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verstappensrealwife · 1 month

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Breaking the contract - Lewis Hamilton x Driver!Reader

fluff, smut.

approx. 1800 words.

warnings: sex, swearing, me not following any sort of time line.

a/n: I tried a new format with more "speech" but i low-key went back to my descriptive ways towards the end... whoops! ----- also i haven't proof read yet :P

lewis hamilton masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

When you signed the contract to join MercedesAMG in 2019, you had also signed that you “would not partake in romantic relations within the team”. That was easy. All because they didn’t say you couldn’t have sexual relations people within the team.

It started in August of 2019, just after the hungarian grand prix there were, of course, big celebratory events to kick off summer break.

You had held one yourself at your home in Monaco, inviting all the drivers, as well as some other people of course.

The house, nestled on the cliffs of Monaco overlooking the azure Mediterranean, exuded an air of opulence and sophistication. Its sleek, modern design boasted floor-to-ceiling windows that offered panoramic views of the glittering coastline below. Inside, the décor was a blend of contemporary elegance and minimalist chic, with plush furnishings and tasteful artwork adorning the walls.

As guests arrived, the sound of laughter and lively chatter filled the air, mingling with the gentle hum of music playing in the background. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the excitement of the recent race and anticipation for the upcoming summer break. Amidst the throng of glamorous guests, you moved with ease, playing the gracious host and ensuring everyone felt welcome in your luxurious abode.

“You know i deserved to win…” Lewis said behind you, you rolled your eyes and spun around. “… It’s true! I mean 0.012 seconds faster is stupid- I should have won.

“Are you not bored of your own voice sometimes?” You asked with a laugh. “Because I am.”

“I’m sure you could get used to it,” He smirked rather flirtily, “In a different context of course…” You looked around to see the rest of the grid, and anyone else who had showed up, to be having a good time, lots of laughs and well… free booze meant lots of chatter to cover up what lewis was whispering in your ear. “Look, love, I know you want something and it’s not gonna be the championship,”

“Oh Lewis, how you underestimate me!” You smile, “I know how to easily distract you from winning,” - he looked at you to carry on - “Well how about… every race you don’t win, you get to make me do anything you want! Tweet something, post something, anything.”

“Anythi-“

“That’s what I said…” You replied, cutting him off before smiling innocently and walking away. He followed eagerly.

“Well- Well- since i’ve not won 5 of the races this year so far do i get those prizes?” he asked, you shrugged and nodded. “And you truly mean ANYTHING I want from you…” - You nod once again- “Meet me upstairs?”

You smirked and walked away… towards the stairs.

And it carried on to 2021 before stopping for a while since Lewis had found- in his words- “The one.”

“The one” also cheated on him in 2023 and left him for you to fix.

Yes despite fucking, you were good friends with him before that and continued to be outside of your agreement.

He came to you first, immediately after she had left. He banged on your wooden doors and as soon as you opened it, he was on you. Kissing you. Holding you. Grabbing you.

“This is to make up for the last 2 years we’ve missed.” He mumbled against your neck as he pushed you towards the nearest surface, kitchen counter. “God how I've missed you— th-this.”

Your top was somewhere near the door, your shorts not far behind, and now you stood legs apart, chest against the cold of the countertops as he fucked you to no end.

The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, fueled by months, years, of unspoken desires and suppressed emotions. As Lewis's hands roamed hungrily over your skin, every touch ignited a fiery passion that threatened to consume both of you. With each kiss and caress, the weight of the past two years melted away, replaced by a raw and primal need that pulsed between you. Lost in the whirlwind of sensation, you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, giving in to the magnetic pull of his touch. The kitchen counter provided a makeshift altar for your reunion, bearing witness to the fervent connection that transcended words. In that fleeting instant, nothing else mattered except the intoxicating dance of bodies and souls intertwined in a desperate embrace. As the echoes of pleasure reverberated through the room, it was clear that this was more than just a physical reunion—it was a soul-deep communion of two hearts seeking solace in each other's arms.

In the hazy aftermath of passion, as the echoes of your shared ecstasy lingered in the air, you found yourselves entwined in a tangle of limbs and whispered promises. With each ragged breath, the boundaries between past and present blurred, and for a fleeting moment, you existed in a timeless realm where only the intensity of your connection mattered.

Lewis's gaze, dark and intense, bore into yours with a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own, laying bare the depths of longing and desire that had simmered beneath the surface for so long.

“Well…” You say, “What happened at home?” You giggle at the obscurity of this situation. Now lay on the bed- no you don't remember when you moved from the kitchen to here.

He huffed a laugh back, “She was… not the one.”

Sitting in the sweltering Bahrain heat, beads of sweat glistening on your brow, you impatiently awaited the arrival of your helmet, a symbol of the impending battle on the track. The air crackled with anticipation, the thrum of engines and the bustle of the paddock serving as a backdrop to the fevered excitement building within you. Around you, your mechanics moved with precision and purpose, their expert hands ensuring every nut and bolt of your car was meticulously inspected and fine-tuned to perfection. With each passing moment, the tension mounted, a palpable energy that pulsed through the air like an electric current.

And then, as the sun beat down relentlessly, the moment arrived. With a flourish, your helmet was placed in your hands, a potent talisman imbued with the promise of victory. With a steady hand, you secured it in place, the familiar weight settling comfortably on your shoulders like a suit of armour. In that instant, you were no longer just a driver, but a warrior poised for battle, ready to conquer the asphalt and seize glory on the track.

And conquer you did. As the lights went out and the roar of engines filled the air, you surged forward with a fierce determination, every fibre of your being focused on one singular goal: victory. With each corner conquered and each straight conquered, your lead grew, stretching wider and wider with each passing lap. The competition faded into insignificance as you carved through the desert heat like a blazing comet, leaving your rivals in the dust and crossing the finish line with a commanding lead of almost twelve seconds.

As the chequered flag waved in triumph, a surge of adrenaline flooded your veins, mingling with the heady rush of victory and the anticipation of what awaited you beyond the confines of the track. Tonight, amidst the backdrop of celebration and jubilation, you knew that the real race would begin—a battle of passion and desire that would leave you breathless and exhilarated, lost in the fiery embrace of the one who fueled your most primal instincts. With a wolfish grin, you licked your lips in anticipation, the promise of the night ahead igniting a fire within you that burned hotter than the desert sun.

As the haze of sleep began to dissipate, Lewis's urgent voice pierced through the fog, pulling you from the depths of slumber into the harsh reality of the moment. With a groan, you rolled over, finding yourself nestled against his side, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the confusion of waking. His words tumbled out in a rush, laden with anxiety and apprehension, as he relayed the unsettling news that threatened to disrupt the fragile equilibrium of your clandestine affair.

Beneath the dim glow of the bedside lamp, you sat up, the cool air of the hotel room sending a shiver down your spine as you focused on the screen of Lewis's phone. The harsh light illuminated the evidence of your indiscretion, casting a harsh spotlight on the secret world you had carefully constructed away from prying eyes. Yet, despite the gravity of the situation, a sense of defiance stirred within you, a stubborn refusal to let fear dictate the course of your actions.

Lewis's words were rushed as he spoke of potential repercussions, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that belied his outward confidence. In that moment, your lips sought his in a tender kiss, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes of unspoken longing and shared intimacy. “Calm down, okay, we will be fine.” You said, trying to reassure the both of you

“But they’ll think we’re a couple and–”

“And that's so bad?” You asked, offended.

“What- wha no no no! God, no. You are… great. More than that you’re perfect and I’d be very willing to break my contract if it means to be with you…” He stopped talking, realising he had said all too much. The weight of Lewis's confession hung heavy in the air, his words a potent blend of vulnerability and longing that stirred something deep within you. In the stark silence that followed, the enormity of his revelation washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you reeling in its wake.

For so long, you had danced on the razor's edge of desire, navigating the treacherous waters of secrecy and deceit with practised ease. Yet, in that moment of unguarded honesty, the facade crumbled, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to the tumultuous emotions swirling within.

With a trembling hand, you reached out to brush away the strands of hair that clung to Lewis's forehead, the touch of your fingertips a tentative gesture of reassurance amidst the uncertainty that threatened to consume you both. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own turmoil, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance that resonated deep within your soul.

"Let's keep this to ourselves," you whispered, the words a sacred vow of secrecy and devotion that echoed in the quiet space between you. Lewis nodded in fervent agreement.

In that moment, amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions and uncertain futures, you found solace in the knowledge that you were not alone—that together, you would face whatever trials lay ahead, hand in hand, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and shared understanding. And as you leaned into his embrace, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a silent vow of devotion that transcended the boundaries of time and space.

GOD I AM BAD AT ENDINGS FUCK

anyways <3

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miris-secret-files · 10 months

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It Was A Hard Day || stepdad!Madara Uchiha x stepdaughter!reader

Part 1 : Seize The Opportunity

A/n : First fic of the newly opened dark content side blog ! I'm so excited to see where this is going to go 😂

A/n 2 : Please tell me if I need to change any trigger warrning

Part 2 : And Never Stop 🎴

Warnings : Dark content, stepdad x step daughter, slight voyeurism, oral fem!receiver, squirting, grinding, dirty talk, infidelity, mention of boner, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

A fanart from Pinterest that was in my feed ysterday lmao as if they knew : HERE

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 1068

Today was a HARD day. Literally everything seemed to go apeshit today

First he had the pleasure of a police decent sigh. Not a lot of people were there at this time so he had to get his hands dirty

Secondly everyone seemed to need a plethora of details on specific subjects while he was taking care of important matters… a few more people died

What ?!? He said he didn’t want to be disturbed

But at the end of the day, the steam was reversed. A smile spread on his face as he read the note his wife let for him, saying she will go on a trip for 2 weeks from this day “That's one less problem”

But it didn’t totally alleviate the tension accumulated throughout the day

So it's like this as he's walking back to his room, thinking about jerking off, his hand hovering his half hard cock in his pants, that he hears a weird noise coming from behind his own bedroom door

He gently pushed the door, closing one eye to see better what was going on inside, thinking it was someone who broke in. And oh brother he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. But rather mesmerized by the sight before him

You, his precious step daughter, lying there, bare on his bed just before his eyes

They were directly draw onto the luscious curves of your breasts. God damn you’ve changed so much since you were little. He didn’t even see it coming and it hit him like a train at full speed

His hand on his pants squeezed subtly on his member as he kept admiring you

When he heard you moan it was the last straw and he decided to come in. You were so engrossed in your little game that you didn’t even react, acting like you were once again dreaming the scene

He watched your back arch subtly and that’s when he saw “Fuck” he mumbled under his breath as he noticed the shirt in your hand. The shirt that you were rubbing onto your puffy clit. The one that was making you so wet. His shirt

He found himself swept away in an internal turmoil on whether he should leave and go stroke his now hard cock as if nothing, like for the past few weeks, or… make a move and let go of all his inhibitions

Thinking about it, it felt so wrong. He fucking raised you after all. But then you when he heard you moan “Daddy” for him he thought it was so cute - even for him. And it just felt so fucking right

“I’m just helping her out right ?” he thought as he walked closer to you

“Daddy pl-please… I-I can’t c-come… I n-need you” you whined

His face softened as he locked eyes with you. You looked so desperate for his touch. And he loved it “Aw baby” he said as he took a scrunchie and kneeled at the foot of his bed “Open you legs for me. Let me help you out”

You obediently followed his instructions and opened your legs. Revealing you glistening pussy to his hungry eye

“Good girl” he said before diving in. Fuck you tasted as sweet as he thought you would

As he lapped at your cunt, the room filled with obscene noises of suction mingling with your desperate cries

“Mmmh Daddy y-you’re so g-gOOD !” you said as he plucked his tongue inside your hole. Trying to coax as much of your sweet essence as possible, making the knot in your stomach tighten

His nose can brushing against your clit each time he tried to stuck his tongue inside of you “My little girl tastes so good… much better than any woman”

He slowly started to loose control as he felt his cock throb in his pants. So he started to subtly grind it against the edge of the bed

Your moans and cries got louder and louder - luckily you were far from everyone else. Feeling how close your were he couldn’t help but put his fingers inside of you while sucking harshly on your clit. He wanted to see the ecstasy on your face. He wanted you to come on his face. Right. Fucking. Now

And you did, by dint of stimulation and his expert mouth you released. But not in the way he though you would

You filled his mouth with your essence, taking him by surprise. He moaned against your cunt as he swallowed again and again as you kept squirting in his mouth

Hi hips stuttered against the edge of the bed as he almost came, from how hot all this was

Even after you finished cuming he kept working on your folds with his tongue. Seemingly scared of being thirsty again

He pulled out from your cunt with a loud pop and a big smile on his face “You were amazing little girl. That’s so much girl cum for Daddy. I’m so proud of you”

You squirmed at his praises. Gently closing your legs with how sensitive you were

He looked at you a bit more, the stars still brightly shining in his eyes, before going to the bathroom to finish himself. You were so sensitive now and he only wanted to make you feel good. We couldn’t wait either so jerking off seemed better… for now

Then he went back in his bed, were you were still catching your breath. He stripped in his boxer and went under the covers. His long arms circled your little body and pulled your flush against his warm chest

“You did so well for Daddy today. Make sure next time to be as good” he murmured softly against your ear, making you shiver in anticipation

After all, your mom’s trip was supposed to last 2 weeks. So it left plenty of time to explore well… plenty of new things

The next day, you woke up a bit before him, his arms still securely wrapped around your waist as he gently breathed in and out still fastly asleep

Though you could tell something was different, no feel it. Press against you ass. His hard morning wood

And you couldn’t help but think “What if I just grab it and pat it gently ? He wouldn’t be mad now, would he ?”

Well I guess there’s only way to find out

A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🌳🐝 Again my requests are open 🎁🎪

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shattersstar · 10 months

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jealousy.

