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yamujiburo · 6 months

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Ketchum vs. Ketchum! Showdown in Cerulean City!

Woo! Finale time! I wanted to make this final battle feel special and give it more substance than I could do with just a comic. So! I got the help of @cyberwulf to write out this ending in fanfic form! Check it out here on AO3 if you prefer! If not, the journey continues below the cut~

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James Sidestory / Meowth Sidestory

A lot has happened since our Poké Moms began their journey. After a rocky start…

“*SQUAWK*”

…they’ve managed to catch some new Pokémon…

“Run! Run! Run!”

…in their own way.

“What a cute baby! You know, I have a son, too!”

With their month on the road almost up, Delia had just one more thing she wanted to do…

“I want to beat the Cerulean City Gym!”

But little did Delia know, there was a surprise waiting for her in Cerulean City!

“MOM??? JESSIE???”

“Let’s have a double battle! You and Ash versus Jessie and I!”

“You’re on! But I’m not going easy on you just cuz you’re family!”

“…What’s going on?”

Poké Mom Adventures

EP009

Ketchum vs Ketchum! Showdown in Cerulean City!

The water of the Cerulean gym battlefield glistened in the sunshine streaming through its crystal glass roof. Both teams gazed at each other with steely determination (and some lingering confusion, in Misty’s case) as above them, the Drone Rotom announced the rules.

“This will be a double battle between Gym Leader Misty and Champion Ash, and the challengers Delia and Jessie.” It projected a holographic image of both teams. “For today’s battle, each trainer may use two Pokémon. The battle is over when all of one team’s Pokémon can no longer battle.”

“All right!” Misty declared. “This is an official League battle for the Cascade badge!”

“And bragging rights!” Jessie added with a smirk.

“We’ll see about that!” Ash retorted. Misty glanced at him, taking in his clenched fists and gritted teeth. She’d seen Ash determined before, but… there was something here that she was missing. However, with the Drone Rotom hovering expectantly overhead, finding out what that something was would have to wait.

“Come out – Corsola!”

The Coral Pokémon landed on the rock in front of her, eagerly crying its name.

“This is a water-themed gym, so I’ll go with a Water-Type,” Ash remarked. “Oshawott, I choose you!”

“That’s the spirit, Ash!” Misty exclaimed. “It’s the job of a Gym Leader to help trainers learn type advantage and weaknesses by specialising in one kind of Pokémon, and around here that’s Water-Types!”

“Water, huh?” Jessie frowned as she considered the three Pokémon she had on hand. “Well, I don’t want my delicate little Ziggy to get her fur wet.” With a flourish, she tossed a Pokéball high in the air. “Go, Venomoth!”

The Poison Moth Pokémon emerged, hovering over the water.

“It’s a shame we don’t have any Grass or Electric-types,” Delia mused. “I guess we’ll just have to do our best with what we have.” Pushing her bangs out of her face, she called, “I choose you!”

Ash and Misty’s jaws dropped as the light from Delia’s Pokéball coalesced into a very large, very stern-looking Kangaskhan.

“I didn’t know your mom had such a strong Pokémon,” Misty whispered.

“Neither did I,” Ash whispered back. Movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked down at his starter Pokémon. “Something wrong, Pikachu?”

“Pika…”

Pikachu gazed across the water at Kangaskhan, ears and tail up, alert to… something. But before anyone could figure out what had caught his attention, there was a small cry.

“Kangaskhan!”

The baby squirmed, spooked by the glistening water lapping all around the rock. She buried her face in her mother’s belly and cried again. Cradling her young protectively, Kangaskhan gave Delia an apologetic look.

“Oh, of course!” Delia exclaimed. “I’m so sorry. Kangaskhan, return.” Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called across the battlefield. “That doesn’t count as one of my Pokémon, does it?”

“Of course not, Ms. Ketchum!” Misty shouted back. “Please choose another Pokémon!”

“If she’s got one,” Ash said with a confident smirk. “I’m betting she’ll send out Mimey.”

“I choose you… Clefairy!”

“Looks like you bet wrong, Ash,” Misty laughed as Ash stared in surprise at the Fairy Pokémon.

Above them, the Drone Rotom moved into position.

“Begin!”

“All right, Oshawott!” Ash called out. “Open up with an Aqua Jet!”

With a determined cry, Oshawott blasted a jet of water across the field, hitting Clefairy square in the belly and knocking the Fairy Pokémon off the rock and into the water.

“Ash Ketchum!” Delia exclaimed reproachfully. “That wasn’t very nice!”

Thrown off-guard, Ash gulped. “S-sorry!” (Oh man - I can’t believe I’m actually battling my mom!)

On the opposite side of the battlefield, a wet and bedraggled Clefairy clambered back up on the rock ridge, scowling at her attacker.

“Shake it off, Clefairy!” Delia urged as her Pokémon did just that, sending a fine shower of water droplets flying from her pink fur. “Use Disarming Voice!”

With a deep breath, Clefairy shot a vortex of pink hearts towards Oshawott, taking the Sea Otter Pokémon by surprise and knocking him into the water.

“Good work, Deerling!” Jessie shouted triumphantly. “Now it’s my turn!” She pointed at Corsola. “Venomoth, use Poison Sting!”

Venomoth hovered uncertainly for a few moments, then looked back at her.

“It doesn’t look like Venomoth knows that move, honey,” Delia remarked.

“Well, Dustox knew that move!” Jessie protested. “Venomoth should know it too, aren’t they both Bug-types?”

Venomoth just blinked at her.

“You really don’t know what moves your Pokémon knows?” Misty asked incredulously.

“Of course I do, just – just let me think!” Jessie spluttered, clenching her fists. “All right, Venomoth – use Gust!”

Venomoth didn’t move.

“Whirlwind!” Jessie tried. “Psybeam! …Tackle?”

Venomoth looked back and forth between Jessie and the battlefield as it fluttered about agitatedly, utterly confused by the barrage of unfamiliar orders.

“This is just sad,” Misty muttered, getting a nod of agreement from Ash. Raising her voice, she called out, “Corsola! Use Spike Cannon!”

Corsola glowed, and a split second later a shower of glowing white spikes slammed into Venomoth, driving it backwards towards the trainer box.

“Oh, no!” Delia groaned in dismay, wringing her hands. “Maybe we should’ve practiced with our new Pokémon before coming here!”

“We’re not giving up!” Jessie snarled, clenching her fists. “Venomoth! Get back out there!”

With a trill, Venomoth shook off the spikes, and floated towards its opponents again.

“Corsola!” Misty called. “Hit it with another Spike Cannon!”

Corsola began to glow.

“Well don’t just hover there!” Jessie barked out. “It’s about to attack again!” Venomoth looked back at her, and Jessie gestured angrily towards the battlefield. “Just do something! Anything!”

Once more, glowing white spikes shot towards Venomoth. This time, however, Venomoth dove towards the attack, sweeping its wings in front of itself at the last minute. Blue blades of light cut through the barrage of spikes, one hitting Corsola and driving it back.

“That’s Air Slash!” Ash exclaimed.

“Air Slash, eh?” Jessie shot her opponents a triumphant smirk. “Venomoth! Use Air Slash on that pitiful pink Pokémon again!”

“Hang in there, Corsola!” Misty called as her Pokémon was driven back for a second time. “Use Recover!”

“Don’t let it recover, Venomoth!” Jessie yelled. “Air Slash again!”

As her Pokémon geared up for another attack, she noticed Delia gazing at her in rapture.

“You’re so ferocious when you battle, Smoochum,” Delia remarked dreamily. She lowered her voice, waggling her eyebrows. “It’s kinda hot.”

Jessie blushed and giggled. “Baaabe, not in front of the twerps.”

Misty wrinkled her nose in disgust. “…Smoochum?”

“Freak out later, Misty!” Ash yelled. Venomoth was bearing down on Corsola, and the Coral Pokémon didn’t have much left. “Oshawott! Use Hydro Pump on Venomoth to protect Corsola!”

Leaping high into the air, Oshawott sent a powerful jet of water directly at Jessie’s Venomoth. With a cry, the Poison Moth hit the floor between Jessie and Delia, bounced once, and fainted.

“Hey, no fair!” Jessie bellowed, stamping her foot. “I was distracted!” She recalled Venomoth with a scowl. “I ought to ground you for making me look bad!”

“This is really weird,” Misty mumbled.

“You have no idea,” Ash sighed wearily.

“All right, you big blue blob,” Jessie growled to her faithful Patient Pokémon, “get out there and let’s win this thing!”

Saluting, Wobbuffet waddled forward, straight into the water. Jessie pinched the bridge of her nose as Wobbuffet awkwardly clambered up onto the protruding rock.

“Wobbles can’t attack unless he’s attacked first,” Delia murmured to herself. “Oshawott is strong, and Corsola can use Recover to gain back health. That means I’ve got to make this next move count!” She looked to Clefairy, wet and winded but not out of the battle. It was risky, but…

“Clefairy! Use Metronome!”

