of his white Metallica tour shirt.

“Good night?”

“Mmm.” Eddie hummed, still smiling up at him from his slumped position. 

Steve flicked his eyes over Eddie’s face again, feeling something inexplicably warm settle over him at the sight of his easy happiness. 

Rick was slowly fading further and further into the past, and thank god for that. 

“Want me to make you your tea?”

Eddie sighed, heavy and dreamy, like Steve had just offered him the world. “Oh my god, that would be amazing.”

Steve couldn’t help but grin, pulling down Eddie’s favourite Garfield mug.

“Good night?”

Eddie nodded. “I kissed eight people.”

“Eight? Impressive number.”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s smile was blinding. “Three boys, a girl, two drag queens and two others who… I think they were enbies but I didn’t really stop to ask. They were good kissers anyway.”

Steve couldn’t stop smiling back at him.

“I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“I’m having the best time, sweetheart. It feels so good to be out on the town again. No longer sitting home and thinking of-” Eddie cut himself off with a slightly choked noise, snapping his eyes away from Steve. “-things.”

“Things?” Steve hedged, not wanting to bring back up anything bad. Especially not while Eddie was so vulnerable. He wanted to keep him happy.

Eddie just shrugged. 

“Haven’t felt so good about myself in a while. Rick was such an ass face.”

Steve nodded, stirring Eddie’s tea up. “He was. He was an assface.” He slid it across the counter, meeting Eddie’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

Eddie hummed to himself again, looking down at his tea, his hands curled around the hot mug, a blush painted over his cheeks.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip, like he was physically trying to keep the words in, but it was futile because a second later he opened them to ask, “How come you stopped being a slut?”

Eddie’s face lit up red as soon as he said it and Steve was…

Steve actually felt a little delighted at the sight of it. Eddie was usually pretty good about keeping any embarrassment he felt firmly locked away whenever he was around Steve and he was borderline giddy to see Eddie so open with him, even if it was only because it was fuelled by alcohol. 

Steve decided to take pity on him, pulling his own mug up to his chest, cradling it in his hands and creating a barrier in between the two, giving Eddie a moment to breathe. 

“It wasn’t what I wanted anymore. Yeah, it can feel really good to go out and get some action without really trying but after years and years of doing just that…” He shrugged. “I dunno, it kinda just wore me down. I wanted more than that. I want a connection, I guess. I didn’t want meaningless sex anymore. I want a relationship.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “So why haven’t you started looking for one?”

Steve frowned. “I have. No one has really been right yet, you know?”

“Why not?”

Steve glanced over at him. 

Eddie still looked so confused.

He shrugged, a little bewildered. “I dunno? They just didn’t fit. They would be suspicious of my relationship with Robin, or-”

“Robin, the flaming lesbian?”

“Yeah, but apparently boys and girls just can’t be friends without something going on.” Steve rolled his eyes. “If they didn’t think Robin was only a pretend lesbian, then they’d think I was secretly in love with her.”

“I mean, you are in love with her, but like, platonically.”

“Yeah, but people don’t want to hear that, apparently.”

“Maybe you should stop dating the straights.”

“I haven’t just been dating the straights, honey.” Steve said with a little curl of his lip. “But if it’s not Robin, it’s something else. But it’s fine. It’s okay. I’m okay being single for a while. It’s helped me get to know myself.”

“But you would be open to a relationship if one came along?”

Steve glanced up at him again but Eddie wasn't looking at him. He was just staring into his tea like it was the most fascinating potion.

“Yeah. I would be.” Steve tilted his head, trying to figure out where this line of questioning was coming from. 

Eddie finally glanced back up, nodding.

“I think I would be too. But for now, kissing is good.”

Steve smiled. “Kissing is very good. I like kissing.”

“Me too.” Eddie grinned back at him and for a moment the two of them just stood there, smiling at one another through the steam of their tea, somehow, inexplicably closer than they had been. 

All at once, Steve realised who he was drifting towards. Eddie seemed to catch on at the same moment, and the two of them abruptly stepped back.

“I’m going to bed.” Eddie squeaked, turning on his heel and almost running back to his room.

Steve hid away in his own room only a second later. 

Robin just groaned to herself, pressing her fingers into her eyes. 

“If I told you a girl was acting like that with me, asking me all those questions, what would you tell me?”

“That she liked you.”

Robin looked up, her eyes weary from where she’d been pressing into them from frustration, staring at him hard.

It clicked.

“Oh.”

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut @eddielives1986 @releasethexbarakat @a-little-unsteddie @steddietogo @steddiehyperfixation @raisedbylibrarians @silver-snaffles @estrellami-1 @bookbinderbitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @marklee-blackmore

If I missed anyone for tagging please let me know! 🖤

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #pennys anniversary event #robin buckley #enemies to lovers #roommates au #roommates

[talesofesther]

I guess that's love

Wednesday Addams x Reader

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

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

Word count: 4,5k of feelings.

Masterlist

It's red. All she sees is red.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's been such a long night.

Is it still night?

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

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

"…nesday? Wednesday!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she did it anyway, didn't she?

She allowed herself to feel things.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're too still.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

"What would you call it then?"

"Investigating."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.

She doesn't.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?" You ask.

Enid doesn't know the answer.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm here.

I won't leave.

My blood will never be in your hands again.

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

I love you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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

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

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Come Back - Daniel Ricciardo

<word count - 663>

Yet again, another morning that you had to get out of bed. It may have been winter break for Daniel, but not for you. You still had to work. The sun had just barely risen as you checked the clock on your bedside table. 7:00. 

You clambered out of bed, hearing a grumble from behind you. "Baby, come back..." Daniel mumbled, patting the empty space beside him. He opened one eye to peek at you as you stood in the doorway and looked at him. 

"I've got to go," you chuckled as he rubbed his eyes, even if he was still half asleep. 

"No you don't, come back," he whined, opening his arms to you as a signal to snuggle back up with him. He had always maintained that you could quit your job and he'd pay for you to live, but you liked having a sense of independence.  

"I'll be back later," you smiled, turning to walk downstairs. Behind you, you heard the rustling of the sheets and footsteps on the wooden flooring. "Go back to bed, Daniel," you laughed, knowing he'd just come and sit in the kitchen with you and beg you not to leave. 

"No," he flatly stated, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and stopping you in your tracks. "You're not going," he said into your ear, then pressed his face into the crook of your neck as the two of you stood there. 

"I've got to go," you reiterated, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was to no avail. "Daniel, come on, love," you tried to coax him off, but he still wasn't for budging. 

"Staying in bed with me for five more minutes won't make you late," he mumbled against your neck, knowing you'd cave eventually. But you feared that if you went back to bed, you really wouldn't end up going to work. 

You sighed, leaning back against his chest. "Is that a yes?" he asked, and you could feel his triumphant smirk against your skin. 

"Yeah, it's a yes to five more minutes," you told him. Within the blink of an eye, he had picked you up bridal style and started walking you back to your bedroom. "I can walk myself, you know," you chuckled, snaking your arms around his neck. 

"Why should you walk when I can carry you? Besides, I like having you in my arms," he plainly stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You just shook your head, thinking that you probably should have guessed that that would be his answer. 

Gently placing you back down in bed, he wasted no time with crawling in beside you and pulling you as close to him as he possibly could. He tugged the covers over the two of you, and instantly felt much more content and calm. 

"Your five minutes has begun," you told him, and he just grunted in response. That basically meant he hadn't listened to a word you said. Well, he had selective hearing at times, and now was one of them. He would simply choose to ignore your countdown. 

The feeling of having him right there next to you was wonderful, and you couldn't think of anything that would make you more comfortable. It was the feeling of pure safety, contentment, the feeling of home. 

You shuffled to reach for your phone on the bedside table. "No, it's barely been a minute," he scolded, tugging you back.

"I'm calling in sick," you told him, and his arms loosened around you, but he still kept his hands on your waist. 

"That's my girl," he smiled, glad that his plans had worked. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew he'd get you to stay home with him one way or another. Now, you'd get to spend the rest of your day, lounging around with the man you loved, and you wouldn't have it any other way. 

A/N - I have finished Reckless Driving, What A Shame Part 2 (a request), two more Lando things, one Charles thing and a... Wait for it... Charlos thing. I couldn't help myself. I've been doing this thing over the past few weeks where I've just written little bits when I have time, and it's wracked up into all this being finished. But recently, my down time hasn't been watching TV or whatever, it's been writing. Henceforth, you've seen a little more from me. This is just a short little thing I felt like whipping up, so hope you enjoyed. Requests are open as usual.

Also, can we just appreciate the beauty of this beige mum looking ass header? I can't lie, I kinda love it. Not quite as good as the one I did for Watch Your Mouth, in my opinion, but it's still pretty nice. Anyway, love you lots, have a brilliant day/night, and stay safe 💖

|masterlist|

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 x you #f1 x y/n #fluff #formula 1 x y/n #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagines #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo #dr3 x reader #dr3 x y/n #dr3 x you #dr3 imagines #dr3 fluff

[ev3rgreenxtrees]

Violent Love

-M.S

Synopsis: Matt and you have been friends since kindergarten, but when his youtube career flew off, so did he. He moved to LA with his brothers, and when he came back to Boston for a visit, it doesn’t end in the most pleasant way.

Warnings: Foul language, Stalking, Murder, Phsyco!Matt

This story is NOT for the faint of heart. Its also really fucking long. like REALLY long.

“Teddy bear, you were my teddy bear

You were comforting and quiet

How did love become so violent?

Oh, teddy bear, you were my teddy bear

Everything was so sweet until you tried to kill me”

As you laid down alone in bed, you heard a faint knock on your door. You automatically assumed it was Matt, your childhood best friend.

Best friend. He was like a very overprotective big brother to you. When you had issues with people, Matt had no issue starting a physical fight. Unlike how most people would just say, ‘talk it out’ or even have a talk with them, Matt would immediately start a fight. He’d beat the shit out of them, until they were sobbing and rapidly apologizing.

You hated that Matt did this, but it also gave you a sense of security. Protection.

He always held you close to him as you two cuddled in his bed, watching whatever movie you wanted, while scarfing down popcorn. Matt was everything you needed.

He was there for you, and he always had been. Until he wasn’t.

He had a youtube career, with his brothers, Chris and Nick. You loved them, too, but not nearly as much as Matt. You were more than overjoyed when the boys’ youtube career took off, but the three decided it would be best to move to L.A. Simply because there were ‘more influencers’ there, making ‘easier content’.

Matt tried to get you to come with, even offering you a room in their house, but you declined. You were of course sad to see him leave, but you always felt you were holding him back. You would miss him, but you felt it was best. Besides, he said he’d take trips back to Boston often to visit you.

The longer you two stayed apart, the more you slightly drifted apart. You still talked, but you didn’t feel as close as you used to. So, when Matt told you he’d be coming back to Boston, you immediately invited him over.

And now he was here.

You threw yourself out of bed, quickly making your way to the door of your empty home, opening it quickly to see Matt standing there alone, a bouquet of roses in hand.

“Matt! I missed you so much! I haven’t seen you in forever!” You gasped, throwing yourself into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him to catch you and hold you.

“I missed you too, Y/N,” He shook his head and chuckled, before slowly setting you down. “Here.. I got you these,” He says slowly, handing you the roses that were held tightly in his hand.

“Awe, Matt, you didn’t have to,” You gushed.

“I know, I just missed you so much.” He shook his head, and you backed up, allowing him a clear entrance to your house. You nodded, and he let himself inside.

“Nice house,” He smiled, as you followed him inside.

“Yeah.. It’s okay. Kinda out in the middle of nowhere though.” You shrugged, and he nodded. “Come to my room! We can watch a movie and talk. Like old times!” You suggested, and he nodded.

He followed you closely as you zoomed down the halls, eventually making it to your room.

“Sorry its messy,” You apologized, and Matt scoffed.

“Y/N, we literally made messes in each others rooms when we were younger what are you on?” He gently shoved you out of the way, throwing himself on your bed.

“C’mere,” He waved you over, holding his arms open for you, and you quickly threw yourself into him.

Just like old times.

You wrapped tightly around him, as his arms snaked around your waist.

“If you squeeze any tighter my eyes might pop out of my head,” Matt laughed, and you loosened your grip.

“Sorry, I just missed you soooo much!” You giggled, and Matt placed a kiss on your forehead, causing you to shoot up.

“I totally forgot to tell you, but I got a boyfriend!” You smiled brightly.