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x reader

prompt: you’re mine by phantogram

a/n: 2/3 <33 enjoy

—

The hum of the bathroom fan seemed to echo in your ears as you watched Jason behind you in the mirror. His fingers toyed gently with the fabric of your dress, trying to free your long sweeping necklace from the fabric. It had gotten caught, pulling tight on your throat until Jason unclasped it. It left no mark, but it seemed Jason couldn’t help himself when his thumb smoothed over the side of your neck before taking you by the elbow to the secluded washroom. The stalls were empty, but he still locked the door. Perhaps embarrassed by his display of affection, his lack of professionalism partially exposed to the bustling room. You twisted around to look at the chain now dangling from the back of your dress, huffing at the sight. Jason didn’t say anything as he shuffled you to the sinks, the lights around the stretching mirror were much brighter.

“This is probably the most aggravating thing I’ve ever done.” He mumbled, quickly meeting your gaze in the mirror with a warm grin. You returned it with an airy laugh.

“On the job or in life?”

He paused for a moment, “Maybe both.” You laughed again.

The sounds of the party livened up at that moment, a flurries of claps as the band swung into a faster paced song. You turned your head to the door, but did not miss the excitement. You were content with your quiet moment, Jason’s hands toying and tugging on you with care. He let out another huff before squatting beside you, you looked down at him, wondering how the chains looped themselves into the fabric like so, but appreciating the care he took in not to ruin the dress nor the necklace.

“You can just break it y’know.” You decided suddenly, watching him peer up at you with a confused expression.

“Okay, I’m not that aggravated.” He reasoned before standing back at his full height. You hummed, looking back to the mirror and taking in your appearance. You were tired, legs aching from standing around all night talking with people you only half cared for. The small group of friends you had come with vanished an hour earlier, and while you were content in Jason’s company, the night itself was dragging on. You were ready to head home, but appearances had you here for another two hours at least. And Jason might have been hired as your body guard, but he was also getting paid to make sure you attended events on top of keeping you safe. Normally it was easy to bear the smiles and mindless chitchat, but Jason had been so bold tonight, you knew it the moment his grin turned wolfish at the sight of you dressed for the casino event.

While he often lurked in corners, against walls and surveying the crowd while you mingled, he had no issue keeping himself close by tonight. Always in distance to reach over and graze the curve of your elbow to get your attention, or send you glances when someone said something of note. You were sure Jason’s close proximity was partially because on top of the fundraiser, the casino floor was open to their usual patrons. Slots singing and voices calling cards turned to dull chatter, as drunk bodies flowed through the sprawling space. He was on edge, but you knew it wasn’t just the event. From the moment he picked you up from your apartment and ogled at you without a care, to his brave touches, thumb brushing against the overheated skin of your neck and all, but dragging you to the bathroom to fix something so minute—Jason wanted a moment alone with you as badly as you wanted one with him. It made you smile, wishing the ache in your legs or the pounding starting to grow in your head would vanish.

It was a hectic space that had drained your social battery like no other. You huffed, bending at the hips to rest your elbows on the counter while Jason let out a low sigh that almost sounded like a whistle. “Hey, watch it.” He muttered, hands noticeable not tugging at your dress any longer. You dipped your head forward, nose almost pressing to the cool marble before you tried to sneak a glance at Jason in the mirror. You locked eyes immediately and a small smile pulled at the corners of your mouth. You were never one to challenge his professionalism so boldly, but you two were locked away from prying eyes, and you both couldn’t deny his composure was faltering earlier.

“My feet hurt.” You reasoned, earning a quick dry laugh. Did it really call for you to be bent over in front him when you could just take off your shoes or sit on the counter, no of course not, but Jason didn’t seem to be in an arguing mood with your flimsy logical as he shifted to your side. One of his hands smoothing over the curve of your hip before the other roamed over your partially bare back, flattening his palm against the skin. He pressed his thumb to the centre of your spine, glancing sideways at you in the mirror with a glint in his eyes that was anything, but angry. It was teasing and warm because while you both knew he did enjoy his job, Jason loved breaking rules more than anything. At his heart, core level—whatever—Jason loved forgetting his role as solely a protector, and being something more when no one was around. He wanted to indulge in a life he didn’t have access to for so long, as well you. Indulge in your beautiful body and dangerous scheming eyes. You felt so real and good under his fingertips, even if his touches remained innocent.

He squeezed your waist before his fingers brushed over the chain, “This goddamn necklace,” He grumbled, yanking on it lightly before you leaned into the movement. “Fuck.” He breathed even quieter and you grinned a little wildly against your forearm before pushing yourself back up. You stood at your full height and shook out each of your ankles before Jason managed to unloop the last link.

“Thank you.” You said as he placed it in your hand. Jason only leaned his forehead into your shoulderblade, lips pressing a kiss to the bare skin as a response. You were about to lean your head against his when Jason bit down on your shoulder for a quick second. You yelped and slapped his arm while he mended the bite with another kiss. You only waved him off with an amused grin, tossing your bothersome necklace into your bag before letting Jason lead you out of the bathroom.

Your quiet moment was over, senses overwhelmed once you stepped back onto the casino floor. Your friends were finally in sight, calling you over with laughter bubbling from their mouths already. You turned around to let Jason know where you were headed when you realized he wasn’t behind you. You felt lost for a minute, struck with a minor sense of panic before your eyes fell on him. A few paces behind and arm being held by an older woman who seemed rather friendly. Any thought of reuniting with your friends vanished as you found yourself being compelled towards the duo. Jason caught sight of you in his peripheral, sending you an unreadable expression that had you stop a few feet away. The woman seemed to notice your presence only then, glancing over at you which seemed to snap Jason out of whatever revere she had put him in.

“This is an old client—“

“Don’t call me old!” She teased, slapping the arm she held playfully and making something in your mouth go sour. “Jason was just telling me about his work since coming back to Gotham, you don’t mind if I steal him for a few minutes more? Old friends catching up and all that?”

You blinked between the two of them, half waiting to Jason to interject or someone to shoot you dead, “Uh—no, its no problem.”

“I’ll walk you to your car, you said you were heading out right?” Jason urged, any boyish charm from your private moment gone as he spoke in that calculated voice you had grown used to.

You stood there for a moment, nodding to yourself before boycotting a formal goodbye and heading back towards your friends. You did glance back over your shoulder, expecting to find Jason watching you, but he was leaned in close, speaking into her ear as they headed towards the exit. It made your jaw click, something inside of you turning icy cold. You didn’t know why that made you feel so strange, so possessive and annoyed. She was just someone he used to work for, and you were bound to run into an old employer of his. It all made logical sense and yet you were so undeniably jealous, your friends could read something was wrong clearly on your face.

“Hey, is everything okay? You look pissed.” One of them asked, you couldn’t even tell who in the sea of voices and thoughts rushing your head.

“Yeah, some old client was just all over my bodyguard it was weird.” You explained, trying to sound more confused than hurt.

“Oh we saw that, are you like gonna be okay? Safe I mean?” You only nodded, it was too much to explain all the levels of protocol and security Jason established for moments he couldn’t be near by.

“Well at least its out in the open now.”

“What is?” You asked, still reeling when their next words broke something inside of you.

“I mean c’mon, your bodyguard is so fine, like holy hell he’s unreal.” They all erupted with laughter, agreeing with the statement while you were surprised this had never come up before. Though, stating the obvious—that you were now accompanied by a gorgeous man—would bring up questions, raise things you weren’t ready to lie about. You didn’t even know if you could, let alone wanted to lie to your loved ones. And for how long? Your throat felt thick, too many variables swirled around your head to think straight. You needed air, water, your bed—anything.

“Yeah, I get that a lot—I’ll uh be right back I need a drink—“ You left without another word, leaving a piece of honesty with your friends before the conversation could devolve into anything more. It was true that so many middled aged women fawned over how handsome Jason was, how lucky you were too. Your parent’s friends were particularly insufferable in that regard, but it had always been innocent. Funny even, but knowing your friends had an eye on him, and old clients jumped at the chance to touch and talk to him made it harder to hide your jealousy. The possessive side of you that wanted to scream that no one would ever get to see the side of Jason you did, no one brought that out of him like you did because he told you so. You were the only one Jason’s ever been more than just a bodyguard for, and you know if you stopped paying him, he wouldn’t only stay with you romantically, but he’d still protect you.

You wanted to throw that in everyone’s face, but as you weaved through the crowd towards the second floor bar, you wondered if Jason felt any of this too. You knew what he had told you, and what you felt, but did anger and jealousy toil in him at the secret you two were bound to keep. Was it hard for him to see you dressed up and flirted with, to always be kept at a distance. You were always able to give more of yourself to him, the job demanded that, but did it bother him that boundaries he had to keep? You felt so incredibly selfish and blind for being so upset with him, for being so enraptured in your own feelings you felt wildly inconsiderate of Jason’s. You were beyond distracted, unaware of Jason’s presence catching sight of your figure at the top of the steps, or the fact you were stepping on the hem of your dress. You didn’t fall, but stumbled forward, one of your knees hitting the carpeted floor with enough force it could bruise.

You cursed, hands pressing into the ground as you tried to push yourself up before you even really finished tripping. One of the bartenders had made their way over, but you didn’t even acknowledge the hand extended out to you before another grasped your elbow. You nearly jumped at the touch of their cold hands on your bare skin, but when Jason’s concerned expression fell into view, your angry crumpled almost entirely. He helped you stand to your full height, keeping his hand on you while you kicked the fabric from underneath your feet. His free hand gathered the excess fabric of your skirt, lifting the hem to your ankles while linking your arms. He sent a nod and thanks to the bartender before turning to you.

He led you towards the bar, nose brushing your hairline, “Are you okay?” You pulled away, only minimally to take in his expression, find what you had refused to see before. Jason’s brows furrowed at your action, “What?” He asked, stern, but earnestly confused.

Nervous even.

You looked away, unable to find your voice as he let go of you. He pulled out one of the bar stools for you before taking a seat in the one next to you. He sat facing you, long legs brushing the fabric billowing down the side of your chair.

“Did something ha—“

“No, nothing like that. Nothing to worry about.” You found yourself speaking, hand darting out to rest on his knee as you did. You didn’t want him to be focused on work right now, and you knew you couldn’t ask that of Jason, not here, but making him worry pointlessly was just cruel. “Who was that woman?” You asked instead, testing the waters. You didn’t want your jealousy to bleed into your voice for the sake of your embarrassment and Jason’s emotional burden. He didn’t need to grapple with your somewhat unbridled anger at a person you had met once and one he seemed to have a good relationship with no less.

“An old client, like I said.” He huffed, the irritation lacing Jason’s tone didn’t help quell the anger he had nearly extinguished with his mere presence earlier.

“Oh…kay.” You responded tentatively, letting your hand slip from his leg as you turned your attention to the bar top.

He huffed again, “What?”

“I dunno know, thought you would have more to say. Explain.” You shrugged, trying to keep Jason out of your periphery, but he beckoned you with his intense gaze alone. The quick look you sent him made your heart rate pick up, anger rolled off of him in waves as your approach suddenly blew up in your face.

“Explain? Explain what? Myself? Did I do something where I have to explain myself to—“

“No, no, no thats not what I meant Jay.”

“Then what did you mean? Hmm?” You groaned in the back of your throat before turning to face him properly, your legs pressed into his as you looked at him straight on.

“She seemed really possessive over you and it bothered me. I wanted to know if you had anything to say about that and I’m sorry I asked like an ass. It was just…weird for me.” You explained, doing your best to hold his gaze and honour his anger. “I’m not saying I’m justified in how I feel, but its just how I feel.”

“What do you mean?” He asked quieter, leaning forward. Your brows twitched at the question before Jason specified, “How do you feel?”

“Oh, yeah, well, y’know…” You gestured vaguely, making him breathe out a laugh that brought a smile to your face before embarrassment started to settle in. “Sort of, equally or more so possessive of you.”

“Jealous?”

You cringed a little at the sentiment, but nodded nonetheless. “And I know I shouldn’t be, but my friends said something stupid too and its just like…your you and I’ve known that, but it was just like that reality kept slapping me in the face.“

“And then you tripped.” Jason added.

You laughed this time, “Yeah, then I nearly ate shit on the stairs.”

“Are you worried about me—us?” He mumbled after a beat of silence that felt like peace slowly returning to your chest.

“No, I honestly felt shittier for feeling jealous than actually feeling it. It doesn’t happen often and its usually not that serious, today has just been a lot, but I don’t know how you feel about all of this.” You wanted everything swirling around your mind to be aired out now.

“How I feel?” Jason echoed, something surprised hidden in his tone. It made your heart break from him just slightly, bleeding for him as it often did. “You mean jealous?”

You nodded, wanting him to have the space to say what he wanted to say. Instead Jason barked out a laugh, almost surprised you were bringing this up. Your brows twitched and you were worried he was mad again. You opened your mouth to speak, but the glint in his eyes mirrored the one he had wore all evening. Jason was pushing out of his chair and helping you out of yours before you could comprehend, letting him lead you deeper into the casino it seemed, some hallway you were sure was reserved for staff, but deserted nonetheless.

You leaned against the wall, while Jason hovered in the centre of the hall. It seemed like the distance was calculated, purposeful. You gestured for him to speak, but all Jason did was let out a low chuckle, gaze falling to the ground between your bodies while he shook his head. “Jay we don’t have to talk about this—“

“But you want too?” God—he was full of questions today. He still wouldn’t look at you and for the first time ever you couldn’t read him. It was what had drawn Jason to you, how quickly you saw through him and all his shit. It made him smile when he thought about it, but you wouldn’t be able to see that anyways.

“I wanted to be honest, it crossed my mind heavily that I was being kinda inconsiderate towards you and your feelings. Sure I hate the…distance between us sometimes, but I never thought about how it difficult it is for you.”

He was silent, the tense air swollen with your palpable anxiety as a long moment passed. Jason stood staring at the floor, while you reeled, had you pissed him off, had he never considered this, had you misread something?

And then he spoke, low and slow, like he was unsure how the words fit in his mouth. “Baby I spend every second jealous at these fucking events. Every person who gets to be around you for longer than five minutes is someone I hope tests me—and that woman? Don’t ever be jealous of her, or any client that I used to work for, their the reason I left Gotham and,” He took a breath, shifting closer while you stared at Jason with wide eyes. “And you’re the reason I stay.”

