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hadesrise · 1 month

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can’t help falling in love.

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

pairings ➳ jason peter todd x addams!male reader

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

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

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, really?” Jason smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

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

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

But sometimes, love makes him afraid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fall down with me further, mon chéri.

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

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

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

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

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

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

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

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

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

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

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

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

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

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

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

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

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For I can’t help falling in love with you

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

Sometimes, he breaks so suddenly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bruce looks down in dejection, nodding his head.

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

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason still didn’t pull out his guns.

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

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

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

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

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

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

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

For I can’t help falling in love with you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For I can’t help falling in love with you

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deadlynavigation · 1 year

Note

Can you write another male Wednesday where they do get married and are newly weds? Please??

Married Life

Pairing: Male!Wednesday Addams x Reader

Warnings: Blunt suggestion of smut, marriage, mention of torture, contact with hot liquid

Author's Note: Ooh, I like you, anon. You used the word please. Characters aged up, same as other fics.

I do not own The Addams Family. Pls don't come after me.

Do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works or their assets.

“Wednesday, put me down,” You laugh, hands gripping the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a small smile making its way onto his face.

“Is it not customary for husbands to carry their wives over the threshold?” Wednesday questions sarcastically, knowing full well the tradition called for that.

You shake your head in exaggerated exasperation, doing your best to restrain your grin. It’ll only encourage his snarky attitude, and you can’t have that.

Wednesday smiles down at you before looking back up at your new home, one that was bought months ago as a post-wedding dwelling for you both. It’s a beautiful house- dark paint covering it, with shades of black complimenting the trimming and accents. And though the house is large, the purple-leaf plum trees provide excellent dimension, as well as a small pop of color. It took days for you to convince Wednesday that the color the plants offered was a good thing, and not everything had to be pitch black. But the convincing was worth it, you think as you stare at your new home. The purple really does tie it together.

Wednesday seems to think so too, judging by his awestruck stare. You laugh quietly at his admiration, determined not to break the moment’s serenity. That, and he looks too sweet to interrupt.

And so you enter the house, or rather, Wednesday carries you into it. Once in the foyer, he gently sets you down, rubbing his hand along the small of your back once he does. You let yourself enjoy the vintage-like atmosphere of the house, your eyes wander over the walls and ceiling before returning to your husband.

Your husband. You could get used to that.

*___*

Barely two weeks into your marriage, and you’re loving every second of it. Sure, the occasional bicker over what type of carpet to buy or what color the sitting room should be painted, but other than that, life is peaceful.

You think about this as you walk down the stairs towards the kitchen, steps echoing through the wide hallways. Light from the windows shines onto the wooden floors, warming the otherwise brisk corridors in early autumnal sunshine.

Finally, you make it to the kitchen, where Wednesday has already set up camp. He’s fretting over the counters, cooking up a storm. That’s another thing about your spouse- almost everyone in his family knows how to cook, and cook well. Of course those skills were handed down to him.

“Hey, babe.” You call out, leaning against the island countertop. Wednesday turns to you, his icy eyes warming a little with your presence.

“Good morning, cara mia.” He strides over to you, wrapping his arms lazily around your hips. You lean into your husband, your eyes fluttering shut in his comforting presence.

“Did you sleep well?” Wednesday murmurs, dropping his chin to rest on your head.

“I did, especially with you there,” you respond, sighing happily.

“I’m flattered, my love.” Wednesday grins. He kisses your head once, twice, before leaning back. “Now, how would you like some coffee?”

You groan. “I love you.”

“I know,” Wednesday smirks, but after a sharp glance from you, he backtracks. “I love you too, cara mia. I’ll go get your coffee.”

He walks back to the countertop, reaching for your favorite mug and bringing it back to you. You take it from him, not-so-accidentally brushing your fingers over his to make him blush like a schoolgirl.

“Thank you, babe.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his cheek before sitting yourself on the top of the counter.

“Anything for you, Y/n.” He follows you to the counter, waiting for you to open your legs so he can slip in between them. “Coffee, torture… pleasure.”

You almost give in, but you’re rudely reminded of your coffee mug when the hot liquid splashes onto your wrist.

“Wednesday, let me finish my coffee before you eat me out.” He snorts at that, lowering his head to hide his grin before backing off.

“Of course, cara mia.” And with a kiss to your forehead, he’s swept away from you and back in front of his cooking, a grin still tainting his lips.

Yeah, you could definitely get used to this.

(Navigation)

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #the addams family #the addams family x reader #wednesday x y/n #requests #fluff #spice #fanfiction #x reader #male!wednesday addams x reader #male wednesday addams

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chicgeekgirl89 · 2 years

Text

Family, Huh?

Fandom: 911 Lone Star and The Rookie

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Francesca Reyes (oc), Adriana Reyes (oc), Angela Lopez, Cruz Lopez, Damian Lopez, Benny Lopez, Emilia Lopez

Summary: Francesca’s got a new boyfriend. Carlos hasn’t even met him yet, but he has concerns.

A/N: So crossover fic is not something I ever thought I’d do. I’m going to say this is a one-time-only gift for @bluenet13, because as we watched “The Fugitive” I remarked that I would love an introduction scene for Carlos’ sisters like the one we got for Angela’s brothers. She said, “Write it please?” So here we are.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Please fake a work emergency so we don’t have to do this,” Carlos sighs as he takes a left, scooting through the busy intersections of LA with an ease brought on by years of driving his cruiser in Austin.

“Okay, first of all, everything I do at work is an emergency, and second of all, no. I want to go,” T.K. tells him.

Carlos gives him an exasperated look. “You only want to go because you’re a chaos gremlin who thrives on the drama.”

T.K. gives him half a smirk. “Maybe a little. Or,” he says, “maybe this time Francesca has actually found her soulmate and we’ll get to see them blissfully happy.”

“He’s a drug addict,” Carlos says.

“And you’re married to one,” T.K. reminds him.

“That’s different.”

“How? Once an addict, always an addict. And this guy is clean. Has been for a long time.”

“So he says,” Carlos tells him. “Francesca’s not a good judge of character. He could be lying to her face and as long as she thought his eyes were pretty, she wouldn’t even notice.”

“Didn’t you say his sister’s a detective? Don’t you think she would have stepped in if something was off?”

“Sometimes even detectives get it wrong. We see it every day, people trusting family members only to get stabbed in the back.”

“Wow,” T.K. says. “You’re going really dark on this Wednesday Addams. I think you need to take a breath and just let what’s going to happen, happen. Your sister doesn’t need a cop, she needs a brother.”

Carlos’ jaw works for a minute as he thinks this through. “I don’t like it when you’re right.”

“I know,” T.K. says. “Also I’d like to point out that if anyone is going to do any stabbing in the relationship, I’d put my money on Francesca.”

Carlos sends him a glare, but it’s tinged with amusement. He knows T.K. is right.

Six months ago Francesca had met a guy from LA online, and the next thing they knew she was in a long distance relationship. She was now splitting time between LA and Austin, and had been begging them all to come out and meet her new beau. Unfortunately Carlos and T.K. had already planned a trip out to LA for vacation, which didn’t leave them a lot of excuses to opt out.

They were on their was to pick Adriana up from the airport, where she was also flying in for the occasion. They would head straight from there to Francesca’s boyfriend’s childhood home to meet the family, and Carlos had been griping morosely about it the entire time.

They pull up to the airport to find Adriana already waiting for them in what she definitely thinks is LA chic: a pair of black shorts, an oversized white button up, gigantic sunglasses, and a suitcase that seems to indicate she’s moving in rather than doing a long weekend.

“Thank god,” she says as she slides into the back seat. “I’ve been standing here forever.”

“You texted us five minutes ago,” Carlos tells her as he pulls back into the stream of traffic.

“I’m perspiring, is my make-up smudged?” She lifts her sunglasses and leans forward to inspect herself in the rearview mirror.

“Put your seatbelt on,” Carlos orders, causing her to pull a face and flip him the bird before she does what he’s asked.

“How was your flight?” T.K. asks.

“Boring as hell,” she says. “They literally had like no in-flight movies. And the guy next to me would NOT stop snoring. Like sir, get yourself a Breathe Right or something.”

“That does sound pretty terrible,” T.K. says, amusement in his eyes as he glances at Carlos who is stoically refusing to look back at him or to find the situation at all funny.

They pull up to the house half an hour later. It’s a small, unassuming Craftsman style home, typical of the area.

Carlos puts the car in park and then turns around to look at Adriana. “Behave,” he warns her.

“What am I, a toddler?” she asks. “What do you mean ‘behave’?”

“I mean do not tell embarrassing stories about me, do not share any incriminating information about our family, do not make any sexual remarks about me and T.K.,” Carlos tells her.

“Would it kill you for once in your life to relax? What do you think I’m going to do? Reveal the secret of the family salsa recipe? God forbid,” she says rolling her eyes as she gets out of the car and strides toward the house.

“What?” Carlos asks when he sees T.K.’s face.

“Nothing,” T.K. tells him, closing the car door firmly.

“I can see your face,” Carlos tells him. “You think I’m being ridiculous.”

“I never think you’re ridiculous,” T.K. says. “Just possibly a tad bit over-protective. And anxious.”

Carlos puffs up in annoyance. “They—“

“Are fully grown adults who can make their own decisions. And if you go in there all cranky, it’s not going to make anyone look bad but you.” T.K. rubs a hand up and down his arm. “Relax. Maybe this will be fun. You never know. Maybe this guy is the one who finally locks Francesca down.”

Adriana is still waiting at the front door, typing rapidly on her phone. She gives Carlos the side eye as they walk up. “Sorry,” he says shortly.

“Sorry for…?”

“Sorry for…being a jerk,” he grinds out.

“He’s nervous,” T.K. adds, ignoring the look of betrayal Carlos sends him.

She smiles brightly. “You’re forgiven. But next time we go out to dinner, you’re buying.”

Carlos’ eyes go wide. “I always buy!”

The door opens and Francesca appears. “Oh my god you’re here!!”

She wraps Adriana in a giant hug, squealing at the top of her lungs and then lavishes the same treatment on Carlos and T.K. “My favorite cousin and my favorite gays, all about to meet my favorite boyfriend,” she says happily.

T.K. can practically see Carlos biting his tongue and he fights back a smile, instead wrapping Carlos’ hand in his and squeezing reassuringly as they enter the house.

On first glance the house looks nothing like the Reyes ranch, but the feeling is the same. There are dozens of photos on the walls; kids missing their front teeth, holding soccer trophies transitioning to wedding photos, grand babies dressed in christening gowns. The refrigerator holds hand made drawings and the smell of tamales hangs in the air.

“Baby!” Francesca waves over a man with a short ponytail. He wraps an arm around her waist and smiles at them. “Baby, this is my brother Carlos, his husband T.K., and my cousin Adriana.”

“Hi, Cruz Lopez,” the man says, shaking their hands in turn. “Welcome to our chaos.”

“Thanks for having us,” T.K. says.

“Oh my god, Cesca, is this your family?” A kind looking woman hurries over to them, wiping her hands on her apron.

“It is,” Francesca says, introducing them to Cruz’s mother Emilia.

“Wow, they are all stunning,” she says, and the way she looks them over makes T.K. feel like he’s being examined for flaws.

“Señora Lopez—” Carlos begins, but she cuts him off.

“You can call me Emilia. We’re practically family now,” she tells him.

“Emilia,” Carlos amends, “thank you so much for having us.”

“Oh, well the more the merrier.” She gives them another appraising look. “Are you two single? I have a couple nieces I think—“

“Mom, they’re married. To each other,” Cruz says and T.K. holds up his left hand in confirmation.

“Oh, my bad,” she says and then turns to Adriana. “How about you dear? My son Benny is desperately in need of a lovely woman like yourself. Or if you’re into women—“

“Oh she’s definitely into men,” Francesca says with a grin.

“Perfect!” Emilia beams. “Come, with me, he’s just out back.”

“Sorry, my mom is desperate for more grandchildren,” Cruz tells them as she whisks Adriana out the back door.

“Cruz!” A woman who can only be his sister rounds the corner. “You let Mom get her hands on one of them already?”

“What was I supposed to do? She swooped in like she always does!” Cruz says.

“Well go rescue her!” the woman demands, shaking her head as he rolls his eyes and goes to do her bidding, Francesca following behind him.

“It’s okay. Adriana can hold her own,” Carlos tells her.

“You’ve never met my mom,” the woman says seriously. “You’re Carlos and T.K., right? I’m Angela. Cruz’s sister.”

“Oh, you’re the detective,” T.K. says as they shake hands. “Carlos is Austin PD.”

“Right, yeah, Francesca mentioned something about that. Weren’t you guys the ones with that case a couple years ago where a nanny kidnapped a kid using the baby monitor?”

“Carlos helped to crack that one,” T.K. say proudly.

Carlos flushes and clears his throat uncomfortably. “That was definitely one of our more harrowing cases.”

“T.K.’s dad ended up doing the take down,” Francesca says, reappearing from nowhere with Adriana on her arm.

“Oh is your dad PD too?” Angela asks.

“Not exactly,” Carlos tells her, sending T.K. a wry smile. “It’s a long story,” T.K. says.

“Oh go on and brag a little Carlitos,” Adriana says. “Everybody knows they should have given you any job you wanted after that.”

“That’s not really how it works,” Carlos says.

“Hola! Anybody here?” A man wearing a priest’s collar wanders into the living room. “Hey sis.”

“Hey,” Angela says back. “This is my brother Damian. Damian this is Francesca’s brother Carlos, his husband T.K., and her cousin Adriana.”

“Nice to meet you,” Damian says. “Where are Wesley and Jackson?”

“Jack has a cold. We decided it was better if he stayed home,” Angela tells him.

“Good, that means you can’t use him to win any arguments,” Cruz says.

“I don’t use him. I win my own arguments,” Angela tells him.

“Sure you do,” Damian says.

Angela glares at him. “You might be a man of God, but I’m not above kicking you in the balls for being an asshole.”

“Angela!” Emilia says in horror as she returns to the room. “That is a terribly unladylike thing to say!”

T.K. is trying so hard to stifle his laughter because everything about this echoes the many interactions he’s witnessed between the Reyes family members over the years. Although Emilia lacks some of Andrea’s grace he realizes as arguing breaks out in Spanish and her voice rises to a level that Andrea would never use in front of guests.

“Okay enough!” Angela finally says. “We have guests!”

“Of course, of course, my apologies,” Emilia says quickly.

“Oh we’re used to it,” Adriana tells her.

“Well please, make yourselves at home. Go outside, there’s lots of food, enjoy yourselves,” Emilia tells them. “Oh, and Adriana, Benny will be here any minute, so don’t disappear on me.”

They head out to the backyard, which is full of other family members, resembling a Reyes get-together so strongly that for a moment T.K. forgets they’re in LA and not Austin.

Francesca and Cruz introduce them to aunts, uncles, cousins, and they fill their plates with delicious food that is almost as good as what they’re used to at the ranch.

It’s a fun afternoon. Francesca seems content with Cruz, although she’s just as quick to start something with Carlos as ever, Adriana joining in ragging on him with glee despite her earlier annoyance at his accusations.

Cruz takes it all in calmly, getting them drinks when they run empty, cleaning up when they’re done eating, and listening politely as they talk. He’s open and honest about his addiction when it comes up, speaking frankly about the meetings he attends, and T.K. doesn’t spot any red flags to indicate that he’s currently using. He holds Francesca’s hand sweetly and doesn’t go for any of the public PDA that her boyfriends usually do. She seems comfortable being herself with him, and that can only be a good thing.

They do eventually meet the other brother who’s there, Benny, and then Angela comes out and she and Carlos spend a long time talking shop while T.K. makes a mental note to bring up taking the detective’s exam again when they get home. His husband is too quick and too good not to at least give himself the option.

Emilia sits with them for a little, and T.K. continues to find her a bit more brusque than Carlos’ mom. She dotes on Francesca though, and the second she brings up grandchildren Francesca quickly and politely shuts her down. Cesca is holding her own in this family and T.K. hopes his husband feels reassured.

“Well we should probably head out,” Carlos says as the afternoon wanes. “We have an early flight tomorrow.”

“Dude, it was so good to meet you,” Cruz says, reaching out and giving him a hearty handshake. “Seriously, so glad you both could come.”

“Maybe next time we’ll host you in Austin,” T.K. says.

“For sure,” he agrees.

Carlos has pulled Francesca into a hug and is saying something quietly into her ear. She looks uncharacteristically serious when she pulls back, giving his arm an extra squeeze before the sass and fun return to her eyes as she turns to T.K. “Thanks for coming stripper boy.”

“Glad to be here,” T.K. tells her, ignoring the jab, even as Cruz raises an eyebrow in question.

“Does Adriana need a ride back to the hotel?” Carlos asks.

T.K. looks around and doesn’t spot her in the crowd, and then realizes it’s been quite a while since they’ve seen her.

“Maybe she’s inside?” Angela suggests. “I need to get home too. I’ll walk out with you.”

They head indoors where Emilia and a couple of aunts are packing up food. They insist on giving a couple tupperwares full to Carlos and T.K. even though they could never possibly eat it all before their flight out.

“Have you seen Adriana?” Angela asks her mom when she finally stops plying them with food and goes back to washing dishes.

“She was talking to Damian a little while ago,” Emilia says. “I’m not sure where they went.”

Carlos’ eyes widen slightly and T.K. knows exactly what he’s thinking. Angela’s posture has also gone slightly rigid. “Maybe they’re in the living room,” she suggests, but her pleasant tone sounds forced.

They follow her out of the kitchen and find no sign of their siblings in the living room. Then there’s a loud thump and a giggle from down the hallway. “Oh god,” Angela says, marching forward with the determination of a sister and a cop who has seen it all.

“You don’t think…” T.K. says to Carlos, who looks grim.

“Oh I absolutely do,” Carlos tells him.

Angela slams her fist into a closed bedroom door. “Damian! Open up!”

There’s another thump and then some hushed, unintelligible whispers. It’s a long minute before the door opens a crack and Damian peeks out, his collar askew, hair a mess. “Hey sis. Did you need something?”

Angela shoves the door open the rest of the way to reveal Adriana, her blouse half unbuttoned, lipstick smudged. “Seriously?” Carlos says a little more loudly than he should. “Two brothers and it had to be the priest Adriana?”

“Well, Tía Maria is always telling me she wishes I was closer to God,” Adriana tells him, clearly not remorseful in the slightest.

“Damian you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Angela says, annoyance in her tone. “Again?”

“Again?” T.K. asks, intensely curious to know more, but Carlos shoots him a glare and he decides to sit this one out.

“What’s going on?” Francesca appears behind them with Cruz. “Ohhhh. Nice one RiRi.”

“Nice one?!” Carlos cries.

“Dude I can’t believe you,” Cruz says in annoyance. “This is a family affair.”

“Actually it’s not an affair this time,” Damian says, straightening his collar a little bit. “Adriana’s not seeing anyone else.”

“Aren’t you like, married to God though?” Francesca asks. “How do you think he’s going to feel?”

“This is what I meant when I said behave!” Carlos grinds out.

“Well you’re not the boss of me Carlitos,” Adriana tells him.

“Yeah you’re not the boss of her,” Francesca chimes in.

The Lopez’s are having a similar argument next to him and T.K. feels like his head is spinning in the verbal volleyball match.

“You know what?” Carlos finally says. “Fine. Whatever. If you want to screw a priest, that’s between you and God. Do you need a ride back to the hotel?”

“Nope, I’m good primo,” Adriana tells him.

“Perfect. Then we’re out of here. See you in Austin,” Carlos says.

Angela follows them to the front door. “I’m so sorry about that,” she says.

Carlos holds up a hand. “Don’t be,” he says. “I would love to tell you this is the first time something like this has happened, but it’s definitely not.”

“Family huh?” she asks knowingly.

He nods. “Yeah. Family.”

T.K. and Carlos bid Angela goodbye and get into their rental car in near silence. “Okay, you had to know it was going to happen,” T.K. says finally.

“Of course I knew!” Carlos splutters. “I just didn’t think it would be with the priest!”

“Yeah that was unexpected,” T.K. says.

Carlos shakes his head. “Everything is with her.”

“Cesca seems happy though,” T.K. says.

At this Carlos seems to relax a little. “Yeah, she does.”

“And the family seems good. A little high maintenance, but she can handle it.”

“Oh she definitely can,” Carlos says, pulling a face that says he knows only too well how much his sister is willing to handle. “God I’m so glad you were here. How did I ever handle any of this without you?”

“I mean, I didn’t really do anything,” T.K. tells him.

“Your presence alone is enough to keep me from killing any of them in public.”

“Ooooh, is that why you married me? I’ve been wondering.”

“Among other things,” Carlos says, sending him a cheeky smile.

T.K. thinks for a minute. “So, are we telling Tía Maria?”

“Unless we want her to drop dead, we definitely are not.”

#This is just actual chaos #Big group scenes are crazy to write #911 Lone Star #The Rookie #Carlos Reyes #TK Strand #Angela Lopez

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

tuxedo iv, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: Your life? Oh, it’s normal. Your cat turned into a man yesterday and you just now humped his leg to orgasm. Sorry, what? That’s not normal? O-Of course, it is! It’s like... having a roommate! You argue because you recorded him without his consent. You eat noodles that he’s trying not to bat at all meal. There are skeletons in your closet. Your fingers get stuck in a Chinese finger trap and then you get fingered. Totally normal, by the way!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi LOVES his box; smut (fem reader, mild restraint, penetrative sex, forced orgasms, intentional voyeurism (tsk tsk, Shooky), fingering); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft shy boy Jeon Jungkook (gasp!!!) POV and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin POV; breaking of the fourth wall; you ARE a furry, oh well

yes, I reference Jin’s iconic Billboard interview answer, The Lion King (1994), Yoongi’s BTS café cereal milkshake, Bill Nye the Science Guy, PENTAGON’s ‘DO or NOT’ / ‘Shine’ / ‘Humph!”, “you got no jams”, The Addams Family (1991) – also there’s a bit of a meme scavenger hunt, I reference too many to list XD

–

part i | part ii | part iii

So.

You kinda.

Humped your cat-man’s thigh to orgasm.

You animal.

“Ah… Yoongi,” you started as your cat… man tilted his head, blinking slowly. Unnerving. Why was he staring like that? It reminded you of his previous cat self, where Shooky would watch you with his minty-green eyes, cat face expressionless, whiskers unmoving. What were cats thinking about all the time anyway?

Better yet, what the fuck was Min Yoongi thinking?

You knew what you were thinking. You were thinking that you couldn’t stare at you cum stain on his pink silk pajama leg all day, because that was a master yikes. He had tons of clothes still piled next to the front door of your apartment. All you had to do was convince him to change his outfit. Simple. Easy. Don’t make this weird. Be casual. Be cool as a cucumber. Chill out.

“Um… You should… take off the pajamas… so I can wash them… there are still more clothes you need to try on from the order, right…?”

Your dignity threw up their hands. Why do I even bother being here? I get ignored, the brain in here is smoother than KY Jelly on glass, and you would know, wouldn’t you, you–

“Take them off for me.”

“… P… Pardon?”

“I’m joking.”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at your raised hands. You abruptly dropped them, shoving them behind your back. When did that happen? Why did you make grabby hands like that? Surely not because you were expecting anything, right? Definitely not. Not you.

You need help.

Yoongi turned around, black fur tall swishing, the back of his pink silk pants half-lowered. Your jaw went slack, only to forcefully shut back into place as you realized he was still wearing his black boxer briefs since you had spent yesterday sewing tail holes in his convenience store underwear. Of course, he was still wearing them. There was no reason to take them off.

What, did you want to look at his booty again or something?

(Yes.)

He went through the doorframe of your bedroom without saying a word.

Hold on a second.

Did Yoongi let you ride his thigh to orgasm, be sweet to you for two seconds, only to fucking bounce without a peep of acknowledgment? Just fucking yeet? Act like that was totally ordinary behavior and saunter off?

Say sike right now.

A millisecond of bravery shot through you and you bolted out of your chair, your desk rattling with your sudden action.

"Yoongi–!"

You nearly collided into him. You weren’t expecting him to be facing you and you yelped in surprise, skidding on your heels. His hands stopped your hips, freezing you in place so you didn't barrel headfirst into his chest. You flailed about, struggling to regain your balance. All this happening while he continued giving you that deadpan stare. Did anything faze this (cat) man? Shit, you were too close to his face. So close you could feel his breath on your nose.

"You should change too."

Brain malfunctioning at the softness of his tone.

"... W-What?"

Then your neck, ears, face, even your past and future self, the whole timeline became hotter than a supernova, brain erupting into nuclear fusion as Yoongi's deft fingers slid up to the waistband of your leggings, hooking underneath, stroking your skin. He leaned forward, dark eyes out of your vision, chin hovering above your shoulder.

"Urk?!"

He started pushing your leggings down.

He started.

Pushing.

Them.

DOWN!!!

"You can't stay like this all day, right?" Yoongi murmured gently, voice so deep it was resonating in your empty brain, completely clear of all thoughts except those cool fingers pushing your black leggings down, the skintight fabric catching your soaked panties and taking those on the path to hell too, which was probably where you were headed at the rate this was going. "It would be a good idea to change clothes, I think."

You think, Yoongi?

Not you.

You don't have think.

A shrill barrage of low meowing cut through the silence.

Your phone was ringing violently in your room. Yoongi paused, backing up with a frown.

"Why is your ringtone a cat chattering?" he asked, tilting his head quizzically. The continuing sonata of cat chitters escalated before his dark eyes narrowed in recognition. He glared at you and pulled his hands away from your hips, snapping you out of your daze.

"You recorded me?"

"What, what, what?" You blinked rapidly, hearing the familiar sharp chirps and barks of Shooky the cat yelling at birds outside the window. "Oh! Well, yeah... it was funny," you explained weakly, trying to shake out the fog of your horny brain.

"There's nothing funny about trespassers," Yoongi hissed, turning his heel and swiftly marching away.

"Trespassers?" you echoed, blinking in confusion. That’s why he yelled at them as a cat? Did he think he owned all the land the sun touches or something? The sound was getting louder and louder, indicating the call was about to be missed. No time to think about it. You rushed back into your room, nearly half tripping with your leggings only partway on your ass, scrambling to answer your phone. There was an uncomfortable squish between your legs. Yikes. You did need to change.

"Hello? Oh, yes, the video? I'm putting it in the Dropbox right now," you babbled, clicking out of a bizarre pop-up ad with some brown-haired guy in a sienna floral shirt and a boxy smile before placing the exported video in the shared Dropbox folder.

"Sorry, yeah, I know I usually have it done earlier. It's been a weird couple of days..."

Kim Seokjin was furious.

Furious!

His best friend ignored his face. His beautiful face! How could she! He fumed, deciding to instead spend his time wisely, as he always did.

He stared at his reflection and nodded, stroking his chin. Yes. A true winner. Look at that brilliant smile. Perfect. He looked great today, as he did every day. Seokjin looked away from the mirror on his desk and went back to his MapleStory life.

After a quick change and final edits of the completed video sent off to the client, you left your room to find that Yoongi had stacked his new clothes on the coffee table. The brown cardboard box was on the sofa with him (???), as if it was a human being instead of an ordinary box. He had neatly folded the plastic packaging and placed it on the kitchen counter so you could sort it into the correct recycling.

