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missmonsters2 · 1 year

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—Lips Over Your Nightmares

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: You've been having trouble sleeping. Nightmares haunt you every time you close your eyes, and Wednesday offers a solution in the form of comfort only she is capable of.

Warnings: Soft!Wednesday. Possessive!Wednesday. Intimate. Wednesday ran out of patience. Emotionally charged confessions. Kissing. Lots and lots of kissing.

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

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Note: I said wednesday is soft for her girl and I will take no arguments about it. The act of kissing in this fic is peak wlw. I'm sleeping on the highway tonight and taking you all with me.

Count: 2.6k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Nighttime could be hellish.

It was probably why Wednesday adored it so much.

You loved it too. There was something divine about the nighttime. People feared the dark, but you saw it as an opportunity to rest your weary eyes and bones. The night gave way to being invisible, and there were some days when that was all you could bear to be.

But to Wednesday Addams, who loved the dark, you could never be invisible to her.

It was a blessing and a curse.

To be seen by Wednesday—it was something more than many people could ever hope for.

But to be seen when you wanted to be invisible? It was like being dragged without anything to hold onto.

Nighttime was hellish, and you wanted to disappear into the dark as your nightmares plagued you until you couldn't even tell what was the dream and what was the reality.

But Wednesday Addams saw you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You've missed Enid's late-night studying session again. It's the second week in a row that Enid's gotten a text from you two minutes before the session started.

"I guess we can start," Enid told the group with a disappointed smile. "She's not coming today either."

"Fuck," Xavier sighed. "She's the only one who's good at art restoration. I was hoping she'd help me with my assignment."

Wednesday's face scrunched together mildly, and Xavier rolled his eyes. "Except for you, Wednesday. But you hate teaching me and I hate learning from you."

"I can't help it if you're stupid," Wednesday dully replied.

"Not all of us can do it perfectly after being told what to do—told only once might I add," Xavier raised his brow at her.

Wednesday shrugged, which only seemed to irk Xavier more and to prevent them from bickering further, Yoko turned to Enid and asked, "Why isn't she coming?"

Enid shrugged, her lips quirked to the side as they pressed together. "She texted to say she wasn't feeling well and couldn't make it."

"She does seem tired lately," Bianca commented, her expression in deep thought as she recalled the last two weeks when she saw you. "Also, really quiet. Well, quieter than she normally is."

There were murmurs of agreement around while Wednesday sat silently. Of course, she also noticed, but she was waiting for you to say something to her. You always told her whatever was plaguing you, even when Wednesday told you she didn't ask. Wednesday was used to hearing your mundane thoughts or solving your problems.

But there was nothing this time, and Wednesday couldn't figure it out. She tried to think back to see if anything had changed—if something had happened, but there was nothing.

Two weeks of leaving you be was enough, though, Wednesday decided as she packed her things into her bag.

"What! Wednesday, are you leaving too?" Enid groaned. "But I need help with botanical sciences!"

"Ask Bianca," Wednesday didn't even look up.

Enid looked at the siren, who had a deceitful, happy smile.

"I'd be happy to help you, Sinclair. Let's talk The Poe Cup negotiations first."

"Absolutely not!" Enid scoffed before turning back to Wednesday with pleading eyes. "Wednesday..." she whined.

"Ask Xavier," Wednesday didn't budge.

"But all he does is draw in class. There's no way he's doing well."

"I'll have you know I'm getting a C," Xavier looked affronted.

Enid merely stared at the sullen boy for a long moment before she turned back to Wednesday. "I'll just wait for you tomorrow after school."

Xavier was about to say something else when Wednesday briskly nodded, standing up and leaving the group behind without another word.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was completely silent on the other side of your door, and from its looks, it was dark as no lights were shining underneath it.

Wednesday knocked in three successions.

There was no answer.

If it were anyone else, they would've believed you weren't there and left, but not Wednesday.

No, she knew you far too well.

This was a place where you could truly be invisible with no roommate.

Wednesday knocked insistently until she heard shuffling, an agitated huff, and footsteps approaching the door.

The door only opened marginally. You looked mildly surprised to see her, but Wednesday supposed you had too little energy to manage anything more.

There were dark circles under your eyes, and they looked puffy and slightly red around the edges from lack of sleep. Your skin was pallor, which suited someone like Wednesday, but she decided it was not on you. Your hair lacked its usual shine, and Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she finished scrutinizing you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked quietly.

"Are you going to just let me stand out here?"

"I'm not in the mood for company, Wednesday," you blinked slowly.

It was new.

You were usually happy for Wednesday's company whenever she stopped by, and you often visited her dorm.

"I have had enough of this," Wednesday glared at you through the gap in the door. "You will let me in."

"And if I don't?" You challenged back, and Wednesday almost wanted to applaud the snippy attitude you've mustered through the tiredness.

"Then I will wait out here and ensure you don't get a. Single. Wink. Of. Sleep." It was a threat that tugged at your nerves. You looked at Wednesday, and for a brief moment, she thought she won before you shut the door in her face.

Disbelief clouded over Wednesday's eyes.

Then, Wednesday began to knock incessantly over and over on your door. Her knuckles knock with a vengeance, and she'll be damned if you think she doesn't take absolute joy in torturing you.

It worked because you open the door wider this time, as you stare at Wednesday with a glare.

"What part of 'I'm not in the mood for company' was unclear, Wednesday?" Your voice was gruff, and Wednesday could tell that you were still trying to not snap at her despite how tired you were.

And that in itself was everything. It was like that all the time.

You were always trying to be considerate of whatever feelings you thought Wednesday might have while gently pushing her to admit which ones she was truly feeling.

Maybe that was why Wednesday could never leave you alone now.

You were a gateway to things Wednesday never wanted, and she genuinely thought you should pay for making her desire things she swore she'd never want.

"Say you don't want my company then," Wednesday said haughtily.

Wednesday knew you wouldn't—couldn't, even. You never would.

Just as you were her exception, she was yours.

You pursed your lip at her, starting to close the door swiftly, and Wednesday stuck her foot partially into your room, preventing you from shutting the door in her face again.

"Wednesday!" You called her name, concerned you might've hurt her when the door hit her foot, but the macabre girl used the opportunity to press her palm flat against your door and pushed it wide open.

She took a step forward menacingly, forcing you to take a step back. She took another step, and you took another one back. When she was inside your room fully, she used the back of her heel to shut your door.

The resounding click of it made you swallow.

"Wednesday," you clenched your jaw, fighting against something you weren't even really sure why. But you were terrified—of her, you don't think, but rather what she was capable of doing to your heart.

"I have been patient," Wednesday's voice is quiet, but her tone is sharp, expressing every bit of her lost tolerance. "I have waited for you silently."

Wednesday kept walking towards you, backing you up until your back bumped into your desk. She looked positively irritated. "I have even refrained from saying a single unkind thing despite them running through my mind at the sight of you moping at whatever has been keeping you up at night."

"How did you know—"

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Wednesday's eyes flashed dangerously at your insinuation. You shook your head.

"Then you must take me for a fool with endless patience," Wednesday glared at you. "I don't take kindly to the kind of games you're playing."

"I'm not playing anything—"

Wednesday cut you off again. "Then explain concisely what has been keeping you up and why you've been keeping it to yourself."

Silence filled the room as you didn't speak, but Wednesday had already waited this long. She could wait a little more.

Wednesday watched how you gripped the edge of your desk, your finger tapping underneath in rapid succession before you closed your arms over her chest.

The stance was defensive, but you looked more reluctant than wary.

"I'm having nightmares about you."

The admittance stunned Wednesday, and she didn't know how to take it. Initially, it felt like a compliment because nightmares were so fascinating and exhilarating to experience, and Wednesday hoped to have nightmares every night she slept based on that logic.

But you were not her.

Nightmares, illogically, were typically not desirable.

"Wednesday, I—" You swallowed. "I have feelings for you. You're the best and worst part of my days because I actually feel clinically insane everytime I see you, spend time with you and then have to face the fact that you're not mine and I'm not yours."

Wednesday's jaw clenched, and it was noticeable. She wanted to open her mouth and demand how you could feel the exact same way she did, but she kept her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue on.

"And I have nightmares about losing you," you confessed. "I have nightmares about losing you to Tyler or another deranged supernatural being. I have nightmares about losing you to Xavier or Enid or somebody like Tyler, minus the whole mass genocide. I have nightmares about losing you in every single imaginable way, only to wake up and realize you're not mine, and you can't lose what you don't have."

"I can't tell if the nightmare is when I'm asleep or when I'm awake." You put your hands to your face, laughing hollowly. Tears well up in the back of your eyes, burning as they were so dry from lack of sleep. "I think I'm going crazy."

Wednesday wanted to tell you that going crazy was supposed to be wonderful. But she, herself, has been experiencing the whirlwind of elation and torment you put her through and believed that going crazy wasn't as wonderful as she thought.

But Wednesday decided then and there that there was no way up from crazy. And while it's unfortunate that she's not the brand of crazy like Uncle Fester, she's been driven mad nonetheless. It's the only thing that could explain all of this and everything that's about to come.

Wednesday grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from her face. No visions plague her, and all she knows is that this meant her decision wouldn't end in misfortune and it wouldn't drive her down a lonely path.

"Enid's not expecting me back tonight," Wednesday told you as she dragged you over to your bed. Her succinct tone leaves no room for you to ask any questions.

"Um, okay?" You said anyway, thrown off by her response and feeling exhaustion saw at your bones, dragging the invisible knife back and forth.

Wednesday guided you to get into bed, and you complied. Resignation settled over you as you rested your head on your pillow. It was cold again with you being away from it, but it brought no comfort.

You lay facing the wall, about to pull the blanket up to your chin, when you heard something drop against the floor. You turned your head and saw that Wednesday had set her backpack down, and now she was zipping off her sweater, hanging it on the pole of your bed frame, leaving her in her black long-sleeve.

Wednesday took her shoes off before using every bit of her vulnerability to steadily and carefully climb into bed with you. It was dark, with only a little light from the moonlight shining just barely into the room, and you could make out the barest hint of her features and knew she was staring intently at you, trying to ascertain if this was a boundary both of you could bear to cross.

Her touch was slow and hesitant, revealing this was something she's never done before, but the moment you were in her arms, you clicked into place like a puzzle piece.

Wednesday was cool against your body, but she was warming from your touch and shared heat trapped under the blanket. She smelt like rain and dry leaves, and you felt like you were going insane. You buried your face into her neck.

Wednesday wrapped her arms around you, holding you close, allowing the things she's been desiring for a while to come to fruition. She couldn't tell if this was making her saner or driving her closer to insanity.

