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#i truly had no plan for the second one so i stumbled through and it just sort of.....happened
bnesszai · 13 days
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helloo hehe 🫶
kunichuuzai + “Those are my boyfriends.”
or skk + the word ‘black’
hihi<3
I decided to set this first one in my painterzai au:3
“Those are my boyfriends,” Dazai says, smiling wide.
Sigma rolls her eyes. “Yes, I'm aware. I'm pretty sure everyone with eyes is painfully aware, thank you.”
“But did you know that they're mine?”
Fighting down a smile, Sigma pinches Dazai's cheek. “You're annoying,” he says, “but I'm glad you're happy.”
Happiness is an odd thing for Dazai. It swirls around in their chest, weaving in and out of the spaces between overwhelming despair and numbness. Happiness never attaches to their ribs, but it stays, flowing in and out of their veins. Sometimes, when Chuuya and Kunikida look at Dazai like they're a sacred thing, the happiness stills, just for a moment.
It's warm and Dazai cradles it to his chest.
“Yeah,” they say after a bit. “I suppose I am.”
Sigma smiles. “Don't let them go.”
Dazai looks back across the gallery, watching Kunikida laugh and Chuuya laugh with an artist. Then, as if sensing Dazai's gaze, they both turn and give them Earth melting smiles.
Dazai has let go of many things in their life, refused to even reach out for many others. But those two, they think, those two are permanent.
“Never.”
*
And now to completely change the tone. Rip.
skk + black
It's pitch black when Chuuya wakes up.
Everything hurts. They haven't used corruption in a year, but his body doesn't forget how it felt to be torn apart. He needs a hot bath, but the idea of getting up is unbearable.
Outside, he can hear rain pounding against the pavement. Wind howls between buildings. It's a storm, and Chuuya can guess what will come next even before the flash of light blinds them.
Ice runs through his veins and Chuuya feels their heart pick up, slamming against their ribs in a desperate attempt to escape. And of course, Chuuya's headphones are in the kitchen, discarded on the counter from the last time they made dinner. And of course, it is 256am and so no one will be coming by, no one will be calling, and no one will distract him with video games.
Dazai used to.
At the thought, Chuuya clenches his jaw, hisses when pain shoots up to his skull.
On bad pain days, Dazai used to draw Chuuya a bath and carry him to it with minimal complaints. On stormy days, Dazai would break in and bait Chuuya with some sort of bet to play video games. The volume would be turned way too high, the windows would be blacked out, and Dazai would even through that awful, stink, black coat of his around Chuuya. If Chuuya fell asleep, he woke up with his head in Dazai's lap, Dazai's hair carding through his hair, and a light humming from the back of Dazai's throat.
It was the closest Chuuya ever felt to being a human.
Another bright flash, a loud rumbling. Chuuya throws a blanket over his head with a whimper. Dazai isn't here anymore. Double Black, they are still called, but only one of them remains.
Everything hurts, everything is either black or shocking, blinding white, and everything remains that way because Chuuya remains alone.
Chuuya wonders if the blackness of Dazai's soul finally consumed them. Chuuya wonders if it would creep in and swallow him whole, too
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readychilledwine · 3 months
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Hiii helloooo. Back with another request that popped into my brain if it interests you enough to write it into existence ✨ so Az lives in an apartment/condo in velaris that he rents from an old high fae lady who owns the building and she also lives there with her granddaughter (YN/reader/OC) who is def his mate but they dance around it for her sake (and her poor old grandmother’s lol) since she’s still young for a fae. Oh and idk why but I imagine Az having a cat that reader takes care of while he’s on missions. Once a week, without fail, Az has breakfast with the old lady and her granddaughter. If he’s going on an extended mission, he always lets them know he won’t make it and he tells them in person or sends his shadows with the message. One time, he gets severely injured before he’s able to send word that he won’t make it to breakfast. The old lady sends her granddaughter to the townhouse to look for Az and feyre or cassian answers the door and is completely baffled that a girl and her cat are asking around for the spymaster. Like “well he didn’t come for breakfast today and he ALWAYS comes for breakfast and grandma was worried and so was (insert cute cat name) and she wouldn’t stop yowling so I had to bring her to look for him too” reader is def an awkwardly endearing rambler. (And if the cat is buddies with his shadows that would be totally adorable too 🥹) and then maybe it ends off with her (gently) smacking azriel upside the head while he’s on his sickbed healing because how dare he not tell her and her grandma that he was going to get injured and miss their weekly breakfast 😡 feel free to change anything up if you end up writing it!!
The Breakfast Club
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Summary - After missing breakfast unexpectedly, a hidden relationship is revealed to Azriel's family, who can't tell if they're more surprised by you or his cat.
Warnings - mentions of injury, stray kitten mentioned, fluff
💙Peep the Azriel Masterlist here💙
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To say you were nervous as you approached the High Lord's townhouse was an understatement.
In the 4 all too short and unexpected years of knowing Azriel, the last of which had been spent as much more than just friends, he had never missed breakfast with you and your grandmother. And if he had, it had come with a note or prior notice.
He had not shown up today, breaking your grandma's heart as she had prepared his favorites. It had set worry into your heart, though. Worry you masked as the two of you ate in deafening silence.
You two had hidden the growing romance so well. You didn't want to ruin the illusion now and risk your grandmother becoming protective over your youth and, of course, his reputation and profession.
You held his black kitten closer to you, kissing her little white paws as she mewed softly. She had protested you leaving his apartment to look for him without her, wanting to live up to her name as you tucked her into the hooded jacket you had custom-made to carry the kitten.
The poor baby probably missed her owner, her constant companion, more than she could truly express. You were used to caring for her when he was gone, but he normally always left one or two shadows for her to play with, and today, they were gone.
You'd had a whole explanation planned, rehearsing it quietly on the walk here over and over, but it went out the window the second you opened your mouth. You rushed through the words, stumbling over them as you looked down and away from him. "EverysundayAzrielhasbreakfastwithmygrandmaandIbuthedidn'tshowuptodayandInjstwantedtoknow-"
You shook the feeling of dread building in your stomach and knocked. You would be lying if you said you were not scared when the High Lord himself answered his own door studying you like a textbook. "What can I help you with?"
Rhysand held a hand up to you, scenting the faint smell of cedar and night air that clung to you and smirking before masking it. "Breathe. Start over slower." He tilted your head up to him. "And look at me when you speak to me. You are not a mouse."
You took two deep breaths, cradling Dective Mittens closer. "My grandmother owns the apartment complex Azriel lives in," the High Lord's lip twitched, the final confirmation he needed. "And every Sunday, he had breakfast with us. The only time he doesn't, he lets us know with a shadow or a note or verbally before he leaves. He did not come today, and he was supposed to be back 3 days ago. I just wanted to know if you've heard from him?"
"You're the female he's been missing family brunch for." It wasn't a question. Just a statement. Rhysand kicked off the door frame. "Come inside. He's here. He's hurt, but he will be fine." He glared towards the small kitten in your arms. "And where did that come from?"
"Detective Mittens?" He nodded, continuing to glare. "Azriel's cat? You didn't know he had a cat? She got upset when I tried to leave her in his apartment, so I brought her with me so she'd stop crying and yowling."
Rhys pinched his noses, shoulders shaking as he chuckled. "And who named Detective Mittens?"
"Azriel? It was Detective Mittens or Princess Buttercup. She isn't a Buttercup."
His eyes were watering from laughter, shoulders fully shaking as he led you further into the house and up the stairs. He held his arms out, nodding towards the cat as he stepped in front of a room. "Stay behind me," the High lord entered with a casual grace, stopping a conversation between two deep voices. Azriel's and one you didn't know.
The black collar with a small piece of Azriel's siphon was barely visible among Mittens's long black fur. She finally freed herself, leaping into the bed and walking to lay on Azriel's chest. "How did you get here, baby?"
Mittens was immediately squirming and clawing, desperate to get to her owner and get the cuddles she had been missing. "Did you go outside and pick up a random cat, Rhysie?" A large illyrian male, Cassian, you realized, sat staring with a brow up. "Or did you steal someone's cat? It has a collar."
"Some pretty little thing was at the door. Dropped the cat off and then ran away."
A shadow had already found you, twirling into your hand and ripping you towards Azriel the best it could by itself. Soon, two more joined, then three more, then your whole arm was swallowed in darkness, pulling you to the side of the bed Cassian was not occupying. "Y/n," it came out as soft surprise, happiness underlying the tone. "Angel, what are you doing here?"
"It's Sunday." The answer hit him, and his head fell back, eyes shutting as Cassian and Rhys shared a look.
He tried to sit up, only to be stopped by Cassian's arms, guiding him back down as he winced in pain. "Angel, I'm so sorry. I-"
"Don't apologize for getting hurt," Cassian said gently. The general looked at you. "Breakfast girl?" You nodded. "One. Breakfast was mine and Azriel's thing first until you showed up," a playful glare went your way. "Two. We dropped the ball. He was hurt. Bad. And we knew he was seeing someone, but it's been kept so secret by a certain spymaster that we couldn't contact you."
"Should have just spoken to the complex owner," Rhys muttered under his breath.
You nodded. "And, will you be okay?"
Azriel was focused in Mittens, scratching her ears as she rolled over, exposing the fur of her tummy and waiting. The three of you stared in silence, watching as he cooed and baby spoke to her. Watching as a few tears slipped. "Missed you so much, my little baby. Aw, look at that belly. Y/n been doing the best job keeping it full and happy, huh?"
Rhys and Cassian both hid their smiles, the High Lord motioning for the general to leave the room. You sat on the bed, taking his free hand in yours, bringing it to your cheek and holding it there. "I was so worried."
Mittens moved to the window as if she suspected you two needed room, allowing you two alone time before she'd be back to cover Azriel in her love and warmth.
He wanted to sit up, to hold you close, but every slight movement of his core had nerves screaming in hot agony. He'd never mock Cass for being a bitch while hid guts were hanging out ever again. He settled for moving his hand to your neck, pulling you close and resting your foreheads together. "Im so sorry, y/n," he kissed your nose, eyes closing as yours did. "I got distracted, and it happened so fast I couldn't get word out."
Your hands came to rest on his bandaged chest. "What happened? You never get distracted." He smiled, a rare beautiful thong he hid from everyone but you.
"You accidently tugged the bond when you and Mittens were playing, and all I could think of was getting home to be with you two. Did you catch that stray?" He changed the subject, looking at you with hopeful eyes.
A small orange tabby had been roaming around the apartments. Short little fur "doing nothing," in Azriel's words, to protect it from the Night chill. Azriel has been smitten with it since it allowed him to feed him and get a few scratched in before a shop owner scared it away.
That was over a month ago, and you two had been playing a slow game of seduction with the kitten, praying to the cat distribution powers that they'd allow this little one to trust you both the way Mittens grew to.
"I did. He's in my apartment. Him and Mittens get along really well." As of hearing her name, a mass of black fur launched herself onto the bed, curling up on Azriel's leg that was closet to you and purring. "I named him Investigator Whiskers."
You watched Azriel melt, groaning with a smile at the matching name. You could feel through that string his growing happiness as the same family you two had accidentally made grew, too. "I love you," he whispered softly with no sign of the ice Rhys had so loudly accused him of having in his heart.
"I love you, too. I'm glad you're going to be okay." Rhys and Cassian came back in to you two resting your foreheads against each other again, eyes shut, heart beats synced in time.
It made it even more comical to them when Azriel thought nothing of your hand moving up his arm, rest in his hair before you pulled away, and smacked him. "Ow! Y/n! What the fuck!"
"That," you smirked as you caught his hand that came to playfully tug your hair, "is for worrying my grandma. She made your favorites! You broke her heart! She thinks you hate us!"
"I was hurt!"
"Excuses, excuses!" He pulled you into him, not caring if the good of you had an audience and kissed you deeply. "Mmmm, forgiven," you muttered when he pulled away.
Azriel sighed. "Rhys, can you go get grandma. I think we need to tell her some things. And have lunch."
"Lunch sounds nice," Cassian said as he took his seat and glared at you. "Breakfast theif."
"Boyfriend theif," you shot back.
The room turned into you and Cassian having a playful argument as Azriel watched, fingers scratching behind soft velvety ears. He looked at Rhys, eyes warm with joy and happiness as Rhys looked between you and Cassian, who had fallen together like a puzzle. I like her, Rhys said into his mind. Keep her.
That's the plan, Azriel replied.
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr
@elle4404
Azriel Taglist-
A/n-
Picture of my and baby daddy's kitten to pay the cat tax gods 💕
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bloodbruise · 1 month
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@jegulus-microfic | april 7: regret | 2,011 words | NSFW
sometimes your best friend's brother is so hot you just have to jerk off about it.
Fucked. 
That’s what James was—completely and irrevocably fucked.
He couldn't claim ignorance; he'd seen it coming from a mile away. The change had been gradual, an ever-present whisper he failed to quiet. The subtle shift from looking at Regulus and seeing Sirius’ younger brother to looking at him and seeing Regulus. His continued presence at his and Sirius’ place had casual conversation turning into inside jokes, quips and jabs traded back and forth–James loved it when Regulus was a little mean to him. It turned into movie nights and visits at Regulus' job. 
All of it was fuel to a slowly kindling fire.
So, really, he had no one else but himself to blame when he got burned. Scorched, actually. 
It was a casual favor–helping Regulus move because Sirius had gotten held up at work. It was supposed to be nothing, just helping out a friend, something he would do for anyone in his life. Something he did without a second thought because that was James’ Thing. But, he really should have thought it through. Because watching Regulus, who was usually so impeccably composed, now disheveled and glistening with sweat, was an exercise in restraint. James’ mind was in a tailspin, fixated on lithe muscles moving beneath skin, flush from exertion high on his cheeks, messy hair pushed back and curls barely controlled by a headband.
James had been so normal about it all, truly, given the circumstances. Silently commending himself on his raw unadulterated strength for not jumping Regulus right then and there– he was playing it so cool. But everything teetered on the edge of collapse when Regulus, busy trying to put his couch back together, asked James to fetch the other screwdriver from the box beside his bed. 
To James’ credit, there were a lot of boxes there, so he naturally went with the one closest to the headboard. And later, when Sirius chewed him out for wanting to fuck his younger brother, he would blame it on that fucking screwdriver. Because when he lifted the lid, the contents inside hit him like a physical blow. The room spun. He was going to fucking faint. 
Inside the box was... Christ. It was overwhelming. Toys, lots of them, lined up all pretty and careless and innocent. Like they weren't going to kill him right on the spot. His eyes caught on the purple one, how thick it was. His mind oscillated between stupor, awe, and undeniable arousal, only snapped back to reality by Regulus' voice, muffled from down the hall.
“James? Did you find it?” 
In a panic, he slammed the lid shut and scrambled for another box. “Uh-huh, yeah,” he called back, nodding to himself, still dazed. “Found it, found it.”
With the screwdriver finally in hand, James re-entered the living room, his cheeks flushed and a strained smile on his lips. He passed it over to Regulus and awkwardly clasped his hands in front of him, attempting to conceal the evident bulge in his pants. He had intended to stay, they had planned for dinner afterwards–Regulus’ treat for his help. But now, his thoughts were a vortex, endlessly spiraling around Regulus and those toys and–.  
Voice too high and a little thready, he hastily blurted, “Okay, we got all the boxes, right? Yeah, okay, all set,” thumb jerking towards the door, “I forgot- I actually have to go, yeah.” Nodding to himself. He was aware that he probably looked insane, but staying was not an option. Not when every thought was a hazard. So he just stumbled through a weak excuse, pointedly ignoring the puzzled look on Regulus’ face, and rushed home. His grip flexing hard on the steering wheel and music blasting the entire time, because he was sure if he let his mind wander he would veer off the side of the road and crash his car.
It was only in the safety of his own room that he allowed himself to unravel. He twists the doorknob, pulling on it to ensure that it’s locked. His mind going straight back to that box, to Regulus, and his imagination runs. 
Fully clothed, pants a mess–precum everywhere– he shoves them down. Just far enough so he can get a hand around himself, not even bothering to move to the bed. He knows the intimate details of what the inside of Regulus’ bedroom looks like. So there’s a crystal clear image that he can’t shake. Regulus, legs spread wide and fucking himself—his head thrown back, hips twitching up and opening so sweetly around a toy. There was something so erotic about the thought of Regulus coming home, maybe even from James’ place, and taking care of himself. Stuffing himself full until he was crying out and shaking with it.
Was it drawn out–slow? Did he take his time and open himself up with his fingers first? Or was he usually too worked up and eager to wait, just sinking down and reveling in the burn? Did he ever use a vibrator at the same time? It was delicious, the idea of Regulus being pleasure-drunk by his own hand. James knew if it was him, he would be insatiable, would force one more and another one please, baby out of Regulus until he was sobbing. James needed to see it, thought he might die without it. 
A whimper rips from his throat at the mere thought of it– picturing himself at the foot of Regulus’ bed, content to just watch, to be so good for him. His movements become more frantic, hand working over himself faster. He pulls up his shirt and bites down on the fabric, head falling back against the door. In his mind, he wonders if Regulus would chide him for being bad, when James would finally break and scramble over to him. If he would let out a noise of protest when he pushes Regulus’ hand away and takes over, gripping the base and fucking him. He imagines how he would react when James crowds into his space, licking into his mouth and swallowing down his moans.
James is close when he thinks about Regulus’ eyes half shut and rolling back, body arching against him. How he would feel under his palm if he dragged it down the plane of his chest, if he raked his fingers through the hair under his belly button. Fuck. The thought of what it would feel like to touch between his legs, feel him wet and warm and dripping on his fingers. He’s almost there, movements getting more urgent. He starts circling his thumb over his sensitive tip with every upstroke. Has to grab at his own throat to ground himself, squeezing for just a little pressure because his body is feeling so good that it's floating up, up, up.
When James finally breaks, its with a weak, breathless, “ah- fuck R- Reg.” He makes a mess of himself. Back arching off the door, coming in ropes across his chest and dripping sloppily over his hand. He stays there for a while, slumped against the door, twitching with aftershocks. It’s only after his breath returns to its regular pattern that he moves, grimacing slightly as he sheds the rest of his clothes in a crumpled heap.
Nevermind the guilt of jerking off to his best friend’s brother, his own friend–his mind was reeling. James had convinced himself that it would help, to get it out of his system and be done with it. Deep down, though, he knew that wasn't possible. He knew that indulging himself would only pull him deeper into his spiral of obsession with Regulus. It was a little fucked up, but he couldn't find it in himself to regret it.
Exhausted, he collapsed onto the bed, a groan escaping him. The images and thoughts of Regulus were still there, but they were shifting. Had he ever used them on anyone else? What would it be like if he used them on James?
Against the mattress, James let out a heady moan. His forehead was slick with sweat, hair clinging to his skin. He found himself rocking hips involuntarily, pushing his spent cock into the bed. God, would Regulus top him? Fuck him with his strap and tell him he takes him so well. Oh, would he make him suck on it too? The overstimulation from the lack of respite was deliciously painful. He bit down on the sheets, grinding against them as he reached out clumsily and fumbled for the lube in the bedside table.
This second time was just as desperate. Lube in hand, James coated his fingers. So messy–glistening on his hand the same way he imagined it would look after pulling it from Regulus’ cunt. He drew his knees up under himself, breath picking up again and chest heaving against the mattress. His glasses askew and head turned to the side, he was looking back as best as he could at where his fingers were circling his hole.
He eased one finger in. He didn't feel nearly full enough but there's a slight burn– a reminder that he hasn’t done this in so long. He wishes Regulus were here to stroke his cheek, his neck. For him to press down on where James’ hand is inside of himself and tell him, “You can take more baby, I know you can. Need it, hm?”
James is gasping with the thought, mouth open and drooling a bit. He can’t bring himself to care though. He briefly pulls his finger out, swiping hastily at his stomach where his cum hasn't dried and mixing it with the lube before he’s pushing back in, another alongside it. 
“Christ” he swears to himself. It’s a little clumsy, an awkward angle. His own fingers are a little too thick to move them fluently. He thinks it wouldn’t be like that with Regulus. In his mind, Regulus would work his fingers inside him with the same poise and deadly precision that he does everything else. He’d probably talk him through it too, breath hot against his ear as he teased James for being so needy, for wanting to be filled. It would have James on the edge in minutes, and that thought alone is so hot that James can't even feel shameful about it.
He shifts, pushing up on one arm and arches his back, so he can drive his fingers deeper. He slips in another finger. He’s so– so worked up, body so warm. Sweat beads on his neck, trailing down and pooling where his back curves. Both of his arms ache with the strain, but he’s too far gone to notice. Too caught up in the slide of his fingers, lost to the thought that even three of them were still not as thick as the purple toy in Regulus’ room. He’s pretty sure he’s making noise, he can't really tell though. Everything’s gone a bit fuzzy from the pleasure. 
He knows he’s loud when he comes though. He finds the spot that has him going weak, almost buckling the arm that's holding him up. It’s overwhelming, he focuses on a few hard presses of his fingers right there and he's coming. A broken sob wracking his body as he gives into it,  writhing against the feeling, ruining himself even more. He draws it out as long as he can, fingers moving relentlessly until his nerves sing with raw sensitivity. He slips them out before collapsing into the mattress, just breathing.
He can't help but laugh at himself-–thinks it's a little pathetic. That one accidental peek into a box has left him lying here, covered in his own sweat and spend. And yet, his mind is still running over the possibilities. A constant loop of Regulus and toys and straps. A low whine escapes him at the idea of going another round, his cock already twitching at the mere thought.
And through the haze of it all, the pleasure and the embarrassment and the Regulus, he can only make sense of one thing: 
He is so utterly fucked.
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xzaddyzanakinx · 14 days
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Thirteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Ghost is getting careless, Ghost is sick and tired of the way you make him go off script, post murder sex spree [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+ [ani wears a vulvodynia tshirt, this song is so vader coded; enjoy]
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DATE
1:27 am August 29th
After the initial shock of Ghost’s demands, you quickly realized he was serious in his request. He lunged at you, just to spook you into running because you’d stood frozen like a deer in the headlights.
If only you could’ve seen the absolutely feral grin on his face. His little doe had fawned.
You swung open the bedroom door and shut it behind you, instinctively holding onto the doorknob and using your body as a counterweight to keep the door shut while Ghost laughed and barely tugged at it. Each quick pull made you jolt forward and only proved further how scared you really should be, knowing he was pulling the door open with your full weight on it with just one arm.
If he was serious, really, truly, serious. You wouldn’t have a chance, he’d demolish you in minutes.
You made a decision and made it quickly that your best bet would be to run to the living room and loop around, back to the bedroom and lock him out. At least there was a window in there you could probably climb out of if you actually needed to. The bathroom would just be a death trap.
You hoped that if you let go just as he was opening the door he might stumble, so you tried exactly that. It didn’t work the way you planned, but it did give you a second or two advantage. Though he quickly made up the time after he recovered from pulling the door into his shoulder at full force.
“Ow.” He gritted through his teeth, flipping out the decorative butterfly knife in his right hand, rolling his shoulders back as his towering frame strode across the small living space toward you.
“Ghost what the hell are you doing?” You squealed, grabbing the nearest book to you on your shelf, a paperback romance novel, and chucked it at him.
“Oh no.” He gasped, knocking the book away from him, his gloved hand flying to the gaping maw of his mask. “You gave me a paper cut.”
He twirled his your knife and lunged forward to grab your arm.
“I just want to have some fun, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching you wiggle and squirm to get away from his firm one-handed grip. With a quick motion and a rip of fabric he sliced a hole in the side of Anakin’s t-shirt he’d made you wear.
“Oh my god! What- you could’ve cut me!” You screeched, smacking at his arm with your free hand.
“If I wanted to I would’ve.” He growled, letting go of your wrist and allowing you to stumble backwards.
“I don’t know what I did to make you mad but I’m sorry!” Your voice shook as you backed away from him, scrambling back toward the bookshelf.
“Doe, you didn’t make me angry.” He said, his filtered voice oddly soothing in comparison to the way he was aggressively closing in on you. “You made me hard.”
“And now I’m gonna fuck you like I should’ve out in that dirty alleyway.” He gritted out.
“You ruined it for me you know?” He grumbled kicking the paperback weapon from earlier out of his way.
“What?” You squeaked, “What do you mean? I thought-“
“Yeah, you thought.” He snarled, reaching forward to grab you by the front of your shirt. “That’s the problem.”
“I wanted-“ He huffed when you jolted away from him and grabbed a slightly heavier book off the shelf to hit him with. “Do it. See what happens.” He barked.
He produced a second knife from seemingly thin air, one second his left hand was empty and the next the silver flash of the blade caught your eye. You panicked, two sharpened blades in the hands of a madman did not bode well for your very near future. Choosing purely out of instinct you swung the book at him, hoping to hit him square in the face.
You were too slow, or maybe he was just too fast. Either way, the book connected with the knife in his left hand instead of hitting the mark you’d set out for. He snickered, seeing your frustration and surprise at having speared your own belonging on his blade, your expression quickly fading to a blank-pale faced shock.
His hand shot out in continuance of the fluid sideways stabbing motion. His knife, along with your book, sunk into the wall, getting pinned there until further notice. The drywall cracking from the force of the side of his fist driving in the blade as easily as a pushpin.
“Now, as I was saying,” he sighed, clapping the drywall dust from his leather gloves. He moved quickly to grab you by the hair and drag you to the couch. “You thought, and that ruined my fun.”
“I wanted to pin you down on the nasty pavement and fuck you hard like the useless cocksleeve that you are,” his teeth clenched tightly. “but no. You had to be you, didn’t even give me the chance to offer you a safe word.”
“You’re such a slut that you just let me do it with no fight.” He snorted. “You let me drag you down a dark alley and fuck you. You wanted it so bad you hardly questioned it at all.”
“If I wanted to fuck you nice and slow, if I wanted to give you a choice, real or not... I would’ve done it in that cozy little love nest.” He said angrily, turning your head in the direction of your bedroom and pointing with his rose handled blade.
“See, I’ve got this thing,” he grunted, stabbing his knife into the couch cushion and locking the handles in a fixed position so he use both hands. “you’ve probably heard of it.”
You wiggled and squirmed against his firm grip on your hair, each strand felt like it was ripping from your skull. You reached back and elbowed him in the ribs, making him take a sharp inhale.
“You stupid bitch.” He snapped, spinning you around and grabbing you right beneath your jaw. He squeezed tightly, lifting you up so that you were struggling to stand on your tiptoes.
“You gonna be mad if I smack you?” He asked, his voice low and gravely.
“Yes! What the fuck?” You coughed, your hands gripping his wrist in an effort to keep yourself from choking.
“Will you hate me though?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, a slightly more playful tone in his voice like he knew your answer.
You shook your head ‘no’, holding your breath while a fire lit in your lungs, your vision burning black around the edges. Finally he sat you flat on your feet, if you weren’t light headed before, you sure as hell were now. All the blood rushing back to where it belonged cause your body to momentarily malfunction.
Ghost kept you upright, letting you slump against him for a second before encasing the back of your neck in his firm leather grip, pulling you back far enough away from himself to deliver a rough *smack* to your cheek.
Your eyes flew open, suddenly more alert as he shocked your system back into working order. Plunging you back into dizziness when he threw you forward and bent you over the arm of the couch.
“Hey.” He said gruffly, crouching next to you and pushing your hair from your face. “I gave you a safe word.” He reminded you, “I’m not an ass. If you need to use it just say so, I’ll stop.”
“N-no.” You shook your head, your hands coming up to push your chest off the couch.
“No?” He chuckled. “Never thought I’d find me a girl who likes to get raped.”
