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concreteburialplot · 1 month

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Cool About It // 01

01 - Breaking & Entering

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!oc

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 6.3k

summary; Noah runs into an old friend while visiting his hometown for the holidays. Noah convinces Amelia to meet him on the playground they grew up on to catch up. Reminiscing leads them to a midnight adventure that reminds them all too much of the past.

warnings; alcohol consumption, breaking & entering? stealing? kinda?, hallmark-y, nostalgic, talks of family trauma, cops (acab!), vaguely sad & distraught Noah, uses 'Sebastian' as his last name, 18+ MDNI

disclaimer; welcome to my new short series! reminder that this is hallmark-y bc i began writing it in December lol i decided to challenge myself w this fic in multiple ways, one of the biggest ones was writing it in 3rd person vs my comfy world of 1st or 2nd person. I’ve never written in 3rd person so, if it’s not my best, i apologize, i’m sure it will improve lol

a/n: this is au and follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

It had been quite a busy morning, and Amelia was slowly making her way through the longest line she’d had in a while. She finished heating up a cinnamon roll and snapped a lid on what felt like the 75th peppermint mocha she’d made that day.

“Thanks.” Mumbled the distracted patron and stepped off to the side to grab extra napkins.

“Next.” She said while shuffling dollar bills into the clangy register, then looked up motioning to the last customer. Her hazel eyes landed on a man covered in tattoos pre-occupied on his phone. “Next!” Her call was louder than before and this time edged with impatient annoyance.

A familiar pair of dark brown eyes snapped up at her, his gaze more startled than angry.

Amelia’s brows furrowed together and as if on cue, the register dinged closed in time with her realization.

She’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

“Noah?”

The soft velvet of her voice yanked each edge of Noah’s mouth into a wide toothy smile. “Scout?” He asked in the same caught-off-guard tone. His voice was much deeper than she remembered, and he seemed taller, if that was even possible.

She chuckled at the fact that he used his old nickname for her and felt a tinge of warmth bloom on her cheeks. The ends of her pink lips curled up into an adorably genuine smile. “What are you doing here?” She pressed her palms flat against the cold counter leaning forward and letting soft chocolate curls spill over her shoulder.

“Oh, uh, I’m here with Nicholas.” He thumbed over his shoulder towards the town. “He’s here visiting his family, I just tagged along.”

Tagged along.

She should’ve known, of course Noah would be down here with Nick’s family for Christmas. Where else would he be?

“Oh,” She smiled tenderly at his words and nodded. “Of course.”

Every now and then she’d run into Nicholas whenever he came back to town or ran into his parents while out and about, but it was never anything of significance. Whenever it was Nicholas, she wanted more than anything to inquire about Noah or the band but always kept the interactions short, sweet and reserved. The last thing she wanted was to come off as wanting to “catch up” after they gained a larger audience for clout.

He grinned back at her and there was a quiet moment shared between them, as if they both didn’t know what to say. The feeling in the air swung from having nothing to say to having so many words that it was overwhelming to speak.

The gentle moment was broken by the bell dinging above the door as a new customer walked in.

Her first impulse was to make his usual but stopped herself. “Oh um, whatcha want?” She asked, realizing that his tastes had probably changed since he was 16.

“Just a vanilla cold brew is fine, thank you.” He said with a tight-lipped smile, feeling awkward that she was serving him.

She went ahead and filled his cup with the dark amber liquid. “Do you want a snickerdoodle cookie? They’re freshly baked.”

He nods enthusiastically, “Yes please, they’re my favorite.”

She remembered.

Of course, she did.

How could one forget staying up til 2 am at Nick’s house baking cookies and having Top Chef-level trials trying to achieve the perfect spice mixture for what Noah called, “The Most Snick-of-Doodles that could ever Doodle.”

“You got it.” She smiled placing some pastries into a brown paper bag before handing it to him. “I threw in a cinnamon roll for Nicholas, I made sure to give him the one with the most icing.”

“Oh, he’ll love that.” He chuckled gently taking the bag along with his drink. “We should um, catch up soon?”

“Sure.” She pressed her lips together to keep her grin from growing too wide.

Cold fallen leaves crunched beneath Amelia’s feet as she navigated through a park that she hadn’t stepped foot on in a good ten years. A cool chill made her tug her thick knit cardigan tight around her thin frame.

“Noah?” She delicately whisper-yelled into the darkness, the meet-up destination barely lit by the full ivory moon. She should’ve known that Noah wouldn’t be content with catching up at a restaurant or at her house or anywhere normal.

“Scout!” He replied from the swings a bit to her left. A chuckle left his lips, and he quickly clicked the flashlight on his phone, waving it in the air like a search light.

A deep shade of embarrassment coated her pale cheeks, “There’s no streetlights over here!” She walked over and lightly smacked his arm. “It’s dangerous you know.” The weight of her body creaked the metal frame when she fell into the blue swing seat.

“Or you’re just getting old and need glasses.” He teased with a slight slur riding the end of his words.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” She responded with a playful glare.

She looked over at him thinking how funny it was seeing him so large and full grown in such a tiny, low swing. It looked extremely disproportionate and goofy, like a Great Dane in a shopping cart.

He handed her a bottle of cheap red wine, half drank already.

“Oh, got started without me huh?” She sassed before stealing the bottle from his fingers. “Couldn’t have done beer?” She tips the glass bottle until bitter, dry alcohol infiltrates every tastebud, reminding her why she’d switched to martinis or seltzers in her later years.

He waved her off with a tsk, “Too much hassle. Wine was easier. And you took fuckin’ forever!”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes playfully, it wasn’t like she was all that upset over the wine over beer, just that he drank so much of it already. She pressed the mouth of the bottle to her lips once more taking another hefty swig and handed it back to him. “Where’s Nick?”

“Ah,” He swiped the bottle back and took a long gulp. “You know, family stuff.” He wiped the back of hand across his mouth. “I can only handle – so much of it.” His hands motion off his words. “They mean well I just… can’t do too much of it at once.”

Growing up with parents that were as dismissive and absent, then gone all at once like his, knowing how to “family” was odd and foreign to him. As Noah got older, he began to realize that basic family etiquette was a trait he fundamentally lacked, as if he played hooky on some Family 101 course in his formative years. It wasn’t something he inherently prioritized and, at least when he was younger, it would irritate him when friends or colleagues put family above things that he deemed more important, like band related obligations. He never had to deal with family of his own, put it on his schedule or allot energy for it. He simply didn’t understand it.

Sure, he came off as rude at times, leaving friend’s family events early or mentally checking out mid-day. It wasn’t his fault that it was exhausting and overstimulating for him. To him it seemed natural, as if everyone felt that way, something akin to the universal experience of trying to escape school or work. It never crossed his mind that people might actually enjoy their families, nor could he comprehend the necessity for it.

It depended on who, what and when but for the most part it was exhausting to him. Some groups were better than others, like Nick’s family. Over the years they’d housed him for weeks at a time, months even sometimes. As far as Noah was concerned, the Ruffilo’s were his family. He always came and went as he pleased, always an open-door policy to the Ruffilo refuge. But that didn’t exclude Nick’s family from his unintended ignorance and tendency to run. He just could only take so much at once. Lucky for him, they never seemed to mind his behavior much. They never batted an eye; they understood him for who he was and why. Their house was one of the only places he felt comfortable, one of the only places he ever called home.

“I know.” She nodded, wrapping her hands around the thick swing chains. “I remember.”

“Right.” He replies solemnly, taking another sip before swapping it back.

Vivid memories filled Amelia’s brain of 14-year-old Noah tapping on her window like a freshly escaped felon looking for asylum. The heavy, panicked breathing and glassy eyes never matched the mischievous grin plastered across his face. Holidays were the worst; she recalls keeping her window unlocked during the winter months, so he’d always have an alternative escape. The Ruffilo’s were a festive bunch that took any excuse to celebrate. Naturally, Nicholas also only possessed so much adolescent tolerance to endure so many familial festivities so, he too would sneak away with Noah at times but, for the most part it was just him and Amelia celebrating holidays together on her bedroom floor.

The air was still between them while she took a couple sips of sanguine liquid trying to catch up to him.

“So, you’re a big ol’ rockstar now huh?” The girl smiled, nudging him with her elbow trying to lighten the mood. Even though the words are positive and light, they tasted so sad on her tongue.

He laughed, something she hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime. She nearly forgot what it sounded like, but it hadn’t changed really, just a little deeper now. His now tattooed hands grasped both metal swing chains and leaned back a little, using the tension to suspend his body while he observed the stars above them. “Not big. Just opening for some real bands now. Finally able to headline our own little tour soon. Fuckin’ took long enough.” He dismissed the compliment immediately, snuffing it into the ground like a shriveled-up cigarette butt.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his response. He might’ve not seen it as notable accomplishments, but she knew better than to place the validity of success in the hands of someone riddled with imposter syndrome.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s pretty fucking cool.” She leaned against the chain closest to the long-haired boy.

His lips pulled to a smile while his eyes stayed focused on the sky. “Thanks.”

She followed his gaze and chuckled, “Sky’s pretty interesting huh?” She teased.

“It is when you barely get to see stars. I never really get to see them in LA. Sometimes I forget they’re even up there.” He replied sadly before sitting back up.

Amelia took another sip of the almost empty bottle, starting to feel the warmth of alcohol spread through her body. Something about the stars and Noah made a memory cross her mind that made her burst out into a cackle. “Do you remember when you put SO much work into your astronomy project for the science fair and fucking Nicholas won with his fucking-”

“Moldy bread!” They said loudly in unison before erupting into booming laughter.

“God I was so pissed.” Noah shook his head, “And then I had to eat his fucking moldy bread.”

“Oh yeah because you lost the bet! I forgot all about that!” Laughter filled her ribcage in a way it hadn’t in years, and it felt really fucking good.

“I was so fucking sure I’d win! I should’ve known, Nick has always been the golden boy. Teacher’s-pet swindling ass.” He kicked the sand just as he would’ve at 8 years old. It’s funny how people’s mannerisms don’t really change all that much as they age. Being there with him on their old playground felt like being in a time machine. “Worst food poisoning I ever had.”

“Didn’t you borrow the telescope you used from Nick too?” She questioned, wondering if she just made that part up in her head.

“Yeah, yeah I think I did actually.” His brows furrowed as he dug through his memories. “You know what? It’s probably still in their garage!”

“Really? Maybe you can find it tomorrow.” She poured the rest of the wine into her mouth, savoring the cheap bitterness of it pooling on her tongue.

“But the stars are so pretty tonight!” He whined in classic Noah fashion.

“Yeah so? What are you gonna do? Break into their garage?” She chuckled jokingly.

He straightened up and looked over at her with wide eyes like a lightbulb just lit above his head - a look she remembered all too well.

“No.” She warned, just like she would’ve back then at whatever scheme Noah concocted in his devious little brain.

He gave her a familiar mischievous toothy grin before pushing harshly off the swing.

“No, no, no.” She sighed as he already left his seat swinging and made his way towards the street.

“Noah!” She called after him. When he showed no sign of stopping, she let out a long sigh, questioning how she ended up having to stop a 6’4 man from breaking into houses in the middle of the night. She pushed off the swing, leaving it clanging and swaying behind her.

“Noah I’m not br-“ Her yell dulled down to a hush when she caught up to him. “I’m not breaking into the Ruffilo house at midnight!” Her words were stern but to Noah they just sounded like a child’s warning against curse words.

“We’re not breaking in ‘melia.” He didn’t match her whisper, his voice was loud and proud for anyone in the night to hear. “I remember the garage code.” He announced with drunken pride.

She scoffed, “And what if someone hears the garage, Noah? Then what?”

He shrugged, “Nick is staying there, we’ll just say we were trying to see him or something. You know I have free reign there anyway.”

“This is a really shitty plan, Noah.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a displeased frown.

“It’s a great plan.” He stated confidently, walking in long strides that she could barely keep up with. “You know all my plans are great.”

“Hmm.” She hummed skeptically. “Statistically, I don’t think that’s true.”

Walking down the street with Noah to Nick’s family home in the dead of the night felt so… familiar, as if she was walking in the same exact footsteps as 15-year-old Amelia had, like her memories were tangible in her hands again. She tightened her fists slightly to remind herself that the past was not solid in her hands again. She wasn’t 15 again on some spontaneous, teenage adventure – but the alcohol-fueled adrenaline prickling at her fingertips begged to differ.

Even past midnight, the small neighborhood’s Christmas lights shined bright. Normally, she’d find them obnoxious, but tonight they seemed much sweeter, only adding to the nostalgia.

“Oh no? All of my plans worked out one way or another.” He defended as if it was factual with a straightened back and pointed finger. “All but one.”

Her brows knitted tightly together at his words, because in her memory, there was a good chunk of her life spent stuck in detention because of his schemes.

“And which one would that be?” She sassed back, watching as his speed picked up even more after her question.

