#I guess this is how my parents felt when I was grown and moved out and it was time to eat me

[tasteleeknow-remade]

— koala

pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, roommates to lovers, soft!dom chan. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 4.3k

summary: your roommate is a very physically affectionate person, you're not. after brushing him off over and over it takes him going on a successful date for you to realise maybe the thought of him touching someone else like he did you was worse than anything. clashing love languages, jealousy and mutual pining.

a/n: i hit 500 followers a few days ago so i just wanted to say how grateful i am for the support! i created this sideblog to share a spur of the moment attempt at writing [prompted by the taste performance] and i didn't expect so much positivity. i definitely wouldn't have given it another go and kept writing more otherwise so thank you so much for letting me know you liked it! hope you like this too!

afab!reader. protected intercourse. jealousy. mutual pining. pet names. chan is very physically affectionate, that's the entire premise of this one, they are friends and its playful but reader is awkward about it! he's grabby and he lies on top of her etc.

You hadn’t grown up in the most affectionate family, your parents loved you—you knew that—but you could count the number of hugs you’d received from them on your fingers. You guessed it was for this reason you couldn’t help cringing away from your clingy roommate. Either he had a very different upbringing or he’d just been unaffected by it because he was probably the most physically affectionate person you’d come across in your life. He’d approach you from behind with no warning when you were brushing your teeth, doing the dishes, cooking, whatever it was. His arms would wrap around you, breath tickling your neck as he asked what you were doing, how your day was or announce he was bored. It was never anything important and definitely nothing that needed to be mumbled into your neck. You’d freeze whatever you were doing, waiting for him to let you go. “I’m obviously doing the dishes,” you’d answer prompting him to give a final squeeze before freeing you—wandering away as you recovered. Recently he’d taken to waking you up in the morning by stumbling into your room and collapsing on top of you, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress. If you were lucky enough to be in a position where he hadn’t pinned your arms under him you’d attempt to shove him off you, often a completely hopeless endeavour. He’d free you when he was ready. 

This is where you found yourself now; trapped under him—his face buried in your neck. “I can’t breathe,” you groaned, arms pinned under the covers. One of the unlucky mornings.

“You’re so comfy though, much more than my bed,” his mumbling was barely audible, his voice gruff. It sounded like he’d just woken up and stumbled in here before he’d even fully opened his eyes. You needed a lock on your door. You didn’t know why you hadn’t done that yet. Everytime you found yourself under him like this it seemed like your number one priority in life but then he’d climb off and you’d go about your day, letting the idea slip from your mind every time. 

“Off. Or I’ll scream,” you announced. Often the only way was to yell in his ear. You didn’t particularly like starting your morning with a high pitched scream so you’d use it as a last resort, just the threat was usually enough—thankfully. He rolled off you with a groan. 

“Why are you so mean to me?” 

“Mean to you? You just marched in here and crushed me while I was having the best dream.”

“About?”

“Moving out.” 

“See? Mean.” He rolled onto his side and grinned at you. “Luckily I know it’s all talk, you’d never leave me—you looovee me.” 

“Get out,” you muttered half-heartedly, closing your eyes again. You liked his company. A lot. Despite his clinginess.

You felt the bed move as he sat up. He was silent for a moment before speaking, “I need your help.” You waited for him to elaborate, keeping your eyes closed—still sleepy. “You know more about clothes than me and I’m always wearing the same things so…” He pressed his finger into the middle of your forehead. “Hey, are you listening?” 

You sighed and stretched your arms above your head, accepting you weren’t getting back to sleep. You propped yourself up on your elbows before speaking, “I was listening.” 

“Outfit. I need you to help me pick out an outfit.” 

You rubbed your eyes. “For what?” Your roommate couldn’t care less about clothes, everything he wore was black and he’d often walk around the place with hardly anything on at all. If you hadn’t seen his closet yourself you’d easily believe he owned two outfits total. 

“A date,” he muttered, eyes fixed on where he was fiddling with the embroidery on your blanket. A date… he didn’t go on dates. Your mutual friends always teased him about his total lack of dating life. You’d been on two entire dates in the last six months and he made you seem like a total socialite. His hand waved in front of your face after you’d apparently failed to respond in an appropriate window of time. 

“You’re going on a date?” 

“I am capable of finding someone, believe it or not,” he huffed, looking a little wounded. 

“I just…didn’t think you were…looking.” 

“I wasn’t really…I guess. She just asked me out when I was getting coffee yesterday morning.”

“And you said yes?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You threw your blankets off and climbed out of bed—stumbling to your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth. He was right. He had no reason not to go on a date. You squirted too much toothpaste on your brush and shoved it under the tap. He’d probably said yes because she was pretty, a pretty girl had spotted him in the coffee shop and worked up the courage to ask him out. It made sense. You shoved the toothbrush in your mouth just as Chan appeared in the doorway. 

“So you’ll help?”

You met his eyes in the mirror, he looked nervous—like you might actually say no. You nodded. It took one big step for him to wrap himself around you, mouth pressed to your skin. “Thank you,” he said, clinging to you a little longer than usual. 

“Get off or I’ll change my mind,” you mumbled around your toothbrush, a little toothpaste dribbling down your chin. He finished with his customary final squeeze and then he was gone. Leaving you to wonder what she looked like, this coffee shop girl.

“Is it alright that it’s all black?” he asked, fiddling with his collar. You’d put him in one of his long sleeve collared dress shirts and made him tuck it into some black pants with a belt. It was much more dressed up than his usual t-shirt and sweats look. 

“Yeah, just…” You reached to unbutton the shirt at his sleeves, rolling them up his arms. Your fingers brushed against his skin as you worked. You felt your cheeks warm. “If you roll these up it works for a day date, I think.” He was quiet as you moved to roll his other sleeve, it was rare for you to initiate any physical contact. You should’ve just told him to do this himself but it’d be awkward to stop now. You stood back when you were done, avoiding looking at his face as you inspected your work. He looked…really good. He turned to look in the mirror and fiddled with his sleeves a little before smiling.

“This is really okay?” he asked, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Yeah… yeah it’s okay.” His phone vibrated from where he’d tossed it on the bed, startling you. You grabbed the rejected shirts from the bed to hang them back in his closet while he checked it. 

“It’s her,” he said as you distracted yourself with his clothes. “She’s leaving home now apparently.” 

“You should go then,” you said, hanging one of the shirts back on a hanger. A hand on your shoulder made you jump. Why the hell were you so jumpy? You hung up the shirt and turned to face him, adopting a neutral facial expression. 

“Can I have a good luck hug?” he asked, arms open to receive you.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking?” You couldn’t think of a single time since you’d met when he’d asked you for a hug rather than just attaching himself to you with no warning.

His lips curved up into small smile. “I’m asking.” 

“A short one,” you said, unable to resist rewarding him for his unusual behaviour. 

He pulled you into his chest, the smell of his cologne overwhelming you. You were used to smelling his body wash when he was draped over you. He never wore cologne. You slowly lifted your arms to pat him lightly on the back. “Good luck then,” you muttered, prompting him to loosen his arms around you. Before you could pull away completely his hand moved up to hold the side of your head and his lips pressed gently to your forehead. You held your breath. He’d never done that before. You took a small step back and gave him a quick smile—failing to meet his eyes. Before he could get another word out you dashed from his room to the safety of your own. You sat on the end of your bed until you heard the front door close, falling back to stare at the ceiling as a heavy silence filled the apartment. 

You were struggling to keep your eyes open as you lounged in front of the TV. He’d been gone all afternoon and now it was well past your bedtime. You were working yourself up to accept the fact he probably wasn’t coming home tonight. It must have gone well. You’d been fiddling with your phone all afternoon, contemplating messaging him. What would you say? ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Is she prettier than me?’ ‘Are you going to go back to her place to fuck her?’ ‘When you wrap your arms around her, does she hug you back?’ Hence the phone being buried under the cushion at the other end of the couch, out of your reach. You were delaying going to bed, if you went to bed before he got home, the reality of him sleeping somewhere else—with someone else— would become real. Your eyes were so heavy, it wouldn’t hurt to close them for a little bit…

A warm body pressing you into the couch cushions woke you up, the smell of Chan’s cologne still lingering on his shirt. How long had you been asleep? It was still dark. “What time is it?” you whispered into his ear. 

“Just past 12 I think.” 

Had he fucked her already? Been to her place and fucked the pretty coffee shop girl before coming back here to press his body onto yours? “Get off,” you said, voice just above a whisper now. He played his usual game, ignoring you. You started squirming. “Chan, get off me,” you put as much assertiveness into your tone as you could. He pushed himself up so his weight was off you completely, hovering over you still. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Just get the fuck off me.”

He sat back on the couch, one leg tucked under him so he could keep his body turned towards you as you sat up against the arm rest. You pulled your knees to your chest. 

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” he asked again. 

“Where were you?” 

“We ended up seeing a late movie, didn't start till 10. I texted you.” 

You looked down to the cushion he was sitting on, the one your phone was buried under. 

“I’m going to bed,” you announced, standing up. “Can you get up? You’re sitting on my phone.” He reached under himself, swiping around with his hand. He stood up and flicked the light on before resuming his search. 

“It’s not here.”

You reached under the couch cushion, digging your phone out to discover you had 3 messages—all from him and sent around 10pm. 

“Why is it under there?” he asked, blocking you from moving past him. 

“Move.”

“What are you so cranky for, hm?” He went to grab you, like he usually did whenever he pulled you against his chest. You grabbed his wrist. 

“Just—” you sucked in a breath. “Will you just fucking move?” you snapped. 

He frowned, stepping aside so you could escape to your room—shutting the door a little too hard behind you. Why were you so angry? The thought of him touching you like he usually did after touching her. It felt wrong. You climbed into your bed, pulling the blankets up to your shoulders. Guilt started leaking into your anger the longer you sulked, morphing it into anxiety. You hadn’t even asked him how it went, if he had a nice time. It was a big deal for him, going on a date. You stared at your phone on your bedside table for a while before giving in and snatching it. You opened the messages he’d sent earlier. 

i think your good luck hugs must have magical properties it’s going very well 

she complimented my outfit

gonna be home late we’re catching a movie 

You climbed out of bed, throwing your phone down onto the mattress behind you. Fuck it. When you opened your door, the lights were all off—he must’ve gone to bed. You’d have to wake him then. You shut your door behind you, again—a little too hard. You marched to his closed door, hesitating with your hand on the doorknob. This was crazy, you were being crazy. Why were you being crazy? You dropped your hand just as the door swung open. Chan stood on the other side wearing only his sweats. He was silent for a moment—looking you up and down before speaking, “Yes?” 

Fuck. Think of something not crazy to say. “I-I wanted to know what movie you saw.” Not great.

“Why?”

Why would you wake him up in the middle of the night to ask that? “Just curious.” Stupid.

“At 2am?”

It was 2am? You’d been stewing in your room for two hours. You’d lost it. “Nevermind.” You turned to leave, his hand catching you around the wrist. 

“Why do you wanna know what movie I saw? Do you not believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?” 

“Because you think I fucked her instead.” 

You sucked in a breath, studying his face carefully. “Did you?” 

He took a step towards you, hand still wrapped around your wrist. “Are you jealous?” 

“No.”

“No?” He studied your face before slowly pulling you into his room and closing the door behind you. You found yourself pushed up against it, chest first. The wood was cold against the warm skin of your stomach, your small tank top riding up. “So it wouldn’t bother you if I touched her like this?” He traced his fingers up from your wrist slowly. They trailed all the way up your arm to your shoulder where he brushed your hair over your shoulder gently.  

“No,” you said again, less convincingly this time—voice a little breathy. 

He stepped closer, pressing your body further against the door with his. His lips touched the skin he’d revealed on your shoulder. “I think you’re jealous. I think you're angry with me for touching someone else. Hm? I’m right, aren't I?” You shook your head, breathing shallow. “I didn’t fuck her,” he continued. “We watched a movie, I drove her home and I kissed her goodnight.” You frowned.

“Kissed her?”

His chuckle tickled your skin. “On the forehead,” he clarified. 

“Like you kissed me…”

“No, not like I kissed you. That was different.”

You wriggled against him, turning yourself so your back was pressed against the door. He gave you no space to manoeuvre, keeping his body where it was right up against yours—your clothed breasts pressed against his bare chest. 

“Why was it different?”

“Because when I kissed her I was being polite.” 

“And when you kissed me?” you breathed. 

He traced his fingers up your neck, palm coming to a rest against your cheek—his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin. “That was because I love you.” 

You held your breath, eyes flicking back and forth between his as you attempted to decipher his meaning. Love…love as in his roommate who he loved as a close friend or… 

“You love me, too. Don’t you? I wasn’t sure. Not until tonight,” he continued.

“I-“ Did you love him? You wanted to kiss him. You were upset and you wanted to kiss him, that’s what you knew. 

“Mm?” he prompted.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours. He relented, letting you taste his lips on yours for the first time. You imagined how you’d feel if he had gone home with that girl tonight, if he’d come home the next day and announced he was seeing her again, if he started dating her and you missed your chance. You imagined if you couldn’t have him. 

He pulled away, leaving your lips wet. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” your voice was breathy as you panted, no hesitation this time. You attempted to pull him back for another kiss but he resisted. 

“Say it.” 

You leaned in to kiss each corner of his mouth before pressing your moist lips to his. “I love you,” you whispered against his mouth, feeling his lips curve up. 

“Yeah? Even when I smother you?” 

“Even then.” 

“Can I smother you now?”

“You’re asking?”

“I’m asking.” 

You detached yourself from him, ducking under his arms where they trapped you against the door. You crawled into his bed, lying back against his pillows as you approached you. “I’ve never had you in my bed before,” he smirked as he covered your body with his. “You’re always making me walk all the way to yours.” 

“I didn’t make you do anything.”

“I stubbed my toe on your door frame this morning.” 

“Your own fault.” 

He took your hands in his and stretched your arms above your head. You’d never held his hand before and now he was holding both as he hovered above you. Your hands were always so cold, his warm palms felt like they were bringing them to life. Sex was never a partcularly intimidate afair for you; you’d never slept with someone you actually cared about—who cared about you. Loved you? 

“Do you really?” 

“Hm?” 

“Love me.” 

“You really didn’t know? I didn’t think I could be any more obvious.” 

“You-I mean you never said anything…” You wracked your brain for any hints he could have given you. He never said anything, you were sure of it. He would never say anything important when he was draped over you. It was small talk. He was the only one who ever touched you that much but that’s just who he was. You thought that’s just who he was. “You mean all the…physical stuff?” You watched his lips curve up as he hovered over you. You’d had him over you so many times but with your mutual confessions still lingering in the air it felt altogether different. 

“Yeah, I mean the ‘physical stuff’.”

“You’re just like that though, you’re… not like me.” 

“I’m like that with people I love.” 

“Oh…” One of his hands moved to bring your wrists together so he could hold both your hands with one of his. The fingers on his free hand traced your lips, which had fallen open slightly in realisation. “But… you’ve always been like that with me.” 

“Mhm.” His fingers traced down your neck to the neckline of your tank top. “You’re not wearing a bra.” 

“I was sleeping.” 

“No you weren’t. You were stewing over me going on a date.” 

You ignored his teasing, focused on his gentle tracing across your chest. “Was she pretty?” you asked, watching his face for any clue about his true feelings. 

“Not nearly as pretty as you,” he muttered, sounding distracted as he released your hands from above your head. “Can I take this off?” He was playing with the hem of your top, his eyes fixed on where your nipples showed through the thin material. You placed your hand over his and guided him up under the hem, dragging his hand up your stomach to cup one of your breasts. 

“Soft,” he muttered. You couldn’t help laughing a little. 

“Yeah, have you never touched one before?” 

“Not these ones.”

“Are they different from the others?”

He ignored your question. “Can I see them? Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

You pushed at his chest with your free hand, still feeling a little awkward initiating contact. Ridiculous really considering his hand was cupping one of your tits. He sat back on his heels, hand retreating from under your top at the last possible moment. You took a deep breath before pulling your tank over your head, resisting the urge to cross your arms across your chest the second you tossed it aside. During your previous sexual encounters you’d felt a lot more confident, the knowledge that it was merely a physical exchange; that you didn’t really care what the person thought of you—it made it all much less daunting. You cared what Chan thought of you, a lot. You cared if he thought you were prettier than the coffee shop girl and so sitting there in front of him topless? Terrifying. You watched his eyes take in your bare skin and then just as you were lifting your arms to cover yourself he grabbed your legs, pulling you down the bed until you were flat on your back. He covered your body with his, his chest pressing onto yours. You sucked in a breath at his warm skin against your sensitive nipples. 

“Always imagined how it’d feel to have you under me like this…” He had you under him like this most days, the only difference was that you were half naked this time. “Do you remember during that heatwave when you were walking around in that little dress?”

You did remember that day. It was one of the hottest days of the year and the power outage meant you were left to cool down with a cold bath and ice cream you’d saved from the freezer. A strappy nightdress—which honestly would probably be better described as lingerie—was all you could bare having against your sticky skin. You remembered it well because that night he’d fallen asleep in your bed, the first and only time you’d actually slept together. You’d woken up with him wrapped around you, your dress riding up between you. You hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes the rest of the next day. You felt your cheeks warm at the memory. 

“You were…more touchy than usual,” you said, avoiding directly referencing the night he’d spent in your bed. 

He lifted himself from his elbows to his hands, creating some space between your bare chests so he could see your face. “Was I? I just remember thinking you were the prettiest thing I'd ever seen.” 

You tried and failed to hold back a smile, completely unused to compliments from him at all let alone ones like that. His lips curved up at your reaction and then they were on yours. He thought you were pretty, the prettiest. He loved you and he thought you were the prettiest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you again—a groan escaping him as you did. His lips on yours, your arms around his neck, his warm chest pressed into yours—it wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him. You wrapped your legs around him, attempting to pull him closer. He laughed against your lips. “Who’s the clingy one now, hm?” 

“More,” you muttered, fingers gripping his hair at the back of his head. 

“More?”

“Closer,” you said, desperate now. 

“I’m not sure that’s possible, baby.” 

You rolled your hips up into him, frustrated by the separation both your shorts and his sweats created. “Take them off. Please.”

“You’ll have to loosen your grip,” he said, giggling a little. He giggled. He giggled while you were desperate for him to take his sweats off and fuck you full. You released him, pulling your shorts down your legs as you watched him take the last of his clothes off. You’d seen his top half plenty, he’d walk around the place shirtless constantly. Anything below the belt? Well, that was new. He stood at the end of the bed, stroking his hard cock as he looked down at you. You still had your underwear on.

“Let me take them off,” he said, walking around to the side of the bed where he dug through his bedside drawer. He fished out an unopened box of condoms, tossing them on the bed before he crawled over to you. “Let me,” he repeated, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down your legs. He moved so slowly you were tempted to reach down and finish the job, his fingers brushing along your skin the entire way. When he finally threw them across the room he moved just as leisurely to grab a condom from the box. His eyes were fixed on your cunt as he slowly worked one down his cock, taking pleasure in drawing it out. You tried to stay quiet, not wanting to rush him but getting more and more impatient by the second. You sucked in a breath when he pressed a kiss to your ankle, the start of a long trail of kisses he made all the way up your legs. By the time he made it to your cunt you were squirming, desperate again. He pressed one kiss just above your clit and you reached down to grip his arm, attempting to pull him up to you. 

“Please….Channie…please…need you closer.”

He moved to hover over you, his mouth a breath away from yours. “How close, baby? Inside? You want me inside you?” 

“Please.” 

“You’re asking?” he smirked. 

You wrapped yourself around him again, arms and legs pulling him down into you. He laughed. “Okay, okay. Just wanted this so long, trying to make it last a little, hm?” He reached down to grip his cock, guiding himself to press the tip against you. “Here? Where do you want me?”

“There…there…” you whined. 

He pressed his lips to yours as his tip pushed into you. Closer. You moaned into his mouth. More. When he bottomed out you held him there, legs tightening around him. He was everywhere. He was over you, inside you.

“Don’t let go,” you whispered. 

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ masterlist

#kpop smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #x reader

[teaboot]

Hi! (just a personal ask. Sorry if it's not okay to ask for advice out of nowhere but I wanted to see an outer perspective and didn't wanna ask my friends. No pressure to answer of course but I would love to hear your thoughts!)

Is it normal for me to feel overwhelmed about something I want? I am just starting med school and it's a lot but I am fighting. And in my culture, parents buy their daughters their like things?? (like towels and bed sheets and a fridge. Anything they can buy except the apartment basically) for marriage from a young age. But my mom just started recently. And when she first bought me something. The idea of getting married & being a doctor (both things I want) felt like too much I teared up. My mom said I was being spoilers I guess?? Like I was ruining a good moment? Of course it is not that serious since I wasn't outright crying, and I just laughed afterwards as I felt silly lol ,but It got me thinking if I was being that dramatic.

This honestly felt like the moment in the movie where the mom hugs her daughter and says something like "oh how much you've grown" . Her retort felt like it was out of the script.

If you find time to answer, please be extremely blunt. Because I know for a fact I have a tendency to exaggerate things.

You are not overreacting. You are not exagerrating things. And I'm going to tell you this, because I experience this, the tendency to downplay your own feelings and recollections of events very often comes from having other people do it to you first. People tell you your feelings are wrong, or stupid, or irrational, and you learn to listen to them instead of yourself.

It makes complete sense that coming up on a major cultural milestone would make you feel excited, or scared, or overwhelmed. It sounds like you came upon the first step of a very big change and the reality of it all hit you at once, which sounds completely normal and expected!

Fuck, *I* used to get that about moving houses, and YOU'RE expecting shit like marriage? Holy fuck! I'd be a complete mess! The fact that you're level-headed enough to ask questions and process your feelings and talk things through is impressive, because I think I'd be losing my mind.

Personal story, but when I turned 17, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to a restaurant to celebrate. When I told her that it sounded nice, but I'd rather have dinner at home with the family, she told me I was a selfish narcissist, and that I was so busy thinking of myself that I didn't consider that other people might have been excited to go out.

At the time, I thought she'd been harsh but ultimately correct.

Now, I see that she had decided what kind of perfect evening she had wanted, and had expected me to play the part in the movie she had written herself. It had never been about what I wanted at all- it had been about her personal desires and expectations.

And it's normal to feel frustrated about things that don't go the way we want or expect, but lashing out at others is not an appropriate way to handle those emotions.

The way we feel cannot be controlled like a machine. The way we feel is usually not a problem. The problem is what we do, and the choices we make based on those feelings.

Children throw tantrums and sat mean things because they haven't learned better yet. They don't have the practice or experience. Adults like your mother and mine should have that on lock, but often don't, especially if culture or tradition or social expectations tell them their actions are justified.

If I had to take take guess, I'd say it sounds like your mom gave you this gift with an idea in mind of how she wanted you to react. She probably wanted you to be grateful and praising and sweet, so she could fulfill the role she envisioned for herself, and when you deviated from that picture, she was disappointed. From that perspective, it would seem that she felt slighted, and that she was owed your gratitude, and you were at fault for withholding it.

This perspective makes sense, in an emotionally immature sort of way, but would completely overlook your feelings, which are just as important.

Your exact situation is not one I've been in before, but if I'm correct in my assumptions (which I may not be) then I'd suggest keeping an eye out for other instances of your perspective and feelings being minimized.

Are you often told you are behaving irrationally? That you're over-emotional? That you're self-centered or greedy or entitled? Are you told that you don't remember things or do things as you're told? That you see problems where there aren't any? That you male trouble where there is none? That certain conversations aren't worth having, or that "you're always like this"?

It sounds like you know that something is off. I'd encourage you to keep asking questions and follow your instincts. At the end of the day, your life is your own, no matter where it came from.

#Teaboot advice #Good luck

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Labor HC (ft. Poly!Mates Bat Boys)

Warnings: intense labor, my bsf just had her first baby and told me all the horrific things 🫠, personally i never want children, thank the cauldron for healing magic, longish? compared to my other hc, i guess labor horror? the idea of giving birth scares the ever loving shit out of me

By the end of your pregnancy your stomach was the size of two side by side watermelons

Madja grew increasingly worried that you would not survive the labor at how big the babe inside of you had grown

you worried your child would tear itself out of your womb

indefinite bed rest for you

which you honestly didn't mind since it was getting difficult for you to move your body without getting tired

bat boys worry. you aren't illyrian. if the baby belonged to cassian or azriel, your body would not be able to allow for wings to grow. (paternity/gendering of the baby was not possible. all the results came back as inconclusive)

as it gets more cramped inside of you, every one of the baby's movements is felt by you.

Rhys neglects much of his work and favors spending every waking hour by your side.

Cassian and Azriel grow extremely considered when they hear commotion arising in the Hewn City. Az has heard that many in the Court of Nightmares wish for your demise in labor. They take each threat to your life seriously and spend their time ensuring the security and safety of you and your unborn child.

they can't protect you from the pain of labor though

Rhys and Az were asleep with you in the bed, Cassian preferring to stand guard outside your door.

You're pulled out of sleep rather abruptly, well aware of the unconscious tensing of your muscles as a stabbing pressure digs into your abdominal area. a tightening and squeeze so vicious that you try and sit up immediately but your big belly prevents you from doing so.

stomach churning fear rises in you. it was time.

you shake your mates awake as another squeezing pain that burned across your lower back and pelvis.

they've drilled for this. no really your bat boys have played out the scenario an annoying amount of times. Az leaps from the bed to alert Cassian, Rhys helping you sit up

Azriel leaves to fetch Madja since he's the fastest

the Wraiths prep everything you may need and wait in the room with you, Rhysand and Cassian until Azriel returns with the healer.

that's when things really start

you were already screaming when Madja arrived. Nuala and Cerridwen had prepped you for the labor if Madja were too late.