It was deliriously pleasant.

"Who said you're not mine?" Wednesday muttered into the shell of your ear.

It's suddenly not enough, and Wednesday now knew the answer was that it was driving her closer to insanity.

Wednesday pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes that were so tired just moments ago. The dark circles remained, but you were wide awake, speckles of oblivion in your eyes.

Despite how everything else changed as you became sleep deprived, your lips still remained full and soft.

Wednesday moved to close the gap, sighing softly as her lips slanted against yours.

How could she feel like jagged glass, splintered and sharp, while you felt so soft, practically melting around her serrated edges?

Wednesday only pulled back marginally, cupping your jaw and the back of your neck. "Who told you that you don't already have me? I want names."

You couldn't even think straight with how her breath felt on your lips. You pushed forward again, pressing your lips against Wednesday's insistently.

Was it possible for reality to be better than a dream?

Your lips slotted over Wednesday's over and over and over. Wednesday tugged at your bottom lip, smoothing over it with her tongue before it dipped at the edge of your mouth where your tongue met hers.

It was dizzying, something that frequently happened to Wednesday when it was too warm. She usually hated the sensation of it, but, of course, as many things were exceptions when it came to you, this was one of them too.

"Your nightmares are inane."

You couldn't help but laugh against Wednesday's lip.

"I think I am actually insane," you grinned, and you saw a ghost of something similar on Wednesday's lips.

"Sleep," Wednesday ordered you, kissing you chastely initially but ending up biting your bottom lip tenderly. Her hands pull you closer, her lips resting on your forehead. "I'm here, so nothing will plague you."

The softness of Wednesday is unimaginable, and you're nearly skeptical.

"But—"

"No." Wednesday countered bluntly. "I'm telling you that I'm here and yours. You may come to regret it, knowing how...difficult I am. But you're stuck with me. Congratulations," Wednesday tilts her head slightly, brushing against yours, "or condolences."

But you could hear Wednesday's heartbeat, and it was dark, and you were so tired, but you were close enough to hear Wednesday's heartbeat.

Your lips tingle from Wednesday's kisses. You felt your eyelids grow heavy along with your body, and the way Wednesday shifted told you she was satisfied.

Nighttime could be hellish, but Wednesday Addams saw you—she always would. And all she had to do was put her lips over your nightmares.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x ofc #wednesday x ofc #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #mm: my fics

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alltheirdamn · 2 months

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 5 Nevermore

Chp. 5 Summary: It's hard to understand why everything feels so right. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, heavy kissing, unprotected piv sex, semi-rough sex, creampie, praise kink, (kinda) size kink, aftercare, fluff and a LOT of angst, light banter, lots of emotions, mentions of past trauma, brief flashback of trauma, another cliffhanger (sorry) A/N: Well, if you're here, I hope you're prepared for what's coming. A HUGE shoutout to @loonmartell for helping co-conspire the trajectory of this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as always <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in—

“Miss Smith?”

Your head jerked up at the sound, and the pencil you were drawing circles with fell against your desk. Bradley, one of your students, was standing at the edge of your desk with his test in hand.

“Sorry about that, sweetie,” you smiled, extending a hand. “Thank you.”

Bradley eyed you curiously before turning and skipping back to his desk. You dragged a hand over your face, wanting to crawl into the furthest corner of the world and never be seen again. Beth’s words had been plaguing you for days since you called her. Over and over again, they annihilated your thoughts, a constant broken record that you couldn’t shut off. You still had your nightly calls with Joel, talking past midnight and falling asleep together, but you kept making excuses not to see him.

“I’ve got lesson plans to make,” you lied.

“I’ll help,” Joel had offered.

“You’re a distraction.”

“I ain’t that bad,” he huffed.

The next night, you lied and said you were going out with Maria, which was an even worse lie since you were avoiding her at all costs. Telling Beth the news was one thing, but telling Maria was another matter. She was nosey and a bit too loud-mouthed to trust. The last thing you wanted was for the entire faculty to know your dirty secrets. Joel had to remain a secret—at least for now.

It’s not like you wanted to avoid Joel; you were just scared. You were not ready for this new territory, and if Beth was anywhere near correct in her assumptions, it only made you want to shy away more. The only problem was parent-teacher conferences this week, meaning you’d have to see Joel and Sarah…together.

The class bell rang, and your free period between classes began. You dropped your head on the desk and took a few deep breaths, trying to wrangle some semblance of calm back into your body. The final class of the day would be Sarah’s, and you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to see her. The blaring reminder that her dad had fucked you sore over the weekend still hung over your head, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for it. How was your fall break, Sarah? Oh yeah, mine was great. Your dad fucked me so hard I ended up having a complete breakdown.

Fuck.

You wanted the day to be over.

The free period went by much faster than you wanted, and as you watched the next slew of kids take their seats, you made a conscious effort not to stare at Sarah as she walked in. She wore her usual smile, the impression of her dimples digging into her cheeks. Some wild thought popped into your head that you had no time to recover from: if you and Joel went any further, God help you, you’d be Sarah’s step-mom one day. Your stomach rolled with nausea as you tried to will those thoughts away. Joel wouldn’t stick around that long; you were a lost cause. There was no chance that would happen. Right?

Clearing your throat, you rose from your desk and made your way over to the projector to set up the lesson for the day. Since the school year was nearing Halloween, you decided it would be fun to teach Edgar Allen Poe, completely forgetting you had chosen “The Raven”—which was about losing someone. This would have a bite to it that you weren’t ready for.

“Okay, everyone,” you announced. “Did we all finish the reading assignment this week?”

There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement, and you quickly shifted to the first few slides of your presentation.

“Alright, so who can tell me the overall theme for Poe’s ‘The Raven’?”

Georgia, one of your top students, shot her hand up without a beat.

“Yes, Georgia?”

“It’s about his grief for losing Lenore,” she answered.

“Good,” you smiled. “Can anyone tell me what other theme the poem contains?”

“Madness!” Another student chimed in, causing an uproar of laughter amongst the students.

“Okay, okay, settle down. Very good, you guys.”

You switched to the next slide, staring blankly at the words typed out. Lenore is gone forever. Something struck you as you silently read it, realizing you weren’t too far off from Poe in his grief. Although Bennett wasn’t dead, he wasn’t coming back. That fact hadn’t hurt as deeply throughout the last few weeks, especially with Joel around, but it still threw salt in the open wounds still scattered over your heart.

“In stanza two,” you cleared your throat. “In stanza two, Poe refers to Lenore as ‘nameless,’ which can imply that she has died, and he’s now consumed with grief. Where else did you guys find his grief prominent?”

Georgia quickly raised her hand again, and you motioned for her to speak.

“In stanza four, he talks about his dreams, which I think he means he’s dreaming of her to return to him. But if she’s dead, there’s no way she’s going to come back,” Georgia said.

Fuck. You felt the sting of tears rim your eyes and briefly paused to gather your bearings. Bennett left. He left, and you had spent years dreaming he would return.

“Good,” you choked out.

You glanced around the room, your eyes connecting with Sarah’s. It took all your strength not to break down and cry as she studied you with the same concerned furrow in her brows as her dad would do.

Clicking to the next slide, you exhaled, focusing on the following theme to discuss. Madness.

“Now, with the theme of madness, where do we see this begin? Obviously, the dreams can be interpreted as his descent into madness, but what else do we find?” You asked.

To your detriment, Sarah was the one to raise her hand.

“Sarah,” you sighed, nodding.

“It’s the raven,” she said plainly. “The raven is what drives him mad.”

“What does he do to drive Poe mad?” You questioned.

“The raven only says one word,” she explained. “And that word drives him mad until the end of the poem.

“And why does it drive him mad?”

Sarah shifted in her seat, looking around at her classmates before responding.

“Because it’s the answer Poe doesn’t want to hear. Poe doesn’t want to be reminded that Lenore is dead, but that’s the only response the raven will give.”

You were swaying in place, trying to hold yourself together as the memories started ricocheting back into your mind. Now wasn’t the time to collapse, not in front of twenty students staring at you, confused and concerned. You only responded with a nod and flipped the projector off.

“Good job, you guys. Now, does anyone have any questions on this unit? Any questions about the stanza format or the themes?”

Sarah raised her hand again.

“Did his madness kill him?” She asked.

“Who?”

“Poe.”

“Oh, um, no. Well, it’s a mystery, really. Some people say he died of delirium, so, I guess, madness. But other people speculate he drank himself to death.”

The class grew morbidly quiet, which made it harder for you to continue. No one else spoke up after Sarah, so you resorted to handing out the quiz and sinking back into your desk chair.

One by one, the students came up to turn in their quiz, and you averted your gaze each time with a nonchalant ‘thank you.’ When the final bell finally sounded through the room, you hardly had the energy to wave goodbye.

Sarah was the last to leave, and that same concerned look lingered on her face as she shuffled out.

That night, you didn’t pick up the phone when Joel called. You stared as it rang repeatedly, watching the light fade from the screen when the ringing stopped. You buried your head under the covers and tried to sleep, but then the nightmares started.

You woke up to your alarm, hyperventilating and drenched in sweat. Squinting at the morning sun streaming through the blinds, you grabbed your phone to check the time. Your fingers froze as you read the screen.

Seven missed calls from Joel

Two voicemails from Joel

With shaky fingers, you pressed play on the first voicemail.

“Hey baby, it’s me. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I’m hopin’ you’re just asleep, but if you’re up, please call me.”

Then you played the next.

“Baby, it’s me again. I miss you, and I’m worried ‘bout you. Please don’t shut me out, okay? I just wanna hear your voice and hear ‘bout your day. If you don’t wanna talk, that's okay. I understand. Just please lemme know you’re alright. I’ll drive my ass out to you if I need to just to make sure you’re okay. Call me when you get this. G’night, baby.”

You dug your knuckles into your eyes to try and force the tears back. Last night, you had the worst of the nightmares: the memory of something you tried to forget. You hadn’t touched that memory in so long. It was just the brutal realization you were truly at fault for everything with Bennett. No matter how badly you wanted to blame him, it was always your fault.

Glancing back at your phone, you rechecked the time: 7:35. Fuck, you were running late, and you really didn’t want to call Joel back right now. At least not right now. You’d muster the energy and strength to do it later, but you needed to gather yourself and get ready for work right now. Tossing off the sweat-slick sheets, you rushed into the bathroom and quickly showered. You couldn’t bother to put makeup on, so you opted to go without it and found a simple dress to wear. It was still in the high eighties in Austin, and a dress was the easiest option for the day.

Scrambling for your purse and keys, you ran to the garage to start your car and head to the school.