"Oh... thanks."

He was now wearing a white t-shirt and black pants that actually seemed like they fit, the back of said pants halfway down his butt to accommodate for his tail. He was watching that historical drama; eyes glued the television. The dark brown orbs were hidden by his curtain of black hair. His pointed black ears were turned away from your direction, as if he had no desire to listen to anything you had to say.

As usual.

Yoongi's response was grunting disapprovingly at you.

You sighed, feeling a little guilty.

"To be fair, I couldn't really ask your consent when you were a cat."

Your cat-man appeared to be out of fucks to give. "You should do laundry," he huffed gruffly.

You scooted away awkwardly. "Er... yeah. Let me order some delivery for lunch first..."

"Yoongi."

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

He stared at his chopsticks, holding them up high.

"Hmm..."

His pink lips twisted, narrowing his eyes. The fingers in his other hand twitched. He had been staring at the noodles in his ramen for the past five minutes. They were probably cold now. You were getting a bit worried that he didn't like carbs or something. But then you realized that wasn't the case.

His fingers twitched again.

"They're noodles. Not string."

Yoongi didn't reply, itching to bat at the long noodles.

"Just put them in your mouth."

He gave you this look. As if to tell you, you don't usually say that. Usually someone else tells you that.

You thinned your mouth into a line.

"I know you're admiring the skinny legend that is noodles, but, yes, they're edible. Need I remind you that you used to eat string and I had to pull it out of your mouth when you choked on it?"

Yoongi scowled. Apparently, he did not like being reminded. It wasn’t that pleasant for you to remember either. At least you never had to wait until it passed through his body and never had to pull it out of the other end (ew). He peered them for several more seconds before putting them in his mouth. You noticed his ears perked up as he ate.

"You like them?" you asked.

He hummed, not looking at you. Was Yoongi still angry about the recording thing? You weren't changing your ringtone regardless of his dissatisfaction. It was cute. You liked it. And he was being a drama queen, acting all catty.

Hold on.

He was a cat.

(Man.)

"What is this?"

"Dessert."

You took a sip and choked a little at the grainy taste.

"Is that cereal?"

"Yeah. It's too hard. Better this way."

You gawked at him, holding the weird cereal milkshake with one hand and his half-sewn pants in the other. Was Yoongi being serious or fucking with you? You couldn't tell. His expression was completely neutral. His cat ears were straight up, trained in your direction, judging your reaction. He lifted his free hand and dropped a handful of rice crisps on the top of the thick white drink.

Well.

Not your preferred thick white drink.

(You nasty.)

He nodded sagely and sat down beside you.

"Show me how to sew."

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for you to, please, consider the following.

See, by all recommendations of building healthy relationships, you should have been a responsible human being and had a serious, but necessary, conversation with your (new?) cat-man.

Hey, Yoongi, I find you quite physically attractive and we had that moment in my bedroom, so maybe there's some chemistry and, oh, I don't know, maybe you could stick that prefect looking dick inside me because I've been thinking about it nonstop since (checking watch) the literal second I realized it existed, not to be too forward or anything, you know?

That kind of speech could get you a quick restraining order in most cases, but this was your cat (man) who had lived with you – maybe against his will but, then again, he got fed regularly and when you were previously a stray you can’t complain.

So.

Do or not?

Hmm...

You could have admitted these things, but, alas, this was not the way. No, the way was to remain an absolute fucking mess every time Yoongi leaned over your shoulder to inspect your needlework, nearly stabbing yourself in the finger, your heart leaping your throat, strangling yourself with anxiety.

Fun!

Could everything be quickly solved by telling the truth?

Debatable. Yoongi didn’t seem like the kind of (cat) man to give you a straight answer. Not because he couldn’t. Mostly because he seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. Were you picking up on that?

No. You were too busy thinking about dick.

His dick.

Honestly, don't know if you should laugh or cry right now.

Jeon Jungkook flipped his phone around and around in his hand, scrunching up his face.

Should he say something?

Yes. No. Yes? No. Yes… No, no, no.

He sighed and threw his phone onto his bed.

He missed and it slid off, hitting the floor.

That was a bad sign.

“Shit.”

He dived onto the bed, scabbing around on the hardwood to pick up the fallen device. Ah, how come he was thinking about this now? He knew why. He had watched a funny cat video of a tuxedo cat and it reminded him of a certain naughty little fluffball always following around a certain owner. Jungkook hadn’t contacted said owner in nearly a year. Wouldn’t it look bad if he said anything now? But he couldn’t not think about it either. That smile was on his mind all the time now. That feeling from back then, floating around in his head. He sighed again, followed by inhaling with his upper teeth pressed against his inner lower lip, creating a loud sucking sound that no one else could hear because he lived alone.

Alone.

Jungkook lifted his phone, dying sunlight reflecting off the screen, a shine that blinded him for a short moment. He clicked his tongue, squinting as he spied the number still on the screen.

“Ah, why am I always a loser in front of love?”

He wasn’t really saying it to anyone in particular. No one could reply to him anyway.

He tossed the phone carelessly on the pillow and it slid behind it, falling in between the mattress and the bedframe.

“Shit!”

Jungkook spent five minutes fishing his phone out of the narrow crevice before firmly placing it on the bed beside him, pointing at it angrily, glaring at it.

“No! Bad.”

The phone did nothing. It was not sentiment.

Humph! He let out a frustrated puff of breath and flopped down on the bed.

His phone flew up from the force of his flop and smacked him in the nuts.

“SHIT!”

“Huh, you pick up things so fast. So meticulous.”

You watched as Yoongi brought the needle through the fabric in slow but clean strokes, following your previous demonstration. For someone who only had opposable thumbs for less than two days, he was surprisingly dexterous. Seemed like he could do a lot with his hands. No. Stop that. Stop being weird.

“Are you a genius?”

Yoongi didn’t hesitate, not looking up.

“Of course.”

You regretted asking. He continued, oblivious to your annoyed expression.

“I’m a cat.”

“All cats are geniuses?” you retorted disbelievingly.

“Most of them are.” His eyes flickered to you, eyebrows raising. “Compared to humans anyway.”

Was this a dig at you and your missing brain cells after running into things chasing after him and your brain exploding at his hotness? Which he wasn’t, by the way. Yeah, that’s right. Take that, Min Yoongi! You’re being mean, so therefore your attractiveness points are going down in this brain, yes, they are and there’s nothing you can do about it, yup, absolutely NOTHING–

He held up the pants, showing off his handiwork.

“Did I do a good job?”

His voice was soft, unsure, head slightly tilted, velvety ears eagerly perked to listen to your response.

Oh no.

Oh nooo.

Oh nooooooo.

He’s cute.

“Yeah. That looks amazing, Yoongi,” you heard yourself saying, smiling at him.

His fair-skinned cheeks flushed pink, lowering the pants quickly to snip the excess thread off, placing the needle in the cat-shaped pincushion like you had done earlier so he could carefully tie a knot to seal his hard work.

Shit.

You were whipped for him.

Damnnit.

To be honest, nothing had changed. You were whipped for him as a cat too.

“I’m going to clear out some space the closet so you have somewhere to put your clothes, okay?”

“A-ah… Thanks…” he mumbled, picking up another pair of pants. Jeans this time.

“Oh, with these you can simply cut the hole. No need to sew because this type of fabric won’t fray too much. Ah, but not directly on the seam. Maybe here?” You pointed slightly to the right of the back middle seam. Your mouth kept talking despite not having any more instructions for him. “Did you know the butt rip was fashionable among women for a little while? Under the pocket though, not the center. That’s just weird.”

Yoongi tilted his head the other way.

“Women are weird,” he said in a deadpan voice.

You narrowed your eyes. “Oi.”

He picked up the scissors, raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you not weird?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He’s got you there. Shit. You puffed your cheeks and turned around, stalking off to your bedroom. Why was he always right? One day, he won’t be right and you’ll mark it on your fucking calendar. Humph.

You slowed at your doorframe, remembering his sheepishly proud face as he showed off his sewing. Crap. What was Min Yoongi so cute for? And how were you supposed to look at other guys after knowing your cat (man) was so damn adorable? And observant and diligent? And driven to be independent, asking questions and trying to do things on his own not even forty-eight hours after becoming human? Cooking, sewing, folding his own clothes… what’s next, playing the fucking piano?

Yeah, right.

You snorted and went into your bedroom.

“What’s this?”

You looked up, half-buried in idol merchandise you didn’t even know you had. How long had these sweatshirts been sitting here in their plastic packages? And these posters left in the tubes at the back of your closet? You shouldn’t own so much stuff. You should sell it. You weren’t going to, because these were limited edition items and you would have to be crazy to sell stuff with the cute faces of your favorite idols. You stuck you head out of the closet to see what Yoongi was referring to.

“What? Oh, that?”

You wheezed in embarrassment, ducking back in the closet, pretending to be busy.

“Uh… so… YouTube and Twitch had a crackdown on using copyrighted music and I thought, well, maybe I could maybe make my own, so I brought a keyboard but, uh…”

You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly, trying to figure out how to say you had no musical inclination and only had the ability to appreciate it.

“Basically, I got no jams.”

The keyboard was still in its box. You had opened it and attempted to learn piano, but well, you were shit. Also, you gave up pretty quickly. It was embarrassing considering you had spent so much money on it and were all confident when buying it, only for it to become a hidden occupant in the back of your closet. This was before Shooky – er, Yoongi – had come into your life. Yes. It had been there for literal years.

“I was going to donate it,” you added with a sigh.

You suddenly noticed something out of the corner of your eye. You frowned and reached in, grabbing the thin, hard object before pulling it out.

A…

Skeleton in your closet.

A long-lost Halloween decoration? Why was this here?

“Can I have it?”

You looked up, holding the mysterious plastic skeleton like a small child. “What?”

Yoongi pointed to the keyboard box, black tail swishing rapidly. There was a liveliness in his dark brown eyes and his pointed ears were sticking straight up. You narrowed your eyes.

“You don’t want that skinny box for some reason, do you?” you accused.

He pursed his lips at you, scowling. “No, you can throw away the box. I want to keep the keyboard.”

Huh? “Uh… okay, I guess. More space in the closet, I suppose. Oh, wait…” You stumbled into the back of the closet, feeling around. “I brought a stand for it, hold on… fuck!” You jammed your finger against a metal pole and howled, quickly retreating your hand to massage it. Fuck, that hurt! Scowling, you reached back in to grab the metal keyboard stand and yank it out from between your tightly packed clothes.

“Are you dead?”

“Shit!”

You jumped nearly ten feet, almost banging your head on the clothing rail if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s swift movement of grabbing your shoulders, pulling you to him. He didn’t have to pull far, because he was right behind you. How did he always sneak up on you when he wore a damn bell around his neck that announced his presence? Sorcery. Aliens. Voodoo witchcraft. Now you were convinced these things existed.

(Your cat turning into a man wasn’t enough for you to believe in magic? What’s wrong with you?)

“You’re really clumsy,” Yoongi remarked.

No, you’re spooky, you thought. One of your hands was on his chest. Instant heart palpitations. And handsome. Crap.

“Are you going to do something weird again?”

Weird? You were never weird. What was this man going on about? You needed to reprimand him. Put him in his place! Enough is enough, Min Yoongi! You can’t win over me every time! You raised your head to face him, opening your mouth to give him a piece of your mind.

Yoongi was centimeters away from your face.

You froze.

Ice effect overlapping your whole body.

You dropped the keyboard stand.

Thankfully, it simply fell against your clothing, leaning against your sweatshirts. It stayed upright, held up by the clothing. You didn’t have to worry about it for the time being. It was perfectly fine, unlike you. You were not fine. Not fine at all, staring at Yoongi’s upturned upper lip and unreadable dark brown eyes, slowly blinking at you. Hands on your shoulders, holding you close to him.

Not letting go.

!!!

Jeon Jungkook placed his phone on his desk and chopped the air, threatening it.

It wasn’t sentient.

He still didn’t trust it.

He glared at his phone angrily and shuffled back to his bed to have a nice, calm rest that didn’t involve his nuts getting destroyed. Ugh. He was bored. He had plenty to do. Schoolwork. Studying. Cleaning his room covered in clothes. Attempting to cook.

Jungkook made a face at the ceiling.

The last time he tried to cook some glazed sweet potatoes they had been glued to the plate somehow. A neat magic trick, but not edible. He couldn’t get them to unstick, much less be eaten. He had to order out that night. Come to think of it, he spent most of his money on ordering out. Maybe that was a bad habit.

He ran a hand through his bleached, blond hair that had too much toner in it so it had turned slightly silvery-purple. An at-home experiment. Another bad habit.

Jungkook groaned, rolling onto his face.

“I need someone older to take care of me,” he mumbled into the sheets.

Someone older… with a certain tuxedo cat, perhaps? He pouted even though no one was there to witness his cuteness.

“Ahhhhhhh…”

He yelled quietly into his bedding, letting go.

Finally thinking about you.

In front of you, he could tease. He could poke fun. It was easy. You were just so flustered around him, not really trying to hide your attraction to him. The first time he had met you was when he went bowling with Seokjin-hyung (he won, much to the disdain of his hyung). You had stopped by to say hello and Seokjin had introduced you two. It had been a fairly innocent meeting, mostly because for a long time Jungkook couldn’t open his mouth to say anything at all. You were wearing a huge white t-shirt with a colorful strawberry graphic, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and white sneakers with black laces. It had been a hot summer day, he remembered. You were already pretty simply by standing there, chatting animatedly with his hyung. Jungkook tried not to look too closely, sneaking glances in between your conversation.

Seokjin had absolutely no qualms about shitting on your outfit.

“Yah, grandma, you’re off to pick some strawberries in the field or something?”

You had shoved him, rolling your eyes. “You’re a grandpa too! Look at you, losing to kid.”

Was that referring to him? “Ah, I’m not a kid.” Shit. His Busan dialect slipped out a little in his nervousness, deepening his voice.

Your cheeks had peppered pink. “A-ah… right…”

Oh?

Oh!

Oh!!!

You shook your head abruptly and reached into your tuxedo-cat-printed tote bag. “Here’s your freaking hard drive, you monkey,” you had said to Seokjin, handing over the small paper bag.

“Did you manage to restore all my files?” Seokjin asked worriedly, completely ignoring your insult.

You shrugged, looking rueful. “I don’t know how many you had, but I did the best I could.” You leaned forward, eyes narrowing, whispering in his ear. Didn’t matter. Jungkook was close enough to hear.

“Stop downloading porn!”

Jungkook snorted.

Seokjin glared at you. “Excuse me, I am living a healthy lifestyle, do not judge me!” he hissed. “And not in front of the child!”

Yeah, well, Jungkook didn’t let you think he was a child for long.

He wasn't really sure why he was attracted to you. It wasn't only because you were pretty. He just had a strong urge to get a reaction out of you. Ah, maybe that was it. He liked seeing your reactions to things and did everything he could to get more and more interesting reactions out of you. You never told Jungkook to stop. You told Seokjin to stop all the time.

"I swear if you make one more pun, I'm going to tie your tongue into a knot!"

"Then I'd really be tongue-tied, eh? Eh?! WAIT, NO, WATCH THE FACE, NOT MY FACE!!!"

Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to mess with you.

Fuck.

(Yes, actually.)

He couldn't stop. It was too fun. It didn't help that you had a cute surprised face. Didn't help that you had a great smile. Didn’t help that you had an amazing body under your clothes and knew exactly how to use it (Jungkook wouldn’t admit it, but he learned a lot from you). Didn't help that you would chase after your tuxedo cat and scoop up that furball even after getting railed by him, which Jungkook found very impressive.

"Shooky, you loon, I told you to stop running on the counters..."

And you would cradle that cat to your chest, petting his head and waiting for him to purr and lick your nose before releasing him, satisfied that he was no longer going to be a menace. He still was though. He was a cat. You forgave Shooky every time.

Just like how you let Jungkook get away with everything.

Present Jungkook frowned, rolling onto his back, frowning at the ceiling. Maybe you thought he was a fuckboy and had a negative image of him. He scratched his head, tongue in cheek, thinking hard. No. You didn't seem like the type. You were never angry at him, not really, not even when he interrupted your work to mess around in bed. Exasperated, maybe, but it never seemed like you were holding an internal grudge or upset at his nonchalant actions. Ah, but he hadn’t tried to talk to you in almost a whole year. Would you think he was a dick if he tried to contact you now? He couldn’t ask you. He couldn’t ask your best friend. Seokjin-hyung still had no idea.

Jungkook laughed to himself.

He kind of went behind his hyung's back, whoops.

He looked to his left side, the side you used to fall asleep on when he spent the night. He could imagine it, your past self and his past self, your hair on your pillow, blankets loosely over your chest, his hand on your breasts as you slept.

A pair of mint-green eyes glaring at him from the left side of your body.

Jungkook remembered poking that pink nose with his index finger, the rest of his hand still on your tits. The tuxedo cat had given him a very displeased look.

"Are you mad?"

The cat didn't reply. He was a cat.

"You're really lucky. You get to be with her every day," Jungkook had whispered, not wanting to wake you up. "She takes good care of you, you know. I see how much she loves you."

The cat closed his eyes, resting his furry head on your arm.

"Do you love her back?"

Maybe. Maybe not. Jungkook didn't know. He wasn't a cat. He couldn't ask in cat language. He let go of your breasts for a second to scratch the top of Shooky's head, right between those velvety ears. He began purring like a little motor.

You continued your adventures in la la land, oblivious to this interaction.

"I guess cats are kind of simple, huh?" Jungkook mused, smoothing out the black fur on top of that little head. "You don't have to think about much. You don't have to get a job, plan for the future, or worry about being a good husband."

His hand lowered.

"But I do."

You breathed softly against him, nuzzling closer to his body. Jungkook put his hand back on your breasts and you stilled, lost in your dreams. He breathed out, warmth against your skin. He saw the side of your lips twitch ever so slightly upwards, but maybe it was only his imagination wishing to see what he wanted.

Only a wish.

He had placed his nose by your cheek and breathed in, losing himself in dreams as well.

Yoongi looked into your eyes.

Then both of you turned to opposite sides and sneezed loudly.

"Fuck–"

"That was horrible," Yoongi hissed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and backing up. "Ugh, human bodies are awful."

You shook your head roughly. "Someone must be thinking about me... and you, I guess..." you mumbled, clearing your head before prodding him in the chest. "Also, last time I checked, now you're human too, so jokes on you. Hope you enjoy the suffering!" You stuck your tongue out childishly.

Yoongi gave you an annoyed look, reaching over you to grab the keyboard stand. You stiffened at his closeness, but he quickly withdrew, taking the metal stand and leaving you disappointed, but not surprised. Couldn't even pretend to be shocked.

He lifted it up so it wouldn’t drag on the floor and began to walk out of the room, ignoring you.

Classic.

You thinned your mouth into a line and picked up the white plastic skeleton. What to do with this? Fuck it. Back into the closet it goes, along with your winter wardrobe, summer wardrobe, and other knickknacks.

Well.

Maybe you could donate a couple things to charity.

Like this Chinese finger trap. Why was this here?

You stuck your fingers in it.

S... shit!

Yoongi reappeared to grab the keyboard. You opened your mouth, about to ask for help, looking up to see your cat-man standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, glaring. Very displeased and disapproving, reminding you a whole lot of a certain tuxedo fluffball.

"I'll say it again."

Huh? You gave him a confused look.

He pointed to his pointed, velvety black ears.

"I'm a cat, duh."

And then he walked out. Fuck him. You didn't need his help.

You couldn’t get it off.

Panik!

Yes, you can. It was just a finger trap. You were smart. You graduated university. You had been a human for many more years than Min Yoongi. He had been human for two days! And besides, Yoongi was mean. You didn’t need a meanie to help you. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no (cat) man.

Kalm.

You…

You couldn’t get it off!!!

PANIK!!!!!!!

“… What are you doing?”

You were the epitome of the emoji holding back tears.

“Y… Yoongi…” you whined.

He blinked at you, holding the manual of the keyboard upside down. The keyboard was already set up on the stand, pushed up against one of the walls of your living room. He was using the cardboard box that his clothes came in – he really loved that damn box – as a makeshift seat.

“Are you dying?”

You held up your hands, pouting. The bronze dragon Chinese finger trap was still stuck on your index fingers. It had been roughly twenty, maybe thirty minutes.

Your cat-man just blinked at you and it.

“I… can’t get it off… Help…”

He raised an eyebrow and put the manual on the keyboard before walking over to you. He placed his chin in between his index finger and his thumb, frowning. Looking this way and that. The realization was slowly kicking in.

Yoongi wasn’t hiding his smirk very well.

“You know how to take it off!” you howled, smacking him in the chest.

He cackled, backing up as you repeatedly whacked him with the back of your hands, furious because it was obvious that he knew what to do and was simply not doing it to piss you off, his grin getting wider and wider, still not saying anything, this little shit, backing up into your living room as you chased him, stupid cat-man was fucking fast, dodging you easily, your joined hands and annoyed demeanor making you a bit wobbly.

“Min Yoongi, I swear I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” he teased, raising his hands in mock innocence. “Maybe I don’t know?”

You scowled at him. “You definitely know.”

He smirked.

Shit.

It was sexy and you were supposed to be mad!

You were next to the keyboard now. And a certain something. Hm. You jerked your head to the cardboard box. His eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“I would.”

“You wouldn’t, you heathen.”

“You better fucking believe I would!”

(You’re threatening to recycle a cardboard box to force your cat-man to get you out of a metal finger trap that you put yourself in. Um, are you okay? Better yet, are both of you okay???)

He marched over to you, relenting with an angry huff, yanking up your hands.

“There’s a trick to it, of course.”

He pressed the dragon’s horns in tandem with the dragon’s beard on either side and the trap released your red fingers, making you gasp at the sudden freedom. Holy shit. You stared at your freed index fingers. You had two hands. Wow. Amazing. Show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique…

Yoongi placed the finger trap on the coffee table.

“Hmph. This thing is probably only worth three dollars.”

You poked your index fingers together, suddenly ashamed. “Sorry I threatened your box.”

Yoongi grunted, cat ears flicking back and forth in annoyance.

You poked his stomach with your index fingers. “Er… I just… wanted you to help me...”

“You weren’t going to do it anyway.”

You puffed your cheeks, narrowing your eyes, irritation flaring back. “Well, maybe I was! What were you going to do, leave me like that, unable to use my hands for the rest of my life?” You jabbed him repeatedly in the chest, driving your point home in between your snappish words. “Hmm? I need hands to do things! Important things!”

Yoongi suddenly grabbed your wrists and held them up over your head.

(Aw shit, here we go again.)

“Y-Yoongi?!”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“What important things do you need to do with your hands?” he asked.

Oh shit.

Oh no.

Why was his vice suddenly so deep? Did he even know???

Your eyes widened, brain malfunctioning, your last two working brain cells rushing to the library to find the book titled ‘things you can do with your hands’, opening it, reading, handsy things. That was it. That was all you had at this moment. Why was it that your brain had the memory equal to the RAM of a fucking Tamagotchi every time your cat-man touched you?

Oh, yeah, that’s right, because he was a cat literally two days ago and you never thought about fucking your cat because that’s just fucking weird, but now he’s a man, so maybe it’s okay, unless it’s not, and then what does that make you? FUCKING WEIRD, THAT’S WHAT.

You yelped as your back collided to the wall. When had you walked that far? What was going on? What was life??? You were yanked back to reality as Yoongi leaned down, tilting his head, eyebrow still cocked, dark eyes darker from his fluffy black hair falling over his eyes.

“I hear you don’t always like being able to use your hands.”

Holyfuckingshitcrap.

Instantly, your cheerful brain decided to play the memory of you begging Jeon Jungkook to hold down your wrists so you couldn’t stop him and his relentless assault on your pussy, one hand grasping both your wrists and the other rubbing two fingers on your clit, thrusting his hard cock in and out of you as he abused the sensitive bundle of nerves, pinning you to your bed, panting in your face.

“You like this, noona?” Jungkook had purred.

(Respectfully.)

Voice low, deep, and sexy, driving you insane, waves of pleasure crashing into you over and over, pussy throbbing with repeated orgasm.

“F-Fuck, yes, oh fuck, Jungkook, yes… don’t s-stooop…”

Shooky had sat on the highest level of his cat tree, glaring down at you two.

Shit, shit, shit…

Yoongi leaned in even more, eyes disappearing, lips next to your ear. You felt him transfer one of your wrists to his other hand, now holding both with one hand as the other fell against your body.

“In fact, I’ve seen it firsthand,” he whispered, low, soft, dangerous.

Your brain ended the film reel in your head, giving you two mental thumbs-up and beaming happily at you as if it had done a great thing.

No, brain.

You’ve fucked me over and now I’m horny as fuck!

A needy whimper popped out of you as Yoongi’s free hand slipped between your bodies, fingers dancing deftly across the fabric of your sweatshirt, following the rhythm of your racing heart as it went down, down, too fast, sanity unable to keep up, you rising into his touch, his fingers sliding underneath the waistband of your leggings. This pair wasn’t as tight as the previous pair, but the fabric still clung to your skin just as tightly.

Wait. Is that you? Moaning?

(Yes.)

He dragged them down your hips, having to let go of the waistband for a moment to push them past the sides before resuming, you moaning in the space where he should have a human ear, but he didn’t, because Yoongi was a cat-man and his pointed furry ears were at the top of his head.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Hm?”

His soft lips lightly pressed against your ear and you shivered. His grip on your wrists wasn’t very tight. You could break out any time. He was only loosely holding you.

“I… I am…” you quivered, voice shaking.

“I want to make you feel good.”

His murmur was so gentle, so calm, so quiet that it almost didn’t feel real. Almost a purr.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Thump.

“Yes.”

You said it.

Your panties were leaving with your leggings, shoved down mid-thigh. Your name in your ear, spoken by Min Yoongi, his body hovering over yours, black hair against your cheek, his fingers slipping between your legs, your heart slamming in your chest, thighs squeezing his hand.

“Feels nice here,” Yoongi mumbled, breath feathering on your skin. A single finger grazed your wetness and you gasped, his raspy chuckle in your ear. “Wet.”

Your eye twitched, slightly annoyed. No, really? Thanks for letting me know, it’s not like I can fucking feel it myself or anything, I absolutely need your riveting play-by-play–

“Urk!”

Yoongi scooped two fingers into your pussy and felt around inside, rubbing his fingertips against your throbbing walls.

“Ah…” He was breathing hard, pushing them in joint by joint, his own inhale shallowing. “Fuck, it’s so tight in here, are you alright?”

Oh, my fucking God, Yoongi, just fucking destroy me, I’m not a virgin!

You sucked in a shaking breath, mentally beating your inner thot back down. “F-Feels really nice, Yoongi… just… a little more…” He sank his fingers all the way to the knuckles. “Fuuuck, yes, oh, fuck yes…”

You rocked your hips into it, moaning, eyes closing, building up a pace, not really waiting for him to figure out that he could move his fingers too. It didn’t matter though, because Yoongi was highly observant and diligent, and, as much as you avoided to admit it, he had seen you get fingered hundreds of times, all over the apartment, in all sorts of embarrassing positions and with plenty of visible, graphic, high-definition detail, better than any porn video.

By – yup, you guessed it – Jeon Jungkook.

