#that alone like 10 fucking page paper
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c! "i don't think about you at all" quackity
#'he is going to regret what he did to me' <- really normal things to say when you're normal like cq is#he is so hot when he's mad. lord🙏#and the way he tries to cover up how fucking crazy he feels about what wilbur did. boy#also i tried to shorten this clip. and i straight up just couldn't#i'm also obsessed with cq talking about how cwilbur is not the same man. and then going on about how also he thinks wilbur hasn't changed#that alone like 10 fucking page paper#and do i think that it's true that cq had bigger fish to fry than wilbur at this time? absolutely#it's why their dynamic is painted as completely one-sided#do i also think that it's true that c!q does think about wilbur? on a similar level? yeah lol#like you can't really watch this vod especially and think any different#if this video is choppy well. it's because i slapped three clips together and called it good#it's nearly 6am. okay#personal#thes clips#c!tntduo
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feel like no one talks about how SHIT ASS FUCK it is to have the no sleep ever kind of depression rather than the sleep all the time depression. i am ,.. constantly aware,… always at every second t..thinking… awake… alivee. screaming. bursting into flames . praying to an invisible higher power to PLEASE allow me to close my eyes and dream for once ! a dream instead of a nightmare or black space full of squiggles …. something good and peaceful
#damn i made myself sound insane#💋💋💋whatever girlboss#im tired but i cant sleep so no one believes im actually tired but like there is no way my body could fathom up a way to explain just how#exhausted i am. my bone are tired my blood is tired my veins are tired my nerves are tired all of is shot to fucking HELL i am like a rabid#animal surviving on adrenaline alone….#lowkey a force to be reckoned with tho. i wrote three 10+ page papers in 4 days i feel alive#i need to call my mom soon
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✯CYBER SEX✯
THEE MUWAPGUCCI COLLAB PT 1
IN WHICH… Matt and Chris Sturniolo are just two inexperienced losers.
Lemme see you beat it, I'm feelin' just like Mike
Warnings: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD! NO ACTUAL SMUT BUT MENTION OF PORNOGRAPHIC MATERIAL AND BODY PARTS.
Humming is heard within the dark room, followed by the sound of typing and the clicking of a mouse. Matt's eyes dart across the screen, his glasses perched upon his nose. He was currently in his room, dressed in grey sweatpants and a long-sleeved crewneck. He was attempting to finish his paper that was due in a week, always eager to stay on top and ahead of the game when it came to his studies. However, he was distracted, his eyes periodically darting to the top of his screen.
9:00
9:30
10:00
10:30
He quickly saves his paper and goes to the website he has logged on to so many times.
Chaturbate.
A pornographic website providing live webcam performances.
He found the site a couple of months ago by accident. He was on his computer, looking up websites to help him write his paper when one of the sites opened up a separate tab with the erotic webpage. He was shocked to see multiple freeze frames of girls in lingerie or having sex.
Even though he lived alone, he felt like he was going to get caught. He quickly slammed his laptop shut. Now he wasn’t a prude, he didn’t care if people had sex,
But he himself has never done it, he hasn’t even touched himself.
Out of curiosity, he slowly opened the laptop again. He hesitated when scrolling through the pages, his eyes analyzing the multiple streams. Even though he could feel his pants tightening, none of the girls called out to him,
Until he found her.
It was a freeze frame of her in a baby blue lingerie set, smiling as she held a phone. He didn’t know what it was about her that caught his attention, but he found himself clicking on her stream.
That was the first night he had ever touched himself.
Since then, he has made it a tradition to touch himself every Thursday night when she goes live.
He logs in with ease, his password and username already being saved. His heart skips a beat as he sees the pink dot next to her name, signaling she's on and live. He clicks on the stream and watches as his favorite girl's smile greets him.
"Hi everyone." she's sitting on her bed, her body covered in a lavender lingerie set. "I know you guys will be mad at me, but this will be a very short stream, only 20 minutes." Matt's smile visibly deflates.
20 minutes? She’s only going to be live for 20 minutes?
He debates on just closing out of the stream, but he can’t find it in himself to do so.
“Aww guys, I promise I will make up for it! Maybe I’ll pull out the fucking machine in my next stream.” He can feel his pants tightening at the thought of her using the machine.
“But, I wanted to tell you guys that I have a surprise for you! Any guesses?” He watches as her eyes dart across the screen, reading the comments flooding in. “These are good guesses, but no one has gotten it yet. 2 more minutes and then I’ll tell you.”
Usually, Matt never comments, always preferring to be a silent viewer but, he wants to change that tonight.
Megamattsturn: does it involve us possibly meeting you?
He watches as her eyes light up and she giggles.
“Megamattsturn seems to have the right idea. You’re a smart boy aren’t you?” He sucks in a sharp breath at the praise, his pants tightening even more.
“I’m hosting a competition for you all! Before I describe what the competition is, it is-“ Matt gets distracted by the way her glossed lips catch in the light, the particles of glitter shining off the pink LED lights in her room. He could only imagine the glittery residue on his dick after she sucks him off.
“-So finally the competition! I know most of you have begged to meet me, even though all you want to do is have sex with me, so I thought I would extend the offer.” Matt perks up, his interest peaked.
“One of you will have the opportunity to take me on a date, and if I feel comfortable enough, maybe one of you will get lucky.”
Matt watches as the chat blows up with men and women already begging to be picked.
“So after I end the stream, a link will be available on my account that will take you all to the form. As I stated previously, it is $50 to enter. The form asks basic questions. Name, age, height, what your interests are sexually, if you have any STDs, and where you are located. At the end of the form, you do have to submit a video of yourself explaining why you think you should be the one to take me out on a date. And because I refuse to take anything small, I would like a video of your-.” She trails off with a smirk.
“Does anyone have any questions?” She waits a few moments and sees that everything is good, before giving the stream one last smile and logging off.
The page reloads and it takes him back to her account page. Sure enough a pink link is in her bio.
He hovers his mouse over it, getting ready to click it when he backs out. He shakes his head and clicks out of the tab, standing up and walking out of his room.
“Be serious Matt, she wouldn’t pick you anyway.” He mumbles as he grabs a water bottle out of the fridge. He walks back into his room and decides to try and finish his essay.
He struggles to stay on topic, the idea of the competition still lingering in his mind. He groans and saves his essay before shutting down his computer. He figures he will work on it tomorrow and just go to bed for now. He turns his lights off and lays down in his bed, his mind racing.
Matt sits in the campus library trying to do his homework, except his mind is clouded with the thoughts of the competition. It’s been a few days since the competition was announced and it’s all he could think about.
It’s pissing him off.
He wasn’t able to concentrate on his studies, he couldn’t pay attention in class, he couldn’t even listen to his music without thinking of this god-forsaken competition.
Deep down he wants to enter, he truly does.
He has the opportunity of a lifetime to take the girl in his dreams on a date, but there’s one problem,
He’s never been on a date, and he’s never even touched a girl.
He’s a virgin.
He just started masturbating a few months ago and now he might lose his virginity? There’s too much for him to think about.
He groans in aggravation and slams his book shut, snatching off his glasses and rubbing over his face. With a deep sigh, He leans back in his chair with crossed arms, staring down at the book in front of him.
He needs to get this sorted out before it really starts to affect his schoolwork.
Suddenly, a group of girls walk into the library and take a seat at a table next to him. He fights the urge to roll his eyes, the fact that they sat next to him when there were multiple empty seats all around pissing him off to no end.
He tries to shake off the frustration and opens his book again, grabbing his pencil and taking notes.
“Can you believe he sent me a picture of his dick?” This conversation took Matt by surprise, his note-taking stopping abruptly. “A picture?” One of the other girls responds. Matt tries to ignore them, but he can’t help but listen in.
“Yes! He sent the typical ugly-ass dick pic just holding it! Like bro, send a video from a good angle and let me hear you moan!” The girl exclaims rolling her eyes. The other girls laugh before switching to another topic, but Matt is still stuck on the previous one.
He knows he shouldn’t have listened in on the conversation, but they were telling him good information.
Girls don’t like awkward dick pics, they prefer videos of the guy jerking off and moaning. His cheeks begin to warm at the thought of sending a risqué video like that.
He’s pulled out of his thoughts by one of the girls turning to him, “hey you?”
Matt turns and look at them awkwardly, he can barley hold eye contact with them, his eyes looking everywhere but theirs. “Y-yeah?” His stutter makes one of the girls giggle. “You’re a guy right?”
“I-I would hope so…” He mumbles setting his pencil down.
She moves closer to him, her phone in hand. “Good, because maybe you could help me with this.” She unlocks the phone before shoving it in his face. Matt’s eyes widen seeing the picture of the dick, he quickly turns his head.
“Why do guys send pictures like this? Like it’s so ugly and does nothing to turn us on!”
Matt shrugs not really knowing what to say, “I-I don’t kn-Have you ever sent a picture of your dick? What angle did you take it from?” She cuts him off mid-sentence, taking a seat next to him.
Matt can’t belive how open this girl is asking him these questions. He couldn’t even sit through health class but she’s bold enough to ask him about his dick pic experience?
“I’ve n-never sent a picture like that…” He trails off, finally looking at the girl. She was pretty tall and had all the right curves in all the right places. “Really? You have never taken a dick pic?”
He shakes his head, nervously adjusting his glasses, “I have the opportunity to send one though….I-I just don’t know what to do.” He finds himself awkwardly admitting to his situation. All the girls stare at him with wide eyes.
He’s never sent a dick pic? He's a 21-year-old guy in college and he never took or sent a dick pic?
Their studies are quickly forgotten as they help educate Matt on taking the best picture and video. He thought the girls would judge him on his lack of experience, but they were all helpful and open-minded, claiming that if he is going to send one, he needs to make sure it’s actually pleasing.
Matt’s listening to everything they are saying, taking mental notes as well as real ones, so he won’t forget when it comes time. The girls find it adorable how actively he’s paying attention, asking questions that are questionable, but somehow still remaining polite.
"Aww, guys! We are like his older sisters teaching him how to get a girl!" One of the girls gushed. They all fall out into laughter, finding the statement true. They decide to pack up and leave since it's getting late out. They walk out of the library, holding arms with one another, Matt included.
The girls don’t care about him being a boy, they could tell in the short time frame they knew him, he was truly a nice guy. He was just shy and a bit awkward, but he was genuinely sweet.
They say their goodbyes and Matt begins to drive to his apartment. He catches a red light and leans back in the seat, a smile on his face. his phone buzzes making him look down.
Chaturbate message from lovely/n: Hey everyone! Just wanted to remind you that the link expires in one day! Make sure you enter! I’m excited to see the faces of my viewers!!
A new-found confidence surges through Matt,
He's going to enter the competition.
With his adrenaline pumping, he rushes through the door of his home, throwing his bag down on the counter and making his way to his bedroom. he plops down in front of his monitor and turns it on, quickly going to the taboo site and opening up her page.
Once again he hovers over the link, the little voice in his head telling him not to do it, telling him he wouldn't even get picked.
He shakes his head and clicks on the link. The screen reloads and a pink page pops up, a bright message is displayed, enticing everyone to submit their entry.
Matt scrolls down and clicks on the hot pink enter button.
Trying not to second guess himself, he begins to fill out the form
Name: Matt Sturniolo
Username on Chaturbate: megamattsturn
Age: 21
Height: 5'8
Location: LA
Hobbies:
Matt sighs in frustration. He was never good at telling people what his hobbies are, his mind always drawing a blank at the question. He goes through the list of things he likes doing and chooses a few that seem more appealing.
Hobbies: I really love writing, I'm actually majoring in film because I love to journal and I would love to turn my thoughts and feelings into movies, or even music videos. I also like to play video games... I know it's a bit cringy but it brings me a sense of nostalgia since I would play with my brothers all the time. I also really love the Lego sets you can build and keep, my favorite was the bonsai tree.
Tell me about yourself: I'm a triplet, the middle one to be exact. One of my brothers goes to college in NYC, while my other brother goes to college in Chicago. I'm originally from Boston MA and I have a dog named Trevor back in Boston.
Sexual interests:
He hesitates, he's not sure what he's into sexually. He's never experimented but he believes he would be open to it.
Sexual interests: I'm not too sure. I do believe I would be open to almost anything within reason.
What would our date look like?:
This form has to be mocking him, constantly reminding him that he is the least experienced person there is. It might as well call him a loser. He wants to back out so bad, but he's almost done so he keeps going.
What would our date look like?: I'm not a fancy person, so I wouldn't take you to some fancy dinner unless that's what you would like. I would most likely take you to some type of fair or arcade so I could win you something. Then we would sit somewhere with food and just talk. it's not the greatest date but I think it would be fun.
Submit your video here:
He stares at the pink words, his heart beating in his ears.
"Ok, you can do this Matt! come on!" He hypes himself up. He quickly sets up his phone and presses record.
He smiles at the camera shyly, not making eye contact.
"Umm, hi Y/n... I'm going to try and keep this short because god knows I'll ramble due to me being nervous-" he takes a deep breath before continuing.
"The reason for this video is to answer the question 'why I should be the one to take you on a date.' And my answer is that I don't really know. If I'm being completely honest, none of us, the viewers, deserve to be in your presence. I mean we watch you take your clothes off and play-" he cuts himself off, looking away from the camera with flushed cheeks.
"Not that it's wrong that you do any of that, but in retrospect, we all seem like perverts for watching you do so... umm if I'm being completely honest I've never been on a date before and that's probably a huge turn-off but yeah." He trails off. He doesn't know what else to say so he ends the video. He watches it back and internally cringes at how awkward he looks.
He deletes the video and decides to try again
and again
and again
and again
"Take 5," he mumbles to himself, pushing his chair back.
"Ok, hi Y/n-" he runs a hand through his hair and fixes his glasses. "-this is like my fifth time making this video and honestly, I don't know. There's honestly no reason you should even be giving us a chance at all to go on a date with you. I've never deen on a date before, so I can't tell you why I should be the one to win. I just know you're really pretty, and I would love to treat you out to a fun night, even with no sexual favors involved." He finally looks back at the camera.
"And yeah, that's all I have to say." He ends the video, watching it over before deciding this is the one he wants to use. He sends it to his desktop and adds it to the form.
submit special video <3 :
"don't panic it's just a video... of you touching yourself." He slams his hand down on his desk in frustration. All his previous confidence whisked away as quick as it came.
"You're such a fucking loser Matt! Why can't you just send the fucking video?" He hits himself on the forehead a couple of times, attempting to knock some type of confidence into himself. he needs to calm down, if he keeps getting this worked up he's eventually going to back out completely.
He gets an idea.
He stands up and rushes out of his apartment, knocking on his neighbor's door. His neighbor was some older guy who always had some type of alcohol in his hand.
Now, Matt has never had a drink of alcohol, but he's heard of liquid courage and he needs any type of courage he can get at this point.
The neighbor answers, looking at Matt in confusion. "What's good bro?"
"I need alcohol," Matt states bluntly. The neighbor raises a brow and takes a sip from his beer. "Aren't you 21?"
"Y-yeah but I need some now and I-I know you always h-have some." The neighbor shrugs, not really caring.
All Matt remembers is stepping foot in the apartment and taking a shot. Next thing he knows, he's clumsily setting up his phone and crashing back onto his bed, pulling his laptop with one of her previous streams loaded closer to him.
He starts recording and presses play on the stream, his hand wrapping around the base of dick.
He whimpers softly as he begins to jerk himself off, the alcohol in his system making him even more sensitive than he already is.
“F-fuck Y/n”
AHHHH MY FIRST COLLAB WITH MY POOKIE @guccifrog!!!!!! GO READ HER PART RN IF YOU HAVENT ALREADY! THIS IS A THREE PART COLLAB SO TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR PT 2!!!!
MWUAH, PEACHES 🍑
TAGLIST🍑
@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush
@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision
@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @teenagetrash00 @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo smut#smut#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris girl#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt girl
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boyfriend luke headcanons
pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader
summary: headcanons of bf!luke!
wc: 568
warnings: fluff!! cute luck, smut 18+. sfw and nsfw!
authors note: hiii guys!! guess whos back...me! i just finished my last final WOOOOHOOO! but i still have to write a 10 page paper final... gulp anyways!! i love writing headcanons recently... they're so fun so write. i wrote for luke, luke might be my fav hughes brother... he's been looking a little too good recently NO SURPRISE! anyways im working on more fics tonight so more things will be coming!! im currently working on a long quinn fic, super excited for that to come out. omg this is so long im so sorry, okay im done yapping now!! like and reblog if you enjoyed it<3 much love as always <3
OH!! my requests are open, send something in or just talk to me:)
happy reading<3
Sfw:
Bf!luke: luke loves having his hands on you at all times. Cuddling you when you guys are home alone and having an arm and hand on you when you guys are out in public. Always making sure you know that he's always there.
Bf!luke: luke loves to plan cute little dates for you guys, always changing it up. If it's a picnic in the park or dinner at a fancy restaurant. Your favorite dates are the random ones, just getting in the car and doing something, those always make the best memories.
Bf!luke: Luke is a quiet but attentive boyfriend. He's always there when you need a shoulder to cry on, he always listens to you about everything you want to talk about. Luke is quiet in some momentents but you don't mind it, you love how soft and quiet he is, showing how he cares for you in intimate ways.
Bf!luke: He's such a competitive game player. He hates losing, especially to you. Your favorite moment with him is when guys were playing scrabble and he lost in the last round, flipping the scrabble board with a dramatic sign. Lets just say he was picking up scrabble pieces for 2 hours straight.
Bf!luke: It's no secret that Luke can't cook, but he tries for you. Waking up before you, his mind set on making you breakfast. Trying to be as quiet as he can in the kitchen, trying to pull something together to impress you with. He always ends up going with things that don't involve him using the stove, as a safe bet. The cereal and yogurt bowls never fail to make your heart burst whenever you see them. Knowing it's not much, but it means so much to you because luke made it for you.
Nsfw:
Bf!luke: people wouldn't expect it but luke is one kinky guy. He loves trying new things in the bedroom. Tying you up, trailing ice cubes down your body, you name it he’ll do it.
Bf!luke: shower sex. Luke loves shower sex. Watching the water run down your body, has to be one of his favorite sights. Kissing your neck from behind you, guiding his hands along your waist pulling your body back towards him. He’ll slowly push your body against the shower wall, trapping you body with his arms caging you in as he works his way down you body, as your moans fill up the shower walls.