It wasn’t until you pulled into your parking spot that you realized you left your phone on the nightstand.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Maria questioned, sipping her lukewarm coffee.

She had nagged you into spending your free period in her classroom, demanding that you tell her everything that you had been withholding. You sat on the edge of her desk, your dress flowing over your knees as you stared out her class windows.

“Nothing, Maria,” you lied.

She said your name sternly, forcing your eyes to snap to hers. Her usual chipper demeanor was replaced with that ‘mother’ look, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

“Something is going on,” she pressed. “Could have something to do with Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

“You did it, huh?” She raised a brow.

You exhaled heavily, nodding your head—no point in lying now.

“We talked on the phone the entire break, and when I got home, he insisted on taking me on a date. Then one thing led to another… and yeah, we had sex.”

Maria squealed, clapping her hands and grinning wide. You stared at her blankly, unamused by her reaction to your words.

“This isn’t a good thing, Maria,” you said pointedly.

“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re finally putting yourself out there! Oh my god, was it good?”

“It was,” you sighed. “It was good—really good. He’s so sweet and caring.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” she interjected.

“But I can’t let it go any further,” you finished.

Maria leaned forward and placed her hand on your knee.

“Does he make you happy?” She asked softly.

“So fucking happy, Maria. I hate it.”

“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. That’s all I’ve been saying for years, and now you have it! Don’t force it to fail before it even begins. I saw the way he looked at you at the father-daughter dance. You can’t fake that.”

“I know. I know. I just—ugh,” you slid off the desk with a groan. “He’s too good for me. I’m still trying to get over Bennett and everything that happened. He doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all my misery. That’s not fair to him.”

You were pacing around the room, your eyes darting between the science posters hanging along the walls of Maria’s classroom. You heard her desk chair scrape against the floor as she approached you. She gripped you by the shoulders and leveled you with a heavy stare, but her eyes remained soft.

“He’s still around, right? I don’t think he’s going anywhere, sweetie. If anything, I think he’s in it for the long haul.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned into her, letting her wrap you up in a motherly embrace. She rubbed circles against your back, hushing you as you wept quietly.

The rest of the day passed by in a numbing blur. You packed your things quietly and headed to your car, ready to drown yourself in a glass of wine.

Joel’s truck was parked in front of your house as you turned the corner onto your street. His tall figure was leaning against the driver’s door; his eyes focused on your car as you pulled into the driveway. You inhaled sharply before putting your car in park, mentally preparing yourself for whatever anger he might unleash.

You barely shut the car door before Joel had his arms around you, tugging you into a warm embrace. You couldn’t make sense of it; why wasn’t he mad? He should be angry at you.

“Joel?” you whispered, your fingers twisting into his shirt. He smelt of cedarwood and smoke, the lingering scent of the workday still on his clothes.

“I was so fuckin’ worried ‘bout you,” he muttered into your hair. “Been tryin’ to get ahold of you all day.”

“I left my phone at home this morning,” you explained. “I listened to your voicemails from last night. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was just running late this morning.”

“Why didn’t you pick up last night?’ He asked, pulling away.

“I needed some space. I’m just trying to figure this all out. I want you—I want this. I just don’t know how to be fully vulnerable. I know that’s silly to say since I’ve cried every time I’ve seen you.” You laughed at the thought of it.

“You coulda just told me that, baby. I would’ve understood,” Joel sighed.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course not,” he smiled softly. “Had me worryin’ like crazy, but I ain’t mad. I know this is all new, and you’re scared. Just don’t shut me out, ‘kay? I wanna talk to you and understand what’s goin’ on with you. I told you I wanna work on it with you.”

“I’m s—.”

Joel was pressing his lips against yours before you could say those two words. The kiss was all-consuming and tender, strong enough to erase every thought in your mind. Your mouths moved in unison, tongues intertwined and exploring. It was dizzying to be kissed this fervently; the first kiss couldn’t hold a torch to this moment. You tangled your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, slanting your lips to open yourself even more to him. Joel’s hands twisted into the fabric of your dress that hugged your hips and pulled you tighter against his body. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock straining in his jeans, and he hauled you upwards until you were wrapping your legs around his waist.

Spinning you around, he pinned you to the metal of your car door, breaking away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. Was it possible to be branded by a dozen kisses? He left a trail of sweltering kisses over every exposed part of your upper body, and all you could do was pant and moan helplessly. To hell with the neighborhood and their lingering eyes; the world around you could collapse, and you’d still be clinging to his body.

“I told you I didn’t wanna hear those apologies,” Joel muttered against the hollow of your neck.

“What are you gonna do about it, Joel?” You moaned, his teeth grazing your collarbone.

“All I want right now is to hear you screamin’ my name, so you better invite me inside before I fuck you right here.”

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered.

“Wrong name, baby.”

With one strong arm braced around your back and a firm hand on your ass, Joel carried you out of the driveway and through the open garage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the bare patches in his beard. Joel stumbled into the living room and sat you on the edge of the couch. You clung to him, refusing to lay back, too afraid to disconnect from his body. There was something so addicting, so right about being in his arms—almost familiar.

“Y’look so beautiful in this dress, baby,” Joel breathed. “Turn around.”

You unattached yourself from him, spinning until your thighs pushed against the leather of the couch. Joel’s hands roamed over your calves, dragging your dress up until it piled against your lower back. You gasped as his fingers tore apart your underwear, the scraps falling down your legs and piling at your feet. It was embarrassing how wet you were already, your slick coating your inner thighs.

“Joel,” you whined as he swiped a finger through your wet folds.

“Use your words,” he hummed, slowly pushing in two fingers.

“I need you, Joel.” He curled his fingers against the spot that left you breathless, coaxing you to speak more. “Need it rough—please.”

You needed to feel how bad he needed you; you needed to show him you wanted him, even if it meant doing it without saying it aloud.

“Y’want it rough, baby? I can do that. If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you exhaled.

Joel pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to your mouth and smearing your arousal over your parted lips. You hummed as you tasted yourself, pushing your ass back into him. You heard the clang of his belt and the soft sound of his jeans hitting the floor before he swiped his cock across your slick entrance.

“Don’t be gentle,” you moaned.

“Anythin’ you want, baby.”

That was all he said before splitting you open, the fullness of his cock inside you robbing you of all the breath in your lungs. Joel kept his hips flush with yours, his fingertips drifting down the fabric of your dress covering your spine.

“Joel,” you whined.

You shifted yourself onto the tips of your toes, nudging yourself back until the tip of his cock rubbed against the right spot inside you. You mewled at the sensation, wiggling your hips to find some sort of relief from the pleasure churning inside your stomach.

“Impatient, baby?” Joel teased.

He moved against you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You had been in such a haze last time you hadn’t realized how big he actually was, but now you felt every glorious inch of him inside you. You let out another frustrated whimper, and Joel responded with an onslaught of forceful thrusts. Your body shoved further into the couch, your midsection rubbing against the edge every time Joel snapped his hips against yours.

Joel’s hand snaked around your neck, drawing you back into his chest, the angle of his cock spearing deeper inside you. Your wails turned to sobs as you listened to Joel grunting harder behind you, his fingers squeezing rhythmically around your throat.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel crooned. “That’s it. Doin’ so well for me.”

You gasped for air as the desire coiling within your core became agonizing and all-consuming. Your fingers wrapped around his hand holding you up, clawing at his skin as his thrusts became erratic and determined. You were teetering on the edge of euphoria, your body buzzing with pleasure.

“Touch yourself, baby,” Joel whispered into your ear.

You fought against your dress to find your clit, the instant connection of your fingers causing you to cry out. Joel’s mouth ravaged your neck, sucking marks into the skin as you drew tantalizing circles over the sensitive bud. It was right there— that explosive pleasure bubbling under the surface.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice strained under his grip. “Don’t—right there. Right there, Joel!”

Joel quickened the pace, your eyes blurring as your orgasm raced through your veins and set your nerves ablaze. Your sex clenched around his cock, forcing him to slow his thrusts as he groaned into your ear.

“S’fuckin’ good, baby,” he punched out, releasing your neck.

“More,” you heaved.

“Think y’can take it?” He asked, pinning you down onto the couch cushions.

“Just want you, Joel,” you said. Your words were muffled into the couch as you exhaled, “Want everything with you.”

You didn’t know if Joel heard you, and you prayed he didn’t. Your brain was lost in some euphoric haze, dizzying you and your ability to control your emotions. Joel knew every part of your body, like the back of his hand. He knew exactly what you needed and what you wanted, and it was so confusing.

But all your thoughts grew quiet as the lewd sounds of your arousal and his ragged breathing echoed around the house. Joel’s hand pressed into your hair as he pushed you further into the couch. Bent over this way, you were entirely at his mercy, putty in his hands, and helpless.

“Swear y’were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” Joel grunted. “You’re mine, baby. Mine.”

“Yours,” you cried. “I’m—.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as Joel seized up, choking out your name as he spilled into you. His body slumped over yours, the weight of his chest heavy against your back. The hammering of his heart matched yours as you both recovered in silence, the house growing quiet aside from your labored breathing.

“Too rough?” Joel muttered into your hair.

You shifted your face to the side, rewarded by his lips pressing into your cheek.

“Perfect,” you sighed. “It was perfect.”

“You weren’t lyin’ when you said you weren’t a fan of vanilla, huh?” Joel chuckled, pulling out of you.

You slumped further into the couch, laughing softly.

“I was talking about cake, Joel. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Sure you were, baby. Stay right there, okay?”

You heard his footsteps disappear toward your bedroom, the distant sound of water turning on and off floating down the hallway. A second later, Joel was behind you again, the cool touch of a towel making you jerk away in shock. He gently rubbed the cloth over your inner thighs, taking extra caution of your sore entrance. You’d feel him everywhere tomorrow, and you didn’t hate that for some reason—you wanted the reminder of him.

“C’mere,” Joel urged, helping you stand.

He pulled you over to the couch, curling you into his arms and bracing you against his chest. Joel intertwined his fingers with yours, his breathing evening out as you shimmed further into his embrace. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was just being around him, but all your doubts and worries seemed to fade away. It was just this moment; you and him with limbs entangled together.

“Tell me somethin’ no one knows about you,” Joel whispered.

“Only if you tell me something in return.”

“Of course, baby.”

You paused, considering all the possibilities of what you could share. You had forgotten pieces of yourself over the years, the layers of heartbreak and trauma suffocating the person you once were. You still weren’t sure if that girl you had once been was still inside you.

“I hate pancakes,” you said.

Joel laughed, his body shaking behind you as you buried your head into the couch.

“Pancakes? Really?” He teased.

“I just don’t like them!” You defended.

“Y’gonna tell me why?”