Yoongi began his own pace to match yours, thrusting his two fingers in and out until you were a hopeless mess, whining and bucking against his touch, your juices coating his hand, staring up at the ceiling with the tips of his black ears in your peripheral vision, tilted towards you to listen to every single one of your sounds. His heavy exhale invaded your head, lost in Yoongi’s rhythm that was uniquely his, only able to cry out, harder or faster, losing yourself in him, his scent, the smell of your vanilla body wash, and the rapidly strengthening sweetness between your legs rising up despite it dripping down your thighs.

“Yoongi… oh, fuck, Yoongi…”

It just felt too good, speed, strength, sound, wet messy squelches of his fingers entering you over and over, your pussy responding in kind, shuddering around them, clenching tight, hips rocking into every plunge to deepen the stroke, prolonging your own orgasm, savoring the moment.

“You feel so good…”

That wasn’t you.

That was Yoongi.

Whispering in your ear, probably not even realizing his own dirty talk.

“So fucking wet and warm,” he murmured, the rumble purring in his chest, soothing but also far too sexy. “Sucking my fingers back in, fucking me back… You really like me this much?” His lips brushed your ear, chaste kisses compared to the rough fingering of his slippery digits pushing into you repeatedly, the sounds getting louder and lewder because you were getting wetter and wetter. “Am I really that good-looking to you?”

Yoongi, are you BLIND, DEAF, or BOTH???

“Fuck yes, you are, what the fuck?” you gasped out, turning your head slightly, one of his dark brown eyes locking with yours, your jaw clenched with the effort of you holding back your orgasm to respond to his ludicrous question. “You are so fucking handsome I couldn’t even last two days of being in your presence, thirsting after you!”

You heard Yoongi chuckle, the sound resonating and teasing your ear.

“Actually, you couldn’t even last one, remember?” he drawled slyly.

His knuckle grazed your throbbing, aroused clit.

“Fuck!”

Your body twisted, whining wail torn out of you as you came, pushing your head and hands against the wall, nerves sparking and shaking, intense pleasure flooding all over your senses from holding back, breathless whimpers of Yoongi’s name, grinding into his hand. He let go of your wrists. They prickled with pins and needles of lost circulation, but you didn’t give a shit, grabbing his hand between your legs and shoving it back in you before it could retreat, riding out your orgasm, milking it for every single gram of ecstasy, cherishing every single second of another’s hand inside you, not just another but your disturbingly attractive man who was previously a cat sleeping in your lap exactly forty-eight hours ago as you innocently watched American Horror Story.

“Y… Yoongi?” you panted, orgasm petering out, trickling waves subsiding.

“Y… Yes?”

He wasn’t making fun of you. You could hear the nervousness in his voice.

“Can I kiss you?”

His face appeared in front of yours.

“Yes.”

You didn’t think twice.

You closed your eyes and leaned forward, lips on his, your satisfied sigh tickling his skin, kissing him hard, the intimacy you desired for so long, moments you spent all year trying to keep it at bay, no one to show your affection but tiny kisses on Shooky’s furry head, but now one of your hands was cupping Yoongi’s cheek, deepening the kiss, him pressing back against you, sandwiching you between the wall and himself. You let go of his hand between your legs and held both his cheeks, peppering light pecks against that lovely mouth. You wanted to kiss him over and over, so nice, so lovely, his barely-there gasps drifting on your lips with every kiss.

His fingers slipped out and touched your thigh.

You drew back, heart thudding, still holding his face, his round cheeks a little squished in your hands.

He raised his hand and put his pussy-soaked fingers in his mouth.

You jerked your hands back. “Y-Yoongi!” you exclaimed, shocked.

His pink tongue slipped around his fingers, tiny kitten licks to slurp it all up. He hummed, small smirk playing on his lips. You gawked at him.

“Y-You don’t have to–”

“You like it, don’t you?”

You shut your mouth, cheeks burning with heat.

Yoongi smirked wider, nimble tongue slipping around and around, your eyes glued to the movement, brain already dreaming up lecherous scenarios. His dark brown eyes flickered to you, eyebrows rising.

“Hmm…”

“W-What?” you snapped, trying to collect yourself. He was giving you that look again. That enigmatic expression of maybe-maybe-not. Yoongi shrugged, taking his fingers out of his mouth.

“I think we should do that again sometime.”

Your mind went blank.

Again? Now? Later?

Next Tuesday?

WHEN, MIN YOONGI, WHEN?

“… Urk?”

Those cunning dark brown orbs sparkled with mischief. “Hmm, then again, maybe we’ll do something different next time,” he pondered out loud, taunting you with the suggestive depth of his voice. He backed up, tail swaying from side to side, his grin widening, turning into an open-mouthed smirk that showed off his pretty teeth and devious expression.

His next words were the verbal equivalent of pushing your full glass of brainpower right off the table and sending it crashing to the floor.

“I have a lot of things I want to try.”

part v

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

Eternal Honeymoon Phase

For @itsthesinbin bc we were yelling about Morticia and Gomez and it’s spooky season so the Addams Family works perfectly. I HOPE U LIKE IT!!!!

Summary: You’re the newest addition to the Addams Family couple and you’re a little shier when it comes to their sexual appetites. You’re, well, a virgin, and when you finally ask to do more, Morticia has a better idea on how and when to take your virginity. Under the moon of Halloween, you shall be their sacrifice.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU LIKE! Minors and ageless blogs DNI or you will be blocked.

Fandom: Addams Family

Relationship: Morticia/Gomez/Reader

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, Reader is gn and has a vulva, also reader wears a dress but it’s a costume for an angel costume!, implications of virginity kinks for Gomez and Morticia, uhhhh ya get eaten out and ur face fucked, overstimulation.

Words: 3.3k

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Morticia and Gomez had never been against adding a third to their little ‘eternal honey moon’ romance.

It’s just that no one had ever quite...fit into their world of them as a couple. They could come off a little strong, a little, ah, overbearing and well. Downright indulging in intimacy like rabbits tended to not be something people enjoyed, much to Gomez’s and Morticia’s surprise. Whatever did people mean that they lost a ‘spark’? They just didn’t see it.

They had met you at a family gathering. You’re a friend to one of the many, many, many family members there, exuding such a sweet and kind energy amongst all the dread and vulgarity. You’d seemed a little overwhelmed among everyone else yet still was just as polite with everyone. Your state of dress had been borrowed, Morticia had noticed, from cousin Lilith. The dress you had on spilled off your shoulders and you kept adjusting it with a little shy bow of your head and flashing a small smile.

Poor thing.

~Rest under the cut~

You’d caught Morticia’s eye first, who had hummed her interest as Gomez dipped her upon the dancefloor. Her head had been tipped back, showing the long, pale expanse of her neck that he ached to kiss as her hair spilled behind her. But, he’d seen her eyes lingering on you, trailing up and over to you from where she was looking and a grin spreading across his face. “Cara mia?” He questions in a teasing tone, kissing over her shoulder and up to her neck before pulling her to a standing position. “The one Lilith brought has your attention?”

“Yes...Don’t you think they look rather sweet standing there?” Morticia hums in reply once she returns to his embrace, swaying their bodies together and making sure to twist so they both could glance over at you. You’re talking to another cousin, tucking hair behind your ear and smiling kindly at something someone else says. A laugh graces your features, and even Gomez is humming now.

“Out of place,” He agrees, taking her hand and letting her spin from his grasp only to bring her back in time with the waltz, resting his head upon her breast with a sigh from his lips. “You have always been fond of the smaller ones, haven’t you, Tish?” A playful tease that earns him that charming little laugh from his wife’s lips.

That night they had both approached you, each offering a dance. Morticia quite liked the way your cheeks warmed a healthy shade of pink and you’d been honest about how your dress kept falling. To which Gomez, ever the gentleman had offered his assistance there. Brandishing a pin from seemingly nowhere and getting behind you to help pin the dress closed better. You’d smiled so bright then, thanking him with a hearty laugh. “I thought I was going to pop out of it any second now! Thank you- Would you both like to dance? I’m sure we can come up with something together!”

And how odd you had been. Breaking traditions of just two in an intimate dance. Showing them how Gomez could hold your waist from behind and you could hold Morticia’s from the front and all sway together. Over your shoulders you hadn’t seen the way the two looked at you. A bright spray of sunshine in their gloomy, dark worlds.

They quite liked their rainy days full of thunder and harsh winds, and at first, they thought that wouldn’t be your speed.

You’re invited privately to come into their home for dinner. You’re such a vibrant ray of sunshine in the otherwise dark room, lighting it up with the glow of your presence. There are quiet tests here and there as they get to know you. Such as inviting you on terribly stormy days only for you to excuse yourself with the children to go out and play. Only to come back in soaking wet and smiling just as bright as Gomez wraps you in a towel with a laugh as you exclaim how beautiful their home always is.

And how much you loved that it was always storming or cloudy.

Another time, Mama offers you something and exclaims it to be a sort of poison. Morticia had watched as you smiled, only questioning if it at least tasted good before you’d put it into your mouth. It had been laced, of course, Mama was always good at such things. Thankfully it only made you terribly drowsy. Such a sweet thing you had been with your head in Morticia’s lap that day. Gomez having helped you out of your shoes and let you lay your legs across his lap, stroking over your calf. You’d smiled so lazily up at them, your voice happy as could be. “It did taste good. She wasn’t lying on both accounts, huh?”

Nothing frightened you. Nothing turned you away. Somehow you took doom and gloom and made it into something bright and beautiful without modifying what it looked like. Even the children took kindly to your presence. The house just came to life with you inside it, everyone seemed more active. Even Gomez had taken to leaning over the railing with wistful sighs as he watched you, and Morticia knew it was up to her to do something about it.

You’d been asked to accompany them both to dinner privately. Neither Gomez or Morticia had been into the dating scene- as is they married practically a month after they had met and proposed the day of meeting. Yet, you seemed a little old fashioned to just be proposed to in such short notice. Much to Gomez’s dismay who already had a ring picked out for you and had pouted when Morticia gently closed the box to tell him as such.

You’d agreed joyously to dinner, and not long after had your relationship begun. Gomez had been the one to ask if you would be moving in with them, both of them delighting in the flush on your face and stuttering out about how you weren’t particularly attached to your apartment. He’d insisted with a big smile, and you’d agreed. The children were just as excited, even if Wednesday had showed her own happiness in her own little way of offering to hide weapons in your room ‘just in case’.

Prompting you to ask, of course, “Just in case? What, an attacker?”

“No,” Wednesday had spoken as if it was the most obvious answer on Earth. “Just in case I want to test your reflexes.”

Morticia and Gomez had the delight of watching you spare a grin to her, pretending to pout and telling her. “Aw, man, that’s too bad because maybe I waaaant tooo test,” Only to quickly scoop her up, resulting in their daughter letting out a shriek of terror and joy. “YOUR reflexes!”

The look they had shared was full of love, Gomez’s smile lighting up the room and Morticia having to resist the urge to steal your moment and whisk you away to the bedroom.

To present day, you three have been a couple for nearly half a year. Your first kisses with both of them had been shared, as well as some more intense heavy petting. Normally resulting in you in between them with scarlet red lipstick marks curling up your neck and bite marks on the other side. No one went further than just making you a blushing mess, always one of them murmuring to you that you just need say the word and they would ravish you.

A week before Halloween you shyly tell them that you’re ready to go further.

Morticia has to rest a hand on Gomez’s leg to keep him still when he sits up eagerly in their bed like a dog hearing the word ’treat’, but Morticia only cups your cheek fondly. Smoothing her thumb over the apple of your cheek and drawing you into an oh-so-soft kiss. “In a week, my dear, we shall have a ritual on Halloween night. You are a virgin, correct?”

Her bluntness had made your face burn, a huff going from your nose but you’d nodded. Gomez had hummed next to her, reaching over to replace her hand with his own rougher one and letting you lean into his palm with a pout. “Now, now, none of that, sweetheart! We’ll have plenty of time to plan for you and get questions out of the way. Like condoms! Shall we need condoms? Tish- we don’t have condoms, do we?”

“No, my love, we have never desired them before.” Morticia had responded with a sly smile on her lips, sharing a look with you. It seemed you would burn up before they even got to play, but you’d shaken your head, your voice seemingly caught in your throat.

“Good,” Morticia near about purred. “We shall inquire further- would you like to join us in bed tonight to make preparations?”

You had joined them that night. Talking of consent and what you thought you might want to try or be comfortable with. Ending up curled up in Gomez’s arms with your face buried in his warm, hairy chest and Morticia’s freezing cold arms around you from behind. Embraced and safe within their bodies.

When Halloween approaches, the children are so excited to drag you and Fester outside to come up with games. Pugsley had dressed as a pirate fit with an eyepatch and a sword in hand, whilst Wednesday had merely taken dressing brightly for once. When questioned, she’d merely said in a stoic tone of voice, “A majority of the animal kingdom has brightly colored flesh in order to identify who is poisonous.” You’d thought it was rather clever.

Yourself, you had dressed as a cliché angel. With a white dress that reached the floor with a slit up each leg for more freedom. The top was a plunge neck with criss crossing strings over your chest, and flaring sleeves down to your fingertips. You’d even gotten a little halo headband and little wings to match. Though your halo was quickly given to Fester who had quite the fascination with it, smiling as you told him you two matched.

Perhaps you had dressed as an angel as a tease. Morticia had admitted that she was quite attracted to the fact that you hadn’t had penetrative sex yet, spoken exactly like that. And Gomez had agreed, not as bluntly but definitely implying that it was very much a ‘thing’ for them both. And maybe you were trying to get a little payback for in the middle of the week. When you had been so comfortable resting with them only to find yourself teased with hot and heavy kisses from Gomez and little nips on your neck from Morticia as they both told you how good of a sacrifice you were going to make on Halloween night.

When you’d arrived, you’d certainly felt their hungry stares. You’d call this righteous payback, thank you very much.

The entire day goes rather well, you’d thought. The children had a day full of fun and were being put to bed by Lurch, slung over both his shoulders as they both wave to you before vanishing around the corner of upstairs. Immediately you feel arms wrap around your waist from behind, a warm kiss pressed to your shoulder and Gomez’s voice sighing out. “As much as I appreciate the time you spend with the children, I am glad it is our turn now.”

“And what if I’m too tired, hm?” You tease out, only to fall into giggles from your lips when his arms squeeze tighter around your waist and a low growl comes from his throat. You hear the click of heels approaching before Morticia is in front of you, her long fingers tipping your chin up with two fingers. You can practically hear both yours and Gomez’s breaths leave your body at her beauty. She always looked so regal, especially tonight in a more spider web designed dress that had a slit up the leg.

“If you are too tired, we shall simply put off until next Halloween. I am patient.” She speaks coolly, a quirk to a corner of her mouth when you whine aloud and lean back into Gomez’s arms who makes the same sound as you. Clearly the most patient one in the room was Morticia, but even then, her eyes are flicking down the front of your low plunge dress and you have a feeling that wouldn’t last long.

After a few teasing ‘double checks’ from the both of them, you are brought to a room that you don’t recognize. It’s wide open with windows covering one side, and in the center of the room is soft looking cushions and blankets. In a star formation on either side of the center where the comfortable spot looked were lit up candles, all black with roaring red flames. You should have realized Morticia wasn’t joking when she said sacrifice, but in your heart, you knew nothing bad was going to happen. Nothing you didn’t want would happen.

Gomez is the one who strips you from behind, warm kisses placed on everywhere he exposes behind you. Trailing kisses down your back until he can’t reach whilst standing anymore and letting your dress pool to the floor. Morticia watches, patient as ever with her hands folded at her waist, though her head does tilt, this hungry gaze in her eyes as they fall to your hips. You weren’t wearing underwear, you thought it would give your dress undesirable lines. You flush when you hear the appreciative sound behind you, a firm hand tracing down your side and squeezing your ass.

“You were just as eager to get here as we were all day.” Gomez growls in your ear, both his hands grabbing your hips now and yanking you back against him. You whimper faintly, tipping your head to the side when guided to feel the searing hot kisses up your neck. You’re already dizzy with arousal, faintly hearing Morticia say something only to be released and guided to the cushions instead by her hands.

You’re lain on your back, watching Gomez strip from his suit jacket and loosening his tie to work on the buttons. Morticia slips out of her dress, revealing a black lacy get up with matching bra and panties, a garter belt holding spider web thigh highs on her long legs. You swallow thickly when she crawls up to you, nudging your legs apart that tremble as they fall open. Cold kisses leave scarlet prints up your inner thigh beginning at your knee, her lips coming up and over your hip to your lower abdomen and kissing her way back down, down, down.

Her fingers part your lower lips and you throw your head back in embarrassment when she smiles up at you under her lashes. “Already so wet, little one? How sweet.” You can’t even help the way your hips jump when her cold mouth presses an open-mouthed kiss over the hood of your clit, her tongue pressing downwards against you before sealing her lips lightly over you.

A low whine leaves your throat, your fingers quickly twisting into the sheets beneath you as your hips start to hump against her mouth without thinking. You feel a pressure by your head before your eyes flutter open halfway, looking up at Gomez who pushes your hair out of your face adoringly. “Open your mouth, sweetheart, stick out your tongue for me.” Murmured gently from his lips, and you do as told, a shudder racing through your body when Morticia’s tongue dips lower.

His cock is in his hand, thick enough to the point not even his fingers touch when holding it. It looked shorter, maybe at about five inches with the foreskin pulled back with a tug of his hand across his cock. Your mouth waters at the sight of the flushed head, fluttering your eyes closed when he glides the head of it across your tongue. “Ah, there you go, darling, just get used to the taste for now.” Spoken lowly in his throat, as if he’s holding back from just grabbing you and slipping into your throat.

You get to experiment with little laps of your tongue after a moment, keeping your lips parted to allow him to slide the shaft over your lips so you could get used to the weight. A moan spills from you when you feel Morticia’s tongue back on your clit, applying pleasant pressure and moaning against you in turn. You whimper sharply, your hand reaching down to try and find her. She takes the hint, her fingers lacing with yours at your hip to hold your hand there.

It isn’t long before Gomez is pressing the head at your lips, talking you through it ever so softly. “Breathe through your nose, relax your jaw- there you go, that’s my sweet pet.” Crooning as he presses carefully into your mouth. It stretches your jaw, your head tipped backwards and your breath stuttered. He only dips halfway, his hand coming down to rest on your jaw, helping you keep tilted and supported.

By the time he finally slips all the way into your mouth, his balls against your nose and your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head, you’re cumming. You squeeze tight to Morticia’s hand, automatically swallowing around the weight in your mouth with moans blossoming from your chest. Your body trembles, hips stuttering up against her mouth where she licks you through each wave and even afterwards. Until your tremors are too much and you’re making soft whimpers around Gomez’s cock and trying to shake your head, but his hand holds you still.

“Mmh. That was one. Just four more.” Morticia practically croons, pressing a kiss to your engorged clit that’s surely circled by a ring of lipstick right now. Your hips jerk upwards, moving your free hand up to Gomez’s thigh and clinging to him when his hips start to move lightly.

Four?! Four more?! You try to sob out, but only the tail end of it gets out when Gomez pulls his hips back until the head rests heavy on your lips. You try to speak, but Morticia’s nails tracing up your thighs as she sits up catches your attention more. “My love, the toys?”

“Behind you in the bag, dearest.” He hums out fondly, the hand gripping your jaw smoothing his thumb over your wet lips until your lips part again, taking his cock once more with a low growl in his voice. “I think you were made to be a toy for us, little one. How well you take me.”

You can’t help your own whimper when he slides all the way back into your mouth. Your eyes fluttering just as you feel Morticia return with the light pressure between your legs. She lifts one of your thighs, angling you better for the rounded head of a smaller toy that you assume is a dildo, already wet with lubrication. “I would ask Gomez to prepare you as my nails are too long,” Morticia explains, her hand lying flat on the mound of your sex, her thumb circling your clit to not overstimulate you just yet. “But, it seems he is preoccupied at the moment. I cannot say I am not jealous.”

“In d-due time, my dear,” He huffs out, his hips speeding up slightly when you prove you can take the smaller thrusts. Your toes curl, feeling the toy slowly slide into you with a delicious, slight stretch to it. It isn’t long before Morticia’s moving it in sync with Gomez’s hips, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and feeling just like the toy Gomez claimed you were.

You know by the end of the night you’ll end up well taken care of and tired out. But for now, you’re happy to be caught in between them, drooling around Gomez’s cock and feeling Morticia’s cold tongue lapping at your slick.

You think Heaven is a lot darker and gloomier than thought to be.

#Addams Family #Morticia x Gomez x Reader #Morticia Addams #Gomez Addams #nsft #lemon #princess writing

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starrypawz · 2 years

Note

31. doing a pinky swear

Touching AO3

Mild alcohol use cw

Gerry yawns softly, blinks a couple of times as he runs his fingers through Nemo’s soft hair and Nemo leans into his touch with a pleased little noise that as always makes his heart flip slightly. He shifts slightly trying to stretch without shifting Nemo too much from where they’ve been lying on his lap.

Gerry also realises he’s not really paying attention to the film for a while, but by this point he’s pretty sure he knows Addam’s Family Values by heart. It’s been a long couple of days long enough that the prospect of them both crashing out before midnight doesn’t sound completely embarrassing.

“Gerry?” “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?” Nemo’s words stumble together slightly. The bottle of Jack Daniels and it’s accomplice of a large bottle of coke sitting on the table at least partly the culprit for that, Nemo a couple of drinks in (although with more coke than Jack) and Gerry found himself not really in the mood.

Gerry chuckles softly, “You know you can ask me anything love,”

“So… you know,” Nemo pauses, “Sometimes when…”

“Yes?”

Nemo sighs, “You remember that person we ran into that turned into a shadow,”

Gerry sighs, reaches out to let his fingers brush the curve of Nemo’s ear, “Yeah I remember,”

“And that… bug person,”

Gerry sighs and shudders slightly, “I remember the bug person,”

(Gerry would rather not remember the bug person)

“What… what if… could something like that happen to me,”

Gerry snorts affectionately and soft, “Pretty sure you wouldn’t turn into bugs,”

Nemo gives a little huff equally affectionately, “Not… bugs you big bat just…” Nemo pauses, “Forget it,” “No no, keep going,” Gerry goes back to running his fingers through Nemo’s hair and smiles softly as Nemo leans into his touch.

“You know how… sometimes when things get bad things get… foggy?” Gerry feels Nemo grip his thigh as they tense up and he runs a hand down their back.

“Yes?”

“What if… what if I turned into sea foam?”

Gerry pauses not quite sure how Nemo jumped between the two topics, “Sea foam?”

“Yeah you know,” Nemo tenses again and he winces a little at the grip Nemo has on his thigh, “Sea foam like you know the Little Mermaid?”

“Little Mermaid?”

“Yeah like in the old story about her, not the Disney movie” Nemo shudders and Gerry swears the room chills a little as he rubs Nemo’s back, “Sea foam,” Nemo chews their lip for a moment, “She was so lonely she turned into sea foam and-”

“I don’t…” Nemo mumbles into his lap, “I don’t want to turn into seafoam,”

“Oh love,” Gerry sighs and runs his fingers through Nemo’s hair again, and hears Nemo sniff, “It’s ok it’s ok...”

Gerry shifts position slightly, “There we go,” As he gently pulls Nemo up with him, pauses for a moment to gently wipe their thumb under one of their eyes as he soothes, “There we go little ghost,”

Gerry sighs softly as he holds Nemo a little tighter, it seems to work as the room goes back to normal.

Nemo sniffs again as they settle against him, hand buried in his shirt as Gerry gently runs a hand over Nemo’s back and Nemo shudders a little before they pull back.

“Promise you won’t let me turn into seafoam?” Nemo offers up their little finger as they look up at Gerry pale grey eyes slightly glistening as they give him as earnest of an expression they can manage after a couple of Jack and Cokes which as it turns out is still pretty earnest.

Gerry nods and wraps his little finger around Nemo’s, “I promise,” then shifts slightly to press a kiss to Nemo’s forehead, “I solemnly swear I will do everything I can to make sure you don’t turn into seafoam, Goth’s honour,”

Nemo sniffs again as they settle back against Gerry’s chest, a hand buried in his shirt. Gerry chuckles softly as he runs his fingers through Nemo’s hair as they shudder slightly, “Sorry, I’m being silly,” Nemo mumbles into his shirt.

Gerry chuckles softly, affectionately, a curl of dark hair around his finger, “I still love you when you’re being silly,” He pauses, “And even though you don’t want to and I really hope you don’t I’ll still love you if you ever turn into seafoam,”

He hears Nemo sniff again and then

Oh no oh no no no no

“Oh… oh no, love, it’s ok ok,” Gently he moves Nemo’s head and reaches out to gently wipe just under their eye, fingertip now slightly damp and slightly smudged with black eyeliner, as he swallows down a little nervous bubble in his throat, “Nemo?” Nemo sniffs and then gives a tipsy chuckle, “I’m happy crying, big bat”

Gerry sighs, the bubble dissipates “Oh,” Then gives a relived chuckle, “Phew,”

Nemo chuckles again as they shift position, arms slipping around the back of Gerry’s neck as they kiss him softly as Gerry gently cups Nemo’s cheeks and wipes under their eyes. Before he carefully lifts Nemo off the sofa, and feels his heart swell as Nemo nuzzles into his neck.

“Think this a sign we need to go to bed little ghost,”

#tma nemo #gerry keay #gerry delano #starry writes stuff #tma #the magnus archives #ghoststories

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closedmadness · 4 years

Text

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒

summary: you’re a northsider, but an addam — part of the famous addams family. maybe that’s why you were different from all the northsiders in riverdale high, and sweet pea found himself falling for you as soon as he knew you aren’t like the others.

pairings: sweet pea x addams!male reader

warnings → fluff・reader being weird like the addams family・mention of disturbing things・swearing・reader being sassy?

the serpents entered through the doors of riverdale high, gathering too many attentions from the students as they approached the registration table veronica lodge had set.

everyone watched as she began to welcome the serpents with open arms while you just stood in the corner leaning on your locker reading a horror book. you probably stood out from the students as your type of clothing were rather dark and punk-like, and although many people found you disturbing you didn’t care. you were an Addams after all.

you kept reading your book until cheryl and her dog reggie appeared, disturbing your reading time annoyingly.

these two are the only people you can’t stand, simply because they’re too annoying and only the sound of their voices was enough for you to have an urge to chop off your head.

sighing deeply, you kept on reading your book despite the noise cheryl and reggie were making, a bunch of insults smoothly leaving their mouth like a vomit. seriously, it’s ridiculous how they’re going against people who can easily bring them down. the serpents aren’t called a gang for nothing.

your plan was to keep ignoring them and read your book in peace, but unfortunately that wasn’t what fate wanted for you. “yo, addams. come here.” reggie called out, moving his hand to gesture for you to approach them.

a deep sigh leaves your lips when you realized they won’t let you get away from them and just closed the book, adjusting the strap of your back pack before approaching them. you stopped just beside cheryl, your eyes traveling to look at the serpents one by one. though, only one serpent truly caught your attention — the one with dark raven hair and tall height.