You opened your mouth once, than twice before realizing you didn’t have the words to respond. Only a saucer eyed stare, and heavy breaths were offered. Jason took that as an invitation to keep going, his dress shoes nudging yours as he moved closer. “And its sweet—so fucking sweet—you’re worried about me, about how I feel, but sweetheart, as long as I’m the person taking you home—I don’t care,” Jason crowded your space, nose brushing yours as your hands found the lapels of his suit. You smoothed over them, trying so hard not to wrinkle the fabric in yours fists as his nose brushed your bottom lip.

“No one gets to see the side of you that I do.” You murmured, urging his eyes back up to yours. They were alight with something dangerous, but his grin, crooked and conniving told you enough. You had hit the mark, had understood what he felt so clearly because you felt it too.

He breathed out a chuckle, “Exactly.”

Then Jason kissed you, and while you two had kissed before, this was something else, something words felt too simple for. It was a travesty to have to keep Jason at a distance when he felt so real under your palms and his mouth tasted so good against yours. His hand found its way to your jaw, tilting your head back as his fingers massaged the skin there. You were pressed into the wall, but didn’t mind the cold against your back as he continued to kiss you open. His teeth found your bottom lip, tugging before he mended his harshness with an opened mouth kiss. He licked his way into your mouth then, his hold on your jaw tightening ever so slightly as he let himself explore, kiss you without inhibition or care. You knew this moment wouldn’t last, that the job would come first and you’d spend another hour miserable and wanton.

The thought threatened to sour your mood, but you were to wrapped up in Jason’s mouth moving against yours to let it. You fumbled with your clutch as he continued his assault, pressing softer kisses to your lips before trailing to where his fingers held onto you. His tongue slid over your jaw, making your knees shudder before he left a wet kiss there. You managed to open your bag without sight, Jason preoccupied with his ministrations to notice you wound the long chain of your necklace around your hand a few times before yanking with the other one. The twinkling sound of gold loops raining onto the marble floor broke Jason out of his revere as your necklace seemingly shattered. He stepped back, as more fell, splayed out on the floor and individual or broken sections of the chain now caught in the skirt.

Jason’s gaze snapped from the ground to your eyes. “You didn—“

“I did, lets go tip whoever has to clean this an obscene amount of money and go home.” You stepped over the mess, trying not to laugh as more loops rolled over your dress. Jason stayed silent as he wrapped his hand around your arm before following diligently behind you as you made your last rounds of the night. Pointedly avoiding your friends who you just needed a breather from before apologizing to the casino manager for the mess. You played your part perfectly, garnering all the sympathy and sad farewells before deflating into Jason’s car. You glanced over to him as he got in the driver seat, wasting no time before his hand found your thigh and the car was cruising down the highway. You placed your hand over his and felt all the tension drift from your shoulders as Jason’s words rang through your head. This was all he needed after every night, you real underneath his palm and next to him in his car, spending the night god knows where, together.

#yikes this one is long #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc x reader #dc imagine #writing #bodyguard au

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outofmydepthatapublicbeach · 3 months

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hiii can u write julien x reader where julien has a crush on reader? like maybe reader is maybe a singer at the grammys and catches juliens eye

pls pls and thank u

jj chats: hiii!! i love this idea so so much and i am so happy i got to write it!!! i decided to do some headcannons and a bit of a blurb! but its mostly tailored to this specific scenario so if anyone wants a more general julien with a crush headcannons i can totally write that! just lmk!! also tysm for the request dear ilysm <333

warnings: RPF, no use of y/n, julien is very awkward!!!

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

So lets say that Julien is aware of who you are, she knows your music, but never knew your face. She was crazy excited about you performing at the grammys.

She’s at the table when your name gets announced along with the 2 tracks you are playing and she immediately recognizes them.

She gets all giddy because she’s never seen you before and is excited for your set.

You play a mash up of two ballads where your vocals are incredible, your standing center stage. (I’m kind of picturing it to look like Olivia Rodgrigo’s set at the grammys)

Whatever outfit you’re wearing is a beautiful mix of emerald green and gold. Your dress/suit/whatever you are wearing has a very flowy vibe to it.

Anyway Julien sees you as the spotlight shines on you and her heart stops. You were more beautiful than she had ever thought.

Then you open your mouth to sing and it's like a kaleidoscope of butterflies was released in her stomach.

Phoebe notices her awestruck state and whispers to Lucy.

Yk they made a plan to make sure you met that night.

When your performance ends you smile towards the crowd of brilliant musicians, lyricists and producers. The room erupts in cheers and applause, your head gets a little light as you take everything in. Everything that you’ve worked for has come to this, and you’ve finally made it, singing in a room full of all your biggest idols.

When the stage darkens, a crew member meets you and takes you back to a dressing room, helping you get back into your original grammy outfit. As you walk back to your seat you spot a woman with platinum blond hair in a white suit standing near your table, seemingly waiting for someone.

As you approach her you get a better look at who she was. Exclaiming “Phoebe!! I’m so glad to see you!” You pull her into a hug.

Pulling away, Phoebe replies “Hey dude! It’s been so long!”

“Way too long! Oh congrats on you and the boys wins tonight! I’m so happy for y’all!” You smile, then noticing the other two that make up Boygenius approach, Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker. Lucy introduces herself and Julien, Julien stands squashed between Lucy and Phoebe. She smiles at you shyly, a light pink flushes her face.

“Your performance was out of this world, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing like that! Isn’t that right Julien?” Phoebe asks, nudging her bandmate with her elbow.

Julien sputters a little bit before replying “Your voice is so pretty.” Once the words leave her mouth her eyes widen a bit, as if she can’t believe she just said that. Phoebe and Lucy share a look before Phoebe moves to squeeze your upper arm.

“Me and Luce are gonna go mingle, have fun kids,” She turns away from you but you can almost swear you saw her wink at Julien before walking away.

“I don’t think I’ve never formally introduced myself, I’m-”

“I know you,” Julien cuts you off, horror fills her face at her ill choice of words, “I mean I don’t know-know you, but I know of you! I like you! Fuck I mean I like your music, its really good! And your voice is amazing. It's so pretty! I’m rambling aren’t I?” The tattooed woman sighs, her face flushing again, this time a much brighter red.

“Yes, yes you are. But it's okay Julien, it's cute.” You giggle, reaching towards your purse to pull out your phone, pulling up messages. “Can I have your number, I’d love to talk to you longer but I gotta go visit someone before we have to be back in out seats. Maybe we could get coffee sometime and talk?” You hand the phone to Julien, gently placing it in her open palms.

“Really?” she waits for you to nod before putting her number in, hands shaking as she types. “Thank you! And best of luck to you tonight! Hopefully I’ll see you around.” Julien says. You smile and grab Julien’s hand, squeezing it lightly. Once you let go she's off towards her table again.

I could totally see Julien being so nervous around you that she types in her number wrong. So wehn you get home and call her and some random 39 year old guy from Alabama replies you are taken a little off guard.

But it's all fixed when you text Phoebe explaining the situation.

Phoebe def made fun of Julien for that all the time now.

#julien baker x reader #julien baker fanfic #boygenius x reader #julien baker fluff #grammys 2024 #lesbians #wlw #sapphic #lgbtq #julien baker x singer!reader #singer!reader #boygenius au

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watermelonsugacry · 2 years

Note

OMG PLZ WRITE PT 2 TO DONUTS PLEASE!!!!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Venice Film Festival

A/N: the people have spoken!

SUMMARY: YN is Harry's date to the premiere of Don't Worry Darling. (3k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

(Part 1 Here!) Donuts // SINCE 2010 masterlist

Harry is good under pressure, he’s been trained for almost every situation for every problem his line of work throws his way since he was 16 years old. He can flash a dimpled smile in front of a camera and gracefully swerve his way out of an inappropriate question.

Movie premieres were supposed to be an exciting event. It’s the time when directors get to display their newest project, actors get to see mingle and have a good time, and where everyone can see their hard work come to fruition. It’s supposed to be a lively, joyful experience.

Key words: supposed to be.

With all of the drama that’s surrounding the director, the actors and some of the content in the film, this was going to be an interesting event for not only the people involved but for everyone watching.

So yeah, Harry’s good under pressure but the only person who can see through the cracks in his mask is YN. When she’s around, the world and its troubles seem to fade into the background, her light breaking through even in the darkest places. She grounds him in the toughest storms. She encourages and humbles him in ways like no one else can. YN was truly made for him and it’s a fact that Harry still has trouble wrapping his head around.

Add in the fact that their relationship has been a public piece of information shared almost two years ago, there was no questioning the fact that she’s was going to be Harry’s official date to the Venice Film Festival.

“Ready, baby?” YN gives her love an encouraging smile. The couple just pulled up into the queue line up of cars, slowly inching their way for their drop off at the red carpet.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Harry sighs out, giving her a small smile in return. His hand leaves its resting place on her exposed thigh and intertwines it with hers. “Thank you for being here with me. S’so much better with you by my side.”

“Eh, had nothing better to do on a Monday night anyways.” YN teases, hoping to ease some of his nerves. She’s relieved when he lets out a chuckle. “But seriously. M’always here for yeh, always.”

Harry can’t find the words to express his gratitude for the woman next to him. Going against her make-up artist's playful warning of no smooching in fear of messing up his work, Harry gently cups her jaw and leans over to place his lips on hers. She giggles against his lips but turns her head to deepen the kiss, placing her hands on his chest.

“Sorry,” He smiles once he reluctantly pulled away, now only one car away from having to exit the vehicle. “Just wasn’t gonna be able to do that for a while.”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t complaining. Plus m’looking fabulous right now so, how can blame yeh?” YN pinches at his lips, trying to wipe off some of the gloss that transferred over from their kiss. He just furrows his eyes at her in disbelief, like it’s hitting him yet again that she’s his. That she agreed to marry him.

“How did I manage to snag you, huh?”

“Beats me. I’m just in it for your money. Just letting you know that now.”

Harry lovingly presses his lips to her hand by his mouth, “I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

The knock on Harry’s car window startles them both, he almost forgot he had to go to this event altogether by YN’s distractions. It hits him know that she succeeded because his nerves have been shot down to a zero. With one final kiss to her knuckles, he slides his Gucci sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose gives the escort outside the ‘go’ signal.

Harry ducks out from the sleek car and YN can already hear the fans and paparazzi outside begin to yell and scream at the sight of him. But the noise only grows further when Harry extends his hand out to his fiancé. She grips his hand before gracefully sliding out of the vehicle next to him.

There's a tiny part of him that breaks inside at the fact that she's not wearing her enagagement ring, but they both knew that all eyes were going to be hyper-focused on them today and their fans surely would have discovered that one of her everyday rings looks more wedding like than others.

But it's certainly made up for when she gives him that golden smile that never fails to make him weak in the knees. As they pose outside the car for their initial pictures for the night, Olivia is posing for her own pictures on the red carpet only a couple of feet away. When she looks over at them, the cameramen capture her smile faltering at the happy couple, clearly not expecting Harry to have brought his significant other to ‘her’ premiere.

No one can deny the fact that they truly are the power couple of the century. They both look absolutely fabulous as Harry leads them onto the red carpet, her hand securely tucked into the crook of his arm while the holds the length of her custom Gucci dress. They naturally move with one another as they begin to stand and pose for photos, Harry snaking his arm around her waist for his hand to rest on her hip.

When he feels her hand on the bottom of his back, he's reminded of when he was 19 years old, posing with the rest of the band on some red carpet in front of flashing camera. He wished and longed for the day that she could be his. That one day he didn't have to feel guilty for the butterflies swirling around his tummy. That he didn't have to feel bad for blushing at her smiling at him, for being in love with his band mate.

Now with a smirk on his face, he gladly pulls her in closer and relishes in the way she looks up at him and gives him a knowing smile. They barely notice the way the camera flashes intensify when he brings his lips to her temple for a quick kiss, capturing the physical affection the couple like to keep private.

Since things have drastically changed since being in the band and now being solo artists, posing for pictures has partially become a separate activity for the two. He reluctantly has to let go of her hand as they both have to take some pictures by themselves.

But he can't help himself from glancing over at his love who’s only an arm’s length away from him. She's gracefully shifting her head at the various photographers. She holds onto the top part of the slit of her dress by her hips, working with the fabric of her outfit to best present herself. How can he not look at her while she has her thigh is deliciously out on display for everyone to see?

He doesn’t care if he gets told off later by his or her managers because, after barely one around of photos, Harry can’t take it much longer. He walks the short distance between them and snakes his arm back around her waist once again. It surprises her and it makes her scrunch up her nose as she laughs at her clingy fiancé. Not to mention that the couple pays no mind to the director a bit away from them. Too caught up in each other to realize that she makes her picture rounds short and walks further down the red carpet quicker than originally intended.

YN puts a hand to his chest, leaning up to say in his ear, “Just couldn’t keep away, huh?”

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Harry says in her ear with a smirk. He is gifted with one of her infamous eye rolls and turns her attention back to the photographers. She poses up close to her fiancé, her back angled to the cameras as she looks at them over her shoulders. She’s a natural.

“Now I know you’re not hogging this beautiful woman from the rest of us.” The couple chuckles when they turn their heads when they hear Gemma Chan’s teasing tone.

“Smile for the camera!” Chris Pine says excitedly, holding up a disposable camera to his face. The couple humors him, turning to pose for him and giving their best smiles. He captures one where Harry holds up his infamous peace sign while YN flips the camera off with a scrunch of her nose.

The small group laughs and goes about greeting one another in rounds of hugs and compliments.

“Any word to the boss lady?” Gemma discreetly nods over to Olivia and she smiles when YN scoffs.

“Don’t plan on it. This is supposed to be a fun night. Just going to enjoy ourselves the best we can for right now.”

“Yeah don’t worry about it.” The beautiful actress reassures YN. “I’ll make sure to stand with H for the group pictures later.”

Some of the stress is instantly lifted for Harry’s sake. She’s so grateful to have know Gemma for as long as she has. They first when the band first formed as she’s always been a loyal and caring friend to both her and Harry.

“Harry and I appreciate that.” YN lets out a relieved chuckle and gives the actress a careful hug to not mess up their wardrobe. “Thank you.”

“Hey, what about me?” YN giggles at Chris’s playful frown.