“I don’t know,” you grumbled. “They’re just too sweet.”

“So y’don’t like sugar in your coffee, and y’think pancakes are too sweet,” Joel mused. “What do you like?”

“Don’t tease me, Joel.”

His fingers prodded your sides, forcing you to shriek at the contact. You hated to be tickled and hated it even more when he kept you pinned to your chest with nowhere to go. You rolled toward him, squirming against his touch. Joel leaned in to kiss you softly, muffling your protests as you settled into his arms.

“Your turn,” you sighed.

“Hmm, well, I like pancakes.”

“Be serious, Joel,” you frowned.

“Okay, okay. I love watchin’ cartoons.”

You giggled, watching that grin stretch across his face.

“Been watchin’ them with Sarah since she was a kid,” he chuckled. “I still do sometimes, even if she ain’t home.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled.

You brought your fingers to his face, scratching at the stubble covering his chin and jaw. Joel’s eyes shut as your touch drifted over the patchy spots, your fingertips drawing circles in the places his beard disconnected.

“Tell me somethin’ else,” he said.

“I think you’re really handsome.”

It was a quick response—almost too fast—but you couldn’t swallow back the words. You glanced up at him, peeking through your lashes to see his brown eyes soften.

“Handsome, huh?”

“Well, I can’t call you cute,” you scrunched your nose. “It doesn’t fit you. I like handsome more.”

“I like it,” he smiled. “Call me handsome all y’want.”

You dragged him to your mouth, saying everything you couldn’t form into words. Joel moved with you, his head tilting and mouth molding to yours. He made everything feel so simple; maybe that’s what scared you. It was too easy with him—falling into this idyllic routine. Joel mumbled your name, pulling himself reluctantly from your lips. You chased one more kiss and settled back into his chest.

“Did you know it’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day?” You thought out loud.

Joel tensed up, his arms flexing around you.

“Superstition says it means your marriage will last,” you continued. “I’ve always thought it was funny, you know? I used to believe in that before my wedding, but after that, I figured everyone had lied to me.”

“Baby,” Joel whispered.

“No, it’s okay. There’s a point to this, I promise.”

“Tell me,” he urged softly.

“I think the rain was good luck. Maybe not in the way people think, but I don’t think Bennett and I were meant to get married. My sister hated me for going through with it. We didn’t really talk once Bennett and I got engaged. Everyone warned me about him; they told me he wasn’t who I should be with. I was so stubborn to make things work. He—he was there for me during a really awful time in my life. I thought I owed it to him to stay.

“But then here you are, and it makes me re-think everything. The rain? It’s still good luck, just in a different way. I wasn’t meant to be with him because maybe… maybe I was meant to be with you.”

Joel was painfully quiet, his eyebrows furrowing together as he closed his eyes. Oh, fuck. You had rambled out everything you were scared to say, and now it was biting you in the ass. This was why you were too afraid to acknowledge your feelings: the rejection. Joel didn’t see it the same way; he didn’t think of you in the same way, and you just made a complete idiot of yourself.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to pry yourself out of his grip. You kept the tears at bay, trying not to let yourself succumb to the heartbreak shattering inside you.

Joel’s hands wrangled you back to his chest, his eyes leveling with yours. You inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed away the rogue tears falling down your cheeks.

“There ain’t a doubt in my mind y’were meant for me, baby. I’m thankin’ God every day for bringin’ you into my life,” Joel confessed. “I know this is all new, but I promise to keep provin’ myself because whatever this is between us, it’s real.”

“It’s real,” you echoed.

“Don’t run away from me,” Joel pleaded. “Gimmie all the good and bad stuff. I swear I can handle it.”

“What if you get tired of me? What if I’m not enough?” You rambled.

“I could never get tired of you, baby. If anythin’, I keep wantin’ more.”

You snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his scent as you pressed your nose into his chest. Joel ran a hand through your hair, his fingers catching on a few knots left from earlier.

“What’d you mean when you said he was there for you durin’ somethin’ awful?” Joel asked after a beat of silence.

Flashes of the crash came back into your mind, or at least the ones you could recall. You squeezed your eyes shut as your nightmares began to see the light of day. It was a memory you never liked to revisit.

“Easy,” your mom whispered. “Easy, honey. Don’t move too much, okay? Take it slow.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh lights above you burning into your retinas as you tried to adjust to the room fading into the forefront. You were tucked into a hospital bed, IVs and tubes sticking out of both arms. Your head was pounding, and everything hurt. That’s all you could focus on. Everything hurt so fucking bad.

“Bennett?” You croaked, searching the room.

Your mom, dad, Beth, and Stella were all grouped around the foot of the bed, their eyes glassy with tears. Bennett was nowhere to be found. Beth’s fear-stricken eyes shifted from your mom to your dad before she bolted from the room.

“I’m going to go get the doctor,” your mom announced, turning and leaving the room.

Stella shifted uncomfortably and promptly followed, leaving your dad alone at the foot of your bed.

“How’re you feeling, peanut?” He asked, rounding to the side of your bed.

“Pain,” you cried softly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Baby?” Joel said cautiously.

“S–sorry,” you mumbled. “I don’t know if I really want to talk about it.”

Joel’s brows scrunched together, his eyes staring at you with concern. You turned away from him, lifting yourself from the couch. Pacing the living room, you stared blankly at your bookshelf beside your entertainment center, still collecting dust after two years. You heard Joel shift against the couch behind you and glanced back to see him staring at you intensely. Anxiety was thrumming in your chest the longer you stood in front of him, too many thoughts reeling inside your mind. You never talked about the accident; you didn’t want to be reminded of what had been the catalyst in your relationship's failure. Because that’s what it was. You owed everything to Bennett for sticking by your side through it all, and in the end, you weren’t enough. Nothing you did was enough to salvage what had been your life with him before it all.

“Hey,” Joel exhaled. “C’mere.”

“I—I need a minute,” you cried.

You bolted from the living room and went down the hall, gasping for air when you reached the edge of your bed. The room was spinning as you dropped your head in your hands, the nausea surging up inside you the longer you stayed stuck in the memory. You needed out of it; you needed out. You needed—.

Joel rushed into the room, falling to his knees in front of you as he said your name over and over to coax you out of the trance. Nothing was working. Your head was throbbing in pain, and you couldn’t work around it.

“Breathe with me, baby,” Joel whispered. “Breathe.”

You heaved in a lung full of air, only to choke on it and gag back the nausea crawling up your throat. Joel rubbed his hands over your thighs, the sensation of his touch jarring you enough to make you cringe.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he crooned, a distant echo of your dad's words. “It’s okay.”

The shrilling sound of your phone ringing pulled you both from the moment, and you crawled over the bed to grab it.

Beth

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I can’t—I can’t answer it.”

“Give it to me, I’ll do it,” Joel offered with an outstretched hand.

You practically tossed it at him while you crumpled into the sheets with your hands clutching your head.

“Hello?” He answered with a brief pause before he said, “This is Joel.”

Silence.

“Fuck, okay. Gimmie a second,” he replied.

“Baby, she needs to talk to you,” Joel said.

You stifled your cries before taking your phone from his hand, already hearing Beth’s frantic voice on the other end of the receiver.

“Beth, what is it?” You asked, your body shaking.

“It’s dad, sis. You’ve got to come home, okay?”

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x teacher #joel x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miler tlou #tlou #pre outbreak!joel #the last of us fanfiction #fluff and angst #so much angst

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maleyanderecafe · 4 months

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The Kid at the Back (Visual Novel)

Created by:𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖆 | TealCat

Genre: Thriller/Romance

The Kid at the Back is very cool looking and technically well done. I love all the character designs made in this one and Sol himself is pretty interesting at least that's what it sets itself up to be. All routes lead to the same ending though which is r18 considering that we basically see him jacking off to the main character's voice.

The story starts out with Darling Quinn finishing class. One of their classmates, Brittney tries to get them to join them for lunch together while the class representative, Crowe Ichabod comes in to defend Darling from her. Darling can then choose to go with Brittney to the cafeteria, go to the library or go to the rooftop.

Choosing to go to the cafeteria with Britney will lead to meeting a couple of other characters: Jess, a shy girl who follows Britney around, Deryl the friendly jock and Geo, the quiet cool kid. If the player has their own lunch, they will sit down and talk to Geo and Deryl for a bit as they have their playful banter while going with Britney will have a conversation with Crowe. In the end though, Britney's outfit is ruined by another girl who seems to have beef with her, before the entire cafeteria gets thrown into a food fight. In the end, Darling gets hit in the head with one of the trays causing them to pass out and end up in the infirmary. Crowe stays for a bit after Darling wakes up but ultimately leaves for classes. Darling ends up seeing another student who seemingly has had his hand cut and he gets bandaged up before Darling ultimately goes back to art class.

Choosing to go to the roof will lead to Darling going to the roof to eat lunch, only to end up accidentally eavesdropping on someone during a call. The boy, Hyugo, asks Darling for a favor to take his place as he needs to ditch his partner, Sol, in his next class to do something.

Choosing to go to the library will lead to them going there to read, only to find someone in their seat. There are a couple of ways this can go depending on choice. The one with the least interaction is sitting next to him then going to class afterwards to see him in the back. Sitting in another seat will lead to Darling seeing a commotion in the back where the guy is getting beat up. Here, they can either step in or chicken out. Chickening out will lead them feeling guilty when the two meet up in class, but helping them out will prevent him from getting bandaged later. Talking to him directly leads to the most interaction with him, with Sol getting more snarky with the player, and asking what they will give him in return. The best response is to just demand him to give them their seat back, to which he refuses and Darling ends up sitting on them, causing them to blush and start talking about the book he's reading, Edgar Allan Poe and well as what books that Darling has been reading before the two head to class. Choosing to do something intimate will lead to Darling asking if he wants a hug to which he makes a confused response and Darling will end up sitting next to him after a bit of awkwardness. They can also offer to buy him a drink where they can choose (the latte will have the best response out of him) before they head to class.

Darling will end up spotting Sol in the back seat (as the name implies) though will have different reactions depending on their interaction with Sol, to feeling embarrassed that they left him to get bullied, to surprised if the two met in the library etc. The professor will ask everyone to pair up and Darling is left to partner up with Sol. The two will introduce themselves to each other, before deciding who will be drawn first. Sol will have different interactions based off whether Darling declares they're good at drawing to bad at drawing as well as which route they took (and how much affection he has towards them.) So this can vary from him getting embarrassed that Darling is trying to draw him from a 3/4ths angle to, to him brushing hair away from Darling's face that gets them flustered, to talking about Hyugo and others. It all really depends on previous interactions. At the end, while Darling is leaving, Sol will ask for their number as a way to keep in touch with them for the project. Upon leaving, they'll also see a poster for the Hallow's Ball. Upon returning to the dorm and eating, Darling will talk to their other friends, Geo, Deryl, Brittney, Jess and Krowe about the ball. They will then text Sol about the ball, who seems hesitant, but ultimately agrees to go knowing Darling is going. The last scene is Sol masturbating to Darling's messages, implying he's done it before and that he's happy that they finally were able to talk.