“What!? I never said-“
“Nope, shut your fucking mouth.” He said quickly. Taking off his belt at cracking it over the backs of your thighs.
“Fuck!” You screamed, crying out into the couch cushions. “What was that for!?”
He snorted, whipping you with the hard and unforgiving leather again. A shiver running through him when you whimpered and squeezed your thighs together.
“I want you to fight me.” He leaned down, his gritty voice rumbling in his chest against his back. “I know you got it in you baby, you’re just as sick as I am. You’re just not ready to admit it yet.”
“No! No, I… that’s not something-“
“Before you embarrass yourself further,” he sighed, reaching beneath the boxers you wore, he ran his middle finger up your slit. “feel that?”
He was gloating, enjoying making you squirm uncomfortably from your own desires. Ghost wiped your arousal onto your cheek, leaving a slick trail in its wake that gave away how you really felt.
“My pretty pussy is telling on you Doe.” He chuckled. “Now be a good girl and tell me you got wet at the thought of me raping you on the couch you just fucked your boyfriend on. Tell me you wish you weren’t such a cockslut and desperate for dick so I could’ve raped you up against a fucking brick wall.”
“Ghost…” you whined, wiggling to get away from him, but his full body weight was pinning you in place. “Fine!”
“Fine, okay? Yes!” You grumbled, shooting him a glare over your shoulder as he stood up.
“There we go.” He chuckled, “It’s okay princess, I know you have trouble understanding big words.” He taunted.
“Listening, silence, obeying, submitting.” He cooed, looping his belt around your neck and tugging it like a leash. “Very big words for a very stupid whore.”
He took the knife from the couch cushion and brought the flat side of the cool steel to the burning blush of your cheek, lightly scraping the tip across the apple of your cheek and the delicate skin beneath your eye.
“Getting me a fresh kill of venison for dinner tonight baby.” He chuckled, you envisioned a devilish grin, full lips curved upward.
“Maybe you ought to bite down on this.” He said, smacking you with the tail end of the black leather belt before putting it in your mouth for you. “Hate for you to fuck up those pearly whites.”
He grabbed the collar of your shirt, stabbing the knife through the fabric and ripping a hole down the short sleeve. The blade never came close to your skin but the motion was so quick that you felt a rush of air following behind it that may as well have been just as sharp.
You reached back to smack at his hand, spitting out the leather to scowl and yell at him.
“What is your problem today!? I like this shirt!” You kicked at his shin, connecting your heel to the bone in his leg.
“Goddamnit!” He growled, yanking you up by your leash and holding the tip of the knife to the vulnerable flesh above your Adam’s apple.
“That’s better.” He moaned… he moaned. “Fuck, you feel me Doe?” He asked, pressing his cock of steel against your ass.
You answered with a choked ‘uh huh’, trying not to turn blue in the face from the thick leather necklace he’d given you. He removed the knife and dropped the leash, your hands immediately going to claw at it while you coughed.
“Don’t.” He barked, tugging your hair to get your attention.
“I’ll tell you my ‘problem’.” He growled, using his hands to rip the fabric further, exposing your left shoulder blade.
“My bitch.” He snapped, “fucked her boyfriend on this couch. Right in front of me.”
He brought the knife back down to the fabric and this time he allowed the tip to pierce the skin ever so slightly, letting a bead of blood bubble up on your smooth skin as you cried out in a sharp yelp. Lifting the knife he cut another hole in the shirt, repeating the process until it was less than a rag.
“I’m sorry okay?” You yelled, trying to turn yourself over onto your back, hoping that even if it was an awkward angle that maybe you could get a punch in. If he wanted you to fight, you sure as hell were going to.
“What am I supposed to do? Not fuck him?” You shouted, twisting in his grasp until you were able to push against his chest with one forearm.
“He loves you!” Ghost shouted back and you felt your face fall. “Do you- you love him?” He asked, changing the grip of the knife in his hand to prepare for downward strike.
“Wait! Wait- stop!” You squealed, kicking and squirming away from him.
“Ghost! Stop it. Please!” You whined, your voice getting high pitched and squeaky.
“Tell me.” He barked, dragging you down to the coffee table and forcing you down on it, he kneeled with one knee keeping you pinned there, his other foot firmly on the ground.
“No! I’m not-“ you shouted, thrashing around and landing a solid punch to his stomach. “I won’t tell you that!”
He groaned, the sensitive area of his abdomen felt a dull but consistent throbbing. No time to congratulate you on knocking the wind out of a grown man though, he had to get right back to business.
“You won’t?” He laughed, taking the knife and gliding the flat side over the tender flesh of your inner thigh, quickly jerking his wrist and leaving a thin line of red behind.
You swore you saw him physically shudder at the sight of your blood, you are certain however, that you saw him palm his cock.
“Why don’t you wanna tell me?” He asked, his tone sounding cheeky disguised as menacing.
Ghost ripped through the seam of the boxers you wore, pulling them off and exposing your his pussy for his eyes to feast on.
“It’s not your business!” You snapped back and immediately felt the punishment inflicted on your most sensitive area. His gloved hand smacking your pussy with a wet *clap* that drew a scream from deep within the depths of your chest.
“Like hell it is!” He yelled back, barely controlled rage was beginning to ooze from his eyes behind his mask.
“Do you love him?” He repeated, smacking your clit and sending a sharp jolt from your head to your toes while you gritted your teeth and dug your nails into your palms.
“Fucking whore.” He groaned, looking down at your quivering legs and dripping cunt as a new wave of arousal drenched your pussy.
“You don’t have to tell me you love this.” He grumbled, “I can see it.”
You felt something hard and cool circling your entrance, the temperature contrast causing you to gasp and Ghost took that as the perfect opportunity to slide the twin handles of his knife deep into your cunt. His leather glove encased the sharpness of the blade, but that didn’t stop the streak of pure fear that flooded your senses.
The panic was slowly replaced with a new kind of pleasure, one that was dull and curling. Tugging at the muscles encasing your most intimate organs, as if he were trying to ‘cut’ his way into your womb and stake his claim before Anakin could.
It was embarrassing the way you so quickly switched up your attitude. Formerly angry and mouthy, now your brain was too muddled to feel anything but submissive. Ghost was behind you, filming the filthy act with the flash on, acting as though he might suffer a heart attack before he could make you cum. His filming hand was shaky and his chest was heaving in an uneven rhythm.
“Fuck. You’re- I...” He breathed out, “Gods, what the fuck have you done to me?” He asked in a higher pitched voice that almost dropped out of the voice modification.
“C-can’t even stick to my own plans, y-you just…” he grunted, withdrawing the knife handles, watching your cunt clench around them as if trying to suck them back inside.
“Don’t you move, you hear me?” He barked, kneeing you in the side when you didn’t answer him.
“Ow! Fine!” You snapped back at him, trying to turn your head to look at him behind you when his foot came up and gently flexed forward to push your head back to the side.
“You wanna see what I’m doing?” He asked, not waiting for you to answer as he walked in from of where you laid, crouching down and resting his elbows on his knees lazily.
He pinched the knife by the blade between his forefinger, middle and thumb to waggle it in your face. He chuckled at your reaction to seeing your creamy juices coating the handles. He lifted the chin of his mask up slightly, still being careful not to show the slightest sliver of skin as he brought the handles to his lips and sucked them clean. His groan of approval came out distorted, not quite modified, not quite natural.
“Shit.” You whispered, resting your forehead on the cool wood of the coffee table.
“Alright.” He stood up. “Listen, listen good okay?”
You nodded, “Yes Sir.”
“That’s more like it.” He laughed, “Get your ass over there and bend over like I had you before.”
He pointed to the couch with one hand and absentmindedly twirled and flipped the knife in his other while he watched you do as he asked.
“I’m going to do what I want. For as long as I want.” He said plainly. “This isn’t about you. This is about me.”
“Do you understand?” He asked in a tight, clipped sentence.
“Yes Sir.”
“If you want to cum, do it yourself.” He grumbled, “better bite down on that belt baby.”
He stalked over to you and pushed his jeans down around his knees and pulled out his angry red tipped cock. Without hesitation, with no forethought, he plunged himself deep into your cunt and started off with a deep and hard pace. It might’ve been pleasurable had he not decided he’d try to fuck your guts.
He, nor had anyone else, ever pushed so deeply past your folds. Yes he’d kissed your cervix with his cockhead before, so had Anakin. But this? This was beyond that.
In his right hand he gripped your hair, using it as leverage while you futilely tried to stop yourself from jostling around so much by holding onto the backrest of the couch with one hand and the front end with the other.
It was quite useless in Ghost’s opinion, he laughed as he watched you struggle. Each thrust was so forceful that by the end of this brutal punishment you believed he’d have rearranged your living room furniture. The couch scraping across the floor inch by inch.
“Fuck.” He grunted. “I fucking needed this.” He breathed out, his upper body wracked with a shudder as he moaned loudly.
“Perfect little painslut.” Ghost gritted out, you imagined from the way the words left his lips he might need the belt between your teeth more than you did.
“I could fuck this hole- fuck it till it’s raw and sore and bleeding.” He groaned, “And even then, I wouldn’t be finished with you.”
“Shit-“ he gasped, leaning forward he put you in a headlock, his muscles constricted around your throat.
Ghost rested his forehead against the back of your head, looking down your curved back to see your ass rippling with each slap of skin on skin.
“Gonna fuck my cum so deep inside you,” Ghost’s hips stuttered. “so damn deep that stupid little pill will be useless.” He barked out the last part, the true aggression in his voice sent a shiver through you that made a cold sweat break out on the back of your neck.
“Hmph… oh damnit.” He shuddered, slowing down for just a moment to savor the high he felt from feeling your cunt milking him dry.
“You keep moaning like that and your boy across the hall will hear you.” He chuckled, releasing you from the headlock and pushing down on the small of your back to keep you in place, hearing the swish and click of him closing the rose handled knife, feeling it pressed against your hip bone as he held on.
“S-slow please.” You choked out while drooling down the belt between your teeth, feeling as though he might split you in half if he carried on this way.
“I told you to lay here and take it didn’t I?” He grunted, smacking your ass punishment.
“My pussy. My rules.” He barked.
“W-what?” You moaned out, trying to focus your mind on those words, rather than the way he sped up and stole your breath.
“Christ, you’re stupid.” he muttered to himself.
“Shut up, I don’t want to hear you speak unless it’s your safe word.” He growled, shoving your head down into the couch cushions.
Using quick shallow strokes he leaned back to change the angle slightly, making him choke out a half sob at the way your cunt gripped him. His hand left your hip again to flick out the knife blade and drag the cold steel down your spine. He stopped halfway and veered off to the left, digging the sharpened edge of the blade into the thin skin stretched over your ribs.
“Holy-“ you chomped down on the leather belt in your mouth so hard that it squeaked.
“So fuckin’ pretty.” He breathed out, for the first time quiet enough that his modifier didn’t catch it… and neither did you.
“You liked that didn’t you?” His chest rumbling as he spoke. “I felt you squeezing me.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he thinly smeared the blood in a line across your back with the flat side of the blade until he found a suitable spot for a slight nick that had you jolting in surprise.
“Nasty girl.” He chuckled, “you like being fucked dumb and sliced up?”
“Uh huh.” You whimpered, gripping the couch cushions while Ghost leaned back to watch his cock plunging hard and fast into your pussy.
Creamy white cum and your slick coated the base of his cock, he desperately tried to hold himself back from another orgasm but it was damn near impossible when you had just openly admitted to liking his blade on your skin.
Your right ass cheek seemed the best place to cut next, he wanted to feel the warmth of your life dripping from the wound and down his thigh. He wanted to stain his body red in hopes of forming a blood bond, could he convince you to try that?
A surprisingly throaty moan left your lips and tumbled out in a long release of breath, his blade carving a diagonal line that leaked deep ichor down your beautiful skin. The sight of it being smeared and splattered with each piston of his hips had him buckling at the knees.
“Oh my-“ Ghost moaned, his knife clattering to the floor as he grabbed both your hips, purposely spreading the gorgeous red liquid across your skin as he went. “Didn’t think you could get any prettier.” He whispered in a hoarse voice.
He tightened his grip and listened to the squelch and slap of his cock bullying your insides, to the sweet sounds leaving your lips. He basked in the warm drip of your blood and the feeling of your pussy wrapped lovingly around him.
It was all so much. Too much.
With a few more brutal thrusts he came hard, his breath being stolen from his lungs as he shot his load into your depths.
“Fuck yes.” He gritted out, needing some kind of extra outlet for the intense adrenaline and endorphin rush he was experiencing, he punched the wall beside him without a second thought, denting the dry wall and smearing blood. “Hell fuckin’ yes baby.”
“Ghost!” You gasped and flinched at the *crack* of his fist making contact with the wall, “Can you ju-“
“Face down and close your fucking eyes,” he growled, shoving his cock back in his pants and tugging his jeans up. He saw you begin to part your lips and he interrupted. “that wasn’t a question goddamnit!”
You obeyed, closing your eyes and pressing your face into the couch cushions, hearing rustling coming from behind you. Ghost tossed his mask on the coffee table and took off his sweatshirt and tshirt, scrunching the shirt to create a makeshift blindfold, there was no time to go to your room and get the nice pretty silk handkerchief he’d bought for this purpose exactly. He needed this now.
He slipped it over you head and tightened it, then you felt the weight of his body push down on the couch cushion beside you, his still-gloved hands grabbing you by the shoulders and manhandling you over to sit sideways in his lap.
“What are- oh my god.” You gasped quietly feeling his bare skin for the first time, leather gloves guided you out of what was left of your shirt.
“Gh-“ You wanted to know why. Why was he doing this? Why now? But he shut you up by pulling you flush against his chest and descending upon your mouth.
He kissed you like his life depended on it. He kissed you like death when he lifts your soul from your lips. Ghost kissed you like you were the one who was consuming him. It was messy, desperate, and horribly quiet. The only noises being that of your lips and tongue clashing together and the sound of your mixed heavy breathing.
He was maskless. He couldn’t speak, he didn’t even want to let loose a single moan. So you did, you made enough noise for the both of you. Breathless gasps and whiny ‘mhhhhmm’s pierced his skull and wormed their way into his brain to take up permanent residency.
He had a tongue piercing… unexpected but definitely not unwanted. The metallic clicking was hypnotic in a way, tongues dueling carelessly between the two of you, so eager to taste more, to feel more. You know now that the strange, smooth thing that had accompanied his tongue while he had licked at your folds to wake you up, was the same jewelry that ran across the roof of your mouth while you felt up every square inch of bare skin on his body.
You never imagined that flesh could be such a sexy thing. Of course, it’s nice to look at on the body of someone you’re attracted to. Though feeling the flesh of a man who’d deprived you of seeing it, touching it; it was better than any drug on the market. With your brain fuzzy and addled with repeating thoughts of Ghost, he only made it worse by bringing your hand down to feel his half hard cock.
He had explored you in endless ways, countless times and now he was finally giving you the opportunity to do just alittle bit of the same for him. It didn’t last long however. Soon enough he was back to the domineering presence you’d come to know.
Slower this time, more carefully, he laid you back down on your stomach on the couch. Ghost pulled both your palms up to your ears to encourage you to create a sound barrier between you and whatever it was that he was about to do.
His tender lips caressing your back in feathery kisses, gentle and loving in a way you’d never received from Ghost before. His lips then made their way to your still trickling wounds, licking up the blood around the nick mark, a simple and tiny cut that was easily cleaned up. The longer, deeper wound across your ribs prompted him to get down on his knees in front of the couch.
Ghost leaned forward and licked the length of the bloody split in your flesh. A deep, rumbling moan left his unashamed lips. He was so unashamed in fact, that he found himself instantly rock hard again.
That just wouldn’t do. This is about him after all.
So he pulled himself free once more and spit a mixture of your blood and his saliva into his glove, setting to work on his throbbing and greedy cock. As he pumped his shaft his lips sucked and pulled at the wounded skin on your side, draining it of blood only to pull back and watch the pretty red reappear.
“That stings!” you whined as you pushed his head away.
A puff of air from his nose was your only response before he swatted your hand away and returned it to your ear. He did listen though, choosing to gently lap it up until the flow stopped almost completely.
Languidly stroking himself he held his breath for a moment, afraid he might let out a whimper more embarrassing than he ever had before. He moved behind you once more and licked up the blood from the last cut he’d made. He lapped up the last trickles of blood from your soft skin and kneeled behind you. Tapping your hip he signaled you to arch your back and lift up so he could get a better view of your poor abused cunt.
The pink and puffy folds looked even more enticing as he spit a fat glob of your bloody mixture at your center.
“Can’t… Ghost please.” You whined, your body sore and aching from overuse. “No more, I can’t.”
There was no verbal answer. Ghost ignored your pleas and left them unpunished, repositioning himself at your sopping wet hole. He easily slid in, letting out a shaky breath at the feel of your heated gummy walls. Slowly he rocked his hips into you, gently as though he were trying to soothe you after all the rough treatment.
You let yourself relax and accept his tender touches and unspoken apology. You were shaking from exhaustion, your mind too blank to do anything other than breathe and feel the pleasure of his cock moving inside you. With your ears still covered Ghost took the opportunity to tell you something that he’d been terrified of doing.
“My little doe.” He whispered as quietly as he could, “It’s me. It’s Anakin.”
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Diary Entry: August 29th
Honestly doll. I don’t know how you survived yesterday, if my dick hurts… I can only imagine how your poor little pussy feels.
You handled it so well. Taking inch after inch, over and over again for me. All. Damn. Day.
The best part? You loved every second of it just as much as I knew you would. You loved the rough way I fucked you as myself. The loving way I made you mine.
But the way you took Ghost… after tucking away that little piece of Anakin that lives in him, (the bit that won’t fucking stick to the goddamn plan because you’re so… there’s not even a word for it. You know what I mean though.) I got to do what I needed.
Damn I desperately needed it. Don’t get me wrong little doe, I love regular sex with you. You know, the normal kind of kinky. A bit of hair pulling, some spanking, a little spit, the baby steps to the bigger shit.
The kind of kinky last night is the kind of shit that would get me committed if my mother found out about it. But is it really my fault that you’re so fuckable? No. It’s not. It’s not my fault that your pussy just so happens to fit the handles of my knife. It’s not my fault that you liked it either.
You can’t even be mad, so don’t go pretending you are next time I see you as Ghost. You can’t be mad because you leaked that sweet pussy nectar down my cock for two hours and 13 minutes, last night. Never heard the safe word and I’m not convinced that I will ever hear it.
You freaky bitch.
If I wasn’t already as depraved as I am, I’d be a bit concerned. You really tried your best to fight me, you tried your best to listen, you put in the effort. But your tiny little brain can only handle so much cock before it turns to mush. That’s my favorite, when I feel you start to relax, feel your breath change, see those pretty eyes go hazy. My perfect sex doll.
I like it when you go limp.
You know what I really liked about last night? I could feel the exact moment that I pushed you past a ledge you’d never even seen coming on the horizons of your imagination. You started to *shake*. You were limp and shaking beneath me, so exhausted you couldn’t muster up the strength to hold yourself up anymore. So drained that you couldn’t even moan correctly anymore.
And you still let me keep fucking you.
I can officially say that I have fucked you awake, I have fucked you in your sleep and I have fucked you to sleep.
I joked about it as myself with you, made you take your meds early and everything, I held you in my arms and let you wean yourself off my fingers and fall into dreamland.
But Ghost was relentless in his efforts to make you go unconscious via dick. I decided I earned a little treat for that. I haven’t decided what it will be yet but I’ll make it good. How many men can say that they’ve lovingly fucked someone into unconsciousness?
Oh! Just me? Nice.
So, you know I love the way your pussy tastes, but let me tell you something I never thought would leave my lips. I found something that is almost a tie for first place.
You bleed so beautifully. It’s truly a spectacle to behold, the crimson just compliments your skin so well. Next time… I’m taking off my gloves. I need to feel it in my hands, that slippery warmth that gives you the radiant life you live. That’s the closest I’ll ever get to holding your soul.
The coppery sweetness was more delicious that the finest wine that money can buy. I don’t give a shit if it’s got notes of birchwood and bullshit. Nothing can compare.
I get it now, the whole thing with people thinking vampires are sexy. What could be hotter than draining the life flowing through the veins of the one you love? What could top that ego boost from the trust you placed in me when I put that blade against your skin? I held the key to your existence in that moment, you’d be gone if I had stuck the blade in and twisted it to unlock death’s door.
But let’s not even think of that, I’d die before I ever let you.
Let’s focus on how rude it is that our blood types are not the same. I would’ve signed myself up for phlebotomy schooling if we shared blood types. Give myself a weekly transfusion. Humane and more socially acceptable vampirism.
Oh well, I prefer to taste it anyway.
It’s like a savory type of chocolate. You know those molten lava cakes? That’s what it’s like to cut into you and have a bite.
P.s. It was so fucking cute how you reacted to my bare skin and kisses. I used to be the one on the verge of collapse at every slight touch, seems like we’ve switched places.
P.p.s. I will be replacing your book and fixing your walls. I’m not sure what came over me when I punched the wall, that was like very uncalled for. Oops.
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DATE
August 29th
When you awoke after your night of… activities, you were sore and tired in a way you hadn’t ever been before. Like the will to stand on your own two feet had been forcibly taken from you. As much as you wanted to get up and be productive, the ache between your legs refused to allow you any relief from the discomfort you felt. You needed to go to the hardware store and find something to fix the walls before Anakin came over later.
It would be difficult enough to come up with a cover story for the cuts across your back, but impossible to give a reason for the cracked drywall and the knife blade shaped slit in the opposite side. Once you finally gathered up enough determination to brave the wobble of your knees you stood up and exited your bedroom.
Ghost was too busy chatting, flicking the end of Boogie’s tail while he waited for your coffee to brew, to notice you’d waddled out of your bed to go to the bathroom. You could barely make out the faint white of his mask in the dim, curtain-blocked, morning light of the kitchenette, out of instinct you flipped the light switch and screeched in surprise.
You’d truly thought you might’ve just imagined him standing there and were shocked to realize he was flesh and bone. A flash of pale skin and black ink disappeared behind the counter top and re-emerged covered in leather. He had taken off one of his gloves to give Boogie some good morning pet-pets.
“Sorry doe.” He said apologetically, “I didn’t mean to spook you.”
“What are you doing?” You asked, your hand still resting on the light switch.
“Having a philosophical meeting of the minds.” He said, tapping Boogie on top of her head.
You scowled, “Anakin will kill you if he comes here and sees you. He has a key you know.”
“He won’t kill me.” Ghost chuckled, “He’s got a key? Nifty, so do I!” He added sarcastically.
“You didn’t really answer my question. Why are you still here?” You asked, eyes searching the room for anything out of order.
“Mmm yeah, that’s not what you asked me.” He chuckled, pulling open your silverware drawer and grabbing a spoon. “I’m not still here. I came back.” He answered as he scooped an unhealthy amount of sugar into your hello kitty mug.
“Okay… but why?” You held your hand palm up in questioning.
“I have important business to attend to.” He shrugged, pouring your coffee for you and stirring it into the sugar.
You pursed your lips but didn’t argue back, your eyes flicked back down to his now covered hand and back up to his face before turning to finish your initial quest.
“Where ya going baby?” He asked, staying behind the counter with his hands in his pockets.
“I have to pee.” You mumbled.
“M’kay.” His filtered voice rumbled as he turned to stop the microwave from dinging to signal your brown sugar oatmeal was finished cooking.
He did not however catch your cinnamon swirl toast in time and the shrill noise the appliance made sent the cat scrambling off the counter and knocking a few miscellaneous items into the floor. He stooped down and picked them up, placing them back on the counter top.
After your food was ready he sat it at the bar for you to sit and eat at while he got to work on setting out the supplies he’d bought to fix the walls and clean the couch. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door with two knuckles.
“Hey, you have some gloves in there don’t you? Like for when you dye your hair?” He asked, having realized it would probably be difficult to spackle the walls in leather gloves.
“Yes?” You responded confusedly.
“Good, open the door.”
“What? No!” You scoffed, standing naked and preparing to hop in the shower.
“Doe just open the damn door.” He grumbled, listening to you rustle around behind the locked door.
“Here.” You huffed, opening it just a crack and thrusting your hand out to drop the gloves into his.
“Thanks. You should hurry, I made you breakfast.” He said in an oddly warm tone.
“You did?” You asked, opening the door just a bit more to look at him.
“Yeah. I know you well enough to know you planned on going straight to that couch and not moving until forced to.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I also know you well enough that I called in sick for you today.”
You stared at him for a minute, he called your work for you? That means someone at your work must’ve heard his real voice right? A bubble of jealousy formed in your gut at the thought that one of your coworkers heard Ghost’s voice before you did.
“What?” He asked sharply.
“Nothing… thank you.” You shook your head, eyes wide as you contemplated calling the diner to ask if they recognized the voice.
You mulled it over while you were in the shower, weighed the pros and cons while dressing yourself in some lounge clothes, and thoroughly pondered it as you ate your breakfast and watched Ghost work.
It was comical to see him being so domestic, kind of like seeing a documentary about a wolf pup raised as a house pet. It could snap and destroy the house, destroy you at any moment. Just like Ghost.
But there he was, Fixing his mistake in the most calm and collected way possible. It was a soothing process to watch, score the damaged drywall with an exacto knife, break it off in a clean, straight line with a satisfying snap. Cut the mesh to cover the now smooth edged square of missing drywall, **zzzzrrip** the weirdly thin and fabric-y tape to hold it in place. Then came the best part, watching him patch it over with pink spackle, smooth it out as best he could then watch it turn from pink to greyish white as it dried.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” You asked, sipping your coffee and staring at his hands. The thin blue latex was almost stretched enough to make out the blob of the tattoo you’d caught sight of earlier.
“Summer job as a teenager.” He answer shortly, it’s not like he could give specifics. He’d spoken of his handyman work with his god-father to you before.
“So you don’t work in construction or something like currently?” You asked, trying to cross out a few ‘maybe’ identities of people tall enough and lean enough to fit Ghost’s build.
“No.” He snorted and looked over at you, his knowing smile might as well have been visible from the body language.
“Don’t give me that look.” You huffed, “I’m narrowing down my list.”
“I know you are.” He laughed. “That’s why it’s funny.”
“Well I know you don’t work in construction and you have a hand tattoo…” You crossed your arms and scrunched up your nose to accompany a sassy head bobble.
You’d caught his attention, he turned to fully face you, one arm across his chest and the other’s elbow resting on his fist as he held the putty knife covered in spackle away from his body.
“Hand tattoo?” He repeated in low accusatory way.
“Yeah, you have one.” You pointed toward the hand he held the putty knife in.
“What is it?” He asked, walking a few steps forward.
“I don’t know I just saw a blur of it earlier this morning.” You said, shifting uncomfortably in your chair.
He stood and stared, studying your expression and seeking the truth. After finding no evidence of deceit he nodded and turned back to resume his work on the wall. Every so often you caught him taking a peek over his shoulder at you, like he was suspicious after hearing you’d seen a part of him he hadn’t willingly shown you.
“Are you mad?” You asked anxiously, his whole demeanor had changed so quickly that it was a bit frightening and not in a good way.
“No.” The word was clipped and gruff as he cleaned up his tool and put the lid on the small bucket of spackle.
He walked back to the other wall and sanded the, now dry, patch until it was smooth enough to paint over and blend into the wall as if nothing had happened. You walked over and had planned to sit down on the couch but you realized it covered in some kind of weird clumpy power and damp to the touch.
“Gross, what is this?” You whipped your head around to ask Ghost.
“OxyClean and dish soap.”
“Why?”