Azriel had your left hand, brows furrowed and wishing he can transfer the pain you were going through into his body. Even if this pain meant the birth of a child, he hated hearing your screams or the tears welling in your eyes as you push with all your might

Rhysand, who had been hold your right hand transfers it to Cassian's care as he moves to be by Madja side to watch the actual birth. His eyes keep darting from your lower half to your face.

you never knew bringing another life into the world was so painful. you yourself didn't know either of your parents. no one to warn you of what you would face in childbirth

your bat boys were there though, that was all that mattered.

time drags with each heave you give

then he was born. . .

Dagen. even with his wings tucked in tight, pushing him out damn near tore you from your v to your a. like that whole entire region was on fire

"O-Oh. . ." Madja gasped, clearly startled as she held your baby in her arms, having been about to pass him to Rhysand. Almost in fear she looks at Rhysand. "I. . .I think there is another babe coming. . ."

Two babies???

you didn't believe her. until you felt another intense wave of pain start up again. dagen nearly tore you in half. you couldn't imagine pushing out another baby that potentially had wings.

"no, please no" you sob, every part of you aching.

Cassian looks scared. "You can do this." his hand was numb but he didn 't care.

"We're here." Azriel nods and gives your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Rhysand was still standing a little dumbstruck with a fresh newborn in his arms.Thankfully one of the wraith sisters nudges him, her arms ready to take the baby so he can go back to focusing on the next one.

Rian arrived quickly, smaller than dagen thanks to the lack of wings

there was five minutes of peace where Rhysand and Cerridwen showed you your boys. beautiful boys that you and your mates created

until you felt another stabbing sensation.

you screamed at rhysand, azriel and cassian. damning them to a suffering in the afterlife for putting you through this.

to you this was bullshit.

it should be impossible!! then again, so was having three destined mates

Mor had called it a miracle. you now thought of it as a curse. you never knew having three mates meant giving birth to three babies at the same time

the third baby however would prove to be the most difficult. thanks to the previous two, you were beyond exhausted and begging for someone to just rip it from you. there was no way you could push it out by yourself.

Madja made the tough call of performing a cesarean section

the wraiths took away rian and dagen as the surgery took place

they'd been in wars, seen carnage, but there your bat boys were with white faces that expressed utter horror

the last baby to be delivered was a little girl with wings. your Baila.

exhausted, you pass out soon after Madja pulls her from you.

everyone is pushed out of the room except for madja herself as she sews you back up and stops the bleeding that could possibly kill you if not treated properly.

it feels like a dream to you when you wake up.

except every part of you is still suffering from a dull pain

your bat boys introduce you to your three pretty babies

i hc that dagen is azriel's, rian is rhysand's and baila is cassian's cuz i've always thought of him as a girl dad and nothing can change that lol

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #acotar fanfic #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar series #acotar cassian #cassian fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger #bat boys #acotar bat boys #rhysand x reader

[dumblilb]

I KNEW THEN

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

(Synopsis: You have loved Ellie since the moment she moved to Jackson. You just didn’t know it at the time. Inspired by Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers.)

(Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, smut with way to much backstory lmao, switch!Ellie, switch!reader, oral (reader and Ellie receiving), fingering, friends to lovers, tlou!au, smoking weed, cursing, fluff)

(Words: 3629)

You had been in Jackson about a year before Ellie had showed up. So when her and Joel moved in next door, your parents practically shoved you out of the house to go invite them to dinner.

You knocked on the door messing with the hem of your shirt. Till it swung open and a scruffy looking man stood in front of you.

“H-hello.” You stuttered out.

“Hi there.” Joel says and you muster up your best smile.

“I live next door and me and my parents were wondering if you guys would like to come over for dinner?” You explain. You can tell the man is tired and you expect him to say no. But he gives a polite grin and nods.

“What time?” He asks and your face lights up.

“Six.” You smile.

“See you then.” He says and shuts the door as you walk off. You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of him bringing the new girl in town over. You had seen her a few months back when they first found tommy. She was walking with Maria in town and you had bumped into them. The girl took a knife out of her pocket and held it to face you. You were so startled you fell back onto the snow covered floor.

“Ellie there’s no need for that.” Maria says and the girl lowers the knife as Maria helps you up.

“Sorry y/n.” She apologizes. And you dust your clothes off.

“It’s fine. I should have been watching where I was going.” You say as the girl next to her just stared at you. She had really pretty green eyes and freckles covering her frosty cheeks.

“Y/n this is Ellie. She’s a friend of Tommy’s brother.” Maria explains and you stick out a hand to shake. She looks at you funny but returns the gesture.

“Nice to meet you, I guess.” She says and you just smile ignoring that last bit.

“You too.” You say and they continue to walk leaving you to stare at the auburn haired girl.

You hadn’t been able to forget her since. She just seemed so cool and grown up compared to you. Even though you found out from your mom when they moved in that she’s the same age as you.

So as you ran home you thought of all the stuff you needed to do to get ready for tonight. You wanted her to like you.

You went into your room and shut the door loudly behind you. You stood in front of the mirror wondering if you should change your hairstyle up, or if you should put on some perfume. You changed your shirt twice and ended up laying on your bed, annoyed at the way your jeans fit, when your mom walked in.

“Are they coming over?” She asks taking in your newly messy room.

“Yeah at 6.” You say and she smiles.

“You better clean up then. What if she wants to see your room.” She teases you and you shoot up right. Looking around at the clothes scattered on your floor and the mess displayed on your vanity. You gasp internally. ‘Oh no’ is all you could think before you started to pile clothes into your hands and rush them to the laundry. Your mom just laughs before going to set the table. You finish up and rush to put on your earrings as you hear a knock at the door.

You dash past your parents and open it up. At first you only see Joel, who moves inside to greet your parents, which finally gives you a good view of her. She looked different than when you last saw her. Not really in appearance, but her demeanor. She seemed some how even more reserved. She had her hands in her pocked and a tired look on her face. All the work you had done lost all meaning in a mater of seconds and you felt humiliated realizing she probably wouldn’t care at all what you had done to look good, or how nice your room looked. But you mustered up the courage to give her a smile.

“Hi.” You say your voice almost cracking.

“Hi…” She says awkwardly. You move aside letting her in. She looks around as she gravitates towards Joel. Him and your parents notice this so as you shut the door your mom says-

“Why don’t you girls go hang out in y/n’s room as we finish up dinner.” Your heart drops as you stare at her wide eyed. Ellie just sighs and Joel nudges her in an attempt at getting her to be polite. You nervously lead the girl to your door and walk in. She stared at your posters that adorn your walls and the books and comics piled up by your bed.

“You wanna sit?” You ask motioning to the bed. She just shrugs and takes a seat. You doing the same.

“So uh, you like comics?” She asks breaking the silence and you look up at her.

“Oh yeah, I have a little collection. You like um too?” You smile and she nods.

“Yeah I had some but I couldn’t bring them to Jackson.” She says a little more comfortable than before.

“You can borrow some of mine. I’ve reread them like a hundred times so they could use some fresh eyes.” You say and she lights up.

“That would be really cool, thanks.” She says giving you a smile. It’s the first time you had seen her smile. Your stomach flipped at the sight. She was so pretty.

“So uh, do you like music?” You say and she nods enthusiastically. You spent the rest of the night getting to know each other. Talking about your interest and favorite things to do. You found out she really liked space and drawing. And you vowed to show her your favorite movies. You both were laying on your bed reading one of your comics in very loud and dramatic display when your mom knocked on the door opening it up.

“Dinner.” She says and can’t help but smile at the big grins on both of your faces.

Dinner at your respective houses became a weekly thing. And quickly a deep friendship was made. You were together all the time. You would sleep over in her garage all the time. To the point that you practically had your own drawer in her dresser. When you got old enough Maria had you and Ellie paired together on patrols. Ellie hated it. Not that she had to do them, but the fact that you got hurt so often. You’d never forget your first day. It was snowing and your feet hurt from the hours of walking in the heavy boots.

“Stay behind me okay.” She smiled moving some of your hair out of your face. You nodded and followed her around the corner towards a broken down fence. She was about to climb through when you both heard noise behind you. An infected was running straight for you. Ellie had spent weeks teaching you how to shoot. But it all seemed to slip your mind. You shot at it a few times before it tackled you to the ground. You grabbed a large rock that was next to you and tried to bash its head, but it was no use. Ellie ripped it off you stabbing it multiple times in the head. Blood splattered across her face as she did it. It fell dead to the ground and you looked up at her. The deep red lay against her frosty pale skin making your stomach flip. She kneeled in front of you and wiped away some that got on your cheek.

You had always thought Ellie was pretty. It never seemed weird to you. But in this moment you realized pretty wasn’t a good way to describe her anymore. It seemed too juvenile. Something any best friend would say. She was beautiful. When she looked at you it was almost polarizing. As she gave you a hand your grip trembled. Ellie would convince herself you were just scared after what just happened. But you knew it was the way she held on for a little too long after you got up that had your knees weak.

“Are you okay?” She asks rubbing your shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m okay…”You say not breaking eye contact.

From that day on you couldn’t help but notice little things about her. Like how she rested her hand on your waist when you would order for her at the tipsy bison. Or how she would kiss your forehead before leaving on a patrol you weren’t assigned on. Or how she was so protective of you when it came to the men in town. Little did she know they wouldn’t have a chance if they wanted one.

Ellie noticed things about you too. Like how you make sure to give her a compliment everyday. Or how you can’t help but cuddle up with her when you sleep over. Half the time leaving her aching as you sleep on her chest. Knowing it’s as close as she’s ever gonna get to what she wishes. She’s known how she’s felt about you since the first day she got here. You were just so gorgeous. It made her super nervous, so when you were so nice to her she couldn’t believe it. You began to get so close that she felt almost disgusted with how much she liked you. She even tried to date a little over the years to get over it. She dated this girl named cat who covered up her scars with a large tattoo on her forearm. But she knew that wouldn’t work out when all she could think about was how excited she was to show it to you.

The day of your 19th birthday you and a few friends went to the bar to do makeshift karaoke. Your parents, Joel, Tommy, and Maria all sat at a table in the back laughing at the sight in front of them. You and Ellie danced around like children as Dina and Jesse sang a horrible rendition of my heart will go on. When they finished up you got up and grabbed the guitar you borrowed from Joel. You start to strum and they all sit down.

You start to sing. At first all you could focus on was where you were putting your fingers. Knowing you weren’t as good as Ellie or Joel. But as you got farther into the song you looked up from the strings and at her. Whenever you heard this song you thought of her. You thought of her voice and how her skin feels against yours. You thought of how much she’s gone through and how many times she been your personal defender. You thought about how no matter what you did she was always the first and last thought you had each day. She consumed you. All you could do was stare at her as the words left you lips.

“Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment. Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor, and I knew then.

I would do anything you want me to.

I would do anything for you. I would do anything, I would do anything. Whatever you want me to do, I will do.

Whatever she wants, whatever she wants.

Whatever she wants

Whatever she wants

I will do anything

I will do anything

Whatever she wants

Whatever she wants…..”

The air felt thick as you both looked at each other. The others clapped and you got up walking towards her. You said nothing. Not one word. You just took a seat next to her and watched the next performance. She gripped your hand. Tight. And she didn’t let go till you got to her place that night.

You sat on her couch with a joint between your fingers and her legs entangled with yours. She ran her fingers down your thigh as she looked at you. She was humming the song you sang as you let out a puff of smoke.

You had shared endless nights like this. But the feeling that only can be described as understanding roamed through the air. You were terrified. Cause you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You turned to face her, just taking the moment in. She had changed into an old t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. Her hair was half tied up. And as she took the joint from your fingers to her lips, the sight of them parting made you squirm in your seat. She let out the smoke and you finally spoke up.

“Ellie.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to know something.” You say and she hold your hand on hers.

“What’s up?” She says trying to play it cool. She can’t remember the last time she found anyone as beautiful as she found you right now.

“I- I think I’ve liked you from the day I met you.” You say in almost a whisper, causing her to chuckle nervously.

“I would hope so. We’re kinda best friends.” She jokes and you hold her hand tighter.

“Ellie. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” You finally let out without falter. She went tense. But her face softened. You look at her trying to read her mind. You rub the back of her hand with your thumb. Causing her to shiver. She finally lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in. And she smiled. She put her hand out to caress your cheek.

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear that.” She breathes causing you to let out a small giggle.

She moves her hand to the base of your neck. Pulling you towards her.

“Im glad. Cause you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.” You whisper and gently press your lips to hers. She grins into the kiss as you run your fingers from her hands to her arms. Moving to where she’s slightly on top of you, she separates slowly. Placing small kisses around your face. You place one last kiss to her lips before you pulled her up to go lay down.

“I’ve gotta say this is probably my favorite sleep over we have ever had.” She smirks and you push her shoulder.

“You better shut up or I’m going home.” You threaten. Small laughs leaving your lips.

“Oh yeah sure. I bet you think the stuffed bear on your bed kisses better than me too.” She smiles now hovering over you. Her knees on either side of your hips as she kisses down your neck.

You grip her hips tightly messing with the hem of her shirt. Sliding your thumbs into the waistband of her boxers you tug a little causing her to nip harder at you neck. She stops for a second to remove her shirt. Causing you to stare up at her in awe.

You wrap your arms under hers and glide your fingers down her bare back.

“You’re so beautiful.” You mutter causing a pink tint to coat her cheeks. You pull her down and start to kiss a line down her chest. Returning the favor she had done to your neck. She lets out a shaky breath gripping your shirt in her hands. She pulls it off of you slowly to let the feeling of your lips linger on her skin a little longer.

“Fuck..” she whispers. A hot feeling pooling in her stomach as she looks down at your chest. She places her hand on your skin rubbing the plush of your tits softly with her thumb, making your head lean back at the feeling. Your hands rest in her hair as she leans in connecting her mouth to one. Her tongue massages the area causing you to let out a soft moan. A hand travels down to try and remove your pajama shorts. So you lift your hips to help her. Grinding into her slightly causing her to groan.

She traveled down your body leaving sloppy pecks to your skin as she goes. She thumbs the damp era of your underwear.

“Hmm.” She sounds and you look down at her. “Can I-“

“Please.” You say. Urgency in your voice.

She lowers herself to place her nose to your clothed core and she breathes in deep causing you to gasp at her actions. She tugs at the fabric helping you get it off you legs. Leaving kisses down and back up your inner thighs as she goes. Spreading you open with her fingers she plays with your folds painfully slow. Neglecting your clit on purpose just to hear you whine.

“Ellie-“

“Shhhh…” she whispers placing her lips to your cunt leaving small kisses the the area. The vibrations of her statement making you close your eyes.

She dips her tongue in grazing it up your slit. And gently sucking on your sensitive bud. You groan loudly making her grip your hips harder. Begging to move quicker she massages the area, making you grind into her face. You grip the messy bed sheets tightly as she brings a hand to slowly insert a finger into your cunt.

She moves at a delicate pace looking up at you. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you let out a moan. Your skin was starting to glisten from sweat and each time you thrust towards her, your chest would bounce. A wet spot was forming in her boxers from the sight. Your knuckles were white as you gripped her sheets. But as she moved slightly one of your hand released its grip and found a new place in her hair. Tugging slightly to direct her where you needed. She complied happily. The feeling of you clenching as she added another finger almost being enough to make her finish herself.

“Ellie don’t stop… I’m gonna…” You barley get out as she pumps her fingers in you rapidly. Running circles on your clit with her tongue as she goes. Your head rolls back as you place your other hand to palm your chest pinching yourself as a wave of release washed over your body. Letting out a string of curses as she lets you ride out your high removing her fingers. Happily cleaning you up with mouth. She kisses up your chest to your cheeks using her thumb to open your lips, she places the fingers she was just using to them. Letting you taste yourself.

“You did so good.” She smiles softly as she places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m not done.” You say sitting up and flipping her on her back, causing her to look up at you in shock.

“It’s my turn. Whatever you want.” You smile sweetly leaving small kisses to her cheeks as you straddle her hips, locking her down.

“All I’ve ever wanted is you.” She whispers holding your face softly in her palms. Bringing you in for a kiss. It was needy. Like she was making up for lost time. Years of pent up frustration letting itself out in this moment.

You separate for a second to pull off her boxers. You notice the soaked spot but don’t say anything. Like it was a little secret all for yourself. You liked knowing that you had the same affect on her as she did for you.

You gripped her legs pulling her closer to the edge of the bed as you got down bedside it on your knees. You hoisted her thighs over your shoulder.

“God you’re so hot.” You groan as you run your palm down her toned abdomen. When you place your mouth on her slit you swear you hear her whimper out your name. She thrusts slightly on your face. Causing you to hold her down tighter. You start to move your tongue over her clit in small up and down motions, making tension build in her. You could tell she wanted to move quicker so you let her do just that. She used your face like a toy as you assisted her hips in ridding your tongue. She brought a hand down to play with her clit as you inserted your tongue in and out of her heat.

“You feel so fucking good.” She stammers out as you move her hand and replace the sensation with your lips suctioning the area and your fingers plunging in her. A loud groan escapes her lips. She couldn’t help but lean forward a little to watch you. You take notice to this and hover over her. Kissing her neck slowly. Her fingers grip your hair as your fingers continue to fill her walls. Your palm rubbing her puffy clit in the process. She becomes louder, letting out a string of curses her hips turn restless as you add another finger curling up slightly to hit her spot.

You can feel her clench around you tightly as her legs twitch. You feel her release. Cumming on your fingers making you smile against her. Kissing down her body, You remove your fingers with a steady motion. Licking her clean you drag it up to press your chest against hers. You leaned into the crook of her neck as she breathed heavily. Her chest moving up and down, mimicking yours.

You both got comfortable heads resting on her pillows as she connects her lips to yours. You feel something wet on your cheek and separate to look at her. She had small tears in the corners of her eyes. You brought your hand to caress her as she pulls you in tight, clinging to your body.

“Why are you crying?” You ask softly kissing away a tear that threatened to fall.

“I’m just so happy. I wish it wouldn’t have taken us this long to get here.” She sighs nuzzling her head in your chest with a big grin.

“Me too. Im so glad I have you.” You say running your fingers through her roots as she falls asleep in your arms. With a smile resting on her features.

#Spotify #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams oneshot #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #tlou fic #ellie the last of us #Ellie Williams x reader smut

[sweetestbasil]

RUBATOSIS || chapter one: self digestion

PAIRING : Dr.Gaul's Assistant!Coriolanus Snow x Experiment!Reader-Insert ( afab, they / them, sometimes it )

RATING : 18+ ( no smut in this chapter, but it's very unsettling )

WORD COUNT : 13, 776

WARNINGS : infidelity ( coryo's engaged to livia ), power imbalance, unreliable narrator ( it's 3rd POV but focuses on coryo's view ), unhealthy dynamics, dehumanizing language, medical experimentation, body examination that has... strange vibes, body horror-esque, coryo and gaul are messed up in this fic, he's more like his book version than movie

SUMMARY : 🙶 rubatosis - noun. the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 🙷

Fortune, marriage, and success - all within the hands of Coriolanus Snow, and it still isn’t enough to satisfy him. Tigris has grown distant and Livia is far more trouble than it's worth. 

Dr. Gaul has just the solution for him.

A/N : This is my first time posting my fanfic work on tumblr, so I hope everyone has fun reading this. If there are any mistakes, lemme know. This is the first of five chapters!

[ If you want to read it on AO3 instead ]

self digestion || autolysis - stage one of decomposition 

Oh, he hated this. 

He absolutely despised this.

A click of the soles, stepping against the freshly clean sidewalk, rid of any possible careless litter and debris. Had it not been for others who, too, were using the same path, even if they were going in opposite directions, had he half a mind, Coriolanus would have taken the moment to prop himself against a wall and let out the loudest sound of frustration. It wouldn’t be unwarranted, it wouldn’t be uncalled for. Dare he say, he almost feels he should be entitled to it. It had only been four days, but four days should have been enough time for Tigris to get back to him already. The correspondence was not even something of dire content, at least, Coriolanus imagined so. Questions of Grandma’am, if her time with Mrs. Plinth ( he was not going to refer to her as ‘Ma Plinth’ ) had been going well, how was the solo business venture regarding Tigris’s fashion going, was there any renovations that the home needed, how were they — things that he assumed, wrongly he guessed, that would be so simple to answer. 

God forbid that he still had the decency to still check in with his family even after he long moved out into his own place. 

If Tigris thought she could play him for a fool, she was the one in the wrong; the signs were as clear as can be, that Tigris was trying to ice him out as much as she could. And after all he’s worked hard for? Fixing the home up, making sure the fridge never stays empty, stabilizing the family. He’s even gotten engaged before Grandma’am could even croak, and is letting Tigris design his fiancé’s wedding gown! What else was he supposed to do to try and gain back her warmth? Dance and clap like a District to make himself seem smaller, more dumb, to please her? There was a lock to his jaw, a small grit in Coriolanus’s teeth, as he sipped down the coffee in his hand, the other in his coat pocket. 

He didn’t even wish to broach the idea of his fiancé on his walk to the Citadel. The heavy breath, a sigh, that breached itself out his lips. A hand raised to rub a gloved thumb briefly at the bridge of his nose. 

Ugh, Livia… It was a pain to even internally taste the words of her name on his tongue. 

It was an arranged marriage of convenience that he sought after, an extra piggy bank that he could expend on; and how quickly the elder Cardews lapped up at his palm when he planted the idea of marrying their daughter. A man who was of the old guard elite families, an assistant of Dr. Gaul’s, inheritor of the Plinth’s fortune, a gamemaker in training? They were downright salivating, that he almost felt embarrassed for Livia having to witness her parents’ stripped to their barest of greeds. The keyword being almost. Coriolanus needed to play his cards right to ensure his future, it was only fair game. If that meant taking his chance with the Cardews’ and their banks, he’d be just the fool that Tigris would want him to be if he turned them away. But, he could reluctantly suppose that the arrangement could be considered an equal drain on both parties. He seized their assets and their daughter seized up his free time. How could he forget the fundraiser dinner that Livia had invited them both to later on in the evening? She was delightful enough to remind him of it while they shared breakfast together, between his bites of quiche so that he couldn’t show a hint of a frown. 

Coriolanus sucked in a careful breath between his teeth. 

If she could only put herself to better use than just the one redeeming quality of a socialite. There was a slim chance he may have miscalculated. Perhaps it would have been an easier time, having something set up with Clemensia, or Lysistrata. 

“Mr. Snow! Good morning and welcome back, Dr. Gaul is already waiting for you in—“ 

“In Lab H05, got it! And a good morning to you, too.” He smiled back effortlessly to the front desk worker, giving them a wave and just the right, charming amount of teeth with the upwards pull of his mouth. 

Entering into the Citadel and seeing the hive of workers shift from one place to another in constant movement; they all tried to keep their voices at a low volume, but there was a constant buzz in the air, as they went from one hall to the other. Coriolanus maneuvered himself around them, slipping his deep mahogany overcoat seamlessly folded across his forearm. Full-Grain leather gloves that kept him warm from the cold, taken off his hands and instead placed neatly into the pocket of his overcoat. What a marvel it would have been for his young, naïve self to bear witness the luxury of a full wardrobe he now had. Never again did he have to spend long nights studying for the Academy besides an equally tired Tigris, who busied herself with trimming down the sizes of his father’s discarded shirts to fit him for school the next day. 

It was a muscle memory at this point, the path to one of the many labs that Dr. Gaul had established her practice in. She had told Coriolanus that she had a lab for each different study and project she was passionate towards, ones that were more… presentable, to the average Capital citizen, and ones that were more uncensored. Having worked for over a year under Dr. Gaul’s tutelage, Coriolanus had seen a decent amount, the clean and the vile, but even then, he knew very well he had not seen all. He wasn’t even sure if he did want to see all. Especially regarding what happened last time he wandered around the Citadel during Academy days. The doors to Lab H05 were wide open, Coriolanus noted, seeing it in his line of sight, getting closer and closer. It was inviting, telling any worker to come in and step in at any time ( should Dr. Gaul be around ). 

The air here was entirely different from what it was in the hallway. Where the air from when he first entered had been warm, inviting from the nipping cold outside. The vague smell of coffee, and an even fainter scent of something chemical, had mingled and intertwined to give the vaguest illusion that the Citadel could pass for a workplace like any other. However, the lab was as if entering an entirely different building. The lights that shone uncomfortably glaring, fluorescent lights that were hung overhead, on the ceiling. There were small lights, embedded into the floors and columns as well, guiding the path to any who walked in. It drowned the large room in an almost blue light. Lab H05 was one of the “clean” labs. A sterile scent in the air, the chemicals that were so faint in the halls were far more prominent, evident here. But, to the trained nose, there was something faint here too. The rusted scent of iron tickled under Coriolanus’s nose, but it barely registered to him anymore as anything concerning. Seeing the endless shelves of… odd specimens, the scent of blood was the last thing that should ever scare him away. 

“Dr. Gaul, good morning,” He kept a steady tone, not one that sounded tired, nor too joyous. Being seen as her “favorite” didn’t mean he could speak to her as casually as he pleased. It just meant that he took her current attention. A fickle thing that could be stripped away at any moment if he showed any less than acceptable. 