So first thing I have to say off the bat is I really like the designs of all the characters. They all have their own charm and are unique, which I can always appreciate. I also like that Brittney isn't really like the mean girl she's depicted as she is considering she pretty much just asks Darling to come eat with them and basically only really fights when she gets attacked first. Kind of a minor thing, but I do like it. Small animation in the main menu is nice as well. One of the things I think is cool is that there are slightly different reactions to how you meet Sol when the two of you draw each other, which can lead to different CGs and dialogue, which is a subtle but nice way to give bits of information about them and more interaction with him without having to write out a bunch of scenes.

Sol as a yandere, well there's currently not a ton considering it's a demo, however, we still do get a semi good idea on what he does know. For one, we know that Sol has been stalking Darling for a while, given his comments at the end, and that he has been listening to their voice for a bit. I do like seeing his more flustered reactions in some cases, like when Darling sits on his lap or when they're drawing him, because flustered yanderes are the best. It's likely that he probably got a favor for Hyugo on his route, considering it's very coincidental, and it would make sense that he would manipulate the situation so that he would end up hanging out with Darling. Sol it seems has been dealt a hard hand in life, considering he always gets bullied or otherwise hurt by others. Still, this could also in itself be a manipulation tactic in terms of getting Darling to care about him, which would make him technically a Damsel yandere, something I would be very happy to see, since that's something that I would love to see more in yandere content in general. But yeah, other than that he seems like emo (gothic? punk? I don't know styles), and a bit awkward.

Overall, he seems very cute and the game itself is very well made. I hope we get to see more of it in the future because it does seem like something that does have a lot of potential in what kind of yandere can come later on.

#The Kid in the Back #male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #visual novel #ongoing

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kooktrash · 10 months

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the art of obsession | kim taehyung [teaser]

NOW POSTED

summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.

✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]

✎ TBD

“There is no beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.” — Edgar Allan Poe

warnings: smut. slight obsession. prestigious college. dark characters. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. MORE WARNINGS TO COME

“I told you, it might be scary,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”

“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.

You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.

Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.

He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.

It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.

“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.

Your eyes met his and he didn’t back down from the stare even as it intensified with each passing second until finally you said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”

For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, you gave him your journal.

At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.

A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.

A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.

His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.

The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.

Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.

It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“No.”

He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here

at 8:00pm.”

You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.

::.

here’s just a little snippet of what I’ve been working on bc I miss fall and need it to hurry up

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby

#kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagine #taehyung au #Taehyung smut #bts taehyung #taehyung fiction #taehyung fluff #taehyung oneshot #taehyung drabble

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rustytrident · 2 years

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beelzebub who has obscure knowledge because he cares so much about his brothers' interests, they become his, too – or, a slight beelzebub character study at 3am because i need it and so do you.

beelzebub who can name every constellation in the night sky of all three realms, who knows both astrology and astronomy, who has read all of belphie's essays and research papers, who was there when they were written.

beelzebub who knows how to play (and cheat, and win) about every casino game, who knows how to do fast math even if he doesn't really care for it, who checks the fucking stock market every morning to see if mammon's mood will be affected by it or not.

beelzebub who knows the difference between the scent of white and red roses, who knows how to properly do your (and his) makeup, who has memorised which products are good for his complexion and how many times a day he needs to apply sunscreen, because asmo swears that the fridge light hits him as much as the sun would have in the human world.

beelzebub who can quote jane austen and poe and shakespeare and euripides from memory, who makes references from books that were destroyed with the library of alexandria, who knows about every breed of cat there is, who listens to satan explain whose fur is the thickest and whose the softest.

beelzebub who will rewatch tsl for hours, who will carry boxes upon boxes of games upstairs, who will (poorly) draw ruri from memory, who will know how to play most games levi hyperfixates on and the plot from most anime he has rambled about.

beelzebub who knows even the most bizzare of genres of music, who can taste the difference between a thousand year and a thousand and one year aged demonus, who immediately recognises the jazz song lucifer is playing when he wants to spend quality time with him but doesn't want to disturb him.

beelzebub who, if you ask him about his interests, will reply that he doesn't really have any, who will search within him for an ounce of self, who will give up after a while because he is six beings in one, and he doesn't know if there's room for one more.

beelzebub who decides that it's okay to be a mosaic of his favourite beings, who finds out that he has been carrying seven in him all along, who gazes in your – a human's – eyes and understands why she fought and why she fell and why she tried so much.

beelzebub who, in his spare time, will go in the human world to visit museums and archaeological sites and long abandoned villages, who will reminisce about when everything he just saw was once new and shining, who will retrace the steps he took aeons ago, alone this time.

beelzebub who often feels lost, who grieves and eats and grieves some more, who carries the memory of his sister because he once read that one truly stops existing when they are forgotten, yet smiles when he sees red roses and shiny coins and old books and video games and cursed records and the starry sky, who sighs into your neck right before he falls asleep and promises to never forget the way your skin feels under his.

beelzebub who, without you asking him, tells you he likes flowers and animals, who likes everything the sun touches, whose eyes glimmer when you ask him to tell you about yarrows and their meaning and their colours, who will explain in a heartbeat, just for you.

beelzebub whose self is a wounded one, a fighting one, whose self is a memory box he just keeps adding into, a scrapbook of eternity's erosion, who finds happiness in the little things, in the simple things, who binds his family together.

beelzebub who loved and loves and will love until there's nothing of him left, until he is the last one remembering, until the night sky is no longer a painting, but just an accumulation dead stars.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #beelzebub obey me #beelzebub x reader #i feel like he has so much depth #and if he doesn't he does in my head #some people only view him as the nom nom himbo but good lord #i beg to differ #finally being able to let out the 2 year beel brainrot to real humans and not the voices in my head is fantastic #i hope this wasn't too messy #sing me a song // the song of our glory

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bingwriterxo · 1 year

Text

a love more than love

pairing: wednesday addams x reader

summary: in which wednesday breaks her normal routine to visit you

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 750+

author's note: i posted this on wattpad a while ago, but i really enjoy it, so i wanted to bring it over to this platform, too!

"Isn't this your designated writing time?" Enid asked her roommate, watching with curiosity as the raven-haired girl dug through her wardrobe, looking for a specific piece of clothing.

Wednesday sighed, drew away from the piece of furniture, and turned towards the blonde. "Yes, Enid, but more important things have arisen."

"Such as...?" The blonde knew it was a dangerous game to pester the other girl, but she wasn't used to Wednesday going against her calculated schedule. It intrigued her more than it should have, and she wanted answers.

"If you must know, I'm going to visit Y/N," Wednesday admitted. "It's been one year."

Enid's gaze flitted to the floor for a moment before returning to her roommate. "Oh."

A heavy silence blanketed the two girls, and the Addams turned back around to continue her search, though it only lasted for a moment or two before she faced the werewolf again.

"Have you seen my sweatshirt? The one with the zipper?" she asked, tapping her foot on the floor as she impatiently awaited a response.

"Thing dragged it under the bed the other day," Enid said, pointing towards Wednesday's mattress. With a curt nod as a thank you, the raven-haired girl walked over to her bed before dropping to her knees and reaching beneath it, her fingers finding the offending item. She pulled it out, dusted it off, and then put it on over her shirt. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Wednesday ignored her question. "I'll be back before night fall."

* * *

The cemetery was completely empty of anything living when Wednesday arrived. She wandered through the area in search of your gravesite as she hadn't returned since the burial, but it wasn't hard to find: your tombstone--a stark white granite and surrounded by vibrant flowers, all left by friends that had visited that day--stood out amongst the others.

She sat in front of the gravestone, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them, her arms wrapping around her legs. For a moment, she merely stared at the epitaph that had been engraved in the stone:

We loved with a love that was more than love.

It was a quote from your favorite Edgar Allan Poe poem, "Annabel Lee," and was a sentence that Wednesday had heard fall from your lips numerous times. It slipped off of your tongue in such an elegant way that it had seemed almost as natural to you as breathing.

"We loved with a love that was more than love," Wednesday recited in a murmur. She reached a hand out, traced the words with her forefinger, tried to ignore the feelings that were stirring within her. "I loved you with a love that was more than love."

Softly, she pressed her palm flat against the stone as though you would be able to reach out and touch your hand to hers, run your pinky along the edge of her own before looping the two together, bring her hand to your lips and press a light kiss to the tips of her knuckles. But you were no longer able to do any of these things, and she would never experience your fingers interlocked with her own again, and that thought alone caused a tear to slip from her eye and roll down her cheek.

"You weren't supposed to die." She pretended not to notice the crack of her voice, the guilt that was weighing in her chest, the sadness that invaded her heart. "It was supposed to be me."

It was Thornhill that caused your death: a single bullet had exited the chamber of her gun, and it had found its home in your stomach rather than Wednesday's. Minutes later, the raven-haired girl was left cradling your lifeless body with a horrible emptiness settling inside her.

"You loved everyone with a love that was more than love," she whispered, frowning. "It wasn't meant to end so soon." A sob threatened to erupt from her throat, but she swallowed it down. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, cara mia."

With a shaky hand, she pressed her fingers to her lips before touching them against the stone, a gesture that the two of you had made your own. When you first began dating, on days when Wednesday couldn't stand much physical affection--which was quite frequent--you would kiss her by doing that exact motion, and she often found herself returning it. It quickly turned into a normal act of appreciation, and the two of you found yourselves doing it on a daily basis.

"I will always love you with a love that is more than love."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday series #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday netflix

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 5 months

Note

Can I request a Xavier Thorpe x reader where Xavier is really affectionate towards reader & Bianca is super jealous. Like they’re all in class and reader sits down next to Xavier and he pulls her chair closer to him & kisses her and plays with her hair throughout the class and Bianca gets jealous so she tries to use her powers to get Xavier to like her again but it doesn’t work because he’s so in love with reader.

Please. Ily

(Girl idk, I just be daydreaming lmao)

I decided to add my own twist to your request as I don’t like it to be too cheesy. I hope you still like it

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Textbooks in hands, you walked into Miss Thornhill’s classroom. Your eyes searched for an empty seat, the corner of your mouth lifting when seeing Xavier was sitting alone. His head was down, his gaze focussed on his sketchbook — as always.