“You bled all over the couch.” He responded, you hadn’t seen any blood spots, but there were definitely wet patches where he’d scrubbed the upholstery. He’d also… super glued the knife slash in the fabric back together, how very him of him.
“Okay but like why is it still on the couch?” You asked curiously.
“It needed to sit for longer.” He huffed like he was irritated with your questions.
“Oh, well I can finish it then.” You offered, hoping it might appease him.
“No, I started it. I will finish it.” He kept his words clipped, not hiding that he wasn’t interested in speaking to you right now.
“Okay then.” You snapped back at him, turning on your heel and stomping back to your bedroom and slamming the door shut.
The sharp noise startled Ghost and he whipped his head around instinctively. His jaw clenched tightly, upset with himself for being upset with himself. He didn’t mean to be an ass either, he just needed some time to accept that he’d fucked up and almost exposed his identity because he wanted to pet the fucking cat.
He groaned and turned back around, pounding lightly on his forehead of his mask with both fists in frustration. Bending down to pick up his cup but knocking it over and spilling what was left in it.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?“ he growled and gritted his teeth “damnit!”
Lucky for Ghost he wasn’t using a glass cup, no shattered mess to clean up. He instead was unlucky enough to be using a large metal, insulated tumbler, which made a very loud and reverberating *dtink* when he kicked it with his socked foot across the living room. Before the cup had the chance to land he had already picked up his foot and leaned one arm on the wall as he flexed his toes, it fucking hurt and his fist collided with the wall in anger, this time going straight through the drywall and into the wooden bracers behind it.
“Aw- fuck, goddamnit,” he pulled his fist from the wall and shook it out, grabbing his wrist and rolling his hand while flexing his fingers, “stupid son of a-“
“I need a cigarette.” He huffed, not bothering to put on shoes as he stalked over to the window and opened it, grabbing his bag on the way.
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Diary Entry: August 30th
Sorry for putting three holes in the wall.
I’ll admit that was alittle bit much. But it’s all fixed now and in the past so let’s not dwell on it. We’ve got more important things to do! Like taking you to the movies for a little date night.
Some kind of comedy thing for girls. I’m expecting it to be like that one with Melissa McCarthy. It looks stupid as hell which is a good thing because it’ll be funny even if it’s not. I don’t really care what we watch, you just told me no romance cause it’s ‘cheesy’.
Which makes no sense because your whole bookshelf is a giant collection of random species bangin’ each other. I mean seriously, I cracked one open cause the cover looked pretty and the first thing I saw was ‘the muscular werewolf thrust his-‘
That’s as far as I got before I went blind from fear.
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DATE
August 31st
Anakin whistled low and gave you a cheeky smirk that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Seeing you coming into your bedroom in just a towel, skin still damp from the shower. You popped your head up with a slight gasp of surprise, not realizing he’d come in while you were still in the bathroom.
“Sh-“ you grinned, realizing it was just him and shook your head at him. “You scared me!”
“Boo.” He snickered as he laid back in your bed with his arms resting behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankles.
“Ani, are we going casual or are we going fancy?” You asked, walking over to your closet and flicking through clothes.
You looked over your shoulder to get his opinion and had to do a double take, your cat walked across the bed and kneaded Anakin’s shirt before laying down on his chest. A flash of an image that you refused to see clearly tried to blend with the scene before you.
“Ah-Anakin?” You asked in a slightly louder voice. “Clothes?” You blinked a few times, trying to rid yourself of the lines forming between your eyebrows.
“Oh sorry doll, I got distracted.” He cleared his throat and tossed his phone aside. “Clothes? Whatever you want, you’re pretty in everything.”
“I’m wearing this.” He added gesturing to the ripped black jeans and a Vulvodynia tshirt. “And my TUKs for my tootsies.” He pointed toward the bedroom door where the lace up boots sat neatly against the wall.
“So how about this then?” You held up a shirt and a pair of pants on their hangers.
“I told you whatever you want babydoll.” He chuckled, “although if you really want my opinion I’ll give it to you.”
“I really do.” You nodded, jutting out your hip.
“Keep the shirt… grab that one real long skirt, the one with the open bit on the side.” He said, reaching down to trace a line up his calf to his knee. “Maybe those sandals with the thick bottoms.”
“A skirt?” You asked, making a face.
“Doll, you know I like it when you wear skirts and dresses.” He poked out his bottom lip in a pout. “You’re my girl, my pretty princess no matter what you wear… but you did ask for my opinion.” He tilted his head, toying with his lip ring and nodding toward your closet.
You got out the long black maxi skirt and paired it the shirt and shoes, walking over to the bedside. Anakin shooed off the cat and sat up to swing his lanky legs off the edge of the bed, he reached up to tuck your shirt into the high-hemmed waistband and then tugged it back out slightly to make it alittle loose.
“Damn. That’s my baby.” His voice low and gritty as he stood up to wrap his arms around your waist, his hands pressing you close to his chest to give you a chaste kiss on your forehead.
“C’mon sweet girl.” He patted your ass to get you moving, following behind you to slip into his boots.
“Wait, hold on.” You said, holding up a finger and jogging to your bathroom, re-emerging with a lint roller.
“Really?” He groaned and pulled the hem of his shirt to make the fabric taut.
“Yes really. When you wear all black and live with a cat you have to lint roll yourself Ani.” You rolled your eyes and aggressively rolled the sticky paper over his clothes.
“It’s a waste of paper, it’s bad for the environment.” He mumbled, turning around to let you get his back too.
“Your attitude is bad for my environment.” You muttered under your breath.
“What did you just say?” He snickered.
“You heard me.” You grinned, tossing the lint rolled back into the bathroom cabinet.
“Yes I did. I’m just a bit confused, when did we have children and why are you the father?” He snorted.
“Ha-ha, we’ve both made dad jokes. Let’s go.” With your hands on mid back you pushed him toward the door, making him laugh.
Waiting in line for popcorn with Anakin took much longer than you would’ve liked and he was beginning to get antsy. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips and his chin resting atop your head, clicking his teeth together to the tune of some song stuck in his head. His fingers drumming along as well, tapping across your hip bones.
“Oh thank fuck.” He sighed dramatically, stepping to the side of you and grabbing your drinks and popcorn.
“You act like we didn’t just eat like two hours ago.” You rolled your eyes and gave him a smile, watching him hold both drinks and the huge bucket of popcorn.
He bent his head down and ate a few pieces straight from the bucket, “That was two hours ago, this is now.” He swallowed and went right back in for another bite or two.
“You know I can carry something. So you can eat with your hands.” You laughed, passing by other theater rooms on the way to yours.
“No, I got it sweetheart.” He said softly, giving you a warm look. “I’m pretty good with my mouth anyway. Aren’t I baby?” He teased, licking the inside of his cheek while he watched your cheeks heat up.
“Shh!” You giggled and grabbed his upper arm, steering him into the correct theater room and up the steps to the top row. “Yes, you are.”
“Hands too?” He asked after putting your cups in the cup holders and helping you get settled. He lifted up the armrest between the two of you and snaked his arm behind you, scooting you closer and squeezing your ass.
“Hands too.” You whispered, the blush on your cheeks was red hot by now and you were thankful for the dark and sparse room.
“What about my c-“
“Perfect!” You said quickly, clapping your hand over his mouth while Anakin chortled behind your palm.
“Poor little princess?” He cooed, pinching your thigh and making you squirm. “Feeling all flustered? Out in public? Naughty thing.”
“Anakin Skywalker!” You whisper-shouted smacking at his hand that wandered from your ass to your upper thigh.
“Bet I could make you cum before the previews are over.” He leaned down, his lips brushing your earlobe.
“It’s okay babydoll, it’s just you and me up here.” His voice was soothing and much too convincing to ignore completely. Especially when he sat aside the popcorn in the next seat over and palmed his cock to adjust himself.
His hand gripped the back of your neck and tilted your head toward him, his lips meeting yours in a slow, sensual dance. He bunches up your skirt to your knees, picking up on leg and hooking it over his thigh to give him easier access.
“Need you to be quiet pretty girl, think you can do that f’me?” Anakin’s deep, sultry voice fanned over your jaw as he kissed the side of your neck.
“Mhm.” You nodded, keeping your mouth closed to avoid the moan you knew was going to follow his fingers slipping past your panties and running through the slick mess between your pussy lips.
“Keep that mouth open.” He whispered, smiling when you obeyed, dropping your jaw slightly “That’s a good girl.”
Anakin swirled his fingers around your entrance, twisting his wrist slowly as he gently pushed inside. Scissoring his fingers along the top wall, focusing the varied pressure on the spongey spot that took your breath away.
He smiled, tucking his head against your neck, tilting it to the side as he rocked his hand against you, “Grind on my hand princess, show me how nasty my angel can be.”
The heel of his palm was pressed firmly against your clit to help you get the friction you needed as his fingers worked their magic on your inner walls. Massaging wide circles as you bucked against his hand.
“Ani…” you whispered, grabbing his wrist and trying to move his hand away.
“Shh.” He silenced you with his lips on yours, his tongue laving away at yours. His soft, plump lips cradling yours in a moment of pure brain fog for you. He’d completely erased your knowledge of your surroundings, blacked your vision and muffled the sounds around you until all you could hear was his heartbeat as he put his hand over your mouth and tucked your head against his chest.
“Doing so good f’me,” he whispered into your hair, “you’re gonna cum when I tell you to okay?”
“You think you can handle that princess?” He asked, pressing his warm lips to your temple.
You nodded, tilting your head back to look up at his crystal blue eyes. He gave you a soft smile, kissed the tip of your nose and nudged your cheek so that you’d turn your head to the side. He licked the shell of your ear, nibbling along the curve of the cartilage down to your earlobe, his hot breath fanning over your flesh.
“I love you.” He whispered, telling you again and not expecting an answer, even though you gave him one nonverbally.
Your pussy squeezing his fingers tightly in response to the words, he wasn’t convinced that it could just be coincidence so he said it again, his voice gritty and low.
“I love you, my girl.” He kissed your jaw, his lips curving into a smile when he felt your pussy flutter again.
“Oh, I see.” He chuckled lowly, pulling back to see your eyes rolling back in your head. He shifted his hand over your mouth slightly and pinched your nose, cutting off your air supply completely.
You tried to suck in a deep breath out of surprise, getting choked on nothing as a result, your eyes opened in panic but you calmed slightly seeing the serene and loving look on Anakin’s face.
“Ready?” He asked, watching your face.
“Three.” He whispered, speeding up his ministrations, your hands clenching tightly, nails digging into your fists, your vision getting blurry.
“Two.” His thumb moving your clit and flicking over it rapidly, making you jump and whimper behind his hand.
“Shhh quiet.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head and breathing in your scent as your lungs began to burn.
“One.” His lips brushing across your ear have you cold chills down your back as you willed yourself to stay as silent as possible while Anakin cradled your head to his chest, he released your nose to let you breathe. The rush of lightheadedness made you cum even harder, curling yourself up against him and trapping his hand between your thighs.
You stayed like that for a moment, catching your bearings and recalibrating your senses. After he released your mouth you did the same for his hand, but kept your legs draped over him for the comfort of having him hold you. He sucked his fingers clean and wiped them off on his jeans, picking up his drink and taking a long sip of blue slushee just as the title card of the movie flashed on screen.
“See, told you.” He said casually, his other arm around your waist, rubbing your side languidly.
——————————————————————————
“You look so sleepy.” Anakin laughed, petting your hair as he walked with you up the stairs in your apartment building.
“I am so sleepy!” You pouted.
“Oh poor wee baby.” He cooed, pinching your sides and picking you up to lug you over his shoulder down the hall to your apartment.
“It’s only 9:00pm.” He said, unlocking your door and setting you down in the entryway. “You ready for bed?”
“Yes, extremely.” You nodded, shuffling toward your bathroom to take off your makeup and brush your hair.
“Well shit baby, did I really mess you up that bad?” He asked, following behind you with a guilty look on his face.
It was your turn to feel guilty now. You can’t tell him the truth can you? The lies and omissions were beginning to affect you in ways you hadn’t expected. You were beginning to see things that simply couldn’t be reality, making making connections by snipping threads and tying the ends in an order that forced things to make sense.
You felt your palms begin to sweat and couldn’t meet his pretty blue eyes as you lied to the man who loves you.
“Mhm.” You nodded, your eyes flickering to his brow bone to give the illusion you were gazing into his eyes just as adoringly as he was looking into yours. “You’ve been wearing me out Ani.”
“In a good way? Have I hurt you?” He asked, cupping your cheeks up with his soft, careful hands.
Did you even deserve those soft touches?
“Oh, no Ani you didn’t hurt me.” You shook your head quickly.
‘At least that wasn’t a lie.’
“Okay princess… do you need me to get you anything?” Anakin took the washcloth from your hands and finished wiping the black streaks from under your eyes, grabbing the brush and running it through your hair. The bristles scratching your scalp just the way you like it.
“No, just you.” Your quiet voice floated up to him, he watched your lips moving in the mirror and it was clear to him that something had severely dulled your mood.
“Alright, let’s put you to bed then sweetheart.” He set aside your brush, kissing the top of your head and steering you toward the bedroom.
Anakin squeezed your shoulder and turned away to retrieve a pair of pajamas, a matching set you’d put on and took right back off just a few days ago. The sight of it nearly caused you to burst into tears, it was just fabric, nothing more that soft threads and stitching. Though seeing it in his hands made you feel sick to your stomach.
He handed them to you with a soft smile, slipping from his jeans and out of his shirt until he was left in just his boxers. He flung back the covers and snuggled down under the blankets on your side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” You asked, the corner of your lip twitching into a smile.
“A certain little lady hates cold sheets, so I’m making ‘em warm.” He said as he pulled the covers over his head with a contented ‘mmm’.
He was sweet, too sweet for you. Too kind, too thoughtful, too good. You were right about him in the beginning, he is too good to be true, though it’s no fault of his own. It’s you who is to be blamed.
With the lights switched off and the bedroom door shut, you magnetized yourself to Anakin after he had rolled into his spot and pulled you to his chest. His warmth seeping through your flesh as a balm for the wounded soul that wallowed in the center of your chest.
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Diary Entry: August 31st
Have I let this go on for too long?
I feel like I’ve pushed us past the point of no return, your stress around me, my myself… it’s tangible. Like you’re worried you’ll say or do the wrong thing. I never intended for that. I didn’t intend for this to go on as long as it has at all.
I should’ve banished Ghost to The Pit after you’d accepted me into your life. I should’ve hung up the mask and retired my persona. I’ve always had trouble knowing when enough is enough, when to stop. It’s a difficulty that I’ve yet to overcome and probably never will.
It’s confusing for me, I can only imagine how confusing it is for you. You’re in the middle of it all, you are the center of my world, the sun in my star system. And because you are my everything, I will do anything to keep it that way. To keep you.
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DATE
September 2nd
Anakin paced the living room of his apartment, his thoughts traveling faster than a bullet train with a nitro boost. You would be arriving any minute now, you called your sister, you called Luke, but you texted him.
Yes he could hear your calls, but that only gave him half the information he needed. Information you were on your way to share with him.
Anakin was disappointed in himself. He should’ve bugged your backpack long ago, you take it almost everywhere. He could’ve caught the conversation you shared with your sister over lunch the day before. He would’ve been prepared for news, he would’ve had time to plan and time to practice.
What other conversations had he missed out on? Who else have you spoken to?
He was so caught up in his pondering and pacing that he failed to notice your appearance at the bottom of the stairwell, showcased on his laptop.
“Shit.” He muttered, palms tingling before beginning to sweat as he heard the doorknob click and turn. Anakin rushed to the coffee table and shut his laptop quickly, just as you entered the room.
You glanced toward his hand on the sleek metal and up to his face, a blank expression met you where there would usually be a wide goofy grin. You started to say something but stopped short when your phone buzzed, glancing down at it as you lifted the screen upward a *ping* sounded on Anakin’s laptop.
You watched as he picked it up and opened it to view the screen, he sat down heavily on the couch and started typing, looking up at you and beckoning you over with and wave of his hand.
“Sit with me sweetheart, s’just mom.” He rolled his eyes, tapping away at his keyboard replying to a non-existent message from Shmi.
He shut it down and sat it aside again, opening up his arms to let you lay against his chest. Giving you a light squeeze as you settled down, running his hands down your back.
“So, this weekend me, my sister and Luke are going out to the lake.” You started, putting one hand on his chest and resting your chin there.
“Oh?” His eyebrows raised, the lower half of his face remained unchanged.
“Yeah! We do it almost every year.” You smiled, “we get a cabin for a weekend and well usually Luke’s sister comes too but you know she just had the baby not too long ago so she’s not too keen on leaving just yet.”
“Sounds like fun doll.” He nodded, “Are you excited?”
“I am…” your smile faded slightly, noticing something about his tone wasn’t quite right.
“That’s good sweetheart, I bet you’ll have a great trip.” He pushed your hair behind your ear and put his palm on the back of your head to flex his fingers and gently scratch your scalp. “No skimpy little swimsuit, this bangin’ body is for me.” He teased, lightly kneading your ass.
You wanted to smile and giggle, to chide him for his comment but it didn’t feel right. His internal light seemed dimmer, a flickering bulb before it burns out with a *pop*.
“Is everything okay?” You whispered, feeling like if you spoke to loudly you might startle him.
“Huh? Oh yeah princess.” He nodded, giving you a little smile. “Sorry, I’m just feeling a little bit too in my head today.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him, watching his face shift for just a split second into something you didn’t quite recognize.
“Ah well it’s nothing really.” He shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up.
“No, there’s something wrong I can tell.” You pressed on, a twist in you guts telling you the worst scenario had come to fruition.
“Just- it’s fine okay?” He answered in a curt, snippy tone.
“Ani…” you reached up and played with his lip piercings, tracing them in a feather light touch that he found soothing.
“I’m irritated.” He scowled, picking up a hand from your back and running it through his hair. You opened your mouth to speak and he shushed you quickly.
“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His voice sharp. “I don’t like that you didn’t discuss this with me beforehand. You’re going somewhere without me, somewhere I’ve never been. How am I supposed to know you’ll be safe?”
“This should’ve been a topic of discussion. You should’ve spoke to me before agreeing to it.”
“I go on this trip every year, it’s perfectly safe. It’s very calm, there’s not many people. I’ll be just fine Anakin.” You sighed, not particularly enthused about his attitude.
“I feel purposely left out. I like to be included in decision making when it comes to you, I don’t think you’d be very happy if I decided to go on a weekend trip without telling you until after I had decided I was going.” His voice raising slightly, his heart beat quickening beneath your palm.
“I wouldn’t have told you no.” He scowled, “but now I want to.”
“Anakin.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I… I should have talked to you. You’re right, I would be upset if you decided to go somewhere with talking to me first.”
“But I don’t think it’s fair for you to tell me I can’t go.” You added, pushing off his chest.
“I’m not telling you that you can’t go.” His voice low and annoyed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I don’t want to argue before I leave Ani.” You sighed, feeling him recoil after you said ‘leave’.
“Then we won’t argue.” He huffed. “Look at me.” Anakin said, grabbing your chin as you turned away. “You will call me when you get there. You will call me before bed. You will respond to me when I text you. Understood?”
“I’m sorry Anakin I shouldn’t have-“
“Do you understand me?” He asked again, shaking your chin lightly.
“Yes.” You nodded, looking down at your hands in your lap and feeling a sense of guilt.
“Good girl.” He grunted, “Here.” He pulled you back down to his chest, rubbing your back and cradling your head, rocking you in a slow side to side motion.
“I’m not mad.” He whispered into your hair, his cheek pressed against the crown of your head. “I’m worried. I just worry about you sweetheart, I’m sorry if I sounded harsh.”
“N-no.” You shook your head. “No you were right Ani. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“Always such a good girl.” His voice cracking as his pressed his lips firmly to the top of your head. “Don’t worry bout it baby, I’m not upset with you.”
——————————————————————————
Anakin slammed the trunk of your car shut and pushed down for good measure, turning around and dusting off his hands, he leaned back on your car. Giving you a smile he pulled you in for a hug, wrapping you in his arms tightly.
“You be careful pretty girl.” He mumbled against your forehead before nuzzling into your neck.
“I will, I’ll call as soon as I get there I promise.” You said, nodding your head to solidify your words. “I’ll text and let you know when I’ve picked up Luke.”
“Alright sweetheart.” He smiled, “I hope you have a really good time. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too Ani.” You looked away, knowing what was coming next. Anakin cupped your cheek to make you meet his gaze.
“I love you.” His pupils dilated into big black saucers as he stared into your own. Those pretty eyes he adored so much, the eyes that told him what you wouldn’t say out loud.
You put your arms up around his neck, and tip toed to capture his lips in a soft, lax lipped kiss. One meant to be short and sweet, though with Anakin it’s almost impossible to achieve such a thing. He dominated your mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue curling to brush over yours while he hummed in satisfaction.
You slid one hand down his chest to pull back before you both got carried away in the parking lot of your apartment building. Anakin chased your lips with his, earning a giggle from you and plastering a smirk on his face.
“One more princess.” He mumbled, leaning forward to kiss your jaw. “Please? Gotta make you miss me.”
“I’m already gonna miss you.” You laughed, “don’t make it even worse!”
“I need it to be worse.” He grinned. “A whole weekend without you? I need you wet when you walk in the door.”
“Why’s that?” You asked, your cheeks heating up.
“Well it’d be real rude of me not to get my girl wet before I make sweet love to her wouldn’t it?” He spoke against your neck, squeezing your ass hard.
“Mhm. It would.”
“I’m impatient, I want you just as needy as me when you get home.” He nipped says your neck, pressing his bulge against your hip, making you gasp.
“Ani that’s not fair.” You pushed his head away, trying to squirm out of his grip as he peppered your flesh with his lips.
“Mm. Don’t talk to me about what’s fair.” He grumbled. “Why don’t you just let me have a taste huh, princess?”
“I’m gonna be late!” You squealed as he picked you up and sat you down on the trunk of your car, grinding himself against your clothed cunt.
“You think I give a shit?” He asked, his hands sliding under your shirt and lightly exploring your abdomen, his tongue running along your collarbone.
“Anakin wait there’s-“
Before you could finish speaking a horn blared loudly as a car drove by slowly in the parking lot, the driver scowling with their hands thrown up. Anakin jumped and whipped around quickly to flip the driver a double bird.
“Ani!” You smacked at his shoulder but couldn’t help laughing when he turned around with a goofy grin on his face.
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pinchofhoney · 6 months
Text
be careful what you wish for
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
warning: platonic relationship, quite angst-ish, text in italics is a flashback
summary: Turning in a district boy to the authorities felt like the right thing to do for Coriolanus. But what if, in doing so, he betrayed you as well?
a/n: absolutely no one asked for it, but i'll deliver it to you anyway<33 i'd say have fun but i'm not sure i'd be appropriate here
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @watercolorskyy
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
The moment Sejanus shared Billy Taup's escape plan with you, there wasn't much hesitation on your part. It's not that you acted without thinking; it's just that you didn't need much time to decide.
The summer was scorching, feeling like an unending oven. The sun never let up, and even when you hoped for cooler nights, the heat lingered. You've gotten used to the coal dust that's practically become your second skin in District 12, but what truly got to you wasn't the clinging dirt. It was the musty scent of men's sweat, a scent that clung to the air, heavy with the hard work that defined your daily life.
Being one of the few female Peacekeepers among a crowd of men wasn't your ideal situation. Many other girls had come and gone, unable to stand the sacrifices the job demanded, but you stood your ground, determined to prove yourself in this role, even if serving in this particular district wasn't your dream come true.
At least until a certain point.
When you first arrived in District 12, your main goal was to pass your officer's exam as quickly as possible and secure a transfer elsewhere. But when young Plinth kindled the idea of a life beyond authority and rules, the seed of belief in freedom took root within you. The very thought of it resonated in your mind, sounding truly incredible, and you couldn't wait to leave the filthy district behind, escaping through a gap in the wire mesh fence.
But, of course, life wouldn't be too easy if everything just went as planned, right?
One moment, you were getting ready with Sejanus and the other rebels, gathering the basics for your escape north to the supposedly destroyed District 13. The next, you found yourself standing behind one of the empty houses on the Seam with Coriolanus. He held onto your shoulders, telling you urgently that you had to leave the District as soon as possible.
“What?” was the first word that slipped from your lips, your brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at your friend. “Isn't that exactly what we're working on?” you added, slightly amused, pushing Coriolanus' hands off your shoulders.
Shaking your head, you were about to update him on your progress when he caught your forearm again. “I think you misunderstood me, Y/N,” he said, his face dead serious. “You need to get out of here now,” he continued, and seeing your raised eyebrow, he almost gritted the last word through his teeth.
“What do you mean, Coryo?” you asked, breaking the silence after staring at him for a while, tired of him speaking in riddles.
Now Coriolanus was the one staying silent, his cool eyes fixed on you. You couldn't decipher his expressions; it felt like he was betraying a hundred feelings at once and, at the same time, nothing at all.
“I… um, there's…” the blond man started, stumbling over his words, unsure how to share the information he needed to tell you. “There's a chance that the talk Sejanus and I had, which you joined not long ago, about your escape plan, might have been fully recorded by one of the jabberjays.”
You seemed not to grasp the gravity of Coriolanus' words, so you stared at him, searching for any hint in his eyes that he might be joking.
“Okay, so what?” you eventually asked, once again furrowing your brows, this time with a bit less intensity.When a twig snapped around the building's corner, you quickly turned, thinking it might be someone eavesdropping, but finding only a small hedgehog, you shifted your attention back to the boy in the bluish uniform.
“So what?” Coriolanus repeated your question, unable to believe your difficulty in connecting the dots. “Y/N, these birds are headed to the Capitol. To the lab of the woman who’s the Head Gamemaker of the Hunger Games. And do you know what the Capitol authorities do to rebels?” he asked the question, not waiting for your response. “They hang them on the hanging tree, Y/N.”
You stared at Coriolanus, steadying yourself with a hand against the wooden building. With every word he spoke, you felt the color drain from your face.
“How… How did this happen?” you asked, trying to keep your emotions in check.
Coriolanus happily took care of the mockingjays, moving their cages, tagging them, and passing them along. As Bug left with the fiftieth cage, Sejanus burst into the room, full of excitement. He shared the good news about the upcoming package from his mother with his friends, watching Bug leave with a smile before turning to Coriolanus, who had just finished dealing with the bird marked as number 1.
The bird chirped in its cage, mimicking the last mockingbird, but once Bug was gone, Sejanus' cheerful expression faded, replaced by a troubled look. He glanced around the hangar to ensure they were alone before speaking in a quiet voice.
“Listen, we've only got a few minutes. I know you might not like what I'm about to do, but I need you to at least understand it. After what you said the other day, about us being like brothers, well, I feel I owe you an explanation. Please, just hear me out.”
This was the moment, the confession.
Now was the time for the pieces to be explained, especially about the alliance with rebels and money that he found in Sejanus' belongings. Once Coriolanus heard it, he'd be as good as one of them, a traitor to the Capitol.
Panic, running, or trying to silence Sejanus could be expected, but Coriolanus did none of these things. Instead, his hands moved instinctively. His left hand adjusted the cover of the jabberjay cage, while his right, hidden from Sejanus's view by his body, reached for a remote on the counter. Coriolanus pressed RECORD, and the jabberjay fell silent.
Turning his back to the cage, Coriolanus leaned on the table with his hands, waiting.
In the middle of Sejanus' explanation, you dashed into the hangar like a hurricane itself.
“There you are!” you exclaimed, both happy and a bit annoyed to find young Plinth. “Why didn't you wait for me? I said I wanted to go to Coryo with you,” you added, crossing your arms on your chest as you closed the gap between the boys and yourself.