“Not important.” He waved the brunette off, “C’mon, we’re here.”

Unexpectedly, his hand slips around her wrist, and it wraps tingly electricity up her arm then across her entire body. All at once the butterflies that used to be so perpetually embedded in her stomach returned in a rampant flurry. Her gaze slowly snapped up to meet his face. His smile hadn’t changed in the near 10 years apart and neither did the bright glint in his espresso eyes. Time seemed to slow around them for that split second where the electricity sizzled beneath both their fingertips and their eyes found each other’s just as easily as they used to. In that brief moment she could’ve sworn she was looking into the eyes of rail thin, tattooless teenage Noah.

“I know they got a Ring doorbell, so we gotta hide between the cars.” He whispered and ducked them both down as he weaved her through the vehicles in the driveway.

“I can’t fucking believe you talked me into this Noah!” She whisper-yelled at him, wanting nothing more than to properly reprimand him.

“Sh!”

They finally found themselves in front of the garage keypad conveniently out of view of the doorbell camera. Noah blinked blankly at plastic number pad without moving. His inked fingers tapped on his own crossed arm while his tongue stayed lodged between his lips in thought.

“Well? Go ahead! Get it over with.” She insisted, motioning urgently to the garage wanting it to be over as fast as possible. She tucked her hands across her body and into her sides giving her some semblance of comfort. The last thing she wanted was for their childish midnight antics to wake up the entire house.

“Hey! Give me time.” He rushed back, lifting a finger in her direction to shush her.

“Time? I thought you said you remembered it!”

“I do! …I think… if they haven’t changed it.” His tone much less confident than before.

“Noah!”

“Hush!” He pressed a finger to his lips at her and took a hesitant step towards the keypad. With a couple semi-sure clicks, the garage door slid open slowly. Amelia exhaled in relief at how the metal clangs of the garage were much quieter than she remembered. Still though, they creaked too loud for her liking, feeling embarrassment and anxiety flood her body.

“Yes!” Noah squeezed his fists up in victory. “See, told you I remembered.”

“Lucky guess.” She rolled her eyes with a smile.

Her eyes widened as the garage door unveiled a gorgeous white car. It was by no means a luxury car, not a Lexus or anything of the sort, but a high enough model to make you look twice. “Damn Mama Ruffilo, ridin’ in style now.”

Noah grinned as he scoots around the car. His smile was reserved, like she had discovered some award he was keeping hidden out of modesty. “Yeah, that’s the one we got her for Mother’s Day.”

“We?” She questioned, her head cocking to the side a bit.

“Yeah, Nick and me. We each paid half.”

“Oh wow, that’s really nice of you.” She replied softly. It didn’t take a genius to calculate just how much it would cost two broke DIY touring bandmates to pay for a new car, even in halves. The vehicle was shiny and spotless, evidently well taken care of – the type of care you’d put into a possession you never thought you’d own, the type of care that came from deep gratitude.

“It’s the least I could do for ya know… everything she’s done for me.”

Amelia nodded knowing exactly what he meant. It was no secret that he was more than a family friend to them, but it was nice to see that he recognized it too. While Noah might not have attended every family event or stayed for long, he showed his love and appreciation in his own small ways. Gifts were one of his favorite ways of doing so. Yeah, Noah might’ve only stayed at a Thanksgiving for an hour or two for food, but he was there long enough to make mental notes for next year, to bring extra cranberry sauce because Nick’s abuela loves it or extra croutons since Nick’s mom tends to snack on them while she cooks. He paid attention and he loved deeply, even if it didn’t seem that way on the surface.

He rustled around some miscellaneous garage junk in the corner, making more noise than Amelia felt comfortable with. She stood up on her tip toes to watch carefully him over the pristine car with her heart beating in her chest begging to rush him again.

“Ah! I knew it’d be here!” He said a little too loud out of excitement and promptly covered his mouth. His wide brown eyes met hers in a silent ‘oops, shit, sorry!’ plea.

In desperate need to escape the anxiety inducing mission, Amelia ran to the end of the driveway the second she saw the telescope in Noah’s hand. It took him longer than it should’ve just to snatch the item, but she didn’t question it or investigate much when he sped right past her after the garage began squeaking closed.

They made it out in record time, holding in their laughter until they reached the end of the street. It only took one look at each other to send them into a cackling fit. Amelia’s delicate hands found his thin arm and used him for stability, while the laughter shook her entire frame.

When they make it back to the park, he set down the telescope and unravels something she somehow didn’t notice he was carrying before.

“Did you steal that from their garage?!”

He grinned and proudly pulled another bottle of wine, white this time, from the blanket he also borrowed. “Yeah? And I’ll just replace them when I bring the telescope back tomorrow.” He carefully sat the wine down at her feet and spread out the buffalo-print blanket over the grass.

“You are so bad!” She chuckled, smacking him playfully with the excess of her long cardigan sleeve.

“Isn’t that what girls want? A bad boy?” He smirked jokingly, getting down on his knees to angle the telescope just right so that they didn’t need to stand up to use it.

She pressed her lips together as she watched him. Sure, that’s what some girls want, but not her. Even when he was landing them in detention every other day and keeping them out way past curfew – even when everyone else considered him a “bad boy” – she knew he wasn’t, not really.

Even now, whenever he got on stage, covered in ink, growling like a demon – she knew he wasn’t, and has never been, “bad”. Not the way she knew him. Amelia had a talent for seeing through people and she always saw right through Noah, from the first time she ever saw him in the back of her 3rd grade class. And all through adolescence, she saw him clearly through all his stormy confliction and thick brick walls.

Noah never saw it of course; how could he believe that someone as sugary sweet as Amelia could possibly ever see him as anything more than comical the social mask he wore with friends. In fact, he would even go as far to believe his mask was thickest and most opaque around her. Whether or not that was factual, didn’t lessen her ability to see him, really see him.

Being told you’re so wrong for so long, makes you believe that no one could ever see you as right. No matter how many friends Noah had at his parties, or fans in his crowds or girls in his bed, he never felt as though anyone saw him as enough. He got so exhausted from constantly trying to outdo himself that sometimes he forgot what exactly he was trying to accomplish.

Amelia never once believed the “bad influence, bad boy” propaganda their parents or teachers ever accused him of. To her, he was just Noah; the weird emo kid in the back of her classes, the neighbor down the street, the other older “brother” of the youngest girl scout in her troop. Amelia knew Noah at his core.

“Ah, bad boys are overrated.” She waved off his words casually.

He turned and gave her an unconvinced look, “Yeah, sure.” he glared playfully before sitting back on his legs. “Well, it’s ready if you wanna look.”

Amelia crawled across the blanket to meet him and peered through the telescope. Billions of tiny stars flooded the glass lens with twinkles and glimmers you’d never be able to see normally. Fluffy white clouds interrupted the view every so often, but it didn’t take away from the breathtaking scene.

“Whoa.” She mouthed quietly, just taking in the sight. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Sure is.” Noah agreed quietly, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them while he watched her.

They took some turns looking out of the telescope and passing the wine bottle back and forth before finally resting side by side on the picnic fabric. The air around them both was full of dwindling laughter over Noah telling silly stories about him and Nicholas and their roommates in LA. At surface level, he seemed to be doing well, despite claiming to hate LA, he appeared to be thriving there. Perhaps it was just the roommates that he enjoyed living with. Noah was never one to enjoy solitude, at least not for long periods of time. When he lived in their hometown, he was rarely wherever he was staying at the time. Getting comfortable anywhere was never his goal or motive. For the most part, it seemed like he enjoyed the constant change, the running. However, the way he talked about their home in California, all the stories he shared that brought the grandest smile to his face or the loudest boom from his chest all took place at their home. Amelia wondered what it must feel like for him to be back in their dreary little town, and if he rattled off all those stories was because he was homesick.

As the space between them flooded with a silence that was equally comfortable and uncomfortable, a question bubbled up that had been eating at Amelia from the moment she laid eyes on the tired darkness hanging beneath Noah’s eyes. His grin for most of the night was wide and toothy but she knew him better than that.

“So,” She turned her head towards him. “How are you, really?”

His eyes stayed transfixed on the stars above and he let a dense quiet settle over them before speaking.

“It must get so exhausting.” He stated, ignoring her question all together.

Her brows furrowed at his words, “What does?”

“Being so bright all the time.” He stated flatly, with a low dejected tone lacing his words.

“The stars?” She questioned with her brows still knitted.

“Sure. The Moon, the cosmos, all of it.” He brought his hands to interlace over his tummy. “Sure, the moon gets a break during the day and gets to disappear for a bit every month. And the stars get to die eventually.

“Right…?”

“But a star’s entire existence is to be bright - they only exist to be bright and then die. The moon works every night to serve as a giant nightlight and to shift some waves around. It must be so exhausting, all of it – being so bright all the time just to burn out into nothing.”

Noah had always been good at avoiding both his feelings and Amelia’s prying questions. It seemed age and time hadn’t changed that specific skill set. Maybe it’s true what they say, people never really change. It worried her that he might’ve not changed at all in that way.

“I mean,” She shifted her head to face the stars again trying to find the answers in the same place he was getting the questions. “You’re not wrong… but, think about the good that they do. The moon does so much on its own for us, you know the tides, the earth’s axis and all that. But we wouldn’t even be here staring at the sky without it all. They’re pretty and,” She shrugs. “And maybe, sometimes, that’s enough.”

“Right.” He responded curtly, pausing a long while before speaking again. “If the moon had consciousness… do you think it would care that most people know it for being pretty and not for being good at its job?” He pondered, not once looking over at the girl, perhaps afraid that his façade would crumble, and he’d spill the truth if he met her eyes.

Amelia’s brows furrowed together once more as she processed his words, doing mental gymnastics to decipher the underlying meaning. Another skill set Noah possessed was being dramatically cryptic, especially when it came to his internal turmoil. Whenever he had some battle waging within him, he suddenly transformed into a makeshift philosopher.

Looking the way he does, it’s fair to assume that his band had garnered recent attention due to his looks – most men would revel in the fleeting female attention, but not Noah. At least not enough to keep him from being contemplative on the lawn of their old park.

Girls or not, Noah had always been particular about his craft. He was lucky he found Nicholas first since he really let Noah take reigns of the entire operation. Like a true perfectionist, Noah carefully curated every song, every show, every rehearsal – even back when they were just playing in Nick’s garage with shitty amps.

Amelia analyzed his words, thinking over her response carefully. “I think the moon would be grateful for the attention either way.” She commented gently. “As long as she’s doing the job she’s meant to do, her beauty getting noticed is just a bonus. As long as she’s doing what she’s destined to do, I think she’d be content doing whatever she needs to, regardless of the affection towards her.”

“Yeah, I guess she would.”

Looking up at the sky, Amelia noticed just how round the moon was that night and how perfectly it was centered in the sky. It looked like the inside of a circus tent, like the star littered sky was just a patterned fabric pierced right in the middle by a giant moon-shaped hole. It felt like it too – as if they were the only ones in some carnival tent far away from anything bad. Below such a vast cosmos, they were just tiny specs of dust in the universe, and she was grateful for the temporary solitude. After years of not even being around Noah, he still made her feel the same. He had a knack for dissolving any real-life problems when they were alone together. When she was with him, she was in a world of their own making. She wondered if she did the same for him, and for his sake, she really hoped she did.

But alas, the bubble they created together that night was not one that could exist forever, and the big top tent must come down after a grand show.

Amelia and Noah ran out of words, at least ones meant to be said that night. They laid side by side with her right hand and his left not even a centimeter apart.

Noah was unaware of whether it was fear, nerves or sadness that fueled the drumming beneath his brittle ribs, but that same force also tugged an invisible string to lift his pinky.

Amelia’s eyes rounded and every muscle in her body tensed up the millisecond she felt him move up and hover over her own pinky.

But before he got the chance to lock over her finger, there was a frightening rustling behind some playground equipment followed by a bright light aimed right at them, blinding the pair.

“Hey! You kids aren’t allowed in here!” Boomed a deep, authoritative voice.

Amelia propped herself up on an elbow and immediately used her arm as a shield to keep the blinding light from burning her retinas any further.

Noah closed his eyes and let out a deep breath through his nose. It was one of the many familiar sounds from the town Noah hoped to never hear again.

“Sebastian? What an unpleasant surprise.” The voice taunted with a vicious edge.

“Officer Hawke.” The eyeroll was thick in Noah’s voice. “So great to see you.”

The big burly man shifted the flashlight beam to Noah directly. “Not shocking that the first time I see you back in town you’re up to no good.” He moved the light back to Amelia’s face. “Also, not shocking that you’ve reunited with your old partner in crime. Corrupting Miss. Alastor again, are we?”