“Coryo,” He tensed his shoulders the same time she breathed it out in loving fashion. Her back once facing him, now turned as she walks towards him to cut the distance between the two. Since the gap started to form between Tigris and him, Dr. Gaul had taken to using that nickname on him. If it was to be used in terms of endearing him to her, or to mock him with the name that ghosts had called him, none could say for sure.

Coriolanus liked to believe it to be both, if he believed his assumptions of her character were right.

He never once let his eyes leave contact with her own, but he could hear the movement of her prominent, red latex gloves being peeled off her hands. She always thought it to be ironic, to wear such a color despite her profession. It matched the dye job that she had done on her surgical gown. He felt the weight of hands touching either side of his forearms, the smile on Dr. Gaul’s face caused a crinkle in her eyes as she bared all teeth in her smile. He wondered if she knew how threatening her grin looked.

“A morning to you as well. Has it been treating you good?”  

It felt as if some sort of warm feeling was spreading out from Dr. Gaul’s hands, through his arms and into his body. What a disgusting sensation, it made goosebumps rise on his skin. 

“As well as it could be.” Coriolanus’s voice spoke softly. 

Livia drained his energy far more than he expected with her morning rambles and gossip. 

Dr. Gaul’s hands smacked against his arms in a laugh, loud and knowing, she always knew, turning around to walk deeper in the lab. “Hah! By the sounds of it, it seems you’re not getting some peace of mind when you head home,” She turned back to look at him, giving him a glance, she was prying something out of him. “That’s no good, Coryo. You need to be in top shape to work, I can’t have my assistant become so… drained.” 

The crease in her eyes showed again. 

“If this is your preferred state, there is a new species of leeches I am working on. I assure you it is far more efficient than a Cardew of species.”

Well, now it was his turn to laugh. 

A dry chuckle that slipped from Coriolanus’s lips, moving to follow Dr. Gaul. Placing his coat on a table made of rich wood, something less… aseptic looking. There were moments where he often froze under the woman’s gaze; a humiliating, bodily reaction that made him feel so small, so vulnerable as he used to be. Yet, it was in times like these, where he could understand how Dr. Gaul still managed to hold sway over people besides just exemplary displays of fear and power. There was a sense of humor to her, if he could call it that, where if a powerful woman like her involved yourself in - you felt so included, special. 

“It was nothing like that. Livia just reminded me that after work today, she and I have to attend dinner later in the evening. It’s a fundraiser for the improvement and reconstruction of the Corso.” He turned his sight away from Dr. Gaul’s eyes, not being able to keep the contact any more. Flicking to the sight of the endless, bright shelves that lit up the tubes containing various specimens and experiments. Some failures, some on pauses, some successes, and some were just creative ‘what-ifs’; that would explain some of the seemingly useless fusions, like the jellyfish that had spider legs mixed in with some of its natural lappets, now encased in a resin tube. Coriolanus can’t recall if he was employed at the Citadel yet when this specimen was made. His fingers briefly touched upon the cool glass of it. What a disgusting idea. “I almost nearly forgot about it.” Dr. Gaul hummed at his response. 

“Why, doesn’t that sound riveting! What a joy young life is, flitting from one function to the other, all the night-time glamor. You know, before I was transferred to work in the Citadel, I was the same. I thought of giving my children some of my old wardrobe from my youth, but it’s so out of the current trends, it just collects dust now.” What a blessing, for her kids. They could avoid the embarrassment of coming into the room looking as if they robbed the Pre-Dark Days exhibit at the Capital’s museum. The heels of Dr. Gaul’s heels clicked against the smooth, waxed floor. Coriolanus could feel the brief sliver of her heavy presence pass him by from behind, as she went to head over to another area in the room. It sounded vaguely close to the center of it. 

“You must be excited, Coryo. Are you going to wear,” Her words paused. She was tasting the air for something. “Ah, what’s her name… That cousin of yours, the one who started her new business a while ago.”

What was the point of this conversation?

“Tigris.” 

A brief flare tickled behind his ribs, reminding him of his thoughts earlier before. Standing up from his spot, fingers now leaving the glass of the odd ( sickening ) creature, his prints left slightly behind on the glass. Stretching his shoulders back with his arms, muscles pulled, away from their previously hunched position. Coriolanus walked over to where Dr. Gaul was, who stood nearby another table at the center of the lab. This time, this one was far cleaner, made of what seemed to be a material of stainless steel. In her hands she carried a manila folder, or two, in her hands; her painted nails sifted through the papers carefully. She was writing something quickly down inside of it. He wanted to know, but he held his tongue. Gaul would tell him if it was something he needed to be aware of. 

“And I’m not sure. Livia is still picking out her dress and I want to match with her.” He smiled at her. 

“Aren’t you a romantic,” She gives him a look out of the corner of her eye, the blue one that matched his. It made his skin crawl, he hated the feeling of it. “Is your heart melting, Snow?”

Coriolanus hopes she sticks to her career as a Gamemaker, being a comedian looks like a bleak future for her. 

The smile on his lips grew wider, a small laugh at her words, his hand reaching to cover his mouth slightly to muffle the sound in the large room. 

“I wouldn’t say that just yet.” 

He wouldn’t say it at all. Livia? Melt his heart? Sure, she could melt his eardrums when she had that obnoxious snort to her loud laughs. It made her sound like a pig, shipped straight to the Capital from the farms of District 10. That would defeat the purpose of why he married her in the first place. It would be the utmost betrayal to himself, after he had promised to close himself after– 

“Since you have a date tonight,” His ears perked up immediately. “I’ll reduce the amount of work you have for today, I’ll be merciful.” He wouldn’t argue if she decided to give him more. She pressed a manila folder into his open hands, her grip was tight on it. This was a folder that not many eyes needed to be on. Taking it carefully from her hands, he raised it to his eyesight curiously, catching the sight of the project name written on top of it. 

PROJECT: CAPTIVE – A.01 PROMETHEUS 

Coriolanus brought his gaze back towards Dr. Gaul. He assumed he slipped a confused gaze at her, because before he could even ask her, she’s already speaking up:

“This is a project I had started around the time you were exiled in District 12.” 

His jaw slightly tightened. She didn’t have to use that exact word to describe it. 

“It’s far more… unique,” Her eyes rolled around the room as she sought out the word, the moment it landed on her tongue, she locked her sight immediately onto him. Gaul’s smile pulled a bit more at her cheeks, a festering excitement that was slipping out from her internal confines. The threat of teeth in her smile was no longer an attempt of niceties, but far more sinister in its intentions. Coriolanus would argue on a good day that both were the same, that Dr. Gaul’s cruelty was her being kind. “Than my other projects. Far more different than any of my other muttations, this is a beast of a different breed, but one that you and I know intimately well.”

 So this was a human experimentation, Coriolanus deduced. 

Dr. Gaul would never dare to refer to those below Capital ranks as something human, there was always something else she had to refer to them by. Animal, beast, plague, insect, if it stripped them of their humanity, she was eager to take it. They shared similar sentiments, but sometimes, he had to give them some form of distinct name to separate them. “I’ve actually grown quite fond of it. Usually, I’d handle its tests and exams, but you seem like you need a pick-me-up.” 

It should make him disgusted at how easily she could see through him. 

The older woman stepped further away from him, into one of the dark recesses of the room. Lab H05 was one of the main center labs within the Citadel, meaning it earned itself the privilege to have its layout be connected to other rooms, outside areas, halls, and the like. It just happened to be, the darker areas that Gaul was heading in were towards the direction of one of the elevators connected to the room. Coriolanus watched her body retreat into the dimly lit area, not quite following after her. He didn’t know why. His hands felt stiff with the folder in his hands. The pounding beat of his heart in his ears matched in tempo with the steps of her heels against the floor. If he was going to move, she was going to need to ask him. She knew too, the doctor knew her own footsteps, and she was very aware when others’ joined in. Turning around to look at where he still was, standing, watching, she looked back at him. Coriolanus could make out her faint silhouette in the dark, but Dr. Gaul’s blue eyes shone brighter in the dark. As if she had tapetum lucidum, how it reflected so wildly. She was not helping the rumors made against her, that questioned if she ever used herself for a subject of fascination. 

“Come now, Coryo. You don’t want to waste time.”

A silence fell upon them both. 

“Understood, I’m right behind you.”

Walking after her, Coriolanus descended the small set of stairs that she had gone down from, he stepped into the dimly lit area. The manila folder was still grasped tightly in his one hand, at his side. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand her. Yes, she said that she wanted to cheer him up, but he’d be a fool if he was to believe that’d was to be the only reason why she was doing this. Volumnia Gaul, telling confidential secrets because she cared for his well being? No, there was always something else. An ulterior motive she wished to serve, or a lesson she wanted to teach. When he was brought back from his sentence of being a peacekeeper, it was not because her heart broke over him. She was not weeping at him having to tread his feet into the muck and grime of District 12. It was because she was holding him up to an ambition that both him and her both wished to see. 

“This one,” Dr. Gaul started her words, occasionally turning her head to the side to make sure he was still following her ( he was ). “Started out as a simple curiosity. I had to sit with myself quite a bit to figure out a punishment that would actually serve some productivity.” Her hands reached behind her, flicking at the folder that Coriolanus was holding. He opened up the folder, finally, to look through the report. Whatever the Doctor was gesturing vaguely in conversation, it would be more explicit in her writings. “Displays of cadavers, desecration of the human silhouette, trauma to the cerebrum, these punishments can only go for so long before new ideas must be made. If the rebels expect the same disciplinary action, you can expect them to gain a tolerance to it.”

Squinting at the paper, he leaned his head slightly down to get a closer look of the subject. A small photo was attached to the report by a paperclip, it was a person who seemed to be in a similar age group to his. They looked clean, proper - they wore an ironed, white button up shirt under a dark vest, with unique, yet simple earrings they donned on. Pearls and tiny opals that dangled from a gold chain earring. A family heirloom, if Coriolanus had to guess. They smiled widely in the photo. Their teeth weren’t perfect, their upper cuspid was a bit more pointed in comparison to all others. 

They had once been a capital citizen, turned rebel, to… this. 

“I wanted to truly push my mind forward, and see if the impossible would truly be… well, possible.” Dr. Gaul grinned at the end of the sentence. Coriolanus lifted the photo up, after hooking his gaze unto the former for a moment. It’s a shame, he thought to himself. How pretty they are, had they not tainted their mind with childish ideas they would have continued to live in the comforts that they were so comfortably lavishing in before. He was curious as to whose family they once belonged to. A filthy curiosity enticed him, a want to digest more at the report at the risk of tuning out Gaul’s feverish ramblings. 

“Personally, I outdid myself.”

There was a small desire to curse her under his breath, the writing for the subject’s name was far too rushed and messy to read properly. Did she want him to read the report, or play word scramble? 

Dr. Gaul’s steps had stopped, the white noise of her chatter turned to silence was enough to bring his head back from the report. She stood between him and the elevator, holding her hands in front of her, folded. Peeking to the side, the button for the down level was lit up in a glow of red. Her smile widened. 

“Curiosity eating away at you, Coryo?” 

It still made his skin crawl, everytime she used that name. How frightening it was, that it also brought him a strange sense of the coldest warmth. 

“You’ve talked so vividly about them,” Not clear enough. “I want to see what makes you so excited about them.” He wants to see if they could come close to bringing him out of his frustrations. Fingers that touched the edge of the subject’s photo twitched in tempo with the small ding of the elevator. Doors opening, Dr. Gaul stepped to the side. Hands gestured, letting him know to step in first which he obliged. Yet, no other steps than his own followed him in. Coriolanus turned around, a puzzled look on his face when he noticed how Dr. Gaul was standing in the middle of the elevator’s doors. 

“Expected me to come join you? You can’t be so attached to my hip, Coryo.” She laughed, her hands reached in between her surgical gown and work attire. Pulling out a set of keys attached to her worker’s ID, she tugged a key off. Dr. Gaul dipped her body slightly in to twist at a lock that had revealed another panel of floor buttons aside from the usual floor ones. This must have been the key designated for the Citadel’s researchers and engineers. He had a private key of his own, but that was reserved for Game Makers. Still in training, but Dr. Gaul had persuaded the others to give him his own copy. “I have other things that need tending to, so you’ll have to have your fun without me.” Pushing a floor button that was labeled C09, glowing red under her touch, she gave him her key. She pressed into Coriolanus’s free palm, closing his fingers to clasp around it. 

“You can keep this one. I’ll ask for another copy.”

Was it because this one almost seemed rusted over to hell and back? Coriolanus wasn’t an idiot. He could feel the textured sensation of something that, usually, was supposed to be smooth metal. 

“Thank you, Dr. Gaul.” He spoke softly back to her. 

Dr. Gaul sent him another smile towards his way, the abominable sight of her gradually leaving his sight as the doors closed. A divide now between the both of them. 

Instantly, a breath of air was released from Coriolanus. His head reeled back, eyes closed,  leaning against the wall of the elevator. He was now by himself. Free from that imposing woman, he finally could be released from her watchful gaze. Always gauging him, examining him as if he, too, was another subject on her surgical table. Perhaps, in a strange, distant sense, he was. Which is why he likes it far more when their interactions are limited. Even if it makes him feel guilty if he hasn’t spoken to her for any prolonged amount of time. 

Another breath, he brought his head back down, eyes open. Opening his hand to where the key was held in his hand. It was frighteningly warm in his hand, most likely from when both Dr. Gaul and him held onto it. The material of the key was dark in color, rust having formed around some of the edges. Spots of dark stains marred its dull shine, it almost looks black in contrast to the key’s natural dark hue. This most definitely was blood, now dried. In his head, Coriolanus could see the vivid picture in his head: Dr. Gaul barely bothering to remove her gloves after leaving the examination room, holding the key between sticky gloves. A sneer pulled on Coriolanus’s face. He pocketed the key away. 

He wanted to focus on something else. 

The weight of the manila report at his side stuck out glaringly obvious, he still had yet to fully read through everything. His fingers were still thumbing between one of the pages, bookmarking a random place in the report. Should he wait to see the project on his own? Give himself something ‘fun’ to surprise himself with? A discomfort prickled at the hairs on his neck. No, he didn’t like surprises too much. Surprises meant no control, and no control meant chaos that wasn’t under his hand. And what more could be asked, when what he needed to know was right here. Hands flipped back open the manila folder while he waited for the elevator to finish its descent. 

On the first page, there was only one photo of the subject, before the project had started. Dr. Gaul was always so thorough, so there must have been more to see. And how he loved to be right, when the sight of more clipped on photos peeked through in between pages. He stopped at the sight of them. These had been nude, taken in what was most definitely an examination room. They must’ve been in captivity for a few days for how haggard they looked. Gleam completely gone, with only a dark emptiness seen on their face. Signs of minimal swelling on their left cheek from when they were hit by a peacekeeper when resisting arrest. Bags under the optics, suggesting either sleep deprivation or developed insomnia. His eyes lingered on the photos that took in zoomed in shots of identifiable beauty marks that were scattered around their body. One around the back of their left acromial, around the sternocleidomastoid, one on the left mammary gland, and another on the right femoral muscle. Unconsciously, his fingers traced along the edges of each photo as he examined them until they traced after the words of ink. 

The objective of the project: engaging and testing pain receptors on the subject. By use of non-licensed medication and surgical operations, the subject’s NTRK1 gene was mutated to a certain extent to gain the closest imitation to Congenital Analgesia ( while still keeping the subject alive ). If Coriolanus recalled, in his textbooks, Congenital Analgesia was a condition that always was given to a patient by a pass down from the parent. It was never really something ‘made’, or ‘given’. He could understand now why Dr. Gaul was so pleased with herself for accomplishing this feat. Curiosity was beckoning him, wanting to see more of what the report entailed. 

Pages dedicated to each operation, each test done. There were pain charts made, scales from 1 to 10, to test out the nerve receptors. Each test, the numbers on the chart went lower and lower; 10s that went to 9s, to the current lowest being a 6 for the majority of the subject’s body. The more sensitive areas, such as the frontal or the palmar of the body, were around 7 to 8 on the chart. Flipping to the back of the contents, there was a small note in Dr. Gaul’s handwriting.

Today, please take care of Project Prometheus’s nerve exams. The last surgical operation was done last month and they have just now fully recovered. Update the report by the end of today, to measure if there are any fluctuations on their pain receptors.

Sounded simple enough. If this was all he had to do today, then there was a chance he could clock out from work even earlier to give himself space before tonight’s event. A ding finally was heard from the elevator, he was here at Lab C09. Folder closed in his hands, his foot stepped out of the elevator and onto the floor. What a drastic difference Lab C09 had been in comparison to Lab H05. If it hadn’t belonged to Dr. Gaul, Coriolanus may not have been able to believe that this was an actual functioning lab. It almost seemed forgotten by the Citadel, half of the fluorescent lights not working, or blinking at different intervals. It bathed the floor in a very gray, almost vile green hue. The scent of copper and rust was far more noticeable, and the smell of medicine felt almost nauseous here. There were no grand columns in sight, and no endless amount of shelves dedicated to new specimens and ideas of creation. The floors were unkempt, specks of dirt packed into the corners of where the wall and once sleek tiles met. Occasional cracks on the floor, parts of the design broken and shattered into bits of ceramic. The halls were long, with endless doors that ( thankfully ) all were open, empty, or both. With the exception of the large corridor doors at the other end. He could make out the sight of Peacekeepers that stood on guard, near the corridor door and by the elevator entrance. 

This definitely was Dr. Gaul’s more… uncensored labs. 

Coriolanus took a few more steps into the lab and noticed the large stain of dried blood that dragged from where his feet stood, past the corridor doors. Eyebrows raised at the sight, but his eyes did not widen. Marvelous, the subject might still be rebellious. If this was to be the case, he’d be severely unimpressed. All these exams to change the NTRK1 and nothing done to affect the amygdala. 

Sloppy work here, Dr. Gaul. 

Pushing through the corridor doors, after giving the briefest of nods and acknowledgement towards the Peacekeepers, he found himself exactly where he needed to be. Entering an area that was entirely void of light, except for one thing. 

A large window glass on the other side, showing the examination room on the other side. It lit up this half of the hall, shelves of varying medicines and chemicals lined against the walls of the examination room. Surgical tools were lined up high on the wall, out of reach, not yet pulled out and placed on the side. Today there was no operation to be done. Examination lights shone overhead, and under it was the examination table where Project Prometheus sat. 

They sat down so compactly, so politely, knees folded to their chest and arms wrapped around them, their face leaned against the crevice their legs gave. The subject definitely had changed, physically, since the projects had begun. Their skin barely had the warm glow it had in their photo, had it not been for the peeks of color on their joints, he’d assume that there was no more blood rushing through their body. Their hair that once looked so well maintained, luxurious, was cut at awkward angles. Yet, it still managed to frame their face well enough. Figures, that was former Capital genes at work. Their body has taken significant damage since then. Scars of various shapes were scattered all across, bandages wrapped in some areas, and stitches that dragged around entire limbs, like their arms, thighs, feet, even one on their face. As if they were some over-played ragdoll that was patched up far too many times. There was no fight he could see from their eyes, and no anger. Was the blood on the floor halls really theirs, or did that belong to someone else?

This could not even be called anything, but a shell of a husk. 

Coriolanus stood there, watching, taking in the sight of them. It barely felt like he was breathing. And that alone irritated him. It’s like his body was trying to make itself seem smaller; as if he was somehow bothering them. He sighed out his frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. They couldn’t even hear him from the thick glass, what would he be so concerned with? Bringing his hand back down, about to open the manila folder once again to compare their ID photo to their current state - he peeked at their form again. 

He had been noticed by it. 

His breath felt lodged in his throat, his original action now tossed to the side, as they and him both just… watched each other. Their eyes that had looked so sullen and distant before, were so focused and vigilant of him. But, they didn’t seem scared of him. Their body didn’t look tense, their expression didn’t twist into any wrinkles. What feeling was running through their body? Could they possibly feel anything? Coriolanus stepped away from the glass, slowly, and down further into the hall, to where the door of their examination room was. A peacekeeper stood guard near the heavy door, beside them a surgical gown, cap, goggles and gloves were on a hook. Excusing the other to the side, so he could reach and grab the attire to put on himself. Coriolanus questioned, as he tugged the latex rubber gloves on, if he still wanted to entertain the idea of holding their test today. Teeth grinded inside his jaw, he hated to admit weakness, but it was no lie that they unsettled him when they had stared back. 

That probably contributed to why Dr. Gaul favored the project so much, both must take joy from bringing him such unease. A sigh hissed from his teeth, as he put the surgical mask on. 

“I’ll be back out in just a moment. I’ll let you know if an emergency comes up.” 

It’ll be easy work, and then he can leave.

Opening the door, the sterile smell of the room rushed past him as the metal door was moved from its tight seal and then closed heavily behind him. Their head had moved away from where the glass window was, turned to stare at where he stood near the door, their folder still in his hands. Thinly-veiled sweat was forming inside the gloves, with the silence that fell heavy in the room. He opened the folder. 

“Good morning, Subject A01, I am–”

…? 

Did they say something? 

“...I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Another tense silence fell in the air. 

“... That isn’t my name.” Its voice was quiet, slightly hoarse but not entirely. Unexpected, considering their length of stay here. His fingers pinched tightly at one of the pages. 

“...What do you mean?” He was not going to call them by their Capital name. They had long since lost the right to use it, after rebelling against Panem. 

“Dr. Gaul calls me something else.” Coriolanus was going to kill it if they did not clarify. 

“And what does she call you?” This was the nicest tone he could muster. 

They spoke it once into the air, still looking at him with those dead eyes of theirs. Had Dr. Gaul been so fond of it to have given it an entirely new name? And they accepted and went along with it? That didn’t feel right, from what he’s examined about them so far. They were a rebel, they had fought against a Peacekeeper, they were dragged around the halls bleeding. 

And they gave up their old name?

It had shifted out of its cradled position, their legs dangled off the examination table and their arms were placed on their side. Coriolanus could see the patient gown they wore more clearly. It kicked its feet in the air idly, as it waited for his response. 

… Do they even know the situation that they’re in? 

“...Right. Well, do you know why I’m here?” 

“Not really. I’ve never met you before.” Was context clues also something it gave up while in captivity? “I know the guards, and I know Dr. Gaul. I don’t think I know about you,” They’re a prisoner, it’d be counter-intuitive if people were giving them info about every single staff member here. His mask covered the lower half of his face, but he hoped the slight shift of facial muscle was enough to convey that was trying to smile towards them. He walked further into the examination room, closer to where it sat and where the shelves of drugs and medical equipment were lined up. Their stare was burrowing holes into his back, while he shifted around, opening and closing shelves and drawers to check inside for what he needed. 

“Well, I am Dr. Gaul’s assistant. You can call me Snow,” He was not giving his first name to a former rebel. “I’m here today because Dr. Gaul is a bit busy today to handle your check-up, so I’ll be filling in her role.” Gloves shifted bottles around, turning them around to read the labels. The disinfectant, cotton swabs, tweezers, needles, rubbing alcohol, syringes, the bite-rag, marker, he had it all except the custom medicine that Dr. Gaul had made for it. In the instructions of how to construct their exam, Dr. Gaul had explicitly mentioned that they were to take specific medication, as they had helped keep it conscious at all times for operations and exams. It was needed so that they’d be able to relay the ratings, which is why Coriolanus was reading yet another prescription bottle in his hands, squinting in frustration. 

“It’s this bottle over here.” 

A delicate, scarred hand had pointed at another bottle that sat idly on the shelf. Coriolanus turned his head slightly, seeing the subject no longer on the examination table, standing behind him quietly. Not staring at him, they were entirely looking at where their hand pointed. They were only standing just a couple inches away from his body, careful not to touch him as they stood on the tips of their toes to point at the medicine. With this proximity, it was easier for him to get a closer look at them. The stitches on its body were done with thick, prominent threads; there were far more beauty marks he could pick out on their face that the photos didn’t display. The patient gown was made from a material far thinner than he expected, a visible silhouette could be seen from underneath the flimsy cloth. His mouth felt unusually dry. 

A cold chill trickled down his spine. He barely noticed them. He doesn’t even think it made a sound when it moved. 

“Careful, keep your space from me.” He spoke, a careful warning to their ears and a threatening promise on his. He didn’t want to risk being so close to them like this, he barely knew the extent of how violent the project could possibly be yet. Still, they listened, backing away from him and putting their hand back down to their side. Both it and him stared at each other again, the tense air dancing back inside the room. They looked as if they had wanted to say something, and Coriolanus, internally, felt almost violent for how demure they were being with him. It repulsed him, how it felt almost endearing if he looked at them for a second more. 

“Is something wrong?” Eventually he bit the bullet, speaking first between the two of them. He can’t bear another moment of silence with it. 

“... I don’t need a bite-rag. I don’t think I really scream much anymore.” They still had an issue with explaining context to him more, he’ll tell Dr. Gaul that needed some work lat– His jaw ticked… Why did he care about your abysmal social skills? It was a captive, it had no one to speak to other than their own captors. Pulling down their prescription from the shelf, a dark, thick liquid, he said in return: “It’s best to have it on hand, just in case you need it. Now, return back to the examination table.” For a split second, he thought he could see their gaze soften at him. Were they seriously entertaining the idea that he was being nice to them? Coriolanus just didn’t want to deal with their sounds while he worked. It’d be like trading one screaming fit for another, for when he had to go on his date with Livia later in the evening. 

