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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 5 months

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meeting him at the pub

(cw: age gap)

I don’t know how it happened, how I ended up chatting to the tall metalhead at the pub. But I was meeting my friends there like every other Wednesday and when I got drinks from the bar, a dark, friendly voice piped up. “Hey, nice shirt.” My head whips to the side, looking for the person who gave me the compliment.

Right there at the table, sitting alone, a huge, tall guy with long dark hair. Tattoos adorned the big strong arms distracting from his bandshirt, I think it’s from Dark Tranquility. The drawings span to his hands ending at the knuckles, that moved as he grabbed the bottle of beer standing right in front of him.

My eyes close in on his face, a ruggedly handsome one. A nose that seems to have been broken at least twice. Lips formed into a friendly smile. Serious eyes looking straight at me, eyes that had seen some shit, but the laugh lines around them speak of a man who rather likes to laugh. He also looks a bit older than me.

I almost stumble over my own feet, halting for a moment to look which shirt I’m wearing today. It’s my Death shirt, the one with the Symbolic Album art. I look back up at him, smiling. “Thanks!” I continue my trip to the bar, a pep in my step.

When I walk back with the drinks in my hand, I shoot another friendly look in his direction. One that he answers with a nod and tipping his beer in my direction. And I totally blush at the little friendly gesture. I sit down with my friends handing them their beers, but I can’t help my eyes finding their way back to him every so often, to see what he’s doing.

He’s just chilling alone, at his table, drinking his beer, looking at the TV where some kind of soccer game was being shown, playing with his phone from time to time. It is so fucking tiny in his huge ass hands. And half the time I look in his direction, his gaze is already on me. Which is making me nervous. Not because it’s creepy or anything in that sense, but because he’s attractive. Oh my, ruggedly handsome, seeming like a gentle giant, while the way he’s sitting and observing everything around him is telling a different story.

“Just go fucking talk to him.” My friend sitting to my right grins at me. I shrug. “I don’t know.” They roll their eyes. “Just do it, you little chickenshit.” I throw up my hands. “Fine, fine, okay.” I snatch up my beer and hesitatingly make my way to his table.

He’s already looking at me, sitting up straight, as I approach him and ask with a shy smile on my face: “Can I sit here?” I point at the stool across from him. He seems a bit surprised, but he nods. “Sure, take a seat.”

I sit down and then a moment of silence falls over us where we just look at each other. The corner of his mouth is tilted up, a half-smirk making his face even more handsome, a few strands of hair falling over his left eye and cheek. He seems a little bit tense and I suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. We just look at each other. And I can’t stop looking at him.

“So, you like Death too, huh?”, I ask him, and then I hear how that sounded. “The band, I mean.”, I clarify laughing. He joins in, a dark manly chuckle falling from his lips, and I can see his shoulders drop down a bit. Seeming a little more relaxed.

“I do.”, he answers. “Actually, one of my favourite bands.” His voice is a bit higher than I would have anticipated from such a big guy, he has a nice timbre and some kind of accent when speaking English, that he’s trying to mask.

“Understandably so.”, I say, going on a rant about my favourite bands. He just looks at me, stunlocked. His mouth slightly open. His eyes scanning my face, dropping down every so often. I don’t stop talking and he listens, nodding along.

“I also like Lorna Shore a lot, do you know them?”, I want to know. He shakes his head, still intently listening while only speaking every so often. “They’re a symphonic deathcore band, and my god, their music just blows you away.” He chuckles again. “And they’re in town next week, but I don’t have anybody to go to the concert with me.”, I say, turning down the corners of my mouth.

“I could accompany you.”, he chimes in which shuts me up. A friendly offer. But the way he’s looking at me is making it feel like so much more.

“Really? You would do that?”, I ask surprised.

He shrugs one of his shoulders, looking to his fingers that fiddle with the label on the beer bottle. “Yeah sure, I can be your company for that evening.”

I close my mouth and think about it for a moment. “Of course, that would be… very nice of you.” Great, I’m so eloquent when it comes to flirting with men. Especially older, tall metalheads. But the way he’s still fidgeting with the beer bottle, I think he’s having a hard time as well. Which makes his offer so much more surprising. But I’m not mad at it. Not at fucking all.

I clear my throat. “Maybe I can get the tickets and you can get the drinks?”, I suggest. I wouldn’t want this to seem like I wanted to mooch off him.

He hesitates for a bit, but then nods. “Sure.” I nod as well and drink some of my beer. So that’s that, huh?

“So, what do you do? For a living?”, I ask him. He halts for a second, and I add: “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, of course.” I tilt my head and push my cheek into my propped-up hand.

A smile forms on his lips, as he looks to the side for just a moment, but his eyes find their way back to me. “You’re a nosy one, huh?” which makes me hide my face in my hands looking at him through my splayed fingers, but he only laughs at my gesture.

“I’m actually a soldier, a mercenary. I’m currently on leave.”, he explains. My eyes widen at his words.

“Really? Damn okay.” That explains the aura around him that I couldn't pinpoint before. “So like, what’s your specialty or however this is called in the military?”, I ask, still being nosy.

His lips curl into a confident smile, his whole demeanor changing a bit. “I’m an insertion specialist.” And the way he says that makes my skin tingle, my jaw dropping down a bit. Because the tone in his voice makes me think about a certain kind of insertion. The ‘drop your clothes, get naked together’-kind.

He laughs again as he sees the expression on my face. “Get your mind out the gutter.”, he jokes.

“Huh, I didn’t say anything.”, I defend myself, weakly, holding up my hands in defense. He pulls up his eyebrows, donning a knowing smile and leaning back.

“M-hm.”, he says and his fingers wander to his lips, stroking over them absent-mindedly. “I specialize in breaking down doors and getting people out of whatever situation they’re caught in.” How he says it makes me smile, because he says it so non-chalantly, but I can see the pride behind his words.

A little silence falls over us again, but instead of being uncomfortable we just sit in it and look at each other. He drags his hand through his hair, his fingers threading through the brown strands. And I’m so normal about this. My god, why does he have to be so attractive?

“How old are you?”, he asks me, his eyes searching my face like I’d have it written on there. The first question he asked me this evening.

“I’m 25. And you?”, I return the question. He winces a bit, but he answers: “I’m 41.” I nod and sip on my beer. Well, I already assumed that he’s older than me, so I’m not really surprised by the age gap.

“I’m old enough to be your dad.”, he says and takes a sip from his beer. My eyes are glued to his lips, the way the bottle rests against them. Then he swallows and I follow the motion as the liquid flows down his throat.

I arch a brow. “No, you’re not.”

He tilts his head to his side, a little smile forming on his lips. “Well, maybe if I started early, I could be.” His eyes dart to me, for just a moment.

The other brow joins the one already sitting at my hairline. “Did you start early?”, I ask him.

His smile gets wider while he slowly shakes his head. “No.” He takes another sip and leans back a bit.

“So, not actually old enough to be my dad.”, I conclude the conversation, a grin turning up the corners of my mouth. “I’m gonna get another drink, you want one as well?”

He looks at me, his eyes boring into me. I see the little twinkle in them, but he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I got to get home.”, he finally says, the expression on his face turning apologetic.

I hide my disappointment behind a charming smile. “Okay, no worries.”, I tell him.

He leans forward, coming a little bit closer, and I stand my ground, even as his scent hits my nostrils, and I have to damp down the excitement flooding my veins. He’s smirking at me now and raises his hand until his finger makes contact with my nose. He just booped my nose. “Tell you what though. Let’s exchange numbers and then we’ll see if you’re still up to going to a concert with me when you’re sober.”

I laugh a bit and pull out my phone from my pocket. “Okay, deal.” But his words also make me think. “Don’t you trust my judgement?”, I ask him as I hand him the device which looks ridiculously small in his hands.

He grins while tapping on the screen. “I do, but I don’t trust myself when I stare into the face of a beautiful woman.” He looks at me again and hands me back the phone, getting up. And he gets taller and taller and taller. I mean, I saw that he’s freaking huge when he was sitting down. But my god, he’s more than a foot taller than me. I have to put my head back to be able to look up at him.

“A beautiful woman, huh?”, I repeat his words back to him, ignoring the way this sentiment makes me feel.

“Aye.”, he says leaning down a bit. “Good night then.” He presses a small, almost chaste kiss onto the top of my head, while at the same time grabbing his leatherjacket. He puts the worn piece of clothing on and heads in the direction of the door.

I look down and see the new contact in my phone. His number, but instead of his name the little crown emoji sits on the top of the page. “Wait, what’s your name?”, I yell after him.

He turns around again, the long hair whipping over his shoulder, grazing over the worn leather. A grin lights up his face. “König, you know, like ‘king’ in German.”, he explains. He raises his hand again and waves goodbye, then he’s out the door.

He’s gone, but he’s still on my mind the rest of the evening while spending time at the pub, on my way home, as I’m getting ready to finally sleep. Especially the little forehead kiss lives in my mind rent-free.

When I wake up again in the morning, I contemplate what to do while I get myself a coffee. Finally, I gather my courage and shoot him a text.

metalhead!König has me in a chokehold, so this was veeeery self-indulgent. i hope you still like it <3more to come soon, because i can't wait to go to a concert with him :')

part 2 or more stuff in the Masterlist

#metalhead!könig #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #she likes the dark #tw: age gap

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shenachigans · 1 year

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I OWE YOU | Wednesday Addams

PAIRING: Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

CW: fluff, Wednesday and Y/n are not dating yet, harmless threats, sudden outburst because of trauma, mentions of trauma, Wednesday and Y/n have a crush on each other

SUMMARY: Wednesday accidentally reawakens a trauma, so she makes it up to you by letting you hug her, which turns into her spooning you on Enid’s bed.

A/N: First time writing for Wednesday and writing fluff.

WORDS: 2,450

(FANFIC IS UNDER THE CUT!)

Ever since Wednesday first attended Nevermore, she would often see you in her and Enid’s dorm to fool around with your best friend. Bursts of laughter, blasting music, and gossip would resonate from the bright side of the dorm room to the plain yet elegant black and white side of the room.

At first, Wednesday thought of the liveliness of Enid’s side of the dorm as a nuisance—an obstacle that prevents her from focusing on writing her novel. However, as months passed during the semester, she didn’t mind your presence.

Wednesday would rather carve her eyes out than admit it to your face though. The tingling and unusual sensations she felt on her chest whenever you were around irked her. It was out of her character to feel attraction towards you, but love works in complicated ways. She grew fond of the thrill of breaking character—her way of saying how she loved the feeling of liking you.

When you first met Wednesday, you didn’t mind her too much, but you weren’t scared of her like the other students were when she first came to the school. She was just there, tagging along with you and Enid, but you never found her to be a problem despite her gruesome past and rumors. She was likable, but you put your feelings aside because you knew she wasn’t looking for a relationship, let alone romance.

You grew comfortable in her presence and treated her like any other while respecting her boundaries. Which boundaries? Physical contact boundaries. It was hard not to randomly tackle someone you knew into a hug as it was your love language, but you tried your best not to make Wednesday uncomfortable. You wish you could hug her at least once in your life. You always told her why you wouldn’t touch her so she wouldn’t misunderstand—if she cared anyway.

Wednesday never told you how bloody adorable you were when you apologized for accidentally sharing a skinship. However, she also wanted you to disrespect her boundaries. She also craved what others experienced—your stubble touches and death-gripping hugs.

She wanted to feel more of your warmth against her cold-stone skin—another thought she would only think of when it was about you. She curses herself when she feels an irking feeling in her guts when she sees your arm wrapped around Enid’s as you three walk. Thing would always tease her for being touch-starved for you, even if he received threats as his replies.

──────────

Today is the first time Enid left you alone with Wednesday after she ran off like a leopard when Ajax suddenly asked her out. You didn’t want to leave Wednesday on her own just because Enid left. Hence, you stayed and waited until your best friend came back.

It was much quieter than the usual energetic night, but you nor Wednesday found the silence awkward. You two silently did your things as she dedicated an hour to her novel while casually having—well, trying to have small talks in between. Wednesday was not one to be disturbed while she wrote.

Thing was there to keep you company until Enid returned. He was an interesting fellow because he was only a hand, but he’s a sweetheart. You took selfies and played games on your phone with him until you two parted ways, as you scrolled on your social media while he read magazines from Enid’s shelf. You eventually fell asleep on your best friend’s bed after getting tired of not doing anything.

Wednesday didn’t notice your sleeping form until she had finished her hour of writing her novel. Thing even told her multiple times, but she ignored the poor appendage. After neatly stacking her finished pages in a pile, she looked at your figure, peacefully sleeping on her roommate’s bed as your chest rose and dropped with each breath.

She rose from her seat and approached you, making your soft snores audible to her ears. The bed dipped as she climbed on the bed to grab your unlocked phone to put it aside. Before she pressed the off button, she saw a selfie of you, Enid, and her winning the Allen Poe cup as your wallpaper. The smile she adores that adorned your face was so contagious it made her lips twitch upwards. She then closed your phone and placed it on Enid’s side table.

Wednesday sat on the bedside and watched your sleeping figure—curled into fetus position—with soft eyes. She leaned in to kiss your forehead as if someone had controlled her body to do so. As soon as her lips touched your skin, you flinched awake as if you had a nightmare.

Your instincts made you grip Wednesday’s shoulders and slam her onto Enid’s bed as you straddled her. You and Wednesday were caught off guard—eyes wide and huffing from the sudden actions as you looked at each other. You looked at her as if she was an assassin sent to kill you during your slumber, not your friend.

“How dare you,” you gritted as you looked down at her with stern eyes—an expression she hadn’t seen on your face before, catching her off guard again. It must’ve been because of the murderous intent that shone in your eyes as you looked at her.

Wednesday thought you were always rainbows and butterflies, but she was mistaken. Everyone has a dark side buried within their hearts, and you only masked it with your joyful and innocent mask. She does want to see that side of you—how gruesome your other self was—but tonight was not the right time.

She tried to cup your cheek to get you out of your trance, but you gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head, burying them onto your best friend’s bed. Shen then huffed and called your name with tenderness without realizing it.

“Y/n L/n, calm down,” Wednesday muttered. Her voice snapped you out of your little world, and your eyes widened when you realized the position you forced upon you two. You quickly got off Wednesday and crossed your legs before her as she did the same.

“Sorry. Instincts,” you muttered as you looked down, embarrassed by your sudden outburst. “Normies would sneak up on me and do bullshit during my sleep before I went to Nevermore—became a habit, y’know?”

You thought you stopped attacking people who touched you as you slept, but it seemed that Wednesday proved you wrong. You knew you, Thing, and Wednesday were the only ones in the dorm, so you didn’t need to react like that.

Was it because her touch felt so foreign?—something you never thought she would do? Did you suddenly attack her because the chills you felt from the warm touch of her lips caught you off guard and made you think she was someone else?

“Trauma should be the right word,” Wednesday stated as she looked at you with her signature death stare before looking down to massage her wrists to release the tension from your death grip. “Do that again, and you will have to sleep with an eye open.”

“Very funny, Addams,” you chuckled before getting up from the bed to leave Enid and Wednesday’s dorm to head to your own since it was getting late. Enid must’ve lost track of time and forgotten how she left you in the dorm With Wednesday because of Ajax. “I��d like to see you try. It’d be a challenge for you since I barely sleep.”

“Where do you think you are going?” Wednesday asked as she raised a brow—eyes following your figure as you shuffled about to get out of bed. She can’t have you leave now that you two are alone for the first time without any prying eyes. She needed to do something before you retired to your dorm. “I don’t remember telling you to leave.”