“How can I forget?” She’s quick to give him a hug as well. “Well don’t you look dashing?”

“This old thing?” He comically wiggles the end of his bow tie. He’s always been a fun character, always in the mood for a laugh and lifting up the mood with a joke or two. “Just plucked it out from the back of my closet. And you, beautiful as always madame.”

“You’re too sweet. And a smart thing you are for bringing that.” YN taps at the disposable camera in his hand. “How fun.”

“Do you want one? I have another one here.” Chris says while reaching into his pocket to relieve another camera and it brings out a laugh from YN.

“Are yeh sure?”

“Go ahead. Got plenty to spare.” And it only makes her laugh harder when she thinks about him bringing a whole bag filled with disposable cameras on the way to Venice. “Oh! Being called over but I’ll see you around, YN.” He gives her a final hug before hurrying over to who she assumes is his manager.

When she sees Gemma also ending her conversation with Harry, YN slides her thumb across the small wheel on the side of her camera and brings it to her eye. When he turns to her, she’s able to capture his smile with one click of a button.

“Is that Chris’s?” He chuckles, gently taking the camera from her hands.

“He gave me one.” She giggles back and puts her hands to her cheeks with her eyes closed when he lifts the camera to take a picture of her. “Now we can capture some of our time here in Venice.”

“And they’re hard copies, too.” Harry teasingly raises his eyebrows at her and she quickly catches his thinking. “Need to update a few pictures, hum?”

“Down boy.” She snatches the camera right back to tuck it into one of the inner pockets of his coat. “We can discuss that back at the hotel.” She winks before being escorted to their next designated section.

The time consists of taking more photos with some of the cast members. YN even sneaks her way over to some of the fans waiting excitingly by the barricade, talking to them in Italian and taking some pictures.

As the couple talks amongst themselves, they turn their heads when there is an eruptive roar from the crowds. And rightfully so as they see the one and only Florence Pugh make her way onto the red carpet. Flo texted her earlier in the day telling her all about her feelings for the festival. It came as to surprise for everyone but YN that she finally made her way to the premiere, making her fashionably late appearance for the movie she was staring in.

YN wastes no time reaching into the inner pockets of Harry’s blazer, pulling out her disposable camera. Harry chuckles as he sees his fiancé hurriedly shove her way to the side of the group of photographers, leaning sideways in front of Flo to get a good angle for a picture.

“Over here, Flo!” YN waves her hand above her head. “Yes, work it! You’re gorgeous, babe!”

Florence laughs at her friend’s antics and poses as if YN were an actual photographer. After that, she wastes no time quickly walking into the actress’s open arms.

“You look so hot!” YN yells above all the commotion.

“So do you! I’m so happy you’re here.”

“I’m so happy you’re here. I was waiting for my date to show up.” YN teases before giving into another tight hug. Florence makes her way around to hug her other cast members, Harry giving his co-star a quick kiss on the cheek before they wrap their arms around one another. After the stars of the movie and YN and Flo took some pictures together on the red carpet, it was time for the event everyone was dreading.

“Harry, we need you for the group photos.” One of the red carpet escorts comes up to the couple with a smile.

“Do I have to?” Harry mutters quietly to her, keeping the smile on his face to not let anyone see his dread for the pictures.

“It’ll only be for a bit.” YN straightens out his dramatic collar but leans up to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiles at her touch as her thumb gently wipes off any of the gloss she left behind on his dimple. “Smile real big for me, yeah?”

“Only for you, my love.” Olivia has been eyeing the couple all night and it sting only intensifies in her chest when Harry brings YN’s hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles before having to plaster on a smile for the photos with her.

YN truly felt for the cast and crew in those group photos. The tension was so awkward and heavy that you can cut it with a knife. Her first movie premiere was so different from this one. The Little Women cast was lively and cracking jokes. They all held hands, spoke with one another the whole night, and happily worked with the director.

There wasn’t any drama or butting heads among the people working together—it was an enjoyable experience.

All she can do is watch the cast and director of Don't Worry Darling shift uncomfortably with one another and have the reminder that this mess is almost over.

...

When the screen turns black and the end credits slowly start to appear, the whole theater politely stands on their feet to give the movie a standing ovation.

YN had loads of opinions about the movie, some good but the majority of it not so good with both the knowledge of what happened during the making of the film and by just watching what was presented. She knows that she can for certain that Florence and Harry are magnificent actors and did their jobs to the best of their abilities. She can’t blame the cast, they were just doing what they were told and got sucked into the mess that is Olivia Wilde.

And she certainly can’t blame Florence for leaving the theater during the standing ovation. If she were in her position, she might have walked out during the film so she commends the actress for her strength in lasting as long as she did.

YN squeezes her fiancé’s shoulders from her seat directly behind him. She gives him a smile in congratulations and Harry can practically feel the annoyance radiating off of her when Olivia taps his arm. When he leans behind Chris to hear her tell him that he did a good job, he just gives her a polite nod. However, when he faces forward again, YN can see the tension back in his shoulders.

That’s the last straw for her. She’s ready to tell Olivia off, having so much information to tell her since she’s been holding it off for so long. Right as she’s about to open her mouth to say something, YN’s caught off guard when Harry spins himself around, tightly grips the sides of her face, and smashes his lips to hers.

They’re both well aware of the fact that aside from the video that exposed their relationship almost two years ago, there has only been a few times where pictures or videos of them have captured them kissing. They’re also aware of the amount of flashing cameras directed toward them, the sound of whistles ringing through the large theater. And they’re both well aware that either one of them can give a flying fuck at any of that when YN kisses him back with her hands on his cheeks.

The kiss doesn’t last very long but it was surely enough to diminish whatever hatred she had inside her. She’s reminded once again that nobody else matters; it’s them against the world. That he is hers and no one else.

So when Harry turns back around to face forward, he can practically feel Olivia burning holes in the side of his head.

But does he truly care when the smirk on his lips is covered in his fiancé’s lip gloss?

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love-armin @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @harringt8ns @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit

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3d-wifey · 9 months

Text

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 2

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 4.2k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! A/N: Don't be scared to click the embedded links, you might get an auditory surprise (Ai voice cloning works wonders)

Past (ii) - You

[16 & 17] - THE CAPITOL

The man before you has a ten-year streak of picking which tribute will win. Or, at least, that’s what he’s been claiming for the past twenty minutes or so. He said it has something to do with a lot of strategic planning and background research, but at this point, he could say it had something to do with the phases of the moon and you’d still nod along. You had tried to listen closely when he first started talking, but—well, okay, that’s a lie. Everything these Capitols say goes in one ear and out the other. Actually, it doesn’t even make it as far as the first ear.

“I know how it sounds, but it’s definitely more than luck, I can assure you.” His hand catches your shoulder in his attempt to hold your very fleeting attention, trailing down your back more and more in his excitement. “Well, I won’t bore you with the details, they might be a touch too complicated for you to understand.” He laughs and you smile coyly, sidestepping his touch. You’re no stranger to the heavy-handed petting of men and women with ulterior motives, no matter how innocent they try to play it off as being at first.

It’s nighttime in the arena, and most of the tributes are getting a spare few hours of sleep before the nightmare continues. Meaning this watch party has turned into an actual party. Honestly, you don’t even know how you got trapped in a conversation with this guy.

You sip delicately from your straw, eyes roaming over the room of mingling bodies and wall-length screens depicting the games live—eager to look at literally anything but him. And that’s when you spot him: your saving grace walking by himself with his hands in his pockets.

You make eye contact with Finnick and smile, waving him over. He only hesitates for a split second, but it’s long enough that you worry he’ll leave you to fend for yourself. A fear that’s only abated when he calls out your name and approaches with a mystified grin.

“Finn!” Thank god. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” You exclaim in the most sickeningly saccharine Capitol voice you can muster. He stares with wide blue-green eyes, bemusedly mouthing ‘Finn?’ at you but you ignore him in favor of turning back to the man who somehow looks more starstruck than before.

“I’m sorry, but Finnick here promised me a dance.” You explain, pulling an excuse out of your ass. You loop your arm with Finnick’s, practically hanging off of him, and you hope beyond hope that Finnick is good at reading social cues. It should be obvious, right? You’re a big neon sign flashing ‘HELP ME’ in no uncertain terms.

“I did?” He asks, clearly confused at such a friendly greeting, but you stare up at him pleadingly and you must be projecting enough distress that he gets the memo. His back straightens in understanding and he smiles at the other man. “I did. But you know us victors, as slippery as an eel.” The other man lets out a flustered laugh. Finnick tilts his head as the band starts up. “Oh, I love this song. You don’t mind, do you? Thanks.”

You only have a few seconds to wonder what the hell an eel is before Finnick takes your glass out of your hand and hands it over to the sputtering man.

Your arms are still looped together as he leads you to the area where the other couples have decided to dance.

“May I have this dance?” He teases and you get a strong sense of déjà vu.

“Well, we’re already here, aren’t we?” You laugh. You loop your arms behind his neck, and big hands grab either side of your waist.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” He sighs, any chance of him being serious is shattered by his smirk.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow before raising to touch your hairline when he spins you.

“You know; you being a damsel in distress, and me saving you by being dashingly handsome and charming.” He clears his throat obnoxiously and puffs up his chest playfully. You’re sure if his hands were free he’d stretch to flex his muscles.

“Mhm,” You hum doubtfully. “Those are…certainly words that could be said with your name in the same sentence.”

“...I think that’s the most roundabout way anyone has ever insulted me before.” His jaw drops before he grins down at you in amused surprise. You laugh at his face, sobering up a little.

“But thank you, Finnick. Seriously. I’m sorry I keep relying on you to pull me out. It’s just…” You don’t know what else to do.

“No, it’s alright. It’s fun, honestly. We rarely get to exercise the little authority we have over them.” His mouth shrugs instead of his shoulders, an endearing motion. “Better enjoy it while you can, right?’’

You nod.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He straightens up subtly as your probing stare looks him up and down. “Don’t take this the wrong way. You look great, but you don’t really seem like a suit kind of guy.” There’s nothing about his outward appearance that gives away how uncomfortable he is, but you only need to talk to him for a few minutes to know this isn’t the sort of thing he’d choose to wear. Not that he looks bad in it; far from it. The coat is tailored to sinch at his waist and a few buttons of his undershirt are undone. The color of the jacket complements his skin tone quite well and the little pocket square makes his eyes pop.

“Thank you. Try telling that to my prep team.” He rolls his eyes. “Apparently, telling them I feel like a circus monkey playing dress up isn’t enough to dissuade them, so I might need a second opinion.”

Circus? "Wait, you’ve seen a monkey before?” You ask in awed disbelief. His mouth moves wordlessly at your enthusiasm.

“Well…not in person, per se.”

Past (ii) - Finnick

[16 & 17] - THE NEXT DAY

Finnick pours the rest of his drink into one of the potted plants he walks past, unbuttoning his suit coat once he's out of sight. This really is the last time he's letting his stylist dress him up in this getup. He rubs his temple in an attempt to soothe his growing migraine. As far as he's concerned, his job here is done. He has no reason to keep watching the games. His tributes already died. He pushes the doors open to the wide balcony and stops in his tracks. Of the many things Finnick expects to find out here, your crying isn't one of them. His first thought is that you're mourning your tributes. His second thought is that Snow got to you. It's an odd time for Snow to drop that kind of proposition on you. There are too many people here, too open for that kind of conversation. He scratches that out and circles back to his first thought. When he wasn't busy rubbing elbows with sponsors, he was keeping an eye out for your tributes. Switching periodically from his kids to yours and he can't, for the life of him, explain why. They got pretty far, considering they were malnourished and had no combat training. The boy got crushed under a tree after an earthquake and the girl stayed with him until he died. Though, it wasn't long before a Career shot an arrow through her head. The balcony door shuts behind him, and you whip around. Neither of you says anything as you rush to wipe your face. There’s an awkward lull as you both silently assess each other. "If you tell me it gets easier, I will push you off this balcony." He doesn't answer immediately, instead taking a moment to look at you. God, you're beautiful. Even now, wiping away your tears and your hurt, you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He doesn’t say any of that. "I wasn't going to." He raises his hands placatingly. He waits for you to tell him to leave, but the demand never comes. He almost offers to but decides against it for no other reason than not wanting to leave you out here alone. Instead, he moves closer and leans against the railing. It's quiet between you both as you try to hide your tears. He looks at you from the corner of his eye a few times and scratches an eyebrow with his thumb. It’s odd to think the two of you were laughing and enjoying each other’s company only yesterday. "I cried in a supply closet the first time my kids died." He glances at your surprised face before looking back down at the view. He clears his throat around the words trapped in his throat. He’s never told anyone this before, he’s never wanted to. "A fourteen-year-old girl named Dahlia, and a sixteen-year-old boy named Nyle. They didn't even make it out of the Cornucopia." Nyle was decapitated by a tribute from One and Dahlia's throat was slit by a tribute from Seven. Finnick remembers crying so hard that he threw up in a mop bucket. "Why are you telling me this?" That is a good question. One with an answer Finnick doesn’t want to look too closely at, though it might—scratch that, it definitely has something to do with your big watery eyes staring up at him ingenuously.

"Your first game as a mentor is always the hardest, and it doesn't get easier. But,” he shrugs and pulls the artfully folded, blue handkerchief out of his breast pocket, and hands it to you. Turns out this suit is good for something, "you do learn what to expect. You get used to that hurt, build up a tolerance to it." At least, he hopes so. This is his third year as a mentor and the burn is still there. How much longer until he tries to extinguish it by using substances? The Morphlings lasted two and four years, respectively. Haymitch lasted two months. You look between him and the handkerchief for a second before using it to wipe at your eyes. "It's completely different than being in the games. It's different watching." You whisper, barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. "Yeah. It is.” That's another thing they don't mention when you become a victor. The after is often worse than the during. It’s a thought he had when he saw you at your Victor Tour celebration. He doesn’t know what exactly made him ask you to dance, it could have been the tenseness you carried in your shoulders like a wounded animal being surrounded, or maybe it was the way your pretty face cracked and shattered like glass the longer the Capitols talked to you.