Bf!luke: luke loves it when you praise him, he definitely has a praise kink. Pulling on his hair while he eats you out. Looking down at him as he's between your legs, moaning at how good he looks from down there. Urging him on saying “fuck right there” “yes luke oh my god” “you look so pretty between my legs”, and his personal favorite is when you call him “good boy”.
Bf!luke: luke loves ur thighs, kissing them, laying on them, anything that has to do with your thighs he loves. He loves gripping them while your on top riding him, his large hands gripping your thighs with such force that will definitely leave a bruise the next day.
#nhl fanfiction#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#nhl fic#new jersey devils#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes smut#luke hughes
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gojo satoru as a sugar daddy
- gojo wasn’t the best as a sugar daddy AT FIRST. he would get bored of any sugar babies he had, they wouldn’t be “fun enough”
- until you came to his life
- he sees you as a goddess, as his muse, as his art, every piece of your body seems perfect to him
- he would spoil you with everything you want, clothes, makeup, a car? you get it, you want a dog? for sure, but you also want a cat? he will give you 10.
- and to say he would be possessive of you, HE IS. he wouldn’t even let you go alone to any place, maybe with friends, yes, but oh, there’s a boy going with you? he will say you need some protection, since there’s a “strong curse going around the city”
- would love showing his affection towards you every chance he gets, holding hands, pecks everything you try to speak to him, hugs, or just staying by your side.
- loves showing you off to his friends, co-workers, to anyone actually, even random people on the street, you’ll get embarrassed but that would make him even prouder of having you as his girl.
- he will buy you a lot of sweets, cakes, candy, lollipops, mochis, everything. most likely he would end up eating every of them before you can give the first bite.
- he LOVES going shopping with you, giving him a small runaway with those little dresses you put a show for him.
NSFW
- he would probably end up fucking you in the dress room of how pent up he gets seeing you.
- and that’s another thing he loves, semi-public sex.
- seeing you struggling to talk while he’s fingering you down the table? oh yes baby.
- marking you as his, only his. with love bites, bruises, a bite here and there.
- he would punish you if you don’t moan for him, he doesn’t care if you’re in a public place, it makes him harder think everyone knows he’s making you his. they wish to have at least just a touch of yours in them.
- he has a breeding kink. loves to see you full of his cum. sometimes when both of you decide to have a quickie, he wouldn’t clean you and would just pull your panties up so his cum can stay there. making your panties wet.
- dacryphilia? obviously. loves knowing you’re crying because of how good he’s making you feel. such a good girl for him.
- he’s a switch. AND BEFORE YALL GET TO ME LISTEN!!!!, he’s more on the side of a dom, but maybe some days he loves when you’re teasing him, and making him beg to cum in your pussy. he would cry at the feeling of release after finally you let him cum and thrust into you. or when you’re giving him a handjob, and he’s almost at his climax, but you suddenly stop, he becomes a cry baby for release. he wouldn’t admit outloud he loves being a sub sometimes.
- and that brings me to cockwarming. his favorite thing to do while he’s filling some papers up. which, he’s likely not doing that, maybe just doing little drawings at the pages, but you don’t need to know that, that’s a work for ijichi. he just loves the feeling of your warm cunt hugging his cock.
- loves seeing you struggle to not to move since he wouldn’t let you cum if you did. following daddy’s rules. such a good girl for him.
- he would love having a family with you, obviously when both of you get older, and he would love seeing you full of him, to later seeing you having his child. he might get obsessed with the idea of you being a mommy, so he would try every night fucking you in a mating press just to make sure you get pregnant.
- this boy has A LOT of stamina, he would go for at least 6 rounds, the 7th one he would go slower, 8th one, almost sleeping when you’re probably already asleep, 9th round, his cock is sore and overstimulated of coming so much, probably just staying inside of you. 10th round, and that’s enough baby.
- overstimulation? OF COURSE!!! for both sides, loves overstimulating you, and loves being overstimulated.
- and to finish, he’s really sweet at aftercare, would get a bath ready for you, to probably just fucking you again, but he would still take care of you!! massaging your sore body, washing every corner of it, doing your skin care, making you’re hydrated, and finally putting you to sleep <3
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#jjk x reader#satoru smut#gojo smut#gojo imagine#gojo satoru jjk#jjk#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru as a sugar daddy#pls i need a man like this
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Tardy, part 8
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: An unexpected family member reveal sends you spiraling, will anyone trust you now?
Warnings: Angst that turns into fluff, mention of violence, mention of sex
Word Count 2.6k
A/N: I was dying writing this chapter (both physically and mentally) but I think the writers block is gone! Thank you for 600 followers!! As always, love u guys, and tell me what you think <33
“Mom, who’s my dad?” You asked absentmindedly, legs swinging from your living room couch.
“All the other kids at school know who their dad is, who’s mine?” You continued, blissfully unaware of the tension you had just created.
Your mom turned sharply, cigarette between her lips as she spoke.
“Oh, sweetie. Your dad’s gone. It’s just you and me now.” She said as she brought the lighter up and ignited the cigarette.
“What do you mean he’s gone?” You’d asked, eyebrows furrowed.
Your mom lets out a frustrated huff before she answers again.
“I don’t know, he’s just gone. Okay? He left town. Would you leave this topic alone now?” She sounded annoyed, and you don’t want to upset her any further, so you nodded quickly and turned your attention back to the TV screen.
“Okay, Ma.”
-
You flash back into another memory, this time you’re older; freshly graduated from high school, ready to move across the country to start university.
You’ve bid your farewells to friends and relatives, promising you’ll come visit every year.
Your mom’s pulling you aside looking at you weirdly. She’s getting old, you can tell by the increasing wrinkles on her face every day.
She smiles softly, and you think she looks like the sweetest grandma ever.
“Honey, I want you to know something. About your dad.”
You raise an eyebrow, mouth dropping slightly.
Your dad has always been a touchy subject for your mom, she’s never really allowed herself to tell you the full story.
Sure, as you’ve gotten older, you’ve learned bits and pieces. He was a dirtbag, leaving your mom right after she gave birth. You’d also learned that you were born in a small town called Woodsboro but had been whisked away almost immediately.
Your mom sighs now, and everything suddenly feels very heavy.
“I just tried so hard to be both parents for you, I know it wasn’t fair to keep this from you for so long. But if you’re ready to learn who your dad is, I’m ready to tell.” She says, voice cracking only the tiniest bit. You can see how strong she’s trying to be.
You suddenly see your whole childhood flash before your eyes. Your mom sending you off and picking you up every day after school. Making meals for the two of you every night, working overtime to support the family.
“No Ma. It’s okay. I already have a dad, and his name is you.” You say, pointing to her heart.
She opens her mouth but you cut in before she can say anything.
“No, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need a dad when I have you.” You say, and you mean it wholeheartedly.
Your mother swells with happiness and takes you in a big hug. Wraps her arms around your shoulders.
“Be safe, honey.” She whispers into your ear.
-
You splutter, staring at the page in front of you with a jumble of letters that don’t look like coherent words anymore.
No…it couldn’t be?
There’s no way your dad was Stu Fucking Macher.
It doesn’t feel like you expected it would, finding out who your real father is. Years and years of endless crying; wondering why and why and why.
Every moment has led up to this.
This light, breakable paper in your palms. It’s telling you all you’ve ever wanted to hear, and yet somehow it’s also the thing you need to hear the least.
There’s quick flashes of déjà vu as you stare at the name.
Blood; lots of it. Splattered on the ceiling, all over your body. Screams, loud and clear as day, piercing through your eardrums and starting a ringing sound.
You snap back into reality as Sam steps up to you.
You brace yourself for the worse, you wouldn’t be mad if Sam kicked you out bare into the street right then and there, hell, she could hurt you and you wouldn’t even be mad.
She raises her hand but the impact never comes. Instead, she kneels down to you and holds your shoulders tight.
“It’s okay. I know it’s hard.” She says, soft. Her lips are pulled into a frown but her eyes are sorrowful.
“It’s- it’s okay?” Tara splutters, staring between you and her sister. Flabbergasted would be a minuet way to describe her expression.
“Yes. It’s okay. Can everyone leave the room for a minute? I want to talk to YN.” Sam says, and everyone heeds her orders; shuffling down through the living room hallway.
You stare at Sam, eyebrows knit tight together. She’s hated you since you the day you met, and now she’s the one protecting you?
“Why?” You ask, curiosity seeping through your voice.
“Everyone here has been through something.” She says, biting her lip. “And believe me, if anyone knows about being framed as the bad guy, it’s me.”
She hesitates a little before she opens her mouth again.
“Let’s not pretend that everyone here doesn’t have immensely traumatic things happen to them. Me and Tara…well we know about that. But Mindy and Anika and Chad? You wouldn’t believe the stories I’ve heard from them.” She says, twiddling with her thumbs.
“What if I’m actually the killer?” You press, gauging Sam’s reaction.
She tuts and answers sharply.
“I don’t believe for a second that you are.”
It takes you aback, her being so sure about it. You stay quiet, try to think of anything to say.
You can’t, it’s all too much information to get.
“How can you know that?” You say finally, tilting your head up to make eye contact with Sam.
She pats your back lightly. “You’re a good person YN. We can all tell.”
“We’re a family. One fucked up family, but family all the same. Including you.” She says, voice sure.
You hold eye contact for a while, a silent conversation being spoken. Setting aside all your differences, Sam was actually a really cool person. And you can tell she feels the same way.
Before you know it she’s out down the same hallway the group left in.
You’re sat on the couch, mouth open and eyes glazed.
Huh.
“YN? Mind if I come in?” Tara’s voice sounds from in front of you. You can’t decipher what the tone is.
“Yeah…yeah of course.” You answer, watching as Tara enters and stands before you.
You can’t handle her intense stare, and you drop your head immediately. Anxiety floods you, heart picking up speed.
You don’t notice her until she’s right in front of you, taking your cheeks in her hands. Stroking, softly.
10 minutes ago she was mad, and now she’s comforting you? This girl and her mixed signals.
“I believe you.” She murmurs, leaning down to press her lips on your cheek. She’s so short that even when you’re sitting down you’re almost the same height.
You don’t want to think about any of this now, you don’t want to think about it ever. You want to tell Tara this, but you can’t bring yourself to speak.
Your throat feels dry, eyes slightly teary.
“So what do we do now?” You whisper.
She continues stroking your face fondly, cradles you in her arms.
“We continue with the plan.” She says, and there’s a sense of finality in it that makes you shiver.
-
They’ve pushed back the date on their plan to capture Ghostface a little bit. Tara won’t admit it, but you know she’s the one who suggested it. She must think you need time to process the sudden father reveal, no doubt.
It’s sweet, but she’s wrong. In fact, right now all you need is a distraction. Something to take your mind off all the racing thoughts through your head, the sense of betrayal you feel.
Maybe I should call my mom.
“Hey. Whatcha thinking bout?” A voice sounds from behind you. It’s Anika, and you send her a soft smile; feeling weirdly glad to be in her company.
“Oh nothing much. Just about how my dad was one of the original Ghostfaces and that we’re literally running straight into danger in a few days.” You say, trying to make your voice sound light and teasing.
Anika seems to pick up on the underlying message, and you hear her sigh a little before speaking.
She rounds the couch to come sit down beside you, a pack of medical supplies in her arms. She splays it across the table and turns back to face you.
“If it makes you feel any better, I know what it’s like to have a rough family. My parents were…dipshits to say the least.” She says, casually.
Oh.
You try and think of something appropriate to say in response, but your brain seizes up and it goes blank.
“But you don’t have to feel bad for me. I have a new family now.” She continues, smiling at you; genuine crinkles at the tips of her eyes. She pats your back lightly.
“Just so you know, I don’t think you’re the killer. Who cares if your dad is Ghostface? It’s not like this is the first time it’s happened in our friend group. I trust you, really.”
It’s enough to make you teary-eyed again. You look away, hoping she can’t see them.
“Thank you.” You mumble. “That means a lot to me.”
She chuckles warmly before taking you in a hug. You guys don’t say anything the rest of the time she fixes up your wound.
-
“Are you blushing?” Tara asks immediately when Anika leaves the room, footsteps light.
“What? No, I’m not.” You say, running a hand through your hair.
“Did she make you blush?” She’s asking, a teasing smile on her lips.
You frown.
“She just said some very nice things to me, okay?” You huff, cross your arms like a child.
“Aw, baby. You look adorable.” She murmurs, giving you a peck on the lips.
“Are you not jealous?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow at her.
She brings a finger to her lips and feigns thoughtfulness. Then she smiles wide and takes your lips in a searing kiss.
“No.” She mumbles against them. “Because I know you’re mine. And I can definitely make you do a lot more than blush.”
It’s enough to make you flush completely red. You let out a little whine at her words.
“See?” She’s asking as she leans back, a smirk on her lips. You try and wipe it off by wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for another kiss.
She’s not wrong. But you’re not going to admit that. It’s a fatal flaw, really. How easily you relent when it comes to Tara. You’d die for her, you’d kill for her, and she knows it.
“Come on,” She’s whispering. “Let’s go to my room.”
You pull back, amused.
“I don’t think I can even stand and you’re asking me to do what?” You ask pointedly.
She tugs on your shirt, obviously not in the mood to play one of your games right now.
“Then maybe I’ll just take you right here.” She whispers into your ear, laughing as you shiver beneath her.
You gulp, stare at her with big eyes. She crawls forward, leaning her elbows into your sides on instinct.
You can’t help but wince.
It seems to break Tara out of her lustful haze, because now she’s looking at you with worried eyes.
She’s getting up kind of panicky, fiddling with her hands.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I should let you sleep.” She says, sort of fast, words tumbling out of her.
You smile at her, grip her hands tight.
“It’s okay, Tara. Although, I do want to hit the hay for a while. Care to join me?” You invite, tugging her closer slightly to make sure she doesn’t leave.
She grins shyly and nods.
“Okay.” She says, biting the inside of her cheek. She’s the cutest with the excitement that radiates off her.
-
When you wake, Tara’s not in your arms anymore. You stir, rubbing your eyes aggressively.
“Tara?” You groan, trying to look around the weirdly dim room for any sign of your girlfriend.
You notice the candles immediately, more than a dozen of them lining the table and making a little pathway to the fireplace.
Your girlfriend appears in front of you now, wearing a little white sundress; one you’d specifically bought for her weeks ago.
She looks so good, you almost start drooling. Like an angel, the way she’s standing and staring at you, playful, excited gaze.
“I was wondering when you were going to wake up.” She grins, bending down to press a kiss to your cheek.
“What is all this?” You question, looking around the room in further inspection.
There are two plates set up quite nicely on the dining table, along with a bottle of champagne and a single flower in the middle.
It’s all so, romantic.
Tara twirls, and gives you a little show of her dress. Then she takes your hand and gently helps you up, leading you to the dining room with her.
“I never got to take you on a date. I think it’s time I return the favor.” She says, nodding along to her sentence; like a reassurance.
“You’re adorable.“ You say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. She blushes a little.
“Thank you.” She mumbles.
The smell as you enter the dining room is mouth-watering. You recognize it immediately. It’s your favorite pasta, ravioli with white wine and tomatoes.
Tara’s an amazing cook, you know this already. But the flavors that explode in your mouth when you take a bite out of it are otherworldly.
“This is the best thing you’ve ever cooked.” You speak through stuffed cheeks, eyes wide and happy.
Tara picks up a piece of her own and eats it.
“I didn’t know what to make you, so I called your mom. She said this was your favorite, so I went on youtube and tried to replicate the recipe.” She says, somewhat shyly.
You beam.
“You called my mom?” You ask, teasingly. Boop her on the nose. You celebrate internally when you see her flush red.
“Yeah, it was no biggie. Just a phone call.” She disregards, biting her bottom lip to try and stop the color that’s overtaking her whole face.
She reaches forward to grab another piece of ravioli before she stops short and gasps.
“Oh! I almost forgot to give you these.” Tara says, reaching behind her chair for something. She pulls out a huge bouquet of flowers, filled with your favorites.
You don’t try and hide the surprise in your face, mouth open and gaping.
She slaps your arm lightly at your reaction.
“Hey! I can be romantic too you know.”
You nod sarcastically.
“Oh yeah no doubt no doubt.” You say, taking the bouquet from her hands in favor of bending over the table and kissing her.
“Thank you, baby.” You say against her lips. She smiles wide, scrunching her nose as she pulls back.
“You taste like pasta!” She’s giggling, pushing you back into your chair.
You finish the dinner in record time, and that’s due entirely to how good the meal was. You and Tara sit and talk for a little while before moving to the floor to watch a movie.
Tara’s annoyingly secretive about it, not letting you see whatever she’s setting up. You huff and go grab snacks from the fridge instead.
When you get back it’s to the TV covered, and there’s a small projector at the side shining light on a random bed sheet she’s hung vertically.
“Impressive speed.” You praise.
Tara’s sitting smugly, arms open and inviting you to come sit.
It’s playing 10 Things I Hate About You, one of your all-time favorite movies. You settle down into the spot next to her and sneak a glance over, but she’s already staring at you; hard.
You let out a breath of happiness and pull her closer by the waist. Kiss her on the forehead, murmur against her skin.
“Thank you for this. I needed it.”
She nods into you and pulls you impossibly closer.
“Of course.” She says.
You decide Ghostface can wait, your dad can wait. All that matters right now is Tara. Her and this movie and you.
The only three things that exist in the world.
#tardy#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#scream vi#mine#scream#tara carpenter x you
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@magnusbae challenged me to write smut using professional email language, and i'm nothing if not a slut for abusing corporate jargon!
-----
>> Saturday, March 26, 8:32pm – Morpheus <morpheus @ dreaming.com> to Office (All):
Subject: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
I do not appreciate tardiness. Cease your dallying at once come Monday morning. Or there shall be consequences.
>> Saturday, March 26, 8:41pm – Hob <robert @ dreaming.com> to Morpheus:
RE: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
Morpheus, mate, all due respect, what with your being the sole god, ruler, and iron-fisted authoritarian of the place, but do you have nothing at all better to do than send work emails on a Saturday night?
And before you say, "but Hob, you yourself are replying to emails this Saturday," you are so right! I’m currently drinking alone :)
>> 8:42pm – Morpheus to Hob
I should fire you for such insolence.
>> 8:47pm – Hob to Morpheus
Do it then :)
Alternative proposal: we commit several HR violations like we did in the office on Thursday.
>> 8:50pm – Morpheus to Hob
All proposals must be submitted to me in writing.