You were taken aback by the tone of her voice, as it was something you’d never heard from her before. You two are constantly surprising each other, and you find that quite romantic. First, you catch her off guard with your outburst. Second, she surprises you with her unusual tone.

“I don’t remember needing your permission to leave, Wednesday Addams,” you jokingly shot back as you returned to your sitting position on Enid’s bed. You cross your arms and lift your chin to look down at her to return her unspoken staring challenge. “I’m going to my dorm since it’s late. Why are you asking me to stay, hm? Longing-for-my-presence much?”

“Embrace me,” she simply states, making you choke on air from the sudden command. She looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as you went on a coughing fit. “Don’t die a dull death, Y/n.”

“Y-You want ME to hug YOU?” you mumbled, flabbergasted, as you regained your composure—patting your chest as you did to help you breathe. “Never thought THE Wednesday Addams would request a hug from a plain, old me.”

“It was not a request. It was a command. I’m only doing this because it seems that I reawakened a trauma of yours. Consider it as returning what I owe you,” Wednesday glared as her arms slowly spread wide, expecting you to jump in her arms as you did with others. “Don’t sit there and wait until I change my mind.”

“Of course, of course, your highness,” you teased before approaching Wednesday. Your comment made her furrow her brows with discontent, and her arms fall to her sides. Your teasing went too far, it seems. “W-Wait! I was just joking!”

Wednesday had already gotten out of Enid’s bed as pleas spilled from your mouth. She looked down at you with a bitter expression—not that you could notice—before she spun on her heel to walk to her bed. Before she could take a step, you had stood on your knees on the bed and hugged her from behind, catching her off guard. She noticed it was different from your bone-crushing embraces as it was gentler, but she liked it.

“I got carried away,” you mumbled against Wednesday’s back as you wrapped your arms around her waist, securing her in place. Her hands gently held onto your hand, making you tighten your hold on her as you thought she was breaking free, but she didn’t. “You’re huggable material, Addams. It’s cute—you’re cute,” you chuckled, content with the embrace.

“Describe me with the word ‘cute’ again, and I will not hesitate to chop your tongue off with a butcher’s knife,” Wednesday muttered as she turned to face you, making your head press on her chest. She looked down at you and saw how you looked up at her with mischievous eyes as if you were content with irritating her. “You can let go now. It seems that your usual self is back.”

“Oh, no, no. I’m still traumatized, Wednesday,” you countered and buried your face further against her. She stiffly stood there as you hogged her body to yourself. She didn’t return the embrace, but you were grateful for the one-sided embrace as it was better than nothing.

You basked in her coldness, but you could feel a slight warmth near her heart. It was comfortable, and you were happy. You two stayed in that position until you opened your eyes when an idea crossed your mind. You let her go to proceed with your plan, but you missed the slight scowl that painted her face.

“This sudden adrenaline rush won’t make me calm down easily. I command you to give me cuddles,” you huffed and pointed at her, then at Enid’s bed before laying down in a fetal position. “You’re the big spoon. Now, come,” you smiled as you patted the spot behind you. “This is part of what you owe me.”

Wednesday stood there like she was rethinking her life decisions by letting you embrace her. You simply lay there and waited for her to comply with your command. She huffed when you had no plans of changing your mind and proceeded to tuck herself into bed, not spooning you—laying on someone else’s bed was embarrassing enough for her.

“Suit yourself,” you huffed at her stubbornness, which you found cute, before succumbing to darkness again as all the adrenaline seeped out of your body as quickly as it came.

After a few minutes, Wednesday laid on her other side to face your back, watching you sleep. You weren’t in a deep sleep Wednesday thinks because you were still aware of your surroundings. She eyed your sleeping figure before scooting closer and hesitantly draping an arm around your waist.

At first, the position was awkward since Wednesday hadn’t embraced someone in bed before, but she got more comfortable when she relaxed her tense body since she found your warm soothing. She buried her face in the crook of your neck, basking in your soothing scent and lulling her to sleep. She can’t believe she’s letting her pride fail her for something as trivial as this.

“I knew you would cuddle me eventually,” you muttered, half-awake, making her slightly jolt. “You make a great big spoon, Wednesday. We should cuddle more.”

“Don’t make me change my mind,” Wednesday seethed, but you just lazily snuggled closer to her hold as you found comfort in her arms. She expected a comment, but you went back to sleep, content with the warmth of her body. “How rude,” she mumbled, a slight smile washing over her features before she followed you into the pit of darkness.

The rest of the night was peaceful as you and Wednesday slept on Enid’s bed. Wednesday had never had such a nice rest—almost cursing herself for letting her guard down during her sleep, unlike how she usually does. The dorm was unbothered because Enid had retired to Yoko’s dorm since her shared dorm was at the top of the floor. She couldn’t risk Ms. Thornhill catching her walking about in the hallways.

Unbeknownst to you, Enid almost lost her fingers the next day when she woke Wednesday with a snap of her phone camera as she attempted to take a picture of you and her roommate sleeping in a picture-worthy position. Your best friend could’ve also lost her feet if she didn’t comply with Wednesday’s command to delete the pictures of her camera roll.

“Ajax declined her date offer,” Wednesday butted in when you asked Enid about her foul mood. However, the real reason why Enid was in a gloomy mood was that she couldn’t keep the cute pics of you and Wednesday peacefully sleeping in each other’s arms. Wednesday knew Enid would post it on her blog, so she had to threaten her to gatekeep your cuteness.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #gn reader #fem reader #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader

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lum13 · 1 year

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Not so secret

You didn’t mean it for your relationship to be a secret— people just couldn’t put the two and two together.

Wednesday Addams x fem! Reader

“Oh my god, Yoko, you missed out on so much stuff today in first period.” Enid squeaked, stepping into the vampire’s full view. “I literally couldn’t believe my own eyes. Or- ears, both. My followers will freak out when they hear about this.”

“Enid, your heart is going to burst if you don’t calm down— I can literally feel your heart beating unbelievably fast. What happened?” Yoko stopped in her tracks, looking into the blond’s eyes expectantly. The girl took a second to compose herself from the overwhelming excitement, breathing in, and out, before spilling her words.

“Okay, you know how nevermore don’t usually accept new students mid-term, right? But this new girl barges into the classroom ten minutes late into the class.”

Yoko raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms. “Okay? A new girl mid-term. It’s not the first time it happened.”

Enid grinned, practically vibrating with excitement as she bounced on her foot.

“But that’s not all— the new girl sat next to Wednesday— the Wednesday Addams..” Yoko nodded, “And during the whole class, the new girl kept calling Wednesday names like love and darling—“ the vampire winced, letting out a worrisome groan.

“So when are we having the funeral?”

“Oh no— the best part is, Wednesday freaking Addams flirted back!”

“—and I hope we can get along!” Enid watched as you finished your small speech, excitement seeping through her features. She always liked meeting new people— it has always been a part of her personality.

“Thank you, you may take a seat wherever you like.” The teacher smiled at you, before leading you to the seats with a gentle nudge on your back. You quickly scanned the room— before your eyes fixated on a certain raven haired girl.

You beamed at her, dropping your bag on the desk beside her seat— drawing everyone’s attention.

Uh oh.

Enid gulped, eyeing every movement you made. Watching the two felt like watching a ticking bomb— ready to explode any second. She just hoped she didn’t have to call 911 like last time.

“What’s your name, pretty girl?” You asked— sending the dark haired girl a playful smile. Panic ran through the class like wildfire as they watched her glaring death at you— Enid whimpered, bringing her hand over her eyes, bracing herself for the chaos that was about to happen.

A beat of silence continued, before the blond heard her sigh,

“Wednesday.” The girl responded, rolling her eyes as she did so. Enid gasped audibly— slapping her hand onto her gaping mouth, unable to hide her shock.

“I love your name.” You giggled, “Wednesday is my favorite day of the week, actually. You might just become my favorite person.”

Enid felt the whole class holding their breath at the pair’s interaction, the tension soaring through the roof.

Wednesday seemed unfazed, though. Flipping through her textbook, she kept her calm demeanor.

“Your name is— tolerable, too.” She mumbled under her breath, alarming everyone in the room.

Only three words struck the classes’ mind:

What the fuck.

Enid knew Wednesday. Even though she was a bit unpredictable sometimes— she knew well enough to know that Wednesday was not a person to give out compliments to a stranger. Not in a million years did she think it was possible.

That’s why she was in front of your dorm, knocking on the door as she waited patiently for you to answer.

She heard some muffled shuffles before the door was opened, revealing you— Enid blinked in confusion— with your shirt slightly pulled to your shoulders, cheeks flushing as you leaned onto the wall beside you. You were also panting, she noted.

“Um— how can I help you?” You laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. Enid, however, decided to brush it off. You were probably sleeping, she reasoned.

“Sorry to barge in, but I just had to talk to you after what happened today.” Enid grinned, “You should totally confess to Wednesday.”

A pause. You burst out laughing.

“Oh my, but we just met today, didn’t we?” You chuckled, tucking a strand of your hair back. “Very straightforward, I see.”

“No, no— I’m serious. Wednesday that I know doesn’t let anyone compliment her. They usually end up in a hospital most of the time— only the nurse’s office when lucky. And did we forget about her compliment?? She’s totally in love with you, now kiss.”

You giggled at the seriousness in her voice, clutching your stomach as you did so.

“I must confess to this Wednesday girl then, hm?” You said between your laughter, making the blond nod her head eagerly.

“Totally, one hundred percent. It’s about time she gets a lover, plus, we can finally go on a double date!” She gushed, pulling her phone out from her pocket, before tapping on the calendar app. “Okay, confess to her, and I’ll make the schedule. Just make sure you do it before Sunday.”

You hummed, amused by the whole situation. You watched as the blond scrolled through the lists of schedules, probably looking for some empty times.

“Well, um, Ajax is probably waiting for me, so I’m gonna go now. Good luck!” Enid chirped, before dashing off. For a moment you stood there, watching her disappear into the dark void of the hallways.

“You can come out now.” You said, turning around to see your lover sliding out of your bed, brushing the dust off of her clothes.

“I am not going on a double date with Enid.” Wednesday growled, her eyes following you as you approached her now standing figure with a huge grin on your face.

“Wasn’t even planning on it.” You smiled, “I still can't believe you said that you liked my name in class, though. Who knew you were such a softie?”

“I am not, a softie.” She gritted out, sending you into a fit of laughter. “I just found it rather amusing to see how my words affected them.”

“Yeah yeah, sure. Not like you love me or anything, c’mere.” You opened your arms for a soft embrace. Your lover rolled her eyes before stepping in.

“Totally not like you love me.” You repeated, “yup— totally.”

You were gifted a punch in your stomach for that.

-extra scrapped scenes

“Love, that’s not how you treat a nosebleed.” Enid’s mouth fell agape as she watched you pinch the tip of the raven haired girl’s nose, bringing your other hand behind her head— tilting her forward as you smiled softly at her. In fact, the whole class stared at the pair’s interaction with fear.

“..thanks.” Wednesday replied, wiping her bloody nose when the crimson liquid had stopped. Your hand let go of her head, humming in reply as you turned your attention back to your textbook.

Sorry this was so rushed— it’s 3:30 right now and I can’t think straight.

This was not what I wanted it to turn out. Kinda disappointed in myself for this </3

#Wednesday Addams x reader #wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x you #jenna ortega x reader

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weirdmorefics · 8 months

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How Are Hands Attractive? (crowleyxreader)

Pronouns-She/Her

Word Count- 1,078

Summary- Reader is a witch and close friends with Aziraphale and works at the bookshop restoring books. Aziraphale asks Y/n for romantic advice for Nina and Maggie which leads to interesting covo about Crowley hands.

The day was stormy there was hardly anybody out on the street because of the terrible thunder and lightning. I was peacefully sipping her cold coffee and restoring an old spellbook that Aziraphale found. The sound of the rain was very soothing and I did not have to worry about Jim short for Gabriel bothering me because Aziraphale told him bookstores are closed on Wednesdays. Aziraphale on the other hand kept interrupting my work so he could get my opinion on most romantic situations for Nina and Maggie.

"Y/n what do you think is the most romantic thing?" Aziraphale asks.

" I don't know. Hmmm maybe leaving me alone so I can finish restoring this book in peace," I respond.

"Seriously, Y/n the book can wait! This matter is of life and death! You are sort of human so you should know more about these things than I." He says looking me very seriously in the eyes.

I sigh and very gently move the book to the side. I take a deep breath " I have personally always found hands very attractive-"

Aziraphale interrupted "How can hands be attractive? They are just helpful tools. Books always say it's the eyes that are the windows to the soul."

"Don't get me wrong eyes are pretty as well but I have always enjoyed hands they help us create they help us hold on to each other. Why did you even ask me anyway if you're just going to think I am wrong. Also, I think we both know I lack any experience or knowledge on romance." I respond annoyed.

Aziraphale smiles at Y/n, "I guess I was just curious." Then his eyes light up like something just clicked in his mind. I think if he was a cartoon a light bulb would have appeared above his head.

"Y/n!" He gasps and I give him an inquisitive look. "You are always staring at Crowley's hands so does that mean!!!"

I quickly crossed my arms across my chest denying the accusation profusely.

Crowley enters the bookshop closing a soaked umbrella, "Who is always staring at my hands."

Y/n's heart nearly pounds out of her chest and she nearly knocks over her coffee.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed-" I quickly cut Aziraphale off

I come out from behind the desk I was working at and take the umbrella from Crowley, "Don't tell me that you were outside in this weather with an umbrella you could have got struck by lightning."

Crowley lifts his glasses down to look ME in the eyes "Are you serious? A demon struck by lightning would do nothing compared to the heat of Hell."

"How should I know I've never been to Hell," I whine.

Crowley kisses the top of my head and says "And you never will."

Aziraphale smiles a plotting a smile that scares me for what he is planning. He cups his chin with both hands and tilts his head "Crowley what do you find most romantic? Y/n has been telling me what she finds most romantic to help Nina and Maggie. I can see she has quite the type. I think we might even know the guy."

Crowley's face seems to turn sour at Aziraphale probably at the notion of discussing romance so I try to assure him it is unneeded to chime in. "Please ignore him he has been like this all day. He has not let me get a single thing done today."

Instead, he completely ignores me and walks up to Aziraphale, "So what does this man that Y/n fancies have for qualities that make her swoon."

"No, I can't say that would be betraying her trust," Aziraphale puts a hand on his chest and makes a big show of it like he didn't just start this whole mess.

"Come on Angel we are all friends here! Right Y/n? What can you tell the Angel that you can't tell me," he pouts.

"You bring up a great point, Crowley! Y/n can certainly tell you about the man she fancies I don't see a reason she could not! Let me start off I know she loves this man's hands she is always staring at them it is so obvious." Aziraphael smiles brightly and if my glare back could kill he would be dead.

Crowley circles me like prey as if my answer could cure him from hunger. "I've never noticed our little sorceress staring at hands that's very impolite to stare you know."

He calls me a nickname he uses for me frequently as he knows it annoys me. "You know what's impolite to spill others secrets Aziraphale" I glare.

Aziraphale straightens his bowtie, "You never said it was a secret if you had I would not have said a peep. I am very good at secrets you know"

"The thing is I just don't understand why there is anything to hide from your good old pals!" Crowley interrupts. "Unless this guy is someone unworthy of our sorceress's heart. Then in that case Aziraphale would have a duty to tell me."