“Officer, we just fell asleep earlier, we didn’t mean to be here so late.” Amelia lied for Noah like she always had. Her and Nick had been the goodie-two-shoes that were always bailing or covering for the long-haired boy. Well, Amelia was truly good, Nick was just skilled at masking his deviant tendencies, using his sweet golden-boy allure to fool everyone. As much as she hated breaking the rules, she secretly loved when Noah enabled it. Her teenage years wouldn’t have been nearly as fun or memorable without the two mischievous boys. Even just lying in the park with Noah after dark made her feel the most alive she’d had in years. It was exhilarating, no matter how much she reprimanded the boy for his reckless rebellion.

“Mhm. Sounds about right, you covering for Mr. Sebastian here, for god knows why.” He speculated, unconvinced. “It’s like I stepped back in time. It seems you both haven’t changed much.”

While the cop had been berating the two, Noah had already began packing up the picnic trying to end the interaction as quickly as possible.

“Sorry officer, it won’t happen again.” She lied.

“Sure.” He retorted. “Get you and your boyfriend out of here. Don’t let me catch you in here again.”

With that he turned and headed back to his vehicle. It was surprising that he just left the pair– not surprising that he just sat and watched them from the comfort of his cop car across the street.

Amelia helped Noah pack everything up before they made their escape from the park. Shortly after they were down the street, the cop car finally drove off. She walked in the direction of her house, thinking that Noah would part ways to maybe head towards Nick’s house to return the stolen items or to Vince’s where he was staying for the time being, but he stayed walking alongside her. He was quiet, which for Noah was strange, especially with her.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me home? I know you’re staying in the opposite direction.” She said, stuffing her cold hands in her pockets.

“I want to. It’s dangerous for you to walk alone.” He replied flatly, kicking a pebble across the sidewalk concrete.

Her house wasn’t particularly far from the other two’s, nothing in the tiny town was necessarily far from each other. With a town as small as theirs, a night walk home wouldn’t usually be considered dangerous.

“Well, thanks.” She replied cautiously.

She let her mind wander to the interaction they had at the park with Officer Hawke. Noah’s mood had been fairly consistent all night up until then. She mentally scolded herself for not realizing that running into the overly familiar cop would affect his demeanor. Maybe she just assumed that after so many years into adulthood he’d be over it, but evidently, it was foolish and incredibly mindless for her to believe so.

The rest of the walk was silent, just filled with the sounds of nature in the winter. The crisp cool air zipping with the wind, crashing into every solid object available while owls coo-ed into the darkness.

Finally, they arrived at the chain-link gate of Amelia’s small home. She rested her arm atop the pointy wires of the fence. Any other night she’d probably invite him in, but it was so late and all of the night’s events had already been enough to overfill her tummy with static-y nerves.

“Well, I-“ They fumble over each other’s words. Warmth blooms across Amelia’s cheeks at the joint misstep.

“You go.” She urged.

“No, you go.” He pushed back with a sheepish grin.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and dropped her attention down to her feet. “I was just gonna say that this was… nice.” Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “It was really nice to see you again Noah.” Her tone soft and genuine, as her eyes meet his again.

He was unprepared for how her eyes looked with the moonlight shining directly into them. He couldn’t remember the last time he looked into them so clearly. He forgot how different they were from each other, well, they weren’t really – but they were when one spent looking at them as intently as Noah had since he was 8 years old. Her eyes were both a hazel but one much more brown while the other had a pretty emerald hue.

“Yeah, it was really nice.” His words sounded true, but his voice was still strained by the sadness from the walk there. “I’m really happy I went into the shop this morning.”

Her lips worked overtime to keep from pulling into a giant grin and suddenly she was grateful for the darkness hiding the red staining her cheeks. “Yeah, me too.”

Noah sucked in a breath to speak but pauses, before returning again, “Um - Nick’s family is throwing their annual Christmas party this weekend, I’m sure he and the Ruffilo clan would love to see you.” He stated with his words moving slightly faster than normal almost like he was nervous to even ask, which is silly isn’t it? Being anxious to invite an old friend to a holiday party you both attended every year growing up? It shouldn’t be that nerve wreaking, right? He scratched the back of his neck. “If you want that is.”

Her eyes nearly light up enough to cut through the darkness. “Yeah,” She beamed a sweet smile up at him. “I think I’d really like that.”

taglist; @lma1986 @alastriaa @missduffsblog @xxkittenkissesxx @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens @measuredingold @jilliemiw86

[comment to be added to taglist<3]

A/N; thank you so much for reading - again this is my first time writing in 3rd person so i hope it was decent! i hope you enjoyed even though it is definitely not christmas time lmao - lmk what you think! 💗

#hope you liked it!#concreteburialplot works #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fluff #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #nosh sebastian x fem!oc #noah sebastian series

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miasmaghoul · 8 months

Note

MIASMA i am having thoughts right now. thoughts about dew cutting his finger open three songs in, and aeon gettin all predatory bc he smells blood, and cornering dew backstage so he can get those fingers in his mouth and lick at the wound until it opens back up again, getting all his sweaty fingers in his mouth and licking them clean

He's amazed he can smell it over the stink of the crowd.

Quintessence ghouls are extra sensitive to scent, and the peppermint oil Mountain had given him for the inside of his balaclava wore off halfway through Kaisarion. Too many bodies in too little space, the stench of humanity - sweat and tears and the heady aroma of adoration - filling his nostrils.

But here they are, barely through the intro to Faith, and all Aeon can smell is smoke-tinged copper.

It's all he can focus on, fingers moving on autopilot while he tracks Dew across the stage. The tick of his earpiece makes his eye twitch, but he doesn't blink. Can't, not when he catches that flash of red on the other ghoul's right pinky.

It's barely a nick, but it's enough. Enough to have Aeon's mouth watering, fangs shimmering through his glamour as he imagines lapping up the few drops of crimson decorating Dew's finger. So lost in it that he misses his next cue, fumbles a handful of notes and earns a hoot from his side of the stage.

It doesn't matter. Nether does the curious look he gets from Rain, nor the chuckle from Swiss. Nothing matters but the little ghoul on the other side of the stage, fingering his way through a flawless solo. Aeon growls to himself when he finishes, watching Dew move to wipe his messy hand on his pants.

He pauses at the last second, though. Turns his head, stage lights glinting in his lenses. Aeon's growl ratchets up a notch when Dew stares over at him, fingers twitching against his fretboard. He can just make out the burning orange of the other ghoul's eyes.

He gives Aeon a finger wave with his stained pinky, and Aeon swears Dew smiles behind his balaclava.

The rest of the show barely registers, a mindless drone of guitars and drums and the shrieks of their congregation. He watches Dew through it all, playing on memory alone while a very specific hunger gnaws at his stomach. He's drooling down his chin by the end of Square Hammer, chest rumbling in a growl that is utterly beyond his control.

Aeon slithers his way through the lineup when it comes time for bows, and there is nothing kind about the way he grips Dew's sweaty hand.

He smells even better up close. Like burnt cinnamon, bitter salt and heat-warped metal. He doesn't let go after they bow, and the little ghoul doesn't fight when Aeon drags him backstage before he's even fully upright.

It's nothing to pull him though the halls, past crew and venue staff. Dew bitches when he stumbles, trips over his boots, but Aeon pays it no mind. He's too busy shoving his way into the green room. Too busy flinging Dew against the wall. Too busy bullying him into the corner as he rips his mask off, snarling behind his face covering while the little ghoul stares through his lenses.

Dew definitely smiles this time. His tongue pokes though his balaclava as he licks his lips, and Aeon's eyes dart after it.

"Did you need something?" Dew tries to taunt, but it's just breathless enough to raise the hairs on the back of Aeon's neck.

"Give it to me," he orders, low and demanding, and the little ghoul's head thuds back against the wall. Dew can't hide the way his chest heaves or the way his shoulders slump.

"Why don't you make me?"

Oh, Aeon is going to bite.

He grips Dew's wrist with a snarl, long fingers digging into the soaked fabric of his compression shirt when he yanks it up. Dew gasps at the force, but Aeon pays him no mind. Too focused on the tiny red line just below the first knuckle of Dew's little finger.

"It's not bleeding," he complains, dragging his nose along the outside of Dew's hand. His tongue follows it, and Aeon's mouth is flooded with salt and the metallic tang of guitar strings. Dew shivers.

"It was just a scratch," he says with a shrug, trying for casual and landing on shaky. "Guess you missed out."

Aeon smiles.

"I can fix that."

In a flash his fangs appear, and before Dew can so much as blink Aeon's dragging one along that cut. Deeper than his string had sliced. Deep enough to make the little ghoul hiss.

Deep enough to pour ruby red ecstacy into Aeon's waiting mouth.

Dew swears under his breath when Aeon laves a hungry tongue over the wound. Sweat and blood mingle on his tastebuds, a singular, intoxicating combination that has his stomach aching and his cock filling out against his zipper. It tastes so much sweeter than he'd imagined, and it's impossible not to take all of Dew's finger in his mouth and suck.

Dew groans, grabbing a fistful of Aeon's vest. Aeon stares him down while he indulges, violet boring into molten orange. Dew's eyes are so wide behind his mask, but he winces when Aeon licks at the cut he caused. It's the smallest reaction, blink and you'd miss it, but Aeon catches every moment.

All too soon the bloodflow stops, and Aeon pulls Dew's finger from his mouth with a wet pop. A string of red-tinged saliva connects it to his tongue, and he can see the way Dew hones on it.

"Tasty," Aeon coos, kissing the tip of Dew's pinky. He trails warm lips down the little ghoul's quivering hand, nipping at pronounced veins along the way. He licks at the inside of Dew's wrist, teases thin skin with sharp fangs. "Think I could drink you dry, firecracker."

Dew can't hide the way his hips twitch.

"Then maybe you should try."

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #dewdrop ghoul #aeon ghoul #aeon/dew #aeon x dew #hey look an actual ficlet this time omg #cw blood #i dont love this but im tired so have it anyway

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swan-of-sunrise · 2 months

Text

Hawkeye (Part I)

Summary: Six days before Christmas, a four-month pregnant (Y/N) accompanies Sam and Bucky to a performance of Rogers: The Musical while Steve and Carina stay home, and any hope of a quiet Christmas for the growing Rogers-(Y/L/N) family is dashed when the married couple catches a shocking news report that threatens to expose their friend as the world’s most prolific vigilante.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi there and welcome to the 4-part series centering around Hawkeye and the Christmas of 2024! This is such an underrated and underappreciated show, and I always knew that I wanted to write (Y/N), Steve and their growing family into it (and give a little extra love to Clint, ‘cause he deserves it!). This’ll be very faithful to the show, but expect a few surprises along the way lol thank you for reading, and I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part I) December 19th, 2024 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Steve Rogers, Brooklyn (Previous One-Shot)

With Christmas only a week away, the Rogers-(Y/L/N) house was filled to the brim with festive cheer. Their beautifully adorned tree stood tall in the living room beside their grand piano and throughout the rest of the house, they’d set out their plethora of holiday decorations; thanks to Steve’s growing proficiency at baking, the air was laced with the mouthwatering aroma of peppermint, gingerbread and vanilla. The only thing that could improve their cheerful home was the laughter of close friends inspired by the greatly anticipated opening of Broadway’s newest hit show, Rogers: The Musical.

“I’m tellin’ you, Steve, you missed out on one hell of a show!” Sam twisted the cap off his beer and smirked as he took a long sip. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but watchin’ these two trying their damndest to keep their cool was way more entertaining than watchin’ Nick Fury sing.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at her best friend’s exaggeration, taking off her jewelry piece by piece and looking through the living room mirror that she was stood before at her highly-amused husband seated behind her. “Don’t listen to Birdbrain, sweetheart, he’s embellishing the truth yet again; as long as you ignore all the blatant historical inaccuracies, it’s a perfectly enjoyable musical.”

“That’s easy for you to say, doll, they didn’t have you doin’ a corny tap dance number to somehow symbolize the hell of war,” Bucky grumbled under his breath, still miffed by his out-of-character portrayal in the musical and Sam’s overly-enthusiastic reaction whenever ‘Sergeant Bucky Barnes’ had appeared onstage to sing or dance. “Trust me, buddy, you saved yourself a whole heap of annoyance and justifiable indignation by staying home.”

“Well, I figured that my brief brush with showbiz back in ’43 was plenty enough for one lifetime,” Steve replied with a grin, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he got up from the couch and crossed the living room to help (Y/N) undo the clasp of her necklace. “Even one as long as mine. But hey, I had a stack of unfinished sketches and my little angel to keep me company here at home, and I didn’t have to watch the guy playing me sing a power ballad to a giant poster of Uncle Sam.”

When the necklace’s chain loosened, (Y/N) turned around and pressed her lips against her husband’s in a brief but sweet kiss of thanks. “I should count myself lucky; the rest of the world has to buy a ticket to a hit Broadway show to hear Steve Rogers belt out a power ballad, but all I have to do is listen in on him whenever he takes a shower.”