“Metronome?!” Misty exclaimed as Clefairy began to move her fingers hypnotically back and forth. “Now anything can happen!”

“Hold tight, everybody!” Ash called, just as the Fairy Pokémon’s fingers turned white.

Razor-sharp leaves whipped through the air, striking Oshawott and Corsola. The Grass-Type move was too much for the dual Rock/Water Type, and Corsola collapsed into the water, fainted. Oshawott was driven back against the rock ridge, and Ash held his breath, but the Drone Rotom only counted Corsola out.

“Oshawott! You hanging in there, buddy?”

With a grimace, the Sea Otter Pokémon gave him a determined nod. “Osha!”

“Ha!” Jessie cried triumphantly. “Now we’re even!” She clenched her fists, calling tauntingly across the battlefield. “Who’s next, twerpette? Togepi? Psyduck?”

“She sure is cocky for being down to just Wobbuffet,” Ash muttered.

“Not for long,” Misty replied with a smirk. She plucked her second Pokéball from her hip.

“Go – Gyarados!”

Delia’s eyes widened and Jessie took several steps back as the gigantic Pokémon appeared in the water. It glowered down at both trainers, making Delia swallow hard.

(Now’s not the time to lose my nerve! Gyarados is just a Pokémon like any other. All I have to do is-)

“Hey!” Jessie exclaimed angrily. “No fair using such a powerful Pokémon! What, are Staryu and Starmie at the Pokémon Centre or something?!”

Taken aback, Misty gaped at the former Team Rocket member in disbelief. “Since when do you care about playing fair?”

“Since you decided to use that monstrosity on a first-time trainer!” Jessie retorted with a shake of her fist. “That’s cheating!”

Misty paused, almost second-guessing her choice of Pokémon, when she remembered who she was dealing with. Squaring her shoulders, she shot back, “You’re not a first-time trainer!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Ash muttered.

“I heard that!” Jessie bawled.

“It’s okay, honey,” Delia murmured, placing her hand on Jessie’s shoulder. “We can beat them. We just need to use strategy!”

“Gyarados!” Misty called out. Jessie may not have been the best trainer, and her track record with him was hit or miss, but Wobbuffet could reflect almost any attack. It might just have been luck, but Clefairy’s Metronome had taken out Corsola and left Oshawott just barely hanging on. There was only one choice of target.

“Use Hurricane on Clefairy, now!”

Rearing back, Gyarados shot a powerful blast of air directly at the Fairy Pokémon, sending her flying back to the trainer box.

“Oh no!” Delia cried. She knelt by her stricken Pokémon’s side, but it was obvious even without Drone Rotom saying so that Clefairy couldn’t continue. “You did a wonderful job, Clefairy.” Recalling her Pokémon, she rose, pushed her bangs out of her eyes, and called her second Pokémon.

“Mimey, I choose you!”

Ash clenched his fists. No more surprises – he knew what Mimey was capable of. Oshawott was tough, but he’d taken a lot of damage. If the Sea Otter Pokémon only had one move left, then Ash had to make it count.

“Oshawott! Hit Mimey with Aqua Jet!”

“Mimey, dodge it!” Delia cried out.

The Barrier Pokémon leapt high in the air, leaving Ash to watch, powerless, as Aqua Jet splashed harmlessly on the ground between his mother and Jessie. But before he could call out another attack –

“Now, Mimey, Focus Punch on Oshawott!”

There was no time for Oshawott to get out of the way. Mimey dove straight down, fist outstretched, and scored a direct hit. Both Pokémon vanished underwater. All four trainers held their breath. After a few seconds, Mimey burst out of the water, effortlessly leaping onto the rock. A moment later Oshawott floated to the surface, fainted.

“Good work, Oshawott,” Ash murmured as he recalled his Pokémon. He turned to Pikachu. “Looks like my mom’s a tougher trainer than I thought. You ready, Pikachu?”

The yellow mouse nodded, one tiny fist raised. “Pika!”

“You be nice to us now, Pikachu!” Delia cheered brightly.

Jessie was less optimistic.

“Babe, this isn’t looking good,” she murmured urgently. “I’ve been beaten by that Pikachu a zillion times! And that Gyarados looks strong. And mean! I don’t know if…”

She trailed off as the other woman took her hands.

“Now you listen to me, Jessie Ketchum.” Delia gazed into her eyes, a look of fierce determination on her face. “A zillion battles. A zillion losses. Against that very Pikachu. And you never gave up. So you’re not gonna give up now! Okay?”

Jessie stared back at her. Time seemed to stand still. Delia’s fingers were warm on her own as her words of encouragement hung in the air.

“Jessie… Ketchum?”

With the briefest of nods, Delia turned to face their opponents.

“Ash honey, don’t you hold back just because I’m your mom!” she called. “We’re going to give it our all, even if we lose!”

“She’s a lot like you, Ash,” Misty laughed. As Ash tugged the brim of his hat down to hide his blush, she raised her voice and called to the challengers. “You’re doing great, Ms. Ketchum! I’m really impressed by your abilities as a trainer. Now show me you’re worthy of the Cascade badge!”

“Hey!” Jessie yelled indignantly. “What am I, chopped liver?! My Venomoth pushed your Corsola to the brink!”

Misty grimaced. This was all still too strange – Jessie was a good guy? Jessie and Ash’s mom were… partners? She struggled for something positive to say about Jessie’s performance so far.

“Uh – yeah!” she managed. “It was, uh, really great how you figured out that one move.”

Jessie put her hands on her hips. “Ugh, could you sound any more insincere?!”

With a growl of impatience, Ash cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled across the battlefield. “Hey! Are we gonna battle or what?”

“Oh, we’re battling, twerp,” Jessie shot back. “And we’re gonna win!”

Ash grinned. “You ready, Pikachu?” The yellow Pokémon turned to look at his trainer. Ash pointed. “Quick attack!”

“Ha!” Jessie scoffed as Pikachu zigzagged along the rock ridge. “Wobbuffet, use Counter!”

Pikachu leaped forward…

“On Mimey!”

Delia and Jessie gasped as Pikachu pivoted and went straight for the Barrier Pokémon. Taken by surprise, he took the full brunt of the attack, losing his balance and hitting the water.

“A fake out!” Delia exclaimed. She beamed at her son with pride. “That was so smart of you, honey! You had us completely fooled!”

“Baaabe!” Jessie hissed. “I get that you care about him – I do too – but right now he’s the enemy!”

Delia tapped her fist against her head, grinning nervously. “Oh, right!”

“This is hurting my brain,” Misty groaned.

“How do you think I feel?” Ash grumbled.

Delia took a moment to centre herself and assess the situation. Pikachu didn’t have a Type advantage, but his Electric attacks were powerful – not to mention that Mimey was still wet. Of course, using them ran the risk of electrifying the entire battlefield, including Gyarados, but only one Pokémon needed to be left standing in order for that Pokémon’s team to win.

“Mimey!” she commanded. “Use Psychic on Pikachu!”

“Mr Mime!”

Mimey fixed Pikachu with an intense stare, his eyes and hands glowing blue. Blue light enveloped the yellow mouse as he was lifted into the air. Pikachu strained and struggled, but couldn’t break free.

Ash groaned in exasperation.

“Misty, go for Mimey!” he called. “If you weaken him, maybe Pikachu can break free. Plus, he’s a lot stronger than Wobbuffet!”

Misty nodded. “Right!”

“Hey!” Jessie objected. “Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you have to say it!” She shook her fist at them. “I raised you better than that, Ash Ketchum!”

“Wha – ” Ash took a step back, flabbergasted. “You didn’t raise me at all!”

“The heck I didn’t!” Jessie retorted. “Who kept an eye on you while you twerped your way through eight regions, huh?!”

Misty rubbed her temples. The whole situation was giving her a headache.

“Gyarados!”

The Atrocious Pokémon stirred itself and looked her way.

“Use Crunch on Mr. Mime, now!”

“Oh no, not Crunch!” Delia fretted, as Gyarados reared back, a sinister purple aura swirling around its fangs. “That’s a Dark-Type move!”

“Wobbuffet!” Jessie barked. “Get between Mimey and Gyarados and use Counter!”

Saluting, Wobbuffet leaped in front of Mimey, his body outlined in orange light. Crunch hit, hard, and bounced back twice as hard. Both Gyarados and Wobbuffet recoiled from the damage.

“Wobbles!” Delia cried out, as Mimey caught Wobbuffet in his arms.

“Don’t you quit on me now, Wobbuffet!” Jessie shouted.

Wobbuffet saluted weakly as Mimey pushed him back onto his paws. The distraction worked, and Pikachu dropped back to the rock, freed from Psychic.

“Keep the pressure on, Pikachu!” Ash yelled. “Use Iron Tail on Mimey, now!”

“Quick, Mimey!” Delia shouted as Pikachu somersaulted through the air, tail glowing white. “Use Reflect!”

Pikachu hit the invisible barrier and flew backwards, landing in the water.

“Gyarados!” Misty commanded. “Use Crunch again!”

