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pinkrelish · 1 year

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶It's Christmas morning at the Munson's and Adrie has a small request.✶

NSFW — slow burn, fluff, lovesick yearning, very light angst, 18+ for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 7/20 [wc: 3.4k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 7: Breakthrough

Dreams of sleeping in were crushed one tiny footstep at a time.

Morning broke through the burgundy bed sheet hung as a curtain in the window. Slivers of blue fought away the slumbering gloom clinging to the peeled wallpaper, invading the small bedroom in drowsy clock ticks. Murky wine-colored shadows caressed the bundled comforter, crowded the pillows, soothed closed eyes into sweet dreams. Darkness cradled his head and sold him a lullaby fantasy. An aching yearn of a dream where the cold penetrating the thin trailer walls was kept at bay by more than his own body heat. Arms encircling him, a kiss behind his ear, a gentle wake up call. An idyllic rapture easily woven from the fibers of his unguarded heart. An aspiration quickly escaping his wishful fingers at the sound of running, and the vibrations of the trailer shaking, and–especially–the little voice yelling at him his five extra minutes were up.

“Daddy! You have to wake up.” Adrie jumped knees-first onto the mattress, and bounced her way over to him. “It’s Christmas, you have to get up!”

He grumbled from his warm pocket of air under the covers, and she whined.

“Please,” she begged, crawling towards him.

He winced, and hissed, “Ow-ow-ow, watch the hair. Miss Mouse won’t like me if I go bald.” He dropped his head back to where she sank her mighty fists into his pillow, and she apologized by putting all her strength into shaking his shoulder instead.

Wayne called from the kitchen, “I’m gettin’ started on our famous Christmas casserole.”

“Now that,” Eddie said in an upbeat tone, “I’ll get up for.”

“You’re mean,” Adrie pouted, scooting until her knees dug into his spine, and added on to it by saying it wasn’t fair he was making her wait to open presents.

Eddie twisted around to see her manufactured sad face (practiced over the years to elicit the strongest pity in him), and he snaked his arm out of the blankets to hook it around her, bringing her wriggling self in for a sloppy kiss on her forehead. She made a ‘yuck!’ sound and pushed away.

“Go sit, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Willfully, Adrienne slipped from his hold and sprinted the length of the trailer, rattling the metal window panes along her way.

In the following moment of quiet, he inhaled deep, and sighed through his hands scrubbing over his face. The oil in the electric radiator popped. A bird chirped. Music blasted from a neighbor’s home. A faraway bike skidded, spitting up loose rocks from the trailer park’s entrance.

Eddie rolled onto his back, and blinked at the stained ceiling. He tried to not make a habit of sleeping in Adrie’s bed now that she was older, but sometimes his back cried for a break from the lumpy couch cushions.. His back, his hips, his knees, his neck. All of it. Every now and then he needed the relief, to flatten himself out on the mattress after several long days of work wearing down on his body, even if it was considered weird or wrong by others.

Swinging his legs over the short drop to the floor, Eddie straightened out his thick knit socks, sweatpants, sweatshirt. He rubbed his knuckles against his dry eyes, stinging a line of water along his lashes. Flipped off the switch to the heater. Ran his fingers through his tangled hair, mouth tasting of stale beer from drinking last night with Wayne.

He stepped out of the room that used to be his, and staring at him down the hallway, past the kitchen, at the other end of the lousy home, was his little girl. She sat crisscrossed at the stout tree smelling of fresh sap, illuminated by colorful strands of lights, and backed by old ornaments previously stored in cardboard boxes. Her eyes sparkled with silver tinsel happiness, and her springy curls bounced with the excitement of her wave.

Wayne wrung a damp dish towel around his hands as he and Eddie made their way to the couch, and he gestured at her. “Alright, darlin’, you can go.”

The sacrifices were worth it.

In this lousy home filled with overdue bills and underprivileged struggles, was an abundance of love and awe. Eddie sat at the edge of his make-do bed with scratchy cushions that chafed his skin raw, and brushed his shaky fingers over his lips. “Yeah? Is that the one you wanted?” he asked, grinning so wide his puffy sleep-deprived eyes nearly closed from the unbridled joy he felt watching his daughter tear into the Rockin Robot cassette player and recorder; a toy which had an attached microphone so she could record herself singing onto blank tapes. “Wanna make music just like me?”

“Yes! I love it!”

It didn’t take long for Adrie to open her presents in the established order–smallest to largest. Stocking stuffers first, which she dumped out onto the pine-needled carpet, and snatched all the chocolates to put on the coffee table next to the plate of cookie crumbs and empty Looney Tunes mug. Tossed the pack of new socks and dress into a pile, but wore her pink rain boots. The talking Barney the Dinosaur doll, cassette recorder, and Barbie Fold ‘n Fun play house were placed aside for assembly and batteries later.

Wayne gathered the ribbons and bows she discarded to be saved for next year, and said, “Okay, Miss Adrie. Looks like you have one present left.”

The forest green bag with a portrait of Saint Nick sat propped against the tree, nearly as tall as Adrie when she stood and grabbed the handles. She peeked inside, and in one motion, dropped to the floor, and dislodged gift after gift. An eight-page book with reusable stickers she could move around to create scenes of dinosaurs roaming the land. A big box of 64 crayons with two coloring books. A plastic jewelry making kit. A puzzle. Containers of Play-Doh. And the very last item, turned over and shaken out from the bag, was a unicorn.

Adrie squealed, and swept the stuffed animal into her arms for a merciless hug. “He’s so cute!” she said, burying her face in the powder blue fur.

Eddie stopped tracing his lips. Wayne tilted his head at the scene, confused.

Spotting a small red envelope amongst the torn newspaper her presents were wrapped in, Adrie picked it up, and mouthed out the handwriting she wasn’t familiar with. “Santa left this for you.” Adrie held it out for Eddie to take.

Prying his gaze off the unexpected hoard, he accepted the envelope with his name on it, not uttering a word, nor reacting more than necessary. She bolted for her toys, and Wayne’s scrutiny was hot on the side of his expressionless face, watching him slide his finger under the corner of the flap and break the seal gently, avoiding tearing the paper.

He pulled out the card to reveal an illustration of two cardinals in a pine tree flocked with white glitter snow with a generic greeting on the front. Certain words were underlined in pen afterwards.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

He opened it to see if anything was written inside.

One glimpse.

He smashed the card closed and turned his face away from his uncle.

Collecting himself, Eddie sniffed and ran his knuckles along his jaw until he reached back and wrung his nape as he stood up, and walked to the coat hooks, slipping on his jacket and shoving his feet into his work boots without acknowledging his family.

“Where’re you–?” Wayne stared at his back in quiet bafflement.