"Do not be concerned this man I have known longer than anyone. No one could compete with him he is very kind." He quickly assures Crowley.

Crowley started to look like that time when Aziraphale took Gabriel under his protection, "So he is an angel... those are the only beings you have known for the longest. I swear to Hell if it's Gabriel he is not kind Aziraphael you have no idea what he said to me when I was you! I can not believe you let him stay here! He is worse than any demon!"

I quickly put my hand on Crowley's shoulder, "It is not Gabriel I would never do that to you."

Crowley's eyes softened as he looked into your eyes but only for a second before they turned into confusion, "What other angel do you even know on a personal level!"

I saw no choice but to come clean, "It's you! You idiot!"

I took a deep breath to prepare myself for the heartbreak because I am no celestial being who will be around forever. I am just a witch I am really not that different from an ordinary human. But the heartbreak never came instead he held my face and kissed me deeply.

I was stunned speechless and he smirked "So you think my hands are romantic you say."

Bonus-

Aziraphael- Now both of you thank me! I also accept books as thank-yous Y/n has a list of the books of that I am on the hunt for! I also made photocopies of the list so you can carry the list with you at all times as a reminder.

Y/n- Shut up, Angel!

Crowley- Thank you, Angel

#crowley x reader #crowley x y/n #crowley good omens #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #good omens imagine #good omens drabble #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale imagine #fanfic blog #good omens crowley

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millyhelp · 3 months

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I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS 😂

Dumb Girlfriend.

I just cleaned my bathroom. If you are Brazilian, you will know that we mix several chemical products to clean the bathroom, and well, it was no different for me. I did it and almost died from chlorine poisoning, so I thought, why not write about it?? Im dumb, I know it

warnings: Chemicals, worried Jason, somewhat stubborn reader, mentions of death (may be seen as Brazilian or not).

You and Jason used to share household chores. Nothing too elaborate, just helping each other. But there was one thing you liked to do, clean the bathroom.

And today was Wednesday. House cleaning day. Jason was cleaning the dust off the furniture in the living room and you were cleaning the bathroom in your bedroom.

Chlorine, disinfectant, detergent, fabric softener and something white that you forgot the name of. All of these products you was using to clean the bathroom.

Lastly, you added some water and started scrubbing. It was so customary to do this since you were a teenager that you didn't even care anymore. You started to scrub the floor hard, removing all the mud and dirt you found. Of course it worked, but your eyes started to burn. You didn't care, it was normal.

You continued to scrub, fast and hard, the floor and walls. The strong smell of chemicals started to enter yours nostrils very quickly.

Your head started to spin and you felt like you were losing air. To help, the bathroom didn't have any windows.

As despair covered your mind, you ran to the bathroom door and opened it quickly.

"Jason!" was the last thing you screamed before passing out.

Upon hearing your scream, Jason became worried. He quickly ran to the room and panic covered his face when he saw you on the floor.

"Yn! What happened?!" He took you in his arms and shook your face lightly. He smelled a strong smell of chemicals coming from the bathroom. "Oh God..."

Jason walked with you in his arms to the bed and laid you down on it.

"Princess, wake up, please." Jason caressed your face with his thumb.

You were out for a good 5 minutes. Jason was already thinking about taking you to the hospital, but before he could pick you up again, you started to open your eyes.

"Are you there? Huh?" He asked looking at your eyes opening. He was checking every part of your face for any reaction.

"Jay..." You whispered and then started laughing. Jason looked at you in disbelief and confusion. "I fainted?"

"Yes! Why are you laughing?" He frowned "You could have died! What did you put in there?"

"Calm down, Jaybird..." You felt yourself on the bed with his help. His head was still spinning. You have one last laugh. "I already do this with..." you look into Jason's eyes "often?"

Jason gave you a stern look.

"Are you trying to kill yourself or something?!" He said in a stern voice, the red hood's voice. You shivered.

"No..." You lowered your head "It's not the first time it's happened..."

"What?!" Jason runs his hand through his hair "You kidding, right?"

You shake your head and Jason sighs.

"Do not do that again." He grabs your face with both hands and makes you look at him "Fuck, just... don't do it! You should at least wear protective gear! I don't know what it would be like if I lost you!"

"I'm sorry, Jay..." You bite your lip and look into his pleading eyes. You can see the fear in him.

"Just... use protection when doing these things. Masks, gloves, glasses, anything!" He kissed you sweetly. "Don't scare me like that again!" He placed his forehead on yours

"I won't." You gave a small smile

"My stubborn little girl." He smiled, "What do I do with you?..."

In fact, he already knew he was going to do it.

#I SWEAR THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORTER #HAHDJSJAKS IM JUST DUMB CUZ I DID THE SAME #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #brazilian!reader

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thegreatestsandwich · 1 year

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hi! I noticed you were looking for Xavier requests. I come with some ideas instead! (a) jealous or overprotective Xavier

(b) reader gets hurt either by the Hyde or somewhere in the fight at the end of the season

and that’s all my little pea brain can think of! Hope this helped you bc we need more Xavier fics!

Look at this forsaken mess you made me (Xavier Thorpe x f!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x f!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: Xavier has five moods when it comes to you, happy, in love, jealous, overprotective and worried...It really is an interesting combination

Warning: fluffiness and Xavier is my baby, deal with it, you will have a lot of him coming up soon

A/N: It took me YEARS to be able to learn how to write jealous :D

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

It wasn’t supposed to happened like that. You were supposed to be away this weekend. Jesus, your parents even made the trip to get you, he was there, he helped you and even cried a little when you waved him goodbye from the back window of your dad’s car.

Today, of all of the days…

Why were you here?

Xavier couldn’t think as he grabbed your face and force you to look at him, he didn’t know if he was screaming, maybe he was, his chest felt tight, like a force was forcing his breaths out of his body and you didn’t killed him, he didn't felt bad or at the edge from death for touching you, something was wrong. His hands were red and he painted your face with that color, that color wasn’t supposed to be on your face, on your body. You don’t look good in red.

“Look at me.” He force himself to speak. But there you were, staring at him blinking slowly. “Don’t you dare looking away, you hear me?”

Someone tried to pull him away from you but he didn’t let them, he would not let you go.

“Listen to me,” He cradled your body in his arms. “You listen to me, you hear me? Don’t you dare to close your eyes (Y/N).”

Your name in his mouth sounded so dirty, like it didn’t belong there. Arms surrounded his shoulders and managed to get him away from you, he began screaming and trashing, trying to get himself free and return to your side. He could see you being pulled on a gurney.

“Don’t touch her!” He screamed. “Stop!”

“Pull yourself together man.” Ajax hold him tight. “They’re taking her to the hospital, you’ll see her there.”

Xavier breathed heavily as he watched the -now clear- ambulance drive away. He nodded wordlessly and Ajax helped him get up.

“C’mon, if we go now the faster you’ll see them again.”

Xavier pushed the hospital’s door opened, crashing against the reception’s counter. “(Y/N) (L/N) was brought here minutes ago, is she alright? Can I go see her?” He spoke quickly.

The recepcionist stared boringly at him before slowly typing your name on her computer. She popped her gum ball before speaking. “What’s your relationship with her?”

Xavier bit her cheek, breathing heavily. “I’m her boyfriend.”

She hummed, watching how a group of teenagers stand next to him, she frowned before realizing where they came from. “Sorry sweetheart but only immediate family can ask about her.”

He huffed, he was getting angrier. “Look, I need to see her.”

“Yeah, but can’t do anything to help you, maybe you should all sit there like good kids and wait for your parents, okey?”

Xavier was about to strangle the lady when Wednesday carefully put a hand on his arm, moving him to de side as she stared at the receptionist. “We want to know how she is doing.”

The receptionist stared at Wednesday, “As I said to your friend, only immediate family can ask about her, kid.”

“Wait for me in the cafeteria.” Wednesday’s eyes didn’t left the receptionist as she told the others. Her eyes slowly drifted downwards to her name tag. “Carol and I will come to an agreement, isn’t that right Carol?”

Xavier couldn’t stop moving, he needed to do it, his stress was making him nervous and no matter how hard Enid or Ajax tried to calm him down but it wasn’t helpful. Footsteps made him turn to the cafeteria’s door and he saw Wednesday entering calmly, he quickly walked to her.

“How’s she?!” He exclaimed.

Wednesday stared at him before giving him a paper. “Room 204, take the elevator and turn right.” Xavier stared at her, taking the paper before nodding and running to the elevator.

The number 204 stared at him, but he froze, endless questions began appearing on his head, but he entered anyway. You were lying on the bed completely frozen, several tubes were surrounded you and he almost cried at the image. He made his way to you and almost grabbed your hand but saw that you weren’t wearing gloves.

He quickly took off a pair of them (the same pair he bought after your day at the fair) and put them on, grabbing your hand, he kissed his own hand, imagining kissing yours. “You need to wake up (Y/N), you hear me?” He whispered. “I can’t…I can’t do this without you.”

Xavier didn’t know how long he was sleep, it was uncomfortable, yes. But when the tiny movement of sheets woke him up. He blinked for a moment before your hand carefully grabbing his. “Thank God.” He grasped it tightly. Closing his eyes as tears began forming. “Thank God you’re okey.”

“What…?” You rasped, trying to sit but hissing when the pain caught your body.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He gently pushed you back to the bed. “It’s okey, I’ll explain everything, I swear.”

A knock startled him and he quickly glanced at the door, he was preparing to fight whoever force him to leave. It opened and Wednesday made her way inside, she couldn’t look at you.

“Hey.” You gently greeted her and Xavier gave her a nod.

“Hey.” She responded, “Thank you for coming to help.” She whispered.

You smiled, “We’re friends, aren’t we?” You squeezed Xavier’s hand. “I’m happy I could help.”

Wednesday nodded, “The others are downstairs, they want to come up but if you want a few more minutes of your own, I don’t mind holding them out.”

“Please.” Xavier said, “An hour if you can.” Wednesday nodded before leaving, not before looking at you once again. “She asked you to come back?”

You nodded, “Enid send me a text that Wednesday needed help.”

Xavier closed his eyes, finally feeling al the stress going out. “Are you mad?!” He pushed away from you, began pacing. “Do you have any idea what you did?!”

“I help?” You were confused.

“You almost die! You were bleeding, you understand? I held you on my arms and you almost died!”

“Xavier…”

“No! No.” He tugged at his hair. “You can’t do this, you hear me?”

“Xavier…” You tried again.

“I can’t…I can’t…” He turned, not daring to look at you. “I can’t (Y/N), I can’t.”

“Xavier.” You exclaimed, managing to catch his attention, he was tearing up. You raised your hand and he quickly grabbed it. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t go through that again (Y/N), I can’t lose you.”

#xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe blurb #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe wednesday #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thrope fanfic #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thrope x you #xavier thrope fluff #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe angst #wednesday adams imagine #wednesday adams fic #wednesday netflix

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dragons-and-yellow-roses · 2 years

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I'm on Day Seven of eight days of work in a fucking row, and I can't ever sleep (I've had maybe ten hours total sleep in the last... Three or four days) so my body is breaking down, but my boss is cool and noticed that I'm literally dying, so he let me work in the back today (I work in fast food) and just wash dishes and shit so that I didn't have to run around and deal with people all day. I feel a lot better already. Good boss.

#good good boss #he and i are pretty friendly. he noticed ive been dead the last few days #today he said he was worried about me #even though Thursday is our busiest day he let me stay off the floor #and just chill and wash dishes #love him to death #tomorrow is my last day before my weekend #im considering calling off. my body is literally broken #i haven't been eating properly. i havent been able to sleep at all #i feel like death #i think if i could just spend one day catching up on sleep and not standing for eight hours i could recover #im sincerely afraid im going to collapse in the middle of the fucking restaurant #or fall asleep while driving #but it's whatever. im off on Saturday and sunday and then again on Wednesday and Thursday #wish me a swift recovery

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videovamptramp · 1 year

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love’s never been much to me (but i’ll come with you if you’re sure that’s what you need)

// wednesday hates the new girl. //

warnings: minor character death (not that important) wednesday being mean, wednesday being a jealous asshole, sensitive reader, crying, harsh words. angst but happy ending <3

when your parents first sent you and your sisters to a boarding school in vermont, you tried your hardest not to be upset about it. you understood your mothers death impacted your father in ways you couldn’t imagined. you were sure it impacted you in ways he could never fathom as well— but you couldn’t help but feel like an outcast on the first day. your older sister elise was fitting in great, as soon as she showed up. her high grades put her in honors classes, and her contagious smile along with that charming, intelligent intellect caused people to migrate to her quickly. your younger sister sabrina was no different, she was beautiful, and had the best style out of anyone you’ve ever met. it wasn’t hard for either for them to make friends.

you however, tugged at the longsleeves of your tight black cropped top, and you kept your eyes open and aware of your surroundings. everyone at the school looked like they were either rich, or smart as hell. “hey i really like your jeans.” a tall, dark haired brunette tells you as she approaches you. you smile, “thanks! i love your cardigan.” you compliment her, and she smiles back at you. “i’m yoko. i think your my new roommate.” she admits, and your eyes widen. “oh shit, seriously? i haven’t even gotten a chance to see my roommate yet. i just put my stuff on the empty bed… but the rooms nice. you’ve kept it clean!“ you begin to ramble, and yoko laughs. “you seem nice. i think we’re gonna get along great.” she proclaims, flashing you a grin.

yoko was your first friend at nevermore academy. she was bright, generous, gave great fashion advice, and was someone you knew you could trust right away. it didn’t take long for you both to become nearly inseparable. that’s when you begin getting close to enid, divina, and even bianca; some of yoko’s other close friends. you and enid have the most in common. you find yourself hanging out with the blonde whenever your roommate is busy with nightshade society. it isn’t until you and enid have plans for the mall one afternoon, that you end up in her room. that’s when you see her. wednesday addams. her long braided black hair, her long lashes, and that all black outfit. you had barely seen her in the halls, but had no classes with her at all.

“i hope you and your friend aren’t planning on staying here. i’m working on my novel.” wednesday states, barely looking up from her typewriter. you look at her with pure interest, “you’re a writer? what are you writing about?” you ask curiously, and she rolls her eyes. “things a peabrain like you wouldn’t understand.” she mutters, and you giggle at her cattiness. “ignore wednesday, she’s allergic to color and all things nice. let’s go y/n, the mall closes at 6 today.” enid says, as she grabs her coat. “okay! sabrina’s tagging along, she said she needs some new shoes.” you explain, and enid smiles, “that’s fine! i love her! i heard she has a crush on joey from physics.” enid admits, and you gag. “ew! he looks like one of those guys that doesn’t wash their ass.”

enid bursts into fits of laughter as you both make your way to the door, “bye wednesday, it was nice officially meeting you.” you wave at the raven haired girl, who doesn’t even spare you a glance. “i wish i could say the same.” she grumbles, and you can’t fight the smile that tugs on your lips as you and enid make your way out. as you two walk down the hall, and towards sabrina’s room, enid pipes up; “hey, don’t take anything wednesday says personally, she’s like that with everybody.” enid explains, and you shake your head. “oh it’s fine! she’s pretty cute.” you admit with a blush, and enid shakes her head in disbelief. “wednesday and cute don’t belong in the same category. maybe violent, or irritable; even sassy fits.” enid jokes and you laugh. “well, she’s still pretty. even if she doesn’t quite like me.” you say as you walk into your younger sisters room.