“Mimey, keep using Reflect!” Delia shouted. “Don’t let them in!” She had to think. Poor Wobbles, he didn’t have much left – one more shot from that big Gyarados and that would be it. Not to mention that if Crunch hit Mimey, the battle would be over! She’d completely forgotten Gyarados could learn that move! Oh, maybe she should’ve used Zaggy instead…

Mimey obediently continued to use Reflect as Gyarados and Pikachu attacked from either side. Slowly the invisible barriers began to box them in, till Mimey and Wobbuffet were crowded together on the rock.

“Babe!” Jessie urged. “We have to do something or we’re gonna lose!”

“I know!” Delia groaned. “I just…” She cupped her face in her hands, pulling down on her cheeks. “…I don’t know!”

“Ms Ketchum!”

Delia lifted her head.

“You can’t let us back you into a corner!” Misty called. “Use your environment to find a way out!”

Ash shot her a glare. “Hey, whose side are you on?!”

“It’s my job as a Gym leader to help trainers to learn,” Misty explained with a smile. “Did you forget?”

“You didn’t help me when I battled you for the first time!” Ash replied indignantly, poking his thumb into his chest.

Misty glowered at him.

“That’s because you still owed me a new bike, Ash Ketchum!”

“Aaagh!” Ash placed both hands on his head, tugging his hat down. “Can’t you let that go already? It got repaired, didn’t it?”

While their opponents bickered, Delia had taken Misty’s words to heart.

“Use the environment…” she mused. There was only one place Mimey and Wobbles could go – but first they had to do something about the double attacks coming their way.

“Jessie!” she hissed, beckoning her partner to come closer. “Can you have Wobbles use Counter?”

Jessie looked at Wobbuffet, sweating nervously as he stood behind Mimey. She nodded.

“Okay,” Delia replied. She whispered quickly in the other woman’s ear. Jessie grinned, then straightened up.

“Wobbuffet! Use Counter on both those attacks!”

Without any hesitation, Wobbuffet moved in front of Mimey, body once more enveloped in an orange glow. Crunch and Iron Tail came back double on Gyarados and Pikachu, sending the two flying backwards. Both Pokémon landed hard on the rock, Gyarados almost wrapping around it with the force of the blow.

“On your feet, Pikachu!” Ash called. “It’s not over yet! …Huh?”

He blinked at the empty battlefield. Mimey and Wobbuffet had both disappeared. Ash tensed as he scoured the water for any sign of the enemy Pokémon, but the surface was still settling from the last bout of attacks. The sunlight streaming through the roof didn’t help either – it made the rippling water glitter.

Misty spotted movement a second too late.

“Look out-”

In tandem, Mimey and Wobbuffet burst through the surface, taking up positions either side of Gyarados and Pikachu, trapping their opponents between them.

“Good work, you two!” Delia cheered. She pointed dramatically. “Now, Mimey – use Psychic on both of them!”

Once more, Mimey’s eyes and hands glowed. Both Gyarados and Pikachu rose into the air, enveloped in blue light.

“Great strategy, Ms. Ketchum!” Misty called, earning a dirty look from Ash which she ignored. “There’s no point going for Wobbuffet – he’ll just Counter our attacks again.”

“Right,” Ash agreed. “We’ve gotta take out Mimey!” He raised his voice. “Pikachu!”

Misty did likewise. “Gyarados!”

Delia grinned. “Just as I thought.” She looked at her partner. “Get ready with Mirror Coat!”

Jessie blinked in confusion. “…Huh?”

“Thunderbolt –”

“Hydro Pump –”

“On Mimey!” both young trainers yelled in unison.

“Mimey!” Delia called, just as both Pokémon charged their attacks. “Drop them, use Light Screen and aim at Wobbles!”

“Aim at WHO?!” Jessie exclaimed.

There was no time to explain. Everything turned on a split second. Pikachu and Gyarados began to fall through the air. Several volts of electricity and a powerful torrent of water hit Mimey’s Light Screen and barrelled towards Wobbuffet.

The diabolical beauty of Delia’s devious plan suddenly caught up with Jessie. That pair of pathetic Pokémon were in for a –

“Now, honey!”

Jessie almost fumbled the command.

“M-Mirror Coat!”

Wobbuffet glowed, shrouded in a reflective aura. Everything seemed to slow down. The attacks hit. They bounced back at Mimey. Pikachu and Gyarados fell. Ash’s mouth opened in a silent noooo.

The timing was perfect.

Gyarados and Pikachu fell in front of Mimey, taking the full brunt of Thunderbolt and Hydro Pump, doubled by Mirror Coat. The sheer force of the attacks drove them along the surface of the water, causing huge plumes of water to rise into the air either side of them. The battlefield disappeared in a shroud of surf and spray.

“Pikachu!” Ash cried out.

All four trainers held their breath as the mist began to clear.

Jessie cried out in dismay on seeing Wobbuffet floating belly-up in the water. Ash groaned on spotting Pikachu doing likewise. Draped over the rock, Gyarados lifted its head weakly, then dropped it again.

Delia scanned the water, a smile spreading across her face as Mimey swam to the rock and clambered up, standing tall with a cry of, “Mr. Mime!”

“Wobbuffet, Pikachu, and Gyarados are unable to battle,” the Drone Rotom declared, as Ash sank to his knees. “The winners are the challengers, Delia and Jessie!”

“I… I can’t believe this…” Ash moaned.

“We…” Jessie couldn’t stop staring at the battlefield, Drone Rotom’s words ringing in her ears. “…we won?” She looked to Delia, and the joyful look on her face confirmed it. “We WON!!!”

Delia shrieked as Jessie caught hold of her and lifted her high in the air, doing a twirl before setting her back on her feet and peppering her face with kisses. “Hahahaha!” She turned to their opponents, pulling down on one eyelid while sticking her tongue out. “Suck it, twe – I mean, Ash and Misty! I knew this day would come sooner or later!”

“Jessica, I know you’re happy, but don’t be a bad winner,” Delia chided gently. “Magnanimity in victory goes a long way.”

“But baaaabe!” Jessie whined. “I’ve never had a victory this magnificent before!”

Delia just smiled and gave her a peck on the lips. “I think poor Wobbles wants you,” she remarked, nodding to the battlefield. “We’ll need to get him to a Pokémon Centre with Venomoth and Clefairy.”

Jessie nodded and went to haul Wobbuffet out of the water.

“Come on, you,” she grunted as she dragged the Patient Pokémon back onto dry land. Briefly she removed her cap and wiped the sweat from her brow. Fine, so she couldn’t taunt the twerps any more. Victory still tasted pretty sweet.

In her arms, Wobbuffet stirred and smiled weakly up at her. Jessie couldn’t help but smile back.

“How about that?” she murmured to him. “You’re a winner, Wobbuffet. I bet you can’t wait to tell the others.”

He managed a salute and a quiet “Wobba…” before Jessie recalled him to his Pokéball.

Ash, meanwhile, remained on his knees in the trainer box. “I can’t believe we lost to my mom.”

“You gotta admit, that last strategy was a thing of beauty,” Misty replied with a smile. She’d made her way out to the rock and was cradling Gyarados’s head, absently rubbing its crest. The big Pokémon opened its eyes and let out a quiet rumble. “I guess now we know where you get your battling skills from, champ!”

Stepping out of her sneakers, Delia carefully negotiated the slippery rock and fished Pikachu out of the water. A couple of vigorous rubs from his head to his tail, and the Electric Mouse Pokémon opened his eyes.

“You were great, Pikachu,” Delia murmured. She tickled him under his chin, getting a weak “Chaaa” in response. She made her way back to the side of the battlefield to find Ash, Misty and Jessie waiting. “You were great too, honey.”

Ash managed a smile as she handed Pikachu to him. “Thanks, Mom.” He gasped as he was pulled into a hug.

“That was such a fun battle!” Delia exclaimed. She loosened her hold just enough to look at him. “I can see why you like this so much.”

“Watch out, Ash,” Misty teased. “You might just have a new rival on your hands!”

Ash let out a distressed yelp.

“Oh no, I don’t have time for that,” Delia assured him with a wave of her hand. As Ash sighed with relief, she cupped his cheek and tilted his head up to look at him. “But travelling around this past month and battling with you today… it’s made me feel a little bit closer to you.”

Ash blushed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Aw, Mom,” he mumbled with a grin.

“Ahem.”

Ash and Delia turned to see Misty holding out a Cascade badge.

“This is yours, Ms. Ketchum,” the Gym Leader declared. “You made the battlefield, your Pokémon and their moves work to your advantage. I’m impressed!”

“Oh, you’re too kind, really,” Delia replied, blushing as she accepted the badge. Its blue surface seemed to glitter in the sunlight streaming in from the roof. “I’ll treasure this, always. Thank you.”

“That’s how you win a badge fair and square,” Misty teased, shooting a wink Ash’s way.

The Champion rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

All three turned to see Jessie holding out her hand.