It seemed that Coriolanus, noticing you in the hangar, tensed up a bit. He glanced briefly at the cage with the bird recording the conversation on the table, but neither of you or Sejanus noticed, and together, you continued explaining your plan to him.
During your report, where you and Sejanus competed over who could give Coriolanus more details, he lowered his head and rubbed his brow with his fingertips. It looked like he was trying to gather his thoughts, unsure how long he could stay silent without seeming suspicious.
But Sejanus rushed on, “I couldn't leave without telling you. You've been like a brother to me. I'll never forget what you did for me in the arena. I'll find a way to let Ma know what happened to me. And my father, too. I'll let him know the Plinth name lives on, even if it's in obscurity.”
The mention of the Plinth name was enough.
Coriolanus's left hand found the remote, and he pressed the NEUTRAL button with his thumb. The jabberjay resumed its earlier song.
Something caught Coriolanus's attention. “Here comes Bug.”
“Here comes Bug,” the bird echoed in his voice.
“Hush, you silly thing,” he scolded the bird, secretly pleased it had returned to its normal pattern. Nothing to alert both of you. He quickly covered the cage with a cloth and marked it with J1.
“I swear, I have no idea,” Coriolanus lied, wearing a worried expression. “While rearranging the cages, one of them must have snagged the remote control.”
You lightly bit your lower lip, eyeing your friend. Without any reason to doubt him, you finally let out a shaky breath.
Gazing up at the sky, you counted to three in your mind to steady your nerves. Then, you looked back at Coriolanus.
“Does Sejanus know?”
“Of course, I told him first,” he lied again, his gaze fixed beyond your shoulders without losing the concerned look on his face.
“God, what are we going to do now?” nerves took over every cell in your body as you asked another question. You leaned against the wooden building, slowly lowering yourself until you were sitting on the ground.
You lifted your head to meet Coriolanus's eyes, and he crouched in front of you, placing his hand on one of your knees.
“Hey, don't stress. You're heading back to the base now. Pack what you need, and tonight, you'll slip out of the district just like you planned with the rebels. You'll meet Sejanus at the lake, alright?” he spoke with a calmness, almost like talking to a kid, trying to reassure you.
Even though Coriolanus despised rebels — those who went against the Capitol's rules — he didn't want you to suffer the consequences that would surely befall Sejanus. He had nothing against you; in fact, he genuinely liked you. Your innocence about a better life beyond the Capitol's control wasn't his concern because you hadn't caused him any trouble, unlike young Plinth who had stirred up problems more than once.
“But won't it be suspicious if I suddenly vanish? They'll be searching for me, Coryo. They'll find me and punish me,” you said, placing your hand on his.
“I told you not to worry, remember?” Coriolanus replied, a bit sharper but still maintaining his reassuring tone. “I'll figure something out. No one's going to harm you.”
“But Coryo, you-” you began, but he quickly cut you off.
“Enough, Y/N,” Coriolanus said firmly, standing up from his crouch. “Get up. We're heading back to base,” he reached out a hand to you, which you took after a moment's hesitation. He helped you stand, silently conveying to act naturally before stepping out from behind the building.
You had no choice but to go along with Coriolanus' questionable plan, clinging to the hope that he knew what he was doing.
Little did you grasp the reality—that he was the cunning architect behind the recorded conversation. Sejanus wouldn't show up at the lake beyond District 12's boundaries. Instead, his fate would take a dark turn as he dangled lifeless from a tree in a matter of days.
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Could I ask for an Alastor getting Hanahaki over Reader and everyone has to chip in to help him out? He's afraid of losing them as they're the only one who's never been afraid of Alastor (sure the Radio Demon part is creepy asf but Reader looks past it to befriend him) and would rather die alone then lose their presence.
The others figure out what Hanahaki is after finding him coughing up flowers one day and they each pitch in to help him through it; even Lucifer helps. And Charlie threatens Al with telling Rosie and Mimzy (you decide if they need to get involved)
Just everyone helping Alastor not second-die, him being confused as to why they're helping him and learning he has more friends then he realizes (and is nicer to them as it goes on) and also Reader being incredibly fucking confused as to what's been going on.
Sorry if it's a lot! And thank you in advance if you decide to write it ^-^
~~~ ALASTOR X READER ~~~
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Hanahaki! Alastor x F!Reader
'A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and a man cannot live without love." - Max Muller
Trigger Warning: mentions abuse, vomiting, near-death experiences, cringe obliviousness
Alastor knew he was feared among mortals and sinners. He was the equivalent of a boogie man, so to speak. He had no time for trivial things like love, relationships, or weakness. He had to be strong, always ahead of the game, and ready to take anyone who dared to oppose him. Well, that was till you came along. You were an enigma; he had heard about you when you appeared in the realm of sinners; however, you were fierce in the human world. Every man that wrongly touched a woman or attacked a woman was soon dealt with by your hand. You tortured them, strung them up, and ended their lives slowly. Alastor was impressed, to say the least.
However, when you turned up on the Hotel's doorstep six months ago, you were anything but scary. You looked innocent, almost too innocent. Alastor tried so hard to hate you to think nothing but the worst in you, but you had a grip on him. It's not every day that someone is entirely unphased by him. The day you two met was like nothing before; everyone in hell knew of him and his reputation. You even did, too; you had to have known of this since Rosie was the one who suggested you find refuge in the Hotel. Yet you looked up at him when he loomed over you and just smiled.
The Radio Demon was known for the catchphrase 'never truly dressed without a smile,' but somehow yours was just as off-putting as his, like you learned something no one else ever would. He enjoyed that about you. That you were so full of kindness and energy but also something so dark and twisted. Before Alastor knew it, he took you in as an apprentice. The end goal is to teach you his ways and your soul; well, that would be his. That was always the plan to create a powerful accomplice to assist in his dirty deeds, yet something changed over time.
Alastor didn't remember when he started protecting, defending, or even fighting for you. It all happened out of nowhere. He hated all of it, but he couldn't stop himself. Slowly, as time passed, he sought guidance for these newfound emotions, leading us to now.
Alastor made his way to the bookshop in town, the best place to get anything involving the damned and dead. These newfound feelings could be an ailment of sorts, perhaps. As he perused the books, he bumped into you, of all people. Shocked, he spoke, "Hello, doll, good to see you here. Are you catching up on some light reading?"
As he said this, he looked down at the book in your hand and noticed the book was covered in an arrangement of flowers. It's odd for being a book in hell for it to look so innocent and cheap. As he was questioning the existence of this book, you spoke up. "Alastor, what a pleasure it is to see you here! I was researching sicknesses and curses from the mortal realm when I stumbled upon this book. It's pretty, no?"
Alastor looked at you and the sweet look in your eyes and couldn't help but nod in agreement with you. God, if he truly existed, needed to help get him whatever cure was necessary for these stupid thoughts. Alastor took the book from your hands, observing the details, and flipped through the pages gently. He looked back over to you when he spoke. "Dear, why don't I buy this for you? If I remember correctly, you have a date with Ms. Rosie soon. I would hate for you to miss your confidential meet-up."
You nodded gently, smiling that same eerie smile as always, making your way out the door, not before leaving a generous tip for the demon at the counter. You were always kind and gentle to those who had done no wrong to you or your loved ones. Yet when someone wronged anyone close to you, they would coincidentally go missing. You were like a gorgeous rose with those incredibly thin secret thorns. Alastor went to the front soon after you and placed the books you two had found on the front counter. As the shopkeeper looked up to see the grinning radio host, he just ducked back down, minding his business. Alastor smiled, dropping some coins in the jar before returning to the hotel.
Once inside, Alastor made his way to his tower, ready to read the books that may cure these insufferable feelings he has been having towards you. The first book on the document, "Freudian Emotions," As Alastor read through the book, he couldn't help but be mildly disgusted and enamored with the literature. Who just openly admits they were in love with their mother? Who was the man who wrote this book? Deeming the book unsatisfactory, Alastor moved on to the next, "How to know understand your darker feelings". This book pertains to many of Alastor's emotions when he was in the mood to kill or harm. Only the chapter 'Lust' has mild insinuations of the random emotions he was suddenly feeling. Another dud he surely would need to pay that shop keeps another visit to request better literature.
As Alastor thought everything was lost, he noticed your book again. Taking a closer look at it, one would call it eloquent. The sage green cover was adorned with thousands of different flowers. The title reading, "Ancient Alments of the Flowers and Gods," piqued his interest greatly. As he skimmed through the pages, he saw countless excerpts about those who scorned the gods and curses placed upon them. One specific page really caught his attention, it was about an ailment called 'Hanahaki'. Someone with feelings of unrequited love would profusely vomit flowers till their feelings were requited. The other option was an intense surgical procedure that would leave the person affected loveless. Underneath a picture of a young girl with flowers around her and coming out of her mouth was a message. It was hard to make out; Alastor moved the book closer to his face.
Squinting closer at the message, Alastor mumbled, 'A Flower Can Not Blossom Without Sunshine, Just As One Can Not Live Life Without Love.' As those words left his mouth, his fate was sealed. A sudden urge to get sick overtook Alastor as he dropped the book on the ground and ran to the bathroom down the hall. There, he passed a confused Angel Dust, putting on more makeup in the mirror. Alastor made it to the toilet where he proceeded to get violently ill.....with......flowers. Flowers? Why flowers? As Alastor tried to process the turn of events, Angel Dust popped his head in. "Uh, radio man, you good? I don't think I have ever seen you get sic- Oh god, why are there flowers everywhere?"
Before Alastor could pop his head up enough to respond, he threw up more flowers. Standing up woozy, he washed his face in the sink before turning to the spider demon. "I don't know what's wrong. I read this book Y/N bought, and now I am seemingly throwing up flowers."
Angel nodded, lending a hand to the demon and helping him straighten himself out. The two started to head out of the bathroom when the woman herself appeared out of nowhere. "Hi, guys! Oh, Alastor, are you okay?" Concern was evident in her voice, and it was adorable when she worried about him.
Before Alastor knew it, though, he was pushing Angel towards the girl and returning to throw up some more. With some gentle words from Angel and a lot of persistence, finally Y/N left. Once she was far enough away, Alastor was freed from the clutches of flowers once again. Sighing, he turned to the spider demon, "Angel, good fellow, I need to find where I dropped that book."
Angel joined Alastor in the hunt for the book and kept Y/N away. Luckily, they made it back to the radio tower unscathed. Once the book was found, Angel and Alastor began digging into it. Nothing came of it except a simple smirk from Angel. "Alastor, do you have feelings for little Miss Y/N?"
Alastor looked at the demon, puzzled. What a stupid question to ask while he was here, vomiting flowers. Yes, he had some odd feelings he didn't understand right now, but nothing like what that stupid book described. Angel sighed, shaking his head, and went for the door. Alastor was in a panic, "Where are you going? Are you not going to help me?"
Angel turned to Alastor, "I'm going to get more help because you obviously don't realize what everyone has been seeing since the day that girl arrived."
Alastor looked at Angel quizzically as he left. Sitting on the floor of the tower, he thought about everything. He understood the explanation of the curse in that stupid book was about someone loving another who didn't return the feelings, but he had never experienced love before. Well, he had for his momma, but not another. Would he describe these odd feelings he had for you as love? While lost in thought, Angel appeared with Husk, Charlie, and Vaggie hot on his tail.
As Alastor was snapped out of his thoughts, a concerned Charlie appeared before him. "Alastor! Angel told us everything. Are you alright? Where is Y/N? Should she be here too?"
As the young girl's name left the princess's lips, the sick feeling happened again. He turned to his side and started to vomit more flowers. Everyone was in shock. When he was done, he turned and looked up at the others. Angel picked up the cursed book and handed it to the others for them to read. It clicked for everyone as soon as they got to the message at the bottom. Alastor was in love but didn't realize it.
Alastor sat weak and groggy, observing from the sideline as everyone huddled together. Rolling his eyes, he went to stand and go about his day when he was ushered into his seat by the group. Now, sitting in his hosting chair, everyone lined up before him. Charlie stepped forward, "Alastor, you are in love with Y/N!"
Again, as the name left Charlie's lips, Alastor doubled over, vomiting profusely. Flowers littered the room; all anyone really could think was that at least it smelt good. Angel placed his hand on the Radio Demon's shoulder and turned to Charlie, "Toots, I think we should avoid saying her name for now until at least we come up with a plan."
Alastor shook his head and looked up. "Where is she? I don't know what will happen if I see her again right now. Just her name is causing this. I would hate for it to be worse."
Everyone nodded. Husk said, "After Angel told me what was happening, I convinced her Rosie needed her." A sigh of relief was heard from everyone in the room. Alastor looked to the crew in front of him and spoke again, "I don't even know what love is, so why has that damned book cursed me?"
The group looked at each other and nodded, lining back up. Angel stepped forward first: "Exhibit A, When she who shall not be named appeared at the hotel, she was unafraid of you. You came to me later that evening and asked if your name was still prevalent in the demon community. When I confirmed it was, you stared at her for hours and kept mumbling, 'Fascinating, truly fascinating.'
Alastor blanched at the omission, not ready for the retelling of the last six months of his life. He couldn't deny, though, that having someone not immediately afraid of him was refreshing. Over the six months he had known you, he repeatedly tried to make you scared. Nothing happened, though. You always just smiled and went about your day with him.
Next up was Vaggie, "When we were all practicing for the war with the angels, and she was fighting with one of the cannibals, you asked me how her form was so perfect. You were enamored with her when I explained that she had to have been a fighter in one of her lifetimes. I don't think you stopped staring at her while she was practicing that whole day."
Alastor turned his head away from his friends, feeling a bit warm. He couldn't deny your fighting form was gorgeous. You were fierce on the field that day. Constantly slaying enemies, though you were beautiful in red, the Gold that adorned your face after you slew the angels was something else. Not to mention, you were the one who found him in the wreckage of the radio tower that day. You helped him and tended to his wounds before returning to the others during the rebuild phase. He vividly remembers how you were right there, so close yet so far.
Husk stepped up to the plate: "The night that she drank herself silly at the bar after losing Pentious, you sat with her the whole night while she talked. You never do that, and I would know. You even carried her to her room when she passed out."
It was confirmed that he watched you drink your heart out once the hotel was rebuilt. Crying profusely over the snake man. A part of him felt anger that you felt so strongly towards another, but it also hurt him to see someone he 'cared' for hurting. When you finally passed out, he realized how soft your features were. You were so calm and delicate but also so fierce and aggressive. He picked you up so delicately and carried you to your room across the hotel. When he laid you down, you gripped him and mumbled, 'Be safe, Alastor, please.' Hearing that, his heart was alight.
Finally, Charlie took center stage, " On top of all these instances, you've not once asked for her soul, nor have you made a deal with her, nor have you made any insulting comments."
Alastor stalled....was that true? He knew deep down it was. He continually lied to himself; he was only interested in you because he wanted your soul. Did he really want to force you into servitude, though? Everything came crashing down on Alastor so quickly. There was no way was he....was he...in love. As the pieces clicked for the Radio Demon he hunched over in the chair spilling his guts full of flowers out, this time they weren't just any flowers, they were Roses. He always compared you to roses, your beautiful soft exterior covered with those hidden thorns.
As the coughing of flowers ended, he looked at his friends. They all were smiling, waiting for him to admit it himself. Alastor didn't know what scared him the most: that he loved you or that all these people cared enough about him to remember such antics. Did these people actually have so little time in their dreary lives? "Thank you all for the trip down memory lane, though I understand I apparently love......her......how does this help my situation?"
The group looked astonished at the thanks but contemplated the weight of his words. It's great he understood, but how did you feel? You were an enigma to everyone, eager to help and lend a hand but keeping your heart close to your chest. Charlie, in all her wisdom, spoke, "Go to Rosies and profess your love right now! No woman can resist a sweet confession!"
Angel laughed, "Sorry, toots, but I would deny a man who went to tell me he loved me and then vomited on me."
Husk said, "At least the vomit is flowers that could be a plus if not mildly concerning for the girl."
Alastor listened to everyone's points; going to Rosie wouldn't do, and it would just be too much and embarrassing. He had a front to keep all these other demons in the realm, still had to know who was in charge. While everyone was deep in thought, the door to the radio tower opened. Everyone turned to the noise. Alastor, still sitting, couldn't see what was happening. "I heard from a little birdie's phone that we need a magical love confession!" Oh god not Lucifer, may an Exicutioner strike Alastor down now.
"Dad! Yes, Alastor needs an amazing proposal that won't be hindered by his uh issues." Charlie exclaimed.
"Oh, you are talking to the king of romance, baby! Here's the plan!"
~~~~~ Time Jump ~~~~~
A week had passed since Alastor came to terms with his feelings and realized he had more friends than not. However, this elaborate plan for each person in the hotel to try and get Y/N to confess she had feelings too was becoming too much. The symptoms of the Hanahaki were becoming too much. Her voice alone now was making him vomit. So far, each attempted love confession ended with the girl being overly confused and concerned about where Alastor was hiding. They usually were inseparable, but he had avoided her for a week since the bookstore.
This is where Lucifer's plan came to a head; see what he told everyone to do: get her to confess. In reality, he planted the seeds of worry and doubt in the young girl's mind. If she also loved Alastor, she would seek him out and confess herself. Maybe she was just as oblivious as the Radio Demon. The sweet, innocent young demon was starting to bear her fangs and claws, as luck would have it. Lucifer was an avid Kdrama stan. Of course, he knew how this troupe would play out and took the right amount of push from the group.
Alastor was also growing to miss you; the more he agreed with his feelings, the more he was worried about what you were doing if you hated him for disappearing, and if you were going to accept him. As the thoughts plagued his mind, a timid knock was heard on his door. Standing up and straightening himself out, Alastor opened the door. There you stood in all your glory. He could tell you hadn't been sleeping from the bags under your eyes, and you looked a little pale, probably from not caring for yourself from worry. He was so happy to see you, ecstatic that you cared! Well, till he started to vomit flowers again.
Panic ran across your face as you reached out to help Alastor; however, your touch only worsened things. The flowers were changing colors; rushing to sit him down, you noticed the book you had wanted to buy a week ago. Picking it up on the page it was on, you saw the term 'Hanahaki.' Reading through the page after noticing the girl in the picture had the same ailment as Alastor, you grew upset. He was in love with someone....who? You got to the part of the passage that has a message. 'A Flower Can Not Blossom Without Sunshine, Just As One Can Not Live Life Without Love.' As you spoke those words, Alastor grew worried. What if the same aliment that was affecting him now also affected you. Not only would he worry about your health, but he would know you didn't love him.
After a few minutes, nothing happened; Alastor didn't know how to feel. Were you not in love at all? While contemplating all these thoughts, the flowers came up again, so you didn't love him back; he would have to resort to some stupid surgery to be okay again. Coughing out the last flowers, Alastor stood, "I'll be fine, doll. Just leave me be."
"Who is she...or he...whoever?" He could hear the sadness in your voice. Why were you asking him who caused his ailment?
"Never mind....we should get you help.... or get you to confess something so you can live normally again." You were doing everything in your power to hold back the tears. Alastor reached out and moved some fallen hair behind your ear.
"Who do you want me to be in love with?" Alastor spoke timidly for the first time in his lifetimes since he was a child. He was afraid of your rejection, the illness, something, anything. You did so many strange things to him. As you looked up into his eyes and he saw the hints of tears forming, for once, he didn't feel like vomiting. Slowly inching forward, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. Gently, like at any moment, everything could be ruined.
When you kissed back, Alastor felt light. Once you two pulled away for air, he was prepared for more flowers. Your voice alone made him throw them up; he was worried about touching you. Nothing came. He looked down at you once more and smiled his signature grin. "Doll, I dare say, do you love me back? No wonder you didn't get cursed with the ailment when you read the passage."
You smiled softly at him, wrapping him in a hug. Things were back to normal again, and now, with you two together, hell had a whole new list of worries to deal with. Who knew the Radio Demon would only grow stronger once he found the love of his lifetime?
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talesofesther · 2 years
Text
dead channels
Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie finds dead channels on a walkie-talkie to vent about his feelings and everything he goes through. One day, you happen to stumble upon his frequency.
A/N: I can't remember where I saw a prompt like this, but I knew that I had to write something about it. I think it's important to say that I know very little about how walkie-talkies work. And yes I went way overboard with this story but I truly loved how it turned out; it's a big one, the biggest one shot I've ever written, but I promise, it's worth it.
Word count: 11k
Masterlist
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February 7, 1985
You were annoyed, and Dustin would hear about it for giving you a walkie-talkie without telling you what channel you were supposed to be using.
You paced in your living room, switching the frequencies, finding dead channel after dead channel. For ten minutes the only noise coming from the device in your hands was static.
Until you turned the switch one more time, and the static stopped. You clenched your fist in victory, sitting down on your couch and about to voice your frustrations to your younger friend.
"… I hadn't seen him in four years, man."
To your surprise though, someone on the other end of the connection spoke first.
A deep frown etched itself into your face when you heard the muffled voice. It wasn't one you could recognize, clearly not Dustin's. The words were laced with a distant sizzle, maybe because the person talking was too far from your location or the walkie they were using was too beat up. The tone was quiet too as if spoken without the intention of anyone hearing it.
Against your better judgment and with the help of innocent curiosity, you didn't switch channels.
"I don't know what I was expecting. Shit, I shouldn't have been expecting anything. Uncle Wayne was furious when he walked in on us and saw my bloody nose, he chased him off, yelling for him to never come back, not even caring what he needed the money for. I- I wanted to say something too but… Damnit.."
You heard what you assumed was a sniff before the stranger kept on talking.
"Dad did always make it clear that I was his biggest mistake, guess I just wasn't expecting him to come back and throw it at my face after all these years. Again."
The words were a private confession you weren't supposed to hear. There was no answer for the muffled voice. This person was using what he thought was a long-forgotten channel as some sort of diary, maybe. At least that was your first assumption.
You ran a thumb over the grey plastic of the walkie-talkie on your hands, finger hovering above the switch. Your knee bumping up and down. Should you say something? Should you change frequencies and forget this ever happened?
You changed channels, but not before memorizing the frequency.
February 19, 1985
Almost two weeks went by before you heard the lonely voice on the dead channel again. You told yourself it wasn't creepy to set your walkie-talkie to the channel when you weren't using it.
You stood in front of your kitchen counter, cutting up potatoes for your dinner. The chicken was already heating up and you sneaked tiny pieces of it to your dog when your mom wasn't looking.
The walkie rested on the dining table, you liked to keep it close these days. One never knows when the upside-down might decide to pay a visit.
"So uh, Hellfire has a new member."
You nearly cut your own finger when the static buzzed and, right after, the stranger's voice was invading your house. You turned around, carefully, as if the person knew you were listening in.
"His name's Gareth, seems like a cool guy. Honestly, I'm just happy that we now have enough people for a full campaign, I- I have all of it planned out and I think it's gonna be great, the storyline is thrilling…"
Subconsciously, you found yourself smiling. The kitchen was empty, save for your dog wagging his tail, and you were smiling as if someone had just told you the good news you were waiting for.
You didn't know this person, this was the second time you were hearing his voice, yet the almost childlike excitement that laced his tone today filled your chest with similar joy. A stark contrast to the last time you heard him.
Was it too weird to feel like you were starting to know him?
February 20, 1985
It didn't take long for you to hear from him again, not even a full day had gone by.
You had just gotten home. Throwing your car keys on top of your bed and removing your coat. On the horizon and past houses and trees, the sun was starting to lower itself, you looked at the orange rays through your window, stretching your arms.
You were rummaging through your wardrobe in search of pajamas when you heard it.
"I fucking… this school, man… Jaso-… ruined my da-"
The voice was laced with static and fading in and out of connection, the sound muffled by your backpack. You were in the process of removing your shirt as you raced towards your bag, almost tripping over your discarded sneakers.
Pulling open the zipper, you snatched the walkie and adjusted the antenna.
"… been working on that campaign for weeks man, weeks, and that douchebag just… He- he…"
You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, in nothing but your jeans and a bra; the tone of his voice slicing through your heart and making it bleed. Your eyes were unfocused as you loosely held the device, waiting for the lonely voice.
"Ripped it to pieces and threw it in the mud as if it was nothing. It's not fair. Shit, it's not fair, and I- I wanted to fight back y'know? But…"
You heard a sigh, heavy and tired.
"Yeah I froze, it's not like three against one would be much of a fight anyway."
The static came and the voice was gone. You stayed there, the wooden floor starting to become cold under your knees. Your eyebrows pulled slowly into a frown. Does this person study at Hawkins High? It's not like Hawkins had many options regarding school but still, it left you all the more frustrated that you couldn't pinpoint who it was.
Granted, your only normal year in high school was the first, and you didn't remember much about it. After that, Will went missing, and… Your mind had been a bit numb to the normal days ever since, you wouldn't be surprised if this person was a classmate of yours.
Abril 29, 1985
After a couple of months, you genuinely felt as if you knew this person.
It was odd if you so much as stopped to think about it. He opened his heart to what he thought was an abandoned channel, yet you were always there, listening; but never talking back. You knew his voice by memory, yet he didn't even know there was someone on the other end.
Sometimes — most of the time — there was a pang of nagging guilt at the back of your mind. But you'd usually think to yourself; what if, someday, something happens and he needs someone?
Well, you'd most likely be there, and if anything, the thought made you feel a little better about your curiosity.
The lonely boy on the walkie-talkie became your secret. A secret, for the sole reason, that he also became your comfort. These days your house was mostly always empty. You slept with the device resting on your bedside table. If you closed your eyes forcefully enough, you could almost feel as if he was there with you. He became a constant presence in your day, even when he didn't speak, you knew he was there. Knowing there was someone else out there made you feel less alone.
Sometimes, when the sizzled voice coming from the device was too shaky, laced with tears and sorrow; the guilt made itself more present, you wished you had the courage to speak up. To tell him that you were there too, that you could be there for him if he wanted you to, the same way he involuntarily was there for you.
After a long Thursday, you were sleeping, the rain outside had lulled you to an easy slumber tonight. However, when your bedside clock hit 2:08 AM, a distant voice started pulling you away from dreamland.
The sound was distant to your ears at first, waiting for your body to fully wake up. You opened your drowsy eyes with a frown, looking around your bedroom that was still engulfed in darkness, with only the street lamps making the raindrops on your window shine.
And then you heard the familiar voice again, quiet, molding itself into the night.
Maybe it was a bit foolish of you to leave the walkie on during the night, but these days, you couldn't help yourself.
"… and Wayne found a picture of my mom. He says I have her eyes."
He continued, apparently. You pushed yourself up with your elbows, the covers pooling at your waist. You wondered how much of his monologue you had missed.
"I don't…"
The tears staining his voice were pretty noticeable tonight.
"I don't remember her that well anymore, I wish we'd had more time… Shit."
And that was all. Static, and then he was gone again. It was fast, part of you wishing you hadn't slept at all.
July 4, 1985
You took a deep breath in, bracing yourself for the pain. With one hand grabbing onto the bathroom sink, you draped the antiseptic-covered cloth against the wound in your abdomen.
The paramedics at the mall did a good enough job, but some cuts still needed a bit more attention.
It had been one hell of a week and you barely had time to breathe between being trapped in a Russian elevator, finding a Russian base, being drugged and tortured by said Russians, and for the cherry on top, fighting a human flesh-based giant monster.
You were heavily considering a vacation from Hawkins.
Biting into your lip, you carefully closed the bandage over the wound. The white sink of your bathroom was covered in blood, as were the tip of your fingers and parts of your clothes. Tonight, you thanked the heavens for your mother's busy schedule, providing you with an empty house and plenty of time to clean up the mess.