They nodded, and followed his command, walking back to sit on top of it. Their body was sitting in his direction though, observing, waiting for him. Coriolanus still felt unsure about them, but… it was strange, their obedience. It made him suspicious of its intent with all this. Trailing back to the center of the examination room, he placed all the tools on a metal tray. Pulling out an exam stool from under one of the tables, he set the syringe to the cap of its prescription. He pulled the plunger of the syringe up, watching as the barrel filled up with medicine, until it sat nicely. The needle left smoothly from the cap, and a drop of the liquid dangled at the edge of it. This form of silence he liked far more better. 

“...Do you have family, Dr. Snow?” 

So close. Coriolanus flicked the needle harshly, the drop hitting somewhere else. He placed the ready syringe down, and picked up the black marker. Turning back towards them, their head rested in their palms, watching him intensely. 

“That’s none of your concern. Now please, remove your gown so we can get started on the examination.” Grabbing the stool to pull it underneath him, he got comfortable in the seat while it moved to get up. As their hands reached behind them to undo the tie around their waist first, it still spoke ( much to his chagrin ). 

“I was just wondering since Dr. Gaul usually talks whenever she comes to visit.” That explained why their throat was not as hoarse as he was expecting. Dr. Gaul was treating her trials with them as a morning brunch. “She sometimes talks about her day, or talks about her family.” They loosened the tie around their waist, the fabric more flowy around their lower body. Coriolanus stared intently, taking in the first peek of skin. Looking past the scars, despite the stitches pulling at parts of their skin, and the dented scars, their skin looked soft, malleable. They must’ve been popular on weekend nights, back then. Their hands reached up to undo the tie around their collar. Rather than watching him while he worked, it was his turn to watch them. There was that beauty mark on their left acromial. Eyes leisurely trailed back up to their fingers, the smallest note with how it fumbled around behind them to untie the flimsy string. Their movements were clumsy, in his eyes, which almost surprised him. “She likes to talk about her three kids often.”

Coriolanus looked away from their stitched fingers, confusion on his face. 

“Dr. Gaul only has two kids.” He’s seen the photos she has in her office. She has two sons, both who have gone on to have families of their own. Not once has she mentioned a third kid, Coriolanus isn’t even sure it was possible at her age. Didn’t menopause usually affect a person’s chances of getting pregnant? Maybe it was a secret child she had abandoned at the maternal ward while dropping off her resignation as an obstetrician. 

“No, she has three. She told me their names: Caius, Martius, and Coriolanus.” 

Oh. 

Oh, now that’s… 

“I see. You must be closer to Dr. Gaul than I am.” 

He didn’t know what to really say to that. There was really nothing for him to go and argue about, especially with the patient. Coriolanus couldn’t quite outright say that the third child was him, especially when he specifically told them to refer to him by his last name. And if he revealed that this was an entire lie on Dr. Gaul’s end, he wasn’t quite sure how the woman would react for doing so. It wasn’t his place, when he had no idea what Gaul had wanted to achieve. He understood the physical punishment and hypothesis being put upon Project Prometheus, but he had yet to understand where the emotional, and the mental, aspect of this punishment was. Dr. Gaul will tell him if it was needed, or he’ll figure it out based on his own conclusions. That must be one of the purposes Dr. Gaul had assigned this task to him. 

“Alright. I’m done.”

Coriolanus blinked. He didn’t even realize he lost focus on them, he let out a small exhale as he lifted himself from the exam stool, marker ready in hand. 

“Right, for the next step of this exam, I need to…” 

Words trailed off for him. 

What an entirely different view it was, from before, looking at them only from the back. From behind, it was just read to him as a large canvas of skin that had already been stained and painted on. Nothing that gave way to what person under the flesh could be. Yet, the front… There was more to regard and take note of, a far more different feeling than just having viewed from the photos alone in the reports. If he were to ignore the marks left on their body, had they stayed perfect from before, he could’ve made the argument about their body being more alluring than the average Capital citizen. That familiar, dry feeling touched his throat again. What a waste, for genes like that to be wasted on a rebel. There were more beauty marks and moles in the front, along with more stitches and scars. Coriolanus could see the surgical scars that were healing between their pectoralis major area. A curiosity rose, questioning how scarred tissue would feel under his gloves. He raised an eyebrow, as his gaze dared to move to a lower section on their body. Must be for easier mapping, that Dr. Gaul decided it was best to have their pubic area shaved clean.

“...Dr. Snow, are you okay?”

His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips under the surgical mask. 

“Fine, just thinking about Dr. Gaul’s instructions.” He was going to go insane before he could even head to the fundraiser tonight. Coriolanus reached his free hand out, hovering it over their shoulder area, guiding them to stand closer to the area between the exam table, and his stool. He took note, that despite the way their body has changed since their captivity, their body still held a warmth that radiated off from their skin. “Stand here, please. For this next step, I’ll be using this marker here to map out the different muscles and areas on your body. Are you familiar with this?”

The subject nodded, a yes from their lips. 

Good. 

The sound of the marker cap popping off filled in the lack of words on Coriolanus’s part, the black cap falling on the tiled floor and rolling off to a dark, distant corner of the room. “For today, we’ll only be focusing on the external pain chart. Meaning skin surface only,” He lifted the subject’s hair, pushing up against the subject’s head, strands that were long enough to block full access to the neck. Bringing the marker up, he pressed down the chiseled tip of alcoholic ink on the subject’s skin, making the first section of dotted lines. Writing on their skin in careful, small letters, the areas that compromised their neck; the semispinalis capitis, the levator scapulae, the rhomboid minor–

“How long have you worked for Dr. Gaul?”

Fingers nearly stumbled in drawing when the muscle stretched in movement, he lifted the marker carefully away from its skin. The idea of putting in Gaul’s suggestion box the order of a mouth gag was becoming all the more tempting to him. 

“It doesn’t concern you.” Coriolanus responded, coolly. 

He pressed the marker back down on its skin, moving himself to the anterior of its body. Between his gloved fingers, he held their chin. The muscle limp in his hands, letting him lift their chin up to show more, exposing the unfolded expanse of their skin. The project was an annoying one, but at the least,they were a pliant one. The black dotted lines drew itself across the subject’s body: the sternocleidomastoid, the sternohyoid–

“How has your day been so far, Dr. Snow?”

Would Dr. Gaul throw him to the curb if he strangled one of her projects?

Coriolanus lifted himself slightly from his leaned down angle, his fingers that once lifted its chin up, had pulled their chin back down to look at him eye to eye. Its gaze stared back at him with such emptiness, a lack of anything to be seen, no anger, no defiance, no discomfort, not even joy. His eyebrows narrowed down slightly as he took in the face that held no question to how, and what, manner he held their body in. Were they trying to please him? Make his guard drop down by asking questions, hoping that he’d become more sympathetic towards them? 

“Dr. Gaul isn’t here. You are under no requirement to attempt conversations like you’ve done with her.” He spoke, trying his best attempt at sounding sympathetic to their ears. That would be the easiest explanation. The soul of them was sucked out by Dr. Gaul forcing them into an illusion of a grotesque socialite. That’d explain away the project’s incessant speaking. 

Yet, the subject had tilted their head under his fingers. The slightest push against his grasp. 

“... Do you not like talking, Dr. Snow? Dr. Gaul always looks so happy when she’s talking.”

So they were trying to suck up to him. He locked his teeth. And to think, he was giving them a chance of redemption, by assuming that they had been conditioned to engage in meaningless conversation. Maybe he was wrong about their obedience. There was still a spark of a rebel within them regardless of their time, their experiences, in captivity. 

“I only ever see Dr. Gaul, so I got excited to see someone new. I’m sorry for upsetting you,”

They could’ve fooled him with that tone of voice. They sounded as dead as their eyes had looked. Yet, Coriolanus bit his bottom lip as the doubt touched his head; the subject’s stare, if he gazed deeply enough he felt as if he could almost make out a sullenness to them. Were they legitimately apologetic? He didn’t want to even know the answer, he just wanted to finish this job as quickly as possible. He let go of their chin, releasing it. Gloved fingers now traced the space between their shoulder and collarbone, the subject angling their neck to the other side to give him room. He brought the marker back down to their skin, more dotted lines appearing under his wake. 

“... What exactly is your relationship to Dr. Gaul, if I may ask?” He hated them, he decided. He hated how quickly they managed to rope him into this dumb small talk. It was almost audible, the sound of the subject blinking, feeling their gaze boring under the layers of his clothes. Did he say the wrong thing? Did they not want conversation? He adjusted the weight of his stance, uncomfortable under the silence the subject had unwillingly placed him in. Was he not doing what they wanted, was that not enough for them?

“Dr. Gaul is…” Their words trailed off. They were trying to find the words, unsure of what to say to him. They most likely didn’t want to try and insult her, considering her assistant was in the room with them. They don’t want to risk possibly earning more punishment. Project Prometheus may have been smarter than what he initially assumed. Coriolanus moved back to the posterior, hands trailed themselves across the subject’s shoulders, feeling, to remind him of the muscle underneath before he marked it down. Trapezius. 

“Dr. Gaul is my caretaker, I think.” 

Well isn’t that something unique. 

If the subject had decided to say captor, overseer, punisher, he wouldn’t have cared. It would’ve been honest. Caretaker? That was something different, that was something sympathetic. The thought of them turning this twisted dynamic into something heartfelt, fell sour on his tongue. It made him feel repulsion towards them. Why bother to lie? “Tell me about that.” His voice was soft, inviting the project to open themselves to him. As the marker continued to mark their skin, Coriolanus took one of its arms under his hand. The subject’s fingers twitched slightly, when he brought his hand under theirs. Their hand was not that big in comparison to his own, unable to fully fill out of his palm. The fingertips were usually the more sensitive parts, when it came to sensations. He hummed. Adductor pollicis. 

“...I’m not sure how to describe it well.” They sounded unsure. Spending this extended amount of time with them, Coriolanus could make out the slight tonal differences they had in their voice. It was very small, though. The muscles in his hands seem to slightly tense.

“Do your best for me.” 

Their fingertips, the slightly yellowed nails, tapped slightly at the latex material of his gloves. Almost as if fidgeting to gather the words, the right ones, to say to him. 

“Dr. Gaul has always been… someone there, I suppose.” Because she has to. “The guards are there too, but they don’t really notice me in the way Dr. Gaul does.” He wrote down on another part of the subject’s arm, drawing another dotted line. Brachioradialis. “Even though the tests kind of hurt, but I’m getting used to it now, she’s been the only one so far to give me a name, a birthday, check up on me, tell me about her day,” He was almost impressed at how their were trying to upsell the ‘normalcy’ of their captivity. A new name and birthday? Maybe the secret third child of Dr. Gaul wasn’t him, but actually them instead. He almost laughed aloud at the prospect of it. Coriolanus turns to the other side of their body, taking the other arm of the subject to write on after finishing the other. Biceps brachii. “That’s like a caretaker, right?” And now it was asking for his confirmation? It truly does want to appease him. He let out another hum, as if he was thinking to himself when he was going to go along with their delusions. “It sounds like Dr. Gaul cares a great deal for you.” He lied to them. 

Making his back to the anterior of the subject’s body, he stood in front of them, the subject tilting their head up to him. Project Prometheus was shorter, in comparison to him, standing at eye level against his chest. Latex touched the area of the linea alba, Coriolanus kept his gaze steady on them and they did the same. There was a silence that fell between them, but it felt so uninviting to him now that he finally had it. The subject still held their indifference, their apathy, and he wanted to know why it bothered him so much when he should like how easy of a prisoner they were being. No, there had to be something more. There was always something more. His fingers dragged down their skin, and his marker followed behind, writing down the names of the muscles he touched. The subject had moved their arms, and Coriolanus tensed for a second, thinking they were finally going to react, going to grab him, hit him, something – yet, their arms shifted away from the angle of his body, moving in to hold the muscles of the pectoralis major up in their hands, cupping them. They were making more room for him to write on their upper abdomen. 

Coriolanus loathed them. 

Had he had half the control, he would’ve smacked the stitched hands away. He liked it far more when they acted like a ragdoll, instead of this game of pacification it was trying to play. Writing down on the external oblique aponeurosis, he brought his hands back up their skin until it rested under their wrists. He held both their wrists on either hand. “Please, bring your hands down so I can continue mapping.” The words came out more as a whisper than he had intended. They instantly had listened to his command, letting their arms fall back on either side and their chest exposed to him. His eyes lingered briefly on the sight, taking in the small details that made the subject unique. The beauty mark on their left mammary gland, now in his line of sight. No longer blocked by the limit of only just a photo. There was that dry feeling in his mouth again. 

Carefully, bringing a hand up, gauging their reaction, he held one of the mammary glands in his free hand and a marker up in the other. Judging their face, they seemed neutral, no frown or smile, no wrinkle, no squint. He could assume there must have been discomfort under those dark pits for eyes. He knew that’s what he felt, doing this right now. Coriolanus wondered if it would have been better or worse, if Project Prometheus were to be more… reactionary. 

“Let me know if anything bothers you.” Dotted lines followed after his hand. He’d take it, the laborious small talk. It was much more preferred right now than this tortuous silence that had fallen between them. Thick and constricting, had it gone on any longer, Coriolanus knew he would drive himself internally insane if he was to be left alone to his own thoughts. If Project Prometheus had done nothing while he was holding onto their very own breasts in his hands. Had it been any other person, they would’ve squirmed under his touch. Possibly even a twitch to unconsciously move away, as the marker moved against the skin of the areola. The mapping of the right gland was dotted and marked completely. 

“You don’t bother me.” 

Now, that felt deliberate. 

Ink halted, stopping after writing out the final letter of the pectoralis minor. The words were written next to the beauty mark he had noted before. Coriolanus was tempted to make dotted lines around the area, as a place of special interest, though marks like these were no major muscle or nerve. Blue eyes had looked up through thick lashes, he slightly lifted his craned head up to get a better look at the subject. Peering towards their face, he didn’t know why he expected anything different. It was the same look of disinterest, the broken lights hung above them casted a haunting shadow over their face. Did he also look similar, when they stared back at him? In certain angles, despite the unnerving look the room had given them, Coriolanus might’ve thought their eyes seemed naturally soft towards him. Innocent, maybe. 

Did they see nothing wrong with what he was doing? … Or had all the tests and operations ruined not just their nerves, but fried them, that their sense of danger seemed near non-existent? 

Was this another form of appeasement that it was trying to pull on him? 

Unconsciously, his hands had released themselves, finally, from holding onto Project’s Prometheus’s breasts. Both now marked, his free hand slid down the expanse of their abdomen. The ridges and bumps of their scars and stitches were felt briefly, the full grasp of the sensation blocked by the barrier of latex rubber wrapped around his fingers. Not once did he look away from the subject as his hands made its way down, and neither did Project Prometheus. His hand stopped at the tensor fasciae latae. Something was wrapping itself around the cavity of his chest, making the activity of breathing a difficult feat for him to do. Coriolanus didn’t know what he was doing. Was he trying to garner a bigger reaction from it? An attempt of possibly stirring violence, even? 

Maybe it was delaying his own discomfort, he realized. Looking down, he stared to see the spread of skin below that had no splotches of black ink. They were shorter than him, he’d have to get down on his knees if he wanted to have clear and easy access to mark its legs. How humiliating… Having risen up through the ranks and bringing the Snow family back to its rightful place of acclaim and fortune; only to fall back down on his knees to a prisoner, a former rebel. If the other families caught wind of this, he’d never hear the end of it. 

Reluctantly, still holding onto their hip, his body moved itself to the floor. Knees touched against the uneven grout of the tiles, the position a bit awkward. He was thankful, for the surgical gown he wore, that the vile floor of the examination room wouldn’t stain against his clothes. Tracing his hand down to the stitch mark path of their leg, he rested it at the back of their thigh. Coriolanus tilted his head up, ready to command that Project Prometheus moved their leg more towards him. But, his words fell into a silent, held breath as he gazed up at them from his position. The shadow that had cascaded over their face briefly from before was now entirely enveloped around their body. Sickly green fluorescent lights shone above their head, akin to a haloing effect. Illuminated around the edges of their body, their hair, the subject still looking at him. Only him, and nothing else. A thrumming noise was loud in his ears; it felt dangerous. It felt like a warning that something was wrong here. He had felt it before.

Project Prometheus moved its leg forward, more into him, without a word ever spoken between the two of them. How pliant it was with him. 

He pressed the marker against their skin as thank you, dipping his head back down to their thigh. It would be risky, if he lost focus. There was still so much he had yet to know of the subject, the layers that were contained behind the flimsy shield of flesh and tissue. He dotted the area of the vastus medialis, careful not to press the ink against the subject’s stitches so as not to irritate the healing skin there. Maybe its attempts of appeasement were working on him. Not once did he think he’d have a shred of enough care to think about the possibility of ink seeping into their wounds. 

He marked down the region of the knee. Patella. 

“...You’re a very gentle person, Dr. Snow.” The subject spoke quietly, in a whisper just loud for him to hear. “You treat me so carefully, I barely feel a thing when you hold me.” 

It mistook his lightweight hands for kindness. Reality was that he was just wary about setting them off. 

“Does Dr. Gaul not treat you in the same manner?” The words came out softly from him. Reaching now the ankle of the subject, gloved hands reached down underneath the sole of its foot, lifting it up for better writing access. Instinctively, Project Prometheus placed their hands on either side of his shoulders so as to not fall. Their body leaned itself more into him, using him as a steady weight of support. The proximity of their small body bent over his, the glare of the fluorescent lights was entirely swallowed up, casting a dark shadow over him, blocking the light from reaching him. Could they feel, under their ragged fingers, the tenseness in his body at their action? If the subject wanted to, they could easily go in to attack him in this vulnerable position. He’d do the same if he was in their position. He continued to write, marker steady in hand. There would be no satisfaction to be gained for the subject, in seeing him stumble and cower. 

He wrote the words ‘abductor hallucis’ on their foot.

“She… does not treat me rough, no. If I had to describe it, I think the word for it is more… ‘inanimate’.” He doesn’t quite recall if a new law was passed that required captors to treat prisoners humanely. It sounded as if it was trying to recall certain words again. Should the exam go entirely smoothly with no problems, he might feel generous enough to convince Dr. Gaul to bring Project Prometheus a dictionary for them to study up on. Not like it would do much. It wasn’t like they had anyone to really practice their knowledge on. 

Coriolanus wondered what the prisoner was exactly before all this, back when they were formerly Capital. They lacked the air of dignity and ignorance that most Capital elites donned well, but maybe that could be attributed to their decay while staying here. Or perhaps the prisoner had come from a small, simple family. The kind that handled all the manual labor that the Capital never liked to speak loud about. The workers who were hardly ever seen, or acknowledged. That could explain why he never heard any recent fuss over a family’s child being ‘sent away’. No one would ever care for a background prop. 

It held onto his shoulders more tightly, as he adjusted the subject’s position. It didn’t want to topple over him. 

Project Prometheus's right foot now marked accordingly, he placed its foot back down on the rotten floor. Ready to reach his hand to hold onto their left, the subject moved without the need for his touch. The left leg was gestured forward for him. How sweet of them to realize a pattern. “I don’t mind it, though. As long as she still talked to me.” How fascinating. The subject was pacified by the easy act of conversation. Such a simple thing to be pleased by, Coriolanus could think they were joking. Regardless of how things were going so far, he still didn’t forget it. The bloodstains on the halls was something he could not erase so easily. That suggested, no, it told him, that Project Prometheus had something up their sleeve still. Though, nothing had occurred. Nothing had happened because they were still speaking to each other. Coriolanus continued to write on its foot. Lumbrical.

“...Do you get upset if she doesn’t speak to you?” 

He couldn’t help but ask. 

He wanted to know. He needed to know. 

“...I get lonely, and sad.” Was it trying to downplay its emotional reactions to him? “I wonder if it's because I did something wrong to upset her.” If a prisoner of his tried to fight back numerous times during their captivity, he’d get annoyed too. It was strange, though. Coriolanus knew that morals and values were of no concern for Dr. Gaul, especially against rebels. Any torture, punishment, placed on them was not seen as being done onto another person, but just another animal, a specimen in her collection. It would not be above Dr. Gaul to cut off a limb, or two, to get a prisoner to stop fighting. So… why not do the same here? Perhaps, this form of mental and emotional punishment was more lethal than he assumed. Another curious test from the mad woman, it was impossible to ever understand her whims. 

“Sometimes, I think it might be one of her tests.”

Coriolanus didn’t say those words. 

He didn’t like this. Such a statement, spoken so simply, brought him a sick swirl of unease. 

The movement of ink had halted, yet his mind continued to race. The thin hairs at the back of his neck stood at its ends, and he held tightly onto the marker in his hand. Quietly, carefully, he placed the plantar surface of Project Prometheus’s foot back down on the uneven tiles below the both of them. Reaching his hands up to his shoulders, where the subject’s extensor retinaculum were, he held onto it firmly. The subject put up no sign of objection. Sweat was slowly building up under the tight material of the gloves he donned on, but it was not a sweltering warmth. It was a cold, clammy sensation. 

“What do you mean by ‘one of her tests’?” Punctuating the words at the end, he kept his tone inquisitive, curious. Perhaps, a dabble of suspicion. Not towards the subject, but more towards the matter. What was needed in this situation was caution, and he’d be a gutted fool if he was to let the rebel become aware of how much the question startled him to his core. For right now, he’d play the gentle, confused assistant that it assumed of him before. He already told the lie of it knowing Dr. Gaul better than he did. 

“Her tests,” 

It spoke as if he knew! He knew very well what it was. What once was a flash of fear, had become a steady stream of anger. He knew because he is Dr. Gaul’s assistant. It was his job to follow in the steps she’s placed out for him, and more. Why would a prisoner, a subject, know about the ways Dr. Gaul operated? How much does Dr. Gaul tell it in these ‘conversations’? 

It made him sick, that the lie he told before could actually become true. 

“I never notice it until it’s done, until she tells me at the end. She never shares the results with me.” For once, he is tempted to strip his pride and beg for more details. “Most days, it’ll be physical tests, like today. Others, it’s more… talking, or writing.” 

“Writing?” 

It came out quickly before he could properly think his words over. He doesn’t recall seeing possible writing exams in Subject A01’s report. To be fair to himself, he did skim it briefly since he was only just now introduced to the project. There wasn’t much time for him to familiarize himself with all the tiny details written inside. At least, the things that were legible. 

“Dr. Gaul hands me scraps of paper and just asks me to write what I think. Like uh, a journal…I guess.” Keeping a diary couldn’t be the only test Dr. Gaul was having it do. If writing random streams of thought was enough to be intellectually challenging, he wouldn’t be seeing students at the University fighting to win passing grades. “I don’t understand the reason why, and I never remember what I write. My memory is not the best.” It was giving him an excuse to try and shift the conversation. How funny it was, trying to take control of the situation. He’d never let such a thing happen. In this examination room, there was only one person and a subject, the dynamic that was at play was clear. The grip Coriolanus had on their extensor retinaculum tightened, an unconscious movement on his part. Project Prometheus had taken in a soft breath of air at the action, the sound loud enough between the both of them. Had it not come from a prisoner, what a sweet sound it could’ve been. 

“Could you explain it to me,” His voice came out softly, despite the gnawing irritation that he held back. The tight grasp he had loosened, one hand stroking down a careful thumb down the stitched wrist of the subject in gentle circles. He shifted in his kneeled position, adjusting to a more comfortable weight as the layers he wore started to wear at him, an uncomfortable shift. Wearing the surgical uniform could be sweltering. Tilting his head up slightly to gaze up at the subject, praying that his eyes did not betray and reveal his inner thoughts. “Try to remember.” 

Coriolanus could’ve sworn he saw a slight falter, a tremble, in the dark optics of Project Prometheus. Its supercilium furrowed just the slightest inch upwards; did it look apologetic? The first visible change of expression he’s witnessed in the time he’s spent here in this examination room, and it’s one of regret. The subject’s fingers twisted itself into the fabric of his surgical gown, opening its mouth partially as they sought the right sound, the right word. He could make out the faint peeks of its canines. 

“... I’m sorry, Dr. Snow. I can’t remember at all,” They breathed out, in admission, surrendering. It treated it as a guilty confession. 

“Not a thing?” He whispered softly to them, prompting them to speak more. Coriolanus applauded himself internally, for how sympathetic he sounded. 

The subject shook its head. 

“My memory is not good.” Again, it reaffirmed its previous statement. 

Was his question that hard? Surely, specks of small details, flashes of imagery, that would be sufficient enough of an answer for him. He wasn’t asking for a full essay of their inner workings ( though, he wouldn’t mind it ). However, as both their eyes continued locked in a stare, his thumb slowed its movements. The leathered finger stopping at the center junction of its stitches, the feel of the raised, textured skin apparent under the feel of the material. Project Prometheus was being sincere. Its face hadn’t changed, its body had not moved away from him. Dare he say, the minimal space between them; something he did not mind earlier before, had become much more apparent in his feverish mind. The subject answered him so honestly, it made his suspicions of before seem so ridiculous now. One thing did nag at him though, the writing, the insistence of journaling, the memory. 

…

“... Do you remember how long you’ve been here?” Two years ago, Coriolanus recalled. Two years ago, that was when he was abandoned in District 12. When Dr. Gaul had started the experiment on Subject A01, busying herself with curiosities while he was drowning himself in depravities and vices, waiting out like a dog for some form of mercy to reach him. 

