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guzhufuren · 28 days

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A Guide to Some of the Best Queer Asian Shows

The guide includes a show’s basic summary; main genres/tropes/themes and official streaming links (additional info on how to watch at the end of this post)! You can find some content warnings in the reply section of this post. Shows are listed by countries, numbered by the order I recommend watching in, not by rating. All shows have happy endings unless specified otherwise. The list will hopefully be updated regularly (last updated on 04/04/2024, 98 queer shows in total).

Most shows are about mlm, I specify with coloured notes those that are focused on wlw, polyamory, aromantism/asexuality, etc.

Tumblr does not allow large texts or more than 30 images per post at the moment, so you can click on every country’s list to expand them and view them fully in a separate post. You can access this guide in a google doc here.

Thailand 🇹🇭 (full list here)

1. KinnPorsche mafia boss/bodyguard; action; kidnapper/kidnapee side couple

Kinn, a son of a prominent mafia head, is ambushed by an enemy, and meets Porsche, a bartender who comes to his rescue for a price, thus beginning their reluctant relationship as boss and bodyguard, which soon turns into something more.

iQIYI

2. Bed Friend friends with benefits; office setting; trauma

King and Uea work in the same office. After a company outing ends in a drunken hook-up between them, Uea and King agree to keep seeing each other on a strictly physical basis. With no strings attached, will these two be able to keep things between them simple and carefree or will their emotions eventually get the better of them?

Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or GagaOOLala or cut on YouTube

3. The Sign reincarnated lovers; fantasy; thai mythology; police

The story of the love between Phaya and Tharn who used to be mythological creatures Naga and Garuda in their past lives, and were forced apart. But fate intervened, and two men were reincarnated in new bodies. Now, they work together as partners in the Special Investigations Unit to uncover violent crimes and supernatural mysteries while their love is tested by mystical forces and past enemies.

YouTube

4. I Feel You Linger In The Air period drama; time travel; bittersweet

Jom, an architect overseeing the renovation of a rundown villa, continuously dreams of a man he's never met. When a twist of fate transports Jom to Chiang Mai in the 1920s, he assumes the role of a servant to the affluent young master Yai, the mysterious man from his dreams.

GagaOOLala or YouTube

5. You're My Sky sports; university setting; coming of age

Thorn, a young basketball player follows his senior Fah to university as a result of the promise they’d made — to become national basketball champions. However, to his dismay, he finds that Fah has already given up on basketball. --- Aai has to work in pairs throughout the semester with San, 1 year footballer; in order to receive a scholarship to study in Japan, Ai must be willing to do everything to get an A grade. --- Track running requires the compatibility of the team members to be very high. Vee, who became the new racquet 4, has to speed up training to fit in with the team as quickly as possible, especially with Dome, spending extra time together to train. Is love actually a major obstacle on the path of being an athlete?

Viki

> more tv shows from Thailand

GMMTV Thailand 🇹🇭 (full list here)

1. My School President high school setting; secret crush; school president/rebel musician

Gun is the head of his high school music club. Tinn is a school president and Gun's long-term rival. The Principal wants to disband some of the school’s “useless” after-school clubs, especially the music club. Per school rules, the student council president is the one who has the power to dissolve clubs. Gun is now at Tinn’s mercy, so he attempts to do whatever he can to persuade his rival not to cancel the music club. Little does he know, Tinn actually has a secret crush on him. Could romance brew as Gun makes a desperate attempt to secure the future of his band?

Viki (MSP) & YouTube (Our Skyy special 33-40) & YouTube (special)

2. Moonlight Chicken adult romance; age gap; deaf character

Jim is an ordinary guy running a chicken rice diner. One night, he meets Wen when he stays past closing drunk. Brought together by fate that night, intangible feelings arise. Neither can stop thinking about the other despite Jim's efforts to remain unattached. Jim also takes care of his nephew Li Ming, who is falling in love with Heart, a deaf teenager who is practically kept under house arrest by his affluent parents.

YouTube

3. Not Me revolution; freedom fighters; secret twins

When his twin Black is viciously attacked and subsequently left hospitalised in unconsciousness, White is unable to endure the harm done to his brother in silence. He learns Black was a part of a gang of anti-capitalist freedom fighters, and it was one of them who betrayed him. White disguises himself as Black to discover which one of them betrayed him and put him in a coma.

YouTube

4. 23.5 wlw; high school setting; secret admirer

Ongsa moves to a new school and meets Sun, a cute popular girl who she immediately falls for. However, she decides to approach Sun in instagram dms under the pseudonym Earth, leading Sun to believe she's talking to a guy. But Ongsa does not want to lose the opportunity to talk to Sun, so she decides to keep the fact that she is a girl a secret and continue talking as Earth.

YouTube

> more tv shows from GMMTV Thailand

Japan 🇯🇵 (full list here)

1. Cherry Magic! mind reading; secret crush; office setting

By still being a vіrgin at 30, Adachi gains a magical power – the ability to read other people's minds by touching them. At first, he’s overwhelmed by his new ability, and it’s not proving to be helpful to him. But that all changes when he accidentally touches their office’s most perfect guy Kurosawa, who he learns has romantic feelings for him.

WeTV (Cherry Magic) & no international streaming of Cherry Magic The Movie is available to my knowledge, so watch on bilibili or KissKH

2. Kieta Hatsukoi (My Love Mix-Up!) misunderstanding; high school setting

Aoki has a crush on Hashimoto, the girl in the seat next to him in class. But he despairs when he borrows her eraser and sees she's written the name of another boy — Ida — on it. To make matters more confusing, Ida sees Aoki holding that very eraser and thinks Aoki has a crush on him!

Viki

3. Our Dining Table food; child character

Salaryman Yutaka finds it difficult to share meals with other people. However, his life starts to change when one day, his cooking attracts the attention of a young boy named Tane and his older brother Minoru. The two brothers are impressed by Yutaka's cooking skill and invite him to their house to cook together. Yutaka's dreary life begins to change, and soon he finds himself looking forward to the meals he shares with the Ueda siblings together, as well as developing a taste for romantic feelings.

GagaOOLala

4. She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat wlw; neighbours; self-discovery; food

Nomoto loves to cook, but tends to make too much food and has no one to share it with. Luckily for her, turns out her neighbor Kasuga has a big enough appetite for the both of them.

No international streaming available, translated to english by Furritsubs, S1 & S2, watching instructions provided, please support translator on kofi.

5. Takara-kun to Amagi-kun high school setting; relationship exploration

Takara is a good-looking popular guy in class, while Amagi is a simple but bright and pure fellow classmate. The two begin to date in secret after Amagi's blurted out confession.

Viki or GagaOOLala

> more tv shows from Japan

China 🇨🇳 (full list here)

Most chinese shows are adapted from explicitly queer novels, the shows are undeniably and obviously queer, but nevertheless the queer romance part is censured. The only exception is number 4 on the list, it is not censored.

1. The Untamed period drama; fantasy

An epic fantasy led by a problem child who comes back from the dead 16 years later in order to fix the broken world he left behind — and finally unite with his soulmate.

YouTube

2. Word of Honor period drama; fantasy

The leader of assassin organisation Zhou Zishu quits his position in pursuit of freedom with drastic measures. In his travels, he meets Wen Kexing, the leader of Ghost Valley who wants nothing but revenge. The two become entangled in various machinations within the martial arts world, and eventually become soulmates instrumental in each other's redemption.

YouTube & Special Episode on Tumblr or DailyMotion

3. Couple of Mirrors wlw; period drama; socialite/assassin

You Yi is a kind-hearted socialite and a successful author. Her perfect life is turned upside-down when she discovers a betrayal by the two most trusted people in her life. With no one left to turn to, she finds refuge in the friendship and support of Yan Wei, a lonely female killer disguised as the owner of a photo studio.

YouTube. the show doesn’t have a happy ending, but it can be a happy ending for you if you stop watching at episode 12 timestamp 28:02.

4. Stay With Me enemies to lovers; high school setting; unconventional families; slow burn

Su Yu is a high school student who lives with his single poor father. Su Yu gets a new classmate Wu Bi. The two clash right from the start, and after getting off on the wrong foot, their explosive relationship takes a turn.

YouTube or GagaOOLala. the show doesn’t have a happy ending, but it can be a happy ending for you if you stop watching at episode 24 timestamp 05:00. OR watch the full thing and look at this post after

5. The Spirealm inside of a video game; mystery; fantasy; horror-ish; hopeful ending

A game designer Lin Qiushi is transported inside of a game he recently played, and now he must go through 12 horrifying survivor game doors to survive in the real world. Inside his first door he meets Ruan Nanzhu, a mysterious man who offers him to team up.

The show was taken down from streaming, download files here and subtitles here.

Various WLW mini web-dramas here.

Various WLW short films here.

South Korea 🇰🇷 (full list here)

1. Love for Love's Sake inside of a video game; high school setting; healing

At the age of 29 Tae Myungha finds himself transported into a fictional video game, and now 19 years old, he meets Cha Yeowoon, who is in the darkest moment of his life. And a translucent window appears where he receives a mission — to make Cha Yeowoon happy.

iQIYI (better subtitles) or GagaOOLala

2. Semantic Error enemies to lovers; university setting

A serious programmer and a rebellious artist clash over a school project. Their animosity keeps escalating to new extremes, defined by petty pranks and feisty arguments.

Viki

3. Love Tractor farm setting; farmer/city musician

Sunyeol, a city man with zero ability to survive in the countryside, comes to his grandfather's rural home. In front of him appears Yechan, a passionate and kind young farmer. While learning about rural life and assisting with farming tasks, Sunyeol gradually finds himself drawn to Yechan's warm and straightforward nature, while Yechan helplessly falls for Sunyeol.

iQIYI

4. Our Dating Sim high school friends to lovers; office setting

After 7 years, Lee Wan meets his first love, Shin Kitae, in a gaming company. When they were best friends in high school, Lee Wan was in love with Kitae. But he ran away and disappeared after confessing his feelings to Kitae after graduation. When the two of them begin working on a new dating simulation game and get more immersed in the project, old feelings are rekindled.

Viki or GagaOOLala

5. She Makes My Heart Flutter wlw; bar setting; niece and aunt dynamic

The extroverted Gang Seol is hired by her aunt Jung at her only-women bar. Even though they are both lesbians, they seem to be worlds apart and have very different love stories.

YouTube

> more tv shows from South Korea

Taiwan 🇹🇼 (full list here)

1. History3: Trapped mafia boss/policeman

The story of a police officer who becomes trapped in the underworld, as he develops feelings for a gang leader.

YouTube or Viki

2. Kiseki: Dear to Me mafia; age gap

Bai Zongyi, an exemplary high school student with dreams of becoming a doctor, is one day unexpectedly drawn into the world of a charismatic and mischievous gangster Fan Zerui, who blackmails him into taking him in and treating his wounds. Just as their love story begins to unfold, Fan Ze Rui's criminal life catches up with him. On the other hand, Chen Yi and Ai Di are two orphans who grew up in the gang together. Ai Di has always loved Chen Yi, but Chen Yi only notices their boss.

Viki or GagaOOLala or YouTube

3. My Tooth Your Love dentist/chef; trauma healing

Bai Lang is a successful bistro owner with an severe fear of visiting the dentist... until a toothache forces him to come face to face with the handsome yet cold dentist Jin Xunan.

Viki

4. Anti Reset android/human

When Chu Yi Ping, an emotionless man, dislocates his hand in an accident at school, his uncle gives him Ever 9 as a caretaker, an experimental intelligent robot that his company is secretly testing.

Viki or iQIYI or GagaOOLala

5. History2: Crossing the Line sports; high school setting

When an injury sidelines a high school senior from the volleyball team, he develops feelings for a recruit.

YouTube or Viki

> more tv shows from Taiwan

Philippines 🇵🇭

1. Sleep With Me wlw; radio; disabled character in a wheelchair

A science textbook writer with a sleep disorder meets a wheelchair-using radio host who runs the midnight shift. This chance encounter at the radio station quickly sparks their interest in each other.

GagaOOLala

---

You can watch many shows for free on YouTube, and watch others on the streaming websites by setting VPN to one of the countries in the list. In other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can’t, watch on KissKH (better quality), Dramacool or get files from MkvDrama. Enjoy! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

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unboundprompts · 7 months

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an enemy to lovers and one bed trope but I need their responses in the morning being strangled to eachother

One Bed Trope: Morning After Dialogue

-> feel free to edit as you see fit

"Get off of me."

"Is it weird I'm comfortable?"

"Jesus Christ how did we manage to fall asleep like this?"

"How the hell did you wrap your leg around me?"

"You've been laying on my arm all night and I can't feel it."

"I would've moved to the floor but you were using me as a pillow."

"I almost fist-fought you last night when you took the blanket."

"I have to pee so bad please get up."

"I don't think I'm going to be able to look you in the eyes after this."

"You snore. Loudly."

"I do not snore, you liar."

"We don't have to talk about it, just get dressed."

"It's too early for this, we'll talk about it later."

"I don't understand how I slept so good last night."

"Let's keep it professional, alright?"

"Don't get confused, I was only clinging to you because you stole the blanket and I had no other way to keep warm."

"We're not going to bring this up ever again, right?"

"I slept really good last night." "That makes one of us."

"My arm is still asleep."

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

"How did the blanket end up on the floor? No wonder I was freezing."

"Go back to sleep."

"You're the only source of warmth in this stupid hotel, come back to bed before I get hypothermia."

#writing prompts #dialogue prompt #otp prompts #creative writing #prompt list #ask box prompts #one bed trope #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers prompts #soft prompts #morning after #fluff prompts #argument prompts

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gamermattsgf · 3 months

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Pulling on pigtails // beard Matt

Warnings: smut tehee / beard kink (is this even a thing?? lol) / cunnilingus / ‘good girl’ + ‘little girl’ / thigh kink / hair pulling / soft dom x sub fem reader / seated scissors / praise kink / spit kink / cream pie / hair pulling if you squint

Summary: you and Matt didn’t like each other at all when you were younger. In fact, you hated each other. Or so you thought. Y’know that one saying? That if a boy pulls on a girl’s pigtails it means he secretly likes her? Well… in Matt’s case that was certainly true, it just took him a little bit of growing up to realise.

Author’s notes: childhood enemies to lovers oooo, new trope time. This was a spur of the moment idea that literally popped up into my head during one of my classes. Reminder to pretend the reader is on the pill PLS. And just a quick warning that this one is going to be switching from in between diff time periods if anyone gets confused. Also beard Matt? R u kidding?? *orgasms*.

“Sometime ‘round eighth grade, remember our bodies were changing, you looked at me different…” - Ant Pile, Dominic Fike

•First grade•

You’re playing in the sandpit, just minding your own business by piling hoards of grit into the little bucket you have resting at your side. You intend to make a sandcastle, one of the best sandcastles you’ve ever made.

You stick your tongue out in concentration, your summer dress fit for the sunshine as it adorns your little body. Your sunhat is nestled on top of your head to shield you from the harsh rays that beam down from the sky whilst you busy away with playing by yourself. Packing in the sand tightly and then turning it with expert precision, your small chubby arms lift the mould carefully before you smile widely at the vision of the perfect sculpture placed before you. Well, as perfect as a sculpture of something can be to a 6 year old…

You have your back turned to your surroundings as you marvel at your creation. A mistake. Because, after you place the bucket back to the floor, someone else’s hand grabs a firm hold of one of your pigtails, yanking it backwards. You squeak as you fall onto your behind, covering the dress printed with sweet little strawberries in a myriad of sand before you twist your head at the sound of a childishly mean laugh.

‘Ouch? What was that for?’ Your voice wobbles, your glassy eyes looking at a young Matt who stands and crosses his arms in gleeful cruelty behind you, his dungarees still a little big for him and the slivers of a Spider-Man t-shirt peaking out from under the covers of his denim. He ignores you as he boyishly smirks, his dark blond hair straight and his mouth opening to bully you even further.

‘Ha! You loser. What ya doin’ building sandcastles?’ He jeers as he steps into the sandpit, his new pair of unlaced converse already scuffed up because of the amount of games of tag he’s played with his friends this morning. Suddenly, and to your utter dismay, he doesn’t give you enough time to retort back your upset before he is raising one of his legs and kicking it outwards. It barrels straight into your perfect sandcastle.

‘Building sandcastles is for babies. Babies like you!’ He ridicules as he stomps his foot into the sandcastle that you had just poured your entire heart and soul into creating not even moments ago.

Your fragile eyes well up with tears that drip from your waterline after Matt finishes crushing your craft. ‘That wasn’t very nice…’ you peep with an unmistakable frown on your face and your voice already raggedy with sobs. Matt’s beady blue eyes look at you once more, before he screws his face up and observes the way you cry, still in the position from when he had first snuck up to you and pulled on your hair teasingly.

‘Aww what’s wrong… you gonna cry?’ He feigns a pout as your nose begins to run.

Your little self feels so embarrassed that you’re crying in front of a boy, no less crying in front of Matt. He’s so mean to you. He picks on you all the time. You get no peace from him, you just wish he’d leave you alone, you liked being alone.

Pulling the stuffed animal you take everywhere you go from the floor, you hug it delicately into your chest as Matt jeers a chanting ‘Crybaby! Crybaby! Crybaby!’ Continuously whilst leaping around and pointing at you. You look to the ground shamefully, before you can’t take much more of his abuse. You don’t want to attract any more attention, not even from the parents that all flock together just yards away, huddled around the neighbourhood barbecue. And you certainly don’t want Matt causing you even more grief by calling you a snitch.

So instead, a simple whine is peeped from your throat as Matt steps back out of the sandbox, but not before playing with you once again by knocking off the little flowery bucket hat that had been fixed onto your head. You swipe it back up and dust it off angrily as he giggles and skitters off to go and play another game of hide and go seek with all of the other kids on the neighbourhood block. He turns back around once more to rudely stick his tongue out at you before leaving you all by yourself, now to wallow in your own sadness as you slump next to the destroyed sandcastle.

You just can’t help yourself as your nerve snaps, and as Matt runs away in his baggy dungarees, you squeal a high pitched and defiant ‘Maaaattt!!!’ To emphasises your anger, before huffing and petulantly crossing your arms, your head still kind of emanating a dull ache from where he had pulled your hair earlier.

Like you said, you just wished that annoying boy would leave you alone.

•Now•

‘Matt…’ you moan as he drops your thighs from the fleshy grip of his hands. You fall to your bed.

Within the soft lighting, his beard looks even darker and more prominent as he gazes at you with hungry eyes. Your heart beats down at your clit at wanting his tongue on you as soon as possible.

You and Matt are slightly older now.

At the roaring age of 20, you had bumped into him in your local grocery store after not seeing him for years. You see, you and him had gone to different high schools when you were younger, and sure, you had seen him around your neighbourhood a couple of times before, but it had never been enough to form a proper conversation with him.

Both of you had clearly been shocked at how much your appearances had changed as adults. You found it quite funny really, that the boy from your old neighbourhood block who used to crumple up balls of paper and chuck them at your head childishly, now had himself a beard.

Matt had been too stunned to speak.

Now being the mature young man that he was, he really didn’t expect to see an age old crush of his standing before him and looking just as pretty, if not prettier than she had when in her youth.

In the grocery store, he remembered smiling fondly at you as you both stood in the bread section, before reaching out one of his hands to jokingly tug on one of the pigtails. ‘Still wear around your pigtails huh?’ He had mumbled, a wave of nostalgia hitting the both of you as you looked at each other curiously. You blushed, embarrassed that the day you had decided to plait your hair into pigtails was the day that you would bump into what you considered to be your childhood bully. Typical.

Although, Matt saw you as something completely different at the time - unbeknownst to you.

You had shrugged and smiled sheepishly, replying with a ‘you’ve got a beard now…’ as you pointed towards the dark hair holding up his cheekbones sharply. Matt had softly chuckled and gently dropped his eyes to check you out. ‘Yeah I guess I do’.

As you chatted a little more, both of you decided to stick with each other for the rest of the duration of your grocery trips to catch up. Matt had even walked you out of the store and into the small parking lot. After he had put his groceries away into his car, shutting the trunk and locking it back up again, he felt the need to talk to you further and so shyly asked you out to dinner- which obviously you agreed to.

It was nice to see how much Matt had changed and really grown up, it was refreshing almost. However, that dinner date didn’t end at all like how you expected it would… because to end the evening, Matt had spent the entire night apologetically fucking his cock up into you on your couch, both of your faces sweaty and blushed, soaking in the obvious attraction you had felt towards one another. His hands had tightly intertwined with yours as he pinned them above your head and his mouth had been so close to yours the whole entire time. You remember him releasing whimpering pants against your mouth in between sloppy kisses whilst he mumbled ‘m’sorry… m’so sorry for how I treated you when we were kids…’.

But after you were finished, the endeavour didn’t end there, you didn’t cut off all contact with each other and go back to never speaking again. No. Instead, Matt had boldly asked for your updated number, since both of you now had phones, a luxury that 6 year old you two could have only dreamt of. And he texted you, again and again, and he also came over to fuck you… again and again. He was certainly a lot more straightforward with it now, that’s for sure.

Matt just couldn’t get enough of you, he was fucking obsessed with you, and he took full advantage over the fact that his 20 year old self now had the confidence to pursue you, the confidence that 8th grade Matt lacked.

And so that was that.

Now you are both here, Matt making a routine visit around to your apartment with hungry eyes and a hungry appetite.

The older boy kneels onto your bed, the mattress groaning and squeaking underneath his weight which gets you to shift in anticipated desire as he crawls right over to your awaiting body.

Slipping in between your legs, your hands splay behind you and keep you steady as his lips feather onto yours again, his tongue making easy work of snaking into your mouth and licking against your own. He kneels in between your spread legs, smoothing his hands down your rib cage and sliding them to your hips, before moaning ‘lie down angel’ into your lips, gently helping you by digging his thumbs into your tender flesh.

You fall back, your hair fanning out around you, but your head not quite reaching a pillow, so Matt smacks his lips, leaning over you so he can snatch one and slide it under your head for your comfort.

‘That better for my baby?’ He mumbles with his hands coming to rest under your arms, dangerously close to your swelled tits that had hardened upon his presence. You nod and he smirks, leaning his head down as he simultaneously moves his thumbs onto the pebbles of your nipples, yourself whimpering whilst he rubs them and kisses down into your mouth again.

Matt spent an awful lot of time during your horny fucks trying to make up for his past actions and mean comments by showering you with compliments and babying you as much as possible and it worked to flatter you into wetness every single fucking time.

‘Aren’t you just so pretty…’ he absentmindedly praises against your lips, now slipping the rest of his hands onto your tits to gently squeeze them, resulting in your rosy blush turning to an aroused red.

You swallow, bashful and nervous as he gets you to lean up so that he can slip your thin cotton top from off of your torso.

Throwing it to the floor, he sits back on his haunches to admire your bare tits, dewy and flushed whilst you look away in embarrassment.

‘Stop staring…’ you mumble shyly, but he only frowns, reaching his hand forward to grip your chin and turn it back to his face. ‘But why? They’re mine are they not? You’re my little girl… not anyone else’s… beautiful things should be looked at’ he starts, and once again, you feel the gush and drip of your arousal seeping through your underwear.

His voice dims to a whisper… ‘and beautiful things should be touched… shouldn’t they angel?’ He asks a rhetorical question before his hands find your tits again.

You falter, moaning a little when his mouth comes next, fully attaching itself to your right one so that his tongue can roll over your sensitivity, he hums and your back arches when you grip onto his floppy hair, his palms now caressing your waist. ‘Fuck…’ you quietly breathe into the air, nearly having to bite your lip and suppress a groan when Matt cheekily mumbles ‘is my little girl trying to use big girl words now?’ into you tits.

His tongue drips saliva all over them, and when he pulls away the freshly coated skin shines within the light, before he goes to suck on your left one.

Matt likes to spend extra time on every inch of your body, every inch of your skin, before he really gets what he wants, which is a taste of the delicate cherry nestled in between your honeyed thighs.

Leaning his chin on your breastbone, he watches the way you have your head thrown back in ecstasy like a lion, before he leans back up to roll both his sweater and his shirt up and over his head, soon discarding his own clothes. Then, he slips his thumbs into your pyjama shorts, taking them off and almost drooling at the sight of your baby pink panties, soft with a little bow at the stitch of them.

Some things never change. Your incessant love for the colour pink ever since you‘ve been a little kid being one of them.

This makes Matt’s cock throb, and he drips pre-come into his boxers at the sight of his little girl with her tits out, all hot and bothered just for him as he leers over her.

Suddenly, you pipe up in a gentle voice, being careful with your inquire which makes Matt’s heart melt and his cock even harder.

‘Can… can I have your special kisses now, please?’

Matt nods his head, stroking his hands down the backs of your thighs as he dreamily muses ‘of course you can angel… such a good girl for asking so nicely, aren’t you?’.

His praise naturally rolls off of his tongue like melted chocolate, and his hands make you ache. Finally, he leans down, before nudging his nose against your throbbing nerve, mumbling a starved ‘these panties are so pretty little girl… I think I’m going to keep them so that I can wrap them around my cock whilst I think of you when I touch myself’.

With that being said, you let out a strangled breath, your back yet again arching and your toes curling as his thumbs slip into the waistband of them to pull them off.

After they roll off, Matt shoves them into his back jean pocket, wasting no time in diving back down and spreading your thighs open for him whilst he caresses them. He squeezes them when you hiss at the feeling of his tongue licking into you, his head nestled right in between your thighs so that he can look up at your face over-protectively.