Sam and Bucky laughed at that and after a chuckling Steve retaliated by tickling the sensitive skin of her neck and stealing another kiss from her, (Y/N) headed upstairs to change out of her black cocktail dress and into her pajamas. She breathed a sigh of relief when she kicked off her black kitten heels and after peeling off her dress, she hung it over the back of her vanity’s chair and smoothed a hand over the satin slip that covered the slight swell of her four-month-pregnant belly. “Thanks for being so cooperative in there tonight, gumball. I had a really fun time with your Uncle Sam and your Uncle Bucky.”

Unfortunately, (Y/N)’s second pregnancy was almost the polar opposite of her first; where she hadn’t begun to show until her second trimester and she never once experienced morning sickness, she was already transitioning into maternity wear and she’d been plagued with intense nausea for over a month straight that was only just beginning to ease up. Their night on the town served as both an enjoyable evening with friends at a so-bad-it’s-good musical adaptation of her husband’s life, and a test to see how well she’d do during her latest book promotion tour in January.

It seemed as though she’d be able to physically handle all the interviews, press conferences and book signing, but she was still working on preparing herself mentally to discuss the chapter of her life that had brought her the greatest joys and largest despairs. While Assemble: The Unabridged History of the Avengers was the definitive chronicle of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, it wasn’t quite as unabridged as one would expect; the remaining Avengers had agreed on what details should be kept from the public – namely, their utilization of Pym Particles to achieve time travel, the entirety of the time heist and Clint’s five-year-long stint as the vengeful Ronin – so not only would she be tasked with discussing the deaths of her friends and allies, she’d also have to carefully work to keep those certain details a secret. Not an easy feat when you’re already experiencing pregnancy brain, she thought to herself with an inward sigh, slipping into her satin nightgown and tugging her robe on as she crept across the hall into Carina’s dimly-lit nursery.

Predictably, her fifteen-month old daughter was fast asleep in her crib, curled up under her colorful Wakandan-made blanket and clutching her stuffed white wolf; Indy, their senior German Shepard rescue, was nestled in his dog bed at the foot of the crib and when (Y/N) quietly entered, his head snapped up at attention but he immediately relaxed when she scratched behind his ears and the thick fur of his neck. Once their protective family dog was placated with scratches, she leaned over the crib and took a moment to observe her peaceful daughter; as energetic as the half super-soldier was throughout the day, she absolutely loved to sleep and hardly ever complained when they put her down for her two daily naps. Greg and Mara warned her that her daughter’s mild-mannered attitude could always fade away once she entered her ‘Terrible Two’s,’ but (Y/N) had a gut-feeling that Carina’s early adventures through space and all the battles against un-dead Asgardians and Thanos’ bloodthirsty army that she’d been present for gave her a resilience that most grown adults would never come to possess.

“Sweet dreams, my little lemon drop,” (Y/N) murmured, her fingers gently brushing her (Y/H/C) locks out of her face before she leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss onto her forehead. “I love you.”

After tucking the blanket around her daughter’s sleeping form, (Y/N) gave her one last smile and turned away from her crib, unsurprised to see Steve leaning against the nursery’s door frame with a content smile playing on his lips. “Sam and Buck already turned in for the night, so I thought I’d check in and see how my three lovely ladies were doing.”

“Two, sweetheart; you know as well as I do that we haven’t found out the sex of the baby yet.” She quietly closed the nursery door and looked at her husband with playful suspicion as they strolled hand-in-hand into their bedroom. “Unless you called up Dr. Prince behind my back.”

“Nope, just some good old-fashioned fatherly intuition.” Steve chuckled, bending down to press a kiss onto her small bump before they went about getting ready for bed, with him changing into his pajamas while she removed her makeup and applied her nighttime skincare in their room’s adjoining bathroom. “The guys mentioned that Barton and his kids were there, too.”

(Y/N)’s fingers momentarily stopped massaging moisturizer into the skin of her face as she recalled the grief etched into the archer’s face when Natasha’s character first twirled onto the stage. “Yeah, they were kicking off their Barton Family Christmas with a little trip to the city to see the show. They left about halfway through; Clint texted me later saying that it was because the kids were a little restless and they wanted to go out for Chinese food before it got too late, but…but I think it had something to do with Nat.”

Steve sighed but remained silent; when (Y/N) finished her nighttime routine and walked back into the bedroom, he was already sitting on his side of the bed with a downcast expression on his face. “He still blames himself for what happened on Vormir.”

“I think so, but I also think he knows that nothing he could’ve done would’ve stopped Nat from making that call…” With a sad sort of smile, she slipped out of her robe and climbed into bed beside her husband, adjusting the comforter over their laps and meeting his saddened azure eyes. “Most of all, I think he just misses her.” And I know exactly how he feels, she thought to herself as her throat burned and she tried her hardest not to imagine the faces of those she still grieved over.

Not a day went by when (Y/N) didn’t think about all the friends they’d lost over the past several years: Tony, Natasha, Vision, Loki and most recently, T’Challa; just as suddenly as they’d lost their four friends and teammates in the battle against Thanos, the King of Wakanda had passed away after a private battle with illness over two months ago. It seemed that with each blessing that appeared in their life, there was an equally devastating blow waiting just around the corner for them and as each one was dealt, (Y/N) started to truly comprehend the all-consuming grief that had followed Clint like a shadow since Thanos’ Snap in 2018.

Being with Steve and Carina and knowing that there was a new baby on the way certainly helped, as did sharing memories of those they’d lost with her husband and their two best friends and focusing her attention on her upcoming book tour. Steve, understanding all too well the emotions that were brewing within her, brought a hand up to cradle her cheek and drew his thumb across her cheekbone as his eyes softened with empathy. “When Cari dumped her entire bowl of spaghetti onto her head the other night and we had to give her an emergency bath, one of the first things that went through my mind was that Nat would get a kick out of hearing that story. It took me a second to remember that she…” Steve’s voice cracked and he swallowed thickly before continuing. “I’ve fought gods and monsters, I’ve traveled through space and time and I’ve lived long enough to believe that in this universe, anything is possible. She knows, sunshine…they all do.”

With tears in her eyes, (Y/N) let out a watery laugh and accepted the tissue that he offered her. “You sure you’re not the New York Times best-selling author in this family?”

“Nah, it’s just easier to land an emotional speech when your wife’s hormones are constantly being thrown for a loop by a four month old fetus,” Steve replied with a lopsided grin while she shook her head in playful exasperation and dabbed at her tear-filled eyes. “We should probably get some sleep; Sam and Buck have an early flight to New Orleans tomorrow, and we’ve still gotta take Cari to the mall for her picture with Santa.”

(Y/N), recalling her best friend Greg and his wife Mara’s many horror stories of taking their little Abbie to see Santa, bit her lip and replied, “Our daughter spent the first month of her life surrounded by Sakaarians, un-dead Asgardians and Chitauri soldiers, so I’m sure that a picture with a complete stranger dressed as Santa Claus’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Of course…” The longer her husband thought it over, though, the more hesitant he appeared. “But maybe we should pack her stuffed wolf just in case-?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Ever the true gentleman, Steve discarded her tissue for her and switched off their bedside lamp before burrowing under the bedcovers beside her, leaning over to brush his lips against her brow while she slipped her arm over his torso. “I also have to text Scott; when we were finishing up my interview for his book last week, he made me promise to give him a review of the musical. I think he wants to take Hope and Cassie when the touring company comes to San Francisco in the spring.”

Steve chuckled and carefully wound his arm around her to hold her closer. “He’ll be happy to know that they decided to add him to the Battle of New York. Speaking as one of the six people who was there, though, I’m not too sure what the presence of Ant-Man’s meant to add to one of Earth’s first alien invasions.”

“That’s the beauty of historical fiction: you can play fast and loose with dates, times and events for the sake of dramatic purposes while still portraying a person’s real-life story. In this case, adding one of the most popular Avengers to one of the most famous Avengers battles doesn’t change the fact that you – the main character – really were there.” (Y/N)’s eyes drifted closed and she could feel her body relaxing against Steve’s as sleep began to take hold. “With that being said, I just know he’s never ever gonna stop talking about it…”

Their tired laughs were suddenly interrupted by a sharp rap on their closed bedroom door and before either of them could say anything, the door opened and the light flickered on to reveal Sam and Bucky entering their room with matching frowns on their faces. “Sorry for barging in, guys, but you’re gonna wanna see this.” While Sam crossed over to retrieve the television remote from (Y/N)’s nightstand, she and Steve exchanged a look of confusion as they sat up and Bucky sat himself down on the edge of their bed as Sam switched their television on to NY1.

“…following a breaking news story, a high society gala rocked by an explosion when it went off at Park Avenue and 68th Street tonight. The cause of the explosion is still under investigation, but witnesses captured cell phone footage of a masked assailant fleeing the scene.” The news anchor’s face was replaced with an unsteady video of a bustling 68th Street; a masked figure dressed from head to toe in black vaulted over a speeding car and scooped a matted Golden Retriever up into their arms, both sliding out of the busy traffic just in the nick of time. The amateur footage paused on a close-up of the masked figure, and (Y/N)’s heart leapt into her throat when she recognized the imposing black and gold leather suit. “Authorities believe the assailant could be-”

“The Ronin,” (Y/N) breathed, and the implications of the infamous suit’s reappearance were not lost on her or the other three men in the room.

“-Who once terrorized organized crime here in New York and around the world for five brutal years. This is the first potential sighting of the Ronin in years, and his identity continues to remain a mystery to this day. We will continue to follow this breaking news story and report on any developments as they come in-”

Sam muted the television and turned to face them with a troubled expression written across his face. “That sure as hell wasn’t Barton in that video.”

“Which means one of two possibilities: either somebody with a sick sense of humor’s running around New York in a handmade Ronin suit and playing out their little fantasy of being a vigilante…” The fingers of Bucky’s vibranium hand traced along the raised lettering of his old dog tags as his brows furrowed, his earlier pleasant mood long gone and replaced with a dark trepidation. “Or someone found the real suit in the wreckage of the Avengers Facility.”

His features drawn with a solemnity reminiscent of his days as Captain America, Steve carded his hand through his rumpled blonde hair and stared at the muted footage of the imposter. “Either way, Barton and his kids are in danger; if they manage to find out the Ronin’s true identity, then every single member of the city’s criminal underworld is gonna go after him for revenge.”

(Y/N) let out a weary sigh and reached for her cell phone that was charging on her nightstand. “So much for that Barton Family Christmas…”

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

A/N: And there you have it! How do you think the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family will fit into this show? What're the surprises that are gonna pop up? I guess you'll have to tune in for the rest of the chapters to find out! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

Hawkeye (Part II)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345@crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovyqueer @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

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smutty-books · 1 year

Text

Hoodie Guy

Chapter 5

Eminem x reader

Getting to know you, coffee shop, soft marshall matters, reader’s sons

------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Angie teased you about Marshall and tried to get info out of you but you remained closed lip about what you talked about. You headed home in time to meet your sons’ buses and started them on their homework while starting dinner. Your 16 year old was determined to antagonize his brother and Nick played into it. You were glad for the distraction from your thoughts about meeting Marshall later. Soon enough you had your 12-year-old put to bed and Andrew was studying for an upcoming test. You looked at the time and realized you needed to get ready. You quickly went to your room, slipped into some straight-legged jeans, some white air force 1’s and a V-neck long-sleeved shirt. You let your hair down and fluffed it,and touched up your makeup. You spritzed some musk on your pulse points, the crown of your head, and behind your knees. You grabbed your debit card, some cash, and your phone. You let Andrew know you were going out with a friend. Andrew rolled his eyes when you repeated the exact instructions to him that you told him every night.

“ I know, mom, you tell me the same thing everytime you go out.” You kissed him on the too of the head and told him bye and what time you’d be back. You headed out, locking the door behind you. You drove to the coffee shop near the gym and parked. You took a few deep breaths and reminded yourself this was just Marshall and you were having coffee and talking, that's all. It didn't help that you had not dated much since your divorce and the times you had ended badly. You weren't one for casual hookups, and most guys wanted sex. That's what you worried about with Marshall, and, if you did date, what his expectations were cause you knew he was experienced with women. Way more experienced. You and your ex-husband had a good sex life and had done some experimenting, but you knew Marshall had been pretty wild in his younger days. You didn't know about it now, but if he was his team must be keeping it pretty hush-hush, as Marshall was very private.

You shook those thoughts off and reminded yourself that you were just talking and getting to know each other. Usually, things didn't progress past that. Most guys you were into were interested initially but then friend-zoned you, which is kind of what you were expecting to happen with Marshall. You would be cool with that. Marshall as a friend was better than no Marshall at all.

You again chided yourself for getting ahead of yourself. You checked again to make sure you had your debit card and your cash. You stepped out of your little car, ensured she was locked and made your way to the door. You glanced inside and noticed Marshall wasn't there yet. You look at your watch and see you are early, so you debate whether or not to wait outside or to go inside.