“don’t you think they should get the hell out from our school?” reggie said, smirking with cheryl. “surely, a threat from the one and only (y/n) addams would tell them enough that this isn’t where they belong.”

you visibly rolled your eyes; they usually bullied you and made fun of you for being weird, but now they’re seeking help from you? no, that ain’t it.

besides, you actually feel fond of the serpents despite first time meeting. the color of their clothes made you happy, only because it mostly consisted of black. black is the color of happiness for you and your family.

“serpents should be back in their own nests.” reggie spat.

however, your attention remained on the tall serpent. “is that a tattoo?” you asked curiously, ignoring reggie and pointing at the tattoo on the tall serpent’s neck that you just caught sight of after studying him for a couple of seconds.

he raised his brows in slight surprise; why do you seem interested in his tattoo? That’s a first.

“Yeah, why?” he asked.

“it looks great on you.” you complimented, causing everyone to look at you in surprise. “i’ve always wanted to get a tattoo, like the tattoo of a beheaded man holding his head.” you told him still staring at the serpent tattoo on his neck. he couldn’t help but snort at your choice.

“are you fucking serious?” reggie asked you ridiculously, looking at you as if you were some kind of a crazy person.

“i’m just speaking the truth.” you said without looking at him, proceeding to raise your fingers to touch the man’s tattoo. he tensed at first, but relaxed soon in your touch.

cheryl scoffed, “you’re ridiculous.”

you dropped your hand on your side and looked at her, “whatever. i don’t mind them staying here as long as they wear black. this school lacks of darkness, the only thing i see are pastels and a ridiculous redness of your clothes.” she gasped inaudibly at that. “i like red, it’s the color of blood. but every time you wear it, it gives me the urge to chop my head off. better wear more black like this serpents.” you said, pointing to the serpents, who were now smiling at you.

she clenched her jaw, “i’d rather die than wear the same color of clothes as this ragamuffins.” and stepped closer to you threateningly.

you tilted your head to the side a bit, “that can be arranged.” the seriousness in your voice made reggie quickly pull her back, knowing full well that you’re capable of doing it.

you slashed his wrist with a knife once after all. who said you can’t arrange cheryl’s death?

“(y/n), the southside are our enemies, not us.” reggie said with a warning tone, making the serpents let out a scoff, the tall male’s being the loudest.

you rolled your eyes, “i couldn’t care less about that northside-southside shit, you’re just making up an excuse to be a dick to somebody.” the tall male smirked. “besides, i doubt they’re gonna cause a trouble. snakes don’t really bite unless provoked.” you said, shrugging.

reggie glared, “this only means you’re betraying us.”

“i was never been on your side, mantle. though, maybe it’ll be possible if you just hand me your head so I can play with it.”

“not gonna happen.” he spat.

“right, ‘cause you’re too narcisstic to hand someone your head over.” few chuckles errupted from the serpents which made you smirk.

“anyway, good luck with kicking them out. i doubt you’ll be able to find a way with your fetus brain, but hey, trying isn’t bad.” you said rather cheerfully with a mixture of sarcasm before patting him on the shoulder and walking back to your previous place to continue the book you were reading.

“who knew he was going to defend us rather than siding with you who called him?” you heard the tall serpent say, causing you to chuckle at yourself quietly and a laughter to errupt from the serpents.

after that, well, you didn’t hear the rest of their conversation because you were pretty much focused on the book you were reading. though, you felt the tall serpent looking at you every once in a while, as if waiting for their commotion to end so he could approach you. and indeed, he approached you as soon as their commotion finished.

he placed one hand on the locker beside your head, trapping you between him and the locker but not completely. “hey, goth prince.” he greeted you flirtatiously with a smirk.

you looked up from your book and smirked as soon as your eyes met with his, closing the book to focus your attention on him. his nickname for you was so ordinary yet special. at least that’s how it sounded to you.

“what do i owe you the pleasure of, serpent king?”

he raised his brows at the nickname, “you think i’m a king?”

“well, you seem a lot like a king to me because of your tall height and intimidating feature.” you shrugged. “what do you want, though? usually people would avoid me because of how weird i am.”

“i like your weirdness, though.” he said, shrugging casually. a small smile appeared on your lips. “i’m Sweet Pea.” he introduced, moving to get beside you and leaning his body on the locker.

“that’s a strangely sweet name for a tough looking serpent like you.” you chuckled softly. “(y/n) addams, but i suppose you already know that.”

“yeah.” he chuckled. “that was a first. a northsider defending the southside.”

“i didn’t defend you, i was just being honest. this feud is getting annoying, insults being thrown here and there, why don’t you just quit with the insults and kill one another to end it instead?” the last sentence came out as a statement instead of a question.

sweet pea laughed, “you sound homicidal.”

you shrugged, “i am. everybody is. the only difference is that i’m not afraid to show it while they’re hiding it and pretending to be a normal, perfect people.” sweet pea nods his head as he mentally agreed with you.

silence took over as he studied you, taking your features in. he noticed your skin looking paler than normal, but the color of your lips still had a sign of life. your (h/c) hair fell graciously on some part of your forehead, adding more good looks on your already good-looking face. your (e/c) had a sense of darkness in them, refusing to hide and mixing with a little light. sometimes, emotions can be visible in your eyes, but it’s hard to read what emotion it is unless someone focuses on them. dark clothes fits you well and he figured it’s probably the only thing that suits you perfectly, since he can’t imagine you ever wearing light clothes.

“you seem to be enjoying the view, chéri.” your amused yet loving voice snapped him out of his daze and his cheeks flushed red, blushing at the fact that he was caught and also the fact that you called him darling.

yes, he understood french, even when he doesn’t look like he does.

he cleared his throat, “yeah... uh, right, i should probably stop staring.” he stumbled over his words and you chuckled softly.

“oh, don’t be embarrassed, chéri. i do love your attention.” you stated with a smile.

sweet pea smirked at that, starting to feel more confident with himself. now that he knows you’re loving his attention, he wouldn’t let this opportunity slip away from his fingers. he had to ask you out, he has to make you his. he decided that the moment you didn’t side with reggie and cheryl.

“so, prince...” he started, slightly leaning his head closer to you. “want to go to pop’s with me?”

you raised your brows, “are you asking me out on a date?”

“what if i am?” he smirked.

“maybe i’m going, maybe not.” you shrugged and laughed after seeing the smirk on his face slowly disappear. “i’m just joking, mon cher. yes, i want to go on a date with you.” you said with a large smile that no one has ever seen before.

a grin broke out of his lips, pure joy crossing his face. “great. you alright with after school?”

nodding, “yes, of course. but...” you trailed off, making him confused. you pointed your thumb at the side where your brother and sister stood. “you have to deal with them first.”

sweet pea looked at where you pointed and saw your two siblings — wednesday and pugsley — staring at him curiously, before he groaned, but a small smile plastered his face.

he wouldn’t mind dealing with your siblings if it meant he can go on a date with you.

477 notes · View notes

tintinwrites · 4 years

Text

nothing could be finer | Santiago Garcia x Reader x Frankie Morales | Part Five

A/N: No smut!!!!!!!!! What is this chapter?!

Rating: T

Warning: Naughty words. People talking about what they’re doing in a relationship. Pope makes Reader cry. Brief making out scene. Frankie is a little bit afraid of these emotions and things. Everyone is afraid of something in this lmao.

Word count: 2,051, apparently!!

Summary: You, Frankie, and Pope talk about what you want this relationship to be.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

GIF credit: @damerondjarin

Tags: @damndamer0n @bisexual-space-slut @justabeautiful-letdown @darksideofclarke @huliabitch @shakespeareanwannabe @woakiees @thirsty-flygirl @mrscrain-x7 @elena-myth @mandoplease @mylifeliterally @mitchi-c @feelmyroarrrr @beautiful-assholes @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall @frietiemeloen @himbopoes @jennibradley @goddamndameron @the-bird-suit @thedevilwearsvibranium @lilangeldevil006 @fallingintovoids @lostgirlheather @justrunamok @chews-erotically @jaime1110 @witching-wilds @highlycommendable @damerondjarin @writefightandflightclub @demoncrypt1066 @clydesducktape @mistermiraclee

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Something was different when you and the boys went back to your apartment.

It was fine for a bit; you were laughing and flirting with each other, all delightfully tipsy, and then you looked at your phone and noticed how late into the night it was.

You hadn’t talked about whatever this was between the three of you and you didn’t know what was going to happen now.

Were they going to stay the night again? Was one of them going to stay and one of them going to go? Were they going to walk out then one or both of them would talk to you more, wanting to do this again? Were they going to walk out and never care to talk to you again?

That wasn’t even your insecurity talking so much as you genuinely didn’t know if this was just a one time thing where you were letting loose and having fun.

You were sitting on the couch between them with some sitcom playing on the television that you weren’t paying attention to, knee bouncing as you picked at your nails because somehow you were still terrified to ask what they wanted.

Frankie loved you and this was solidified as he reached over and gently squeezed right above your knee. “You okay?”

You opened your mouth as if the words would tumble right out if you let them, but you hesitated.

The laugh track on the television was distracting, and Pope’s eyes were glued onto it, and you knew you needed to communicate about this or somebody was going to be hurt.

Leaning over, you grabbed the remote and turned off the television.

Then you sat back in silence for a long moment as both men stared at you before you quietly asked, “What are we doing?”

Neither of them said anything at first and it made panic rise in you, and, fuck, maybe it was your insecurity that made you wonder if they’d walk out and never want anything to do with you now that they’d had their fun.

But then Frankie was running his knuckles up your arm, looking you over and meeting your eyes with a smile.

“You know how I feel, baby.” He leaned in to kiss you slowly, bumping his nose against yours playfully when he pulled away from you.

“I love you.” You ran your thumb over the little bit of hair that covered his chin.

When you turned to look at Pope, there was an odd look on his face that he quickly erased when he noticed your gaze on him, but he still wasn’t saying anything.

You moved your hand to his cheek, turning his face more towards you, making him look into your eyes. “Where are we at? I love you, Santi.”

“I don’t love you.”

The words were said so quickly that you barely took notice of how unsure they sounded, pulling away from him like he’d slapped you across the face. Your hand fell into your lap and that was where you cast your gaze too, tears quickly filling your eyes.

“Oh,” was all you said, voice trembling slightly.

Frankie was pretty sure his heart broke with yours, mostly for you and a little bit for himself, and his dark glare landed on Pope, ready to beat the shit out of him if this was all just for sex.

Pope almost looked scared, his wide eyes bouncing between your broken form and the way Frankie looked like he was about to straight up murder him. He decided it would be best to address you and then maybe the daggers in the other man’s eyes would go away.

His hands moved to gently cup your face, pulling you up to look at him.

“I didn’t mean it like that, okay? Oh, shit, oh, fuck, please don’t cry.” He moved his hands down to smooth over your shoulders, trailing his fingertips down until he touched your knees. “You know I care about you so much, right, sweetheart? I’ve never...I don’t do this shit, you know?”

You knew. He was one of your best friends, so you knew he did his best not to be this close to someone, this attached. He used sex as something to distract himself and now whatever this was was so much more than that.

It still hurt, that he didn’t love you, but it eased somewhat to know he wasn’t just using this as a moment of fun.

You reached out and pressed your hand over his heart, your eyes on his chest making you miss the soft, adoring look in his. “You’re safe with me, Santi. There’s no pressure, but…”

Frankie, relieved to know Pope wasn’t using you as another one of his distractions, met the other man’s eyes worriedly when you only started to cry more.

He still wasn’t the best at dealing with crying people, but he loved you so much that he seemed like an expert as he sidled up to you and turned your face to him. “Hey, hey, baby, if this is too much…”

You smiled at him gratefully and gripped onto his wrist to gently lower his hand, intertwining your fingers. You looked to Pope, your other hand moving to him and he hesitated slightly before copying the way you were holding Frankie’s.

“I love you both. I don’t like the thought of being without either of you and...and if it’s too much, then I totally understand, but what if we...I don’t know. Could we all be something and figure this out together?” You looked between them, hopeful and yet sure they were going to tell you it was disgusting, or shameful, or a bad idea.

“I love you.” Frankie leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of your head, a teasing smile on his lips, “If I need to put up with Pope for you, then I will.”

A soft laugh fell from your lips as you leaned your head against his and then you both looked over at Pope. He looked like he was trying not to smile himself, looking at Frankie then finally smiling when his eyes landed on you.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t try.” He didn’t think you would dive into his arms like that and he fell onto the couch with a grunt and a slightly pained groan.

“I’m sorry! Did I hurt your neck?” You pushed yourself up to look him over with concern in your eyes.

“No, but now I’m gonna need surgery on my ribs.” His tone was laced with joking pain.

You kissed him quickly and then moved off of him. “So we’re really doing this?”

Your joy was obvious and, fuck, Frankie loved you so much and Pope was pretty sure he never wanted to see you cry ever again.

Frankie answered your question by pulling you into the kiss you sweetly on the lips, again and again, smiling as you moaned into his kiss; this was because of him and because Pope had leaned in after a moment to suck on the side of your neck.

That was his answer.

You wanted to kiss both your boys to celebrate the start of navigating this relationship so you turned from Frankie to kiss Pope, who slowly pushed his tongue into your mouth.

You felt Frankie starting to pepper soft kisses along the other side of your neck and you reached up to push your fingers into his hair.

The three of you went like that for a bit, Pope’s hand rubbing at your inner thigh as Frankie timidly, gently groped your breasts, but you didn’t do anything beyond that since this moment was so much more.

Someone turned the TV back on at some point to an Addams Family marathon and you were pressed between Pope and the back of the couch, your feet in Frankie’s lap as he ran his fingers up and down your legs.

Pope was snoring softly and you giggled, pressing your nose into the back of his neck and gently kissing his scar.

Frankie squeezed your leg and spoke softly so as not to wake the other man, “Hey, I need to go so I can shower for work tomorrow.”

You were honestly dozing slightly yourself with how cuddled up you were to Pope, which you realized as you took a moment to look up at Frankie. “You don’t want to shower here?”

“You’re beautiful and I love you, but people are gonna ask questions if I smell like you.” He moved out from beneath your legs and grabbed his jacket off the arm of the couch, pulling it on.

You wiggled away from Pope slowly to be sure you didn’t wake him, walking with Frankie to the door and smiling against his lips as he kissed you.

He kissed you once, twice, again and again your lips pressed together gently until he chuckled out that he really needed to go; he didn’t move, though, one of his hands gripping onto your hip to keep you close.

“Will I see you?” You scratched through his facial hair, noting the way his jaw clenched and he leaned into your touch.

“I can come over when I’m done at work if you want. Don’t let him overstay his welcome.” He nodded to the man who was now taking up most of the couch since you weren’t behind him and he wasn’t sitting next to him.

“You know I’d keep you both here all the time if you’d let me, right?”

“I know.”

You straightened the lapels of his jacket, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes he’d been staring into for a long time. “I really do love you, okay? Thank you for agreeing to try this out with me.”

“I love you and...with Pope, it’s like…” There was longing in his eyes, mixed with a slightly frightened confusion, and you gently stroked his chest.

“We don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready, baby.” You kissed his chin and he smiled.

“I really need to go now, but I’m gonna text you tomorrow when I’m off.”

“Maybe I should text you something naughty to remind you.”

His hand slid down to quickly squeeze your ass before he pulled away, opening the door and looking back at you with a smile, then walking out.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and giggled like a teenager who was asked out by a boy they liked, but when you turned around and saw how sweetly Pope was sleeping, you knew that squeezing sensation was love and not simple infatuation.

Walking to the couch, you grabbed the blanket off the back of it and gently put it on Pope, kneeling down in front of him to press a kiss to his lips.

He was a deep sleeper who was apparently easy to wake with a kiss, blinking at you sleepily.

“I didn’t fall asleep,” he said, even though he was still dozing.

“It’s okay, Santi. You can stay tonight.” You ran your fingers over his curls.

“I’m sorry I made you cry. I fucking hated that.” He was obviously sleepy and you did your best to hide a soft giggle.

“I understood once you explained, baby. I only cried because I thought maybe this was just sex to you.” You kissed him again then stood, turning to look down at him when he grabbed onto your wrist.

“It’d never just be sex with you.” He stared up at you honestly though he was still half-asleep, his thumb rubbing the inside of your wrist.

“Thank you.” What else could you say when you were about to cry from how sweet he was?

He released your wrist and then promptly fell back asleep anyway, so you turned off the television and walked into your bedroom, changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed where you smiled to yourself.

You loved both your boys so much.

Frankie seemed as in love as you were and maybe Pope was not in love yet, but you thought maybe he could be?

You were happy that the men you loved wanted to try out this relationship, and you were going to do your best to show them how much you loved them both.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier x reader

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sweetwritertanya · 4 years

Text

Dressed Up For Halloween (Namjoon)

Summary: Your employer, Big Hit, is hosting a special Halloween party this year. Even though no one knows you are dating, you go and show your boyfriend Namjoon your outfit before the party starts when he is still working at the studio.

Warnings: SMUT! This fic will include: swearing, erotic body touching, blow job, unprotected sex (be smarter IRL people!), missionary position, sex as in a quickie, female masturbation during sex (is this the best way to describe it?), aftercare.

Word Count: 2640

Your excitement could barely be contained as you practically skipped down the street and entered the Big Hit’s building. Your long warm coat kept your selected costume for the party tonight hidden and you had been dying to show it to your boyfriend. Keeping it a secret was almost unbearable, since you two always shared everything with one another.

For the first time ever, the company had decided to host a Halloween themed party for their employees and idols. Everyone was invited and required to come in costume, dinner and drinks on the house. Even a simple dispensable worker as yourself was invited which worked out, since the only person you were interested in spending the day with would also be there.

Namjoon and the rest of the boys would, obviously, be main guests. And even if nobody besides them knew about you and him being together, it presented the perfect cover for you two to attend the same party without having to hide his identity. You would just have to be careful not to get too lovey-dovey in public. Which was a bit hard, since you adored to hold his hand or lean your head on his shoulder whenever you stood beside him. You just had to control yourself tonight.

You knock on the door and his voice tells you to come in. Namjoon had told you he would be working on the studio for as long as he could, inspiration for some lyrics hitting him strongly today of all days. But he still promised to come to the party, so you were here to pick him up and make sure he lived to that promise.

He was sitting on his chair with his back to you as you walk in, closing the door behind you. He seemed busy writing something in his little notebook as well as having some kind of melody going on the computer. As you expected, he wasn’t even dressed yet, in fact wearing a white Fila hoodie and some light-wash denim jeans.

“Baby, you told me you would be dressed up for Halloween” you complaint as you approach him, placing one hand on his shoulder.

“Hum? Oh, yeah, sorry babydoll, I was about to go and change.” Namjoon swirls in his chair as his strong arms come around your wide hips, brushing the skin there with soothing hands. He smiles sheepishly with lips pressed together and dimples showing. “Got distracted. Wait, is that a wig?”

You smile back, because who wouldn’t when he produced that beautiful dimple smile, and lean down to steal an affectionate peck from his lips.

“Yes, it is. Part of my costume. Now, we don’t have much time, so hurry up and save everything you got going on so you can go and change already” you order playfully, stepping away to leave him to his computer. “Oh, and I want you to see my full costume before we go! Any speculations from the long black-haired wig?” You question as you undo your coat and let it slide down your arms to the sofa behind you.

“You know I’m not great guessing things. It’s best of you just tel-”

As Namjoon finishes saving everything up and swirls around in his chair to look at you, his words get stuck in his throat as he loses the ability to breathe for a few long minutes.

Even a skilled song writer like him could not come up with an accurate way to describe how absolutely enthralling you looked. It made his heart jump to his throat and his mouth to go dry as he took it all in, the black tight fabric hugging all of your splendid corves so seductively, the deep v-neckline showing just enough cleavage before the crisscross strings, the slit up to the middle of your succulent upper thigh revealing the shape of your leg, accentuated by the black high-heel shoe. In an outfit made entirely of black, your red lip stood out so captivatingly, and he could only really think of how much he wanted to steal the bright colour with his own mouth, kiss it until it was smudged away.

“What do you think?” you excitedly ask, even giving him a twirl.

Namjoon swallows dry and crosses his legs as he hides half of his face with his large hand, coughing to clear his voice.

“It’s hum… hum, it’s…” he truly couldn’t find the right words, which you mistake with dislike.

“You don’t like it” you sigh with disappointment and confusion. You really thought he would like it, you looked so good in it. He always tried to persuade you to use more tight-fitting clothes since he loves your silhouette so much.

“No! No, it’s not that at all!” he immediately assures, maybe a bit louder than he hoped. “I actually know this one. You’re… You’re Morticia from the Addam’s Family, right?”

“Yeah… So, why the underwhelming reaction? I thought you would love it” you confess, crossing your arms.

“And I unquestionably do. You look so fucking sexy right now. And I can assure you, there is nothing underwhelming about this. If anything, I may be a little too overwhelmed right now.” He coughs again and looks away almost like he was embarrassed, a bit of color rising to his cheeks.

“Sure doesn’t look like it” you pout, unconvinced.

He sighs and keeps his eyes away from you before looking at the ground, seemingly debating with himself for a moment.

“Did… Did you know?” he suddenly asks, only glancing at you for mere seconds before looking back to the floor.

“Know what?”

“That I had a… a thing, let’s call it… for this character when I first saw the movie as a child?”

“You had a ‘thing’ for Morticia when you were a kid? How so?” Intrigued and tickled by such a notion, you actually walk forward and move as if to sit sideways on Namjoon’s lap.

“Wait, babe-!”

Namjoon strangely raises his hands up and tries to stop you, something he had never done before when you sat on his lap, but the memento was already set. You sat your juicy rump on his thighs and that’s when you feel it, poking at the doughy flesh of your left ass cheek.

“Oh my God!” you giggle and bring your hands to cover your smiling lips as your eyes open wide in realization. As for Namjoon, his cheeks are now burning red and he tries to look as further away to the right as he can, hands restless as he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“She always talked all seductively and all that, okay? And that film is full of sexual tension between her and that husband of yours, so it was not my fault” he murmurs in his defense. “Seeing you like this kind of… brought back old feelings, okay?”

Both amused and sympathetic at his situation, you remain sited on his lap as you take his warm face into your hands and force him to look at you.

“Well… How about I help you with this before we leave for the party, baby?” you suggest with a immodest smirk.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows and widens his small eyes until they became rounded, unsure if he was understanding what you were hinting at. You brush your thumb on top of his wide lips and then capture them for a doubt ending kiss, filled with passion and need. Your mouths melded together as your body melted into his, strong arms coming around your middle and pulling you close by your back.

It doesn’t take long for tongues to tease and play with each other, the smallest of encounters sending sparks down your back that landed in a molten pit of want at the depth of your belly. With each longing movement of your soft lips on top of his, you could feel his problem growing beneath your ass, reminding you of what you had decided to do.

Slowly, almost seamlessly, you move your lips to his chin, then his strong jaw, then down his long delectable neck, stopping just a moment longer by that spot next to his pulse point that you knew drove him crazy. The way he groans almost in a whimper rewards you for taking the time to do so. And then you move away from his lap to instead fall on your knees between his legs, hands set at his muscular thighs and looking up at him with suggestive eyes.

His lips, red from all the kisses and the blood rushing to his cheeks, fall into the cutest ‘o’ shape and he gulps dryly before talking.

“Babydoll, you don’t have to-”

“I know, Jonnie. I want to” you clarify, hands already sneaking their way to his belt.

His head falls back on his chair once your little fingers brush the bulge that had formed in his pants and he knows he couldn’t really do anything, he was at your mercy.

“Now, we don’t have much time before the party starts so, we have to be quick, okay?” you remind him as you pull his pants down. All you get his a struggled grunt and his hands closing into fists. “And don’t pull my hair, remember I’m wearing a wig.”

The erection finally springs free as you lower his boxers and a jolt of lust runs through you at the pretty vision. Standing tall in all its dark pink glory, with a red mushroom head glistening and a particular protruding pulsating vein, his cock always looked so perfect to you. And as much as you wanted to shower him with the attention he deserved, you were on a time crunch.

Therefore, you take one hand to his base and pump the hardening member to complete stiffness, absent-minded gibberish falling from Namjoon’s lips as you do so. Then, taking a deep breath, you let your tongue lick the underside from the bottom to the top before engulfing him into your mouth the furthest you could go.

Namjoon’s body trembles and he gasps when you suddenly take him fully into your mouth, your cheeks hallow and bobbing your head at a nice pace with eyes closed as you concentrated. Your tongue swirls around his thickness and slides from side to side at the skin just bellow his tip, making you feel his cock throbbing against it. Remembering to breathe, you try and add a bit of suctioning to the blow-job, the salty cream flavor you recognized starting to gush from his head.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck, baby, stop! Come here.”

To your confusion, Namjoon grabs you by the underside of your arms and pulls you with him to your feet, breathing hard and flustered, eyes completely darkened with lust. You knew he was about to cum, you couldn’t understand why he stopped you. Until he kisses you hungrily and places you with your back to the cushioned sofa behind you, bringing your legs to hook on either side of his lean hips.

“Namjoon, we can’t, we don’t have time for this” you start to say when his lips instead suck at your neck.

“Like you said, we’ll make it quick. Please, Y/N, babydoll, I need you” he pleads with you, leaning his head back to look at you with desperation. And, fuck, it was hot to be needed like this.

“Fine, hurry up” you concede, biting your bottom lips and throwing your arms around his shoulders, gathering the short hairs at the nape of his neck in your clasp.

Much to his satisfaction, you weren’t wearing any pantyhose, meaning your legs were bare as his fingers traced the skin up under the dress and the only barrier, he had to worry about were your panties. Finding the silky fabric and pulling the center of it aside, Namjoon dips his fingers in between the puffy lips and finds you warm and wet for him. He grunts.

“You’re already so wet for me, baby” he whispers into your ear.

As if to make sure, he slips his fingers into your puckered hole without warning, making you gasp and claw your hands on his shoulder and neck. Both of the fingers he used move with slick perfection only for a few seconds before he extracts them.

The feeling of emptiness left behind only lasts a moment, for soon Namjoon takes himself in hand and plunges back in, that magnificent shaft of his filling you up to the curve of your cervix and stretching your walls heavenly. Heat is rising off of him and he takes little time to start moving, yanking his hips at a fast speed as he chases his release.

His large hands hold you by your waist as he drills himself into your womb, the slapping sound of skin and squelching of your body’s fluids as he pumps in and out joining the sounds of both your and his heaving breathing and erotic moans, pitched with wanton and lust. His cock drags wonderfully against your inner walls and his pelvis smacks repeatedly against yours, so quick and deep that sends ripples across your malleable flesh. The molten pit deep inside your core starts to boil up, this uncontrollable wave of aching relief about to break through the dam.

The slickness of your pussy increases and Namjoon finds himself thrusting faster and faster, slamming his hips into yours at an abnormal increasing speed, hands anchoring himself on your waist so strongly it would leave marks. His whole body screamed tension and his throbbing cock burned inside, so you knew he was close. Even with a veiled brain power, you manage to recognize he was about to cum and you wanted nothing more than to do so with him. So, you bring one hand down your body and wail with a broken voice as you violently rubbed your clit at the same speed he was thrusting.

It happened at the same time, your pussy fluttering and collapsing around his cock as the most sudden wave of unmitigated pleasure crashed through your veins, and his frenzied moves coming to a halt as his cock twitched as released flowed through him like water. Your muscles trembled in relief, back arched away from the sofa’s cushions, before falling to the most relaxed state, while he spilled himself in you with a shuddering body before stilling and catching his breath again.