Matt’s facial hair is long enough for you to feel his bearded face harshly graze along each side of your thigh whilst his jaw works mercilessly. The rough hairs rub against your core when his nose nudges against your folds to get better access and you arch your back into the air at the sensation of it.

‘Matt- that feels so good… please-’ you beg, not being able to help yourself as you grab his hair and keep him there, squeezing your thighs around his head so that you can guiltily feel his facial hair better as he licks into you.

‘Yeah? Am I treating my little girl well hm? Am I taking care of her like I said I would?’ He teases, bringing his face up to look right into your eyes from between your legs, obviously happy with the noises he has managed to force out of you thus far.

You nod your head, humming aggressively before you buck your hips up, wanting him to continue for a little while longer… and so he does, except this time, something changes within the swirling motions of his tongue.

Instead of his usual strokes and licks, he slows his wet muscle down, making you realise within the suggestive motions that he is spelling out an ‘M’ on your clit. After the ‘M’ he slowly kisses it once, before spelling out an ‘A’. Your stomach drops and churns with desire at the possessive yet erotic nature of the action.

Soon after a continuation of kisses, two ‘T’s are spelt out, and finally an ‘S’…

Matt’s…

Your clit belongs to Matt, and he makes that very clear with the flick of his tongue and the look he gives you as he gazes up at you whilst spitting on it to get it wetter with his own saliva.

‘You’re fucking mine’ he throatily speaks with a deep hoarseness to his voice, and your stomach rises and falls with laboured breaths.

‘Yes… yes I’m all yours!’ You whine into the air, looking down at Matt just as lustfully as he looks up at you, your past hatred of each other all washing away as you find comfort within the tangle of your limbs.

Then Matt hums. ‘You’ve been such a good girl for me, letting me have you like that…’ he strokes your thighs yet again in adoration, resting his bearded chin on your pubic bone whilst lustily flitting his eyes up to you.

You smile at how similar yet different he looks to you now, both of you enthralled completely with each other. Past pains and experiences are wiped clean from the new slate you selected for your lives as soon as you had bumped into each other that one time in the grocery store.

•Fourth grade•

You’re on a field trip with your fourth grade class to your local aquarium.

You mind your own business, sticking out like a sore thumb as you trail behind everyone else, walking at the back by yourself. But you don’t feel lonely, you feel content at finally having peace. As the rest of your class chatters in groups happily, squealing and marvelling at all of the colourful fish, you prefer to admire them in quiet silence, walking right up to the glass and staring at their delicate fins before each time, seeing that the rest of the class has moved on and running to catch up with them.

You had just exited the underwater tunnel through the shark tank, looking at the floor to see their sleek grey bodies gliding underneath you before entering the jellyfish room. There are tanks upon tanks of different colourful jellies, some poisonous and some harmless, but all of them equally as beautiful with their trailing tendrils of stingers. You gasp quietly, your eyes sparkling as you run up to a massive tank full of a glowing purple and green species that float and dance about in the deep blue water aimlessly.

You press your hands up to the glass in childlike wonder, your nose almost touching the thick material whilst you scan over them and try to count how many are in the tank.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes watch your back, he too, by himself as his group of friends had left him to go and look at a tank full of long orange jellyfish. He hides behind a small tank in the centre of the room, shyly peaking around the corner at you and trying to think of a way he can poke at you.

He bites his nails and hums, wanting an excuse to walk up and tease you since he hasn’t already done so today. Ultimately, he decides to creep up behind you, smirking quickly at the creative idea that shoots through his mind whilst looking at your dad’s old baseball cap sitting on your head.

His quiet walk soon turns into a quick bursting sprint, allowing him to race up to you and pluck your hat from off of your head before you have the time to register who it even is. You yelp and spin around in fear, your hand slapped on top of your now bare head as you look at a proud Matt in horror and fear. Your heart rate quickens. You were so scared of him.

‘HEY! Give me that back!!’ You bravely demand, your attention now distracted from the jellyfish and fixating upon the wicked boy who smirks and holds it up above his head. You go to reach for it, but realise in dismay that you aren’t tall enough. Matt had annoyingly had a boyish growth spurt over the winter break and was now a couple of inches taller than you.

You feel sick in worry as your heart rattles against your ribcage.

‘Ha! Nice try’ he cackles, extending his hand up even further when you wobble onto your tiptoes to try and reach for it. To steady your balance, you have to grapple your hand onto one of Matt’s shoulders to stretch upwards and he secretly blushes, not too sure as to why your touches seems to give him conflicted feelings of affection. You whine when he only leans up onto his tiptoes too, again, pushing your hat up further from your reach.

‘Matt this isn’t funny’ you struggle, smacking your lips and extending out your body as far as you can, before he starts to wave about his arm to dodge your clawed hand. He only giggles deviously in return.

Once, just once, you’d wish for him to not pester you when you’re minding your own business, you were enjoying your little day trip out, and this just ruined it all.

‘Yes it is’ he retorts back. But before he can take his jest any further, your fourth grade teacher Mrs Banks notices your little ruckus and decides to intervene, much to your immediate relief.

‘Matthew Sturniolo!’ She calls and Matt suddenly goes rigid, the hairs on the back of his neck raising as he turns to look at her sheepishly whilst her short high heels clack towards you two. You relax, knowing that Matt is probably most likely going to be told off. And you’re right when she berates him and forces him to hand you back your hat and apologise.

For the rest of the school trip you stay glued to Mrs Bank’s side, fearful that trailing at the back will only make you more of a target for Matt’s vicious onslaught of teasing once again. But Matt stays put with the rest of his friends, only giving you periodic glances and death stares after being chastised by your teacher.

You went home that day feeling dejected and Matt went home feeling confused and frustrated. Because why is it, that he enjoyed teasing you so much. So much so to the extent where he didn’t think he could go a day without it?

•Now•

‘Do you think you’re ready for my cock now angel…?’ He questions, before answering the question himself when he leans upwards to unbuckle his belt, the metal jingling as he threads it through his belt loopholes and onto the floor.

Then his pants come next, leaving him almost as exposed as you, before he bends back down and digs his hands underneath your body, scooping you up effortlessly and cushioning you into his lap. His hands freely trail, groping and squeezing your thighs so hard that when he removes them, they leave little red marks and crescent moon nail imprints into your flesh.

You kiss frantically once again, desperate to engulf your scents over each other’s skin whilst you place your thumbs on either sides of his cheeks. His tongue is hot and sticky, your connection so messy that sometimes you accidentally get spit over the skin around your mouths. As you stroke your fingers over his jaw and cheekbones, you feel his bristly facial hair and clench your soaked thighs at its roughness, remembering the way it sharply rubbed against the insides of your spread legs just moments ago.

‘Please- please can I have your thigh…?’ You politely ask into his lips, your beg coming out breathless and whimpered. Matt sighs, ‘but baby… I wanna have your gut…’. You pull away and pout in sadness, and Matt’s heart sinks at the look on your face, again, the guilt of his past coming to haunt him. Just then, he thinks of an idea.

‘Why don’t we compromise then…’ your face lights up and you nod.

‘What do you want me to do…?’ You trail off and clench again when Matt pinches one of your thighs. Matt smirks, and then crunches his stomach so that he can lower his back onto your mattress, yourself still sitting on his lap. ‘Take these off angel…’ he mumbles, referring to his boxers that conceal his dripping cock. You obey him without question, the angel comment driving you to the edge as you hook your hands into his pants and slide them down. You get up from off of his lap momentarily to remove them from his haired thighs and toss them onto the floor before returning your full attention to the way his cock stands and almost visibly pulses.

‘What now?’ You breathe and watch Matt’s grin as his head props itself up onto your stack of pillows. ‘Back on my lap n’turn around… let me see that ass’ he instructs lightly, his voice soothing and encouraging as you squint your eyes and turn your back to him in confusion. Swinging one of your legs over to his other hip, you sit on his pelvic bones, the sight of his sticky red tip dripping from just below you.

‘Spit on it.’ He demands once again, this time in a more commanding tone. Again, you do exactly as he says and let a thick string of saliva pour from out of your mouth. It splatters right onto his head and he hisses as it slowly rolls its way down the left side of his thickness. ‘Good girl…’ he struggles, his voice forced through his gritted teeth.

‘Now put one of your legs in between mine and sit on my cock’, you obey him quickly, your core aching to feel his shaft forcing your walls apart as you hoist you left leg in between his so that you can now sit on top of him at an angle. Gravitating upwards, you grip onto him and push his tip in between your folds. Slowly sliding down you let out a gulping pant before fully sitting your ass back down over his bulging hipbone. Matt tips his head back and feathers his eyes shut before willing himself to slide the thigh nestled in between your two legs upwards.

He brings it up just far enough for you to grind your clit over it when you start to move.

‘There’s your thigh angel’.

He smirks whilst looking at your back, your ass so tantalisingly sat on him that he could burst at any moment. He feels the heat from your clit emanating towards his thigh readily and it makes his mouth water.

Your chest heaves as you look down at his haired thigh wedging open your legs, the hard muscle of it brushing against your clit ever so slightly. After a couple of moments of silence and heaving breaths, Matt decides to reach out his hands to smooth them against the curves of your hips, his palms splayed on the sides of your asscheeks. ‘Is my little girl gonna move then, hm?’ He hums tauntingly, before helping you a little by rocking you forward and flexing his thigh towards you so that you can grind it onto your clit.

Your breath hitches and one of your hands comes flying up to firmly grasp ahold of his bent kneecap, the other one gripping onto the bedsheets at your side.

He starts to move you gently, his cock slipping in and out of your cunt slickly whilst your weeping clit is continuously stimulated on his thigh. You bite your lip, tossing your head back and arching your spine into the rest of his thigh whilst he keeps his eyes trained on the way your ass shakes gently with every swivel of your bouncing hips.

‘Thaaaat’s it… that’s my good girl’ he coos up to you with his raspy voice, admiring you from the back whilst you get off to him in the scissored seating arrangement.

‘Matt… this feels so good- please don’t… don’t stop…’ you whine through a moan, twisting your neck back slightly so that you can watch the way Matt’s mouth opens through pants, his cheeks pink with bashfulness as he guides your hips with his veiny hands. He hits all of your sweet spots at once this way.

‘Don’t worry angel face… m’not stopping until I make you cum the amount of times I made you cry…’.

•Eighth grade•

Matt and you are 13 now. Both going into eighth grade. Matt had been away at a summer camp all break and within that expanse of time you had developed a bit, both inwardly and more importantly… outwardly.

When you both return to school he isn’t quite expecting the sudden change in your appearance and he wonders how someone could morph so much in such a small amount of time… Going into your teenage years is certainly a perilous time for both of you because for one, your bodies are changing and your hormones are only just starting to activate properly, and two, Matt is finally getting to understand that possibly… affectionate feelings of his turn into acts of bullying when he likes someone.

That someone being you.

Matt’s 13-year-old self stands there, with gangly, growing limbs as he quietly ogles at you from afar, feeling awkward and self conscious in his own teenage boy body. What are these fucking feelings? Why are they so confusing? And why can’t they just leave him alone?

He watches you walk down the corridor towards him, his heart nervously thumping in his chest. He thinks you’re going to just walk past him, until he sees that you’re walking straight for him instead. He freezes, and almost pisses himself in fear with his fingers twitching and his eyes widened.

Quick Matt, think of something mean to say to her before it’s too late.

‘Excuse me’ you say bravely, trying to force down your nerves in front of a Matt, who clearly came back from summer camp with a gorgeous tan, his also usually dark brown hair bleached slightly lighter thanks to the sun. You thought it had been odd when his blonde hair back in first grade had slowly started to darken until he had turned into a brunette, but now you were used to it.

‘What?’ Matt mumbles, a little spaced out.

You raise your eyebrows at him. ‘Um… you’re standing in front of my locker I think’ you say, scared as to why he could be standing in front of your locker. Matt tried his hardest to shove down any nerves in front of you before scoffing and stepping to the side. He rolls his eyes.

‘Oh great, more than a hundred lockers in school and I get stuck next to yours’. Ah, so that’s why he is standing here… his locker is right beside yours. Great. You wince. You anticipate a mean comment from him every time you interact with him, but it doesn’t get any easier taking it. Guess that summer camp spirit he would have been surrounded with didn’t change his tune as much as you had hoped it would have.

‘Believe me, I’m not happy about it either’ you spit back, and shove past his lean figure to get to your locker. You start to put in your combination.

Matt blows a huff of air from out of his lips, crossing his arms and fidgeting about awkwardly behind you.

‘Knowing- knowing my luck… I’ll probably get stuck in the same class as you too’ he stutters, inwardly scolding himself for literally losing the ability to summon his normally quick witted attitude. Instead he stumbles over his words like an idiot. You only shake your head and sigh, shoving a note pad into the metal compartment before slamming it shut and re-locking it. ‘Whatever Matt’ you scoff and strut away, leaving Matt almost gripping the wall and heaving a sigh of relief when you’re gone.

But then later that day, it really is just your luck. Because both you and Matt end up walking into the exact same math class together, the two of you collectively sighing, but for vastly different reasons.

•Now•

‘Fuck you always feel so good’ Matt whines deliriously. ‘You’re perfect… just perfect for me’. The air around the both of you is hot, your skin rough and sticky with sweat whilst the sound of the bed squeaking underneath your bounces harmonises with your moans. You feel like crying in ecstasy, you love it when Matt’s cock makes you feel so full, because it helps to sate your appetite and you look forward to him coming around everytime he texts that he’s going to drop by.

You are so fond of how mature he is, how old he looks. It makes you squeeze your thighs together. And now he grows his beard out just for you because you say you like it so much, until it gets a little too long and he has to shave it again. But whenever it’s at that perfect stage, he always spends multiple nights around at your apartment, just so that you can utilise it. Matt doesn’t mind, he fucking loves it. Anything to make you happy.

‘I’m… I’m your good girl’ you breathe back to him, his thigh now almost soaking with sticky precum and spit whilst you grind you clit onto him and ride his cock simultaneously. ‘You’re my good girl’ he responds back reassuringly, the possessiveness in his tone only making you squeeze around him more. He doesn’t bother to bite his hand to hide his whimpers of pleasure because he knows you deserve to hear them, deserve to see the way you make him feel after all of these long winded years of unsolved feelings and pain.

You swivel on him a little longer, your tits bouncing rhythmically before pressure knots your stomach tightly together. Your mouth hangs slack as your shoulders heave more than normal. ‘Baby… baby I think I- I’m gonna cum’ you utter a high pitched breath to him, and he nods, rubbing his thumbs over your ass cheeks comfortingly as he helps speed you up a little faster. It drives him fucking feral when you call him baby, because he’s so fucking selfish and possessive over you.

‘Go on angel… cum all over me like a good girl’ he states once again, which is enough for the tight tension within your gut to snap. Waves upon waves of euphoria rush all down your thighs, your high lasting for a good while. Within this time, Matt’s breath similarly hitches, and it’s not long before he’s creaming his load into you too, ropes of cum dripping down your walls and around his now extremely slimy member whilst he thrusts you into oblivion and exemplifies your orgasm.

After they are over, you messily collapse backwards, your chest heaving thickly as you laugh. Your sweaty skins lies flushed against Matt’s whilst you rest on top of him. He smiles gently at your little giggle before scooping his arms up to tuck them underneath your tits. Using his upper body strength, he gently slides you up his torso a little farther so that he can cuddle you into him closely. He kisses your head gently, before moving on to kiss the shell of your ear as well. In doing this, his cock is slowly removed from your spent hole, allowing you to both relax in tired exhaustion.

Matt closes his eyes whilst nuzzling his nose into your hair. You delicately place your hands onto his forearms that wrap tightly around your chest. You stare at the ceiling before mumbling ‘who would’ve thought…’ down to Matt, who simply grumbles in questioning from below you. ‘That the guy who I thought used to hate me ended up in my bed a couple of years later’. You snigger and Matt smacks his lips, opening one of his eyes to turn and peek at your side profile from below you.

‘I never hated you… not really…’.

Author’s notes p.2: I just love Dominic Fike bro, any excuse to put his songs in one of my stories. No because I actually love this plot line, aren’t they just cuties?? I hope u guys were okay with visualising the position I had them in bc I gotta tell you, I was squinting my eyes trying to write it so that it made sense lmaoo. @luvmila444 u are so so welcome for this, sorry for the wait bbg :(. Also the blogs that are in bold on my taglist- I’m so sorry but for some reason tumblr isn’t recognising your names so I don’t think I’ve been able to tag u properly :/. But anyways I hope u all enjoyed this, and as always, ask/request anything, I love answering shit hehe.

Taglist: @lovingmattysposts @sturniolosreads @luv4kozume @luvmila444 @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @asturniolos @thesturniolos @matthemunch @sturnioloenthusiast @vecnasnose0 @chr1sgirl4life @kvtie444 @ellie-luvsfics @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @luverboychris @isabellehoran @carolsturns1 @meanttomeet @rootbeerworshiper @lovergirl4387 @1800chokedathoe @sophie21153-blog

#sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sub matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic

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forever--darling · 1 year

Text

ONE OF US| neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: neteyam sully was the next olo'eyktan and for years had been focused on his training and his responsibilities only. he had never accounted for you to become one of them. when you got your avatar body and ended up in the forest alone, being brought to the village and offered to be taught the ways of the people wasn't what you expected. let alone it being neteyam, future olo'eyktan becoming your teacher.

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader (aged up)

word count: 97,582 (completed: 02/01/23)

warnings/notes: enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, angst, swearing, mention of child abandonment, mention of sky people, mention of death, lo'ak x avatar!reader (if you squint), asshole!neteyam/protective!neteyam, smut in later chapters

masterlist | requests are currently open for now

please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+, and although I can't monitor who reads my work, if you are not 18+ I advise that you do not engage in my page or stories.

I. snga’itseng — just the beginning

II. the ways of the na'vi

III. the outsider

IV. iknimaya

V. na’viyä hapxì — one of the people

VI. as the world caves in

VII. one of us

VIII. the deepest sighs, the frankest shadows

one of us spotify playlist - any songs you might think fit for the series? lmk so I can add them.

poem inspos: let him be soft the sun and the moon

#avatar masterlist #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak imagine #neteyam fanfiction #lo'ak fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #writer #series

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celiastjamesoscar · 9 months

Text

Exile

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: you and Wednesday were best friends when you were kids, but after Nero’s death, she became cold and distant, and your former friendship turned into a rivalry. Ten years after your friendship ended, unusual circumstances force you two back together.

Trope: childhood friends to enemies to lovers

Warnings: small violent at beginning, angst, death of Nero. Let me know if I missed any!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 12.3K (what’s a word count?)

The sound of children laughing rang throughout the woods on a crisp fall morning. The trees were beautiful vibrant colors that painted the landscape with shades of fiery red, golden yellow, and earthly orange. The crisp air that one could taste in their lungs carried a gentle rustling of fallen leaves while the scent of decaying foliage filled the atmosphere. The ground was adorned with a carpet of fallen leaves that created a soft crunch when the two children ran through the serene woodland.

Even though one child chased the other with a small ax, the two had the same fun. The one with the ax was a taller girl with jet-black twin braids who wore all-black clothing, expert for her white collar shirt. She wore a giant smile on her face as she chased her best friend, Y/N.

You were shorter than Wednesday but had just as much fire in you as Wednesday did. Where Wednesday’s eyes were as black as night, you had a gray and green eye that you used to hide behind sunglasses until Wednesday told you they were the most beautiful things in the world, “You shouldn’t hide what separates you from others, Y/N. Especially if it makes you all the more beautiful.”

You wore brighter colors than Wednesday, but you both shared a love for darkness. You were nothing without Wednesday, just as Wednesday was nothing without you.

The two made an odd pair, but one was never seen without the other. There were times when Morticia had to pry her daughter away from you to find that you had snuck back over sometime in the moonlight. Whenever Wednesday would practice her cello, she would invite you to play the piano, and together you two would create the most heavenly sound that would make angels cry. The contrast was there, but they fit together like puzzle pieces.

As they ran through the woods, you tripped on a small branch and fell to the ground, causing worry to overtake Wednesday as she sprinted to the fallen girl. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Wednesday asked as she knelt beside her friend, but her worry quickly disappeared when you sprang up and tackled her to the ground. You removed the ax from the taller girl’s grasp and held it to her neck. “I appear to be the victor,” you said with a giant smile contrasting Wednesday’s grim expression.

Wednesday leaned up and shoved you off her as she stood up and brushed herself off. “That’s hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday replied dryly as she helped you off the ground.

“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you shot back while standing up. You lived for the playful banter with Wednesday and would rather lose your tongue than go without annoying Wednesday for a day. You handed Wednesday the ax back so she could be the Hunter again, and she placed it in its holster on her hip.

As you two were getting ready to start a new game, a voice rattled the trees around you, “Wednesday! Y/N! Time to come home!” The two shared a look and rolled their eyes simultaneously; they both hated it when Morticia ruined their fun, but they started their walk back to the house nonetheless.

As they walked, Wednesday felt bold and pulled you into a headlock and brought the smaller girl’s head against her ribcage. You didn’t even have time to protest before you felt Wednesday’s knuckles dig into your scalp. You squirmed against Wednesday’s hold, but it was useless; the taller girl was stronger than you. So, you did what any sane person would do; you bit down on Wednesday’s forearm that was keeping you in place. Not enough to hurt the assailant, but just enough to let go of you. And just as you predicted, Wednesday let go of you and grabbed the area that the smaller girl just bit. “Why did you do that?” Wednesday questioned as she rubbed her arm back and forth.

“Uh, because I can?” You retorted as you motioned with her hand, giving Wednesday an attitude that the other girl scoffed at. “Let us go, my compact companion; we have tasks at hand,” Wednesday said as she grabbed your hand, and the two ran back to the Addams’ residence together.

“You have to stop calling me that,” you whined. Wednesday had her collection of names to call you, and the shorter girl hated them.

“It’s not my fault you’re shorter than me; blame your genetics,” Wednesday replied with a dry tone but a slight smile that caused you to smile once you saw it. Wednesday never smiled at anyone except you; Wednesday made a lot of exceptions for the more petite girl, even though she would never admit it.

When they arrived at the mansion, both girls were out of breath as Morticia came outside to greet them. “Hello, my little doves. Did you two enjoy the hunt?” Wednesday’s mother asked them as they went inside and took off their shoes.

“Yes, Mrs. Addams, I always have fun with Wens. She’s the best,” you breathlessly replied as you followed Wednesday up to her room.

Morticia was always fond of you; she loved how her morbid daughter seemed to light up when she was around you, and she knew that her daughter could always rely on and trust you. But all great things must come to an end.

Wednesday held her bedroom door open for you as they entered. The room was dark and cold, but it had character, like Wednesday. There were two giant windows that Wednesday always kept covered on the opposite wall of the door. There were collections of knives hung up on the walls, and the shelves were littered with bookshelves, and in the corner of the room was a cello right next to Y/N’s piano. A small fireplace was built into the wall and had a black, round table in front of it that sat only two. A black bed was in the center of the room with its headboard against the wall, and at the end of the bed was a small bed bench that was purple, Y/N’s favorite color. Above Wednesday’s bed were two swords mounted onto the ceiling; one had a black handle with the purple initials of W.A. etched into the ricasso, while the other had a purple handle with your initials engraved in black. You found the swords a bit odd, but according to Wednesday, it made her feel like Damocles.

You messed with the record player beside the fireplace and put on your favorite record. Soon, the upbeat saxophone of ‘Bop’ by Dan Seals filled the room. Wednesday rolled her eyes when she saw you recreate John Travolta’s ‘Twist’ dance from Pulp Fiction.

I want to bop with you, baby, all night long

I want to be-bop with you, baby, till the break of dawn

I want to bop with you, baby, all night long

“Come on, Wens. You know you wanna dance with me,” You said as you started making the swimming motion from the dance. Finding that she could never say no to Y/N, Wednesday rolled her eyes again before copying Uma Thurman’s dance to match you. When Wednesday did the snorkel dance move, you laughed at the taller girl’s awkwardness, and Wednesday smiled at the thought of making you laugh.

Out of breath, the two finished the dance, and they both had giant smiles as their eyes copied their lips. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked as she stuck out your hand and slightly bowed.

“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday stated but took your hand and allowed the girl to spin her.

Twenty minutes had passed when the clock on the fireplace dinged, telling Wednesday it was time to walk Nero. “It’s time for me to walk Nero, but I will see you when I get back,” Wednesday stated as she moved toward the area that was reserved for Nero and got him out of his cage, and put him on his leash.

The three walked down the front door together and left the house together. “See you in a minute,” you said as you walked away from Wednesday. The taller girl sent you a small wave as she walked toward town with Nero.

You arrived home and did what you usually did when Wednesday was away; you waited. You knew Wednesday’s schedule to the tee: wake up at six, morning torture with Pugsley at six-thirty, breakfast at seven-thirty, play with Y/N at eight until her walk with Nero at ten-thirty, come back at eleven and practice her cello with Y/N until twelve-thirty and have lunch at twelve-thirty five. The hours between one and three were filled with any ‘spontaneous activities’ Wednesday might want to do, and at four, she read until five, had dinner at six, and did nightly torturing with Pugsley (or Y/N if you consented) at six-thirty until bedtime at eight-thirty.

So when you checked the clock and saw it was ten-thirty-five, you left her house and skipped to Wednesday’s. As you approached the house, there was a sudden shift in the air, and you could taste it on your lips: death had arrived. You cautiously walked up the stairs and knocked on the door, something you never did. You were always around Wednesday so much that Morticia told you that you didn’t need to knock anymore as she could ‘sense’ the girl’s presence.