The smell of fresh coffee as a patron came out of the shop made up your mind for you. Coffee fiend that you were You followed the scent of the beloved liquid. You approached the counter and greeted the cashier. You scanned the menu but couldn’t decide. Ypu asked the cashier for a recommendation. The barista happened to hear your question and came over and asked you what you liked. You told her you liked dark roasts like Cafe Bustelo, a Cuban espresso, but you also like your cafe mochas and peppermint mochas as well as chai tea lattes. She offered her suggestion which sounded heavenly to you so you requested that and thanked her for her help and input. She smiled at you and began preparing your coffee in a mug. You paid the cashier for your drink and put a 5 dollar tip in the tip jar. You made small talk with the barista as you watched her prepare your drink. After a lovely conversation, she handed you your coffee creation in a big mug. You were delighted by the foam decoration on the top and told the barista so. She smiled appreciatively and blushed a little. Thanking her again, you turned around to find a table and found Marshall watching you. His face was expressionless but his gaze was warm and affectionate after watching your interactions with the staff at the shop. You blushed a little and ducked your head at his scrutiny . He swallowed down a smile and moved to join you.

“ I see you made yourself at home.. Ypu weren’t waiting long, were ya’?” He greeted you with as he came to your side. You smiled at him as you both walked to a both toward the back. You let him guide where you sat. You automatically took the seat that your back faced the shop, he looked a little surprised but nodded in thanks and took the seat facing the shop. He watched you take a sip of your drink and then swallowed another smile as you closed your eyes and sighed in contentment, dropping your head back. You smiled sheepishly as you brought your head back up and found his blue gaze still resting on ypu, cataloging your expressions, a slight tilt to his lips.

“ What can I say? Coffee and I could never be strangers. A patron came out as I was waiting outside for you, and I couldn’t resist coming in and getting a cup. I hope you don’t mind?” your explanation started strong but trailed off as you waited for his response.

“ Yes, I minded. I fully ‘spected you to wait outside for me. I’m Eminem, I expect chicks to wait for me.” He said, wholly deadpan and seriously, sitting toward you and looking you straight in the eye. Your eyes widened a fraction as you looked in his serious blue eyes and scanned his face. You thought he was playing but his face was so serious. Your mind flashed to all the interviews you saw with him and his complete deadpan delivery and his dry sense of humor. You decided to play with it a little. You made sure an apology showed in your eyes just in case.

“ Oh, so sorry, my mistake. Where ever are my manners. Please for give the lapse in etiquette, Mr. Mathers. It won’t happen again.” Ypu intoned, dryly, your face in an exaggerated forgive me expression, complete with puppy dog eyes. Marshall broke at that. His blue eyes twinkled back at you and he allowed a smile and a chuckle.

“ Well, since it’s your first time, I’ll let it slide. Don’t let it happen again.” He mock warned. You tried to appear chastened though in actuality you were relieved he was being facetious. You murmured your thanks and picked up your mug and took another sip. Marshall excused himself to get his own drink. You turned around to watch him move across the shop, admiring his easy stride and his outfit. You admired his black Kangol cap, his black zip up hoodie and his sagged sweatpants and his Nike’s. You watched him interact with the cashier and watched him drop a 10 dollar tip in the jar. You continued to watch as he accepted his cup and as he turned around and moved back toward you. You turned around back toward the table not wanting to be caught staring like a creeper. You watched as he settled himself in and took a sip of his drink.

“Have you been here before?” Ypu asked him curiously, taking another sip from your mug.

“ Not this shop, no, I used to frequent the shop it was before. It was a little mom and pop greasy spoon. Made the best eggs and hash browns. They had to sell though, the owner got sick and they couldn’t keep up the business. This place hadn’t been open maybe 6 months. First time I’ve been in here.” He looked around the shop assessing.

“ Yeah, we have a place like that back in my hometown. It was called The City Grill. Only open till like 2 and made the best eggs and hash browns. It’s still there though. Little mom and pop hole in the wall place.” You shared, smiling slightly at the fond memories.

“ So you ain’t from Detroit. I didn’t think you was. Your accent is different. Where’s home?” He asked curiously. You told him where you were from and about your little hometown.

“ What brought you to Detroit? That’s a ways from home?”

“ I took a travel assignment here one summer. I kept coming back here each summer cause I love the hospital and the staff I work with so much. Plus I fell in love with Detroit. So I decided to move me and my boys here permanently.”

From there the conversation continued. Marshall was guarded about quite a bit but he answered more than you thought he would. You were also guarded about some of your history but tried to answer as openly as you could. He asked more questions about your kids and you bragged on them like the proud mama you were. You asked about his kids as that was never an area you delved into or investigated as those were his kids. You could see how proud he was of all three of his kids. You commiserated over your worry about your teenagers and how things had changed since you both were that age.

You were just chuckling at an anecdote he was telling about Stevie when ypu heard “ Mom, mom, mom, mummy, mama.” Marshall looked at you confused, realization dawned as you took your phone out with a chuckle. Murmuring an “ excuse me” you turned away slightly to focus on your conversation with your son. Marshall pulled his phone out so as not to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“ Hey, sweetheart, is everything okay? Is Nick okay?” You asked, concerned mom tone coming out. You heard an exasperated sigh from the end of the line.

“ He’s fine, mom, still sleeping. Can Jayden come over after school to hang out and listen to music? There's a new X album of unreleased songs dropping at midnight.” you thought about it. “ Has he checked with his parents that its okay?” “ Yes, mom, they said it fine.” “Is he staying for dinner? “ “ If that's okay, yeah.” “ Yeah, that's fine.” “ Bet! Thanks mom, love you, bye.” “ Love you, too, son, be home soon.”

Marshall looked up and put his phone away as you ended your call. He smiled to himself as he caught your concerned mom tone and hearing your tone when talking to your son, and the “ I love you too.”

“ Your boys okay?” He asked politely, even though he knew the answer.

“ Yeah. That was Andrew, asking to have a friend over tommorow to listen to a new album that’s dropping at midnight.” You explained, pocketing your phone.

“ Oh? What album?” Marshall asked curiously, thinking if he knew any albums on the horizon off hand.

“ Xxxtentation? It’s some of the unreleased music he did before he died.” you explained. Marshall nodded “ Your son into rap?” “ Predominantly, yeah, he started with you and then went from there. His favorites are X, Juice World, and NF, but he listens to so many artists.” you chuckled.” He likes to play them for me when Nick’s not around and get my opinion on what he is listening to.” you shared, chuckling, shaking your head, thinking about some of the screamers he listens to. Marshall chuckled as well. “ Sone of it though he just wants to hear me say” Andrew!!!!” others he says “ Mom this beat is fire, you gotta listen to it!” “ Mom, listen to these lyrics!” “ Mom, listen to this flow switch, listen to the rhyme scheme.” You shrugged. “ I'm glad he wants to share what he's listening to with me, though, keeps the lines of communication open.” Marshall nods thoughtfully, listening to you talk. You could see the wheels turning in his amazing mind.

“ You divorced, right?” you nodded, waiting for him to continue. He seemed to think like he was measuring his words. “Where their dad at? He in the picture? They get to see him?” You chuckled but it didn't have an humor in it. Marshall cocked his head and waited for you to continue. You thought about what to tell him.

“ Their dad lives in Arizona, before that Virginia, and before that Leavenworth. He was active duty while at Leavenworth, then retired. Did his 20 and got out. When he retired they moved to Virginia where he got a job as a DOD contractor. “ you told Marshall quietly. “ They see him a couple times a year. Andrew talks to him on FaceTime about once a month. Nick doesn’t know his dad or his new family that well.” As you talked , you kept your voice even and calm even though it still pissed you off. You looked at Marshall and saw the upset on his face. He swallowed a few times and you could see he was confused and upset. After a few tries he was able to speak.

“New family?” He asked, his voice controlled.

“ Yeah, he started seeing someone when we were separated, made it serious after we divorced and the when he came back to the states he moved her to Leavenworth with him and they got married. She had a son from a previous marriage. They had a daughter together a few years later even though she wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant. Of course this was after they told Andrew they didn’t have room for him when he asked to live with his dad.” You told him, your voice shaking a bit and you took a deep breath.

“ Motherfucker. So he chose a bitch and her kid over his own kids???!!!” He looked incensed at the idea. You bit your lip, and looked down, and nodded. You heard him muttering under his breath “ I see why you called him a fucktard. I just don’t get how a father can not be involved in his kid’s lives or choose one family over the other. That’s fucked up.” He told you after a few minutes, his voice calmer and quieter. You looked up and saw his gazing at you. You still saw anger on his face directed at your ex but in his eyes you saw sympathy. You wanted to get away from the unpleasant topic so quickly changed the subject. Marshall sent you a look that let you know he knew what you were doing but was going to follow your lead, for now, which you were grateful for.

“ So, you box, like for real. How long have you been boxing? How did you get started?” you asked him, intrigued. He smiled a little bit, chuckled, and answered your questions. You laughed as he finished with the story about being beaten by the 14-year-old. He shook his head and watched you laugh.

“Have you ever taught anyone to box?” you asked, curious. He shook his head. “ I tried to teach my girls, but none of ‘em got interested.” he imparted.

“ Yeah, my son used to go to a boxing club back home but stopped, never really said why. I always thought it would neat to learn, just never had the time.”

“ I could teach you, I mean, I can try to teach you, if you want.” he offered.

“ I don't know if I want to subject you to that. I'm incredibly uncoordinated and boxing looks like it requires coordination,” you said self-deprecating. “ Thank you for the offer, though, can I rain check and take you up on it later?” you asked tentatively, raiding you eyes to meet his blue gaze head on. The compassion and understanding in his blue eyes in his blues took your breath away. You realized that you could easily fall for this human being and you needed to protect your heart if you didn't want it broken. He considered you for a few minutes.

“ Raincheck it is. Imma hold you to that. So I know you got good taste in music cause you listen to me.” he said, smirking at you, you chuckled. “ What other artists you listen to?”

“ Oh, buddy, you just opened a flood gate with that question.” you warned him.

“ Hit me. I wanna know. Is it all rap or do you like other types of music?” he asked, curiously, hid gaze intent on you. You weren't used to such attention and part of you blossomed but the other part was waiting for him to put the breaks on and friend-zone you. You took a deep breath and thought for a moment.

“ Imma be honest, I grew up listening to 8 tracks and records on my parents Hi- fi. I grew up with classic country, 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s music. My parents got me a record player for one of my birthdays, one of those that had a tape deck as well? So I grew up listening to all their old records. Then I was a band geek, and a theatre geek. The band guys were into heavy metal band and garage bands so I have an appreciation for that. And I loved early rap, like the 80’s and early ’90s. Loved the Beasty Boys, MC Hammer, and Regulator by Nate Dogg and Warren G. And of course DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince. Salt n’ Peppa, Run DMC. Then when I got married my then husband listened to a lot of 80’s hair and and classic rock as well as classical music and some show tunes. I got away from rap because it was too violent and too vulgar and misogynistic. It wasn't fun like the early rap I listened to. Plus my then husband wasn't a fan so that influenced my listening tastes. It wasn't till after I was divorced and my middle son started bumping rap and playing it for me that I got interested in the genre again. Then I became obsessed and devoured everything I could about hip hop and the culture. As you said in “ Kamikaze,” it made me feel strong at one of the weakest points in my life, and the more I listened, the more strength I drew from you and other hip-hop artists the more I sought to understand the culture and why rappers rapped about what they did. That's the beauty of music, it is universal and it’s a way of connecting to others and telling your struggles that others can relate to and maybe gain strength from the fact that someone else is struggling and you aren't alone in this world. That there are others that do understand and its a comfort and a solace.”you told him, gauging his expression. He listened intently and nodded at points, made agreeing noises at others and didn't look surprised by you statements about rap and why you got away from it. He looked a little sad at that but perked up when you talked about your renewed interest in it and watched, intrigued by the passionate way you spoke about this art form and culture that he was in love with so much and that had given so much to him and his family. That he strove to give back to and pay homage to whenever and however he possibly could. He found himself wanting to know more which was an oddity. He was saddened when he saw you look at your watch and start and knew you had to go.

“ You gotta go?” he asked quietly, looking down at his drink

“Yeah, I told my son I’d be back around 10:30,” you told him regretfully, finishing your now very cold cup of coffee. You moved to stand up and return your cup. He stood up as well and grabbed his drink and took yours from you despite your protest. He quickly silenced your protest with a warning look. You smiled at him in thanks. You thanked the cashier and barista and made your way to the door. He helped the for open for you, which you thanked him for. You talked and joked with each others. He walked you to your car. He watched as you unlocked your car and as you quickly checked the back seat before he opened the door and held it.

“ I’d like to see you again. “ he told you seriously. You looked him, confused. He clarified. “ I mean, I know we are going to see each other at the gym, but I'd like to, you know, kinda like take you out.” he got out. You looked up at him and smiled warmly.