A new, tense silence consumed them both. He watched the subject carefully, taking note of the slightest movement that could give any indication of anything more. Tracing with his eyes, following how Project Prometheus’s cuspid snagged at their chapped bottom lip. A faint flush of red spread across the muscle, from the pressure exerted on it. Unconsciously, it reminded him of how dry his own mouth felt, the hoarse sensation in his throat. He darted out his own tongue for a brief moment to wet his own mouth, hidden underneath the surgical mask he wore. Nothing was being said between them, but yet there was so much being told. A fierce feeling was soaring, running through the veins of Coriolanus; he knew what it meant and he feared for it. Not for what the answer could be, but what it possibly could bring up. 

“You don’t remember how you got it here at all, do you?” His voice was so hushed, spoken as if taboo. It gave him the same feeling of it, the rush as the blood was entering his head and his heartbeat loud in his ears. 

A form of dissociative amnesia. 

Project Prometheus had developed gaps in memory due to an extended amount of isolation and exposure to severe trauma. It all clicked in Coriolanus’s head. He understood now what Dr. Gaul was attempting to achieve in her games with the subject. The tests, the daily conversations, the journal writing – Dr. Gaul was examining the subject’s mental decay as part of the Project’s ongoing research. Not only has the woman deteriorated and changed the way the prisoner’s nerves had worked, but their mind as well. Is continuing the Project even viable to do anymore? It was a form of punishment. Would it be ethical to operate on a being of flesh, when the subject no longer knew what it was being punished for? The question would most likely give Dr. Gaul a kick of joy. She loved to ponder questions worthy of debate. Coriolanus wouldn’t put it past the woman if she already gave the inquiry out to one of her classes in a lecture hall. 

“I vaguely do,” 

His eyebrows rose in interest. 

“But only in subtle feelings.” 

Nevermind. 

“I think I experienced some form of confusion. And bits of anger, too. Dr. Gaul… For a moment, I used to be so scared of her. Now, I can’t even remember the reason why.” 

Project Prometheus’s indifference, Coriolanus realized, it was not just solely based on apathy. What had become of it was a blank state, unsure of how to process things so the mind refused to process it all. But, it was still something highly susceptible to influences, shown in how Project Prometheus had become conditioned like Pavolv Dog, to associate Dr. Gaul’s silence with anger and disappointment, and her socialness with satisfaction and joy. It all was dawning on him. He could see it now, why Dr. Gaul was so disturbingly fascinated by this project. Gloved hands moved away from the subject’s wrist, and reached out to lay in gentle manner against the side of their bare thighs. The subject allowed him to, never raising a sign of objection. Could he teach it to experience anger once more, when he treated their body like this? Maybe discomfort, disgust, despair - he wanted to show their blank canvas of a mind what it felt like to fully immerse themselves in these ugly emotions. He knew why they were like this, but there still was a lingering crumb of vexation directed at the subject. Somehow, in their newfound state, they still felt far more free than he ever did; how they almost felt nothing, and he had to feel everything. 

And yet, there was another thought that touched him. He wondered, if he spent enough time with the subject, could he too, be able to condition them to other things. They thought of him as merciful, kind, in comparison to Dr. Gaul. Could he make Project Prometheus worship him, and in the same quiet breaths they were fond of, resent him? The thought of making them accustomed to anticipating his attendance, and lamenting his absence sounded tempting. 

How nice it would be, to have someone other than a deranged crone enjoy his presence. 

Tigris certainly didn’t anymore. 

Coriolanus rose himself from the ground, gripping on the meat of Project’s Prometheus’s flesh to lift him. Under his touch, the pliant stretch of skin and tissue made the subject remove their hands from his shoulders. Another faint breath escaped their exhale. It was a sound he was slowly getting used to. Back to their original height difference, he no longer had to crane his head up to look at the subject. The subject had to lift their head up to look up at him, now. What did Project Prometheus see, in their gaze as they stared at him, Coriolanus thought. Was he too, consumed in shadow and bathed under the gritty lights of the examination room like they once had? 

“We’re done with the mark-up.” It took him a moment to move away from the subject. “We’ll move to holding the nerve exam now, after I administer a low dosage of your medication.” 

The uncapped, black marker was placed back down on the metal tray, aside from the examination table. Replacing its empty space was now the syringe he had filled out before, the dark color swishing as he picked it up. The needle gleamed under the fluorescent light. Turning his back around, Project Prometheus had already sat themselves up nicely on the edge of the examination table for him. Their legs dangled off, their hands held at the edges of the worn-out leather cushion, eyes fixated on his person. They were waiting for him. He’s almost bothered, how easily the subject could anticipate his next set of commands. He hoped that this was just due to routine, not because he had become easy to read. Coming up to meet them there, the only sound that filled the air was the sole of his shoes stepping against the tiles. Gloved fingers reached to grab at the jaw of Project Prometheus, the syringe held close to their face. It shone particularly brilliant, mere inches away from their face. The subject showed him no fear, no resistance, despite the way the skin of the cheeks had moved under his grasp. 

Already, he wanted to break them.

“Show me where to inject you.” 

He’d be sweet, Coriolanus would let them pick where it was most comfortable for him to inject the medication in. Project Prometheus complied immediately to him, holding on the hand that held their needle to adjust the position. They guided him to the back of their neck, moving their hair to make space. To reward their compliance, he pricked the syringe quickly under the skin, careful not to touch an artery or nerve. The dark liquid inside the barrel slowly filled out, emptying itself as he pushed the plunger down. The subject did not let out a sound, a favorable contrast to Livia, who waited for him outside these Citadel walls. 

He was going to mold them into something useful.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosas fic #thg series #thg fic #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #volumnia gaul #tw medical #medical horror #fanfic #.// ♡ basil's archive #. // ♡ rubatosis series #its insane how much i wrote for this first chapter lmao #its like 30 pages on google docs #i am obsessed with this man #i really wanted this chapter to be a focus of snow & reader building their dynamic and bond before we jump off the deep end #i am really excited to write the coming chapters

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#395

“Hey Bobby, I’m glad you came.  C’mon in.  Yeah, my wood shop is grown over a bit.  I was hoping you would help me bring it back.  Watch your step….  Let me get the door behind you….

“…Well, this is a bit awkward.  I guess I will go ahead.  When I saw you open the door to the stall next to me, I was just as shocked as you were.  I never expected the mouth on the other side of that glory hole that throated my fat dick with expertise to be you. 

“I’ve known you since your mom brought you home from the hospital.  Your dad and I used to go fishing together.  I never would have guessed.

“But then, ever since Beth passed away 9 years ago, I really haven’t done anything with anybody.  You are what 16?...  19 really?  Well, at least you’re not jailbait anymore.  I’ve seen you in town a few times throughout the years, but you have grown into a man….  And you are a damned good cocksucker too.

“Where did you learn to suck dick like that?...  From that glory hole?  Seriously?  That glory hole on the interstate is only a year old.  …Two years? 

“…Wait, you’re the one who put it in?  Well damn boy, where did you get the idea?  …From the internet?  Damn! 

“When I first saw it, I stuck my cock through to see if I would fit.  I did.  It was freshly done, as it still had jagged edges to it.  No one was on the other side.  So instead of just waiting, I went to my truck and got some sandpaper.  I was sitting on the one side for an hour before a mouth finally came in.  My dick slid through that hole so nicely.

“I don’t go there that often.  Most faggots don’t know what to do with a fat cock like mine.  But you do.  I let you go for fifteen or twenty minutes.  It felt good.  Real good.  I haven’t had a talented mouth on it in a long time. 

“When I finished, I waited to see who it was.  I was thinking that if it was local, I wanted to get something going on the side, something kinda convenient with a local fag.  Imagine my surprise when the faggot turned out to be you.

“…That’s not right.  I shouldn’t call you a faggot; it’s not nice….

“…Wait a minute.  But that’s what you are.  Nothing wrong with that in my eyes.  I had a faggot in the city I used to use regularly until he moved out east.  He was a reseller of my woodwork.  I used him every time I made a delivery on Sundays.  I would deliver on Sundays when he was the only one in his warehouse, and he would greet me naked.  All the time I was there, he waited on me.  And whenever I was horny, he was there to take me in his holes.

“How would you like to suck my dick?  I’m horny now.  And your mouth looks inviting.

“Good.  I want you to strip naked.  Don’t worry.  You are the first person in here in five or six years.  Nobody is going to come by.  I assume your parents don’t know.  They probably would have thrown you out if they had. 

“You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone.  I don’t intend on ruining a good thing.

“How often do you go to the glory hole?...  You certainly are a horn dog.  I like that.  I would like my cock to be taken care of just as often. 

“Remember this dick?  It definitely remembers your mouth.

“…Well aren’t you a pretty one.  No need to cover up.  I’m not interested in your pecker at all. 

“Get on your knees, open your mouth, stick out your tongue, and look up at me.  Now that’s the look of a hungry faggot. 

“No. No.  I said I’m not interested in your pecker.  Leave it alone.  You can jerk off when you get home.  When you are here naked in my shop, you have to realize that there is only one cock here that matters, and it sure as hell ain’t yours.  You understand that faggot?

“…Good!  Now suck!  There you go!  There’s that tongue….  Ahhh.  This is why, when I went to your dad’s barber shop for a trim the other day, I told him that I was looking for someone to help me fix this place up.  He suggested you, like I knew he was going to.

“And here you are.  Fuck.  Your fucking mouth is mine.  The best part of not being at the glory hole is that I can hold your head like this.  Take it!  Take it all the way down.  I’m gonna look forward to using this throat every day.

“Yeah, you got the job faggot.  Don’t worry you’ll be paid well, and I’m not just saying in cum.  Everybody will think that Bobby Reynolds is my new apprentice.  But every morning when you walk in that door naked you are my faggot to use, however I want.

“You understand that faggot?  Nod or shake your head.  Atta boy.

“Right to the root.  Try to breathe around it.  Oh fuck! This is better than the glory hole.  I can control the blowjob.  I can feel your throat struggling to throat my dick.  I have a faggot on his knees, bare-assed ready to do whatever I tell him. 

“Speaking of that ass.  Take a moment there to catch your breath while I look at your pussy.  Stand up and come over to the shop table.  You get fucked at the glory hole as well?

“No.  I guess the situation doesn’t lend to it.  When was the last time you had a cock in here?...  Never?  You mean you are still virgin back there?

“Fuck yeah.  Wasn’t expecting to pop a cherry today, but damn, it’s turning out to be a great day.  Hop up on the table.

“No. No.  This IS happening.  I’m going to cunt you.  On the table son.

“Throughout the day, in between you doing actual work, my cock is going inside your holes whenever I want.  Both holes.  I’m not going to even ask you first.  I’ll push you to your knees or bend you over.  This is what I did to the shop owner in the city, and I liked it. 

“On your back.  Let me lower the table…. Legs up!  Rest them on my shoulders.  It’s a good thing you put a lot of throat slime on my dick.  If you relax your hole and push out a little bit there will be less pain.

“Look up at me.  I want to see the pain in your eyes, and your struggle across your face.

“Oh! That’s my head.  Relax your whole body….  I’m halfway in.  Relax.  I’m going to be in here for some time.  I can go for hours if I want to.  Just go with it. 

“There you go!  Surrendering this hole to me is going to be your number one job responsibility around here. 

“Look at me.  You’re doing fine.  It’s going to get more intense.  I need to turn this into a cunt.  I need to get you to the point that your hole can take me at any moment. 

“If you want, you can unbutton my shirt and run your hands over my hairy chest.  Don’t ignore my nipples.  Be gentle with them.

“You ready faggot?  Yesterday you were the son of good neighbors down the road, but after today, you will be my cunt.  You ready to become that?

“Faggot here we go.”

[fiapartridge]

REQUEST tbh idk how ur request work but I have an idea

Going to one of Luke’s games but it’s Toronto vs NJ and wearing a maple lefes jersey

And luke sees her and is banging on the glass to get ur attention and is like “off now”

Idk this idea popped in my head lmao

R U Mine? | luke hughes

"all i ever wanna say is, 'are you mine?'"

luke hughes x reader

summary: you wear a toronto maple leafs jersey to luke’s game and he can't help but wish you were wearing his...

warning(s): cursing

hiii @bibella8swan <3 hope u like mitch marner, if not, just imagine someone else LMAO + i really need to make a navigation with like a proper request/prompt system, im tryna be a pro tumblr writer gal

You loved Mitch Marner, like loved him. 

Having grown up in Toronto, your family loved hockey just as much as the next family— which was a lot. They watched every single Leafs game, went to every single Leafs signing, and they even had a shrine of Leafs memorabilia in your parents’ home office. To say they liked the Leafs was an understatement (honestly, they would probably tackle you if you said that)— they were obsessed. 

Luke knew you loved the Leafs. I mean, he lived next door to you for a good chunk of his life, how could he not know? It wasn’t like you were sporting all things Leafs whenever you were with him, but Luke paid enough attention to notice your dedicated Mitch Marner Pinterest boards and your number 16 lockscreen. Though you rarely ever said it out loud (honestly, I don’t think you’ve ever told Luke, let alone anyone else, about your love for Mitch), Luke knew— because Luke knew you. He noticed the little things, like the way you always needed to carry around a lint roller in your bag because you just knew there would be unwanted lint wherever you end up going, or the way you laughed at everything, even bad jokes, because you hated silence even more. 

When he moved to Michigan, you were scared that things were going to change between the two of you, but it never did. He was still your best friend, and you were still his. When he found out you were moving to New Jersey for college, he was ecstatic given that he had just gotten drafted to the Devils. 

Getting to spend more time with his best friend? It was the best news he had ever been given. Luke started planning out your guys’ lives in New Jersey the second you told him about your plans. Maybe you guys could share an apartment instead of him sharing one with Jack, and maybe you could go to all of his home games and cheer him on in the stands? 

Luke moved to New Jersey after Michigan’s loss in the Frozen Four, and while it was a bitter moment, knowing that he was finally going to see you made it not so terrible. 

When Luke arrived in New Jersey, it was like nothing had changed. The two of you spent every single day together, and there wasn’t a single moment when you guys weren’t laughing, or making fun of each other while laughing. You even got an apartment with him, just like he had planned. It was perfect. Maybe that was when Luke understood that his love for you was way beyond just friendship. Luke loved you. Quinn said that Luke had fallen in love with you the moment he saw you, but he just wasn’t bright enough to see it— I guess college did teach him a couple of things. 

After a few more months of living together, Jack had finally managed to slap some sense into the both of you after finding out that you were both going on Tinder dates and that none of you were happy. In fact, you two were miserable. Every single time you watched the other person walk out that front door in nice clothes and high expectations, you felt some part of yourself crumble to pieces. 

You hated the thought of someone getting to hold Luke’s hand or cuddle into his side, or even get the chance to kiss him. You had known Luke your entire life and some random girl from some stupid app that he had known for, what? An hour? Got to get closer to him than you? You hated that, and little did you know, Luke hated that, too.

Which brought you to where you were now: at Luke’s game against the Toronto Maple Leafs. 

You slipped into the front row, sitting beside Ryleigh and Brooke, as you got the most perfect view of Luke as he and the rest of the Devils skated onto the ice for warmups before the game. You were engaged in conversation with Brooke when you felt Ryleigh tap your shoulder repeatedly. Whipping your head in her direction, she pointed to the glass and said, “I think someone’s trying to get your attention,” she laughed. 

When you looked toward the glass, you saw Luke banging against the clear pane. You were confused, to say the least. It wasn’t unusual for Luke to give you some sort of attention during warmups, like a simple wave, or a small smile, but for him to be banging on the glass? It had to be important. 

“Off," he nodded his head at you. "Now.”

You furrowed your brows. What was he talking about? You squinted your eyes, signaling that you had no idea as to what he was referring to. 

Luke pinched his jersey, pulling it up and down, and you immediately knew what it was. You were wearing a Marner jersey. What did he think was going to happen? The love of your life was on that ice— of course you were going to wear his jersey! But then again, the love of your life was banging on the glass, getting a million stares from Devils fans and Leafs fans alike, just so he could gain some comfort knowing that you were in that crowd, wearing his jersey. 

You didn’t quite understand that, though. You wondered why it was so important to Luke. I mean, you wore his jersey to every single home game. It was one game against a team you loved. What was the big deal?

You shrugged him off, shooing him to go back to the others when you heard the siren go off, signaling that it was time for the game to start. He shook his head and skated off to the Devils’ bench. 

The first period was… definitely something.

Luke got the puck a lot, but he also missed the puck… a lot. He skated around the ice like a lost puppy, and you bit your nails, wondering if it really was the jersey that was bothering him. It didn’t seem like a big deal to you. You’ve loved Mitch Marner since the concept of crushes even came to you. The Maple Leafs were your team. What was so wrong with that?

During the intermission, you sprang out of your seat and marched over to the direction of the locker rooms. The Rock was like a second home to you. You knew the place like the back of your hand which made it so much easier to get to Luke— because you needed to get to Luke before the second period started. You needed to know why it was taking such a toll on him. 

When you walked towards the hall of the locker rooms, your eyes met Luke’s and he immediately ran over to you, or rather hobbled to you, on his skates. On his way over, his right hand fished for the bottom of his jersey as he pulled it over his head in one clean motion. God, it was the hottest thing you had ever seen. 

“Take this,” he said, still out of breath from the game. 

You shook your head. “That thing is full of sweat, Luke.”

“Then let me grab you a clean one from my stall,” he suggested before turning around.

You scoffed, grabbing his wrist and swiveling him back towards you. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

You rolled your eyes. “The last time you said that, you were pissed off that Jack got the last slice of pizza and the next time you got pizza, you added olives because you knew Jack hated them. It’s not nothing, Luke.”

He looked everywhere but you, because he knew you’d read him like a magazine. He knew that he could never hide a single thing from you, because just as he had paid attention to you, you had paid attention to him. You knew him, and deep down, you knew why the jersey was such a big deal to Luke, but you wanted to hear him say it. 

You wanted Luke to call you his. 

His shoulders relaxed for the first time since intermission started, and his eyes finally met yours. “I know you love Mitch. You always have, and that’s never been a problem, and it never will be, but… I wanted you to pick me.”

You narrowed your brows, stepped closer to the boy you loved so much, and you whispered almost tauntingly, “Why should I pick you?”

He bent down, held the sides of your face, and crinkled his eyes in nothing but cringe. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Gosh, I think Mitch is calling my name,” you frowned. 

He shook his head, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “For some fucking reason, I love you, Y/N, and I want you to wear my jersey, I’m begging you to wear my jersey, because as selfish as this sounds, I need to know that you’re not Marner’s, and you’re not the Leafs’ — you’re mine. I want you… to be mine.”

Your face broke into a bright smile. “Fucking finally,” you laughed, pushing him off of you and towards the locker room. “Give me the damn jersey, Hughes, intermission ends in seven! Also,” you pulled him back. “I love you, too.”

#hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #nj devils #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes imagines

[formosusiniquis]

diana prince and stevie h.: variations on a theme

Inspired by this post by @secondconcussion cause I saw it earlier this week and couldn't stop turning it around in my mind

also on ao3 for easier reading

It's not Eddie's fault he got lost.

That's the first thing he wants to get out of the way. He'll take his lumps if he has to, Uncle Wayne can be a surly fucker when he's woken up before his alarm, "Not all those who wander are lost, Ed, isn't that what you said. Just wander your way back home." But Eddie's heart is gonna wait to be warmed that Wayne loves him enough to quote Lord of the Rings until after he's back in the part of Hawkins he recognizes.

"It's the ‘not all’ that I need you to wrap your head around old man, cause I, your dearest nephew, am very lost."

"Your my only nephew, and gettin' less dear by the second," Wayne lied like a liar.

He wasn't above begging, not when he'd already walked fuck knows how far to fuck knows where. "Please, Wayne!"

He hears a grumbled sigh and knows he's won, "Where are ya?"

"Um, woods?" He can hear the thunk of the phone being slammed against something hard, but at least Wayne doesn't hang up.

Hawkins is a small town, by Eddie's standards, but it expands in strange ways. Every summer he spent with Wayne it seemed to unfurl in different directions, a flower blooming a little different each year. It was not the gridded out cityscape he'd grown up in.

So when Eddie came down from Indy every summer to escape parents who managed to toe the line of awful just well enough that CPS kept their noses out of the Munson’s business, he would wander but never far. Just far enough to find the park and the playground that Wayne hadn't thought to mention. Far enough to find a corner store where he can pocket the extra candy bar he couldn't afford with the spare change he had -- and he wasn't going to put back the magazine he was buying, Wayne had nothing good to read and he couldn't make a library card yet. Far enough to find an abandoned picnic bench to smoke up at so his borrowed bedroom didn't smell like weed. Far enough to make some friends.

Only now that he's twenty, and some change. Now that he's graduated high school, third time lucky. Now that he’s decided to leave the trouble he could feel stirring in the city for someplace that always felt more like home. Now that he is an official Hawkins resident, he's wandered a little too far.

And it's not his fault, but he's not gonna tell Wayne that.

Cause the thing is, Eddie has always thought better when his feet were moving. After an hour of pacing around his trailer, still full with half unpacked boxes of things he hadn't realized he'd collected -- boxes that make him feel like a caged animal, that he'll be living out of for the next two months at least -- he has to leave. His first mistake, trusting that his feet will lead him around the parts of Hawkins he knows.

His mind twists plot hooks and campaign NPCs around his head, determined to get ready for when his friends come around later that afternoon with the pack of freshmen, now sophomores, that they'd adopted. He won't apologize for wanting to impress a new group of kids and wanting to convince Jeff he wouldn’t be sorry about passing off his DM mantle to a guy they used to only see two months out of the year. As he's thinking about a sect of female warriors -- a mix of barbarians and rangers, buff and leveled way above where the party will be -- and whether it'll just come across as horny the way the DILF-y elven mages he'd tried to include last year did, he sees her. Notices her, more like; a nymph, a dryad, a goddess sprung fully formed from his imaginings.

She crosses his path at a light jog. The shortest green athletic shorts he's ever seen clinging to the shape of an ass he could bounce a quarter off of. He can see the way her broad and muscled shoulders shift beneath the white sports bra she's wearing. It's the cool down portion of her workout, he guesses, from the way he can mostly maintain the small distance between them and the way sweat runs in rivulets down her back and trim waist. He wants to lick it off of her. She looks like she was built to fire a bow or break him in half, a Kinsey Five, it's the women who could kill him that always capture his attention.

He trails behind her, mind still turning over his session prep for the day and maybe thinking a little bit about whether she had a boyfriend. Hindsight will grant him that it's weird, the way he trailed behind her like a stray dog like this. But then, as he's sitting in the cab of Wayne's truck, he'll remember the way her thick, muscled thighs moved, how she bounced on the balls of her toes. He'll remember the way her ponytail swished over her shoulder as she glanced back at him, his first look at the lady's fair face, the way she'd smirked at him before bounding off of the roadside into the woods.

So totally not his fault he got lost. It probably happens all the time. The payphone on the opposite side of the road for sorry suckers like him who fall into her snare. Shit, maybe he should have stayed put, he hadn’t been thinking about why she might have a snare.

Wayne found him eventually, even if he spent the drive back to Forest Hills muttering about how Eddie had even found his way over to that side of town. How next time he aimed to get lost he should bring a map or a compass or a dog, and find his own way back. So he doesn’t ask his uncle about the mystery girl that could snap him over her knee like a dry twig, cause in the mood he’s in right now Wayne might go find her and embarrass the hell out of him.

Later, when Jeff and Gareth and Joey have piled onto the broken in couch that Wayne had given him. When the first teen that he doesn’t know knocks a little too quietly on his door, but grins wide enough to split his face that they’ve got a new campaign and a place to play over the summer. When they’re waiting for the last one to arrive, Eddie thinks about asking about her. She had to have overlapped with them in high school for at least a year or two.

Eddie knows already though that he won’t. Plus there’s a chance they’ll tell him anyway. He’s been on the receiving end of enough ‘Is that supposed to be Ronnie James Dio’s’ and ‘Wait are you describing Sigourney Weaver’s’ to hope that once he starts describing the Amazonian warrior who will hopefully be haunting his dreams he’ll get a ‘Doesn’t that sound just like…’

And yeah, maybe he’s starting to get a little impatient. But with the way he’s got the campaign laid out it will be at least two hours in before he gets a chance to describe her. At least, and he has to know who she is tonight.

“Dude,” Gareth starts, probably sick of the way Eddie’s bouncing his leg, “where’s Dustin?”

Will, the quietest so far of the new recruits looks almost too concerned, “He knows where it is right? Has anyone-”

Sinclair, he thinks the group arrived in mass and he’s not sure he’s partnered faces with the rush of names correctly just yet, pulls a walkie talkie with bells and whistles he didn’t even know you could attach from a backpack on the floor. “Dustin, come in, what’s your ETA?”

The tension in their corner of the room ratchets up enough to have Eddie’s palms start to sweat. Will brings his thumbnail up to his mouth, worrying it enough that it’s sure to start bleeding soon. “I’m sure it’s-” Sinclair starts to say, interrupted by a clattering outside then a bang to his door that yanks on the frayed edges of Eddie’s nerves.

He feels a little like a squirrel trying to cross a highway, the way the babies about to join the party are watching him with the knowing terror you watch something about to die.

Except the thing at his door is not Jason or Freddy, it’s a half-pint with a white hat pulled low over his head. The missing Dustin, who has no problem bullying his way through Eddie’s now open door.

“Ew, dude, why are you sweaty?”

"Because, Michael, I had to bike all the way across town." Eddie, and it looks like half the group, is about to ask some variation on why when Dustin holds up a hand shutting them all up masterfully "Because," he stresses each letter like they're what's wronged him, "five minutes before we were supposed to leave mom catches Stevie gossiping with Robin and she totally flips out about how she didn't take Stevie in just to watch her get herself killed. And then when I asked who was taking me here, Ma said she 'didn't buy me that bike just to have it sit in the garage!'"