When the door opened, you knew that something had happened; you just hoped that Wednesday was okay. Gomez was standing before you with a grim expression as he ushered you in. Your eyes landed on a weeping Wednesday, and your heart broke. You moved to sit next to the goth girl and opened your arms, and Wednesday immediately hugged you and buried her face in the crook of your neck. You rubbed her best friend’s back as she continued crying; you didn’t know what to do, but you only knew that you wanted to be with Wednesday.

The following day, Wednesday had a funeral for Nero, and no one but Y/N could attend. The two girls shed a tear as they both placed a flower on his grave, and you comforted Wednesday once more. Later that night, in Wednesday’s room, Wednesday had allowed you to sleep in bed with her. The two girls were cuddled together, staring at the swords above them, when Wednesday broke the silence, “You are far too dear to me, Y/N. The pain I have felt the past two days is something I never want to experience again, and I certainly do not wish to experience it all over again because of you.”

“Don’t worry, Wednesday. You’re stuck with me till life do us part,” you replied as you hugged your best friend, never wanting to lose the girl.

At just six years old, Wednesday had lost her beloved pet and experienced grief for the first time, and she knew that she would have to grieve every single person in her life at some point. So that night, she made a vow; never to be close enough to someone where she would shed a tear because of their death, and that meant letting go of who she loved most: Y/N.

At first, it was very subtle: Wednesday would smile less around you, and she would spend less time working with you on your music. It was so subtle that no one but you noticed, and it hurt you. Then, more significant things began to happen; Wednesday would purposely fill her schedule with things to do that didn’t involve you, and when you two did hang out, she made sure to try and distance herself from you. And then it all came crashing down on Wednesday’s seventh birthday.

You had a small box in your hand as you walked up the steps to the front door of the Addams mansion and knocked, patiently waiting for someone to open the door. Only a few seconds had passed before Morticia opened the door and towered over the small child. “Hello, my darling. Wednesday is in the greenhouse,” Morticia said as she stood aside and let you into the house before shutting the door.

“Thank you, Mrs. Addams. I haven’t seen her in a couple of days, so I hope she won’t be angry,” you innocently said as you ignored the pain in her heart that Morticia seemed to pick up on.

Eager to change the subject in fear of you becoming sad, Morticia asked as she led you to the greenhouse, “I’ve already told you that you can stop calling me ‘Mrs. Addams,’ My child, so why do you continue?”

You shrugged your shoulders at the comment. You didn’t know why you still spoke to the woman in a formal tone, but it felt weird on your tongue to call her anything else. “I don’t know, I think it’s a respect thing for me,” you replied as you opened the door to the greenhouse. Morticia nodded at the child’s words before whispering, “Have fun with my little death trap.”

You smiled at Morticia’s words as you entered the greenhouse. You knew precisely where Wednesday would be and didn’t pretend to look for the goth girl.

Wednesday was cutting black roses from their stem when she heard soft footsteps behind her. She didn’t bother turning around; she could recognize those footsteps in the crowd of a thousand people. “What are you doing here, YN?” Wednesday asked in a dry tone that caused you to stiffen.

“It’s your birthday, and I wanted to give you something,” you said as you approached Wednesday and set the box next to her. “I know you love your birthday, as it is one more year closer to your death, so here’s your present to celebrate.”

Wednesday gave the more petite girl a suspicious look before putting down the rose and scissors and picking up the box. It was unnaturally light, so she doubted it was a weapon or bomb. She slowly took the lid off the box, and any words died on the tip of her tongue once she realized what it was.

It was a small, black, crocheted scorpion that took you hours to make. She also saw a small note underneath the scorpion, but she didn’t pick it up as her vision became red.

She didn’t know why she was angry. All Wednesday knew was that she wanted you gone. “Get out,” Wednesday hissed as she set the box down and grabbed a knife from her boot.

“What? Why?” You asked as you slowly backed up from Wednesday as your eyes fell on the knife. Of course, Wednesday would make the occasional threats, but you had never believed them; until now.

“Friends are nothing but liabilities, and they only hold me back. So. Get. Out.” Wednesday repeated as she backed you against a small flower pot. She no longer had control over her emotions, and every second she spent with you only seemed to anger her more.

“Wednesday, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you would have liked the gift. Please, I’m your best friend, and I-” Any words you were about to say got caught in your throat as Wednesday brought the knife up, cutting a straight line on your left eye. The cut was three inches below your eye and an inch above it.

The two stood there in disbelief as neither could believe what happened. Only when blood started pouring out of your cut, and you collapsed onto the floor did Wednesday do something; she called out for her mother’s help for the first and only time as she held you in her eyes, trying her best to fight back tears.

Morticia ran out to the greenhouse and instantly scooped you into her arms as she yelled for Gomez. The man came burling down the stairs and could not contain his tears as she saw your blood-covered state.

The couple quickly rushed you to the hospital, and once you were checked into the ER, the couple notified your parents. They arrived within ten minutes of the phone call, and they were everything but calm, from questioning how Morticia and Gomez allowed this to happen to demanding that Wednesday be punished.

The two sets of parents seemed to be at each other’s throats while Wednesday tried her best to disappear. She felt nothing but guilt for hurting her Y/N, and she wanted to do everything possible to make it up to the girl. So when Wednesday got her chance to see you, she practically sprinted into your room.

You were lying in a hospital with the entire left side of your face bandaged up, and Wednesday could see some blood seeping through. Wednesday slowly approached the bed and gently grabbed your hand. As if repulsed by the touch, you quickly pulled your hand away from Wednesday’s and brought it to your chest. You glared at Wednesday with your right eye before hissing, “Get out.”

“No, Y/N, you don’t understand-” Wednesday started but was quickly cut off by Y/N.

“I’m nothing but a liability to you, Wednesday, so leave,” you said as you crossed your arms and looked away from Wednesday, refusing to cry in front of the taller girl. ‘I think I’ll miss you forever; like the stars miss the sun in the morning skies,’ you thought as you watched your best friend leave.

Wednesday nodded her head and slowly walked to the door, and turned to face you one last time. “Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.”

You were once her crown, and now she was in exile seeing you out. She gave you so many warning signs, but you never learned to read her mind.

When she left the hospital, she felt nothing but shame and guilt that filled her body the entire car ride back home. She cleaned the blood off the floor before going to her room, where she sobbed for the second and last time.

School was different after that happened; the former best friends refused to meet each other’s gaze and soon found that their previous partnership turned into rivalry, constantly competing to be number one. It was an unfair competition, as Wednesday was more naturally gifted than you, and she seemed to beat you at everything, but you refused to give you. You would spend hours perfecting your craft, and when it came time for the archery competition, you beat Wednesday by a single point. Any chance for friendship was ruined when you accepted the first-place trophy and sent Wednesday an evil glare when she was awarded her second-place trophy.

Their rivalry continued like this for numerous years, always for captain for a particular activity or number one in their grade, but just as before, you always seemed to fall short. It continued for three years until you suddenly stopped showing up for school.

Wednesday believed that she had beaten you so far into the ground that you decided to stop coming to school. But after two weeks had passed and Wednesday had not seen her former best friend, she became curious and decided to stop by your house.

Only when Wednesday saw the ‘for sale’ sign in your yard, she allowed herself to be swallowed by guilt. She had pushed you too far in their competition for first and had made you move. Wednesday realized that she might never see her Y/N again, and regret flooded her mind as she slept on the purple bed bench with your sword in her arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think we are getting a new student today, and I'm totes excited!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped to Wednesday’s side of the room. The last person to arrive at Nevermore Academy was Wednesday herself, so naturally, Enid was ecstatic to meet someone new.

“You know I do not care for new faces who share the same boring personalities as everyone else here,” Wednesday mumbled while she typed on her type-writer.

Enid huffed at Wednesday’s remark before glancing at her roommate’s work. Wednesday noticed the action and quickly sent an elbow into Enid’s side, causing the girl to groan in pain. “You also know I hate it when you try to read my work. I have no idea why you keep trying to read anything; you know the result,” Wednesday stated as she continued typing.

“Whatever. Just humor me for a moment,” Enid said as she put some space between her and Wednesday, avoiding any elbows that might be sent her way. “I will not humor you but continue.”

“So, from what my sources tell me, she’s from Italy, not like the normal part of Italy, but the mob part!” Enid informed while using her hands to talk.

“Enid, just because someone is from Sicily doesn’t mean they are in the mob. And if she is, I would like to interrogate her about it; it could add a new element to my novel,” Wednesday said.

The brighter girl walked to her side of the room and grabbed her phone. When she picked it up, she made an obnoxious sound before sprinting to Wednesday. “She’s here Wednesday. You have to come and meet her!” Enid exclaimed as she lightly pulled on Wednesday’s arm, causing her to receive a death glare, but she allowed herself to be drawn from her seat.

The two quickly walked down the stairs and arrived at Weems’ office. “Why are we standing creepily outside Weems’ office?” Wednesday questioned as she glanced over her shoulder at her roommate.

“Because, silly, she’s in there talking to Weems right now, and when she comes out, I want to be the first to greet her. And I’ve already volunteered to give her a tour of the grounds,” Enid exclaimed in a hushed tone as if the stranger and Weems were pressed against the door, spying on their conversion.

“And what will I do? I am certainly not talking to another half-brain student,” Wednesday said dryly as she stared at the door.

Enid rolled her eyes at the goth girl’s statement; she had made Wednesday talk to someone new only once to find out that the person only talked about horses and the patriarchy. “You can glare uncomfortably on the sidelines then,” Enid replied.

Wednesday was getting ready to retort when she heard shuffling from behind the door and soft-spoken words that she could not make out.

“Howdie, friend! I’m Enid, and I’ll be giving you the tour!” Enid enthusiastically said as she attacked the girl with a hug.

All the air from Wednesday’s lungs had been sucked out as she stared at the stranger before her. She prayed to the old gods and new that this wasn’t some evil joke, her punishment for raising the dead. But when she saw the stranger smile, she knew this was her Y/N.

You stood before Wednesday with a human highlighter wrapped around your waist. You were wearing black slacks with a black button-up, and Wednesday felt a heart pick up as she admired you in her color. Where you once had chubby cheeks, they were now thinned out, and you had a jawline that could cut glass. You were once a short and stocky kid, but now you towered over Enid, and your muscular arms wrapped around the rainbow girl. It seemed like everything about you had changed, but nothing at all as well. You still had that bright smile and charming personality, as always, but Wednesday’s heart sank when she saw the scar on your eye. It took her a moment to notice it as you wore black sunglasses hiding your beautiful heterochromia.

“Ah, good, you’re already here, Enid, to give Miss Y/L/N a tour, and you’ve brought Miss Addams as well,” Weems said as she stepped out of her room and stood next to Enid and you. Wednesday nearly melted onto the floor when she saw you pull back from Enid and stand up straight, just a few inches shorter than Weems. She noticed how your smile faltered at the mention of ‘Addams’ before you played it off and plastered a fake smile on your lips. The air that was once filled with playful curiosity was one of tension, anger, betrayal, and longing.

“Addams,” you said with no emotion in a thick Italian accent as you extended your large and callused hand toward Wednesday that engulfed the goth girl’s small and cold hand. When your hands touched for the first time in ten years since the hospital, you both felt an electric charge pass between you two, and time seemed to stand still for a moment while the rest of the world disappeared around them.

Your covered eyes locked with Wednesday’s, and you both knew you felt an undeniable spark that sent shivers down your spines. Unspoken words seemed to flow between their fingertips as if their souls were communicating through the simple touch. They both felt the unexplainable and undeniable chemistry rushing back and flooding their minds as they looked at each other for the first time in seven years.

“Y/L/N,” Wednesday replied as she eagerly dropped your hand and wiped her palm on her pants as if it would erase the spark she felt.

Enid and Weems both shared a look as they watched the awkward encounter between the two girls, clearly displaying that they have a history between them. Enid cleared her throat as she stepped between you and Wednesday, “alrighty then, shall we get started with our tour?”

Your mood switched on a dime, and you instantly beamed at Enid’s words. You smiled down at the girl and locked your elbow with hers, and rested your hand gently on her arm, “Of course, my dear, let us begin our journey.” Wednesday pulled her eyes at your remark but walked a few paces behind you and her roommate; she knew this would be the start of a very unfortunate friendship.

“Welcome to the quad,” Enid said as she unlocked your arms and motioned around with her hands. “It’s a pentagon,” you replied as you looked at your surroundings.

Enid rolled her eyes at your comment; great, now she’d have to deal with two Wednesdays as if one wasn’t enough. “You know, Wednesday said the same thing when she first arrived too. I have a feeling you two will be the best of friends!” Enid stated in a cheerful tone after releasing that her roommate can have more than one friend.

“No,” the formal best friends said simultaneously and sent each other a glare, and if Enid picked up on it, you were glad she didn’t say anything.

“Allow me to give you a rundown on the social scene here at Nevermore,” Enid said as she walked around the ‘quad.’ “There are many flavors of outcasts here, but the four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales,” the brighter girl stated while counting her fingers.

As Enid gave you the tour, you half paid attention out of respect for the girl trying to sell Nevermore to you, but all you could think about was the more petite girl standing a few feet behind you. You could feel her eyes burning holes into your back, but you couldn’t face her again, not after everything you’ve been through. There was once a time when you would have laid down your life for Wednesday; now, you could barely breathe the same air as her without getting angry. You knew it was stupid to hold a grudge for this long, but Wednesday was your first and only love, and you would be damned if you let her see you weak again.

When you finished the tour, Enid took you to your room, which was, unfortunately, in Ophelia Hall. “O-M-G! You’re rooming with Yoko! She is my best friend,” Enid announced before looking over at Wednesday, “well, besides Wens, obviously.”

Your heart sank at the nickname for Wednesday. Only you were allowed to call her Wens when you were children, and she barely let you do that. And now, here she was, allowing someone dressed like unicorn vomit to call her that without so much as an idle threat.

“‘Wens?’” You questioned with an eyebrow raised as you looked between the two roommates. You were glad you started to wear your sunglasses again so that neither girl could see the sadness in your eyes. But Wednesday knew you all too well, and she saw how your posture faltered when Enid called her that, and she saw the barely noticeable frown that tugged at your lips. ‘My name should only ever leave your lips,’ Wednesday wanted to say, but she held her tongue.

“Oh, yeah. That’s my nickname for Wednesday. She told me that no one has ever given her one before, so I decided to give her one,” Enid said as she ushered the two girls back to her room, “Come on, I wanna show you mine and Wednesday’s room.”

At the mention of Wednesday never having a nickname, you dropped your fake smile and looked at Wednesday, who was refusing to meet your gaze. ‘Do I mean that little to you where you would erase even our happiest memories?’ You thought when Wednesday finally looked up at you, and for the first time today, you saw emotion in her dark eyes: regret.

“I love the window,” you said as you entered Enid and Wednesday’s room. You loved the contrast between the two girls and how they seemed to get along perfectly; it reminded you of when you were young and Wednesday’s favorite person. Now, the girl barely looked at you.

“Thanks; the first day here, Wednesday took off her side of color and then put tape down to divide our room. And now look at how far we’ve come! I’m like the only one here who Wens actually cares about!”Enid exclaimed as she spun in her circle with her arms outstretched, clearly happy to be buddy-buddy with Wednesday. You nodded your head, trying to push back the tears that weld in your eyes at the mention of Wednesday caring for someone else before your eyes snapped to something on Wednesday’s wall.

“What’s this?” You questioned as you moved to get a closer look at the object that had caught your attention, causing both of the roommates to follow you.

“Oh, that’s one of Wednesday’s favorite weapons. She doesn’t let anyone touch it, not even me,” Enid said as her eyes fell on the sword mounted to the wall above Wednesday’s writing desk. Your eyes scanned over the sheathed sword and fell to the purple handle before you turned and looked at Wednesday. “May I?” You asked in a barely audible voice.

You expected Wednesday to shoot you down before you even finished speaking, but the girl gave you a curt nod, not trusting her voice at this moment. Your hands reached up and took the sword off its mantle, and you slowly took it out of its sheath and set it down on Wednesday’s desk. You turned the sword over and admired the sharp edge as you carefully ran your pointer finger along the blade’s edge; you could easily tell that Wednesday had been sharpening it routinely. Your finger finally made its way to the helm of the sword, and you turned it over and sucked in air as you let out a small chuckle.

You read your initials that were still engraved in the sword before your saddened eyes finally looked up at Wednesday’s guilt-ridden ones. Wednesday thanks the gods that you had your eyes covered, as she knew her heart would have broken ten times over if she saw the sadness in them.

“Well, then,” you said with a shaky breath as you sheathed the sword and placed it back on its mantle, “it’s a beautiful blade, Wednesday.” Your eyes caught something in the corner of Wednesday’s desk, and you felt every single emotion wash over you like waves crashing onto the shore: a small, black crocheted scorpion sat on top of an unopened note. Before you could comment on it, Wednesday’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I know it is,” Wednesday spoke honestly as her eyes danced across your face while you picked up on the double meaning behind her words.

After several seconds of awkward tension, you cleared your throat and walked to the door, “Alright then, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it.”

Wait!” Enid shouted as she skipped over to you with her phone in hand. “Let me get your Snapchat so we can talk some more,” she said as she pulled up Snapchat. You smiled politely as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and opened up Snapchat, and allowed the werewolf to add you, and you accepted her friend request when it popped up.

“I’ll see you later, Enid,” you said as you opened up the door to walk out, but you stopped and turned around to face Wednesday, “see you around sometime, Addams.” As you left, only one thought ran across both of your minds: ‘I can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye.’

When you left the room, Enid immediately turned to face her roommate. “What was that about?” She questioned while staring down at the goth girl.

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” Wednesday replied as she walked over to her desk and began working on her novel. She had emotions come back that she had not felt in nearly ten years, and she needed to get them off her chest, writing out different scenarios of her killing Y/N.

Enid stomped to Wednesday’s desk and turned the small girl around in her chair. She grasped Wednesday’s shoulders and tightly gripped them as she spoke, “Yes, you do. Do not lie to me, Wednesday, or I will paint the side of your hot pink.”

The more petite girl rolled her eyes at her roommate’s comment before prying the hands off her shoulders and returning to her typewriter. “We used to be friends, and now we aren’t; end of story,” Wednesday flatly replied.

“I don’t believe you, I know there’s more to the story, but I won’t pressure you,” Enid defeatedly said as she walked over to her bed and lay down. Of course, she was dying to know the history between you and Wednesday. Still, she would never force Wednesday to talk about something uncomfortable, so she decided to wait it out and see if she could get an answer from either you or Wednesday first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two roommates walked into fencing class and heard the ringing of metal crashing together, and saw that Bianca was in a match with you. The two watched as you blocked Bianca’s advances and matched each of her assaults with double the force, causing the siren to walk backward toward the end of the mat. With one final blow against Bianca’s foil, you cause her to step backward off of the mat and ultimately lose the match.

Bianca let out an angry huff at the loss but shook your hand afterward. “You gave me a nice challenge, and I respect that. I hope to go up against you again soon,” the siren said as she walked off the mat.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky next time and beat me,” you joked as you started to take off your gear when your eyes landed on Wednesday. Before you had moved, you and Wednesday were always in fencing competitions, and it seemed that the two of you were always paired to go against one another. Naturally, you lost every time you went against her, but that was seven years ago, and you spent the past seven years perfecting every little thing that Wednesday was better at.

“Coach Vlad, I was wondering if I could go against someone else before class ends?” You questioned as you stood up. You knew that if you publicly challenged Wednesday that she couldn’t turn it down, and you also knew that she believed she was still the better fencer, so both of those gave you an advantage.

Coach Vlad studied your expression and determined that you only asked to prove a point, so he let you. “Who will you be challenging, miss Y/LN?”

“Addams,” was all you said as you stared at the girl dressed in an all-black fencing attire. Wednesday’s ears perked up at you challenging her, and she knew she would clear you.

“Very well, Wednesday, if you accept the challenge, stand the opposite of Y/N,” Coach Vlad stated with a hint of excitement. He loved watching the way the Addams sparred with his students; she was graceful yet coarse, which reminded him of when he was a student here at Nevermore.

Wednesday walked over to the mat you were standing on, her eyes locked with your covered ones. She wondered what made you wear those sunglasses again, and she missed those eyes she once called home.

“En garde,” Coach Vlad yelled as the atmosphere crackled with tension. The room falls into a reverent silence as the match begins. With grace and precision, you and Wednesday engage in a mesmerizing dance of footwork and technique, each exchange showcasing your guys' skill and determination.

Their moves were swift and calculated, their attacks and defenses fluid, each striving to gain the upper hand. The crowd of students watched in awe as they witnessed a display of finesse and competitive spirit.

Wednesday made the first aggressive move, launching a series of rapid lunges, attempting to catch you off guard. But you proved your prowess with deft parries, countering with swift ripostes that keep Wednesday on her toes.

As the match progressed, the intensity escalated, and their footwork became even more intricate, seeking to exploit any opening in their opponent's defense. The clang of metal echoed through the hall as their foils met in a series of fierce clashes.

Neither competitor gave an inch, their faces showing steely determination. You and Wednesday are evenly matched, your skills complementing each other, creating a mesmerizing spectacle for the crowd.

With each point you and Wednesday scored, your fellow students held their breaths, afraid that if they cheered, it would mess you two up. Yours and Wednesday’s adrenaline surged, and your focus sharpened, all distractions fading away as you two immersed yourselves entirely in the moment.

Time seemed to slow down, the seconds stretching into eternity as the match neared its climax. With one final burst of energy, you executed a daring feint, catching Wednesday off balance. In that split second, you placed your foot on top of Wednesday’s and advanced, causing the more petite girl to fall backward onto the mat. You stood over her and shoved the tip of the foil into her chest armor.

“I appear to be the victor,” you said as you towered over Wednesday before she quickly jumped up from the ground and stormed out of the hall, with you right on her heels.

“That was hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday stated as she stomped toward Ophelia hall. “And stop following me.”

“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you retorted as you quickened your step to walk beside Wednesday. “And I’m not following you; we live in the same hall.”

Wednesday said nothing; she couldn’t argue with the fact you two shared a hallway, but she still didn’t like it. You watched as Wednesday threw her door open and slammed it shut with a smile on your face; it felt good to have that playful banter back.

Naturally, your rivalry with Wednesday continued as if it had never left; you two constantly competed for the correct answers in your classes, and you two refused to fence with anyone else. It became so toxic that teachers started putting you two out in the hallway during class, like little toddlers who were being disruptive.

“I had a marvelous time ruinin’ everything,” you joked with Wednesday as it seemed you two were sitting outside your potions class once more. You had your back pressed against the stone wall next to the door, and Wednesday opted to sit next to you but kept a few feet between you.

“I do suppose ruining the activities of others is tolerable with you,” Wednesday said as she looked over at your beautiful smile that she once loved and felt her own lips twitch upward.

“I know my antics should be celebrated, but I’m glad you tolerate it,” you said once you saw her scary attempt at a smile.

At the week's end, Enid invited you to her room for some “girl talk.” You had no idea what girl talk would involve, but you wouldn’t pass up a chance to piss Wednesday off.

“Welcome to my dreamhouse!” Enid exclaimed as she opened the door and ushered you into her room. You knew it might be ill-tempered to say this, but you were jealous of Enid’s room. You loved the giant window in the center that emitted different colors throughout the room, highlighting and contrasting the two drastically different sides.

You followed Enid to her side and sat down on her bed with her. You allowed the werewolf to paint your nails a dark purple. She asked you questions about your past and what you wanted to do in the future. You told her that Criminal Justice intrigued you and you thought about becoming a detective at some point. In turn, you asked her what her future plans were, and she told you that if her parents allowed her, she would want to explore the world and see all the beauties she offered.

After you two had fallen into a peaceful conversation, she finally asked the question plaguing her mind since you first arrived, “So, how did you get that scar? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You swore you could hear a hairpin drop right when you felt the moment stop. It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room and replaced it with tension. Your eyes shot to Wednesday, who was previously typing on her typewriter but stopped when Enid asked the question. You quietly cleared your throat before speaking, “I, uh… it was my fault. I did something stupid without asking for permission, and I paid the consequences. That’s all.”

Wednesday felt her heart shatter into a million pieces when she heard you blame yourself for what happened. She wanted to run to Enid’s side of the room and tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that she would do anything she could to take it back, to have you back. She felt a single tear run down her cheek as she returned to her novel.

Not believing your story, Enid didn’t say anything else. She knew there was something more to the story, but she didn’t want to pressure you into telling her. “Well, I think it makes you look ten times hotter,” Enid confessed with a sly smile and a wink. She ignored how her hearing picked up on Wednesday’s heartbeat increased with jealousy at the comment.

You slightly chuckled at Enid’s comment before looking at Enid’s own scars that she sometimes tried to cover up. They were out of place on the brightly dressed girl, but it added a hint of toughness and bravery to her look that almost made you laugh. “What about your scars?” You politely asked, but Enid tensed up at your question.

“Oh. I got them from saving Wednesday last year,” she responded quietly as she continued painting your nails. She refused to meet your gaze, and you felt bad for asking about them, but you wanted to know more. “Why do you cover them up then? You shouldn’t be ashamed of your scars; they prove your loyalty to Wednesday.”

A slight grin tugged at Enid’s lips; she had never had anyone, but Wednesday tell her she was brave. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s just,” she paused as she glanced up at you before continuing her work on your hand, “my mother hates them and says I should be ashamed of myself for ruining any chance I have at finding someone.”