“ Yeah?” You asked in wonder. He smiled at that, more certain at your humbleness that he wanted to get to know you more.

“ Yeah, I do.” he breathed, looking at you.

“ I'd like that, too. I kind of like you, Marshall Mathers.” you said sweetly, bashfully, blush on your cheeks as you admitted that to him. He leaned down and brushed a kiss to your cheek and whispered in your ear, his voice husky: “ Yeah? Wanna know sumtin'? I kind of like you too, y/n.” he felt you shiver as his lips brushed across your skin, and he bit back a smile, liking that he could affect you like that. He pulled back and gave you a small smile. You smiled shyly up at him, hardly believing someone like him was interested in someone like you.

“ Good night, Marshall. See you tomorrow night? “ you asked, starting your car, smiling as her engine came to life. He murmured his assent and closed your door. You rolled your window down

“ Sleep tight, sweet dreams, Marshall Bruce Mathers.” you told him, smiling at him.

“ You, too, y/n, you too. Text me when you get home.” he reminded you. You nodded and waved at him as you rolled up your window. He smiled as he caught Tupac’s “ I Ain't Mad Atcha” coming from your speakers before the window closed. He watched as you pulled away then made his way to his vehicle and made his way home.

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #getting to know you fluff #tooth rotting sweetness #soft marshall mathers #he needs to stop looking so damn fine #fucktard ex-husband #coffee!!!#marshall mathers #eminem imagine #eminem fluff

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braindead94 · 4 months

Text

The sound of rolling dice, is music to my ears

Reader is a small Elf whos task is to delivering important male to Jack Skeleton when she accidently tripped and lost a few letters.

But when she tries to get it back from the Boogeyman that the entire Halloween town warned her about, he offers her a game to win them back.....

(Merry Christmas yall!!! TW:Kidnapping, Gambling, blow job (female receiving), PIV, bugs)

The crisp air of snow and peppermint filled the air along with the sounds of merriment and laughter from the elfs. You smiled brightly as you stroll along the path with a pirk in your step, waving and greeting other elfs that crossed your path in Christmas Town. The bell on your longstock hat jingled as you spun around in the town square, twirling your green skirt with white fluff on the ends while catching snowflakes on your tongue before dashing off to the end of the street and towards the beautiful forest.

Santa had a new idea for Christmas that involved working with Halloween Town favorite resident, Jack Skeleton. Of course, many people here didn’t take up the idea of mingling with the likes of him because… well, their beloved skeleton kidnaps your town's leader for Saint Nick sakes!

But you took it with a cheerful smile and a happy beat in your heart. You were very curious about the folks in that scary town and for the most part, half of the rumors the elfs spread were ALMOST right.

The monsters and ghouls do eat out of the skulls of animals. They do dress in all black and have slime oozing out of them. Half of them are even dead and walking. But what surprised you the most was that they are all so inviting and open to you.

They were curious about you and your town as much as you are of theirs. The idea was that Santa would take the good children letters and the naughty letters go to Jack with little backstory of their bad behavior. He thought it would be a good idea that the Pumpkin King take up the title of Krampus (minus the whipping and kidnapping). All he had to do was scare them a little, just a little and leave coal.

The tall, bony man was thrilled to be part of this fun idea and always greeted you with a wide grin and a spark in his empty eye sockets. Sooner than later, he and many of the residents became good friends of yours.

Well, except from those oddball kids, Lock, Stock, and Barrel. You paid them no mind when they made fun of your pointy ears and how short you are (you held it in the fact that THEY are short as well). The odd thing was that there would be few bugs around them whenever they appeared, and only to disappear after they left. Or how the insects in Halloween town seemed to follow you about.

You just turn the other cheek and move on when they come onto your path.

Perhaps you could invite some of your friends over to Halloween town one day. Then your whole friends could become one big group so you’ll never have to separate anything anymore.

You hummed a jolly tune as you made your way through the pine trees that slowly dwindled down from thick with wide trunks and brimming with pine leaves to thin and spices. Hiking up your heavy backpack full of tightly packed letters and a box of your homemade Christmas cookies (both chocolate chips and swirl cookies), your wide eyes scanned for your destination.

Seeing the familiar sight of the Holiday doors, you nearly ran over to the pumpkin door and knocked on it, one two three, one two three, one two three four five.

You didn’t have to, but you felt it was only polite to do so before opening it and eagerly jumping in with the brightly colored leaves of red, orange and brown swirled around you and you disappeared into the darkness.

With practice and with muscle memory, you curled up into a ball just when you felt something hard and flat hit your feet, rolling forward and plopping open in the dark and scary forest.

You just got up, dust yourself off and stroll into the well beaten path to the spooky town. The moon was full and bright, almost hurting your eyes as it lighted up your path. The trees around you were tall, lanky and dead with the smell of dried sap and fresh dirt.

You happily stepped on crisp leaves with your curled up shoes, the bell on your long hat jingled, almost skipping on when you saw you were getting close to the three thick or treaters tree house.

Your lips almost made a scowl but pressed on with lead feet, hoping they weren't home to taunt you or throw rotten apples at you again. You were almost passing by the hill when something hooked on the curl of your green shoe and made you trip.

“Wahhhh!!” You crashed hard, your chin hitting the dirt hard. You cringed in pain as you slowly sat up on your knees, only to see your backpack opened and spilling letters out. “Ohhhh no no no no no!” You muttered as you began to snatch them up and shove it in the pack, never bothering to straighten them out or even if they were getting crinkled with the carelessness of stuffing. Thankfully your cookies were still inside.

You turned to your left to gather more, then to your right to get the rest. 8 letters, 5 letters, only 4 more letters to go-

A gust of wind brushed through your exposed hair and picked up the 4 remaining letters in the air. You could only look in disbelief when it landed only a few feet away from the dreaded treehouse. “How on…” You didn’t bother finishing it when you clamped the pack shut and rushed out to grab the remaining envelopes.

But they moved out of your grasp, very comically like an old silent film actor getting his hat. It was as if they were moving on their own. You huffed in annoyance as you unknowingly got closer and closer to the tree, right at the base where the trunk meets the ground… except you stopped at the unexpected moat that dipped down into darkness.

You halted your progress, almost falling off the ledge as you saw the letters getting carried in the air and through an open window by…

Your eyes widened as you saw many beetles clinging onto the white envelopes, their wings buzzing hard as they slipped into the crack of the window just enough for them.

Blinked at how ridiculous this looked, you sat back on your feet and stared at the trunk. Looking through the glass, you saw nothing but darkness.

Welp, this is going to be a problem.

You lean your body back to look up at the treehouse, debating whether or not it’s worth bothering the little deviants and ask to look into their basement, or living room, or whatever it is. But the more you think about it, the more scenarios pop up with unfavorable endings.

You think if Jack would be of assistance but then again, he is a busy skeleton and it would only make things worse when they get caught, they would probably heckle you even more later if that were to be.

You nibble on your thumbnail, your mind racing until a new idea pops up. ‘What if I just…. Sneak in?’ You thought. “No, no, breaking in is bad! And besides, I’m sure those letters are not that important.” You reasoned. ‘But Santa does it once a year for Christmas, for a good reason. And he explained that these children are growing up worse and worse each year with no consequences, they would have to learn to behave for the betterment of their adult years and to others.’ Says the reason in your mind.

A small sigh left your lips as you looked at the dark window, then to the darkness of the moat. Luckily there was a rope that hung from the branches above, so after you made sure to secure your pack, you clamped onto the rope and climbed down to the glass. Luckily it wasn’t locked and you gently let yourself in.

‘Ohhhhh, this still feels wrong. ’ You think as you waved your arm in the dark to feel the walls. Your hands grasp something long and hard. Your brows frowned at the feel of it, how smooth and wrong it felt. Almost familiar though.

You hung onto it and found more things similar to it on the wall and slowly climbed down until your feet touched the floor. Now with the safety of the ground, you looked around to see… still nothing but you can hear a lot of scuffling. Like lots of tiny little feets scampering about all around you.

Quickly thinking, you reach for your bell and with a small blow, you ring it with a golden chime echoing the room and it begins to glow.

The light wasn’t enough to fill in the whole thing, so you saw it was a big room. Wider and bigger than Mr. and Mrs. Claus' own house. You turned around to the wall you climbed down-

You scream when you see skeletons hanging by their wrists and ankles stretching them out without breaking them apart on chains. Their bones covered in disgusting paint as their skulls looked down at you with their jaw open and their sockets looking at you dully.

You tumbled backward before trying to calm yourself down. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay.. It’s just skeletons, you’ve seen them around Halloween Town, you are friends with one. Everything is fi-’

You let out another scream when you look down to see bugs of many sizes and shapes skittering all over the floor, some on your green shoes and almost crawling up your red and white stockings.

Immediately, you stomp and kick at them when you hear a deep chuckle behind you. With a snap, the room began to glow bright and the bigs seemed to be repealed by the light. Within seconds, they disappeared into the cracks of the walls before you.

“Don’t pay them too much, little lady. They are only takin’ a good look at cha.” Said a deep, southern voice behind you.

You turned to see the whole room and blinked in surprise. It was a large game room with a wheel with sharp edges and another skeleton strapped in the middle. The floor you were standing on was a circle with red and black boxes with golden numbers and skull painted on the ends and the middle had cracks that indicated that it was holding something inside.

Further ahead of you was a large throne that was built with big dice and coins with insects crawling in and out of it, and on that throne was a very, very large man who looked at you with keen interest.

His face was plump with a wicked smile on his cupid lips, his teeth all crooked and jagged like broken bottles while the ends of his mouth had stitches that extended his smile. He had a thick mustache with a soul patch on his chin with stitches lining underneath that chin all the to the sides of his face until it hid under his ears. He wore black glasses that glinted in the light.

His black hair groomed back, and his pale skin nearly popped out of his dark, burgundy suit that looked like it was stitched in thick string with a black shirt with a striped, orange and black tie. You looked at the big, stitched up man with a feeling of meeting a hungry lion when you saw him holding the 4 letters in his hands.

“Oh! You have my letters! I’m so sorry for breaking into your home, sir.” You called out as you started to walk towards him, the feeling did not go away as you came closer. “I tripped and lost some of my letters, and for some reason some bugs carried them here. If I may have them back please, I’ll leave your…” You looked around the whole bizarre place for a proper word. “Lovey home.” You finished, now standing in front of him, but still a good few meters away.

Even from this distinct, you could still see how tall he really was, and say how his suit looked a bit tight on him, especially around his belly. He raised a thick eyebrow as he looked over the envelopes in his hands, fanning himself while thinking before giving you a smirk. “No.”

You blinked with your mouth agape.

“I’m-I’m sorry-” “Listen here, darlin’,” He began, his southern drawl laying his voice thick as he crossed his leg over the other, his face never losing that hidden sense of humor. “I know you and your boss loves ta break in and all. But here in Halloween Town, we don’t do that. Especially if ya don’t know what type of surprises linger in our homes. ‘Sides, you don’t have anything to trade for these.” He added as he sat back with a lazy grunt.

Your mind becomes jumbled with excuses for Santa and for your rude intruding as you try to apologize to him when you think of the cookies. “Well, if it’s a trade you want sir, I have some treats with me that you could have.” His eyes, so very human for a resident living in a monster filled world, light up at the word treat. “Well, present them here, cutie.”

Your cheeks turned red as he called you that, nearly fumbling the box out of your backpack. Placing the bag down, you walked up to the man in the chair. It feels odd, so vastly different from Santa Claus, surrounded by kind people and how many children line up to ask him for presents, how his face glowed with warmth and giving. Always have a smile that makes you light up.

This man is the opposite in this lonely game place, letting out a feeling of cold and selfishness, his dark eyes pierced through your soul and even looked at your box with a wide smile as he placed the envelopes on his wide lap as you came up to up. You noticed how your shoulders were just almost taller than his knees. ‘Goodness, he might be taller than Santa himself. ’ You think.

The man reached out and instead of taking the box off your hands, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer between his now open legs (you saw morse stitches on his hands, one ending on the palm of his hand and around his wrist and on the other around his ring finger). You felt your cheeks becoming warmer as his skin, which felt callused and coarse, still held onto you as he opened the box and let out a delighted ah.

“Well ain’t they just the most de-licious looking treats. Did ya make these yourself?” He asked as he just took one and munch on a chocolate chip cookie.

You cleared your throat and answered yes, waiting for him to let you go. But he didn’t, he ate another and another, all while still holding onto you.

“And look at these funny little men with buttons on them! And you get to eat them? You Christmas folks must be darker than I give ya credit for.” He smirked as he took a gingerbread man. You stood awkwardly as you waited for him to finish, mentally sighing and promising to bake more for Sally and the little dead boy with his bat friend.