“Goin’ out for a smoke,” he answered, and shut the door behind him.

~~~

Tree branches stilled after the delicate breeze knocking them together ceased. Hungry dogs went inside for kibble and warm blankets. Kids stopped riding their bikes when their moms called their names. Humidity dampened the crisp air. Everything hushed.

Eddie sat on the frumpy loveseat on the porch built onto the trailer. His forearms laid on his thighs, and the card remained clapped between his palms. He took a shaky breath. Exhaled. Or tried, anyway, to breathe despite his nose stopping up.

He opened the card again and read the message spanning the entire blank space available.

merry christmas eddie,

i hope adrie likes the gifts!

i know it’s hard for you to find peace,

so i tried going for quiet things that would

keep her busy, like the puzzle. it’s double sided!

that’ll keep her entertained. and i loved

play-doh as a kid, so i hope she does

too. & i can get her more coloring books if

she doesn’t like the animal ones. i know

Continued on the other side–

the bracelet kit says ages 7+ but maybe

you can supervise her. i remember having

one when i was little, before parents cared if

we choked on the beads.

SEASONS GREETINGS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR

if she’s not still in her unicorn phase, spare me!

it was too cute to pass up.

anyway, please get lots of rest over the holidays.

you deserve to relax.

–♡–

mouse

His daughter came dashing out the door, and ran up to him with her jacket flapping around her arms. He shoved the card under his thigh, and shifted his focus to zipping it up for her to silence his emotions from surfacing, not having the energy to risk shattering the facade of the morning by explaining why the unicorn she galloped up his leg meant more to him than it did her.

“You like what Santa got you?” he asked, running a heavy hand over her hair.

“He knew exactly what I wanted,” she rejoiced.

With the temperature dropped, and her boots shiny, she raced the stuffed animal up to his hip, and left him to babysit it while she played outside in the frozen-over yard.

Gladly, he tucked the unicorn companion under his arm as Wayne pushed open the squeaky side door and joined him.

Under normal circumstances, Wayne’s old man stoicism worked wonders on getting Eddie to talk. It was a sure thing. He’d see him come home with red-rimmed eyes, or that far away gaze on the worser days, and he sat in earnest patience, knowing his nephew needed the cool down time to organize his thoughts, and then he’d explain what had him upset.

It worked less well in the years following the incident which led to Eddie’s ostracization from Hawkins, but he just had to be patient. It would work. Eventually. Just had to be patient.

And when his nephew refused to speak, Wayne sparked up a cigarette, and ventured, “I don’t, uh, remember us buyin’ those last presents.”

“They’re from the receptionist at work,” Eddie stated. He didn’t move his gaze from staring holes into the worn down floorboards, but he did sink back into the couch, combing his fingers through the unicorn’s white mane.

“Oh,” Wayne said in genuine surprise. “That was nice of her.”

Treading carefully, his uncle spun his hand as he thought of the best way to approach the real conversation he wanted to have. “She seems nice.. To you, and to Adrie.”

That was when Eddie shook his head. “I know where you're going with this,” he warned, absent of any real threat behind the words.

He went silent in stubbornness.

But Wayne just had to be patient.

“She’s very.. uh.” Eddie sighed. He started again, this time looking up at the rusted awning as if it had all the answers to his love life woes. “She’s very vibrant, y’know? From the city, lives a big life, loves performing for people. She doesn’t need a gray cloud like me hanging over her.” He laughed a hollow laugh, and bumped his shoulder into Wayne’s, pretending their conversation was of the light-hearted variety. Like admitting these things aloud didn’t cause a devastating blow to his neglected self-esteem. “Doesn’t need someone like me tying her down to a place like this.”

Wayne scanned the same trailer park in the same small town with the same curse of bearing the Munson name, but he viewed them with less disdain. Less animosity. “You used to be vibrant too, kid. Used to always be talkin’ about your hobbies, playing music too loud, sittin’ out here with your guitar. Always bringing your friends over. What happened?”

Too many things happened, and they were not the kind he verbalized often, so Eddie chose the most obvious.

The corner of his mouth twitched at the joke flashing through his mind. He got in real close to Wayne’s face, raised his hand, and directed his attention. “My vibrancy’s currently ruining her new shoes.”

Tracking his finger, Wayne slowly turned his head in time to see Adrie crack the ice barring her from a puddle, and stomped it into smithereens, sending mud up her pajama pants and into her pretty pink rain boots. She jumped, and jumped, and giggled, and jumped, all over her dad’s heart.

Satisfied, Eddie hugged the unicorn to his chest after making his point.

“Have you considered maybe she likes gray clouds? Or she’s the type that looks forward to the rainy days?”

“We can drop the weather analogies, Wayne,” he said in a curt tone, cutting off his uncle's incessantness. “It’s not that, anyway. I know she likes me, I’m not that dense.”

Wayne didn’t put much effort into keeping the humor out of his voice, “Then what are you being dense about?” The contemptuous head tilt and accompanying eye roll were earned, but not regretted.

“She might be moving away at the end of summer.”

He took a long drag on his cigarette. “Might be?”

“She doesn’t know yet.”

He watched Eddie’s expression slacken to stark blankness again–face and posture wilting, weighed down by his fate–already resigning on a relationship he hadn’t yet given a chance. “Don’t you want to at least try? I mean, you never know. What if she–?”

“Don’t you think I’ve thought about that?” Eddie interrupted, growing annoyed at the topic and allowing it to seep into his temper. “Don’t you think I’ve sat here, day after day, and thought about it from all angles? Over, and over.” He became more animated as he spat out questions rapid-fire. “What if she stays? What if she leaves? What if things work out? What if they don’t? Do I deserve it even if it’s short term? Can I handle it when Adrie asks me why she’s not around anymore? Like, fuck. It’s all I think about. Constantly! Just again, and again. She could move back to New York and live her accomplished life without ever giving me another thought, but what if she doesn’t want to go back? What if she wants to stick around? What if she wants to work with me at the garage forever, and we get married, and buy a small house with a white picket fence, and live out our textbook dream together with 2.5 kids and a dog. Who knows!” Done ranting, Eddie ended it in a full bodied shrug, and collapsed into the cushions, releasing the most cathartic, yet dramatic sigh Wayne had ever heard. “She’s all I think about. Drives me insane.”

Wayne held out the pack of Camels to him, but it was rejected in a limp wave.

“I..” Eddie’s mouth hinged on the words, bottom lip quivering as the questions he posed washed over him as an exhausted, watery-eyed truth, “I didn’t even realize how bad the stress had gotten until she just..” He motioned. “Fixed it.”

Acknowledging the bitter reality, Wayne nodded. “You are much nicer to be around since you two started hanging out.. Adrie sees it, too.”

Not that Eddie meant to be an asshole, but after grueling hours of hard labor, he had little tolerance for the arguments before bath time, or the meltdowns before school. Months prior, he was alongside his daughter, crying harder than she did when the smallest inconvenience set her off, ending with both of them huddled on the floor; one of them screaming to be understood, and the other in a hopeless heap of a man who reduced himself to a shitty father who couldn’t do anything right, drowning under the pressure, anxiety, responsibility to not fuck up again.

Now, he was able to swim to the sun glimmering on the surface.

Wayne landed his rough palm atop Eddie’s untamed bedhead, and soothed him, “You should give yourself a chance at something great. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces if it doesn’t work out.”

Eddie sniffed, and wrung his lips to the side. “You gonna pick up Adrie’s pieces too?” he asked softly.

“I will, son.” Despite the rocky times in their relationship–the slammed doors, the yelling matches, the coming home with a newborn and no money to afford baby formula–Wayne promised him, “Whatever it takes to make you happy. I’ll do it.”

The egg timer in the kitchen dinged.

“Breakfast’s ready,” he grunted, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, and giving the quick-nod-with-a-flattened-smile older men were known for after confiding in one another, and he went inside.

There wasn’t much time for Eddie to process the weight of his internal decision before Adrie was climbing onto the loveseat. And if she noticed she left a trail of mud up his pant’s leg on her way to kneeling beside him, she didn’t care. All that mattered was her icicle skin melting in the warmth of his heavy arm wrapped around her middle; and effortlessly, she fell into the comfort of his embrace while working her hands beneath his hair, untucking it from his jacket’s collar, and hugging him back.

Eddie stashed the card in his pocket, and grabbed the unicorn by the back of its head, putting the nose to her cheek and pretending it was giving her kisses. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, pulling strands of his curls around her fingers while her cold nose was pressed to his throat. “Can Miss Mouse come over to play?”

“Not today. She’s busy with her own celebrations.”

It was weird how calmly he could answer her. No twisted tongue sitting in his mouth like lead, no tensed stomach from an assault of nerves, no racing thoughts of you and Adrie becoming too close before he was ready to disappoint her. The fear was still there, of course. But he didn’t dread it. He held his daughter tucked against his body, and whispered into the unruly hair she inherited, “But she will soon, okay?”

“Yay!” She showed her excitement by constricting her arms around him in a perfect vice.

He wedged the unicorn between them and scooped her onto his hip. “What say you, Princess Adrienne? Shall we go in for a bit of Christmas morning casserole, and partake in reindeer games after getting you into your winter attire? Hmm?” She wasn’t responding. “Adrie?”

Her mouth was hung open, and her hand out, palm turned upward, making a grabby motion at something over his shoulder.

Eddie listened to her, and turned.

Snow fell, fell, fell from the low hanging clouds smudging the sky in shades of gray, bestowing the trailer park with fat flakes drifting beyond the safety of the porch, melting onto the dead grass and brushing past his car’s mirror. Pretty, pretty things of childlike magic Adrie caught on her fingertips. Special things floating to the edge of the wobbly floorboards, and sticking to his hair for her to laugh at.

“I love you,” he said in a kiss to her bitter cold cheek.

“Love you too, Daddy,” she replied in the same fashion, with an additional kiss from the unicorn to the tip of his nose.

Doors around the trailer park opened. Wide eyes of wonder gazed up, and around, searching for friends to celebrate with. Eddie felt exposed in his all black outfit against the growing landscape of white. They were looking at him. Judging him. Munson. But, unlike any other day, the desire to bolt from their intrusive stares dwindled with each graze of his thumb over the card in his pocket.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #the yes policy

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msbigredmachine · 5 months

Text

Netflix & [Redacted] - (Jey Uso/OC)

Is this the most awesomely stressful movie night ever? 😩

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Plus Size!OC

Word Count: 7.3k words

A/N: I'm back to talking too much 😖😂 I've missed writing Jey. Hope it's not too long. Enjoy!

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

It's been a quiet Friday night so far, just the two of you, the 52-inch screen TV showing a random movie he picked on Netflix. But as it stands, neither of you are watching it at the moment, or anytime soon for that matter - what you're doing right now is far more...entertaining.

Laid up together on the sunken sectional in his living room, you indulge in each other's mouths. The fluffy blanket meant to be keeping you warm is discarded somewhere; the sensual heat currently radiating between you doing a stellar job already. The sexual tension has been simmering all night, been simmering since you first laid eyes on each other months ago.

You've never dared to get involved with a client...until him. Having started to tire of the male species in general, this insanely attractive man seemingly appeared from the hidden depths of your wildest dreams. It was at an open house viewing for one of the luxury apartments you were selling in midtown Atlanta. A movie cannot do justice to showcase the electricity that sizzled between you two when he walked through the door. He was charming and funny, fun to talk to, and incredibly sexy. You could tell he was a bad boy, and honestly, you've always had a thing for bad boys. Three other potential clients came in but you hardly paid any attention to them, wrapped up in your lengthy conversation with him and discovering how much you had in common. It culminated with his check in your hand and your phone number in his. Now, just a few months later, you're letting him kiss all over you in his newly furnished apartment that you sold to him, 100% sure that you're finally going all the way tonight.

His large hand smooths along your bare thigh and briefly toys with the hem of your lilac boy shorts. He coaxes a breathless gasp from you when his fingers splay over your ass cheek, gathering as much of the expansive flesh as he can, while he keeps your back warm with his other hand tucked inside the Niutat hoodie that you "stole" from him.

"Mmm, you kiss so good, girl," he coos, complimenting his praises with another kiss.

"So do you," you giggle against his mouth and hold his wrist resting on your butt. "I'm still getting used to how handsy you are."

"Don't mind me, baby. Your body is so fuckin' sexy," he replies, shaking off your grip to keep touching on you. "All this extra juicy thickness for me to play with, I know that's right..."

It feels like you've hit the jackpot with Jey Uso. He is 100% your type; big and brown-skinned, strong and drop-dead gorgeous. Yet, so different from the others. He's a fighter and a nomad, literally and figuratively. Boatloads of charisma. Deceptively smart with a way with words and the ability to get people to do whatever he wants. You've seen him work his magic first-hand with his fans and wrestling audiences everywhere, and admittedly you've fallen under his spell too. You're immensely attracted to him, and though you've tried to take things slow, you're all but certain that all of that will change tonight, and you're in equal parts excited and terrified.

Yet, your bold actions take over as you cheekily nibble on his ear and rub your leg back and forth on the crotch of his thin shorts. This drags another growl from him as his eyes darken menacingly.

"You tryna start somethin' huh. Best believe I'ma finish it," he warns, licking his full lips revealing his silver grill peeking between them.

"I ain't startin' nothin'," you contest, your breath hitching when he lightly squeezes your ass and then smacks it.

"Yeah right, you rubbin' up on me like this, kissin' on me...I know you tryna tell Daddy sumn'..."

Fuck. The whole 'Daddy' thing does a lot of unholy things to your loins. Even though sex hasn't happened yet, the makeout sessions are out of this world. All your dates have ended with passionate kissing and touching, with him having to say goodbye and leaving your lips swollen, your clothing rumpled, your heart beating like crazy and your pussy drowning from the salacious foreplay you keep subjecting yourself to. "I just like kissing you, that's all," you murmur shyly with a blush.

"I like kissin' you too, ma. You got the softest." Kiss. "Sexiest." Kiss. "Sweetest lips I've ever tasted." One more kiss. "I'd like to do other things to you, but you frontin'," he adds.

Sucking your teeth, you sit up straight and glance up at the ceiling to avoid the heat of his stare. "Stop, we do stuff..." you retort quietly.

"Like what? This?" His hands sneak back under your hoodie to cup your breasts, rubbing them in circular motions. Your stiff nipples tighten some more from his touch, straining almost uncomfortably through the confines of your bra. "We should be doing more, baby. I know you want to," he says, making his low, deep syrupy voice even sexier.