>> 8:52pm – Hob to Morpheus
You really want a paper trail?
>> 8:56pm – Morpheus to Hob
It has an email trail already, does it not?
>> 9:05pm – Hob to Morpheus
Please find attached my detailed proposal.
attachment: :)_version_1.docx
>> 9:07pm – Morpheus to Hob
This is twelve pages that only say, “I want to suck your dick.”
>> 9:09pm – Hob to Morpheus
What, have you got edits or something?
Do you need more time to review? Wanna circle back on it later? Block some time on my calendar to go over it? ;)
>> 9:15pm – Morpheus to Hob
My redline is attached.
attachment: :)_version_2.docx
>> 9:17pm – Hob to Morpheus
I’m amenable to those changes.
But on second pass I think we can accomplish more in this partnership. I think I’d like to take you apart slowly, have you begging. You’re always demanding, I think it might be good for you to beg for once. It’s not good business to agree without a little negotiation. I wanna see you beg for my cock.
What are your thoughts on this addition?
>> 9:40pm – Hob to Morpheus
Hi Morpheus, I hope this finds you well. Just following up on this question :)
>> 9:50pm – Morpheus to Hob
Perhaps I am considering.
You may wish to consider that I am your boss.
>> 9:53pm – Hob to Morpheus
I think there’s been a miscommunication. You seem to be laboring under the misapprehension that I give a fuck about that.
>> 9:54pm – Morpheus to Hob
I truly should fire you.
>> 9:55pm – Hob to Morpheus
Don’t you think you deserve to cum first?
>> 9:56pm – Morpheus to Hob
After I beg for it, you mean?
>> 9:57pm – Hob to Morpheus
Now you’re getting it.
If I correctly guess that you’re in your bed, that you’ve BEEN in your bed while you’re “considering,” do I get a gold star? Employee of the month?
>> 10:00pm – Morpheus to Hob
There is no possible universe where you win such an award.
However, your supposition may be correct.
>> 10:02pm – Hob to Morpheus
Excellent, so we’re on the same page, then :)
Are you touching yourself? Are you imagining it’s me touching you instead? Because I’m imagining I have you under me and I’m fucking into your tight hole instead of my hand. (And typing emails w/ one hand is not so easy btw).
>> 10:03pm – Morpheus to Hob
I have two fingers inside me. But it is not enough. I would have your cock.
>> 10:04pm – Hob to Morpheus
I think you know what I wanna hear.
>> 10:05pm – Morpheus to Hob
…Please.
>> 10:06pm – Hob to Morpheus
There’s a good boy.
Don’t worry, love, I’ll give you everything you want. You’re taking me so good, I just know it. Going to feel it for days.
>> 10:07pm – Morpheus to Hob
I am.
Yes
I would have you come in me. If you’re amenable.
>> 10:08pm – Hob to Morpheus
Fuck you make me so hot. Yeah I’m amenable. Will you cum for me first? Can you cum just from the feeling of me inside you?
10:09pm – phone call from <unknown>
“I thought… you would want to hear it.”
“God your voice… did you get this number from the HR directory?”
“What if I did?”
“Kinda stalkery but kinda hot. Are you close?”
“Very. I… I want you. Badly. Please, Hob.”
“I have you, darling. Ah, you beg so pretty. You can come. I want to hear you. Can you do it without touching yourself? Be good.”
“I can’t—”
“I know you can. Go on. Imagine me with you. Holding your hands to the bed so you can’t touch yourself. I can imagine how beautiful you look. I’d kiss you if I was there, wreck your mouth, too.”
“Hob—”
“Go on. For me?”
“Ah—”
“There you go, sweet thing. I wish I could see you.”
“Will you… come for me now? So I can feel you inside me?”
“Fuck—”
“Good. You feel… so good. Worthy of employee of the month, perhaps.”
“Oh, fuck you, Morpheus. You don’t even have awards at this place.”
“Of course I don’t. That would be inane.”
“Are you satisfied with my efforts, at least?”
“I am pleased to say that I am.”
“Still, I think we should probably debrief that meeting. You wanna touch base about it in person? Say… eleven pm? My calendar’s clear.”
“…Yes.”
#wow this is the first smut i finished in ages. no surprise it's the one that's only dialogue. fuck writing descriptions of things XD#dreamling#magnusbae#dreamling fic#my writing#there are so many good ones i didn't get in this. 'bandwidth' 'let's connect on that' 'can you provide some color' etc
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When We Didn't (m)
A SVTHUB COLLAB
Pairing: afab!reader x jihoon
Genre: fluff, slice of life, angst, smut
word count: 4.9k
tags: extrovert!reader, opposites attract, flashbacks, college au, slow burn, pussy drunk!Jihoon, slight exhibitionism, oral (f. recieving), fingering
Summary: Remember when we almost? But we didn’t. And now what, you’re gonna sit alone, underneath your barely standing Christmas tree and not expect me to sit next to you? Maybe we should’ve.
author note: make sure to check out all the other member this collab at this link or @svthub !
5 years ago
You scramble to get to the first class of the morning, thinking to yourself it should’ve been a crime to have classes before 10 am. It was the first day of freshman year and you were already late.
The lecture hall was packed to the brim seconds before classes would start. You’d scan the descending seats, hopeful for even a few inches of space. A faint voice starts to speak out next to you and looking down you see a man with utterly soft fairytale-like features. He initially stuns you at first until you realize he’s telling you there’s an empty seat next to him and you whisper to him plenty of words of thanks.
You settle beside him, taking out things from your backpack, throwing quick glances back at him, and eventually realize the severity of your consequences when you notice how you forgot to pack all the necessary items for your first day. “Fuck.”
The quiet man nonchalantly offers a pen, peeking through his specs. “Here.”
“Really?” You take it from his grasp. “Thank you.”
He nods and turns back mindlessly to his journal, preparing himself for the note-taking. After some more scrambling, you sheepishly poke at his shoulder and avert his attention back on you, seeing that awkward apologetic grin on your face. “I don’t want to bother you again, but can I have a sheet of paper?”
He nods, tearing one out and handing it to you the same way he had the pen, which you accepted graciously. “And…I didn't bring my textbook so–”
“I’m not tearing you pages from my textbook because you don’t have yours.”
“Not that,” you reassure, unsure whether he made a joke or if he actually thought you’d ask that of him, “If you don’t mind sharing, that’d be great. It’d only ever be for one time.”
The man sighs, begrudgingly pushing his book until it centers the both of you. “There.”
“Thank you,” you whisper and scoot closer to him, almost too close for comfort.
He pays you no mind for the rest of the time, even when you cross the invisible lines that were essential to common courtesy. He knew he just had to deal with it one day (which was far from the actual truth), and lucky for him, you knew how to be quiet for the most part anyway. The class came to an end eventually and he was grateful for that, he just had two more classes for the rest of the day. Picking up his belongings, you block off his path with a smile.
“Thanks again,” You bring out your hand for him to shake, “I’m Y/n.”
“Jihoon.” He answers plainly, barely reciprocating your gesture before getting up to follow everyone else through the exits.
You mouth his name as if committing it to memory and was quick to get a step behind him. “You should let me thank you sometime…Jihoon.”
“That’s not necessary.”
You halt in front of him before he could exit the doors. “At least a coffee. We are gonna be classmates after all.”
He sighs, avoiding those puppy eyes that come naturally to your golden retriever energy. He usually avoided people like you. People like you were draining, distracting, and he’d rather stay cooped up in his apartment rewatching Inuyasha for the thousandth time.
Yet.
“Just a coffee?”
Your eyes light up like the fourth of July. “And your insta?”
Present Day Christmas Eve
“But I wanted to celebrate Christmas with you,” You whine over the phone.
Your mother’s reassuring voice resonated from your phone. “Sweetie, you’re young and able-bodied, you’ll find something better to do than hanging around two old coots.”
“Well, you old coots have a one way trip to Hawaii, how will I top that?”
It turns out your parents hit the jackpot on some bingo night at the community center and would be traveling without you. No doubt, it hurt that you wouldn’t be going, but it hurt more that you wouldn’t be with your family since you spent pretty much every Christmas with each other. It was like things were changing before your eyes. You were growing older and older and you weren’t their little kid anymore. You were on your own.
“There’s always next year, sweetheart.”
You sigh defeatedly and hang up before trying someone else. The dial tone became an incessant noise in your ear after several attempts of contacting your friends. The messages blew up soon after rejection and apologies. Who knew on the Eve of Christmas no one would be available? (Of course, you knew but it couldn’t help to try).
“Y/n, I’m sorry.”
Groaning into the phone in frustration, almost sobbing into the phone about to hear another rejection come from a loved one’s lips. “You’re kidding.”
“This is me and Mingyu’s first Christmas together. Maybe try Cheol? Yeri? Joshua?”
“They’ve been talking about their alps for months!” You slump in your loveseat and whimper into the cushions. You could hear your friend’s sigh of pity on the other line. “Come on, there has to be one other person in your same predicament.”
“I don’t know about that.”
You've gone up and down your contact list, almost closing in on coworker numbers, and acquaintances, including a hookup that slipped his number in your phone without looking. Even that sounded tempting at this point. Lucky for you, you weren’t that desperate.
There was one last person you thought to call though. They’re also the first person you thought to spend Christmas with besides family. A person that you thought could spend all your time with. The question was whether he wanted to spend such a holiday with you.
Sometime after your first encounter
Jihoon planned to continue his quaint life as a college student, but you didn’t make it easy. Despite the lack of assigned seating, you made sure to take the seat next to him every day, waving at him when you enter the classroom after him a beat later. You made sure you wouldn’t come to class late again just to sit next to him.
“Hi, desk mate—I mean Jihoon. See I remembered.”
He sees you take your seat, settling in on the fact that there was pretty much his designated seat now no matter how early he arrives, “Hey.”
Taking his things out of his bag to be blindsided by you who pushes packaged convenience food in front of him. “Breakfast!”
“You said it’d only be coffee.” He points out a matter of fact.
“I did.” You point to bottled expresso. “Right there. Everything else is interest.”
He sighs, taking the coffee and stuffing it in his bag. “I’ll just take this. Thanks.”
“Come on, you’ll be hungry later.”
He flips through pages of his textbook, happy being using it alone, “I’ll survive.”
You somehow became a thorn in his side seeing you routinely and he made no effort in changing that. Where he was, you went. You made yourself nearly impossible to avoid. Over time, he found himself relying on you because of it. Though he found you a nuisance at times, it wasn’t all bad. You were chirpy and clingy, but that proved yourself to be useful at times.
“Shit!”
Jihoon never runs for a few reasons: it’s tiring, he gets sweaty, and he gets red. Really red. So, being tardy to lectures was not on the agenda, until the day he had no choice.
He burst through the lecture hall much like your first day, late for the first time ever in his life, he blames it all on his dorm mate that came home drunk and insisted on him dancing with him in the middle of the common area for no reason and cleaning up his puke soon after (yeah maybe his roommate’s name rhymes with toonyoung).
He tries getting to a seat inconspicuously as possible if any were available, and that’s when he hears your harsh whisper. Your hand waves him over and pointed at the seat next to you that had your backpack currently occupying it.
He sighs but nods at you in a quiet thanks before accepting the invitation. You grin from ear to ear watching him get in his seat and pass him a Pocari sweat, like some kind of guardian angel. “You’re a bit red. Have at it.”
He gulps looking back at the refreshment and accepts it before chugging half of it down in desperation. “Thank you.”
“There’s always more if you need it.” You lightly nudge him before directing your attention to the lecture.
He glances back at you, wondering how you always keep that optimistic smile on your face relentlessly, how you never grow tired, and he starts to think about what motivates it all. You were an average student like he is. What was there to smile about?
Class ends again like aways and much like other days, here you were following him like a newborn puppy. Most days he ignored you, but that day he didn’t bother trying. Instead, he felt a sense of gratitude.
“Does this mean you’ll let me have your insta now?”
Not stopping in his stride, he flattens out his hand in your direction. “Phone.”
“Really?” You ask as happily as a child, already taking it out and unlocking it before handing it to him.
He immediately pulls up your contact list and adds himself in, his name as plain and straightforward as possible. He hands it back to you. “I put in my number. I don’t have Instagram.”
“That’s fine! I can call you all the time now.”
You try retrieving it before he pulls it away with an authoritative expression. “Not all the time.”
“Alright, alright.” Finally grabbing hold and editing the name by adding a heart to the end. “So, what’s the rest of our day look like?”
Present day Christmas Eve
“Y/n.”
Your relationship with Jihoon now was hard to put into words. You were no longer classmates, and now you even wonder if you are even classified as friends. Your history was everything but nothing all at once. If you had a gun pointed at your head, your brain wouldn’t process the answer fast enough to save yourself. Just exactly what were you to each other? Better yet, what were you to him.”
“What’s up?”
He could hear your signature chipper on the other line, somehow weirdly nostalgic. “You called me.”
“I know, but it’s Christmas Eve, what are you doing?”
“Mmh, just, around.”
You scratch your head at his vague answer. Jihoon was indeed a man of few words but not that few. “You’re alone, aren’t you?”
Jihoon may have forgotten about the holidays coming around the corner and made no plans, but that was easy being the workaholic he was. He clears his throat, lingering in the awkward silence he’s put upon himself, “…Well—“
You shake your head at him as if he could see you, “Oh god, you are. I’m coming over.”
He could hear you rustling in the background, eyes rapidly blinking at his realization. “W-w-why?”
“Well, because.” You answer, the rattle of your keys heard through the phone.
He blinks, awaiting for other words to follow only for them to never do. “Because?”
“Yeah. Because.” You bite your lips, hoping he doesn’t hear how hard you’re smiling.
“…Don’t you have plans?”
You hum, breaking out into that smile you tried suppressing. “I do. With you.”
Last year of college
“No.”
“Why the hell not?”
Jihoon was open about being a hermit. He didn’t make an effort to go to places like parties, clubs, or even school events. Not that he didn’t get invited, because he had plenty of invites, trust him. He just thought it was a desperate attempt for most people to do the inevitable: get drunk, get laid, or get embarrassed.
“I don’t like parties.”
“But I’ll be there.” You tug his arm, pleading with him with your eyes.
He pulls himself away from your grasp. “More than enough reason not to go.”
“You love me don’t lie. I’m the light of your life.”
The unamused look on his face told you otherwise but despite the protests, you convince him somehow to come through. Never in this lifetime did he think someone could persuade him to willingly go to a frat party and now here he was with his peers, who were all drunk and out of their minds, including you.
You had plenty of drink, quickly becoming one with the music and atmosphere that almost worried the introvert. If you weren’t careful and he hadn’t been around, who knows what would’ve happened? Even if you had been annoying, you became tolerable, he desire no ill will disposed on you.
You cling to him harsher than you usually do, which he let happen. The stench of cheap beer and wine coolers staining your clothes and breath. Jihoon knew who could’ve been in a better situation, but at this moment it could’ve been worse. If not for you, there’d be more people coming up to him that he could help without pestering him to drink, play beer pong, or something of the equivalent. You were more than the perfect excuse to do no more socializing than necessary. So as far as he knew it, tonight should’ve been just fine.
“Jihoon…Jihoon…” You play chopsticks on his shoulders, imagining them as a big piano.
“What?” He answers, nudging you off him.
You drape your limp arms over him. Your hot breath tickles his cheeks, which on grew pinker from the body heat. “I’m like, super, fucked…”
Of course, the downside of all this was you were drunk enough on behalf of everyone else attending this party combined.
He rolls his eyes knowingly, a taut grin on his face as he tried helping you from falling over in your seat. “I know. I was there when you almost drank yourself to death.”
“But, but…I have a secret…shhhh, don’t tell anyone.”
He shrugs his shoulders, mindlessly tending and listening to the ramblings of a drunk college student. “Who would I tell?”
You stabilize yourself against him, cupping a hand to his ear. “To be honest…I like you a lot…”
He softly scoffs in disbelief. He pushes away sweaty strands of your hair away from your forehead before flicking it lightly, tossing you back with a giggle leaving your lips. “I see…Well, that’s a shame. I tolerate you.”
You pout childishly, latching to his bicep helplessly, “That’s okay...”
He pinches his nose, “…You reek of alcohol.”
“I should reek of you.”
“That made absolutely no sense.” He says, playing dumb.
“It means…I want to kiss you.”
He didn’t like how that affected him. Even with his sobriety, he could feel how his heart’s pace match yours without delay. This awe-stricken gaze in your eyes he couldn’t comprehend paired with the sweet image of your puckered lips aiming towards his face. Why was he even a little bit tempted?
His palm falls flat against your lips, protecting you, and maybe even himself, from a mistake waiting to happen. “…You’re drunk…You’ll forget all this next morning.”
And that’s what happened. After that night, you puked your guts out, holding on to the toilet bowl for dear life, and were knocked out soon after with the aid of Jihoon and your dormmates. You don’t remember a wink of that night, waking up the next day with a headache and Tylenol with water by your bedside. You don’t remember your drunk confession, or the way you openly threw yourself at him, nor the look in his eyes when you admitted it.
Jihoon, however, remembered everything. It haunted him. He feared it happening ever again. He couldn’t like you and you weren’t supposed to like him. It was better off this way. Right?
Present day Christmas Eve
Although a lot of things changed, a lot still didn't. Jihoon still didn’t drink, but he had to have been drunk if you were actually standing in the middle of his apartment right now with a grocery Christmas ham and a carton of eggnog (the worst possible combination by the way). Your all too familiar smile woke up the pit of his stomach that was vacant when he last saw you. It brought back that same fear again. A part of himself wanted to close the door on you but every other fiber in being was resilient against it.
So now here you were, heading to his kitchen, placing the eggnog in his fridge, and taking out the grocery ham from its packaging. “I’d have more food, but I was in charge of the ham and eggnog this year. The turkey’s less popular cousin and the season’s choice of drink: dairy…I obviously got the shorter straw. Ha-ha mom and dad.”
His eyes just curiously followed your every move, wondering what made you decide to be here of all places after all this time. You raid his cabinets like it's your own home, taking out a small sum of food he had, thinking to yourself that you could probably conjure up something appetizing. Otherwise, it was gonna be coke zero for dinner, which didn’t sound too bad at this point. “Thank god you have more than ramen in here. I was worried I was gonna have to throw you an intervention after visiting.”
“What are you doing here, Y/n?” He finally asks.
You look up from your busy hand and meet his eyes, still unreadable and solemn. “I’m celebrating Christmas with you.”