You both stay like this for a moment, Namjoon leaning down to kiss your smudged red lips amorously. He then spills out, hurrying to get on his feet and entering the adjacent small bathroom he had on the studio, coming back with a towel that he uses to clean up the mess he made.

You watch as he gently cleans your lower lips, tapping the soft towel until it’s all nice and mostly dry, and then rearranging the twisted panties until they sit comfortably on you. You sit back up on the couch when he is done and kiss his cheek, searching in your purse for your lipstick so you can reapply it properly.

“Go ahead and change, Jonnie. I should be going ahead anyway, the party is about to start” you say as you use the mirror in the bathroom.

“If you told me you would be Morticia, I could have dressed up as Gomez today” he tells you, with a voice still a bit rough from sex, which you loved.

“We can’t be in a couple’s costume, babe. No one knows we’re together, remember?” you swing your arms around his middle and look up at him with a resigning pout.

“Yet” he adds, quite firmly. “Maybe next year?”

You beam, pull him down for a peck and start to walk away towards the studio’s door, unable to keep yourself from smiling.

“Maybe next year” you agree before walking out.

195 notes · View notes

hadesrise · 2 years

Text

𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡 𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗔𝗠𝗦 𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. jason todd x addams!male reader

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. headcanon, typical addams behavior (disturbing thoughts and things, homicides, dark humor, using lethal weapons for fun, etc.), strong language, reader’s a badass vigilante, jason being a simp, dark romance (?), mention of homophobia, mention of torture and death, weapons, the addams family being wholesome, lots of pet names, gothic!reader

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗 𝖈𝖔𝖉𝖊. red as jason, purple as you.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. i was thinking of fics to write for jason and came up with this... hail, addams! also sais are like your main weapon here.

FEM ALIGNED DNI !!

Jason’s first meet with you was... amusing to say the least. It’s not much to consider eventful by, but to jason, it’s probably the most and first thing that will stuck with him until his second final breath.

You see, he was just casually walking through the streets of gotham in civilian clothes since he only got out of his apartment to buy some light breakfast, so he certainly did not expect to hear shouts and noises of harrassment coming from the alleyway early in the morning. They were spitting such nasty words that Jason grew the urge to investigate, finding at least five men surrounding you, who wasn’t even acknowledging their presence nor the things they said.

You were reading a book — which he was sure titled ‘how to kill a serial killer’ — with your back leaned on the concrete wall and completely ignoring their existence. Jason swears he saw a ‘I don’t give a fuck’ sentence above your head. However, knowing what the men are doing is harrassment and absolutely something that shouldn’t be turned a blind eye to, he decides to intervene and began walking towards the commotion.

Until one of the men abruptly grabbed the book you were reading to get your attention and also to make fun of you, or it.

Jason didn’t even realize what was happening when you quickly grabbed the man’s arm that took your book and twisted it into an odd angle, but he only took a second to process after hearing the man scream, accompanied by horrified noises from his friends.

You just casually caught the book that fell from his hand that you twisted before it could hit the ground, as if nothing happened.

“Touch my book again and I’ll kill you.”

You broke the man’s arm.

You fucking broke his arm just because he took your book.

And you didn’t care as you went to inspect if there were any scratches or dust on it. The others were now terrified because if you don’t hesitate to break someone’s arm for the sole and only reason of touching your book, then you sure as hell won’t hesitate doing more than that if they mess with you further. So, with one bark of “what?” coming from you immediately had them running away in fear, tail tucked between their legs.

Needless to say Jason was utterly amused, and didn’t waste a time to approach and check up on you even though he clearly saw the entire thing.

“Your book must be a treasure made of gold if you’re willing to hospitalize someone because of it.”

“All books are treasure no matter the genre, mr. stranger.”

“I’m Jason Todd.”

“(Y/n) Addams. Pleasure to meet you, beau.”

You and Jason started spending your time together almost every day since then; watching movies, eating at casual places, taking long night walks, going to mall, drinking coffees at the coffee shop he found around the city, just doing anything you two can.

Through those times spent with you, Jason found out you were oddly interested in various types of weapons, whether it be any kinds of knives, blades, guns, baseball bats, brass knuckles, swords, sais, and everything else. It actually surprised him, because you were well-mannered, collected and as graceful as a swan who didn’t look like you’d be into anything as vicious as weapons.

He viewed you more as a find-beauty-in-everything type of person and certainly not the quiet-but-dangerous type. Though, Jason didn’t mind as he could share his knowledge and interest in weapons with you without having to worry about seeming like a crazy obsessed person. He’s never been able to do that with anyone, so finding this out had him joyous and somewhat giddy.

You even knew about weapons that he didn’t know existed, and this is Jason Todd we’re talking about, but let’s just move on lol

After the entire incident, Jason brought you to his apartment — which already happened like, more than tenth times already — to show you his collectibles of weapons that were hidden in his room. You guessed that’s why you two never went there.

“Well, this is certainly entertaining. Your collections are beautiful, Jason. I’m not aware why you have to hide it from everyone else to see.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ll freak out and think of me like a psycho or something. I also didn’t show you ‘cause I didn’t want you to be stranged out.”

“All of humanity are strange and psychopaths in their own ways, beau. If there were such thing as normal, we wouldn’t be humans. You should be prideful of what you have, nevermind those who judges, pretending to be god.”

Jason smiles. You have mesmerizing ways to utter what’s in your mind, always speaking so confidently and gracefully yet casually. You present yourself in such elegant, exquisite, classy manners that no rich people could. It’s exactly what he enjoys about you.

You had also found out that, despite his bad boy energy and sort of reputation, Jason likes reading books, and they’re not even the genres that bad boys would take a glance at. It explains the shelf piled with books, some new and some old that almost seemed like he’s had them since he was a teen.

He also liked to read poetry, which you were ecstatic at, prompting you to lead him towards the library you always visit to read a book together. You both wordlessly agreed to do this on a regular basis whenever you meet up and want a quiet time among yourselves, knowing neither of you has to hold back your passion and love for books just to please the other.

Having similar tastes and interests immediately connected you and Jason, becoming somewhat inseparable whenever you’re together, allowing you to understand each other without words being uttered or exchanged. Jason was easily comfortable with you due to your maturity and the ability to understand things most people don’t, as you were with him.

The differences were clearly there — Jason was snarky, short-tempered, easy to anger, sort of flirtatious, and held extreme rage against all humanity, while you were more calm, collected, immensely patient, courteous, thoughtful, and almost the epitome of peace. But they’re the things that made you fit so perfectly well together like a puzzle rather than being hateful of each other.

It’s as if you’re what’s keeping him to the ground as he is of you.

Not like Jason knew, but when you’re an Addams, having dark, twisted sense of humor and being homicidal is pretty much inevitable. It isn’t a big surprise that you were one.

He often hears you muttering the most disturbing matters or thoughts, and at first he was concerned for your well-being and looked for signs that may have caused you to be... deranged, but as time passes by with no signs, he figured it’s just the way you are. Jason found it rather amusing anyway. Now, he’s just entertained whenever you utter them and would sometimes join you in on dark humor.

Getting to the family matters... You and Jason talked a lot about them — specifically yours only — and you told him about your unbelievably and deeply in love parents, adorable but deadly siblings, uncle Fester and the entire thing that happened, cousins, traditions, ancestors, and other more.

“—And my great-uncle Imar, he was buried alive. I remember being thrilled when mother and father first told me about him. Being buried alive is such a wonderful experience, my sister Wednesday has been digging a grave ever since I’ve mentioned it to her.”

“Oh, yeah? Being buried alive is cool and all, but I’m more of a great-aunt Calpurnia fan. Nobody can be as brave as her to dance naked in the town square and enslave the minister.”

“You have such great taste, Jason.”

“I know, (Y/n).”

He absolutely loves your ancestors and family.

When it comes to his, though... Jason was hesitant to tell you about them, specially Bruce, but also because of his secret identity slash alter ego as Red Hood. Telling you about his family means he would have to reveal all the secrets as well, including his death and resurrection, and that’s not something he’s ready to do just yet. You didn’t deserve to know all the horror he’s been through, knowing you and your compassion. He doesn’t want you to carry the burden of knowing his sufferings. But he also didn’t want you to think he doesn’t trust you by not telling his side of family.

However, all you ever did was look at him with soft eyes when you sensed his discomfort and reluctance, gently placing a comforting hand on his shoulder to squeeze it reassuringly.

“Never speak of something you are not ready yet to reveal, beau. It’s okay. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

Never had he met someone so understanding it made his heart swell. And as he stares into your beautiful (e/c) eyes, he couldn’t help but realize he’s utterly, deeply, in love with you.

Well, shit. That took a fucking turn.

What is he supposed to do now? You’ve been best friends for two years already, he doesn’t want to fucking ruin it with his feelings. And you’re not even the one to do romance, even if you witness your parents doing it everyday. It was just not in your vocabulary.

Jesus, Todd. Get yourself together.

And he fucking didn’t.

Jason didn’t get a hold of himself, so it ended up in him avoiding you without meaning to. He wasn’t ignoring you, but neither did he pay attention to you either. He stopped spending time with you frequently, making excuses that he has something important to do, putting on his Red Hood helmet and patrolling every day just to avoid your presence. The amount of time you spent together lessened and lessened, but you always updated or sent him messages to keep in check.

Until his phone abruptly stopped receiving notifications.

He knew it would happen one day, that you will get tired of him and realize he wasn’t worth your effort or time, but it happened quicker and earlier than Jason had expected, so he can’t help but feel his heart break as his throat burned. It’s his fault for neglecting you, but still, it hurt.

Five days passed since you stopped messaging him and Jason found himself still checking his phone just in case, only to drop it on his bed with a sigh when it doesn’t bring up a notification. He would go on patrol more frequently than he used to for distraction, just wanting to get you out of his mind, but it was causing him to be rough and reckless unconsciously— something that even his family noticed.

So, it was inevitable that he’d slip up and make a mistake on one of his missions.

Bruce was reluctant on sending him to this mission as it involved the Joker and Jason was practically in an unstable condition from how easily he snapped at people, but if he didn’t, another heated argument would have sparked between them again and he was already getting tired of that. However, when the Joker manages to taunt Jason and push his buttons enough to have him start fighting recklessly, Bruce knew he shouldn’t have assigned it to his second oldest son.

His recklessness and easy-to-anger attitude got himself a stab and bullet wound, quite deep ones that prevented him from moving any further. Joker was standing in front of him with a gun in hand and knife in the other, looking down on him just like he used to before. Just as Jason braced himself for the gun shot to fire, a sai suddenly came into view and stabbed Joker on his hand, making him drop the gun and yell out in pain.

Jason looked at where the sai came flying from and saw an unfamiliar yet somehow familiar figure with a mask calmly strotting towards him, one hand twirling a sai, presumably the pair of the one that was thrown. Pulling the weapon roughly out of the manic-laughing Joker’s hand, he yelled in pain before getting his gut kneed by the person, knocking the air out of his lungs. While Joker was busy coughing and wheezing, the person quickly takes out a smoke bomb and threw it on the ground to activate, black smoke filling the place.

Without being given the time to process, Jason was immediately pulled by the person to flee from the scene while the Killer Prince of Clown is distracted, confusion rising in his mind why this unknown person was helping him. However, all his questions were answered when the person took off their mask after settling him on a rooftop.

You didn’t hesitate to show him your face despite still being dressed in that vigilante suit of yours in all your glory. Even though you should be mad at him for ditching and eventually ghosting you, deep concern laced your expression as you examine his whole body, anger or resentment nowhere to be seen. You were just... completely you.

And then, it clicked in his mind — you already knew about him being Red Hood. He isn’t sure when or how long, it just clicked in his mind because of how oddly calm you were at the situation by hand. He also realizes you’ve been following him and had figured beforehand that there’s a chance he’d mess up, due to the fully stacked first aid kit laying on the side of the rooftop you brought him.

Silence filled the air as you began to treat his wounds, an excruciatingly painful process in which you had to gauge the bullet out of his skin that had him groaning and yelling in pain. After the bullet was gone, you immediately went onto cleaning the blood off and the wound, along with the one caused by knife, before wrapping almost exaggerated amount of bandages around his body.

Jason can’t stop staring at you the entire time you were treating him, his helmet resting on his side. (because it made him trouble breathing, totally not because he was planning something)

“You had me worry so much there, Jason. Why were you fighting that way? I was aware you can be reckless at times, but this is—”

He cut you off by pressing his lips on yours. Heart beating rapidly against his chest, worry clouded his mind at the possible rejection, but it quickly vanished when he felt you kissing back as gently and carefully as possible not to hurt his busted lip.

“I must say I was quite furious at you even though I practically saved your life, but this dissolves it.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/n).”

“Take me out on a date and I might give you forgiveness.”

That’s how you two ended up together, with Jason taking you on a peaceful and romantic date at a restaurant that matched your dark goth aesthetic.

Speaking of dark goth aesthetic, Jason absolutely adores your fashion sense. It’s a classic old-fashioned goth style that fit your body perfectly well, sometimes you’d also wear modern type, though he saw it only about four times. Silver and black rings can be seen adorning your fingers — nails painted black — all the time, along with bracelets wrapped around your wrists and gothic necklace on your neck. He found out they were given to you by your parents, who were quick to notice your interest in jewelries.

Once, Jason gave you a gothic style necklace with a letter ‘J’ pendant on your birthday and you’ve been wearing it ever since, replacing the one that you had. You never took it off, viewing the necklace as practically a proof that you belong to him as much as he belongs to you (it was a pair with his having the first initial of your name as pendant), and it actually became one of your treasure that no one aside from Jason is allowed to touch.

We all know what will happen if anyone tries to LMAO

Nothing really changed between you two after finally getting together, being both best friends and soulmates at the same time. The only thing changed was that he didn’t patrol alone now; he had you by his side always watching his back. Jason also found himself not worrying about your safety as much as he did before, as he knew you can handle any criminals from how badass, ass-kicking, well-trained vigilante you are.

Though, since you got together, the all black clothing and aesthetic of yours seems to mix with one certain color; red. He finds it in most random things — your bookmark, one of your accessories, one of your long sleeved button-up shirts, one of your weapons; it’s just anywhere in your belongings even though black still covered the majority of them.

“Hey, baby?”

“Yes, mon amour?”

“Why do I see red in some of your things? I mean, I ain’t complaining but you don’t like bright colors.”

“So you haven’t noticed. Red is your colour, darling. I would always have it with me. Besides, it isn’t as bright as pastels and mix in well with black. Also reminds me of our blood, but that’s just the minority of my reasons.”

Jason’s heart swelled with love and pride. He didn’t stop kissing and hugging you the entire day.

RED AND BLACK AESTHETIC BOYFRIENDS. People always stare at you two because wow, there’s a badass, awesome, classy-looking goth and a hot guy radiating off bad boy energy walking around the streets of Gotham with intertwined hands and matching sunglasses, how could they not stare?

It’s obvious you’re boyfriends and some people gives you that nasty, disgusting looks upon seeing your intertwined hands which alone screams homophobia. You and Jason deal with it by rubbing it in their faces, being lovey-dovey and romantic, doing unnecessary amount of touching, calling each other every pet names you could come up with, and showing lots of PDA until they stop being such stupid assholes.

Though, most people you came across were genuine sweethearts and kind-hearted, who only ever smiled or stared with a soft look when they see you two, probably happy and relieved that a gay couple is getting comfortable to walk around together. Some of them would even approach just to give you and Jason compliments, like how good you look together, how awesome your outfit is, how you two are literally the coolest couple they have ever seen. Jason was glad they approached solely for the purpose of complimenting your relationship and not to spit nasty slurs, because the least he wants when you two have a date is to get in a fight and could possibly be arrested for public disturbance and physical assault.

Growing up watching your parents’s romance blossom all your life definitely shaped your love language into that of theirs, wherein you would praise Jason in such poetic ways, whisper love thoughts in his ear, and touch him with gentle hands like how your parents does. You treat him like a treasure, like he’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen, and Jason finds himself loving it more than he thought he would.

Meanwhile, Jason’s love language is physical (or any kind for that matter) affection and quality time. You find it adorable because he can’t keep his hands to himself and always either holding your hand or touching you despite being the ‘big bad wolf’ as he views himself to be. For a man with such rage and resentment towards the world, he’s the biggest softy when it comes to you and would throw everything away if he gets to be with you everyday 24/7.

You definitely exchanged some weapons at least once or more. There’s no way in hell you didn’t.

And you also definitely gave each other newly bought weapons on your anniversary as a gift, Jason’s being guns and yours being sais.

There’s a newly added shelf in Jason’s apartment for you to place your things there so you don’t have to bring them every time you come over. The shelf is, of course, painted black and actually shaped like a coffin to further show gothicness. Pictures of you together mostly decorated your shelf in black frames, along with a bunch of skulls and ancient crystal ball that your mother gave you. There’s also black roses and few of your favorite books; Frankstein by Mary Shelley, a book of Edgar Allan Poe’s classic stories, and We have always lived in the castle by Shirley Jackson.

Also, at one point, Jason was convinced his boyfriend’s a witch because when he got badly injured one day, you took out some mysterious ingredients stored in potion bottles and mixed them in to create what seemed like an antidote before rubbing it gently on his wounds, and they magically healed like three days later. He wouldn’t stop pestering you about it for a whole month, oddly excited of the possibility that you might be a witch since your ancestors had a history of witchcrafts.

“I was just taught by my grandmother how to create antidotes on emergencies, chéri. It’s nothing serious.”

“But you could be a witch!”

“Being a witch is more than just making antidotes, my dear Jason.”

“But you could still be a witch, I stand my point.”

Your grandmother also may or may not have taught you how to hex and curse people as well as how to use tarot cards, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Telling you about his fall-out and rekindle with Bruce, his torture and death and resurrection, as well as what he went through as a child took Jason two years in the relationship and four years since he met you. It didn’t bother you at all, knowing the trauma he endured isn’t easy to talk about, letting him play with your hands for comfort. He also told you about the criminals he killed and the thirst of vengeance and blood whenever Joker’s mentioned.

You stayed silent the whole time that worried Jason; you usually uttered comforting words whenever you noticed him troubled. But now, you were just silent even after he finished his story that had him think it might’ve been too much to take in. However, when he looked at you fearfully, his eyes immediately widened upon witnessing the utmost rage and murderous look on your face.

His boyfriend, who is almost impossible to anger or lose control of emotions, was fucking shaking with rage. Your self-control was impressive; you wanted so fucking bad to brutally torture and kill Joker, but knowing Jason needs you, pushed down the dark desire and pulled him into a tight embrace instead. You whispered words of comfort and encouragement and reassurance to him, yet your voice betrayed you as it was low, and dark, and just didn’t have the usual calm tone you had.

The next day, it was announced on Gotham City news that the Joker was sent to Arkham Asylum by an unknown vigilante, severely and brutally beaten by crowbar with all his nails pulled out and obvious signs of mild yet intense torture.

“Hey, baby? Take a look at this.”

“Well, well... What a wonderful news. I believe he should’ve been killed, though. The nails, broken bones and cut off tongue aren’t enough for him.”

“...They never said he got his tongue cut off, sweetheart.”

“Oh.”

He smirked and kissed you hard, absolutely proud of what you did.

Meeting your family was an extraordinary experience for Jason. Your parents, Gomez and Morticia, easily accepted and welcomed him into the family, thrilled that their son finally had someone to love. They’re always accepting, as you had told Jason. He got to see their romance that you often talked about and can’t help but notice you inherited both of their romantic side that he oh so loves.

Your siblings, Wednesday and Pugsley, were adorable to say the least even though Wednesday was quite terrifying for a girl. She actually likes Jason and initiated a conversation that she never did before with others, even referring to him as ‘big brother’ at the end of the day that had Jason grinning from ear to ear. He knew Wednesday didn’t like people and was basically an anti-social, homicidal maniac, so seeing her grow attached to him felt like he saved the whole world and was given a blessing. Pugsley, on the other hand, was totally amazed by him and threw him like, thirty questions about Red Hood. Apparently, Jason’s his favorite vigilante.

Watching you and your family interact was amusing as you were all funny without even trying, specially that time when you, Jason and your parents were having casual conversations in the dining table and Wednesday came walking past the four of you with mace in hand. Morticia had stopped talking to ask her “Is that for your brother?” and when Wednesday nodded, she extended her hands to you with palms up as you pulled a large axe from the set of woods on the ceiling and handed it to your mother, Morticia giving it to Wednesday with a “That’s better” said.

It happened so casually that Jason didn’t think much of it until he realized what just occurred and had to keep himself from laughing. Your family’s so cool and awesome he was thankful to be considered as one, already loving every single member.

He now had a new family and can’t wait to introduce you to his, nevermind the hesitance due to his annoying brothers.

Overall, you two are just utterly and madly in love despite your disturbing, homicidal mindset and his... well, Jason Todd attitude, and would do literally anything to ensure each other’s safety. You would kill for each other, even destroy the world, and nothing will be able to ruin what you have. Everyone’s practically jealous of your bond that they know they’ll never have with anyone.

One thing’s for sure — soulmates for life!!

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floralseokjin · 4 years

Text

The Zoom Halloween Party

⇢ and beyond timeline (after crystallised)

[saga index] [drabble index]

kim seokjin x reader // slice of life, humour // 2,556 words

a/n; thank you to all the anons who gave me ideas for this halloween drabble, it wouldn’t exist without you!

“I have to say your costumes are pretty lame this year, you guys.”

“We’re having a Halloween party over fucking zoom, forgive us for not going all out.”

Seokjin bit straight away, unable to help it. He and Namjoon were like cat and mouse at all times, but even you had to admit to being offended by your friend’s dismissal.

Halloween was finally here, and while you couldn’t celebrate in person together, the marvels of technology were letting you celebrate virtually – although this was more like a Halloween hang out than a Halloween party.

“I’m just saying,” Namjoon shrugged. “Hoseok went all out for his.”

You looked over at Hoseok’s screen, watching him smile smugly. You had to admit he made a great Joker, but it was also the year 2020... He and his girlfriend, Nora were like two years behind with the whole Joker and Harley Quinn gimmick, it was old now.

Seokjin rolled his eyes, willing to argue black and blue. “It’s only good because his mom helped him with the makeup.”

“Oh shut up, you’re just jealous because me and Hoseok will win best dressed tonight!” Nora scoffed under Hoseok in her own little screen.

Pouting like a baby, your boyfriend crossed his arms. “I’m not voting for you.”

“If anything, I should win. I make a mighty fine Batman.”

Attention back on Namjoon now, you all had to agree. But maybe that was because everyone was feeling sorry for him tonight. He was after all, the only single one amongst you. There was Jin and you, Lina and Jimin, Hoseok and Nora, and even though Sandeul was on his own tonight, he had Jess, who was working the night shift tonight. Two months ago there had also been Namjoon and Hana, but not anymore... Let’s just say Namjoon wasn’t having the best of time lately... Getting dumped during a pandemic wasn’t ideal. So he’d paired with Hobi and Nora tonight in some sort of DC-esque collab. He was definitely winning best dressed tonight, but maybe he’d see it as a pity vote…

“You’re body looks amazing in that suit, Joon,” you complimented, hearing Lina hum in supportive agreement.

“Hey!” Seokjin exclaimed, sounding mighty offended as he looked your way. You were smushed together on the couch, the takeout you’d ordered on your laps, but you were pretty full now, a belly full of wine already.

“The devil and an angel though.” Jimin’s voice sounded awfully judgemental. “Come on guys, so basic.”

“Well, who the hell did you to come as?” Seokjin was loud.

“Zombie Jim Halpert and Pam Beesly,” Lina replied as if your boyfriend was dumb.

“Lame,” Seokjin scoffed. “Half of these guys haven’t even watched The Office.”

“It’s a way more original idea than yours.”

You scoffed. “Um, this is the epitome of everyone’s sexual fantasy, I’ll have you know.”

“Whose?!” Lina roared, wrinkling her nose. She and Jimin were also squished together, but on his bed, the camera angle giving you an amazing shot of their chins... Not that you would tell your best friend that, of course.

“We all know what they’re doing after this then,” Sanduel stated. He was dressed as some character from a game he and Seokjin played (a lot.) Nerds.

“Stop,” Hoseok whined. “Does that mean you guys fucked as The Addams family couple last year?”

“Of course it does,” Namjoon replied matter-of-factly.

“Jesus.”

Ah yes, you two really had out done yourselves last year for Namjoon and Hoseok’s joint Halloween party. Thinking about it maybe your devil and angel costumes were quite lame this year…

“As if you didn’t guess,” Lina laughed. “They were reciting all those weird lines practically dry humping in the kitchen at one point.”

That was your cue, slamming into action, although as luck would have it you had re-watched The Addams Family two nights ago. You gripped Seokjin’s face, yanking him to look at you. “Seokjin, last night you were unhinged.” You began dramatically. “You were like some desperate, howling demon. You frightened me.” A pause for effect. “Do it again!”

Seokjin took your hand, in character immediately. He leaned down to kiss your knuckles. “Cara mia.”

You opened your mouth, ready to purr out mon cher in your best French accent but you were interrupted by Namjoon’s gagging noises. “That’s it, I’m leaving.”

Seokjin snapped his head around, unamused. “Bye.”

Everyone laughed… just before Hoseok sighed. “Aw, this makes me so depressed. I miss last year, when things were simpler.”

“This was the worst year to officially become an adult.” Nora joined in with a whine.

They were 100% correct. There couldn’t have been a worse year to graduate… The past few months had been so stressful but thankfully you were now in a much more stable place. Granted, you hadn’t been able to start the post-graduate internship you’d bagged right before the pandemic hit yet but eventually it would happen, and in the meantime you still had your retail job – and your savings.

Seokjin had truly lucked out, although his job at his father’s company had been set in stone since high school. He was working remotely until the end of the year (hopefully), rocking that business on top, casual down bottom fashion that he was so gleefully fond of – think a dress shirt and sweatpants ensemble – but you were so incredibly proud of him for adjusting so well after this shitfest of a year. He was your sexy, serious businessman.

Your friends hadn’t been as lucky though – well, mainly Hoseok and Namjoon who had recently moved back home with their parents while they job hunted. (That’s why the former and Nora were on separate screens – she still lived close by for work.) Lina hated her new job and Jimin still had a year left at college, so maybe he was better off at the moment... Sanduel and Jess were okay too, and had recently moved in with one another, leaving you and Seokjin to… follow suit…

It came as a surprise to you both, but it made more sense than the two of you living alone. You’d already grown used to it during those couple of months of lockdown at the start of the year and it felt weird after he’d left... It was a big step, but an easy one once you’d found the most perfect apartment to rent together. (You couldn’t officially live with one another in that shoebox of an old apartment, but it had been sad to leave it – you’d shared so many good times there.) It had only been about six weeks since you’d become official roomies, but you were loving every second of domestic bliss. Despite this crazy year, things were on the up, and you were very happy.

“Now we’re freshly graduated bums.” Namjoon moaned, knocking back the last of his beer.

Seokjin laughed. “Speak for yourself.”

“We can’t all have a CEO for a dad,” Namjoon shot.

“That sounds like a you problem.”

You pushed at your boyfriend’s shoulder, silently telling him to behave. Where was the sympathy for his heartbroken friend?