“You shouldn’t listen to your mother, Enid. I think those scars are beautiful, and they display your bravery,” you said as you reached up with your hand and gently traced the scar above Enid’s eyebrow. When a small tear fell down Enid’s cheek, you wiped it away and gave her a soft smile, and Enid knew right then that you were the most authentic person she had ever met. No one has ever been this honest with her, and she cherished your friendship.

Enid let a few quiet minutes pass by before she asked you about your first week at Nevermore, and you told her your honest thoughts. You enjoyed the classes but felt that some students cared too much about their social status and that you loved walking in the woods at night, causing the girl to stop painting your left ring finger.

“You do what at night?” Enid questioned harshly as her bright blue eyes stared into your soul.

“I go for midnight strolls by myself. Weems never told me not to.”

Enid scoffed at your words before glaring at Wednesday, who was working on her novel. “Wednesday is actually the reason we can’t walk around at night.”

At the mention of her name, Wednesday straightened her poster and turned around to face you two.

“Do not blame me for the shortcomings of the town sheriff for being unable to keep the people safe from his own son,” the goth girl stated in a threatening manner with an undertone of regret that you picked up on. You noticed the way Wednesday’s eyes seemed to gloss over with anger when she mentioned the sheriff’s son, and you could only assume something happened between them, which caused your heart to stink at the thought.

“I’m not blaming you, Wens. I’m just stating that you and your boy toy did play a part in ruining our time outside at night,” Enid said innocently as she went back to pairing your nails; she didn’t notice how you tensed up, and you're surprised that she didn’t hear your heart break in two. Your heartbroken eyes shoot to Wednesday’s pained ones, and you can practically read the thoughts behind her eyes, ‘I lost myself when I lost you.’

Even though you still had your eyes covered, Wednesday knew what you were thinking, ‘how could you betray me like this?’ You two were children when you last saw each other, but now as almost adults, you knew that all those feelings you felt for each other were more than platonic; it just took you two a lifetime and a half to realize it. As you two stared at each other, you felt all the love you once felt for each other return in an instant; feelings that come back are feelings that never left.

“‘Boy toy?’” You questioned as your eyes refused to leave Wednesday’s. You knew you would only get hurt by asking, but you had to know.

“It was a moment of weakness, Y/N. Nothing more,” Wednesday spoke with emotion for the first time as her voice broke off towards the end. She quickly cleared her throat and excused herself to the balcony with her cello before you had time to respond to her.

When Enid finished up your nails, you two were getting ready to do a face mask when she got a text. “Yes! Ajax just texted me to hang out with him! Is it alright if I leave you here? Or you can go back to your room if you want?” Enid asked as she stood up from her bed; you ignored the name at the top of her screen that read ‘Yoko.’

“I think I’m going to stay here for a while and hang out with Thing but go have fun,” you said with a faint smile as you watched Enid leave. Honestly, you missed Thing almost as much as you missed Wednesday. Anytime Wednesday would be away, and you were over, you would always hang out with Thing, and right now, he was definitely your favorite Addams.

You chatted with Thing over the sound of Wednesday’s cello for nearly twenty minutes as you did his nails and filled him in on what has happened to you in the past seven years. You told him stuff that you would be too afraid to share with Wednesday, not out of trust, but in fear of what she might do to the people that hurt you.

Only when Wednesday’s cello started to pick up and play a heavy melody did you stop talking. You listened to the way the smaller girl seemed to pour all of her emotions into her song, a song that was full of yearning, hurt, and regret. You listened as there was a slight shift in the music that resembled anger and frustration before turning into a declaration of love. And when the song finally ended on a note that sounded like longing, you got up and walked out to the balcony.

“That was a lovely song,” you said as you walked past Wednesday and rested your elbows against the balcony edge.

Wednesday gave you a quiet ‘mhm’ as a response as she set her cello to the side and joined you at the stone railing, making sure to keep five feet between you for homosexual purposes.

The two of you quietly enjoyed the starry night with a crescent moon above you.

“The sky is so beautiful tonight,” you said, gazing at the stars and moon with your sunglasses still on.

“It is,” Wednesday agreed, but she wasn’t looking up at the sky at all.

When you looked down at Wednesday, she was already staring at you with a tiny glint in her eyes. She subconsciously moved closer to you til she was standing a few inches away from you, and she slowly reached her hands up to take your glasses off. You turned to face her, quickly backing away, and put a foot between you two, “the fuck are you doing?”

“Take it off,” Wednesday stated in a dry tone.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this ‘nerdy girl takes off her glasses and everyone finds out she’s actually really hot’ will not work on you,” you replied with sass in your voice.

“No, it won’t because you are not attractive in the slightest way,” Wednesday retorted while still staring into your soul.

“Thank you, Addams.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I know,” you said with a smile as you turned and leaned your elbows on the railing once more and continued staring at the stars. “You are my compact companion, after all,” you teased.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at comment; it felt like it was a lifetime again when she would call you that, and now you turned it against her. She had to agree with you, it was an awful nickname.

“All the pretty stars shine for you, my love,” you said after a couple of minutes had passed. “it’s from a song,” you added to clear up any confusion that might have been stirred.

Wednesday looked over at you, but you still had your eyes fixed on the sky, but she noticed how your hand slowly inched toward her own, and she picked up on the double meaning as she placed her palm over the back of your hand. She gave your hand three gentle squeezes before returning inside with her cello.

After that night, you two continued with your rivalry, of course, but something had changed that worried Wednesday. She didn’t know what that change was, but she felt it like a gentle shift in the air before a big storm; she knew something had changed between you two, but she didn’t know what.

On Tuesday of the following week, Nevermore was hosting an archery tournament that lasted all day that you and Wednesday were competing in. As the day dragged out, numerous Nevermore students were booted from the competition, and when it came down to the final two competitors, no one was surprised when they saw you line up next to Wednesday.

“I think I’ve seen this film before,” you said as you grabbed an arrow and notched it before slightly pulling back on the string. The memories of your last archery competition came flooding back as you watched the beautiful girl to the left of you grab an arrow.

“And I didn’t like the ending,” Wednesday finished as she notched her arrow, drew, and let it loose, nailing the target's bullseye. You scoffed at her words before drawing back your arrow and firing, hitting the bullseye a few centimeters away from Wednesday’s.

As the contest continued, you and Wednesday engaged in a back-and-forth display of remarkable archery skills. Each shot was precise, and the competition grew fiercer with every arrow released. The crowd of students that had formed around you two was captivated, witnessing a display of talent that would mold the archery competitions of Nevermore for ages.

As the final round approached, you and Wednesday were neck and neck. The tension was palpable, and the spectators held their breath in anticipation. You looked over your left shoulder at Wednesday as you notched and drew your arrow. The smaller girl’s eyes stared into your covered ones, and you saw the way her eyes danced across your face as if she was trying to place a curse on you.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from Wednesday and looked at your target before you slightly lowered the tip of your bow; it was so unnoticeable that no one picked up on it besides the girl who was soul bound to you.

You let the arrow loose and smiled slightly when you saw it hit the outer ring. Wednesday sent you a slight glance before drawing back on her arrow and letting it fly, nailing it right in the center of the bullseye.

The crowd around them let out a few cheers and applause as Weems got the trophies ready. “I knew you could do it, roomie!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped over to Wednesday and gently shook the girl’s shoulders. Wednesday nodded her head at Enid before she walked onto the makeshift sports pedestal podium for first and second. She stepped onto the stage for first and watched as you stood on the one for second, and you sent her a smile that confirmed everything she needed: you threw the match for her.

When Weems handed you two your trophies, you had a giant smile as people took your picture, while Wednesday bore an uncomfortable expression.

“I appear to be the victor,” Wednesday said as you two walked back to Ophelia Hall together. The sun was just setting, and the light seeped into the hallway, creating a romantic lighting that seemed a bit on the nose for you.

“It appears so,” you replied with a gentle smile as you flipped your trophy around and read the words “2nd place winner” underneath your name.

Wednesday scoffed at your comment before glaring up at your towering figure. “You aren’t going to finish the saying?”

You tapped your pointer finger on your chin, acting as if you were thinking profoundly. “Why would I? You didn’t cheat,” you said honestly and dropped your hand back down to your side.

“No, but you threw the match,” Wednesday said as she approached her door with you a few paces behind her. She wanted nothing more than to bring you inside and cherish you, but she would never stoop to her mother’s way of life.

“If I am capable of such an outlandish thing, I’m sure I would not do that just so you-of all people-could win,” you said with a serious tone but your smile told Wednesday you were joking and it made her cold, black heart ache for something for had felt once and only with you.

Deciding against her better judgment, Wednesday set her trophy on the ground, and before you had time to ask her what she was doing, her left hand gently grabbed your neck and pulled down as she stood on her tippy-toes to place a chaste kiss on your cheek. Your entire body heated up at the contact, and a smile overtook your face. The kiss lasted longer than it should have, as Wednesday’s lips lingered on your cheek as if she was making you a promise that she would one day taste your lips.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Wednesday said as she picked up her trophy and entered her room, closing the door on your shell-shocked expression. You had butterflies dancing in your stomach as you walked back to your room with a gentle smile on your face and went to sleep with the thought of Wednesday’s lips against your skin. As you drifted off to sleep, Wednesday stayed up all night writing out the way you made her stomach feel like a thousand spiders lived there and the way your hair warmed her black heart. She once vowed to push you away to avoid the pain of losing you, but every waking moment she spent without you had caused her to feel that pain tenfold. Even if she would lose you at the end of your lives, at least she would have had the honor of calling you hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The eerie gothic ballroom was cloaked in darkness, dimly lit by flickering candlelight that cast haunting shadows upon the ancient stone walls. Heavy velvet drapes, tinged with a rich deep crimson, adorned the tall arched windows, adding a sense of mystery and opulence. Gothic-style chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, their twisted metal work resembling gnarled branches, and their candelabras emitting a spectral glow. The air is filled with a subtle scent of incense, adding to the mysterious ambiance of the room as Wednesday prepared to entire the ballroom.

It was the Grimoire Soiree, Nevermore’s official gothic ball, that was hosted at the end of the Fall semester every year. Wednesday was naturally intrigued when she heard of a gothic ball and believed attending one might add a new element to her novel, including murder. Still, now, as she watched her peers walk into the ballroom, she felt out of place. Her heart yearned for the one who wouldn’t be attending.

It had been several months since the archery contest, and you and Wednesday had not talked to each other. Neither of you knew what to say, but you both wanted to say everything. You two continued with your rivalry, but there was a shift in the air when you two competed against each other, like you two were silently rooting for the other, and it gnawed at both of your hearts.

Deciding to face the music and the calling of her heart, Wednesday walked down the stairs and entered the room.

The polished black marble floors, etched with intricate patterns, mirror the gloomy setting as if reflecting the dark secrets concealed within the ballroom's history that enticed Wednesday. Elaborate gargoyles and stone statues of long-forgotten figures stood sentinel in the corners, their solemn expressions lending an air of solemnity to the space. Crimson roses, tinged with black, were carefully arranged in vases throughout the room, their haunting beauty contrasting with the darkness surrounding them.

As the haunting melody of a haunting organ filled the air, the students of Nevermore were clad in elaborate gothic attire and moved with an aura of elegance and enigma. The atmosphere was both haunting and enchanting, transporting the attendees to a realm of forgotten tales and otherworldly delights that overwhelmed Wednesday. Just as she was about to leave, an overly happy voice exclaimed, “Wednesday! You look amazing!”

The smaller girl wore a mesmerizing black gothic ball gown that is a sight of dark enchantment, featuring a flowing skirt that gracefully grazes the ground. Small black accents on the skirt add a touch of intricate detailing, enhancing its allure. The black corset, elegantly laced in the front, complements the gown's bewitching aesthetic and leads to long, puffy sleeves that exude an air of Victorian charm.

A small cutout on the chest, just above the corset, added a daring yet sophisticated touch, leaving a hint of mystery while maintaining an elegant appeal. The gown encapsulated a perfect blend of gothic elegance and captivating allure, making it an ideal choice for Wednesday's hauntingly beautiful ballroom event.

Wednesday turned around, and she noticed that her flamboyant roommate, who usually wore bright, borderline blinding colors, was in a darker-colored ball gown. The ball gown itself was a mesmerizing creation, enveloped in an enchanting dark purple hue that exudes an air of mystery and sophistication. It had a black corset adorned with dark purple accents that added an element of striking contrast, enhancing its captivating allure. Its intricate lacework and velvet accents add an extra layer of elegance. At the same time, its flowing silhouette gracefully captures the essence of gothic charm, something that Wednesday had never seen on Enid before.

The gown caught Wednesday off guard, and she believed that Enid somehow pulled it off, highlighting her piercing blue eyes that would blind anyone. Wednesday might have even given Enid some form of a compliment, but she knew that Enid didn’t need that kind of ego inflation.

“I appreciate your words, Enid. And you,” Wednesday wanted to be nice tonight but struggled with the words, “Do not look ridiculous.”

The werewolf beamed at her roommate's words, and a smile formed from cheek to cheek. “Awww! Thank you, Wens!” Enid said as she turned to walk toward Ajax but then suddenly turned back to Wednesday as if she had forgotten something. “Oh, and your lover was looking for you earlier; she said she has something to tell you.” And with that, Enid disappeared into the crowd of dancing students with Ajax. Wednesday’s cold heart picked up at the mention of you wanting to talk to her and beat rapidly against her chest. Her eyes scanned the room for you as an all too familiar saxophone interrupted the organ.

As if it was magic, Wednesday’s dark eyes immediately found your heterochromia ones in the vast sea of swirling gowns and powdered faces. You were standing on the opposite side of the room, wearing a gothic suit that consisted of a slightly ruffled white shirt, adding a touch of romanticism to the ensemble. Over the shirt, there was a black cavalier vest adorned with mesmerizing purple tapestry, creating a captivating contrast of colors and textures. Completing the look was a sleek black jacket, lending an air of sophistication and dark allure. The suit is further enhanced by a small yet elegant collar chain featuring a black scorpion on both collars, adding a subtle yet distinctive element of gothic charm to the overall attire.

Put on your Bobbi-sox baby

Pull up your old blue jeans

There’s a band playin’ down at the armory

Know’s what rock and roll really means

You two gravitated towards each other at a slow pace before picking up as your hearts quickened with excitement, and soon, you two were standing face to face. “Hi,” you said breathlessly as you got lost in Wednesday’s eyes.

“Hi,” she replied as she looked into your beautiful eyes for the first time in seven years. She had forgotten just how beautiful they were; the green eye seemed to dance with the room's lighting while the gray one gave Wednesday a feeling of comfort, the dark color reminding her of her own material home in New Jersey.

I want to bop with you baby, all night long

I want to bop the night away

I want to make it a night like it used to be

“May I have this dance?” You asked as you slowly started to do ‘The Twist’ from Pulp Fiction. Wednesday smiled and began doing Uma Thurman’s part of the dance as if you two were just six years old again and dancing in Wednesday’s room. You two smiled and joked the entire dance and felt the whole room disappear as the song drew to a close. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked when the dance was finished as you stuck out your hand and slightly bowed, just as you did ten years ago.

“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday replied when the room began waltzing to the beautiful melody of ‘Merry-Go-Round of Life,’ but she took your hand. You placed your free hand just underneath her shoulder blade as her spare hand rested upon the shoulder of the arm that was under her shoulder blade. As the music played, Wednesday allowed you to lead the dance and found herself in a trance as she stared into your beautiful eyes that she missed.

“Stop staring into my soul,” you commented as you spun around with Wednesday.

She huffed at your words and playfully stepped on your foot before continuing the dance. “I’m not staring into your soul; I am just admiring your breathtaking eyes,” she confessed honestly while you two continued your fluid movements. “Why did you start covering them again?”

You tensed up at her words but continued with the graceful dance. “The only person who found beauty in them was gone,” you said shyly as you gave Wednesday a tight-lipped smile. The smaller girl frowned at your words; she didn’t know what to say without confessing her undying love for you. So she stayed quiet and let her eyes drift over to the scar on your face and let regret and pain wash over her like waves on the shoreline. “I never meant to hurt you,” Wednesday mumbled out as she let the pain show on her face. You were her best friend, her soulmate, and her home, and even though she didn’t know that it was either you or no one when she was just a child, she now wanted to wrap you in her arms and never let anything or anyone harm you again; even if that meant protecting you from herself.

So, she dropped your hand while dancing and left you out there standing. Crestfallen on the landing as Wednesday left you in the ballroom and disappeared outside.

You snapped out of your disappointed state and were quick on her heels as you followed her outside. “Wednesday, what’s wrong?” You asked as you followed her to a water fountain and watched her sit down on the side.

She was sick to her stomach; she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she had an internal battle with her heart and brain. Her brain told Wednesday to run in the opposite direction, never to talk to you again. But her heart was telling her to run toward you, to embrace you with her loving heart that seemed to only beat for you. She felt nauseous as her thoughts bounced around; what if you didn’t feel the same way toward her? The last time you two were friendly with each other was almost eleven years ago when you guys were six. What if by showing you this much softer side of her, you reject her and use her weakness as a spear to her chest? Nearly killing her but leaving her alive just enough to continue living a life of nothingness. Your heart was glass, and she dropped it.

But what if you felt the same? What if your heart only beat for her, and you would rather die than not have been able to call her yours? All the moments you two spent at each other’s throats during competitions as you sent her little glances and silently prayed she would win so that you could see her eyes light up.

“Enid said you had something to say to me, Y/N,” Wednesday finally spoke as her thoughts ran rapidly in her mind. She needed to know what you wanted to say to her; she could not die in peace without knowing.

You stared at the alluring girl who refused to meet your eyes. There were thousands of things you wanted to tell her, but you didn’t know how. “Wednesday, there’s things I wanna say to you, but I’ll just let you live,” you said quietly as Wednesday’s eyes finally met yours. Wednesday dryly laughed at your words as her eyes glossed over with tears. The last time she had cried was because she lost you, and now, she was crying because she had finally found you. All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation, was killing her. Wednesday’s hands were shaking from holding back from you. When you said her name, everything just stopped; she didn’t want you like a best friend.

Wednesday’s eyes darted across your face, looking for anything resembling rejection. When she found only love and longing in your ocean eyes, she took in a deep breath and spoke in a broken voice, “I used to look at you and see my best friend, and now I can hardly look at you without picturing our bones resting together in a grave dug for two. I left you in there because I cannot live without knowing if it meant more to you too as well. I would rather die than bear these feelings alone.”

The words that left Wednesday’s lips took you off guard; you had a speech, and now you’re speechless. “What do you mean by that, Wednesday? Are you telling me that you have feelings for me?” You asked with disbelief on your face; you needed to know if she was confessing her love for you, but you weren’t quite sure if that’s what she meant.

“The sun rises and sets with your smile. At least it does for me. You’re the only thing on this planet worth worshipping. In simpler terms: I want you. I’ve always wanted you. It just took me ten years to realize it. I’m your jazz singer, and you’re my cult leader,” Wednesday confessed as she stared into your eyes, already accepting rejection.

“Wednesday, you don’t have to bear those feelings alone,” you stated with a sigh of relief. Wednesday’s eyes smiled for her as she pushed herself off the fountain, and slowly walked toward you. She stopped a few feet in front, giving you space to run away if you desired.

“I once had someone tell me I was destined to be alone, but I would like to be alone with you. If I’m enough - if you want me, if you’ll have me - I’m yours, only yours, Y/N,” Wednesday admitted with a silent prayer.

“Wednesday, I have only wanted you since we were kids. I only wanted you as a best friend then, but now, when I look at you, I only see my other half. I would rather die than not be able to call you mine, even if it’s just for a second.”

Slowly, Wednesday stepped to you until you were close enough to touch, begging you to make the first move she has always been afraid to take. “For the past ten years, I have been trying to form a way to apologize for the way I treated you, but every time I come up with something, I only see you in that hospital bed,” Wednesday admitted.

You gently reached out to Wednesday’s hand and brought it to your cheek. You gave a small kiss on the palm of her hand before moving it to cup your cheek as your free hand wiped away the lone tear that fell down Wednesday’s cheek. “I forgive you, Wednesday. I had forgiven you the moment I moved; I thought I would never see you again,” you whispered with tears in your eyes as you brought your forehead against Wednesday’s.

Wednesday sighed in relief as she brought up her other hand and cupped your cheeks. You pulled back from her, and Wednesday wanted to cry. You placed a kiss on her forehead that felt like a promise, then kissed her nose, silently telling her everything will be alright, another on her cheek that felt like you would wait however long for her, and finally, you kissed her lips with so much love Wednesday almost died. She let a small, choked-up gasp escape her lips before gently kissing you back. For the first time in ten years, you both finally felt at home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A blanket of snow fell upon the Addams’ residence that coated the peaceful house as Morticia Addams shot up in bed. She gasped for breath as her eyes panicky shot around the room.

The action woke Gomez up, and he reached over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp before reaching out to his wife. “Cara mia, what’s wrong?” He asked with worry laced in his voice, but his worry faded when he saw a giant smile plastered on Morticia’s face that accompanied the tears of joy in her eyes.

She wrapped her arms around her husband and pulled him against her, in complete disbelief at the vision she just had of her daughter. She pulled back from the embrace before exclaiming, “Our darling viper has found someone to share her grave with!”

Gomez lit up with excitement at the mention of Wednesday having a lover; words could not express his joy when his daughter finally fell to the Addams Family Curse. “My love, this is dreadful news! I cannot wait to meet them,” he said with a smile on his face.

Morticia laughed at her husband's words before placing a hand on his cheek and stroking it with her thumb. “Don’t worry, Gomez. You have known her since she was a child.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: if you recognized ‘the sun rises and sets with your smile’ quote, I love you so much 🫶

#wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday #enemies to lovers

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honey-flustered · 2 months

Text

Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fullg by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

683 notes · View notes

halfvalid · 7 months

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a live action Zoro smut where it's enemies to lovers (boy X girl). I don't mind how hardcore smut (18+?) but I would love if there was some tension (argument or fight!) 😁

speak teeth

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

alternate title: i need the lord

rating: explicit

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: you and zoro have never gotten along. after a incident in town escaping from marines, you resolve to sort out your issues with unconventional means. (aka sex.)

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, enemies to lovers, except it's more like frenemies to frenemies with benefits, kissing, kiss to distract trope, no use of “y/n”, reader calls zoro "roronoa", penis in vagina sex, creampie, pwp, cowgirl position

author’s note: thanks for the request! i kind of lost the plot on this one because i'm terrible at writing enemies-to-lovers and there's not much 'lovers' involved in this since i couldn't exactly fit that into a oneshot. hopefully you still like it anyway? i tried my best.

tags make it seem so much worse than it actually is.

Roronoa Zoro did not like you.

The feeling was mutual, so you didn’t mind the fact, really. Zoro was annoying, with his three swords, and that stupid low voice, and how he never seemed interested in conversation unless it was either about alcohol or beating someone up. You were undoubtedly annoying to him for various reasons not so different in number to your own grievances of his personality. You two didn’t like each other. It was fine. It was normal.

It was pissing off the rest of the Straw Hat crew.

In your defense, you were never outwardly aggressive towards the man. You didn’t purposely exclude him from conversations or avoid looking at him if he dared haunt a room you were in with his presence. You just… didn’t speak to him unless spoken to. And maybe you had a tendency to roll your eyes or mutter some insults when he was talking, but it wasn’t that big of an issue.

Zoro, on the other hand, was a master of discord. He’d killed and hunted so many people it only made sense for him to be, but it seemed he hadn’t skipped his lessons in petty fights either. Because he was bullheaded and a buzzkill and always opened his big mouth when you were around. Those sarcastic remarks of his were common, sure, but when you were in the room they were tenfold and laced with genuine venom.

You weren’t sure who’d even started the strife between you two. It had been so long that you’d forgotten. While everyone else had seemingly bonded after your journey together, you and Zoro remained firmly in the stage you’d been while trapped in Buggy’s green room—antagonistic. Obviously you didn’t hate each other—when Zoro had nearly died to Mihawk, you hadn’t been happy—but you didn’t get along, and both of you were just fine with that arrangement.

Nobody else was, though.

And so obviously you didn’t like it when Luffy announced, as you were docked, that you were assigned to scout the surrounding village together. Your lips twisted, but you refrained from saying anything up until Luffy finished his speech with: “And that’s the plan! Any objections?”

There were head shakes from all around the deck of the Going Merry. You eyed Zoro in the very corner—his arms were crossed, and carefully he raised a hand, just barely lifting it into the air as he motioned. “Why is she coming with me?”

You bit your tongue, suppressing the irritated sigh that threatened to escape. “Because,” Luffy said, bright as ever, “You two need to learn how to be friends. Think of it as a bonding activity!”

“I’d really rather go with Sanji,” you optioned, trying to be more civil than Zoro at least. “He could use a hand carrying the stock barrels.”

“Nope,” Luffy chirped. “It makes most sense for the two of you to be the one to buy the weapons, anyway.”

“He’s right. You both are the most knowledgeable on the subject,” Nami whispered, though she gave you an apologetic look. You sighed. Zoro opted to say nothing.

“Fine. Let’s go, Roronoa,” you said, getting up off the Going Merry’s railing to start walking off the ship. You heard Zoro grumble from behind you, but he soon caught up. You said absolutely nothing to each other for the first few minutes of walking, keeping to yourselves until you eventually reached the market.

“What kind of weapons are we looking for?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the man who trailed just barely behind you. “I know Luffy wants backups, but did he say specifically what?”

“Probably a few guns, maybe some swords,” Zoro replied. “A katana for me. Extra staff for Nami, in case hers breaks.”

“Right. Nami gave me five-hundred thousand berry. Let’s spend it wisely. No pit stops.”