“Why?”
“Why not–Oh my god, you have a tree.” You approach his barely hanging tree that was only a foot taller than its owner. “This is…cute. Questionable how it’s still standing, but cute.”
He raises a brow, “Now, you’re insulting my tree?”
“I said it's cute, didn't I?”
Jihoon felt his lips twitch in an almost smile. “You’re annoying as always.”
“Nice seeing you too Jihoon.”
Last year in December
“Funny. I thought you two would be going out by now, not, what’s his face, Wonwoo.”
You were often seen around the guy, chatting, laughing, and sympathizing. Wonwoo was part of your Latin History lecture and he knew how to keep you entertained. Rumor had it that you were seen spending more than platonic time together. It was almost the amount of time you were used to spending with Jihoon, if not more.
“Yeah, well. Up to them.”
Soonyoung looked back at his roommate with concern. Despite Jihoon having not said a word, His feelings for you were blossoming before Soonyoungs eyes and he finds his roommates wandering your presence. He felt the shorter man open up more because of you and maybe he could find his own happiness someday.
It was all until Wonwoo came into the picture. Tall, handsome, and sensitive. Untouchable, compare to Jihoon.
“He’s not even all that …okay, that’s a lie. I’m huffing copium right now, he’s gorgeous,” he admits as he scrolls through the spoken man’s instagram.
“What’s your point, Soonyoung?”
Jihoon lacked life in his eyes and if it was possible, Soonyoung could’ve heard his own heart shatter at the sight.
“Just..hang in there, buddy.” The blonde pats his peer on the back, and his ineffective reassurance goes unnoticed.
Whatever the hyperactive roommate meant was none of Jihoon’s concern. He was busy ignoring the erupting feelings he had for you. To make the matter worse, he had to deal with the fact that he perhaps lost the many chances to act on his feelings. For all he knew, Wonwoo could’ve been the real deal.
But then again, that wasn’t any of his business.
“Hey stranger,” You sit beside him in a place you were both familiar with.
He smells the whiff of hot cocoa with a hit of peppermint emitting from your cup. It was your usual. You placed it next to his toffee latte, sweeter than what he’s used to, but free of charge thanks to Seokmin who oozed desire for validation. He convinced himself that it was the caffeine making his heart twitch. “Hey.”
“Excited for winter break?”
“That’s…a word to describe it for someone.” He veers back to his laptop, pretending to work.
“What no plans again?” You pester with a playful smile, leisurely sipping.
Jihoon simply shrugs. “No.”
This was your favorite time of year and you believed everyone deserved to have a good time on this specific occasion. Every year, you spent it with family, presents, and dinner, just cherishing everything you had to be grateful for. It was contrary to Jihoon who had spent alone every year since college. His family was thousands of miles away from him and a ticket to reach them would've cost a leg and an arm. This was a lonely season for him.
“How about spending the holiday with me and my family this year?”
He pauses his movement to look up at you, your smile lets his infatuation for you fester like a disease, grinning cheek to cheek in that cute way it does which was indescribably delightful. He could feel his heart swell, the sweat on his forehead pour, and the unsettlement of his legs shake. It was only some time ago he came to terms with his feelings but the truth of the matter was he was never good with feelings. They were too intense for him to understand and he knew that only meant immense disappointment in the end. He wasn’t willing to take that chance.
“I think you should be with Wonwoo.” He returns back to his screen, typing the same word over and over again, “Good reason to check out the lights they put out in town.”
You scoff, your heart swelling for an entirely different reason. “Do you really mean that? You really rather I spend Christmas with Wonwoo than with you?”
There was this look in your eye and sternness in your tone. He had never heard something like that come out of you before, but he couldn’t help it. Self-sabotage came out naturally at this point. You being hurt was only momentarily, he reassures himself. He was doing the both of you a favor.
“Yeah. I think that’s the best use of your time.”
“…Fine.”
You pick yourself up to leave, tears brimming your eyes before finally walking towards the exit where the windchimes followed. The cold winter air hit you like a slap in the face, quickly drying the hot tears that came running down your cheeks.
This was it for you. You were done trying. For good this time.
Present day, Christmas Eve
When you insisted on helping him fix up his tree, you noticed how pretty looked under the Christmas fluorescent lights. He never realized that until now. Probably because he never had the chance.
Your attention to detail was admittedly admirable. He was glad that part of you hadn’t changed.
“I thought about this probably a thousand times, you know.”
“What?” Jihoon entertains.
You step down from the stepping stool to put it away after you gave the tree some finishing touches. Thank god for the popcorn in his pantry. “Spending Christmas with you. It was really hard to come here. And I'm not talking about several feet of snow I had to plow through to get here.”
“Why would you do that for me?”
You scoff, finding it ridiculous how easily he ignores the obvious. “I don’t know. Because you’re my friend. You deserve a nice Christmas. I like doing things out of the good of my heart. Like I was gonna leave you alone? Again?”
“What about you? Didn’t you have anyone to celebrate with?”
You roll your eyes. “Not the point.”
“Seems like the major point.” He retorts, almost sounding amused.
You sigh, walking towards him, “Yeah, everyone else canceled on me, but I’m glad that out of everyone you were available.”
“So I was last choice?”
You furrow your brows. “No, god, could you drop it? ”
“Just why spend Christmas here then?”
“Because I like you!” You shake your body furiously as you threw a tantrum, close to pulling your hair out from the roots. “God, knows why? You’re cold, mean, and distant. You couldn’t be more disinterested and it’s infuriating.”
“Why like me then?”
You body goes limp, clenching your fist helplessly, “I don’t know. Sometimes you were nice to me. It felt nice. And I hope that maybe…that meant something. Then you’d go ignore me like I did something wrong…I never had to work for it before.”
You felt your head spinning in circles. You were too old for this shit. You weakly falling to your knees, Jihoon quickly following to meet your level. “H-hey–”
“I thought if I approached you enough maybe you’d like me back. No matter how hard I tried, you wouldn’t do anything! God, was I naive and stupid. I should’ve never had co—“
Jihoon leans forward and kisses you square center on your lips, stealing your words and breath away. The pressure of his plush cushion makes your frustration dissipate; his hand takes the side of your head, stroking you tenderly. He parts from you when he feels your body calm down, looking back into your eyes glistening in the tears you didn’t realize you had shed.
“Maybe they worked…so your methods weren’t all terrible.”
You were the quiet one for once. His rare smile perks up his face, eyes filled with love and sincerity. You gaze at him as he hugs your cheek with his hands and wipes your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. He embraces your shaking body, soothing your back with the cool palm of his hand.
“...You’re such an asshole.”
“I know. I’m sorr—”
You tug on his sweater to reclaim him, melting into his sweet warmth, finally. You were over the moon. It only took you roughly five years. You finally had him where you wanted and now you were never willing to let him go. Five years all worth the wait.
Present day, New Year’s Eve
“Mmh, hmm…”
“Are you sure you’re getting this all down?”
“P-positive.”
Jihoon chuckles at your disposal. The vibrations of his soft laughter vibrate through your core and are quickly followed by the harsh stripe guided by his tongue. His arms underneath and around your thighs had your legs pressed against his cheeks, thumb teasing the shape of your clit before he’s pinching it as he engorges on your warmth. You hold the phone away from you briefly to whisper a ‘good god,’ and return to the conversation at hand.
“And you’re making sure Jihoon’s going. How did you manage that?”
“Oh,” you chuckle nervously, “just some, mmh, convincing.”
“Knew you could do it. He always did have a soft spot for you. Well, let me know what exactly you do also because I’ve been trying to get him to DJ my wedding all year—“
“Oh…right,” you bit your lips when you feel Jihoon’s tongue fuck inside you, tasting your insides and spreading you open.
His grunts were soft but coherent, exhibiting the satisfaction he was tasting inside you, sucking against your folds, dribbling his spit and your moisture all over his chin and neck. He can’t help but dig deeper, getting his nose in the action. He practically loses all his senses at this point, but he didn’t care; not that he couldn’t breathe, or how his heart pounded, or that you were on the phone with someone. You were worth the wait.
“Anyways, when are you coming?”
“Oh…soon…” You slur, hardly listening to a word.
Jihoon snickers.
“Great, because I know I said seven but since you’re bringing—“
Jihoon snatches the phone from you and puts the phone mic next to his swollen lips, “We’ll get there when we get there, Seungkwan.”
“Wait, Jihoon? You were with—wait are y’all l—YOU NAST—“
Jihoon hangs up before the younger man can finish, tossing the phone randomly somewhere on the bed, and is finally able to let you finish.
“B-baby…he definitely knows now…” you whine.
“Fuck, if I care. Just focus on me, hmm, you taste so fucking good.”
He brings your legs up to leverage you in the air. On his knees and your legs on either of his shoulders, he devours you ambitiously, fingers fucking your knuckles deep in until he feels you shake an earthquake. You shout his name without remorse, begging for more.
“I’m really about to cum, Jihoon. Please, can I?”
Your voice laced with honey, you look up at him with tears in your eyes, sweat beading down your forehead, Jihoon couldn't help but let you do whatever you want with him. “...In my mouth.”
He latched himself on you, tongue fucking your insides as he ran his fingers rampage along with it. Your hips twitch in his embrace until you're practically thrashing in bed, clutching pillows, throwing them aside, lacking almost all control of your limbs. When he comes back up to the surface for air, he’s wiping the mess on his face with the back of his hand.
“You’re a mess,” You laugh, heaving your chest.
“Speak for yourself.”
You snicker only to quickly be brought back to reality. “We do need to get those groceries though. Seungkwan needs them.”
He raises a brow at you, readjusting his legs to pin you by your wrist, that smile to first appear a few days ago not seeming to waver in the slightest. “Sounds like I haven’t tire you out enough.”
“Baby—“
“I have more work to do.”
Giggling, you feel him embracing your sweaty form beneath him, peppering kisses all over you neck and cheeks until the finally reach your lips, chasteful compared to the event just few moments ago. You smile against his kiss, “I guess we still have some time?”
He strokes your hair, kissing your forehead. “Of course, to make up for the times when we didn’t.”
#svthub.collab#svthub#woozi smut#seventeen smut#lee jihoon smut#seventeen woozi#woozi#lee jihoon#seventeen#seventeen jihoon#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x you#seventeen x reader#woozi x reader#woozi x you#woozi x y/n
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Congrats on reaching 500 followers!!! 🎉🎉🎉
Here’s my prompt: 10:03pm, Alex Claremont-Diaz in his bedroom. The vibes are ‘Just Fucking Let Me Love You’ by Lowen, any rating :-)
(Big fan btw (ao3: larsons) <3)
your prompt song is the latest in an installment of 'absolute life-ruiners i didn't know existed before this fest.' i need to make a fucking playlist or something. suffice it to say i'm now obsessed with this song. thank you for the opportunity to learn of it's existence! enjoy your ficlet, despite me handwaving at the canon time of day to suit my needs (we can just pretend the book doesn't mention it's morning, right?) 💜🦗
read the rest of the ficlets here
❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙
10:03pm, alex's bedroom
Dear Thisbee,
I wish there weren’t a wall.
Love, Pyramus
Inexplicably, the first thought Alex has after his frantic Google search is how lovely Henry’s handwriting is. It’s so smooth and flowy, each letter gracefully connected to the next, the same even spacing between each word, each line steady and straight despite the lack of lines on the scrap of paper. Alex could never, and frankly, it’s unfair—one more thing on the long list of things about Henry that are adorably infuriating—that the ghosting jackass doesn’t need lined paper to guide his hand.
Alex can’t stop tracing Henry’s note; his fingers trailing lightly over the curve of “D” and tapping the “L” reverently. Objectively, it feels like every other piece of printer paper that Alex has ever picked up, but some part of his brain is convinced that he’ll be able to dig up some faint trace of Henry in the pen’s indentations if he traces the letters just one more time.
Last week at the lake had been some of the best days of Alex’s life. And up until Henry had ducked below the water to avoid Alex’s confession, he’d been so sure they were on the same page. Henry had matched him email for email, text for text, late night call for late night call. Henry had reached out just as often as Alex over the last few months. They’d both flung their secrets and fears and dreams across the Atlantic; an electronic lifeboat, built line by line and quote by quote. The rare times they were alone together Alex could feel his brain slowing down, his stress melting away— Hell, he could almost see the connection they were building together, stretched tight like a bungee cord between their chests.
With his final note, his polite fucking thank you, Henry had set their lifeboat on fire—and Alex feels like he never learned to swim. He’s practically drowning in his own fucking love for Henry. It’s overwhelming, it’s all-encompassing. It feels like lightning beneath his skin, like one of those party favors that pop open and shoot streamers everywhere. It feels bigger than the Texas sky, deeper than the fucking ocean Henry put between them. It should be like helium, keeping him afloat during all the stress of the campaign and what the future holds for him. Instead, it feels like an anchor around his neck, pulling him into the depths.
It’s infuriating.
Alex clutches at the note again, the vague whisper of a plan swirling in the back of his mind. I wish there weren’t a wall. Who gave Henry the fucking right to say something like that to Alex of all people? The only wall between them is the one Henry laid the foundation for. The only wall is the one Henry’s trying to make as tall as possible by not responding to Alex. The only wall is the one Henry made by leaving in the first place. Alex straightens up, decision made. Henry wants a wall? Fine.
Alex can be fucking dynamite.
To $$$:
what are you doing for the next 24 hours?
#cricket writes#bbreaddog#ficlet fest 500#rwrb#pre storming of kensington#for real i'm now obsessed with this song#the way the scream-singing starts in the second chorus???#chef's kiss
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Precious Possessions 10: Every Rule
Pairing: Dave York X F! Reader (Original Female Character)
Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞
Previous | Next | Masterlist
Word count: 7401
Summary: Firefly takes some time for clarity and understanding about everything and everyone, including the role she plays in Dave's life and the one he plays in hers.
Warning: This chapter is incredibly PLOT heavy...and while it absolutely 100% includes Dave, is very focused on reader and her feelings for and about him. Angst. Religious symbolism. Angst. Violence. Angst. PiV sex - wrap it up lovahs, riding, mild restraints, creampie. Angst. Once again please DNI if you are not 18 and over. Also not beta'd, so all errors are my own. Please be kind.
A/N: Thanks to all my babes who encourage me to continue writing even though it can be fucking hard and so personal especially when you put your heart and soul into each character. Also, if you are familiar with the Equalizer trilogy then you will know and understand some of this.
@youandmeand5bucks @pink-whiskey-woman @redhotkitchen @arcanefox207 @legendary-pink-dot @sparklefarts38 @morallyinept @secretelephanttattoo
Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @sheepdogchick3 @casa-boiardi @missladym1981 @untamedheart81 @drewharrisonwriter @guelyury
“Lying on top of you is one thing, but getting close to you is another. I feel close to you, one with you, you’re mine whether it is acknowledged or not.”—Henry Miller
In the morning you awoke with a start, reaching for an alarm clock that didn’t sound, for a body that wasn’t there. Morning light whispered through the paper-thin curtains, shining on the bare stone wall. Working together with the gentle breeze from outside, a slow sense of calm began to hold you. Seabirds and salt air surrounded you as you opened a window—a wooden shutter with three slats crooked, broken, and beautiful, the only barrier to a rectangle shaped hole in the stone.
Slow and easy, sometimes boring—those were your mornings since you had arrived. You stumbled through the first few days like an infant taking its first steps. No electronics, no real connection to the outside world, relying on shuffling through pages of a pocket-sized English to Italian dictionary to navigate your way through the occasional brief conversations you had with the Altamonte locals as you gathered your bearings.
The constant overthinking presented an obstacle to overcome. By your eighth day there, the simplicity of life wouldn’t allow it. Neighbors shouted morning greetings through open and bright green shutters as you dressed. A t-shirt, white and crisp, a pair of well-loved jeans, and a black leather jacket finished with a pair of white sneakers. A uniform or sorts, you thought, as you descended the stairs from your apartment. A passerby could have been a mirror image of you just by clothing alone. Was this what people meant by “dressing like a local”?
At a nearby café, your ability to blend in was tested as you found your place in a sea of color neutrality, sitting at the lone empty table near the front door. A youthful and friendly server who looked to be no older than 17 approached you, her raven curls atop her head bounced when she stopped. Not a line tempered her smooth, dark olive skin as she flipped open her notepad with a smile.
“Cosa desidera Lei?”
“Un caffe per fevore,” you replied, with the young server nodding in acknowledgement at your order.
From your purse you grabbed a journal of worn, brown leather. Its corners curled upward from opening and closing it frequentlly The pages lay ruffled and beaten with the gift of constant use. Your fingers also grasped a pen lost in the depths of your bag that met you like an old friend that had come to save you in your time of need. The ink flowed from your pen to the paper as you wrote about the salt air, the distant cawing of seagulls skimming the shore, and the mist of calm that seemed to settle over every corner of the town.
You turned your head to look through the clean windows into the cafe to observe the locals—individuals, couples, families. The images of them gleamed like reflections on a stream. In the window, you imagined Dave next to you—a mirage, a specter haunting and present no matter how hard you tried to push it away. In the back of your head, you asked yourself: Do I really want to?
“Buongiorno!” a voice rich and deep in time and timber reached out to you.
A newly familiar face greeted you. His hands, like his voice, showed evidence of assuredness through lines of time and wisdom that were beginning to settle on the backs of his hands. The smile lines on his face were set dark and deep into his face, indisputable evidence of living.
“Buongiorno, Dottore!” you exclaimed, standing up to take his hands and give him a kiss on each cheek.
“Everyday, at the same time, I see you here,” the rich melody of his voice and the kind smile he gave you managed to whisk away the chill that coursed through your blood, if only for a moment.
“Well, the calm is a nice…change,” you mused and paused for a moment, contemplating if you really believed your own words.
Enzo settled down in the chair next to you, the smile beneath his mustache was warm and fatherly. As he sat next to you, the young server returned carrying two small cups of coffee for both you and Enzo. You observed closely as Aminita, as Enzo lovingly called her, greeted him with greater familiarity than you had combined with an even greater respect. He spoke to her with the kindness of a doting grandfather. Bits and pieces of their melodic words met your ears, the depths of your brain manipulating them until you worked out their meaning in English.
“So, what have you seen since you have been here?” Enzo inquired as he settled into a chair next to you.
“Oh, it’s only been a few days, but,” you sighed with a dramatic pause, “just having the ocean right here has been more than enough.”