You walked around the table to get to the empty seat. ‘’What are you working on?’’ you asked, putting your things down.

Xavier looked up for a short second to acknowledge you, then returned his attention to his drawing. ‘’Hey,’’ he greeted. ‘’Just something I saw in a dream. Getting the image on paper helps figuring if it’s linked to being psychic or a regular dream.’’

‘’And which one is this one?’’ You peaked at the sketchbook, seeing an old house with a gated fence.

He shrugged, using his finger to blend the pencil marks. ‘’I have not figured it out yet.’’

The bell rang, signaling the start of the lesson. Miss Thornhill walked in front of her desk, the heels of her red boots clicking on the tiles, instructing the class to open their textbooks to page 394.

You grabbed yours and flipped through the pages, but before you could get to the right page, you felt your chair moving as Xavier was smoothly pulling it closer to his. Sitting at the same table wasn’t close enough for his liking.

The small gesture awakened a pang of jealousy in Bianca, who was sitting at the table right next to yours. Her siren eyes were pointing daggers at you, in her heart still considering Xavier hers although they had broken up.

After class, you gave Xavier a quick kiss before parting for lunch to meet with Enid and the other girls from Ophelia Hall to talk strategy for the coming Poe cup tournament. The Black Cats were going to win this year!

‘’For the costumes, I was thinking we could—’’

Enid’s words got drowned as you saw Bianca coming up to Xavier, her neck bare. You never thought she would use her powers on him to get him back — it was twisted —, but love makes you do crazy things. You weren’t too worried, though. Xavier was safe from her persuasiveness. You had made sure of it by giving him a necklace with a special stone.

But you were very curious to see the look on Bianca’s face when she’ll realize her powers weren’t working.

Excusing yourself, you crossed the quad.

‘’It’s not going to work,’’ you told Bianca, surprising her from behind. ‘’I understand that rejection hurt, but if you have to go as low as forcing someone into love you, maybe you should check your morals.’’

‘’I don’t know what you’re talking about...’’ She gave you an innocent look. ‘’Xavier and I were just talking.’’

‘’I saw you, Bianca. You were going to hypnotize him. But, as I said, it’s not going to work.’’

The siren narrowed her eyebrows, still denying what she tried to do. ‘’Did you spike his breakfast with a love potion?’’ Her eyes flickered to Xavier, trying to turn him against you. ‘’She practices witchcraft, you know that, right?’’

‘’Love potions don’t make people fall in love. It only makes a person infatuated with another,’’ you corrected, shutting her accusation.

Bianca’s mouth curled into a smirk, not letting go. ‘’You seem to know a lot about the subject. Are you sure you haven’t used one before?’’

Having enough of the argument, Xavier tried to break it. ‘’Bianca, that’s enough!’’ he told her, his green eyes more than serious.

—

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

Wednesday taglist: @rhaenyraswife @teaganthemorningstar @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo @wrldofsage @manofworm @supersanelyromantic @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx @mxxny-lupin @idli-dosa @silenzju @sweeterheartxamerica @renaissancewhxre @jordierama @lilppsblog @harrystylesfp @katsuki420 @ravenssh1t @kenzi-woycehoski @katsukis1wife @momoewn @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @lucassinclairsgf @starrrslove @marissapearle @sshesang @scarxvodka @illf4iry @leoluvsur-pappy @wenvierismycomfort @pedrosprincess @luvvtxinityy @targaryenmoony @icarly23 @red1culous @kattybug @slytherinambitious @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08 @lynbubble @pumkinnroses @under-seasoned-pasta @hoeforsirius @gizmodecaprio

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #netflix wednesday #wednesday imagine #wednesday #emptying my requests

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mncxbe · 6 months

Note

Hi, it's my birthday next week, so may I please request Bram, Tetchou, Sigma and Ranpo celebrating their s/o's birthday with them (could be anything.. from headcanons to scenarios to oneshots and from fluff to smut, I don't mind)? No rush, take your time, please!

omg happy early birthday nonnie🎂 and ofc I loved writing these hcs hope u like it too. I was planning to do smth lengthier but I got caught up with work and couldn't buuut enjoy♡♡

°☆○

Spending your birthday with them♡

𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒎, 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂, 𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖, 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡

𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒎

"Ah, birthdays. I've had plenty of those"

he's not really sure how people celebrate anniversaries now, so he has to ask Aya about it

his original plan was to organize a big feast for you but he ends up making you dinner instead

if you want to have a party with your friends he'll agree to join, but he'd much rather spend time with you alone

in the evening the two of you would take a bath; with bubbles and candles and then just cuddle and watch a movie

Bram is especially gentle with you on your birthday and right before you go to bed he's gonna confess his love for you in the most old fashioned, romantic way possible. considering his status in the past I think he's highly educated so he knows his way with words

I see him gifting you jewelery

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖

Tecchou would ask you days before if you want to have any fancy party and would lowkey be relieved when you tell him that you only wanna spend your bday with him

due to his job he can't spend all day with you, but as soon as he gets home from work he hugs you and spins you around, wishing you happy birthday

then he takes you to a nice restaurant for dinner

he's the type to write you birthday letters and leave sticky notes with little heart shaped drawings around the house

Tecchou tries to bake you a cake and asks Jouno or Tachihara to taste it, but because he uses weird ingredients it turns out terrible so he just buys you a small cupcake instead

BIRTHDAY FLOWERS!!!💐💐

as for presents he gets you anything you want, really. if you're not willing to tell him what your heart desires too bad he's gonna contact all your friends and ask them what to get you

he cuddles you to sleep and tells you how much he loves you, how happy he is he got to spend another year with you♡

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂

Sigma would panic at first cuz he dosn't know what he's supposed to do for your birthday; he never celebrated his own so... yea

when he researches it on google and finds out he's supposed to get you a gift he freaks out again cuz he doesn't know what to get you

but eventually he ends up buying smth small like a plushie or books you've got on your reading list and a box of chocolates

he makes you a homemade birthday dinner and decorates the table with candles and flowers hhhh he's so romantic

now Sigma would be willing to get a little spicy with you if you want it; he doesn't mind it at all. you want bday sex? ok. but at the end of the day he still wants to cuddle you♡

in the evening he probably asks you what you usually do for your bday so he can be better prepared next year

I don't really see him being keen on big parties so he won't organize anything of the sort

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐

he wakes you up in the middle of the night like 1 a.m just to make sure he's the first one to wish you happy birthday

if you don't work for the Ada Ranpo would get a free day from work to spend time with you♡

and oh my if you know his colleagues he would throw you a small birthday party with them (Dazai's idea ofc)

baking a cake with Ranpo for your birthday is a must. Poe helps him do the shopping the day before so you've got all you need and of course, you end up doing most of the work while he just admires you and keeps sticking his fingers in the dough to "sample" it.

I don't think he'd get you a big gift tbh; he has the "what do you mean sugar? am I not enough of a gift for you?" mentality. he's also so much clingier than normally

now two words: birthday sex. this man is wakes you up with head and doesn't let you go to sleep in the evening until you've came at least two times.

Ranpo is usually lazy in bed but for your birthday he's willing to do all the work; after all, your special day is only once a year♡

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd smut #bsd headcanons #bsd bram #bram x reader #sigma fluff #sigma x reader #tetchō suehiro #bsd tetchou #tecchou x reader #ranpo x reader #ranpo bsd

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januaryembrs · 1 month

Text

WORTH THE WAIT | Poe Dameron x Reader

Request: my sweet @happyhauntt says: and to counteract the fact that my last request was sad as fuck, here's a happy one!!! a wee fic based on the song 'i guess i'm in love' by clinton kane, and this one feels like it should be for poe or steven!! enjoy!!

Description: Poe tries to help reader overcome her fear of flying by giving her something good to remember

length: 2.1k

warnings: mention of puke (none just feeling of nausea) mention of fear of heights?

authors note: yes I did listen to Romantic Flight from HTTYD when I wrote this and yes this did heal the part of me that always wanted to be flown through the clouds like this. also sorry this is so late things have been HECTIC

Poe really hoped she liked his surprise.

There were very few things that he knew he was good at besides flying; knowing exactly how to tell her just how deeply he felt for her even after all this time being one of them. He knew he stumbled over flirtatious lines, not at all like the bachelor he once was, that his chest still pounded at the thought of her just the same as it did when he was soaring through the stratosphere, his stomach flipping when they kissed as if he’d done four barrel rolls on an X-Wing.

He knew he was in uncharted waters being so far in a committed relationship, that his usual rendezvous' had lasted little more than a few weeks at most, but that was entirely in the past. No one had even come close since the day he met her.

She had been his mission once. Captured on a First Order ship, Leia had ordered him and his squadron to go rescue her, had said she was some lord’s daughter of a dying planet wanted by Ren for information about her father. He had heard the stories of how his resistance leader had come to be kidnapped from Alderaan when she was young, and figuring she was just screamingly empathetic for the girl, he had done exactly as he had been told.

He’d had no clue that his mission would become his entire life within a few short months.

“I feel like this is a little unfair,” She teased, his hands over her eyes as he led her out to the hangar, the lone sun on their planet lowering behind the horizon, “You make me wait all day for my present, and I can’t even see it,”

“Have a little patience, Princess,” Poe said, his lips drawing into a small smile as he felt her huff beneath his palms, “I know you’re used to getting what you want in your palace, but you’re in my town now, baby,”

She chuckled, shaking her head as he directed her down the stairs. He wasn’t entirely lying. After she’d been rescued from Ren’s grasp, her planet had quickly declared its allegiance to the resistance and she had been appointed as one of Leia’s advisors. Whether it was her quick wit, or the love she seemed to drench every single person with, no matter who they were or where they had come from, Poe wasn’t exactly sure what it was that made her such a good leader, other than the fact she was so entirely herself it was hard not to favour her; a rare quality of politicians he'd often teased her.

She gave a sniff through her nose, trying to give herself some kind of hint as to what her gift was. “Smells like… oil? Did BB-8 leak again?”

“Just wait, one more step in front of you,” Poe replied, his eyes trained carefully on her high heeled steps over the concrete. His stomach somersaulted as he wondered for the last time if this was a good idea, but he couldn't very well lead her all the way back out of there empty handed. Reminding himself it was her, and she would never spit anything kind back in his face, he released her face gently, “tada!”

He watched her shoulders tense under the jacket he’d given her because he worried she’d be cold in the night air, and he could tell her mind was racing a million miles a second trying to make sense of what it was he was showing her.

His T-70 starfighter. The only thing, he often joked, that could ever rival her for the title of his beloved.