“What about me?” she demanded. “The perfect Pokémon battle partner? Trainer of vicious Venomoth and wild Wobbuffet? Where’s my badge?”

Misty sighed. Jessie had been on the winning team, and she had won a badge fair and square, but the whole situation was still bizarre.

“I’ll give you a badge if you explain what all…” She waved her hand between Jessie and Delia. “…this is about.”

“Delia and I dating,” Jessie scoffed with a shrug. “It’s not that complicated.”

“I got that part,” Misty shot back irritatedly, “I just…” She looked from Jessie, standing with her arms crossed, to Ms. Ketchum, who had one hand on Jessie’s hip, to Ash, who looked like he was hoping the floor would open up and swallow him. “…you know what, never mind.” Reaching into her pocket, she took out a second Cascade badge.

“I can’t believe this is happening, but… you earned this!”

Jessie let out a little cry of joy as Misty put the badge into her hand.

“Oh, Deerling, look how pretty it is!” she gushed. “Do you think maybe we could just get the prettiest Gym badges?”

“I don’t see why not,” Delia replied. “With James to run the restaurant, I can take vacations more often!”

“James is –” Misty glared at Ash, who pulled the brim of his cap down and giggled nervously. “We’re going to the Pokémon Centre and then you’re telling me what’s been going on, Ash Ketchum!”

“Let’s all go to the Pokémon Centre,” Delia suggested. “Our Pokémon battled hard today, they deserve a good rest.”

It wasn’t long before Nurse Joy’s tender care had Venomoth, Corsola, Oshawott, Clefairy, Wobbuffet, Gyarados and Pikachu feeling like their old selves again. Delia squeezed Jessie’s hand, murmuring “that’ll be you one day, Smoochum” as they watched Joy work.

“Well, we should get going,” Delia declared once they had their Pokémon back.

“We were going to stay and have dinner, Ms. Ketchum,” Misty said. She eyed Jessie reluctantly, but made the offer anyway. “…You’re welcome to join us.”

“That’s sweet of you, Misty, but we’ve been away long enough,” Delia replied, to both kids’ relief. “It’s time we headed home. Thank you both so much for such an amazing battle.” She hugged Ash tightly. “Don’t stay away too long, honey.”

“You know I won’t, Mom,” Ash replied, blushing. He shot Misty a grin. “I’ll be home right after I kick Misty’s butt in our rematch!”

“Then I’ll see you soon,” Delia murmured. She let go of her son and gave Misty a quick hug and a wink. “Try not to beat him too badly!”

“Hey!” Ash exclaimed indignantly.

Delia stepped back, joining her girlfriend near the door of the Pokémon Centre. She gave her a look and nodded to both kids. With a sigh, Jessie trudged up to Ash and gave him a stiff hug.

“See you at home, kid,” she mumbled. Letting go, she turned to Misty. “Thanks for the battle and the badge, I guess...?”

The two gazed at each other for a few awkward moments, then Jessie took a step closer, slowly lifting her arms.

“Aah!” Misty hurriedly moved back, holding her hands up in front of her. “I don’t think I’m there yet.”

Jessie dropped her arms with a huge sigh of relief. “Great! Me neither.” She offered her hand instead, and the Gym Leader shook it.

Ash and Misty stepped outside the Pokémon Centre to see them off, their goodbyes ringing in the air as Delia and Jessie got on the road. Jessie slung her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Happy, babe?”

“Yes and no,” Delia sighed. “I’m sad my journey’s over, but I couldn’t be happier about how it went. I made three wonderful new friends, foiled a nasty poacher, and that battle today –” She clenched her fists in front of her. “ – I never felt so alive! I can’t wait to tell Professor Oak and James and Meowth all about it!” She slipped an arm around Jessie’s waist. “I’m so glad you talked me into this.”

Jessie preened. “Oh it was nothing, babe, I –”

She broke off as Delia took hold of her hands.

“Thank you for making my dreams come true,” the other woman whispered. Jessie’s heart caught in her throat as she saw tears shining in Delia’s eyes. “Not just today, but every day we’re together.”

Jessie smiled, warmth blooming in her chest.

“It’s the least I could do,” she replied. Delia deserved more, so much more, for putting up with her, believing in her, loving her. Not to mention all she’d done for James and Meowth too. Maybe one day –

- but before Jessie could continue the thought, Delia leaned up and pulled her into a tender kiss.

THE END

“Oh, I can’t wait to get home to our nice comfy bed!”

“Ugh, me too. I hate sleeping on the ground.”

“…who said anything about sleeping?”

#hanamusa comic #hanamusashipping #hanamusa #fanfiction #jessie #delia ketchum #ash ketchum #misty #my art

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lovelytsunoda · 8 months

Text

glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri

summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.

pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader

warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)

“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”

oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“but why?”

oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”

y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.

who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.

“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”

oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.

“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”

she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”

it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).

it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.

she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.

this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?

she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.

“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”

oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”

that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.

why on earth was she agreeing to this?

“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”

the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.

“oscar, what are you doing?”

he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”

god, this man was going to be the death of her.

————

she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.

from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.

she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.

they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.

"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.

oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.

"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"

"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.

she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.

"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.

my boyfriend oscar.

"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.

oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."

carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."

"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.

oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.

australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.

but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.

________

"you've got to be shitting me."

she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.

except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.

a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.

"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"

she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"

oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.

"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."

did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?

she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.

"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."

"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.

she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.

if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-

nope. we're not going there today.

she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?

when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?

he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.

all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?

wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.

he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.

it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.

he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.

the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.

god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.

he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.

he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.

and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.

“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.

she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.

“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”

“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”

“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”

they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.

"yes."

she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.

she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.

she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.

"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."

oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"

"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."

god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.

"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."

"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."

oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."

"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.

"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."

"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."

"i look forward to it."

oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.

"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.

she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.

"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."

she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.

in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.

"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.

it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.

"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."

he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."

he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.

-------

they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.

"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."

"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."

"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"

fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.

the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.

she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.

"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."

she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."

oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."

"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."

"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."

-------

the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.

that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.

but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.

oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.

"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."

oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"

y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."

oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"

all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.

y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.

sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.

"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."

"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."

the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.

"can i have this dance, my love?"

she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.

man, she could really get used to this.

get used to oscar.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #the cozy collection 2023 #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #Spotify

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ohthewh0rror · 6 months

Text

ETERNALLY YOURS.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — The follow up to ‘I’ve Dug Two Graves For Us, My Dear.’ Now that your marriage has been irreparably damaged, where do the two of you go from here?

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word count: 2k

A/N: I changed my mind after writing a completely different ending. At first I wanted to make it angst-filled and unhappy but I keep writing sad stuff, and you guys deserve a break. Thank you to my best friend Madie for proof-reading/editing this once again and to @brooklynscherry-z for helping me get a better understanding of Tom & Mattheo’s lore. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this (much shorter) continuation to ‘I’ve Dug Two Graves For Us, My Dear”!

“A letter arrived for you this morning, Y/N,” came the soft voice of your great aunt Delia, her wrinkled hand holding the letter out for you. For a second you were confused, unsure of who would have sent you a letter, especially at such an early hour, until it dawned on you.

Your husband.

A pang of hurt hit your heart at the thought of him. It had been two months since you had seen or spoken to him and though you hated him, another, smaller, part of you missed him terribly. He had been your first love and dearest friend, and his infidelity wasn’t enough to completely erase the love you’ve held for him since the two of you were only seventeen.

As you held the letter in your hands you contemplated not opening it, to instead toss it in the trash and forget it ever arrived. You eyed the entrance to the kitchens, the trash was right through that door, you could throw it away and leave the contents of the letter a mystery. But, as you turned the letter over in your hands, you felt curiosity eating at the back of your mind, beckoning you to open the letter and dissect its contents.

‘Well…it couldn’t hurt,’ you thought, gently unfolding the parchment. As your eyes skimmed over the opening of the letter, you soon realized this was not a letter you should read in the company of others. Folding the letter back up, you looked at your aunt, asking “may I be excused?”

Her eyes darted between the parchment and your eyes, and she looked as if she wanted to ask you something but she waved you off instead, wordlessly telling you that you may take your leave.

You gave her a nod of gratitude before heading to the room you were staying in, trying your hardest to seem normal. Once you entered your room, you made sure to lock the doors and cast a silencing charm for good measure. You did not want your aunt to hear you in the event that you became upset.

Sitting at the desk in the corner of your room, you unfolded the letter and began to read it once again.

Dear Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you well. It has been two months since I have seen or spoken to you, and I must admit that I miss you more than I thought myself capable of. I understand that what I did was unforgivable in your eyes, but I hope by telling you everything it will help you process what is going on so we may move forward from this.

A year ago I approached Bellatrix with the proposition of conceiving and carrying my heir. I explained I did this out of a need to produce an heir and you had not been able to get pregnant yourself. Once she had the child, the child would be ours to raise, she was merely going to be a surrogate of sorts; she understood and agreed to the terms and from there we began the affair.