You were a commendable actor, sure, you’d certainly have fooled anyone else. But you just, you had looked so alone—completely overwhelmed with the piranhas circling you. So he threw you a line.

Your words swim through his head.

And you want to save me? He didn’t say your assessment was right, in fact, he had ignored what you said entirely. But he never said you were wrong either. He doesn’t suddenly have a savior complex or anything, he’s got no delusions of being some kind of hero. It’s just. He knows how much he would have appreciated it if someone had stepped in on his behalf when he was fourteen, even for just a moment. It would have made all the difference. But there hadn’t been anyone. So, if he has the chance to change that for you—stop the crippling despondency before it sweeps you away—why wouldn’t he?

Finnick won’t overestimate his influence. If Snow gets to you, there’s very little he can do about it. But.

It doesn’t seem like he’s made you the offer yet. Doesn’t that mean something? Snow is nothing if not punctual, very cut-throat in that regard. If he wanted something from you, he would have asked already, right? So maybe, he lets himself think, maybe you’re safe.

He looks up to the sky. One of the many things he hates about the Capitol is the smog. They're in the mountains, but the sky is so polluted it's hard to even see the moon sometimes. "Can you see the stars well in Eleven?" He asks, waving off your attempt to hand him back the handkerchief. You can burn it for all he cares. "Yeah,” you nod. "We focus on agriculture, so there are no mills or factories to pollute the air." You move closer to where he's leaning and look up. It feels almost instinctual to copy you, to get closer and fall into your orbit. "Hmm," he hums, "same for Four. Ships come in and out of the harbor, but I don't think they do much damage." The calmest he's felt in his entire life is when he's staring up at the sky at night, sand under his feet, and waves crashing in the background. "A friend of mine loved looking at the stars. She never knew any of the constellations, so she'd make up her own with stories to go with them." Mags loved telling him all the stories she made up when she was his age. Even after the stroke took her ability to speak, she'd point up at a constellation and have Finnick retell them to her. "My dad knew the real constellations." There's a small, prideful grin on your face that he doubts you even know is there. But he does. He is very aware of it. "He'd tell them to me whenever we came back from harvesting." "The real constellations, huh?” He glances over his shoulder at the glass door leading inside. The game is down to its last few tributes. No one should come looking for either of you. "How about for every real story you tell me, I tell you a made-up one?" He grins at you, the bar of the balcony digging into his back as he turns around. Odd. He can’t remember the last time he’s been alone with someone—someone other than Mags and Annie—and has kept all of his clothes on. "Won't they miss you in there? I mean you’re definitely the main attraction in every room you're in." You nudge him gently with your elbow, looking up at him through wispy eyelashes. Your eyes are still a little red from your earlier crying, but they’re heavy and focused entirely on him. He's used to people flirting with him. Hell, he does it almost as readily as he breathes. But he isn't used to you flirting with him. That tentative way of yours makes him nervous. It’s nothing he’s used to. It feels too real. "I don't care what they think," he shrugs a shoulder, biting his lip to stop from smiling too broadly, "The real party's out here, anyway." You tilt your head, smiling up at him and his ears go warm. This is probably the fifth time he's talked to you and you've never smiled at him like that before.

“Deal.” You hold up your pinky to him, something so openly childish that he can’t help but laugh.

“Deal.” He locks his pinky with yours and you nod at each other before dropping your hands.

"You see that up there? Those tiny clusters of stars," he watches your finger draw a W between five stars, "are called Cassiopeia. And those five stars above it are called Cepheus. They were husband and wife, queen and king. Cassiopeia offended Poseidon by saying her daughter, Andromeda, was more beautiful than the sea nymphs—close friends of his. So he punished her by sending a flood and a sea monster that would destroy their country unless they sacrificed Andromeda." Finnick looks from the sky to the side of your face as you continue talking. He follows the line of your jaw up to your mouth and watches as your full lips form the words of your story. The moon is full, the sky is bright, and he's entranced by more than just the stars. “After they died, Zeus put them in the sky together because Cepheus was a descendant of one of Zeus's lovers. A little weird, honestly.” Your face scrunches up in a decidedly cute way at the thought. “Cepheus sits with his scepter, and Cassiopeia sits chained to her throne as a punishment by Poseidon. As if having to sacrifice her daughter wasn’t enough. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?"

“Yeah.” The yellow lights from inside blanket you from behind, while the moon’s white glare reflects in your eyes. “They are.” You catch him staring and look at him expectantly. You're starting to fidget and he realizes he’s been quiet for a concerning amount of time. “My friend…” he pauses and makes a quick decision, "my friend Mags, she calls that one the Turtle and the Fish. Eros was mischievous and vain, as most gods are. He wanted to show off to a sea nymph, so he made a turtle and a fish fall in love to prove his power transcended species. But fish don't live as long as turtles, and once its lover died, the turtle mourned for one hundred years at the bottom of the sea. Poseidon, who felt his subject's grief, put them together amongst the stars for all eternity." He turns to you and finds you staring at him. "What?" He asks with a laugh, embarrassed for whatever reason. "I know it’s pretty simple compared to yours, but—" He cuts himself off when you smile at him again. "No, I liked it." You nod at your own words like you're agreeing with yourself. "It was sweet. Your Poseidon is way nicer than mine. Maybe you can tell your friend one of my stories. To show her how different they are." You shrug like it's a dumb, throwaway idea, before turning away from him in a haste to look back up at the sky.

He doesn’t understand. How can you just offer something like that like it’s nothing? You clearly loved your father very much and he picked up on the past tense when you talked about him. These stories are quite personal to you and he had assumed you hadn’t wanted them to be shared, but…Maybe he will tell her.

“Oh. Good. I just—I’m not much of a storyteller, so…I might’ve completely butchered that.” He swears it sounds much better when he retells it to Mags.

“It was great, Finnick. You were great.” You pout up at him and it’s the most unfair shit Finnick’s ever seen. Made even worse by the fact that you’re defending him. To himself. “Can you tell me another one?” You ask guilelessly, and who is Finnick to say no?

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Present (ii) - Finnick

[ 23 & 24] - District Four

"Mags: milk and cinnamon," Finnick places two tea cups before the two women, "And, Annie: a spoonful of honey." Mags smiles up at him in thanks as Annie takes a sip. He walks back to the kitchen to pour his own cup. It’s odd. He hadn’t always been a tea drinker. But now he practically puts on a new cup for every occasion, entirely your influence. He rests against the counter, letting it dig into his hip. It wouldn't be long before Snow announced the stipulations for the third Quarter Quell and Finnick can admit in the safety of his own mind that he's nervous. There were whispers among the Capitols and none of it painted a pretty picture. One of his clients informed him about a new Gamemaker, supposedly some kind of creative genius. He rolls his eyes at the thought. Yeah, he bets the guy is absolutely brilliant at torturing children. He drops five sugar cubes into the tea before grabbing a licorice root to stir it with. He joins them on the couch, staring at the sliced berries floating in his cup. There's something in the air. Word travels fast in close circles and it's no secret that there are more and more riots breaking out in the districts. Katniss and Peeta's win is still fresh on everyone's tongue. Snow has stayed quiet and with the Quarter Quell on the horizon, Finnick knows it—he can feel it in the atoms of his very being that it's going to end poorly. Or at the very least, worse than normal. What fresh hell will Snow come up with this time? Snow appears before a cheering crowd, foreboding even through the TV. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the seventy-fifth year of The Hunger Games. And it was written in the charter of The Games that every twenty-five years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol." He places his cup on the table and leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. And now on this, the seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell," Mags grabs onto his arm, frail fingers gripping his wrist. He wonders if she can feel the pulsing of his rapid heartbeat, "as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol. On this, the third Quarter Quell Games the male and female Tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district." Annie lets out a blood-curdling scream and it echoes past Finnick's ears. Her glass shatters on the ground and scalding tea splashes on his feet. He doesn't flinch. Normally, whenever Annie got like this, he would comfort her—talk her through it, but he can't move. The tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors and all of the victors of District Four are in this room. Mags’s physical state and Annie’s mental state guarantee one thing: regardless of who gets picked, they won't survive it. He'll be losing someone either way, and that's if he survives. If he survives, because Finnick is the only male victor for Four. There's no doubt, no one volunteering for him. He will be reaped and that, that was just— He rubs at his eyes with the base of his palms, fighting back a migraine. He makes a mental list: he'll be picked, Johanna and Blight will be picked, Chaff will be picked and— His hands move to pull at his roots. There are only two female victors in Eleven. There are only two, but Seeder loves you like she raised you herself. There's still hope, still a chance that you won't be picked, that she'll take your place if you're reaped. You'll be safe. And then, he remembers: Seeder is a mother, she's a wife. There are people that need her. He won't put it past Snow to rig the outcome for Eleven. He'll put Seeder's name in twice and pat himself on the back for seemingly ensuring your freedom. When, in reality, he's only ensured that you'll be in the arena.

Finnick knows this because he knows you. Better than he knows anyone, better than he knows himself. He knows that you're brave, that you're stubborn enough to put a cabezon to shame, that you're stupidly compassionate. He knows that you'll never be able to live with yourself if you don't volunteer in her place.

His head falls to the back of the couch. That's one thing he and Snow have in common, the only thing. Their love has damned you. Annie is mumbling to herself, having screamed herself hoarse at this point. But she keeps making jerking movements as if she wants to run. He steals a few breaths, taking a moment to gather himself—his fears, his hopes, his anger—he gathers it all and stores it away. "C'mon, Annie. Let's go outside for a walk." A stroll along the shoreline usually calms her down and he gets the allure. At least with the cooling breeze and the ocean mist from crashing waves, Finnick can close his eyes and pretend to be someone else. Someone unburdened with the fact that Snow was right, they are more similar than he'd like to admit. Because Seeder may have a family that relies on her, but Finnick can't find it in himself to care. He'd put her in the arena himself if it meant your safety. He stands, stepping around shards of glass and pools of cooling tea, pulling Annie up with him. He doesn't get far before Mags grabs his hand. She's worried, he can see it in her frown. She has every right to be. “I'm,” not fine, far from it, “right here, Mags. Don't worry about me.” He leaves behind Mags's concern and the sound of Caesar Flickerman's excited voice recounting Snow's speech. He pinches the skin between his thumb and index finger, pressing down until it hurts. Then he presses down until the muscle throbs. The sea breeze hits him in the face when he opens the door and he thinks. The boat is sinking and he can only swim for so long.

A/N: Side note, that was "stubborn enough to put a bull to shame" but I figured Finnick wouldn't know enough about bulls to know they're stubborn. So I picked the fish equivalent of a bull.

#the hunger games #hunger games catching fire #hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick odair #and they'd find us in a week

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writermai05 · 2 months

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Arsonist's Lullabye

Chapter 2: Wasteland, Baby!

Summary: Y/n makes new friends, and Zuko….tries.

Pairing: Zuko x fem! reader (Live Action or Animated)

A/N: Not “this is me trying” starting to play as I was writing Zuko’s pov…Anyways, this is a long chapter, which is why it took me so long to write. I was struggling a bit, but I think it came out good! I would love any feedback / constructive criticism to help me improve on the story.

Word Count: 1,897

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender, I am merely a nerd who hyperfixates a lot. Lots of divergence from the canon story lol.

Warnings !: Zuko is insecure, Mentions of bullying, I think that’s it?

Y/n was excited to start classes. After all, she was a social butterfly, floating around from person to person like flowers in a garden. Her morning sociology class was pretty small for a lecture, but it was full of interesting new people.

But there was one person who stood out to her most. A girl with jet black hair, held in a bun at the top of her head with a gold pin, and golden eyes with an intensity enough to make even the most powerful cower. She wore a bright red long sleeved top under a black tank top, with matching black pants and black leather boots. She stood strongly, and with perfect posture. But Y/n noticed how she stood off to the side of the room, all by herself. Maybe the girl was intentionally avoiding people? Y/n thought. Or maybe, the mere aura of this girl was strong enough to deter people away from her. Either way, Y/n was intrigued.

As their classmates mingle about, asking the same two questions over and over again, Y/n quietly snuck next to the girl. She took notice of her height. If the girl’s hair was down, the two of them would be about the same height. Y/n quietly took in her presence in an attempt to learn more about her.

“Who are you?” The girl snapped, looking Y/n up and down, sizing her up.

Y/n brushed off the hostile advance as if it were nothing. “I’m Y/n. I’m a second year psychology major. And you?”

The girl appeared a little surprised. Perhaps she was used to people being scared, or intimidated by her.

“...Azula.” The girl replied.

Y/n nodded. “Well Azula, what is your year and major?”

“I’m a first year business administration major…” Azula responded, clearly uninterested in the rest of the conversion. Y/n wasn’t an idiot. She could tell when people were not in the mood to converse.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Azula. If you actually feel like talking, I’ll be over there.” And with that, Y/n left, fluttering away to a brand new person on the other side of the lecture hall, leaving Azula thoroughly confused, and kind of impressed.

When Katara and Y/n had lunch last friday, the younger girl had insisted that Y/n had lunch with her, Sokka, and their friends. To which Y/n happily accepted, of course.

The dining hall buzzed with high spirits as students lined up to get their lunch. Looking out amongst the crowd, she spotted the group of friends, their laughter and their energetic conversations added to the noise within the room.

Sokka was the first to spot her, “Y/n!” He said, bringing the girl to the group's attention. There were 5 of them at the table, an air-nomad boy sat next to Katara, and next to him sat a short girl in green, then Sokka, and another girl next to him.

“You guys this is Y/n, my mentor for the scholarship program Sokka and I are a part of!” Katara took hold of Y/n’s arm, leading her to sit in between her and the taller girl. The girl in question smiled at y/n.

“Nice to meet you y/n! I’m Suki-”

“My girlfriend!” Sokka cut her off in an excited tone. Suki narrowed her eyes at Sokka, making the boy reel it back a little.

“Yes. I am indeed Sokka’s girlfriend. That’s Toph and Aang, Katara’s boyfriend.” Suki pointed at the short girl and the air-nomad boy. Aang smiled while Toph gave a little nod of her head.

“It’s so nice to meet you guys. Katara and Sokka talk about you a lot.” Y/n said with a smile.