Enzo smiled back at you and his eyes glimmered with excitement and wonder. It was the kind of gleam that you had only seen among young children and the old. Pressing his hands together he stood up and waved at you in a gesture for you to finish your coffee. You sipped as quickly as you could, your coffee just on the right side of warm---the cozy kind of warmth that wrapped you in an invisible hug on a cold day.
“Andiamo,” he urged you as you swallowed the last of it. “Come on, I’ll show you the real Altomonte.”
“Ok, ok!” you replied, conceding to him.
Uncomfortably, you chugged the last bit of coffee with an audible hiss before you stood up. You took quick steps over the cobblestone streets as you followed Enzo. His gait was quick and determined for a 60-year-old. A smile curled at the corners of your lips as you watched him skip ahead of you with more excitement than a tour guide being paid to show you the village.
He walked you through one of the many archways of the town, this one longer than others. The path was just wide enough to allow for the regular flow of movement brought to life by the villagers. What greeted you through the arch was more life than you had expected, not dark and dank as you had presumed. Nestled along the stone walls were market vendors selling homemade wears of rosaries, crucifixes made of wood from olive trees, and hand-embroidered scarves delicately adorned with intricate, swirling designs. You could feel your mouth drop open in awe as you caressed your fingers along a deep blue scarf with two white lilies embroidered at each corner. You were certain that the elderly woman who made this was grossly underestimating the time and talent it took her to fashion such a unique and beautiful item. A small, rectangular piece of paper lay on top of the scarf and written in ballpoint pen was the price of a mere 50 euros.
“Beautiful, yes?” Enzo remarked with a smile.
His eyebrows were raised as he looked back at you. Reaching into your purse you pulled out your beige, leather pocketbook to procure a one hundred euro note. It called to you, that foreign feeling that you so rarely experienced of reaching for something that you just knew you had to have. It had only happened once before.
Your hand trembled slightly as you handed the woman the euro note, a sign of the thoughts of Dave that took hold of you. As the woman took it, the wrinkles around her smoothed from her wide-open eyes. The look of shock overcame her as she examined the note. She waved at you, her tone an odd mixture of gratitude and scolding that could come only from a strong Italian woman.
“Ti prego di prenderlo,” you insisted in as humble a tone as you could. “E magnifica.”
You watched in earnest as Enzo spoke to the woman, conceding to her and talking her down until she stared back at you with a satisfied glimmer in her eye while handing you the scarf. Immediately, you tied it loosely around your shoulders while following Enzo’s lead ahead of you. As you sauntered through the cobble stoned streets, Enzo pointed out the fish market. The owner, Angelo, waved at you alongside his wife and son as they proudly arranged fresh fish on piles of ice—waiting for villagers to snatch them up for their evening meal.
The sunlight greeted you on the other end of the archway, where ancient stone walls guarded each side and where Enzo stood at the foot of a steep set of stairs. He turned around to you and gestured towards the steps with excitement surging through his fingertips.
“Have you gone up to visit the church?“
Your gaze followed Enzo’s upward to a church set into the mountains, that stood proud with its pristine ivory in color that was brighter against the lush, green foliage of the mountainside. A hint of premature frustration crept beneath your skin as you mentally took in the slope of the stairs. You were in good shape, you had to be. Yet your legs automatically ached with a phantom pain that you knew would come from traversing the steep climb to the church.
Enzo gestured for you to come over, picking up one foot after another over narrow and steep stairs. The waves of the Mediterranean crashed over the walls guarding the village. The fresh salt air traveled with the breeze until it began to dance in your hair.
“Climb these steps every day and you’ll be young the rest of your life,” he teased, “That is my doctor’s order for you.”
Something between a laugh and a gasp escaped you before he gestured for you to catch up. When you finally did, your eyes settled on the weathered rock as the air caressed your hair and your lungs filled with deep, cooling breath that led to a wistful sigh.
“Come on, old man!” You took the chance to take a break from your jog to rib your dark-haired companion as he fought to catch his breath standing amidst a steep, but beautiful set of stairs.
You rocked your hips back and forth as you kept your feet bouncing from side-to-side in a stationary jog. He looked up at you, gathering his hands at his hips as sweat began to gather at the center of his charcoal-colored t-shirt, clinging to his lean, but broad-shouldered form. Not one speck of amusement found itself on his face as he glared at you. The steadiness of his stare caused you to slow your jog to merely stepping your feet beneath you. When a smile finally slid over the surface of his pouty lips, his eyes bore into you, heavy, dark, and tempting --- the look of the devil you always wanted to know.
“I’ll be generous,” you recalled him saying, his words dripping like the sweetest nectar from the most forbidden flower, “and give you a head start.”
“Just like you to assume I need one,” you challenged as you stood above him, placing your hands on your hips.
He readied himself a few steps below you, a determined glint in his brown eyes that sent a chill scurrying up and down your spine. Simultaneously, it sent a warm, throbbing sensation at your center as he looked you up and down. He doubled down on his threat, setting himself in a starting stance to race up the stairs. You followed suit, turning your back away from him, trying to keep your focus ahead of you. His very presence behind you already threatened to consume you and though he was steps below you, you swore you could feel the heat of his exhales rippling on the back of your neck.
And with no warning, he spoke, “Run.”
The memory of you leaping up the stairs traveled through your feet as you slowly made your way up the steep stairs leading to the church. It was silly really—the present was just a moving dichotomy of your memory.
You didn’t dare look behind you. Doing so would have meant certain defeat. An feeling of nervousness mixed with intrigue filled you as you ran, ran, ran as fast as you could. The sense of him gaining on you heightened through every pore. Your feet pounded on the steps and your arms swung tightly with each quick stride. Quick breaths rattled from your lips as you focused your eyes to the top of the majestic stairs. Cockiness lined your lips into a premature victory smile, when you suddenly felt a pair of hands grab at your hips, forcing you to slow down to a rhythm that matched his body. You felt the heat of his warm fingers wrapped around your elbow as he pulled you into a dark, concealed alley. Breathing even harder than when you were running, Dave pressed you against the wall, his hips rolling against yours.
His face was so close that you could smell the clean, yet intoxicating sweat that collected upon his skin that had been made golden with Sicilian sun. Each breath he drew was quick and in time with yours. A quick gasp escaped you as you felt his warm hand lower to skim the waist of your leggings, his thick fingers. A shiver circulated through your body as he toyed with the elastic band.
“When are you going to learn, Firefly?” he growled into your ear, his lips brushing at your neck and earlobe. “I’m always going to catch you.”
***
“Bella! Bella!”
Enzo’s voice sounded through the cloud of your memory. Without even really being cognizant of it, you had made it to the top of the ancient stairs. The breeze blew stronger at this height, whipping your hair across your face. As you brushed your waves back, your eyes beheld how the wind danced on the rich, blue water and how it made ripples that shimmered with the golden sun.
“You see, all this makes Altamonte,” he gestured to the church, the statues, and the paintings of the woman.
You stared at the wonder and pride in his eyes. Somehow, you knew he meant more than just this place. If he could, he would just stretch his arms from here to the ocean. From his voice that trembled with pride and from the gleam that shined in his eyes, you knew. Only an act of God could wash it away.
“Come in child,” he said, as he gestured you over to the door of the church.
“Oh no, I’m not religious,” you said as your shoulders shrunk from the discomfort of the words.
You didn’t need proselytizing.
“You think she cares?” Enzo asked, already halfway through the threshold of the church. “But you choose.”
Humoring him, you stepped inside. An unexpected shiver oscillated, tapped, and pricked over your body. Goosebumps arose beneath your sweater. The cold that lived in the walls easily could have trapped you, threatening to take away whatever life you felt beneath your skin. Instead, it invigorated you as they made union with the warm colors of the sun that painted the walls of church like they were her own, personal canvas. You peeked through the windows that let that light in. Each had a perfect view of the village. The beauty had you holding your breath as you marveled at how the stone buildings gathered together and overlooked the bluest water you’d ever seen.
When you finally let yourself breathe again, you found a seat next to Enzo. He knelt in reverence, his eyes closed and hands clasped together. The flicker of several candles set the room aglow, his flame burning brightly among the many.
You, on the other hand, sat with quiet patience. It was more like a museum to you. Your eyes settled over the statues and paintings that adorned the church. So much adoration for a woman filled in a church that was ostensibly governed by men.
Maybe they had it wrong, you thought. Maybe the church was meant to be built upon the shoulders of a matriarch who chose her path of raising a leader, instead of a girl who was bestowed the gift of raising a savior. The way these thoughts meandered through your mind was nearly enough to make you laugh. Sometimes you shouldn’t be left to your own thoughts.
Enzo settled back into pew in the empty space next to you. A deep sigh escaped him as he turned his head to you. His eyes softened in concern. A slight discomfort pressed onto your shoulders as you navigated your response to the kindness.
“People always come and rest here, some pray, some meditate until they find an answer,” Enzo said, his voice imbued with the notes of great wisdom. “Even me.”
You nodded in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue.
“And you, too, correct?” He asked.
He didn’t even entertain you with the space or time to answer, not that you had one to give him. Not one that was truthful by any means. Instead, you nodded and waited for whatever wisdom he was ready to give you.
“I don’t judge,” he stated with a look so deep with thought and an undercurrent of pain that you knew his words were true, “Nothing good comes from it.”
He sighed again. The weight of whatever memory he was holding was heavy on his shoulders. The tired lines around his eyes seemed to grow in real time, a remnant of the pain that remained.
“I’m not trying to…ehm…intrude in your personal business,” he paused to find the words, “but are you really here for rest, to find peace, as you say? Or…are you running from something?”
And there it was: the truth. It had never left. In that moment you could have felt anger, maybe something bordering on hatred for someone cornering the truth out of you. But you didn’t, not this time. You met the doctor’s gaze with the same hesitancy of a child who was hiding something from a parent. Without words, he knew the answer but bore no judgment against you. Instead, he patted you reassuringly on the hand as you took in the warmth of the flickering flames at the altar.
The sky was a bolder blue against the midday sun as you took your sojourn back to the main square. It seemed impossible that you’d spent as much time in the church as you had. Enzo held onto your arm lightly as you climbed down the steep stairs. A steady stream of pedestrians began to fill the cobblestone streets as you ambled through corridors from which you came. As you walked through the town, the warm and smiling faces of the locals continued to greet you even as Enzo departed from you to continue with his day.
The remainder of your day moved in an ethereal mixture of fast and slow. From the time you made it back into town you were able to stroll along the seashore, allowing yourself to bathe in the wind as you dug your toes in the sand to buying bread from the local bakery and enjoying it with a cup of tea you watched the sky melt into shades of coral, purple, and then blue as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.
As a deeper blue settled in the sky, the evening sounds of Altamonte whispered in a different way than the sounds of the morning. The vibrations were buzzed with an energy that was somehow enlivening but calming at the same time. It should have called you to join everyone. Instead, you let the sounds energize through the open window of your apartment. And you waited as the locals left the restaurants, drunkenly and lovingly alive. The whispers of the night called you as they always had, as they always would. While the citizens of Altamonte were beginning to turn in for the night, you dressed yourself and immersed yourself in the comfort of the late night.
You approached a restaurant a few blocks from your apartment. A low, heavy feeling struck you in your stomach. Something pulled at your shoulders, tight and aggressive until it pressed and pulled at the skin of your throat. The invisible intensity threatened you with an unsettling and ominous aggression. You tensed into defensive mode as you moved closer and closer to the scene. Loud clatters of silverware and the dragging of chairs against the cobblestone streets set you into a stance that you only ever needed when a job with Dave and the team called for it.
You dashed with light steps across the cobblestone to gain a better vantage point of the situation. Despite yourself, you heard Dave’s voice in your head as though he was walking you through a training exercise.
“Your brain is your best asset. Read, know, and breathe the situation and you have the upper hand.”
You slinked closer as your eyes focused on the situation before you. The threat: two men. His frame was wiry. He couldn’t have been more than 5’9” you surmised. His dark, wavy hair was slicked back, and the ends curled just past his ears. What he lacked in stature he made up for with menace. His stare was wide and manic as he loitered among the tables strutting forward towards a beautiful, young waitress who’d been cleaning the tables outside. The thin man’s counterpart was noticeably taller and more physically imposing. He stood with an unwavering posture, his wide shoulders. He had a closely cropped haircut, and a brow that dipped down into a deep frown that seemed permanently affixed to his face.
Fear darkened the face of a young woman’s face as the thin man continued to advance on her, trapping her among tables and into a corner. The owner, her father, stood in the doorway, his feet ready to stomp forward and rescue his daughter. A few strands of her hair fell over her face as she gestured to him to stay inside the restaurant. Two heavy and threatening hands belonging to the burly crony pushed her father back impeding any heroic action he might attempt. The thumping of your heartbeat was fast and loud in the silence of the night, fast enough and loud enough for you to take a deep breath with the hopes of calming it.
“Collateral damage is always messy and always a liability. Blend in: the less remarkable you are, the less of a target you become.”
With Dave’s instruction resonating in your head, you closed in on the restaurant picking up your pace to a light jog. The thin goon continued to advance upon the young woman as her father struggled against the tall man’s hold, keeping their attention from you. It was as though panic traversed through her body the closer you came. The fear that seemed to hide behind her eyes thumped toward you, pumping you with adrenaline and readiness. He held her hostage with a lascivious scowl as he pushed a strand of hair from her face. His hands grabbed the back of her neck, each finger white with violence as he dragged her forward, her skin already red with pain beneath his vice grip. Both men, so arrogant against the struggle of their captives, paid you no attention.
“Let them underestimate you, then you can always find a way to get the upper hand.”
All at once a scream from the waitress, yells, and grunts from her father as he struggled, rose in the air as you lunged towards the thin man forcing his grip from the young woman. Adrenaline pumped through every one of your veins as you pulled his thumb backwards and shoved him back with concentrated strength as you simultaneously pulled the gun that he so arrogantly placed in the waistline of his pants. Losing his footing, he stumbled backwards to the ground. You stood protectively in front of the girl as his brutish sidekick attempted to lunge toward you.
The man raised his eyebrows for a moment and lifted the corner of his lips into a disgusting smirk. He was big and monstrous. You analyzed how each movement was stifled by how grotesquely bulbous his muscles were. Your foot was already hooked to the leg of one of the metal chairs closest to you. In the second he lunged in your directions, you lifted and ejected the chair at his solar plexus. With an additional, forceful stomp of your foot to his chest that knocked him to the ground.
In the time it had taken you to knock them to the ground, the waitress and her father had escaped inside, and the sound of a police horn approached quickly. You looked down on the two men and brushed a few wayward strands of hair from your face. Adrenaline rushed from your veins to the tips of your fingers.
The two men stood up, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles of their expensive Italian suits. The thin man glared at you with his hand placed protectively at his chest. It burned still from the pain you inflicted upon him.
“I think that’s your signal to leave,” you stated with a voice as steadfast as your stance. You kept your hands tightly on his firearm.
With one more snarl, the men disappeared into the night. The motor of their car rumbled off, growing quieter the further they drove into the night. It was silent and more of Dave’s words surrounded you.
“Never call attention to yourself, but if you have no choice, you need a plan to leave fast.”
The young waitress and her family looked at you, their eyes gleaming with grateful tears. The only thing you felt you could give was a nod. Receiving gratitude, handshakes, and hugs weren’t anything you were prepared or willing to receive. You just weren’t built for it.
You rushed away using shadows and looking over your shoulder anytime you found yourself in the light. When you arrived back at your apartment, you set your already neatly folded clothes inside your suitcase. It was another trick Dave had taught you.
Cellphone. Passport. Wallet. Keys.
With all of them accounted for, it was time to go. You stared at the gun that you had taken from the thin man. You tried to sift through your options of discarding the weapon, when slow, quiet knocks tapped at your door. In an instant you were pressing your back to the wall, sliding along as you made your way towards the door with the thug’s weapon in your hand. It wasn’t in your itinerary to take care of two gangsters on your vacation.
One, two, three deep breaths.
The knocks became quicker and more urgent. You listened closely for any noises that would alert you to the kind of weapons they had. Just as you reached to open the door you heard a familiar voice through the door.
“Child, it’s me: the dottore!”
You wanted to let out a huge sigh of relief, but your heightened vigilance had settled over your neck and shoulders holding you in a position that disallowed it.
“Enzo,” you finally called out after much deliberation, “are you alone?”
With immediacy, he replied, “Yes!”
His voice was as steady and confident as a surgeon who was moments away from performing life-saving surgery. You analyzed it, homing in on its lack of fluctuations, listening for any indication that someone else might be standing next to him waiting for you. You drew one more breath and opened the door. Seeing Enzo standing on the other side alone allowed you to let go of the breath you held in your chest. He rushed past you, closing the door behind him.
“What are you doing here?” You asked through gritted teeth.
“I heard what happened.”
“How did you--,” you began to ask.
“I know everything in this town,” he stated plainly, as he looked you directly in the eyes. “Where is the weapon?”
You felt your brow immediately furrow at his request. This was the kind of situation Dave urged you not to find yourself in. Trusting people, feeling for people, even giving a little bit of yourself to anyone would be a folly in your line of work. One that would certainly get you killed.
“No, not happening Enzo,” you insisted as you shook your head. “I cannot get you involved.”
“I think it’s too late for that.”
You stared back at him, feeling a pressure of disbelief and gratitude as he held his hand towards you with a dish rag that he had pulled from a kitchen drawer. You pressed your lips tightly together and a painful sting of tears began to form at the corners of your eyes. Enzo reached his hand out to you again.
“Are you a good person or a bad person?”
An unfamiliar feeling of confusion, guilt, and sadness came over you. One that had you re-evaluating nearly everything.
You replied to Enzo tearfully, “I don’t know.”
He stepped forward and offered you his fatherly stare. The one you felt was so undeserved.
“Only a good person would say that.”
It was at that moment, you wondered, maybe, if Dave had it all wrong.
You looked back at Enzo with a look that you hoped conveyed your gratitude. There were no words that existed that held enough magnitude to describe it. You grabbed your things quickly, looking at him once more before you walked out the door. He gave your arm a reassuring squeeze and you pulled him in for a hug. You held him tight, your hands nearly squeezing to the point where neither of you could breathe, shaking as you let him go.
“Non dimenticare mai chi sei, cocca,” he said followed by a kiss to your forehead that instantly made you feel like you were truly cared for.