“who doesn’t like you?” sabrina asks, as she looks away from the mirror where she was fixing her make up in, and over to you and enid. “wednesday.” you say, and sabrina furrows her brows, “who?” she asks. “my roommate. she’s in our grade, super grumpy, wears all black.” enid explains bluntly as she takes a seat on sabrina’s bed. “is she short?” sabrina asks and enid nods eagerly. “yup that’s her!” the blonde exclaims. “oh god, y/n/n, you like her? she’s emo.” sabrina points out, and you pout, “what’s wrong with that?!! she’s totally cute!” you declare, and enid flashes you a pointed look. “and totally hates you.” she reminds you, and you blush sheepishly. “hate and love are two very similar things.” you joke causing enid to groan and throw a pillow your way.

you start seeing wednesday a lot more after that. you always go out of your way to say hi to her, or even talk to her. even though she never seems excited to talk to you, she doesn’t ignore you, and you take that as a good sign. sabrina and you have always been the closest out of your siblings; she was only a year younger than you, yet you two were more like best friends than sisters. that’s exactly why she’s the first person you confess to about having a crush on wednesday.

“you can’t be serious, y/n/n. she hates your guts!” sabrina points out as you two eat lunch under the old oak tree. you had just admitted it to her, and the brunette was staring at you as if you had three heads. “i know! but she’s so hot! and have you heard her voice? ugh… i got it bad, the other day i asked her if she came her often… to school!!” you groan, and she shakes her head, chuckling softly. “damn… i for sure would have thought you would’ve fell for yoko… or even enid. but wednesday? seriously? have you guys even had an actual conversation that didn’t involve you trying to awkwardly flirt with her?” sabrina asks, and you nod.

“i was talking to her about her novel the other day… she’s a smart ass, but she’s definitely smart. like probably smarter than elise.” you admit, and sabrina laughs. “damn, maybe you should ask elise how to tutor you in the art of being a bitch.” she jokes, and you giggle. “maybe. she’s definitely too busy with jake. have you seen the way she gets when he texts her?” you inquire as you eat a cookie off your sisters tray. “yeah, it’s disgusting.” the younger girl says after rolling her eyes. “she still hasn’t talked to me because i stained her flannel. i got her a new one and said i was sorry!” sabrina exclaims, and you laugh. “she’s taking it personal. you’re gonna have to gravel. or just buy her food after her debate club. she’s always hungry after arguing.” you retort, taking a sip of your chocolate milk.

“ugh, she was made for debate. i’m thinking about joining the soccer team.” she reveals, and your eyes widen. “awww that would be awesome! you’d be great!” you say honestly, and she flashes you a smile. “thanks y/n/n.” she says softly as she finishes her sandwich. “hey that reminds me! my friend xavier was saying something about a book club on thursday’s at the library. you should check it out!” she says as she opens her backpack and pulls out a flyer. she hands it to you, and you take it, skimming over it. your eyebrows raise slightly, “huh, i actually think i’m gonna check it out. i need new book ideas. i’m tired of re-reading ‘black house’.” you tell her and she beams. “i thought of you as soon as he showed me the flyer!“

unbeknownst to you and sabrina, wednesday also received the same flyer from xavier. that’s how the two of you both ended up in the library on tuesday. you’re a bit early, and so is she, along with a few other students. you take a seat right beside her, and she glances at you. “are you lost? this isn’t the romance novel book club. they meet on tuesday’s.” she cattily remarks, and you chuckle. “i didn’t even know they had a club for that.” you admit, ignoring her comment. wednesday can’t help but continuously glance at you; you’re wearing baggy jeans, a tight fitted top, along with a pair of gray converse. wednesday is wearing an oversized black knitted sweater, fishnets, and a pair of black doc marten boots. her hair is braided and she looks gorgeous as ever.

“i actually don’t enjoy romance novels. it makes me feel like i’m reading really cheesy fanfics. my little sister gave me the flyer for this club. i need new book recommendations.” you say simply, and wednesday purses her lips, “this is a book club for thriller and horror novels.” she points out, and you nod. “i know. i read the flyer, addams.” you joke, and she looks at you. “what’s your favorite book?” she asks, and you blush sheepishly as you reach into your bag and pull out your old copy of ‘black house’ by stephen king. “i know it’s a bit basic but he really does have wonderful novels. i really enjoyed ‘she’s gone’ by david bell as well. the ending was a plot twist. poor girl.” you ramble slightly, and you blush as you realize she’s staring at you. you tuck a strand of curly hair behind your ear, your eyes meet hers, “what’s your favorite book, wednesday?” you ask her, sounding genuinely curious.

“the original frankenstein book is unmatched. but i suppose the haunting of hill house is good as well.” she answers curtly and you smile at her as she avoids your sweet gaze. “i too carry a copy of frankenstein around because it’s my favorite.” she confesses, making you grin. “you’ll have to lend it to me sometime. if that’s okay of course.” you say so gently she nearly grimaces at how soft your voice is. she reaches into her backpack, and pulls out the old copy, before handing it to you. you reach for it, but she pulls it away abruptly. “black house. i’d like to read it.” she declares, taking you by slight surprise. you nod vigorously, “sure! here!” you say happily, as you shove the copy of your favorite book into her free hand. you gladly take the original ‘frankenstein’ copy, and flash her a smile that makes her nauseous.

“hello everyone. i see we have quite a few eager readers. i’ve picked out a few good reads, and we’ll all have a vote on which one you all wanna read this week.” one of the teachers you hardly know interrupts your moment with wednesday, as she sits down in front of the group. wednesday doesn’t say a word to you during the rest of the session. though, she cannot seem to stop thinking about you as she reads ‘black house’. the little side notes you wrote— the highlighted parts you thought were important. she finds herself enjoying the book, and she can’t believe someone like you actually has good taste. perhaps wednesday misjudged you.

she’s pulled out of her thoughts one evening by your giggling. you’re laughing at something sabrina and her friends were saying. that’s when wednesday sees you take a hit of one of their wax pens, blowing the smoke in your younger sisters face, and giggling wildly. she shakes her head, prying her eyes away from you. nope. you’re still an idiot, she thinks. an idiot who seems to be interested in good books. but that’s your only redeeming quality in wednesday’s opinion.

“hey wednesday, are you enjoying the book?“ you ask as you approach the raven haired girl. wednesday looks over at where you were just sitting with your group of annoying friends and little sister. they seemed to have scattered, and she hadn’t even noticed you making your way up to her. “it’s not terrible. i truly enjoy the way he doesn’t shy away from the gruesome details and thoughts.” she explains, and you nod in agreement as you sit next to her. she doesn’t tell you to get lost even though she should. your girly perfume fills her senses, and she sticks her nose in the air as she looks away from you. “yeah, stephen king is already not afraid to cross any lines, but peter straub is totally fucked in the head. i like it.” you confess in a dorky way that makes wednesday turn her head and stare at you for a second.

“what?“ you ask curiously, wondering what she was staring at. “how did i never notice how much of a dork you are?” she asks, and you roll your eyes, blushing deeply— you pull your knees up to your chest, and you stare at your shoes. “maybe because you’ve never bothered to get to know me.” you joke, before looking at her. the sunlight is hitting your hair, and the way your bangs falls just above your eyelashes— wednesday never noticed how brown your eyes are. they change in the sun and she’s never noticed that about anyone. “well, you are insufferable… but i suppose i don’t mind speaking to you.” wednesday mutters, and you smile widely. there’s that nauseating feeling again. she wants to kiss wipe that smile right off your face.

“oh! i finished frankenstein! it was so fucking good but so fucking sad— i almost don’t want to read ‘black phone’. i know i’m gonna end up crying again.” you admit, and wednesday shakes her head. “you cried? i understand frankenstein is tragic, but crying is a bit dramatic don’t you think?” she asks, and you shrug. “i’m a sensitive person. here’s your book, thanks for lending it to me. if you have any other book recommendations i’d really appreciate them.” you confess shyly, and wednesday takes note of the rosy pink blush coating your cheeks and nose. she doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant on getting to know her and talk to her. shouldn’t she have scared you off by now like she usually does with everyone else?

“thomas harris. silence of the lambs. i have a copy in my room, i’ll lend it to you tomorrow.” she states, and you smile widely. god she wishes you’d stop doing that.

wednesday begins to notice everything you do. the way you laugh, or mess with the holes in your jeans when you’re bored. you heart your ‘i’s’, and chew on your bottom lip when you’re nervous. you’re kind to everyone, and she hasn’t encountered a single person who has spoken badly about you. wednesday finds herself at a loss because she actually wants to talk to you, but she realizes she never wants to talk to anyone. she can’t for the life of her figure out what’s so different about you. or how she went from hating you, to thinking about you nearly every hour of the day. she even catches herself thinking about your giggle in the middle of class.

in december wednesday finds you sitting alone in the garden; a spot she enjoyed coming to be alone. just when she was about to tell you to get lost, she got closer, and heard the sniffling. “y/n?” wednesday’s voice causes you to jump a bit. you weren’t expecting anyone to be here and see you like this. you look up at her; those bambi eyes are red and full of tears, and your cheeks were stained, as if you had been crying for awhile now. wednesday forgets who she is and immediately feels concern wash over her. did somebody make you cry? was she going to have to commit murder? “what happened?“ she asks demandingly, before she takes a seat on the bench beside you. “i-it’s my moms birthday today…” you trail off, trying to hold back tears but failing miserably. “oh. did you call her?“ wednesday questions, and you shake your head, “she— she p-passed away last year.” you explain, and wednesday looks at you intensely.

“i’m sorry.” she sounds sincere, and it takes you by surprise as you stare at her with those vulnerable eyes. “she probably misses you as much as you miss her.” wednesday adds, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. “y-you’re sweet. thanks for sitting with me.” you thank her gently, and she responds with an eye roll, “i’m not sweet, and if you tell anyone i sat with you, i’ll cut all your pretty hair off.” she threatens, and you sniffle as you blush, an inevitable smile creeping onto your face. “you think my hair is pretty?“ you ask, and for the first time since you met wednesday addams, the heat rises to her cheeks causing them to turn a shade of crimson red. “shut up, y/n.” she says warningly, shooting a murderous look your way. instead of lookinh terrified like anyone else would, you stare at her with an expression of pure adoration.

things change after your encounter with wednesday in the garden. you catch her staring more than she normally would, and whenever you approach her, you notice she doesn’t seem as annoyed as she used to. sure, she’s still as grumpy as ever, but your presence didn’t annoy her anymore, and that was strange. she normally gets irritated with everyone, but you somehow have become an exception. wednesday was not only okay with you coming up to her and talking her ear off, she was also looking forward to it. thoughts of you and even your voice would plague her mind. she thought of you before she fell asleep, and as soon as she awoke, there you were on her mind like clockwork.

it isn’t until wednesday sees you talking to aaron from botany, he seems to be staring at you with a glint in his eyes. you’re smiling at him in that way that always makes wednesday’s stomach flutter. but you’re directing it at him instead, and that nauseating feeling she usually gets, turns into a burning sensation in the pit of her stomach. suddenly she has never hated anyone more than aaron jeffery. she glares at him; she’s certain if he notices he’ll probably shit himself. but he doesn’t notice; you do. you turn your head, and your eyes lock with wednesday’s tenebrous orbs. you light up at the sight of her, and now your smile is directed at her. you wave cutely, “hey wednesday!” you greet her from across the courtyard before looking at aaron. “i’ll see you next period!” you exclaim, and he nods with a smile as you rush over to the raven haired girl.

“hi.” you giggle as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. wednesday tenses up, “hi. what were you talking to jeffery’s about?” she asks, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. “we got assigned to be partners earlier this year in botany class, and we just sort of became friends that way.” you shrug, and wednesday has an uncomfortable knot in her stomach. “oh.” is all the shorter girl responds with, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. “is there a problem between you and aaron? like some sort of secret beef i don’t know about?” you ask half jokingly, and she shakes her head. “i don’t like him.” wednesday answers quickly. “he stares at you like he’s never seen a girl in his sorry little life. don’t get me started on the way he dresses.” wednesday rants a bit, and all of your confusion seems to dissipate as a wave of realization washes over you. wednesday addams is jealous of aaron, because she thinks he likes you.

“but aaron is crushing on stacey mathew’s.” you remind her and wednesday scowls. “i don’t care. since when does that stop boys?” she mutters, and you tilt your head to the side, like a confused puppy. “wen… are you jealous of him?” you ask her, and the way you’re smirking makes her shoot a murderous glare your way. she’s not an idiot. she’s completely aware she’s jealous of that tall boy and his kind smile that wednesday doesn’t have. but to admit she’s envious of him, would be to admit how she feels about you. wednesday would rather die before admitting that your voice is something she looks forward to hearing every single day. or even how every time she reads a stephen king book she thinks of you.

“jealousy is a feeling, y/n, and we both know i don’t do feelings.” she declares trying to sound serious. you raise your eyebrows, “then you wouldn’t care if i said he was cute?” you question, clearly just trying to get a rise out of her, and it obviously works because she glares at you. “he looks like a burnt chicken.” she hisses, and you giggle wildly. “no feelings my ass.” you retort sarcastically, and the raven haired girls expression stays firm. “i don’t have feelings, y/n! much less any regarding you and that fried roach.” she snaps in that usually harsh tone she always saves for other people, and never you. yet today her stare is harsh and it’s directed towards you. the trace of softness you usually see in her big brown-black orbs is gone; instead there’s something inscrutable in her gaze and you can’t quite figure out what it is.

you frown, “no feelings regarding me at all? is that your polite way of saying you don’t care about me whatsoever?” you ask uncertainly, and she rolls her eyes. “i don’t care about anybody. everybody at this school is a dimwitted, supernatural moron with no concept of reality or the real world. if that bothers you, maybe you should just go run along and follow aaron jeffery around everywhere like a lost, pathetic puppy. the same way you follow me around.” her tone is so cold, and so unlike whenever she speaks to you. she sounds the same way as when you first met her. you blink a few times, and then, something terrible happens to wednesday. not the good kind of terrible that she loves— no, the terrible that makes her stomach twist and churn… your bottom lip begins to tremble and the heart she’s been so intent on hiding from everyone, falls into the pit of her belly.

tears well up in your eyes, and suddenly she’s replaying every cruel word she just said. they were all because you were right. she was jealous of aaron. “you could’ve just said you didn’t want to hang out with me. or that you don’t like me… you don’t have to be so cruel just because you know how i feel about you.” you manage to say while your voice shakes and wednesday can see the look of hurt in those chocolate brown eyes. you turn around and rush off, leaving wednesday alone with her thoughts and unwanted emotions. that interaction hadn’t gone as she planned, but what could she do about it? chase you and beg for forgiveness? admit that what you said was not only true but spot on? she was jealous, and she did know about the way you feel about her. though you weren’t aware of what she was feeling for you. the more she got to know you, the more she realized she liked. even the things she was supposed to hate, she found made those dead butterflies in her stomach resurrect and flutter around with pure life.

she found herself having to pretend to dislike your presence, but it seemed as though you could see right through wednesday and her grumpiness. you even dealt with it just to hang out with her. though, there were undoubtable moments where you just knew wednesday returned all those feelings she claimed she didn’t have. you would ramble on and on about a book or show, and when you’d look up her eyes would be on you, taking in every word. even when she wasn’t looking at you, she was listening. you knew because she remembered every detail, down to the silliest thing. though it was never silly to you, it always made your heart skip a beat. almost everything wednesday did for you, made your heart rate pick up. you noticed everything when it came down to her; the way her gaze would soften up whenever looking at you, or how she let you hug her and hold her hand.

yet, wednesday’s words sounded so serious and cold. you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, wednesday addams has hated you this whole time. maybe everything was in your head, and she really didn’t like you or anyone else at this school for that matter. maybe wednesday really was as heartless as she claims to be… but you don’t believe that. you can’t. there’s too many things she does that prove her wrong, yet if you ever called her out on them, she would most likely deny everything. if she didn’t want to like you, wasn’t that just as bad as not liking you? she knew she liked you, and she still didn’t want you. that hurt you more than anything else regarding your love life has.

when enid sees you crying she rushes in your direction, excusing herself from ajax and their mutual friends as she follows you towards your dorm. “y/n, what happened!?” she asks in pure concern as she follows you into yours and yoko’s shared bedroom. “did— did wednesday make you cry?” she asks cautiously, and you sniffle, nodding. enid feels a wave of nerves hit her. if wednesday was in a bad enough to mood to snap at you, maybe that meant everyone should stay clear from her today. there’s no telling what she’d do to people she actually hated. “what happened? did she say something to you?” the blonde asks patiently, and you look down at your converse. “dimwitted, supernatural moron… and a pathetic puppy. that’s what she thinks of me.” you whisper, and enid frowns.