She finally fell pregnant 6 months ago with a boy. While I should've told you about my plans before approaching her, I most definitely should have told you once she was with child. I am sincerely sorry that you found out the way you did. I wish I could have told you myself, under better circumstances.

Please consider coming back home so that we may be a proper family.

Eternally yours, Tom

You felt a few tears slip out and drip from your eyes onto the parchment, smearing the ink that stained the page with its terrible words. Oh how you wish he hadn’t written to you. His answers did not bring any form of acceptance of his actions, only further heartbreak. It was hard for you to comprehend how he could have sex with her and then return home to you as if all was normal.

“Reducio,” you muttered, shrinking the letter. You carefully folded it, being sure not to rip it, before you got out of your seat and made your way to your closet. On the top shelf, in the furthest corner, sat an intricately carved wooden box with flowers lining the top and sides. The initials M.R sat right above the lock. You conjured a small stepping stool, but even with the stool you were still unable to reach it, leaving yourself to blindly swipe your hand across the shelf till you finally felt your fingers bump the edge.

With what you were looking for finally in your grasp, you got off the stool and went back to your desk. You sat down again, reaching towards one of the desk drawers, and pulling it open to retrieve the small key for the box. As soon as the lock clicked, you opened the top, revealing an empty interior.

The box was made to hold important milestone objects and keepsakes for your son. You planned to fill it with your own letters and pictures so that you could look back on it when he is older and no longer needs you, to remind yourself of simpler times. You hadn’t planned on putting anything related to Tom in there. The thought of him was far too painful, and you didn’t want to taint the little bits of happiness within.

Taking the shrunken letter you placed it in the box before sliding off your wedding ring and putting it on top of the letter. As you closed the box once again, you felt as if you were also closing the metaphorical lid on your marriage. You wouldn’t grace Tom with your presence, a simple letter would have to suffice as you decided you were going to effectively cut him out of your life.

Dear Tom,

I will keep this letter simple and to the point. I appreciate your honesty and your willingness to take some form of accountability for your actions, as I know it’s not something that comes easy to you. But, I will not be returning home nor will we be playing at being a happy family. If you want to be a family as badly as you say, then leave our marriage intact but let us live separate lives. Don’t worry, I do not plan to date or remarry, for you are my first and final love.

That all being said, do not contact me again unless it is with divorce proceedings.

P.s. congratulations on the heir you always wanted.

Sincerely, Y/N

Putting your quill down, you read over the letter one more time to be sure this was what you wanted your final words to him to be. Satisfied with what you wrote, you got out of your chair once again and left the room, heading towards the back garden where you knew the owl belonging to your aunt would be.

Walking into the small building that housed her owl you saw the bird, Chipp, still here and not away delivering mail for your aunt. You gave Chipp a few treats as a thank you for going out in the cold for delivering this letter for you before holding the letter out for the owl to take. Chipp happily took the parchment and flew off to take the letter to its recipient.

That was the last time you spoke to Tom. As the months turned to years, Tom became a distant, painful memory.

11 years later

“Mattheo! Wait up!” You called out to your son, as he excitedly ran ahead of you. You were winded trying to keep up with him, trying hard not to lose him in the crowd of teary-eyed mothers and nervous children. When you finally caught up to him, you grabbed him by the shoulder, halting him. “I understand you’re excited, but will you try not to run off,” you were panting slightly, “I would at least like to tell you goodbye.”

Mattheo looked exasperated, trying already to seem too cool to tell his mother bye. “But mum—” he started, trying to justify his running off. “No buts; now, let me see you,” you said, motioning him to turn around. He groaned, turning around to face you. You held him by his arms in front of you, “listen, and actually listen to me for once; listen to your professors and don’t cause trouble, I know how—” you paused mid sentence when something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.

It was your husband.

Your husband, who you hadn’t seen in 11 years, with a young boy standing beside him. The two of you locked eyes and you felt a wave of discomfort hit you. How could you have been so stupid? Of course he would be here, his son and Mattheo are close in age, they’d obviously go to school together.

You decided to skip the speech and quickly walk further up the platform, trying to put more room between you and Tom. You didn’t want Tom to approach you and attempt to talk to you or your son. Mattheo didn’t need to go through such a confusing altercation on such an important day. This day was only about him and you wanted it to be special.

Once you put a satisfying amount of room between the two of you, you stopped and your son decided to ask why that man was staring at you. Waving him off, you explained, “he’s just someone I used to know, that’s all.” Mattheo looked like he had more questions, but you didn’t give him the chance to ask them. Instead, you gave him a parting kiss on the forehead and told him goodbye before all but pushing him onto the train.

You backed away and watched Mattheo walk further into the train before he finally disappeared from sight. You felt your eyes well up with tears at the reality of your son leaving for Hogwarts, giving you definitive proof of how old he was getting. It made you wish you possessed a time turner, just so you could go back to the beginning and do it all over again.

As you shuffled back toward the exit, you were lost in thought over how Mattheo would do at Hogwarts. What house would he be in? Would he make friends? How would he do academically? You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed someone closing in on you until it was too late.

You felt a hand wrap around your bicep and pull you back slightly causing you to stumble into their chest. You whipped around, about to give the owner of the offending hand a piece of your mind when you saw who was touching you.

Tom looked at you, and though his face remained neutral, you swear you saw a glint of hurt in his eyes. He released your arm only to place a hand on the small of your back, “walk with me, Y/N?”

You hesitated for a second before giving him a small nod and walking with him back towards the entrance to platform 9 ¾. There was a moment of tense, awkward silence before he spoke.

“What is his name?” Tom asked. You thought about whether you wanted to tell him or not, as you knew where this conversation was headed.

“Mattheo,” was all you said. Not giving away his full name, as you weren’t ready to admit you’d given him Tom’s last name.

Tom went silent again and you looked up to see him deep in thought. Not wanting to make the situation any more uncomfortable by just staring at him, you looked away, waiting for him to speak once again. Though, once he spoke, you wish he had kept the awkward silence between you two.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @mypolicemanharryyy @jessysfangirlworld @homan-oid @motherofdragons1998 @theeslutintheroom @pasta01 @lovefks @mwahbella @storminacloud @brooklynscherry-z @eri-s-big-sis @eversei @tomhollandisabae @rlblackbarbie @cyphah @cookielovesbook-akie

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #take it #I’m going to bed

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robotic-rin · 6 months

Text

Why Wait For The Best When I Could Have You

(Beetlejuice x Reader)

Summary: In the light of recent notable events, you haven’t been quite sure how to be forthcoming with the family regarding your budding relationship with a certain demon. It doesn’t help that said demon isn’t known for his ability to keep secrets. Also, hopefully your mind isn’t too preoccupied making plans to soft launch your relationship, because Beetlejuice has had something on his mind lately that he’d really like to try out. It may or may not involve indulging his demonic instincts by hunting you for sport as foreplay. He’s lucky that he’s dating a monsterfucker.

Word Count: 24,092

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: even crazier demon sex this time, predator/prey dynamic, somewhat monster-y beetlejuice, temperature play, consensual possession, tentacle sex, copious amounts of biting, overstimulation, just a dash of breeding kink, oh we’re making this one HORNY-horny folks, porn with an unreasonable amount of plot, plot segments range from domestic fluff to hurt/comfort, more of beej’s mood ring hair being used to further my nefarious agendas, afab reader but with no gendered terms, tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there

Author’s Note: ok so i saw the very final showing of beetlejuice on broadway and it did inspire me to write a sequel to my fic that was originally meant to be a one shot. seeing alex brightman in the flesh was absolutely bonkers, there will never be another beetlejuice in my mind (though i’ve since seen justin on tour who is beyond awesome in the role too! alex is just my personal fave). my brain is like a snowglobe and beej is just rattling around in there so i had to write something. this can kinda stand on its own but i’d recommend reading the first fic in the series before this (linking it right here). as usual, check the tags before reading, make sure you’re good with em, and hope y’all enjoy!

“You did WHAT?”

You feel the welcoming presence of immediate regret falling over you as Barbara shoots a glare at Adam following his outburst. Maybe I should’ve told Delia first instead.

Adam seems to recoil in embarrassment at his wife’s disapproving look. “That is to say, that’s just, um…surprising! That you would accept Beetlejuice’s…unique advances. You just didn’t seem the, er, type.” His eyes dart between you and Barbara as he fumbles for words. “Okay, I’m just making it worse. Barbara, please, help.”

Barbara seems more than willing to swoop in and try to save this conversation. “What Adam is trying to say is, we love Beetlejuice, of course, he’s like family! We just didn’t expect that you would take to him so quickly and…enthusiastically! He’s a bit of an acquired taste for most people, like…quinoa salad! I mean, between the constant inappropriate comments, and the way he, to be frank, smells like a lawnmower on the best of days.” She laughs, just a bit too forced to sound natural but you’ll be damned if she isn’t doing her best to keep things polite.