"You are so dangerous. I should be runnin' far away from you, ya know."

"And yet you're here, with your overnight bag in my room and wearin' them tiny ass booty shorts with no panties. You exactly where you wanna be," he counters smoothly. "By the way, got rid of your booty call yet? What that fool's name again?"

He just has to bring Lawrence up, doesn't he? "Got rid of your hoes yet? What's their names?" you shoot right back.

Honestly, the less said about your failed relationships, the better. It was complicated, for both of you. Lawrence is an ex you've muddied the waters with by sleeping with him occasionally. Jey recently finalized his divorce from a woman he'd been with since college and was now sowing his wild oats, garnering a number of side pieces in the process. You 'met' two of them at his cookout party a couple of weeks back. Apparently they had shown up unannounced, his sister-in-law Trinity informed you. Trin had taken a shine to you and was kind enough to fill you in on your potential boyfriend's dalliances. You don't share your men under any circumstances, but if that apparatus between his legs is half as talented as his mouth and hands, then you're willing to forgo that caveat.

"I know you forgot all about your man when you first laid eyes on me. I saw the way you looked at me," Jey boasts.

"Only cuz you were lookin' right back," you say. "I just couldn't believe a man could have such pretty eyes," you elaborate, knowing that will make him smile and it does; his dimples deepen and make him look cuter. He is so handsome, and you are finding him harder and harder to resist.

"I remember that dress you was wearing. That big ol' booty was cryin' out to me, bruh. Beggin' me to squeeze and manhandle it in all the right ways. I wanted to bend you over that kitchen counter over there, give you da bidness, know what I mean?"

"And I remember I couldn't stop watching your lips move when you were talking to me," you add, inwardly swooning as you reminisce. "It don't help that you got this habit of licking them every five seconds..."

"I know somewhere I can lick," he drawls. He's pinning those hypnotic eyes on you now, again, looking at you all hot and sensual like he wants to devour you. With his fingers, he gently pushes your cheeks together to part your mouth and slide his tongue inside. Thick and warm, it lavishes the insides of your mouth. Before Jey, kissing was never this...intimate...for you. Nothing you experienced before remotely matched the passionate scenes in romantic films that swept the characters off their feet. Jey's kisses do just that. They are the kind that make you forget your name and sweep you off the ground never to come down again.

"How 'bout we finish the movie, hmm?" you suggest breathlessly.

"Later," he dismisses, and pats his thighs. "Sit on my lap and face me, beautiful."

The nerves rush through your body, but you're currently fueled by wine and want, so you oblige him. As you straddle him, you fight back a moan as his erection nudges persistently against your core. His arm winds around your waist to pull you in, kissing you with the same measured, drugging nature with a little bit of aggressiveness mixed in this time. His hands run up your spine and then back down to grasp your cheeks, squeezing them each time. He growls into your mouth as your fingers trail a path from his chest, up his broad shoulders and all the way to his blue-tinged mullet, tugging the back of his hair.

"Mmm, yeah, get rough with me, baby," he moans. He loves it when you yank and pull at him when you kiss, it always proves his point that you want to fuck as much as he does. His thick tongue pokes out, darting beneath the seam of your lips, and you catch it with a long suck that has him moaning his pleasure. In retaliation, both hands make their way inside your shorts to grab your round ass, his fingertips grazing your pussy lips from behind.

"I want you, Y/N. I want that pussy." he murmurs.

His dick is growing harder against you, and it feels so big that you're unable to stop yourself from grinding down on it. His grip is firm and possessive as he rocks you on top of him like you are riding him. You moan needily from the building sensations, your arousal spiraling out of control already. You make an attempt to climb off of him, but he grunts in protest and holds you down on him. Though you're on the heavier side of the weight spectrum, he's still bigger than you and definitely much stronger, and he's not letting you escape at all.

"Fuck," you gasp against his lips, feeling his long fingers dig into the soft, bare flesh of your backside as you dry-hump each other. They breach the crack of your ass before teasing the outer lips of your pussy from the back. Before he can sink one finger inside you, you manage to tear yourself away and distance yourself, your lips parted and panting.

"I'm scared, okay?" you blurt out.

For a long moment, Jey stares at you, his expression unreadable. "Scared of what?" he asks patiently.

You cringe as his hands clench into fists on his lap, sensing his palpable frustration. Shit, why did you have to open your fucking mouth? Shaking your head, you look away. "Never mind," you mumble, feeling stupid already.

"Hey, don't do that," he chides you firmly, though his eyes are kind and curious. "Tell me what's wrong. I won't know how to help if you don't."

A small, nervous sigh escapes your lips. Right now you want to get your stuff and run home never to come back, but you steel your nerves and open up. "I'm scared of the disappointment. Sex-wise, I mean. Me being disappointed or you being disappointed or both. Lawrence also talked all that shit to get me to have sex with him again," you ramble, making a motion with your hands to mimic talking, "Bragged and bragged about what I was missing and all the shit he was gonna do to me. It's been weeks and not once has he made me come...I have to do it myself afterwards every time. He said he was still getting used to fucking a big girl again. Yes, I know he's a punk bitch and I need to get rid of him. But I feel like I've forgotten how to have good sex and I don't want more of the same here."

There, you've said it. You can't bring herself to look at Jey, and your cheeks heat up under his scrutinizing gaze. You know he's assessing your words and he probably thinks you're a weirdo and you won't blame him if he does.

"That fucking dumbass."

Stunned, you look back up at him, intrigued by the way he shakes his head like a disappointed father. "Ay, you gotta send that jabroni packin', uce," he replies, "You can't be wasting premium pussy on that lame ass motherfucker. You need a man that know how to take care of you like you deserve. No real man gets off and leaves their lady hangin'. That's fuckin' wack, bruh."

He reaches up to cup your chin between his fingers, his gaze soft and tender. "Now that you've told me this, I wanna fuck you more than ever," he continues, "I wanna take my good ol' time withchu, so I know what you want and how you like it. I want you to feel so good you won't see that nut coming. I can show you a whole lotta things, pretty girl, but only if you let me."

Wow. You absorb his strong confident words that temporarily make you forget your fears. Is he telling the truth? Will he be able to give you what you truly need?

Before you can respond, a sudden loud moan that doesn't come from either of you startles you. You look to the TV and your jaw drops as you witness the main characters of the movie going at it in a bathroom stall in what looks like a nightclub.

"Damn, they fuckin' fuckin'," Jey comments. And he's right. For fake sex, it looks realistic as hell, with the actress' hands on the wall, her exposed breasts bouncing, her moans throaty and desperate as the guy pounds her aggressively from behind. You squirm in your seat as the scene seems to go on and on. This is surely a sign for you and Jey to finally get it on. You dare to peek at him to catch his reaction. He looks fascinated, a lopsided smirk on his face, his eyes dark and filled with unbridled desire. Your eyes fall to the outline of his crotch, his erection twisted to the side thanks to your earlier shenanigans and what he's watching now.

"Okaaaaay, I think it's time for more wine," you announce loudly, jumping up and grabbing both your empty wine glasses.

Helping himself to some popcorn, Jey eyes you with a smirk as you scurry across the open plan layout of the room. Seeing you flustered is only making him want you more. With just the kitchen lights turned on he can see you more clearly. Your thick thighs and fat juicy ass are barely hiding that chocolate pussy he wants to feast on and dig out so badly. "Why you runnin', girl?" he calls out.

"I'm not," you lie, doing your best to block out the sultry moans and slapping skin coming from the TV as you pick up a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. "Which one do you want? White or red?"

"Only one thing I want right now, baby," he answers unabashedly.

You blush profusely and shake your head, "Chill, Uce."

"Call me Uce again and we gon' have problems," he warns.

That surprises you. "Thought you said your friends call you Uce."

"Not friends that I wanna fuck."

Good Lord. In his defense, Jey has made no bones about how much he wants you and you're not sure you can hold out for much longer. This is the man you've been hoping for, the man you've desperately needed to make you feel alive again. Lawrence made you question your confidence when he acted like he was doing you a favor by sleeping with you. But Jey seems different; he seems genuinely interested in making you come and making you feel good. It's just a case of you being brave enough to give in to him completely.

"Earth to Y/N."

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice right behind you, which is quickly followed by his hard body pressing against your back. Of course you've spaced out thinking about sex with him. It's not the first time.

"You good?" he asks.

"Yeah, sorry, one glass of red wine coming right up," you stutter, struggling to keep a steady hand to pour some into his glass. His dick is hard against your ass, no thanks to the smut playing on TV, with the couple now having sex inside a car. He's all up on you, making you feel every plane and every ridge on his hard, chiseled body. His muscular arms wrap you in a big hug, at one with the fleshy softness of your body as he kisses your ear.

"You're turned on, huh? Seein' them two fucking like that? That why you ran?" he whispers, his baritone voice laced with mischief. "Want me to fuck you like that?"

The answer on the tip of your tongue evaporates as he reaches down to squeeze the chunk of skin on your inner thigh. His lips find the nape of your neck, and you move almost on autopilot as you sweep your goddess braids to the side to allow him full access to your throat. His wet, open-mouthed kisses, suckling on your pulse like a damn vampire, are driving you crazy. His large body envelopes yours, pressing your stomach into the counter, his legs purposely spread to grind himself against your backside. The throbbing sensation in your nipples and your clit makes you gulp down both your glasses in one go.

Jey's hand goes down the front of your shorts, your body going slack as he rubs the wetness that has pooled between your legs. You can't stop the throaty sounds that he loves so much from escaping. You're a soaked mess and for Jey, it's like a shark smelling blood.

"The movie, remember?" you breathe, your resolve slipping away as you look back at him, his lustful grin making your heart pound.

"Fuck the movie, let's make our own," he says. Your mouths collide again, kissing so deeply and hungrily it's almost impossible to tell who ends where and who starts where. This is nothing like the other comparably tame liplocks from earlier. He's telling you exactly what he wants and he plans to get it now.

Turning you around, he descends slowly to his knees before you and takes his time dragging your shorts down your legs. You look on helplessly, your anxiety battling with your desire as he palms your thigh and props your right leg over his shoulder, licking his lips at the sight of your bare folds glistening for him. He breathes you in, basking in the scent he plans to familiarize himself with. He looks up at you, and what you see in his eyes dries up your throat.

"Pretty ass pussy. Lemme eat it up, babe," he growls.

He pushes his face against your center and penetrates you with his tongue. Crying out in pleasure, you grip the sides of the counter for balance as the pressure from his mouth ramps up immediately, his long fingers molding your ass, his breath warming your core, his tongue finding every crevice you own with devastating strokes as he licks up every drop of your arousal for him.

With trembling hands, you lift the hem of your hoodie up to your chest while weaving your other fingers through the soft waves of his hair, holding him to you. He's doing the most delicious things to you, coaxing your juices out of your pussy. You can feel his tongue inside you, his mouth getting wetter and sloppier with your juices and his saliva running down your thigh. You want to die as he twirls his tongue all over your protruding clit, his pace unhurried as he holds your leg tight, smothering his face between your thighs, and that familiar warmth starts to brew in your stomach.

"Oh my god, Jey..."

The pitch of your moans increases. You keep squirming, trying to pull away, but he clamps his arms around your waist to hold you still. You're not going anywhere. He knows you're close from the way you throb on his tongue and picks up the pace, lapping wildly at your folds then gently biting your clit. "That's it, come in my mouth," he orders huskily.

"Ohhhhhh...." you squeal, throwing your head back as you flood his mouth with your release. This is the hardest you've orgasmed in about a year and your mind is blown. Jey remains glued to you, his dangerous mouth making you quiver again as you already feel another approaching. You were confident he would get the job done, but he has delivered tenfold in just a matter of minutes. You have a feeling you'll be retiring your vibrator real soon.

The sounds coming out of you as you come a second time are otherworldly, making Jey harder than he's been in a long time. You're definitely the sweetest he's ever tasted. It's there and then he decides he can't hold back anymore. He needs to have you, now.

Dragging you away from the counter, he lifts your body, limp and weak from pleasure, into his arms effortlessly, carrying you back to the living room and sitting carefully on the massive couch with you on top of him.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asks with a predatory look in his eyes as he tugs the hem of your hoodie.

"Mm-hmm," you reply, allowing him to drag the garment up and above your head. Your gaze falls on the small square foil packet that's appeared in his right hand. This is really happening.

"Say that shit with your full chest, look me in the eye. You sure you can handle me?" he questions.

"The question is, Mr. Main Event, can you handle all this?" Leaning back a little, you spread your legs far apart and pat your exposed pussy with a raised eyebrow, the wine in your system ramping up your bravery as you taunt him.

Jey rebuttals with a full, open-mouthed kiss that curls your toes as you taste yourself. The embrace intensifies while he unhooks your bra from behind, letting his calloused fingers play with the softness of your breasts. You moan at the urgency in his touch, the feel of his clothed dick bumping against your bare, wet center. He pulls away, not taking his eyes off you as he whips his t-shirt over his head, revealing all those beautiful tribal tattoos he shows off on TV, his taut abs sprinkled with a little hair that trails down south. You move off him to pull his shorts down his hips, and you zero in on the large wet stain on his gray cotton briefs. You almost can't believe it's you that's done that to him. He unwraps the last of it, and you take in the glorious vision of his briefs falling away too, allowing his cock to spring free.

"Shit," you exclaim.

Jey looks down at himself, then back at you. "Good shit or bad shit?" he smirks.

"Both." You can't take your eyes off it. Long, caramel brown and girthy with a curve to it, destined to reach that spot inside you that will make you cry. Fuck. It's going to hurt so good; you can already feel it sliding inside...

"I wanna suck it, Daddy," you tell him sweetly, closing up the space between his sturdy thighs. You pick up his dick at the base; it's as heavy as it looks, thick and veiny and yet smooth at the same time. You like the way it twitches when you stroke it lightly in your hand, and like it even more when he moans in reaction. You wind your tongue around the slit of his head to lick up the precum hanging there, and then wrap your lips around his flesh. He fills your mouth right away, stretching it dangerously. It's a tight fit, but lucky for you...and him...you love a challenge.