“you’re none of those things, y/n. you’re a great friend and i know wednesday didn’t mean what she said. she’s just a grump.” enid points out and you shake your head. “i think she did, enid. i can’t keep trying so hard for her to like me. i should’ve taken the hint a long time ago and just left her alone.” you mutter, looking up and meeting enid’s eyes. her eyes are empathetic and sincere, “no, y/n, wednesday loves you! she just doesn’t want to admit it! she’s changed since she started hanging around you… she’s been nicer in her own little wednesday way. there’s less threats, and hate towards color or people. it’s because of you.” she insists, and you look at your fingers that you’re playing with nervously.

“i’ve seen the change, but until she apologizes or tells me how she feels herself, i think it’s best to keep my distance from wednesday…” you trail off, and enid can see the words hurt you to say. she frowns, but nods, “i understand and respect your decision, even it means i will have to deal with a very grumpy wednesday.” she murmurs and you flash her a sad smile. “sorry, enid…” you trail off, you thoughts immediate going to the raven haired girl you’re so helplessly in love with.

wednesday notices the change right away. it’s been a week since she said those mean things to you, and she couldn’t stop thinking about you. wednesday went from being the only person you’d seek out to talk to, to being the only person you’re avoiding. she feels like she’s been hit with the plague, because you won’t even look at her anymore. it drives her crazy when sees you and you don’t light up the way you used to, or even smile in her direction. she never thought silence (one of her favorite things), would drive her this mad when it was coming from you. she hated to admit she missed your voice, and all the things she thought she hated about you… like the way you talk too much, and practically shower in that girly perfume that tickles wednesday’s senses in the worst way. when she smells it in the halls her belly burns.

“she’s been miserable without you.” enid cuts into wednesday’s thoughts one lunch period, as she notices her roommate staring at you from the other side of cafeteria. you were sitting with elise and her friends today, looking absolutely miserable. it was no secret your older sister often was one of your biggest bullies, though it came from a place of love, the things she said still affected you. much like wednesday, she said things bluntly and honestly, not caring if she hurt anyones feelings. “she’s the one that decided to stop sitting here.” wednesday says back, her tone harsh and abrasive. enid rolls her eyes, “because you called her a dimwitted, supernatural moron, wednesday!” enid points out, causing everyone at the table to look at the two.

wednesday shoots daggers at the blonde, “i said it in regards towards everyone at this school!” wednesday hisses, and enid shakes her head in dismay. “it’s the same thing. not to mention you called her a ‘pathetic puppy’, don’t you have any idea how much your words hurt? especially to someone who has feelings for you.” she states sternly, and the raven haired girls careless expression falters. a trickle of silence passes, and wednesday speaks. “i didn’t mean it.” the shorter girl mutters, and enid raises a brow as she reaches for her fruit cup. “then why did you say it?“ the werewolf questions curiously, causing the short girl sitting beside her to sigh in frustration.

“because she was gushing over aaron jeffery!” wednesday snaps and enid raises both of her eyebrows in amusement. “and why did that bother you? i thought you and y/n were just friends; didn’t you say you hated the idea of love and romance because of your parents?” enid inquires, and wednesday grips the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles change in color. “this isn’t romance or love, i merely believe that y/n can do better than someone like that gross ogre.” she declares simply, and enid smirks, clearly not believing wednesday. “she can do better? as in someone like you?” enid asks with a shit-eating grin on her face, and wednesday glowers at her roommate.

“you may be my roommate, but i wouldn’t think twice about ripping your tongue out with my bare hands.” wednesday threatens the blonde, causing enid to giggle. “oh my god! you really do have feelings for y/n!” enid whisper/yells excitedly. “you have to tell her!” she exclaims, and wednesday keeps a straight face as she looks back down at her open book, deciding to simply ignore enid’s presence. “i mean, sure, you may have royally messed up by saying those things to the only person who’s genuinely not afraid of you, but she’s a sweetie. she’ll understand if you just tell her you were jealous.” enid rambles, and wednesday snaps her book shut, glaring at the blonde.

“call her a ‘sweetie’ again and i really will rip your tongue out.” she hisses as she stands up and walks out of cafeteria. enid gulps, and she looks over at you who’s watching wednesday walk away. wednesday’s head is plagued by thoughts of you. she goes to her room and tries to work on her novel, but she can’t concentrate long enough to get anything done. her homework got done later than usual because of how much she’s thinking about you. the raven haired girl sighs in frustration as she looks over at thing who’s sitting on the corner of her desk.

“i messed up.” she says aloud, making thing perk up at the sound of her voice. he makes his way towards her, and she looks at him with eyes of vulnerability. she’d never let anyone see her like this, but thinking about you and your face of hurt makes her feel enormously guilty. “what did you do?” thing taps, and wednesday purses her lips. “i… god this is embarrassing… i was jealous of aaron jeffery.” she says his name with disdain, curling her upper lip in disgust. “i know, i know. why should i, a superb young woman, who is by far the most amazing person at this awful place, be jealous of a burnt chicken like him? well, because y/n thinks he’s cute. can you believe that? she thinks he’s cute.” thing is silent while wednesday rants, finally allowing all of her feelings to come seeping out in her rushed words. “what was i supposed to tell her? that i think she has the most soul crushing smile on the planet and i would die to see it over and over again? that when she smiled at him it made me want to add him to the list of murders? she makes me sick every time she looks at me, like there’s a bunch of moths in my stomach that are about to fly out of my mouth. i can’t tell her any of that.” wednesday hisses, and thing taps, “you are in love.”

wednesday viscously glares at thing, “love is for morons!” she snaps, “you are a moron.” thing taps back, and wednesday goes silent. “yes. i suppose i am. i mean, i did let her get a way.” she whispers, and thing taps again. “talk to her. say sorry.” he insists, and wednesday purses her lips. “i’m not saying i’m going to, but hypothetically if i were to apologize, how would i do that?” she inquires curiously.

you rub your temples tiredly after you finish revising your essay for botany class. you had been doing homework all evening and were finally done. though, your homework was slightly prolonged due to the way your thoughts would trail off towards a certainly pig tailed addams. you would think about the way her eyes would pour into you, or the way her lips would twitch into the faintest of smiles as she would listen to you go on and on. yet, you can’t help but think about what she said. truthfully, you wouldn’t be so angry if she’d just apologize. sure, the words hurt, but you’d forgive her if she just said she’s sorry.

but she hasn’t even tried to speak to you, and that’s what hurts the worst.

*knock, knock*

the light knocks on your door cause your head to snap in its direction. an envelope flies under your door, and you furrow your eyebrows as you stand up and make your way towards it. you pick it up, your name is written on it and you recognize that handwriting anywhere. wednesday. you open the door, but there’s no one there; you can see thing thumping down the hall towards wednesday’s room. you can’t fight the smile that tugs at your lips as you open the envelope, and pull out the letter inside.

“y/n,

please excuse how late this is. i understand if you don’t read this, but if you do, would you do me the favor of coming to my room whenever you can? i wish to say a few things to you in regards of our last conversation. if you don’t come, that’s alright too. i’m deeply sorry for what i said. you were right, and i was jealous. you aren’t a moron, or pathetic. you aren’t like anyone at this school. — w.a”

your heart flutters in your chest as you read the letter. wednesday wants to apologize? was this some kind of trap to hurt your feelings again? you chuckle at the absurdity of this, but you can’t help but feel your cheeks heating up at the sincerity of the letter. you take a step out of your room, and close the door behind you. you hold the letter in your hand the entire way to wednesday’s room. when you knock the door flies open, and there’s wednesday standing in front of you with an unrecognizable look on her face. “you came.” she states observantly, had she really thought you wouldn’t? you were crazy about her after all. “you asked me to.” you respond softly, and there are those butterflies in her belly again

“i didn’t mean what i said. i’m sorry i hurt you.” she says, and her usual monotone is laced with vulnerability. your eyes often as you pull her in for a tight hug, “oh wednesday.” you gush as you squeeze her tightly, and she feels a wave of heat wash over her. she immediately feels okay as soon as you embrace her. “do you… forgive me?” the raven haired girl asks carefully, and you pull away, nodding eagerly. “of course! i… i guess a part of me knew you didn’t mean it. i know you’re not good with feelings, and that’s why i try my hardest to understand your reactions to everything i do. but i really hope from now on, you try your hardest to understand my feelings as well.” you explain timidly and she reaches for one of your hands cautiously. you gladly accept and interlock your fingers with hers.

“i promise i’ll do better. i’m barely starting to understand my own feelings for you, and they’re a bit overwhelming.” wednesday reveals, causing you to blush. “well, if you ever need help sorting them out, you know i’m here right?” you ask, and she looks at her for a moment. thing taps on the desk, “invite her in, moron!” and wednesday blinks as the back of her neck gets coated with a crimson blush. “would you like to come in right now and help me sort through them?” the goth asks smoothly, and now it’s your turn to blush. “i would like that.” you respond and she lights up as she steps aside, allowing you entrance into her shared bedroom. a wave of relief hits her, as she realizes you’re back and she doesn’t want to ever lose you again. that’s when wednesday realizes she may be in love with you, and that terrifies her.

though, losing you terrifies her even more… so if making you hers and keeping you by her side forever is what you need, then she’ll be content with doing so.

///////////////////////////////

a/n: this was my first fic on here!! i’ve never seen the netflix series so excuse me if i get anything wrong, i’m just crushing sooo hard on jenna ortega rn 😂

#wednsday addams #wednesday addams x fem reader angst #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #lgbtq #this is my first post #be kind #lesbian fanfic

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anonymousewrites · 3 months

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A Good Day for Death Valentine's Day Special 2024

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Ordinarily, Wednesday wasn’t a fan of Valentine’s Day. It was too sappy for her, and romance wasn’t her thing. That being said, everyone else being out on dates or with friends meant that Nevermore was quiet, and if there was one thing Wednesday liked, it was solitude.

She could come out of her dorm with her typewriter to work on her novel without being bothered. She finished her work for the day, packed away her typewriter, and walked towards the library to pick out a book to read.

Wednesday paused as she passed a hallway full of empty classrooms. Sounds echoed out from within, music and singing with a mysterious tune. Wednesday wasn’t someone to not investigate, so she walked down the corridor and arrived at a classroom. She looked in and saw the projector turned on and playing an animated movie. The character on screen sang dramatically, the sound reverberating through the silent school.

“Our son will be married, According to plan.”

Wednesday glanced between the unique animation and looked at the desks at the front of the room. She was a bit surprised to see (Y/N) alone. They were leaning on their hands while watching the movie.

“(Y/N)?” said Wednesday.

(Y/N) started and turned. They smiled when they noticed who it was. “Oh, hi, Wednesday!” They reached over and paused the movie. “How are you?”

“I thought everyone had gone out for the holiday,” said Wednesday.

(Y/N) shrugged. “All of my friends had dates.”

“I do not,” said Wednesday.

“We’re friends?” said (Y/N) teasingly.

“By the typical definition, I suppose,” said Wednesday, but she knew that they were. And, of course, she had a crush on (Y/N), but that was neither here nor there (another lie).

(Y/N) grinned. “Whatever you say!” They tilted their head. “What are you up to today while everyone else is out?”

“I worked on my novel,” said Wednesday, walking farther down in the room to the row of desks (Y/N) sat out.

“That’s cool. I just slept in, wrote a few melancholy poems about love—very ‘tragic poet’ of me, I know—and came in here to watch a movie,” said (Y/N). “Do you want to join me? If you’re not going to do anything.”

“I had planned to read,” said Wednesday.

“Oh, well, then, have fun,” said (Y/N), a little (lot) disappointed that Wednesday didn’t want to hang out. They knew their crush wasn’t exactly a people-person in any sense of the word, but they had hoped maybe she’d want to spend time with them since they were both alone and friends.

“…How long is this movie?” said Wednesday.

(Y/N) brightened. “A little over an hour.”

Wednesday pretended to consider, but she already knew she was going to stay. (Y/N)’s companionship was nice, and a nice moment alone with her crush would be…pleasant since usually Wednesday was also around other people.

“I will still have time to read,” decided Wednesday. “I’ll stay.” She sat down at the desk next to (Y/N). “What are we watching?”

“Corpse Bride,” said (Y/N). “It’s a fun Tim Burton musical. It’s on the spooky side. My mom and I watched it a lot growing up.”

“Is it a love story?” asked Wednesday.

“Yeah, but it’s got ghosts and murder and mystery, so you’ll enjoy it, too,” said (Y/N).

“You chose something you thought I would enjoy?” said Wednesday, not missing anything.

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and they chuckled nervously. “Well, you know, I knew you’d be in Nevermore, so I thought I’d choose something you’d enjoy in case you came in.”

Wednesday felt the now-familiar—but still disturbing—warmth enter her chest at (Y/N)’s consideration. “That’s…unusual.”

“To think of my friend?” (Y/N) laughed. “You need to get more friends, Wednesday.”

“I don’t have an affinity for people,” said Wednesday.

“Neither do I,” said (Y/N), shrugging. “I guess we make sense together, then. Two people not great with others but okay with each other.”

Wednesday allowed herself a smile. “I suppose so.” She steeled her features and faced the screen. “Now, how much have I missed?”

“Oh, not much! The movie just started. Basically, what you need to know is…” (Y/N) began to ramble.

Wednesday had to fight not to stare at them as they spoke so passionately and happily. It was pleasant to watch them be so happy and bright. Wednesday knew they were right: she and (Y/N) worked well together. They understood each other well, and Wednesday liked that (Y/N) was her friend. And it was nice to know they felt the same way.

It was amusing that neither knew they felt the same in another way.

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octuscle · 6 months

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Hello support, I hope this is the right place to ask. I‘m not the best with this online thing because of my old age but I think I deserve another chance. I recently got this hot, young, muscular, blonde neighbor who is also a cop. I thought he would be really nice but he turned out to be an asshole towards me. Is there a chance to become physically like him to teach him a lesson and get my second chance at life? Maybe even his life?

Yes, from what I can see, your neighbor is an asshole. But despite everything, an asshole, which serves our country. And that's really good as a jerk-off idol. I have respect for that. I ask for your understanding. But that doesn't mean I can't help you, old man!

Wednesday evening. You are sitting in the rocking chair on the porch when your neighbor comes home. You wave to him. He ignores you. Asshole. Meals on Wheels comes and brings you your dinner. With difficulty you get up and go to the dining table. Carrot porridge. Not exactly delicious. But you can eat it well without teeth.