You got a boyfriend about two months after Matt left. Your boyfriend cared for you, of course, but not as much as Matt did.

Matt’s eyebrows furrowed, and he slowly sat up, and you tilted your head.

“I.. Um… I gotta go- I told my mom i’d be home for dinner,” He abruptly stood up, and you felt slightly hurt. Why was he being so… rude?

Yeah, sure, Matt was usually like this, but not to you or your family. Ever. He loves all of his family very dearly, and wouldn’t do anything they don’t want. Or deserve. Or need.

“Oh.. Okay. Text me later tonight, so we can make plans. Okay?” You asked, and Matt just nodded, before slipping into the hallway.

Later comes, and yet no text from Matt. You decided it was best to call him, and he quickly answered, but before you could speak, he did.

“What’s your boyfriends name?” He asked through the phone speaker.

“Um.. Kyle..? Kyle Spencer, why?” You reply, and you hear him sigh.

“I know him, Y/N. He was on my highschool hockey team. He’s bad news,” Matt was disappointed. You could tell.

“Matt.. You don’t know him like I do.. Trust me on this one. Please?” You pleaded, but Matt just hung up.

He never hangs up on you? Nevertheless when you were in the midst of a conversation. You stared at the phone with his contact showing, confused as you read the big bold letters saying ‘Call Ended.’

You debated on calling him again, and decided too. He was acting weird. You laid silently, awaiting to hear his sweet voice, but to no avail, you hear a loud beep, and his voicemail.

You let out a frustrated groan, before sitting up and calling one of his brothers. Due to alphabetical order, Chris’ contact was the first one you saw. The phone rang, but unlike his brother, Chris answered.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s up?” Chris chimes through the phone, his voice loud and cheerful.

“Hey, Chris! Is Matt around you?” You asked curiously, but the boy hummed.

“Umm, no.. He just left, actually. Sorry. Did you have plans with him?” Chris replied, and you let out an annoyed sigh. Who was Matt so adamant about meeting up with?

“No, not really. I’m just bored, I was gonna ask him to come over but he wont answer his damn phone.” You growl, causing Chris to chuckle.

“Me and Nick can come over if ya want, we don’t have any plans,” Chris offered, and you smiled at the thought of seeing them again.

“Yeah! I’d love that. I’ll send you my address.” You beamed with joy, and Chris hummed again.

“Cya soon!” He spoke before hanging up.

At least you wouldn’t have to be alone tonight.

Around twenty minutes later, you hear a knock on your door, and since it must be Nick and Chris, you practically throw yourself out of bed.

You rush down the hall, and throw the front door of the house open, and saw two of the same faced people standing aimlessly at your door.

“Y/N!” They both exclaimed, as you quickly pulled both of them into a hug. The three of you greeted each other, before you pulled them into your house, leading them to your living room.

They both plopped down on your couch, and you tossed the remote in-between them.

“Put on something to watch, I’m gonna go make some popcorn,” You told them and they both nodded. You heard them quietly speaking to each other as you rummaged through your cabinets, searching for some popcorn.

You finally found a bag, and tossed it in the microwave. As you waited for the popcorn to be done, you pulled your phone out of your pocket, and saw many messages and missed calls from Matt.

Odd. He just hung up on you a while ago, and left your house on a excuse, but now he wants to talk? You decided to open the messages anyways, if he wanted to be a dick you could just simply leave him on read, and thats exactly what you were going to do.

The messages read, ‘sorry i was really busy with something my dad needed help after dinner, can i come over?’ five minutes after that one, he sent another one. ‘hey? y/n im sorry i didnt mean to leave like that.’ Another five minutes passed. ‘Y/n. i know youre getting my messages please at least reply with a no or smt.’ You sighed, and slid your phone back into your pocket, not bothering to reply.

You carefully grabbed the hot bag of popcorn out of the microwave, and headed back to Nick and Chris. The two had turned on Edward Scissorhands, your favorite movie to watch together. You gasped, as you rushed over to the boys sitting comfortably on your couch.

You threw yourself against Chris, as you had done to Matt earlier, and Chris had quickly pulled you into him and adjusted himself, just as Matt had done hours before.

You couldn’t deny, you terribly missed Matt and did want him to come back, but you didn’t want any trouble. He was already acting off today, maybe he just needed rest. If you ignored him, maybe he’d give up and sleep.

You cuddled into Chris, as all three of you shoved popcorn down your throats and payed close attention to the movie. You missed doing this when you were younger.

You missed Matt.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket again, and saw more messages from Matt.

‘Y/n. Is he over? is that why youre ignoring me? i told you hes an asshole. he doesnt deserve you. hes just a whore that wants in your pants. youre better than that.’ You scoffed as you read the message. Who does Matt think he is? Sure, he may be your best friend, but he’s in no place to call your boyfriend a whore? ‘im sorry i took it too far. can i come over please. ill make it up to you, ill cuddle with you and rub your back, we can go sit on the roof and watch the stars like we used to. please.’

That one hit hard. You missed stargazing with Matt so bad. Neither of you knew anything about stars, but thats what made it ten times better. Using your imagination as you laid your head on his warm chest. One of his arms draped around your waist, his other arm holding your hand. You missed it so much.

‘Im busy’ you typed out, and quickly sent, pushing your phone back into your pocket, not wanting to be tempted by his reply.

You felt bad for being so petty to your best friend, but you didn’t want to ‘interrupt’ him. You felt your phone buzz a few times in your pocket, and you felt Chris’ eyes on you.

“Y/N, just answer your phone.” He chuckled, and you sighed. If only it was that easy.

“Has Matt been acting odd, recently?” You questioned, as you slipped your phone out of your pocket.

“Hm.. No. Why?” Chris replied, and you sighed.

“After I told him I.. have a boyfriend, today, he just got up and left. I called him later, he asked for his name and then he just hung up. He didn’t answer any of my other calls, but now he’s spamming me and apologizing.” You grumbled, as you read the messages.

‘Y/N, ill come over regardless i have ur address’ Now this was just getting weird. He was always sweet and caring, not forceful. ‘Y/N, cmon. im sorry. please let me come over. ill make it up to you.’ You contemplated on how to reply, before you just held your phone up to Chris.

“See? How am I supposed to reply to this?” You ask annoyed, and Chris just snatched the phone from your hands.

You didn’t reach to take it back, you trusted him. He lifted the phone at an odd angle, before snapping a picture.

His fingers tapped gently on the screen, before he handed the phone back to you, giving his full attention to the movie.

As you examine the screen, you saw the picture he took, with you wrapped around Chris, had a caption, ‘She said shes busy.’ Chris could be petty too, sometimes. Not that you minded, of course.

Matt quickly began typing, before his message popped up on the screen, below ‘yours’. ‘What the fuck, chris?? fuck this, fuck you guys.’ You read. You didn’t mind. You felt bad, but he just needed time to debrief, you thought. This will all blow over tomorrow, and you guys can hangout and stargaze, like Matt had offered earlier.

You slid your phone back in your pocket, pulling your attention to the movie, that was now almost over. Nick and Chris now started brainstorming the second movie to watch tonight, and you giggled at the two’s bickering.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, before you pulled it out. You saw your boyfriends contact flash across the screen, and your eyebrows furrowed. You didn’t mind that he was calling you, but he said he wouldn’t bother you much, knowing you’ll have people over. He usually sticks to this.

You slowly stood up, and held up your index finger at the two boys as you accepted the call, indicating you’d be back in a moment. You walked off down the hall, as you pulled your phone up to your ear.

“Hey, baby!” You spoke loudly; making sure he could hear.

No reply. Nothing at all. No background noise, no voices, no reply. Maybe something had gone wrong with one of their phones?

“Baby?” You called again, and this time you heard something. Something unusual. As you turned your volume up, and held the phone speaker closer to your ear, you heard a ragged breathing.

Nothing you’d say was.. bad, more like someone just took a mile run and was trying to catch their breath. But no words.

“Um.. Hello?” You paused, but the breathing didn’t stop. “Kyle? Are you there?” No reply. You now began to worry. Kyle hadn’t done anything like this before. He was a very respectful guy. He knew something like this would scare you and push your boundaries.

You crept back into the living room, with Nick and Chris. You put the phone on speaker, and grabbed your remote, muting the T.V. Both boys understood, as they intently listened to the phone. The breathing only continued for about fifteen more seconds, before you heard the loud sound of the dial tone, making you slightly jump.

“Did you guys hear that?” You ask, and they both nod.

“Yeah, the weird ass fuckin’ breathing? Yeah I heard it. Whoever the fuck breathing that loud might need an inhaler,” Nick joked, but your facial expression stayed the same. Worried. Scared, even.

“Nick, this isn’t funny..” You sigh worriedly, before tossing your phone onto the couch.

“Sorry, sorry.. What even was that about?” Nick asked, and you shook your head.

“I.. I don’t even know. It was Kyle, my boyfriend. He told me he wouldn’t call, since he knew I had friends over, unless it was urgent. He called, I answered, but he didn’t say anything.. All I could hear was that breathing..” You groan as you sit back down on the couch, next to Chris. “He’s probably fine.. I’m just overreacting. Did you guys pick a movie?” You asked, trying to advert your mind from the topic.

“Yeah, if Spongebob is okay,” Chris giggled, and you nodded. As Nick looked for the movie, you so badly wanted to pull out your phone, make sure your boyfriend was okay, and tell Matt to come over, but you knew you should refrain.

You didn’t want to be too pushy. You had already been told by people that you worry too much, and you figured they were right. Plus, it’s not like Matt would do anything.

The further you got into the movie, you felt more and more unease, which is the complete opposite of what you wanted to happen. The compete opposite of what was supposed to happen.

You began to feel paranoid, feeling like someone was watching you. You kept pushing it off as Chris or Nick, but maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to who was watching you.

You finally finished the movie, your mind still racing with nerve-racking thoughts. What if your boyfriend was hurt? What if Matt was hurt? What if Matt wasn’t going to forgive you? What if.. No. Enough with the what if’s.

“I think i’m gonna go to sleep, now. You guys should stay. I don’t want you going home this late.. You recently got your license and its pitch black outside. You’d probably hit a deer.” You joked, but both boys agreed. Nick called the couch, and Chris called the spare bedroom, knowing Nick would end up sleeping in the spare room anyways.

You headed to your room, and started feeling slightly better. Slightly less like someone was watching your every move. Maybe it was just Nick or Chris, and since they weren’t around now, the feeling wasn’t either.

You quickly changed into your pajamas, just a black cropped top, and red and black plaid pj pants. You threw your hair into a messy bun, before flopping down on your comfortable bed.

You picked up your phone, and saw there were no missed calls or texts. Maybe everything was fine. Maybe you were just overreacting. Or possibly, you weren’t.

You pulled up your texts with Matt, and typed out a smaller message to send him.

‘hey. im sorry if i was being petty earlier, you were just kinda making me upset, yk? id love to hangout sometime tmrw if your not busy? i do miss you matt.’ You meant it all, so you sent it. You’d hope he’d forgive you and move on, even if there wasn’t much to forgive.

You laid in your bed, complete silence filling the air around you, allowing you to fall deep into thought. Perhaps too deep.

You awoke to a loud ringing from your phone, which was laying next to your head. You yawned, before reaching over to grab it and read it, only to find out it was Kyle, who was once again calling you.

It was three in the morning. Kyle had a very strict sleep schedule, he was asleep by now. You quickly answered, no doubt in your mind now that something was wrong.

The same thing that happened the first time happened. Just the same heavy breathing, but no speaking. No speaking at all.

You hung up this time, and you remembered you have Kyle’s location on your phone. You didn’t have it because you ‘didn’t trust him’, it was just a fun Life 360 group of him, you, and some of your other friends.

When the screen finally loaded, you squinted at the sight. Why was he here? At your house? At three in the fucking morning.

Your heart began to beat faster, and you wanted to cry. What was going on? Matt acting weird, Kyle.. heavy breathing, harsh paranoia, and now your boyfriend in your house, and three fucking A.M, with no explanation?

You wanted to go look for him, or at least warn Chris and Nick. Well, not warn. Warn was a stretch, there was nothing to be afraid of. So, why were you so scared? As much as you wanted to get up, your body wouldn’t let yourself.

You felt trapped to your bed, as if it was a pit of quicksand. You realized that you have your phone on you. You could call 911, but whats the use? They’re going to show up, check the house, find nothing, and everyone thinks you’re crazy.

You could at least text Chris and Nick, though, and just prey they have their phones on silent. Why were you so scared of your own boyfriend? He’s never done anything to frighten you or harm you, so you weren’t sure why you were this on edge.