As you swallow him up, a deep, contented groan escapes Jey's body, making him toss his head back and sink into the sectional as his dick sinks further into your mouth. Your mouth is so warm, your lips so soft as they glide expertly up and down his length. With another moan, his hand curves around the back of your head, clenching his fingers in your braids when your lips dare to meet his pelvis. Your tongue lashes around the base before you release him, a long string of saliva trailing after you as you pull back to breathe for a second, then dive back in.

He loves the sight of you on your knees before him, torturing him with your dizzying oral prowess. His stomach clenches as your other hand slips over his balls, massaging them lovingly in your palm, making him pulse in your mouth. Catching his glazed-over gaze, you flutter your lashes innocently at him, then flash him a devilish wink as you take every inch of his cock down your throat, savoring the taste of him. His hand tightens in your hair, as do his balls when you start to suck him harder and stroke him faster, and he knows he won't last long if he lets you carry on like this.

"Damn girl, I ain't tryna nut yet." He tugs your hair hard enough to pull you off him, his breath catching at the sight of his dick plopping wetly against his abs with your saliva all over it. He puts the latex on as quickly as possible and meets your famished eyes. "Come up here, babe, come fuck me," he beckons to you with a crook of his finger.

You kiss along his dick, up his abs and chest, and then his neck. He helps you straddle him and covers your mouth with a slew of smoldering kisses. Using his free hand to grasp his dick at the base, he lines it up with your pussy, grunting softly when he feels your wetness against his hard dick. You press your chest into his, your ass lowering to welcome him inside you. Your jaw drops as your pussy stretches around him. His girth and length are invasive in the best way, and you whine softly as he slowly guides your hips down to meet him halfway. "Fuck..." you gasp.

"Too much?" he asks with a shaky voice, just as affected as you are by your joining.

Swallowing hard, you ignore the quivering of your thighs and shake your head. "I can take it," you breathe. At least, you hope you can.

"Good girl," he groans and runs his hands along your sides, "C'mon, ride me."

His hold on your waist is firm as you rise and fall on his erection, lifting up and down, circling your hips with each drop down. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He's so deep inside you; it's a miracle you're not screaming down his apartment. He can't resist burying his face in your soft titties, practically motorboarding them while you work him, looking down occasionally at the way your hips roll. He returns your hazy stare with a cocky smirk, flashing his grill between his full lips.

"Jey..."

"Yeah, baby? Feel good?" he asks with a breathless kiss. You reply by adjusting into a squat, gripping the backrest behind him as you take the reins from him and ride him harder. Jey meets you thrust for thrust, grunting as your tight little pussy pulls and tugs around him. You tuck your face in his neck, moaning into his skin. His strong arms hold you close, keeping you chest to chest. One large hand scrapes down to your right ass cheek, smacking the skin hard as you bounce up and down on his cock. Both of you groan and grind together, time and space ceasing to exist as you lose yourselves in each other.

"You feel incredible, baby, so damn tight," Jey whispers, his palms running from the back of your neck down your spine, over your hips and resting under your thighs. "Damn, I'm deep in this pussy, girl, make me wanna take this damn rubber off..."

You moan at his dirty words, your palms planted on his hard pecs and moaning even louder as he steers you on his dick, his fingers pressed into your hip bones as he grinds you onto him, stimulating your sweet spot with a delicious precision that unlocks you again.

"Uuuuugh," your voice sounds strangled as another orgasm washes over you. Your body trembles from head to toe from how hard you're coming all over his cock. Jey chuckles against your throat, his lips brushing soft kisses over your thrumming flesh. Your fingers thread through his hair, your face pressed to his to catch your breath as he rolls you onto your back.

As he kneels between your spread legs, your mouth waters as he grabs his dick and massages it, spreading your cum all over the length, his heavy breathing matching yours. The lights emanating from the TV work wonders for his caramel skin and the muscles adorning his frame. His beautiful dark irises sparkle like fireworks as he taps your pussy with his dick, making you jerk from the sudden shock of it. Your legs recoil instinctively, but he pushes your thigh down to your chest and does it again and again, until all you can hear over your moans is the splashing of your pussy from the pressure of his heavy cock. It sounds so good and gushy, just the way he wants it. He hoses you down with that sexy ass smirk of his, causing you to whimper with a desperate need for him to be inside you again.

"Mm-hmm," he murmurs with appreciative eyes, "You look so hot, babe, buck naked, laid out on my couch with this pretty cunt wet and open. I should punish your fine ass for holding out on me, but it's a'ight. We both gettin' what we want, and that's this big dick deep in this fat pussy. You gon' get every inch of Daddy's dick."

He pulls you towards him, draping your legs over his. He grabs his dick again and guides himself slowly into you, one inch at a time. Your hand rests on his hip, your eyes fixated as you watch him sink deeper and deeper. Your legs curl around his waist, your heels digging into his backside as he starts moving. Your head tips backwards with a wanton moan; the angle with which he's fucking you has you feeling like he's in your stomach. The base of his cock grinds sensually against your clit with every deep thrust, whipping your insides into a frenzy of sensations.

"Shit, baby..."

"Yeah, this how I fuck good pussy, I stroke it just like this. Fuuuck," his taunts dissolve in a moan as pleasure licks his spine. With another touch of his mouth to yours, he shoves your thighs against your chest and keeps feeding you the dick, making a hiss escape from the back of your throat. He pulls all the way out to the tip of his dick before sinking back inside, repeating this until your pussy is making squelching sounds surrendering to his strokes. Your arms wind around his shoulders, luring him down to keep him close to you. You stare into his dilated pupils. His salt-and-pepper beard gleams with traces of your first two nuts and the visual is erotic as hell. It's fascinating to watch the storm in his eyes, his pouty lips parted with pleasure, his muscles flexing as the strength of his thrusts intensifies.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck." The smacks of his pelvis grow harder, punching groans out of you. Baby boy is knocking the Sonic rings out of your pussy now, and your eyes roll in the back of your head as he holds your thick thighs down while he pounds into your heat, leaving you gasping like a fish out of water. Jey paws at your breast, flicking your nipple with his fingers, and you can feel your brain short-circuiting as several million nerve endings ignite within you.

"Mmm, am I handlin' it now huh? Am I handlin' it?" he throws your words back at you.

"Yes, Daddy," you moan, your fingers sinking into his back.

"You know this pussy mine, right?" he says, his eyes boring into yours.

"Uh huh," you choke out, gasping as he grinds into you for a few seconds, then resumes pumping into you again. The switch-up is crazy.

"That's my girl. My pretty girl with my pretty pussy." Your mouths clash noisily, his hands massaging and caressing all over your voluptuous body. It's a known fact that Jey loves women of all types. But there's something about a thick, sexy, pillow-soft woman with soft and delicate features that drives him wild. They are his favorite, and he knew the moment he first saw you that he would not rest until he had you. Now that he has, he concludes that Lawrence is never getting you back.

He leans back up and releases your breast to wrap his hand around your throat, another dark chuckle slipping from his lips as your pussy instantly moistens around him. "Ahh, you like that? Like to be choked like a bad girl? Like a naughty lil' slut?"

It's the nasty talk for you. Nothing sounds as sexy as shit-talking done right, and boy, he's doing it so right. He means every word he's saying, and even sexier, he's backing it up with spectacular fucking that you already know you'll never get enough of. Being someone who wrestles for a living, he knows how to make his touch firm and gentle in all the right moments. It's a deadly skill that he's using on you expertly, and you know from this night forward, you're ruined. You just know it.

Letting out a low growl, Jey fucks you faster, harder, watching your face contort with pleasure. He has you making so much noise with both your mouth and your pussy. He barely hears your mewling warning that you're about to come again, deciding to up the ante by hitching your legs over his elbows and fucking you into the couch. The back of your head mashes almost uncomfortably against the bottom of the headrest, but you take no notice because you're feeling too good. Your moans morph into screams which are quickly cut off as his hand tightens around your throat, making you look into his eyes and making you take it. Your nut comes crashing down so hard you're seeing stars. You're a moaning, shivering mess, your hands pressing his abs in a futile attempt to stop your pussy from gushing all over his groin and messing up his brand new sectional. But he doesn't seem to care.

"Nah, baby, take this dick like you said you can," he growls with gritted teeth. He grips you tight, yanking you up closer to his groin and thrusting faster into you. "Unnh, look at that. Look at that wet ass pussy comin'. This dick real good, huh babe?"

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into? You're dealing with a literal demon. You want to throw in the towel, wave the white flag. The orgasms you've already experienced have you feeling paralyzed, unable to move even as your ass rests in a large wet spot on the couch.

"Jey, please, baby, wait," Your pitiful moans fall on deaf ears as he pulls out and flips you over before you can finish your sentence. When he cups your pussy from behind, you arch your ass and automatically spread your thighs, grinding against his fingers. You feel like such a slut. One minute you're begging him to stop, the next you're riding his damn hand. Deep down inside you love it, love the myriad of sensations and emotions you haven't felt since before you met this Samoan specimen.

The fun and games continue as his fingers are replaced by his plum-shaped dickhead pushing back into your wet pussy. Both of you groan hungrily as the friction is nonexistent now thanks to your sopping slickness. Another moan falls from your lips as he smacks your ass while grinding into you, making himself fit all the way in and basking in your little noises as you accommodate him. He eases you flat onto your belly, nudging your thighs wider apart, hunching over you as he works his magic all over again, stroking in that pussy until your eyes are in the back of your head. "Fuck, I'm deeper in that shit baby, holy fuck," he gasps, one hand pressing into your back to hold you down, the other braced beside your head as he rails you hard and deep.

The fullness you feel in your pussy and stomach, the jiggles of your ass from his thighs bumping into it, your creamy cum coating his dick and balls which he feeds back to you...you feel them all at once. There's only one person's sex you want from this day forth, and it's Jey's. You want his big ass dick every damn day. It is a high that you never want to come off of. You're obsessed with the way it makes your body feel, the way it makes your prim and proper self shout and moan and undulate with no inhibitions.

Lawrence who?

"Oooh," you whine over and over into the pillow pressing your face, your vision starting to blur, "oooh, oooh, you feel gooood Daddy..."

Jey moans in your ear, snaking a hand back around your throat and giving it a light squeeze, "How good? I bet you gon' come again," he taunts.

The pressure of his fingers on each side of your neck ensures that every breath you take is shallower than the last as he drives in and out of your pussy, in and out, his long, thick shaft finding your g-spot each time he slides home. It doesn't take long for you to explode, shaking uncontrollably beneath his heavy warmth. His dirty talk has done you in again. His head drops down to suckle your neck, humming his appreciation as his hips wind into you with added vigor.

"Daddy..." your voice is barely above a whisper, and even then, your breath is stolen from you when he squeezes your ass cheeks and then slaps each one hard, repeating the action mid-thrusts. He's ruthless, making your pussy sing filthy, shameless, raunchy noises that cause that familiar burn to heat you up for yet another delicious climax.

"Let Daddy pound out his pussy, baby, let Daddy pound that shit," Jey says, raising himself up, yanking your ass up with him as he kneels behind you, not missing a single stride. Your thick hips are in his grasp, his thumbs pressed in the small of your back to keep your arch steady. He's fucking you so damn good. The amount of pleasure he's gifted your sex-starved body in multiple positions has left you speechless. This is a dicking down for the ages, one you never thought you would experience in your lifetime.

A shiver runs up your back as his fingers slip down to rub your clit, exacerbating all the sensations swimming within your body. Your mouth falls wide open but you have been robbed of all capacity to speak, reduced to loud incoherent groans as his hips snap relentlessly against your ass.

"Look at me, baby girl," Jey commands gruffly when you stuff your face into the pillow to muffle your screams, "Look at me. Let me see that beautiful face as you come."

You do as he says, acutely aware of how fucked out you must look right now. As you twist your upper body towards him, you drink in his own expression, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his brows furrowed, his body actually trembling a little as he buries his cock in you. You realize he's losing control too, his impending climax pulling him under. He looks so sexy, it feels so good that it overwhelms you and triggers your orgasm, ecstasy ripping through you with brute force.

"Oh my god, Jey," you lick your dry lips, your strength depleted from the barrage of pleasure. You feel, as well as hear his own husky moan through his mouth pressed to yours as as your pussy tenses around his dick swelling inside you.

"Unhhh, I'm comin', I'm comin' for you, baby," he rasps; this big strong man so weak and helpless for you that you're aroused anew. He grinds desperately against you, stuttered breaths leaving both your throats as your world spirals. You let out a stunned yelp when he slams into you once and then freezes, his cock throbbing as he empties inside you. The guttural moan he lets out as he comes hard is the sexiest thing you've ever heard. It's fascinating to see him fall apart like this, enraptured in total pleasure as he gives himself to you. You miss him the second he pulls out of you. He slumps down next to you, exhaling hard and heavy, and you crawl into his waiting arms for a cuddle. It's then you realize the room is darker than usual; the end credits of that X-rated film are rolling.

"You know you ain't goin' home this weekend, right?" Jey informs you, rubbing your backside with a lick of his lips and hooded hungry eyes. It's an order, not a request, because he's not letting you go anywhere, not after the indescribable high he's just experienced.

"I'm not sure I can even think right now. I'm so damn weak," you half-sigh, half-giggle, leaning into him as he trails soft kisses along your shoulder.

"Whatchu need? Water? Energy drink?" he offers.

"Water, please," you answer meekly, and he is up from the couch and in the kitchen in a flash. Watching him walk away with that back tattoo and that firm, fine ass sends a thrill of lust to your pussy which still quivers between your thighs. You're almost afraid to touch it, you know it's definitely beat up, all sloppy and puffy from his licking and rubbing and fucking.