Thursday morning: If you get up and nothing hurts, you are dead… Was one of your mottos. Are you dead? Or did you just sleep well? In any case, you feel fit. You go to the bathroom without problems, brush your teeth and look through your bathroom window into the brightly lit bathroom of your neighbor. He has just come out of the shower. Fuck, he is really a jerk-off idol made flesh. And for the first time in a very long time you jerk off. And actually shoot a respectable load into the sink.

Shouldn't your nurse have come at 08:00? Ehhhhh? Nurse? What for? You're in your early 70s. You've been going to the gym every day for years. Swimming and gym. You are able to take care of yourself and your household. Today you should take care of the hedges. And the roof of the shed should be repaired.

When your neighbor comes home at 6:00 p.m., you have just fired up the BBQ. You take two bottles of beer from the tub filled with ice and ask him if he would like a steak and a cold beer. "Sure thing, old man," he says. "Just let me get out of this uniform." Too bad, you think. For your sake, he should have kept it on. It's a beautiful evening. You talk about hunting, football and politics. Sure, you could be his father. But everyone needs a fatherly friend. Whereas you would like to be his DILF.

Friday morning. Your buddy from next door is already in the bathroom, you start your morning run. You're just coming back when he gets into his car. You just have time to exchange a fistbump and arrange to meet at the gym for 4:00 pm after work.

Okay, at 39 years old, you're more than ten years older than your workout partner. But you both grew up in the gym. You complement each other perfectly. But fuck, you can think of nothing else but to fuck the cop properly. In the shower it turns out that he also thinks of nothing else. He drops the soap very slowly and picks it up awkwardly. You will not miss the chance.

Saturday morning. Your friend is still asleep, breathing deeply and evenly. He smells of your sweat and cum. If you didn't wake him up with this, you would be licking him clean right now. On the cock first. Instead, you quietly get up to get ready in the bathroom and prepare breakfast. Your boyfriend has had a busy week. You still have vacation. College doesn't start for another four weeks, by which time you still have to clean out your parents' house and sell it. You are so glad that you have your boyfriend, he is a great help to you after the death of your parents….

You have just brushed your teeth when the door to the bathroom opens. Thank God, his morning wood is still stable. "Can I help you, officer?" you ask. "On your knees, thug." Orders are orders.

Found the pic of your significantly younger self @corpsacademy

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #age reduction

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theemporium · 1 year

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[REQUEST OPEN]

[9.6k] local murders, amateur sleuthing and unconventional phone calls catch the attention of wednesday!reader. little does she realise the mastermind behind it all is none other than hawkins’ golden boy. (smut)

“LOCAL TEEN FOUND MURDERED IN HIS CAR EARLIER THIS MORNING AFTER WHAT LOOKS LIKE TO BE BRUTAL STRUGGLE. THIS IS THE THIRD MURDER AFTER THE DEATH OF—”

The volume dial on the radio was instantly turned down, the drawling voice of the presenter quickly dying down to a whisper after blaring through the store like it had been doing for the last hour.

But no matter what channel or radio show they turned to, each and every one was covering the latest discovery in the Hawkins’ murders.

Murders that started during the annual 4th of July celebrations where a local jock had been found stabbed and murdered just after the firework display, his body slumped into one of the ferris wheel carriages before anyone could notice the killer.

The screams of the young carnival worker who found the body was one no one in Hawkins would forget for a while.

The second murder followed less that two weeks later, when a cheerleader was found brutally stabbed and stashed in the back of her car at Lover’s Lake.

And now, the whole of Hawkins had been sent into a frenzy as the police department worked aimlessly to find the culprit behind the recent murders. Only to come up short when they couldn’t find a single clue against the murderer. Not a single fucking idea.

The whole town was left waiting for the next attack, set on edge and second guessing everyone around them as they waited for the killer to attack again.

The killer was playing with their prey, setting everyone on edge and making them go crazy as they waited for a single clue that this wasn’t over. The killer gave them hope that the worst was over, that they moved on or skipped town. The killer made them think they could be safe again.

And then they struck—just yesterday, after a whole month of silence.

“God, don’t they have anything better to talk about,” Eddie grumbled under his breath, nose scrunching up as he focused on the pile of tapes in front of him that he had been sorting out for the last twenty minutes.

You shifted your eyes from the book you were reading, raising a single brow. “And here I thought you’d love something like this.”

“Not all of us are as morbid as you,” Eddie retorted with a lazy grin sent your way. “It’s all anyone’s been talking about the last two months. There’s only so much small talk I can handle over the counter about my ‘crazy theories on Hawkins’ biggest criminal since Johnny the bike thief’.”

You let out a hum of acknowledgment.

“I swear some of them think it’s me,” Eddie muttered with a light scoff. He paused for a moment before his eyes narrowed on you. “They probably think it’s both of us. Probably doesn’t help that you’re always lingering here.”

“You invite me, Edward,” you stated simply as you flicked to the next page of your book.

“And you come every time,” Eddie retorted with a grin on his face, like he was proud of the fact he somehow managed to have you coming back.

“I didn’t have anything on today,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Geez, way to make a man feel special.”

Your friendship—if you could even call it that—with the local metalhead wasn’t something you ever planned or considered. As it turns out, wandering around the woods beside the trailer park will leave you with a curly-haired, restless twenty-something who attaches himself to you and continues to call you his friend regardless of whatever you tell him.

Eddie Munson just seemed to work like that.

Not that you minded him all that much, most of the time at least. You could tolerate him and sometimes coming to the music store he worked at provided amusement in the form of watching the general public. If you had to deal with Eddie calling you a friend during that time, then so be it.

“Got any wild theories in that morbid head of yours?” Eddie asked casually like you weren’t discussing murders in the middle of a very public store, the boy more concerned about the price tags he was currently trying to stick on the tapes laid across the counter with a contraption he wasn’t totally sure how to use.

“What makes you think I have been theorising about it at all?” you asked, eyes focused on the words on the page.

“I don’t know,” Eddie said with a shrug. “Because you’re you? And you like all those weird horror books and movies and shit.”

“They are comforting,” you stated simply.

“That…is terrifying, actually,” Eddie mumbled under his breath, shooting you a wary look though it really shouldn’t have surprised him. He still had flashbacks to the biology classes he shared with you in school where everyone had taken three steps back from the lab counters whilst you had cut open the poor frog they had been assigned to dissect with familiar ease. The scalpel in your hand almost looked as belonging as a pen.

“You let yourself get too easily scared, Edward,” you told him, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought you were scolding him.

The boy paused, raising his brows. “You’re telling me you’re not the least bit scared that we have a homicidal maniac on the loose right now?”

“Everybody dies anyways,” you replied.

Eddie blinked. “Yeah because nothing says circle of life like being brutally stabbed twenty times in the gut.”

“Twenty-four,” you corrected.

Eddie furrowed his brows. “What?”

“Each victim had been stabbed at least twenty-four times,” you said as you lifted your gaze to meet his own. “If you’re going to be scared, at least be scared by the right facts.”

“Maybe you are the murderer,” Eddie grumbled with a huff, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the tapes.

“Would you like me to fast-track you to the top of my list?” you deadpanned, though there was something quite like amusement glimmering in your eyes.

“Aw, you’d change up your master plan for lil’ ol’ me? I knew you liked me, sweetheart,” Eddie said with a grin. “Make sure they write that on my tombstone, yeah? ‘Eddie the Freak: changer of small, emo serial killers’.”

You let out a huff but Eddie swore it was a laugh.

“Why the hell are you guys hanging out without me?!”

Both heads turned towards the entrance of the store where a very angry, curly-haired nuisance was making his way towards the cashier counter, the redhead behind him simply shrugging and giving the two adults a ‘what can you do?’ look.

“I’m working, Henderson,” Eddie retorted, gesturing to the store around him. “I hardly consider that hanging out.”

“She’s here!” Dustin said, exasperated as he pointed a finger at you before quickly dropping it when he noted the look you gave him.

“She was invited,” you said to him as you said to Eddie earlier.

“So it is a hangout!” Dustin exclaimed. “Did you invite Max too?”

Eddie remained silent.

“Oh my god.”

“I give her a ride back home after my shift,” Eddie said with a heavy sigh, knowing the boy wouldn’t shut up about this for a while. “I hardly count that as hanging out. Plus, her mum doesn’t want her skating back alone with all the…murdering going around.”

“Who cares about murders when your own friends stab you in the back,” Dustin muttered with narrowing eyes glancing between the three of you.

“Listen, you’re here now, can’t you just…get over it?” Max grumbled, making her way towards the counter where she pushed a handful of tapes to the side before jumping up to take a seat. She pointedly ignored the glare Eddie was sending her way. “I’d rather hear you talk about conspiracy theories for another hour.”

“Conspiracy theories?” Eddie questioned.

“Dustin here thinks he knows who the killer is,” Max snorted.

Eddie narrowed his eyes, glancing between you and Max. “Neither of you sound as worried about a killer on the loose as you should be.”

You didn’t bother with a reply but Max shrugged as she replied.

“She’s rubbing off on me.”

“Are you kidding me? This is freaking awesome!” Dustin exclaimed, catching all three of you off guard as the boy began to pace around the store, arms moving around animatedly as he spoke. “We are living in a real life horror movie! The mysterious killer, local victims, town paranoia—”

“Let me guess,” you interrupted with a raised brow. “Are you deeming yourself the protagonist?”

“Me? Pfft, no, I’m the movie expert,” Dustin said with an oddly proud look on his face. “The protagonist is the final girl.”

Max frowned. “Final girl?”

“Yeah,” Dustin stared at the group like it was obvious. “The girl that is always left at the end of the horror movie. The one who survived after facing off with the killer when their identity is revealed and is the one to tell the story.”

Eddie snorted. “You, Henderson, have quite the imagination.”

“He’s not wrong,” you stated as three pairs of eyes focused on you, all equally shocked. “It’s a common trope in the horror genre.”

“HA!” Dustin grinned.

“Just because you know a bunch about horror movies doesn’t mean you know who the killer is,” Max pointed out, legs swinging back and forth. “It could be anyone. Hell, it could be someone from out of town.”

Dustin shook his head. “Unlikely, each victim seems like a personal choice. And they are linked, it can’t be random at all.”

“Oh, now he’s a professional,” Max muttered, rolling her eyes.

“So who’s your guess, detective?” Eddie asked, entertaining the boy’s delusions.

Dustin brightened. “Well—“

“HENDERSON! THERE YOU ARE!”

The bell above the door rang through the store, accompanied by the sound of quick footsteps as Steve made his way to the group, still clad in the Family Video vest—most likely having just come from his own shift at the shop down the road.

“Way to ruin my dramatic moment, Steve,” the younger boy muttered but didn’t look shocked at his arrival.

“Yeah, yeah, you can cry about it in the car,” Steve murmured with a sigh as he slapped the boy on the back. “Get your stuff, your mum wanted you home by six.”

“It’s only five thirty!”

“Yeah, and I have other shit to do other than drive you about.”

Dustin turned to you. “Tell him to give me five more minutes.”

You raised your brows. “And why would he listen to me?”

“Because he’s obsessed—“ But Steve’s hand was slapped over his mouth before he could finish his sentence.

“Car. Now.” Steve stated simply, avoiding your gaze as a light blush appeared on his cheeks.

Dustin let out a heavy sigh before grabbing his backpack that he had dumped on the floor at some point during his rant before he waved the group goodbye. “This isn’t over. I am gonna prove I know what I’m talking about.”

“Whatever you say,” Max called out, sarcasm dripping from her words.

“I’ll, uh, catch you later, yeah?” Steve said as he followed Dustin to the door, though his eyes lingered on you. Maybe waiting for an answer, maybe hoping you’d say yes.

“See ya later, Harrington!” Eddie waved him off with a shit-eating grin, waiting until both boys were gone before he turned to you. “When are you gonna put him out of his misery?”

You frowned. “What misery?”

“Steve has the biggest crush on you,” Max stated matter-of-factly. “Everybody knows.”

“I didn’t know,” you retorted.

“Yeah, because you’re just as stupid,” Max snapped back and your lips twitched a little at her words.

“You sound just as delusional as Dustin,” you muttered before your eyes focused back on the book on your lap, the one you had been trying to read since you arrived at the store but had only managed two chapters of.

“Say what you wanna say, but when he comes standing outside your house with a boombox and starts confessing his love to you, we will be taking full bragging rights,” Eddie said, a grin matching the redhead’s on his face as you simply rolled your eyes.

“Like I said, delusional.”

…

You were alone in your house on a Tuesday night when you received the first phone call.

Unassuming and unaware, you had spent most of the day out of your house doing simple errands and runs that you had been putting off. You got back home around five and had been loitering around, enjoying the peace that came with an empty home with both parents out of town for the week.

Dinner had been uneventful and the shower you had taken afterwards had been uninterrupted. The phone didn’t ring until around half an hour later, when your hair was still soaking the pyjama shirt you had slipped on and your mirror was still steamy from the hot water.

“Hello?”

“What’s your favourite scary movie?”

You paused for a moment, listening to the voice on the other side of the phone. It didn’t take long for you to piece things together, the articles and radio warnings that had been blasted around town for the last few weeks giving you a clear idea who was on the other side of the phone.

After all, the mysterious number on the phone bill was the one common factor linking the murders together.

“Do you give all your victims the same icebreaker or am I just special?” you asked the killer on the other side of the phone, hand firmly gripping the handset like you were scared to miss his response.

“Who said you were my victim?”

You paused for a moment. “Is that statement meant to bring me a false sense of security?”

“Do you want me to make you feel safe, sweetheart?”

“Not sure that’s a part of your job description,” you deadpanned, hearing the killer on the other side of the phone let out a huff of amusement. “I thought the point of these phone calls was to heighten your prey’s paranoia.”

“Telling me how to do my job now, are you?”

“Just curious how you play the game,” you admitted, the prickling sensation in the back of your neck a telltale sign that you felt like you were being watched. But you found that you didn’t mind it all that much—for now, at least. “Tell me when I should start begging for my life.”

“I would never wanna hear you beg for your life, sweetheart. I would never hurt you.”

“Are you sure you’re the killer?” you asked bluntly, wondering if this was just some prank call of someone impersonating the Hawkins’ killer in hopes of getting a few laughs from their friends. “You don’t sound very scary to me.”

“Maybe I don’t want to scare you.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Maybe I just wanna talk, sweetheart.”

“How wholesome,” you muttered, swinging your legs over the end of your bed and letting your feet touch the cold, wood floor as you stood up from your bed and started making your way downstairs.

“What are you doing?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just wanna know why you left your room.”

You froze for a moment, half way down the stairs and your eyes instantly fell on your front door where you could see the lock was still secure in place. “How do you know I just left my room?”

“I like to see the people I talk to.”

“Not social enough for face to face conversations?”

“It’s more fun when they can’t see you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The irony wasn’t lost on you about how stupid you were currently being. You had watched a plethora of horror movies from a young age, a lot of them had been watched multiple times and you knew the trope of the dumb girl very well. The one who would keep talking on the phone, who would never go for the weapon that could save her life, that would fall when being chased.

You knew the longer you stayed on the phone to the killer, the higher the chance that you could very well become that same character in Dustin’s little horror movie fantasy. That your body would be the next one found, another victim that would lead up to whatever finale this killer had.

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to hang up the phone.

The killer was intriguing, not at all what you expected them to be like and—though it would kill you to admit it—Eddie was right, you did have a morbid curiosity for these kinds of things.