The kid is incensed so it doesn't feel like the time to ask what the fuck is going on. Not when everyone else snorts and snickers at Dustin's expense. "Damn Stevie really fucked up if Dustybun got sent out on his own," Gareth jeers.

"Your mom does know what Stevie keeps in her trunk right? And she ruptured Preston's balls when he grabbed her ass last year," Lucas points out.

Hawkins, Eddie is learning, might just be full of girls to fall in love with.

"Stop saying that like it's hot, that's my sister you're talking about. I'll tell Max."

"Max still thinks Stevie's hot, dude."

"Are we gonna have to walk home just because Stevie's done something stupid again?" Mike complains.

"You didn't care about Stevie doing something dumb when she climbed that tree in heels to get you down after you got drunk at winter formal. Or when she took her bat to those… things." Lucas shares a sly grin with Will, who looks torn between feeling awkward at the inclusion and the teenage bloodlust for giving your friends a hard time. "You can just admit you feel weird about having the same taste as your-"

"Oh my god!" Dustin shouts cutting Lucas off and sending the room, Eddie included into a burst of snorting laughter. "Dustin Henderson," Eddie gets himself under control enough to accept the offered hand, "excited to have a DM who isn't a total asshole."

"Eddie, sorry about your hot sister. Not sorry for being a new kind of asshole Dungeon Master. Let’s see them character sheets, kiddies, this ain’t your mommy’s book club, we aren’t just here to gossip.”

Things go off pretty well, for a seven person table where he barely knows half the players. Lucas has an impressive tactical mind, Mike is a passionate role player, Will has a character built so well it’s basically an art form, and Dustin is a wild card who can’t decide whether he wants to win or to walk into the obvious trap just to see what will happen. It’s not hard to adjust, even if the way Jeff keeps looking at him when he describes new NPC's is throwing him off his game a little bit. He can duck behind his DM screen and recollect himself, but seriously what the fuck.

“She stands taller than the tallest of you, bronzed skin and hair, imperious, she looks at you, Sir Jeffrey, and offers you a deal, ‘Best our strongest warrior and you can take him back with you. Fail and his impunity will be punished by death.’” He lets the threat hang heavy in the air, all eyes on him and desperately hanging on to every word. Minus Jeff who was giving him that look again. “And that’s where we’ll end things this week, boys.” Cause he really, really hadn’t expected any of them to just straight up steal the enchanted bow of the Amazons that they needed to fell the dragon; and he really, really hadn’t planned for the botched stealth rolls.

Everyone grumbles as they pack up their things, it’s music to his ears. A four hour session -- if he didn’t count the hour they riffed about character builds and backstory once Eddie had his hands on their sheets -- and they’re still itching for more. It’s almost enough to have him just call a dinner break, so he can hole up in his room and churn something out. But someone is beating out shave and a haircut on his front door before he can change his mind.

“It’s probably Wayne getting revenge,” Eddie says, “woke him up early this afternoon.” He taps back his two bits, swinging open the door, expecting to see Wayne’s smug looking face grinning back at him. He’ll take his ‘Don’t feel too good getting interrupted in the middle a something, does it?’ with grace.

Only instead of an old man with two days of scruff, the door opens on his modern day Aphrodite. A worn, grey athletic shirt bragging about being a 1985 Hawkins Swim Team Region Champ has covered the white sports bra, cropped it shows off a distracting sliver of toned stomach above a short green tennis skirt, and her perky ponytail is down in loose waves around a mole kissed face.

And he’s gaping like a fucking idiot at her.

“Dust, wanna introduce me to your new friend?” she asks, voice bourbon smooth as molten eyes rake down his body from the doorway.

“Eddie, this is my sister.”

Like her brother before her, Stevie has no problem shouldering her way through the door. Where Dustin had slipped through on a size difference technicality like a halfling, she places a warm hand against his shoulder and gently pushes until his feet and brain get it together enough to move with her. Even then they’re still screaming, god he’s positive she could have just picked him up. He really wants her to pick him up, maybe push him against the wall a little.

“Hi Eddie,” she says. Still in the doorway they’re hedged in by boxes marked ‘Kitchen Shit’ and ‘Unpack this first asshole’ breathing the same air almost, all because Eddie in his genius had dropped the last load of stuff from the back of the van right by the door. “Are we going to be seeing more of you around?”

“Obviously,” Dustin cuts in, “we only just finished the start of a totally epic campaign.”

“Obviously,” Stevie repeats, with a mocking tilt to her gorgeous smile. One he recognizes from this morning.

Jeff is still watching him, a set of eyes boring hard into the side of his face. “Eddie just moved to Hawkins, just spent summers here before.”

Something about that softens her. Her expression, her posture, easing into something a little less coiled to pounce but no less flirtatious. “To Hawkins?”

Shit, and she’s looking at him like he’s an idiot; but like a cute idiot that she’ll maybe want to put down on his knees. “Well the best band I ever played with is still in high school here, and a success story always sounds better coming out of a small town.”

“You’re in a band, huh?”

Dustin wrestles himself in the middle again, and it says a lot about his tenacity that he’s managed to rock Stevie back against the cardboard. “Whatever this is, I don’t like it and it needs to stop.”

“Load your bike up in the trunk then, shithead, and you won’t have to see it,” she fires back. He does push past her out the door, trying to let it slam shut behind him when she catches it in lightning fast reflex, “Scratch the paint cause you’re being a dick and your ass is grass!”

The rest of the sophomores are slow to pack up their remaining things, valuing gossip more than trying to comfort their friend on losing another soldier in the war of ‘thinks his big sister is the babest babe to ever hit Hawkins.’ 

“You should come to practice some time, band practice, for the um band."

Somebody behind him snorts, hears a whispered, "For the um band," that's probably meant to be a mimicry of him.

"Eddie's lead guitar," Jeff says, from a place of true friendship or pity. It's hard to tell.

Her eyes light up with a mischief, hair swinging as she cocks her head, and he can hear the requisite, ‘wow you must be so good with your hands,’ as clearly as if she had said it. Instead she says, “Gremlins, go get in the car. Tell Dustin, Ma’s pissed he didn't take his helmet and he should know first hand the dangers of head trauma.” It’s an inside joke, an unfunny one, from the way she grins as they grumble and groan and tell her to fuck off. Trooping out the door between him and Stevie they each let her pat them on the back or ruffle their hair, a little attendance check on the way to the car.

The trailer door shuts behind them with a slam, maybe not an attitude issue then and something to add to his to do list, but Stevie hasn’t left with them. “If you’re interested in what Hawkins has to offer, I could show you around.” She says casually. Conversationally. A comment for the room at large before she leans into Eddie’s space, warm breath against the side of his face making him shiver as she whispers, “I take the same run through town every day, and I always wanted a puppy to follow me home.”

Eddie is lost. In visions of the girl who just twirled out of his place on her heel after completely rocking his world. Has lost. His mind, his heart, and hopefully his status as single. But there are worse things he can think of than being lost in Hawkins.

#steddie #transfem steve harrington #stevie harrington #steve henderson #hopefully this is kinda what you were looking for? #i was inspired #stevie and robin were of course gossiping about the cute guy that was following her #and claudia correctly lost her mind #ambiguous presence of the upside down #which has warped stevie's sense of danger #my fic

[wifey-badalee]

ALL I NEEDED WAS A LITTLE LOVE AND AFFECTION,WAS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?

How it started!

When I was six when I noticed my mom never really payed attention to me Ike other mom with my friend’s ,it made me question her as to why?

“Mom why don’t you love me the way my friends moms do? You never hold me and cuddle me like they do. What’s wrong with me?” “ Oh , I don’t know what you want me to say those are your friends moms I’m your mom we aren’t the same”, she said. I guess she is right not all moms are the same I’m just overreacting,I know she loves me a lot…..right?

MY FIRST DAY OF GRADE 1!

“Mom I’m so excited for my first day ,I hope I make a lot of friends and have a lot of fun since I’m a big girl now I can go out and play a lot with my new friends right?”

“Yea atleast you won’t be such a burden anymore bugging me to play with you,” she said.

“U-uhm yea I guess so I’ll be occupied with my new friends.” Little did I know making friends isn’t so easy

“OK we’re here get out quickly before you’re late,” moms shouts.

“Well aren’t you gonna walk me to my class that’s what all parents do for first graders?”

“ You’re a big girl now you don’t need me to walk you to your class you can find it by yourself.”

O-oh OK bye, I love you!” Cricketssss ,that’s all I heard

I walked into school with a big smile excited for this new chapter, a group of girls around my age were standing outside my class, I knew they were in the same class.

“HI guys my name is Isabelle I guess we’re gonna be in the same class for the rest of the year we should be friends!”

“Uhm is this a joke, do you think just because we’re in the same class we should be friends? Uh yeah that’s not how it works but good luck making friends with the others,” the one girl snickers.

My mood was immediately ruined and I felt sad after that encounter, they all looked at me and laughed along with the girl. What is wrong with me why isn’t anyone nice to me, why don’t they want to be my friend!?

The entire day went on like this no one wanted to be my friend, I tried so hard to make friends but they all had their own cliques and didn’t need another friend, was I really that bad? I mean my mom didn’t like me so much so there must be a reason no one likes me, I just need to find out what.

MY 10TH BIRTHDAYY PARTY!

I’m now 10 and its my birthday party all of my friends have been invited ,I’ve grown so much since the last time, I know have a lot of friends since I moved school last year, we moved because mom didn’t like the neighborhood anymore so we moved a few blocks down, my school was then too far so she transferred me to another, it was so much better there, I made so many more friends than I could have ever imagined, maybe something wasn’t wrong with me after all…I’m actually super smart, my new teacher wants to send me for an advanced programmer for gifted kids, though I don’t think I will go, mom says it's a waste of time they just want to use me as an experiment, which I don't get or believe, speaking of her she hasn’t changed she’s so much colder now, I think she genuinely hates me as I got older I noticed it’s not normal for parents to be so cold to their kids all of my friends parents love them so much and will do anything, her saying she isn’t other parents was just an excuse, I’m not stupid I’ve seen the context clues she just doesn’t like me, but I don’t know why? I’ve done everything to please her I even started playing soccer which I hate because of how injured I get, yet she still doesn’t notice me or care . WHY CANT SHE JUST LOVE ME AND GIVE ME AFFECTION US THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

“ Your daughter is super smart , you must be so proud. She’s a wonderful little girl you have done an amazing job, she’d so kind gentle and lovely, she truly is a daughter all moms would wish for,” says my friends mom.

“Oh she’s nothing special, I’m sure your kids are just as lovely,” my mom replied.

Wow can’t she just accept the compliment and compliment me as well? This completely ruined me day, I don’t want to celebrate my birthday anymore. My aunt alba looks at me sadly as she saw my face drop she’s the only one who understands me and sees how my mom treats but she’s too scared to talk about this with my mom.

3 YEARS LATER!

I’m now 13 , I’ve just come our of the longest day of high-school which was dreadful, who knew high-school would be such a horrible place to be it’s like he'll, the workload is insane and so is the people here I hate it and I hate my life. My school life is already bad I just need to go home to my personal life which is worse.

The sun is blazing hot today and my head is pounding…oh yeah I forgot to mention my “mom” makes me walk to school and back which is so far away and her excuse is I’m taking too much time of her day, she needs to focus on training especially now that she had injured her leg. That’s a lie I didn’t buy she just didn’t want to, I don’t engage with her anymore I’ve learnt to just live it and pretend she’s not even there which is basically a reality, all she does is hangout with her friends and hangout with her new girlfriend, who doesn’t seem to fond of me either.. I wonder what mom said to her about me she gives me dirty looks and acts like this isn’t my house and I don’t belong here…maybe I don’t. Aunt alba is the person I hangout with besides my friends she’s gets me and we always have fun together, sometimes I wish she was my mom instead.

PRESENT DAY!

Uhm so yeah let’s just say my life is a whole lot worse than now, my got married to her girlfriend Olga and she had a baby about 2 years ago, that baby that I hate so much even though its done nothing to me, but its parents make me hate it so much. My suspicions..well it wasn’t really one it was facts just got proven even more my mom genuinely just never liked or loved me. She’s so loved dovey to the baby and is just completely a whole new person with her, she cuddles her almost all the time, as soon as she walks through the door, she doesn’t even greet me (not that I expected her to do so since she never does or has) but runs to find the baby and greets her with hugs and kisses. That’s all I ever wanted as a kid, why was it so difficult for her to do that with me. I was never a bad kid or nagged her, u never even said anything….is that why? She takes Olga and the baby on trips even to other countries why I don’t know its not like the baby will even remember but she does leaving me behind because “I’m being punished” for whatever reason Olga cane up with .Oh yeah I forgot to mention she completely despised me, she’s sees me as an obstacle in their perfect family, apparently I don’t fit in according to her which my agrees, she’s says I’m too cold and mean and not a good influence for her new baby since I “disrespect” since I disrespect my mom so much, she says she doesn’t want that negative energy around them. I don’t know what to do anymore I hate my life, I hate myself and I just want to end it all, I’m so tired of people acting like I’m such a horrible person and acting like something is wrong with me.

I go to the lounge and sit on the sofa to watch a new series I recently started until I hear a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” I said as if someone else would.

“Hola mi amor, you just keep getting more beautiful everything I see you,” says my gran Eli.

“Thanks gran, hey alba!” I screech with excitement, that doesn’t last long as Olga comes in the kitchen to quieten me.

“Stop yelling the baby is sleeping, I just put her down I don’t need you to wake her up. You’re such a nuisance,” Olga says.

I just turn around and walk back to my seat on the sofa when my “mom” appears.

“Hola mami and alba, Como estas?,” she greets.

“Moy bien,” Eli replied

“Lets eat shall we,” Olga says.

We al sit down to eat, I go to it next to aunt alba which is so much nicer, I’ll have someone to talk to during dinner.

“Are you excited for your school play coming up,” aunt alba asks.

“Yeah I actually am surprisingly,” I reply.

“What school play,” mom asks.

“Isabelle's school is hosting a play of Romeo and Juliet, our girl scored the part of Juliet, can you imagine, though shouldn’t you know this since you’re her MOM,?” says gran Eli

“With who’s permission did she get to participate in this?, you don’t even ask anymore you just do things on your own buzz,” says mom

At this point I was furious, firstly I told her this 2 weeks ago and she agreed, she probably wasn’t paying attention, and now she wants to accuse me of just making decisions without asking..really. My whole life I has to make decisions for myself and I had to be put in adult situations from the time I was little because my mother wasn’t interested in helping me with anything, now she wants to come be a mother when I’m so much older, NO I’m not letting this slide anymore, I’m finally excited for something in my life and I won’t let her take that way from me… I push my chair backwards and bang my hands on the table….

TO BE CONTINUED….

#alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #fc barcelona #alexia putellas fic #fc femeni #@woso-dreamzzz

[dyemelikeasunset]

Feeling a whole lot of emotions right now, but the good kind. I found Dom and Mor through a Tumblr poll about webcomics, and decided to read through it — as a gnc lesbian I loved seeing the characters and their relationship and your really cool artstyle. But when I got to one of your notes at the end of an instalment, where you wished everyone Eid Mubarak and said something like ‘we made it’, my heart felt like it stopped. Maybe it’s just because I’m not old enough to have moved out of my parent’s house and so never really had the chance to express myself without worrying about what my small town community will tell them, but… oh man, as you probably know, being Muslim and queer can be so isolating sometimes, since some people in both communities will think that those two parts of your identity contract themselves when they… don’t, of course. It makes me so indescribably happy to know that there is someone like me out there — who is celebrating Eid, has a wife, and creates beautiful art that showcases queer characters. I knew that logically there must be other queer Muslims out there, but I’d only ever heard of them in the context of them being imprisoned or shunned. It means so, so much to me that you chose to be open with all of this online, because it really makes me feel, in a way that not many other things can, that people like me do get to be happy, do get to be themselves… and it makes me believe that maybe one day I will have that too. Thank you, I guess, is what I’m trying to say, for showing me that I’m not alone. It really means a lot. Being open online can incite harassment, I def know, but thank you for choosing to do so. Of course you don’t do it for thanks, but it has really meant a lot to me, just to see someone else like me out there :). I hope that you’re having a blessed Ramadan and that you have a lovely Eid!

The reason I chose to be open about it online is pointedly because I have been in such a similar spot as you. When I was young, the isolation and existential loneliness was almost unbearable. Then as a young adult, most of the other queer Muslims I met were so entrenched in their own traumas that our bonds were mainly over our shared pain. As I've grown, I realized that yes, there comes a time to talk about being queer and muslim and how those things deserve a place in the world together, but more than that I want to be open, loud, and casual about who I am. So many other identities are allowed that normalcy-- I want to be that, and I can't bear to be quiet about it anymore

I'm happy my work and elements of my life were able to reach you. You're not alone-- and a casual, integrated, peaceful life as a queer muslim is absolutely possible. I hope you're able to find your version of that someday in the future

I hope the rest of Ramadan also treats you well!

#long post / #text heavy /

[cybercl0ne]

A Merry Christmas... // Holiday's with Shigaraki x f!reader // 18+

Summary: Its Christmas and you want to invite Shigaraki's family over for Christmas. (This is an AU where Shigaraki is not a villain, and his dad isn't AS abusive, just really angry all the time for no reason.)

Tw: 18+, fluff, Oral, minor sub Shigaraki, squirting

A/N at the bottom!!!

"Honey, can you take out the roast?" You call to your boyfriend who was sitting on the couch grunting at Call of Duty. He perks up after a few seconds of losing and makes his way to you, reaching inside the oven to grab the delicious meal you've prepared yet again this year.

"All this food for just us two?" Shigaraki questions, snaking behind you to slide his hands around your waist, nuzzling into your neck. You smirked as you remembered how you secretly invited his family over for the festive holiday. You couldn't wait to see his face when he saw them. He had never really told you much about his family, only ever bragging about his big sister who was abroad.

"Actually...I invited people over this year." You bounced as you turned to face him. His face shifted from playful to curious. He didn't know you to keep a social circle.

"Your parents?"

"Not even close." You snorted.

"Your friends?"

"Nope." You spun around him, finding excitement in keeping him guessing. He lowly grunted, running out of small guesses. "Can I get a hint?" he spoke, tracing behind you as you smiled, focusing on not burning the food. "Tomura I'm not talking; you'll just have to wait." You expressed, turning to him and poking his cheeks as he cornered you into the counter. His face turned playful realizing the position he had you in. You felt his hands rub gently on your thighs, shifting your apron to the side.

"Not even a little bit? ~" Shigaraki questioned, staring deeply into your eyes, watching carefully as you tried to escape his grasp and gaze. "T-Tomura not now... T-they'll be here any minute!" You scold, pushing on his chest to lighten his grip. Tomura kissed up your neck, humming sensually as you tried to protest, Shigaraki knowing that you would love him to pound you into the kitchen counters and then clean up like you didn't fuck before your guest arrived. "Then I guess they'll come in and see how much of an indecent slut you are..." he chuckled, wrapping your legs around him as he shifts his hips against your clothed cunt. "Just tell me who's coming baby~ Tell me who's coming, and we can act decent." Shigaraki claimed, moving quickly to your lips as he felt a protest coming from you. You squinted your eyes. Your pussy started to ache as his tent in his pants started to just barely rub against your clit.

"I-I invited your parents!" You exclaimed, breathing heavily as you watched Shigaraki. "My parents? As in Shimura?" Shigaraki's face stood. It was a look you couldn't quite define, only seeing how Tomura was slightly grim. "I-is that ok? I know I didn't ask you, but I thought that since you don't really talk about them, you'd wanna see them this year! If it helps, I invited your sister!" Shigaraki smiles softly at your attempt to comfort him. "It's all good sweetie, it's just...I don't really talk to my parents is all. Is that what your little secret was?" He tickles, kissing your face as you laugh. You bring him into an embrace. "If it's too much we can always cancel." You say, looking up at him. He holds your head, patting it softly. "No, let them come, it'd be nice to see them." He says as the doorbell rings. You bounce as you realize it's them.

Shigaraki answers the door seeing his father. "About time, were you gonna have us freeze out there any longer, and I was gonna go home." His father grumbled. His mother, a gentler looking woman, went for a warm embrace, smiling softly as she kissed his cheek. "You've grown so tall Tenko." She calls out. "That's not his name anymore mom, remember?" His sister says, her hands on her hip as she smiles playfully, coming inside to greet us. "Hey little brother. Long time no see." she says, hugging him and shaking my hand. "Thanks for inviting us y/n, lord knows we could all be together." Shigaraki's mother says, hugging me. You felt warm inside, shaking everyone's hand. "Don't see the point in dragging us all the way here for some food." Tomura's dad grunts. His voice low as he complains. "Papa, it's Christmas." Tomura's sister adds, sitting with her father on the couch. "Just make yourselves at home, the food is almost ready." You say, smiling brightly. Shigaraki looked at you and beamed as you treated his family with hospitality.

"Mom, Dad... this is my girlfriend, y/n." He introduces. They nod, his mother smiling in contentment, and his father... well he'd come around to you. The cooking timer went off, cutting through the awkward silence and calling you to the food. "Please sit while I get the food." You said, reassuring the Shimura family as they all stood up to come help you. "Well, what a lady you've found. Lucky she's patient." His father grumbled. "Yeah dad...Thanks." Shigaraki sarcastically added onto his fathers 'enthusiasm.' With everyone at the dining table chatting you grabbed the side dishes, the mashed potatoes falling off the edge as you bumped your hip on the counter. Before the dish fell an arm grabbed this plate, saving the dish. You sighed in relief, looking up at the person who caught it for you. "patient but clumsy as all." Shigaraki's dad reasoned, grumbling as he took some plates off your hands.

"T-thanks." You expressed gratefully. His father grunted as he nodded watching your face and gently loosening up. "J-just be more careful." he grunted, storming off to the kitchen table where everyone else resided. "Eat up guys, I hope everything is good." You shyly added, watching everyone dig into your well put together dish. "Thanks for the meal y/n." Tomura's sister, Hana said. Everyone digs in fast chatting with everyone, and everything seems to be going as you planned.

----------

"Ahh~ I'm stuffed! Thanks y/n for the meal!" Hana says, leaning back on her chair as her mother nods in agreement. "What did you think dad?" Shigaraki turns and asks watching as his father's face contorts. He wanted to snicker at the facade his father so desperately wanted to put up. "It was...better than I expected it to be." He concludes, grabbing his coat as he piles to the front door. "Goodnight my son." He walks to the door, watching his wife and daughter laughing to the car. He faces back towards you and pauses before lifting his brow. "Pleased to meet you y/n." He says, you nod gleaming.

With everyone gone you and Tomura were left to clean and enjoy the rest of Christmas night together. "Here hon, let me wash the dishes..." Shigaraki offers, bumping your hip to move you aside. You scoff playfully, drying your hands. "Thank you, what a gentleman." You turn to him, seeing the stained smile on his face. "Your dad seems well off." Shigaraki turned to face you chuckling. "Yeah, he's a character that's for sure." He nods in agreement. You snake your arms under Tomura's shirt, resting your cold hands on his waist, feeling the beginning of his happy trail. He hisses as your cold hands make their way further down his pants. "w-wait-" Shigaraki stampers, hunching over the sink, his soapy hands unable to do anything. "You teased me earlier. You thought I'd forget?~" You giggle mischievously, unbuckling his belt. Shigaraki groans, his legs buckling under your semi cold hands traveling down his trail. Shigaraki winces, looking behind and staring into your eyes, his face burning up with passion.

“You’re such a tease…” Shigaraki groans out as you take his cock out, pumping it slowly in your fist as precum spills through your hands. You hum in satisfaction, watching as Shigaraki pulls you into his lips, rubbing against your clothed hip. “So aggressive tonight~” You add, hanging onto his shoulder as he drags you both to your shared bedroom to take you for himself. He ignores your banter and instead waste no time in going down on your delectable pussy. You grip his white, stubborn hair, digging your hands into his roots, exerting a deep groan from him, sending vigorous vibrations on your cunt. “Gonna cum baby? Already? I’m not even almost down with you yet…” Shigaraki finally voices, swooping from revenging your cunt to stroking his clearly hard cock on your stomach, flashing a sly grin to you as you marvel at the size. No matter how many times you and Tomura did this it never surprises you how big he really is.

He slides his cock inside gently at first, giving you time to adjust to his girth. He peppers your face in kisses, kissing away the stray tears that fall from your eyes as you wriggle your hips to affirm your muscles. After a few moments you get impatient, moaning loosely inside his mouth as he fucked his tongue in your mouth, looking in your eyes. “T-Tomura…” you begged, squelching your hips against him, a pool of your slick coating your ass and the sheets that follow it. “what? How can I know what you want if you won’t tell me honey?~” He slyly says, kissing your lips one last time before shifting his hips to slowly edge you, sending stars into your vision. You tussle your hips, whining as you look at how lewd your cunt was getting, imagining how destroyed you could be right now. “Shigaraki come on…fuck me already..”