Zoro gave you a look. “It’s not like I’m going to slip into the nearest tavern and abandon you. Luffy said we go together, so we go together.”

“Right.” You turned away so you could roll your eyes in private. You had to appreciate that, at least; Zoro’s loyalty to Luffy at least meant he wouldn’t be a bitch to you if Luffy told him not to, and Nami kept you more or less under wraps too. “Pistols first. Let’s just get two, and save the rest for a sword because those are more pricey.”

Focusing on business was fine. You could be a responsible adult and not be petty. And it really did go okay for the first half-hour, wherein you bartered one of the weapons sellers down to a reasonable price for two pistols and also picked up a bo staff on the way.

You were just heading towards another district of the town when Zoro slowed to a stop. You glanced over to see what he was looking at—a wall pasted with bounty posters, various pirates plastered on paper with big numbers shouting out their worth.

“Look, it’s Luffy,” you said, eyes catching a bundle of posters near the top. Sure enough, all six members of the Straw Hat crew were there. You noticed with distaste that Zoro’s bounty was higher than yours.

Zoro tore all of the posters off, and you were almost surprised when he took yours off too. He crumpled them up into balls, about to toss them behind his shoulder before you grabbed them, carefully tucking them away in your bag. “What’s that for?” he asked.

“So I can shoot darts at your face,” you replied. “Come on. Should finish and get back to the ship before anyone recognizes us.”

Zoro shrugged, but followed you as you led him to the closest armory you could find. The shop was small and rickety, and a silver bell announced your presence as you entered the building. There were blades of every kind in the shop; you could see a table of knives and daggers, along with a stand full of long swords by the front. Near the back, you glimpsed some hanging rapiers, and—

“Katanas,” Zoro muttered, pushing past you to slip to the back of the store. You sighed, but followed, glancing over the array of jians instead. Zoro was already picking one up and pulling it out of its sheath, checking the quality of the blade.

“Don’t—” you hissed, and he glanced up at you, brow raised in question as he spun the blade around in his hand. “You’re going to knock something over.”

Zoro sheathed the sword, a satisfying click filling the room with the motion. “Calm down.”

“I am calm,” you snapped. “If you’d just stop stomping around with those big boots of yours, though—”

Zoro looked far less affected by the entire ordeal than you did, and that pissed you off even more. Logically, you knew he didn’t show much emotion in general, and even his annoyances tended to be deep and quiet—but still. He strung the katana back up where it belonged. “I am not stomping.”

“Yes, you are—” You cut yourself off as the bell of the store rang again, announcing the arrival of more patrons. These two were whispering to each other, gruff voices that sounded almost scared. “He came in here, right?” One of them asked the other. “Are you sure it’s him?”

“He tore down his own wanted poster!” The other hissed back.

You caught onto what was happening quickly, letting a sigh out from between your teeth and grabbing onto Zoro’s arm to yank him further back into the store. You turned a corner, where a narrow hall cut off at a dead end, a wardrobe of swords blocking off the area to any prying eyes. “Now look at what you did,” you grumbled, before you could stop yourself. “You’ve got fucking bounty hunters after us.” You glanced through the stands of swords for a double take—the pair were standing at the front, outfitted in familiar white-and-blue uniforms. “Scratch that, even worse. Marines.”

“I can take them in a fight,” Zoro muttered, hand going to his swords. You grabbed his wrist and gave him a look.

“No. We’re not due to leave the docks for another two days,” you snapped. “Can you figure out a way to get out of a situation without stabbing someone?”

“How can you be sure it was him, though? The Demon?” The more timid marine asked. They’d started moving, and you shoved Zoro into the corner, attempting to hide his ridiculously broad figure with an armoire of weapons. He scoffed, but made no move to adjust, back flat against the wall.

“He had the three swords. And the three earrings, too. Of course it was him,” the other one replied. You rolled your eyes.

“Ever try being a little less obvious, Roronoa?” you muttered, shooting another glare in Zoro’s direction. “You’re like a flashing red light for every marine within a two-mile radius with your stupid swords. I’m Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter!”

“I don’t hear you yelling at Luffy to take his hat off,” Zoro hissed back.

“They’re coming this way,” you answered, entirely ignoring his retort. “Hide your stupid swords. Shove them behind a stand or something.”

“I don’t see why we can’t just—”

“No fighting.” You swiveled around, tugging his holsters off his belt and tossing the swords behind him with a graceless clatter. Zoro just sighed. “Shit,” you muttered as the marines turned at the noise, starting to move towards the back of the store.

“Now look at what you did,” Zoro mumbled, mocking your words straight back at you. You glared at him.

“Shut up and stay put,” you snapped. “Let me think of something.” The marines were coming closer, and you huffed out a nervous breath. Zoro watched you from his position.

“They know your face, too,” he said carefully. Almost derisively, like he was looking down on your idea; making you seem stupid. “Just let me fight them. It makes the most sense.” The footsteps grew louder, then, the marines moving towards the back of the store.

“I think I heard voices,” one of them muttered to the other. You shushed Zoro, unconsciously moving closer to him until your arm bumped into his. You startled, and then looked up, finding Zoro’s chest just inches away from your face.

“Is this some new sort of hiding tactic?” Zoro asked, voice dry as a desert. “Are you trying to melt us into the wall—”

The voices tapered off as the marines moved closer. Your hand shot up to cradle Zoro’s face, covering his dangling gold earrings with your fingers to hide them away. “Fuck this,” Zoro muttered, leaning back to pick up his swords. You shushed him, and he stopped, bent halfway over you so your faces were just inches apart.

“Just trust me,” you snapped. Zoro opened his mouth to argue, but then the marines’ footsteps got louder—they’d turn the corner any moment now.

“Fine,” he breathed. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m taking out my swords.”

Your mind ran a million miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. The marines were just around the corner now, and your breath caught, eyes meeting Zoro’s as you wracked your brain for something, anything that might distract the marines away from the two of you. Zoro’s lips parted, a split-second away from undoubtedly whispering some grand insult when the marines finally turned the corner.

You were kissing Zoro before you could even think.

“Oh,” one of the marines said, as your fingers nearly pinched Zoro’s earlobe, still covering his earrings. Zoro was frozen for a moment, but the marines behind you seemed startled enough that he realized it was working. A rush of satisfaction filled you for a moment—see, Roronoa, you don’t have to stab shit all the time—before Zoro was kissing you back.

And. Well. You’d started it, but you had not anticipated this.

Zoro was almost rough, his hand curling around the nape of your neck and tugging you down closer to him. His other hand came to rest on your waist, so impossibly big around your torso that you shivered. What had started out as a simple kiss slipped into one all messy, your breaths coming out in sharp gasps as Zoro barely gave you a moment to breathe.

His teeth dug into your lip, and you groaned into his mouth, tongue darting along his gums with the motion. He snickered at that, and you felt a little bundle of vexation starting at the pit of stomach at the sound. You ran your tongue into the crevices of his mouth, licking into him with ease. Another rush of satisfaction filled you as Zoro’s grip tightened on your waist. You were winning.

He fought back just as hard, practically merciless as his tongue slid against yours, prying into your mouth like he was trying to bare you empty of secrets. You felt stripped raw like this, but it wasn’t a terrible feeling—the opposite, actually, soft whimpers leaving your lungs as he dug more fiercely into you. Zoro sucked on your lower lip with teeth, and you barely managed to suppress the stuttered sound it tugged out from the back of your throat.

There were hasty footsteps receding somewhere behind you, which was the only sound that snapped you out of your motions. You were the first to break away—another score gained there—glancing over your shoulder to ensure the marines had really left before fully detaching yourself from Zoro. The silver bell rung again, signaling the marines had made their exit, and you let out a relieved sigh.

Zoro glanced over your shoulder, straightening his clothes as his tongue ran along his top teeth. The top teeth you’d had your tongue on just seconds ago. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.”

“I did not—” You sucked in a breath, all your general irritated feelings towards the man coming back at full force with just that one sentence. “Shut the fuck up. I got us out of the situation, didn’t I?”

“You have questionable methods,” Zoro replied, leaning over to pick up his abandoned swords and strap them back along his hip. “Don’t think about that all night.”

“You were not that good of a kisser,” you snapped, though you could feel your face getting hot. Your mouth tingled, like you could still taste him on your tongue; on your teeth; in your gums. There was a vaguely empty sensation at the curve of your waist you tried your best to ignore. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Roronoa. Now pick a sword to buy so we can leave already.”

Zoro seemed irritated, but he complied, brushing past you to inspect a few more of the swords before picking out one. You paid for it as quickly as possible, in a rush to get back to the ship; not even trying to talk the salesman down from his price like you usually would.

Zoro followed you languidly, absolutely nothing urgent about his motions as you trailed after you back through the village. You wanted to uppercut him so badly.

“Oh, there you guys are,” Usopp said upon stepping foot back onto the Going Merry. You shot him an apologetic smile before breezing past, beelining for your bedroom without a second thought. “Uh—okay! You good?” he called after you, but you were too far away to respond at this point.

You slammed the door of your room shut upon entering, heaving out a breath of jumbled emotion all in one go. Fuck Roronoa Zoro and his three stupid swords and his three stupid earrings. He was the most lumbering, bullheaded oaf you’d ever had the displeasure of engaging with.

He’d been a ridiculously good kisser. Now you hated him even more.

You locked yourself in your room for the next four hours, busying yourself with various tasks whilst simultaneously seething over Zoro. It wasn’t even that he’d done anything specifically to you in the past. You just—didn’t get along, really. He was irritating, and stupid, and always tried to solve his problems with a blade rather than attempting to use his wits. Not that he had any wits of any kind. He was—

He was, as you were starting to find out, kind of attractive. Which. Okay. You’d known his face was at least easy on the eyes, despite his personality and general attitude not retaining the same qualities. But this was an entirely unappreciated development.

Someone knocked on your door, snapping you out of your irritated haze. The sun had nearly set, a kiss of dusk coming in from outside as you shuffled over to the door. You yanked it open. “What—”

Zoro was standing in the doorway, arm propped against the side and keeping your door open even as you attempted to close it on him. “Roronoa.”

“You’re hiding,” Zoro said, a tinge of mirth just barely visible in his eyes. You glared at him.

“I am not.”

“Do you have to disagree with everything I say?” Zoro asked. He was still wearing his swords even now, though he’d dressed down as the hour grew late. “You skipped dinner.”

“Leave me alone,” you muttered.

Zoro took that as an invitation to step fully into the room. “I told the rest of the crew about the marines,” he said, and you flinched. “Not about that. Just that we got away. Nami wants to leave tomorrow evening now, so we’ll be busy.”

You stared at him, suspicious right from the start. “And you care enough to tell me? Did someone put you up to this?”

Zoro stiffened. “I just thought you might want to know.”

Your eyes narrowed. He looked as normal as ever—face blank, leaving no expression to be seen. But his muscles were tenser than usual, and the veins running up his arm were prominent, like his hand was tightened into a fist where it hid away in his pocket. “You have ulterior motives.”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoro muttered, but he didn’t budge. You scoffed.

“What, are you here to admit that you were wrong and my plan really did get us away from the marines?” you asked, voice sugary sweet as you riled him up. His jaw clenched, a vein tracing up his neck bulging with the pressure. “You don’t need to inflate my ego—”

Zoro moved across the room swiftly, and you stumbled back in surprise as he pinned you to the wall, hand tight around your arm. Your words died in your throat as his lips sealed over yours with a bruising kiss. His fingers dug into the skin of your bicep—tight, but not tight enough to hurt.

“I don’t need to inflate your ego,” Zoro snapped, finishing your sentence from where it’d died on your lips. “You do that enough yourself.”

You stared at him, the tingle of his lips still left as an afterthought on your mouth. “If you’re going to make out with me, take your fucking swords off.”

Zoro barely suppressed an eye roll, hands working at his belt to slide his holsters off from his hip. “What’s your problem with them?”

“I think your emotional dependency on a bunch of oversized butter knifes—”

Zoro’s head jerked up, eyes dark when they met yours. “Don’t call them that.”

You couldn’t resist the quip off your tongue. “You asked.”

Zoro slowly made his way across the room again, steps careful and languid as he moved closer. “I take it back,” he said, voice a near whisper, every word crisp on his tongue. You shivered.

This time, you expected it when he kissed you. He wasn’t careful with it, and you didn’t want it any other way—your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him down closer to you. It got aggressive quick, his fingers coming down to clutch your waist, one of your hands tight around the locks of his hair as you pried open his mouth with your tongue.

Neither of you complied easily, both trying to get the better of the other. Zoro’s tongue forced itself into your mouth before you tugged on his lower lip with teeth. Both his hands came to wrap around your waist, now, hoisting you up and onto your hanging bed in the center of the room. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises.

Zoro abandoned your mouth in favor of your neck, biting open-mouthed kisses into your jawline before moving down your jugular. Each one was more hasty than the last, wet and warm with licks of tongue and scrapes of teeth. You didn’t bother moving to give him better access—he had to do that himself, a large hand coming to rest on the back of your skull and pulling your head back to bare the rest of your neck to him. You heard him mutter something in Japanese—probably some obscenity, which pleased you more than you’d like to admit.

His kisses stopped at the hinge of your neck and shoulder, Zoro pausing to lean over and work his fingers up your spine. They danced over the clasp of your shirt, and you had to choke back a wry laugh, surprised. “I thought the Demon just took what he wanted,” you murmured.

Zoro didn’t seem to like that. He started unfastening the buttons going down the back of your top. “At least I was polite enough to ask,” he muttered.

“Just take my clothes off already,” you said, and he stopped his work, leaning back to glare into your eyes. You let out an annoyed sigh, and he rolled his eyes, going back to what he’d been doing. “Are we going to talk about it?” you asked, eyeing Zoro’s chest in front of you.

You pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking at the skin before grazing it ever-so-slightly with your teeth. His throat hitched under your mouth.

“Nope,” he grunted, finally unclasping the last button and pulling your top over your head. Since you didn’t have an issue with that arrangement, you didn’t say anything, even as Zoro practically shoved you flat on your back.

“Rude,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t bother apologizing; he just leaned down to take your breast in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple. You weren’t fast enough to suppress your gasp this time—a point in Zoro’s favor then, one you allowed with a bitter taste on your tongue. Zoro’s mouth formed a smile against your skin. You brought your knee up between his legs, shoving into his crotch in retaliation.

“Stop,” Zoro hissed, the consonants of the words brushing across your skin when he spoke. You ignored him, and he let out a groan, hand clamping around your thigh to keep you from moving. “Do you have to be such a brat?”

“I am not a brat.” You hooked your ankle around his, causing him to slip from where he lay suspended above you, mouths mashing in another too-aggressive facsimile of a kiss. “You’re just a gigantic manwhore with an overinflated ego.”

“You did not just call me—” You shut him up with another kiss, teeth digging deep into the inner gums of his lip. You ran your hands up the sides of Zoro’s figure, trying your hardest to ignore the stiff muscles of his ribcage. He wasn’t that well-built. He wasn’t even that attractive, you tried to convince yourself. Still, you found the buttons of his shirt, trying to unfasten them quicker than Zoro had with yours.

One of them caught, and Zoro had the audacity to laugh. You grumbled something incoherent under your breath, tugging his shirt off all the way and tossing it somewhere behind you. “Shut up.”

“You’ve been the one complaining this entire time,” Zoro replied easily. He leaned down, tugging at your trousers to pull them off, pressing sloppy kisses down your torso now. You resisted the urge to say something in response, knowing it would just give him the satisfaction of being right. Were your points tied now? You couldn’t remember.

Zoro had pulled your pants down to your knees by now, and you kicked them off all the way, watching as he pushed them off the bed and leaned down to work at the inward slope of your hip. You shivered, legs trembling as you felt your core grow tight, the cloth of your underwear already wet with anticipation. Seeing the ever-steadying tent in Zoro’s pants made you feel just a little bit better, and you were nice enough to let a stuttering moan out as his tongue licked down to the band of your panties.

He pulled your underwear all the way off, then, but to your distaste completely ignored your fully exposed core to unbutton his own pants instead. “I hate you,” you muttered.

Zoro stopped in the middle of what he was doing, pants halfway down his thighs and length already out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, voice careful—you could still hear the mocking tone beyond the coolness of his voice, though, and your jaw clenched in irritation. “Did you want something?”

“Yeah, for you to shut the fuck up.” You pushed yourself up by the elbows, grabbing one of Zoro’s arms and yanking him down onto the mattress. You used both hands to strip him of the last of his clothes—God, his legs were long—before returning to press your own open-mouthed bruises along his neck. His hips bucked up against yours, insistently chasing any friction, but you tightened a grip on his thigh to get him to stop. “Give me a second.”

“I don’t like that I’m suddenly under you,” Zoro said drily, and you could feel the words as they formed in his throat, still biting hickeys into his skin. You rolled your eyes, lips disconnecting from skin with a dull pop.

“Deal with it, Roronoa. I’m not moving.” With that, you finally reached down to coax his legs apart, hovering your core over his hips as you lined your entrance up with his length.

There was an audible hitch of breath on Zoro’s part as you sunk onto him. Point.

One of his hands tangled in your hair when you started moving, the other coming to press on the small of your back as you worked yourself up and down around him. For the complaining he’d done about the position, he didn’t seem so bothered about it, pulling you into a rough kiss.

You bit back with force, breath escaping you as your hips bucked against Zoro’s. The wet pool in your lower belly only grew stronger with every thrust, pressure building up inside of you as Zoro’s tongue ran across your teeth. You moaned freely now, too lost in the daze of your pleasure to remember to be annoying. Evidently Zoro felt the same way—he swallowed every one of your gasps up, grunting as you pulsed around him.

Your hips stuttered, thigh muscles contracting with the effort as you clenched down on Zoro. Still, you pushed through even as your muscles started to tire, encouraged by the deep, throaty sounds that escaped Zoro's lips between each kiss. He was big, filling you up damn near wholeheartedly, the crevices inside of you seeming to mould to his skin as you worked yourself on him.

Zoro started moving against you, and you gasped as his angle changed, somehow reaching farther in your body and causing tingles to erupt all along your skin. Your mind buzzed as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, core pulsing as you felt yourself come closer and closer to the edge.

You came all at once, teeth biting down in Zoro’s mouth before you parted from him. You let out a gasping moan, attempting to toss your head back as stars burst across your vision. Zoro’s hand in your hair dragged you back into a kiss, though; this one was slower, less teeth this time, like him coming had lessened the urge to bite.

Your movements slowed, coming to rest against Zoro’s skin, warm and—although you wouldn’t say so out loud—almost comfortable. His hand hadn’t budged from where it was pressed against your lower back, holding you tight to him.

There was a sticky wetness spreading fast by your thighs, and you grimaced, lifting yourself off of Zoro and rolling beside him on your back in one fluid motion. He stifled a groan at the movement, clearly irritated at the fact you hadn’t given any warning.

You lay there, breath heaving, rising out your high and making no move to touch the man laying by your side.

After you’d regained some of your dignity, you sat up, eyes narrowing at Zoro. “Get off my bed.”

Zoro gave you an exasperated look, but he didn’t argue; he just climbed off your bed, retrieving his clothes from where you’d tossed them about the room. He donned them slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Your eyes traced along his figure while he did, and you only felt sort of annoyed by it.

“I still hate you,” you snapped, after he’d finished changing. Zoro just scoffed, picking up his swords and slinging them across one shoulder. You could see a bruise purpling by his neck. At least you’d done damage.

“Fine by me,” he replied, straightening his shirt and giving you a look—not quite irritated, not quite sarcastic. “Dinner’s still waiting for you.”

You glared at his back as he opened the door to your bedroom. “Get lost, Roronoa,” you said, and that was that.

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro smut #one piece live action #one piece netflix #opla #reader insert #x reader #opla fanfiction #opla fanfic #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #smut #opla zoro x reader #kiki writes!

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wonusite · 2 months

Text

Hate to Love You (Not Really)

❝ The only thing worse than spending Valentine’s Day alone is spending it with someone you hate. ❞

PAIRING: lee seokmin x female reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers, coworkers au, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT: 3k

WARNINGS: coworker!seokmin, one sided enemies to lovers, pining, drinking, being forced to share a room, only one bed trope, seokmin is a HUGE simp, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, cockwarming, pussy drunk!seokmin, cock drunk!reader

A/N: this is for the lovely @drunk-on-dk as part of @svthub’s cupid for you collab! i really hope you like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

“We only have one room available.”

Those six words are the worst you’ve heard all day. If it weren’t for the heavy snow falling outside, you would immediately grab your things to try to find any other accommodation for the night. Not that you would have any luck since every other decent hotel you’ve been to is already full.

Seokmin glances over at you, nearly wincing at your dissatisfied expression. He clears his throat and fakes a smile as he looks back at the desk clerk. “We’ll take it. Thank you.”

The walk to your suite is silent and tense. In any other situation, you would’ve loved to stay in a luxury hotel, but being forced to share a room with your insufferable coworker isn’t how you pictured that happening. At least Seokmin isn’t stupid enough to crack one of his unfunny jokes as you two get inside the suite.

As if things weren’t already miserable, you find out that there’s only one large bed and a nice but uncomfortable looking couch. You let out a long, tired sigh. Just your luck. As if your day couldn’t get any worse.

“I’ll take the couch.” Seokmin’s voice is soft. “I don’t mind.”

You whip your head to look at him in surprise. His gaze seems shy, but he maintains eye contact. For some reason, you’re hyper aware of your heartbeat and how it’s slowly increasing. You clear your throat nervously and give him a single nod.

“Cool. Thanks.”

Silence falls over you two again. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward. Mostly on your part because you hadn’t expected Seokmin to act so kindly towards you. After spending the entire day disagreeing about which manufacturer would be the best fit to produce the new wine bottles for the company, you thought he’d keep up his pettiness up to this point.

You tentatively sit on the edge of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. Ideally, you’d like to shower and order room service, but you can’t very well do it comfortably when you’re sharing a room with your coworker who you also happen to dislike a lot.

“Y/N?”

Seokmin’s voice is hesitant, as he inches toward you. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him so nervous. For some sick reason, you feel endeared by the sight.

“Did you want to get dinner? I saw they’re having a special wine tasting event since it’s Valentine’s Day.”

It would be so easy to turn him down, not to mention satisfying. But he’s looking at you so earnestly that you can’t let yourself be the one to crush the hope swimming in his eyes. And you are pretty hungry since you didn’t get to have lunch. Also, having a glass of wine (or several) sounds way too appealing to turn down.

“Okay.”

You’re not sure what demon has possessed you, but it’s one that’s messing with your mind because there’s no way you’re finding your mortal enemy hot right now. Objectively, you know Seokmin is good looking. It’s undeniable, however, you’ve never been able to perceive him as attractive because of how much you dislike him.

Although, right now, in his nice dress shirt that hugs his broad chest just right, you can’t think of him as the same guy who constantly tries to undermine you.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Seokmin says as you two sit down at the table. “I should’ve said something sooner, but when I saw you my brain just short-circuited.”

It’s true. When you stepped out of the bathroom in a slip dress that fit you just right, Seokmin just about died. He knew he must’ve looked like a complete fool just gawking at you without saying anything, but it was just a natural reaction.

Meanwhile, you have to force your expression to stay neutral as the waiter brings out the first wine you two are meant to taste. You’re not sure why Seokmin is suddenly acting so out of character, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling flattered and shy about his behavior.

“Thank you.” The words come out neutral (luckily for you). “You look good too.”

When he smiles at you brightly, you wonder if this is what all the other women in the office feel at the pretty sight. Seokmin has an infectious smile that’s too bright not to reciprocate. You hide most of it through a large gulp of wine, the bittersweet taste quickly marring your expression into one of neutrality again.

“Like it?” There’s a teasing lilt to the question.

You hum against the rim of the crystal glass. “Try it. Tell me what you think.”

It’s hard to control your expression when Seokmin listens to you. He never does, and the fact that he did it so easily is jarring. Also, it doesn’t help that he looks damn good while doing so.

Seokmin lets out a noise of approval. He licks his lips and maintains eye contact with you. “Sweet.”

The smirk he directs at you when you awkwardly cough is infuriatingly attractive. It feels like you’re potentially reading too much into his actions, and before you can really begin to question anything, the next bottle of wine is brought out for you to taste.

You attempt to distract yourself with the wine, but you can feel Seokmin’s eyes on you. There’s something heated about his gaze, and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into him. Still, you can’t bring yourself to outright ask even though you can feel the wine beginning to give you a nice little buzz.

“You must like this one.” Seokmin says, pretty smile still in place.

He says it because you gulped down what was in your glass. What he doesn’t know is that it’s because of him that you feel the need to finish the wine quickly so you can silence all these inappropriate thoughts you’re having.

“You must not.” Comes your rebuttal when you see that he’s barely taken a sip.

Seokmin doesn’t say anything at first. You can see him thinking, almost like he’s contemplating on how to answer you. Finally, he flashes another one of his annoyingly cute smiles at you. “It’s not bad, but seeing you like it so much is better than the taste.”

“What’s your problem?” You demand abruptly, not caring that the waiters who brought out your food are looking like they just walked into the crossfire.

That heart-stopping smile drops off his face, and his expression falls into the familiar cold one you’re used to receiving. Finally, the uncomfortable knot in your chest comes undone, but it’s replaced by a different discomfort.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You scoff, annoyed that he’s not willing to acknowledge his odd behavior. “Yes, you do. Why are you acting like you don’t hate me all of a sudden?”

His gaze becomes hard, but you swear you see a tinge of sadness somewhere in that cold look. “I don’t hate you.”