You reached for your phone, before you heard a small shuffle by your door, and your heart dropped. Someone was inside. Someone was inside your home.

You froze, you couldn’t move. You began to shake slightly, your throat going dry immediately. Another decision hit you.

Do you stay quiet, or do you call out? Regardless; whoever it was had Kyle’s phone, and they were in your house. This was targeted, and they knew you were there. This was all planned out.

“Kyle?” You called out, your voice just slightly above a mere whisper. Your doorknob turned; and your heartbeat went from extremely slow, to one-hundred miles per hour. You felt your throat tighten, and your eyes begin to fill with water. Fuck, you can’t break down now. Not now, out of all times.

“My love, there’s no need to be scared. I’m here. I’ll protect you.” Matt.

You could tell from his fucking voice. It was Matthew.

“Matt, oh my fucking god. That wasn’t funny. I almost fucking cried..” You began to trail off at the end of your sentence, as Matt came into view. His blood stained shirt and bloody hands, the rips in his shirt and pants.

Your thoughts immediately went to Kyle. Where the fuck was Kyle, and what the fuck happened with Matt.

“M-Matt, this isn’t funny. This isn’t fucking funny.. Jokes over. Matt, stop. You’re scaring me,” You stutter, as the boy began to inch closer to you, now leaning over you.

“Mh.. Well, I love you. You know that. But you loved him.. There was no other way I could win you, was there? No.. I don’t think so, either. I did the only option. Get rid of all of my opponents. And now look at me. Look at us. Alone, together. No more Kyle, just us. Yeah?” He asked sultry; pulling a bloody knife out of his waistband, dragging it softly against your neck.

Your breath was lodged in your throat, and you couldn’t breathe. What do you do in a moment like this? You can’t run, hide, call the cops, you can’t do anything. You’re helpless, and Matt knows this.

“M-Matt- please, please don’t- don’t hurt me,” You plea, tears begin streaming down your face, as you fight back your sobs.

“Well, You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I would’ve liked the same fucking respect I gave you, goddamnit. I gave you all my fucking love. All my time, care, everything. I gave you fucking everything. And all I get in return? Nothing. Fucking nothing. You had so much to offer.. Such a shame it has to go to waste like this, isn’t it?” He pressed harder, the knife threatening to cut through skin.

Just the smallest movement, and you’d be gone.

“Tell me how the stars are up there.” Matt speaks, a single tear rolls down his cheek, as he quickly rips his arm sideways, slicing the knife.

And just like that, love can turn to violence.

“I threw you out, I didn't outgrow you

I just didn't know you

But now you're back

And it's so terrifying how you paralyze me

Now you're showing up inside my home

Breathing deep into the phone

I'm so unprepared, I'm fucking scared.”

@bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fanfic #christopher sturniolo #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #angst

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (9) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

5.1k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, lots of violence/death/blood, like a lot of it, it's the hunger games, mentions of starvation and dehydration, injuries, mental illness, self loathing, casual dominance, savior complex Finnick, codependent relationship, reader has trauma relating to being too cold especially being cold + cold water we'll get into it eventually like next chapter, terms of endearment, nudity in a non sexual way, unedited, no use of y/n, Finnick washes readers hair

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You woke up too early, there was too much time for your thoughts to run on top of the fact that you'd barely slept at all. Mind full of reminders of the last time you'd been in the arena, how cruel fate was. At least you were still with Finnick, the protection of his arms, surrounded by his love, and you snuggled further into his grasp. Desperate to savor every speck of his being, of the moment before it could be taken away from you. You forced your eyes back shut, who knew how much sleep would be available in the arena, being well-rested could be an advantage. It didn't hit you until you sniffled that you were crying, it felt pathetic, how often you cried.

“I know you're awake." His voice didn't startle you, simply made you intertwine your legs with his even further.

“Don't wanna be." You buried your face in the crook of his neck, somehow even if there was no ocean he'd been swimming in for so long, his scent was still that of saltwater. It comforted you, like the smell of your home when the windows opened in the morning.

“I know, sweet girl." He nodded, arms having wrapped themselves tighter around you. An unspoken fear that if either of you let go it would be the last time. Tears peppered his neck and you already felt like it was lulling you back to sleep.

You weren't sure when your exhausted self had fallen asleep like that, but the next thing you remembered was Finnick softly whispering your name, announcing it was time. You kept your eyes shut and shook your head which broke his heart. Part of your brain reminded you that you volunteered for this, you could have been at home sick with anxiety, but instead you chose to be here.

“Come on, sweet girl, we have too." He whispered, voice so comforting it could have made you fall right back into your sleep. He was hypnotic.

“I can't." It was true, you couldn't have willed your body to move even if you’d wanted to. Your muscles felt like they'd shut down, frozen in place. He didn't push back with an ‘I told you so’ he just began lifting you up from the bed. Your head shook as he moved, “Please, Finnick.”

"Angel, we don't have a choice.” His voice was sad, but definitive. He wiped away the residual tests and tiredness in your eyes from where he'd say you on the bed.

Staring into his soothing eyes helped your stiff muscles loosen somewhat, but shame had begun to take over your brain too. “I'm sorry." You muttered, your voice cracked and was still heavy with sleep.

“It's okay, don't worry about it.” He kissed your forehead, "I've got you, sweet girl, I'll take care of you.” The guilt was almost numbing your body all over again, but it all reactivated when Finnick tried to step away. Instantly grabbing his hand and whining when he'd tried to pull away. “I'm just starting the shower." He reassured, but you didn't let go. So he sighed before resigning himself to it and just picking you up to come with him. He started the shower and put you down.

Maybe it had all finally hit you, the fact that your impending death meant you'd never have these moments with him again, but you felt completely robotic. Your arms felt heavy and you felt lonely the moment he was no longer touching you. Your fingers fumbled as you tried to get undressed in your stupor, but Finnick’s warm hands overtook your own.

“Don't worry about it, angel, I told you I’ll take care of you." You nodded dumbly as he began helping you undress. You'd spent so much time recently trying to prove you could do this you'd forgotten how nice it was to just let him take control, let him take care of you. As he helped you into the shower the warm water made you more tired which he could tell, “I'm going to have to make the water cold to help wake you up, sweet girl, just for a little bit."

You'd mumbled something incoherently probably trying to argue, but you couldn't, you needed your head in the game today. Finnick gave you a second before turning the temperature over to cold, you weren't standing directly in the water, so the residual sprays of water misted your body making you shiver. He cupped his hands under the water, collecting some of it.

“Tilt your head back for me, angel, got to wake you up." You did so and closed your eyes as the icy water hit your face. Although you'd never admit it to him, the water itself wasn't what really was waking you up, well it was in a way. The cold instantly put you back into the arena, the way you'd all been dripping and shaking in the freezing rain for days on end. “You okay?"

You nodded, “Yeah, thank you."

“Awake enough that I can turn the water back?" He smiled softly at you as your hands moved up and down your arms trying to create heat.

“Yes, please." You were grateful when he did, making it burning hot like you preferred. It all made you miss your home in District 4 where it was usually warm outside and the water reflected that, or every time it was cool it was combined with heat. So rarely did the weather and water coincide to be bitingly cold in those cases you just refused to leave the house much to Finnick's chagrin.

He led you into the stream of water, its full heat covering you as he wet your hair. When he was fully satisfied he took his time washing it, hands massaging your scalp. “You know hot water is bad for your hair." He whispered as he washed some fancy shampoo out of it.

“I don't care and don't even think about it." You gave a warning look to him, he had a teasing look in his eyes.

“How am I supposed to let the woman I love damage her hair like this when I'm taking care of her?"

“I'll get out."

“Well we wouldn't want that." You felt so peaceful while he continued washing your hair by the time he was completely finished you felt less robotic and more malleable. Finnick began scrubbing your body clean, who knew how long until you'd be able to do that again, if ever. You soaked up every moment in fear that it could be the last time you went through this routine. He made sure you were sufficiently soapy before rinsing you off and moving onto your face. You didn't even know the names of the various Capitol products, but he did it all with ease. It almost felt unnecessary, the size of your pores didn't matter when you were fighting for your life, but you let him continue. It was calming, made you feel loved, cared for.

“Thank you, Finnick." You said when he finished, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He nodded, “Go dry off, angel, I'll be out soon."

“Don't wanna leave you." Your arms wrapped around him once again as you shook your head.

He kissed the top of your head, “Okay, angel, just stand right there and look pretty.” You took a couple of steps back as he washed himself off too, far enough to avoid most of the residual water spray when he turned the water back to cold as he cleaned his face and hair. Soon enough he was shutting off the shower head and grabbing two towels. He grabbed your hand, helping you out of the shower. “I got this too, my love."

He tied his towel around his waist before he began to dry you off. You were easy to move as he dried your hair as much as he could before sitting you down on the edge of the tub to brush your teeth. It gave you flashbacks, once upon a time you'd been sat here in this exact bathroom, in the same position as he did the same thing for you. It solidified in your mind how you wouldn't be able to live without him, he knew what you needed more than you did. Maybe because he'd dealt with it all himself and no one to do it for him, but he was always there to force you out of bed, take care of yourself, make you eat a meal, go outside, and endless other things that could have slipped your mind in favor of endless sleep. When he was done with your teeth he once again helped you up to spit on the sink and let you lean into his side as he began brushing his own.

“Let's go get you dressed." Without a word he picked you up the moment he was done brushing and brought you back to the room. The clothes didn't matter much when soon enough Cambrie would have you dressed to enter the arena, but you let him dress you in whatever he picked. Once you were both dressed, be kneeled down at the edge of the bed. “How hungry are you?"

"Not really.” But you knew you'd have to eat, the possibility it could be days until you found food again wasn't slim.

"Come on, we're going to have to try to get something in you.” He went to pick you up again.

"You're really sweet, but I can walk.”

"Preserving your energy, angel.” He smirked and held you regardless to bring you out to the table. His chair pulled up right next to yours as he got you a little bit of everything, anything that could keep you full enough for a while in the arena. You ate slowly in a comfortable silence, savoring the food that you might never taste again. In your heart you knew it was the anxiety keeping you from hunger, but you pushed on out of the larger fear of starvation in the Games.

“Good job, angel." He said softly, at first you didn't know why, but then it hit you that he needed you to be properly nourished as a sign you cared about survival. He picked up a peach from a basket on the table and handed it to you which you accepted gratefully.

You'd only relish in its sweetness for a few bites before your designers entered the room.

“It's time to go." Cambrie already sounded weepy, but that wasn't why your heart stopped. Finnick grabbed your hands intently.

“You come find me right away and I'll find you. If anything happens, you scream for me and I'll follow your voice. Don't go trying to save anyone. Please, promise me that." He said soberly, eyes boring into yours to ensure you were fully committed.

"I promise, Finnick." He nodded slowly before wrapping his arms around yours and you melted as his arms got tighter, like he didn't want to let go. He reluctantly pulled away as the two of you stood, leaving the peach on the table. You grabbed his face, kissing him as deeply as you could and he instantly did the same. “I'll see you soon." You mumbled breathlessly.

“I love you so much, you deserve to live, remember that."

"I love you, Finnick.” He kissed you again before you both were forced to get on with it, to enter the arena where the unknown and uncertain lie.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the platform began to rise, taking one last look at your stylist Cambrie who gave you a sickly sweet smile, she was convinced you would win and talked non-stop about all the benefits she would get if you did. But as the sky came into view you weren't so sure, different advice Finnick had given echoed in your head. How you needed to make your allies trust you, allow your instincts to take over, not freeze, stay logical, be wary of the environment around you, and about feeling guilty later.

Wind hit your face as you rose from the ground, quickly taking note of the environment. There was no sun out, it was cloudy, the ground was extremely muddy where the grasses were, but large chunks of dirty water made up different portions of the area surrounding the Cornucopia. You tilted your head to the side where you could see certain areas had trees, none of which were very green. It was mainly a marshland you concluded with some swamps dispersed throughout. Backpacks of supplies and different weapons lay scattered around the Cornucopia where most of the bounty lay, your allies had already agreed to go for it first thing. Not to hesitate when the gong ran out and to protect each other if someone else tried to attack. You couldn't see Conway from where you stood, but Marlowe wasn't far away on your left, staring intently forward and Birch to your right was looking around like you were. Meeting eyes for a second he just nodded his head.