“At least you’re not stuck doing online classes.” Jimin piped up.

“I’d actually kill to be back there,” Namjoon chuckled. “I’m sick of receiving rejection emails.”

“Don’t give up hope, bro.” Hoseok told him. “I have an interview next week so fingers crossed.”

Nora squealed. “I hope you get it, babe. You need to get your ass back here. I miss you.”

You all missed him. And Namjoon. Even if you couldn’t all hang out like you were once able to, it was strange to think they were both living in different cities now. Last year seemed like an eternity ago, all you had were memories and even then they were murky.

“Guys, please,” Namjoon wailed, forehead hitting the screen as he threw forward dramatically. “One of us is single here.”

“Sorry.”

In fact, you all felt the need to apologise, a string of them following for no real reason other than you felt really bad for the guy. You knew he’d find a job soon, that wasn’t the problem really – whatever the company they’d be a fool to turn him down – you were just concerned about his mood. Getting dumped had come out of the blue so he was still adjusting, all while his life turned upside down in other ways too.

He hadn’t lost all sense of humour though, his trademark smirk growing across his face a few moments later. “So who will end up fucking on camera first?”

Amongst the groans, Sanduel scoffed. “Probably Mr and Mrs. Devil.”

“I’m an angel,” you corrected, a glass of wine back in your hand now. “Also, why would we fuck on camera? You guys don’t deserve the show.”

“God, you’re so drunk,” Lina screeched. She wasn’t exactly sober herself. Beside her Jimin winced at the volume.

“Of course I’m drunk, Lina, this is the first proper chance I’ve had in months.” Getting drunk alone was pretty miserable, now you had an excuse.

“So it’s definitely them who’ll start fucking first…” Hoseok muttered.

Seokjin heard him loud and clear though. He hooked his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him. “Yeah if we leave randomly you know this angel got horny for some devil dick.”

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed, pushing at his chest. He just laughed, reaching down to kiss you.

He did look mighty fine dressed as a devil though. Yeah, the red cape was basic but so were your angel wings and halo, but with his dark hair pushed back above his forehead, two red devil horns visible and his eyeshadow off the scale (your doing), he made a very, very sexy Satan!

Jimin pulled a face. “You’re actually going to fuck in those costumes, aren’t you?”

“Of course we are.” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “That’s what Halloween’s all about.”

“No, it’s not,” Nora laughed.

“I don’t know why you’re all so surprised,” Sandeul sighed before shovelling down some candy corn.

“You know them better than anyone,” Namjoon chuckled.

“I was the first to know! Sworn to secrecy for weeks!”

“Yeah, and she didn’t tell me for so long,” Lina whined. Even though it was ages ago now you were still pretty sure she was salty about it.

Hoseok snickered. “It was because she was embarrassed to be fucking him.”

You scoffed, about to refute his claims but Sanduel had more to say apparently. “And then I had to deal with Jin moping around when she dumped him for that basketball player.”

“She didn’t dump me,” Seokjin protested. “We won’t together then.”

“Bro, you were still moping though.”

“Awh, you guys,” you whined, running your fingers through the hair on the back of Seokjin’s head. “Stop teasing him.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek but he moved, stealing one from your lips instead.

“Great Deul, you’ve started them off again.” Hoseok moaned.

“I don’t care anyway. The amount of times I’ve heard them going at it has made me immune.”

“Sanduel, we’re not that bad!” You complained, leaning forward to place your glass down on the coffee table.

Seokjin had your back. “As if we haven’t heard you and Jess fuck before.”

That however was not at all interesting to your friends though. They blatantly ignored it for a more interesting direction of topic.

“Did you ever catch them?” Jimin asked, sounding weirdly excited.

“No actually, which is baffling.”

“You nearly did – multiple times,” Seokjin informed him, which instantly turned Sanduel grey. Not bothered, my ass.

“Why are you guys so obsessed with our sex life?” You whined loudly. Was theirs that boring?

“Ooo, let’s play a game!!” Lina exploded suddenly, sitting up, her head now cut off from the screen. “Who’s the freakiest!!!”

Seokjin turned to you gleefully. “We got this in the bag, babe.”

In your eyes, the questions were quite tame, so yes, you and Seokjin really were scoring first place left and right. Although you had a hunch Lina was holding back information. As her best friend you knew what she was like and she was being awfully quiet for someone who’d suggested the game…

“Where’s the weirdest place you’ve ever boned?” Nora asked, six questions in.

Seokjin didn’t even need a second. “Namjoon’s bedroom.” Your eyes bulged immediately, surprised he’d gone there.

“What?” Namjoon choked.

“Sorry, man. It just kinda happened.” Seokjin glanced at you, deeply amused. Poor Namjoon didn’t need more bad news.

“You guys have fucked in my bedroom?”

“Well, technically it’s not your bedroom anymore, but yeah,” you shrugged.

“When?”

The third degree was real. “A while back.”

“What the fuck you guys,” he groaned, his face a picture. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Lina couldn’t help but add.

“You, be quiet!” You warned, although you knew she wouldn’t spill. Your secret was safe with her.

Namjoon was looking more and more scared by the second. “What the fuck did you guys do in there?” Seokjin just laughed loudly. “Did you at least clean up?” He got no reply. He was deadly serious with his next question. “Did you make Ryan watch?”

“Namjoon!” Seokjin cried, practically wiping tears from your eyes. Maybe he was more drunk than you… You hadn’t realised. “He’s a stuffed animal.”

“That plush is all I have now.”

“Pity, the guy’s recently been dumped. This is bullying,” Hoseok interrupted, sticking up for his friend.

“It’s not,” your boyfriend insisted.

“Aw, Namjoon, I’m sorry,” you apologised, feeling guilty now. How could you make it up to him? “When all this is over you can come over and fuck someone in our bedroom.”

“What,” Seokjin protested. You ignored him.

“Who though?” Namjoon asked, sounding sad.

“You’ll meet someone new soon enough.” Lina reassured him. “You’re any girls dream guy.”

He perked up at that. “You think so?”

“Legit, man,” Jimin joined in.

“Wait,” Sandeul interrupted, seemingly realising something. “Is the costume roleplay exclusive to Halloween?”

… Of course the conversation was back on you and Jin…

“Why?” You asked.

“Because Namjoon had a fancy dress party for his birthday last year…”

Seokjin shrugged. “Any celebration.”

Sanduel instantly looked disgusted. “So you guys fucked as The Incredibles couple?”

You and Seokjin didn’t reply, but your faces said it all.

Namjoon groaned loudly. “I want to scoop my brain out.” Then he thought of something. “Was it in my bedroom?”

“Noooo!”

“Yes.”

You both replied at the same time and you pushed Seokjin. Now he was just purposely teasing his friend.

“Who’s lying?” Namjoon demanded, but Sanduel was too busy going through it, distracting you all.

“The Incredibles is my favourite childhood movie, man, now I feel gross. I can’t watch it ever again because I’ll imagine you two trying to superhero fuck.”

Your friends were way too dramatic. It wasn’t even a big deal, they were making it out to be way kinkier than it was, and Seokjin wasn’t helping matters. You were literally just having normal sex dressed up. That’s all.

“This game has taught me I’m best friends with a bunch of vanilla ice creams,” Seokjin tutted. “It’s called having fun. Something you guys can’t seem to do.”

“You all suck!” You agreed.

Hm, maybe you were just as guilty as your boyfriend… It was just too damn amusing goading your friends…

#bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:crystallised

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vampiresuns · 4 years

Text

Aelius Anatole Radošević De Silva

Anatole has changed a bit as a character since i was around the first time, so he’s getting re introduced. His open to make friends.

art by @elizastarkart

Name: Aelius Anatole Radoševic De Silva. He has two surnames because his mother is latina. He is a mixed Latine-Slav, with family that is all latine, vesuvian, and slavic. People he’s friend’s with call him Anatole (russian/greek pronunciation, he doesn’t acknowledge the French one). Only people he has a strictly professional relationship with, and his uncle call him Aelius.

‘Aelius’ means sun, while ‘Anatole’ means sunrise. He’s fully aware of this, he chose his name himself.

His nicknames are:

‘Nana’ is the most common nickname, and the one most people use.

His mother calls him Lilito, Nana, Nanito, Toly, Tolito, Tortolito.

His father calls him Lily or Lilu.

Toly, Tolytoly or Tolito are nicknames used by his maternal grandmother, his aunt, and his Vesuvian family.

He will not mind if you want to call him Toly, but you cannot call him Lily/Lilu if you’re not his father.

Asra came up with Nanatole, which he doesn’t like but lets Asra call him anyway. Asra also came up with Nana Banana and that is absolutely forbidden.

Family: on his father’s side both the Radošević, who are slavic (yugoslavic, specifically), and the Cassano, a prominent Vesuvian family who has had a hold of the Consulship for years.

On his mother side, the De Silva.

His father’s name is Vladislav, but everyone calls him Vlad, he’s an alchemist, a polymath, and works in what is most similar to biochemical engineering. He has one bother, named Valeriy, who you, however, might now as Valerius. Vlad’s biggest personality trait is being head over heels in love with his wife, and adoring his son more than he thought it was humanly possible to care about someone.

His mother’s name is Louisa De Silva (if you want to add her mother’s surname, it’s Lascal). The L-o-u spelling was a registry mistake she never changed. She moved half across the world while her native country suffer a military-civilian dictatorship to study Medicine. She swore never to go back as long as vestiges of said dictatorship remained in the country. She has two sisters: Paris, who lives in Vesuvia, and Alma, who remained with her parents out of her own choosing. Her medical experience include having been a volunteer war doctor. She didn’t change her surname when she got married.

The Radošević (pronounced Radozheveech) and the Cassano have been entangled families by friendship for generations upon generations, with some marriages between them. Notoriously: Vlad and Val’s father married a Cassano, Matilda, and his bother Mircea, Anatole’s great uncle, also married a Cassano: Florentino. Mircea’s brother and Matilda Cassano died when Vlad and Val were children still, so him and Florentino brought them up.

The Radošević are an overall eccentric family (think the european Addams family), whom are noted for: one, their self-sufficiency/self-preservation, which comes out in a very ‘eccentric people of the world unite’ manner. They appreciate people with character. Two, their leanings towards trades/professions, they do not conceive not doing anything (work hard to play hard). The Cassano, while sharing the quirk, they add the zest for life. It’s like they grabbed the Radošević and told them “you have forgotten how to live and we will remind you how.” Both of them are ridden with racially ambiguous bastard you cannot kill in any way that matters. They simply refuse to. Someone (either the courtiers or Lucio) compared them to roaches, they took it as a compliment.

This will tell you a lot about Anatole’s character.

On a last note, Anatole’s an only child. He has a good relationship with his parents, albeit marked by a sense of distance, solely because he was privately tutored from age 15 and on, which required him to travel a fair share. He was an argumentative teenager, but always cherished whenever he could see his parents. The older he gets, the closer they all become.

Favourite Food: Cake

Favourite drink: Coffee, in general.

Favourite Flower: Iris

Birthday: Nov 1st

Age: 29 (I calculate his age as if he had been born in 1991)

Zodiac:

Sun: Scorpio

Moon: Virgo

Rising: Libra

Mercury & Mars: Scorpio

Venus: Virgo

Patron arcana: Strength & Ace of Swords

Strength

Upright: inner strength, bravery, compassion, focus, Reversed: self doubt, weakness, insecurity

Ace of Swords

Upright: breakthrough, clarity, sharp mind, Reversed: confusion, brutality, chaos

MBTI Type: INTJ-A

Gender: Transmasculine, but Nonbinary. Uses He/Him pronouns only

Orientation: Identifies as NBLM.

LIs: Julian, Muriel, @ilyamatic‘s Andrico, @thelazaretmakesmesad‘s Vishal.

“The sun-like strategist with a solution for everything, and a whole lot of hope in the future.”

More details under the cut!

Physical appearance:

art by @lesbianarcana

5′4. As you can see in the sprite down below, while he’s slim but with muscle, out of doing a moderate to high level of physical activity. The man has a nice waist and inherited his mother’s hips, which he’s very proud of. He likes his legs and his butt the most about himself

Dark brown eyes, long eyelashes. His hair is naturally black, but he dyes it blond.

Has a mole over his right eyebrow, on the left side of the bridge of his nose, and on his left jaw. He has freckles.

An horizontal scar on his nose, which he got by getting hit with a wooden scaffold square in the face. His nose wasn’t broken out of sheer dumb luck. He has a smaller cut on his cheekbone, which was done by a fencing sabre which lacked the proper tip protection/button. It was done onto him by someone else.

The nose scar is how he met Julian before the plague, as he was the doctor which cured his face.

He has several tattoos:

Right arm: A rapier on his inner forearm. Over his elbow he has a black work band, and over it the words ‘THE SUN IS MY UNDOING’ in all caps, circling his arm.

Left arm: a snake wrapped around his forearm, near to the wrist. The Odyssey quote ‘let’s have a toast to the incompetence of our enemies’ under the inner crook of his elbow, and a floral half sleeve.

Chest and Torso: AMOR OMNIA VINCIT over where his heart is supposed to be. He has laurel leaves on the base of his waist.

Legs: ‘o serpent heart hid with a flowering face‘ in his upper, inner thigh, like really up his left inner thigh. A floral anklet on his right ankle.

Languages Spoken: Too many. He speaks nine languages.

Magic Specialities: His magic is connected to both light and languages (it is a play on words with ‘logos’) so he is both adept in photokinesis — he is able to create and manipulate sources of light — and language related magic — which includes incantation and language manipulation. He learns languages as a faster rate than most people, and while he cannot speak or literally understand a language unless he learns it, his magic allows him to intuitively grasp the meaning of words that are being spoken to him.

This capacity also makes him very good at recognising hidden intentions in people. This is not an ability that he broadcasts having, and when he later succeeds Valerius as the Consul, it is something which aids his diplomatic work but he keeps private.

His words tend to carry more weight sometimes because of his magic, something which he can’t always control — it depends on many factors — so he tries to choose his words carefully and with consideration.

His familiar is a Raccoon, named Antu.

Occupation: While he did study magic and is in touch with his magic, he studied politics, diplomacy and international relations. By trade, and out of will to help people, he is a political analyst and, later in life, a Statesman.

Personality/Trivia:

Willpower or Stubbornness? Depends how you look at it. Passionate, generally devoted, hopeful, independent and sometimes defiant. He is a people-oriented introvert. Competitive, but not aggressively so.

Smarter than he gives himself credit for. Overall charming, even debonair.

Curious by nature, hates having his decisions taken for him.

He is proper, sometimes even distinguished, but he is feral. A firm believer in being kind and compassionate with people, until you cross him one too many times, then nothing will make him taint his vindictive wrath.

Is he humble? For the most part. His humbleness comes from knowing his own limits and knowing he’s not infallible. He does have, however, a good deal of pride in himself and trust in what he can do, and he doesn’t like being underestimated.

He’s not particularly loud, though when the chatterbox is on, then it is on, specially if he’s nervous. He is often never still.

He’s known he has ADHD since he was seventeen.

Likes dancing.

He fences, almost every Radošević fences/sword fights, and he will let you know at the slightest chance. Which can be either him simply being hyper-fixated in fencing, him flirting, or him letting you know that if the occasion rises, he’s armed.

Friend shaped, lover shaped if you’re daring enough.

He wrinkles his nose when he doesn’t like something.

Speaking of which: he doesn’t like abuse of power, the Court, injustice, supremacists of any kind, unkind, hurtful and selfish people in general; he doesn’t like red meat (he says it tastes like metal or dirt), narrow minded people, incompetence, specially when displayed by people in positions of power, and purposeful apathy.

A mastermind archetype, but he draws his power from connection. He does not conceive a life not lived with others.

A bit of a bastard, he enjoys a good laugh.

He plays the piano and the harp, he sings, he cannot draw, he’s a lightweight when it comes to alcohol (which doesn’t really stop him), he likes the opera because he likes watching other people’s drama without being dragged into it, and his favourite season is winter. Also likes playing chess, reading, coffee, flowers, a well tailored outfit, learning, languages, the sea, mysteries, winter, a well laid argument, collecting quills, music, winning, knowing he loves and is loved in return.

When he was 7 he bribed his dad for more dessert, and he ate so much he vomited. His sweet tooth hasn’t gone anywhere, it is alive and well.

Perceptive little bastard, will knife cat you for the sake of it. He has a way more present sense of humour than what he comes across.

Would call himself a ‘trans masculine Mary Poppins’.

He is closest to his parents, his uncle, my other ocs Leonore, Medea and Sabine, his cousins Amparo Cassano and Milenko Radošević, Natiqa, Asra, Portia and Nadia.

If he liked women, he would be paired with Nadia. The possibility both terrifies and fascinates me.

@ilyamatic, @viviae, @gaybirdwrites, @arcanaprentiss @apprenticeofcups

#the arcana oc #the arcana mc #aelius anatole

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sablelab · 4 years

Text

👻 Spooky meets Kooky 🎃

SUMMARY: Claire reminisces about the time when she first came to Scotland and fell through the stones on the eve of Samhain. Jamie tells her a story his da told them as bairns, and Claire recaps her favourite Halloween memory from the future which has James Fraser all engrossed in more ways than one.

A spoof of when the past meets the future. Retelling parts of Chapter 1, pp 22-25 from Drums of Autumn, inspired by Halloween with the Addams Family and Vera Adxer’s artwork above.

AO3

PART 1 … The Tale of the Tannasg 👻

It was nearing to Halloween time on Fraser’s Ridge, and as the Frasers prepared for a night beside the fire, Claire was reminiscing about times gone by on that fateful night that was to become her destiny.

“Jamie, Halloween, the spookiest night of the year, is almost upon us.”

“Don’t ye mean Samhain Sassenach?” he replied cheekily knowing that the two were indeed similar celebrations centuries apart.

“I do, but I was just thinking about the first time that Frank and I came to Inverness all those years ago … I remember it was on the eve of Samhain.”

She continued to tell Jamie the conversation they’d had in Mrs Baird’s Bed and Breakfast not realizing that her husband’s mind was elsewhere. “I can still recall what she said …”

“Well, you've picked a bonny time to be here. Just nigh on Samhain.”

“I take it that's Gaelic for "Halloween?”

“Well, Halloween is derived from Samhain. You're both welcome at the festival, of course.”

“Of course, what would Halloween, Samhain, be without a good ghost story?”

“Oh, and we have those, for sure. I hope you'll join us for Samhain tomorrow night.”

“What, the pagan festival?”

“Aye. There’s a circle of standing stones on the hill just outside the village, and there's a local group who still observe rituals there. It’s a place called Craigh na Dun and according to local folklore, the stones were carried there from Africa by a race of Celtic giants …”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hmmph! Not Frank …” Jamie mumbled under his breath tapping his fingers against his thigh in dislike.

The mention of Frank Randall’s name only brought back his feelings towards the man he had sent his Claire back to on the eve of Culloden knowing that he would surely die on the battlefield. His emotions were still raw about this man even after all these years and their conversation about him and their daughter Brianna echoed in his head as Claire was still speaking.

“I hadna thought ever to be so jealous of a dead man. I shouldna have thought it possible.”

“Of a dead man? Of Frank?”

“Who else? I have been worm-eaten wi’ it, all these days of riding. I see his face in my mind, waking and sleeping. Ye did say he looked like Jack Randall, no?”

“How? How could you think of such a thing?”

“How could I not? Ye heard her, Claire; ye ken well what she said to me!”

“Brianna?”

“She said she would gladly see me in hell, and sell her own soul to have her father back—her real father. I keep thinking he would not have made such a mistake. He would have trusted her; he would have known that she … I keep thinking that Frank Randall was a better man than I am. She thinks so. I thought … perhaps ye felt the same, Sassenach.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser …!” Claire remonstrated noticing that her husband seemed a little distracted, “… Are you listening to me?”

“Aye, I am Sassenach,” he replied sheepishly knowing that his mind had indeed been elsewhere. “I’m intrigued about that night in Inverness, and what happen to ye before ye fell through the stones.” Jamie looked at his wife and gave her his full attention to what she might say next.

“Do you know that if I hadn’t gone to see the Druids that night, and returned in the morning to collect the Forget-me-nots, that I may not have ever gone through the stones and found you.”

“We were fated mo ghràidh. Ye would have found yer way to the stones regardless because I was waiting for ye on the other side. I thank the day, Murtagh brought ye to me at the cabin.” He leaned towards his love and clasping her hand brought it to his lips placing a tender kiss to the top of her hand and knuckles.

Claire blushed at her love’s romantic gesture and looking at him explained about that night so long ago. “I remember seeing those Druids dancing. They were mesmerizing Jamie twirling in circles on top of the hill with their burning tapers. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled at the sight of them, but some small voice inside warned me I wasn't supposed to be there. That I was an unwelcome voyeur to something ancient and powerful.”

“Aye, ye were Sassenach, but that is the mystery of Samhain. It is all about the supernatural, witches, spirits and fire. During the celebrations, people dance around bonfires while the dances tell stories of life and death. What ye saw that night was something magical that drew you tae me.”

“I wouldn’t change anything Jamie except for you sending me back on the eve of Culloden, but we found each other again and that is all that counts.”

“Aye. You belong wi' me. We're mated for life Sassenach. I barley lived for those twenty years wi'out a heart when ye were gone. I lived half a man and accustomed myself to live in the bit that was left. Did ye feel the same?”

“Yes, I knew how that felt, and had it not been for Brianna I don’t know how I would have survived too. But I had you always close because our daughter was so like you Jamie. Your carved initial in the flesh of my palm was also a constant reminder of our love. It gave me comfort whenever I touched it. When I closed my eyes, I could feel you touching me.”

Claire looked at the man she adored thankful every day that they had been reunited and that their two-decade separation had been both painful and heart breaking for each of them. “It was lonely without you, so lonely.”

“And me,” Jamie replied pensively, his voice a soft whisper. “I saw ye so many times. You came to me so often. When I dreamed sometimes. When I lay in fever. When I was so afraid and so lonely, I knew I must die. When I needed you, I would always see ye, smiling, wi’ yer hair curling up about your face.” He paused before an outpouring of emotion surfaced. “During that time apart, I prayed every day that you and our bairn would be safe, for whether I’m dead or you, whether we’re together or apart Claire, I will always love ye.”

“And I you, Jamie.”

“Samhain was the beginning of our destiny Sassenach. A pagan, Gaelic festival brought us together.” He kissed her palm and rested it on his heart.

Claire could feel his heart beating and her eyes misted over just thinking about the significance of this special time of the year. “All I know of Samhain is what Mrs Baird told us. Please tell me more Jamie.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Samhain is a three-day celebration in preparation for winter mo ghràidh and a time for kin all around the Highlands tae come together and feast. People believe that deceased spirits and faeries of the Otherworld can easily come into our world, so ye would honour the dead and implore loved ones to bestow some blessing on them in return. Offerings of food and drink are left outside for the spirits, even portions of crops are left in the ground for them.”

Claire listened, attentive to everything that Jamie was telling her.

“Tricks and pranks are played but blamed on faeries and spirits ye ken. Children disguise themselves as evil spirits by blackening their faces and dressing in auld clothes to go guising door-to-door reciting songs and verses in exchange for food.”

“Why do they blacken their faces?”

“’Twas so that they can venture out safely wi’out being detected by wicked spirits in hope of fooling them and to scare away the ghouls who might want tae harm them.”

“It is so like what happens at Halloween in the future too Jamie. A lot of Scots came to America in the 20th Century and brought these customs with them and they evolved to become extremely popular. There are many similarities to Samhain but also some differences too. In the future people dress up in masks and spooky costumes and the children go Trick or Treating for sweets.”

“Aye, it would seem so mo nighean donn. Samhain and Halloween do seem verra similar.”

“Mrs Baird said that you needed to be mindful for ghosts are freed on the feast days and wander about, free to do good or ill as they please.”

“’Tis true Sassenach. I myself have not seen a tannasg, but there are tales of others who have.”

“A tannasg? What, in Heaven’s name is that, Jamie?”

“Oh, a Dhia … where tae begin,” he exclaimed running his hand over his chin in thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taking a deep breath as if calming himself before he started to explain, Jamie picked up his cup of ale and took a big swig before beginning. He looked at Claire as she waited for his explanation.

“Some say a tannasg is a balding, six-foot-tall, hairy, Celtic beastie, normally only found wandering around the hills and glens at night. Some say it is eerily like a fogy mist that covers the moors on a dark night and is what ye may call an apparition, a spirit or a shadowy ghost figure. Nobody really kens what it is but, nae matter, a tannasg is verra scary and if you come upon one when out in the glens ye must be verra careful. Sometimes it’s an unfriendly faerie or nymph who may have been holding onto a grudge and means tae cause trouble. A tannasg would put the fear of the Almighty in ye and scare ye witless. If ye ever were to meet one it would make yer hair stand up like a man’s cock in the mornin’ Sassenach.”

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ! I’m scared with just the description of one.”

“And so ye should be a leannan. They are verra scary beasties that ye wouldna want to meet.”

“Oh, I do love hearing a scary ghost story Jamie. Can you tell me any about tannasgs?”

Claire watched as his lip curved up into a smile. He had that twinkle in his eyes that she knew so well whenever he was going to tell a story.

“Aye, I will. Sit yerself down by the fire and I’ll tell ye one that ma da told us wee bairns that scairt us truly.”

Settling down more comfortably in her chair, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and waited for her husband to retell the tale told to him, his brother William and sister Jenny long, long ago.

“I can tell ye a frightfully spooky tale of the past. It’s a spine-chilling story guaranteed tae give you a good thrill and chill ye to the bones.”

“I think I best have a wee dram of whisky ready for the story you are about to tell then James Fraser.”

“Aye …” He picked up his cup of ale and they both took a wee sip of their drinks. “Sláinte. Are ye ready Sassenach?”

“I am.” Claire curled her feet up in the chair whilst Jamie began to tell the tale of the tannasg.

“My father loved telling this story.”

She watched as a muted glow descended over Jamie’s face as the light from the fire fell across his features and highlighted the animation she could see on his face and in his eyes. Claire looked at him waiting with bated breath ready for him to retell this tale, for she knew that she was going to enjoy this story very much indeed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Tis the story of a man who was afraid of being alone in the dark and most mortally scairt of the spirits, ye ken, and how one night he met a tannasg. I remember when my da first told this story. I was mortally scairt too Sassenach.”

His body shuddered a little despite the heat in the room at the thought of the untold story he would tell. “I kept awake half the night, after he told us this tale, though it dinna seem to bother Jenny that much.”

“Oh, my,” Claire uttered her voice eager to hear more. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, her eyes round with the wonder and intrigue that he would impart with his tale as Jamie began to recount his childhood story.

Settling himself in his seat by the fire, he sat back, his ale cup in hand. Thinking, he rubbed his hand across his chin collecting his thoughts. Jamie then smiled at his wife wryly glancing at her as he began to recount his tale of long ago.

“Ah, well, it was in the late, cold autumn in the Highlands, just when the season turns and the chill in the air tells ye the ground will be covered wi’ frost come morning.”

Rolling the pewter cup slowly between his hands, he stared down into the dark ale as though seeing those Scottish peaks in the pitch-black night and the mist that floated across the glens. Raising his eyes, he looked at Claire. She was hanging on each word and so he continued.