You entertained the conversation, picking apart the things they said and the phrases they used. They were careful, they never gave anything away that could even hint to you who they were but there was a knack at the back of your head that told you you knew this person—which was incredibly stupid knowing you couldn’t see anybody out your windows and their voice was disguised.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?”

“Maybe I’m just trying to help you break that social barrier you’ve built. I heard eye contact improves conversation flow.”

“Never thought you’d be the kinda girl to help someone out.”

Your lips twitched a little. “And I never thought you’d want to sit about for an hour talking about nonsense from a random bush across the street.”

“Guess we surprised each other, huh, doll?”

You raised your brows. “Bored of sweetheart already?”

“Just testing the waters.”

You weren’t sure at what point the line went dead. You couldn’t really remember if you were the one to hang up, or if maybe it was them. The memories of the night before were fuzzier than you would have liked them to be, but certain things were vivid and clear in your head.

One of them was the fact that you knew each door and window had been locked. You knew that there wasn’t a single point of entrance in the house from outside. And yet, laying on your bedroom desk, you found a series of polaroids.

One of you in your room, laying on your bed with a book in hand. One of you in the kitchen, hovering by the stove as you cooked. One of you in the bathroom, the silhouette of your body just noticeable in the steamy mirror.

And a note scrawled on the back of the last one:

Thank you for the conversation, sweetheart. Until next time.

The mastermind behind the Hawkins’ murders wasn’t what you expected them to be like. But they had caught your attention now, and you couldn’t deny that you wanted to know more.

…

“Five!”

“Yes, Henderson, we heard you the first time.”

“Five murders!”

“And we heard the radio announce it too.”

“He has killed five people!”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

This conversation had been going on for the better part of the last hour. Just that morning, the police department announced another victim in the Hawkins’ murders—one of the wannabe journalists in the school newspaper that often bothered Nancy with his deadbeat stories and flakey behaviour.

He was found just by Lovers Lake, his camera smashed to pieces beside him and his torso torn open by multiple stab wounds, more than any other victim. And of course, Dustin hadn’t shut up about it since it had been announced.

“It’s a feeling, ya know?” Dustin said with a pondering look on his face. “Like a gut feeling.”

Max raised her brows. “Sure that’s not just acid reflux?”

“Shut up,” Dustin huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s escalating, he’s killed two people in the space of ten days. He’s getting more frequent.”

“Ambitious,” you commented.

Dustin gaped. “No, not ambitious! Dangerous!”

“He’s gone off his victim profile though,” Eddie noted as he took a large bite out of the pretzel he was eating. “I thought he was just going for jocks and shit. But a journalist and a band geek? Rogue choices.”

“Or they are connected in a way we don’t realise,” Dustin countered.

“Or this is all bullshit and he’s nothing more than a murderous maniac who’s just killing anyone he can get his hands on,” Max stated bluntly, shooting her curly-haired friend a look. “Stop reading into it so much. He’s probably just going for younger victims because teenagers are dumb and would probably follow a strange man into the woods if he offered them beer.”

“Is that what you’d do, Red?” Eddie joked as he nudged her shoulder.

“Yeah, and Henderson would be my first victim,” Max continued, biting back the smile that was growing on her face.

“Not funny, guys, not funny,” Dustin grumbled with a crease between his eyebrows.

“It’s a little funny,” Eddie grinned, playfully patting the boy on the back.

“Am I the only one taking this seriously?” Dustin exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “There’s a murderer on the loose!”

“Really? You didn’t mention,” Max deadpanned.

“Look, kid, let the professionals solve the case, okay?” Eddie’s voice turned a little more serious as he placed a hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “I don’t want you getting mixed up in this and end up getting hurt.”

Dustin’s shoulders sagged. “I just feel like—“

“I know, I get it, you wanna work it out,” Eddie said, his features softening. “But it’s not up to you to solve.”

“But if you help—“

“I’ll help you,” you spoke up and the room quickly fell silent.

“Uh,” Eddie cleared his throat. “Are you doing alright?”

“Yes. Why?”

Eddie frowned. “Because you just willingly offered help to someone? To Dustin of all people?”

“If it’s any consolation, it’s for personal gain,” you stated as the three of them continued to stare at her.

Dustin’s eyes narrowed. “What are you gaining?”

“Answers.”

“That’s…that’s insanely cryptic,” Eddie murmured, his frown deepening as he flashed you a concerned glance.

Not that you owed any of them answers, but you hadn’t told them about the phone calls from the killer. You didn’t tell them about the phone calls or the photographs or the promises the killer made to not harm you. And you certainly didn’t tell them the phone calls had become an almost daily occurrence.

You didn’t tell them because you knew they would worry. Dustin would hound you with questions, Max would question your sanity and Eddie would be throwing you into the back of his van before beeling towards the sheriff’s department. All valid reactions in the grand scheme of things but would be nothing but a nuisance to you.

You were playing a game with this psycho killer and you couldn’t deny that you wanted to know how it ended.

“Well…beggars can’t be choosers!” Dustin smiled at you and you had the odd feeling that this boy saw this as a branch of friendship.

As it turns out, the boy was more obsessed with the case though you had to give him credit for his passion. He had all but set up a murder board for the killings, complete with pictures of the victims, string linking in pieces of information pinned to the board and a map of Hawkins where each murder had taken place. He had even gone as far as getting transcripts of each phone call the victim received (something about his genius girlfriend being able to retrieve the information).

And that was where your interest piqued the most, unable to deny the way your eyes read over the transcripts multiple times as you analysed the phone calls.

Noting how different they were to your own phone calls with the killer.

“I think the answers are in the phone calls,” Dustin confessed to you as you both stood in front of the board. His hands were on his hips and he stared at the board with such intensity like the answer would appear before him at any moment.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I mean, they are a part of his game, no? They gotta be the answer to why he is doing everything.”

Yet, the idea of you just being another pawn in the killer’s game settled bitterly in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t like that. You didn’t like it at all.

…

“You stalking me, sweetheart?”

“Thought I would return the favour.”

“I’m flattered, baby.”

…

“They have to be connected,” Dustin sighed heavily, staring at the pictures of the victims he had pinned on the board.

“They are connected,” you said, sitting back on the couch with your feet planted up on the coffee table and an array of sheets of papers sprawled around you. They were a mix of missing persons flyers, police reports and articles that had been written since the very first murder on 4th July.

Dustin frowned. “They are?”

“They are all from the same year in school,” you pointed out, using the pen in your hand to point at the first victim. “Jamie Anderson, complete narcissist with an ego the size of Indiana.”

“Kinda comes with the jersey,” he muttered under his breath.

You pointed to the second photo. “Samantha Ricks—spent more time swiping daddy’s card and picking on people who wouldn’t talk back.”

“So they were every basic teen targets in a horror movie,” he pointed out with a blank face. “This isn’t really shedding light on why they were chosen.”

“Third victim: Charlie Hughes,” you continued, pointedly ignoring the boy’s pessimistic comments though they did gain a few points of respect from you. “I shared a chemistry class with him in senior year. He always held a grudge after I sabotaged his experiment.”

Dustin raised his brows. “Decent guy?”

“No, an absolute moron,” you stated bluntly before you pointed at the fourth victim. “Kennedy Jenson. A bitter mind in a pretty body, it’s sad to see her go.”

“Were you friends with her?”

You shot the boy a blank look.

“Okay, not friends, but…acquaintances?”

“She wasn’t all that remarkable though she was quite the ass kisser,” you pondered for a moment before you pointed at the final victim. “Katie Adams: extraordinarily self-absorbed and a copycat. I can respect many crimes but lack of originality is not one of them.”

“I’ll remember that,” Dustin murmured, a wary glance sent your way before he looked back at the victims. “So what? That’s our connection? They went to school together and were all unremarkable?”

“It’s too coincidental to be random,” you commented.

“You think he has chosen them on purpose?”

“Yes, but his purpose is the thing I can’t quite work out.”

…

“Do you have a reason you picked your victims?”

“Interested in my job, sweetheart?”

“Curious, really.”

“They all deserved it, I can promise you that.”

“And why did they deserve it?”

“Because they couldn’t appreciate perfection, sweetheart, and I can’t let that shit slide.”

…

“Maybe he has a motivator.”

You raised your brow. “A what?”

“A motivator,” Dustin repeated as though you’d suddenly understand him a second time round. But when your face remained blank, he let out a sigh and continued. “Like, maybe he is doing this all for someone.”

You pondered the thought for a moment. “You think he is just some lackey?”

“Maybe,” Dustin shrugged his shoulders. “Or maybe he is doing it for attention. Maybe he is doing this for someone so they can see it, so they can see his work. Like, a gift or something.”

“Interesting,” you murmured, keeping your face neutral as the boy continued to ramble.

“I mean, if that is the case, he would probably want to gloat to his motivator,” Dustin commented as his eyes flickered over the papers in front of him, fingers fiddling with the ball of string in his hand. “Or at least reach out to them so they know he exists.”

“Like a stalker?”

“Or, in a twisted way, an admirer.”

…

“Do you always watch me when you call?”

“I told you, I like to see who I am talking to.”

“Is there a point of watching me if you’re not going to kill me?”

“Maybe I just like watching you, sweetheart. Is that so hard to believe?”

“It’s a bit creepy.”

“Says the girl talking to Hawkins’ most wanted.”

“That still makes you the creepier one.”

“Because I’m talking to Hawkins’ biggest loner?”

“That was almost funny.”

“Maybe next time you’ll let me hear your laugh. But the smile you are trying to hide will do for now.”

…

“Delivery for—holy shit, it looks like a fucking murder scene in here.”

“Pass the pizza, Munson.”

“Kid’s got claws,” Eddie muttered as he passed the pizza boxes he collected into the boy’s awaiting hands before manoeuvring over the mess that had been sprawled over the living room floor to take a seat next to you. “What’s going on here?”

“Dustin thinks he is on the edge of a discovery,” you informed him.

“I am!” Dustin exclaimed. “I think you were right about the school year being connected.”

“Geez, wonder who saw that one coming,” you deadpanned.

“So I grabbed a copy of the yearbook and started making my way through it, seeing who matches the possible description the police have for the killer and—”

You started to drown the boy’s ramblings out, attention focused on the yearbook you had snatched from his hand as you began to flick through it. Dustin had crossed off people with a large, red ‘X’ on who he thought didn’t fit the killer image, along with question marks surrounding potential suspects.

But as you flicked through the yearbook—something you hadn’t even owned yourself, simply rolling your eyes when one of the committee members tried to hand you a copy on the last day of school—you found yourself taking in the pictures that were dotted throughout the book. Pictures that were taken throughout the four years of high school, of different friend groups and clubs and squads.

Pictures of the unsuspecting victims who didn’t know they would be dead less than two years later.

“You really think you’ll be able to find them in that book?”

“I’ll know a murderer when I see them, Eddie.”

Your eyes aimlessly travelled over each photo as you flicked through the pages before you paused. It was a double page feature on some of the sports clubs in Hawkins High School. There were pictures of different teams and meets and games and matches. There were pictures of the groups mingling and mixing. But the one that caught your eye was one of a jock and cheerleader, smiling and grinning at the camera like their future was full and bright ahead of them.

Jaime and Samantha—the first two victims.

But it wasn’t the happy faces or the arms thrown over each other’s shoulders that caught your eye, not when you knew long ago they had been friends in high school. No, the thing that caught your attention was the figure standing in the background, hidden in the shadows almost out of sight.

The figure was glaring at the couple, a glare full of hatred and pure spite. It was a look that went beyond typical teenage jealousy or testosterone rage. This was something deeper, something more primal. This look was wild and cardinal and animalistic.

This look was the look of a killer.

“It could be anybody in that year, Henderson,” Eddie said with a sigh. “It could be someone you would never suspect, it could be someone you’ve already crossed off.”

“Have faith, Eddie, the people I have crossed off are people who I definitely know could never be the killer,” Dustin assured the older man.

And the person behind the look was none other than Steve Harrington.

“Yeah, Edward,” you spoke up, unable to tear your eyes away from the photo. “None of these people could be killers. Never in a million years.”

…

You didn’t tell Dustin or Eddie your revelation.

You didn’t tell anybody and, to be completely honest, you had no reason to keep his secret. You didn’t have any evidence against the boy to actually take to the police, but you were sure with a little digging you probably would have been able to find what you needed—the confirmation any sane person would need to make sure they were 100% sure.

But you weren’t sane and you didn’t need evidence—you knew.

You knew the killer was Steve. You knew the voice behind the phone calls was Steve. You knew without a fucking shadow of a doubt that it was Steve fucking Harrington.

But the truth was that you liked that you were the only one that knew. Something quite like pride prickled inside you in knowing that the whole town was going crazy but you knew the man beneath the mask—and you liked that he had no idea either.

There was a dark sense of satisfaction in knowing that Steve Harrington had this whole other side to him. The boy next door, the heartthrob and the fucking king of high school—but you knew another side of him, the real side of him.

It was a heavy secret but the weight laid comfortably on your shoulders as the hours passed, Dustin and Eddie throwing theories around that you knew were nothing more than trash until you eventually packed up for the night and left.

You knew the second Eddie dropped you off and you stepped into your house that he was watching you, just like every other night. And something sick and twisted in you hummed in delight as you went about your routine, as you made dinner and walked around your house with those eyes glued to you.

And you waited and bided your time until the phone rang just like it always did, just like you knew it would because Steve himself was a sucker for routine and this was his favourite one.

“Let’s play a game.”

You raised your brows, the greeting a small change from his usual ones and yet the change was welcomed as you felt a thrill wrack through your body.

“What kind of game?”

“Hide and seek.”

“I thought your brain was a little more developed than that,” you said, wondering just which window he was watching you from. “Or you were at least a bit more imaginative.”

“There’s a catch.”

“Of course there is,” you hummed and leaned your head back against the wall, closing your eyes as his gaze washed over you like a welcoming wave.

“Aren’t you going to ask what it is?”

“Why should I when I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“You never fail to make me smile, sweetheart.”

“It’s my life’s mission,” you deadpanned before biting what he was baiting. “What’s the catch?”

“If you can hide from me, I’ll tell you a secret.”

“And if you find me?”

“Then you tell me a secret. Do we have a deal?”

You paused for a moment, the weight of his offer laying on you as you contemplated the game. A million different ways this game could go, and for all you know, maybe this was the night he decided he wanted to kill you. Maybe you were no longer a motivator to him or he knew that you were aware of his secret.

Or maybe Steve was just sick and tired watching you from the window and now he wanted the real thing.

“How long is my headstart?” You asked, only to hear his laugh crackling on the other end of the phone.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m already in your house.”

The line had barely been cut off before your feet were moving, your head pounding with a million different thoughts as you wondered just where in the house he currently was—if he was anywhere close to you now.

You knew it was planned. Steve was probably aware your parents were out of town again. And he knew you were home alone. Hell, Steve knew everything about you because despite what he said, he was a little stalker to you.

A little stalker who had five murders under his belt and was now currently chasing you through your own house.

If you were sane, that thought would terrify you. If you were sane, you would be dialling nine-one-one and screaming everything you could to the dispatcher before your life ended. If you were sane, you wouldn’t be running through your house, high on the thrill of a serial killer chasing you.

But you weren’t sane, not in the slightest.

Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest, your body buzzing with an adrenaline rush you had never felt before and, in some crazy way, you had never felt more alive as you did right now. With floorboards around your house creaking and doors slamming, this was the biggest high you could ever imagine.