It felt like the longest minute of your life, but soon enough the last few seconds were on the clock and the adrenaline in your body preparing you to spring forward. There it was, the resounding gong, and you jumped forward. Eyes searching for the closest weapon to defend yourself with. There they were, glistening with water, a few small knives and you lunged for them.

Right as your hands grasped them someone tackled you from behind. You felt your ear wet with mud as you turned over under the body on top of you, slashing your knife into whatever was above you, whatever had hands trying to grasp around your neck. Something warm hit your face as the hands went limp. You wiped your eyes with one hand to see a girl, you were pretty sure she was from District 8 above you. You pulled the blade out, pushing her off of you before scrambling off the ground, grabbing the remainder of the knives. There wasn't time to feel bad, you needed to get to the Cornucopia.

The boy from District 10? 12? Everything was too blurry, you just needed to survive, to get to everyone else. The boy caught your eye, he had a machete and before he could even come towards you with it, one of the knives flew out of your hand straight into his skull. He fell backwards and your brain told you to grab the weapons, keep going. Some small voice told you to stop, how messed up this all was, but your instincts said otherwise.

You finally saw Conway, pulling a spear out of the girl from District 3 you were pretty sure. Suddenly Marlowe was in your view too, picking up a backpack.

“Here!" You heard your own voice, but it didn't feel real and tossed the machete to her which she grabbed with ease.

“Thanks." She said quickly, and then Birch came out of the Cornucopia, bloody hatchet in hand. He had a backpack on and was holding two other ones. Throwing one to you and then Conway.

“We should fill them with what we can find before we clear out.” He said gruffly and you all nodded. You decided to grab an extra backpack as you all walked towards the Cornucopia, grabbing small weapons on the way to fill the bags. Conway and Birch went deeper inside as you and Marlowe looked around, keeping defense.

Thinking about Districts didn't even matter anymore, you could take stock later, one of the boys came at Marlowe with a sickle. You threw a knife into his chest, he took a step back, giving Marlowe enough time to thrust the machete through him. She pulled it out and grabbed the knife for you too, tossing it at you with a nod.

“I think we've got what we need." Conway's voice filled the crisp air. You dumped one of the backpacks contents into the other one, tossing the empty one on the ground before sliding the other one on. Marlowe picked up an ax before muttering something in agreement. As the four of you exited the Career pack approached. The air was tense, but it didn't make you nervous. It would be four against four, there would be no point in attacking now.

All of you kept eye contact as you passed by each other, Birch giving a brisk nod that the boy from District 1, Otto you thought his name was, returned one. So you all walked into an area with more trees, leaving the other pack to whatever was left behind in the Cornucopia.

“Do you think the water’s safe to drink?" Birch asked, looking around at the areas around you.

“It's muddy, it would have to be purified at least." You answered, trying to rub off the mud you could feel drying on your face.

“Who knows what could be inside it." Marlowe remarked, some sort of mutt ready to attack.

“We should sit here and see what we have, make a plan on where to camp and how to hunt." Conway pointed at a clump of rocks. Everyone agreed, it couldn't have been more than an hour yet you were all exhausted. Time was a construct here, they could make it day or night whenever they pleased.

Conway had two spears, a mace, a net, a water bottle, a plastic cover for rain, and some sort of bug spray.

“Oh my god, there's going to be some sort of poisonous bug." Marlowe shook her head.

“Maybe we'll get some more, we'll all share and use it sparingly." Conway said, filling the bag back up. When Birch opened his, you realized the bags weren't the same. You'd expected them too, but there were variations.

“Let's see we've got a hatchet, a sword, a serrated chain, a box of matches, this super small bottle of iodine, a tarp, and a random coil of wire, which I don't think is useful to any of us. Good thing we grabbed more than one bag." He remarked, leaning back on the rock.

Marlowe emptied out hers putting her axe and machete to one side, “A sickle, an empty bottle of water, more bug spray, thankfully, another plastic cover for rain, and these weird glasses.” She played with them in her hands.

“They're for seeing in the dark." You said, hand burrowing in the moss on the rock. “Um I've the throwing knives, a dagger, dried fruit, another bottle of iodine, and an empty bottle of water-” You internally thanked yourself for grabbing two, "Rope, more matches, a compass, and this metal bowl."

Conway nodded, “If we come across any more backpacks we should take them too." What he really meant was if you came across someone to kill them and take their things, but he didn't dare state it aloud.

“We should set up some snares, we can start a fire on the rock, so get some firewood, and fill the water bottles we do have." Marlowe stood up, axe in hand.

“What if someone sees the smoke?" Birch asked, sliding a bit as he stood.

“Then there's four of us and one of them, the Careers won't attack us, not yet. We can use the wire for fish-hooks, see if there's any to catch. I'll make a fishing rod and we can use the net." You filled the bag back up and stood on the muddy ground.

Birch nodded, “Good thinking." He smiled, he had the type of smile that was so infectious it made the most mournful times somewhat happier.

“Let's put on some of the spray first." Conway pulled out the bottle, shaking it. Trying to use it sparsely, save it as long as possible. All of you stayed nearby, but still split for your tasks. You made some rods with stray branches, cut off some of the rope, and wire. Setting them into the mud, if there were some fish you'd set up the net wherever you camped for future meals. Conway had begun filling up the bottles you had and putting in the iodine to purify what you did have. Birch had decided he would set up some snares and borrowed your dagger in case there was something he could kill before it even hit the snares.

Marlowe got done with the firewood the quickest, saying how back in District 7 there were punishments if quotas weren't filled fast enough so she'd been forced to learn how fast she could chop wood since she was a child.

“Caught anything?" She asked, setting down the wood on a tarp to keep it dry.

You shook your head, “No, I'm too worried about whatever poisonous bugs might be here to dig for worms. If Birch catches anything I'll use part of it for bait, I might just throw the net in though."

"Here I found some crickets.” Conway came over, hands cupped.

"Are we sure they're not poisonous?” Marlowe asked as she began setting up the fire.

"Looks like plain old crickets to me.” Conway laughed, grabbing on the rods to stick them on the hooks. Slowly, but surely the fish began coming in. “I'll skin and you keep catching?" He asked, squeezing your shoulder.

You smiled up at him, “Sounds good to me." Marlowe had a fire started the moment everyone was ready, hours had passed by the time you'd caught a good enough share, skinned them, began to cook them, and Birch returned with some rabbits.

“We should eat here and then move to find a different camp before the sun goes down." Marlowe was helping Birch with the rabbits while you cleaned off the knives being used for each thing. You'd eaten much better than you'd expected too, trout and rabbit, plus having water. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you started. Immediately you began packing up camp, Conway filled up and purified the water bottles again before you all started trekking again. The temperature began to drop and the jacket stopped doing as much as it had been doing before, you all finally stopped at an area with more dense greenery and trees. Laying out the tarps and plastic covers to try for some warmth.

Then there the light was in the sky, time to find out which tributes were dead. Both tributes from District 3, the girl to Conway. You thought of that poor 13 year old boy's family watching their baby die and silently prayed he'd gone quick. No one from 1,2, or 4 which was unsurprising. Birch had killed the boy from 5 and the boy from 6 is the one who'd tried coming at you and Marlowe. That was the female tributes from 5 and 6 still alive plus both District 7 tributes, since they were both with you. The girl from 8 was you, but the male tribute was also dead, probably from one of the Career’s. Both from 9 were dead, both from 10 probably even more from the Careers. 11 was still alive, but you were right about thinking the boy who was going to attack you was from 12, his district partner survived though. 13 tributes left, 11 dead in one day.

Everyone was quiet, solemn. “I'll take first watch." Your shaky voice cut through the night air, after the silence had almost become unbearable.

“Me too." Conway's arms were around your shoulders, he wasn't particularly warm, but it was better than sitting alone. Birch and Marlowe agreed, laying down to get some sleep. You stared at the night sky, there were very few stars in the sky even if you knew they were artificial, it made you even more upset. Nothing would beat the feeling of you and Finnick sitting on the beach at night, staring at the stars over the glistening water as his warmth surrounded you like some sort of shield.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“I'm just going to miss you so much!" Cambrie was bawling onto your shoulder. The Capitol woman who's whole life was ahead of her was crying to you, the one about to be sent to a battle of the death. “I'm going to dedicate a whole fashion line to you, it'll be such a hit." She meant well, she really did and that's what you reminded yourself.

“Including the wedding dress?" If anything it made you want to cry more thinking about how this poor, misguided woman still cared about you so much.

“Oh yes. With a train like you're walking on water and sea foam." She pulled away to blow her nose. “You just have to come back, gorgeous, I'll literally die without you." Ironic. “Maybe they'll be a hologram or something, won't be as good as the real thing, but you're my muse." The sickening part was definitely back, but she raised to be shallow so she was. A voice echoed around the room indicating your need to get on the platform. You hugged her one last time and she kissed you on the cheek, probably leaving trails of pink glitter but at least it was a proper goodbye.

“Thank you, Cambrie. I couldn't have asked for a better designer." You walked over to the platform that closed around you, giving her a soft smile as he waved a goodbye, tears streaking down her slightly purple tinted skin.

Your foot tapped nervously on the platform and you hoped that at the very least it wouldn't be a cold arena. You began moving up, sun, you could see sunlight, that was good, at least you'd have sunshine. The smell of salt air hit your nostrils and it shocked you, a smell you were pretty sure would be left at home was right here. If you died, you'd die knowing that wasn't the last time you were one with the salty waters. When you were finally all the way up you looked around anxiously, it was water, clear, seawater you had to swim to get to the Cornucopia or the rows of rocks that you could walk on. Jungle was on the other side of the beaches, but there were beaches that felt almost too good to be true, like it was perfect for District 4. The sun cut in the way of your vision making it nearly impossible to make out faces, but you couldn't find Finnick. You took some deep breaths, preparing to dive the moment the gong rang out. He'd go straight to the Cornucopia and try to find Katniss so you'd do the same.

The instant the gong let out you'd dived in, having eyed the nearest part of land so you could try and make the quickest swim there. It didn't take long and you were hoisting yourself on the rocks. Running forwards to the shiny structure where he had to be. A hand from the side grabbed your leg and you tried to kick it off, “Finnick!" You shouted as the person attached to the hand emerged from the side of the rocks, pulling you down. He was from District 9, a lot older, but he was still much stronger. Brute strength had never been on yours side, but you could tell it was on his. “Finnick, Finnick!" You screamed, trying to kick the man off of his. His hands grabbed your shoulders harshly before punishing them back, head roughly hitting the rocks. It was dizzying, your head felt like it was literally spinning and your nose made it feel like you were drowning. Hands flew up, your vision was somewhat blurry, but last time you'd been in this position you'd taken out Conway’s eye. Even if that kept you up at night, you could do it again. “Finnick!" Scratching at the man's face seemed to be doing very little besides delaying him as he tried to bat away your hands. Then he was coughing, sputtering blood all over your face the shock he seemed to be going through gave you an opportunity to kick him off of you, his weight on you made it a struggle but the adrenaline forced you to persist. He fell flat when you did escape and then you saw the axe in his back. You looked up, Johanna was headed your way.

You wanted to say thank you, but you felt somewhat frozen, your mouth tasted like iron, and she was somewhat blurry. “He's over in the Cornucopia, with Katniss." She said, tearing her ax out of the man’s back. Her eyes found Wiress and she went to get her, mostly because according to Haymitch it was her way in with Katniss, she'd only take Johanna if she'd saved who Katniss wanted.

Your hands went to wipe your face and there was more blood on your hands then anticipated then it hit you that your nose was bleeding, the shock hadn't allowed you to initially realize, but you probably looked like a mess of free falling blood. “Finnick!" You yelled, your head ached as you kept running forward. Through the ringing that had begun in your ears you could faintly hear your name being called. You finally caught sight of him running towards you, a seemingly reluctant Katniss behind him.

“What happened?" He asked, wiping some of the blood off of your face.

“Nine, Johanna just saved my life." Your mouth felt like it was filling with the blood as you wiped your face again.

“Well, I'll have to thank her sometime." Finnick smiled even though you could tell he was still concerned, so were you, the pounding in your head still hadn't gone away. “Here." He slid three small knives into your palm, “Grabbed them when I was in there for you, angel."

“Thank you." He quickly kissed you, getting his own lips getting smeared with blood. There were no complaints as he wiped it off and turned back to Katniss.

“Peeta! Peeta!" She was looking around frantically.

“Found him! Over here!" Finnick shouted, handing you his trident as he dived into the waters where Peeta was struggling to stay afloat. Katniss ran over as Finnick brought Peeta back to the shore.