You can’t understand why he’s lying, and so blatantly at that. It’s obvious that he’s hated you since you inadvertently picked holes in his first major presentation. He’s been out to get you ever since, and you’re not sure why he’s trying to act like you don’t know exactly how he feels about you.

“Right.” You scoff incredulously. “You telling the entire office that you’re capable of doing this project without my help was out of fondness.”

A blush slowly crawls up Seokmin’s neck and spreads across his face. “That—!”

“Oh, and I guess you did me a favor by telling our boss that ‘no woman should spend Valentine’s Day working!’”

Seokmin feels himself start to panic because he had said that, but it’s really not what you think. And he has to clear that up. Like now.

“Will you please just let me explain?”

You’re thrown off because the wine is slowly easing your nerves and because Seokmin looks like a kicked puppy. With a quiet huff, you nod stiffly, not wanting to make a scene even though some of the people at the surrounding tables are already looking at you funny.

“I just– I didn’t want you to have to spend today with me.”

Everything just seems to stop. Seokmin looks so remorseful and like he’s about to cry that you can’t think of his explanation as anything other than the truth. But then there’s the big question looming on your mind: Why would someone who hates you try to do something so kind for you? Unfortunately, you’re so thrown off that you can’t form a coherent response.

“You– What?”

Seokmin lets out a forced laugh. Your dumbfounded expression is adorable and makes him think that maybe he hadn’t entirely screwed up.

“Last month, I overheard you telling Josh that you had big plans today. When we were put on the project together and found out we had to work today, I tried everything so you wouldn’t be forced to spend the day with me. I’m an idiot for not realizing how you would feel about the things I said and I’m sorry.”

If only this sweet, silly man knew the big plans you mentioned involved five of your favorite romcoms and a bottle of wine. You can’t fully process the onslaught of emotions hitting you with full force, and you wish you had the capacity to answer him intelligently.

“But… why? Why would you do that for me?”

Seokmin can feel the heat coming from his face, but he soldiers on with what he hopes is anything but an embarrassed expression. “Like I said. I don’t hate you.”

You just blink at him, and he has to laugh.

“It’s true. And I’ll prove it to you.”

Just when you think he can’t surprise you anymore, he signals over a worker you hadn’t noticed before. The lovely woman had been handing out single pink roses, and now she was giving Seokmin the remaining ones after he slipped her several bills. You gape at him as he boldly hands them to you with that dumb, endearing smile.

“For you.” He nudges them toward you. “I know you would’ve preferred red or white roses, but I’ll get them for you some other time.”

Now his words are making your brain short circuit because what the fuck? How could he know your preferences and what did he mean that he would get you your favorite flowers next time?

All your rationality has gone out the window, and so have your inhibitions. It’s why you don’t care to cut the dinner short while telling Seokmin to follow you upstairs. He’s so obedient that you eat it all up. That and his needy kisses are too addicting for you to think about how wrong you’d been this entire time.

“You feel good, pretty girl?” Seokmin wonders from between your thighs.

His entire body burns with desire when you give him a heated look as you slowly roll your hips, grinding your soaking cunt down on his awaiting mouth. You do it with a neediness that has his eyes rolling and his cock twitching. Seokmin has never looked hotter to you than he does with your arousal covering his mouth and chin. You’re so turned on that your juices are slowly dripping down into a mess on the sheets bellow you.

“Amazing.” You breathe out through a whine as Seokmin dives back in, flicking his tongue on your throbbing clit before fucking it into your needy hole.

His cock is leaking and twitching as he drinks up every last bit of your arousal. Seokmin moans and groans into your cunt as you eagerly meet every movement of his tongue with an enthusiastic grind of your hips.

“Fuck, baby. Wanna make you come.”

You clench around his tongue at hearing the earnest words. It makes you arch into him more, loving how his tongue is splitting though your folds and slurping up all your arousal eagerly. He drags his wet muscle over your clit before sucking and rolling it like he would do to an addicting candy.

He’s so into eating you out, so fucked out by your taste alone that you can’t stop your quickly approaching orgasm. Seokmin’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head, moaning and whimpering about how you taste like absolute heaven. There’s even a moment where he lets it slip about how long he’s longed to have a taste of you, and that just does it for you.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and you two moan in pleasure together. Seokmin’s cock throbs wildly at the sweet taste of your cream. He licks every inch of your pretty pussy, not wanting to waste even a single drop of what you’re giving him.

“God.” You breathe out, legs trembling around his head. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

Expectedly, Seokmin does exactly as you want. You don’t care that you might need some time to adjust to his cock’s impressive size, you just need him.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this, angel.” Seokmin hums against your jaw as his fat tip teases your entrance. “All needy and wet, just for me.”

“Please.” You whine into his cheek as he laces your hands together. “Want you so bad, baby.”

Your moans are loud and downright pornographic when Seokmin finally eases his throbbing cock into your cunt. You’re so warm and wet and tight that he already feels addicted. He could come just from bottoming out, but he won’t. Not before he feels you come on his cock.

You arch your back, mouth dropped open in pleasure. “Fuck me!”

And he does, nice and deep. Your legs hook around Seokmin’s slim waist to push him in deeper. His cock is ramming against a spot no one else came close to touching, and you’re sm quickly starting to lose yourself to the pleasure consuming you. His big cock smoothes along your velvety walls with every rough snap of his hips, and you don’t even try to contain your cries of pleasure.

“Feels so good.” You whimper into Seokmin’s mouth when he turn to plant a messy kiss to your lips.

Your eyes roll back as his tongue forces it’s way into your mouth. His thumb brushes the back of your hand gently, the tender action only spurring you on as you try to meet the wet connection of his hips with needy grinds of your own.

Seokmin’s cock throbs inside you, seeming to swell at your words. He reluctantly pulls way from your lips, hips not stopping for a second. Every thrusts feels like the air is lowly being forced out of your lungs. But you love every second. All you can do is moan out his name with ravenous desire as he fucks his cock into you.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight.” Seokmin groans as his free hand trails down to your swollen nub. It’s so cute to hear you moan out for him as he starts to rub gentle yet fast circles into your clit. “Feels so good around me. Sh-Shit, Y/N. Never wanna stop fucking you. Want to be inside this pretty pussy all the time!”

You’re so turned on by his need for you and your pussy that you can feel yourself on the verge of coming. Especially with the way his fingers twist around your messy clit. Your inside are fluttering as his leaking tip rams into your soft spot over and over again.

“G-Gonna come!” You cry out and you squeeze the hand that is still wrapped around yours.

You focus on his rough thrusts and how his hips dig into yours as his big cock stretches your little pussy open to fit him inside. The restless flicks to your puffy nub push you over the edge as Seokmin urges you to come for him. He licks and sucks on your pulse point just to drive you more insane than you already feel.

“Seokmin!”

Your orgasm tips through you intensely as you crema all over his aching cock. Seokmin curls his body over yours, wrapping his brawny arm around you back to press himself against you. Now you’re stuck in his strong yet gentle embrace, bodies practically molded into one as he continues to split you open.

His thrusts become sloppy as he keeps on fanning the flames of your orgasm. “Need to fill you up, angel. Want to see your pretty pussy dripping with my cum.”

“Come inside me!” You beg, eyes rolling back. “Stuff me full!”

Seokmin smashes his lips on yours, greedily swallowing your moans as he empties himself inside your hot cunt. His entire body shudders in pleasure as he fucks his cum deeper into you.

“Fuck, baby. Take it all. It’s just yours, angel.”

You’re slowly coming down from you high when you feel Seokmin’s lip brush against your ear. “I’m not done yet.”

That’s when you find out he’s just as insatiable as you are.

“Fuck.” Seokmin moans against your neck as his thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier.

He’s so drunk on the feeling of your hot cunt that he feels any coherent thoughts start to get hazy. “So fucking pretty. Always so fucking pretty.”

Seokmin pulls you in for another kiss, hips still grinding into yours with a need that turns you on beyond belief. You’ve already came on his cock two more times, and he’s mad with clear that he won’t stop until he stuffs your pussy one more time. Which he does. Thick ropes of his cum spill into you, adding to the mess on his heavy balls and the sheets bellow you.

His next kiss is gentle yet passionate. Seokmin hums into your mouth, still making no move to pull out. His cock acts as a plug for all his cum, and when you shift he groans against your lips.

“Let me stay inside you, baby.” He pleads with shining eyes. “Please.”

“Okay.” You sigh as he rolls you over so your weight is on top of him now.

And it’s only when your on the cusp of sleep that you realize Seokmin still hasn’t let go of your hand.

#lee seokmin smut #seokmin smut #svt smut #svthub #svthub.collab #seokmin x reader #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seokmin x you #lee seokmin x you #svt x you #seokmin imagines #lee seokmin imagines

599 notes · View notes

lovelinoss · 2 months

Text

nonidol!seungmin x afab!reader

college!au

Warnings : smut. MDNI!! adult content below, brat tamer seungmin?, use of pet names, enemies to lovers trope?, unprotected sex (no not do this), tutor seungmin, etc.

a/n : this has been stored in my drafts for so long unfinished.. but i decided to finish it and its so bad?! im gon sob. Butttt… my inbox if always open for req so feel free to ask !

wc: 5k (5,069)

“Can’t you see where you’re going?!” the guy in front of you said. More like above you, since you were on the floor with your books everywhere and your spilled coffee to the side. It was so embarrassing, trying to get into the library’s “office” room for people who study or work to get some work done when you ran into this guy on his way out.

I mean what a jerk, right? It was your fault, but a person who was thinking straight and is a decent human being would have said “it’s okay” and help you up!

The concrete floor was cold, the winter days adding more of this chilliness. Your bottom hurt from the fall. You just looked up at him to see his face in an annoyed scrunch. He noticed you staring and he met your gaze. He sighed.

“C’mon, get up,” he said, reaching his hand out for you to grab. You looked between him and his hand. You reluctantly reached out for it, grasping his hands. He tugged backwards for you to get up.

“Thanks.. i guess,” you said, dusting off your coat and crouching down to pick up your books.

“Is that how you thank someone?” He said, catching you off guard. You stood up after picking up your books.

"What?" You responded, staring at him. He raised his eyebrow, making it seem like he was intimidating you.

"Want me to say it again?" he said, crossing his arms with his backpack slung over his shoulder. "is. that. how. you. thank. someone?"

"Fucking no!" you yelled out of frustration. "What as in is that something to say to someone? Are you this rude on a daily basis?"

“Whatever,” he shrugged, bumping into your shoulder as he left his own way. That was so obvious that it was on purpose! You could feel the way he smirked once he walked away.

What the fuck. Who even was he?

You’re mind was on this random guy the whole time you were trying to study. Trying to right down your notes in your notebook would just lead you back to slamming your fist on the table out if frustration. You sighed, leaning back against the chair you were sitting in. It’s been 2 hours and you barely got your work done. You were tired. You were frustrated. You need a break.

You left your stuff as is on the single desk. No one in the library cared enough to steal stuff. It was never said so, but everyone knew that no one steals stuff in the library.

You walked into the nearby convenience store once you got out, wanting to get some snacks and some coffee to keep you awake all night.

You reached the area where they kept the drink when you spotted your favorite brand of coffee sitting on the shelves. Lucky for you, it was the last one. You cheered mentally, walking over to grab it.

However, when you were reaching your hand out to grab it, another hand reached it first, grabbing it off the shelf. You turned to your left to see who stole your coffee. And nonetheless, it was the guy that you bumped into earlier in front of the library.

“You!” You screamed, glancing over to the coffee in his grasp. He was tossing it up like he won a battle or something, like a victory prize.

He groaned.

“Not you again,” he sighed, turning around to head over to the register.

“Wait!” You screamed, making him turn back to face you. You really didn’t mean to call him out like that. But you were desperate. No other coffee brand fit your taste. “Give me that coffee.”

“What? Are you fucking crazy. Finders keepers, losers weepers,” he said. “Go cry to your mommy about it.”

This son of a bitch.

"C'mon. Give me that coffee. Be a gentleman, would you?" you told him, reaching your hand out.

"What, no." he shrugged, shaking the can of coffee in his hand right in front of your face. "It's mine now."

This infuriated you. Who does he think he is?

You snatched his hand away. He looked a bit shocked for a second, before his "O" shaped mouth turned into a smirk. How could anyone be this annoying?

"FINE!!" you yelled, crossing your arms. "keep that stupid coffee all for your stupid self."

He shook the can in front of you for a second before dropping his hand, knowing you would swipe it away again.

"Okayy~" he said. "My stupid self will take this stupid coffee and leave~" he mockingly said. He turned around and walked to the register, laughing.

You cursed him in your head a million times, opening to fridge door to get a random cup of coffee you never tried before. This'll have to do.

୨ৎ

"fuck!" you screamed, jumping out of bed turning off your alarm clock. You were late. Late for your last class of the season before your exams. You sighed, running over to your bathroom to get ready.

Finally after around 7 minutes, you surprisingly got ready in comfortable sweatpants and a sweater, fitted nicely for the cold weather. You rushed toward your class building, running in and finally reaching your lecture hall.

"Ms Y/LN, you're late." your professor, Lee Minho, announced for the whole lecture hall to hear. Embarrassed, you bowed to him quickly, a way for you to say sorry, and quickly found your seat next to Felix, your best friend.

"Were you on your phone all night again?" he asked you as you sat down next to him, sighing.

"What? No!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms and glaring at him. "Who do you think I am?"

"Then what were you doing?"

Before you could answer him, your professor hit his pointer stick on his desk to get everyone's attention.

"You guys all remember about the exam you guys are taking in 2 days, yes?" he asked, followed by a unison of yes's. "Well good. I know some of you are having a bit of trouble studying. This is why I have a special guest."

That was when a figure walked through the lecture hall door dressed in a simple oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, followed by a backpack slung over one of his shoulder. You groaned when you saw the figure's face, sighing as Felix looked over to you for any answers. It was the guy that you kept running into. That jerk who had no manners.

"This is Seungmin, everyone." Mr lee announced, putting a hand on his shoulder. So that was his name. "He was top of the class last semester. He did leave.. worst decision, am i right? But he did agree to help students who are having trouble with the exam, since he too had to take it before."

That was when you noticed that he noticed you in the small crowd of people sitting in the lecture hall. He smirked. He fucking smirked.

"Do you know him?" You heard lix saying.

"Remember that guy I told you I ran into? That's him!" You complained, hiding your face into the palm of your hands as you let out a loud sigh.

"Oh girl.." he said, letting out a small airy laugh.

"If you are having trouble, sign the paper that is sitting on my desk at the end of the class. You'll have small, extra classes with Seungmin whenever you choose to, since the sign up sheet has time slots for each person. You could choose whether to have a 1 on 1 or a small group study session." Mr lee explained while Seungmin went over to his desk to hold up the sign up sheet.

"Stop." You whispered to Felix. "I need help. Like what the fuck are those questions on the study guide? ughh, but I can't ask him." you complained.

"Of course you can. Let's just sign up together for a group study session and we could stick together, yeah?" He offered. You accepted, knowing you had to get help in some way.

After class, Mr lee dismissed you guys so that you guys can either go and be free or sign up. You had to pack up, so Felix, who was faster than you, went ahead to sign both of you guys up.

You caught up with him soon after. His expression seemed bad.

"uhm.. so. Every group session that was available was full.. so I just signed up for a 1 on 1.. and that's the only option you also have."

"What!!'" you exclaimed, making way for you to see the sign up sheet for yourself. You groaned, looking at all the names that were next to the group study sessions. Well what choice did you have? You really did need some help to pass this exam.

୨ৎ

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! You repeated in your head while you were standing right in front of the door of the small mini lecture hall that is provided for students. Students such as Seungmin to tutor.

Based on the sign up sheet, you were the last one he was going to be tutoring. The campus was silent, with everyone being in their dorms or professors doing their own stuff.

You straightened your clothes, making sure he wouldn’t look down on you again, literally.

You pushed on the door, trying to make it open. Instead, a figure opened the door the other way, making you bump your head lightly and fall backwards. You fell, landing on your ass.

“Pfft” you heard. You looked up a bit, placing a hand on the spot on your forehead that got hit. It was yet again Seungmin who was looking down at you with a pair of glasses sitting lightly on the bridge of his nose. “Did you seriously try to push? It says pulls right below the handle.”

Oh.

“Ugh, whatever..” you protested, getting up by yourself, dusting your clothes off. “Why were you even coming out of that room? Now I have this bruise on my forehead..”

“I saw you struggling through the window,” he shrugged, going back into the mini lecture hall. “Come in when you’re ready.”

You groaned. This was not going to be a delightful hour.

୨ৎ

“Move this bla bla move that bla bla and the exponent bla bla graph this and the answer is….” Was all you heard while Seungmin sat in front of the desk you were sitting at, using his pencil and scribbling all over the paper. “Now you try.”

“Huh.”

“Huh,” He said mockingly, pushing his glasses higher. “Were you seriously not listening to me?”

“Not really..”

“You think you’re gonna pass the exam like this?”

“No..”

“Ok here. Let me explain it again. You see the first digit? Get that and multiply these to get the term. These terms are common, yes? Multiply them.”

He continued to explain, saying how this is a part of the easier questions.

“You try.” He said, placing the pencil he was holding in front of you, glancing at the pencil indicating for you to start.

After about 3 minutes, you placed the pencil down. Seungmin turned away from his own study to look at it.

“Nice. You got that right. Let me give you 3 more questions.” He said, quickly jotting down numbers, letters, and symbols. “There. Can you try these?”

You nodded.

10 minutes passed, and you handed the paper to him. He looked over your answers, nodding at some and squinting at others.

“This one’s wrong.” He explained, turning the paper so that you could see it and pointing at the second one you did. “Look at it again. Can you point out what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. It looked right in your eyes, but obviously it was wrong.

“On the second step you made a mistake. Simple mistake. You multiplied these wrong.”

“Oh.” you simply stated, grabbing the paper again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Unless you’re apologizing for how you’re wasting my time.”

“Whatever, jerk.” you fought back, grabbing your pencil and fixing your mistake.

Quickly, you handed him back the paper.

“There.”

“Ok.. that’s better.” He said, taking off his glasses. “Time’s up. Come back tomorrow, same time, yeah?”

You groaned loudly, loud enough so that he could hear you.

“Do you not want to pass your exams?”

“Never said that! It’s just a pain in the ass to be taught by you, especially.”

“Seems like someone doesn’t want to pass.” He remarked, packing his backpack with the books he had.

“No i do!” You said, packing your own things in your bag. That’s when you noticed him taking something out of his backpack.

“Here. For you.” He said, sliding over a can of coffee, your favorite brand, across the table.

“Ew.” you said, gliding it back.

“Didn’t want to say this but this girl that has a crush on me bought it for me. Gross! Take it. It’s gross like you.”

You scoffed.

“I don’t need coffee from someone like you.” You remarked, sticking your tongue out at him before running away and leaving the classroom.

“Brat.”

୨ৎ

“How was tutoring?” Felix asked you as you sat down minutes before your lecture with Mr lee started.

“It sucked! Total pain in the ass, yknow.”

“Well me personally it did help. I understood it more,” Felix said, patting your shoulder to comfort you. “He even said i was good enough that I don’t have to come back today!”

“Lucky!!” You exclaimed, pouting at him. “He told me I had to come back today. I suck.”

“It’s fine. As long as you pass the exam, yeah?”

“I guess.”

That’s when Mr lee tapped his pointer stick on his desk.

“I heard some students who signed up yesterday did very well! And i also heard some students still need more help. If you have any questions, feel free to go ask Seungmin in lecture hall 4a after this lecture is over.”

Obviously you knew you had to go again. He said it himself. How you dreaded for the moment lecture ended.

୨ৎ

“Ughhh. You’re back.” Seungmin said the moment you walked in through the door. He was leaning back against his own chair, legs crossed with a simple sweatpants and a white tank top with a windbreaker on.

You scoffed.

“You told me to be back, idiot.” You said, sitting down in your seat you were in last time.

“idiot?” Seungmin said in disbelief, letting out an airy laugh.

“Yes. Idiot.” You spat out, crossing your arms along with your legs, leaning back against the chair.

You were wearing a denim skirt today with tights underneath it with a white tank top, topped with a thick jacket over it. You were planning to hang out with your friends later that day, just to get some stress off before the exam tomorrow. With your legs crossed, your skirt rid up your thighs, making you more exposed. You didn’t care, you barely even noticed.

But he did. Seungmin did.

Your plush thighs wrapped around the tights had him staring for a second, looking back up at you in your eyes with a glare.

“Fucking brat.”

What? What did he just call you?

“What?” You said in disbelief, rolling your eyes and glaring up at him. “What did you just call me?”

“You really aren’t the type to listen, aren’t you?” He said, walking closer to you. “I said you’re a fucking brat.”

“What the fuck? Why are you so-“ you started to say. But before you could even let another word out, he leaned down, putting his face as close to yours as possible. You felt his breath every time he exhaled. You were squirming in your seat. Why was he so close? It was obvious that Seungmin was the good looking type. It was a fact. You even overheard some girls while walking to your lecture saying how hot he was. You never really saw it until he put his face close to yours until it was only a centimeter away.

His eyes were dark, alluring you into his deep, dark brown eyes. His nose was pretty sharp, with light, natural blush covering his cheeks. You looked down even more. His lips were as plush as marshmallow. So plush. So soft to the point you wanted to kis-

What? Why were you thinking this? You don’t like Seungmin. You hate him. So why was your core pulsing around nothing and wetting your panties every second.

“Tell me you don’t want this” he said under his breath. “I’ll stop.” But you didn’t answer, staring into his deep eyes, wanting him.

“please..” you whispered. You heard a faint brat before grabbing your chin with one hand, placing the other on the desk next to you to steady himself, and leaning in to kiss you.

Why the hell did he kiss you?

Truth be told, he liked you ever since he glanced over and saw you studying your ass off one day during his library visit. You looked cute. Your round glasses perched on your nose bridge that you got rid of when it was day time with a lollipop in between your pink, plump lips.

Then, he saw you sometimes in the hallways, all flirty and talkative with your gfs and your friends. You seemed so bratty with the way you talked with your friends. It was hot.

When he bumped into you that one day, he couldn’t help but be happy. That was also when he realized that you were definitely a brat.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he sometimes came to him dorm, lock himself in his room, and jack himself off to the thought of you. To the thought of him brat taming a bitch like you. You under his hands squirming while taking in his cock in your tight cunt. Imagining this would only lead to soiling his clothes he was wearing.

He couldn’t help it.

You were already hot enough when you didn’t wear make up, but seeing you all dressed up would make him go crazy. Like you were all dressed up for him. For his cock.

Your lips were like cushion against his. So soft. So warm. So hot.

You whimpered into the kiss, which he quickly swallowed. His tongue caressed your bottom lip, making you slightly part them, allowing his tongue to intrude your mouth.

Out of breath you pulled back with a saliva string still connecting you and Seungmin. You were panting, looking up at him.

“J-jerk” you managed to stutter out, not sure why you said it. He got face to face with you again, landing light slaps onto your cheek.

“Are you gonna listen to me, brat?”

You whined a bit at the pain you felt on the right side of your face. He chuckled.

“You like pain? Are you a pain slut?”

You nodded slowly. No one knew this. It was your own little secret. But the stare Seungmin gave you was so endearing it just came out of you. He smiled, grabbing you by the wrist to pull you up. He swung you, making you hit the edge of the table. He leaned closer yet again. “Gonna let me do what I want?”

You smirked a bit, nodding slowly yet again.

He leaned in to make out with you again. Which you gladly accepted. Mid-kiss, his hands slowly went down to grab you by the waist. He lifted you up, placing you to sit on top of the desk. He pulled away. You were squeezing your thighs, trying to get some friction to your core. That was when he took his hand and started to grope your plush thighs. You let out a sigh of a moan.

“Open for me, yeah?”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You said, glaring at him.”

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

You did as he said contrast to your words, slowly spreading your legs out for Seungmin. He grinned. Oh how you wanted to slap the fuck out of him. He took his jacket off at that time, too, revealing his pretty slender arms with muscles hidden underneath. It wasn’t very visible, but him being so close to you, you saw the hidden veins in them and it turned you in more.

His slender fingers started to rub your clothed core, making you whine.

“W-wait.” You looked up to him. “What if we get caught? The door is unlocked.”

“Better keep quiet than, yeah?” He smirked, grinning a proud smile as he made his way toward your tight’s waistband, until you heard a loud RIP.

“What the fuck?!!” You exclaimed looking down to see a big, gaping hole in your tights in your crotch area. “You better pay for those.”

All he did was shrug, before bringing his fingers closer to your panties, gliding his digits over the lace on the fabric.

“Lace, huh?”

He slid his fingers over your clothed cunt, gathering the wetness that was dripping out of you, making a wet patch on your panties.

“You’re so wet. All wet for me baby?”

You nodded, looking down at his fingers go to work on you. They were long, in general, his hand size was huge.

“Can I?” He asked while tugging slightly at your panties. You looked dazed, not even wanting to fight it off. You wanted this. He took that as a yes, sliding your panties to one side, the cold air now hitting your warm cunt. You winced at the feeling. You felt his digits going below, but without any warning, his cold finger penetrated your warm cunt, making your whine out at the feeling. It really was long. The cold added an extra bit of sensation. Seungmin chuckled, landing a peck on your cheek.

“Baby can’t handle one finger?”

You shook your head. Who did he think you were.

“I c-can” you muttered out, which allowed him to slide in a second finger. You grabbed onto his bare forearms to balance yourself. He curled his fingers in and out of you, making whines and moans fall out of your lips. His long, slender fingers reached your g spot, making you bend over with high pitched whimpers falling out of tour mouth.