“Poe…” Her voice trailed off, unsure but not wanting to seem rude, “Poe, I can’t-”

“Baby, hear me out,” He cut in, knowing she was never going to be jumping for joy before he could explain, “I promise you, nothing bad will happen while I’m there,”

“Poe,” She said hesitantly, as he came around the front of her to see her worried expression that made him cradle her face with his warm hands almost immediately.

“They don’t call me the best pilot in the galaxy for nothing,” He smiled at her cheekily, and he was relieved to see her crack a grin then, though the fright lingered in her eyes that rolled at him.

He’d known since the day he’d rescued her that she had a fear of flying; when he’d had to sit her on his lap in that very same cockpit so they could escape the base together, when she’d screamed bloody murder and held his hands so tight he worried he might lose circulation.

Not the best of first introductions, and not quite how he’d imagined his two greatest loves meeting. Which was why he wanted to change her experience of the whole thing.

She gave him a tentative glance, and he fretted for a moment that it had all been a mistake; that his kind act coming from a good place had been one giant heap of selfish bantha fodder that he felt stupid for even suggesting it. But then she took a deep breath, her hands coming up over his own on her cheeks and squeezing them gently.

“Certainly don’t call you the most humble pilot in the galaxy, Dameron,” She said with a tease, moving past him to head for the jet, “Alright, help me up. My carriage awaits,”

He beamed so hard he thought his cheeks might explode, rushing past her to lift himself up onto the right arm the way he had done so many, many times before.

“My lady,” He stretched out his hand, all but yanking her up most of the way to where he kneeled, and he was glad he’d told her to wear her cargos and not the pretty dress she’d showed him.

Pulling herself up to a sit, she looked unsurely at the metalwork beneath them, “You’re sure it can hold two?”

“It did before, didn't it?” He countered back, hoisting himself into the cockpit that felt like a second home to him, his body sliding into his seat like a hand into a glove. He parted his thighs, granting her a space of her own, and patted the leather chair, “Actually, don't think about that. Hop in,”

She paused, uncertainty written across her face that cracked when she saw the hopeful gleam in his eyes, brown hues that had always seemed to watch her with pure adoration. She had always struggled to say no to him, especially when he looked like that.

Slipping between his legs, she hated to admit that she found herself rather comfy enveloped between his body and the dash.

“You sure we’re safe?” She asked once more, and his arms slid around her to grab the wheel in his right hand, the left pulling her back against his warm body that made her relax just that little bit. He kissed the side of her head, resting his temple against hers for a second.

“You know I would never put you in harms way, sweetheart,” He said, all trace of jovial teasing gone as he kissed next to her ear and pushed the button to lock the glass canopy over their heads. It slowly lowered down, hissing into a click as it shut, and he felt her shuffle in closer to his chest, “There’s something up there I really, really want to show you. Okay?”

She looked up at him over her shoulder, his eyes twinkling with excitement at seeing her in his seat, his co-pilot for the evening.

How could she ever resist?

“Okay,” She nodded, tugging his arms over her shoulders like a seat belt as if strapping herself in for the ride, “Okay, I’m ready,”

He chuckled, praying to the maker one last time that this would work, and switching the ignition up to a low rumble.

The jet rolled forward slowly, and he wheeled it around to a clearing in runway that made her think he’d told everyone to take the evening off just so they could have their solo flight.

“Okay, baby, I’m going to have to go fast at this bit, so you might want to hold on tight,” He warned her, and he felt her grab onto his thighs with tight fists, “That’s it, I got you, you’re safe,”

Not giving her much time to overthink what was coming, he floored the gas, flicking a few of the levers above their heads. She sucked in a breath, her knuckles almost turning white with grip, “Poe,”

“I promise you’re safe, baby,” He reassured, forcing the throttle down and they jumped forward as the engines kicked in. He would have been in the air by now if it had just been him, would probably already be doing a loop-de-loop, but he didn’t want to terrify her before they had even really started.

She squealed, a muffled version of what he knew she was probably holding back as they started lifting off the ground, and he sped up even more, the g-force throwing her back against him, and he flicked pressed the switch on the dash to start retracting the wheels into the underbelly.

“Poe, I’m scared,”

“You got it, I got you,” He removed one of his hands off the wheel and looped it around her waist to keep her secure, “You’re doing so well, baby,”

It was then she made the mistake of taking a peak outside, seeing their base quickly becoming little more than a speck beneath them as they sped off upwards into the atmosphere, “Oh my stars, we’re so high,”

He chuckled, kissing her hairline tenderly, “That’s a good thing, means we’re not in danger of crashing into trees or mountains or-”

“Poe!” She slapped his thigh, scrunching her eyes shut, “I can’t look, I’m going to puke,”

His resolve wavered for a minute, and he made the impromptu decision to yank the steering wheel down, forcing them to take a quick turn up even higher into the air, to which she tucked her head towards his jaw so she didn’t have to watch.

He wondered if he was going to regret such a bold move, he felt her whimper against his skin and Poe cursed the whole concept of ‘Go big or go home’ that he had been going for.

Until-

They burst through the clouds, the dusk air that had been growing dark under the smog disappearing as they cut in a straight line up, further and further until the cottony slew of powder white clouds blanketed beneath them, the way they had for him so many times before. The sun was still out this far up in the aerospace, syrupy orange, and almost pink as it met the pillowed floor, like they had flown right into a meadow of blankets and warmth.

“Poe, I tried to be brave, really I did, for you, but my nerves are shot-”

“Baby, look,” He cut her off, engaging the auto-pilot and moving his warm hands down her arms softly to hold her fingers in his own. The X-Wing evened out, the force barely feeling like a pull at their bodies anymore and more like a lingering jitter in their skin that could so easily be passed off as the engine.

“I can’t, I feel sick-” She protested, pushing her nose into his neck, and he felt her hands shaking with nerves that he gently stroked away. He chuckled, the sound reverberating over the apples of her cheeks.

“Just trust me, look,” Poe said, and she took a deep breath, as if holding back another complaint, peeling herself away from him just the smallest amount to glimpse outside the star-fighter.

Her eyes widened, sitting upright almost immediately as she saw the technicolor that had been a dull beige before, the world she’d known for over two years entirely gone, buried beneath the silkened clouds. Her mouth hung open, eyes darting over the teracotta hues, down to the valley of puffy clouds beneath that didn’t seem nearly as threatening as she’d imagined.

She was silent for a moment, and Poe had feeling that was atleast a good thing, but he was known to second guess himself when it came down to her.

Watching her expression with a besotted gaze, the sun’s heat glowing her cheeks with a honey kiss, he ran his fingertips over her palms, “Do you like it?”

“Poe, it’s-” She swallowed, not once ripping her eyes away from the oil painting infront of her, “You get to see this every day?”

He laughed, dipping his nose in her neck and leaving a loving kiss there, “Pretty much, yeah. I told you, it’s a whole other world up here,”

“How do you ever come down, I mean it’s, it’s,” She stammered, shuffling on the edge of the seat to take it all in even more, “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen,”

“I have my reasons that are pretty compelling actually,” He smiled, eyes washing over her face, trying to commit that expression to memory because there were very few times they were allowed to have something good in the middle of a war. But this was it. She was it. His little bit of goodness that had been so worth the wait, “Happy Anniversary, honey,”

#poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanart #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac imagine #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar issac fic

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zafirosreverie · 2 months

Text

"Would you go out with me?…I meant romantically" (Lovecraft x F!Reader)/(Poe x F!Reader)

for @stygianoir hope you like it!

H.P. Lovecraft:

He's been here for a long, long time, but he wasn't really interested in humans beyond the occasional sacrifices and tributes. There was nothing the human race could teach him, they didn't bring anything new, not even amusing for him. Until he met you.

He had been with the Guild for a long time, following orders, no matter how bloodthirsty or inhumane (after all, what did he care about the moral laws of a society that would soon disappear like so many others?), simply waiting for his contract to end so he could go back to sleep at the bottom of the ocean. But then you joined the Guild, and everything changed.

You were kind, gentle, a little distracted and radiated a pure and innocent aura, one that inevitably caught his attention. You know what they say, the darkness is always attracted to the light. He tried to approach you, the only important thing humanity had created, he needed to be near you, like a moth to the light, but it wasn't easy, you were just as shy or shyer than Alcott and Poe, which was saying a lot, and Lovecraft could see that his presence made you nervous.

However, he also felt that you weren't afraid of him, you just didn't know how to approach him. So he followed you around like a stray cat, waiting for you to get used to his presence. It wasn't his brightest move, nor the most dignified, but for an evil and ancient god, the prize often mattered more than the means, and you were definitely the prize he had longed for the most in his long, long existence.

Finally, after many months, you gave him the chance to make his move that he had been waiting for. He witnessed Twain's attempts to woo you, and although it bothered him, he had never done anything about it because you didn't really seem interested. Until one afternoon you went to him for help, saying how those flirtations and advances were really bothering you and that you wished the other man would stop. That's when Lovecraft decided to intervene, mark his territory and let the world know that you were the one to whom the eldritch horror would hand over his existence.

Listen, you knew he wasn't one for soft or cheesy talk, he just told you what he thought, direct and without embellishment and you had gotten used to it, you even appreciated his direct way of speaking because then you didn't need to try to read him or find out if the things he told you were true or if he was just being nice (you already knew he had a soft spot for you).

That's why he surprised you when one afternoon, while you sat in your study drawing, with Lovecraft's head in your lap, he opened his eyes suddenly and looked into your soul.

"Would you be my human?" he asked

"Huh?!" You blinked in confusion "I-I...I'm sure John already took that tittle"

Lovecraft frowned, as if the very idea was ridiculous and you were pretty sure he was judging you, even though his face showed no further emotion. You cleared your throat as an idea began to form in your mind, one that you really wanted to be true, but that you didn't dare say out loud.

"I mean-...you already have humans, what about the rest of the Guild? Or the people who still worship you?"

"They're not my humans" he said, as if it was something obvious "they're humans that I tolerate around me"

"You toletare me too?" you smiled a little, even as you felt your face blushing.

"I don't tolerate you. I actively seek your company" he corrected.

"…coming from you, I feel like that's an immense honor" you said sincerely, letting one of your hands caress his hair.

"It is" he replied, closing his eyes again.

You stayed silent for a while, your drawing already forgotten and abandoned while you simply looked at the impassive face of the man in your lap. Just when you thought he had fallen back asleep, you heard a soft whisper that you weren't sure if it was in your mind or he had actually said it.

"Would you be MY human?"

Clear images flashed through your mind, confirming the thought you had earlier. There was no mistaking the intentions of the horror in your arms, and as you timidly whispered a yes, you could feel as if an ancient, inhuman force surrounded you, warm and protective. The pact had been closed.