Steve, the ever-sweet boy, offered to stay with you and help with… whatever you might need. You said you were fine, which, was a lie, but he had enough pain of his own to take care of.
You discarded your shirt to the bathroom floor, looking at your exposed skin in the mirror with a grimace. Long sleeves and sunglasses would be your go-to for a while if you wanted to avoid questions. You were popping open the buttons of your jeans when the crackle and static of the walkie-talkie made you jump. The warm voice of the stranger buzzed through right after.
"Starcourt just burst into flames."
You placed a hand over your racing heart, tightly shutting your eyes before reaching out for the walkie that rested against the tub.
"Yeah it's- it's crazy, the new town mall just burned to a crisp, at least that's what the news is saying. But I don't know man, I was making a deal near there when I heard the ambulances, there were so many of them; I mean, they said a lot of people died, so…"
You sat down on the edge of the tub, holding the walkie tightly between your hands as you listened intently.
"But still, I walked up to see what was happening and the place was filled with cops, army even, and well, ambulances. I had never seen something like that. And the weird thing is that there were some people from school there, Harrington for one, I also saw some kids from middle school and… Y/N was there…"
A chill ran up and down your spine when you heard him say your name. This person, the one you've been listening to in what was supposed to be a dead channel, the one who chased away the cold feeling of loneliness; knew you. Your lips hung open in shock, he said your name with such ease. He saw you there, he recognized you from a distance and under the blinking lights of the ambulances. Your chest constricted around your heart, squeezing tightly up towards your throat. You wanted to know him too.
You felt guilty for not being able to pinpoint who he was. Okay, the sound of a voice through a walkie-talkie is not the best or clearest. Still, if he knew you so easily, he definitely went to the same school as you, had the same classes, walked the same hallways.
Raising a hand, you rubbed your eyes and clawed at your hair. Urging yourself to think of someone, anyone.
"She- I saw her, she was sitting by herself in the back of an ambulance and I think she was crying. I'm not sure but, she looked so beat up, and- and hurt and I was walking, I mean, I was going to walk up to her to see if she was okay but a cop didn't let me. Maybe for the best, would just end up scaring her more I guess. To be honest, I don't know why I'm talking about it, I just felt like… Nevermind."
Scare you?
Your unfocused eyes stared ahead for long seconds. The cold from the tiles seeping through your body because of your bare feet.
One person came to your mind.
You hugged yourself, arm closing around your abdomen, feeling the cold, bruised skin underneath.
You thought of soft and unruly brown curls, tattoos, metal band t-shirts, and leather jackets.
You had never talked with him, shared maybe one class, literature; he rarely said anything then too. You passed by each other in the hallways, and you once caught him watching you in the cafeteria, he had been so flustered when it happened that you found it adorable. You then started shooting him small smiles here and there, and he reciprocated with big ones of his own.
Robin told you about him once. The School's Freak, she said people called him.
______
There was no way for you to be completely sure it was him, it's not like you could walk up to him one day and ask about it.
But you did start paying more attention to him, Eddie. It was hard when you only had him in the same class as yours one time, and other than that, only bumping into each other in the hallways didn't leave much room to observe.
You could walk up to him and talk, he seemed sweet. You didn't have all that courage yet though.
So you kept on listening, and your eyes kept on searching for him in the crowds. A few months went by like that, and you grew attached to someone you had never talked to.
December 6, 1985
Cold wind was raging outside and you were glad to have a working heater in your house. No amount of it felt enough though, as you sat on the carpet in front of the lit fireplace.
Your dog lay beside you, as you annoyed yourself by trying to set up the Christmas tree; it was a bit too big for the flower pot you had at home.
Slowly letting go of the branches, you said a quiet "yes" when the tree didn't topple over.
You started with putting on the blinking lights, turning them on to bathe the room in a multitude of colors. And as you rummaged through the trinkets, your ears caught in with the familiar static;
"So, I felt like setting up a Christmas tree this year. It's in the kitchen and it's not big, but it's there. I- I even bought some lights and there were some ornaments tucked away in a box that I found…"
The walkie was resting on top of your couch and you found yourself yet again smiling alone because of the pure happiness that came from your unusual companion.
"Christmas was never a very… happy holiday for me but, maybe this year will be better."
"I hope it is." You caught yourself answering back quietly, for no one to hear.
January 3, 1986
Winters could be pretty harsh on Hawkins. The break was over and it just so happened to be pouring rain on the first day back to school.
The skies were grey, heavy drops of water hitting the pavement as you turned the wheel into the parking lot. Of course, it was packed with cars, no one wanted to walk when it was raining.
You groaned as you pulled up in one of the farthest spots from school. Closing the zipper of your jacket, you grabbed your backpack and a small yellow umbrella you always had in your car.
The little thing didn't do all that much in keeping the rain from reaching you, with help from the wind, the only part of your body you managed to keep dry was your head. With one hand holding the umbrella and the other a strap of your bag, you took quick steps towards the school; walking forward with purpose when actually you should be paying attention to the puddles and many leaves the wind knocked down last night.
Water splashed around your boots, but before you could even get annoyed at that, your foot was slipping on brown leaves; the motion sent you falling back and you could only think of your backpack being submerged in the puddle.
It never happened though. You closed your eyes bracing for the impact, and instead felt two arms around your waist, your back hitting someone's chest instead.
"Woah hey, careful. That would've been a disaster."
You clutched your sorry excuse of an umbrella, slowly standing up and removing yourself from the embrace that caught you. His voice reverberated through your body in the form of a shiver, making your heart pump blood faster. The tight grip you had on the umbrella was mimicked from the one in your lungs. You couldn't breathe, because you knew that voice.
Turning around, you met the chocolate brown eyes you had been secretly wanting to see this up close for months now.
Eddie looked down at you with the ghost of a smile, he wore a black hoodie to protect himself from the rain; still, some droplets of water clung to his hair and eyelashes, shining.
And your silence must have sent him the wrong message because he stuffed his hands in the hoodie's pocket and took a few steps away from you.
He cleared his throat, eyes moving to look at something over your shoulder. "Yeah, sorry. I just didn't want you to fall, didn't mean to overstep or anything."
You internally kicked yourself multiple times for being a weirdo. "No, you didn't overstep, at all. uh- thank you." You breathed, managing a reassuring smile. "Really, you saved me from a massive embarrassment and from being cold all day."
You quickly maneuvered your umbrella to cover both of you, moving to stand beside Eddie. "Come on, let's get out of this rain."
Eddie's cheeks flushed pink at the unusual kindness. He walked side by side with you, bodies close under the yellow umbrella. Butterflies fluttered inside his stomach because he finally talked to the girl who held his heart's affection.
Once inside the school, Eddie headed to his art class whilst you walked to your science one. He waved a shy goodbye at you and that was it.
Even if you tried, you couldn't possibly concentrate on what the teacher was saying or the notes you were supposed to be taking. Eddie Munson was the lonely stranger who had been keeping you company over the last year. Seeing the clear picture now, you were frustrated for not putting two and two together sooner.
You were fidgeting with the pencil on your hands, biting your tongue until you almost tasted blood because now the person who spoke over the static of the walkie was suddenly so real, so tangible. And if anything, knowing it was Eddie only made your heart swell harder for him.
January 23, 1986
Friday nights were your nights, the time you always gave yourself to simply relax. You'd pick up a movie at Family Video, taking the opportunity to hang out with Robin and Steve at their new place of work for a while; then get home and change into your most comfortable pajamas, make some popcorn, and lunge on the couch. Just as you are now.
You lazily stroked your dog's fur, who was passed out beside you. The lights were off and the only thing illuminating your face where the images on the TV.
Last time you checked it was around 8 PM, but after a long week, your eyes slowly started to drop with tiredness. That is until the walkie-talkie inside your backpack started buzzing with the familiar static, and you were suddenly more awake than ever.
You scrambled to grab it, quickly raising the antenna before throwing yourself onto the couch again. You lowered the volume of the TV, waiting.
You heard a pained grunt first and then;
"Jesus man, they got me good today. Ugh shit- I feel like a truck ran me over or something."
Concern etched itself into your face instantly, you grabbed your blanket closer to yourself, praying for some kind of elaboration from Eddie.
Eddie. It still felt so foreign to have a name for the lonely voice now.
"I should- I should be used to it by now but… I just want it to stop. Whatever man, I'll just strap a band-aid to it and sleep it off."
"No, no, no. Don't do that." You mumbled to yourself. You ran a hand through your hair, stomach twisting in anxiousness. Running over every possible scenario in your head, even with most of them Eddie hating you in the end, you decided that you wouldn't leave him alone today.
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you were about to do, crossing your fingers for it to not be a mistake.
You pushed the button on the walkie. "You should clean the cut first."
Silence, there was silence for a long time. His voice was smaller when he spoke again, hesitant.
"I- I'm sorry I thought this was a dead channel… No one ever answered, I'm- I didn't mean to.."
"It's okay," you closed your eyes, interrupting him. "It was a dead channel, I think; I just stumbled upon it a while ago — not long, promise — and I heard you, and, I don't know it felt like you could use some company I guess. But then, I- I never really said anything."
You bit your lip, nerves making you tap your knee incessantly. "I sort of just, hung around in case you… I wasn't listening like a creep or something just- I'll switch channels in a minute okay? I just need to know, are you hurt?"
You let go of the button and groaned audibly, facepalming because of your own words.
"A little, yeah."
His quiet voice was a relief, part of you expected him to leave you hanging. You leaned back on your couch. "Okay, uh listen, if it's a cut, you need to clean it up, if you don't have antiseptics just use water. And if it's just a small one, it's best to leave it open, so it can heal on its own."
"You have a lot of experience with this stuff?"
You smiled. "Yeah, you could say that."
Eddie was surprisingly chill about your whole predicament. You walked him through patching himself up. From what he told you it wasn't that bad, just a few punches here and there that would leave him sore for a few days. It still made you feel sick to your stomach though.
Talking with him was easy, the way his voice addressed you made you smile. About an hour had passed when you deemed he was taken care of.
"Hey, I'm sorry for never telling you there was someone else on this channel. It was a shitty move, I just never managed the courage to speak up I guess." You told him before ending the call. "But I promise I'll never switch to it again."
You held the walkie between both your hands, the movie on your TV had long since been over.
"It's okay. Anyone could've found this random frequency, I'm glad it was you. I uh- usually change them, from time to time. But this one was always silent, so I figured I'd stay."
Picking at a loose strand from your blanket, you pressed the button again. "I'm sorry." You mumbled again. "It was never my intention to intrude. Just so you know, I wasn't always listening, to you, I mean… Sometimes it happened but, like I said I thought that maybe one day you might need someone to talk to or something."
Eddie must have heard the worry in your tone because his next words calmed you;
"You don't need to apologize, it's okay. To be honest I don't know why I started doing… this. I guess I just wanted to pretend like someone cared to listen to my whining. It feels- it feels nice to hear a voice answering back for a change. You don't need to leave."
And so you stayed.
______
The routine that you both created was different, to say the least. You didn't realize how much you were dreading having to leave his channel on the walkie until he said you could stay and you felt the weight being lifted from your shoulders.
Now, you were actually talking to each other. You felt like a thirteen-year-old with her first crush each time you heard Eddie's shy voice calling out for you over the walkie-talkie. He was always hesitant, always a bit too quiet in the beginning. But he seemed to enjoy the company just as much as you did.
You saw him at school every day, sharing nothing more than a few 'good mornings' here and there. Maybe he knew it was you who he talked to on the supposedly dead channel. Maybe he suspected it could be you, just like you did in the beginning. Either way, he never asked.
And you didn't either. It was a silent mutual understanding that names didn't need to be exchanged. You knew he felt more comfortable this way, after all, he was sharing his heart out with what he thought was no one before you spoke up.
You let Eddie set the pace, this was his safe space. When he felt ready to talk in person or ask about you, you'd be there.
February 4, 1986
"Come on guys it's no fun if you just stay sitting there," Max complained, before dropping her skate to the ground and making her way to the ramps.
You and Steve sat on a blanket under a big willow tree, one of the few shadows surrounding the skate park. The day was sunny and the place was filled with teens.
"Alright, I think I'll go then." Steve got up, stretching his limbs and picking up the rollerblades. "You coming?" He turned to you.
"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." You smiled at him. He shot you a smile back before making his way to the cement slopes in the park.
You closed your eyes, breathing in the fresh air of the trees around you.
"Hey, um, you- you there?"
Hearing the sizzled voice coming from the walkie near your backpack, you stretched an arm to grab it; pulling the antenna up and pressing the button. "Hi, yeah, I'm here."
"Cool, is this like, a good time, am I interrupting something?"
You smiled with Eddie's voice, your eyes following Steve's wobbly movements on his rollerblades. You laughed when Max had to rush to him so he wouldn't fall.
"No, it's perfect," You told Eddie.
That was the day you held your first normal conversation with him. He had called just for that, to talk; and your heart just about melted. You told him where you were, told him how a friend of yours was kinda bad at skating and the younger one was a pro. And Eddie told you about going to lunch with his uncle, how the man sometimes was the dad he never had.
March 12, 1986
"And then he just ran over the living room, dragging mud everywhere. God, I was so mad." You giggled, laying down on your bed and holding the walkie over the pillow next to yours.
A soft static came and Eddie's voice followed. You heard his laugh first, making your smile widen.
"I can imagine the mess. But it's so cool that you have a dog, man. I've always wanted a cat, or a dog too."
You turned around, eyes fixed on the pillow beside you, a tiny part of you hoped to see Eddie staring back at you. Outside your window, you caught a glimpse of the evening sun, orange and pink rays announcing its departure for the day. "Yeah, he's good company. Makes me laugh even if I get mad first."
Silence followed after. You closed your eyes, conjuring up an image of Eddie raking his mind over what to say next. It was cheesy. You didn't care.
"You know, I- I've been learning a new song, I play guitar, and I've been learning this new song. It's pretty sick, it's not perfect yet but… Do you- do you wanna hear it?"
You pushed yourself up on your elbows, breathing out a chuckle. Your heartbeat was drumming against your ribcage, happy that he was slowly becoming comfortable enough to share more things with you. "I would love to."
"Okay, here goes…"
You could hear the smile on his words, and as he started strumming the cords on his guitar, you decided that you loved hearing him play.
March 22, 1986
You'd never wanted this to be the way for you to see him again.
After calling a bunch of people and searching up every Rick in town just to find Eddie, then finally getting a hold of him in a secluded house at Lover's Lake and sort of filling him in about what was potentially happening; your friends were now deciding how to continue.
"Are we just gonna leave him here?"
"I mean it's not like we can walk around town with him."
"Then we can, I don't know, stop at a market by morning and bring him some food."
Dustin, Steve, and Robin talked amongst themselves, their faces illuminated by flashlights and the moonlight seeping through the shack's windows. You were leaning against the iron wall in the far corner, gaze trained on the swaying boat but not really focused.
To put it lightly, things went to shit. The upside-down was showing its claws again, but your main concern is that Eddie was being accused of murder.
Slowly, your gaze found him, and the mere sight tore your heart into two. He was slumped down in the opposite corner of the small shack, hugging his knees to his chest and shaking violently; his cheeks had tear tracks on them, no doubt his mind was reliving what he went through.
You wanted to go to him. Hug him close and tell him everything would be okay. But things weren't so simple. Until now, you still hadn't spoken to him in person again. You didn't know where boundaries started or ended.
"Okay, it's settled then." Steve decided. "Hey man, we're gonna bring you something to eat by morning yeah? Until then just… Try and get some rest." He addressed Eddie, who could only look at him.
One by one, your friends exited the fishing shack, walking out into the night, your gaze switched between the door and Eddie's small figure against the wall. You took slow steps to the door but stopped by the threshold.
"Steve," you called for your friend, hand resting on the doorway, "I think I'm gonna stay too, it's not good for him to be alone."
Steve walked back to you with a frown, his sneakers crushing the leaves underneath. "Are you sure?"
You nodded, reaching out a hand to squeeze his. "Yeah it's alright, I don't want him alone."
The look in your eyes didn't leave much room to argue. Steve left with a reassuring smile and the promise of food by morning.
As the car sped off in the distance, you closed the door behind you and turned to Eddie. He hadn't moved, his eyes were clouded with dread.
You took careful steps towards him, wincing at how the old wooden floor screeched beneath your feet. You moved to sit down in front of him, leaning your back on some wooden crates.
"You didn't have to stay." Eddie forced out, with a quiet tone that broke in the middle. His gentle brown eyes were glistening under the fading moonlight.
Gulping down a lump in your throat, you managed a smile. "I wanted to."
Eddie's gaze drifted from yours, the curl on his lips was bittersweet. "It's you, isn't it? Who- who I've been talking to."
You could hear your own heartbeat. "Yeah." You breathed out.
Eddie bounced once in his seat, leaning forward with a real smile. "I knew it!"
His excitement made you chuckle. You thought about how this would happen, you never imagined it this way though. Yet somehow, sitting with him in an old fishing shack in the dead of night while hiding from authorities, felt weirdly right.
"I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, I just didn't want to…" You trailed off.
"Mess it up?" Eddie finished for you and you nodded.
He picked at a loose thread on the rip of his jeans. "Yeah, me neither. I mean, I had a feeling, that it was you, I thought your voice was familiar but… I never had the balls to ask."
Eddie looked up at you then, pupils blown as he took you in. You, the person who became his safe space. The one who could take his breath away with just a simple 'hello'.
Since the first time you shot him a dazzling smile at school his heart had been entranced with you. People rarely spared him the time of day, yet you graced him with a genuine smile every day. And Eddie wholeheartedly meant it the day he said he was glad it was you who found his channel on the walkie.
Back then he didn't know how much he was hurting, aching for someone that would care about him, about listening to him. And that day, when your voice came through the once dead channel, his lungs took a deep breath of fresh air after weeks, months of drowning in murky waters, alone.
Eddie counted the minutes to your conversations each day, it was the best part of his day, the one he looked forward to the most. Talking with you was easy, he became addicted fast, and fell even faster.
You decided that it wouldn't be a problem for you both to sleep inside Rick's house, it's not like anyone would come looking, and sleeping on hard wood or inside a boat was less than ideal.
The house was a mess inside, looking like it had been abandoned for some time. Dust covered the surfaces, most things being out of place and haphazardly thrown around. You searched around for rooms with Eddie close behind you.
There were two bedrooms, you stood in the hallway between both doors. "I can take this one and you take the other?" You pointed to one of the rooms.
Eddie nodded hesitantly, he was fidgeting with his rings, uneasy. You could tell something was bothering him, and you had a feeling about what it was. "Or, we could just take the same room."
"Yeah," Eddie let out a relieved sigh instantly, "please." He was dreading the feeling of being alone. Even if you were in the other room, it was too far.
You both removed shoes and unnecessary layers of clothing, laying down on the bed with a reasonable distance between you. The bed smelled… old, like it hasn't been used in some time, but it looked clean.
Eddie was as stiff as a rock beside you, even not touching him you could feel it. You turned to him, adjusting the covers over you. "Try to relax Eddie, you need to rest."
He breathed out, lower lip wobbling with the motion before he turned to you as well. Eddie clutched the covers closer to his chest, a cheap attempt at seeking some kind of comfort. "You know I didn't do it, right?" He tentatively raised his gaze to yours after he spoke, barely being able to make out your face in the darkness of the room.
You frowned, for a split second wondering what he was talking about until the worry in his voice caught up to you. "Of course I do. Eddie, I- I know you, and I know you would never hurt anyone. It's just not who you are. You're good." In a bold move, you reached out and took his hand in yours, squeezing and running your thumb over his knuckles.
Eddie felt his whole body filling with goosebumps at your touch, air getting stuck on his throat as he savored the feeling. He scooted closer to you, only a little, and didn't let go of your hand through the whole night.
March 24, 1986
After Max figured out she was most likely next on Vecna's list, you had to leave Eddie's side to help your friends.
Steve's car was waiting on the side of the road for you to get in, a breeze was flowing through the grey sky, rustling green and brown leaves.
You put on your jacket and prepared to leave Eddie's hiding place, walking to the front door of the neglected house, with Eddie right behind you. You turned to him before you walked outside. "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"
Eddie stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around the house. "Yeah, I don't think anyone will come looking here. Plus, your friends need you."
"You're my friend too." You told him quietly, tilting your head as your eyes remained on him.
Gentle brown eyes found yours, Eddie pursed his lips before taking half a step towards you. He was about to reach out for you but hesitated, clearing his throat awkwardly before lifting a hand to the back of his neck and extending the other for you to shake.
His attempt at pretending he wasn't about to give you a hug made you giggle. You closed the gap between you with a smile, pulling Eddie to you and holding on tightly.
His arms went instantly around your waist and he lowered his head against your shoulder. "Be safe, yeah?"
After being separated from Eddie; Nancy, Robin and you took a trip to Pennhurst, managing to speak with Victor Creel just in time to save Max's life.
March 25, 1986
Between saving Max and finding Victor's abandoned house, only now do you and your friends have time to check up on Eddie.
Your knee was bouncing incessantly the whole car ride there, your stomach was twisting with a weird bad feeling like something wasn't right. And sure enough, when you finally arrived at Rick's old house, it was surrounded by cops, nosy civilians, and the town's reporters. Yellow tapes blocked the access to the area and you just about felt your heart dropping to your ass at the sight; surely going a few shades paler at the thought of anyone finding Eddie.
Luckily, he seemed to have gotten away. Your fists balled in anger when you heard the chief of police making Eddie's name public as the prime suspect of the damned murders.
"Dustin? Can you hear me? Y/N?"
You had never been so relieved to hear Eddie's voice through the familiar crackle and static of the walkie-talkie. Before Dustin could even think of answering, you were already snatching the walkie from his backpack and taking a few steps away from the crowd to answer.
"Eddie? Thank god, you almost gave me a heart attack, are you okay?"
From the other end of the frequency, crouching under a massive rock in the middle of the woods, Eddie dropped his forehead against the walkie held between his shaky hands; a single tear escaping his eye.
"Not really, sweetheart. But shit, it's so good to hear your voice through this thing again, you have no idea."
You smiled, tension leaving your body in waves for the very same reason. "Where are you? I'll come find you."
"Skull rock, you know it?"
"I know where it is," Steve told you, all of you already making a beeline for the car.
The woods you were walking through to find Skull rock were dense, everywhere you looked sort of seemed to be the same place and you could only pray that Steve and Dustin knew where they were headed.
All you could think about was finding Eddie, making sure he was okay, and then never leaving his side again. Leaves and branches crushed beneath your sneakers, Robin and Nancy spoke softly behind you, their voices mixing with the birds singing around the forest. Despite the situation, you found yourself smiling because of the unlikely bond you had formed with the long-haired boy.
Steve squeezed his way past dense bushes with a huge grin, revealing the giant rock. "There she is Henderson, Skull rock. In your face man." He said happily, apparently winning whatever discussion he'd been having with Dustin.
"Doesn't make sense," Dustin said beside you, making you turn your head to him with a soft frown.
"Yeah, even with it staring you right in the face, you can't admit it. You just can't admit that you're wrong, you little butthead." Steve shrugged, lightly mocking the teen.
A loud thud came from behind you, then. Making you jump on the spot and quickly whip your head around.
"I concur, you Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead." Eddie took a deep breath in, hands resting on his hips.
Your lips turned up with a relieved smile, you didn't waste a second before walking the remaining steps towards him. You pulled Eddie to you with a stronger grip than before, closing your eyes to just feel him, there and safe.
"I was so worried, thought they got you." You mumbled against him.
Eddie held you back with the same intensity, one hand running up your spine and to your shoulder blades. "Yeah me too, sweetheart." He squeezed a little tighter, basking in the feeling of comfort only you can give him.
______
You could safely say that being in the upside-down was not on your bucket list. Yet here you were, swinging oars at cursed bats that decided to feast on Steve's torso. The sight was nightmarish, it was your Hawkins, only much darker, with a never-ending red storm in the sky, dust particles that made it hard to breathe, and gross vines crawling everywhere.
And only after — sort of — winning the fight against the bats and losing the creatures with help of the forest; that you finally felt the nagging pain in your leg.
You were walking beside Eddie, who was still freaked out. Steve, Nancy, and Robin just a step ahead amidst the looming trees. It started with just a distant pain that had you limping, then you felt wetness running down your ankle and soon enough you were light-headed, some trees doubling themselves in your vision.
You didn't register you were falling until Eddie was scrambling to catch you.
"Y/N? Shit, don't do this to me. What happened?" He was already on edge and right now it'd be safe to say he was on the verge of panic. He had both arms under yours, maneuvering you to sit on the ground with your back against his chest.
His voice alerted the others, who came running back.
Nancy crouched in front of you, concern evident on her face as she checked for injuries. "I think she was bitten on her leg."
She lifted your jeans slowly, causing you to groan with the sharp pain shooting up and down your leg. You could feel Eddie squeezing your hand, his chin coming down to rest on your shoulder as you heard his soft voice telling you you'd be okay.
Using Eddie's bandana, Nancy managed a tourniquet around your leg. The bleeding ceased to a minimum, and you allowed yourselves at least five minutes to breathe given that you and Steve had been hurt pretty badly.
Eddie rested his back against a nearby tree, and even if you asked, you didn't think he'd let you go. So you remained in his arms, comfortably resting back onto his warm chest.
He had his arms wound around your abdomen, grip never wavering. You brought a hand over his, brushing over his knuckles.
You felt him tense momentarily behind you, then he started lazily playing with your fingers. "Getting back at me for making you worry earlier?"
A chuckle escaped you, leaning your head back on his shoulder. "Something like that, yeah."
Several heartbeats passed before you felt Eddie turning his head, his lips grazed your hairline. "I can't lose you, man. I just- can't."
His voice came out quiet and broken, if you weren't literally feeling his breath against your ear, you wouldn't have heard. Goosebumps filled your body, you grasped his hand in yours.
"You won't." You promised.
March 26, 1986
It was almost bittersweet, the momentary peacefulness of the green fields, when you knew what you would be heading into soon. The place was gorgeous, a hidden treasure maybe. The blue of the sky contrasts with the endless grass plains, with numerous trees surrounding the clearing.
You sat by the trailer Eddie and Steve stole, preparing molotovs with Robin. You opened one of the bottles, pushed the cloth inside, and heard a familiar laugh in the distance; looking up, you saw Eddie wrestling with Dustin, both boys running around on the green field with smiles on their faces.
"How's your leg?"
Robin's voice from beside you made you aware of your own smile. You tried to hide it, focusing back on your task, but not before stealing a last glance towards Eddie. "It's better. Bothering a little but nothing I can't handle."
When Robin didn't answer, you glanced up to meet her eyes. She had a shit-eating grin on her face, making you raise an unimpressed eyebrow.
"You two are adorable, y'know?" Robin mused, smile persistent as she put another finished molotov to the side.
"We're friends, Robin." You grumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up.
"Oh yeah, you totally are."
From far away, Eddie swung his newly made shield around, with an excited bounce on his feet. "Hit me, Henderson."
Dustin jabbed the makeshift spear into Eddie's shield, both of them smiling when both weapons held up well.
Twirling the spear in his hands, Dustin rolled his eyes when he noticed Eddie sneaking a glance towards the stolen trailer for the thousandth time. "When were you going to tell me about her anyway?"
Eddie's head snapped towards Dustin, and he straightened in his stance, both hands holding the shield to his chest. "What are you talking about, man?"
Dustin spread his arms and pointedly raised his eyebrows as if to say 'seriously?'; "you and Y/N obviously, when did that happen and why am I always the last one to know?"