Once the tall man in stitches finished all the surgery cookies, he finally let go of your arm and sat back with a consent smile on his face and a few crumbs on his patch. “Well shave my legs and call me Bessy, those are one of the best damn things I’ve ever tasted. What are they called?”

You stepped back with a wayward grin and answered him, then explained how you made them though it looked like he didn’t care about the making process of them as he just wiped away the crumbs with a raggedy rag from his jacket pocket.

“So…um, now that you’ve had your cookies, I’ll take the letters back now-” “Now hang on a minute, little sugar. I never did agree to give them to you if I ate any of your delights. You just walked on up and offered them to me like a present. And isn't that what you folks are all about, given shit away for free?”

You stood there flabbergasted, trying to bring up reason but thinking back, he never did verbally agree to give them to you. But the way he was implying should have been enough, right?

“Um…” Was all you could say as you fumble with the red box in your hand, trying to come up with something to get those papers back. “You're really dead set on getting them back, huh?” He chuckled, then a gleam of an idea flashing in his eyes and his smile grew, nearly popping the stitches on the sides.

“How about this, you play a game with me. If you win four times, you get your letters back and you get to leave. How does that sound?” You nodded eagerly before you paused. “Wait, what happens if I lose?”

He let out a laugh as he sat back on his throne. “Well that was quick! Most folks would just play my games before even askin’ that question! Well, little missy if you lose,” He leaned back down to you, his body towering over you. The gleam of his glasses shined before his dark pupils almost glowed green in the shadow. “You get to stay here with me.” He whispered.

You balked at the mere thought of just staying here in this-this empty room of games, stepping away from him. He smirked when you almost tumbled backward that caused you to drop the box. “That-that’s not a fair trade! They are only just papers-”

“Papers that you are so very anxious to get back, like a kid with fire ants in his pants. Are they really that important to risk your own life to break into an unknown territory and just stroll in without knocking the residents first?” The man exclaimed in his heavy southern drawl, collapsing his hands together. “If ya ask me, that just seems mighty rude to me. Almost naughty. And here I thought all pretty little elfs were supposed to be fucking nice.”

Your face nearly crumbled with shame as you fiddled with your hands. “I-I-I’m so sorry sir-I honestly was just-” that did it, you turned around to the window with tears nearly drawn out of your big eyes. “I’ll just leave you alone and never bother you again.”

“Now hold on there, who says you were a bother?” He asked. You halted as you turned back to him. His smirk still present on his face as he held up one paper. That is out of the envelope. “I am very curious about this,” He reads one of it, raising his glasses on his crooked nose. “Kid named Daniel. What’s so special about him, huh? Causing a ruckus with his family? Need someone to discipline him? Maybe I could pay him a visit and teach him a thing or two.” He drawled on as you made your way back to him with rushed steps.

Your bell jingled as you tried to reach out for the paper but he only sat back and held it higher with a laugh. “Give that back! That is meant for Jack Skeleton!”

With the mention of the skeleton name made him stop. The air became tense as you heard thousands of bugs scuttling in the walls as if they were retreating. “Jack Skeleton, eh? What, is that big old oaf of a red lobster asking him to deliver presents again? Or just scare them into being good? Well,”

He smiled wider, wider until the side stitches unravel and his mouth showed more jagged teeth. The glow of his dark eyes showed again as a shadow passed over his face. “Perhaps I could pay the tiny tikes a visit. Scare the living shit out of them myself into being good children.” He whispered, his voice deeper with more voices joining, making him more demonic.

Ice turned your blood cold as your stomach squeezed as he loomed over you. There was no way you could just leave now without those letters. If he knew more about those naughty kids, he could hurt them or worse!

“Let's play a game then!” You squeaked out. “If I win four times then I’ll leave you forever! You won't ever have to hear from me ever again!” His eyes blinked before his side stitches closed up again as leaned back, more calmer but with that same gleam in his eyes.

“A smart decision, little darlin.” He snapped his fingers and a spotlight turned on behind you, pointing to a table and two chairs on each side that popped up behind you.

‘How-when did that-’ The man got up, up and up, startling you to step back as he made his way over to it while stuffing the paper into it’s container. “Now then, what games do you know about, Miss Y/n?” You think as you walk behind him from a safe distance. “Well, I know Uno. That’s a-wait,” You paused, thinking how he was quick to anger when you mentioned Jack just once.

“Maybe not that game. How about Go Fish? I’m good at Go Fi-” “Sugar, I’m asking for a grown-up game, not some” He waved his hand as he sat in one chair. “Child's card game that’s meant to entertain a pathetic 5-year-old. Nah, I’m talking about a real man's game.”

You felt bristled when he insulted a child but kept it to yourself as you went to your chair and climbed up it, slightly pleased that had the right size to let you be seen from the other side of the table, but it did make it harder to climb up it. You made a hum as your mind raced to think of a new game. ‘Alright, so perhaps he might be interested in board games. Maybe he has Sorry?’

“How about Blackjack, do you know that one?” He asked, whipping out a pack of cards out of nowhere. You blinked as he began to shuffle them in a flashy, elegant way over the table with the green velvet feel, like a magician showing off his magic. Your eyes are drawn to how he flicked one card up into the air and caught the rest.

“Or maybe Poker? I’m always a sucker for Poker. If that aint’ your style,'' He rolled his wrist and out appeared two red dice with skulls on it rolled onto the table. “We can play some roulette. The choice is yours to pick, Y/n.”

You think hard, frowning at the table. “Um… I haven’t played any of those games. I’m sorry…” You said sheepishly. His smile widened, and not in a friendly way. “Well that’s alright sweetie, I’ll teach ya. Lets go with Poker then, always a good one to start off with.” You nodded, at least trusting the process of getting those letters back-

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” You added. “That you didn’t, my apologies. Around these parts, they call me the Boogeyman, but my real name is Oogie Boogie.” You felt a tingle of recognition from the name in your mind. The people in Halloween Town have mentioned him but never gotten into too much detail. But they did tell you to never trust the Boogie Man, not even with a little penny or your life.

Well, that isn’t a great start off but you had no choice. “Ok, Mr.Boogie. Let’s play Poker.”

So he spent a few minutes teaching you about the game, sprinkling some bits of it’s…. colorful history. It was kinda hard to understand how it works because of his accent but you slowly understood how the game operates, not that he slowed down for you to catch up when he started to deal with the cards out.

Mr.Boogie was even kind enough to play a few practice rounds before playing the game for real after you won some fake rounds (which he gave you begruttle praise for).

Then the game really began.

He placed down one envelope in the center of the table with the green velvet on the top. Then he dealt the cards out until you both got an even 5. Following the rules, you peeked at the first two cards.

They were two threes, one diamond and another a club.

That round was rather short but you managed to win that first round easily with the rest of the three being 6s, two spades and one club.

Oogie just smiled widely at your winning before dealing for another round while you eagerly get the first letter back.

The next round was a bit harder as you tried to keep your face neutral when you saw you got two aces. You looked at his face, really trying to study him as he looks at his own. He rubbed the soul patch on his chin, deep in thought before going in. You placed it down, then flipped up the rest of the cards when it showed that his cards were just as good as your aces.

It was three more aces.

You let out a cheer of glee as you picked up the second letter while you spun around on your chair, the golden bell at the end of your hat jingled along with your laughter. Oogie patiently waited until you sat back down with a bright smile on your face.

He had his own smile that didn’t look right.

“Why don’t we make this more interesting, sug.” he said. Still riding on that winning high, you nodded eagerly. “How ‘bout we throw in some strip poker fer a few rounds?”

That…. Threw you off that high ride. “Strip? As in… stripping wallpaper off?” You asked. The man in stitches let out a belly full laughter, tilting his head as he did so while you felt even more confused and peeved at his bizarre behavior.

After he calmed down enough, he stared at you with a glint inside of the dark pools in the middle of his eyes with a glowing but of green inside of them and said “No little doll. After you lose a hand, you have to take one article of clothing off of you until you're completely naked.”

Your face reddened hard while you dropped your cards on the table as if they caught on fire. “No, no way! Absolutely not! That is very inappropriate and really weird! Why would you want to add that in? Why would anybody play strip poker?!” You shrieked as you crossed your arms.

He just shrugged nonchalantly. “To enhance the experience! It gets folks on the Human side all riled up, make it interesting! Otherwise this whole game would be dull, and you are having a good time ain'tcha? You don’t want to ruin that with just two more rounds, right?”

Your cheeks felt warm but you did pounder on his words for a bit.

The game was starting to get good, and you felt like you had a winning streak going on….. Pulse you have layers of clothing on sooo….

You square up your shoulders, clearing your throat before agreeing with him with a soft okay.

Oogies face broke out in his grin and his eyes flashed green again.

The first round went quickly as you got new cards, but it ended up with you losing to him. ‘No worries. I have tons of layers.’ You think as you took off your thick red coat and placed it neatly on the back of your chair neatly.

The next round, you lost again, and you slipped your curl toe shoes off and let both of them fall onto the floor limply. The man in front of you huffed in amusement as you continued on with a determined look on your face.

You managed to win the next round with a royal flush, and you squealed in delight and stuck out your tongue at him. Oogie simply smirked at you as he undoes his necktie and plop it onto the table. The next round you won again and gosh! This Poker game is really something else! You let out a whoop when you won the next round.

“Ha! By the time I’m done with this game, I’ll be the Queen of Po-po-poker…” Your excited words trailed off when he sat back and slowly unbuttoned his jacket and instead of taking it off, he slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. Slowly, one…. By… one as if he was teasing you.

The stitches from under his chin led down his throat and continued on until he fully opened up his shirt, leaving his plump chest and big belly out for all to see.

You stare at the lines between his pecs and two more split on his belly like a peace sign. Oogie Boogie rested his hands on the table and waited for you to speak up. After a full minute had passed by, you leaned forward and looked him in the eyes through his glasses. “Did that hurt?” You asked with concern.

He looked surprised, as if no one had asked him that before he chuckled a bit, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to grab something. “Nah, sugar. It didn’t hurt me at all.” You nodded, not bothering the thought that he never took off his jacket for the strip poker and continued on.

Now, you were really taking your time after you lost your candy cane stockings and the only thing that is keeping you properly covered up is your green dress. Your hat is the last article of clothing is your hat, but the bell is your best chance of escaping out of here in case something goes wrong.

“Can we get back to the letters please, I would like to end this soon so I can leave you in peace.” Oogie smirked, his thick eyebrow raised in a teasing manner. “Why so anxious to leave little o’ me? Am I really that unbearable to be around with?”

You paled as you shook your head no. “I’m so sorry to give you that impression!” You lied, your ears lowering out of habit. “I just don’t want anyone to worry about meEEEE!” You shrieked and you felt something crawling up your bare leg. You shiver and try to shake it off but it held on as it climbed higher and higher-OH NO! It’s a black widow!!

You stood on your highchair as you try to think of a way to get it off without touching it when a large hand reached out with his palms up next to your waist where the creepy crawly stood. “Come along now darlin’. You’re givin our special guest a fright.” He drawls in his thick southern accent. The spider excitedly hopped on his hand and Oogie raised it up closer to your face before withdrawing it onto his seat.

Your heart was still pounding when you began to sit, then froze as you watched the big man bringing the Black Widow to his belly.

The seams on his belly came undone, then slowly his skin split open to reveal darkness with the sounds of lots of something small and slithering and skittering inside him. The spider crawled out of his hand, over his skin and joined in the rest of the sounds, it’s body seemingly mingling with the rest of the dark.

You watched on with disgust as the skin closed in on itself and the seams stitched itself back together and his belly became whole once more. Your skin felt cold as you just stared at his torso before looking up at him. He sat there leaned back with a smirk. “Enjoying the view, little lady? Well, if ya like, you could unwrap me yourself if you're curious about me.” He winked.

You shudder as you pick up your scattered cards and put your focus into the game.

Unfortunately, your mind was not in the same space as it was before and soon you’ve lost another round. He held out his hand for a letter and, with hesitation, you gave one back to him.

The next hour was spent alternating playing poker then strip poker when you felt you couldn’t handle losing a letter. He took off his jacket, leaving his shirt on and unbutton while you took off your fingerless gloves, necklace and after making an uneasy decision, took off your green dress rather than your hat.

If something were to happen, you’ll ring it for a quick emergency.

You could feel the man with the bugs eyes burning onto your bare skin as you shimmy out of it, your cheeks and the tip of your ears blushing hard as you folded it neatly and put it on your lap. Something told you that he might try to take your dress if you leave it unintended. Now you were just wearing a tank top that rested over your bra and stripped panties.

Of course, that decision didn’t go unnoticed.

“Now why take that dress rather than your hat. Granted, you look more adorable, tasty then a slut in the best whorehouse in the world, but I’m just wonderin.” Your face grew red as you stayed silent and picked up your cards again.