Adam nods fervently. “Exactly, Barbara! Like, we’ve both kissed the guy through strange extenuating circumstances in the past, but it’s not like it was enjoyable!” He earns a swift elbow to the ribs from Barbara after that one. He lets out a soft oof and slumps against the side of the old loveseat where he and Barbara are seated across from you in the attic.

Barbara quickly turns and reaches to gently grasp your hands in hers. “Sweetie, it’s not that we aren’t happy for you, and Beetlejuice too. We just know that he can be a bit…much, after awhile, even for us. That might be a lot to deal with 24/7. I mean, it’s one thing if you didn’t have options, but someone like you? We always imagined you maybe with someone more, say…put together! Literally, when it comes to that guy.”

You shuffle uncomfortably in your chair, absentmindedly picking at the vibrant red stitched cushioning. “What, are you guys trying to tell me I can do better?” Your eyes dart up from your fidgeting hands to scan their faces.

With barely a second’s pause, the two of them begin talking over each other with various overlapping shades of, “No, nono, not at all, no…”

Adam seems to be nervously waving his hands at nothing in an attempt to dispel your accusation as though it were fog. “Hey, you’re a grown up, whatever choices you make, we support you one hundred percent! You just took us off-guard, I’m sorry if we come across as rude. If you’re sure about accepting Beetlejuice’s romantic propositions, then Barbara and I are beyond happy for you!”

“Absolutely stoked, dude!” Barbara puts on her silly deep voice for comedic effect, still fully dedicated to keeping the conversation light despite the deep awkwardness that practically permeates the air around you.

“Um, you guys realize I’m the one who more or less initiated this, right? If anything, he accepted my…romantic gesture.” You hadn’t exactly told them the less-than-family-friendly way that your feelings had been unexpectedly revealed to Beetlejuice due to some lingering sense of dignity and privacy that hadn’t yet left you, but you do have to wonder how long that’ll stay secret considering your new lover’s absolute and utter lack of shame.

“YOU came onto HIM?” This time, it’s Barbara who accidentally lets an exclamation slip out, earning an exasperated facepalm from Adam. You distantly wonder if Lydia’s conversation will go worse than this.

***

“So, how badly did they take the news?”

“They didn’t take it badly.” You resist the urge to look over at the demon who is currently hanging upside down from the ceiling next to your bed in a very relaxed bat-like fashion. Instead, you busy yourself with folding your laundry in neat piles next to you on your sheets. Anything to keep your hands moving.

Beetlejuice lets out a small huff. “You know, you can’t look me in the eye when you’re lying. The laundry isn’t that interesting, and I am literally hanging upside down on nothing. I’m very look-at-able.”

Your eyes dart up to take in his inverted face, one eyebrow raised (or lowered, from your perspective) in challenge. Any intention of snarking back at him dissolves at seeing his cute little expression, clearly proud of his perception. Without answering, you slowly lean forward, take his head in your hands, and softly kiss his lips. It’s an odd sensation to kiss someone upside down, but the two of you make it work. He returns the gesture wholeheartedly and without hesitation, kissing you in a equally gentle manner, yet not forgetting to keep you on your toes by quickly nipping your lip at the end with a sharp fang. He may be sweet with you, but he’s still himself, through and through. Not that you’re complaining.

“That was nice,” he rumbles, from somewhere way in the back of his throat. “But…you can’t kiss me out of this conversation.”

“I mean, it seemed to be working for a minute there.”

He barks out a laugh before twisting his head right side up, the rest of his body following at a delay and landing on the floor below on both feet, like a cat. “It was a valiant effort, babes. But come on, was your conversation really that bad?”

You sigh and toss aside your unfolded clothing to leave a spot on the bed for him to sit, which he readily takes. “I mean, it’s not that it was bad, it’s just…” You struggle for the right words before slumping forwards in defeat. “I don’t know.”

“Hm,” he muses at your words, emotions uncharacteristically imperceptible for a moment. “Babes, you know I won’t be pissed at them for thinking you deserve better than me, right?”

Your eyes snap open in shock and flicker over to Beetlejuice, scanning his neutral expression. Your mouth opens to say something, to assure him, to defend the Maitlands, to say something to make him feel better, but you can’t find any words.

“‘S’okay, you don’t have to say anything. I already expected it.” Beetlejuice moves to put his hand under your chin, thumb coming up to stroke your jawline to cheek. “Honestly, I agree with those two losers. I know you care about me, how could I not when you’re always lovin’ on me and shit? But I still don’t really get why. It wasn’t just to have sex, you’ve stuck around way past getting your rocks off and even willingly gotten into all my emotional fuckery. I don’t understand why. I mean, come on, have you seen yourself? You could easily woo somebody successful who, like, knows how to cook you a meal without explosions, someone who knows how dishwashers actually work, someone who can talk for hours about books, or art, or music, or whatever it is that smart people like you talk about.” He pauses. “…Someone alive. Better than a pathetic demon who just barely got a hold on his emotions after centuries of existence, at least.”

Your heart sinks, and you raise your hand to rest on top of his own hand on your face. “You shouldn’t say such negative things about yourself, for real. I don’t think of you like that, and I’m not leaving you.” You take note of his whole frame subtly tensing at those last words. There’s the sore spot. “I promise.”

His eyes dart to the floor. “…I know.”

You briefly study his reserved features in profile before bringing your hand to his face and turning him to look at you. “I’m not leaving you.”

He meets your gaze shakily. “Okay.” It seems as if he’s holding his breath, despite the fact that he doesn’t have any biological need for air. You’ve noticed that he’ll sometimes make sounds that can only be achieved through intake or outtake of breath, and you wonder if he does it on purpose for dramatic effect or subconsciously to mirror you, like a habit or mannerism picked up from a loved one. But right now, he’s still as a rock.

“Okay,” you repeat back to him, hoping your words were of some comfort. “As for the Maitlands, it’s not like they were against it or anything. They’re just surprised, and they don’t understand yet. But they will over time. Once they see us together.” You squeeze his other hand reassuringly in his lap. “And so will everyone else.”

He quickly jumps back to life after his quiet moment. “Ohhhh fuck, I forgot we have to tell everybody else in this house too. I kinda just wanna rip off the bandaid and tongue kiss you at family movie night and never bring it up so we don’t have to talk about it with all of these dweebs.”

“You absolutely know that Lydia will say something about that.” He’s right that Charles and Delia may be too polite to mention an elephant in the room, but Lydia has certainly never had an issue with being outspoken even if it’s uncomfortable.

Beetlejuice groans, flopping back on the bed. “Yep, you’re totally right. That kid is too blunt for her own good sometimes. Honestly, I’m shocked she hasn’t noticed something going on between us yet, cuz we’d totally know it if she had.”

You flop back onto the bed next to him, ignoring the tower of folded clothes that your head knocks over in the process. “To be fair, it’s only been a little over a week since we…got together.” What a polite way of saying we fucked like rabbits.

“Hm, maybe so, but you can’t deny the rich sexual tension that we’ve had going on for waaayyy longer than that, doll.” He winks at you and sticks out his tongue to punctuate the statement.

You let out a pure belly laugh at his words, playfully nudging his shoulder with your own. “Dumbass.”

Beetlejuice’s grin widens. “Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” He nudges you back slightly harder, so of course you have to do the same in return to keep your honor intact. Before you know it, he’s on top of you, leaving you unsure if he teleported or simply moved positions very quickly. Cheeks already flushing at the precarious position, you try your best to fight back against him feebly, attempting to throw or push him off and finding no success. Beetlejuice, on the other hand, is just laughing childishly at your predicament as he easily swats away your hands that attempt to push him away.

“I don’t take it back,” you announce stubbornly, still trying to get any sort of leverage on the demon but finding none. He clearly outclasses you in both weight and strength, but you’re not one to let the odds deter you in this game.

“Oho, you’re gonna regret that.” The next time your hand moves to shove at him, Beetlejuice instead deftly catches and holds it by the wrist, immediately doing the same when you bring up your other hand to fight him off. After capturing both of your hands securely, he easily pushes them onto the bed on either side of your head, his nose inches from your own. With you effectively pinned to the bed, his eyes lock with yours in a half-lidded teasing gaze, smirk only growing wider as you squirm beneath him to no avail. “Aww, aren’t you so cute trying to get away from me?”

“This isn’t helping your case of not being an asshole.” If you can’t fight him off physically, you can at least be satisfied a bit by digging your heels into the dirt with your words. The more time you spend being silly with him, the more you understand the joy that he finds in pushing people’s buttons.

Beetlejuice doesn’t respond, and you know him well enough at this point to recognize this as his tell-tale warning sign of impending mischief. Wordlessly, he breaks the locked gaze that he had going with you to look down at the rest of your trapped form. Before you can think of a witty remark, he moves almost faster than you can perceive to press his lips to your neck and blows a raspberry against your skin. Taken completely off guard by this vicious attack, you let out a shriek and begin wiggling around to try and loosen yourself from his grasp, legs kicking but unable to aid you in your escape. He rewards your efforts with a sickly sweet smile and another attack.

“You-hu-hu dick!” Your insult only spreads his smile wider, which in turn makes you want to get out of his grip and launch a counter-attack even more.