And with one last look, you disappeared into the night. The cool air met you and the sound of ocean waves ascended to your ears. Each smell and sound engulfing you and holding you in what you wished was a long goodbye. The bittersweetness of your tears met the corner of your lips. Yet somehow, each event, each choice, and each movement you made reminded you that all of this was just as it was supposed to be.
***************************
The last 24 hours blasted by you like a bullet train. Everything around you moved in a blur while your body somehow moved at a pace slower than everything around you. You moved through each moment with an exhausted automaticity: getting off the plane, getting a taxi , and finding your way home.
With caution still at its peak, you entered your home. You checked every room and every closet two times until you felt certain that no one had followed you from Italy. You held your phone in your hand staring at the black screen, contemplating if you should even turn it back on. With a long sigh you pushed the buttons at the side of your phone, setting it quickly aside on your nightstand before running to the bathroom to avoid any notification like they were a plague.
You stepped into your spacious shower, jumping a little as cold water met your skin before gradually raining on your body with much needed warmth. You stepped out of the shower, drying off before wrapping yourself with your towel. You shook your hair with your fingers until your wet waves rested at your shoulder. A notification appeared on your phone connected to your security system.
Filling your lungs with a deep and steady breath you walked towards your kitchen to pour yourself a drink of water. Standing in silence, leaning against your kitchen counter, stood Dave. His eyes stayed only on you with his hands crossed over his chest. He was wearing his best poker face: no anger, no fear, no hate…but for a moment you spotted it: an inkling of relief, a hint of regret, a glint of—? No you wouldn’t let yourself welcome the thought.
You brushed past him, pouring yourself some water. You looked up at him, no words leaving either of your lips. The water was cold, refreshing, and awakening on your lips. As you walked past him back to your you could practically feel him seething. Coming at you like heat waves but bouncing off you as you kept your cool.
Staring back at him from the end of the hallway just outside your bedroom you called to him.
“Are you coming to bed or not?”
You swore you heard a sigh of exasperation escape him as he crept towards you with his hands on his hips — the way he always did when he was particularly frustrated. Satisfied by his inescapable allure towards you, you turned away from him, confident in the knowledge that he would follow you.
“I’ve got to hand it to you,” Dave spoke as he perused your hair, your eyes, your face, your skin, “I’m impressed you were able to be off the grid for as long as you did.”
“I don’t think that matters much now,” you declare looking up at him as he moved towards you. “I’m back.”
Dave took his hands to caress your face, his grip against your skin pressed with the perfect amount of firmness. A faint shine of gratitude emanated from his eyes. He would never say it, but you could see it. You could feel it from the touch of his hands and by the warmth emanating from his body—he missed you.
It was enough. You pulled one hand from your face bringing it down to where your towel wrapped around your body in a tight tuck. With firm guidance you made him pull the towel off your body letting it tumble to the floor. His eyes darkened and he shook his head with a smirk near disbelief as he admired your body.
“Fuck, you’re fucking beautiful as ever.” He groaned as he grabbed at the front of his pants.
Nearly a month without him, not one text or phone call…by your own design. Forgetting him wasn’t the answer. Understanding yourself in your entirety always led back to the same conclusion: you were his.
Not able to wait a moment more, you grabbed him by his dark sweatshirt pulling it over his head and tossing it away. You didn’t think you’d taken a pair of pants off a man faster in your life. His breaths came heavy and fast as you pulled him towards you, admiring his naked body as he did yours.
And then you kissed him.
After so long without him, the fire that sparked from touching him burned hotter than ever. You pulled his body to yours so tightly that your breasts pressed onto his chest, feeling each desperate breath that rose and fell over him. Somehow your arms found their way around his broad shoulders while he wrapped his around you, his hands grabbing your ass massaging up your back, until his fingers are threading themselves in your hair.
Your kisses were an exploration of renewal, of remembrance of how each other tasted while also, somehow, feeling brand new. His tongue had never been so needy before. The gruff moans that released from his mouth were so different and more unbidden than you’d remembered. And his cock, his lovely, thick, uncut cock, was so hard against your lower belly. The tip already cried for you with precum.
With one swift movement you spun around and shoved him to the bed. His eyes widened with devilish excitement as he spread his limbs across the expanse of your bed. His cock stood at attention for you, ready to comply with your every demand.
You crawled towards him, like a black cat slinking in the dark. The smell of him was so musky, salty, and clean as you lowered your face and then your mouth to the tip of his manhood. Holding the warmth of him again felt like a gift as he throbbed in your hands. The taste was even better as you took in the precum onto your lips and then your tongue, each taste bud lighting you up with desire.
He moaned, his hand hitting your pillow with a thump as your mouth and tongue continued to worship him.
“Oh shit, fuck!” He growled as he gripped your sheets.
Not even close to satisfied you lifted your face from your handiwork, tucking your hair behind your ear. You glided forward over his body, giving him another kiss before straddling him, only letting him feel the outer lips of your wet cunt. He reached his hips upward for you.
“Tsk, ah ah ah,” you crooned, teasing him with another grind of your hips, “not til you beg for it.”
“Fuck, Firefly, fuck—!”
You moved your hips again.
Dave couldn’t stop the moans that came from his beautiful lips. So beautiful, you traced your thumb over them.
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?”
You grew wetter with each teasing press of your hips.
An unintelligible and wanton groan came from him.
You tugged him by the hair, his eyes staying on yours and his brows angled downward in a combination of anger, frustration, and desire unique to him.
“Tell me, daddy.”
“Fuck, s—so fucking sexy,” he groaned. “Fuck I’ve missed this, your fucking body, my pussy.”
It was all you needed to hear.
You lifted your hips and braced your hand on his chest before you slowly began to sink over his cock. You bit your lower lip as you felt each thick inch of him enter you until he was so deep you could go no further. Pressing your hands onto his soft belly you began to move. Just that nearly sent him over the edge.
“Fuck, Firefly, how are you even better than I remember?“ Dave praised, as he gripped your thighs with his hands.
You rolled your hips slowly against his, adjusting to his thick size in your tight pussy. A shuddering breath left your quivering lips. With each bounce and roll of yourself on his massive member turned your breaths into loud and melodic moans. Not wanting to lose yourself just yet, you pressed your lips tighter together the more rhythmic your pace became. His cock throbbed within you, feeling impossible deeper with each move you made.
“Ah, my god!” You whined, unable to keep silent as Dave suddenly thrust his hips upwards to match your moves. “God, your cock is so good.”
Dave could only muster a gruff moan before interlacing his fingers between yours. You could feel his breath becoming more erratic with each move of your tight cunt over his cock. His hands began to squeeze yours tighter and tighter as your pussy squeezed him.
With a quick forward movement of your hips, his hard member popped out from inside you.
“Ahh, fuck!” He moaned as he gritted his teeth in frustration at the loss of your wet center around him.
You climbed off Dave and reached over to your nightstand, pulling a rope from the drawer. You straddled his waist while fashioning a strong knot around his wrists, tying him to your bed frame. He looked up at you, hazy and hungry to feel his cock sheathed in the tightest walls of your pussy. A smirk unfurled itself on his lips as you rocked yourself along his shaft, anointing him with your nectar.
“How does it make you feel,” Dave spoke, the sound coming from the deepest part of his throat, “thinking you have some kind of control?”
The words stopped your gyrations and brought your face an inch from his. You could feel your breath circling his lips, close enough that you could see them quiver. With a strong squeeze of your right hand to his face you licked from his chin to just above his lips before kissing him. Your tongue parted his lips with a firm swipe, leading his tongue into a dance he had no choice but to follow. The way your bed frame rattled as you looked down upon him told you more than any words from him could say.
“So you’re telling me this,” you squeezed and rubbed his cock with the tightest fist you could make around him, “is the gift I get after being gone for so long?”
You slinked your hips back down, teasing his cock with your opening. With the most sultry intent, you stoked his primal want for you, not settling onto him right away. The way he continued to fight against the taut rope around his wrists sent chills that emanated from your center. He’d never say it, but you certainly knew everything he fought against confessing.
Generosity began to sneak over you and you allowed him to fill you as you lowered onto him, inch by throbbing inch. And as though your life, your everything, depended on it, you took him for a ride. Consuming, savoring, and indulging in every delicious, warm, and pulsing inch. You brought him to the edge of ecstasy only to bring him back. Your bodies devolved into a beautiful mess of sweat and desire.
Until it was time. Neither of you could hold back. You clutched the headboard as your hips bounced vigorously on his cock. You looked into his eyes and he into yours until you both came with a hot, violent shaking of your body and an uncontrollable thrust from his hips up to yours. Together you filled the walls of your bedroom with a duet of rapturous groans and sobs of euphoria.
Still holding him inside you, you graciously removed the bindings from his wrist. With urgency, he circled his hands around your waist until they gave your ass one more squeeze. The warmth of his hands traveled up your back and worked through more of your waves before they pulled you in for a kiss. Simultaneously hot and chilly aftershocks of your orgasm trembled through your body before you lifted yourself off him.
“Goddamn,” he sighed, his voice cracking as you collapsed on top of him.
Minutes passed like hours as you breathed in time with one another. In the silence, you listened closely to each other's sounds. The unexpected feeling of his hand beginning to your hair startled you. He stopped for a moment surprised by your reaction, slowing the movement of his hand, wrapping his arm around you to caress your shoulder with an embrace. He slowed the racing of your heart with more slow breaths and a barely audible hush from his lips. You could feel the intentional slow rise and fall of his chest against your back, your eyes growing heavy until both of you fell into the arms of a deep sleep.
Late into the night, you stirred with one arm tucked close to you and the other draped lightly over Dave’s. The hum of your ceiling fan drummed peacefully in your ears as your eyes fluttered lightly looking at his form lying next to you. You almost surrendered yourself back to sleep when a sudden thrashing motion shook you awake.
You propped yourself up and saw Dave tossing next to you, sweat beading at his forehead. His voice started with quiet mumbles, groans, and bellows that shook with anger and fear. You reached over to him, gently caressing his forehead.
“Dave…Dave?” You started gently.
He continued to writhe as his brow furrowed and wrinkled his forehead.
“S--, no, S-- Sa---,” he called out, still trapped in his nightmare.
“Dave, it’s me!” You said more firmly wrapping his face with your hands. “I’m here. I’m here.”
He awoke, startled as he looked at you with wild eyes. He pressed his lips to yours, wetting your mouth with a soft warm touch of his tongue, before turning your back to his chest and wrapping you in his arms. He thread his fingers between yours, kissing your shoulders. He murmured words you were almost certain he was unaware of before drifting back to sleep. A demand? A request? A plea?
“Stay,” his voice breathed through the silence as he gripped you tighter against his warm body, “just stay.”
#juice collective#friends of the juice collective#dave york#equalizer 2#dave york apologist#dave york x f!reader#dave york smut#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal characters
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Light Yagami || Tutor
Degrading !!
1437 word count
smut level: 9/10
Light Yagami sat at home, studying and planning the new world."Wanna come over?" he asked me over face time. He was tutoring me, but I just wasn't getting it. "I'm sure it will be easier in person..."
I agreed. I arrived at his house in less than half an hour. When I saw he was home alone, my heart thumped anxiously.
"Come in, " he greeted me. I noticed he was still wearing his white school button up and tie, but some buttons were undone so that you could see his collar bone. He led me to his room and I couldn't help admiring his slim, toned back.
"Alright," he said as he shut the door, "you can take a seat at my desk."
I pulled my school books out and got situated. I felt his strong presence behind me and smelled his minty cologne. I shivered when I felt his breath upon my ear.
"Oh, I'm sorry, is it too cold?" Light chuckled, knowing that wasn't the case.
I cleared my throat and flipped to my desired page. "We left off on this page, right?"
"Yes," he said. I began working out the problem, but I got stuck on the 2nd formula. I heard a sigh in response when I asked about it.
He explained to me. I turned to face him as he talked and noticed his strong jawline and slightly teased, long hair. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly.
"Got it?" no, I was distracted by your hotness.
"I think so," I lied. When I tried to work on it, though, he saw I was struggling.
"Let me help," he whispered. His hands grazed over mine as he took my pencil and began working out the problem. His defined hands wrote quickly and in no time was he done.
He dropped the pencil and I looked up at him in awe."See? That easy."
I blushed as his dark eyes met mine. "You can't be that dumb, can you?"
I was taken aback by his words. He spun my chair around to face him, and kneeled.
"W-what?" I asked.
"I have an idea," he said, reaching up to twirl a strand of my hair.
"How about for every question you get wrong, you take a piece of clothing off?"
My cheeks burned a bright red. "We- That's not what we're supposed to be doing, "
"Shy, huh? That's okay; I'll help you out." He grabbed the paper I was working on and clicked his tongue.
"Looks like your shirt has to go. Here, I'll even do the same."
My eyes widened as his hands creeped towards my chest. "Don't tell me you don't want it..?" He pulled off his tie and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. A thin, toned chest was revealed. Just as his hand met the collar of my blouse, it was retracted.
"N-no... I want it."
I grabbed his hand and held it to my breast. He lifted my chin to meet his eyes and laughed. "You're pathetic." His lips met mine and they tugged back and forth, like chewing the same piece of bubblegum. His hand held my jaw, guiding it as our lips danced in lust. This kiss got hotter and deeper, and warm sensations spread through both of our bodies.
I was kissing Light Yagami. Oh my God... I was kissing the hottest boy in school.
He pulled away, a thin rope of saliva still attaching us. His skilled hands quickly unbuttoned my shirt. I pulled it off as he pressed his lips against mine once more.
Light pulled me onto his lap and backed up onto the bed. I postitioned myself on his lap, grinding as I twisted my hands through his dark hair. He ran his fingers up my sides, igniting shivers throughout my body. Light pulled me closer, hugging my waist, and kissing harder. I rolled my hips over his groin, feeling the bulge grow larger underneath me despite fabric separating us. He sighed and grabbed my hair, pulling our lips apart.
"If you're so hungry, get on your fucking knees." I pulled off of him with a quiet "Okay". I sat on the floor and unbuckled his pants, sliding them off. His boxers remained, hugging a warm bulge. I grazed my fingers over them in disbelief. He really was perfect. He exhaled. "Dont tease me, Y/n."
I extracted his warm cock and pulled it towards my lips. I gingerly licked the tip and he sighed, reaching to grab my hair. He pulled it away from my face as I began to swirl my tongue around the head. My tongue slowly drifted around his shaft, up and down, and he groaned. "Take it in, slut." I smiled and held his shaft, slowly sliding up and down. I then opened wide and slid it inside my mouth, bathing his hard member in saliva. My tongue wrapped around him as I bobbed up and down, taking it all in. He groaned my name, pushing my head down more, until I was swallowing every bit of him. I was draining the exotic juices from Light Yagami. Sweet, savory. I kept sucking, aiming to see his eyes close in pleasure. Finally I pulled off, gasping for air. Thick saliva hung from my tongue mixed with his taste.
"Come here, slut," he demanded. I walked over and he gazed at me with lust. His cat eyes burned with hunger. In one swift movement, my bra was undone and it fell to the floor. He grabbed my waist and pulled me closer to him. The kiss was hot and demanding, and he kissed his way down my neck. Dark marks were sure to be found. His soft lips grazed my collarbones. I moaned his name and laid down on his bed. He positioned himself over me, kissing his way down my body. I palmed at his warm dick, throbbing to be inside of me. A warm substance pooled in my panties. As he caressed my breast, I felt my insides burn with lust. He continued to grow under me, and I moaned in anticipation. "Light, I need you."
He whispered in my ear "Open your fucking legs." My cheeks turned red and I obeyed. He slid my pink satin underwear off and a shiny, clean shaven pussy awaited. He rolled my skirt up and I closed my eyes, drawing in a breath. He was all I needed and I could hardly bare it anymore. he positioned his cock at my pussy lips. He stayed for a minute, sliding up and down the entrance. "I want you to beg for me," he whispered. I squeezed my eyes shut then looked aside, cheeks glowing red. He positioned it on my clit. "Beg for me, slut."
"I need you, Light. Fill me with your cum." He laughed and said, "good girl". He entered my tight walls, sliding into a warm, wet pocket. I felt his warm presence inside of me, filling up my desire. He slid in and out, and I whimpered, my innocence stripped away as he thrusted harder and deeper. My pussy walls gripped his member, mixing our wet fluids together, igniting pure pleasure. He grabbed my tits, fucking harder and deeper each thrust. I moaned his name. His cock was hitting every inch of me and yet I still craved more. He pulled out and I gasped.
"Turn around," he ordered. I flipped and felt his lustful gaze. He slapped my ass and muttered a curse word. He slid in from behind, my pussy gripping him in different ways. I moaned as he entered and began thrusting in and out, slapping my ass. "Fuck me harder." He slid in and out until we couldn't bare it.
Light flipped me over to a missionary position again. He thrusted in while sucking on the sweet spot on my neck. My nails scratched at his back, the feeling too much to resist. Lights small breaths hit my ear, and the sensation was heavenly. Finally I moaned and my walls clenched, gripping his hot cock as his thrusts got sloppy. "Fuck, im cumming." He breathed, thrusting himself all the way into me and hitting the spot that could never be reached on my own. I felt him twitch as cum was ejected into my cervix. I felt him fill me up, and I moaned his name one last time. He pulled out to let the hot, creamy mixture slide out of my hot cunt.
"I hope you learned a thing or two."
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Serious post.
Hi guys. I know you guys are probably surprised to hear from me considering my last post, and no, I’m not back permanently, but there is something I feel I need to make a post about.
Disclaimer: Do not harass the user mentioned in this post, I do not wish any harm onto them.
If you have been in the TPC community since January of this year, you know about the drama involving the user Cintagonisupset. If you’ve been keeping up with his blog (only reason I have is because I do 100% expect him to make another post about me and/or my friends) you would have seen one, or both of these posts.
Now, you might be wondering, why am I bringing these up? Both of these situations are extremely unfortunate, and they would be, if he wasn’t lying.
I know that it’s a bold claim to make, but it isn’t inaccurate. I may not have concrete confirmation of him lying, but I have more than enough evidence.