Edgar Allan Poe:

"Did she say yes again?"

Poe sighed as he sat next to Francis at the bar at the Guild base. It wasn't that they were close, he wasn't even completely sure he liked the man, but he was the only one in the organization who really had any notions of love and romantic relationships, so he was the only one who could help in his attempts to woo you.

The poor man hadn't been able to stop thinking about you from the moment he saw you. After all, you were the only reason he agreed to join the new Guild. After the disaster in Yokohama and Fitzgerald's surprising resurgence, the blonde had contacted his former employees again, in an attempt to regain the original strength of the Guild or even make it stronger.

As expected, some didn't accept. Steinbeck basically gave the man the middle finger, while Mitchell had decided to return home despite her embarrassment at not being able to regain the family's honor, and Montgomery had not even been considered for it. By the time Alcott had gone to look for him, they only had Melville, Twain, and herself on board (and Poe was sure that Herman had simply accepted out of a strange paternal sense toward Fitzgerald).

For a moment he had decided to reject the offer and wash his hands of Guild, but Louisa had asked him to at least just go see the new base, so that Francis would see that she had at least tried. It was a favor as "partners in shyness" that he had not been able to refuse. It was then that he met you.

When he and Louisa had arrived at the base, Fitzgerald had his back to the door, talking animatedly to someone. When he turned around, his eyes lit up at the sight of Poe and he quickly thanked him for coming back. Before Edgar could correct him and say that he was just visiting, Francis introduced you, and then his entire world stopped.

You were small (compared to him), pretty, young, your eyes didn't seem to be able to leave the ground and your cheeks were tinted a healthy and beautiful pink. Poe felt his heart begin to beat faster and he almost feared he had died, because there was no other explanation for being in the presence of such an angel.

"This is Y/N Y/L/N" Francis had said, breaking him out of his reverie "She will share the position of master architect with you."

The man had continued to babble further explanations, but Poe stopped listening again, simply staring at you behind the curtains of hair that hid his eyes. You were clinging to someone's arm, and it wasn't until he was able to regain control of the rest of his senses that Poe realized that you had, in fact, managed to bring two more members of the former Guild with you (although he never had the courage to ask you how the hell you'd contacted Lovecraft, or how you'd convinced Hawthorne to come back (honestly, part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know)).

And the moment you lifted your face a little to give him that smile, that damn shy smile, that had pierced his soul, Poe knew that there was no way in the world he could leave you. Not even Ranpo had been able to convince him to join the agency and abandon the new Guild. He just couldn't bear the thought of never seeing you again.

So he stayed and got to know you better. You two actually worked well together, and when Louisa joined the equation, the new Guild soon became the most influential organization in all of Japan (even the Port mafia had tried to do business with them).

It was easy to see the difference between this Guild and the old one, and for Poe, it was equally easy to discern why. It was you. Despite your shy and socially awkward nature, you were a little ray of sunshine to everyone, you knew how to keep a friendly conversation with anyone (as long as it was only one person, maximum two. Any more than that and you wouldn't talk anymore), help with their problems, you were a good listener and your silent company was always a source of tranquility and calm.

It was no wonder that Lovecraft loved sleeping near you, or that Hawthorne spent his afternoons reading next to you in your office. And for Poe, his favorite time were the nights, those in which you would timidly knock on his door and read his novels, those that he had abandoned in his obsession to defeat Ranpo and that thanks to you he had taken up again.

You had given him back a part of himself that he hadn't even realized he had lost, and because of that, he had decided to face his fears and try to establish a more intimate relationship with you.

The problem was that you just didn't take the hints. Whenever Poe tried to ask you out, you said yes, but then you would ask Louisa to join, so it was clear that you thought of it as a favor he was doing you, as part of the "partners in shyness" club.

Poe, being part of said squad as well, could never say no or correct you, so he ended up accepting the friendly solution. Louisa had apologized to him many times for that, but he knew it wasn't her fault.

"Why don't you write her something?" Francis asked, taking him out of his thoughts "You're a writer after all"

"I already tried, but I don't know how to write romance novels, and I don't think a crime scene is a good setting for a date."

"I meant letters, not a whole novel. Go back to the classics!"

That…that made sense. Edgar actually felt a little silly for not thinking of it sooner, but hey, it was better late than never, right? Days later, on one of the nights you visited him in his office, he asked you to help with something. But instead of the manuscript you had expected, he gave you a letter where he confessed everything he felt for you.

At that moment, you couldn't misunderstand anything, and all the kind invitations he had made to you before came back to your mind. You hid your face in your hands as you felt your cheeks heat up and apologized profusely for being so blind, but Poe quickly assured you that it was okay, he had still enjoyed those outings even if they hadn't been what he had planned.

“So… uhm…” he shifted uncomfortably next to you.

"I'll go out with you…romantically this time" you joked awkwardly and smiled shyly at him.

__________________________

"Oh, it's about time, you two," Mark joked when he saw you walking hand in hand. "Aw, don't blush, now that two of you are dating, you just need to adopt Louisa."

"Mark!"

#reader insert #x reader #imagine #bsd imagines #bsd preferences #bsd x reader #poe x reader #lovecraft x reader #poe bsd #lovecraft bsd #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs imagine #bungo stray dogs

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

Text

How OP Men Ask to Be Your Valentines (SFW/Fuff)

Some are short and some are long. Also they all read poems.

Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Usopp, Ace

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Luffy

Wellll….he didn’t even know that day existed.

He seen Sanji decorate the deck the day before with heart shaped tapestries and making love theme foods and he explained.

When sanji realized that Luffy didn’t know he then asked if he asked you to be his Valentines and he obviously said no after a following “what is that.”🧍🏽

Needless to say after some yelling Luffy went to go find you

It wasn’t the most traditional way, but Lord help him he tried.

He stole some cupcakes and cookies and even a balloon Sanji had put up in the kitchen and rushed over to you.

Unfortunately none of the sweets survived except half a cookie, but you still had a balloon though!

“Y/N! Tomorrow be my Valentines! Okay?”

Before you could say yes or no he shoves the cookie in your mouth and hands you the balloon. He’s so proud of his declaration you couldn’t be upset.

“Oh wait! Sanji said i need to tell you a poem!”

“Violets are red, Roses are blue, please be my Valentines or else…”

“….or else what.”

He just chuckles at you while squishing your cheeks.

You don’t know if he was actually threatening you or didn’t remember the poem.

Honestly you haven’t been more warmed in your tummy to see the slight blush in his face when you nod in agreement and kiss his chubby cheeks

9/10 would love to see again.

Zoro

Only knows about it because of how much you talk about the special love day.

Yet

Still manages to nearly forget to ask you.

All day you been hinting on him asking

“Sanji asked all the girls to be his valentines…”

“Pathetic.”

“…You don’t think it’s cute he asked them?…y’know…seems pretty cute.”

“He made a fool of himself.”

It irked you he didn’t even have a light bulb moment and just ask right then and there and ask. You would have appreciated it, but no.

Forgot.

It wasn’t until Robin and Sanji asked what did Zoro gift you to ask to be your Valentines and nearly smacked himself on the head for it.

“THAT’S WHY SHE WAS ASKING ME THOSE QUESTIONS?! WHY DIDN’T SHE TELL ME!?”

“CUZ IT’S YOUR JOB DUMBASS!”

Luckily Robin was going out to a floral shop and Zoro tagged along. She assisted him on what flowers to give you and even a card with a pretty gold necklace (he now is in debt from nami again)

You were in your room pouting up until you seen Zoro awkwardly walk towards you with something behind his back and plop the flowers and gifts on your side.

He then plops HIMSELF on your lap and buries himself in your tummy while wrapping his arms around you

“Read the card.”

And you do so

“Blood is red. My shirt is blue. Be my Valentines, but either way I’ll screw you.”

….

“I’mma beat yo ass, Zo.”

“WHAT! That is IS A WONDERFUL POE—OW!”

Usopp

Poor boy is a nervous wreck asking you (his crush) to be his Valentines.

All week he has been drawing you. You both took a picture together a few weeks prior and since then he has been struggling to draw you the perfect Valentines Day Card

Of course he draws you beautifully but that doesn’t stop him from being a little scardey cat about it

“Hey! Y/N! Uh…can i give you something!?”

You smile and nod. “Of course. You made a another contraption?”

He smiles timidly and shakes his head no before he got lost in thought.

You see a rose inside a pretty pink card and it says on the front “Please open!”

You do and its a small drawing of you, Usopp, and the Going Merry and it says:

“Just as I am brave and smart, you’re even more with your sweet, kind heart. It would be my honor to be your Valentines, and if that goes well will you eventually be mine(s)?”

It was written so funny so you chuckle a little, but you then gasp to see the art he done for you. It was so detailed and gorgeous in contrast to the tiny doodle he did inside the card

“Us….WAIT USOPP!”

Poor boy ran before you could answer

Luckily you caught him and let him know of course you can be his Valentines

And a little more too…because you felt the same way about him.

Sanji

Genuinely surprised why his birthday isn’t on Valentines Day but we move

Obviously Mr. Prince wouldn’t dare NOT to ask you for your hand in being his Valentines, especially since you’re his girlfriend.

He plans out the entire 2 weeks of spoiling you (more than usual).

He acts like youre ganna say no somehow when everybody knows youre not

Zoro absolutely cannot stand him all two week

Everything is heart shaped

The food

The snacks

The desserts

Everything all for you and everybody has to endure it

You swear his eyes are a Crimson pink now this entire month.

And by February 13th he takes you on the deck after dinner and hands you MORE gifts

“Ji! You can’t keep giving me—“

“Just read it.”

The night was perfect, he was wearing a beautiful blue and black suit lighting up his cigarette with one hand as his other was still filled with another gift. He even got you the dress you’re wearing. You felt spoiled rotten. And you were. And Sanji knew that but he didn’t care.

He’d give you the world if you asked it

You open the pretty card and rose petals fall out and it says:

“My love for you cannot be compared. My love for you cannot be tested. My love for you cannot be measured. Even until the end of time my love for you shall never perish. You bring me light, you bring me joy, you are what I think about when I need remembrance of what I am fighting for. You are the calm in my chaos. You are my escape. My love. My Mademoiselle. I love you. -Your Prince, Sanji”

By the time you look up he is putting his hand out to you with warm cheeks and a smile,

“Be-“

“Yes! Sorry…i just..YES I wanna be your Valentines!”

You were overjoyed kissing your now bloodied nose man on the cheek and he hands you one last gift.

It’s a fake flower.

“I’ll stop loving you when that flower dies.”

Fuck he was corny but so romantic with it.

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