"There's nothing to know and nothing to tell, alright? We're just friends." Eddie told him nervously, pushing away strands of hair that the wind had brought to his eyes. "She deserves much better anyway." He grumbled to himself.
The incredulous look on Dustin's face would have been comical if he hadn't all but shouted his next words; "spare me, dude, everyone can see it, you like each-"
"Jesus christ, shut it Henderson." Eddie sprinted towards him, shield pointed at the boy who had no other option than to stop talking and defend himself.
______
The moment you crossed the portal back to your Hawkins, and Eddie hesitated, you could swear you felt your heart freezing in your chest. Before he even cut the rope, you were already begging him not to do it.
The makeshift rope fell on your hands and he might as well have plunged the spear right into your heart. Eddie was looking up at you from the upside-down and your throat was already closing with dread, you were screaming at him, words you couldn't even remember. When he walked away from the portal with the promise to come back, for the first time, you didn't believe him.
Everything had happened in a haze, you told Dustin to not dare move as you managed a way up and back through the portal. The wounds on your leg were stinging with each of your movements, more so as you hit the ground on the cursed side of Hawkins.
Your pain hadn't been a concern then, the sole thing on your mind was to find Eddie. You had thrown open the trailer door and ran out into the upside-down world as fast as your legs could carry you, not stopping once, sneakers thudding against the grey ground.
When you saw the swarm of bats circling only one spot, in a hurricane-like manner, hundreds of them going from the ground and up to the sky; you knew Eddie was there, in the eye of the storm. With no regard for your own safety, air stuck in your lungs in a mix of fear and adrenaline, you ran to him.
You could remember the particles in the atmosphere clouding your throat, the blood flowing down your leg.
You had found him there then, tears collecting on the bottom lid of your eyes. You didn't stop though. Eddie was on the ground, with the tail of one of the bats around his neck and a few others trying to claw at his abdomen.
What lasted about five seconds felt like an eternity. You had spotted Eddie's spear, grasping it tightly in your hands and slicing the bat's tail clean off its body, aiming for the ones attacking Eddie next.
When Eddie stumbled up beside you, wobbly on his feet but still standing, shield in his hands; you had already felt a faint relief.
Not even a minute after, all the bats surrounding you were falling from the sky as some sick resemblance of rain. Dead. You thanked whoever did it. Dropping down to your knees — to catch the first real huff of breath ever since the rope had fallen heavily in your hands — you looked Eddie over, who had also been breathing heavily beside you. He was hurt, yes; a few bites and scratches here and there, but he was okay. No air seemed to be enough for you though, almost like the beginnings of a panic attack that you tried to chase away.
Eddie had extended a hand to you, you had seen the worry in his eyes that no doubt were mimicking yours.
And that had been the last look you gave him. You had pushed his hand away weakly, standing up on your own, with legs that almost didn't have enough strength to carry you. Your chest was going up and down with difficulty. You had dropped the spear to the ground with a thud, slowly limping back to the portal on the trailer. Eddie followed, you didn't look at him.
Now — after Steve, Nancy and Robin had found their way back through the portal as well, and you all but collapsed into Steve's arms because your body had simply given up — you sat on the couch at the back of the stolen trailer. Steve was driving, telling everyone all about the fight with Vecna, Nancy sat on the passenger's seat and Robin sat with Dustin near the front, along with Max, Lucas, and Erica after you picked them up.
And Eddie, given his home still sported a portal — a slowly retreating one, but it was still there — sat beside you. You put a distance between you both though, pressing yourself against the end of the couch and looking out the window.
You could feel the way his eyes hardly left you, most likely wondering why you were so quiet. Thing is, you couldn't bring yourself to look at Eddie, or talk to him. Anger was bubbling inside you because of what he did, because of how reckless his actions were. You knew the raw fear was lingering too, however.
"Hey guys, where should I drop you off?" Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror.
"I'll go to uh-" Eddie started, but you spoke over him.
"My house, he's coming with me."
"Yeah that- that's exactly what I was going to say." Eddie agreed quickly, his hands incessantly fidgeting with the hem of his green vest.
Your house arrived quickly, you said goodbye to your friends with a tight hug to each of them, making them promise to take care of themselves whilst they made you do the same.
The night was cold as you slowly limped your way up the stone path that lead to your front door. The lights on the house were turned off, you weren't surprised. It was late, you didn't know how late but the whole town seemed to be asleep already, unaware of the evil that had once again been defeated just minutes ago.
Eddie walked close behind you, one hand lingering against his stomach as the other stayed ready to catch you if you stumbled.
You hadn't bothered to lock your front door and for once you were happy about it, your guard dog came running to greet you, making a beeline for the stranger behind you.
"Hello to you too." You grumbled to your dog and turned on the lights in the living room.
"Oh, it's your dog, hey dude." Despite his wounds, Eddie was happy to crouch down and shower your dog with pats. Huge smile on his face as he bit his lower lip, fingers disappearing amongst the fur.
From your place in the hallway, you stole a glance at them. Instantly, tears were prickling at the back of your eyes.
Shaking your head, you walked to your bathroom. Turning on the lights, you winced at how the white tiles reflected the brightness. Bracing yourself on the sink counter, you met your own eyes in the mirror. To say you look awful would be a massive understatement. You had a rather big cut on your cheek that you didn't even know was there before now, droplets of blood and dust covered a good part of your skin, your hair all over the place, and not even counting how your whole body was complaining in pain.
You definitely needed a vacation.
Eddie slowly appeared behind you, brown eyes finally being able to find yours through the mirror. You saw how his hand reached out for you, and how he pulled it back before he could touch you.
"Are you- are you okay?"
And his voice was so gentle, so soft that you wanted to grab him and not let go, ever. You closed your eyes, lowering your head with a sigh and gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles turned white.
Eddie shuffled, now standing beside you. He was confused, worried. His body was screaming at him to just hold you, but now, he was afraid of overstepping. "Are we just… not gonna talk?"
"Just sit down." You told him, voice steady.
He nodded, gulping down his feelings as he sat on the edge of the tub and you grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink.
You opened the small box, rummaging through mainly for antiseptics and bandages. You silently motioned for him to take off his shirt.
Eddie tried to do it on his own, but when the movement of raising up his arms elicited more than one pained grunt from him, you stepped in, carefully lifting his shirt above his head.
Seeing the gashes on his skin got your breath stuck in a massive lump in your throat. It wasn't too bad, but there was still blood and he was still hurt. In the back of your mind, you thought about the first time you answered him on the walkie.
"We can count this as progress right?" Eddie tried, a tender smile gracing his lips, his eyes looking up at you with blown pupils. "Last time you were giving me instructions, now you get to do it yourself." Apparently, he remembered it too.
His words made the tiniest smile come to you, which made his only get bigger.
You treated Eddie's wounds with the utmost care. Cleaning them up the best you could and closing the bigger gaps with white bandages that would soon be painted a slight red.
You didn't notice the unsteadiness of your hands, how they shook over his wounds; or the permanent frown on your eyebrows, or the lone tear that escaped your eye and slid down your cheek when Eddie hissed when you touched a particularly sensitive spot on his skin.
Eddie noticed.
Leaving the small cut on his jaw for last, you crouched in front of him, biting the inside of your cheek and raising a hand to clean his face.
Eddie's gaze was heavy, dark eyes fixated on you. You could see the turmoil going on inside his head.
He winced slightly when the wet cloth made contact with his skin, you mumbled an apology. Being so concentrated on what you were doing, you jumped a little when you felt his fingers gently grazing your cheek, over the dried tear track.
A shaky exhale passed through your nose, you met his eyes and saw they were glistening under the bathroom lights; swimming in the feelings he kept guarded inside his chest.
"Talk to me sweetheart, what's wrong?" Eddie asked tentatively, dry lips hanging open, waiting for an answer that never came. "Please." He tried again, quieter.
As much as you might want to, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You let your hand fall to your lap, avoiding his eyes, you were basically sitting on the floor now.
Eddie pushed a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes roamed your face for a minute and then he was standing up and left the bathroom.
You frowned, but didn't follow after him. You heard as he walked back, your back was still turned to the door and you focused on the sound of his movements.
Eddie sat down against the wall to your right, hissing sharply at the cold tiles, his knees tucked close to his chest. Wordlessly, he reached out and gently dropped the walkie-talkie on your lap, before hugging his knees with one hand, the other holding onto his own walkie.
The grey device on your hands was nothing but a blur through your tears.
You heard the familiar crackle and static. You almost broke down then and there.
"I know you don't wanna talk right now, at least not with me. I just hope you know that I'm here, and I'm- I'm gonna be here whenever you feel ready."
You heard his voice, both from the walkie and from right beside you.
"And… I also hope you know that you're like, the most important person in my life, I think you don't even know how much you've helped me. You're the one thing that takes my mind off of all the bullshit this town has thrown at me… Shit, you make me happy, and maybe you're much more than anything I'd ever deserve; but I'm here for you too, so if you could just- just give me a sign that you're okay, I'll give you peace, or space, or whatever you need. I just need to know if you're okay, please."
Eddie finished, voice growing quieter by the end. He let go of the button on his walkie, making the device sizzle with static.
The tears in your eyes were on the brink of spilling over, chest impossibly tighter. You chanced a glance to the side, to him.
Some tears clung to Eddie's eyelashes, and a few others made their way down, collecting on the end of his chin or stopping at the corner of his lips. His eyes were pleading, burning a hole through your soul.
Running your tongue over your lips, you carefully raised the walkie to your lips. You pressed the button, hesitating only a split second.
"I'm okay, as… okay as one can be after that, but…" You started slowly, each word following a beat of your heart. "Damn it, Eddie, I thought I lost you."
Throwing away the walkie-talkie, you turned your body to him. "Do you have any idea, of the panic I felt when you cut that damn rope? What were you even thinking?"
Eddie put down his own walkie, opening his mouth to answer. You didn't let him;
"It was so- reckless." You uttered out shakily, running a hand through your hair, brows scrunched in anger. "I mean you- you could have fucking died for those damn things if I hadn't gotten there in time, and for what? A little extra time?"
You didn't register you were crying, you didn't register the sobs; and when Eddie reached a hand out for you, you slapped it away. "You don't get to tell me to be careful, or- or say that you can't lose me when you do stuff like that. This goes both ways for fucks sake." Your tone was louder, wobbly, mixed with sobs and tears as you groaned in frustration and hastily wiped your cheeks.
You only noticed that Eddie had successfully managed to grab you when you were pressed against his warm chest. Your head tucked against his neck as both his arms closed around you tightly. Both your legs became a mess of tangled limbs, Eddie lowered his lips to the crown of your head, squeezing you to him and mumbling countless "I'm sorry" and "I'm here" and "it's okay".
His skin was warm under your hands. Your ear, resting just above his heart, allowed you to hear the constant thudding; the reassuring sound slowly but surely calming your trembling body and ragged breathing.
"I never wanted to hurt you. Promise." Eddie spoke against your skin, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your body. "I- when I saw the bats, breaking through the door, all I cared about was keeping you safe. I knew I had to draw them away from you and Dustin. Maybe it was selfish but, I couldn't risk them getting through that thing to reach you."
Shaking your head, you pulled away only enough to look at him. Finally being able to take him in, he was just as much of a mess as you were. The sight made you chuckle.
Eddie felt his heart bursting with warmth at the sound of your laugh, a small smile coming to him as well.
You reached up, thumb carefully tracing the outline of his lower lip, engraving the image of him to your heart forever. He leaned towards your touch. You almost kissed him.
"Just, please promise me you won't do anything this reckless ever again."
Eddie hummed, his hands around your waist tentatively pulling you towards him. "For you, I'd do it again in a heartbeat." His words held a playful tone, accompanied by a cheeky grin. They also held the truth.
"And I'd go after you in a heartbeat." You raised an eyebrow at him, your hand burying in his hair.
"Good, then we got each other's backs on our reckless decisions," Eddie mumbled, his breath ghosting over your lips.
He glanced down to your lips with a silent question, a plea. You answered by closing the gap between you, both hands cradling the back of his head and pulling him to you desperately, urging for closeness.
Here, with your body flush to Eddie's, his lips mapping yours in a motion of love; you couldn't be happier for having stumbled upon him on that dead channel.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this story. It was one that took weeks of writing, rewriting, and editing, so feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated so I can keep bringing you these stories. <3
Eddie’s taglist: @alicefallsintotherabbithole @boooil @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @daph-505 @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @hehehehannahthings @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @palah @witchbinchstories
@call-me-magpie @loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @ribyourtoplip @sweetpeapod @harringt8ns @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @linkpk88 @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh
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k-koriikorner · 2 months
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A day's never truly over -Snippet
Author's Note: I was inspired by @deadghosy's Dogday reader oneshots. Reader is gender neutral, has Dogday's appearance but no alluding to eye color, hair color, body type or height to help the reader immerse themselves into the story as much as possible. Reader is a Dominion! Angel, who overhears Charlie's conversation with Adam about the hotel. Adam panics about reader telling everyone about the exterminations so they throw you out of heaven. You aren't a fallen angel because you weren't banished to hell but you currently have no way to get back to heaven.
Warnings: Gender Neutral Reader, Angel!Reader, Swearing
Word Count: 1,744
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You are a dominion angel, essentially the mediator for the highest ranking angels to carry out the plans to the lower ranks. Your class of angels are considered heavenly governors, attempting to strike a balance between matter and spirit, good and bad. You receive orders from seraphim and cherubim, then dish out duties to the "worker bee" angels of the lower orders. Your main purpose is to make sure that the cosmos remains in order by sending down power to heads of government and other authority figures.
You were eavesdropping on Adam, Lute, and Charlie’s conversations but you were originally in the office to deliver some papers to Adam. You overheard the conversations and were trying to be quiet but you accidentally stumbled into the room during Adam’s song. You face planted into the floor, a small arf escaping you. The music stopped abruptly as Adam stopped playing his instrument, and all eyes turned to you as you slowly got off the floor, papers scattered and brushed yourself off. You locked eyes with Adam, a relatively sad expression on your face.
“Are-are you really supporting genocide? I-i actually think her idea could save people’s lives, why-why does anyone have to get hurt?” Your ears drooped slightly in sadness at the thought of all the lost souls. Adam and Lute look at you like you’ve caught them red handed and before you can speak again Adam begins singing about moving up the extermination to six months, and grabs you and Charlie’s arm before throwing you both out of the office.
“Wait-!” Charlie tries to move back towards the door, at least to ask for a second change but she stumbles and she holds her leg in pain. You stay in your place, where you landed, a horrified expression on your face as you take in everything that just transpired.
You slowly rise to your feet, and take small caution steps towards the door. You raise your right paw, orange fur and paw pads connecting with the door. Charlie looks up at you, partially forgetting you were beside her, but curious as to what you were doing. You summoned a small amount of your angelic power and noticed that a divine seal was placed back on the door so there was no way for you to get back in, not without the castor’s permission.
Your ears flattened again your head, as you held your head down in shame. Your shoulders shake in anger as your wings flair up and your ears pin back. You look down at Charlie with a determined look on your face, "We have to prove them all wrong."
----
As you and Charlie made your way to hell, you had the chance to properly introduce yourself. She talked to you and explained her plans to rehabilitate people through her hotel. Since you were an angel, and a higher ranking one at that, she believed that they'd have a much higher chance of success with you on their side.
“I had no idea they were doing this, regardless of whether or not these people ended up here because of their actions…every soul is valuable and should be cherished.” You frown, your ears drooping for umpteenth time today. “That’s what I tried to explain to Adam, if we could save even a few souls down here…shouldn’t we try?” Charlie turns to you, a sorrowful yet determined expression on face.
“No one in history has even succeeded once they’ve given up, if we can show them that your plan could save even one soul. They’d have no choice but to back you up!” You jump in the air, your wings fluttering slightly. You enjoyed helping people, that was your whole purpose and you wouldn’t make it any different being down here. You fully believed in Charlie’s cause and wanted to see it succeed in helping people more than anything.
“That’s the spirit!..Hey, I-i’m really sorry that you got kicked out of heaven, but I’m really happy you agreed to help me.” The tone between you both becomes somber, as you take the time to really understand your situation. You place a paw on Charlie’s shoulder, a happy smile on your face.
“It may not have been under the…best circumstances, but I’m happy that I have the opportunity to help you in your quest to help more people.” Charlie looks at you with teary eyes and she pats your hand which still rests on her shoulder. You both made it to the hotel, a hopeful smile on your face as you decided to try and stay positive.
The white haired woman gasped at the sight of you. Two pairs of cloud white wings, and the white robe with golden accents, no one could deny that you were unmistakably an angel. "Charlie...they listened, I'm so proud of you!" The woman pulled Charlie into a hug, not paying attention to the nervous expression on her face.
"Yeah, um this is [Name], they're a Dominion Angel who's agreed to help with our cause!" Charlie turned to face you, a wonky smile on her face. While it wasn't an absolute lie, you were glad she hadn't flat out said that you were unofficially kicked out of heaven. "It's nice you meet you, my name's Vaggie. Oh come here, we have something exciting to show you!" Vaggie greets you briefly before pulling Charlie further into the building, with you in tow.
The group of people sitting in front of the television turns to look at you all entering the living room, and you couldn't pretend to not see the baffled expressions on some of their faces."Holy shit, she really did it!" Angel Dust comments, not fully believing that an Angel was standing before him, and a non-exorcist one at that.
"Well would you look at that," Husk comments, a barely noticeable smirk on his face. Charlie and Vaggie stood beside you as you greeted everyone, "It's so nice to meet you, I hope I can work hard and help you all make it to heaven!" Charlie smiles at you in appreciation before she and Vaggie pull you towards the couch to watch their commercial. "Alastor pulled some strings and it's about to air."
"I pulled a few limbs too, hahaha!" Alastor interjects, a proud smile on his usual smiling face. Charlie looks at Vaggie, a surprised look on her face. "Wait, the commercial? You all made a new one?" You both look down at Angel Dust, who's sitting on the floor beside your legs, a confident expression on his face as he boasts."Yeah, one of my better performances if I do say so myself." Charlie beams brightly as she's nearly brought to tears by the knowledge that everyone had put in the work to make a new and improved version of their ad.
"That's... that's amazing." Angel raises an arm towards her face, prompting silencing her, albeit slightly rude in your opinion. "Sshh, it's starting." You turn your attention to the television in front of you all, as you see everyone in nicer clothes and standing at the entrance of the hotel.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel-" Vaggie on the television is abruptly cut off as the tv turns to the news. Everyone in the room except to Alastor and Nifty groan and complain, Vaggie and Angel in their respective languages. A frown pulls at your face, and your ears droop at the sight of the channel being changed before the commercial even started.
A spider demon with a blond bob cut, and another demon with a face mask on, seemingly news anchors show up on the screen. The names 'Katie Killjoy' and 'Tom Trench' under the respective persons as the woman begins to speak. "Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next Extermination is happening sooner than ever before. Do you know what that means,Tom?" Although the woman is smiling, you can sense the sarcasm in her voice and the seething rage in this woman's soul.
You frown lightly, hoping that she's one of the people you can help be redeemed. "No, what does that mean, Katie?" He asks, shaking his head mockingly. Katie places her hands onto the desk and leans closer to the camera, her left eye twitching in irritation. "It means we're all royally fucked!" The sounds of screams fill the rooms from the tv, making you shrink into the sofa, as the countdown goes from 358 to 176. Angel seems to be the only one able to speak as everyone else is either stunned into silence or unbothered, "Wait, what? Why?!" Angel scoffs and raises his hand in the air, clearly exasperated.
[Cuts to Adam and Lute]
“And what do we do about the [Name] situation?” Lute turns towards her boss, after their discussion about the dead exorcist. Although she was somewhat disapproving about sending you down to Hell, she knew that they couldn’t risk you telling anyone else about the Exterminations. Plus she knew it was either that or killing you, and you both had a relatively cordial relationship.
“Who the hell is that?” Adam asks, promptly not paying attention to the conversation anymore, too busy scrolling on his phone.
“[Name] sir, the Dominion Angel who came in on the meeting earlier? Who we threw down to hell to prevent the secret getting out.” Lute keeps a level voice, sometimes she just couldn’t with her boss. Adam’s face flashes in realization as she remembers tanking your arm and throwing you out the office with Charmander or whoever that girl was.
“Ohh that bitch…tell anyone who asks that she’s gone on a spiritual retreat to Neptune, it’s what that little asshole gets for eavesdropping. Oh, and get Josiah to replace her, he may be a cuck bitch but he’s the closest we’ll get to [Name]’s standards.”
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Replay | ateez x reader
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Pairing: pirate!ateez x adventurer!reader
Genre: adventure, fantasy, time travel, poly
Warnings: mention of a panic attack, mention of a sharp object.
Word Count: 1475 words
Summary: You're given a second chance to change things. But will you go or stay?
a/n: hello hello! welcome to my first one-shot! (but not really hehe) if you're new and found my account for the first time, I hope you enjoy my stories and it's really wonderful to have you here! :) In an update a while ago, I mentioned that I currently have a plethora of story ideas that I would love to develop into a full-length series one day, but for now, in order to not overwhelm myself, I will be posting these stories as one-shots/imagines so that I can share it with all of you and come back to it later on! This is my first one inspired by Marry My Husband and set in a world like the Choices' game Blades of Light and Shadow! Let me know what you think and happy reading! <3
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You're standing at the plank, back against the sea, tears streaming down your face. You refuse to look up at your lovers. There's a rollercoaster of emotions going on inside you, ranging from pain, hurt and betrayal to anger. 
They chose her over you, believed her melodious and cunning lies, and expect you to apologize to her. You're not looking up but from under your eyes, you can see her figure cozying up next to Wooyoung's. He's telling her not to cry, wiping away those crocodile tears in contrast to your real ones. 
Raw rage is slowly thrumming through your veins and resentment is coiling in your stomach as a vortex of anger gradually swirls inside. You've had enough honestly and you were no longer going to bend to anyone.
"Just apologize Y/N." Hongjoong remarks in a cold and distant voice.
His sword is right in front of you, barring you from getting off the plank.
"For what?" you respond icily,  "I've done nothing wrong."
Hongjoong grumbles under his breath and another person steps in, you recognize its Seonghwa by his boots.
"Please Y/N, don't be childish. Aera is younger than you, she needs us to look after her. You can't get jealous so easily."
Jealous. Such a funny word coming out of your lover's mouth. It's hypocritical rather, because your eight lovers lose it over the slightest glance someone casts in your direction.
You find it ridiculous.
The girl weasled her way onto the ship, and you had a bad feeling about it since day one. But you didn't think it would come to this. 
Love. That's all you ever wanted, and you found it in these eight men, who you had been with since the age of 16. They loved you more than anything, at least, that's what they said.
The only thing you want more than anything right now is to go back and choose differently. 
"I—" you declare, "I hope in my next life, true love finds me."
"Y/N what—" Yunho begins but you cut him off.
"I hope I meet someone who truly loves me and I hope it isn't any of you." 
You raise your head and look at Hongjoong directly in his eyes. He's taken aback at that cold and empty look in yours. He can see the wheels turning in your head but he’s not sure what you’re planning.
"Traitor." You verbalize before running into his sword.
"NO!" All eight voices ring out.
Shouts and screams erupt from all eight men as your blood begins to stain Hongjoong’s sword.
"Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Hongjoong screams.
You pull away and stumble backward towards the edge. San tries to reach for you but you pull your hand away and fall into the sea.
You're thinking this is where your story ends but actually dear one, this is only the beginning.
-
You startle out of your trance. You're in the fortune teller's shop. Blinking around haphazardly, you try to zero-in on your surroundings. Memories flood into your mind as you recognize where you are. This is the shop you visited when you were in the town of Maverick - it would be a month before everything happens.
You're dumbstruck by what just happened. Just moments ago, you were on the plank, ran yourself into Hongjoong’s sword and fell into the cold raging sea. Now, sitting in front of you, the elderly tarot reader draws some cards and gives you a reading.
"You're in for a big change dearie. I see the wheel of fortune is in your favour but be warned, the justice card reversed suggests there is dishonesty somewhere. "
“And this one?” you ask, pointing to the death card.
“In its upright position, it reveals that beginnings and change is expected. You’re nearing the end of a cycle.”
You don't ask for a further explanation, you pay and leave, walking back to the tavern where the boys are currently in. But as you walk out the shop's door, it begins to rain.
No...
Immediately, memories rush into your mind as you recall the timeline of events. It will rain and then the dam that's near the town will break, unleashing a flood. Aera is already with you all, the boys bringing her back home to her father after she got herself caught up with some misfits. But when the flood hits, everyone will scamper and she will come back with you all, joining the crew and then ruining everything you had with the boys.
Reaching the tavern, you watch from outside: all the boys are sitting around a table while Aera's father brings another round of drinks, and says something to Hongjoong. Aera stands at the far back of the room but you can tell there is something on her mind, that dubious and suspicious glint in her eyes. Her father walks back, she asks him something and then he scolds her before walking away. She balls her fists but then regains her composure before hopping over to your boys.
Previously, none of this had happened, as far as you remembered. After visiting the tarot reader, you waltzed into the tavern, pecked San and Jongho on the cheeks before placing yourself next to Yeosang who drew you closer to sit on his lap, his arm around you bringing you in closer. Aera did not come and sit with you all.
This time you hesitate entering the tavern, wondering if wandering around, accidentally getting lost or going the other way would be better. 
Love. That's all you ever wanted and you thought it would be with these eight boys. Now, you weren't so sure.
Little did you know, this moment of hesitation will change the course of your life. As you continue to think about your next course of action, a figure runs into you, bringing you down with him.
"What the—" Before you can even question, the figure jolts up, ready to run again. But you're quick on your feet too, and you grab the person by their wrist.
"Now wait a minute Mister," you begin but you're cut off by shrill shouts.
"There he is! Get him!"
You turn to the voices but before you can look at the person, he grabs your hand and pulls you with him. 
You have no idea why you're even running with him. You're strong enough to break free and go your merry way but as you study his back, you're intrigued — this black hair guy has a pretty feathered twist in his hair and silver dangle earrings. Something about him entices you.
He leads you down an alleyway, over a wall and then into an open field. The next thing you knew, you are on top of a hill that overlooks the town. He brings you behind a tree and you rest against the bark, trying to regulate your breath. The stranger crouches down attempting to do the same.
"You're insane." You remark.
"Yeah well, you were slowing me down so I had to bring you with me if I wanted to get away."
He doesn’t seem dangerous but rather, very amiable. The rain has stopped and there is only a slight drizzle, but from on top of the hill, you can see the dam that’s about to burst.
"No...the dam..." you mutter in-between breaths.
The stranger turns to the dam’s direction and his eyes widen. The dam erupts and rains down like a waterfall. You watch in fear and fright at the sight and your mind races to the boys, but deep down you know that they'll escape. 
But this time, you're not with them. You're with this stranger, now apart from them. 
"Hey are you okay?"
There's a wave of emotions and you feel yourself spiralling into panic. Your heart pounds in your chest and a familiar grip of fear tightens your chest, each breath of yours shallower than the last. Suddenly, the stranger holds you gently, looking at you with a reassuring calmness.
"Hey, don’t look there, look at me okay? Deep breaths, you can do it, take your time and follow me."
You do as you're told, the stranger running soothing circles on your forearms provides a sense of comfort and relief, and after a few minutes you finally compose yourself, staring out at the now submerged town. It's heartbreaking. 
"Where are you going to go?" he asks.
"I don't know." You answer.
The stranger hums and thinks for a minute before getting up and stretching out his hand for yours.
"Let's get going together then."
You're taken aback by his boldness but fascinated and captivated at the same time.