He returns with two bottles of water and hands one to you. You thank him and twist open the cap to gulp it down, appreciating the cool liquid gliding down your parched throat. Jey reclines beside you and chugs his bottle in one go. You can't help but ogle his caramel steel rod, the condom gone, yet still hard and streaked with your collective cum. You blush when he catches your wandering eye, chuckling to himself as he wraps his arms around your waist and eases you onto his lap. He strokes your hair, presses his lips to your forehead, and then kisses you deeply. You cup his bearded chin, enjoying his little hums mingling with yours as your tongues tangle together. When you pull back, you swoon at the dreamy look in his gorgeous eyes with a dreamy, sated smile of your own.

"You made me come in every position. That's never happened before," you tell him.

His lip curls proudly at your statement. "Well, I got a couple more positions to test out. We just gettin' started."

Your words lodge in your throat at the seriousness in his voice. "Really?" you squeak out.

"Yep. We goin' to the bedroom soon. We doin' this all night, bae," he says.

"Damn. You're threatening me with a good time, but can a bitch breathe first?" you jokingly gripe, but the knowing gleam in his eye tells you he's not joking. At all. Your pussy flutters despite the beating it's already taken.

"Of course." His response is salaciously cryptic, letting the words hang in the air as he leans in for another gentle kiss. "So...were you disappointed?"

"With this? Hell no! Not at all. It was amazing."

Again, that damn smirk. "I agree. And there's a lot more where that came from." He points at the bottle in your hand. "Drink up, baby girl. You gon' need all the energy you can get."

THE END.

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freelancearsonist · 26 days

Text

oblivion

➔ Dave York x gn!Reader - 2.2k

➔ Dave left years ago to keep you safe from him. Now, he comes back to finally claim what’s his.

➔ Rated MA for kinda dark fic?????, gn!reader (no pronouns or anatomy described), reader is able-bodied but otherwise is physically a blank slate, infidelity (Dave cheats on his wife w/ reader), smut, choking, biting, blood, this is the midnight mass au that no one asked for [pls let me know if i missed any warnings you think should be included :)]

➔ Thank you to my love @ozarkthedog for this prompt, if you're reading this ily <3

Everyone is leaving this island–your home–in droves. The seas are drenched in oil, and there’s nothing left to fish or net. People are moving on to bigger, better things. But not you; you’ve never enjoyed the mainland, never craved the just-another-face-in-the-crowd feeling of those big cities. You love your little small town, even if most of it is gone now.

You go for your nightly walk, and the loneliness gets to you for the first time since the spill. There’s no lights on in house windows, no kids playing out in front yards. It’s just you as the sun goes down, casting everything in fiery red and orange brilliance.

Some nights seem darker than others, regardless of the star visibility or the moon’s phase. It’s almost like the air swells and surrounds you until it feels like a thick, dark blanket. It can be almost stifling; and those nights never quite leave your mind.

That’s what it feels like tonight, and for no discernable reason. There’s a wicked sense of foreboding–even more so than you’ve come to be accustomed to. It ramps up even more so when you see the only other house in the neighborhood with lights on: Dave’s house.

Dave left with his wife and daughters two years ago, long before the spill destroyed the island’s economy. No one’s stepped foot in it since–you figured it just never sold. But certainly it hasn’t sold now; who would want to move to the island at a time like this?

Curiosity gets the better of you, maybe because a traitorous little part of your brain wonders if it’s Dave. If he’s finally come back for some reason, if he’s here to fix things. That nagging little hope keeps you up at night more often than you care to admit; that he might return and you’d get a second chance. Either way, you don’t think twice about walking up the short driveway to knock on his door.

It’s completely silent for a long few minutes; long enough that you almost knock again. But maybe this is just some fluke thing, an electrical malfunction or something that turned his lights on. He swore he’d never be back, after all. It’s just wishful thinking.

It started on your night walks. He jogged the same route every single night after the girls went to bed, and eventually his jog slowed to a walk when he would come alongside you. You’d walk side by side and talk about anything and everything, vent about work or life and tell each other little stories. Before too long, you knew him better than anyone, and it was all completely by accident. Just the neighborly kindness of him slowing his pace to chit chat with you.

And then this man who you shared nothing with besides a nightly exercise route, after weeks of small talk every single evening, kissed you. In the middle of a street, in the middle of a very small island community where every single person knew every single thing about every other person; a community where every single person knew that Dave was married, and that he wasn’t married to you.

You dragged him home to scold him somewhere that no prying ears would catch it, and somehow you ended up in bed underneath him. All desperately breathless kisses and deeply earth-shattering thrusts and muffled moans of pleasure.

He whispered that no one had ever made him feel so alive before, that he’d never wanted someone more. And you wanted to believe him, so you did.

Miraculously, no one ever found out; not about that first time, and not about the million times after. No one ever found out about all the times that you swore up and down it could never happen again, only to fall right back onto your knees for him. No one ever found out about the time that he finally agreed with you, and the way you cried yourself to sleep when he stuck to it and didn’t catch up to you on your walk the next night. No one ever found out about how the next night after that, he caught up to you and begged for you–for your forgiveness, for the feelings that only you had ever been able to make him feel.

And for a while, it was enough. Being his at night under secrecy of darkness was plenty; until all of a sudden it wasn’t. Until you would bump into his wife at the market and nearly have a panicked breakdown by the time you got home, wondering just how much she knew. Until he would say things that were heavier and heavier–things that translated to something akin to ‘I love you’ without actually being the words. Until he had to leave for a work assignment.

He’d be gone for a week. That was all. A simple job, he’d explained. Somewhere overseas, but that was really all he said. He never liked to talk to you about his work much. He said he’d be back before you could even miss him.

But it was a month before he returned, and he came back different.

Withdrawn, dark eyes darker than usual, sunkissed golden skin looking a little insipid. You tried to convince yourself that he was just coming down with a cold, that the way he’d put his hand around your neck just to feel your pulse thrum under his fingertips and squeeze a little tighter than comfortable wasn’t related; that the way he nearly broke skin from biting into your shoulder so hard wasn’t anything to be concerned about; that the way he seemed to have doubled strength while he was away wasn’t cause for alarm.

You lied to yourself because it was easier than the truth; whatever had happened on his assignment, he wasn’t the same man anymore. The man you had started to fall in love with, circumstances be damned, was long gone.

But it came to a point where the truth couldn’t be avoided any longer, because the inevitable can’t be postponed indefinitely. Ignorance is only bliss until the truth comes unapologetically crashing in.

He fucked you so relentlessly it scared you. The hands that had once held you so gently were pushing you into positions far past your comfortable range, his hips were thrusting hard and deep enough to bruise. He saw the tears that leaked from the corners of your eyes and called you pathetic; and just like that, you knew your Dave York was gone. Where to, you weren’t sure. But something in his roughness, in the way he wanted to hurt you, made you sure he was never coming back.

You pushed him off of you and told him to get the fuck out. For a moment–one flickering, horribly tension-fraught moment–you didn’t think he would. The most terrified you’d ever been in your life was when you looked into his dark eyes and saw nothing but violence.

For a moment, you didn’t know what he was going to do. And then he hastily pulled on his clothes and slammed the door shut behind him without a word.

You didn’t see him on your walk the next night, and the following night after that there was a U-Haul parked in front of his house. Part of you was relieved at the sight of boxes and furniture being lugged out of the front door into the box truck; another, more complicated part of you wanted to fall to your knees right there in the street and start screaming.

You felt his presence before you saw him–just behind you to the left, out of your field of view. You didn’t turn to look at him; you couldn’t stand to see his face when you asked, “Why?”

“There are worse ways to hurt you than leaving,” he murmured, low and deep. “If leaving is what I have to do to keep you safe, then I’m never fucking coming back.”

You turned at that, because what the fuck was that supposed to mean? What would he have to keep you safe from?

You saw so much sadness in his brown eyes that you nearly broke down sobbing. You knew right then that it was over. There was no begging him to stay, no changing his mind. You didn’t even really know if you actually wanted him to stay, at that point.

He walked away to help the movers lug a couch before you got a chance to say anything; no ‘I love you’, no ‘I’ll miss you’, not even a simple ‘goodbye’.

By morning his family was gone, him included. His house stood empty for two years with not a sign from him. Until tonight.

The living room lights cast a warm yellow glow over the front yard in the dark even through the obscurity of dusty window blinds. You’re tempted to peek through and see if you can tell what’s going on inside after standing on the stoop unacknowledged for a few minutes; just as you make the decision to snoop, the front door opens.

It’s him. It’s really fucking him. He hasn’t changed even the slightest bit. His brown hair is still cut short and neatly styled, his handsome face is impeccably shaved. His dark brown eyes are just like you remember them, from before; the hatred and violence they held those last few days isn’t there anymore.

He whispers your name, and then his eyes flash. “You’re still here.”

“Of course I am,” you reply, on guard. “This is my home.”

His fingers twitch on the doorknob, like he’s contemplating shutting you out. “I didn’t know anyone was still here. I wouldn’t have come back.”

“Why did you come back?” You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

His eyes shift for a moment, jaw set firmly. “It’s the only place I have left.”

He doesn’t have to put it any clearer than that for you to know that his wife isn’t in the picture anymore. You wonder what happened between them, but a selfish little part of you is triumphant at the fact that he came to you.

Except he didn’t, not really. He said himself that he didn’t think anyone was left. That he wouldn’t have come otherwise. Why wouldn’t he have come?

“You need to go,” he says firmly, moving to shut the door in your face. But your hand shoots out before you can really even contemplate it.

Now, you say what you wish you would’ve had the courage to say all those years ago. “I missed you, Dave.”

You can see his patience is waning–his hand flexes anxiously against the door but he doesn’t say anything quite yet, and you know his is your only chance for closure.

“You said, before you left, that you were protecting me by leaving. What do you have to protect me from?”

“Myself,” he growls. His eyes flash dangerously, the same way they did two years ago.

“What…”

“Each man kills the thing he loves, honey,” he murmurs, stepping closer. It feels like he’s towering over you now, looming ominously. You don’t remember him being this imposing before he left. “And I… I loved you.”

“I loved you, too,” you whisper. Hindsight is funny like that–your brain reveals in hindsight what your heart can’t reveal in the moment. “We can… we can make this work, Dave.”

You should be more hesitant. You should remember how scared of him you were at the end, how strange it is for him to show up here in the middle of the night all alone. You should wonder why he’s back here now, when everyone else is gone.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he growls, all the while moving closer to you as if you have a magnetism he can’t avoid. “I’ve changed.”

“I’m asking for a second chance,” you plead as you set your hands on his strong, solid chest. He’s so achingly close now, and yet he still won’t touch you. “I’ve changed too, I’m… I’m willing to make this work if you are.”

He licks his lips, dark eyes focused… on your neck? Why is he looking there of all places?

He notices that he’s been caught when his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze. He just stares at you for a moment, then two, so close that each breath you exhale mingles with his.

And then suddenly he’s leaning in. You let your eyes flutter shut, awaiting the sweet sensation of his lips on yours after so long; but it never comes. You wait, and you wait, and then you feel something puncture the side of your neck.

It’s sharp, and it hurts. Your eyes snap open and all you can see is Dave; his body curls around yours as he gulps eagerly from your punctured artery. A weak hand comes up to nudge his head halfheartedly–somewhere in the back of your mind, you delight in the softness of his hair between your fingers again after so long–but his arms wrap tightly around your waist to keep you in place and your weak resistance is futile.

He was right, you think as your vision blurs around the edges. You really didn’t have a clue what you were asking for.

➔ moodboard by @ozarkthedog

➔ beta: @futuraa-free and @mothandpidgeon (thank u so much my loves <3)

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

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#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #dave york one shot #the equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #cece writes

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nixoon-again · 29 days

Note

i’m so curious about hot potato but hedgehog

The situation goes from not funny to downright horrendous as Sonic's claustrophobia kicks in. The hedgehog all but starts clawing at the metal casing around him, the fact that he isn't given enough space to use his quills to cut through the material seems to point at some sort of targeted attack that's been set up specifically to make him lose all his bearings so his enemy can catch him off guard before an undeniable assassination attempt. There's no other reason someone will knowingly do this to him. Even then if there really isn't anyone with I'll intentions behind his current situation, the only other possibility that remains is that Sonic took a nap somewhere he shouldn't have again — except the hedgehog vividly remembers falling asleep on Tails’ couch in his lab in Central City and what could have possibly broken past the little fox's defences and taken the hedgehog away? Tails’ security systems were practically unbreakable, right there in the top three in the whole world. That kid is actively giving GUN a run for their money on the regular and yet somehow someone managed to snatch Sonic out of that level of security? Brain clouded with panic and an irresistible urge to bite through the metal, Sonic wonders just who he pissed off this time to be put in such a situation. (In a much more warm and open room, the perpetrator rests bundled up in soft blankets with a mug of hot chocolate — he sneezes before going back to the murder documentary playing on his Miles Electric.)

sonic doesn't know tails sold him for one (1) mint candy and 13 cents (delivery charges)

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #asks #wip #they are actually having fun here if you just ignore sonic 🫶

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acurlygirlamy1 · 4 months

Text

DIARY OF A SNOW SHOVELER:

Moved to North Dakota this fall. We heard that summers are fun and winter is beautiful. We think there is no more beautiful a place in the whole world!

December 8 - 6:00 PM It started to snow. The first snow of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like a Grandma Moses print. So romantic, we felt like newlyweds again. I love snow!