“Wow, what a nasty little breather you are. Maybe if you took back your hurtful words, I’d stop.” He demonstrates his ruthlessness by giving you another raspberry right where your neck meets your collarbone, his scruffy beard tickling horribly against your skin and driving you wild. You’re unable to hide your laughter at this point, both at the sensations and his silly antics.

“F-fine! Fine! I take it back! You are NOT an asshole at all! Happy?”

He brings his head back up to brush noses with you, a self-satisfied and victorious grin plastered to his face. “Was that so hard?”

You wrinkle your nose at him as you struggle to catch your breath, trying not to show on your face the overwhelming fondness that is currently washing over you. He’s unspeakably cute above you, delighting in a silly little game, while simultaneously straddling you in a way that’s making it even harder to settle your racing heart. With nothing witty to say, you crane your head forward to lock lips with him again, savoring the sweetness of his joyful surprise. Kissing you does at least make him let go of your hands, his need to touch you outweighing his dedication to your game. Your hands come up to grab at his hair, their new favorite spot to rest, as your kisses intensify. Beetlejuice makes a low noise and slips his long tongue into your mouth, the still-odd but welcome intrusion making you groan lightly. Part of you hopes you never fully get used to the demon’s otherworldly qualities, hopes that the way your stomach flips in surprise at feeling sharp fangs graze against your lips never dulls. You move your lips back against him with this thought in mind.

Knock, knock, knock. The sound of a rapping at your closed but unlocked door immediately pulls the two of you apart, Beetlejuice wearing a sour face at the interruption.

“(Y/N)? Can I come in or what?” The easily recognizable voice of Lydia causes you to practically throw Beetlejuice off from on top of you, and he ungracefully falls off of the bed and onto his backside with a thump. You find yourself caught between mouthing “sorry”’s and waving him away from your bed and hopefully getting across the message to act natural.

“S-sure Lydia, come on in!” You try to straighten yourself out to look presentable and inconspicuous within the next few seconds, too preoccupied with smoothing over your clothes to even check to see what Beetlejuice is doing. Before you have another moment to prepare, the door swings open and in walks the goth teen that you’ve been sharing a house with for the past few months.

“Hey, Delia just wanted me to ask if you’d help with…what are you doing?” Lydia eyes you up from the doorway as you sit with your hands folded politely on your bed.

“Oh, you know, just folding clothes!” You speak in a tone that feels far too cheery coming out of your mouth, but it’s too late for a do-over.

“Uh-huh.” Lydia crosses her arms, her eyes wandering to the knocked-over tower of once-folded clothes next to you that have since become wildly strewn about during your scrap and ensuing makeout session with Beetlejuice. “You’re doing a pretty bad job at it.”

You mentally facepalm. “Ha, yeah, I guess I am…” Your voice trails off awkwardly and you pray for this conversation to be over.

Lydia raises an eyebrow, clearly picking up the odd atmosphere but hopefully not exactly sure where it’s coming from. “Alright.” Her eyes flit over to where you last saw Beetlejuice heading, and only now do you think to follow her gaze and see what he’s up to, to which you immediately wish you hadn’t. He’s floating multiple feet away from your bed, reclined in the air like he doesn’t have a care in the world, licking his finger and flipping through a book that is clearly upside down.

“Oh, hi Lyds! What’s up?” He does finger guns at her, the book still floating in place without his touch.

Lydia furrows her brow. “Dude, what’s wrong with your hair?” You snap back into reality with this statement as you realize that BJ’s hair is a gradient of light pink to a slightly darker fuchsia starting at his roots, probably not a color that anyone has really seen on him but you.

Beetlejuice’s face falls. “Uh. Well. You know.” He visibly struggles for words. “Romance novel. Heh.” He gestures to the book, which very prominently reads INTRO TO PHYSICS in bold letters across the front, not to mention the fact that it is still very much upside down.

Lydia nods as if that clears it all up. “Ahh, riiiight.” She turns back to you. “Anyways, Delia wanted me to ask if you’d help cut vegetables or whatever for dinner…”

You clasp your hands together as if nothing on this Earth could bring you more joy than slicing up some carrots for Delia. “Oh, of course! Tell her I’ll be right down, thanks for relaying the message!” You also do finger guns at her for no reason.

“Will do, weirdo.” She turns on her heels and shuts the door behind her without another word. You and Beetlejuice both let out a sigh of relief and you practically collapse back on the bed.

Beetlejuice floats over and collapses next to you, his body facing the opposite direction of yours. “Okay, so she definitely knows something is up.”

***

Those carrots never could’ve seen it coming, I chopped them up so well. You take a bite of the steaming hot home-cooked dinner that you lightly contributed to with satisfaction. The rest of the family eats at their usual seats at the table, conversing about whatever random topics to fill the silence between bites of food. Adam and Barbara have plates of food as well, despite not physically needing to eat. You figure it’s more of an etiquette thing with them. Beetlejuice also has his own plate, but it’s one of those children’s paper plates with an animal face on it, which is the only thing he is allowed to use ever since he proved that he cannot be trusted with the nice glass plates. You can feel his eyes on you as you eat. He’s possibly the least subtle person in the world, living or non.

“So yeah, I think I singed my eyebrows mostly off but I did get an A on my chemistry project, so it’s all cool,” Lydia concludes her story for the family, which you realize that you were accidentally zoned out for the majority of.

“Hey, careful, we don’t need any more ghosts around here!” Adam jokes, making a ribbing motion towards Lydia in the most over-the-top dad-like way.

Charles laughs through a bite of mashed potatoes. “Well, that’s certainly one way to pass a class! You’re absolutely your mother’s daughter, Lydia. You know, Emily pulled nearly that same trick when she was still in college. She’d be proud to know you’re carrying on the family legacy!”

Lydia smiles, a genuine smile that she doesn’t try to hide or diminish. “Heh, wow. That’s pretty awesome, dad.” She finishes the last bite of her meal and glances over at Beetlejuice. “Wow BJ, you haven’t even touched your slop yet.”

Beetlejuice jolts as he’s called out, and spares a look down at his plate. “Slop” is the right word for it, considering that he seems to have just poured all of his food into one big mixed-up pile like a nasty lunatic, the carrots indistinguishable from the meat and all of them lost in a sea of gravy together. Without a word, he unhinges his jaw like a snake and tosses the entire concoction down his gullet whole, swallowing everything (yes, including the plate itself) in one bite with an exaggerated gulp sound effect. He gives a thumbs up at Lydia with an unchanged blank expression, which doesn’t exactly do much to make him seem more normal.

Lydia makes a weird face at him. “Okay man, what gives? You’ve been acting weird as hell lately, and not your regular weird. You gonna let us in on what’s up or keep being all cagey?”

In your peripheral vision, you see the Maitlands immediately seem to decide that their plates just magically became the most interesting things in the room, and very worthy of their close scrutiny. You feel stuck between saying something to help out the petrified-looking demon across the table from you and staying silent to avoid further incriminating yourself.

Delia’s singsong voice breaks you from your trance. “Okay! I am uncomfortable with the energy at this dinner table and would like to move on…!” She clasps her hands together whimsically. “Now then, I have a new and exciting plan. Let’s clean up these dishes and all watch a m-“

“I slept with (Y/N).”

…Horror. That’s the only word that you can possibly use to describe your emotions in this exact moment. And from where you assume your soul is now floating outside of your body, you can see that you’re not alone, as Beetlejuice is currently the epicenter of horrified looks from everyone in the room. He slowly turns to look at you, his head seeming as though it should be making a pathetic creaking noise. His eyes are stretched so wide that they look like they could bulge out at any moment, looking dead ahead with his lips pulled tight into a long, flat line. Without a word being uttered from anyone at the table, he begins to sink into the floor. Literally. Beetlejuice slowly phases straight through the chair, into the floor, and out of sight. And just like that, he is gone. You distantly wonder if you should start cursing his name or if you’re just jealous that he has the ability to do that right about now.

Lydia finally pipes up. “Wow, you guys are shit at keeping secrets.”

***

After what you can confidently call the most awkward family conversation of your entire life, you finally make it back to your room and shut the door behind you, slumping against it in defeat. That was NOT how I originally wanted that conversation to go. I’m lucky that Lydia, Charles, and Delia were pretty chill about the whole deal, all things considered.

A rustling from your vintage armoire (perks of a pre-furnished room) snaps you back into reality. You take a tentative step towards the closed brown doors and press a hand to the old wood. The rustling stops abruptly.

“…Beetlejuice?” You call out softly, drumming your fingers against the door in a pseudo-knock. A small rustle answers you, and nothing more.

You move your fingers to lift the latch lock into its unlocked position and slowly creak both doors open. There, under your waterfall of hanging clothes, lies Beetlejuice: curled up in a little ball, hair a deep shade of purple, looking up at you with puffy dark eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers, before you can even get a word out. “I’m stupid. Good for nothin’. I ruined your plan to tell everyone about us nicely.” You open your mouth, but he holds up a hand dramatically. “N-no need to say anything. I’ll go be a disappointment in someone else’s boudoir.” He materializes a small bindle over his shoulder and moves his hand up to snap himself somewhere else.