“So Y/n, what do you like to do?” Toph asked curiously, her unseeing eyes trailing around the area where y/n sat.

“Well, I’m a psych major, and I minor in Water Tribe studies. I practice water-bending sometimes too..” Y/n trailed off.

“You’re a water-bender? Why didn’t you mention it before?” asked Katara.

Y/n Shrugged. “I’m not very good. Plus my parents are kinda…disconnected from that part of our culture.”

The group nodded in sympathy. The rapid urbanization of their nations left no room for things like the practice of bending. Nowadays, only the rich, as well as some members of the Water Tribe, continue to teach their children bending. It was almost more common for people to not know bending than to know it.

Amidst the clinking of utensils and the hum of conversation, the group of friends savored their lunch, grateful for the simple things. They rattled on about going to Toph’s Power Disc game next week, and watching Suki in the Kyoshi color guard. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw a certain cashier. She turned her head to look at him completely, which grabbed the attention of Katara.

“Ugh. Zuko.” She said with a roll of her eyes.

Y/n perked at the mention of his name. “You guys know him?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Why do you ask? ” Katara stabbed into her food, causing Aang to put a hand on her shoulder, calming her down.

“I met him at the Jasmine Dragon.” Y/n explained vaguely. Based on the reactions around the table, she knew she probably should not have asked about him.

“We went to high school together…He wasn’t the nicest back then.” Aang explained.

Sokka scoffed at Aang’s passivity.

“He burnt Toph’s feet. He literally shoved you into a locker! That’s like, some shit you’d see in a mover!” Sokka exclaimed in an over the top fashion.

Toph shrugged, “That was an accident. We were sparring in PE-”

“Toph, you’re a 5 foot tall blind girl-”

“Hey! I’m 5’1!”

Aang tried his best to get his friends to settle down.

“Okay that’s enough. Sokka, weren’t you and Zuko in the same class last year? He wasn’t mean to you then right?”

“Maybe because he was embarrassed from completely bombing his first year of classes-”

Aang’s eyes widened, “Katara!”

“What? It’s true.” She said matter of factly.

Suki was the one to get the group to settle down.

“That’s enough you guys.”

Now was probably an awful time for Y/n to mention Zuko was very nice when they had met the previous week. Instead, she opted to sit quietly, pondering all the information she had just learned.

Zuko was mortified.

Of course Y/n was friends with the people he tormented. Of course they had mattered to shoot down any chances of friendship between him and Y/n. Of course, he would never get a chance to finally make amends with Aang and his friends. He knew for a fact he had done this to himself, and yet he couldn’t help but immediately blame the circumstances that had followed him up until this point.

As he walked into his next class, Zuko began to feel an unprompted sense of dread overwhelm him.

Oh. That’s why.

Low and behold, sitting right in front of him was the girl he had served at the boba shop mere days ago. The girl that had literally just listened to Aang and his friends completely dragged him about his past behavior.

Y/n made eye contact with him, her eyes filling with warm recognition. She smiled at him, giving a small wave. Zuko quickly averted contact, sitting as far away as he could with the limited seats left in class. He tried his best to avoid catching her gaze, but it was useless, because she was staring at him now. Each time their eyes met each other's, Zuko's would dart to the floor, in an attempt to not feel the heavy weight of his past transgressions on his conscience.

It worked for about 15 minutes, before the professor grouped everyone in the class up to talk. Of course, it was just his luck that his stupid professor would group Y/n and him as a pair.

“Just talk with your partner a little about yourselves. I really encourage you to get to know one another, as you will be with these people for the rest of the year.” Their professor had said.

Yeah, thanks.

The tension between the two was palpable. Zuko refused to make conversation, simply nodding at everything that Y/n would tell him. He assumed it would be better if they kept the conversation minimal, maybe then she didn’t have to pretend to want to know more about him.

However, Y/n was starting to get annoyed. What was going on? This is literally what she had wanted, and yet Zuko sat there, pretending to care about what she was saying.

“What is your deal?” She asked bluntly, shocking Zuko, and even herself a little, with the brash tone she had taken up.

“What is my deal? What is your deal?” he fired back, as if he were a child retorting to a schoolyard taunt.

“Are you even paying attention to what I’m saying? If you don't want to talk, you should just say something. You don’t have to go the extra mile to ignore me for virtually no reason?’

“Why are you talking to me?” he spat back at her.

Y/n looked at him with dismay. “Because I can? Do I need a reason?”

“Well after the conversation you and your friends had at the dining hall, I figured there was no reason you’d want to.” Y/n noticed the way Zuko pulled back after he said that. He once again looked everywhere else but at her.

“I’m sorry.” said Zuko.

He knew this was a mistake. He should have never tried in the first place. Silence overtook the two of them for a minute.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between all of you. But this is all new to me, and I don’t know how exactly to navigate this. I forgive you for being an asshole just now.” Y/n was being honest, but she couldn’t quite tell whether or not Zuko had understood.

“Time’s up! Back to your seats.” Their professor proclaimed as the timer chirped a loud, annoying, song.

Feeling like a kicked puppy, Zuko began to gather his things and return to his seat. But not before Y/n reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“How about we sit next to each other on wednesday? We’ll talk more then?” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Zuko was confused. Had she not realized just how fucked up of a person he is? Why isn’t she giving up?

“Okay…” he responded with a curt nod.

She gave a gentle smile, nodding her own head. “Okay.”

With that, she let go of his hand, letting Zuko walk away. He stared at the wrist that she had held onto. Her grasp was gentle, but unyielding and it had felt like a jolt of lightning against his scarred skin.

Y/n had felt the roughness of his scarred skin underneath her fingertips, her eyes trailing Zuko as he walked away. She found herself even more curious about him than before.

Within the wasteland of his mind, Zuko picked up the pieces of all his hopes and dreams, for maybe a secret oasis could finally be found in Y/n’s kindness. Maybe, his luck was beginning to change.

#arsonist's lullabye #writermai05 #atla x reader #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko x reader #zuko x reader #aang #atla #atla live action #atla netflix #college au #modern au #katara #sokka #atla suki #toph #atla azula

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bimiio · 3 months

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#JUST FOUND A BRAND NEW BUTCH/FEMME SPECIFIC EVENT W AN UPCOMING MIXER IN APRIL IN MY CITY I’M GONNA SCREAM #IM SO EXCITED R U KIDDING #FIIIIIIINALLY #gonna get 2 mingle w sum actual BUTCHES n not just mascs who look at me sideways when i tell them i’m a pillow princess #m1n3 #femme4butch

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zoeysdamn · 1 year

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Bloodied petals | Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.5

Summary: Heartbroken by Xavier’s rejection, you know that your days are numbered now. Enid has your back as a dutiful roommate and manages to convince you to go to the Rave’n – even if it’s the last place where you want to be. Maybe some unexpected bonding time with Bianca cannot be that bad, before some terrible news is delivered.

Warnings: angst™, mentions of blood, swearing, underage drinking, description of a panic attack. English isn’t my mother tongue.

A/N: I know I’ve promised some fluff in this chapter buuuutttt this is already so long like omg so, sorry guys you’ll have to wait for the next one :DD

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4]

It was a weird feeling to know that you were going to die soon. In the two days following Xavier’s rejection, you had basically locked yourself in your room, a basin always at hand’s reach. You didn’t even try to hide it anymore when Wednesday was around, besides you were kind of busy throwing up every single flower and petal to care about her occasional pitiful looks. She wasn’t particularly having remorses, but the knowledge that her roommate was down a dreadful path didn’t please her either. You had been kind to her without being too nosy, so she tolerated you. But you couldn’t care less about Wednesday Addams’ second thoughts at the moment. All of your chest and throat felt like a burning fire most of the time and it felt like the whole Nevermore glasshouse was growing in your lungs.

In an attempt to try to delay the growth of the plants a little, you had concocted a potion you drank three times a day. There was no cure for Hanahaki disease, but it was still plants. So you had made a potion that would basically act like a weed killer. The taste was horrendous and it burned your throat almost as much as the flowers themselves, but at least it seemed to slow down their growth a little. It means that you still could pretend it was just the flu when you coughed during class and managed to hide away the flowers, but that you were curled up on your bed or over the toilets for the rest of the time.

The tricky part was to hide it from Enid. You loved your other roommate, but she was so sweet and excited about the upcoming ball, you didn’t have the heart to tell her what was really going on. She wouldn’t be able to get it out of her mind and you didn’t want to burden her with it. You always managed to flee the room just in time when she was there and you felt the coughs starting to get stronger. Fortunately, she still didn’t notice anything. Although, you knew that at some point you would have to disclose the truth to her. So you had decided to tell everything to Enid after the Rave’n and the parents' weekend following. She surely had enough on her plate for the time being. Like, convincing Wednesday to go shopping for the upcoming ball.

“C’mon, it’ll be a fun outing between roomies!” she said excitedly while Wednesday kept her unfazed expression.

“I’d rather burn my own eyes with acid rather than mingle with teenagers ready to fight over a stupid piece of fabric.”

From your bed, you rolled your eyes behind the book you were reading. On any other day, you would have chuckled at Wednesday’s antics, but the harsh tone she always used to answer Enid's kind ideas was starting to get on your nerves. Couldn’t she just say a plain no?

Luckily, Enid had an optimistic personality, “Come ooooon, just one little shopping session between roomies, please please pleeaseee! I bet even Y/N thinks it’s a good idea, right Y/N?”

The sudden mention of your name in the discussion made you jump a little and you looked up from the pages. Enid looked at you expectedly, a large smile on her face.

“I’m not going to the Rave’n,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. You wouldn’t give Wednesday the satisfaction of seeing you cry and an occasion to ramble again about how weak your feelings made you. This made Enid gasp.

“What! Why?”

“Don’t have a date, and don’t want to go,” you simply mumbled, not without giving a glance at the pigtailed girl. It wasn’t entirely her fault, you couldn’t manipulate Xavier’s feelings for you; still, you couldn’t help but feel bitter.

Enid looked between the two of you and made a small “oh” in understanding. “But- but you don’t need a date to go!” she tried to reassure you, changing the subject quickly. “You can go on your own! Independent women don’t need a man to do what they want, right?”

You snickered at this, “Playing the feminist card won’t work this time Enid. I don’t want to go to have the whole school whispering at how pathetic I look on my own.”

Both of your roommates felt kind of sorry for you at that moment. Of course not, in the same way, Wednesday was more bored of this whole ordeal and was slightly saddened by the fact an acceptable roommate was turning bitter. It wasn’t a pretty colour on you and she might have lost a valuable ally.

“Come on Y/N,” pleaded Enid again, “you don’t look so good these days, some fresh air could be good for you!”

For a moment you felt the tip of your tongue burning with a witty comeback, something about her argument being not really convincing, but you retained yourself. Then you let out a long sigh. “Fine,” you conceded because it was hard to resist Enid’s pleading eyes, “but only because you need a fashion chaperone and you said please.”

“Yes!” squealed Enid, clapping her hands, “it’ll be so fun! I’m gonna tell Miss T we’re all going to Jericho, see you at the entrance in 10 minutes!”

She waltzed out of the room, grabbing her pink jean jacket on the way and blessedly unaware of the tension she left behind. Ignoring the heavy look of Wednesday you got up from the bed and started to put your shoes on.

“I didn’t know you wanted to go to that stupid ball,” said Wednesday. Were that undertones of guilt you heard in her voice?

“I don’t,” you groaned, “I just wished…you know what, forget it you wouldn’t get it anyway.”

“If it’s about Xavier being my date then no need to be so petty about this,” she said rolling her eyes, “I’m just using the occasion to watch him and find out if he’s the monster or not.”

You let out a bitter laugh, flabbergasted by her words. “Do you realize how much worse it is? You know what I feel for Xavier, and you’re inviting him to interrogate him? Holy fuck.”

“I’m trying to stop a monster here Y/N,” she deadpanned flatly. “There’s no need for bitter behaviour.”

Exhaling loudly through your nostrils, you turned to her with a harsh glare. “I’m not jealous of you, Wednesday. The only thing that makes me mad is the fact that Xavier accepted to go with you barely a minute after I confessed to him.”

This time Wednesday’s eyebrows rose up high, probably not expecting that. She had thought that you were only jealous of her and the proximity that her invitation to Xavier might imply to a random mind. Teenagers and young adults were guided by their primal emotions after all, but you were shaking all of her certainties.

“I’m just heartbroken really,” you sighed while putting on your jacket, tears once again ready to flow, “so drop it, I’m just going to humour Enid and clear my head.”

Just as you were about to close the room’s door, you heard Wednesday speak again, “I don’t know much about romantic feelings, but I think you’re rightfully upset. Thorpe is a fool.”

That made you pause for a moment, “Yeah, I know,” you breathed out quietly.

That was the closest of a nice thing Wednesday could tell you.

Unsurprisingly, your gothic roommate abandoned the rest of your odd trio in front of the clothes store a few minutes later. She had to snoop around god-knows-where, so it was just Enid and you. The werewolf looked around, barely containing her excitement or her shopping spree. You only browsed through the racks mind-absently, not really looking at the clothes or listening to her happy banter. Which she noticed.

“Sooo, what’s with the long face?” she asked innocently. “You’re not one to usually skip parties.”

“I’m just not feeling like going this time, nothing big,” you mumbled. You hoped that Enid would drop the subject. She didn’t.

“Is this…about Wednesday?” she dared to ask, and offered you a sorry smile when you whipped your head at her. “Is this because she invited Xavier? I know you’re close to him and–”

“This is not about Wednesday,” you snapped at her, irritably. Why did people keep assuming you had the role of the jealous bitch?

Enid’s slight jump made you sigh; you shouldn’t have snapped at her like that. “Look, it’s just…I’m tired, okay? Besides, this isn’t about Wednesday, it’s about Xavier.”

Your roommate’s face suddenly lit up and she gasped, “You’re jealous of Xavier?? You mean you and Wednesday–”

You frowned while letting out a surprised laugh, “What? No! If anything, she’s more your type than mine.”

Enid’s cheeks lit up slightly, “She’s not!” she defended herself fiercely – too much to be honest. You chuckled; you definitely had to tease her about this later.