December 9 - We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there be a more lovely place in the whole world? Moving here was the best idea I've ever had! Shoveled for the first time in years and felt like a boy again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks.

This afternoon the snowplow came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again. What a perfect life!

December 12 - The sun has melted all our lovely snow. Such a disappointment! My neighbor tells me not to worry- we'll definitely have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says we'll have so much snow by the end of winter, that I'll never want to see snow again. I don't think that's possible. Bob is such a nice man, I'm glad he's our neighbor.

December 14 - Snow, lovely snow! 8 inches last night. The temperature dropped to -20. The cold makes everything sparkle so. The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. This is the life! The snowplow came back this afternoon and buried everything again. I didn't realize I would have to do quite this much shoveling, but I'll certainly get back in shape this way. I wish I wouldn't huff and puff so.

December 15 - 20 inches forecast. Sold my van and bought a 4x4 Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife's car and 2 extra shovels. Stocked the freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out. I think that's silly. We aren't in Alaska, after all.

December 16 - Ice storm this morning. Fell on my ass on the ice in the driveway putting down salt. Hurt like hell. The wife laughed for an hour, which I think was very cruel.

December 17 - Still way below freezing. Roads are too icy to go anywhere. Electricity was off for 5 hours. I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm. Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to irritate her. Guess I should've bought a wood stove, but won't admit it to her. God! I hate it when she's right. I can't believe I'm freezing to death in my own living room.

December 20 - Electricity's back on, but had another 14 inches of the damn stuff last night. More shoveling! Took all day. The damn snowplow came by twice. Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but. they said they're too busy playing hockey. I think they're lying. Called the only hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower and they're out. Might have another shipment in March. I think they're lying. Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he's lying.

December 22 - Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 more inches of the white shit fell today, and it's so cold, it probably won't melt till August. Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel and then I had to piss. By the time I got undressed, pissed and dressed again, I was too tired to shovel. Tried to hire Bob-who has a plow on his truck-for the rest of the winter, but he says he's too busy. I think the asshole is lying.

December 23 - Only 2 inches of snow today. And it warmed up to 0. The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What is she, nuts?!! Why didn't she tell me to do that a month ago. She says she did but I think she's lying.

December 24 - 6 inches - Snow packed so hard by snowplow, l broke the shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. If I ever catch the son of a bitch who drives that snow plow, I'll drag him through the snow by his balls and beat him to death with my broken shovel. I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling, and then he comes down the street...at a 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over where I've just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents...but I was too busy watching for the damn snowplow.

December 25 - Merry f---ing Christmas! 20 more inches of the damn slop tonight - snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil. God, I hate the snow! Then the snowplow driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she's a fricking idiot. If I have to watch "It's A Wonderful Life" one more time, I'm going to feed her through a chipper shredder.

December 26 - Still snowed in. Why the hell did I ever move here? It was all HER idea. She's really getting on my nerves.

December 27 - Temperature dropped to -30 and the pipes froze; plumber came after 14 hours of waiting for him, he only charged me $4,400 to replace all my pipes.

December 28 - Warmed up to above -20. Still snowed in. The BITCH is driving me crazy!!!

December 29 - 10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cave in. That's the silliest thing I ever heard. How dumb does he think I am?

December 30 - Roof caved in. I beat up the snow plow driver, and now he is suing me for a million dollars, not only for the beating I gave him, but also for trying to shove the broken snow shovel up his ass. The wife went home to her mother. Nine more inches predicted.

December 31 - I set fire to what's left of the house. No more shoveling.

January 8 - Feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me. Why am I tied to the bed ???

-Author Unknown

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friendly-neighborhood-imbecille · 2 years

Text

accidentally deleted this post so now I have to make it again, I’m sorry.

For all Danny could remember, everything has been about the portal.

He missed his class recorder concert. He was supposed to have a solo, his parents were busy with the portal. He buried the stray cat he had been taking care of alone. Jazz was at a friend’s house, his parents were busy with the portal. He had to walk to the elementary school for his elementary graduation. Only Jazz showed up, his parents were busy with the portal. He ran away, got lost, and was picked up by Tucker’s mom. She was the only one who’d pick up the phone, his parents were busy with the portal. He saved up and sold almost all his collectables so he could go to space camp. He never got to go, his parents were busy with the portal.

It was always a constant in his life, but now, that constant was gone. The portal was finished, and it didn’t work.

He guessed he should be happy. He’d tried multiple times before to destroy the thing, but he’d always been either too small and weak to do any real damage, or got cold feet and chickened out at the last minute. But now that it was actually broken he wished it wasn’t.

It was much better barely ever seeing his parents, but them being happy when he did see them, than seeing them miserable.

The portal was important to them, they had spent most of their lives on it, they cared about it more than anything else in the world, and it didn’t work.

And maybe it was his fault.

He lay in bed staring at the glow in the dark star stickers plastered across his ceiling. It had been a long day, and an even longer night. He had plans to have Sam and Tucker over tomorrow, but he’d probably have to cancel. He really didn’t want them to see him like this.

It was 1:30 in the morning, his parents had left three hours after the portal failed, he didn’t know where they were, they hadn’t told them. Jazz had left an hour later to spend the night at Spike’s house. This left him all alone. This would usually be nice. No sounds of tinkering in the lab, no mumbles coming from Jazz in the next room reading whatever book she was currently obsessed with, perfect conditions for a good night’s sleep. But he couldn’t sleep.

He had just been lying there for hours, the only noise in the house being a faint electrical buzzing that he wasn’t even sure was real. The only thing he could think of was the portal. What if it had all been his fault.

He had tried to destroy it, what if he had succeeded?

He lifted his blanket up and off of him and stood up. He walked through the hallway and down the stairs, careful not to step on any of the squeaky steps, despite the lack of anyone else in the house. He leapt over the small uncovered part of the hardwood floor, ran on his toes across the carpet of the living room over to the basement steps, then froze.

What if he had destroyed what his parents loved most?

He almost didn’t want to know. Almost wanted to run back upstairs, get back under the covers, and not tell anyone. Ever.

But he needed to know. He needed proof that it wasn’t him. He needed something else to be the reason. He couldn’t live with himself if it was his fault.

He stepped down the stairs to the lab. The concrete floor was cold, he walked on his tiptoes to avoid it. He walked past scrap metal and wires haphazardly thrown across the floor. His mom did that. She was angry and had almost ripped apart everything on the tables. He walked past a large dent in the wall. His dad did that. It was terrifying. He had never seen his dad hit something before.

He ripped his attention away from the chaos of the room and focused it on the portal. It seemed almost menacing. Cold metal gleaming in the dim light, almost like a blade. He walked closer to it. He had cut a few wires inside it last month in a desperate attempt for some attention, he couldn’t see them from here, he’d have to get closer.

He ran over to the jumpsuit rack and grabbed his. He carefully put it on over his shorts and t-shirt and ripped a sticker of his dad’s face off the front. His dad had probably added the sticker recently, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He was honestly surprised it still fit, he hadn’t worn it since the seventh grade, but it had been a bit baggy then.

He crept closer to the portal and examined the outside. Everything there seemed to be in order, then took a deep breath, and went in.

It was dark. Not too dark he couldn’t see clearly, but it would get darker the further he got. He couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding in on something he shouldn’t. This wasn’t his place, he didn’t belong, but he needed to know. He got to the middle of the portal and stopped. There was a large panel missing. His mom said that it wasn’t needed, they could put it on later after they tested it out. There were tons of wires, he put his gloved hand in and moved them around, looking for the wire he had cut.

Maybe it wasn’t even in this area. Maybe they had fixed it, maybe they had seen the wire and replaced it, but he had to be sure.

Suddenly he saw it, the cut wire. He could fix this. He just needed to fix this.

He ran out of the portal and opened every drawer and cabinet he could find until he found some duct tape. He just had to tape the wire back together and everything would be fixed. His parents would be happy. He ripped a large piece of the tape off with his teeth, ran back into the portal and found the wire again. He reached down to the bottom of the hole in the portal wall and searched until he found the other side of the wire.

He could fix this, he could be helpful to his parents for once and make them happy. And once he told them how he fixed it they’d love him so much for it.

He quickly put the tape on one end of the wire, added the other end, and wrapped it around. Now he just had to plug it in.

The end of the tunnel started to light up, everything around him started to crackle with electricity, a dull whirring noise kept getting louder and louder, and something in his head screamed at him to run.

The portal had never been unplugged.

He dropped the wire and ran towards the opening, he was almost there, he was going to make it. But then the green light turned blinding, all he could feel was pain. He screamed, and everything stopped.

—

The first thing that came back was his hearing. He could hear a faint electrical buzzing, like the sound of a dying lightbulb, or LED lights. Faint enough that most people wouldn’t notice it, but present enough that it was inescapable. There was also this deep rumbling hum. The closest thing he could compare it to would be the noise whales make, but that wasn’t quite it.

Then taste and smell came back. His mouth tasted different somehow, like the aftertaste of lemonade, or maybe one of those cherry limeade sodas. But metallic, like he had licked a battery. His surroundings also had that same citrusy metallic smell.

Then his feeling came back. His body ached with pain, but somehow it felt as if it was both there and not at the same time. His face was pressed against a cold, hard, rough, surface. He tried to move, but it was like he was paralyzed. A strange crackling filled the air, it felt like the static electricity he used to make by rubbing his stuffed animals against his hair, blankets and pajamas just to see the sparks. He used to think that he was generating more electricity for the house when he did that.

Then came sight. He went from seeing nothing, to seeing black. Every so often a green light pulsed behind his eyelids. He didn’t know what it was, didn’t know what it could be. Then slowly, he regained the ability to move.

At first he could only move his eyelids and fingers. The only thing he could see was the concrete floor lit by a faint green glow, but not long after, he was able to shakily lift himself up onto his knees. He looked around, he was in the lab. He remembered, the portal hadn’t worked. He had gone down to fix it and, he turned his head around for the first time since he had woken up to face the swirling green vortex. It had turned on. He had fixed it. He had been helpful.

He quickly scrambled to his feet to walk over to it. It was working, just like it was supposed to from the start. He had fixed everything. His parents would be so happy, everything was better now, everything was-

He looked down to the floor. There was an arm poking out of the portal, it looked like his arm, but that wasn’t possible, he was right here.

He looked down at his arm. It was different than he remembered. His glove was white, and the suit was black. He remembers it being the other way around. He looked down, his boots were also white, why were they white? Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

He looked back to the arm poking out of the portal. Something was telling him to leave it alone, to pretend it didn’t exist, but he needed to know what was going on. He knelt down on the floor, grabbed the wrist, pulled, and immediately dropped it and scrambled away when a charred face emerged from the portal. It was a corpse, there was a corpse in his parents’ lab wearing Fenton gear. He wanted to throw up, but there wasn’t anything in his stomach.

Why was there a dead body here? Did his parents kill someone and leave their body in the portal? No that wouldn’t make sense, he had been in the portal and he hadn’t seen it.

He had been in the portal. And that was his hazmat suit.

He slowly walked towards the portal, trying not to directly look at the charred flaking skin of the corpse’s face, and hesitantly grabbed its wrist again to pull it completely out of the portal.

It was the same size as him. Same suit, same boots, it was him, but if that was him, who was he?

He hesitantly walked over to the lab bathroom and tried to turn on the lights, but they didn’t work. The power must be out, but somehow he could see without them. He turned to look in the mirror and froze. It was his face, it was unmistakably his face, but it was different. His hair was white, his skin was purple, his eyes and freckles were glowing green, the same green as the portal. And he had fangs. He looked like a monster, like one of those ghosts his parents would tell stories about.

A ghost. He was dead, wasn’t he?

He couldn’t be a ghost, his parents hated ghosts. If they found out they’d destroy him, or worse, cut him open on an examination table.

He had to leave. He could just pretend that he hadn’t come back, he was dead and that was the end of it. He couldn’t let anyone know.

But if Jazz found out he was dead she’d be heartbroken. She’d blame herself.

He hesitantly walked back over to the body, trying desperately to not look at its open unseeing eyes. He needed to get rid of it. He couldn’t bury it in the yard, they’d find it, and the woods were too far away. He didn’t want to drag this thing around town just to hide it, people would see. He didn't even want to have to drag it out of the lab. Just the thought of touching it again made his skin crawl.

But what if he didn’t have to move it out of the lab. It was already right in front of the perfect hiding spot, all he needed to do was push it back in. He grabbed a broom from the corner of the room and used it to push the corpse back in. Slowly, bit by bit, the body disappeared. Suddenly, the force he was pushing against vanished completely, like it had fallen off of a ledge.

He dropped the broom, and walked up the stairs, trudged across the living room carpet, hesitated before walking across the uncarpeted hardwood floor, and pulled himself up the stairs. He entered his room, grabbed a few essentials, stuffed them in the big duffel bag he kept under his bed, put his phone in his pocket, and walked back downstairs.