“Shh,” he quieted you. “Remember, there still might be some people outside.” You covered your mouth with your hand, making him laugh, still curling his fingers deep into you. He knew there was barely any people on the campus at this time, let alone this building. But why would he tell you that?

He pulled out his digits, making you cry from the feeling of loss.

“Seungmin, I want you.” You whined, but he shut you up with his fingers that were just inside of you. You groaned at the taste of yourself, looking up at him with teary eyes from both pleasure and yearn.

He felt his cock grow harder in the confinements in his pants. You teary eyed with your mascara running loose slowly but surely.

“You’re gonna get me, alright? Just be patient, brat.”

He pulled away his digits out of your mouth, giving a small kiss on your lips before pulling his pants down.

It was hard to see due to the bagginess of his sweatpants, but his growing bulge was clearly visible to you now. He was big. Or at least you could tell from the angle you were sitting in. Oh how badly you wanted his cock to penetrate you so deeply-

“You’re staring.”

You woke up from your thoughts, looking back up to look at Seungmin’s eyes. He’s smirking. He could tell what you wanted.

“Get down.” He said, nodding to the floor in front of him.

“What?” You fought back. “I’m not doing that! That’s gonna spoil my-“

“Didn’t you hear me? Get on the floor.”

A shiver was sent down your spine, along with the feeling of your panties getting wetter and wetter.

You obliged, slowly scooting off the table before you got on your knees, feeling the cold floor hit your warm skin. You were now face to face with his crotch, still confined. You looked up at him.

What was with you always below him and him always looking down at you with that condescending look?

He hooked his finger through the waistband of his boxers, pulling it down slightly, making his cock bounce up, his tip hitting his abdomen, and it was right in your face.

It was big. His cock was long with a bit of girth with veins running along his length. His red tip already spilling out some precum.

You looked back up at him to see him smirking the shit out of his face.

“Suck me off and I’ll see if you could have my cock, ok?”

You wanted to beat the shit out of him. Who did he think he was to control you like that.

But you couldn’t help it.

You leaned in a bit, now with your lips only a few centimeters away from the tip of his cock. You stuck out your tongue, coming in contact with his salty tip covered in precum. You winced at the taste. You wrapped your lips around his tip, now slowly taking in more and more of his length. You heard him groan. You smirked, still having his length in your mouth.

You slowly lifted your head, then going back in, repeating this movement while still hearing him slowly pant out.

“Fuck- you’re so stubborn” he grunted out before he grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He bobbed your head on his length himself, making you moan along with him grunting with the feeling of your warm lips wrapping around his length.

You moaned around his length, causing vibrations to hit his girth. He grunted.

Seungmin pulled you off his length, making you cough a bit, wiping the saliva that was dripping on your chin with the palm of your hand.

He pulled you back up, tugging your hair with his hand that was still tangled up in a makeshift ponytail. He brought your face closer, giving you a kiss before setting you back up on the desk.

Your pussy was throbbing, begging for attention. You pouted at Seungmin, who had a thirsty look in his eyes while eyeing your figure up and down while you were sitting there, neatly on his desk.

"Just fuck me already, min." you argued, looking up at him with a pleading look.

"Be patient, fucking brat." he retorted. Despite his words, he took his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly while staring at your face who was basically drooling at the sight of his tip disappearing and reappearing in the fist of his hand. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to get some friction on your cunt. He chuckled, noticing your expression and your movements. "You're eager, pup. I'll give what you want, just be patient, okay?"

The pet name made you squirm. Who knew you were such a slut for meager names?

He slapped your thigh, indicating you to open your legs so that your sweet cunt could be exposed for him. You obliged, opening them slowly until your wet pussy was out just for him.

"You obey easily, don't you? Just like a loyal dog." You nodded, eagerly, only focused on what would his cock feel like when he stretched you out. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan awaiting to come out just from the desire of his length.

He got closer, leaning in to give you a kiss on the lips, distracting you while he brought his cock closer and closer to your tight pussy. He pulled away, looking down to focus on you. He slapped your pussy with his hot length, making you wince from the sensation. It wasn't enough. You wanted more. No. You needed more.

"Just fuck me.. you're so slow, min," you pouted.

"Stop fucking complaining," he hissed, before lining his length against your hole and thrusting in without warning. You gasped, feeling his cock penetrate you so deeply. He grunted himself, feeling your tight walls engulf his length. "fuck- you're so tight pup."

You mewled as he pulled his length out, just for him to thrust back in, deep inside your soppy cunt. He thrusted for a bit, making you pant and a chorus of moans and whimpers fall out of your lips. He, too, let out groans.

He pulled you by the hair, forcing you to look up at him. Your eyes swelling up in tears as his rhythm didn’t stop.

“Look at me, pup.” You did. Focusing your attention on Seungmin’s face. He smirked. “Good little puppy, yeah?” he said before bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. Spit everywhere, drooling down your chin, teeth clashing as he thrusted into you. You whimpered, the pain in your scalp as he pulled you in closer. He let go, a spit string connecting both of your guys’ tongues.

“M-min,” you managed to whimper out. He hummed in response, grabbing you by the waist to thrust in deeper. You mewled. The knot in your stomach began to tighten, making you grip along the edge of the table you were so nicely placed on.

“Gonna cum, little puppy?”

you nodded fastly, moving your grip onto his tank top. It tightened, your grip as long as the knot in your stomach.

He maneuvered your right leg a bit higher, and with a final thrust, you came. Your jaw dropped, eyes shut as pleasure overwhelmed you as he kept hitting your cervix.

With a few more, he too, came, coating your walls white. You both breathed heavily together in unison. Looking at his face filled with pleasure was so.. so alluring. His eyebrows scrunched together with his eyes closed.

He pulled out, shoving his length back in his cock as he packed his bags.

“M-min?” You said in confusion, still practically naked sitting on top of his desk. He looked back up at you with his backpack hung over his shoulder.

“C’mon. Round two at my place.” He said it so casually, but also as a sort of question.

“Uh..” you muttered, hopping off the desk, smoothing out your skirt. “Yea-“

Before you even finished, he grabbed you by the wrist, turning off the lights to the mini lecture hall and leading you out the door.

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz smut #seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin stray kids #seungmin imagines #kpop imagine #kpop

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writingpastmybedtime · 3 months

Text

Mine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Bucky and Reader have to pretend to be husband and wife on a mission, even though they do not get along at all. Your classic enemies-to-lovers trope.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: none, although Bucky is hot as always.

A/N: Let me know, if you want a pt 2 to this ;)

You should have known better, really. Wearing a short black, curve-hugging, dress wasn’t going to go unnoticed by the Super Soldier whose gaze you wished to avoid.

Bucky and you had been tedious to each other for most of the time spent at the compound. It was common knowledge for the team that you two weren’t supposed to be on the same mission together. Unless they wished to witness your back-to-back nagging. Which, they did not.

That changed, however, when Natasha fell sick and you had to replace her on a mission pretending to be the wife of a Russian mobster, Ivan Sarkovich aka James Buchanan Barnes undercover.

Needless to say, you did not go on this mission without letting out a fight. Tony shut you up quite quickly, reminding you of the innocent lives that would be harmed if you did not fall through with this mission. There was no one else to take Natasha’s place, but you. You sighed, before begrudgingly agreeing.

So here you were, at a lavish Balkan hotel somewhere in Eastern Europe with the most exhausting and tiresome being to ever exist - Bucky Barnes. The bane of your existence. The man, with the most gorgeous blue eyes, the body of a Greek God on steroids, and hands you wish would do the dirtiest things to you.

No one knew you had these kinds of thoughts and feelings towards the ex-Winter Soldier, however, it wasn't hard to hide them whenever he acted like a total ass towards you. You had put up a façade to everyone, not letting out your true feelings. Not when he couldn’t even be in the same room as you without snickering a rude remark.

Had he ever not acted indifferent towards you, perhaps you would not be in this predicament you were in right now.

Fortunately enough, Bucky had already gone downstairs to play poker with the people who you were investigating.

Ruslan Nikolaevich was a Russian man, behind a drug cartel that had been shipping new kinds of supplements in New York, mainly appealing to teens and young adults. They sold it under the premise of protein, however, it was nothing similar of the sort, except for the look of it.

You and Bucky had to gain information about the next possible drop-off - the location, the recipient, and the lot. You were supposed to join your dear husband downstairs in five minutes, playing the ever-clingy happy, and satisfied wife.

Smoothing down your dress and taking a last-minute look in the mirror, you deemed yourself good to go. Perhaps your dress was a bit much, but without a second thought, you left the safety of your hotel room.

Walking towards the men sitting at the poker table, you held your chin high and only looked at Bucky. He was wearing an all-black suit, the one that you thought fit him the best. The one that you wished he would wear when he’d do the most dirty things to you.

Bucky looked up from the table, as if hearing your thoughts, and his eyes fell on yours. A smirk graced his lips as you neared and he patted his lap, an indication for you to take a seat.

It was totally normal and mostly expected of the Russian mobsters to have their wives and eye candies sitting on their lap - a way to show off. So, as expected of you, you took a seat. Right on Bucky’s deliciously firm thighs.

“I thought you wouldn’t come, with how long you took,” Bucky nuzzled into your neck, making a shiver go down your spine. You smirked, placing a seductive hand on his jaw, playing with the slight stubble there.

“What kind of a wife would I be, if I did not show up to support my perfect husband?” You raised an eyebrow and Bucky chuckled darkly, before placing his lips on your temple and focusing his gaze back on the game.

“I wish my Maria would still look at me the same way your девушка looks at you,” a man with a thick Russian accent said, looking over at you with a longing gaze that made Bucky place his vibranium arm over your waist as if to pull you closer to him and protect against the Russians that eyed you in a way that made his blood boil.

Bucky chuckled, to not let on, that he was disturbed by Maksim’s looks.

“If you’re willing, you could also share your сладостью with the others,” Maksim was eyeing you up and down, and you were now second-guessing your dress choice.

“Gentlemen,” Bucky chuckled darkly, before throwing his cards on the table. “I’m afraid this sweet thing is not for share, for I have intended her all for myself tonight.”

The men at the table groaned but still looked at you with lust-filled eyes, a certain jealousy towards Bucky Barnes, no, Ivan Sarkovich.

“I think it’s time we took our leave, my девушка seems to be getting tired of our manly chit-chat and boyish games.” With a nudge to your waist, you feigned a believable yawn and clung to Bucky, playing the ever-attaching wife. Bucky wished good night to the gentlemen at the table, before guiding you towards an elevator.

When the elevator doors closed and you could finally take a breath, letting go of the fake act, Bucky stepped in front of you with a hard look.

“Are you out of your mind to wear a dress like this in front of them?”

You looked down at your dress, picking invisible lint off of it.

“Do you have any idea, what kind of a position you put me in? The things they whispered,” he took a deep breath, closing his eyes, as if to calm himself. You did not understand the Russian language the way he did. Which also meant that you had no idea what kind of vulgar things they had said about you.

You saw his hands shake on the railing on the wall, that he’d gripped, his knuckles turning white on his right hand with how hard he was gripping it.

“Fuck, doll-” he looked at you then, his baby blue eyes a shade darker, before he suddenly gripped your jaw and made you look up at him. “You only belong to-” He was cut off by the elevator doors opening and he nonchalantly let go of you, walking off to your shared hotel suit.

You followed him, still ashamed and, confusingly enough, a little bit turned on by his demeanor. He’d never acted this way before. And what was he almost about to say?

As you shut the door of the suit, you immediately felt his breath on your neck. A gentle, but rough hand moved strands of your hair off your shoulder, before chuckling deeply.

Bucky placed his forehead in the crook of your neck, before letting out a deep breath. His hands then found their way to your waist, pulling you closer to himself.

“Y/N, do you have any idea, what you do to me?” You felt his lips move on your skin, which made you shudder and the most obscene thoughts filled your head. He whispered your name again.

“If I had known any better, I’d think you got jealous when poor old Maksim made that suggestive comment,” you finally whispered, your forehead resting on the door. Bucky pressed himself closer to you, leaving you sandwiched between him and the brown wooden suite.

“Only I can make comments like that about you. No one else.” He kissed the side of your neck, your head automatically falling on his shoulder. It was as if you had no control over your body; you only moved on his accord.

“You’re mine.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x you

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 month

Text

Melodic Rivalry ~ KNJ

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

GENRE: Enemies to lovers, implied sexual interaction, surprise pregnancy, hiding pregnancy trope, angst, soft ending [Didn't include smut as it's an anon and I don't know your age, so it's implied that they have sex xx]

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

⤜MASTERLIST

You stared down at the magazine with a disgusted look on your face, a photo of you and Namjoon on the cover with giant smiles on your faces as you sat together but the shot wasn't real. The two of you could never sit still long enough for a photo to be taken so the magazine had to photoshop the two of you together to fit the story that they had written and published.

All about how you and Namjoon were the perfect team, both of you had undeniable talent and worked well together in the studio. Namjoon was a musician with the knack of composing soul-stringing melodies, his talent knew no bounds and his music had the oer to move even the most stoic of souls. You were a producer with an unparalleled ear for sound, with the ability to transform raw talent into polished masterpieces and despite working well together in the music industry that was where everything stopped.

The two of you were like oil and water - constantly at odds with each other. Your egos clashed, your opinions collided, and your tempers flared at the slightest provocation. Working together was fraught with tension, each session devolving into a battle of wills and creative differences but each time the music came out brilliantly.

As you got to the studio door you pushed it open and found it dimly lit, the only light coming from a soft glow of a mixing console. Namjoon sat at his piano, his fingers dancing across the keys getting lost in whatever he was composing so you stood at the soundboard, your arms folded across your chest as you stared at him. He was supposed to be working on something more upbeat, not another love ballad he was no doubt writing.

"Oh, how touching. Another one of your generic love ballads, I presume?" You asked sarcastically, ignoring the glare that Namjoon shot your way, his jaw tight as he stared down at the keys.

"If you have something to say, Yn, say it. Otherwise, keep your critiques to yourself." He said through gritted teeth.

"Typical. Can't handle a little criticism, can you?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"Criticism? All you do is tear down everything I create! You have no respect for my talent!"

"Respect? Please. You're the one who waltzes in here with your inflated ego and expects everyone to bow down to you."

The tension in the room was thick with unresolved animosity but you stared at one another, your eyes twitching.

"For someone who claims to hate my music so much, you spend a lot of time listening to it." You stared at him, shaking your head and scoffing a little. Of course, you listened to it, you had to because it was your job.

"That's because it's my job, you arrogant prick!" You cried out, your anger way past your boiling point now but Namjoon just stood up and took a step closer to you, his gaze burning with intensity.

"Is that the only reason?" He asked softly, your breath caught in your throat, your resolve weakening with each passing moment.

"Of course not." You whispered, your voice barely coming out. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between you. And in that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet sanctuary of the studio.

Without a word, Namjoon closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. And then, in a rush of pent-up emotion, your lips met in a searing kiss—a collision of desire and frustration that sent shockwaves through you both.

For a moment, you were lost in each other, your bickering and resentment fading into the background as you surrendered to the undeniable chemistry that had always lingered between you.

But as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, leaving you breathless and uncertain. You stepped away from him, your fingertips gently touching your lips as you stared at him.

"We shouldn't have done that." Your voice trembled a little as you looked up at Namjoon, his eyes were blazing.

"Why not? We both know there's something between us." He stares down at you.

"This... this is madness. We can't stand each other." You whimpered, shaking your head at him, Namjoon stepped closer to you though, his voice dropping as he stared down at you,

"Maybe that's because we're so alike. Two stubborn souls fighting against the inevitable." You determined to hate him, to push him away from you crumbled, your walls tumbling down in the face of Namjoon's unwavering honesty.

"We can't even stand to look at one another." You mumbled at him, it was true. The two of you could barely go ten minutes without a fight breaking out. The kiss had been a one-off, the passion and sparks you'd felt were nothing more than a static shock or something.

"Stop fighting it, are you scared?" He smirked at you and you hated him for it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face,

"No," You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes as you tried to ignore the way your heart was thumping for him, the way your palms were sweating.

"Everyone knows we should be together, we should just embrace it," Namjoon smirked, your eyes meeting as you bit down on your lip. You had your reservations, the two of you bickered like an old married couple and you weren't sure it was healthy.

"Stop overthinking it," He whined before your lips met once more, the tentative kiss turning quickly into a fiery passion neither of you could deny. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as finally that pent-up tension and longer erupted into a raw and unbridled kiss.

"I've wanted to do that for so long." Namjoon rushed out, his voice husky as you worked on unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing,

"Me too." You breathed out, kissing him deeply as he carefully took you over to the sofa, both of your clothes being strewn around the room as the kiss between you heated up once again.

Ever since that night in the studio with Namjoon, you did everything within your power to avoid him, you started working from home, switching to another group to work with not being able to face him but today had been inevitable, you had to go into work because of a meeting with Hannah, your manager and also one of your best friends.

The two of you had shared one night of unbelievable passion but when you woke up the next morning he was gone, his clothes were gone and there was a note on his desk asking you to lock up when you were dressed. Since there you'd not even received a text asking how you were, or even a call and you hated him more for it.

I've wanted this for so long.

Had been such bullshit, something he was saying just so that he could get laid, anger bubbled inside of you until you snapped the pencil you were holding.

"You okay? You look unwell," Hannah said as she gently rubbed your back, you were feeling a little under the weather but you put it down to the fact that you were going to have to face Namjoon sometime soon.

"Just a little queasy, that's all." You said with a forced smile, trying to brush it off but Hannah narrowed her eyes at you and exchanged a look with John, one of your other work friends.

"You've been feeling off for a while now, maybe take some holiday days." He suggested with a furrowed brow. It wasn't like you to get sick which was a little concerning for all of them.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." You muttered weakly, slowly standing up from the desk as your stomach churned with anxiety and a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

"Yn?" Hannah called out but you sat back down in the chair, your bin between your legs as you threw up the contents of your stomach again.

"Here, drink this," John said as he slid you over a glass of water, Hannah was running to her desk and rummaging through it all.

"Hans? What are you looking for?" You mumbled, wiping your mouth with a tissue and staring at her as she walked back over to you.

She was the only person other than you and Namjoon that knew what happened in that studio 6 weeks ago and John frowned at the blue box.

"Take it," She told you plainly, John sent her a puzzled look with confusion written across his face.

"I...I can't...It'll make it all real," You'd had your suspicions that it was true but you figured if you ignored it long enough and denied it then it couldn't be real.

"Take it, we'll be here for you, no matter what," Hannah told you as John nodded, helping you stand up as they all walked you toward the women's toilets.

Those three minutes you were supposed to wait for the test felt like three hours, each second ticking by tortuously slowly as you, John and Hannah stared around the small office waiting for it to tell you the truth.

"Time," John said as his watch began to beep, your hand linked with Hannah's and you stared down at the pink stick, tears brimming inside of your eyes.

"I'm pregnant." Your voice trembled and instantly you were engulfed in a hug from your two favourite people.

"Work from home until we figure something out," Hannah told you, running her hands over your cheeks and wiping away the tears.

It had been almost five months since discovering you were pregnant and you'd done everything you could to hide it from Namjoon. If he had done everything to get you to leave him alone after your night together then you weren't going to tell him about the kid but the weight of hiding it was crushing you.

You paced around your office, a mix of fear and uncertainty raging inside of you as you waited for John to hurry back with the next stack of assignments you needed to work through.

"Everything is there, I'm sorry I promise next time I'll bring them to you. I'm just swamped." John said as he gave you a bag, you nodded quickly kissing his cheek and making a dart out of the door. You needed to get out of the building before anyone could spot you and the news got back to Namjoon.

Lost in your thoughts as you walked through the halls, you nearly collided with someone as you rounded a corner. You slowly looked up and whimpered finding Jungkook standing there,

"Hey! Sorry! Are you alright?" He frowned staring at you,

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed nervously but you just shook your head at him,

"I'm fine, just a bit...distracted." You said with a forced smile but Jungkook's browns knotted together as he slowly looked down at you, his eyes lingering on your swollen belly/

"Is everything okay? You look like you're about to pop.." He laughed softly and your heart raced, panic bubbling up inside of you as you struggled to come up with an explanation. Jungkook had seen you those seven months back coming out of Namjoon's studio with a freshly "fucked" look on your face.

"Yeah, everything's good. Just...tired, that's all." You said hesitantly, smiling weakly as he stared down at you.

"It's his...right?" He waited for you to say something but you didn't even want to admit it to yourself, admitting it to Namjoon's bandmember was going to be damn near impossible,

"Jungkook." You pleaded, shaking your head at him as if asking him to stop all of this.

"Yn, is it his?" You stared at him, your stomach churning with anxiety as you tried to think of something to say but your mind was racing at a million words a second.

"Please, Jungkook, you can't tell Namjoon. He can't know about the baby." Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at you. Everyone knew how badly Namjoon wanted to be a father and hiding something like this from him would no doubt kill him.

"Why didn't you tell him? He has a right to know." He didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, he knew you were pregnant and in a delicate place right now but Namjoon deserved to know he was going to have a kid.

"He lost that right when he made it clear that night meant nothing to him like he claimed it did." You grumbled, pulling your coat over to cover your bump to make sure no one else was likely to see you.

"Yn," Jungkook said slowly but you held your hand up,

"Don't make excuses for him Jungkook. He fucking used me." Your voice trembled as tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of everything finally causing you to crack.

"You can't hide this from him forever. He has a right to know."

"Just let me figure things out first." You mumbled, begging him as he stared down at you.

"Fine." He stared at you as you nodded, slowly walking away from him as you felt an impending doom hanging over you, threatening to shatter everything you'd built to protect yourself.

After you left Jungkook stood outside of Namjoon's studio, his heart heavy with the weight of the truth he was about to reveal. As much as he wanted to keep your secret he didn't want to do that to his friend and he knew there was more to the story than Namjoon ignoring you after a night together.

"Joonie, we need to talk." He said as he walked into the studio, Namjoon frowned at him but nodded for the youngest member to sit down.

"What's up?" He asked him slowly as Jungkook's throat tightened, his head muddled trying to find the right way to say it.

"It's about Yn." Namjoon's hand on his pen tightened,

"What about her?" He asked, animosity laced in his voice as he thought about you.

"She wanted to come crawling back to us? I don't want her working with us anymore." He grumbled out, Jungkook eyed him up as he stared at him wondering what had gone so terribly wrong between the two of you.

"She's not welcome here anymore."

"Why?" There was going to be no more dancing around the topic and not mentioning your name as if you were Voldemort.

"She knows what she did wrong." He hissed making Jungkook frown. It seemed the two of you believed the other was in the wrong.

"What did she do, Hyung?"

"She slept with me when she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home." Jungkook knew you were single, you'd devoted every single second of your life to music.

"Boyfriend? Noona doesn't have a boyfriend."

"So who was John? He was texting her all night, asking where she was and when she was going to go back to him because he was waiting for her back home." None of that made sense,

"John is one of her co-workers, he works with TXT," Jungkook told him before realisation began to register with Namjoon who the man had been.

"So...W...What did you want to talk to me about?" Jungkook sighed a little.

"She's pregnant, Namjoon. Seven months along." Namjoon's world came to a crashing halt as he stared at him, his mind reeling in disbelief and confusion.

"How?" He asked shocked, Jungkook hesitated, his gaze filled with sympathy as he watched everything hit Namjoon.

"You know how." He said softly but Namjoon just stared at the floor. The truth hits him like a ton of bricks, everything falls into place. Your sudden avoidance, working from home and refusing to be their producer anymore. It was all making sense now.

"She's carrying my child," He whispered as Jungkook sighed a little.

"She asked me not to tell you but you needed to know," Namjoon nodded at him, barely acknowledging him as he slowly got up and made his way out of the studio.

Before he knew what was happening Namjoon was outside your place and knocking on the door. He knew it was going to be hard to talk to you about all of this since so much time had passed but it was time to face the truth.

"We have to talk." Namjoon said as soon as you opened the door to him, your chest aching with seeing him standing there. You knew Jungkook wouldn't have been able to keep his mouth shut so you'd been preparing for him.

"What about?" You stared at him as he took in a deep breath,

"About the baby," His eyes were filled with something you'd never seen from him before, he looked so vulnerable.

"What about the baby?" You asked, stepping to the side and letting him into your apartment.

"I want to be a part of their life, Yn. I want to be there for them, to watch them grow up, to be their father." Your breath caught in your throat at his words,

"Why? You practically kicked me out the night after we had sex so why all of a sudden do you care?"

"I thought you had a boyfriend! Okay? I saw a text from John and I thought-"

"That I was whoring myself out to everyone so you just decided to give me the cold shoulder?" You snapped angrily at him, you couldn't believe he would do something like this.

"You're the one hiding my child from me!" He grumbled at you and you sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

"This is why we can't do it together. We fight all the time, we just scream at each other." You mumbled, sitting down on the sofa and feeling completely defeated.

"Yn."

"Can you look at me and tell me that when this baby comes it'll work out between us?" You didn't want to keep his kid from him but you also were scared of everything that was coming,

"No."

"So-"

"But I love you, okay? Fuck, I've loved you for so long and I just never show it right." You stared at him in complete shock.

"I love you and I love our baby. I may not have been ready to admit it before, but now...now I can't imagine life without you."

"But-" You barely had a chance to object before Namjoon continued.

"The last seven months without getting to see you have been torture. I miss the jabs you used to say, I miss seeing you...Please."

"We've both made mistakes, Yn. But that doesn't mean we can't try and make things right. For the sake of our child, and for the sake of our love." Tears built inside of your eyes as you struggled to process everything.