“Peeta!" She helped pull him up and you all paused a moment as he gained balance. You handed Finnick back his trident. The ebbing pain in your head was finally seeming to lessen.

“Let's head out this way." Finnick said, arm around you as he began walking forward. Gloss, Cashmere, Brutus, and Enobaria continued on with their Bloodbath as your group made its way onto the beach and into the jungle. There were no supplies waiting around this time, you supposed they weren't intending for this to be a long enough game to need a survival kit just weapons. It felt safer though, you had Finnick, warm, protective, hovering Finnick. There would be no need to imagine the times you had with him when he was right there even if the plan was dangerous enough to get you both executed regardless of what happened in the arena.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading I was so excited to write this one, but I've been pretty busy so it took me a while to get finished but I'm so glad I did. thank you all for the feedback and support, if you enjoyed it let me know comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated and my ask box is always open. 💋

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#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #thg #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x you

[emeritusemeritus]

Could I get a Weasley twins x female reader where they have an established relationship and drunk one night confesses that one of the twins is *bigger* but you don't remember which one at the moment and they offer to help you remember and then at some point in the smut of it all the twins take turns thrusting in one at a time like Fred in then George then Fred and etc...

Hi Anon! This request has made me genuinely feral and I couldn’t wait to start writing this! 🖤

Warnings: SMUT, descriptive & graphic smut, slight humiliation kink? Possessiveness, sex games, the twins compete. Competition, reader has to chose. Use of petnames.

Word count: 2.1k

You really weren't sure what had led to this very moment, memory a little blurry from the alcohol, but whatever or however you got here, you were eternally thankful that you did.

You spent the night dancing, drinking and catching up with your girlfriends in London, having a good time and letting loose. You'd gotten home safely, had something to eat upon returning back to the flat and sobered up slightly until you were joined by your boyfriends on the couch, recounting the stories you'd been told and laughing about the night. It had taken a turn just around then when you'd disclosed a certain piece of information to the twins that you usually kept close to your chest, but the drink had loosened your lips and had created the very situation you were facing.

Your clothes had been unceremoniously ripped off on route to the bedroom, as had most of your boyfriends' attire. It was a rush of kisses and touches, little spanks and a lot of manhandling which always made you aroused past the point of rationality. You'd been bent over on the bed, face pressed into the pillows as the twins surrounded you, bantering back and forth as they watched your naked figure squirm for them.

George had pulled one of his silken ties from the dresser and had tied it around your eyes into a makeshift blindfold which only prompted your other senses to become heightened, leading to you feeling desperately aroused for them both.

"Can you tell who I am?" One of them asks from your left side, his hand ghosting over your arched back and over the curve of your ass that was completely on display for him.

"Georgie," you say with a breathlessness that only came on from being so painfully ready.

"Good girl," he says, his finger slipping between your folds until he lingers around your weeping hole, teasing and torturing you as you squirm to get him to penetrate you. When his finger eventually slip inside you, it's like pure torture and sheer relief all at the same time. When his finger pulls away, you let out an exaggerated whine, feeling the loss of him beside you.

"Still can't remember who's bigger sweet girl?" A voice from behind you says, which you're almost certain is Fred.

That's exactly what got you here, like this. A slip of the tongue, an accident, in which you'd disclosed to your boyfriends that one of them was slightly 'bigger'. You knew George had a slight upwards curve to his cock and Fred was a tad wider  utnyly judt couldn't remember which of them could reach that spot deep inside you that made you breathless.

"Wanna find out?" The second voice said from your right side, which you thought was George.

"Please," you begged, not particularly caring about the game they were playing, you just wanted to be fucked, to be filled.

"Think we should get her remember mate?" One of the twins says to the other. It's almost sinful how wet this makes you, their playful banter talking about you without actually including you, like you're just a fuck toy to them.

"I reckon we need to," the other agrees, "wouldn't want our girl to forget would we?"

"Turns?" They say at the same time, apparently thinking the exact same thing as a hand creeps over the curve of your bum, watching as you squirm for attention.

"What'd'you think sweetheart? We each take a turn and you try to tell us who's bigger? And if you guess the right brother we'll let's you cum."

It feels like you're burning from the inside out, from Fred's words alone never mind the hand that was caressing your skin, across your back and over your bum.

"Please, please," you beg quietly, pleads muffled as your face presses into the pillow.

You hear a deep chuckle and you can't help but try and close your legs at the noise, desperate for some friction.

When the first twin lines themselves up with your waiting hole, you hold your breath in anticipation, too overwhelmed with the need to be filled. The first thrust has you gasping into the pillow, the semi-forceful but still delicate thrust making it impossible for you to think of anything other than the cock inside you.

"Any clues?" One of them says behind you but you can't determine who. There's no hands on you, no nicknames or whispered praises, only the feel of their rigid cock grazing your inner walls. You let out a sigh of disappointment as you felt them remove themselves from you after only that initial thrust but then gasped when you felt another cock lining up with you and this time pushing in with less hesitation.

You cried out into the pillow as they pushed in, filling you completely and holding themselves deep inside you, keeping their hips flushed with yours. Was it the other twin, a different cock? Or was it the same?

Another cry filled the air as you felt them pull out and be replaced by the other, this time you knew for definite as you felt the bed shift as someone else took their place.

Over and over you felt them thrust into you, one at a time and taking turns, feeling every inch of their perfect cocks without any resolution to the burning desire you were feeling. It was pure torture, having them right where you needed them but only for one single thrust, absolutely not what you needed from them.

"Any takers?" One of them says as they thrust into you harshly, making a gasp emit from your throat. "Who am I baby? You know my cock?"

"Or mine?" The second one says, thrusting deep as soon as his twin had retreated.

For the first time you can feel a slight hint at who it was, the second that their place a hesitant hand to your hip before quickly pulling away. Your eyes are closed as you reach a slight subspace, too consumed by the feel of them to allow any of your other senses to work properly. It's George, it had to be. The delicious curve of his cock drags across your upper walls as he sinks in to you, the ghost of a hand on your hip being the dead giveaway. George held your hip whereas Fred would have grabbed and left bruises. George liked to drag out every thrust, forcing you to feel him slowly filling you whereas Fred was often rougher, quicker in pace. George's curve served him well, pressed against that delicious spot inside of you that made you see stars whereas Fred's girth seemed to make you breathless even without needing to be in more than just his tip. But who was bigger?

"George!" You cried out, taking the chance and as soon as you called out his name, his hands fell to your hips and he began thrusting wildly into you, not pulling out or stopping as they had for what seemed like hours. You'd been right.

"But who's bigger?" He says, pulling you back just enough so that you're face is no longer pushed into the pillow.

"I- I don't know," you say weakly as you try and canter your hips to get him to fuck you again.

You cry out in frustration as George suddenly pulls out, leaving you empty and increasingly annoyed at the game they were playing .

Suddenly, Fred's whole length is shoved inside you without warning, his big hands coming to grab at your hips as he fucks deep, holding you tightly in place. You automatically squirm to alleviate the pressure from deep inside you but his grip is so strong you can hardly move.

“Still don’t know, pretty girl?” You can hear the smirk in his voice even over the sound of your deep breaths, trying to steady yourself against the feeling of him so deep, so far up you’re certain he’s in your guts.

“Freddie!” You cry out, trying to get him to fuck you, “you said I could cum, I guessed right!”

“Yeah we did,” both of them say at the same time, making your walls clench around Fred’s length.

“Who’s bigger sweetheart?”

You don’t want to say, don’t want to upset either of them even though you know it’s Fred. It’s only maybe an inch, if that, and you’re sure the wider girth of his cock is making him seem even bigger but you couldn’t say, not out loud.

“You’re both-.”

You can’t even finish your sentence as he suddenly starts pounding you, taking what he wants from your little dripping hole. You cry out, head thrown back at the feeling and you feel yourself building up to an almighty climax after almost no time at all, so wound up from their torturous teasing.

“Cum sweetheart, let me feel you,” Fred says between ragged breaths as his grip doubles down on your hips. It’s rare that you can cum so effortlessly without any clit stimulation but between their game, your vulnerable and exposed position and the extended teasing, you were feeling ready to cut almost immediately.

“Freddie!Fred!” You chat as you feel yourself falling over the edge, earning a generous and ridiculously sexy moan from Fred as he feels your walls tightening around him. He cums not a second later after you ride out your peak, your fingers digging into the soft bedsheets below you, pillows smushed into your face. His cum feels blazing hot as it fills you, his roar echoing through the room as he releases everything he has deep inside you, once again keeping you as far down on his cock as you can go.

“Wanna feel who cums more?” You hear from beside you, a hand stroking over your spine as you turn your head weakly to look at George who’s smirking at you, cock still hard.

You nod pathetically into the soft pillow, letting out a whine as you feel Fred pull out of you.

“Roll over Angel, want to see your beautiful face.”

He helps you shift, knees locking from being in the same position for so long. Your hair fans out against the pillows as you look up with half-lidded and tired eyes at George who climbs on top of you, smirking and with wandering eyes. He leans down and kisses over your breasts, your nipples hardening under his tongue. You cry out when his hand makes contact with your swollen and neglected clit, circling it just how he knows you like.

“You ready for me Angel?”

“Yes Georgie,” You say, eyebrows knitted together as you focus on the pleasure from his fingers, never wanting him to stop.

He pulls away only to line his cock up with your pussy as you feel him slowly sink it, drawing out that first thrust until he begins wildly thrusting into you, pulling your leg up onto his shoulder. His left hand holds your leg whilst his right hand sinks down to play with your clit again making almost inhuman noises fall from your lips. In this position he always seems to get exactly the right angle to drive you crazy, to hit all the spots that he knew Fred couldn’t.

“Not gonna last Angel, want you to cum with me.”

He begins circling just a little faster around your sensitive nub and your hips begin to buck wildly against his only thrusts, making him fuck you harder, deeper.

“Fuck!” He cries out as his hips stutter, his cup already shooting deep into you. You didn’t think you could be any fuller than you felt already but as he pours his load deep into you, fucking it deeper and deeper, you feel like you’ll explode. And you do. Your orgasm hits you like a steam train, walls wildly clenching and squeezing on their own accord as the overwhelming amount of cum trickles out of you even around George’s softening cock.

When he finally pulls out of you, he sits back on his haunches trying to catch his breath as you do the same, only lying down spread out on the bed, completely unfazed by your nudity.

Fred hops back on the bed beside you and immediately pulls you into his arms, not having bothered to re-dress during your time with George.

You’re completely sober now, at least in terms of alcohol- you feel completely cock drunk.

“What’s the verdict sweetheart?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows and you look up at him in disbelief. Even George shoots his twin a look of disbelief as he tries to catch his breath.

“Don’t know, you’ll have to try again tomorrow.”

“Best 2 out of 3?”

“Yeah.”

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #George Weasley #george weasley x reader x fred weasley #Weasley twins x you #Weasley twins x reader #Weasley twins smut #requests #request closed #anon answered

[billiedeansbitch]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

(𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary: Larissa's unable to sleep and it's up to you find a solution

a/n: wrote this one because my heart craves for something soft and smutty :'))

warning/s: NSFW. soft smut.

Most often than not, Larissa stirs awake in the middle of the night, she slowly unravels your arm around her middle and softly, ever so gently, moves to pry herself off from your embrace and off the bed. Quickly, she would tuck her pillow under your arm to give you something to cuddle with. And a kiss on your cheek before she leaves.

Tonight was no different, she gets up, tucks a pillow next to you, kisses your forehead and puts her robe on before she leaves the bedroom, tiptoeing all the way to her private study. It has always been like this since she can remember, she wakes up and never goes back to sleep no matter how exhausted her body feels. She considers booking an appointment with the new therapist in Jericho but never does.

Larissa sighs and opens her laptop. She does nothing but stare at the angry red notification of her unread emails. 

The door creaks as it is being pushed open, her gaze shifting and that’s when she finds you, standing there with a sleepy look on your face, your hair untamed, the strap of your tank top fell from your left shoulder. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” The yawn that follows makes Larissa’s lips curl, and while she feels guilty to not have been by your side, she feels incredibly warm seeing this sight in front of her. 

You walk in, shutting the door behind you, “Can’t sleep again?” you ask while settling yourself on the couch. You heard her mumble confirming that she, in fact, can’t sleep again. “Come here, love.” you told her, opening your arms and prompting her to come. 