His mind was blank as he left through the front door, he didn’t think about where he was going, he just went. After a while he found himself at Tucker’s house. He didn’t mean to come here. He debated on whether or not to talk to him, but decided against it. He didn’t want one of his best friends to see him like this. He looked like a monster.

He kept walking until he reached the forest near the edge of town. He decided to take a break from walking and sit down. What would everyone think when they came home and he wasn’t there? Who would notice first? Would they try to call him? Would they look for him? Would he ever be able to see them again? He wanted to talk to them, he wanted to see them, he didn’t want to leave.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his dad’s number. His mom almost never had her phone on her, but his Dad always did. It rang five times before it went to voicemail. His breathing became uneven. He hung up, and dialed again, it rang five more times before it went to voicemail. He was starting to shake now, why was he shaking? He hung up and dialed again. It went straight to voicemail. His Dad didn’t want to talk to him. Did he do something wrong? Was he angry with him?

He dialed his mom’s number, just in case she had her phone on her, it rang five times before going to voicemail. He hung up and dialed again, it went to voicemail after three rings.

She had declined the call. She hadn’t just turned off the phone, she saw he was calling her and declined it.

Why weren’t they picking up? Had they figured out what he had done? Did they know about the cut wire? Did they hate him for it?

But he had fixed it, he had been helpful, if they would just pick up the phone, he could tell them, and they’d be happy.

He dialed his mom’s number again. It rang and went to voicemail. He dialed again. It rang and went to voicemail. He dialed again. It went straight to voicemail. She had shut off her phone.

They didn’t want to hear from him. He couldn’t tell them, he couldn’t fix it.

Drops of glowing green liquid fell onto his phone and hands. He reached a hand up to feel his face, he was crying. He didn’t know what else to do. He needed to talk to his parents, he needed to hear their voices one last time, he needed-

Jazz! Jazz always picked up the phone. She wouldn’t ignore him. He shakily dialed Jazz’s number and held the phone up to his ear. It rang once, twice, three times, four, five, then went to voicemail. He hung up.

His breathing started to hitch, his eyes watered up more than they had in years. He started to hiccup out sobs. He dropped his phone and covered his mouth to try and stop it, he tried to stop it but he couldn’t.

His phone rang.

He scrambled to pick up the phone and answered it before looking at the caller id.

“Danny, what’s going on, are you okay? Sorry, I was asleep when the phone started ringing, and then it took me a bit to find it.”

He didn’t answer, the sobs were getting in the way.

“Danny? Are you okay?”

She sounded really worried.

He forced his voice to work. “Jazz, I fixed it.”

“What? Danny, what did you fix, what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath to calm his voice. “Please, Tell Mom and Dad that I fixed it, they don’t have to be angry at me anymore.”

There was a pause, like Jazz was trying to think of what to say. After a few seconds, she spoke, voice calm and soothing. “Danny, Mom and Dad aren’t angry at you, they’re just upset because the portal-”

“I was the reason it didn’t work, Jazz! I cut the wire, I ruined it, but it’s fixed now. Please don’t be angry at me.” His voice broke halfway through his exclamation.

Another pause. “Danny, I’m coming home right now.”

He started to panic, she couldn’t go home, she’d hang up once she started driving, she always did. “No, you don’t have to-”

“Yes I do.” She cut him off. “You’re obviously distressed and need help, I’m in the car right now, I’ll see you in five minutes.”

“Please don’t hang up.” He blurted out.

“Why?”

“I,” He thought for an excuse before just deciding to tell the truth. “I just want to talk to you.”

A pause, shorter than the others. “Okay.”

“What did you do at Spike’s house?”

If she heard the waver in his voice, she didn’t mention it. “We watched Legally Blonde and ate popcorn.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it was. Spike almost choked on a twizzler, I had to do the Heimlich maneuver on them.”

He sat there listening to every little insignificant detail like it was the most important thing in the world. How the movie was, how there was an entirely different meal made for her due to her food allergies, how the pullout couch Spike’s room had a squeaky spring. After all, this was probably the last time he’d ever hear her again.

“I’m almost home, Danny.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Danny, what’s going on?” Danny could hear the panic radiating off of her. He almost wanted to tell her everything, but nobody could know.

“I, I had to leave.”

“What do you mean you had to leave?” She sounded like she was about to have a panic attack.

“I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

“Danny wai-”

He hung up.

He just felt blank for a bit, like he was frozen. This was it. He was never going to see them again. All because of one stupid mistake, he’d be alone. Would his parents look for him once they noticed he was gone? Would they care?

He didn’t want them to be upset, he didn’t want to hurt them, but he wanted them to be sad he was gone. He wanted them to care enough to look for him, but some part of his mind told him that they probably wouldn’t.

The tears started up again, he didn’t try to stop them.

He never wanted this to happen. He never wanted to have to run away, to never be able to see his friends or family again, he never wanted to die.

He wished he was human again.

He jumped up as a spark of light appeared at his midsection, then another, then he was fully enveloped in a bright blinding light. He tried to run away from whatever was causing it, but he tripped over a root, then it disappeared.

He couldn’t see much clearly. A large green film covered everything, and when he closed his eyes the film turned purple. Like he had stared at the sun for too long. He propped himself up and waited for a few minutes for the film to go away. The rocks underneath his hand were sharp, so he lifted it.

Weren’t his hands supposed to be covered with gloves? He looked at his hand, but it was too dark to see more than the outline. He could use his phone as a light, he reached for his pocket, but it wasn’t there. He wasn’t wearing the jumpsuit anymore, instead he was wearing pajama shorts and an old t-shirt. Exactly what he had been wearing before he put on the jumpsuit.

He wasn’t glowing anymore.

He felt his teeth, one canine was longer and sharper than the other, but that was normal. They were nowhere near how sharp they had been earlier. He looked at his hand, trying to see if it was purple or not, but he still couldn’t quite see it. He looked around for a light source, any light source. There was probably a streetlight somewhere, he just had to get to the road. He grabbed his bag and started running. The rocks and pinecones at the forest floor hurt his feet, but he ignored it. He got to the road and ran until he saw a streetlight. He stood underneath it and looked at his hand.

It was human.

He was human.

He needed to go home.

He started running towards Fentonworks as fast as he could, he could barely feel his feet touch the ground, it was almost like he was flying, but he couldn’t focus on that. He could stay, he wasn’t going to be hunted down, he was human, he could forget any of this happened and stay living with his family. He just had to get home.

He got to the door sooner than he expected, he reached for the handle, then froze. He could hear some faint talking. It sounded like Jazz. Who was she talking to? Were Mom and Dad home?

“Yes, he’s kind of short, around 5 foot 3, black hair, tan skin, yes, blue eyes, they’re pretty big.”

He opened the door and walked in, Jazz was on the phone, she sounded really worried, almost like she was about to cry.

“No I don’t know what he was last wearing, but most of his shirts are space themed.”

He slowly closed the door and walked over to Jazz, tapping her on the shoulder.

“No, I’m not sure where he’d be, you could check the-” She turned around then dropped the phone immediately after seeing him and scooped him up off the ground in a bone crushing hug.

“Oh my god, Danny!” She set him down and gave him a look over. “Are you okay? Are you hurt, did something happen?”

“No, I’m fine.” He assured her. He wasn’t sure if that was right, he didn’t feel fine, but he felt so bad about making her so worried.

“Are you sure? You seemed really distressed in that phone call. I was really…” she trailed off for a second. “Please don’t do that again.”

“Okay.”

She gave him another look over before wrapping her arms around him in another hug. He hesitated a second before hugging her back. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

#danny phantom #fanfic #the portal accident #Corpse au #can be read as full ghost or not because it’s corpse au

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bnuuys-writing · 11 months

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CHAPTER TWO. OVERTURE. Phantom of The Opera x Twisted Wonderland

Here is chapter two for you guys! I hope you enjoy!!

Chapter One, Chapter Two(You are here!), Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Leona's Ending, Malleus' Ending

~Bnuuy Out!

The year is 1919, in France. Within a bustling city in the center of town stands a magnifique Opera House, its dazzling lights outside its carefully intricate carved walls tells a story of Regalty, Royalty, and an awe inspiring show promising to be played within, yet; the inside simply tells another story, begging to be read by the others within the towns history.

The echo of the tapping cane reverberated within the desolate walls of the opera house. Which stood so beautifully with glamour and shine that now holds cobwebs and dust as if it were trying to hide itself away from the world. Leona sat there in a chair, overall confused on how he had even arrived here. He held all of his memories intact but perhaps that was because he was a powerful mage? All he knew was that in his mind was Y/N.

I have to save Y/N.

“Alrighty then! Lot 665, a monkey playing the cymbals, dressed in persuasion robes with the heart of a barrel organ! It has been stated that this item has been found in the very catacombs of the opera house. Ladies and Gentleman, shall we start off the bidding with 15 francs?” An unknown man stated out, standing on top of a podium, looking out amongst the small crowd before him.

Leona’s hand raised up without him knowing. A grunt of disapproval ripped out from his chest as he saw a familiar faces that he would honestly rather forget. Lilia Vanrougue. Lilia raised up his hand as the bidding continued, only for Leona to raise up his hand once more, raising the bid again.

“Do I hear 35 francs…?” The auctioneer’s gaze looked over at the old bat who only seemed to smile cockily at Leona, before shaking his head no. That little bastard making the price higher than needed… The sound of a hammer echoed within the desolate theater as the music box was sold to Leona De Kingscholar. Clawed hands reached forward for the barrel organ monkey as he began to look over it slowly, a memory forcing up into his mind that most certainly did NOT belong to him.

A collectors piece, indeed… Every detail, exactly as they said… Will you still play when all the rest of us are dead?

Shaking his head out of his stupor, he let out an annoyed grunt as he shifted around. The auctioneer cleared his throat as he motioned to a certain hanging over something quite large within the spacious room. Slowly, the auction would start as he read over the paper within his hands.

“Lot 666, a chandelier in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair of a Phantom hiding within this opera house, a mystery quite never fully explained. With the newly invented electricity, we are hoping to frighten away any ghosts, with a bit of illumination… Gentleman!” Sparks of electricity began to flood the room as a once nicely candle lit chandelier, now solely powered by the new electricity, began to float up towards the sky as everything began to shift around them. Dust flew off the walls, cobwebs floated off as if they were never there before. Old paint flashed anew as the beautiful statues were shining as if they were just proudly polished. Leona and Lilia looked at each other before they both completely faded away from each other's existence. The Mission has started.

The year was now 1881, the opera house was busier than ever with rehearsals. Chatterings of different conversations being echoed throughout the plywood walls, ballerinas running up and down the stairs trying to collect all their items. Stone masons working hard on their next project. Costume designers sewing and taking measurements. Towels, blankets, things that needed to be air dried being hung up over the railings as three important figures swam through the current of workers.

“Y/N, Silver, hurry up! Otherwise we will be late for practice!” Sebek seethed out at the two of you, not wanting to face Lilia’s wrath during their ballet practice. Silver could only groan as he was tugged along by Sebek and you just laughed as the trio of you ran down the stairs. Sebek and Silver had recalled the mission once they had entered the opera house with the help of Lilia’s wise words.

Remember, we are trying to find Y/N. We are in a book. I have already located Malleus but he must remain hidden for now.

Taking deep breaths as you ran past the trio of eyes, something was already boiling behind them as they watched your figure join your colleagues of ballerinas, ready for practice. Lilia watched as Sebek and Silver returned to your sides, posted like good loyal knights, yet there was no need for that because of course! This is ballet, and to Sebek’s dismay and like as if he would ever admit to it… Ballet was hard.

To the open stage, the orchestra was loudly playing as others marched around what seemed to be a very painted up Vil. Of course, these potatoes could all learn something from him as they all continued to parade upon his outfit and rip it here and there. What they all needed was discipline and to move with grace, not march around as they were! But what can you do when all you work with are lousy drunks who most likely do not care for the mastery of Opera? Including poor Rook who was struggling with his accent.

“It is not Ro-ma. It is ROME.” The conductor had stopped once more to shout at Rook who could only smile and shake his head. “My many apologies monsieur, it is just quite hard to grasp the foundation of what play we are exactly playing… Perhaps we can go over it once more?” Rook asked out which only caused the conductor to sigh. Though, could you blame them? Y/N had spoken about musicals and plays and whoever this Shakespear was from their world but never really got too deep into them. Hannibal was one of them, and although all of them had come to realize that they were in your world, something about it screamed as if they were in the wrong century of when Y/N was originally from.

“Excuse me, good sir! I have an important announcement to make!” The manager spoke, coming onto the stage as Vil only sighed. Of course he would have an announcement right in the middle of rehearsals, if they only knew who he really was, there would be NO interrupting rehearsals. “I have wanted to say- All the rumors are true, I am retiring!” Vil rolled his eyes, he was certain everyone knew that their manager would be retiring soon but to be replaced by who? His violet colored hues trailed behind his now ex-manager only to freeze.

Of course it would be Azul and the Tweels.

“The opera house will now be under the management of Azul Ashengrotto and his companions Jade and Floyd Leech. After their business of conducting an underground business-”

“A club.” Azul interjected with a serene smile, causing others within the room to sweatdrop slightly.

“-As I was saying; They will be your new managers, so make sure to treat them with plenty of respect!” The man finished as he welcomed the trio to the front of him, perhaps trying to get out of the spotlight like a certain Crow back in NRC? Who knows.

“We are deeply honored to with by your side and we would love to introduce to you our new Patron, Leona De Kingscholar!” Azul stated out, perhaps with some grit between his words. Afterall, he didnt forget about what Leona had done to his precious contracts within their homeworld but in order to save Y/N from the book, they had to push past their differences and move forward.

The clicking of heels echoed within the open theater as a certain lion reached up beside the mer-people, a growl within his throat as he looked out towards the crowd. Of course they were all here already. Vil, Rook, Azul and the Tweels, and if he looked a bit closer; is that Lilia?