“Your type involves two kinds of people: love-stuck but dumb gorgons and mysterious unfazed goth girls,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“This- this- this isn’t about me, don’t try to escape the subject!” she sputtered, cheeks flaming red. “And wait a minute? Did you say that the problem was Xavier? Oh my god,” she beamed, “did you finally realize that you loved him? That’s so great!!”

Your face darkened at that and you cast your eyes elsewhere to hide your shame, “Not really no,” you whispered. “He doesn’t love me back.”

“What??” screamed Enid, loud enough for a few other customers to glare at your pair. You threw them a sorry look before giving Enid a disapproving stare. “What?” she repeated, whisper-shouting this time, “what do you mean he doesn’t love you? He totally does!”

“Well, turns out he doesn’t,” you said in a sad tone you couldn’t hold back. “I kissed him and…and he told me that he doesn’t love me back, end of the story.”

She stood there, mouth agape in utter shock. At her frozen face, you only shrugged weakly like it was nothing.

“What? But how? This can’t be, you guys are like the most likely future couple in the whole school!”

Tears burned your eyes and you tried so hard to not let them fall. “Well, since he agreed to go to the Rave’n with Wednesday less than five minutes after I told him…guess it’s pretty much obvious.”

“He did WHAT?” shouted Enid, earning a few angry glares once more. But she couldn’t care less, she was furious. “And you were there??”

You nodded weakly. “I heard them, yeah.”

“That FUCKER, you just kissed him and confess to him and he has the audacity to say yes to another girl’s invite? Argh!” she ranted, throwing her hand in the air ragefully. “The nerve of that piece of shit!”

“Woah Enid Sinclair, you kiss your dad with that mouth?” you chuckled, slightly taken aback by the loss of her temper.

“Yeah and I have every right, I’m fucking mad at him Y/N!” she fumed, angrily putting back a dress she had been holding for that time. “He acted like a dick and now you’re miserable!”

“It’s nothing Enid,” you mumbled.

She grabbed your hand over the rack with pleading eyes. “He broke your heart Y/N, this isn’t nothing.”

You gulped slowly, a single tear sliding down your cheek. Even with trembling lips, you managed to articulate something, “It’ll pass eventually.” Squeezing her hand lightly, you tried to give her the most reassuring look you could put on.

The sad wincing she let out was heartbreaking, “Oh girl…”

Whipping your tears you refocused on the clothes on the rack.

“So,” you said more lightly, clearly trying to change the subject, “what do you want to wear? I think you’ll look terrific in feathers.”

The bone-crushing hug she tugged you in surprised you, almost squeezing all air out of you. Enid had come around the rack so quickly you hadn’t even noticed her coming over to tackle you in a bear hug.

“Woah, calm down wolfie,” you chuckled weakly, “what with the sudden burst of affection?”

Her laugh was muffled by the way her face was buried in your shoulder, “Don’t act so surprised, you know this was coming. This is your roommate’s heartbreak mandatory hug.”

You wanted to reply something, but honestly, the words were stuck in your throat. Tears prevented you from saying anything. So instead, you returned the hug, hands gripping tightly Enid’s back. It was warm, friendly and frankly, the kindest thing someone had ever done to you for the past few days. You let yourself sink into the hug, letting its warmth envelop you in much-needed affection. When a small sob rocked your body, you realized how much you had craved that.

Slightly tugging away from the hug, Enid took both of your hands, “Look I know everything feels like shit right now, but let me help you with this okay? Come to the ball, it’ll lift your spirit a little. Just between us girls, in our best outfits, drinking cheap cocktails, and dancing to lame electro music until our feet bleed, it’ll be fun!”

Her joyful tone made you smile. In a way, it might be the last party you would attend…the disease was already quite serious, and now that Xavier had rejected you, the chances of healing had simply vanished away. So if you had not much longer to live, why not have the more fun you could? Why not experience everything you could since it’ll soon be over? One last party before the dark no matter how your chest ached.

“Fuck Xavier and his ungrateful ass,” continued Enid, “you’re gonna have fun and enjoy this ball like the queen you are, okay roomie? And don’t you dare turn this down because I–”

“I’ll come,” you cut her off.

“Because believe m– you what?”

“I will come to the Rave’n,” you repeated with a weak but honest smile. “Independent women don’t need anybody, right?”

She beamed at you as she realized that you quoted her and brought you into another bone-crushing hug. Her heartwarming reaction made you laugh; she was right, you could use the Rave’n to change your mind, even if it wouldn’t be so easy. But Enid had this strange power of convincing people to do what was best for them. Maybe she was the witch in your dorm after all.

Spending the rest of the day snooping around the shop and digging to find perfect outfits had the merit to alleviate your pain and forget about the flowers a little. This was all you could ask for these days.

To say that you were excited about the Rave’n was an exaggeration. Three days or so before the ball, you had a newfound thrill about it thanks to Enid, but your mood had decreased in the meantime. First, because your health hadn’t gone better despite the potion you’ve been taking. It slowed down the growing process, sure, but weed killer was still poison. And second, words had spread that Xavier had dumped Wednesday for the Rave’n. This didn’t sadden you per se, but a small, naive part of yourself had secretly hoped that he would invite you instead. This was silly but for the briefest moment, you had thought that he would, at least because you were best friends. He didn’t.

So it was half-heartedly that you applied some light make-up before the dance, your white outfit hanging on the door of your closet. Enid’s energy was barely enough to make you smile but you had promised her you would come. When her date came to pick her up at the door she gave you an excited wave of the hand, reminding you to find her later when you arrive at the party. She didn’t want to rush you or pressure you if you didn’t want to arrive this early, and you were grateful for that. The more time passed, the more your already thin will to go seemed to vanish. And yet, you sighed and grabbed your outfit with you to get changed in the bathroom. While you had felt empty most of the day, something tiny and warmth erupted in you when you got a look at yourself in the mirror once changed. You had picked long white palazzo pants, with an equally white corset top that showed off your shoulders and arms; flowy thin off-the-shoulder sleeves gave an impression of weightlessness like it was effortless to be here. Perfect to hide the reality of the pain dragging along your steps. But…the longer you looked at yourself in the mirror, the stronger this pleasant - albeit quite weak - feeling grew. For the first time, you actually found yourself pretty. The discreet silver embroidery of stars and constellations on the corset and the platform heels of your favourite colour were nice additions. Of a sudden, you started to feel nostalgic. In a way, this night was your last outing with a large crowd of people you knew, and most of them would probably never see you again. A strange feeling of confidence rushed by; not the one when you feel powerful by the way you look or carry yourself, but one of the ethereal moments, frozen in time yet ephemeral. You hadn't particularly made a difference in your short life but at least you were glad that you could shine for one last dance, clothed in white before the red of your blood would take over.

Whipping a treacherous tear that had made its way to the corner of your eye, you then squared your shoulders. With a last long inspiration for strength, you exited the bathroom.

Seeing your other roommate packing a bag, you frowned slightly.

"You're going somewhere?"

"Eugene and I are going to watch over the cave we discovered," she said simply, packing a flashlight, "it's highly likely to be the monster's den."

"Eugene? Ottinger?" you asked, surprised by her unconventional choice of companion. At her sharp nod, your face turned into a concerned expression. "I'm glad he's with you then, but…be careful, okay?"

She snapped her head in your direction, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Yeah, but Eugene's not. He's a good kid, he doesn't deserve to be hurt," you insisted.

You didn't know Eugene Ottinger that well, firstly because he was younger and a class below you, but you had met him on various occasions especially about bees when some of your potions required honey. But he was a kind boy, and the knowledge that he was going close to a supposed monster nest wasn't reassuring at all.

And seemingly, Wednesday saw your worry and you could swear that you saw her hardened expression ease a little.

"He will be safe with me," she said. "Besides I'm the only one allowed to torture him. Bee code."

That pulled a small smile out of you. Under her tough armour, Wednesday actually had a soft side. Not wanting to push it further, you quietly made your way to the door; no need to delay the party further. Swinging the door open, you stopped dead in your tracks at the unexpected sight of a familiar figure. Tyler stood there dressed head to toe in white, fidgeting nervously.

“Oh,” he said, almost as surprised as you. “Hi Y/N.”

“Galpin,” you greeted dryly.

He scratched the back of his head, mouth opening like he was about to say something. You swore that if he was about to sweet-talk you by making an actual compliment you were going to punch him. Fortunately for him, he didn’t. “Is- uh, is Wednesday here?”

You arched an eyebrow at his question. Or more accurately, at Tyler Galpin being at your dorm room dressed to the nines and asking for your roomie. “Sure,” you said, “Wednesday, there’s someone for you.”

She said something about Eugene being on time and you didn’t need to look at her to feel her freeze next to you when she reached the door. A very awkward beat passed, and then you decided that you definitely didn’t want to witness the strange conversation that would follow. Slipping away you caught a brief look at Thing hiding inside the room. This was going to be an interesting story to hear about later.

Going down the stairs of the Ophelia wing, you started to get cold feet about this party. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, after all? But before you even thought about going back to your dorm you were already at the party, and Enid had definitely seen you. Her enthusiastic gasp made some of your friends’ heads turn.

“Y/N, you look so pretty!” she exclaimed as you approached them, shyly greeting the rest of them.

Ajax let out a low whistle, “Well, none of you told us this was an actual fashion show or what.”

“Nice outfit, I second the shoes,” said Yoko with a smirk.

“Thanks guys,” you said almost shyly.

“You’re like Glenda the witch of the East!” beamed Enid, which made some of the others chuckle.

You thanked her and went to grab the two of you some drinks. Apparently, her date was supposed to but he stood rather awkwardly in the middle of the Nevermore students' crowd. Returning with the blue drinks in hand you cheered with the small group of friends, swinging gently at the music rhythm while everyone arrived. You even caught sight of Principal Weems, a somehow proud smile plastered on her face as she chaperoned the whole party. Everyone seemed to have a good time and it warmed your heart. One of your last memories of your school and its students, it was a good one.

But then, you heard Enid gasp.

“Oh my god, look who’s there.”

You whipped your head, expecting the surprise appearance of Wednesday at Tyler’s arm – if she hadn’t eaten him alive first. Instead, you felt your heart leap in your throat like a freezing iceberg to the bottom of the ocean. Cladded in white and hair tightly brought in a bun like he often did, Xavier walked in. And on his arm in a stunning silver backless dress, Bianca. Before you could stop yourself you choked on your drink, a coughing fit rocking your whole body ungracefully.

“Shit, you’re alright?” immediately asked Enid.

You wiped the corner of your mouth slightly, just to make sure you didn’t actually drool on yourself. “Yeah,” you mumbled, “be right back, ‘m gonna fetch me another drink.”

Dodging her questions or the questioning looks of people around you sped to the minibar. Once you made sure no one saw you, you hurled over your drink and let a large white bloodied flower drown down your glass. The red blood distilled into the blue tint of the cocktail, melting like deadly poison. That made you wince and you put down your drink on the table, hidden behind some bottles. You picked another clean glass of this whatever-virgin cocktail and waved discreetly your hand above it. Taking a sharp swing of it you were secretly glad to feel the familiar sting down your frown. At least you still had enough power to cast this spell transforming water into liquor. This night was going to require much stronger than soft drinks.

From that moment, the Rave’n took a more bittersweet turn for you. It was hard to not glance at Xavier or Bianca – which, if you had done, would have made you realize that the vibes were awkwardly cold between the two of them. Even though Enid and Yoko tried to distract you, dragging you to the dance floor and trying to make you laugh. Their antics worked as you ended up swaying and dancing along to the loud techno music, pretending it didn’t pierce your ear drums. You didn’t even flinch at Wednesday’s sudden appearance, her black dress parting the crowd of white outfits like the red sea. It wasn’t your time to care, nor did you want to. The glass of booze you had certainly helped; you weren’t drunk, not even tipsy, just feeling light-headed enough to tune down, for a few minutes, the aching pain in your heart. The feeling of weightlessness was numbing and soothing, but not enough to forget the plaguing thought of your sickness. Or the weight of Xavier’s rejection, rubbed in your face by his arrival with Bianca.

When a more slow song started, this artificial euphoria wore off slowly. And the feeling of your loneliness became very real again. The room became too crowded, too much to handle and you walked out of it, like a zombie. Finding a seat outside you plopped down unceremoniously. Your legs ached, maybe you had tired yourself out in the end. As tiredness sank into your bones, numbness overtook you whole once again. Not quite like before, like a soothing caress, more like a piercing melancholy wrapping around you like a comforting, yet exclusive blanket. Nothing had felt more empty before, but your lonely being with eyes haggard and heart bleeding out of your chest.

The sound of a deep sigh made you realize that someone had taken a seat near you, and you were surprised to see none other than Bianca on the other side of the sofa. She didn’t look too happy either.

Unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth, you blurted.

“Are you alright?”

The siren whipped her head to you, icy blue eyes half throwing daggers, half…sad?

“Why do you care?”

Her harsh tone could sound rude, but you knew better than that. Your question had been incredibly random, you weren’t even sure that Bianca actually wished to talk with you, but you recognized the hurt in her eyes.

At your unfazed expression, she sighed once again, “I’m sorry for that,” she excused herself, “this was uncalled for.”

You only shrugged, “I guess this is what I get for spoiling your evening.”. Bianca’s eyebrows rose slightly at your bitter tone. This wasn’t usual for you.

“You’re not the one ruining my night, trust me,” she mumbled, glancing at the ballroom.

Following her gaze, your eyes landed on Xavier, sitting at one of the tables and gaze locked on Wednesday and her date. His knuckles were white and his jaw clenched. If this sight made your heart break a little more, you were pretty sure that Bianca’s did too.

The siren sighed and accepting her defeat, slumped in her seat. Bianca Barclay never slumped.

“He’s not mine anymore, isn’t he?” she whispered out loud.

Your eyes widened at her. Of all people you really didn’t expect Bianca to confide in you. Sensing your disbelief she turned her blue eyes to you. They were glossy with tears.

“I’m not sure I’m the one who can help you with that,” you said with a sorry look.