Shigaraki hums in acceptance, rutting his hips, jamming his cock deep inside your womb. You instinctively arch your back at the sudden push of his dick. You moan, giving him the delightful screams and moans of his name coming out of your slutty mouth. “That’s right, say my name baby! Say it louder so I can fuck you harder!” He grabs your ass, flipping you over so you show your ass off high in front of him. A burning slap comes to your cheeks, making your tight pussy clench and throb around his malicious cock. “S-Shigaraki can’t hold it! Keep fucking me like that! God…yes!” You scream, feeling your stomach flip with each pound he sends through you. Shigaraki gruffly laughs, using his hand that was pre occupied with your ass to your poor clit, rubbing it like no tomorrow. You push your head into the pillows, your drool spilling onto it as you get fucked dumb. Shigaraki laughs, watching you crumble under his touch. Tomura spanks your ass again, getting you to clench around him and get him close. “Fuck baby… where do you want it? Ya want it inside this cunt or outside on that pretty face, or ass?” Shigaraki offered, seething through his teeth, watching your ass twitch, your legs wobble.

“W-want it on my ass, want your cum outside Shigaraki.” You lewdly yell out, cumming all over his cock, your eyes rolling back as your juices spray the sheets under you, you watch as Tomura’s thrust become erratic, spasming as he gets to close. Before he can finish he keeps his promise, fwiping his cock out of your squirting cunt and stroking it through its climax as he watches his hot sperm fly across your ass and back. The room, once filled with sex and moans, quieted down to mumbles and kisses. Before you can close your eyes to fall into a slumber of content Shigaraki flips you over, bending you over the bed and towering above you again.

“Don’t tell me you thought we were done, we just started.”

————————————

A/N:) sorry this is so late from actually Christmas. Happy holidays anyway! <3

#yandere #yanderecore #fanfic #cybercl0ne #bnha #boku no hero x reader #commission #mha fanfiction #shimura tenko #tomura shigaraki #christmas #my hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #mha shigaraki #bnha tomura #tomura shiragaki #tomura x reader #mha tomura #shigaraki

[headkiss]

Can you use prompt 56. “Just marry me already “ and 97. “If you interrupt me one more time - so help me god” with Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader with Steve proposing at a inopportune time?

hiii! i did this as a smaller blurb, hope that’s okay! it’s just under 1k words and it’s cute and fluffy i hope u like it <3

Family dinners were always hectic, especially when yours just so happened to be the Hendersons. Your brother Dustin would nag you with no end, and your mom would be fussing over everyone.

Usually, it’d just be the three of you at the dinner table, but ever since you started dating Steve, there would be a fourth spot set and filled. Dustin loved him, of course, and was over the moon when you told him the two of you were together. Your mom found Steve charming and she laughed at every joke he threw her way. You’d watch the interactions with a smile on your face, happy that Steve was so welcome and comfortable with your family.

As the years went by, you and Steve eventually moved in together, finding a small but cozy apartment that was still close to your family. It was home, because it was with Steve. It was pictures in frames and your favorite blanket thrown over the back of the couch.

Today, you and Steve were hosting dinner for your family, deciding to relieve your mother of cooking for a night and finally letting Dustin—who was growing up way too fast for your liking—come visit like he always asked. Considering you weren’t together all the time anymore, you thought it would be nice to spend an evening with the people you were closest to.

Steve loved your family, because they were his, too. He was closer with them than he was with his own parents, having grown sick of their absence and high expectations. You were the love of his life, and you welcomed him with open arms at every given chance.

The two of you stood together in your kitchen preparing dinner, arms brushing every so often and small smiles shared when you’d lock eyes. You never got enough of these moments, domestic and sweet, a glimpse of what forever would look like with Steve.

He bought a ring ages ago, it sat heavy in his drawer and in his mind every day. He knew he wanted to marry you, and he wasn’t worried that you’d say no, he just wanted it to be perfect.

“Baby, could you hand me the salt?”

You snapped him out of his thoughts, and he nodded, passing you what you’d asked for and giving himself a mental shake to get out of his head.

“Here you go. You excited?”

“Yeah, actually. Haven’t really had a dinner with them since the holidays.”

“Mhm. I love those guys. And I love you.”

He gave you a little tap on the nose, which you scrunched in return, laughing and grinning all giddy. Nothing has changed between the two of you, you only continued to grow together, and you loved that you felt just a strongly for him as you did years ago.

“We all love you too, Steve. You know you’re a part of this family. That’s not gonna change anytime soon.”

“Just marry me already.”

He didn’t mean to let it slip out, but it did. He loved you so much and he didn’t want to wait any longer to ask you for forever. His and yours, spent alongside each other. But, he really did want to ask you properly and this is not what he had planned. Hands messy from your cooking, still in your rumpled clothes from the day.

“What?”

“So. I have a ring and I’ve had it for, like, ever but I never knew when to ask you and I guess now is as good a time as ever so-”

He quickly wiped off his hands on a small towel, then ran to your shared room to grab said ring and came back to you standing in the same spot. This is not how you expected the night to go, but you can’t say you’re upset about it.

“Steve, oh my god. What?”

“Look, it’s not huge but it’s pretty and I love you and-”

“Baby. It’s perfect.”

“That’s great, now please stop interrupting me.”

He sank down slowly on one knee, still watching your face closely and he could see the tears that gathered in your eyes, almost spilling. He could also see your smile, happy and surprised.

“Ever since I’ve known you I’ve wanted to be with you, every second of every day. Like, I miss you when you’re not around and all that shit. You know I love you, and I know you love me, so this is me asking if you maybe wanted to love me forever? Will you marry me?”

The tears you were trying to hold back were falling now, a laugh escaping you because this was so perfect, even if Steve didn’t think so, it was. The impromptu proposal was private, it was messy, but it was exactly what you wanted. Just you, and Steve, in your cute little apartment.

“Yes, of course. Get up here.”

He placed the ring on your finger, getting back to his feet and kissing you with his hands on your cheeks. You grasped his wrists, kissing him back and tasting the saltiness of your happy tears in the midst of it. It was broken by smiles, teeth clinking, but it was the promise of forever and more and that’s what mattered.

The doorbell ringing broke you and Steve apart, and you remembered the guests you were expecting, Steve looking at you with that boyish grin saying, “guess we have some news to share, huh?”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington requests #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #stevie blurbs

[jazzycurls]

I'm Yours

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: It's a surprise 😉🤫

Warnings/Tags: 18+ minors dni! light angst, fluff, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, unprotected piv (let me know if I missed something)

An: Hi you guys! I guess I'm not new to writing anymore but I'm definitely still a newbie. All feedback is welcome, be gentle please lol. Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work, everything besides the characters and plot points by the original writers, belongs to me. Also, sorry this took so long and sorry if it sucks lol, life has been extra stressful lately. Anyways love you guys and I hope you enjoy ❤

Word Count: 5,342

You had it bad for Eddie Munson and that was putting it lightly. He was the best friend of your older brother James. You guys had practically grown up together. When Eddie had moved into the trailer park to stay with his Uncle Wayne, he was just some scrawny little kid with a buzz cut. However, that never stopped him from standing up for himself, including the people he cared about.

That seemed like a lifetime ago, what was once admiration, slowly turned into a crush and now had become full-blown pining. The problem with that was Eddie didn't see you in that way. He only saw you as his friend's kid sister, even though you were eighteen now and out of High School. He still saw you as the baby of their group, that needed to be protected.

You were a late bloomer, so when you had finally started to blossom into a young woman; you had thought, finally, Eddie will see me as more than just some little kid. The only reaction you had gained from him that day was a glance and a quip about how chilly it was outside.

You had missed the blush that had spread across his face before he schooled his expression. With tears in your eyes, you had run off, holding back your sobs as Eddie and your brother chased after you asking what was wrong. 

Eddie had felt horrible afterward for hurting your feelings. He had reacted without thinking, embarrassed at how you had made him flustered. He thought that you were the most beautiful girl in the world but was too shy to admit it. To make it up to you he had spent that whole summer raking yards and doing odd jobs to save up to buy you an EZ bake oven, complete with all the accessories.

You had begged your parents to get you one for your birthday and they had told you that you would have to wait until Christmas. You were disappointed but never complained, you knew money was scarce and didn't want to make your parents feel bad.

That was one of the things he loved most about you, you were so selfless and always considerate of others. The joy in your eyes as you jumped into his arms giving him a big hug was worth all the callouses and sore muscles he had gained.

Eddie was something like a mediator between you and your brother. He would always help keep the peace whenever you and your brother fought, which was often. Not to say that you and your brother didn't get along. He had a reputation for being a badass but deep down he was a softie, even if he refused to show it.

You were currently waiting on your brother to get home so he could take you to work. The concrete steps of your porch made your back ache as you tapped your foot impatiently, glancing at your watch as a sigh of frustration fell from your lips. "This is so not a good look," you thought angrily.

This was only your 2nd week at work and you were already showing up late. Every time you were late it had something to do with your brother. He either had a hot date to get ready for or something had just come up, leaving you scrambling to find a ride at the last minute.

The sound of heavy metal and tires screeching interrupted you from your thoughts. You lifted your head to see Eddie's van bending the corner on two wheels. He skidded to a stop in your makeshift driveway, causing dust to fly hazardously.

"Need a ride kiddo," he drawled with a joint hanging loosely from his lips. One hand was on the steering wheel and the other was draped precariously along the back of the passenger seat.

You grinned, your mood instantly lifted at the sight of Eddie. "Please," you replied as you got up, dusting off your backside as you made your way over to him. You swung open the door with a heavy creak and hauled yourself onto the seat, slamming the door shut once you were settled.

"Let me guess, James sent you because something important came up," you said sarcastically with a lifted brow.

He chuckled as he threw the car into drive and drove off. "You know your brother," he joked, looking at you warmly before merging into traffic.

The conversation fell into a comfortable lull as you stared out the window. The trees passed by in orange and red whirs. This was was your favorite time of the year, the perfect season for cuddling with someone special. You glanced at Eddie's side profile, admiring the curls that framed his face. The prominent slope of his nose as it curved downward, right above his full lips. He was perfect in every way to you, inside and out.

"Penny for your thoughts," Eddie said suddenly, snapping you out of your trance. You flushed heavily as he cast a quick grin over to you before turning his gaze back onto the road.

"Just wondering who I'm going to the fall festival with," you stammered nervously. "I have so many prospects to choose from," you added quickly before falling silent.

Eddie visibly tensed, his fingers tightening on the wheel. "I hope these 'prospects' know that they're going to be interviewed and interrogated before I allow them to take you anywhere," he retorted, his voice thinly disguised with bitterness.

You were taken aback by his sudden opposition. Irritation blazed through you instantly, making you lash out. "I'm not a kid anymore Eddie, I don't need your or my brother's permission to go out with a guy!" You turned towards the window, choosing to ignore him for the rest of the ride.

If you were being honest, you weren't entirely sure why you were upset. Your chest felt heavy with guilt, you knew that Eddie meant well, he didn't deserve to be berated just because of your repressed feelings for him. You bit your lip as you sat deep in thought.

Eddie pulled into the parking lot at Family Video, finding a spot quickly. He exhaled a heavy sigh as he looked over at you. You were turned towards the door and had folded your arms under your breasts, a cute pout on your dainty features.

"I'm sorry sweets, I just don't want to see you get hurt," he said softly.

Your resolve broke as you looked over at him to see him giving you his puppy-dog expression with his lips poked out. "I'm sorry too Eddie, I just want you— and my brother, to see that I'm not a little kid anymore," you admitted.

"I know your not," he said as he leaned over the console. Your breath caught in your throat, nervous at how close he suddenly was. He regarded you for a moment before ruffling your hair, gaining a cross look from you as struggled to contain your smile.

You smoothed your hair back into place and leaned over the console, giving him a soft hug. "You're such a goof," you mumbled against his neck.

A pretty blush spread across his nose, settling on the tip of his ears. You smirked as you opened the door and hopped out. "Picking me up later," you asked hopefully, batting your lashes at him.

"Of course, can't leave you stranded waiting on dingus," he joked.

You smiled, giving him a wave goodbye before heading in for work.

Eddie watched until you disappeared into the building, a small smile still gracing his lips, even as he pulled away into traffic.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

"Earth to y/n," Robin called out waving a hand in front of your face pulling you from your daydream. You straightened up from your position of leaning onto the counter.

"Sorry," you laughed, embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming at work.

"Sooo, what or who is the reason you keep spacing out today," she queried.

"No reason, just tired is all," you replied lamely. You turned around and began to wipe down the counters for the thousandth time today.

"Yeah right, I'll believe that when Steve here stops using so much hair spray," she quipped, smirking at you.

"Hey, I'm right here you know and I do not use a lot of hair spray," he argued, annoyed at having been dragged into the conversation.

"Yeah, yeah so not the point right now. The point is that y/n can't seem to focus and I want to know why," she declared, folding her arms and staring at you questioningly.

You stared at her for a moment before dropping your eyes and sighing. "It's Eddie," you confess.

Her eyes widen with alarm before taking your hand into hers. "What's wrong, is he okay?" she asked worriedly. With everything that had happened with Vecna and the Upside Down, Robin had developed a soft spot for Eddie.

"No— I mean yes. I mean...fuck I don't know what I mean Robin. I'm just tired is all." You continue to rub the counter harshly, taking out your frustration onto the laminate countertop.

Robin grabbed the towel from you, tossing it out of reach. "What do you mean y/n, what's going on," she implored, staring at you in concern.

"I just want Eddie to see me as more than just some little kid," you yell out, startling  Steve and the customers he was waiting on.

"Sorry," you apologize as Robin guides you into the backroom for more privacy.

"Okay first, breathe y/n okay?" she says as she rubs your back gently. You take a few deep breaths, feeling yourself start to relax a little.

"Second, Eddie's an idiot if he still looks at you as a kid. Your fucking hot y/n, trust me," she asserts.

You flush at her words lowering your gaze bashfully. "I just love him and it's getting harder to pretend that I don't. I wish that I could get him to see me differently."

"I think I might know how to fix that," Robin says with a gleam in her blue eyes. You listen intently as she tells you her plan.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

You're sitting in your room surrounded by shopping bags. With the help of Robin, you both went shopping on your lunch break. Nancy had met up with you, after phoning her and giving her the rundown of what was going on.

According to Robin, Eddie needed a gentle push to help speed things along. She was certain that some revealing yet still innocent-looking clothes would do just the trick. Nancy helped you in picking out the items while Robin judged whether it was hot or not. If all else failed, then you would have to make him jealous by going on a date with someone. That would be a last resort, the thought of going out with someone you had no feelings for filled with you dread.

Tonight you would put the first outfit to the test. Movie nights were always on Fridays around 9, a tradition you guys had kept stemming from middle school. Your brother had missed the last two weeks due to some girl he was interested in at the moment.

Even though James missed the dates, Eddie always showed up like clockwork. You would use this to your advantage. Usually, you would wear some sweatpants and a hoodie or pajamas if it was too hot for that.

Tonight, you would be wearing a racy little number. It was more revealing than what you usually wore but not too out of the norm to raise suspicion.

You checked yourself out in the mirror after you had put the outfit on. It was a black and red romper onesie that dipped low in the front. The words princess were written all over it in red with hearts. Your lower cheeks peeked out slightly and it hugged every inch of your curves leaving nothing and everything to the imagination.

A smile spread across your face at the sight. You looked and felt good about the possibilities of what could happen tonight. You heard the front door open as you sprayed on a light mist of your perfume. 'Showtime,' you thought excitedly.

"Y/n, I'm here" Eddie called out as he flopped down onto the couch. He set the tapes he had rented from Family Video onto the table. He had chosen mostly horror movies but had gotten a rom-com since he knew that those were your favorite.

"Just a minute Ed" your voice rang out.

He took out some rolling papers setting them to the side as he began to break down the small green buds. He was finished and had put the lit joint into his mouth when you entered the room.

When he saw you his mind went blank and his jaw slack, causing the joint to fall into his lap. The embers singed into his jeans causing him to hiss in pain. "Shit," he yelped, grabbing the joint from his lap and dusting himself off quickly.

"Eddie, are you okay," you cried out. You sank down to your knees in front of him trying to look closer, inspecting him closely for any injuries.

Eddie groaned internally at the sight of you on your knees in front of him. He felt himself begin to harden, which would be a recipe for disaster, with how close you were to him. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay sweets I promise," he says shooting you a nervous look.

You peered up into his face questioningly before rising to your feet. "Okay but let me know if you need any creams for burns or anything," you state sternly with your hands on your hips.

Eddie's eyes shifted from the valley of your breasts exposed by the low cut to your lower pubic region which was being hugged intimately by the onesie. If he looked close enough he could see the outline of your lips.

You clear your throat, bringing his gaze back onto yours, he notices a small smirk on your face and knows you caught him checking you out. His face warms as he nods his head in response to whatever it was that you had just said. His gaze follows your movements as he watches you turn around and bend slightly to look at the videos he selected.

His throat runs dry as he watches the fabric ride up, letting your cheeks poke out provocatively. Clearing his throat, he lifts his lap attempting to adjust his hard-on.

"Picked what you want to watch yet?" His question comes out as a squeak, and he mentally face-palms himself. 'What the hell is wrong with me,' he thought. 'This is y/n for God's sake.'

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, raising a single brow. "Yeah, I think I want to watch a scary one first," you smile, taking the tape and popping it into the VCR. You shut off the lights before taking a seat close to Eddie on the couch.

You leave no space between you as you sit down, making him turn towards you in confusion. "Just wanna be close to you y'know— just in case I get scared," you reply simply. It's bullshit and you both know it, you're a longtime fan of horror movies, making you insusceptible to jump scares.

Eddie doesn't question you, only giving a slight shake of his head before settling in and focusing on the movie. After a while, he becomes completely absorbed in the movie. His eyes are wide as a random big-breasted blonde gets beheaded by a flying machete.

You however haven't been paying attention at all. Your gaze has been focused on Eddie the entire time, giving him innocuous side glances ever so often. You use the sounds of screaming to feign being frightened. A fake shriek escapes your lips and using the momentum, you jump closer to Eddie, slinging your arms around him and burying your face into his neck.

Eddie's heart stops and he forgets how to breathe. Half of your body is sitting on his lap and he can feel your soft full lips against his neck as you tremble with fright. His arms wrap around you without a thought in an attempt to comfort you. This action brings you inadvertently closer to him.

He groans silently at the feel of your soft body pressed against him. Using every ounce of self-restraint he wills himself to calm down before speaking. "It's okay sweets, the scary part is over now," he whispers in an attempt to soothe you.

You remove the small smile on your face before moving your head from his neck to look up at him. A small pout sits on your lips as you look up at him. "Okay Eds," you whisper. You remain seated on his leg as you turn to look at the tv, content with watching the movie this way.

"What are you doing y/n," Eddie asks when he realizes you're not moving off of him.

"Don't wanna move, s'comfy right here," you murmur, laying your head onto his chest as you continue to watch the movie.

Eddie's conflicted, on one hand, he's enjoying having you pressed against him like this, on the other, he's certain that if you don't move soon he's bound to have an embarrassing situation occur. He opts to leave you be while he suffers in silence.

Minutes tick by as you stare silently at the screen. You have no idea what is happening in the movie and you honestly could care less. Tension is heavy in the air making it hard for you to breathe normally. You shift against Eddie, attempting to get comfortable.

"Stop moving sweetheart," he chides gently.

"Why," you ask as you shift against him again. You move your leg resting in his lap, inadvertently spreading your legs farther apart.

He grabs your thigh in an attempt to halt your movements. The feel of his strong ring-clad fingers against your inner thigh causes your breath to hitch and a small gasp tumbles from your lips.

Eddie's brain is short-circuiting, his hand has yet to let go of you. His body is no longer responding to any commands from his brain, acting solely off reflexes. He watches you intently, noticing how the swell of your breasts rises and falls rapidly. Moving his hand higher up your thigh he whispers "you nervous baby?"

You nod your head yes, unable to speak, fearing that you'll say exactly what's on your mind and ruin your relationship with Eddie forever. Your heart feels as if you've sprinted a marathon, your body strung tight, like a chord ready to be strummed. His fingers play with the edge of the fabric from your clothing.

Eddie's mind is reeling as he revels in the feel of your smooth skin. Calloused fingers begin to knead and massage the crease where your thigh and groin meet. His eyes are wide as your gaze meets his. Your eyes begging him to continue and his are searching yours for consent.

You lay your hand on top of his, guiding his hand through the opening of the fabric, directly onto your cunt. He finds you bare underneath and immediately takes over as he begins to caress you slowly. The pads of his fingers rub small circles into your bundle of nerves.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, as pleasure unfurls in your stomach and your core clenches in anticipation. You close your eyes and he puts a finger under your jaw, bringing your gaze back onto him.

"Eyes on me sweetheart, I wanna see you" he commands. His eyes are trained on yours and it feels as if he is staring directly into your soul. "You're so wet baby, this all for me?" he marvels in awe.

"Yes Eddie, all yours," you confess, finally finding the words to speak. Your lips are slick and swollen with your arousal. You can feel your stomach contract as waves of pleasure bloom through you.

Eddie's eyes darken at your words and any self-control he had left is completely wiped away. Something passes between you two, no words are needed, as you both come together simultaneously. Colliding in a wet passionate glide of lips, tongue, and teeth. A moment of clarity hits Eddie when he feels your lips on his. He knows that he's in love and has been ever since the first time he saw you. He is hooked on you and will spend the rest of his existence addicted to the feeling you give him.

You pull your lips away from his as your orgasm hits its climax, the feeling washes over you in waves, threatening to throw you over the abyss. "Eddie," you moan loudly, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Your core flutters repeatedly as you ride out your high.

Eddie watches you intently, not wanting to miss a single moment. He wishes he could capture the look on your face, so he could remember it forever. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are," he whispers against your ear. He hasn't even taken your clothes off and he's already enraptured with you.

You smile shyly at him as you shake your head no. His cock strains against the denim material of his jeans causing him to shift uncomfortably. You notice his movements and take your hand placing it on his hardened length. He twitches against your palm as you begin to stroke him slowly, testing out the waters. Your lips find his again as you pull him in for a kiss. This time it's gentle but still just as passionate as you both enjoy the feel of each other.

His hand slides from between your legs and joins the other behind your back pulling you even closer to him. You sigh into his mouth "I've wanted this for so long," you murmur against his lips.

"I'm sorry," he whispers giving you a series of quick kisses along your temple.

"For what," you ask, confusion etched across your face.

"For being a jackass," his face is serious as the words leave his mouth.

"Apology accepted," you giggle before bringing your lips back onto his. You break the kiss and stand up grabbing Eddie's hand. He lets you lead him out of the living room into your bedroom. The movie is still playing in the background, now long forgotten. Closing your door you turn towards him with a shy smile.

He's sitting on your bed surrounded by the lace and frills of your comforter, looking out of place and at home all at once. You walk towards him slowly, tugging down the zipper of the onesie. His eyes follow your movements as you lower the zipper teasingly past the valley of your breasts. His eyes shoot up to yours when you stop unexpectedly, you give him a sweet smile before looking down and pulling the zipper the rest of the way down, stopping just above your pubic bone.

"You're so beautiful, I can't believe this is happening." He takes ahold of your hips, bringing you to stand between his legs. "Remind me," he pauses as he presses open wet mouth kisses around your navel. "Why have I waited so long to do this again," he questions, while he slips the soft fabric of your clothes down your shoulders and onto the floor.

His face is awestruck as he gazes at your naked body causing you to flush deeply. "Hmm, I believe you said it was because you were a jackass or something" you smile teasingly.

Eddie's face breaks out into a grin as he grabs you and flings you onto the bed. You squeal in surprise which quickly turns into laughter as he begins to tickle you. "Stop, m'sorry," you laugh breathlessly, wiggling your body over onto your stomach trying to escape his tickles.

He stops his ticklish attack and begins to rub his hands along your sides slowly. He pauses a moment and you hear the quick rustling of clothes before he commences, picking up where he left off. You feel the soft press of his lips along your shoulder, followed along with the drag of his tongue as he moves on to the next spot. He covers your back in kisses and soft bites as he makes his way down.

You feel his large hands take the soft globes of your cheeks as he kneads and massages them. Your face heats up in embarrassment as he spreads them apart. You look over your shoulder questioningly and your breath catches in your throat. You think that Eddie may just be some sort of demon like the town thinks because at this moment the look he's giving you is downright sinful.

He catches your eye and gives you a wicked smile before pulling your hips up off of the bed and lowering his head to your cunt. His tongue glides along and through your folds spreading them apart. You can feel the tip of his tongue as he prods into your hole teasing before sliding to your clit.

Moans fall from your lips as he laps at your clit. You feel dizzy and your hands fist into the sheets as you arch back into Eddie's mouth. "Eddie," you whimper when his fingers dip into your core.

"Yes, princess," he mumbles into your folds, his voice reverberating through you causing you to shiver in response.

"I want you to fuck me," you beg salaciously. A heated flush coats your entire body as he sucks on your clit while he scissors his fingers in and out of you. Your orgasm creeps up on you and crashes into you unexpectedly, making you cry out, your voice echoing throughout the trailer.

"You did so good sweetheart," he praises you as he turns you over. Your heart sings at his words and you wrap your arms around him, bringing him down to you in a heart-stopping kiss. His face is wet with your arousal and you grind up into him, feeling yourself getting turned on again.

He laughs kissing you on the nose. "So eager huh," he says as he slides his cock through your puffy lips. He moans at the feel of your slick coating his length. "Gonna fuck you so good baby," he promises as he nudges his tip at your entrance.

You kiss him in response and he takes the opportunity to slide into your slickened warmth. He gets halfway into you before he's stopped by a barrier, he takes ahold of your hands and deepens the kiss as he drives into you until he bottoms out. You cry out in pain and he is quick to soothe you with sweet kisses to your temple.