The only advantage you had was that this was your house, and yet even that fell short when you knew Steve knew this house as well as you did. He had spent days watching you in this house. He had spent nights sneaking in to leave you gifts. He probably knew this house like the back of his hand.

Another fact that should have terrified you but once again, you weren’t sane.

The irony wasn’t lost on you that he managed to find you just as you made it to your bedroom, his hand grasping your arm before you could escape and your body pressed against the edge of the vanity table. Your chest was heaving with light pants but it was nothing to do with the chase and everything to do with the boy in front of you.

He was towering over you, the mask covering his face and the black robe hiding his body, but the lack of distance between your bodies let you feel his broad shoulders and built torso well enough.

Your eyes took in the sight, taking in the small details of the mask and the ghost figurine it depicted. Maybe to others it would be a terrifying sight, not even his eyes visible through the fabric but you could only let your curiosity grow.

He raised a gloved hand, the fabric rubbing against your skin as he ran a finger down the side of your face before tilting his head to the side, and you knew exactly what he wanted.

“A deal is a deal, right?” you said through soft pants, the blood rushing through your ears almost distracting if it weren’t for the fact the boy in front of you had your full attention. “I guess you want my secret now.”

He nodded slowly.

Your eyes never left his masked face as you spoke. “My secret is that I know it’s you under the mask, Steve.”

The silence settled between you, neither one of you looking away or even reacting, and for a small moment you wondered if the reveal shocked him that much. You wondered if he was trying to work out how you knew, or how to keep you silent. You wondered if you had rendered him speechless.

Then, he slowly raised his hand that had previously been tracing your jaw and pulled at the back of his mask, the fabric bunching up in his fist as he pulled the mask over his face. And what you weren’t expecting to see was his grinning face staring right back at you.

“I knew my girl would figure it out,” he spoke, voice low and huskier than the times you had heard him speak before. “You were always the smartest one in the room, sweetheart.”

And his amusement only seemed to grow tenfold when he noticed the shifted look of confusion grow on your face.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry, did I ruin your surprise?” he murmured, his hands dropping to your waist as the weight of his body trapped you against the vanity. “I didn’t mean to, sweetheart. Just couldn't help myself, gets me all excited when you get that look on your face.”

But you couldn’t bring yourself to reply. Not quite yet, not when you hadn’t stopped staring at his face and the way his eyes shone with an emotion you couldn’t quite read yet. Not when Steve Harrington had just revealed himself as the Hawkins’ murderer before you and all you could think about was the way his smile made your insides twist in a way you had never really experienced before.

“Why?”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, almost as surprised as you were by the single word that left your lips. “Why?”

You nodded and repeated, “Why?”

“Why, sweetheart?” Steve repeated, almost mockingly as he let out a laugh—a twisted, bitter laugh and it wasn’t directed at you. No, you knew it wasn’t when the lightness in his eyes disappeared, replaced with the same dark look you saw on his face in the yearbook photo. “I did this for you, baby. All for you.”

A crease formed between your brows and the boy softly cooed as he ran his gloved thumb over your skin.

“You didn’t hear them, baby, you don’t get it,” the boy murmured in a soft voice despite the acidic tone lacing his words. “I…I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t just hear them talk…fucking nonsense. Not about you. Not when you’re so…”

His eyes fell back to meet yours and they instantly softened as he pulled his gloves off, his fingers hesitantly reaching to trace your cheek. “Not when you’re so perfect. My sweetheart, so fucking perfect for this world.”

“Perfect?” you repeated, almost offended by the word.

But Steve only flashed you a goofy grin. “You don’t get it, baby. You don’t see what I see.”

You barely choked out a gasp as his hands spun you around, the warmth of his chest pressed closely against your back as you found yourself staring at your own complexion in the vanity mirror. Your eyes shifted to Steve as he stood behind you, towering over you, only to find his attention was already on you.

“Everything about you…it’s fucking perfect,” he murmured, eyes darkening as he tucked his body further against yours, his head dropping so his lips were brushing against your ear. “They called you names. They called you a freak…a loner…a fucking psycho, but they don’t get it. They never could understand utter fucking perfection.”

“That’s noble of you,” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed when you felt his warm breath fan across your skin as he chuckled.

“They needed to know, sweetheart,” he whispered to you, the hands that had dropped to your waist tightening their grip. “They needed to know who the real psycho was.”

“So you killed them?”

“I gave them what they deserved,” Steve gritted out through clenched teeth. “The bastards had it coming.”

“You know, you’ve just given me a full confession,” you told him, watching the way his eyes fell shut as he lightly nudged your ear with his nose, the hint of a smile on his lips. “I could run along to the police and there’s nothing you could do to stop me.” There was a small pause. “Nothing except kill me.”

His grip tightened and his head fell to your shoulder. “How many times do I have to tell you that I would never hurt you, sweetheart?”

“You don’t seem scared about the threat to throw you in prison,” you noted, fighting to keep your eyes on him and not the way his hands were sliding up and down your sides, the action almost comforting.

He huffed out a laugh against your shoulder. “You wouldn’t give me in to the police.”

“You sound so sure about that.”

“If you wanted to, you would’ve done it already,” he stated simply as he lifted his head enough for your eyes to catch his, noting the way his lips twitched upwards in a smirk that was all too smug for your liking. “But we both know why you haven’t told them shit.”

You cocked an eyebrow at the boy. “Oh?”

“The same reason you haven’t told Dustin or Eddie or anyone about my secret,” Steve continued, his voice was soft and calming like he had no care or worries in the world. “You like it, sweetheart. You like it just as much as I do.”

“Presumptuous,” you snided.

“Is it?” Steve tilted his head, eyes watching your expression closely as his hands slid past the black skirt you had been wearing, his hands a heavy warmth on your tight-clad thighs. “I know you, sweetheart. I know you liked knowing my little secret. I know you liked everything I did…reading those reports…imagining what it felt like when I stabbed those assholes again and again and again…”

His words trailed off, his words like a soft lullaby as you fought to keep your eyes open.

“You like that I killed people for you, baby. It fucking excites you to think about the way they bled and begged for their lives,” he whispered in your ear. “Because you’re sick and fucking twisted…just like me, just like those movies you always rent out. And I fucking love it, baby. I know you do too.”

“Because I’m morbid?” you murmured, breath caught in your throat when you felt his hands squeezing your thighs and his nails digging into the fabric of your tights.

“Because you’re perfect, sweetheart,” he said in such a final tone, his chest pressed against your back to the point you swore you could feel his racing heart. But it was hard to tell over the sound of your own pounding heart and his hands ripping through your tights.

“Steve,” you breathed his name out, unsure what you wanted to say but the boy just grinned at you.

“The way you say my name sounds like fucking heaven,” he murmured as his palms were pressed against your inner thighs, slowly moving upwards. “You gonna let me return the favour, sweetheart?”

Your chest was heaving with soft pants, his darkened gaze hard to look away from.

“I just wanna make you feel good, sweetheart, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. All of this is for you, I just wanna please you,” he murmured, analysing every inch of your face as he waited, as he bided his time.

The small nod of your head was a soft, almost invisible action but Steve didn’t miss it. He never missed anything when it came to you.

“Thank you, baby, gonna make you feel like the queen of the fucking world,” he murmured in between the soft kisses he placed along your shoulder, his hands moving to the apex of your thighs as he cupped your clothed cunt and let out a soft chuckle. “I fucking knew it.”

Your body slumped back against Steve.

“I knew this fucking excited you,” Steve grinned boyishly, his fingers running along the wet fabric as he basked in the way you sighed in pleasure. “My perfect girl.”

“Do something,” you breathed out, your fingers wrapping around his wrist as you urged them to move, to keep touching you.

“Anything you want,” Steve murmured against your neck, sliding his hand past the waistband of your panties as his fingers ran along your slit. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re so wet f’me.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about your ripped tights or the panties tucked to the side, not when you had the perfect view of Steve holding you against his chest as he circled your clit. It was soft, slow circles at first like he was testing the waters. But one moan from you and the boy was insatiable. He wanted to hear more, he wanted to be the cause of those moans.

He wanted to be the only one that could make you feel that good.

His eyes were locked on your face as he slid a finger inside you, whispered curses muttered under his breath as he felt your walls clench around him. Because you felt perfect, you were fucking perfect and you were all his. Just as he was all yours. You belonged to each other and nobody else and Steve would make sure of that.

“Do you like this?” he murmured, unable to stop the way his chest heaved with heavy breaths as he watched you squirm around his fingers as they slowly pumped in and out of you. The same hands that murdered five people, that killed just for you. “Do I make you feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, soft moans leaving your lips and despite the fact he was the one holding you against his body, fucking you with his fingers and whispering in your ear, you knew that you were in control. You knew that if you told him to stop then he would stop. If you told him to go faster then he would go faster.

And fuck, if that didn’t make the coil in your stomach tighten more than his thumb circling your clit.

“Just like that, Steve,” you moaned, eyes falling shut as you rested your head against his shoulder, as you let him nuzzle his face against your neck. “Don’t stop.”

“Never, sweetheart,” he murmured as he pressed kisses along your heated skin. “Wanna see you come all over me.”

Your nails dug into his forearm but Steve relished in the pain as he held your body tighter, as he watched your face scrunch up in pleasure through the mirror. He couldn’t even bring himself to blink as your lips parted, his name leaving your lips in a breathless moan as he felt your walls clench around his fingers.

And he didn’t stop.

Not until you let out a small whine, muttering his name as you tried to pull his hands away from between your legs—your shaking legs, Steve noted.

But he never stopped touching you and kissing you. His hands running up and down your sides, his lips pressing soft kisses onto any inch of skin he could. Steve had spent so many nights watching you from a distance, he needed to make up for lost time now that he had you in his arms.

“I knew you would understand,” he murmured, his nose pressed against your pulse point as he listened to your thundering heart. “I knew you were perfect for me.”

“Yeah, I can feel just how happy you are,” you commented, feeling his hard bulge press against your lower back and yet, it was almost endearing the way his puppy dog eyes found yours in the mirror.

This was the boy who had brutally murdered five teenagers, who knew you’d look at the reports and revel in his work. This was the boy who teased and taunted and played with his prey like a true, bloodthirsty killer. This was the boy who watched and waited and bided his time with you until he knew you knew.

And, now looking at the mirror, this was the same boy who was begging to make you feel good despite his raging hard-on pressing against the confinements on whatever he was wearing beneath the black robe he currently wore. This was the same boy who looked at you like you hung the moon, who would probably kill for you if you asked him.

This boy was Steve Harrington and you, without a fucking shadow of a doubt, owned him.

“Take your clothes off,” you told him, borderline ordered him as you kept your eyes on his lust-blown gaze.

He blinked. “Huh?”

“Take off your clothes, Steve,” you repeated, voice remaining steady despite the orgasm that had rocked your body minutes ago. “Or have you changed your mind?”

“I—no!” He said quickly as he shook his head, taking a step back so he had enough space to pull the robe over his head, leaving him in black jeans and a tight-fitting white shirt. You were almost disappointed it was clean, that it wasn’t covered in the blood of the victims he had brutally stabbed.

You watched as he pulled the shirt over his head, eyes darting over his broad shoulders and toned chest, lingering for a few seconds before his hands moved down to his belt buckle. You didn’t say a word as he continued to strip down, his clothes abandoned on your bedroom floor until he was left in his boxers.

And Steve stood there, clad in his underwear, watching as you stepped away from the vanity table. He watched as you reached for your shirt, pulling it over your head and he watched as you unzipped the little black skirt you were wearing. He watched as you ditched the ripped tights and ruined panties, watched as you unclipped your bra before you settled yourself on your bed.

“You look…” he trailed off, hooded eyes taking in every inch of you now that he had you up close. He would never get enough of you. “Fuck.”

“That’s reassuring,” you said, the hint of a smirk on your lips as Steve slowly walked to the edge of the bed, his hands clenched in tight fists at his side and he looked torn. “You okay there, Steve?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, a little higher pitched than normal.

“Say it, Steve,” you said to him, leaning back on your elbows as you basked in the boy’s attention.

“Can I…” Steve cleared his throat, a blush covering his cheeks. “Fuck, can I fuck you? Make you feel good?”

“You wanna make me feel good, Steve?”

“Please, baby,” his voice slightly whiny as he crawled over your body, kissing from your ankle to your knee. He continued to kiss up your thighs and stomach, up the valley between your tits and just every single fucking inch of you because he needed to. He needed to feel all of you. “Just wanna show my girl how fucking good I can be.”

“Are you going to be a good boy for me, Steve?”

“So good.”

Your lips were ghosting his as you pulled him towards you, a soft noise escaping the back of his throat as he tried to lean down to kiss you but you pulled him back as your fingers threaded through his hair with a gentle tug.

“Then fuck me, Steve. Fuck me like you mean it.”

The boy let out a groan before his lips finally met yours, his body almost sagging in relief like that single point of contact was what he needed. His hands squeezed your sides, his body fitting between your legs as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip until it was red and begging for him to kiss.

Your fingers tugged his head closer, moans muffled amongst the sound of your lips smacking and his soft whines as he reached down to push his boxers down, kicking them off the rest of the way when they reached his knees.

He pulled away for a few short seconds, panting heavily as he reached down to stroke himself, letting out a small wince as he teased the head of his cock before sliding it up and down your soaked cunt.

“Shit,” he hissed as he tapped his tip against your swollen clit, almost grinning at the way your nails digged into his skin in response. “You’re so wet, sweetheart. You look so fucking pretty.”

“Do you always talk this much?” you commented, a little breathless as you watched him slowly slide the tip of his cock in.

“Can’t help it, baby,” he sighed as he reached for you, one of his hands intertwining with yours and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from the touch. “I can’t control myself when I’m around you.”

“You should work on that,” you muttered, only to be cut off by your own gasp as he pushed himself inside you completely. “Shit.”

“Fucking made f’me,” Steve groaned, forehead pressed against yours as he felt your walls squeeze around him. “Perfect fit.”

“Don’t tell me you believe in fate,” you spoke, a little choked up when he started to slowly pull out before thrusting back in.

“I believe in a lot of things when it comes to you,” Steve confessed, eyes glued on the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.

Steve revelled in the way you clung onto him, the way it was his name leaving your lips like a fucking mantra as he thrusted in and out of you. Steve revelled in the way your nails dug into his skin, the way they raked down his back leaving scratches he hoped lasted for days after. Steve revelled in the way your lips met his in a messy, sloppy kiss so unlike you and yet, he fucking thrived in knowing he brought you to this point.

Steve revelled in knowing that he fucked you up just as much as you fucked with him.

“Shit,” he groaned, head resting on your chest as he tried to catch his breath, but it was impossible. It was always impossible when he was this close to you, when he was still inside you. “Did I make you feel good, sweetheart?”

You let out a small huff that almost sounded like a laugh, but Steve grinned regardless.

“Maybe you’re not totally hopeless, Steve,” you murmured softly, and against your better judgement you ran your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back so you could see his wide eyes looking up at you from where he laid on your chest.

“Is that just about the sex or everything?” he asked, unable to keep his hands to himself as he gripped your sides.

“The sex,” you said, so blunt and deadpanned and you that Steve couldn’t help but love the way you said it. “Your knife skills were admirable, but clearly the work of an amateur.”

His grin widened. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that sounded like an offer to learn from someone more well-versed with knives.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Interested in joining the business, sweetheart?”

And Steve fucking Harrington revelled in the way a smile broke out on your face.

“I can show you how it’s really done, Steve.”