“Well Jock MacBride’s son brought back their kine from the glen that night, but there was one wee beast missing. The lad had hunted for it up the hills and down the dales but couldna find it anywhere, so his da sent the lad to milk the two others and set out himself tae look for the lost cow.”

“Go on …”

“The da went some distance, but his cottage behind him soon disappeared. When he looked back, he couldna see the light from the window anymore and there was no sound but the whistling of the wind. It was cold, but MacBride went on trapsing through the mud and heather as the ice crunched beneath his boots echoing in the stillness.”

Claire pulled her shawl around her shoulders. If her husband could see her eyes, he would have seen that her pupils were decidedly larger. She was so engrossed with his story thus far and took another wee sip of her drink. With eyes fixed on Jamie, she couldn’t wait to hear more of his tale.

“Soon up ahead of him, Jock saw a small grove through the mist and thinking the cow might have taken shelter beneath the trees, he went toward it. However, the trees were birches, standing there with nae a leaf, and with their branches all gnarled together, so he bent his head to squeeze beneath the boughs.”

“What did he see when he got through the branches Jamie?”

“He came into the grove Sassenach, and saw it was not a grove at all, but a circle of trees. There were great tall trees, spaced verra evenly all around him and smaller ones too wi’ saplings grown up in between the trees to make a wall of thick branches. In the centre of the circle stood a cairn.”

Claire felt as though a sliver of cold ice had just slid down her spine. She got chills listening to him and shivered imagining the scene, for his picture was very real in her mind. She had seen ancient cairns in the Highlands herself that Jamie had just described and found them eerie enough in the broad light of day, let alone to see one at night. That would have been quite spooky indeed.

Jamie was getting that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach he remembered feeling as a bairn when his father had told this tale. He looked over at Claire and she had an expression of foreboding for what he may say next on her face that he’d had too. He took a sip of ale to loosen his vocal cords for his mouth was dry before continuing.

“He felt quite queer did Jock MacBride, for he kent the place, everyone did and kept well away from it. It was strange and it seemed even worse in the dark and the cold than it did in the daylight. It was an auld cairn the kind laid wi’ chunks of rock all heaped round with stones. He was scairt, but he slowly glanced up, and saw before him the black opening of a tomb.”

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ! Was there a tannasg in there?”

Her husband gave her a piercing look. Jamie knew that Claire’s mind was thinking ahead and knew that he was getting close to revealing what Jock had seen.

“He knew it was a place that no man should come, and he was without a powerful charm to ward off any spirits. Jock had naught but a wooden cross about his neck, so he crossed himself with it and turned tae go.”

Jamie paused to take another sip of his ale to catch his breath. Claire saw his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed and reached instinctively for her own cup with eyes fixed on her beloved. Holding her breath, she gasped, “Don’t stop there. What happened next?”

Giving her the semblance of a wink and a wry grin, he paused then spoke softly stating, “As Jock went from the grove … he heard footsteps behind him.”

“No…!” she exclaimed.

“He dinna turn to see, but kept walking and the steps kept pace wi’ him, step by step always following. Jock came through the peat where the water seeps up and it was covered with ice, the weather bein’ so cold ye ken. MacBride could hear the peat crunch under his feet and behind him the cr-ack! cr-ack! of the breaking ice.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

James Fraser was a natural born storyteller, animated and engaging like most Scots were and listening to him speak reminded Claire of their wedding night and the awkwardness between them. She remembered him saying, “You’re a Fraser now Sassenach. You must learn to tell a story and listen to one.” So, to put her at ease, he’d told her story after story of his family and his life growing up and she in turn had told him about her life too. Her husband was in his element telling this story just like on the night they wed. She knew, that Jamie was aware that she hung on his every word and was eager to hear the rest of the story. The tension was building and placing her legs to the floor, Claire removed her shawl as it was getting warmer in the room and leaned forward eager to hear more of his tale.

“Jock MacBride walked and walked through the cold dark night watching ahead for the light of his own window where his wife had set the candle. But the light never showed and he began tae fear he had lost his way among the heather and the dark hills.”

“The tassasg was following him?”

“Aye, he was Sassenach. All the time the steps kept pace with him echoing loud in his ears. At last Jock could bear it no more and seizing hold of the cross he wore round his neck he swung about wi’ a great cry tae face whatever followed.”

There was apprehension in her voice for poor Jock. “What did he see?”

Jamie glanced at Claire and when next he spoke, his voice was so quiet, almost like a whisper, that she needed to concentrate to hear what he was saying.

“It was a figure like a man, but with no body. It was all white like it might have been made of the mist, but wi’ great holes where its eyes should be. They were black and empty and fit tae draw the soul from MacBride’s body with fear.”

Claire gasped with a cry of anguish at the description, and placed her hand across her mouth. “What did he do Jamie?

“Jock held up his cross before his face and he prayed aloud to the Blessed Virgin,” he said leaning forward intently. “The thing came no nearer Claire, but stayed there watching him.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The dim firelight outlined her husband’s profile in a halo of golden aura which made his rustic hair seem like it had flecks of gold and crimson sprinkled in it as well. Suddenly, she was a little distracted by the man and was mesmerized by his intoxicating Scottish drawl. Claire’s eyes glazed over overcome with feelings for the virile man whose silhouette was oh so tempting in the fire’s glow, but also for poor Jock MacBride and how he would get out of his predicament. She held her breath and waited for what would happen next.

“And so, he began to walk backwards not daring to turn around again. Jock walked backward stumbling and slipping in an effort to get away from the spirit, fearing every moment that he might tumble into a burn or down a cliff and break his neck, but fearing worse tae turn his back on the cold thing.”

“I would have done the same Jamie. Better to watch the tannasg than not to know where it was,” she added with a little shiver of dread for the poor Jock MacBride.

“He couldna tell how long he’d walked only that his legs were trembling wi’ weariness. Then at last he caught a glimpse of a light through the mist, for there was his own cottage wi’ the candle in the window. Jock cried out in joy and turned to his door, but the cold thing was quick and slipit past him tae stand between him and the door.”

“Oh no!”

“Dinna fash Sassenach, his wife had been watching out for him and when she heard him cry out, she came to the door at once. Jock shouted to her not to come out but to go and fetch a charm to drive away the tannasg. Quick as could be, Bessie MacBride snatched the pot from beneath her bed and a twig of myrtle tied with ribbons that she’d made to bless the cows. She dashed the water against the doorposts and the cold thing leapt upward straddlin’ the door’s beam. Her husband quick as a flash, rushed beneath and bolted the door shut tight. He stayed inside in his wife’s arms until the dawn hoping that the tannasg would nae come inside the cottage. They let the candle burn all the night and Jock never again left his house past sunset.”

Claire sighed as Jamie finished speaking. “Did they find the cow?” she queried, keen to know the fate of the lost kine.

With a raised eyebrow he answered, “Oh, aye they did. The next morning, they found the poor beast wi’ her hooves all clogged wi’ mud and stones. It was staring mad and frothy about the muzzle. Her sides were heavin’ fit to burst. Jock said that she looked as though she’d been ridden tae Hell and back.”

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!” Claire exclaimed imagining the visual of what had happened to the poor cow.

Jamie glanced at his wife to see her reaction to his tale. “Did ye like it?”

“Like it? … I loved it Jamie. It kept me in suspense all the way through.”

“Thank ye Sassenach. I’m glad ye liked it,” he replied very pleased with himself.

PART 2 … Halloween Addams Family style. 🎃

“So, what about you Claire? Do ye have a tale tae tell as well?”

“As a matter of fact, I do Jamie, and when I’ve caught my breath, I will tell you something about Halloween from the future. My tale will not be as scary as your story of Jock MacBride though,” she replied with a cheeky twinkle in her eye. “In fact, it is about something that you might find hard to wrap your head around.”

Intrigued with his wife’s words, Jamie sat back in his chair and waited for her to begin. With a curl of his lip and a sparkle in his eye he asked, “And what might that be Sassenach?”

“Television.”

His brow furrowed in thought and Jamie raised an eyebrow a little perplexed as he glanced at Claire. “Television? … Hmmph?” He tapped his fingers against his thigh in concentration and ran the word slowly over his tongue as if savouring a new morsel of information, he didn’t quite know enough about. “Television ye say.” He looked at Claire again in earnest anticipation and waited for her to explain.

“Oh dear…” she sighed. “Where to begin?” Collecting her thoughts on how to explain this invention to her husband, Claire finally had an idea. “Remember when you rescued me from the Witch Trial and I told you I was from the future?”

“Aye, I remember mo ghràidh.”

“Well this is another one of those things from the future too. It is something from my time. You've never heard of it. No one here has, that is except for Bree and Roger.”

He grinned at her statement of the obvious. “Well then, I may not understand it a bit, not yet, but I trust ye. I trust yer word; yer heart and there is a truth between us. So ... whatever you tell me ... I will believe ye, Sassenach. Tell me more.”

Claire bit her lip before she spoke. “Do you also remember the photographs I brought back to show you of Brianna?”

Jamie made a small inarticulate sound, “Aye I remember.”

He remembered all too well Claire taking a small packet from her clothing, to show him the photographs of their beloved daughter Brianna, a fine boned, and delicate replica of himself. He looked up at his wife wondering what the correlation may be with the photographs and this television.

“Well television is those pictures brought to life.”

He remembered how he had splayed his hand out over the photographs, with trembling fingers not quite touching the shiny surface. How was it possible that pictures could be brought to life? He was a little perplexed.

“Television is a machine with a small screen that shows moving pictures and sounds. They were commonplace in many households in Boston during the 60’s and we had one too. The word "television" comes from the words …”

But before she could finish what she wanted to say Jamie butted in with his knowledge of the Greek language.

“Tele is the Greek word for far away, and vision would mean sight.”

A smile softened her lips, “Yes, that’s right.”

He shook his head in disbelief when Claire described something so unfathomable that it was hard to believe some such machine existed. He didn't understand it all, but he listened. Claire had risked bringing the photographs of Brianna through the stones and thus brought something of the 20th century into the 18th century. However, although still a little mystified, nothing she had told him about the future fazed him now and he believed her despite how inconceivable what she was saying could be.

“Television was used for family entertainment and we would sit around in our parlour and watch the screen.” Claire’s voice was animated when she next spoke. “There was a program on the television that you would have loved Jamie, called The Addams Family. Brianna and I loved that show.”

He grinned. “I would verra much have liked to see this television program too Sassenach.” If they loved it, he knew he would love it too.

“They were not your typical family; they took delight in most of the things of which normal people would be terrified. They were kooky and eccentric but they were a very close-knit, extended family.”

“Ah, so just like us here on Fraser’s Ridge Sassenach,” he replied giving her a huge, big smile.

“Yes, I guess, but there was one difference though Jamie, they had decidedly macabre interests and supernatural abilities.”

He balked at that. “Oh, indeed they wouldna fit in well in this time then. People believe in witches and things that go bump in the night, but they wouldna understand them at all. They would have their heads on a pike before ye could count tae ten.”

Although Claire nodded in agreement at what her husband was saying for that was exactly what had happened to her. As he spoke, she was momentarily distracted with thoughts of what had happened in Cranesmuir at the Witch Trial when she was tried and convicted of witchcraft.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

People’s superstitions of anything they didn’t quite understand, especially a person like her was met with fear for they thought her a witch. At the trial, the crowd was baying for blood and wanted to burn her at the stake, and had Jamie not rescued her, that would have been her fate. Nonetheless, he was a little skeptical as well because he’d seen the “devil’s mark” on her arm too. He had calmly asked if she was a witch, because what she had told him was far-fetched. His face throughout her admission was inscrutable and he’d sighed, then smiled ruefully down at her. She remembered their conversation well,

“Claire, are ye a witch?”

“I’m not a witch. Do you really believe me, Jamie?”

“Aye, I believe ye, Sassenach. But it would ha’ been a good deal easier if you’d only been a witch.”

“And if I were? If you had thought I were a witch? Would you still have fought for me?”

“I would have gone to the stake with you, and to hell beyond, if I must!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Claire? … Claire?” Jamie said a little louder as she had been quiet for so long that he was a little concerned for where her mind must have gone, but on reflection it was probably to the Witch Trial when he’d rescued her and she had told him she was from the future.

“Oh, I’m sorry Jamie, I lost my train of thought there for a moment.”

“Nae matter … So, mo chridhe, ye were saying?”

Claire let her husband’s endearment wash over her. Jamie was always so attuned to her feelings and giving him a tentative smile, continued to explain about the Addams family members. “Their mother and uncle lived with them and their children, plus they had a 7-foot-tall butler … their man servant called Lurch, and a disembodied hand that lived in a box called Thing.”

Jamie shook his head, as what Claire was saying was becoming more fanciful, but he kept an open mind as she described more.

“The husband, Gomez Addams was an extremely wealthy man and was able to indulge his wife Morticia's every desire, whether it was cultivation of poisonous plants or a candlelit dinner in a graveyard.”

He raised his eyebrow again at this piece of information. “That sounds verra interesting,” he murmured somewhat amazed.

Claire smiled indulgently at her love. “You are very much like him. He was very romantic and he was madly in love with his wife and loved her to distraction.”

“As do I you, mo ghràidh,” before adding, “I think I should like this Gomez fellow.”

She beamed at him once more as Jamie seemed pleased as punch at what he had just said.

He then blessed himself. “A Dhia! But … I willna have dinner wi’ ye in a graveyard, mo luaidh even wi’ candlelight,” he muttered under his breath. He chuckled at the thought of that idea, especially after having just told her the story of the tannasg who had come out of his tomb. No, he could not come at doing that.

“I agree. I don’t think I would like to do that either, but Gomez and Morticia did. They also had pet names for each other, Jamie.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

His ears pricked up once more when she said this, knowing that his Claire had several endearing names that he called her. He sighed his voice a little raspy, “Aye, I do that too Sassenach.”

Her smile was soft and dreamy for the loving man she had married, then she told him some extra information. “Despite what I have just said, this television show was very entertaining and so amusing. It had unconventional humour, sex appeal, the breaking and questioning of the conventions of conformity at the time, as well as looking at the world in a unique, offbeat frame of mind.”

“Well then, tell me more mo muirninn. I am an educated man as ye ken, and I can see that perhaps these Addams people were different but nae different from our family. Do they have something tae do wi’ Halloween then?”

“Oh indeed. Halloween was their favourite time of the year and they would bob for crabs instead of apples as most people would do. You see, they were not a conventional family. They dressed differently to everyone else, they were weird looking and they had peculiar idiosyncrasies. They even lived near a cemetery at 0001 Cemetery Lane in an ornate, gloomy mansion.”

Jamie poured himself a whisky this time and laughed as her descriptions of this family were getting more and more unusual. He refilled Claire’s cup as well and handed it to her, then sat back in his chair to hear more.

“Oh, Jamie I wish that you could have seen it. You would have loved all the characters but particularly Gomez Addams. Bree and I would laugh so much. They were so funny.”

Claire paused a little as if thinking about something she remembered then looking at her husband with a mischievous expression on her face asked, “Jamie? Can you click your fingers? Like this?” She then demonstrated a click! click! sound.

“I may not be able tae wink, but I can click my fingers ye ken Sassenach.”

She began to set the scene for her tale of the Addams Family. “Well then … Every time I say … da-da-da-da … you click your fingers okay?”

“Okay, I can do that mo nighean donn.”

“I will sing you the theme song that would play when the television show came on screen but I’m going to replace their family name with ours, however, … the da-da-da-da was really played on a harpsichord, but I’m going to improvise.”

Claire grinned at her love and saw that Jamie was prepared and a little excited to know more of the Halloween tale she was about to unleash on him. “Are ye ready?”

“Always.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!

“Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da” … click! click

Claire repeated the chorus … as Jamie was thoroughly enjoying himself while getting into the swing of things with gusto.

“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!

“Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da” … click! click

“They're creepy and they're kooky. Mysterious and spooky. They're altogether together ookey. The Fraser Family.

The house is a museum. When people come to see 'em. They really are a scre-am. The Fraser Family.

“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!

Neat

“Da-da-da-da” … click! click!

Sweet

“Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da, Da-da-da-da” … click! click

Petite

So, get a witch's shawl on. A broomstick you can crawl on. We're going to pay a call on. The Fraser Family.

They both fell back against their chairs laughing out loud as Claire finished the theme song and Jamie clicked the refrain part with enthusiasm.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I see what ye meant earlier Sassenach, so, tell me more about the husband Gomez and his wife Morticia.”

“Gomez was the patriarch of the family, just like you Jamie. He was a very dashing man who loved to wear pinstriped suits.”

She saw his puzzled look and explained. “Clothing was very different in the 60’s to what it is now, but he was as dashing as you were in Paris. Suits are a two-piece garment, long breeks and a jacket cut to the hip, made from the same material and worn together. Gomez Addams smoked cigars and had a very quirky moustache. I’ll ask Brianna to draw you some pictures of the family if you like.”

Jamie nodded in reply to her statement for he loved the drawings Brianna did, and although he could picture them in his imagination, seeing a picture of the family would make them really come to life.

Claire knew that her husband would relish this next piece of information. “He adored Morticia and would call her Cara Mia, Querida, Querida Mia, Tish, or Cara Bella.”

“Hmmph? … Querida is Spanish for "the woman I desire.” I can relate tae that Sassenach,” Jamie replied with a sharp look that made her heart skip a little beat. “I see now why ye think we are alike,” he proclaimed with a penetrating gleam in his eye. “And his wife?”

“She was very beautiful with long flowing, straight, raven coloured hair. Morticia was described as a witch; she was slim, with extremely pale skin.”

“A witch ye say? … a Dhia Claire! … It’s just like people called you because of yer healing powers. I am seeing more parallels here … Querida,” he added in that sexy voice that always thrilled her.

Claire nearly lost her train of thought when her husband called her Querida and she bit her lip in response to the endearment once more. “Stop interrupting me James Fraser, I’m trying to tell you my Halloween story.”

“Duilich … Sorry Sassenach, but I am just imagining the things ye are saying just like you saw on the … television. Tell me more about this Morticia Addams.”

“Her black dress matched her hair and it was skin tight and figure hugging with a fringe of octopus-like cloth "tentacles" at the lower hem that pooled around her feet.”

“That’s quite an outfit you have on there lady?” one of the robbers said to her Jamie.

“I always wear this for Halloween.”

“Looks great. Real good for Halloween,” he replied thinking that she was wearing a costume but it was her actual clothing.

“Is that so? Anything else …Tish?” Jamie grinned cheekily doing a mental checklist of the romantic names Gomez had called his wife.

“Morticia could easily excite her husband by speaking French and other languages. Her pet names for him were Bubula, Mon Cherie and Querido.”

“Ah, Querido, the Spanish word for "the man I desire." I like that too Claire. Ye can call me that at any time my … Cara Mia.”

She blushed a little more at another one of Morticia’s pet names her husband had called her and felt a hot flush warm her cheeks.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So, Sassenach tell me about the Halloween story ye and Brianna loved watching on yer television about the Addams Family.”

“Well Gomez received a new carving knife in the mail and used it to carve out a pumpkin with the face of his Uncle Fester on it for Halloween. They would put a candle in it to light it up at night and the face would shine through the holes in the Jack-o-lantern. This is very common in the future and people in Boston would put their carved pumpkins on their doorsteps at Halloween. It was a fun thing to do and they would also decorate their houses with ghoulish things.”

“‘Tis similar to Samhain too Claire but people use turnips. I guess a pumpkin would be easier tae carve though,” he proclaimed. “Tell me more.”

“Their children, Wednesday and Pugsley, dressed up and went trick or treating with their Grandmama for sweets and treats that they would collect from their neighbours. While they were out two robbers who were escaping from the police … took refuge in the Addams family garden. Thinking they were their Halloween guests, they were invited inside for a Halloween party but unfortunately, they tried to steal money from the family instead of enjoying their hospitality. When they saw inside their spooky house they exclaimed,

“You folks sure don’t hold back on Halloween.”

“It’s our favourite holiday.”

Then Gomez said, “Gentlemen come here and I’ll give you a treat. Open your bag. They didn’t want to show him what was in there because it had the stolen money in it.”

“What happened next Claire?” Jamie asked thinking this story of the future was a little bizarre but extremely interested in her Halloween story of a show she had watched on television.

“Now, now, there’s nothing to be scared of, I think it’s kind of heart-warming that adults get into the Halloween spirit, and when Gomez opened their bag, he found it was full of money, and he assumed that their neighbours had given them cash for a Trick or Treat. He took out several hundreds of dollars from an open drawer and gave it to them. The robbers’ eyes widened with surprise and decided to hatch a plan to steal all the money and their valuables from them.”

“Did the Addams’ ken they were planning tae steal their valuables?”

“No, they were in the kitchen getting refreshments, and whilst Morticia was stirring the punch, her husband Gomez became quite amorous towards her.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This story now was just getting more fascinating for James Fraser by the minute. He smiled at his Claire and asked a little provocatively, “Tell me more Sassenach. What did he do … in the kitchen?”

She was a little tongue tired especially with the way the man she desired was looking at her, but she ventured on regardless to how her insides were all fluttering with tingling feelings that she felt to the very core of her being. When Jamie was in this amorous mood, she was putty in his hands. How was she ever going to tell him what happened next, she thought, but she did.

“When Morticia called him “Bubula … darling” … he took her hand in both of his and kissed it before caressing each finger with his lips beginning at the little pinkie, then the ring finger, and then each other finger after that, until her whole hand had been caressed. It was something he always did.”

Jamie’s eyes were smouldering. “How did she react tae that ... Querida?” he murmured with a little raspy grunt.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “Morticia swooned at the attention her husband was giving her and replied … When we are together darling, every night is Halloween.”

Claire was starting to swoon a little herself. She was feeling a little hot and bothered, and bit her lip as Jamie’s gaze washed over her with intent, but she continued with her story. Her husband knew exactly what he was doing with the way he was looking at her, and he couldn’t be more interested in what would Gomez Addams do next. Jamie hung on each word that came out of her mouth.

“Go on … Sass-en-ach.”

Her mouth was getting a little dry, so Claire took a wee sip of her whisky to also compose herself before she went on with her tale.

“Then while his arm was around her waist, and holding out her arm, Gomez slowly ran his lips up the length of it, kissing across the back of her neck … her shoulder, then down her back and …”

“Aye? And … then what?”

“The punch exploded!”

Jamie couldn’t help himself. He was not expecting Claire to say that, and doubling over in mirth, he burst out laughing as too did she. The happy, raucous sound echoed in his throat and their combined laughter loudly resonated in the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

However, James Fraser suddenly stopped laughing.

Looking up, Claire saw the explicit intent in her husband’s eyes that always made her catch her breath. She watched; eyes fixated on her virile man as he rose from his chair and made his way over to where she was sitting. Jamie was now standing in front of her chair. He reached out his hand towards her, then placing her hand in his grasp, he slowly pulled Claire up and out of the chair until she was but a hair’s breath away from him. She could feel the solidness of her husband’s chest.

“So, mo nighean donn, what happened tae the robbers?”

“I … ahh, … I … don’t re-member,” she mumbled, tripping over her words as Jamie’s penetrating gaze held her eyes captive with a look that had her feeling quite breathless.

Claire could feel the warmth of his breath as her love quietly spoke seductively against her lips. “I see … Well then ... What were ye sayin’ about what Gomez Addams was doing tae his wife … Sass-en-ach?”

Lost in the suggestive look that Jamie was bestowing on her, Claire Fraser found it difficult to breathe let alone speak as she felt the gentle but scorching touch of lips brushing against her own.

“Ahhh … Ahhh …” she murmured incoherently. “He kissed … her hand.”

“What? … Like this?”

Placing his arm around Claire’s waist, Jamie held out her right arm and proceed to place warm, fervent kisses to the top of her hand before trailing them down to her little pinkie finger.

“Ye-yes…” she purred closing her eyes in the bliss of his seduction.

Soft, warm lips lathed the small digit before continuing on to her ring finger. His lips started at the tip of her fingernail drawing it into his mouth before releasing her finger. His tongue then skimmed up and over her knuckle to where his wedding ring, a silver band with a small thistle bloom carved in the centre of each intertwined Highland pattern, lay nestled against her skin. Jamie’s lips hovered over the ring, stopping as his eyes observed his token of love on his Sassenach's finger. Jamie hesitated for a moment, then bent his head over it, his lips barely brushing over her knuckles once more before they touched the silver ring and stopped there for one moment of remembrance.

At the same time, suddenly Claire’s thoughts returned to that day in the hospital recalling when Frank had tried to twist it off her finger and the panic that she’d felt. The guttural sound she’d made was heart wrenching and she’d jerked her hand away and cradled it, fisted, beneath her breast cupped in her left hand.

“I never took it off … mon Cherie,” she whispered, the love in her voice caressing Jamie’s ears as much as his lips had caressed her hand.

This ring was special to her and she had never taken it off even over the twenty years they had been parted. During those long, aching years of separation, it was one of her very, very few tangible reminders of Jamie. The Latin phrase that he’d engraved inside her wedding ring was a brief quotation from a love song by Catullus, and she had recited it so many, many times just thinking of her love when she closed her eyes at night.

Jamie’s lips found and touched the silver ring once more before his tongue slid from one side of the ring to the other. His ring which she wore on this finger since the day they had wed was special to him. It was his ultimate love token to the woman who had stolen his heart from the very moment he had laid eyes on her at Samhain time. This ring spoke to him and was a reaffirmation of how solid was their love and how strong their bond was.

Her eyes were closed, and Claire knew without looking, that Jamie’s were, as well.

“Da Mi Basia Mille, diende centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum …” he murmured, smiling before opening his eyes to stare piercingly at his love as he translated the Latin. “Then let amorous kisses dwell on our lips, begin and tell, a thousand and a hundred score, a hundred …”

Claire’s eyes blurred with tears. Placing her hand at the nape of Jamie’s neck, she fisted it in his glorious red hair, slowly twisting the curls between her fingers. "Dein mille altera … then give me a thousand more,” she uttered breathlessly clearing her throat.

He brushed away the tear that had trickled down her cheek with his finger, but two more welled up and overflowed; she felt them, full and round, roll down her cheeks.

This poignant romantic moment of remembrance between them was suddenly so overwhelming, that she felt her eyes well up once again. The reality of the power of their love and connection made the fictional one between Gomez Addams and his wife Morticia pale in comparison. Perhaps the show she had watched when back in the future was a reminder to her of who she missed terribly and how much she missed so achingly the sensuous kisses that her beloved husband had given her. Suddenly, she was overcome with emotion as Jamie continued to display his amorous kisses to her hand.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

However, he soon sensed that his Claire was feeling wistful.

“Cl-aire?” Jamie’s voice was gentle and his utterance of her name, spoken in tenderness, nearly made her break down again.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Are ye okay mo ghràidh? What’s the matter? Am I not doin’ this right, like Gomez Addams?”

“Oh, Jamie, … You are doing this … so much better … than he ever could my love.”

Slowly he drew her close to him, taking both hands and holding their linked fingers just under his breast to where Claire could feel his heart beating in his chest. Jamie held his love close for a quiet moment and kissed the top of her head as it lay nestled against him. Placing his finger under her chin, he lifted Claire’s face up to his, then cupping her beautiful cheeks with exquisite gentleness, he set his mouth on hers.