"I know sweets, just breathe kay," he instructs, his eyes trained on you, wanting to make sure that you are okay. You breathe deeply as the stinging sensation begins to lessen, turning into something more pleasurable. Your hips begin to move against him, urging him to continue.

With every thrust, your walls pulled him back in greedily. "Fuck— this tight little pussy is squeezing my dick," he grunts as your velvet walls pulsed and squeezed around him. He kisses you again and again, unable to stop himself. You looked so perfect like you were made just for him.

"Oh God," you sobbed as his cock hit a spot inside of you, making you see stars. You could feel the mix of your arousal and his saliva as he slid in and out of you with ease.

"You like that," he moaned into your ear, taking it between his teeth and nipping it gently.

"Yes, don't stop" you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Fucking me so good," you babbled, the expression on your face was one of pure bliss as Eddie drove his cock into you over and over.

"Fuck— you feel like heaven babe," Eddie groaned as he grinded deeper into you.

"You're gonna make me cum," you whimpered breathlessly as his patch of curls rubbed against your sensitive clit. Your words died in your throat as you came, the feeling of your orgasm becoming too much, and your vision began to tunnel.

The motion of his hips faltered as his cock began to pulse with his release. Eddie railed his hips against yours once more as shallow puffs of air fell from his lips. Wisps of curls had fallen around his face, curtaining around you both. You blinked up at him with a bleary smile, eyes still hazy in your post-orgasm state.

He pulled out of you slowly, conscious of your sensitive core, and got up from the bed. You stared in silence as he left the room, returning with a warm towel. He quickly wiped you off and then himself before throwing the towel into your clothes hamper in the corner of your room.

Getting back into bed, he took you into his arms and pulled your comforter from the foot of your bed, tucking it around you both. You relax onto him, your head resting on his chest as you listen to the soft beat of his heart.

Taking your hand into his, he intertwines your fingers before pressing a soft kiss to each knuckle. You're half asleep when he begins to talk, the timbre of his voice is like a low rumble in his chest stirring you awake.

"When we were little, I asked you to marry me," "you remember that," he whispers, his lips pressed against the top of your head.

"Kinda," you replied groggily, struggling to stay awake.

"I went to your parents and asked for your hand in marriage," he chuckled. "And your brother, he made me swear to always protect you. He promised that he would kick my ass if I ever hurt you and I said that I would let him if I ever hurt you in any way." He tilted your chin to look up at him and you gave him a sleepy smile, making his heart stop momentarily.

"You asked me to marry you and I said no. Said I was saving myself for Elvis. I don't know how I forgot about that," you laughed softly.

"Yeah, broke my little heart," he said jokingly. "I always knew I loved you, even then. Just never thought you saw me in that way I guess. Shit, I'm rambling— what I'm trying to say is. I still want to be with you, if you'll have me." He presses a tender kiss to your lips as his question hangs in the air.

Your heart clenches in joy and tears prick at your eyes. Nodding your head you kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth teasingly. After a moment he pulls away, laugh lines crinkling along the sides of his big brown eyes "I guess that means yes," he smirked.

You roll your eyes and laugh "Of course, that's a yes, unless Elvis is really alive, then we might have a problem." you tease, laying your head back down onto his chest. His chest hums with soft laughter, you remind yourself to thank Robin and Nancy and let them know their plan was a success before you doze off into a peaceful slumber.

The end

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie my beloved #eddie smut #eddie stranger things #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #robin stranger things #steve stranger things #stranger things fluff #fluff #eddie fluff #eddie x fem!reader #jazzy curls

[notsunnyowo]

Your Name

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem Reader (part 1)

Summary:

Once you turn four years old, a name appeares on your wrist.

The name of your soulmate...

..or your mortal enemy.

***

Guess I got my enemy's.

They say that once a person turns four years old, a name will appear on their wrist.

The name of either their soulmate..

..or their mortal enemy.

Pretty interesting right? You either get to meet the one you are destined to be with. The half that you never knew you were missing. Your one and only, your true love..

Or.

The person you'll despise most. The sole being who is going to make your life a living hell. Or to put it simply, the bein of your existence. Your mortal enemy

And the best part about it? You have no clue who you got until you've met that person.

***

(Y/n) could remember the first time she saw his name, on the morning of her fourth birthday. The little girl had gotten up, excitement pouring out of her little body as she happily made her way towards the bathroom to wash up and get ready for the day to come.

As she made her way into the decent sized bathroom and proceeded to pick up her toothbrush something caught her eye. Some words were neatly written on the inner part of her hand.

Being only a four year old child, with no prior knowledge on the matter the girl felt rather confused. Why were there words written on her hand? Who had written them there? Had it been her father? Or her mother perhaps?

And most importantly, what did they mean?

Try as she might poor (Y/n) could only wonder on how those words had appeared on her hand. After a bit of thought on the matter the petite girl left her toothbrush where it had been and quickly exited the bathroom in search of her parents.

"Mommy! Daddy!" The girl called out to her parents as she made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. Her little feet thumping along the wooden stairs as she approached the room.

Sure enough, her parents were inside. Upon seeing their child both of them smiled. (Y/n)'s father quickly went up to his little girl and picking her up and swinging her around, causing the child to erupt into a fit of giggles, momentarily forgetting what she'd came there to ask.

"There's our birthday girl!" He spoke in such a way that only a loving father could with to his precious daughter. "Look at you! So grown up!"

(Y/n) laughed at her father's words. "Silly daddy! I'm not that old! I'm only this big!" She said, gesturing to her small body with her equally small hands.

"You're absolutely right sweetheart." (Y/n)'s mother chimed in, walking over to the two with a loving smile, similar to the one on her father's features.

Placing a hand on her child's hair, the woman ruffled her (h/c) locks. The action made young (L/n) smile brightly, showing her mother the few missing teeth spots she had where her baby teeth used to be.

Not long after, the small girl composed herself and looked at both her parents, simultaneously raising the hand with the strange words on it.

"I found this weird mark on my hand. I was going to brush my teeth when I saw it." The girl explained, pointing at the Kanji written on her arm.

What confused little (Y/n) more was the fact that her parents didn't seem to be phased by the strange markings on her wrist. Did this mean that they knew something about this that she didn't? Probably.

(Y/n)'s mother wasted no time in giving her child the explanation she figured the girl needed.

"Those words on your wrist are a name dear." The woman explained, before raising her own hand and tugging on the sleeve of her shirt. This, in turn caused the soft fabric to move aside and bring into view something written on her wrist.

Upon close inspection, (Y/n) could see that the words were written in a similar way to the ones on her own wrist. Although is seemed like they said something else.

"Everyone has a name written on their hands dear." Her mother explained. "Each one of us gets it when we turn four. Just like you did today." She continued, crouching down to be at level with her daughter.

"That name belongs to either your soulmate or your enemy." The woman finished, giving the petite girl some time to process what was going on.

"Soul-mate?" (Y/n) questioned, quirking a brow as if trying to further emphasize her confusion.

"A soulmate is the one person you are destined to be with." Her father said, capturing the girl's attention. Her eyes turned to look at his approaching figure.

"Think of it as your best friend. Someone you can tell anything and not fear their reaction to it. Someone you like being around." At this explanation the young girl made an "oh" with her mouth.

Now she got it! So this meant that she now knew the name of her new best friend! She couldn't wait to meet whoever it was!

(Y/n) could already begin to imagine all the lovely playdates they'd have. They could go play on the swings together, or maybe even play hide and seek! And afterwards they'd come home and her mother would make them the yummiest cookies ever!

(Y/n)'s little daydream didn't last long however, as the small child quickly remembered the second half of the explanation.

"And what if it's.." She began, unfortunately forgetting the name of the word. What was it again?

"Enemy?" Her mother asked.

"Yeah! Enemy! What if it's that?" The girl asked, her eyes sparkling with determination to broaden her vocabulary with such big-girl words.

With a sigh her father crouched down, getting at eye level with his daughter. The man had a relatively serious look on his face as he placed a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder. "In that case.." He began.

He wondered how he was supposed to lightly introduce the topic of an enemy to his four year old daughter. She viewed the world in such a positive light that he found himself worried about abstracting that pure view she had on things. However, despite that he knew that she'd learn about it sooner or later. So it'd be much better if she was well educated on that matter by someone with much more experience on the matter.

"If you get your enemy then that means that you'll know the name of the person who you won't like at all. See, an enemy is the exact opposite of a soulmate. As much as you may like your soulmate, you'll dislike your enemy as much."

Little (L/n) nodded. "So this means that whoever this name belongs to is either my new best friend ever! Or, my worst friend ever..?" She said, explaining the term in her own much simpler way.

Her parents nodded. She might have not gotten the exact definition right, but it was a good start.

"But how will I know if it's my soulmate or not?" The small child questioned. This was all so new to her, yet she was doing her best to soak up any new information like a sponge.

As an answer to this question her mother showed the girl her wrist, pointing to the Kanji neatly written on her wrist. "Do you know whose name is written on my wrist sweetie?"

(Y/n) shook her head, no.

"It's your father. See?" The woman pointed to the first Kanji and then the second. "(L/n) (F/n), your father's name." At this news (Y/n) jumped in excitement and quickly turned to her father, her eyes sparkling with joy. Did this mean that her father had her mother's name as well? How amazing would that be!

"Daddy! Do you have Mommy's name?"

At this question her father gave her a shake of his head, before showing his child the name written on his own wrist. "I don't have your mother's name (Y/n)." He pointed a finger to the Kanji. "This says Shimura Tenko." The man explained. "Everyone gets a unique name and it's up to them to determine if it's their soulmate or their enemy. I haven't met this person though."

"But I've met your father." (Y/n)'s mother interjected. Wrapping and arm around her husband's arm. "And I can confidently say that your father is most definitely not my enemy." The woman smiled softly, giving her husband a kiss.

"To answer your question." Her mother continued. "When you meet that person you'll know who it is. That's the only way I know how to explain it to you sweetie."

The small girl nodded, she wasn't quite sure how she'd understand it but she would take her mother's word for it. She was much more knowledgeable than her so she must know best! Or at least better than she did.

(Y/n) would be lying to herself if she said that she wasn't even a little bit worried about the person being her enemy. But the chance that it could also be her soulmate was much more enticing.

Looking down at her hand the girl eyed the name curiously, before showing it to her mother, her eyes shining a (e/c) color.

"What's it say mommy?" She asked.

Her mother took a look at her daughter's hand, letting out a soft 'hmm' in response. "My.. What an interesting name.." She said in a soft tone which only caused the already impatient girl to not be able to contain her pure excitement.

"What is it!"

"Here it says.. Bakugou Katsuki."

***

"Forward march and here we go!" A blonde boy called out as he lead a group of other small children across a log which served as a bridge for them to cross over to the other side of the small river. The children appeared to be around four or so, some showing odd physical abnormalities, courtesies of their respective quirks.

"Members of the agency, Bakugou-!" The boy continued, accidently slipping on the log and falling down into the river.

"Woah!- Bakugou-" One child called out to the ashen blonde.

 As a response the young boy smiled as he waved a hand nonchalantly. "Relax! It's only a bit'a water! I'll come back up in a sec!"

"Kacchan!" Another voice called out, and as Bakugou looked towards the sound of the voice, his brows furrowed slightly upon seeing the outstretched hand of the emerald eyed boy, standing in front of him. "Are you alright?" He asked. "Are you hurt?"

'Kacchan' scowled, getting up on his own and completely disregarding the offer of help from the youngster ahead. "I said I'm fine! I don't need your help Deku!"

With a saddened look on his face Izuku watched as his 'friend' walked off into the distance, getting up on his own and completely leaving him behind. It was like that most days, he always pursued his so-called friend, while Katsuki always did his best to avoid him, and/or make fun of him.

It seemed that Bakugou had a strong distaste for the jade-eyed boy.

"Hey Bakugou, what's that on your hand?" One of the boys next to the blonde asked, pointing a curious finger at the boy's hand.

"What are you talking about?" The blonde asked, as his crimson eyes trailed off to the mentioned spot, only to widen as he looked at the Kanji written on his wrist. A triumph full smile gracing his smooth features.

"Finally! The name of my mortal enemy!" The boy cheered. "A worthy opponent!"

***

That day Katsuki returned home with a bashful look on his face, despite the whole falling into the lake thing. He had finally gotten the name of his mortal enemy! And in just a matter of minutes, he'd finally be able to know the actual name of said enemy.

Bakugou was a smart child, not to mention very observant. Ever since he could remember, he'd always asked about everything and anything that peaked his interest. Be it small things, or something a bit more important.

And so, he now was going to ask his mother to read this name to him. It wasn't that young Bakugou couldn't read or anything of the sort, not at all. The boy could read some words written in Hiragana and Katakana, but he simply didn't know a lot of Kanji. And seeing as the whole name was written like that, he'd have quite the problem understanding what the words meant.

"Mom!" The boy called out, entering the living room.

"What's the matter Katsuki?" His mother asked, leaving her work in the kitchen to come and see what her son was calling her about.

"Look!" He yelled, waving his hand in the air, flashing the woman a toothy grin. "I got it! The name of my enemy! See?"

Mrs. Bakugou glanced down at her son's wrist, seeing that he did in fact have a name written on it.

Her features softened as she approached the boy, crouching down to get to his level. "You did now, huh?"

"Yeah! Can you tell me what it says!" He said, holding his hand out to her, allowing Mitsuki a clear view of the words on his wrist.

"Alright, alright. Give me a minute." The woman looked at the Kanji before saying out loud. "It says (L/n) (Y/n)."

Looking up from his wrist the boy's mother gave him an intrigued look. "How come you're so sure it's your enemy and not your soulmate? ~ For all we know it could be either."

"Because!" He pouted. "I don't need a stupid soulmate! I'm fine just on my own!" The boy crossed his arms, turning his head away from his mother.

"Oh really?" His mother edged on. "You expect me to believe that you're not going to be a little interested if it ends up being your soulmate and not your mortal enemy?"

"Yeah!"

***

He didn't realize how wrong his words would be.

(part 2)

#mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #mha #bnha #fandom ships #romance #roleplay #bnha bakugou #x reader #fem reader #reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #soulmate au #soulmates #soulmate marks

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

Welcome Back Wednesday

Wednesday X Reader

Part 1

Wednesday POV

"You're what?" My voice was calm but the tone indicated I was anything but.

"They've asked me to take Larissa's position at Nevermore my little raven and your father will be teaching some courses as well."

I felt my jaw tighten at her words. I had just grown accustomed to attending the school they did.

"And Pugsley?" I glared at him. He shrunk under my stare.

"We don't think he's quite ready yet but don't worry my little viper, your Uncle Fester has promised to take good care of him."

I scoffed grabbing my bag and preparing to go to my dorm.

"Be sure to be on time for the special announcement in the quad!" I barely glanced back towards my mother and father. Seething as I realized they'd be here to monitor my every move as they tried before by sending Thing.

"Wednesday!" A ball of pink and blue stopped just a few inches before me.

"Howdy roomie." She winked.

I nodded preparing my side of the room as a knock sounded. Ajax coming in shortly to hug Enid nodding to me politely.

"Hey Wednesday, Xavier's looking for you." I rolled my eyes continuing my unpacking as Enid smirked.

"Maybe you guys can catch up when we all go to the Quad." Enid was practically bouncing in her spot as my bookbag opened itself.

"THING!" She began to talk animatedly with him signing furiously. I refrained from rolling my eyes for the third time in just as many minutes.

The two were acting as if they weren't FaceTiming each other on a weekly basis.

I walked out to the Quad once again hearing my name being yelled.

"Hey Wednesday." I looked up to see Xavier smiling at me as I nodded. "How's it going?"

I quirked an eyebrow at him.

Was that really the best he could come up with?

Someone else had run up to us and I felt myself almost smile at the sight of Eugene.

"Hello fellow hummer!" I almost cringed nodding to the short boy.

"Eugene."

"Did you hear we're getting a new group of students?" I felt my eyebrows furrow wondering why my mother failed to mention this earlier.

A shrill bell rang throughout the quad silencing the crowd.

"Good morning students," my mothers voice getting the male crowd entranced as per usual. I even found some of the girls drooling. I looked over to see Bianca hitting Yoko before she glanced to me, her hand held up in a small wave. I simply nodded, hands clasped behind my back as my mother continued to speak.

"I will be your new Dean Morticia Addams," I felt a few pairs of eyes look my way. My intense glare sending them straight back to their business.

"It is with a bittersweet acceptance that I not only take the position of my late dear friend Larissa Weems but I also honor her with a statue to show our gratitude to a woman who was not into passionate but brave and selfless to our school." 

My mother gestured to my father who pulled a long skirt to reveal said statue it's shine reminding me of the odd way she seemed to see the best on everyone.

Larissa Weems was by far one of the most irritating individuals I had ever dealt with but she was also someone who was driven to seeing the best on everyone, and on some level I could respect that.

"We will also be integrating a new group of individuals into our group of Outcasts, so please join me in providing a warm welcome to the Ramirez siblings." The two teens stepped forward one boy and one girl. The boy was tall and lean, his sister around my height possibly a few inches taller. The boys green eyes scanned the crowd as the girls brown hid behind thick frames. He stood tall thanking my mother with a wide grin as his sister merely nodded.

"Please remember to be kind and to begin this semester with ambition and grace." I watched as my father held his hand out to help my mother down.

"Guess you won't be getting away with as much now that your parents run the school huh?" I glanced at Xavier scoffing.

"You're right I'll get away with a lot more."

I turned and began walking to the library when I had bumped into someone, my head snapping back as I felt paralyzed.

*Vision*

"I told you I didn't do it!" The Ramirez girl was being dragged into a jail cell, her brother watching from the outside. "LET ME GO!"

They had wrapped the girl in a straight jacket, the material far different than the usual cotton.

He turned to walk away my eyes catching sight of a burn on his neck.

*End of Vision*

"Sorry." He grinned down at me. I blinked at him. "I'm Elijah, but you can call me Eli."

He held his hand out to shake but I simply stared at it as he slowly lowered it back down.

"She doesn't really liked to be touched." Xavier towering over me as he spoke to the boy holding his hand out. "I'm Xavier Thorpe, that's Wednesday."

The two shook hands, I turned to go back to my room.

I glanced to see his sister sitting alone by a tree, feeling my stare she looked up at me.

I glanced to see the book she was reading

The Fall of the House of Usher

Interesting.

"How cool is it that your moms the new Dean?" I looked at Enid slightly annoyed.

"It's so cool." I deadpanned.

She grimaced before getting back to her usual preppy self.

"Come on Wednesday it won't be so bad besides she's announced that your father will be introducing a new class."

We walked to the first class of the semester to find my father standing in front of the chalkboard. The same room Laurel used with some slight modifications as I heard a hiss to the right of the entrance.

Enid and I sat down.

"Welcome to Herpetology."

My phone vibrating shortly after.

Unknown

Welcome back Wednesday

.

.

.

It’s an idea I had please leave feedback if I should continue.🥺

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams x fem!reader #female reader

[wordsarelife]

—change

pairing: anthony lockwood x sister!reader

summary: you get hurt on a date and your brother notices that he has grown apart from you

warnings: mentions of injury, one yr age gap relationship (18 + 17)

notes: lucy, lockwood and george are 20 in this. reader has an age gap of 3 years

growing up you found yourself always wandering in the shadows of your older brother, he was your hero, the ideal person in your eyes and you wanted to be everything he was.

although he was only three years older than you, he grew up a faster after your parents death. he did everything possible to give you the childhood that you deserved to have.

but due to that, your relationship was strained. he thought he was protecting you by keeping you out, but instead you felt like an intruder in your own home, which felt more like Anthony's home now, who had no time to play, or to spend time, always hiding in the library, keeping you away from the things he was dealing with.

you had always hoped to one day repair the relationship you two had lost over the years, but no matter what you tried, it didn't work. so one day you just gave up.

two years later

"Lucy, have you seen my green sweater?" you called up the stairs at your best friend. she didn't answer though, you sighed and walked down to the attic, to hopefully find it in the laundry room.

your brother was training downstairs, jumping around the room and swirling his rapier through the air. you tried to move out of the way as best as you could

anthony sighed and stopped the training procedure. "how many times have I told you, not to come down here, while I'm training?"

another one of the reasons that your relationship was so strained, was that he always expected the most from you, which got tiring after awhile, especially because he was your brother and not your father.

"sorry, anti" you turned your back while you rolled your eyes and walked to the drier "I just need my sweater"

"and how many times have I told you not to call me that"

anti had been his childhood nickname, before you could pronounce his name. you preferred to call him that to this day, because first, he hated it and secondly he really approached everything that concerned you with some anti-attitude, so you thought it fit.

"sorry, dad" you replied sarcastically "won't happen again"

"don't call me that either" he sighed "have you found your sweater?"

you turned to look at him and noticed that he was waiting for you to leave, so he could turn the simulation back on.

"nope, its probably in lucy's room. see you later, anti"

"stop calling--" before he could finish his sentence, you had already made your way back up the stairs and closed the door behind you "sorry" you said to yourself "I sadly can't hear you"

"what?" you turned around to look at george, who was sitting at the kitchen table, papers flooding over the whole table

"nothing" you shook your head "have you seen my sweater?"

"which one?" george asked annoyed

"the green one? the one theo found me pretty in, remember?" you smiled, thinking about the brown haired boy that was part of quill kipps' crew and would go on a date with you later today

"theo rowland?" george repeated "why does it matter what he thinks of you?"

"i'm going out with him today" you rolled your eyes at the boy "and i wanted to wear the sweater"

"i think it's in the bathroom" george shrugged, no longer interested in continuing the conversation. you quickly thanked him, before walking out of the room and getting the sweater, that really had been in the bathroom.

after you had gotten ready, you left the house, making your way to the spot you would meet theo at.

it was later that evening, exactly ten minutes after nine, that anthony lockwood would hear loud and hectic knocking on his door. he had been sitting in the library, reading when he finally decided to open the door, the loud noise getting annoying.

"what is it?" he asked, swinging open the door. he couldn't have guessed who had been waiting in front of it.

"rowland?" lockwood asked surpised "what the hell do you want?"

"lockwood!" theo breathed a sigh of relief "something happened" theo's eyes caught lucy's who was walking down the stairs "something with y/n"

"y/n?" lockwood repeated "y/n's upstairs, what could've possibly happened?" "she isn't" lucy shook her head "she was gone the whole afternoon"

"was she now?" lockwood wondered "listen, rowland, i really don't know what you have to do with my sister, but if you don't mind, i really would love to know where she is"

"the hospital"

"the hospital?" both lockwood and lucy screeched "why didn't you say something sooner?" lockwood eagerly grabbed his coat, before he was out the door and calling for a taxi, lucy close behind him

"what the hell happened?" he turned around to look at Theo, pointing an accusing finger at the boys chest.

lucy was already climbing into the taxi. "come on, lockwood"

"if you did something to her--" he pushed theo back

"lockwood!" lucy called again

lockwood took a look in lucy's direction, deciding that he really didn't have any time to discuss anything with theo, before he looked him up and down again "i will find out if you did and now get lost!" he climbed into the taxi, that drove off after he had closed the door.

"y/n!" the relief in lucy's voice calmed lockwood down a bit.

you opened your eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light, when you looked around yourself. "hey"

"hey" lockwood said. he took a look at your arm that was in a cast

"what happened?" lucy pointed at your arm

you looked down "i fell, really hard. but theo brought me here quickly, they gave me something to sleep while they fixed it"

"good" lucy nodded, but sensed the outgoing tension from lockwood

"where have you been? why did you leave the house in the first place?"

"i will get a nurse and tell her you've woken up" lucy excused herself from the room, leaving you and lockwood to talk.

"i was on a date" you answered his question hesitantly

"what?" anthony asked loudly "with theo rowland?" he connected the dots in his head

you nodded.

he laughed bitterly, shaking his head, walking around the room. "no you're way too young for dating and theo rowland as well! this is illegal!"

"what are you even talking about?" you asked "theo is not too old for me"

"did he touch you or anything?" lockwood sat down next to you "i can call barnes"

"what? no!" you got angrier at him "he's a good guy"

"yeah" lockwood rolled his eyes "a good guy dating a fifteen year old"

you looked at him stunned. "i'm seventeen"

"huh?"

"i'm seventeen" you repeated louder "and theo is eigtheen, so everything is fine. and if i want him to touch me, i will let him. he's very respectful"

"you're not seventeen" lockwood shook his head in denial

"yes i am" you said, but softer "what year is it, anthony?"

lockwood clasped a hand over his forehead "shit" he mumbled "you're right"

"it's alright" you shrugged your shoulders

"no it's not and i'm sorry" he admitted "i've been a pretty shitty brother these past few years, i should've kept you closer and not try to shut you out."

"don't say that" you exclaimed "of course i wanted to be closer to you, but i know that you did a lot of that so that i would have a happy childhood. you didn't mean to be cruel"

"i didn't" he nodded

"it's not too late"

"yeah" he smiled. "how about when you get discharged we go out for some donuts at arif's? you can bring theo. i scared him pretty badly, but he told me you were here in the first place, so he deserves an apology" "that sounds good" you smiled

"i love you"

"i love you too, anti"

"just today, i won't say anything to that stupid nickname, but only because you're in the hospital"

"okay" you laughed

#lockwoodandco #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #george karim #anthony lockwood x reader #netflix #ali hadji heshmati #ruby stokes #cameron chapman #lucy carlyle #ghost hunting #lockwood #Anthony Lockwood x sister!reader #lockwood gifs #anthonylockwood #anthony lockwood headcanons #anthony lockwood imagine