He let out a deep chuckle and looked at his cards. You looked into yours and nearly broke out in a grin. It was another royal flush. You nearly wiggled in your seat as you eyed up the very last, nearly crumbled letter that sits too close to Oogie Boogie. You are almost home free!

But then you started to notice the discarded pile and how high it is. You recounted the mount of times he redealt the cards after three rounds, that should have been enough to mix the cards up, right?

You then remember you’ve played an Ace of clubs in one round then the very next one, HE had an Ace of clubs in his winning deck.

“Wait a minute…” You placed your cards down as you leer at the tall man across from you. He glanced up, a knowing look placed in his eyes behind his glasses.

“Are you… cheating?” You asked with a hushed voice. Oogie Boogie just paused before his face broke out in a wide, wide grin. “Took ya long enough.” He said, nearly snickering as he dumped his cards on the table.

You slam your fist on the table, red bloomed on your face as you stood on your chair to scold closer at him. “That isn’t right!? Do you know how dishonest that is? How it ruins the game?! Now this isn’t even a real winning!!” You yelled, your voice nearly breaking from the lack of how much you’ve let your anger go.

“Well then I guess I’ll have those letters back then.” He pointed out, raising a hand with a smile. You blinked, then looked back at the envelopes and paled. Oh no…

“I…” You stutter out but your shoulders crumble downward. He’s right, you didn’t properly win them. So with a heavy hand, you gave it back to him, which he eagerly accepted. But his hand got a bit too close to yours, nearly grazing skin to cold skin.

“How about this, doll face,” Said Oogie with a mocking look of symphony as he collapsed his hands on the table. You waited as you sat down and crossed your arms to warm yourself up. ‘Fudge, I’ll need to get dressed quickly-’

“Let’s play a different game, no tricks, no cheating. Just an honest game of chance.” He said. You blinked at him again. “Y-y-you’re serious?” “As serious as a heart attack, sugar.” He quipped back.

You think about it, really think hard on it.

He’s been cheating, probably from the very beginning. Maybe he didn’t even teach you all the rules of the game and you completely fell for it like a cotton headed ninnymuger!

“Alright, but it has to be with a game I know.” You demanded. He shrugged and sat back with a small grunt. “So, what do ya reckon? Miss.Y/n?”

You ponder… and ponder… then a game up with a game that both Humans and Elfs play. If your kind and Humans know how to play it, then surely he might know. “Do you know the game Passage?”

He smiled wider as he took out his 6 pair of dice he showed you earlier and proceeded to do fancy tricks on his fingers. “I sure do, Y/n.”

You beamed, glad to have something going in your favor. “Good! Then if I win, I get the letters back, not one by one, all of them. And if you win-” “Then you get to stay here with me, little lady.” He smirked. A shiver slither up your spine as the cold settles in your blood. You swallow your fear as you nodded with a firm look on your face.

“Deal…. but why-” He cut you off when he cleared the table by swiping his arm across the table, totally disregarding the nice-looking cards and set the dice on the table. Oogie just smirked at your shocked face as he held out his hand with two dice with snake details on it. “Ladies first.”

You both play the first round with no issues so far. You gained 3 points, then 5, then Oogie get 7 points.

“Well well well, looks like you are losing pretty quickly, Y/n. If I were you, I’d start praying for a Christmas Miricale.” He taunted, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. You just huffed and started to roll with great vigor, anxiety riddled your mind when it dawned on you.

You’ve never told him your name.

Your body froze at the revelation. Your heartbeats almost stopped. Oogie Boogie looked confused, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the matter? Lost interest in getting these babies back?” He asked. You only stare back at him as you slowly gather up your courage and ask “How did you know my name?”

The second you asked, he grinned wolf like with jagged teeth. “Hehehehe….. You are way smarter than you give off, sugar.”

Your body jerked to get off the highchair, landing awkwardly as you stumbled to get away from the man in stitches getting up from his seat, your body hurting from the fall, no doubt you’ll be getting scabs from crawling back.

“How-how did you know my name?!” you demanded, shivering as your ears lowered down until your hand felt something slimy. You let out a shriek and stopped when you saw a whole menagerie of bugs crawling behind you as if to keep you from reaching to the wall, the only escape from HIM.

His footsteps were loud compared to Santas as he strolled leisurely to you, his black shirt still unbuttoned and his hands in his pockets. “Why, with my little friends, of course! I like to keep in touch with my ‘neighbors’ above, just to stay in the know-how. So imagine my surprise when I see cute little you strolling in with that little bell hat chatting with the Halloween folk, being all buddy buddy with them for the past few months. I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a long time now, and just the mere sight of you,” He let out a low whistle with a smirk, eyeing your body as a patron would at a butcher shop. “Just gets me all riled up.”

You suddenly remember the golden bell, your only chance to get out of here! Your hand shot out to grab it when something slithered around your hat and tugged back. With a yelp, you turn around to see a large snake in yellow and black stripes slinking backward to the rising crowd of bugs, beetles and flys swarming around you as you try to make a grab for it. Only to have a pair of large, and stitched up hands slip underneath your arms and lift you up, up, up and up.

“Now, let me get a proper look atcha.” He grumbled with delight as he brought you chest to chest with him. Your legs dangled underneath you as your arms were pinned against his bare chest. You could only look up at him with your widened eyes colored in fear, which only made him chuckle.

“Now if you ain’t just the cutest sight, I don’t know who is.” Oogie muttered, bringing your back to the table with ease. You only wiggled, really that all you could do as you pleaded with him was images of his stitches opening up to release his inner army of bugs crawling and feasting on your flesh and bones flashed through your mind. “Please! Please don’t eat me! I’m not that tasty!” You yelled, shutting your eyes as you tried to kick his stomach.

But that only made him laugh.

“Oh I do intend to do just that, sugar. But not in a way your thinkin.” He giggled as he rubbed the back of his hand over your cheek, his eyes just lighted up in excitment. In the haze of your fear, you felt…..confused by that statement.

“Wha-what do-” You let out a yelp when he plopped you to the table, the thumb of your body made the dice roll over the table, but Oogie paid it no mind. “Just follow my lead, dollface.” He drawled as he planted his hands beside your head before leaning down to kiss your gasped lips.

You let out another yelp in the kiss as his tongue dominated the kiss, cold and slimy as his jagged teeth grazed over your lips. Your heart bounded in fear and sorrow, almost morning over the loss of your first kiss. You try to push him away on his shoulders but he only pressed his body against yours, further trapping you.

Your breathing became ragged, feeling more trapped as he nipped and sucked at your lips, nearly breaking skin as he continued down your neck, suckling and leaving big red marks. You felt scared, you wanted OUT but….. Why was this feeling so good?

“Why? Why are you doing thi-” He placed his hand over your mouth, shoving his thumb in your mouth. “Don’t ask such questions, Y/n. Just focus on how nice it feels. Doesn't this feel good? Have you ever been fucked before?” That was a word you’ve heard while visiting the Human side, so vulgar, so vile… but why does it feel okay?

“Have you ever been kissed?” He asked, his smile widening then before. You shut your eyes as you shook your head no. “Awwh, well then,” His face came back up to yours, his eyes glowing green as he peered into yours. “ You are in for a treat.” Oogie hissed delightfully before you felt a hand slip into your underwear and rip it off.

You shriek on his thumb as the man leaned back, appearing to sit down at his chair again and kiss at the base of your mound, his beard scratching the delicate part of your skin. Your hands scratched at his hand that was holding you down until something slithered around your wrists and yanked them back.

He parted your shivering legs and cooed at you. “Aw, what’s the matter, little elf? Feelin nervous? Well, don’t worry your pretty mind over it.” You looked down to plead with him to stop, trying to ignore the hot feelings that refused to leave when you froze when his mouth widened up again. The stitches become undone and two black tongue-like appendages slithered out to lick his teeth, one red and black stripped, the other yellow and black. “I'll calm those frenzy nerves of yours down in no time.”

His hands gripped your thighs hard as he lowered his lips to your folds and-OH GOODNESS!

Ecstasy pounded into your veins, a newfound experience that you felt for the first time as one tongue licked up and down your clit while another gently poked into your pussy. Your skin felt warm, your stomach felt warmer still with something tightening. Your cunt clenched around that one tongue as he ate you out harder, harder, sucking on your clit as the other just slathered drool over your folds.

You began to gasp in more air, your back arched in pleasure while his huge hands ghosted up to your hips to hold you still with a bruise like grip. You whimper as you felt the core in your belly grew tighter, tighter, tighteerrr-

Oogie chuckles rumbled through his body and into yours and he thrusted one tongue and sucked HARD and you snapped.

You scream loudly while you arched up as pleasure bloomed through your mind and body, almost trembling when he sat up straighter with juices from your pussy and drool connecting to your throbbing folds. The black and yellow tongue licked around his lips and his mouth closed a bit until it looked ‘normal’ as he look at your trembling body with sickening pride.

“Ya like that, little doll?” You blinked away your tears, your face and body almost red as you panted to regain your breathing back. He laughed as he slid his hands under your tank top and under your bra until his fingers gripped your breasts. You shivered-Oh wow, his hands are MASSIVE!

“God, I’ve wanted you the moment I saw ya when you stepped into the courthouse. All dressed up in that pretty little outfit, that stupid bell ringing with ever’ step, fuck I wanted to just sneak into your town and snatch you up myself.” He confessed as he kissed your neck, nipping again.

“But I waited fer the perfect moment, the right timing to snatch you up and now you’re here. Mine fer the taken, mine to have…” He trailed off as his slick lips trailed up to your own. You turned your head away in disgust, but he caught your lips and kissed you hard again as lovers would go after never seeing each other.

Oogie then ripped your top apart along with your bra as he muttered obscure things. “Gonna stuff ya until you burst, gonna fuck your tiny cunt-fuck!” He sat up, his glasses slightly crooked on his own crooked nose as he unbuckled his pants with hast.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when his hard dick sprung out. His handsome, plump face smirked, almost preemed when he saw your expression. “You really must be a virgin, huh little elf?” You shivered at the excitement in his southern voice as he lowered his body over yours, angling his thick cock to your cunt while placing his hands over your trapped ones.

“Don’t fret, Y/n…” He purred, grinning like a shark. “I’ll be gentle.” You felt him lie as he suddenly snapped his hips forward and-

You screamed at the foreign and painful feeling of having something in your pussy, the feeling of getting practically FULL nearly blinded you, but it felt so, so GOOD! Your body, already overstimulated, began to shake under him again.

Your face scrunched as your body was trying to adjust to him as Oogie cackled, throwing his head back and his mouth widening again. You froze when you saw he stitches his between his chest slowly opening, going down until his belly and you whimpered when some snakes and thick centipedes slithered out and dropped on your body.

“Don’t focus on them, sugar, just focus on how good I’m makin ya.” Oogie whispered in your ear as he began to thrust slowly. You moaned as the feeling of pain left and was replaced by ecstasy and hot. The gross animals on your body began to move all over your skin, slithering and crawling, making your over sensitive skin prickly and warm.

You whine as he nips and sucks at your neck again, his mustache and soul patch rubbing against your skin in the right way as the snakes wrapped around your tits and squeeze gently. The centipedes formed a line around your waist, their tiny feet almost tickling that would make you giggle if Oogie wasn’t kissing you again, and wrapped themselves around and around until they covered your entire waist and squeezed too.

The big man's thrusting began to get harsher, rougher as if he was impatient. Oogie grunted as he held your face with his hands and kissed harder and harder. You mewled in the kiss, tasting your cum, your body feeling so many things at once, the centipede's tight hold managed to hug your waist even when his dick was stuffing your cunt until it bulged.

“I’m so-so close, sugar. Fuck, your pussy is so tight! ” He growled, biting your lip. His thumbs wiped away the tears streaming down your face as the snake's head rested on top of your chest and licked your nipples.

“So tight fer me, so good fer me, I’m going to stuff your cunt until your full!” His thrusting became harder as your core began to get tighter again. Your mind was blank, nearly gone by just how good this all feels.

Then he snapped hard one last time and you felt something warming your inside as you became undone again.

Your ears started to ring while your body felt floppy, loose on the table while Oogie Boogie panted over you. The snakes and the centipedes unwrapped themselves and crawled off of your sweaty body and towards the middle of your chest when you felt Oogies belly opened up and they disappeared inside.

He stood up and started to button up his black shirt, smiling as if he just won the prize at the carnival fair. You just lay still and just breathe slowly as your mind felt empty, clouded by the leftover high and passion. He chuckled as he buckled up his pants as his eyes wandered over your small body. Over your curves, the dips of the hips, how wet your cunt looks, and how glazed your big eyes are.

“Yeah…” He muttered to himself as he scooped you up, his big hand brushing into your tangled hair to cup your head before he turned around to his room. “I think you’re gonna stay here fer a really long time, little sugar…”

#molina verse #big boss #minors do not interact #minors dni #fanfic #Elf!reader #tw: monster fucking #tw kidnapping

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