“I like yer Halloween story verra much mo ghràidh, in fact I like it sae much that I think we could … continue it in our bedroom. What say ye … Querida Mia?” … He kissed his wife’s cheek … “Cara Bella,” … and then her other special name … “Sor-cha,” … Jamie muttered against Claire’s lips before trailing them down her throat in an assault that had her losing consciousness in his arms.

“Per-haps … we … could …” was her garbled reply spoken against his hot mouth as she wound her arms around her husband’s neck. Her eyes glazed over with emotion for this wonderful man as she succumbed to the sweet surrender of his embrace. Jamie’s eyes too were shining with passion as he lifted Claire up into his arms and carried his love into their bedroom.

“This has been a verra good night Sassenach and one I think could be repeated each Samhain.”

“I approve … Querido,” she murmured seductively against his ear and cupping his cheek with her hand.

Touching foreheads, Jamie’s lips hovered over hers and he smiled with such a wicked look that Claire couldn’t help but smile too knowing that whatever came out of her husband’s mouth would be something profound. However, she was not expecting his reply with the phrase Morticia Addams had spoken on the television program.

“When we are together darling … every night is Halloween. Now, I want to take ye to bed, and I mean to spend the rest of the night thinking what to do to ye once I’ve got ye there.”

Then James Fraser proceeded to demonstrate the many ways that this Fraser husband showed his wife how he would seduce her every night … but twice on Samhain and Halloween.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The End

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Addams Family Theme - Vic Mizzy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZ5IWRz78DY

Halloween with the Addams family (full episode)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LavY2K3-Vhs

Endearment Translations:

Claire Fraser

mo chridhe - my heart

mo muirninn - my darling

mo luaidh - my darling, my dear.

a leannan - sweetheart, or beautiful woman

Sorcha – brightness

mo ghràidh – darling

mo nighean donn - my brown-haired lass

Morticia Addams

Cara Mia - my beloved

Cara Bella – pretty face

Querida - the woman I desire.

Querida Mia – beloved

Tish – strong willed

Gomez Addams

Bubula – sweetheart

Mon Cherie - dear heart, my dear love.

Querido - dear

#samhain #halloween #James Fraser #clairefraser #the addams family #2020 #the lallybroch library #outlander fanfic

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nightashes · 5 years

Text

We’re Monsters. Isn’t It Fun? - Chapter 1

Masterlist - Next

A/N: This is for @stop-it-anxiety ‘s Fall Fic Contest. Prompt used was “Monster”. Figured October 1st would be the perfect time to post this!

Warnings: Spooky dark stuff in like an Addam’s Family the movies type way.

Summary: The dark sides love the scary things in life. They thrill in scaring each other. Deceit raised his kid sides, Remus and Virgil, to be proud of this. And then they met the light sides...

***

His prey in sight, he crept along. Crouched close to the ground. His lips pulled back in a snarl as he prepared to pounce. Launching onto the sitting figure, he roared loudly, “Be afraid! Be very Afraid!”

“Oh no! You got me!” Deceit dramatically bemoaned as he fell backwards onto the couch. Virgil landed softly on his chest, doing his best scary face as he hissed at his victim. Dee chuckled, smirking up at his son with fondness in his eyes. “Truly a terrifying monster.”

Virgil smiled triumphantly, “I scared you, Dad!”

A sound of rushing footsteps is heard as another figure sped wildly into the room. “Monster! Where’s a monster?” Remus shouted excitedly. He ran around the living room, looking for the fearsome beast.

Virgil stood up on top of Dee, causing the parental side to groan in pain. “I’m the monster! I’m the scariest thing in the mind palace!” He threw his hands into the air, causing lightning to flash behind him. “Hahahaha.” He attempted to top it off with his best impersonation of an evil laugh, which in reality was just a slightly deeper version of his normal laugh.

Dee scooped his son up, standing with a yell. “I’ve caught you!”

Remus ran to grab onto Dee’s legs, “I’m a monster too! Let my brother go, you hideous knight! Together we’ll roast you up and eat your entrails!” Remus attempted to gnaw on Deceit’s legs.

“Augh!” Deceit feigned pain. “You’ve killed me.” He collapsed to the ground still holding Virgil close to his chest. “What am I to do against two vicious beasts such as yourselves.”

“We won!” Remus shrieked happily. Virgil was clinging to Dee’s caplet after falling to the ground with him.

Remus grabbed onto Virgil’s arm. “Come on, V! Let’s go into the imagination and kill some knights!”

“I just want to scare them.” He mumbled as he crawled off of Deceit, following Remus out of the living room.

“Remus. Virgil. I know you two aren’t planning to go into the imagination without your weapons. Are you?”

“I got ‘em, Dad.” Remus whined. “It’s no fun without them.”

“We’ll be safe, Dad!” Virgil grinned happily.

Deceit eyed them skeptically. “I totally trust you brats. And I know that you guys are going to stay in the Dark Forest. Because if you don’t the light sides will find you, and make you take a bath.” He pointed at Remus, who shuddered at the thought. “And sing cherry songs.” He sneered at Virgil’s horror stricken face.

“Noooo!!” Remus cried loudly and ran off to his room.

Virgil jumped and scrambled after him. “Wait for me!”

Deceit laughed maniacally as he watched his kids scramble off towards the imagination.

***

“Mary, Mary, Quite contrary.

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells, and cockle shells,

And pretty maids all in a row.”

Remus swung his morning star in wide overarching circles singing loudly about bloody mary as Virgil crouched above him, watching from his perch in a tree. His grin was creeping ever wider as he eyed his brother, readying a leap of attack when…

“Are you sure about this, Roman?”

His ears perked up at the strange voice. “Remus, quiet!” He hissed out.

Remus cut off his singing, cocking an eyebrow up at his brother. “What’s up?”

“There’s people. They’re in our forest!” Virgil held tightly onto the tree as he leaned towards the direction of sound. His sharp hearing picked up another voice.

“It’s fine, Patt. I got a sword. Anything comes close and wham, bam!”

“Let’s kill ‘em.” Remus happily bounced below him.

Virgil nodded in thought. “We gotta scare ‘em off before Dad finds out.”

Virgil swung down from the tree landing softly beside his brother. And together the two dark sides ran through the forest, Virgil leading the way as they headed towards the sound of the intruders. Bounding past the shadowy inhabitants of the woods. Running past trees covered in cobwebs, caves with echoes that sounded eerily like wailing, and a stream that ran bright red.

The brothers slowed down as the strangers’ voices became clearer. They crouched down side by side, hidden behind bushes watching their prey enter their field of vision.

“They look like us.” Virgil whispered into Remus’ ear.

‘Light sides.’ Remus mouthed back. His eyes blown wide.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at the trespassers. How dare the light sides come into their domain. Nobody was going to make him sing happy songs. Although, perhaps Remus could use a bath.

Virgil gestured to Remus to go around. The foul side nodded knowingly and slunk away, keeping low to the ground. Virgil eyed the apparent light sides as he waited for Remus to get into position. There were two of them and they seemed to be the same age as Remus and Virgil. One dressed like a prince, how nice, was haphazardly brandishing a katana. The other must have been terrified already. He was jumping at every noise, wringing his hands and biting his lip as he spoke to his companion.

“Dad says we shouldn’t be here, Roman. Can’t we please go back. I’m scared,” He was visibly shaking.

“That’s silly! I am here so you have nothing to fear! We’re gonna defeat the evil of this forest and return as heroes!” This Roman stood proudly, his sword thrust high into the air. Virgil was confused. Heroes were the ones the monsters defeated. Why did he want to be a hero? It was much more fun to be a monster.

The leaves rustled in front of the pair. “Careful, Patton, it might be a scary monster.”

The signal. Remus was in position. Virgil launched himself into the open, he tackled the scared one, growling down at his face. “ScArY LiKe tHiS!” Virgil shouted. His voice doubling deeper and darker than it had ever gone before. Remus in the same instance came launching into view, swinging his morningstar straight at Roman’s face. The light side managed to duck away. Remus used his own demonic voice to screech at the top of his lungs. His eyes glowing red and the light bending around him.

“LeAvE nOw oR DIE. yOu’Re iN ThE pReSeNcE oF tHe DEMENTED.” Remus shrieked as he swung his morning star. Roman attempted to block it with his sword, but the morning star merely knocked it out of his hands.

Virgil was giddy. Remus had fantastic control over his voice and now Virgil was gaining his own. He smiled down at his prey, ready to boast of his achievement. But Patton was crying. Tears were streaming down his face as he looked at Virgil in utter terror. And suddenly, being scary seemed wrong. Bile rose in his throat. What had he done? He had made the light side cry? Being scary was fun but... this wasn’t fun. This was terrible. Scrambling off of Patton, and putting distance between them. He sat there on the ground, his mouth agape in silent apologies. Remus paused his rampage to watch in confusion.

“Virgil?” Remus spoke softly. His voice having returned to normal.

“I scared him.”

“Yeah. That’s what we do. Scaring is fun.”

“FUN!” Roman interrupted. Panting from his attempts to dodge Remus’ attacks. “You think this is fun? You guys are mean!” Roman’s previous bravito abandoned. His hands trembled, his body curled in on himself. “You guys are monsters!”

Patton sat up and Roman ran to hug him close. Patton said nothing. But his eyes remained locked on Virgil. And then the dam broke and he cried out. “Daddy!!” Roman buried his face into Patton’s shoulder and they hugged each other close. Remus came over to stand beside Virgil.

“I don’t get it. What did we do wrong?” He asked him. Virgil said nothing. Only silently stood beside his brother. Remus wrapped his arm around him. Trying his best to comfort his brother, despite not knowing the cause of his distress.

“Patton! Roman!” A voice shouted through the woods. Running footsteps thudded against the forest floor as a sprinting figure rushed towards the shaken group.

“Daddy!” Patton cried again. Roman looked hopeful as he watched the man come into view.

Remus grimaced. “Another intruder.”

The figure, another side, hesitated for only a second before crouching down by the crying light sides and wrapping them in his arms. “Shhh.. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Virgil shifted on his feet self-consciously. An adult light side. They were in real trouble now.

The man looked over at the two hesitant brothers. His gaze was like ice. “What happened here?”

“They scared us.” Patton cries.

“That monster tried to kill me, Dad!” Roman bellowed pointing at Remus.

“I’ll handle it.” The man spoke with care. Standing, he loomed over the child dark sides. His eyes locked onto Remus.

“Your weapon, now.” The man held out his hand.

“NO! Dad says we can’t be in the dark forest without ‘em.” Remus defended, gripping tight onto his beloved morning star.

“And where is Deceit? I would like to talk with him about your behavior today.” His voice rang with authority.

“We didn’t do anything! They’re just being babies.” Remus complained.

The man was not impressed. He peered down at them through his black spectacles. “You terrified them. You made Roman think you were going to kill him. I know you dark sides have a warped sense of fun, but when you torment my children that is crossing a line. A line you do not come back from. If you ever bother my children again… You will have to answer to me.”

“Dark sides?” Roman whispered, pulling back in shock.

“This is unfair! You are the ones that came into our forest!” Remus was growing increasingly agitated. He must really hate this new side. Virgil wasn’t particularly fond of him either. He was making him feel wrong. Was it bad to be a dark side?

“That is not a valid excuse for terror-”

“Daddy! I want to go home!” Patton broke through the shouting.

The light side straightened his shoulders. “I will be escorting my charges back now. I expect you two to return to your own commons. And I will be calling Deceit about your behavior here today.”

Virgil and Remus watched the light sides leave their forest. Remus shouting at their retreating backs to “Stay out of our forest!”

Virgil only turned away. Trudging back through the Dark Forest and towards Remus’s door.

Arriving home, Remus ran to the commons, excited to tell Dee all about their adventures. Virgil followed slowly behind only to stop short upon seeing Dee yelling into the phone. “Well. the brats shouldn’t have been in dark side territory… No! If they don’t want to be scared than they shouldn’t have been idiotic enough to go monster hunting in the Dark Forest!”

Monster hunting? Virgil thought. These light sides really thought that way about monsters.

“Oh please! You know we can’t get hurt. Let alone die!... It’s not my fault Roman doesn’t know that!” Dee was continuing. Remus shuffled up to his dad. Staring up at the man with a grin, bouncing on his toes as he waited for Deceit to be done.

Virgil didn’t want to wait. He just wanted to be alone. He sunk down to his room and landed softly onto his bed. Virgil grabbed his blanket and rolled across his mattress, enveloping his small form in a blanket burrito. Ending face down, he sighed into his pillow. What happened back there?

Deceit had always taught them to be proud of being a dark side. He read them spooky stories and was delighted when they played monster. It was always so much fun being a monster. But now, Virgil just felt sad. He didn’t know if he wanted to be a dark side anymore. He didn’t want to be bad. And the light sides were terrified of him. Did that make him bad?

He shifted to his side and curled his legs up to his chest. He closed his eyes to the world. Virgil had always been scary but he didn’t want to be bad. Was scary bad?

***

A soft knock awoke Virgil. He blinked tiredly, glancing around his room. When had he fallen asleep?

“Virgil.” Deceit’s voice called through the door.

“Dad?”

Deceit slipped into the room. Spying Virgil curled up on his bed, the fatherly side made his way over to sit beside him. Settling in place, Deceit sighed as he looked down at the young anxious side. He reached over and gently brushed Virgil’s hair back from his forehead. “How you doing, Spider?”

Virgil tucked his chin down, looking away from Deceit in answer.

“I’m sorry they yelled at you, bud.”

Virgil studied the stitch in his blanket.

“Remus told me your voice warped. That’s truly horrid news.” Deceit’s smile was evident in his words. But it only made Virgil angry.

“Horrid is bad, Dad! And not fun bad. It’s bad bad.” He huffed.

His father’s eyebrows knit together. “Did the light sides say that? Did they say you were bad?”

“They said we were mean. They said we were scary and Patton cried. We’re monsters. Monsters a- are ba-ad.” Virgil whispered into the dark of his room. His words choking at the end. He bit his lips and willed the tears not to come. He didn’t want to cry.

“Now that’s a blatant lie and I should know. There are plenty of good monsters. I know you know this. Just look at the Yeti. And what about Arabella?” Deceit spoke, pointing to Virgil’s pet spider nestled happily in her terrarium.

“What about her?”

“Well, spiders scare a lot of people because they look different. But that doesn’t make them bad does it?”

“No… Arabella is a good spider.”

“And you are a good side. If you ever doubt that I want you to think about Arabella and then I want you to come find me. I’ll always be there for you, my spider.”

#janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #sympathetic dark sides #mama bear logan #mama bear deceit #dad!logan #dad!deceit #ts fanfic #fanfic #my writing #sanders sides fic

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ccatvalentine · 3 years

Text

murder house | pilot

introduction

Season 1 - Murder House

Episode 1 - Pilot

word count: 2,438

1978

Far above , the branches twisted like distorted limbs reaching out. The forboding tree reaching out towards you. The open gates, showcasing a gnarled, old looking- house and a young girl standing on the front lawn

CRASH! A sound crashes as someone throws a rock at the window of an abandoned house and shatters it.

Bryan jokes “Hey, Troy. You're a dork.”

“Hey, shut up. Hey, freak.” Troy insults.

On Bryan’s way to the front door, Bryan blows some kisses at Addie who stares back at him, keeping a straight face.

“Excuse me. You are going to die in there.” the mysterious girl warns.

“Shut your mouth, or we're gonna kick your ass!” Troy says,angry at the girl.

Bryan “We got bats.”

Troy moans “I hate trees!”

As they enter the house, Addie chants “You're gonna regret it. You're gonna regret it. You're gonna regret it.”

Troy “Yeah!”

Bryan “Yeah!”

The boys smash everything inside of the house with their bats.

“Troy” Bryan says he looks at the door.

“Awesome, go,” Troy forced.

“No, you go, shithead.” Bryan says, not wanting to go first.

The boys go down the stairs, not knowing the dangers that they are about to face.

“Check it out." Troy pushed.

They find a room full of jars filled with human's and animal's parts. Troy picks up a jar containing an ear and drops it. As a result, it shatters onto the ground.

“It stinks in here. It stinks like shit. You remember last summer when we get the raccoon stuck in our chimney? That's what it smells like. Let's go find it.” Troy says, disgusted.

“No, it smells bad... I'm getting out of here.” Bryan says.

Troy goes further into the room, poping his crackers, while Bryan turns around, up the stairs. Suddenly, the popping stops. Bryan stops his ascension.

"Troy? " Bryan questions.

(A bottle rolls across floor)

"Troy? Who's down there? Cut it out, Troy. Cut it out." Bryan asks again, scared.

Bryan finds Troy on the ground, his throat slashed while Troy is reaching out to him, unable to utter anything. Suddenly, Bryan turns around and sees a terrifying creature called the infantata, running in their direction.

As a result, Bryan starts screaming bloody murder as Addy simply stars back at the house.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

18th July 2011

Ugh this is soooo boring, I don't know why my parents aren't divorced already, whatever, it's not like I care.

"Mommmm are we there yet?" I complain.

" We'll be there soon honey. " mom says looking at me from the mirror thing.

Vivien : The light is different out here. It's softer.

Violet : It's called smog.

Ben : You should be excited, Vi. You can stop sneaking cigarettes and just start taking deep breaths.

Violet : I need to go to the bathroom.

Ben : We're almost there.

Violet : I need to go.

Ben : Vi, it's a freeway. Really, where do you want me to pull over? Maybe the Honda next to us has a bathroom or something.

Violet : Bet if the baby had to piss , you'd find somewhere.

"Hey! Don't call me a baby!" I pouted.

Vivien : Really? Violet, I hate that word, unless I'm saying it.

Ben : I'm really glad we named you Violet, instead of our second choice. Same with you Eve.

Violet : Which was?

Vivien : Sunshine.

"lol, cringe." Violet shoots me a ' wtf' look.

Ben : It's funny. Come on, you gotta admit it's funny.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Currently, we’re at the front of our brand new house and dad is ringing the doorbell.

Ben : I love it. Don't you love it, hon? I mean, it looks even better than it did online.

Vivien : Yeah, it's interesting.

“How about you Evelyn?” Dad asks me.

“I think it’s cool and superrr creepy. :) it’s totally haunted!” I beam while Violet keeps on thinking, ‘why does my sister have to be so creepy?’

Violet : Great. So we're the Addams Family now.

Ben : Hey, crabby pants. Come here.

Vivien : What are you doing?

Ben : Isn't this place amazing?

Suddenly, I see an old looking lady open the door.

Marcy : Welcome. It's a classic L.A. Victorian. Built around 1920 by the doctor to the stars at the time. It's just fabulous. These are real Tiffany fixtures. As you can see, the previous owners really loved this place like a child. They restored everything.

‘Tiffany, in that super cool famous store I see big celebrities like Lady Gaga buy and wear???!’ I think, amazed.

Vivian: Gay?

Marcy : What do you think?

Ben : Tiffany. Wow.

Marcy : Do you cook?

Ben : Viv is a great cook. I got her cooking lessons a few years ago, and she ended up teaching the teacher a few things.

Marcy : Cooking lessons... romantic. Aren't you a psychologist?

Ben : Psychiatrist. You said something on the phone about there being a study that I could use as a home office? I'm planning on seeing patients here, so I can spend more time with the family.

‘That’s kinda cool I guess : I wont have to deal with seeing the patients every day. Privacy, at last.’ I smile, happy at the idea.

Marcy : How refreshing.

(Vivien puts her dog down, and it goes running outside the kitchen, yapping)

Vivien : Violet, honey, would you go see where Hayley we-nt? Oh, never mind. Eve, try not to trip sweetheart!

“Hey fluffy, what’s wrong?” her eyes widen (she just came up with this) “I know! It’s ghost... spooky. 😃” Whoever the ghost was, decided to prank her by tapping her on the head lightly. “ Aaahhhh!!!” she screamed while running into her mothers chest while her mother was confused. Nevertheless, she’s pulled her daughter into a hug. “Mom! This shits haunted, so cool!”

Violet was used to this, username to her sister being obsessed and fascinated with scary things. Violet signed and went up to the dog,” What are you yapping at?”

That was soooo epic! Finally, I get to feel a ghost!!😊😃😀 im watching as the loser attempts to open a random creepy door, oh she’s done it, finalllly. I see her go in a bit and peek inside while she goes down the stairs. it's dark and creepy but whatever cool I guess.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

I was walking back to the living room?? area.

Vivien : This wallpaper is peeling over here. Looks like maybe there's a mural underneath it.

Marcy : The last owners probably covered it up. They were modernists. Speaking of the last owners, full disclosure requires that I tell you about what happened to them.

‘Wait?! something happenedddd???’

Vivien : Oh, God... they didn't die in here or anything, did they?

Marcy : Yes, actually, both of them. Murder-suicide. I sold them the house, too. They were just the sweetest couple. You never know, I guess.

‘omgggggg ghostsss!!!! i called it! 😉’

Ben : That explains why it's half the price of every other house in the neighborhood, I guess.

Marcy : I do have a very nice mid-century ranch, but it's in the Valley, and you're going to get a third of the house for twice the price.

Ben : Right.

Violet : Where did it happen?

Marcy : The basement.

Violet : We'll take it.

‘:) operation find ghosts!’

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Ben: Come on, babe, let's go to bed. Leave that for the morning.

Vivien : I'm a little bit worried about Violet, you know, these kids here are very different. I don't know if she can handle another year of not fitting in. Same with Evelyn, her friends at her old school weren’t a great influence on her.

Ben : You mean... you can't?

Vivien : Can't believe this place doesn't freak you out a little bit. 'Cause of what happened here?

Ben : My repulsion is tempered by the fact that this house is worth four times what we paid for it, so let's not think about it.

Vivien : This is your professional advice, Doctor, just denial?

Ben : Come on, let me give you a little love. Moving here, buying this house was the exact right thing to do for us and our family. It's a good thing and we deserve some good after all the shit we've been through.

Vivien : I've got some stuff I want to... unpack down in the kitchen. I appreciate that you're trying. I'm trying, too.

Ben : Okay.

Vivien : It's just gonna take some time.

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Currently, I’m at the campus of my new middle school. I see a group of bitchy-looking girls out front.

Maria : Hey! Student council passed a rule against blowing bubblegum.

Katy : yeah, you could choke on it.

‘tf okay karen.’

“I'm new, I didn't know, sorry.” i roll my eyes.

Maria : What the hell is wrong with you? People sit here, they eat here.

“You don't know me. Why are you doing this?”

Katy : Maria's grandmother died from choking on gum, she takes this pretty seriously.

Maria : Eat it... eat it or I'm gonna kick the shit out of you.

“No. What?”

Cathy : Come on, , that's enough.

Maria : No, no, no, I want to see her eat it.

“No. No.”

Maria : Eat it, eat it.

Katy : Maria, seriously, she's like 10.

Maria tries to force me to eat the gum, but I take the gum out of my mouth and place it on Maria’s head. Maria screams.

Maria : You are dead! You are dead!

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Currently, I’m peaking, leaning around the corner of my sister’s door.

Tate : This one I did after my dad left. I was ten, I think.

‘Who’s this?’

Violet : Last week, first day at my new school... sucks.

‘Ouch, that looks like it hurts.’

Tate : Westfield, right? The worst. I got thrown out of there.

Violet : I hate it here. I hate everyone. All there bourgeoisy designer bullshit. East Coast was much cooler. I mean, at least we had weather.

Tate : I love it when the leaves change.

Violet : Yeah, me, too.

Tate : Why did you move here?

Violet : My dad had an affair. My mom literally caught him in the act.

‘Yeah, why don’t they divorce then????!!‘ I acidentally slipped as i had been leaning into the door to much. oof

Violet: what are you doing here? wait, were u listening in on our conversation?!

“err, maybe?”

Tate: Who’s this?

“I’m Evelyn, Violet’s better sister, epic ghost hunter😼😎“

Tate smiles lightly, violet says, “whatever, come here.” she puts me on her lap while they carry on their conversatio

Tate : That's horrible. If you love someone, you should never hurt them... never.

Violet : Right? I know. And the worst part is that six months earlier, my mom had, like, this brutal miscarriage. The baby was seven months old, and we had to have this macabre funeral. Have you ever seen a baby coffin?

Tate sits near Violet and gently touches her wrist.

Tate : I'm sorry.

Violet : Why are you seeing my dad?

Tate : Don't ask questions you already know the answer to. You're smarter than that.

Violet : Want to listen to Morrissey? He's cool and he's pissy and he hates everyone and everything.

Tate : Got any Kurt Cobain on that thing?

Ben : What are you doing in here?

I turn my head around and see dad by the door

Violet : Just listening to music, Dad.

Ben : You need to leave, Tate. I'm sorry. He shouldn't be in here, and I think you know that... please.

Tate : What's that thing you think I'm afraid of? Fear of rejection?

Ben : Stay away from him.

Violet : Dad, nothing...

Ben : You heard me!

Tate : No! Bullet, bullet, bullet!

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

im in the kitchen with mom eating some sweets and i see a women and a girl.

Vivien : I want you to stay out of my house. Do you understand?

Constance : Can I smoke in here?

Vivien : No. Adelaide, answer me, please.

Addie : Can I pet your dog?

Vivien : No, Adelaide, I want you to stay out of the house. I want you to stop coming in and opening things up and telling me that I'm going to die.

Ben : She said that?

Constance : She says that to everybody. Say you're sorry, Addie.

Addie : No, they did it.

Vivien : Who did it?

Addie : The twins.

Constance : Shh.

Addie : Can I... pet your dog?

Vivien : No, Adelaide, listen to me. I want you to stop coming in here without permission. Am I clear?’

I wisper to mom, ‘why does she always come in the house, i can hear her a lot.’ mom just shrugs

Ben : Vivien.

Vivien : Am I clear?

Addie : Yes.

Vivien : Thank you.

Constance : Time to go, Addie.

Ben : Hallie!

Vivien : Are you okay?

Addie : She shouldn't have done that.

Constance : Sorry about all this. You touch my kid one more time and I will break your goddamn arm.

‘awkward, now thats a TRUE karen’

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

im at school and this bitch is trying to fucking fight me

Violet : I'm not scared of you!

Maria : Should be!

Kids : Fight, fight, fight!

i spit

Maria: little bitch!

‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵

Vivien : Hey. Whoa. Come here. What happened to your face?

“Fell down.”

Vivien : Come here. Sit, sit, sit. Boy or girl?

“Girls. Three of em.””

Vivien : Hope they look worse than you do. You know their names?

“I'm not narking.”

Vivien : You know, we can easily move you to a different school. There are a lot of really good private schools right in this neighborhood.

“I'm not running away. I'm not scared of them. Not afraid of anything.”

Vivien : It's like that time in kindergarten, when you insisted that I bring you home from the slumber party 'cause all the other girls were sleeping without the nightlight on. I know you've gotten the short end of the stick, lately. This move, and...your dad and I haven't exactly been great to be around.

“Why don't you guys get divorced, if you're so miserable?”

Vivien : We still love each other.

“ You could've fooled me. I thought you hated each other. Well, at least you hated him. I don't blame you. He was a shithead. Sorry.”

Vivien : It's okay. He was a shithead. You know, we got a lot of history. Your dad's been through a lot, I've been through a lot. Guess we need each other. What are you scared of?

“You said I'm not scared of anything, so... what scares you?”

Vivien : Lately? Everything. Life will do that to you.

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