"I want to believe you, I do...but...But I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt, scared of losing you again." You finally admit, your tears free falling as you finally let yourself admit you loved him back, that you were hopelessly in love with him.

"I won't let that happen, Yn, I promise you. Just give me a chance to prove it to you and show you how much you mean to me."

"I love you too," You whispered to him, your heart racing as he smiled down at you.

"We can try." You told him as he hugged you close to him,

"Tell me everything I've missed? D-Do you have photos?" You nodded at him, slowly taking him through to your bedroom to get the album you'd already started making of your ultrasounds.

A soft glow filled the cosy living room as you and Namjoon sat together on the couch, your laughter mingling with the sound of your son's joyful giggles. It had been a year since that fateful night when Namjoon had shown up on your doorstep, and in that time, your lives had changed in ways you could have never imagined.

Your son toddled around the room with boundless energy, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement as he chased after his favourite toy. Namjoon watched him with a smile, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of his little boy.

"Look at him go, babe. He's getting so big." He said with a giant grin on his face, you smiled as you stared at him, your eyes shining with love as she reached out to ruffle his hair.

"He's growing up so fast. I can't believe he's already a year old." You whined, you hated that it was going too quickly. You wanted him to stay young forever.

"I'm so grateful for you, Yn. For him. For everything." Namjoon said as he kissed your head softly. Your heart swelled with emotion at his words, your eyes shining with unshed tears as you reached out to take his hand in yours.

"And I'm grateful for you, Namjoon. For giving us a second chance, for never giving up on us." Your voice shook a little and he kissed you softly.

In that moment, as you sat together in the warmth of your shared love, you knew that they had found something truly special—a love that had weathered the storms of doubt and uncertainty, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #kim namjoon #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon imagines #kim namjoon x reader

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hearts-are-connected · 4 days

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Dang it, I love this ship and I love the enemies to lovers trope. I get that a lot of people see them as a surrogate father and daughter relationship, but it feels like a been there/done that kinda thing.

As much as I love that trope, I'm also a little tired of it. There's only so much Last of Us style found family I take after seeing it for so many years.

The thing I love about VaultGhoul or Ghoulcy is the idea of Lucy breaking down of Cooper's walls while he helps build hers up.

Is he incredibly cruel to her and those around him in the first season? Yes, extremely

Does he need to chill out and find some of his humanity that's been buried under 200+ years of wasteland survival and bitterness? Yes

Who can bring that needed direction to his life while learning the ways of the new world she finds herself in? Lucy MacLean

I know that the canon ship of the show at this moment is Lucy and Maximus, and as much as I love him, I find the pairing obvious and kind of boring from a story telling perspective. I loved it on my first viewing, but upon re-watching the series, I wasn't as behind it as before. I see their relationship, kiss and all, as a kind of first fling for the both of them.

While it doesn't diminish the care they show one another, there's not a lot behind them as a couple. Now I know that some people might turn around to say how she and Cooper spent less time together than her and Max, but I guess the thing I look forward to is seeing what their relationship brings with the second season.

I feel like Max and Lucy will have a great friendship and I'm interested to see where the Brotherhood fits into their dynamic as well.

With Cooper though, I find his story so tragic, as it's supposed to be. He's your standard hardened survivor who only looks out for himself that's now stuck with the happy-go-lucky main character, however, she's not that character anymore by the end. She's still going to be the Lucy we love, but she's changed by the end. While not losing her compassion and some optimism, I think Cooper is going to bring out a harsher side to her as we saw when she bit off his finger.

I want to see her building up her walls and learning when to let them down. How to truly survive while still bringing her own energy to the wasteland and people around her. I want to see Cooper regaining some lost humanity while learning to truly care for another person again. To see the two of them as eventual equals in one another's eyes as they continue on their journey as reluctant allies.

I also want to say that I'm personally kind of tired of the 'age gap' argument. We have stories of teenagers falling in love with hundred year old vampires. So can we just drop the age gap thing?

As long as they're both consenting adults who understand what they're getting themselves into, who cares about an age gap.

Does it truly matter in the scheme of things when we're talking about a world with cryo-stasis and super mutants?

I personally don't think so.

I don't know if anyone will even bother reading this entire thing, and I know I went on a little long, but I wanted to write down my thoughts on the whole shipping situation with the Fallout TV show fandom at this moment.

I'm a VaultGhoul shipper and I can't wait to see where the second season takes our main trio of characters.

#fallout show #fallout amazon #ghoulcy #lucy x cooper #vaultghoul #cooper howard #lucy maclean #a ghoul and his girl #a girl and her ghoul #I ship it #Can't wait for season 2

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teastyun · 5 months

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some spicy Abby x reader recs ✂️

author‘s note: no gatekeeping in this household! please let me know if any of the links won’t work and if you'd like some Ellie recs

spicy ellie recs

• Fuck Me Yourself, Bitch by oh_stars_im_tired (ao3)

ᰔᩚ enemies to lovers - top!Abby, bottom!reader

↬ unresolved tension,, made me wish Abby was real UGH it’s so gut wrenchingly good (overall one of the best Abby x reader author on ao3!!)

↬ also slightly angsty but the smut makes it even

• Lead me from the dark by danicruel (ao3)

ᰔᩚ friends to lovers - top!Abby, bottom!reader

↬ after a blackout in the stadium the reader and Abby find themselves in reader‘s dorm

↬ so wholesome,, made me blush so hard

↬ girl in red references <3

↬ love the author since they include all types of readers in their fics + their writing style is *chefs kiss*

• sweet temptations by elsdolly

ᰔᩚ best friends to lovers - top!Abby, bottom!fem reader

↬ mourning turns into love aaaaaah

↬ Abby looses control and it's soo hot

surprise visit by atomicami

ᰔᩚ enemies to fuck buddies/lovers? - top!Abby, bottom!reader

↬ contractor/engineer Abby x reader as Joel's daughter 🫣

↬ both parts are soo good and the author has such a smooth writing style!! def recommend checking them out too

you-know-who by lucidfairies

ᰔᩚ (age gap) unresolved tension to finally banging lol - top!Abby, unexperienced bottom!reader

↬ reader's dad's business party and wet crush turns into reality aaaaah

↬ she's such a mommy in this one (i was thriving)

trash talk by graceheartspedro

ᰔᩚ enemies to fuck enemies (crying) - top! Abby, bottom! reader

↬ slight angsty undertone due to the angsty relationship but the hate sex *chefs kiss*

↬ part two healed my heart omg and Manny is such a mood 😦

nsfw alphabet w abby by catfern

↬ felt like an Abby dictionary and i loved every second of reading it

↬ author has such a relatable writing style!!

↬ if butter was a fanfic it would be this?? idk how to explain this hahahah

run. by publicenemy666

ᰔᩚ slasher!abby, fem! reader

↬ hear me out,, i normally dislike reading horror where spice is involved, but this was sooo interestingly plotted i couldn't stop reading it aaaaah

↬ all in all such a detailed writing style that it makes it so intriguing

and they were roommates by angelkissiies

ᰔᩚ roomates/friends to friends with benefits - top!Abby, bottom!reader

↬ my FAVOURITE trope and it hit all the spots

↬ the title made me giggle so much i instantly liked the author 😭

come over by ourautmn86

ᰔᩚ enemies to fuck buddies? - top!Abby, bottom!fem reader

↬ Y'ALL this is embarrassing but i was at point in my cycle where not only my 🐱 was shacking but my WALLET too bc this fic made me impulsively order a dildo?? 😭 i wish i was kidding but you count that as a sign that it's a very good fanfic hahaha

↬ love the author's writing style and the way the plot just smoothly evolves in their fits!!

thanks for reading <3

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWELVE

in which you grapple with new emotions of nothing, eddie makes a few bad jokes, and honesty becomes an illusion again.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 3.8k+

→ a/n: half way point, folks! sorry this one is shorter. blame eddie?

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

12:00 ────────ㅇ───────── 24:00

JOHNNY BOY: No photo, no money, right?

ARGYLE 😎: learn some patience broski

JOHNNY BOY: It's been an hour and they aren’t answering. They haven’t said anything. I want my money.

DINGUS: why the fuck are you guys blowing up the chat right now? someone better be dead.

ARGYLE 😎: the lovers haven’t sent their hourly update.

ARGYLE 😎: maybe they are dead. killed each other with passion.

JOHNNY BOY: So what are we buying with that spare 1k, guys?

BIRDIE: oh fuck please tell me they aren’t dead

BIRDIE: did they seriously kill each other? do i need to facetime them?

DINGUS: @BIRDIE honestly, for once, you have a good idea. facetime them. i would call but… something tells me i need to back off for a while.

JOHNNY BOY: I take it you remembered that night at the bar?

DINGUS: oh fuck off (yes. i did.)

BIRDIE: i’m facetiming them now.

DINGUS: great. i’m going back to bed.

JOHNNY BOY: I think I’m going to buy a new camera with my cut of the money personally.

—

HOUR TWELVE - 3:00 AM

One of you should have moved.

It could have been minutes, hours, decades later. The concept of time is completely lost on you as you focus on the weight of Eddie lying over you. He’s half draped across your back, bare chest sinking into your exposed skin, throwing the brunt of his weight in the sliver of cushion available to him beside you. His softening cock is still inside of you, the warmth of him is encasing you from the inside out. You match each deep inhale of his with your own, exhaling on the same silent beat. An unspoken moment of synchronicity, letting the weight of the decisions just made truly crawl beneath both of your skins.

I hate you.

Good, then this changes nothing.

You wondered if he tasted the sour of his lie in the heat of the moment. You wondered if it was just as metallic on his tongue as it had been on your own.

One of you should have moved. But it takes the realization of your incapability to truly hate Eddie Munson as you should and the twitch of your body that follows to rouse Eddie.

“Fuck,” he sighs out, finally pulling out, turning to fully fit his body onto the couch rather than on top of you. You dangle a leg and arm over the edge of the sofa, keeping your cheek pressed to rough fabric and your eyes turned from him as you bite your tongue.

A million words you want to say in the clarity, all lost and slipping between your fingers with time.

I lied. I don’t hate you. This meant everything. This changes everything. I don’t hate you.

“Fuck is right,” you settle on murmuring instead. There’s nothing you can say now that can change what’s transpired. It’s over, it’s done with. Rather than staying stuck in the past still in your rearview mirror, you need to focus on the road laid out ahead of you two.

The two of you lay like that for even longer than you had the previous position, shifting here and there until you both fit comfortably on the lumpy cushions. Side by side, almost spooning, but space left between you. You don’t think Eddie even realizes his hand is grazing soft circles over your thigh, moving on its own accord and sending shivers of comfort down your spine.

Is the road ahead of you two even paved?

“What now?” he suddenly asks, breaking the silence you two had been reveling in. You had been in your own head, and you wonder for a moment if he had been as well. You can’t find it in yourself to glance over your shoulder and look at him, to solve the mystery on your own, instead clinging to those grazes of his fingertips still skimming your thigh.

With an exhausted sigh, you zero in your focus across the room, looking at the clock on the shelves, “I don’t know. It’s already three in the morning, so-”

“Oh, fuck.”

“What?”

“It’s fucking three,” Eddie is shooting up from behind you quickly, “We never sent a fucking picture.”

You understand his panic immediate, realization settling as he springs off of the couch, echoing his words with sincerity, “Oh, fuck.”

In any other scenario, it would have been comical to see a nude Eddie panicked and rushing about his apartment living room. To see him disposing of the condom, to see him struggling to pull back on his sweats and t-shirt before he’s disappearing into his bathroom and emerging seconds later with a blushing face and a wet rag.

He returns to you in an instant, murmuring the world’s softest apology before he swipes the cold cloth over your sore cunt, making you hiss out in surprise.

“What the Hell-”

“I said I was sorry!” he defends, tossing the rag to the floor before he’s grabbing your clothes, his clothes technically, and handing them over to you, “Figured you’d want to be dressed before we send the photo.”

“I-” you stare at the clothes with a contorted face, still trying to brush off the exhaustion that came with the sudden change in atmosphere. You hadn’t even gotten to maneuver the aftermath of it all, pilferage the rubble and bring up the possible path-not-yet-road that you two had to face going forward.

What did this mean for you two now? What did this mean for the remaining twelve hours?

Nothing, you suppose. Maybe you don’t need to ask those questions, because Eddie already answered them for you. It changes nothing.

“Thanks,” you numbly say and take the clothes from him. He grabs your phone off the floor as you shrug the clothing back on.

What the fuck were you expecting?

It was a one time ordeal. It was just a quick fix to get it out of both your systems. Just because you were needy, because you were craving a conversation about it all, didn’t mean Eddie was. There was no difference here between what transpired between the two of you and some random hookup. No feelings, no strings attached. The only difference was the obligation to spend another twelve hours together, if your friends hadn’t already decided their altruistic grace periods had hit their limits.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie grumbles, looking over your plethora of notifications, “Fifty fucking texts. Seven missed calls. We’re fucked,” When you let out a sharp laugh, he looks up from the screen at you, furrowing his brows, “What’s so funny?”

“Can you imagine making it halfway only to fuck up because we were getting along too well?” you snort, unable to help yourself. Twelve hours. You two had managed what already felt impossible, only to screw it all up because you two couldn’t keep it in your pants. Maybe if you admitted that to your friends, they would let the bet continue. You can already imagine Robin’s yips of glee at the prospect.

Eddie’s worrisome look begins to crack, the corners of his mouth twitching, “I… That would… suck.”

His voice is wavering, barely able to keep it together and withhold his own amusement as you beckon for him to hand over the phone, both of you sitting back on the couch, thighs pressed together.

“Suck is one way to put it,” you giggle, barely glancing at the missed notifications, “Seriously. We made it this far. And it’s not like we weren’t together… We were. A little too literally.”

If this is the closest you two come to talking about it, you can handle that.

Eddie finally barks out a laugh, “Yeah. Maybe we took the bet too literally.”

“Just a little bit,” you shimmy a shoulder against his, forcing all laughter and smiles and drowning out any worries that continued to persist in your chest. Now wasn’t the time. This was enough. You can handle it.

Your phone lights up with a Facetime call, making both of you jump.

Robin.

“Oh, no,” you groan, eyes pinching shut.

“It could be worse,” Eddie notes, leaning into your space. His side presses into yours and it makes you want to die, “At least it’s just Buckley.”

You shake your head, ignoring the burn he ignites in you with every slight touch still, grumbling, “Right, it’s just Buckley.”

The two of you had sex. It should be out of your system. There was no need to continue to feel goosebumps raise when his shoulder knocked yours, when his knee slotted up against yours. It has to be out of your system.

You swipe your thumb to answer the call against your better judgment.

“Oh my God, you two idiots are alive! I swear to God, we thought you two killed each other! I almost had to go across the hall and have Steve predial for the cops if you two didn’t answer, I-”

Robin’s rambling begins without so much as a hello. She’s speaking a mile a minute, taking no breaks, no pauses, no breaths, as you stare blankly at the screen where she’s half hidden in the shadows of her dark room.

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers, eyebrows raising. You watch him through the screen, afraid to turn your actual face towards him. You don’t trust yourself. It should be out of your system, but it isn’t. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone talk so fast-”

“Fuck off, Munson,” despite Eddie’s effort to keep his voice low, Robin picks up on his words mid-rant, “My point is, we were worried. Why didn’t you send your photo or answer any calls?”

“We forgot,” you supply lamely. You catch Eddie’s fight against a smirk as he coughs over the beginnings of a scoff, and immediately shoot your elbow that’s out of frame into his side.

Robin narrows her eyes at the screen, “You just forgot? How? No offense, but I can’t see you two getting distracted, especially with each other. We’ve all been under the assumption you just… sit on opposite sides of the room, and pretend the other doesn’t exist.”

Eddie coughs again, followed by a grunt from another pierce of your elbow.

“Have you considered that we might have been sleeping?”

“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”

“I’m so glad that you’re all-knowing, Buckley,” Eddie says as he composes himself, “Where would we be without a sleep expert?”

You finally turn your head to glare at him face-to-face rather than through the screen, trying to warn him to back off. Robin could go hours in the ring with Eddie, and you weren’t exactly in the mood to listen to the two banter off each other. He meets your warning gaze with wide eyes, almost as innocent as a child caught in the act. You can’t even stay mad at him – the moment those autumn brown eyes meet yours, soft and gooey and terribly laced with tempting gold, you’ve melted for him. All your defenses fall.

You need to talk about it. You need to know if he means it.

“What does that even mean?” You ask as you slowly turn your head away from Eddie, “What exactly are we supposed to look like after sleeping?”

“I don’t know. Messy hair, squinty eyes, maybe some dried drool and appearing more… more… caught off guard?” Robin rattles off her list as she stares at them through the screen, shifting around from where it looks like she’s laying in bed, “Actually, now that I’m saying all this outloud, maybe you guys were sleeping,” you and Eddie freeze up in sync. Technically, you two could pass off as the Facetime being a rude awakening in your mutual dishevelment – both your hair and Eddie’s was messy as could be, shirts looking to be twisted from putting them on so carelessly. Hell, at your own detrimental embarrassment, you bet Robin would spot dried drool on your face if she looked close enough. Just not for the reasons she would believe, “Shit, yeah, okay. I believe you guys. You were sleeping. Our bad.”

Just as you sigh in relief, Eddie’s face blooms with a wicked grin.

“That or we were fucking.”

It comes to your attention now that it is very hard to decipher when Eddie is joking. You wonder just how many times you had misinterpreted his sarcasm, how many times he had said a blatant truth only for you to take it for a grain of salt.

Most of all, you wonder if Robin catches your distress at him actually exposing you two. You don’t even have it in you to shove your elbow especially painfully into his side this time, completely dismayed and unsure of what to say.

She doesn’t catch it. She only snorts, rolling her eyes, “Right. Of course – or that.”

You’re still unable to respond as Eddie continues to grin, laughing along with Robin, including her in an inside joke she had no idea of her involvement in. She has no idea.

Because you guys were fucking. You’d had sex with Eddie, let him use you and throw you around like a goddamn rag doll. And now, here he was, so casually joining around with your mutual friend about it as if it were some absurd dream. Some stupid joke, some unreasonable thought of something that could never possibly happen.

“Okay, well I’ll let you guys go back to bed-”

“Or jumping each other’s bones,” Eddie interrupts Robin.

She makes an exaggerated gagging noise, though the corners of her mouth are pulled up in a smile, before continuing, “And I’ll let everyone know we probably won’t get an update for the next hour. Just… don’t kill each other, alright? Who knows, maybe you guys can even become friends?”

You wait for Eddie to take the punch line of something along the lines of being friends with benefits, to make a spectacle yet again of what had just transpired to an unsuspecting Robin.

It meant nothing to him. It was all a joke to him.

“See ya, Robs,” you offer weakly, numbly, hardly able to raise a hand to wave her off. You know that to her, this is just a symptom of fatigue. The type of tired solved by crawling back into bed and sleeping it off. She’s not worried; she even grins wider as she says her final goodbyes to you and Eddie before the call ends.

Eddie knows better than Robin.

He waits a few seconds after the call has ended and his apartment has fallen silent again, watching your slow movements as you sit your phone down on the arm of the couch.

You lied to yourself, clearly. This incessant ache in you, this question that has begun to run laps in your mind, will never be satiated or sedated through joking discussions of what happened. You can’t pretend like your hips won’t carry invisible scars for the rest of your days from where Eddie’s hands scorned you, you can’t forget how his lips fit against yours in a movement easier than breathing. Kissing him, holding him, filling him had been more effortless than filling your lungs with the air necessary for survival. And you hadn’t caught onto it in the moment, hadn’t recognized your mistake and stopped this train from running off its tracks quicker than you could handle.

That’s all it was. A trainwreck. You and Eddie were a trainwreck, and the only casual so far it seemed was you.

An explosion. A glass wall. A tormented ocean. Every single transaction between you and him ended with you wounded, never him.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks when you suddenly stand from the couch, not really sure of where you were going to go but no longer capable of just sitting and thinking, pondering, drowning.

“Fine,” you curtly reply, deciding the kitchen might be a good place to start. Get a glass of water, gulp it down instead of false hope or fake niceties Eddie was probably going to shower you with now.

Or maybe there would be no face niceties. Maybe he’d go back to being cruel, and in that, not realize he was being kind to you and your heart that had grown too heavy over the last twelve hours.

“You don’t look fine,” he persists, and follows you. It nearly sparks irritation. But of all the emotions rushing through you right now, you don’t have the energy to spare for petty irritation.

“Then stop looking,” you sigh as your eyes trace over his cabinets, trying to remember which one holds his glasses. He gets too close too fast, coming up behind you and opening one of the cabinets as if he was reading your mind. A collection of mugs, plastic cups, and crystal glasses alike line the shelves. You focus on them rather than him.

“What’s wrong?” he insists, actually starting to get on your nerves now.

You didn’t want to tell him what’s wrong, because it was stupid. The most predictable cliche has come to fruition, and you only have yourself to blame. The anger he’s assuming is his fault is just misdirected. You just needed to get your emotions under control – if you could accomplish that, you could survive these last few hours.

“It’s nothing,” you push back, finally looking at him. You worry for a second that you might be teary eyed, but you know better. Your corneas burn, everything aches, but your vision is clear as day. He’s clear as day, and it makes the ache all the more unbearable, “I’ll get over it.”

You’re not supposed to want him this way. You’re supposed to hate him.

He stiffens, “Get over what?”

“It.”

“I-” he stammers at your vague response, mouth pressing into a harsh line as his eyes narrow, “Jesus Christ, how are you still this fucking stubborn? After everything that’s happened tonight? After everything that happened in the last hour?”

“I’m not stubb-” you fruitlessly try to correct, but he bulldozes on without listening.

“I thought after I had been balls deep in you, maybe we had made some progress – maybe we could be friends-”

“Are you fucking joking?” you scoff, trying to properly process the sentence he’d just said and not get hung up on him using the phrase balls deep, “I- No, okay? Sex doesn’t mean friendship, Eddie. That’s not how this works.”

“Then how does it work?” if you were stupid, you’d assume he was begging, “Please enlighten me. How do I get you to trust me?”

“Why do you need my trust so badly?” you snark back. Misdirected anger, and he’d put himself directly in the line of fire, “Why do you want that of me so goddamn badly when it’s clear that after tonight, we’ll pretend all of this never existed?”

He steps back as if you slapped him. As if he hadn’t been the one just making a mockery of whatever was happening between the two of you.

“You said it yourself,” you continue to ramble, waving around a previously fisted hand, “It changes nothing. And it’s not your problem that I struggle with that. I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself – there’s a difference.”

“It doesn’t feel like there’s a difference,” Eddie immediately snaps, “You’re mad because I said… I said that? Because I said your words back to you? Because if you can recall correctly, sweetheart, you’re the one that said it all means nothing first.”

The misdirected anger is starting to feel perfectly directly with each word that leaves his mouth, “Because you asked me if it all meant nothing first. They’re still your words, not mine!”

“I only asked that because you’ve made it very clear that you enjoy hating me.”

“You think I enjoy this?” your voice breaks with emotion, taking a step closer to him. Your toes brush his, “You think I enjoy all this fighting with you? You think I enjoy seeing you act like it’s painful to be in a room with me for more than a few seconds at a time?”

His hardening gaze, his hands twitching at his sides, the lilt of his mouth as the corner folds downward. Now that you’ve tasted him, you could never erase yourself of him.

“You really want to know what I think?” he’s not screaming like he should be. The two of you should be shouting to the ceilings, screaming until the surrounding neighbors could hear you. You want to yell until your lungs give out and noise complaints have been filed, but he’s not having it. He’s quiet as he takes the next step closer. His head dips in closer to yours, lips nearing the shell of your ear, “Do you truly want to know what I think about all of this?”

“Yes,” you whimper out, the need for yelling being swallowed down for the time being, “That’s all I want.”

It’s true. You don’t know if he can see it, the crack in your composure as you admit it, but it’s the truth. You want to see inside his mind, watch the mechanics ticking in real time. You need to know his every single thought and feeling so badly, your hands shake.

“I think,” his voice comes out as a husky whisper directly against your ear, chest just shy of brushing against yours, “you never really hated me, baby,” he pauses, and one of his hands come out to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you in closer to him, “I think, you just wanted me so badly, it made you into a dumb, angry slut.”

“You’re cocky,” you shakily laugh. You need to stop this. You need to push him away, save yourself.

You lean into his touch and silent commands, pressing up into him. Going as far as to stand up on your tip-toes so that your nose brushes against his neck.

“Am I?” he chuckles, and the sound shoots straight to your core.

You need to push him away. You need to put distance. You need to remember this means nothing.

“You asked me what I thought, sweetheart,” he goes to pull away, and you follow, “And I’m nothing if not an honest man.”

It means nothing. You can deal with your own ramifications tomorrow. You can work through the catastrophe relief come tomorrow afternoon, nurse away the heartbreak and sore disappointment.

You have him for one night. One night. To let him slip away from you is to waste it.

“Honest?” you try to scoff, but it comes out a breath against his skin, both hands now wrapping around your waist as he turns the two of you and cages you against the counter, “You… You can’t even honestly tell me why you hate me. You have to use some bullshit excuse.”

His hands rake down your sides before cupping beneath your thighs, lifting you to sit on the counter. He’s fucking smirking. Completely unaffected by your words.

“Would you like me to be honest now, doll?” he rasps, leaning back to take you in, “Or would you rather me eat that poor pussy right here, right now, on this counter?”

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#twenty four hours #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie is such a fuckin idiot

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