"I don't even know your name." you voice out.
He helps you up and gives you a polite smile, one that is soft and heartfelt.
"Yoonghoon. My name is Kim Yoonghoon."
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callsign-relic · 9 months
Note
Hi Relic!
May I please ask for a Yan!Megatron with a Lost Light human liason who treated him decently because of their morals and ethics. Kind but not naive type. Platonic or romantic whichever vibes with you.
The basic sinario is Megatron returns to the Deceptacons, rescued by his biggest fanboi's unit the DJD and he takes the human liason with him as a pet.
Thank you,
Bookwyrm
Hi Bookwyrm! This was my first yandere request AND first IDW Megs requests, so I was SO excited to build on this combination— and I think it worked out great >:) I hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader, yandere, kidnapping
You were truly fascinating.
The first few days of Megatron’s arrival upon the Lost Light were… uncomfortable, to say the least. The multitude of members of the crew were cautious of the former warlord— and at first, Megatron believed it was reasonably so. He was the former leader of the Decepticons, after all, how was anyone to even begin to consider trusting him after millennia of war? Much less put their faith in him as one of the co-captains. Such treatment left a bitter taste in his intake.
But then, you came along.
As a liaison for the planet Earth, you were well aware of all that Megatron had done. How he almost conquered your planet, destroyed your planet— the whole works. The gray bot was certain that this new guest upon the ship was just another face to avoid looking directly at, if he were to spare himself of whatever fearful or disapproving look awaited him. But as time passed, you proved that would not be the case.
Whenever you spoke with him, you never broke eye contact. You never stumbled over your words, never made an on-the-spot excuse to pardon yourself from the conversation. You were kind, polite, decent— more than you could say for any of the inorganic beings upon the ship.
And that behavior aroused something within the mech’s spark.
Perhaps he was deserving of all the sour looks and poor treatment he got. But if there was something he was more deserving of, it was the chance at redemption. And that was something that only you seemed to be willing to give him.
So, he spent more time with you. As much time as he could. You radiated a kindness that Megatron found himself enamored with— an oasis in a desert whose dry conditions the mech had thought he had accustomed himself to. He carried you around in his servos or on his shoulder almost at all times, and to his relief, you never seemed to mind. You never noticed the split second of hesitation that crossed his mind when you asked him to place you down, the ache in his spark that waxed and waned the longer he saw you away from his grasp.
It took everything Megatron had within him to put you down. To let you, the one being who had given him a chance from the beginning, go off on your own.
One day, while you were riding upon his shoulder as he kindly offered to bring you where you needed to go, he had asked you why. Why were you so kind to him, even when he was just about the last mech to ever deserve it? And the way you offered a little chuckle before you spoke made his spark dance in its chamber. “Because,” you had answered in that honey-sweet tone of yours, “I think everyone at least deserves a second chance.”
No one else deserved you. You were so kind it was cloying, yet it was a flavor that Megatron never wanted to forget. He needed it all for himself, and he knew you wanted him too. Why else would you keep spending time with him, if that wasn’t the case?
So when alarms began blaring and warning lights started flashing all over the ship, Megatron wasn’t worried. Well, he was— in the sense that he didn’t know where exactly you were while the ship fell into chaos— but he trusted in the plan he had long since formulated in his helm if a situation like this were ever to arise.
You, meanwhile, were racing through the massive steel halls. Heart pounding in your chest, adrenaline seemingly being the only thing keeping you on your feet right now— you frantically looked to and fro for some kind of hiding place.
You had been told about the Decepticon Justice Division, but outside of the fact that they seemed to be Megatron’s biggest fan club, you really weren’t sure what to expect. But if the sounds of screams and a distant melody was anything to go off of, you at least knew you needed to find someplace to hide and keep yourself safe. As much as it has pained you to sit back and do nothing, you were well aware that, unfortunately, you were the person least capable of helping in this situation. Getting in the way would have done more harm than good.
Eventually, you found yourself in one of the lower engine rooms— a mess of cables and wires strung along the inside of one of the wall panels acting as your hiding place for the time being. Despite you trying to focus on your breathing— anything to calm you down— the earth beneath you trembled rhythmically and the wires around shook in time with it.
Someone was coming.
You tried to bury yourself deeper into the cabling, but eventually the wires became too tight for you to slip through. The most you could do was hide behind a wire and hope it was wide enough to cover you.
As the sound of metal shifting on metal rang ever louder in your ears, you raced through the possibilities in a panic. Was it Kaon? Helex? Oh god, please don’t let it be Tarn—
A shadow finally cast itself over you, and you dared to peek your head around the corner.
A wave of relief washed over you as you were met with a familiar black pede. It was just Megatron. He must have been looking for you to see if you were safe.
“Megatron!” You exclaim, breathing a sigh of relief. “It’s just me. Go, help Rodimus and the others. I’m safe here, I’ll be fine. Find me back here when it’s all over.”
But the mech did not reply. The dark crimson pools of his optics gazed down at you with an expression you weren’t sure you could read. A nervous smile crept onto your face and, in an effort to encourage him to go on and help the crew, you tried hiding behind the wiring again. “I’ll be okay, I promise. We have you to help protect us, after all.”
There was another clanging of metal, the sound of a bot’s hydraulics shifting as they’d move their joints, but it wasn’t growing more distant as you expected. It got closer, and it was only when you caught a split second of his dark servo approaching you that you realized Megatron had knelt down to your level and reached for you.
Digits longer than your own body wrapped themselves around your form, and you’re lifted high into the air. You call out Megatron’s name, trying to get his attention as the pressure of his servo around you begins to crush you in its tight grip. But he doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even cast a glance towards you.
You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he knew a safer spot, and was bringing you over there himself. But even if that was the case, it didn’t explain why he was being so forceful with you. The warlord walked briskly out of the engine room and turned down the hallway—
Towards where the DJD had broken in.
Every instinct in your body activated all at once, and you started to struggle beneath the massive mech’s hold. You tried your best to wiggle your torso, kick your legs, anything— but his grip around you was much too tight for you to do anything significant against. With how he didn’t even look at you, you weren’t even sure he was noticing your rash moments, your cries for help.
But he was. As Megatron stormed towards the DJD’s ship as it awaited him, it tore him apart to see you so stressed. But the mech knew what he was doing was the right thing. You were so kind to him, you didn’t deserve to run and hide. You didn’t deserve to be at the mercy of such a brutal group of mechs. You deserved a good life, one that only Megatron could provide for you, under his constant watch and protection.
You had spared Megatron from living a torturous existence. Now, he was simply returning the favor. You would be just as grateful to him as he was to you, and he knew you’d eventually come around to see that.
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 6 months
Note
Hello 🤗 Can you please write part 2 of bale batman with assistant reader headcanons where he was in love with her but hasn't confessed yet and gets jealous when she pays attention to someone else? Thank you ❤️
Of course, lovely anon!! <3
A/N: more Bale!Bruce!!! I love writing for him, thank you so much for requesting <3 I might have little surprise planned for all of the Bale!Bruce lovers hehe 👀
~Fi 🐝
Part 1 ♡
Bruce secretly being in love with assistant!reader ♡
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◇First of all,
◇We all know his smooth talking is immaculate, he's Gothams playboy, a flirting legend.
◇With you, though?
◇Yeah, no chance.
◇He's stumbling over his words, blushing.
◇He's a mess, basically.
◇Because he actually cares what you think. He wants to impress you, not with his money or status, but with his personality.
◇That has never happened before. It scares him a little, but he can't help but smile a bit at your influence on him.
◇Also, he cannot stop looking at you. He's admiring you every second.
◇He doesn't get any work done, he almost messed up the biggest deal Wayne Enterprises had ever gotten just because he thinks you're pretty.
◇In his mind, you're already married and have 3 kids together.
◇He probably bought the ring already.
◇Bruce regularly buys you flowers, expensive chocolates, like he does not hold back.
◇But, he is very possessive, you're his, whether you know it or not.
◇He's very convinced you love him too, why would you smile at him so sweetly, or always make sure he's okay if you weren't?
◇He would never make you uncomfortable or cross any boundaries but god, he would have you sit on his lap every single day if he could.
◇Everything's going well, he watches you from afar, his eyes are basically hearts at this point.
◇That is until he sees you talking to some guy named Jake, who apparently also works here, and he makes you laugh just a little too much for Bruce's taste.
◇He should be the one making you laugh and smile like that, not some guy who's been trying to get in your pants for months now.
◇You don't get the hint though, you just think Jake is a nice bloke who's actually interested in working here, and with you.
◇Bruce sees through that immediately and it makes him scowl.
◇Why would anyone do that to you? You're so lovely and perfect, that Jake fella doesn't appreciate you. He doesn't deserve you.
◇Bruce knows he's better in every way, he could buy you whatever you want, you'd never have to work again, but most importantly, he would love you.
◇Truly love you, like a beautiful woman like you deserves.
◇He definitely intimidates and threatens Jake behind your back. He would love to do it in front of you, but he's worried he'll scare you away.
◇Bruce makes a final statement by moving your desk into his office permanently.
◇Jake still tries to get laid, and Bruce is about to actually punch this fucker if he doesn't stop.
◇Apparently threatening to fire him didn't do the trick.
◇He calls Jake to his office once you're on your lunch break and just straight up tells him that you're his and that if he doesn't stop trying to fuck his woman, there will be unpleasant consequences.
◇"Hey Bruce, have you seen Jake lately?"
◇"Hm? Oh, he moved so he had to quit."
◇He's so in love with you it's actually insane.
◇He's so bad at hiding it too, it's like all those years of playboy experience disintegrate once he sees you smile.
◇He lays in his bed at night, thinking what it would be like of you were there with him.
◇Then, the images of you talking to other men and smiling take over his mind and his blood is boiling.
◇You're not allowed to talk to any other men besides Alfred, Lucius and Gordon.
◇Would he ever tell you or act on that?
◇Absolutely not, he know he doesn't own you.
◇He'd just preferred it if you didn't.
◇He snapped one time and kissed you in front of the whole company. It was a rough and hungry kiss, but it didn't lack gentleness.
◇Bruce disappeared into a hole of shame for a week. He definitely crossed a line, he shouldn't have done that.
◇He has to come back to work at some point, so he does but he immediately wants to sink into the ground once he sees you.
◇That's until he sees you.. smiling?
◇You're all excited to see him back and you tell him that you missed him and he caves.
◇He confesses his love to you in a 10 minute rant about how amazing and perfect you are (and how stupid Jake was) and you're just standing there dumbfounded.
◇Yeah, he kissed you, but given his past you didn't actually think that kiss meant anything to him.
◇It meant the world to him and he literally couldn't stop thinking about it. Or you, for that matter.
Some NSFW~
◇He also had this dark and twisted fantasy of fucking you in front of everyone so they'd see you're his and no one else's.
◇He's a little ashamed to think of you like that, but he can't deny that the thought gets his dick hard.
◇When a some guy checks you out on the street, you're in for something.
◇He won't ever, ever take it out on you because how is that your fault that some men are pigs?
◇He'd make you come extra hard, just so you know he's the one who made you feel that good and, come on now, those other dudes could never make you feel like this.
◇He definitely needs you to tell him that you're his, despite his confidence I believe he's a little insecure just because he never had anything real before.
◇Bruce is on his knees, eating you out until you see stars and he looks up at you and just asks "you're mine, right?"
◇low key gets kinda subby, he needs you to assure him so bad.
◇You're just nodding eagerly because that's all you can muster the way he's fucking his tongue into you.
◇"Good."
◇It's a low vibration in his throat and all that insecurity and unsureness just evaporates.
◇He's always so loving during sex, especially after incidents, like this one.
◇You're both smiling and making each other feel good and loved, and he's definitely the one for you, as you are for him <3
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I looked through the Bale!Bruce tag and.... it's so dead :( I'M SORRY FOR NOT WRITING MORE SOONER, I HAVE MORE PLANNED VERY SOON!! <33
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brownbearwrites · 1 year
Text
stay here by my side (pt. 2)
read part one here!
pairing: atwow!neteyam x omatikaya!reader neteyam and the reader carry out their plan to mate, and find themselves re-experiencing their almost-forgotten memories word count: 1.8k notes: I was so blown away with the response I received to the first part of this series, that I wrote this second part faster than I've ever written anything before, haha! I've been thinking about continuing this story even beyond this part, and maybe even making it span for the entirety of atwow. would you guys be interested in that? please let me know, and I truly hope you'll enjoy this part!
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The fallen leaves crunch under your feet as you and Neteyam make your way through the forest, the stars above you illuminating your path to the Tree of Voices. His hand is warm and solid against yours, the gentle squeeze of his fingers a silent sign of reassurance. The two of you had decided that there was no time to wait. You were to bond before Eywa tonight. This way, there would be no possibility of Neteyam’s family getting wind of the plan—after all, the thing you wanted least of all was for them to find out, and prevent you from joining them on their voyage.
In front of you, Neteyam brushes aside a low-hanging tree branch, finally revealing the awe-inspiring Tree of Voices to your eyes. You feel your breath momentarily catch in your chest as you take in the view, your feet slowing to come to a stop. No matter how many times you visit this place, it never becomes less impressive to you. Neteyam turns his head to face you, a sudden flash of worry gracing his features. 
“Are you still sure about this?” he asks you.
You look up at him, a warm smile on your face. Leave it to Neteyam to worry about you even in moments like these, when you’re more confident in your actions than you’ve ever been before.
“I am,” you answer him truthfully, “there is nothing in this world that I want more than to be your mate. If we are right, and Eywa grants us our wish, I will be the luckiest girl in all of Pandora. Of course, I’m a little scared of what is to come. But I know that, whatever may happen, we’ll be able to overcome it together. As we always have done”.
The corners of Neteyam’s mouth quirk up at these words. You have to push down the urge to cry when you see the look of utter love and adoration which has formed on his face. By Eywa, you think, he becomes more gorgeous every day.
The two of you gingerly make your way closer to the Tree of Voices, its bioluminescent light bouncing off of your skin as you tread the thick roots which lead to the center of the tree. The plants beneath your feet light up in a gentle green glow. You find yourself giggling as you hop from place to place, your feet filling the spots that Neteyam’s had just lifted from. At the sound of your antics, he turns around. Laughing, he takes a handful of large steps backward, increasing the distance between his footsteps to the point where you are forced to jump to close the distance. For a while you are successful, but your legs tire quickly, and you eventually stumble. Neteyam’s warm hand encircles your upper arm, preventing you from falling.
“Careful, my love”, he softly warns you.
Before long, you find yourselves in the midst of the neural queues of the tree. Neteyam trails his hand through a cluster of them, the lilac glowing tendrils swaying from the movement. You watch as he seats himself on the plant-cushioned earth—his large green eyes looking up at you, silently asking you to join him. You sit in front of him, your knees brushing together. For a moment, the two of you just sit in silence as you take in the view surrounding you. You take a deep breath, relishing in the serenity of the moment.
Neteyam rests his hand on your thigh, and you once more return your focus to him. You watch as his other hand reaches to the back of his head, pulling his tsahaylu to rest over his shoulder. You bite your lip to suppress a smile as you follow in his example, holding the very end of your braid between your fingers, feeling the neural tendrils within move with the desire to create a bond.
“We can still turn back now,” Neteyam says, though you can clearly hear in his voice how much he does not wish to do so, “We won’t have to live with the knowledge that Eywa has rejected our bond, if she decides to do so. We will save ourselves from this despair”.
“If we do that,” you answer him, “I might live the rest of my life without experiencing Eywa’s disapproval, that much is true. But I will also have to live without you. And there is no despair greater than that”.
At your words, Neteyam leans in, resting his forehead against yours. You can hear yourself beginning to purr, causing Neteyam to let out a breathy chuckle. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, softly kissing your lips. You lean into the kiss, chasing Neteyam’s lips for another peck when he eventually pulls away. You’re both grinning by the end of it, your faces matching in their blushed-purple hue.
“Ready?” you ask, gesturing at your queue.
Neteyam gives you a determined nod, reaching for the end of his braid before bringing it up toward yours. You watch as the tendrils of your respective queues reach out toward each other, tangling together until they finally become one. The feeling is indescribable. It is as if every single neuron in your body simultaneously comes alive for the very first time. An intense warmth fills you from within, relaxing your muscles as if you had been dunked into a hot spring. Your vision blurs and you feel yourself instinctually reaching out to clasp onto Neteyam—your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you bury your head to rest in the crook of his neck, gasping at the unfamiliar feeling. Neteyam’s arms snake their way around your middle, his fingers digging into the flesh of your lower back.
For a second, it is as if you had lost all of your senses—silent darkness enveloping your entire being. Your initial instinct is to panic, to fight against this all consuming nothingness which you now find yourself wrapped up in. You feel your legs twitching, the urge to yell out to the world growing in your throat. 
But then, breaking through it all, you feel a small hand grabbing hold of your own, it’s grip strong and resolute. You feel yourself blink, your unprepared eyes squinting against bright sunlight when you open them again. Suddenly, you’re no longer seated underneath the Tree of Voices anymore, with Neteyam’s arms wrapped around you. Instead, you’re on the bank of a river, a seven-year-old Neteyam tugging you into the water with him. You let out a shriek of laughter, the cool water splashing around your legs.
“Catch me if you can!” Neteyam yells out before darting away from you.
You shake your head in disbelief, but chase after him anyway. Laughter rumbles in your chest, the warm afternoon sun shining on your face. Beneath your feet, you feel sand and small rocks kicking up as you thread the water.
Suddenly, the river is gone. The grassy ground beneath your feet is softer, yet more solid. Neteyam is no longer running ahead of you. Instead, he’s keeping pace with you, his fingers occasionally brushing against yours. He looks to be a few years older, maybe thirteen, at most. The surrounding forest is strewn with flowers; spring appears to be in full bloom. Your feet come to a stop as you crouch down, the beads of your top now pressed up against your knees. Your hands reach out to a small yellow flower, carefully plucking it from the forest floor. You rise back up to your full height, turning to find Neteyam watching you closely. You walk up to him, your free hand coming up to brush the braids near his temple to the side.
“Stay still,” you hear yourself tell him.
You tuck the delicate flower behind his ear, adjusting the braids around it until you’re satisfied with your handiwork. The backs of your fingers graze against the angle of his jaw.
“You look pretty,” you announce to him.
Neteyam’s responding laughter suddenly comes from much closer than you had originally expected it—your head now cushioned on his chest. Your eyes glance about, taking in the domestic interior of the Sully family’s hut. It’s dark, but in the very corner of your vision you can take in the silhouette of a Lo’ak-Kiri-and-Tuk shaped dogpile. A freezing cold breeze washes over your skin, explaining the cause of your shivering form. The memory of this night is much clearer in your memory, resulting in a startling level of familiarity.
“You always do this, my love” you hear Neteyam’s deepened voice exclaim, “the temperature drops just the tiniest bit, and you immediately come over to huddle against me for warmth”.
“I can’t help it that my circulation sucks,” you answer him, pressing your cold toes against the warmth of his shins. “Plus, I enjoy cuddling with you”, you shyly add.
At your words, Neteyam pulls you closer against him, his hands splaying out to cover the exposed skin of your back. The sheer warmth he exudes quickly working to lull you back to sleep. You let out a satisfied sigh, allowing your eyes to fall shut. Below you, you hear the familiar sound of Neteyam’s purring.
“I like cuddling with you, too” Neteyam confesses, causing you to fall back asleep with a soft smile on your face.
When your eyes blink open, you’re almost shocked by the sheer difficulty of such a simple task—it takes a minute before you adjust, the leaden weight of your eyelids slowly dissipating. Before you, Neteyam appears to be experiencing the very same thing, his eyes glassy before they finally seem to zero in on you. The awareness of what had just happened dawns on you very suddenly. You allow yourself to laugh, an immense feeling of relief now washing over you. Eywa had shown you happy memories, beautiful moments which you had shared with Neteyam over the many years you had known him. This could only mean one thing; Eywa approved of your bond.
The next few hours went by in a blur. You remember the sheer glee which flowed through the newly created bond between you and Neteyam—a feeling which, even with its novelty, you welcomed with open arms. You’re aware of the fact that the two of you had shared a passionate kiss, both of you relishing in each other's presence. At some point, the second part of the bonding ritual had begun, causing both you and Neteyam to once more fall into a deep dreamlike state. This time, however, you did not dream of days gone by. Instead, Eywa granted you a peek into what your future might hold; a dizzying show of scenes which you could not yet assemble into a coherent narrative. The only discernible constant through it all is the unyielding presence of your Neteyam by your side—a reality which you accept wholeheartedly, with a grateful smile on your face.
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604to647 · 6 months
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Safest with You - Ch. 2 (The Bookstore)
1.7K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader
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Summary: You run into a familiar stranger at a bookshop after work.
Warnings: None! All fluff: our meet cute continues in a second location.
A/N: Thank you for the kind words and encouragement on Ch. 1 🥹 This takes place at the end of the day following the events of The Coffeeshop (Series Masterlist).There's a Paz mention (he took over from Din as head of security for the Fett family when Din retired), and a Peli mention too! 😊 I didn't set out to do dual POV, but it veered in that direction a little bit - if you have any tips on writing in this style, please do kindly share! Thank you!
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You work late, as usual, and find yourself with just enough time to run across the street to your favourite independent bookstore downtown before heading out to dinner with some friends.  It’s actually such a funny little store to be tucked away amidst all the concrete skyscrapers, but you’re grateful it exists – a friendly, cozy haven that you often find yourself visiting at the end of a long work day.  Today, you’ve come expressly to pick up multiple copies of the latest release in a fantasy series that a few of your dinner friends are reading.  After picking up four copies, you give in to the temptation to look around the shop for something to add to your ever growing TBR pile.
---
Din spots you from his spot in the bookstore window before you even come in.  He’s supposed to be keeping watch for the target in his assigned area, but the truth is he’s been distracted thinking about you all day.  He had noticed you in the coffeeshop this morning even before the kerfuffle with that scrawny punk in the grey suit, but after having spent a little time with you, he hasn't been able to get your pretty smile and sweet voice out of his mind.  He had been touched by the way you took care of an old lady you didn’t even know; but it was after your warmth had radiated to his hand when you had warned him of the sharp porcelain shards, that you truly became unforgettable.  He admired the way you had diffused the situation this morning; not many had the talent to calm and soothe him with a single touch. It was especially striking since he had seen a fiery spark in your eyes when you had admonished that jerk in the grey suit.  The way you could be so sweet, but then tap into such passion at a moment’s notice, had him grinning to himself positive he would not want to get on your bad side. What a woman.
Din watches you bounce into the store and make a beeline for the new releases table.  With amusement, he sees you select multiple copies of the same book, but not before picking up and examining all the copies on the table, and choosing only the ones that pass your careful inspection.  After you disappear between the stacks, Din makes the split second decision to leave his post (he and Paz had planned for multiple sightlines covering each location.  It should be fine.).  Going first to the till to discreetly pay for the books that he saw you pick up, Din then ducks into the back of the store where he saw you wander off to.
He finds you straightening up the piles of books on a table labelled “BookTok Faves” and wonders if you’re organizing a mess you had stumbled upon or one you had created by searching through the copies looking for the “crispiest” covers.  He finds both possibilities to be equally charming.
“Hi.”
You look up, completely taken by surprise to see the handsome Quad Ice stranger from this morning looking at you with an adorable grin, and you can’t help but smile back, “Hi!  It’s you.”
Din chuckles, “Yes, it’s me.”
Right away you think of the events of this morning, “Oh!  Was everything okay with the old lady after I left?”
Din isn’t at all surprised that your first thought is to ask after someone else.  He tells you everything: how he waited with Elizabeth for her cappuccino to be called, how he learned she’s in the city visiting her twin grandchildren (one girl, one boy), and how he saw her to and sat with her at a prime window seat in the coffee shop for a little bit, and that when he left, she was halfway through the delicious coffee cake, which she had insisted he take a bite of.
You delight in these details and you tell him so as you thank him for his thoughtfulness.
“What about you?  How was the rest of your day?”
You note that it’s kind of him to ask and let him know that you had a perfectly lovely day, “…and to think, some spilled coffee on my clothes didn’t make a lick of difference to the people I work with.  Imagine that!”  You have a twinkle in your eye, and Din laughs along with you, not even trying to hide how mesmerized he is by the sound of your giggles.
He points at the stain on your skirt that he remembers seeing this morning and offers, “Well, if you need a good dry cleaner, my friend runs ‘Peli’s Drycleaning’ on 14th.  If you say Din sent you, they might try extra hard not to lose your clothes.”
“Oh!  Thank you!  I have a great relationship with my dry cleaners… I spill a lot,” you joke, “but I appreciate the offer so much …Din.”  You try out his name and find that you love the way it sounds rolling off your tongue; you introduce yourself and give him your hand when he holds out his.  His huge hand completely dwarfs yours, and as he holds your hand for a moment longer than necessary, you feel how strong and rough his palm and thick fingers are and think you might like the feel of his hands even more than the feel of his name.
To snap yourself out of a daydream state that is barreling towards inappropriate thoughts such as where else you might like those hands and fingers, you take the opportunity to thank Din for everything he did this morning.  “Thank you again for all your help this morning; I’m really glad you were there.”
“You look like you had it under control,” Din smiles, but his brow furrows remembering, “but I didn’t like the way that guy spoke to you and Elizabeth.  He was really out of line.  No one should be speaking to anyone else like that.”
“Oh, sadly I feel like that’s more common than it should be around here.  There’s always some puffed up finance guy that thinks he can yell his way to the top,” you roll your eyes.  Over your career you’ve definitely met your fair share of douche bag finance bros; luckily, you’ve also learned that arrogance and false bravado aren’t the only way to get ahead.  You have a feeling that the man standing in front of you is a testament to the fact that strength and authority can come from calm and consideration. “You don’t work around here?” you ask Din.
Din shakes his head, “No, just have a work assignment that has me down here for the day.  I don’t usually come downtown.”  Din light heartedly jokes, “Which is lucky for our coffee-stained friend, you might not be around next time to calm me down if I were to see him again.”
You remember the electricity that had emanated from Din this morning when you had touched his clenched fists and remember the sense of safety you had felt then; you feel it now, just being in his presence.  You give Din a glowing smile, “Well, I hope his meeting went well and that no one noticed his stains, so he was thoroughly ashamed of himself for the rest of the day for the way he acted.”
“You’re much nicer than me.  I have been actively hoping all day that his meeting didn’t go well.”
“Well.  I think you’re very nice,” you look up shyly.
Din smiles back.  How are you so sweet? He is about to ask you if you’re free for dinner, when the phone in his hand buzzes.  He looks down to see a text from Paz that the target has been spotted and the location that everyone needs to converge at now. “Oh.  Shoot. I have to go.  I’m sorry.”
You’re a little surprised by the abrupt end to the conversation, but Din genuinely looks sorry to be leaving, “Of course!  Good luck with.. your thing!  It was nice to see you again.”
“You too.”  Din has already started to move towards the bookstore exit, but he tries to convey his regret at having to leave you with his forlorn expression.  He’s not sure if he will ever see you again, and he swallows the lump in this throat at that thought, doing his best to memorize your pretty face and the sweet way you’re waving goodbye.
After Din leaves you let out a deep sigh.  Would you ever see Din again?  He didn’t work downtown, so your chances of running into him at the coffeeshop or this bookstore again were probably nil. And you didn’t know anything about him other than his first name and the fact that he was kind and funny, with puppy dog eyes you could lost in, and big strong hands that would feel so good around… stop it.  You exhale another melancholy breath and wish you had had a little more time with Din, maybe you could have gotten his number or something.  You resign yourself to having to forget your handsome Quad Ice.