Larissa looks vulnerable and tired, she sits down next to you but you tug her arm and motion for her to lay on top of you with her head on your chest, she refuses and grumbles about being “too big” and “too heavy” which you dismiss with a glare. Defeated, she settles on the position you told her to.

She’s tensed, from her muscles to her breathing, you know she’s holding herself back, “Let go, baby. It’s okay. You’ve been on top of me for more than one occasion and I’ve been fine. You’re not going to break me. Just let go.” 

Eventually you feel her knots loosen after a while of whispering sweet nothings as you hold her closer, your lips leaving tender kisses on top of her head. You feel her letting go. “That’s it, my love. Good job.” you place another reward on her forehead making her blush.

“I love you.” she mumbles, nestling her face to the crook of your neck and her warm, steady breathing brushes against your skin rendering your breath to halt for a second, your mind rebooting itself. “I–I love you, too.” and you feel her smirk against you.

You continue the idle work of your fingers as they run through her silken silver locks, “What’s keeping you up, sweetheart?” silence. No answer. You thought she’s gone to sleep but she shifts, pulling away from your neck. It’s my dreams… she wanted to say, but it feels foolish so she doesn’t.

She feels your thumb gliding across her cheekbone, your eyes searching her own for an answer she denied herself to say and she’s thankful that you didn’t feel the need to push and just let it be knowing that eventually she will open up to you. 

So she leans closer, brushing her lips on your lips, silently thanking you. You knew what it meant based on the smile you have once she pulls from you. “Okay.” 

“You should go and sleep.” she says, her gaze never leaving yours.

You raised a brow, “And leave you here? No. I’m not going back without you.” Larissa rolls her eyes and buries her face on your chest, grinning towards your attitude. “Fine, let’s go.” she gives up.

The bed dips with her weight, and you watch her lay on her back on her side of the bed, “I know you’re the biggest cuddler so you don’t have to pretend that you don’t want to sleep on top of me.” that made her pause, “Come here, love. I want to hold you.” hoping it can ease her to fall asleep quickly.

She can feel her heart expand from the way affection fills your voice to the fond way you look at her. There’s nothing but warmth in her chest right now as the butterflies go wild in her tummy, her head empty of her previous thoughts. Even after all these years you still have the same effect on her.

Half an hour later, Larissa’s still unable to fall asleep, shifting frequently and grunting. You can feel her growing exhausted. It’s rendering you both exhausted. “I’m sorry.” she mumbles in the dark, her breath caressing your neck, “It’s okay.” you assured her.

“Maybe there’s something else that I can do…a solution”

Larissa quirks a brow though you can’t see her, “What is it?”

“Do you trust me?” Larissa nods, “Lay on your back please.” 

Now on her back, you switched your positions. You climb on top of her, straddling her, a smile swiftly curling on her lips. She knows. 

She instinctively bit her lower lip, hand caressing your bare thigh and confidently caressing higher until they’re right under your top. “So this is your solution?” she teased, pinching your nipples.

“Yes. Now, I want you to relax, okay? This is about you.” the shapeshifter finds her arms pinned above her head, as your breath tickles her neck. “Relax, baby.” you grin to yourself noticing her nipples are hard underneath her shirt but you decide that they can wait just a little bit longer.

Your mouth crashes against her and she welcomes you with an intensity that makes you shiver, her tongue darting out to play with yours, and even that remains soft, “I love you” she breathes against you. You abandon her lips to trail kisses down her jawline, she throws her head backward, exposing her neck. You know what she’s asking for. You smile while you place one final kiss on her jaw and repeat the process down her neck, sucking a bright bruise on her pulse point before soothing it down with your tongue. “Fuck me.” she whined, her voice faltering as she spread her legs even wider, “Feel me.” she begs. 

You know it never fails to make her cunt sopping wet, her juices leaking. She feels you underneath her shorts, a smirk appearing when you realize she lacks a certain piece of fabric. She blushes hard. You tauntingly gather her wetness with your finger, spreading what’s collected around her clit. Her arousal grows thicker. “Please.” she whines, her brows furrowing and she’s staring at you with those big, beautiful eyes, asking you to plunge your fingers in her sex and just fuck her.

“No need to beg, my love.” you husked, leaving a soft kiss on her navel as you slowly crawl down her body, situating yourself in between her legs. You won’t lie that hearing her beg you makes you even wetter, there’s just something about her desperate pleas that makes your mouth go dry and your whole body burns.

“Is this okay? You good up there?” Larissa melts once more, never getting used to every time you take a moment to check up on her, “I’m fine.” 

The sweet adoring look in her eyes switched to something dark once you run the tip of your tongue from her inner thigh to her dripping cunt, spreading the pink lips apart with your thumbs to reveal more wet area and plunging in your tongue. Her moans are fueling you, challenging you to go deeper and fuck her until she’s shaking, her cum trickling down.

As you alternate between licking her hole and flicking with her clit, your hands start to wander above her hips, to her waist until you’re cupping her perfectly shaped breasts. She moans even louder, filthier, more of her juice coats your tongue. She tastes divine.

The first thrust of your fingers into her, Larissa growls at the satisfaction of being filled, of feeling you curling inside her pussy. “God, you’re so tight, baby.” and she mewls, shutting her eyes and bucking her hips to feel more. 

As you begin to fuck her, your freehand released its hold from her breast and grabbed her hand, intertwining your fingers together, your tongue wantonly licking her clit drawing more sounds from your dear girlfriend. “Ugh–yes, yes, yes–fuck, fuck me!” something about her being so vocal while getting fingered so dirty will never cease to make you smile. “I’m close, hun. Fuck me.”

You fuck her through and after her orgasm hit and her legs shake, fucks her some more with a strap, your mouth latched around one nipple while your freehand never left the other holding it for support. Larissa keeps taking it all until she’s very much spent and pushing you off. The pace falters, you stop and pull the toy from her sore cunt. She’s breathing heavily.

“Are you okay, mi amore?” Even after all the filthy things you told her while you fuck her like a whore, Larissa finds how your tone quickly shifts to being concerned and soft in no time to be fascinating. “I’m okay, just sore and tired. I think…I think I’m–”

“Shhh, know, I understand. I’ll go get cleaned up and I’ll bring you some towels to clean you. I will be back, don't move.” she sleepily hums indicating it was a job well done. You kissed her cheek before you left. 

After less than ten minutes you’re back by her side with a damp towel to clean the sticky cum and a dry one to wipe away the sweat. She mumbles something incoherent while you try to push her short up her legs, “Go to sleep, my love.” 

Once done, you laid yourself in bed and scooted closer to her, draping one arm across her waist to pull her. “Good night.” you whisper, dropping one soft kiss on her shoulder. She’s already knocked down but you feel her turn until she’s facing you, her head nestled on your shoulder. "Sweet dreams."

The next day, Larissa curses herself, her eyes widening as the clock on her side reads 12:15 pm. It’s the first time she’s slept through her 5:45 am, 6:00 am and 6:15 am alarm…

She turns to you, “This is your fault” she says, throwing a pillow on your face hoping to wipe away your grin and you only shrug, unable to mask the smile on your lips seeing the headmistress in distress as she moves around the bedroom.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems imagine #principal larissa weems #larissa weems smut #soft smut #gwendoline christie imagines

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Brave [2 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: As you begin to acclimate to life in the pack, your new leader seems to take a keen interest in your ability to survive. 

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: i really hope you guys enjoy this next piece! mind the warnings ❤️

You run your tongue across your chapped lips before reaching for the skin of water hanging from a long strap across your shoulder. The liquid inside is over-warm from the sun hanging mercilessly overhead, but you are grateful for it still. 

Where are we even going?

The river had been days ago—three, perhaps four at your best estimation—and the pack had been pushing on ever since, riding out into the grass sea further than you had ever thought possible. When you had asked, your father had told you simply that there was nothing out there, his breath stinking of ale as he reminded you to keep your mind to your housework, else he would ensure you found out for yourself. And now, for all the fates cruel humor, you had found out anyway. 

You had been spared death at the river, but the same luck that had kept you breathing now also bound you to the blue-eyed-orc and his pack. You had tried twice already to sneak away in the darkness, only to find yourself practically nose to nose with your captor, his eyes bright even in the dark.

Dangerous out there in the dark, Sweetmeat, he’d said, turning you around with one huge hand on your shoulder, tapping the flat of his blade against your backside as your cheeks flamed with hot anger and embarrassment. If you’re looking to raise an army for vengeance, you should ride in daylight. Even now, your face heats with anger. You had no intention of riding to the capital to raise the alarm—even if you knew how to get there, you doubt anyone would care for the fate of a tiny village in the borderlands. 

You slip dangerously in the saddle, yelping as you grab for the reins, righting yourself. You had never ridden a horse before now, much preferring to watch the huge beasts from afar rather than subject yourself to them up close. The stallion beneath you seems to know it, tossing his head irritatedly as you pull back haphazardly. 

“I’m afraid the saddle is too big for you.” The voice startles you, and you almost slip down out of the saddle again as you whirl to look at its source. Mirthful blue eyes meet your own. “We shall have to find you a smaller one.” 

You glare at him, your mouth stubbornly shut. 

“Oh come now. Are you still angry about last night?” He makes no effort to hide his amusement. You keep your jaw locked, refusing to answer—which only serves to amuse him further. Finally, your ire loosens your tongue.

“You would have killed me three days ago,” you bite out through gritted teeth. “And left my corpse in the dirt.” 

“Aye,” he answers, cocking his head. “Yet I did not.” Somehow, this enrages you even more. 

“You hunted the others for sport—” You half choke on the words. “You ran them down like dogs.”

“What use is a lame horse, Sweetmeat?” He asks. “Or a dog that won’t hunt?” There is no derision in his words, only indifference. “I cannot ask my riders to carry that burden.”

“So you kill them.” 

“Aye.” You see reflected in his eyes the same cool apathy a wild dog might give a rabbit. “Would you ask a wolf to apologize for feeding its strongest cubs, Little One?” You bristle, but he continues before you can speak. “Perhaps because it is removed from you, you do not see it. But I have seen it. I have seen your great cities of men, and the bodies that line the ditches of their streets. There is death for them everywhere.” You want to deny the truth of his words, but they settle on your skin like oil. “Better a quick death by my steel than a slow one beneath the heel of the man you call King.”

He stops his horse, and you mirror him, watching the orc warily. 

“If you wish to return to it, you’ve my blessing to do so, Sweetmeat. May you go and die in whichever way seems best to you.” 

You are overcome with the urge to dig your heels into the stallion’s sides and take off, to cut through the swaying sea of grass like a clean blade—but you hesitate. 

Your life in the village had been one of little note and much misery; tending to your father as he sickened himself with either too much ale or for the want of it as the days ground on and on. You’d felt little sorrow at his passing, considering he’d blacked your eye only three days prior. There were, no doubt, several villagers that had escaped on horses of their own, racing back toward the mountain to warn others of the orc-pack roaming the borderlands. You suppose you could rejoin them—the same people who had watched as your father’s druken rages consumed him and done nothing to help you. 

Your skin prickles with distaste. 

“No?” He asks after a lengthy silence. “Then let us ride on.” 

You watch sullenly as he takes his place at the front of the group, the other riders falling into a loose line behind him. 

—

No one offers to help you as you struggle down from your horse when they break to make camp, and you drop unceremoniously to the ground. For the most part, the rest of the pack ignores you completely, regarding you with the same indifference one might pay a rock as they go about setting up their bedrolls and hobbling the horses. They dwarf you as you all line up to fill your water skins, and the one with chestnut hair—-the blue-eyed-one had called him Buck—narrows his eyes at you. 

“What’d you do to earn water today?” He sneers. “Get to the back. We’ll see if we have any left for you.” You dig your heels in gritting your teeth despite your fear. The protestation is there on your tongue, but before you can voice it, someone else speaks instead. 

“Give her the water, Bucky.” The blue-eyed-orc rests a hand on his shoulder. 

“Steve, she will do nothing but slow us down and rob us of our food, our water—”

“Calm, Bucky.” He holds up a hand. “The human will hunt tomorrow, and tomorrow she will earn it. Tonight, give her the water.” For a moment there is tension between them, a charged current you can’t see, but it soon breaks. Reluctantly, Bucky fills your water skin, shoving it into your hands with a grimace. 

“It was fine to give her Roth’s horse—he fell, he’s got no need for it now,” Bucky spits irritatedly. “But Tarrath’s a fortnight’s ride from here. She’s going to need to earn her water.” He frowns at you. “Like the rest of us.” Steve nods his understanding. 