“It is an honor to meet you Sir Kingscholar.” Vil stated out, tearing Leona’s gaze back to focus on the pompous Pomefire dormleader. A hand was held out towards Leona’s face and a smug smirk was plastered all over Vil’s face. Huffing, Leona’s hand grasped Vil’s own and gently placed upon the decorated gold hand, a soft kiss.

“The pleasure is all mine.. Now, don't let me interrupt you anymore. Carry on. I shall be here tonight to celebrate in your victorious show.” With that, Leona turned on his tail quickly and began to walk through the corridor, passing you with Silver and Sebek glued to your side. Your eyes were glazed over with memory as you stared at him, hoping he would say hello as he passed you by. Yet, no such luck as he didn't even spare you a glance.

“He wouldn't recognize me…” You stated out softly to Sebek and Silver with a frown upon your face. Through all of Silver and Sebek’s pesterings, it would appear that you had lost all memory as you became such an important character within the book- perhaps it was due to your lack of magic ability? Whatever it may be, Silver and Sebek hoped it wouldn't last back home in their world where they would bring you back.

“He didn't see you.” Silver cooed out softly, comforting you slightly before Sebek scoffed.

“You do not need that mangy lion anyways! There are bigger and better, like Lord-” Before Sebek could finish, Lilia cleared his throat and motioned for the ballerinas to start their dance as the familiar flutes began to play. Both knights sighed as they jumped off away from you to start their dance while you joined in with the other ballerinas. Jumping over chains and dancing gracefully around them; Afterall, Hannibal is very important to the culture of Rome.

Though the trio of mers stared at you deeply as they chatted away with Lilia. Jade watched your every move while holding onto Floyd’s shoulder so he couldn't break away to squeeze you too tightly now, after all they didn't want to break the code lines of the book and be casted out, or even worse. Get stuck in there permanently.

“And who is that one? No relation I trust?” Azul pointed out to you, raising up an eyebrow as Lilia let out a small ‘fufu~’

“That is Y/N L/N. Orphaned at 7, and came to live and train here within the Opera dormitories since then… I also think of her as a daughter. Now gentleman, if you would be so kind just to stand off to the side.” Lilia pushed the trio off to the side only to watch his ballet dancers. As the singing continued, the orchestra played with such oomph that a certain irritated German voice could be heard amongst it all as a rip was heard.

“Rook! Do not step on me!” Vil shouted out at Rook who looked sheepish as he had taken a step in the wrong direction as Sebek had jumped a little too close to him. After that, all hell broke loose as Rook couldn't jump into his seat where the fake elephant had come in due to his large billowing and not to mention- heavy- outfit was weighing him down. Vil had gotten so frustrated that he broke character as he stormed through the hallway, screaming how he is going to quit and he is finished. Only for Azul and the Tweels (Not Floyd though, he wasn't in the mood for it.) to grovel for Vil to stay and sing.

“Isn't there a song in uhm… Act three of Hannibal that you can sing for us?” Azul asked out hesitantly, trying to remember the play for Y/N’s sake.

“Yes! There is! But SOMEBODY did NOT finish my costume!” Vil pointed out and looked towards the costume designers who looked away sheepishly only for Jade to cut in smoothly.

“If its alright with you, Vil, we would love a performance just for us.” Jade hummed out smoothly only for Vil to stop and thing about it. Rook cleared his throat and nodded towards Vil, as if saying quietly ‘do it for the story’ in which Vil nodded.

“If my managers command… Maestro?” Vil looked over at the conductor who only stiffened up under his gaze.

“If my diva commands!”

“I do.” With that, Rook went around shushing everyone as Vil went to the front of the stage, preparing his voice for quite a song. Once the whole auditorium was quiet to Vil’s shushing and Rook’s deathglare of ‘silence’, the piano began to softly play like stars within the night sky. Slowly, Vil’s voice came out strong with plenty of vibrato that left Floyd wincing and looking ever so displeased. Vil knew that this was the doing of the book for he would never sing an aria so… Absurd. Though nothing could prepare him for what came next.

Shackles and chains clattered as a wheel began to squeak very loudly as a whole stage set background fell right on top of Vil, Rook’s eyes turning the size of dinner plates as he rushed forward to collect Vil off of the ground and out from underneath the heavy tapestry of a background. Lilia could only sigh as his ballerinas were panicking while Silver and Sebek stood close to you in hopes of protecting you from whatever might come next towards you. Another screamfest from Vil and the new managers before the auditorium went silent as Vil, Rook and their entourage stormed off into the back.

“Here is a letter, the Opera ghost welcomes you into his opera house and hopes that you can still pay him his money. Monsieur Le Fevre used to give him twenty thousand francs a month.” Lilia spoke, nonchalant as he handed over a note to Azul who seemed absolutely mortified at the idea of having to pay a GHOST. Most certainly they are real, for they all have been to the Ramshackle. “He also states that you need to leave Box Five empty for his use.”

“HIS Opera house? And TWENTY THOUSAND FRANCS? Well that's just great! Who is going to sing for us now! There is no understudy for Vil Schoenheit!” Azul shouted out, furious that he is going to have to refund a whole house which is 1. A waste of a bunch of money, and 2. This shouldn't be how the story should be going! 3. NOW HE HAS TO DEAL WITH SOME OPERA GHOST?

“Y/N can sing it for you.” Silver’s nonchalant voice spoke up through the chaos only for Sebek and you to look at him in shock. Azul slowly turned to you and quirked up an eyebrow but Floyd was first to speak.

“A simple ballet chorus girl? Nehh~...” With a shake of his head at not calling you Shrimpy, why couldn't he just call you Shrimpy? Sebek took it as denial and was next to speak up for you.

“They’re very well trained!” Sebek barked out, standing up straight as you just look between the two of them as if they were going a second head on their shoulders. Wishing that they didn't say ANYTHING. Granted, yes. You were being trained by a wonderful master but… Was it worthy of singing in front of a whole audience?!

“Who taught you.” Jade was next to speak, smiling at you with one of his very placid smiles that could put anyone on edge. You were no different than the rest of course…

“I don't know his name, monsieur…” You whispered out, suddenly bashful as now all the eyes were locked onto your form, Lilia cleared his throat in hopes of you gaining your courage to speak more. Yet for when nothing came out from your mouth, he only sighed.

“Let them sing for you monsieur, they are very well taught.” Lilia spoke up and pushed you forward with his hand on the lower of your back as Floyd began to wave you forward to the center of the stage.

“Cmon now Shrim–... Y/N” Floyd seemed to be annoyed with the fact that he was still unable to call you by your nickname, huffing silently as you were tentative on reaching the front of the stage. You feel everyone's eyes upon you and an all too familiar gaze upon the back of your head. You know he is here.

Slowly, the piano began to play once more as you began to sing a few beats in. Floyd and Jade seemed serene while Azul seemed so shocked by the sound of your voice. Who knew that their precious little Prefect had a voice of a siren! An Angel?! His face must’ve turned a shade of pink as he watched you very closely. You could only turn to face Lilia, Sebek and Silver who all looked very proud of you as Lilia motioned you forward to the center of the stage.

With a flash of the light in front of everyone's eyes, the once empty house was now filled with a full audience listening to you sing so gracefully. Leona sat in his seat as he seemed pleased at hearing you sing, his tail flicking around happily as his eyes narrowed down upon your shining form, as if you were a star itself. Who knew their clumsy Prefect had so much grace, and with a voice of the tweeting birds of the savannah. Unbeknownst to them, a form lurked within the shadows, listening to your voice as he seemed pleased with himself at how far you've come under his wing. You looked as radiant as ever, perfect for the prize of his game that is about to be played.

Leona stood up, humming to himself how it's wonderful to finally see your face, not like he would ever mention how he had missed you but for once in his life, he was rushing to see you. At the end of the song, you received a standing ovation from the crowd, roses were being tossed up onto the stage for you as a certain spy was watching you from below before rushing outside to see their master of Vil and Rook. Upon hearing the standing ovation for your spectacular performance, Vil could only smirk and chuckle.

“Who knew our potato had it in them all this time.”

All the while, a certain eel was more than happy to shout out to you about how wonderful your performance was, and Azul was more than happy with the outcome and with the fact that they now had a new rising star who wasn't Vil for once.

Sebek and Silver were the ones who first went out to go searching for you after your performance and everyone had left the auditorium. Afterall, this was a party and You were the star! You should be celebrating! Walking through corridors and slinking through hallways with couples that were more than happy to mash their lips together in what seemed to be the most secluded hallway they could find, they stumbled upon you in a room lighting up candles.

“Y/N! There you are! We have been looking for you. We thought we told you that you should always stick by us!” Sebek shouted out loudly, making you jump and Silver sighed. “Can't you see they’re lighting up a memorial, be quiet Sebek.” Silver whispered out to his friend before looking back down at you who turned to smile at the two of them.

“It's alright you two… I was just letting my father know that tonight went well. After all, father once spoke of an angel who would teach me all these musical things. Now I see him in everything I do, and he comes and visits me at night, sings me songs to keep me company as I sleep.” You whispered out to the both of them as they took their places on either side of you, again like how a knight would be for their King of Briar Valley.

“Y/N… You must have been dreaming, stories like this can't come true.” Sebek states out softly as he takes your hand and helps you up. Granted, he would NEVER touch you back in Twisted Wonderland but with the guidance of the book's written story, he guided you up to your feet as Silver helped steady your balance within your heels.

“Y/N you’re talking in riddles, and it's not like you.” Silver whispered out as they both began to lead you out from the room filled with painted angels and more towards your room, though both Silver and Sebek could feel a presence around them that was all too familiar. A drunkard man that is about to lose this game of cat and mouse if he keeps pestering their precious Prefect. Once back inside your room, with you all settled down in front of your mirror, the two had left you alone with Lilia and stood guard outside of your room.

“He is pleased with you.” Lilia would speak out softly to you, eyes lingering on your form as your eyes glance down to the rose, still filled with thorns with a green ribbon tied around it that was just placed down to your hand. “Make sure to go to bed at a reasonable time tonight. You know how he is with your sleeping schedule, and you have a big day tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.” Lilia would softly squeeze your shoulders as he began to depart from the room only for a certain sneaky lion to squeeze past and intrude in.

“Little Y/N let their mind wander, not knowing of the hunter behind them.” Leona’s gruff voice would hum out, arms crossed with that smug smirk upon his face as he looked you up and down. Your eyes flickered up to his face within the mirror and a smile began to form upon your face at seeing your childhood best friend.

“No, they knew of the hunter stalking them, but what they couldnt comprehend is what it wanted.” You started out, swirling around to face him on your chair as you stood up.

“Am I fonder of dolls or of frocks, or possibly picnics in the attic?” Leona stated, walking closer to you to where he could smell you but couldn't just touch you yet.

“No, they said. Whatever is best, is when I'm asleep in my bed.” You finished out before giggling, pulling Leona in for a tight hug. Leona’s eyes closed shut as he squeezed you just as tight before pulling away with a roll of his eyes, dumb book making him do things he didn't want to do.

“You sang beautifully tonight. Why don't we go catch dinner together? Just you and me.” Leona stated out rashly and sighed, ears pinning down as his cheeks turned a bit red as he peeked one eye down to look at you. Your face said it all, you couldn't. Yet, he didn't care. “Get dressed, I will be back in five minutes. Don't deny that you want to go out and eat with me and I'm not asking. This is a demand, and you know I don't make many of those.” With that, Leona squeezed you slightly within his arms again before leaving.

“No wait, Leona!” You sighed as you heard the door shut with a loud click. As you turned around to face your bouquets of flowers lined against the wall, you shuffled out from your big poofy dress and into a more simple white linen one with a laced robe being tied around in hopes that you dear Angel of Music wouldn't notice your absence. Reaching towards the door handle, a loud voice boomed within the room that you knew all too well already.

“Insolent boy, this slave of Fashion! Basking in your glory! Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!” The angel hissed out, and you knew he was not happy with the outcome, and had already known your intentions of leaving for the evening.

“Angel, I hear you. Speak, I’ll listen… Stay by my side, guide me! Angel, my soul was weak… Forgive me- Enter at last, Master!’ You replied back out, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes at the thought of betraying you dear beloved Master. As for him? He had heard that term many times but he never wanted to hear it come from your mouth, though he was indeed flattered… As the candles died down with his presence, a few flickering lights of green began to spark in the room as if you had your own personal fireflies.

“Flattering child, you shall know me. See why in the shadow I hide. Look at your face in the mirror! I am there inside!” The voice continues as you slowly turn on your heels to look at your body length mirror. Inside showed your reflection until a very large apparition began to appear slowly within the lighting of the mirror. A man with jet black that turned into a soft blue that rested upon his shoulders, two black long horns upon his head and part of his face was covered in a mask. Was this truly an angel, more importantly… Your angel?

Slowly, your feet began to move towards the mirror, entranced with this man's form within your mirror as your hand stuck out slowly. Unbeknownst to you, Leona was in the middle of a scuffle between Silver and Sebek who were trying their best to protect you, as well as their master who was now making his move upon the impressionable you.

“Let me through! Let me see Y/N!” Leona roared out as he punched Silver, who grunted as Sebek took over and kicked Leona down. “Who is that voice in there! Y/N!!!” Leona roared out, throwing Sebek off of him at Silver, rushing up to the door as he jangled with the locked door. “Y/N!!!” He shouted out, continuing to fight the door as both Knights tore him away and continued to wrestle with him upon the ground.

“I am your angel of music… Come to me, Angel of Music…” He spoke out softly, leaving you entranced with his form as your hand reached through the mirror and with a hesitant skip of your heartbeat, your hand met with his gloved one as if a deal had just been struck right then and there.

You have met your Angel of Music.

#twisted wonderland #twst malleus #malleus x yuu #malleus x reader #malleus x mc #malleus draconia #malleus x reader x leona #twst leona #leona twisted wonderland #leona x reader #twisted wonderland leona #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twst lilia #silver vanrouge #diasomnia #twst silver #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

96 notes · View notes

floridaboiler · 5 months

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