For the first image, he legit just- didn’t leave tumblr. He just pinned that post and kept on tumblr like normal. For the ENTIRE time he was supposedly gone, he was still reblogging posts, just putting in tags that he was “still gone”. After about,, maybe a week or so his pinned post was back to the usual one and he was posting like normal. Not to mention, a little ways through that whole leaving tumblr bs he had changed the pinned post to this. “I hope y’all bitches burn in hell” (actual picture to be added once I fucking find it AUGH)
(UPDATE I GOT IT)
And the second image? He claimed. To have to be sent to a mental hospital because of a mental breakdown. That is EXTREMELY serious. Do you know how in need of help you need to be to be admitted to a mental hospital? Do you know how horrid that would be to fake? Now, I haven’t been to a mental hospital myself, but I have several friends who have. Hell, I even have a IRL friend who has been to one AND has written a 10 page research paper on them. They have all stated to me that they wouldn’t let a patient keep their phone, and my IRL has stated that the wait times there would most likely keep them in the hospital for longer than they supposedly were in there.
All of this alone isn’t enough for me to claim that he faked it, seeing as he is in Canada and I’m in the US, and they most likely operate different than here. But you know what is? The fact that he has deleted EVERY SINGLE POST HE HAS MADE ABOUT HIM BEING IN THE HOSPITAL. Sure, he could’ve gotten out early, but why delete all of the posts about it, and not at the very least make an update post on his condition? I know for a fact that there are still people that care about him, and not making a post about his condition when he CLEARLY has the ability to be on tumblr seeing as he deleted all his posts mentioning the hospital is extremely suspicious, and basically proves that he has ulterior motives for making these posts.
What do I think these motives are? Well, I believe that he is trying to make anyone who checks his blog that was involved in the drama against him think that he’s gone, so that they stop checking his blog for good. Then he gets rid of or hides/buries the posts and goes on with life like nothing happened. I honestly don’t blame him for trying this, as trying to get out of drama with desperate tactics isn’t that surprising and is not that odd of a response. BUT LYING ABOUT GETTING SENT TO A MENTAL HOSPITAL??? YOU REALLY COULDN’T THINK OF ANYTHING BETTER??? Honestly, it makes me sick. Seeing someone fake something as SERIOUS as that. Makes me sick.
I do not wish harm on him. I wish for him to heal. I wish for him to get the help that he needs. From his repeated behavior, there appears to be something wrong with him mentally. While I do not enjoy claiming this, it’s the most logical explanation seeing as he’s been doing shit like this FOR OVER 4 YEARS. He genuinely needs professional help, and I pray that he gets it. But for now, all we can do is defend ourselves if he decides he wants to attack us yet again.
And a personal message to Cintagonisupset, if he just so happens to be reading this. Your actions severely upset me. This post has not been made to wish ill will onto you, but to bring to light something that you have done wrong, that is genuinely disgusting in my opinion. You have made callout posts for way less. Again, I do not wish any harm onto you, so do not wish any harm onto me. Or do. It’s just more evidence against you.
If anyone has read this far, thank you. Once again, do not harass Cintagonisupset, that is not the purpose of this post. Thank you, and have a wonderful rest of your day.
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Hairdresser s/o!
Characters: Scaramouche (not Wanderer), and Albedo (Separate)
Genre: Fluff!
Warnings: annoying customers (smh)
Scaramouche
You were tired after a long day of work, and it was almost after your shift. It wasn't a great day per-se, there were more difficult customers than usual. Not only this, but a bunch of the staff called in sick, so it was just you and two other co-workers there. Luckily, the day was just about to end. There were only a few more minutes. You really couldn't wait to get back home, and back to your lovely boyfriend, Scaramouche's arms. You felt kind of burnt out right now, and you knew being with him would help you out a lot.
However, your excitement to go home was soon snuffed out, like an extinguished flame, by the sound of the door opening. It was another customer. You and your co-workers' heads turned as they entered, demanding that their hair be styled, cut, and dyed while getting furious after you told them that the shop was just about to close. No matter what you told said customer, they just wouldn't leave.
"Why don't we just play rock paper scissors?" One of your co-workers, named Childe, suggested, "I mean, I really have to go right now, so... we should just let one person take one for the team!"
And of course, you were that person. You sighed, as you start to think of things to say to this difficult customer to make them leave. Unluckily for you, you couldn't think of anything that would convince someone like them.
However, right as you were about to give up and try to push them out the door or something, a familiar man pushed the door open like he owned the establishment.
"Y/n?" he asked, "do you still have clients? The salon was supposed to close 5 minutes ago, you know."
It was Scaramouche, the boyfriend you couldn't wait to get back home to! But why was he here?
"Hm? Scara? Uh, well, this client over here..."
At that point, said client interrupted.
"You said closed?! Well, look here! Someone else that you seem willing to service! My Hoyobook page WILL hear about this, you hear me?!"
"I- uh, ma'am-" you stutter, trying to get her to calm down.
"Uh, ma'am?!" the client basically screamed, "honestly! you can't even form a proper sentence! What does that mean?! Just for this interaction alone, I demand a 30% discount!"
"What y/n means, is that if you don't get out of here, right fucking now, some haircut wouldn't even be a worry of yours very shortly. You can stay around if you'd like to see why, though." Scaramouche threatened, giving the customer a death stare.
"I- Your manager will hear about this!" the customer screamed, before taking off running.
"Oh, um, T- thanks, Scara!" you say, greatly relieved that that person was gone. You look at your savior, your boyfriend. He really did look hot right now.
"Jeez, she couldn't even take a few threats... what a waste of space," muttered Scaramouche under his breath.
"Anyways! Why are you here?" you question, changing the topic. After all, he usually didn't come to visit after work.
"I just wanted to come to see you right after work. You should be thankful, honestly. And don't worry, what I said won't get you fired, not that you even need a job to begin with..." Scaramouche muttered.
"Aww!" you squeal, hearing that and running into his arms, giving him a hug and a few kisses, "you really are so sweet!"
"..."
"Okay then, let's go home!" you cheer. Even just seeing Scaramouche lifted your spirits, and it seemed to do the same for him.
While you two walk home, you joke about how you should also visit him at his workplace sometime. You were obviously not going to do it, as he has explicitly told you that it wasn't that safe, obviously, being in a place where not many like him, and being in a place where pretty much everyone has weapons and such. However, you still did want to visit his office. Maybe someday you could convince him!
After about 10 minutes, you reach your shared house and pop open the door with the key. You then walk over to the couch and collapse onto it.
"Come lay down with me, Scara!" you call out.
He sighed. "Fine, just for a bit though."
He moved onto the couch, and then you moved on top of him, laying on his chest. He really was super cute when he got soft, and you were the only one to see this side of him! It made you feel special. Oh, how lucky you were to have him! You sneak a kiss onto his cheek and lie back down, and soon, fall asleep.
And even though Scaramouche said he would only lie with you for "just a bit", you two ended up falling asleep together on the couch for the rest of the day. In all truth, he didn't fall asleep by accident, he just didn't want to disturb you from your slumber by moving, and ended up falling asleep. But he'd take that secret to the grave.
Albedo
You owned a small hair salon in Mondsdat, and actually, one of the only ones there, which meant you had many customers every day. You loved your job, but it was getting more and more tiring day by day. Not only this, but your salon got a sudden influx in popularity, which meant you didn't really have enough employees to meet everyone's needs. Cutting people's hair, whilst searching for employees, and running the store was really becoming tiring, and you knew you just needed a break. You also knew who else needed one.
"Hey, Bedo!" you say, entering his office.
He looked up, smiling as he saw you. "Yes, y/n?" he asked.
"Weell..." you said, "we're both really busy, right? So I thought we could go on a vacation for a bit! Just me and you! I think we both need it, and we also can get to spend more time together!"
"Oh... well, I suppose a little break wouldn't hurt," Albedo answered, "I just need to tell Jean, and I'll probably be able to go. Do you have anywhere planned?"
"Well," you say, moving to sit on his lap, and giving him a kiss, "not really! We should pick a destination together!"
"Alright then. Let's look for somewhere good after I'm done work, alright?" he asked, holding him in your arms and giving you a kiss back.
"Okay!" you smile, excited about where you were going to go. After all, it wasn't often that you two got much quality time together, and the vacation would be where you could cuddle with him all day and pepper him with kisses. You were already thinking of places you two could go as you walked out of his office. "See you at home, Bedo!"
END!
--------
Haha, can you tell who the favorite is? Can you? Can you?
-Celestient
(sorry the Albedo part is so short I just... well I have no excuses)
#genshin impact#scaramouche x you#scara x reader#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche#genshin x reader#genshin#albedo#albedo x reader#albedo x you#fluff#Celestient
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LIBERTINE — [6]
part FIVE
Ghost’s palm slid across the mattress, and he lazily tugged on the cold white sheets. His bed was empty. You were gone, and he woke up alone. The memories of last night flooded his memory; your body, your face, those pretty eyes and pink lips, all the lovely moans, and desperate whimpers that echoed off the walls… All of it was seared into his memory, and he had no intention of forgetting about it anytime soon.
A yawn eluded him. Blinking rapidly, he let his gaze dart around the space, gradually adjusting to the overwhelming brightness.
There were no traces of you left in his room. The only thing that reminded him of your presence here the last night was your perfume, which lingered and clung to his pillows.
Ghost let out a contented sigh. As he sat up, he could hear the faint sound of his joints cracking, accompanied by a satisfying pop. Tilting his head from side to side, he felt a pleasant release in his neck.
Part of him was relieved that you had snuck out and didn’t wake him up. This meant there didn’t need to be any awkward conversations and him telling you that although he basically dragged you into his bed last night, it meant nothing this morning.
Sometimes, his one-night stands would mistakenly believe that the mere act of him thrusting his dick inside them implied a newfound wish to be their devoted partner. Ghost hated explaining himself; he loathed repeating the same tale every time, telling how he had no interest in dating or pursuing relationships.
It would have been simpler to stop being a jerk. To quit sleeping with and using women just because he could do so. But he enjoyed his lifestyle way too much, and he was far too arrogant to admit that in the long run, it would bite him in the arse.
After getting out of bed, he noticed his notebook. And that it was open. He furrowed his eyebrows, walking closer to the desk. His jaw clenched, and his face turned blank, pale as a paper, as he gritted his teeth.
Ghost’s mind spiralled, immediately conjuring up the worst-case scenarios.
He forgot to hide the stupid thing — he usually carried it with himself or if not; he stuffed it inside his sock drawer — and it’s not like he cared about someone seeing the notebook, but he knew it could cause him a lot of trouble if someone would decide to snitch on him. Collecting the names of your one-night stands wasn’t exactly against the rules. It was, however, prohibited to sleep with recruits; you also were intoxicated last night, which only adds more problems to this whole situation.
For the first time, Ghost regretted acting on impulses rather than thinking with his head.
If you have seen it, if you have read the names and recognised any of them… Fuck. Ghost knew you weren’t stupid, so you definitely connected all the dots and figured out what exactly this notebook was and why he kept it.
However, after he stopped thinking, once he shut off his mind because he needed a moment to calm down and stop panicking, he noticed something scribbled on the page, which was previously blank.
Ghost laughed. When he realised you had no intention of telling anyone about what had happened and what you had found out, he felt a weight lift from his chest and slide off his shoulders.
He rolled his eyes, clicking his teeth as his finger grazed over the neat handwriting. He read your name out loud. Whispering it to himself again, when he realised you had written it down and then even rated yourself 10/10.
Ghost definitely thought you weren’t wrong, but if he needed to give you a mark, he definitely would give you a bigger one because you exceeded his high expectations.
* * *
Ghost attempted to get back into his usual routine and forget about you for the rest of the week. His game was over. He got what he wanted, and there was no point in rehashing the old memories of you in his bed, trapped in his arms and under him, whispering his name into his ear, over and over again, like it was a sweet prayer, as your warm breath tickled his neck and sent shivers down his spine, while you dragged your nails down his back.
But despite his best efforts to banish you from his thoughts, you always managed to resurface in his mind.
Eventually, he let go of his self-imposed restrictions and began eagerly scanning the empty hallways for any sign of you. Whenever he entered any room, his gaze raced around the space. He’d try to find you, to catch your eyes, to see if he could read your mind simply by looking at you. However, no matter how many times he cornered you, you always gave him a cold shoulder and would slip away from his grasp.
You returned to being mute and not a single word left you when he tried to talk to you. After everything that had happened, it felt like a déjà vu, returning to the beginning, where he had to chase you and fight for your attention.
It all frustrated him. The way you treated him drove him to the point where he felt like he was going crazy, contemplating ripping out his hair if it would provide any relief and at least a minute of distraction. He couldn't stop thinking about you, your presence lingered in his mind like an unsolved riddle. Your disregard for him only exacerbated his turmoil.
What the hell was going on with him?
Hidden within the depths of him, a faint whisper of truth resided — the answer to the question — yet he forcefully silenced it.
The mere notion of love, of him falling for someone, was ludicrous. He didn’t date; he didn’t have time for relationships, and he only entertained women because he wanted someone to warm his bed once in a while, and because he wanted to continue adding to the list of names in his notebook.
The idea of him falling for you was absurd, or at least he tried to convince himself so. Although, the longer and harder he tried to ignore it all, the louder and more annoying the voice inside his head grew, telling him that this time he got himself in a mess and there was no way out but to confront it all and be honest with himself and with you.
#LIBERTINE:SimonRiley#call of duty#cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x y/n#ghost x reader#ghost x you#writing
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💖𝒯𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊🌺
Hawks/ Keigo Takami x F!Reader
Barely Proof read....0%
Synopsis💞
Having less and less time for yourself you’ve come across your 10 year journal, what happens if a certain bird read it without your permission.
⚠️WARNING: Bonus content contains 18+ content.
Tag list: @mysideeffectsofyou
Masterlist
🌺Having less and less time for yourself you’ve come across your 10 year journal, you made a rule for yourself to never write something negative on the journal, despite your known rule your last entry was about how you felt so sad about being so lonely in life. You wanted to change that.
🌺You Brought the journal along with you to kind of update it and maybe add some new stuff too. Thankfully, Hawks is on patrol so you don't need to care for any paper works... For awhile at-least.
🌺When Hawks returned you are now bounded to a mountain of paper work that needed to be done. Hawks being a caring person(or maybe because he is secretly interested in you), he insisted on letting you go home early and so you obliged. Packing your things you said good bye to your boss, leaving the table as is. For Hawks to continue the paper works for you,
🌺Hanks all alone in the room, He lazily walks towards your table to continue working on the remaining paper. until he noticed a notebook, a notebook adored with various vintage elements. Obviously, this notebook doesn't belong anywhere at his agency, so the straight forward answer would be that you accidentally left your notebook.
🌺With the notebook taking more of his attention span than this few unfinished paper works. He hastily opened the mysterious notebook on his hands.
🌺When he reads it for the first time reading about some of the things you appreciate in life.
“Who knew a quiet person like you, would be into so many stuff”
🌺He knows that he shouldn’t be reading this, these are your private thoughts. Much his self debate having your journal on his hands is almost like a Pandora's box. Well all of that said, how could a man like him who is interested on you, could control himself
"This is life now he whispered "this is life now" he said the second time much louder than before
"Fuck it" and reopens your journal.
He learned how you struggle about being quirkless, but you didn't let that bother you and move on.
He learns about your ex and how he demands you to come back to him and how you want to avoid him.
He learns about your failed attempts of dating, etc.
🌺He learns about what you thought of him. Well Not really, "Wait, that's it?"
He was honestly so disappointed, how could he, when there is only a mere 3 sentences, 3 SENTENCES dedicated for him! It wasn't even your admiration For him it's just how he is a much better boss than your previous one.
🌺Lastly, he learns about how you feel about yourself
‘June 02 20XX
It's been awhile since I wrote, I guess I'm sorry, I had no reason to write, nothing interesting has happened. I'm writing just to let out what I've been feeling. I feel lonely, why do I feel like I don't have friends most of the times, I mean I have Friends at least I think I do.
I don't know what's wrong with me, I tried dating but none of it seems to work, is there something wrong with me? is it my attitude perhaps, a karma? I don't know. I should stop writing, like goes on, I should just try and enjoy it while I still can.’
you were alway a quiet person so hawks just assumed that your just shy, but opening your journal led him to discover new things about you and for some reason he wanted be a part of your life, so that for a change you wont be alone anymore, you could stick images of you and him hanging out on your journal, let you meet the UA high students to let you befriend them. Just imagining about it made him giggle making his heart heart Flutter. Flipping on to a next page it reads.
“My Ideal partner”
🌺His forbidden reading session was disrupted when he suddenly hears footsteps just outside the office knowing who it was. He instinctively closed the book, put it where he found it and act like nothing happened.
🌺there was a knock and the door revealed you. Of course you have come back when you realized that your journal was not with you. When you entered, your heart dropped From the sight of him on your table, trying to act cool, you nervously explained that you forgot something on your table. he stood up from your seat to let you do your business. you noticed that he was almost done with the papers. You found your notebook and said thank you to Hawks.
🌺Before leaving the scene Hawks called you out "Do you have anything planned out tomorrow?"
"No, well maybe paper works, why?"
He explained that the there is an event at the UA High it's basically just another training for the students and he was invited to train the students on their agility. "It would be nice to have you there,"he said, you simply agreed it would be a nice change of pace For a day.
Meanwhile Keigo’s inside thoughts were filled with "I need to know her Ideal partner!!!"
🌺the next day, you were just seating in one of the bleachers watching the students use there quirk against Hawks. Some succeeded some didn't. You were just taking pictures of the moment. Until Keigo called you to come over, he introduced you to the students and left to grab some lunch take out for the whole class.
🌺The day ended, you were tired, but not complaining you were able to make friends to some students, giving mind one of your social media contacts. some new pictures to put on your journal.
🌺You were waiting for the bus for you to return or your residence until you heard keigo making a landing behind you then asked you a question
“are you available again same time next week?"
🌺You don’t know what happened to the guy, your boss, who is now weirdly your friend now, it wasn’t like this before. It was always him in you in the office, he gives you a job, you do your job, you done the job and give it to him in such a cold and intense interaction. Among to all of your boss you’ve come across, never in your life you were able to be friend one. You always want to keep it professional, but that seems to be out of the window now that your friends, WHO KEEPS PESTERING YOU TO COME WITH HIM EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO GO WITH HIM.
“C’monnnn, you should come with me, we could have a roof top site seeing together after it, oh and you could take pictures to you seem to like taking picture of a lot of things”
“Hawks-“ “It’s Keigo” Oh did I mention that he want to have a first name basis with you.
Saying his name more sternly “Hawks, You are going on a meeting, have you forgotten that your meeting is solely for you and the other heroes? Besides who would do the papers after your patrol”
He sighs defeated.
🌺Eventually, you would allow him to bring you into some-places, you had no choice he’s been annoying you about it, its better than being locked up in the office. And when its your day off sometimes you would be invited to a mall shopping with the girls, then Keigo would come flying in, trying to force himself into the group, the girls wont stop teasing you about it.