“Aye. She will. Consider it half my portion.”

Angrily, you shuffle back over to your horse and begin unstrapping your bed-roll from its back. Nothing has been said outright, but you sleep away from the others, setting your roll up at the edge of camp. You know you aren’t welcome. You know you shouldn’t care at all for your usefulness, but you aren’t sure you’d fare any better wandering the grass sea alone. Your horse—Roth’s horse—stares down at you judgmentally while you wind the length of rope around his front legs, and you frown deeper. 

“Even the blasted horse,” you mutter, kicking aside a few loose rocks as you lay down the roll beside him. You don’t know how to hunt—it wasn’t as if your father had taught you, and you doubt he had the knowledge to do so in the first place. There is large bow strapped to the saddle, thus far untouched by you, and gently you undo the bindings. It is heavier than it looks, and you hold it aloft clumsily, the string biting hard into your fingers as you struggle to draw it back. 

“You won’t catch anything like that.” 

You don’t turn to look at him. 

“You didn’t have to give me your water. Steve.” He chuckles at the sound of his name on your lips. 

“I won’t be doing it again, Sweetmeat. So you’d better learn how to use that thing.” This time you do turn. He is closer than you anticipated, and you squeak with surprise as he plucks the bow from your hands with ease. “Hold it up, like this.” He draws the string back, the muscles rippling across his bare chest. “This is the sight, here, this notch.” He runs his thumb over the place where the arrow head will sit. “Come.” 

When you don’t move, he grips your hands firmly, winding them around the bow. 

“Like this, put your hand here.” His hand curls over yours, covering it completely. You’re practically trembling when he pulls away, your palms sweaty against the lacquered wood. “One last piece of advice, Sweetmeat.” 

“What?”

“Don’t miss.” 

to be continued

next

#chris evans #chris evans fandom #chris evans fanfiction #cevans fandom #cevans fic #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers au #steve rogers x y/n #captain america #boxofbonesfic #bones drabbles #Orc Au #Brave fic

[yjhariani]

You were on the bed, facing each other. It had been a few minutes, maybe even a few hours. Neither of you could shut your eyes. Neither of you could form words either.

Thoughts were floating in your minds, things that had happened and might as well as might not happen spread across your field of thoughts. Your limbs were cascading over one another, weaving the empty space with each other’s presence. Your eyes were dancing over each other’s faces, doing a waltz, maybe, or a tango across one curve to another.

“Have you ever looked at yourself?” Simon asked out of nowhere.

“In the mirror. Almost every day,” you answered. “Maybe every day. It’s hard to tell.”

“Not like that,” Simon said. “Have you ever looked at yourself? Actually looked at yourself?”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

Simon gulped down his hesitation. His mind tried to shock his tongue so it would actually help him express a thing or two. It was not an easy thing for him to do and he almost believed that a gun in his hand would help a little more with this part of life.

Another moment he took to straighten and loosen his tongue. Simon forcely banished the lump in his throat. This last few seconds, his eyes were wandering away from your face, not sure if he had made a mistake or not.

The only thing that told him that he was not making a mistake and that he should be free to speak out was your hand that lied on his upper arm, the sweeps of your thumb on his skin, the smile of your eyes, the soothing hale from your nose, the heaving of your chest that matched his.

“If I could,” Simon started, “I’ll scoop your eyes out.”

Simon took his moment again after making sure that he raised his tone by the end of that sentence so you knew he was not done yet. However, your eyes widened slightly, your eyebrows were raised a little, but your lips started to spread.

“Then, I’ll scoop my eyes out and put them into your skull,” Simon continued. “Look in the mirror, so you could actually look at yourself. The way I look at you.”

Now your eyes were the one wandering away from his face whilst his eyes were fixed on your face.

“Even when you look away,” Simon added. “Especially when you look away.”

Your hand turned into a fist that weakly knocked on his chest as your legs shifted out of bashfulness and your smile was like a flower that flourished in dawn’s air.

Simon wrapped his hand on your hand that knocked on his chest. He peeled your fist off and flattened your palm against his before ever so slightly twisted your hands by the heels, to fill the spaces between your fingers with his. He hooked his fingers on the valley in between your fingers before you did the same.

“I can’t look at myself when I’m with you,” you said. “All I can look at is you.”

A light scoff puffed out of Simon’s lips. He kind of hated it. He kind of hated how you made his heart did a flip. As if he was startled. With a pleasant surprise. He hated how it felt as if you jabbed a mixer into his stomach.

Unfortunately, your flattery did not work that well this time. Simon never wanted you to look at him the way he looked at you. He would feel like he owed you something every time you did. He would feel like all the stars in the universe would judge him, like the sky would give him a mean look and make the sun cook him eventually.

However, every time as well was the only time Simon felt like he deserved all the good things in the world. Your gaze made him felt like he had no sin. Like he was confined in a room that no one could enter without his permission and the only person who was allowed to enter said room was you.

“How ‘bout we start looking at us instead, then?” Simon asked.

If your smile could elongate more, it would bridge a continent. The urge to bury your face somewhere was unbearable and you ended up flopping your face against Simon’s chest. You removed your hand from his hand and slid it around to his back.

Simon also did the gesture, he pulled you closer to him. He would rip his chest open and encase you in his ribs if he could. He would stitch your skins together if he could. Nothing was ever close enough.

However, this would have to do. Your legs tangled with one another, your arms casing each other, your face on his chest, his cheek on your hair.

“Alright,” Simon lightly chuckled before pressing his lips on your forehead. “Get some sleep.”

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost

[skzhua]

Episode ten. (finale)

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 3k

warnings: Swearing, suggestive (like, a lot...), reader and Min Ho are clingy as hell.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

a/n: A short cute ending... I miss writing this series already. Thank you for the love for this one <3

You smiled at him and let him hold you. "I am okay, just a bit shaken up from it all."

He sighed in relief. "You do know I went to her first because I was scared she'd worsen the situation, right?"

You were about to respond but seeing Dae coming at light's speed right at Min Ho, you backed away in fear. Kitty was running after him, just as overwhelmed as you were. Your breathing quickened once Dae grabbed him by the collar before slamming him against the wall. He was smaller, but definitely strong enough to be able to hurt Min Ho.

"You call yourself my friend?" Dae said, anger taking over him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know!" he yelled, shaking Min Ho's body.

"What are you doing?" Min Ho said, acting unfazed by what was happening. "Let go."

His grip finally loosened as Kitty arrived. Min Ho quickly joined your side again, putting his frame in front of you in a protective way.

"Dae, stop it, it's not Min Ho." she begged him. "This has nothing to do with him."

He observed you and your boyfriend, his eyes blinking a few times as he tried to process his own actions. "I'm sorry. I thought you and Kitty-"

"And I think," Min Ho shouted, cutting his sentence off. "you two should have remained pen pals. I think we all think so, too. Including her."

He took your hand and rushed you out of the room. You sent a sad look to your two other friends before you walked out the door. Min Ho didn't say a word until you got to the dorm. You both changed clothes and sat in the kitchen in silence. As he prepared a night tea for you as he'd usually do, you couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. This was definitely not how you thought the end of the semester would look like.

"Min, can we-"

"Talk?" he said in a hard voice. "Haven't we done enough talking today?"

You huffed. "I was about to ask if we could just relax. You're tense."

He put the mugs down in front of you as a sarcastic chuckle left his mouth. "My apologies after feeling like shit when my best friend just told me he thought I had a thing for his girlfriend when I am obviously smitten with my own. And that my girlfriend might have thought for a second I cared more about the only person I've been hating for months than about her."

You said nothing in response. The shake in your grip as you brought the drink to your lips said everything to him. You were frightened, and not by anything. By him. He raised his voice at you for the first time, and you weren't even the problem.

"Hey." he said in a much gentler tone. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

"I know."

You continued to drink quietly but he didn't take your answer as a good sign. He heard the slight worry in it and he hated the fact he caused it.

"I'm serious. I shouldn't have put all of my frustration on you, it's not fair."

You shook your head. "But you are right. I did worry for a second you cared more about her than me. It's stupid, I know. It's just..."

"Tell me, I won't judge."

You hesitated but eventually gained the courage to say it. "You're hot as hell when you act all heroic."

He spit his drink out before exploding in laughter. Meanwhile you started to whine and pout, shushing him from laughing at you.

"You promised you wouldn't judge." you cried out playfully.

"You're just too cute." he sneered at you. Walking around the counter, he stopped in front of you and brushed the hair off your face. "You wanted to be the one I saved and not Kitty?"

"No, I get why you did that because she was the one on fire and all. It's just you look handsome when playing the saviour."

He grinned and wrapped your legs around himself, helping you get a grip on him. "You want to be the damsel in distress that bad?"

"Yes." you admitted with a pout.

"Gosh, you look good when you're acting all innocent."

Getting a firmer grip on your thighs, he lifted you up which allowed you to be at his height. Licking his lips hungrily, he looked at you in a seductive way. You were glad he was holding you as it made your knees so weak just from the sight of him. Brushing your fingers through his dark locks, you attacked his lips. The tea long forgotten, he went immediately to his room and dropped you on the bed. Crawling on top of you, you took in his features with the little light you had. Even in the dark, he was breathtaking.

"Are you okay with this?"

You snorted. "As if this is the first time we've done something like this."

He shook his head. "I know but we might go further from here."

The tug you did on his shirt told him plenty. If you were that eager to take the clothes off him, you were eager for something else as well. He removed his upper clothing and leaned down to place soft kisses all over your face.

"I might go rough."

"I'm that hot?" you teased.

"Bloody fucking hot."

The front door opening only resulted to the both of you groaning in frustration.

"We really can't have a fucking break from them."

You laughed and gave him a kiss. "You're just sexually frustrated from being interrupted."

"And you're not?"

You giggled. "Cuddle up, I'm tired."

Though he would have liked to do something other than that, he complied and engulfed you in his warm body. You breathed in his smell and smiled to yourself. In all of what happened that day, you were just grateful to still have him by your side.

The morning was eventful. Kitty and Q were apparently mad at one another, Florian surpassed Dae in getting the best grades and you and Min Ho were nothing but depressed. He had told you he was going to Los Angeles to spend the holidays with his mother. You just didn't expect it to hurt as much. Still in bed, you played with his hair as he laid on your stomach.

"Baby, I can hear your heart and it's so fast." he mumbled.

"It's because I'm mad at you."

He sat up and moved to face you. "I'm leaving for a month at most, I'll be back before you know it." he reassured you as he stroke the skin of your sides softly.

"You're, like, the only good thing I have gotten out of this school. What am I going to do without you?"

"You're so dramatic, it's almost cute."

"Almost?"

He huffed. "Don't make me say it."

You laughed and brought his face to yours to kiss him. Your moment was cut short when you heard a groan from the other side of the room. Dae lazily got up and glanced at the two of you, both in shame and in embarrassment. While Min Ho brought the covers back on his upper body and turned his face away, you got out of his grasp and walked to Dae.

"Good morning."

"Hey." he said in a small voice.

"I know it's not really my place to tell, but you two care for each other a lot. I think it's the least of things to fix your problems before he leaves."

He let out an exhale and nodded. You gave him an encouraging smile before announcing to Min Ho that you were going to the other two flatmates.

You were sure to have heard Kitty's voice earlier so you didn't know why you only found Q in the living room.

"Hey, where is Kitty?"

He put his phone away and smiled sadly. "She got caught... for living with us."

You brought your hand to your mouth. "She's getting expelled, isn't she?"

"We don't know yet."

You sat with him and patted his back in comfort. As the door to the boys' room opened, you were at least glad to see them calm and amicable. Min Ho wasn't one to show his feelings much, so you knew they apologized and cleared things up.

"I'll need help packing." he said to you.

"Ask someone else, it'll just remind me you are leaving." you fake-cried.

"Stop being like this, come on." he nodded his head back to his room.

You shook your head. "Can we do something first?"

"What?"

Packing could wait. Instead, you offered him to go take some fresh air. You didn't care if you had no plan prepared whatsoever, you just wanted one last sweet moment with him before he left. You led him to a spot where a blooming tree stood with a bench next to it. Laying your head on his shoulder, you sighed as you reminisced the past months in this school.

"You're sad."

You let out a chuckle. "Thank you, Mr. Obvious."

"Don't be."

"Easier said than done."

He lifted you chin up and kissed your forehead gently. "We're not breaking up. I'm only going to see my mom... I miss her a lot."

You sniffed. "I know, and I'm glad you're going to spend time with her. I... I wish I didn't hate you so much before. So we could have had more time together, you know?"