To fill this new emotional void, you add a couple more books to your purchase pile and you make your way over to the cashier.  After she scans your items, she pushes the stack back towards you and says, “It’s all taken care of!”
“I’m sorry, what do you mean?”
“The gentleman who was here earlier paid for your books already.”
Din? “The gentleman?  The one with the dark fluffy hair with greys in it?” You describe what Din was wearing as well, still in disbelief.
“That’s the guy!  He actually gave me a lot more than what’s needed to cover your books, so you can grab some more stuff if you want.  He said to keep paying for people’s books until it ran out, so if there’s anything else you want to get, go ahead.”
“No, that’s ok…I’m sure the next person will appreciate the gesture,” you say, absentmindedly, other thoughts racing through your head, “Wait.. did he leave a number or anything, some way I can contact him to thank him?”
“I actually asked him if wanted to do that, but he said he wouldn’t want you to feel obligated because of the books to call him; he just wants you to enjoy the gift.”  Your breath hitches a little; the cashier notices and says, “I know, right?” She gives you a dreamy look, which you mirror back.
Well so much for forgetting your handsome Quad Ice.
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Thank you for reading! First two lines of Ch. 3 (The Drycleaner):
“He bought you books?!?”
“Well technically, he bought us all books.”
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deadpool15 · 6 months
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Overshadowed Ch.1
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"Hey, look at me. I don't expect you to the most perfect fucking man. There is no such thing. You have scars from the stuff you've been through. It's understandable. I understand you, si-o. I don't want you to change your plans or anything unless you truly want that. I won't expect anything from you except to be honest with me." I slowly clasp my hands upon his face, holding him with my gentle touch to let him know I wouldn't hurt him. After all he has been through, I want him to know I'm the last person who would want to hurt him. "I want you to trust me, I know I must earn your trust, and I will do everything in my power to show you how much I care for you. No more pain, ok? I'm not leaving."
I needed him. For the first time in my life, I had felt like I was wanted, loved. This feeling couldn't be replaced by anything my mother had gifted me over the years to make up for her lack of parenting. Though, I knew si-o had never felt such love either. He was used to pain and resentment. I wanted to be the one who showed him there was more to life than those things. I didn't want to change him. Sure, he had flaws and issues, but I wanted to embrace all of them. They were a part of him, making him who he is today. My father once told me he adorned the villains in fairy tales. Younger me had questioned that for a long time, though know I see it. A hero would sacrifice you for the sake of the world as if you meant nothing. One casualty means nothing compared to thousands, yet a villain would sacrifice the entire world for you. Thinking more about it, why was the villain deemed bad in reality? The hero was selfish, thinking one could have it all with no consequences.
Imagine someone's love for you to be so passionate and devoted that they would sacrifice everything for you without a second thought. I had never seen a love story in real life. My parents went divorced because my mother prioritized work over her family and because my older sister had gone missing in a foreign country. They made it seem like their love died, though I always felt like my father held more love for my mother. My mother cared for nothing but money and having a daughter. She had two, one that possessed the strength of the many generations before her, then there was me. I was adopted at age 2. I can't remember a thing about my biological parents, but I had an amazing relationship with my father. He was the one who loved all of his children equally despite only the three of us having superpowers. In my mother's eyes there was only nam-soon.
Completely neglected by her my entire life. I was invisible, one would say. Whenever she missed a dance rehearsal or important event in my life, she loved to buy gifts. Overly priced gifts, hoping it would make 4 year old me forget that mommy hadn't bothered to show up again because of work. Money was everything to her, and I wasn't. I grew envious of my sister. Of course, I missed her while she was gone, but would it be an evil thing to say a small sick part of me was happy, thinking mother would have no choice but to pay attention to me. I was wrong. Nam-soon this, nam-soon that. Hosting strength competitions and constantly fixing her favorite dishes at dinner. I hated myself, why couldn't I be happy she was back? Why was I so jealous of her? And why can't I make my mom love me?
When I met si-o, all that changed. I had shown up to give nam-soon her lunch for the day. She had been undercover working with some cop she liked, and it was obvious he liked her as well. Now no one in the public knew of me, after nam-soon went missing our parents thought it would be best to shield the world from us. I was known as the spoiled rich daughter of some famous ceo. No one bothered to ask who? I stumbled upon this man, taller than me. Bumping into his chest, which was as far as my head could reach, even in heels. He was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I wanted him to be mine.
Chapter 1: Overshadowed
Chapter 2: To be loved
Chapter 3: You and me
Chapter 4: Second place
Chapter 5: Love is hard
Chapter 6: No matter what
Baily Bass(oc)- Danny
Byeonwooseok-Ryu-si
Other characters are their respective characters.
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biggestxsimps · 1 year
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How about Harry Potter X shark like wizard reader.
Like reader accidentally turned himself into a shark once but couldn't fully turn back, so now he's human with tiny shark features.
Like features like sharp teeth or like webbed fingers.
And it's like really fluffy...
You guys can decide what kinda story since tbh...Idk what to do..
Have a nice day🪻 ( ・∇・)
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Harry Potter x Shark-Like Male Reader Scenarios
A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I’ll admit, it was pretty tough to write this, but I hope it’s alright! Also sorry that it took so long, I’ve been a little busy recently. This is just a few short scenarios put together, I haven't written stuff in this layout before so I hope it’s okay. I just reread the request and omg I forgot to add the fluff.😭
Small mentions of blood! Nothing gorey, just a bit of bleeding.
~~~
Harry's POV:
It was quite normal to see students with extra limbs, animal parts and inhuman features, but usually it was the effect of a spell or potion. So one boy really threw me off, I hadn't seen him around before he introduced himself to me. I thought the gills or the webbed fingers were just a result of something he took. 
But after seeing him around a few more times, I noticed that they hadn’t gone away. I had never seen him without those fish-like features. I’ve seen a lot but this truly puzzled me. 
I had planned on asking him how he’d had gotten them, or if he was born with them. But I barely knew him, I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, or weird him out with my curiosity.
~~~
I was in the Great Hall, eating my dinner when my eyes landed upon the odd boy again. Y/N. I know it’s rude to stare but I couldn’t help it. Once he went to take a bite out of a drumstick, I noticed his incredibly sharp teeth. They savagely ripped through the chicken, cleaning the bone in a matter of seconds, my body shivering at the sight.
That’s when I hear a gasp and a wince. I look back over at the boy, one of his pointy teeth in his right hand, blood slightly dripping from his mouth. The students around him started to worry, he dismissed them, the conversation barley being audible from where I sat.
“Don’t worry, it happens like every other week.”
I watched as his goofy smile grew wider, while he explained to the other students that another tooth would replace it in the matter of a couple days. Wow.
~~~
I had gotten closer to Y/N, we hang out pretty often now. I had invited him to hang out around the castle, it being a weekend, neither of us had all that much to do. I saw him walking from one of the halls, noticing him wearing his own clothes opposed to the school robes I was so used to seeing him in.
We greeted each other as he walked up to me, him asking me to lead the way on our ‘little adventure’ around Hogwarts. I chuckle before starting to walk, my steps stumble as my eyes adjust to the back of his clothes though. I thought it was just my eyes playing a trick on me, but once taking a closer look I realised what I had seen.
A small pointy (S/C) fin protruding from the top of his back. “Are you alright, Harry.” I look over to his face, his lips curved in a confused smile, I quickly nod as I catch back up with him. God, what else was he hiding?
~~~
Y/N and I were going steady now, we’ve been together for about a month now. I had planned on confessing to him during one of our hangouts, but he beat me to it. But it turned out all the same nevertheless. 
Most nights we hang out, whether it be in our common rooms or around the halls, even outside Hogwarts walls. But tonight he told me to meet him at the Great Lake, telling me had something he wanted to show me. I’d never been a fan of the lake but it wasn’t like there was any harm in going.
So that’s what I was doing now, making my way to the Great Lake. It wasn’t long until I saw Y/N in the distance, sitting just behind the water with his arms wrapped around his legs. His head turns back at the sound of my approaching steps, a bright smile appearing on his face as he greeted me. 
“G’ Evening, Love.” He lifts himself up, dusting the back of his pants before walking towards me. “Evening Y/N.” I smile up at the gushing boy in front of me. “You brought your swimsuit, yeah?” I nod. “Yeah, just like you asked.” I feel my smile widen looking at him, his own being too contagious.
“Alright, alright. Come in with me.” I watch as he pulls off his shirt, his fin slightly getting in the way, before diving into the lake. I follow his actions, making my way to the water as he swims around, waiting for me. 
I swim my way to him, far enough for the lake to be moderately deep before he swims around me, after a couple laps he dives into the water. I look around, waiting for him to pop back up, but he never does. “Y/N?” It had only been about 40 seconds but he must’ve been pretty far enough down, to where I couldn’t see him from outside of the water.
I start to panic at around the minute and a half mark, frantically looking around to see if he came up before sinking into the water. There I see him, smiling as he waves from about 10 metres below me. Bubbles start to escape the gills on his cheeks and that’s when I realise, I bring my head back up, Y/N swimming back to the top at the same time.
“You scared me for a minute there.” I admit as his goofy grin just grows. His arms wrap around me, chuckling as he lets out a "Oops, sorry." I playfully roll my eyes before reaching for his cheek, his head leaning further into the touch.
~~~
A/N: I read that shark’s typically lose 1 tooth every week and have it replaced in a day, so I thought I’d add it lol. I haven’t been that motivated as of recently, so I’m sorry if this isn’t written as well as some of my other fics. And sorry for how ooc Harry is oml.  I've also got a couple more requests to get out, so please forgive me if they come out a little late 🤧
Also thank you guys so so much for 300 followers!! We are so thankful to all of you that have interacted with our stuff, we really appreciate you all!
Masterlist
- Written by Owner 1
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thetriumphantpanda · 9 months
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Tale As Old As Time | Joel Miller Fantasy AU (Chapter Two)
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Series Summary | A Prince, cursed to be unloved, hardened by years of staring at his scars and sitting in his loneliness. A girl, headstrong and wanting of adventure, to escape the life curated for her, a breath of fresh air against the dark of his heart and his home. Can she really learn to love the beast he has become? Truly, a tale as old as time.
Chapter Summary | A girl, granted reprieve from her cell, but is the extravagant room you find yourself in now just a guided cage? A prince, unsure of himself and what to do, let's his temper get the better of him.
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader (Beauty and The Beast AU) 
Chapter Warnings | Grumpy/Angry Joel. Introduction of some famous friends we all know and love, a girl who has essentially been kidnapped, discussion of food and alcohol but nothing else yet.
Word Count | 4.5K
Authors Note | I am so blown away by the love the first part of this received! I didn't ever think that AU's would be my thing but I'm so excited by this story and I'm excited to bring your part 2! For those of you who loved and enjoyed the original Beauty and The Beast, there's some scenes here which are just for you! I'd love to know your thoughts so if you enjoyed this (or even if you didn't!) then please consider reblogging, commenting or leaving me some asks! And if you'd like to support me further, you can leave a tip on my Ko-Fi.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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“Did you see her?” One conspiratorial voice asks in a hushed whisper. 
“Poor thing, was scared to death,” The other voice responds, “He’s never going to break the curse if he behaves like this every time someone comes wandering through.” 
There is a third voice added to the mix, “What do you mean, every time someone wanders through?” This voice is sarcastic, “This is the first time in years we’ve seen a single soul.” 
“Maybe this our chance?” The second voice suggests, “Women like her don’t stumble upon souls like us often.” 
“You really think she could be the answer?” It’s the first voice speaking again, “If the master had thrown me in a cell, I don’t think I could ever forgive him.” 
It’s the second voice that decides the plan of action, “There is simply only one way to find out and that is to try.” 
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It’s late and Joel has a headache. With the passage of time, he’s stopped thinking of himself a Prince. He might still have his servants and his castle, which is crumbling around him, but outside of that, he is no better than any other man, no different from the people in the villages that surround his once magnificent estate. They don’t remember him; he doesn’t really remember them. He thinks, over the glass of wine he drinks, that it’s probably for the best. All the power and attention had gone to his head, wasting his father’s money on extravagant parties, guests whose names he didn’t know. They weren’t there for him, only for what he offered. They’d have gone to any party where the wine was good, and the music made them soar. 
He finishes the wine in his glass when there is a tentative knock at the door. If it wasn’t for the wine jug being empty, he’d have told whoever it was to leave him alone, to leave him to his nightly stupor, but he wasn’t nearly drunk enough. 
“Enter.” He calls out. 
The door to the reception room opens and closes behind him, then the sound of footsteps and the empty jug being swapped for one that is full. Joel waits for the footsteps to start receding again, but they don’t. He clamps his jaw, trying not to lose his temper. They know to leave him alone in the evenings. Only to come to him to refill his drink at hourly intervals and leave with minimal talk. It was a routine they’d fallen into since the beginning. 
“What will you do with her?” 
It’s Lucian’s voice. Strange, Joel thinks. It’s normally Horace who oversees his nightly refills. The old man clearly didn’t have the courage for this conversation. If he wasn’t so fucking angry, he’d almost praise the younger man. 
“Haven’t decided.” 
Joel turns his head to look at the man. He’s smaller than Joel is, considerably, even before he was turned into a towering monster. Blonde hair with pointed features, and a stature that was so uncharacteristically rigid this evening, that Joel almost laughs. 
“Might I offer a suggestion?” He speaks. 
“You might,” Joel scoffs, “Doesn’t mean I’ll listen.” 
He clears his throat as he pours wine into his cup, perhaps hoping the alcohol might placate his master. 
“She is a girl, and we are running out of time, my lord.” 
“Your powers of observation have always been astounding, Lucian,” Joel replies gruffly, sipping at the fresh cup of wine, “She trespassed, she must face the consequences.” 
“I’m not suggesting she doesn’t,” Lucian assures, “But surely one evening locked in the tower is enough, my Lord, she was terrified.” 
“And then what?” 
“Maybe we bring her down to one of the rooms, make her feel comfortable?” He suggests. 
“So, she breaks into my home, and we reward her, is what you’re suggesting?” Joel turns, face warmed by the fire burning in front of him. 
“I’m suggesting that she is our only hope, sir,” Lucian is pleading now, “Another petal fell this week, none of us have much time left, or we’re damned to remain like this forever.” 
Joel ponders for a moment, mulling it over in his mind. If it had just been himself under the curse, he’d leave the silly girl where she was, but it isn’t just him. He’s got his servants to think about, although they don’t know it, they are more his friends than anything else now, the only people he has spoken to in years, and he knows they’re tired. 
He waves a hand in Lucian’s general direction, picking up the wine glass that is now full, “Do as you will, but she is not to stray to the West Wing, if I find her there, it won’t just be her that ends up back in a cell, understood?” 
“Clearly, sir.” 
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The sun greets you early, peering in through the open gaps in the wall, meant to be a window, but only acting as a taunt for its prisoners. You could clearly see outside, out to freedom, but there was no way to reach it. At some point during the night, Phillipe had disappeared, no longer tied to the gate that you can see from the gap. You curse to whichever God will listen for your rotten luck, even if you could escape, the lack of horse would mean you wouldn’t get far before you were struck down by something, or worse, recaptured. 
You lean your back against the wall and bring your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs to try and comfort yourself. The ground is cold and you find yourself wishing for some straw or something, anything to act as a barrier between you and the cold ground you’d spent the night on. 
A little while later you can hear footsteps traveling up the stairs. Maybe now, in the harsh light of day, you’d finally see your captors face. Put features to the deep gruff voice and the large hands that had gripped you last night. It wasn’t to be. The man who comes into view is nowhere near large enough to be the same man who threw you over his shoulder like you were a sack of flour from the miller. This man looks friendly enough when he comes to kneel in front of the bars of your cell. Light blonde hair and a clean face, with friendly eyes. You want to trust him, but this could all be some kind of sick joke at your expense. 
“I brought you some food,” The mystery man speaks, placing a plate down on the ground as he unlocks the cell door, “Are you hungry?” He asks, pushing the plate through the small open gap, kneeling on the floor outside so you’re of a similar height. 
You shake your head and push the plate away with your foot – you have no idea what it could be laced with, even if it is just a lump of bread and some cheese. You try and curl in on yourself, make yourself smaller, hoping whoever this is will take the hint and leave you be. 
“The master can be quite… abrasive,” He starts, “But he means well.” 
You are vaguely aware of another set of feet making their way up the stairs, slower than this man had, but you push it to the back of your mind, “Abrasive?” You snort, “He locked me in a cell for walking through an open door, he is nothing more than a brute!” 
The man in front of you holds his hands up in surrender at your outburst, just in time for another man, still nowhere near large enough to be your captor, to walk up the stairs, clutching at his chest as he caught his breath. 
“I implore you Lucian,” He speaks with a deep voice, still trying to catch his breath, “You leave her where she is, the master didn’t give you express permission for this.” 
“Charming,” You mumble, “Wait, leave me where I am?” Your head perks, “Where else would I go?” 
The man who you now know is Lucian smiles, a genuine, friendly smile, which goes a small way in putting you at ease, “Well, this is no place for a beautiful girl like you, is it?” You return his smile because at this point, you think you’d do anything to not spend another second in this damp cell, “How about we take you somewhere more comfortable?” 
“This is a terrible idea,” The older man, with a full beard and greying hair on his head to match speaks, “I really do think we should leave her here.” 
“Horace, will you please shut up,” Lucian turns and chides him, “Look at her,” He tilts his head back towards you, “She’s terrified, she can’t stay here, and if the master asks, I’ll take the fall.” 
He extends a hand to you and after weighing up another night spent in this cell, you let your own slip into his. Lucian pulls you to your feet and helps brush off some of the dirt from the skirt of your dress, as he motions for you to walk in front of him, “Follow that oaf back down the stairs,” He chuckles, “He’ll be slow going because of his knees.” 
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The room that you find yourself in now is a complete juxtaposition to a huge amount of the rest of the castle. None of the windows are broken, it doesn’t smell like the damp musk of the rest of the place, and the bed looks so comfortable you might cry. Your back is screaming from the night on the stone floor of the cell so you don’t think twice about flopping down onto the bed, letting the soft sheets and the mattress sink below you. You’re almost convinced you could fall asleep, until there is a loud knock at the door and then a woman, followed by a small boy invading the room. 
“Oh you must have had a ghastly night up there,” She exclaims, “Only one thing for it, and that’s a strong cup of tea,” She’s picking up a tea pot and pouring the warm liquid into a cup, stirring in some milk and sugar, before the saucer is held in your direction. You take it gratefully and drink, letting it warm your bones, “Drink up dear, we’ve got a lot to do.” 
“I’m sorry…” You trail off, “I’m lost?” 
“That dress has seen far better days,” She points to your clothes, understandably covered in grime from your night in the cell, “And I’m sure you’re absolutely famished, now come on, before Madame Audra appears.” 
You take another sip of the tea, as you watch the young boy rummaging around the room, “And who might you be?” You ask, smiling as he turns to face you. 
“I’m Oliver, Miss,” He smiles widely, walking towards you, “But everyone here calls me Chip.” 
“Chip?” You ask, a giggle to your voice. 
“Yeah!” He exclaims, getting as close to you as he possibly can, lifting his lip to show you his teeth, “Because I fell and chipped my tooth, see?” 
“Oh! How rude of me!” The older woman who has been fussing over the tea trolley exclaims, “I’m Mrs Thompson, and Chip here is my boy, and we’re going to make sure you’re comfortable here.” 
There’s another swift knock at the door before it’s kicked open to reveal a woman, younger than Mrs Thompson but still older than you, arms laden with so many materials that she can barely see over the top of the pile. She’s bustles into the room and drops them on the bed, immediately taking hold of the cup of tea you were enjoying to set back on the tea trolley. She grabs hold of your wrists and pulls you up from the bed, holding up your arms and running you over with her eyes, as if she’s sizing you up. Turns out that’s exactly what she’s doing. 
Whilst she’s fussing over the pile of what turns out to be dresses, you take a closer look at her. She’s beautiful, with smooth skin and friendly eyes, much like the rest of the gang you’ve met today. You wonder how these people have stayed so positive under the employment of such a horrid man. This woman in front of you can only be Madame Audra, and she’s dressed to the nines. You’d read about women like her in your books. Women of high society, with powdered faces and hair that towered on their heads, gowns made of silk and ribbons. She is quite possibly everything you had wanted to find in this world. 
“Now, I’m going to leave you in Madame Audra’s capable hands, we’ve got dinner to prepare, haven’t we Chip?” Mrs Thompson explains, steering the tea trolley out of the room with Chip on her heel. 
As the door closes you can hear Chip speaking to his mother, “See, I told you she pretty, mama.” 
You smile, turning your attention back to Madame Audra, who is holding up a simple dress, the colour of sugared almonds. You remember when your father had brought some back from the city, years ago. You’d eaten them with your mother, already sick and in bed. One of the few good memories you still held of her. 
“This will do nicely,” Madame Audra nods, holding it against your body, “The master will like this, and it’ll look lovely in the glow of the dining hall.” 
“Oh, but I’m…” 
“Well come on, let’s get you out of these dirty things.” 
“I’m very grateful,” You start, a hand placed on her arm as she tries to turn you to undo the back of the dress you’re already wearing, “But I won’t be going for dinner.”
She stops dead in her fussing over you, eyes wide, “Oh but you must.” She implores. 
“I won’t sit opposite a man who threw me in a cell for waking through an open door.” You stand your ground. 
She’s about to open her mouth to speak when there is a knock at the door. It opens to reveal Horace, the man from earlier, straight-backed and serious. 
“Dinner is served, my Lady.” 
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Joel is pacing, mainly through frustration more than anything else, as Lucian and Mrs Thompson set the dining table ready to begin the execution of their master plan. There is a roaring fire lit, warming the room, and all sorts of dishes being carried out and placed upon the table. It’s nothing short of a feast, if he closes his eyes, he could even convince himself that he was the man he once was and he wasn’t about to sit down with a girl who had trespassed into his home and was now seemingly being rewarded for it. If he’s honest with himself, he also might be a little nervous. 
He'd been careful last night to stay in the shadows. He’s not really sure why, because at that point, all he was ever going to do with her was leave her up there to rot, but now he’s glad, glad that he hadn’t seen the look of repulsion on her face as he stepped into the light, showing the mottled skin of his face, scarred and textured as if someone had held his face to a flame for too long. 
“What is taking her so long?” He finally lets out, exasperated, mainly because the food is going cold. 
Mrs Thompson stands near the fire, her hands clasped in front of her, “Do try to be patient, my Lord, the girl has lost her freedom in less than a day, it’s going to take her some time.” 
Lucian decides to add his two pence to the situation, setting down the fork he’s been pointlessly polishing to pass time, “Have you thought that maybe she might be the one to break the spell?” He asks, hope lacing his voice. 
“Of course I have!” Joel exclaims, turning around to face him, “I’m not a fucking fool.” 
Lucian holds his hand up in surrender like he always does, but then claps them together, “Well then, it’s settled,” He exclaims, “You fall in love with her,” He holds out one hand, “She falls in love with you,” His other hand now held out, “The spell is broken, and we all go back to normal.” 
“Oh Lucian,” Mrs Thompson sighs, “It’s not that easy, love takes time.” 
Joel can feel his stomach sinking, hope had flourished before, at the idea that perhaps this might work, that these people who have surrounded him for years might be right, but when he thinks to the way he looks, face scarred, frame so big he would scare anyone who saw him, he realizes it’s no use. The enchantress had been right, no-one could ever learn to love him. 
“It’s no use,” He sighs, teeth gritted in frustration, he’s got a hand on the mantle above the fire, clenched in a fist, “She’s so beautiful,” He admits, because you are, even when fear had covered your features, you were quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, “And I’m like this.” He points to his face.
Mrs Thompson moves to stand closer to him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, “Then you need to help her see past all this, don’t scare her with that intimidating scowl you always wear.” She points to his face. 
“And when she comes in,” Lucian adds, “Smile at her, make her feel welcome.” 
Joel listens back and forth as the two of them give him advice on how to behave when the girl finally arrives. Compliment her. But be sincere. Impress her with your whit. But be gentle. But above all, you must control your temper. 
It’s almost overwhelming, he can feel anger and embarrassment flooding through his body. He’s about to demand they stop when the door opens. He holds his breath, standing up straight, but then it’s only Horace’s portly figure that emerges over the threshold. 
“Where is she?” Joel demands. 
“Well, you see,” Horace begins, “Circumstances being what they are….” He trails off, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the wrath he knows he’s about to be on the receiving end of, “She’s not coming.” 
“What?” Joel speaks calmly, although there is rage flowing through his veins, threatening to bubble over at any time. 
Before he really knows what he’s doing, he’s stomping, feet heavy, from the dining hall. He can feel everyone else following being him, but all he can focus on is how rude this girl is being. Beautiful, but the most stubborn woman he’s ever met, and he’s known her for less than a day. How dare she refuse him? He should have left her where she was to rot in the tower. 
There is a pounding at the door, so fierce you’re surprised it doesn’t break, “You were told to come down to dinner!” 
You look towards Madame Audra who has fear in her eyes, imploring you to placate whoever the man is currently shouting at you, but you can’t. He’s taken your freedom; you won’t let him control you as well. 
“I’m not hungry!” 
“You come out right now, or I will break down this door!” 
Unbeknownst to you, it isn’t just the master on the other side of the door, but Mrs Thompson, Lucian and Horace too. They’re all looking at each other, knowing that the talk they’d had with Joel in the dining hall has been forgotten, his anger taking over as it always does. They’re all trying to convince each other to talk, through knowing looks, surely one of them can help salvage this situation. 
It is Lucian who takes the initiative, “Master, I could be wrong,” He rubs his hands together in front of him, his own nervous habit showing through, “But that probably isn’t the best way to win the girls affections.” 
“Please, just attempt to be a gentleman.” Horace adds, making sure he’s standing behind Lucian, so he has a chance to escape if Joel feels the need to take his anger out on anyone.
“How can I when she’s being so difficult?!” Joel hisses, pointing towards the door. 
“Just ask her nicely,” Mrs Thompson implores, “Don’t demand.” 
Joel takes a deep breath and turns back to the door, the three pairs of eyes trained on his back as he digs deep and tries to remember what it means to be a gentleman, though he’s not been one for some time. 
“Will you come down to dinner?” 
The answer is almost instant, “Absolutely not.” 
Horace is already trying to tame Joel’s frustration when he turns back around to them, “Gentle, be suave, my Lord.” 
Another sigh, and another turn back to the door, his voice strained, trying to control his anger to destroy something from the rejection, “It would give me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner, please.” He speaks through gritted teeth, not quite believing that he is the one begging when she was the one who trespassed. 
“No thank you!” You call back through the door. 
“You can’t stay in there forever!” 
“Yes I can!” 
“Fine!” Joel shouts, “THEN YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND STARVE!” He bellows at the top of his lungs, turning around to his servants who are cowering across the hall from him, “If she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all!” 
He stalks off back down the corridor, slamming the door at the end of it shut behind him. Madame Audra leaves the girl’s room, looking to her fellow servants before shaking her head. She’s not quick enough in closing the door, because all four of them can hear the racking sobs coming from the room. 
“Well, that went terribly.” Mrs Thompson muses, wanting nothing more than to storm into the girl’s room and embrace her. 
“Lucian, you stay right here,” Horace directs, slipping right into his role as head of the household in a crisis, “If she attempts to leave, you inform me immediately,” He runs a hand over his greying beard, “We need to be careful with this, she’s a firecracker, and anymore wrong moves and he’ll have her right back up in the cell,” Then he turns to Mrs Thompson and Madame Audra, “Household meeting in the kitchens.” 
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