“You should give him a chance, I think he like you” Ochaco said
“What do you mean he likes me, I’m his assistant, do you know how messed up that is, not mention I’m kind of avoiding the love department for awhile” making up excuses to exit this type of conversation.
“Hmm I don’t know, he always wants to hang out with you, not to mention how he looks at you, and give us free KFC when were with you, but boss and assistant dynamic are quite popular these days, ” Mina said, causing the group to giggle and you couldn’t help but giggle too.
“Hello there girls, what have you been giggling about” and the infamous hawk has entered the scene with bouquet of flowers on his hands offering to you. “Here, you deserve some flowers for you birthday”
The whole group just basically said “Ooooooo”
“So mind if join you girls?”
🌺Before you even noticed you been frequently smiling more.
“Hey there, baby bird wat’cha smiling about” Keigo asked, You’ve been re-reading your old journals, and they were quite a lot. You can’t stop smiling about the memories you’ve created for years.
“Nothing its just my journal, I was looking back at my old memories and just looking how far I’ve come, I couldn’t help but feel happy about it” You said showing him your journal, it seemed his face brightened up when you showed him the now worned out notebook.
“You can read it, if you want, I don’t mind” you said,
“I can?” He said confusingly
“Of course why would a keep something from my newly wed husband” when you said that he was all happy about it, he was so cute, you just cant help but cuddle against him while reading your journals.
Time passed you fell asleep, he didn’t mind you both got used feeling each other heat. He continued reading and was able to see what have become of the journal he opened all those years ago. And this time he is not disappointed because he became part of your life, he loves you and you love him back, nothing is ever going to replace that. You’re his world, and he is your home.
💖 Bonus:
“Morning baby bird *chu*”
“Hi sweet keigo,”
“I have a question babe”
“Mmm, what is it” you said groggily
“Have I been your ideal partner this whole time?” He said SO seductively teasing you with that huge smirk on his face.
“Keigo, you tease me again, I will not let you cuddle me”
💖Bonus X2:
"i have a confession" said keigo
"what is it" you said, more focused on the document than him
"remember that one time you left your journal, on the office? on our old office?"
"yeah?, what about it"
"well, I was so into you, and i wanna know more about you, i know its bad, but I couldn't help myself, so a read it"
"oh your in a big trouble" you said
You punished him by edging him the whole night in bed ending up spilling his seed inside of you.
Masterlist
#hawks x reader#hawks x y/n#bnha hawks#mha hawks#pro hero hawks#takami keigo x reader#takami keigo#hawks#wing hero hawks#hawks fanfiction#mha hawks x reader#keigo x you#keigo x y/n#keigo x reader#keigo takami x y/n#keigo takami#keigo takami x reader
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Her vulnerability
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10
Guide for tormented hearts
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Selective mute reader
Warnings: past trauma mention; crying(again); Wednesday is scared.
Summary: Wednesday ran away from you. To be honest, you weren't really surprised — but what did surprised you is that she came back. She came back and she was afraid — and she needed your help.
Some reader's characteristics: R has anxiety disorder, selective mutism, and is a really unique type of outcast. Reader's background it's derived from my Wednesday fic, The Hunt.
More details of Hank background and his partnership with Wednesday here.
There was a reason behind you didn't have friends: you sucked at it.
Whether it was talking too much or talking too little, you couldn't handle another person's feelings and needs when your own were so overwhelming. You were always rambling on about a topic — that usually was interesting for you alone — or standing quietly as the other person tried to hold a proper conversation and form bonds.
You were too open, or too closed — too much, or not enough.
You are tired of even trying to do it all again — the end is always the same, anyway. So you rather withdraw, tuck yourself into your journal until the night is over and face another day at school — where every sound is too loud, every light is too bright, every question is too hard. Everything is too much, and your body trembles when the memories of Alp return to your mind.
So you hid.
You isolated yourself from anything that could trigger you — you did everything you could to hold back the lump in your throat that came up every time you tried to talk to someone.
You were unstable. Messy. And no one can really stand this — you.
They get worn out, as your vatter did, as your mother, as Rachel — as Hank. They step back so they won’t be drained by you — they leave.
And it didn’t matter what you saw on Wednesday’s head, you know she is no different.
So it wasn’t really a surprise when she ran away from you after you broke down in front of her again.
Wednesday despites weakness, and that’s what you are: weak. Her latest vision might have shown it to her, this might be the reason why she ran away.
But you received a note. When you were packing your notebooks and getting ready to leave the class, you found the black paper folded among the pages of your journal.
Follow me. it said, and you had to lift your head instantly and look for Wednesday’s dark figure moving around the classroom. You hadn't seen her all day, you couldn't force yourself to do it, so it was unexpected to you to suddenly have to track her down in the crowd of Nevermore students.
You fought your way through the teenagers and reached her in a few minutes: you started to walk by her side, but she didn’t utter a word. Not even a single glance.
She only stormed out of the school and ran into the forest.
Oh.
She was going to murder you.
You were sure of it until she turned around and stood in front of you. Her gaze was unsteady, quick, and watery. You had only seen her like that twice before — at the lake, right after her vision; and last night, when she ran away. This time, however, she stood still.
“You’re the child of a witch.” Her voice echoed through the woods. “A German witch.”
“I know.” You lowered your head. “She left when I was a baby to work for the L/N.”
Wednesday frowned immediately: her eyebrows knitted together more closely, her expression sharper than usual. “No.” She retorted, stepping towards you. “That’s not what I saw.”
“But that’s the truth, Wednesday.” Your voice grew stiffer. “I see it everytime I sleep and I’m left alone with the Alp.”
“You’re wrong.” You choked. Was she trying to explain your own past to you? “I am still trying to unravel the truth, but I know that’s not it.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
Wednesday froze for a second. “I don’t know why you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset.” You sighed. You really weren’t. “I’m worried. Worried about you. You panicked the last time you had a vision and now you’re, somehow, seeing my mother. That’s….dangerous.”
“A witch does not scare me.”
“But a grieving woman should.” You fought back. What was going on in you to argue so hard? “She’s lost her mind since my father died.”
“I am not afraid.”
“So why did you—” Your tone grew suddenly, but you stopped yourself from yelling. You breathed in, closed your eyes and scratched your head for a few seconds before continuing: “Why did you run away?”
You were trembling already: trying too hard to not snap to see Wednesday’s features softing.
You did not see the way her eyes went watery when they watched your hushed, distressed movements; nor the way her fists closed tightly as her answer got stuck on her throat; nor the way her anger grew as she noticed how worried you really were — just because of her.
You were trembling because of her.
“I needed time to think.” She finally replied. “I won’t apologize for it.”
“You don’t have to.” You opened your eyes, but didn’t look at her. “I get it, I do. But…” Your voice cracked ever so slightly. “Are you sure you want to go on with this?”
‘This’, Wednesday thought, what is ‘this’? Your friendship? The investigation after the stalker? The unraveling of your past? Either way, her answer was the same:
“Yes.”
“Alright.” You breathed out. “Alright, what did you see yesterday? Only my mother?”
Wednesday nodded, the movements of her head preventing you from noticing her throat moving in a dry swallow. “She was standing in the dark. Singing.” The song sounded again inside her mind, forcing her to close her eyes and breathe heavily.
‘Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf!’
‘Der Vater hüt' die Schaf’
“It's a lullaby.” You explained, even though Wednesday stood in complete silence. There was only one song your mother would sing — and there was only a melody who could terrify someone like it did to Wednesday.
It didn’t matter how strong, brave, and scary the Addams girl was — your mother could destroy her with a few verses. She had done it to you so many times; maybe the witch was looking for a new guinea pig; maybe the L/N ordered her to watch Wednesday; maybe even Aretha did.
Anyone could be after Wednesday at this point — after all, she was your friend.
And your parents always hated your friends.
“It’s a sort of trigger to madness. It is…disturbing, literally.” You went on, your low voice making the song slowly drift away from Wednesday’s mind. “My vatter used to sing me to sleep but..they've turned it into something bad.”
“Why would they do it?”
“To transform me.” You whispered. “To keep me in the palm of their hand, to keep anyone too fragile to stand up for themselves.” Your tone grew heavier, as if the words now coming out of your mouth were burdens, huge stones you carried for too long. “They sing it everytime.”
“To every camper?”
“No. No, only to the ones they wish to break.”
“And your mother, the Hexe, helps the L/Ns with it?”
“They work together.” You shook your head. “I told you, it’s too dangerous, they’re too powerful, they’re everywhere.”
“And what about Hank?”
You frowned.
“What about him?”
“Have they ever sung to him?”
“I…I.” Your voice disappeared. “I don’t know.”
X
“I brought breakfast!” Hank held up the tray as if raising a trophy. "Toast and orange juice, a real luxury." The tamer placed the tray on the inmate's bed and pulled the iron chair to his side.
He sat near Tyler and then grabbed a lidded bowl from his backpack. With his back turned to the camera on the ceiling, his shoulders hiding the tray from the recording, Hank opened the bowl and carefully placed a few bacon slices on the plate.
“What ar—”
“Shush.” Hank grabbed the toast from the tray and bit it. “Come on, go ahead.”
“I thought you were vegetarian.” Tyler whispered, analyzing the food on the plate with confusion.
“I am,” Tyler whispered back. “but the guards always steal your bacon.”
Galpin leaned on the wall behind him, his hands falling towards the tray on his bed.
It smelled delicious — better than anything he has had in the prison.
“Here.” Hank held a cup of juice out to him. “How are you doing today?”
Tyler grabbed the cup, making his chains rattle, and sipped the yellow drink. “Good.” He said before biting a slice of bacon, his head turned to the tray. “My dad came to see me.” Tyler paused to swallow. “We talked. He asked me about my routine. It was nice. He seemed…relieved.”
“I’m glad to hear about it, Ty.” Hank smiled and picked a banana from the tray, peeling and slicing it with his hands. “I remember you said you missed spending time with him.”
“Yeah, it was probably the first time we sat and talked since…” Tyler’s voice disappeared as he watched Hank’s movement. “I’m sorry, what are you doing?”
Hank was laying the banana slices on the toast, totally concentrated and determined.
Like it was a usual, normal breakfast. He bit his odd combination before looking up to Tyler again.
“What?”
“I get that you like fruits but…on the toast?” Tyler’s face was frowned in disgust. “Ew.”
“Well, I need some carbs too.”
“You have never considered pancakes?”
“I’ve never had them.”
Tyler’s face went black.
“You’re joking.”
“Not really.” Hank kept eating while Tyler remained motionless. He was remembering the little he knew about Hank — raised in the woods, a chemist and planter, really poor until his family became famous. It was the first time he was staying in America, which meant he had never had a proper breakfast.
“That’s sad.” Tyler whined. “You should try the blueberry ones. It's on the Weathrevane’s menu.”
“I will.” Hank replied quietly and continued eating.
Tyler finally focused on his own breakfast again and they both remained in silence as the food disappeared from the plate and bowl. They finished eating, and the chains on Tyler's ankles, hanging over the edge of the bed, were striking Hank's legs slightly, but neither of them moved away.
“He said you convinced him to come.” Tyler was the one who broke the silence. “He said…He said he was happy to know that you really brought his son back.”
“I barely did a thing, Tyler.”
“We know that’s not true.” Galpin fought back immediately. “And the court does too...”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been told I’m going to be transferred.” Tyler could see Hank gritting his teeth, but he went on. “To some sort of behavioral control center.”
“It’s a camp.” Hank finally spoke, his tone completely stiff. “where they teach you how to tame your impulses.”
“ ‘Tame’? That’s what you do, right? You’re an tamer?”
“Who told you about this?” Hank’s features changed. It was odd to see him like that — it was the first time Tyler saw him like that. Serious, firm, rough. Unless he always behaved like this with…the other one. “Tyler.”
“I’m receiving anonymous letters.” He explained. “They have told me about this and about Xavier’s father.”
Hank closed his fists. Hank closed his fists, shook his head and said nothing. “I see.”
“The Hyde was trying to keep me in the dark about it.” Tyler moved suddenly, hugging his knees and letting the words leave his mouth as a whisper. Hank did not flinch: he kept staring at Galpin. “But I found it. I found it and I also replied Xavier, as you asked.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“But I wanted to.” Tyler’s gaze was everywhere: on the ceiling, on the tray, on his chain, on the floor; everywhere but on the chair so close to him. “He deserves to know.”
“Know what, exactly?” Hank folded his fingers over his lap, his expression slowly softening, but Tyler didn't look at him to notice.
“Know that I was sorry, and that I didn’t mean to do these things, to leave him. That I wasn’t fully in control.” He could hear Hank grunting in agreement. “And that he should stay away.”
“Tyler!” Hank finally moved. “I told you not to do that, you can’t push everyone away.” He held Tyler’s chains, making him look at him. “You can’t.”
“But I must.” Tyler retorted. His voice was weak, trembling. “Otherwise they get hurt, killed. I’m too dangerous.”
“You are not.” Hank pulled the chains closer. “The Hyde is, not you.”
“Bu we are the s—”
“No.” Hank’s touch made Tyler stop — only when the tamer’s grip reached his skin, Galpin noticed the tears falling down his cheeks. Hank wiped his tears as he went on. “That’s why I’m here. To make sure you two are not the same.”
“To tame me.” Tyler’s words made Hank grit his teeth again. “To be my master.”
“No.” Hank leaned back ever so slightly. “No, I hate these terms. I’m here to help you, that’s it.”
“Like a psychologist?”
“Like someone you can rely on.” Hank smirked when he noticed Tyler was no longer crying. “Do you think you can bear my pesky presence?”
Tyler chuckled.
“Sure.”
X
Books were your barriers.
Figuratively or literally, the stories transcripted on paper served as a barrier to you and the outside world. While it was clear to her from the beginning that you hid yourself in the writings and your journals, Wednesday hadn't noticed until now how you literally hide yourself as well.
Most of your free time was spent in the library — the same seat as always, the back table, your chair facing the doorway in the distance — and the piles of books surrounded you like medieval walls.
You couldn't even see her coming, your posture was too bent for your vision to reach her, the books were stacked too high to show any figure surrounding you. The sound of the chair being moved was what woken you: as always, you leapt up in your chair, and raised your head to smile at Wednesday.
Usually, you didn't say much. You didn't ask how her day was or which teacher she disliked the most — your most frequent form of communication was a pile of books. Every time, there was a part of your wall reserved just for her — you would dismantle a part of your barrier and hand its pieces over to her alone.
You were overjoyed when she said she had already read some book you had selected. But she had never seen the expression that took on your face this time.
"No." She pushed the books away as soon as she saw the name 'Brontë' on it. "I hate period novels."
You turned red, confused, and bit your lips for a long time before expressing a response.
"Mary Shelley is a period writer.”
"Mary Shelley does not write about platitudes."
Your hands fell on the table in frustration.
"It's not Charlotte, it's Emily." You tried again. "It's not the kind of story you imagine, give it a chance."
"No." She pushed the book even further toward you. You pushed it back.
"You'll like it, I bet."
She looked at you longingly. It was strange to see the way confidence shone in your eyes, the way you acted so naturally even though you’ve seen her so fragile. Panic had already taken over her twice in front of you — and you acted like it was nothing.
"And what do I get in return?" She asked quickly, trying to change the direction of her thoughts.
"You mean the winner?"
"Precisely."
You laughed and shook your head, the mischievous smile you always showed for Addams' overconfidence.
"An original manuscript. A rare, unpublished edition." You had several hidden at home - and they were worth using as a bargaining chip. After all, you knew that Wednesday Addams would love Wuthering Heights. "What do you think?"
"I think you should prepare for defeat."
You chuckled before shaking your head and lowering your gaze to the book open in front of you. You started to read again, and the smallest frown came back to your features: the same expression of when you're thinking — reading, analyzing, not feeling. Perhaps it was the only time you did look calm. Stable. And it disturbed Wednesday.
Where was your deep gaze? Where was your energy? Were you not scratching your own skin? Where were your gestures and every single motion that made her read you so easily?
Where was the despair that subdued her so quickly in her vision — and that reaches you every time you sleep?
Where was your fear?
Were you seeing the Hexe too?
"Are your dreams always like that?" The thought escaped through her lips. You lifted your head in a leap.
"Like that?"
"Like my visions." She muttered. "Overwhelming. Painfully thick and…confusing." Her eyes were not on you anymore. "As if....if I'm drowning because of her singing."
"Yes." Your voice sounded like a hard breath. "Every time I dream, it comes along with the Alp's nightmares."
"Every night?" Wednesday's voice weakened. "Every single night?"
"Yes." Your tone was firmer. It had to be so hers didn't. "So I stay up."
"That's why you're hypersensitive."
You nodded, your eyes drafting away from the table, unsure of where to go — just like Wednesday's. "I either lose my breath because someone is talking too loud or I wake up painting because of her lullaby." You laughed sadly. "I'm not sure what is worse."
"It felt as if I was suffocating."
"It did." You were too vehement in your reply, too sure about it. Your response couldn't help but make her look at you. "It does."
How could you handle it — how could you face that witch every single night?
How could you hear that voice without going crazy? Without running away and crying, painting, sobbing, just like Wednesday did?
How could you stay so still after listening to it? After seeing all this?
Wednesday could barely think about her vision without losing her breath — so how could you think enough about it all to express it on paper?
And you were doing it again — right now, your fingers flipped through the pages of your journal until you found a blank one. You started writing.
How could you do it without breaking down? How could you express yourself so effortlessly? How could you handle feeling all of this?
“Teach me.” She said suddenly. “Teach me how to handle this.”
‘This’, you thought, even though you already knew what she was referring to — ‘this’, the fear, the panic, the fright and feelings your mother’s singing always brings.
The vulnerability compelled by the lullaby — her vulnerability.
You shook your head and gave one of your journals to Wednesday.
She started writing too.
@cursedchar (I'm missing your writing, mi inspiración) @i984 (Honestly, I don't think I can't say no to you so I'm posting this as proper explanation of the previous chapters) @4pparecium @tnnadia @colezb @elduster @efectoangel @sweetaimu @tundra1029 @rainbowsixreader @awolfcsworld @rainbow-love4ever @alexkolax @anonymousewrites (@wednesdaynet & @emziess thank you both for the gif!)
#wednesday addams#wednesday x reader#wednesday x you#original character#tyler galpin#wednesday fanfic#german language
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