He patted your head slightly before putting his hand on your cheek. "I think we hated each other for a reason. I know for a fact I hated how you presented yourself as that perfect girl who is too attractive for her own good."

You frowned. "Is it really how people see me?"

He laughed. "I can't say for others, but for me yes. And you just had to be that mesmerizing, it scared me."

You nodded your head slowly. "I see. And how was it a good thing for us?"

"It only drew me to you more. And before I knew it, I couldn't get you off my mind."

You melted at his words. "Me too."

"And, so," he continued. "that means you won't be out of my head when I'm away."

"Got it." you chuckled. "It still sucks."

"I know. We'll call, don't worry. You're not getting rid of me so easily."

"Can I do something real cheesy? You have no right to laugh at me, though."

As much as you hated it, he was right. You had nothing to worry about.

He grinned, expectedly. "What is it?"

You took the ring on your thumb off and asked for his pinky. You carefully placed it on it as it fitted perfectly. He let out an exhale at the gesture. With no hesitation, he took one of his own rings off and put it on your thumb as it was too big for your other fingers. He placed a soft kiss on it, earning a giggled from you.

"I love you."

Your eyes automatically got filled with tears. "Not more than I do."

So, with a heavy heart, you helped him pack his things. You made sure he brought with him a few of the polaroid pictures you took together and made him promise he'd show you off to anyone he met there.

"I'll go get my skincare products." he said after he pecked your lips.

You finished off by zipping up his luggage and it felt odd to see his side of the room almost empty. You had packed your own things as well since you'd be moving back with your uncle and aunt for the winter break. You brought everything by the front door and he was in awe at the sight.

"You're too sweet. I could have done that myself."

You took his hand. "It's helping me cope."

"Sure." he laughed. "I have to say bye to the others."

You knocked at their door and opened it to see them have a moment of their own, Q almost crying. You immediately went to hug Kitty yourself.

"You're really not coming back?"

"I'm afraid I'm not."

You could only tighten your hug from her words. "I'm really going to miss you."

Min Ho hand shook with Q. "Cheers, dude. I'll see you after the break."

You broke away from Kitty and hugged Q in his turn. "I better see you next semester."

"You will, for sure."

Min Ho pulled you back into his arm and rubbed your shoulder lovingly. "She's a bit emotional today."

You slapped him on his chest and he answered with a kiss on your head.

"We had a good run, Covey. Be good." he waved at her.

"Thanks, Min Ho."

With that, you both took your things and went outside to wait for your own car to come. This was it, a last moment before you could see him again in a month. You could keep away from each other, only able to say sweet words and goodbyes with a few kisses here and there. Your car was the first to arrive.

"Hop on, little pup."

You rolled your eyes. "Says the one who wanted us to stop with this."

"No, you were right. It's cute."

You smiled and kissed him one last time while your driver put everything in the trunk. "Text me when you get there? Just to let me know you, unfortunately, didn't crash."

He let out a scoff. "Alright, Park. Be petty."

He hugged you tightly before helping you get in the car. You waved him off as the chauffeur drove away from him.

You watched the trees pass by a few minutes later, finally getting used to the idea of him being away. The sudden pings from your phone were ignored at first, until they became too persistent. With annoyed groan, you opened your message app.

Dami: Hi, Y/N. I hope I have the right contact.

Dami: I am Min Ho's mother, Dami.

Dami: I'm sure he mentioned me, he sure mentioned you a lot to me.

Dami: I'd love to surprise my son when he gets here, if you are interested to participate.

Dami: Can I give you a call?

Although he was in first class, Min Ho hated travelling for hours. Getting close to no sleep, having to go through security at the airport, all of it were nothing but stressful. As he finally got his baggage back, he cheered himself up mentally with the thought of seeing his mother again. He kind of wished you were with him, to meet his mom properly.

To no surprise, the only recognizable person he saw was his mother's assistant. She bowed at him as a greeting before indicating for men, who he assumed were bodyguards, to get his things for him. He was disappointed she didn't come to get him herself, but he understood she was a public personality.

He was glad that the ride to where his mother lived was quick and efficient with close to little, even none, traffic. The gates of the mansion opened and he immediately spotted her standing at her porch, a smile spread on her face.

"Mom." he said as soon as he got out of the car.

"My boy! I'm so happy you got here safely." she exclaimed before hugging him tight. "Are you feeling tired?"

"A little bit, but I'm just happy to see you."

"Me too."

She led him inside and showed him the main rooms of the house before they sat in the living room. She offered him a refreshing drink before she installed herself comfortably.

"How was school? Did you do well?"

He nodded proudly. "Yes. I had excellent grades and I'd say I did better than last year."

"I'm glad." she said cheerfully. "You got along well with your friends? Made some more?" He nodded again happily. "And what about Y/N?"

He froze. "What about her?"

He hadn't gone in details about his relationship with her. Sure, he told her they were seeing each other but things got in the way and they were too busy for him to explain how things evolved.

"Are you in love?"

His face flushed as he got embarrassed. "Ah... I think I am."

She clapped her hands in excitement. "You could have invited her here, I would have love to meet her."

"I couldn't do that. She has her family back there. Plus, I could've scared her off by inviting her so far away after such a short amount of time being together."

She smiled sadly. "What a shame."

"Yeah..." he trailed off. He couldn't quite believe he already missed you. "It really is."

"So how come was I able to fly her here before you arrived?"

His head shot up from his mother's words. Looking around, and then looking back at her, he scoffed.

"Don't pull a joke like that!" he complained.

"She's not kidding."

He almost jumped from the sound of your voice coming from behind him. His brain malfunctioned as he looked back and forth from his mom to you.

"You little-" he cursed before chasing you.

You ran away as you exploded in laughter. Being smaller and weaker than him, he caught you in no time before spinning you around.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Surprise?"

He huffed and put you down. "You're crazy. You've got your family to spend the holidays with."

You shrugged. "A free trip to LA on a private jet to see my boyfriend sounded like a better deal. And don't worry, my aunt and uncle know I'm here."

He grinned like a child before pulling you into a long-lasting kiss, not even caring that his mom was in the same room. After you broke away, he led you to sit down with him.

"You were right, Min Ho. I love her." Dami squealed.

He smiled and then moved his eyes to stare back at yours. They glowed like never before and he couldn't believe how you were so mesmerizing to him.

"I love her, too."

Copyright © 2023 skzhua. All rights reserved.

#xo kitty #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty x reader #xo kitty minho #xo kitty minho x reader #xo kitty min ho #xo kitty min ho x reader #min ho x reader #sang heon lee #sang heon lee x reader

[hobiebrownbrowser]

Constant Arguments pt.2 <Back massages>

Summary: After the argument things got better. Until he started to disappear like always.

Contents: Kissing, cuddling, etc

Bad Spanish= blame Duolingo and the internet lol

Translations:

"¿Por qué estás levantada princesa?" = "Why are you up princess?"

"que voy a hacer contigo.." = "What am I going to do with you.."

"dulces sueños mi amor." = "Sweet dreams my love."

It was happening the way you thought it would. Still waking up on a cold mattress alone at night. You wanted to call him. Knowing damn well he wouldn't pick up anyway. You were more worried than angry, having to worry about his safety more than anything else.

It sent chills up your spine just thinking about Miles not coming back. You pushed the thought aside. Looking at the alarm clock too see it was 3AM. It was still considered night. The sun was hiding from the moon. I don't know why but it always felt that way. Just how Miles emotion's were hidden from you. Locked away in his heart where you couldn't reach.

You sighed, Looking at the slightly opened window. The air making the room colder than usual. You got up to close it. Stumbling in the dark until you reached the clear glass. The night was beautiful. The sky being filled with stars you've always wanted to touch.

The sight was memorizing. Wondering if Miles saw the same thing you did when he left every night. No matter how many times you told yourself you were fine with it, deep down his absence hurt. It felt life a knife was forced into your back. Missing his small touches more than anything.

You tightly shut your eyes. Eventually closing the window. You decided to stay up a little longer, Taking out your notebooks to study for a test you had tomorrow. Slowly easing the pain that reminded you of Miles. At least it was a distraction from something else. 'Someone' else.

//\\

How long has it been? 2 hours? 3? It was hopeless waiting for him to come back. The notes on every page memorized in the back of your mind on repeat. You looked outside one last time before getting up, Your stomach growling as you exit the room and towards the kitchen.

"¿Por qué estás levantada princesa?" You were startled by the sudden voice. Almost dropping the food in our hands. You looked back too see Miles sitting on the couch. Neon lights catching your eyes as he stands up.

You'd be lying if you said his mask wasn't imitating, His body turning until he was directly facing you.

"I was hungry.." was all you could say. His mask retracting to reveal his handsome face. He was breathtaking and he knew that. His braids complimenting his looks.

He looked you in the eyes before the food in your hands. It was more like a small snack, A tub of your favorite ice cream in your hands as you grab the scooper from the drawer.

Miles looked at you again before rubbing his temples. Covering the small smile that was daring too plaster on his face. You were the most adorable human he laid eyes upon. Giving up the tough act and taking off his suit for the night.

The thought of him laying next to you made your heart flutter. Finally being able to feel his arms wrapped around you tightly. It was a one time opportunity. Finishing in the kitchen and quickly following his lead like a lost puppy.

You noticed he was limping a bit. Walking slower than normal. He must be tired. Whatever he does out there must take alot of strength and energy. You quickly examined his built structure. Wanting to ease the pain somehow.

An embarrassing idea popped up in your head. What if you gave him a massage? Like what those places do to loosen up the tension in people's bodies. It was a silly idea. But you wanted to try it nonetheless.

"Hey babe...?" All you heard was a "hm" Miles being to tired to turn around. How were you going to explain you wanted to relax his muscles?

"Does your body need aftercare?" Miles stopped in the middle of the stairway. Looking back at you with a raised brow. Of course he'd take it as an invitation and not a helpful gesture.

"Not like 'that' Miles." You rolled your eyes. Urging him to keep going and you'll explain on the way. Miles shook his head 'no'. Clearly lying from the way he kept limping up the stairs.

You scoffed, Questioning if he could go any slower than this. It broke your heart a bit seeing him struggle. A part of you giggling, thinking he was waddling like a penguin.

"What's so funny Hermosa?"

You shook your head clarifying that it was nothing serious. You both reaching the top of the stairway and back to the bedroom. Miles immediately aiming for the bed, lying down clearly exhausted.

"Are you sure you don't need me to help?" You could tell he was thinking hard about what you said, A smile creeping on your face as he ushers you to come closer. Pulling you towards him as you both just lay there.

"Miles! My ice cream is gonna melt..." You whined, His grip not loosening on your waist, His eyes already glued shut. You poked his cheek. A small grunt emerging from his throat before he fluttered his eyes open again.

"que voy a hacer contigo.." You simply shrugged, bringing back up the offer to relax his muscles for him. He groaned again, sitting up from the bed and pulling off his shirt. Your heart dropped seeing all the scratches and scars on his back.

You wanted to kiss all of them. Taking away the pain they'd brought him. Without hesitation you kissed the one that ran down his spine. His body tensing up before relaxing to the cold touch of your lips.

You took a firm grip on his shoulders. Putting pressure with your thumb before rubbing in a circular motion. Making sure to get every crevice of his neck before moving somewhere else along his back muscle.

You couldn't really reach anywhere else with the position you were in. Telling him to lay on his stomach for more access to his pressure points. He paused for a moment before complying with you.

It was time to work your magic. Pressing on his back until you found an exact spot that felt like it needed treatment. A bearable sigh coming out of Miles nostrils everytime you found a painful spot. You didn't want to hurt him, being extremely careful in those sore parts.

Miles would let out a shudder every minute or so, The room temperature slowly dropping the colder it got outside. Your ears perked up to the sound of something hitting the window. A single water droplet catching your eye before many more revealed themselves.

It was raining, no wonder it suddenly got colder. You quickly finished up so Miles could rest. Miles pulling you closer to him.

"Ew. You stinky." Miles gave you a look, just wanting to sleep. Kissing your forehead and closing his eyes. You watched with glee, giving him a peck on the lips before grabbing your bowl of half melted ice cream. Finishing it off before following Miles lead to slumber.

"Dulces sueños mi amor."

#spider man: across the spider verse #42 miles morales #miles morales prowler #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles 42 #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales 42 #prowler miles #the prowler #atsv prowler #prowler miles fanfic #prowler miles morales #prowler #earth 42