She scoffed lightly, but the sad look was still plaguing her traits, “I think you can, Y/N. Since when do you love him, exactly?”

The question slightly took you aback. When they had started dating, Bianca had kind of cornered you to give you the classic speech, new girlfriend to best friend, halfway to threats, and had asked you if you loved Xavier then. You had to say no. But now…this wasn’t the same prideful, powerful and confident girl, looking forward to ensuring her superiority. This was the teary-eyed, heartbroken girl who seek answers to get some sort of closure. Who were you to deny her that?

So you sighed, and cast your eyes on your lap, “A long time,” you muttered quietly.

She hummed knowingly; this may be the first time you actually heard her being tired. “To be honest, I was glad he accepted my invitation,” she told you, like confidence. “But I was surprised he didn’t invite you first.”

You coughed weakly, not even bothering to be careful of Bianca seeing the eventual petals that could come out. “Yeah me too,” you whispered, “but it doesn’t matter now.”

Bianca tilted her head, a bit surprised by your words, “Yes it does.”. At your raised eyebrow, she nodded in Xavier’s direction. “Wednesday’s not the only one occupying his mind tonight. He may think he got a poker face, but he doesn’t.”

Out of reflex, you looked once again at Xavier. The blue and yellow lights of the party shone on him, highlighting each of his sharp features. A sob made its way into your throat and you blocked it just before it escaped your mouth. Everything just hurt so much.

“I don’t know what happened between you two recently,” said Bianca with an unknown softness, “but he does care. He worries about you, I know that”

A cough wrecked your body, allowing petals and flowers to fly out of your mouth through your painful throat. Clamping a hand over your mouth under the siren’s perplexed eyes, you sighed in relief when the fit ended. Opening your hand to see as usual blood-coated flowers, you felt your chest ache.

“Well, maybe his concerns won’t be enough this time,” you said weakly. Throwing away the flowers carelessly you avoided Bianca’s concerned gaze. “Maybe I should’ve thought about myself first, for once.”

She let out a dry and tired laugh, “I second that. Maybe I should have too.”

You offered a weak smile. No matter how much you both had, or loved Xavier, you couldn’t deny anymore the hurt it brought upon you. Especially upon you.

“I’m sorry for having invited Xavier,” finally muttered Bianca.

You shrugged, “Don't be. You had every right to try your chance. I knew this might happen”

She nodded, silently appreciating the lack of hate. You were far too tired to give that. “What made you come here, then?”

Remembering your roommate’s words, you smiled a little, “Something along the line of independent women not needing anybody.”

Bianca chuckled at that. Whoever told you that was right.

The arrival of another siren, blessedly unaware of the unexpected and open-heart conversation that had been going on, distracted Bianca from you. Her ability to put on a bright smile in the blink of an eye impressed you. You took that as your cue and got up, returning to the party before Enid or anyone would get worried. This strange bonding time reminded you why you had come in the first place: no matter how broken your heart was, this was about you and getting one last fun night before the dark.

No one could really tell for how long you had been dancing again. Arms up, flowing along the music like nothing around you mattered. In a way, it did. Blurry faces of your friends and smiles that you didn’t know who they belonged to. It was like your mind had blacked out from the rest. Nothing could reach you; not the plaguing thought of your upcoming passing, not the burning sensation through your lungs, the tickling and bitter scrap of petals trying to crawl out of your throat, or the heavy burden of your broken heart. It was just you; for the first time, it was just you and it didn’t frighten you so much anymore.

A warm drop sliding down your forehead broke you out of your trance, making your eyes flutter open. All the students were still dancing without the slightest care of the world, and you thought that you had maybe imagined things. Reaching for the damp spot, you brushed your fingers against it and gave them a look. A sticky, deep red liquid coated them. And before you could wonder what was happening, all hell broke loose. Torrential rain of blood sprouted out of the room’s sprinklers, drenching everyone in the blink of an eye. All the white outfits turned into a deep crimson shade and scream erupted everywhere. Terrified students ran, trying to find cover the best they could, and in the middle of it all, you stood frozen in place.

As soon as the bloody liquid had started to pour it had been like reality had come crashing in. The rational part of your brain screamed at you to run away, to find a shelter; but your eyes were stuck on your trembling hands, bathed in red. Flashes of white flowers and petals echoed in front of your eyes in a never-ending fall, your heart started to spin and suddenly you couldn’t hear anything but the loud and panicked beats of your heart. Like an infernal spiral, your mind started to fall apart, replaying uncomplete scenes in your head; the burning sensation in your chest, tearing your body apart as you gagged blood mixed with flowers, the vision like from far away, of your own body losing grip on itself and laying cold on the ground for merely seconds that still felt like hours, the waking up in cold sweat in the middle of the night, trying to scream but being unable to because of your throat stuffed with petals. God, why did anybody hear the deafening thumping of your blood behind your temples? They were so loud, and your chest, it ached so much! Maybe somebody was calling out for you, you didn’t know. It felt like your head was stuck in cotton wool, and your body trapped within the spiralling of your own mind. And why did it hurt so much, why couldn’t your chest burst open once and for—

“Y/N!!” shouted a voice over the terrified screams. “Y/N we have to go!”

You knew that voice, that you were certain of it. It was the grip on your arm that made you snap back into reality a second later. Drenched in red, Xavier looked at you with frightened eyes.

“You heard me? We have to go!” he repeated.

It took your brain a few more seconds to reconnect fully to reality. It wasn’t fast enough for your legs to register how to walk on your own, so Xavier had to drag you along behind him, trying to reach the room’s exit the quickest way possible. You wondered how long it had taken him to notice that you hadn’t tried to get out on your own.

Someone bumping into you managed to get your mind focused fully again. Catching the smaller frame of Wednesday out of reflex, you immediately noticed that something was wrong. Eyes blown wide and head thrown backwards, something was going on. Immediately, you and Xavier tried to call her, to get her out of this frightening trance. She gasped for air merely a second after, like someone had just resurrected her.

“Eugene’s in danger,” she whispered immediately.

“What?? You let him go on his own?” you snapped back.

“He’s in the woods he’s in danger, I see him he’s in danger,” she continued to ramble, almost like a chant.

Swearing under your breath, you immediately let go of Wednesday muttering a hurried “keep an eye on her” to a flabbergasted Xavier; then you didn’t waste a single second and sprinted out of the room. Damn be your newfound motto about thinking about putting yourself first, you weren’t going to let that kid die.

Reaching the outlines of the wood you cursed loudly at your impractical platforms and quickly got rid of them. Then your erratic run resumed.

“Eugene!” you called from the top of your lungs. “Eugene, where are you?!”

Nothing but silence answered you but you didn’t give up and continued to run, hoping to not be too late. A harsh burning clamped your heart, maybe from the running; it seemed that you didn’t register anymore the petals your body unconsciously rejected now. It roamed through your lungs, making it difficult to breathe now. A sharp wheeze escaped your mouth as a particular rough fit of coughing shook your body, forcing you to stop your run for a moment, leaning on a nearby tree for support. Your lungs tugged on themselves, trying to cling to air for your dear life but nothing could go past through your blood and flowers-filled throat. You choked on nothing, tears springing from the corners of your eyes.

Before you could regain control of your own body, your knees buckled under you and you dropped onto the muddy forest floor, wheezing and clawing at your throat. You gurgled and heaved up a large group of flowers bathing in blood. The feeling of it dripping on your chin and petals stuck inside your mouth wasn’t even the worst.

Then your ears picked up something in the distance. Ever so faintly, a weeping sound. Like pleas, a rasping voice weakly calling out for help.

“Eugene,” you whispered.

Out of instinct, you tried to push yourself standing but your legs flinched under your own weight and you fell limply on the ground. Some more blood escaped your half-opened mouth, dripping on your chest with the other discarded flowers. Eyelids feeling heavy, you started to feel lightheaded as the world around you began to swirl. You tried to move, but even lifting your hand felt impossible.

The sound of hurried footsteps reached your ears, but you couldn’t find the strength to turn over to see who it was. Then without a warning, they turned you over, back on the ground. Wednesday.

“Y/N, did you see the monster? Where’s Eugene??”

Any word that you tried to form came out as pathetic gurgling sounds. The Addams’ eyes flickered to your blood-covered chin, then to the flowers on your chest and on the ground.

“How did that happen?” she asked hurriedly, “did you see Eugene??”

Finally managing to articulate something, you croaked, “...further…down…heard him…please hurry…”

She gripped your hand, looking like she was torn apart between staying with you or looking out for your lost comrade. Sensing her dilemma even with a blurred mind, you weakly squeezed her hand back as an encouragement.

“Go help…him…’f not too late…”

She nodded frantically, almost trembling, “Others are on their way Y/N,” she tried to reassure you, “hold on tight, okay? You’re going to make it.”

You could only nod weakly. But as Wednesday was about to get up, an unknown surge of panic gave you enough energy to grip her forearm tightly. Snapping her head back at you, her eyes widened even more at the pleading expression that faced her.

“Please…” you whimpered, “don’t…don’t let him…see me like this…”

Tears roamed down your cheeks freely, and you felt your strength leave your body with every passing second.

“What?” she asked in confusion.

You wheezed weakly, “d…don’t let him think…think…that it w…as his f-fault,” you pleaded before letting your gripping hand fall on the floor with a thud.

The following seconds felt like hours. The weight of your body seemed enough to bury you in the ground. Some shouts were heard in the distance. Before your mind blacked out, you remembered the shouting voice of Xavier screaming your name. Then the night took over.

The smell of sanitized belongings was the first thing your brain registered when you emerged into consciousness again. Then the white light, blinding even behind closed eyelids. You heard and felt your whole body groan in pain. It was considerably tuned down from what you were used to, still, soreness erupted through your limbs. After a solid minute of struggling you finally opened your eyes.

Awakening in a hospital bed wasn’t something you had ever wished for in your life. Yet, here you were apparently. Taking a look around with groggy eyes, you didn’t even notice a nurse walking by, or her saying something about notifying your legal guardian. It was only a few minutes later when Principal Weems entered your room that you connected the dots. At least, the best you could with your still fuzzy brain.

“Miss L/N,” she said in a soft tone that was tainted with relief, “I’m glad you’re finally awake.”

“I- how long was I out?” you rasped, tongue feeling pasty.

“Almost an entire day,” answered the principal, closing the door behind her. “How are you feeling?”

You winced slightly, a lingering pain piercing your chest still, “Sore. What happened? Did- did you find Eugene?”

Weems pursed her lips but still nodded, “Mr Ottinger is fine, he’s currently getting some treatment in this hospital as well.”

You let out a relieved sigh. At least, Eugene was safe; but she still hadn’t answered all your questions.

As she could read your mind, Weems approached your bed, a serious look on her face.

“Miss Addams and Mister Thorpe found you in the woods,” she started. At the mention of Xavier’s name, your eyes widened in panic. Oh no, what had he seen? How much did he know? Principal Weems narrowed her eyes at your reaction but still carried on, “It seemed that you had passed out from hypoglycemia; at least, that is what both of them believe.”

Her words made you frown slightly, not quite understanding where she was getting at. The serious look on her face, cold like a stone, didn't make you feel any better. But at the same time, you thought you could detect…sadness?

Principal Weems sat on the chair next to your bed and pulled out a folder from her bag.

“The doctors who had auscultated you gave me this,” she said, pulling two blue and white plastic sheets.

The first glance at the x-rays was enough for you to know exactly what it was about.

“We need to talk about whatever this is, miss L/N.”

[Part.6]

A/N: sooo I know I've promised some fluff but this was already so long omg, it'll be on the next part :') Enid roasting Xavier is my new religion not gonna lie (and I couldn't resist hinting a small Enid x Wednesday I'm weak okay) Also: can we please talk about Bianca's outfit at the Rave'n??? I like this character a lot honestly, because well...she's relatable as fuck. I thought she was going to be branded as the cliché school bitch but she's just a teenage girl who's dealing with shitty family problems and broke up with her boyfriend in a kind of rocky way. Yeah, maybe some petty behaviour at the beginning of the show was bitchy, but she's a teenager; we all were bitchy somehow Anyway, I hope you liked this part, I'm currently working on the next, take care of you♥♥

Taglist: [COMPLETE AND CURRENTLY HAVING A BREAKDOWN] Edit: wtf it works now??

@apocalypticnova @libdarkheart @ameliabs-world @certifeidlovergirl @aeisnoa @cat-loves-music @coolchick333 @eringaitskill @sweaterxav @sssleepless @l4venderia @persipeoni @coldheartedmar @littlebabyk @pinksirensong @nushy @raribella @igotanidea @ali-r3n @chaosfrisur @miinnttyy @hershey2813

@cafeaueva @queenofshinigamis @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @imtherealslimmoony @one-oblivious-nerd @amphitritesangels @valckenaux @aliciahlewis @lilsunshine1092 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ahmya-4 @katkoosik @maggie-da-rat @hopelessnessforthehopeful @mk-the-great @neenieweenie @steviesbergthuis @rayliz793 @poison-ivy-737

@katiemrty @vanillaarr @corpsebridenightamare @ghswlz @siriusblacksl0ver @poppyalice2001 @mypsychoticlove @jointherebellion215 @siriwhitewolf @teaganthemorningstar @oblivion-void @fandomstoryreader25 @darkdaydreamer @engenelxver @maddiechapman15 @hannahnikohl @pajerita19 @i-like-trains @tinafuentes @slngarza @lqveharrington @honethatty12 @users09 @honestlyka @athenalive @sunnytkm23 @mjpark15 @joselyn001 @mermaid-painter @sagegreeeeen @hayleesworld96 @sunnyteume @itssomeonereading @vaebeau @spencershotwife @negasonicteenagefathead @ @flowersownme @eileen201804 @peacheskiwi @spiceyhotsherbet @ramiiroll @theweirdone2468 @tempressofthetarot @bambi-munson @apollo 3475 @hes-club

(don’t hesitate to tell me if I’ve forgotten you on the taglist, there had been some issues with it recently so I might have missed some usernames, if so I apologize :D)

#xavier x reader #xavier x you #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thorpe fanfic #reader insert #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday addams #wednesday #hanahaki disease #no beta we die like men

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