“Hey, wait, don’t go.” You gently grab his hand that he was about use to snap himself away, more of a symbolic gesture to stay than anything. “You’re not any of those things, and I don’t want you to leave.”

“I…” A look of slight surprise graces his forlorn face at both your words and touch. His earnest eyes seem to be searching your own for any sign of lies, and, finding none, he lowers his hand from your touch and disappears the bindle. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I really didn’t.” His voice has such a vulnerable touch to it, like a dog who had grown accustomed to being kicked and couldn’t find it in himself to expect any different. It truly breaks your heart to see, despite the lingering sense of embarrassment from dinner.

You sit outside of the large dresser, crossing your legs and leaning against its frame. “I know, bug. I’m not mad at you. I mean, I would’ve preferred maybe a softer phrasing if we had any control, but Lydia put you on the spot and we hadn’t even talked about how we would say it. It’s okay.” You bring your hand up to gently pet his hair, testing his reception to physical comfort right now. You get your answer when he leans into your hand with his entire head almost immediately.

“No kidding…kid had our number, babes. Or at least mine. But hey, least I didn’t say it like we bumped uglies or anything, I was pretty close and what I did say was all else I could think of right then. Mind couldn’t keep up with my mouth.” He lets out a labored sigh and smushes more of his face up against your hand like a particularly affectionate cat.

You give a small grin at his head bumps of love. “Yeah, well I have firsthand experience with how fast your mouth can be, so that checks out.”

A giggle that Beetlejuice couldn’t quite hold back slips out, a melodic sound to you. “Making sex jokes isn’t fair. You know I’ll always laugh at sex jokes.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I do know it.” You sit up on your haunches and lean in to lightly pepper his face with tiny kisses, only worsening the demon’s grip on his composure. The giggles that start to pour out of him uncontrollably are infectious, and you quickly find yourself unable to hold back your own. You continue your attack, enjoying the view as you watch tips of light pink begin to crawl up a few of his purple hair strands without his knowledge. After a good bit of shared laughter at your unrelenting kisses, Beetlejuice finally catches your mouth with his own. The feeling of his smile against your lips is sweeter than candy, and succeeds at making you forget all of your troubles for as long as it lasts. You suspect that he feels the same, considering that you are always, without fail, the first one to break away from every kiss due to your inconvenient need for oxygen. If it were up to him, you two might not ever come up for air.

When you pull back from him breathlessly, Beetlejuice’s eyes remain fixed on you, soft and almost perplexed as he searches for something unknowable in your expression. “Why do you love me back?” His voice comes out as a whisper despite the two of you being alone, as if he’s frightened what the walls of the home will think upon hearing his weakness.

“Oh, Beetlejuice…” You feel your loving gaze that remains locked onto him become tinged with layers of sadness, pitying the man who just can’t see himself the way you do. You reason that the best you can do is try to paint him a picture of your vision. “Where to even begin…? I can’t even say when or where I first fell in love with you, it’s like, I just realized one day that it had already happened to me without asking my permission. Yeah, I was really physically attracted to you, as we’re both well aware by now, but it’s more than that. I never wanted you to be just a hookup without anything past that.” Your hand finds its way to his own, an anchor to real life as you struggle to put your feelings to words in a way that will help him. “Beetlejuice, I love spending time with you. You’re the funniest person I know, and I’ve never had a dull moment with you. I could spend years watching bad movies and pranking the Maitlands with you and never get tired of your company. And, maybe my favorite thing about you is, try as you might sometimes, you can never actually hide how much you care about the people you love. I mean, you and Lydia squabble, but that kid is so important to you, I can see it. If she ever came home and said a teacher was picking on her, you’d probably go light their house on fire for being mean to your friend. That’s, like, the most attractive thing ever, if we’re being real here.” You’re blushing red hot at the earnest nature of your own words but do your best to keep your eyes from darting away bashfully. “Look, I…I wish I could say it better, so that you wouldn’t have to feel like you’re not good enough ever again. I wish I could fix things for you with pure strength of will, because I would be able to do it in a heartbeat. It kills me to know that you don’t always see yourself as worthwhile and lovable. I know you have stuff to work through, and honestly, so do I, but I wanna be with you to see it through. I’m all in, baby, you’re never getting rid of me. And I really do love you, so, so much.”

When you finally can savor your breath again after talking for so long without much pause and really take Beetlejuice in, you see two dark eyes looking back at you through a stream of tears. While one hand is still holding onto yours, the other is pressed up against his mouth tightly by his palm, as though to keep any sounds locked deep inside of him. Even so, he can’t quite stop a small sob from shaking his body, then another.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you attempt to soothe, craning your head to rest against his side, your chin grazing his lap as you look up at him. A more intimate touch, but not domineering and overwhelming, you hope.

Beetlejuice lets go of your hand to wipe at his eyes frantically, trying to clear away tears as more just keep flowing out of him. Now that he’s let one sob slip through, he seems to have fully lost his control as his body is wracked by more and more against his will. “I-I’m sorry, sorry…”

“Please don’t be.” You keep your head pressed against his side in a way that you hope is comforting to him. For a few moments, the two of you just sit there without speaking. You, praying that what you said was worded correctly, and Beetlejuice, trying and failing to stifle his weeping for so long and so hard that it eventually just dissolves into quiet hiccups.

After a bit of silence, Beetlejuice finally seems to calm down. “Wow, that was really embarrassing.” He speaks still lower than usual, but closer to his normal register.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry, that was supposed to make you feel better,” you sigh, bringing your head back up to be level with him (more like a bit below him, as the armoire’s bottom shelf is slightly above the ground level where you sit).

“No, s’okay. I think that was good for me to hear from you, probably. It was just…a lot. ‘Specially for someone who tries to avoid dealing with emotional crap as much as possible.” He turns to look at you, really look at you, for the first time since he broke down crying. “N-not saying what you said to me was crap! Not at all, don’t get me wrong. Just kinda…overwhelming, getting told so much good stuff about me at one time. Not used to it, kinda freaked me out in the moment. Buncha criticism at once, sure, that’s an average Tuesday, but that’s different.”

You smile lightly at his words, taking note of the purple beginning to fade from his hair and being replaced with his usual green, in addition to streaks of light pink. “I meant everything I said, y’know. Those are just a few of the reasons that you’re stuck with me, I could give you a list triple that size if I had some ample prep time and a better grasp on flowery love language.”

“Heh, you are too cute. C’mere.” Beetlejuice grabs your entire torso clumsily by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up and into the armoire, crashing your entire body against his lounging form. The two of you go from fully separated to tangled together in a tight space very quickly, leaving you to yelp in surprise as you try to adjust your positioning without much room to do so. The fact that the bottom portion of the armoire has a lip that comes up a few inches in front of where the doors close is all that separates you from losing your balance and falling right out. Kind of a miracle we’re not breaking right through this! Not sure if that’s demon magic or if this old thing is just sturdy as hell.

Try as you might, your legs being all tangled up and too long for the space keeps you from properly lifting yourself off of him for more than a second. “Well, I’m right here now, bug. Better?” As if to punctuate this, you lose your bracing and drop yourself with a thunk back onto his chest, which shakes below you with laughter at your predicament.

“Oh yeah babes, nice to see you still can’t keep yourself off of me.” Beetlejuice snickers, but does help your slippery ass out by pushing your chest backwards a bit, making you sit up more securely and straddle him on your knees.

You look down at him from your improved vantage point, taking in his mischievous little expression and wondering how long that’s been plastered on his face. “And just what are you thinking about right now?”

He meets your questioning eyes, sly smile only growing. “Oh, nothing. Just that I’ve never had sex in a boudoir before.”

“Baby, I can barely fit in here with you, I have no idea how sex could even take place in here.” As you speak, you also become aware of the clothing hanging just above your head, and do giggle to yourself at the idea of repeatedly smacking your head against a pair of pants in this scenario.

“Well that’s ‘cuz you’re not using your imagination, my love.” You feel his hands move down to grope at your ass as he teasingly enunciates your little pet name. “It’s fine though, it is a little shallow for two in here.” With that, he poofs the two of you onto your own bed, and you sprawl out gratefully on top of him, stretching your cramped limbs out.

“Sorry bug, my human body can’t be contorted that way for very long like yours can.” Your joints pop in relief as you go full starfish on top of your demon boyfriend, snuggling your head up against his chest. “I’ll do anything else you want, as long as I’m not smushed into a box to fuck.”

“Anything?” The tone in his voice makes it seem like his ears have perked up at your words in extreme interest.

You lift your head off of his chest to look him in the eye, a playful glint in your own. “Ah, it sounds to me like you might already have an idea here.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes quickly dart away, his cheeks flushed pink. “Ah, I mean- not, y’know, necessarily per se…” His defensive mumbles fade into unintelligible hums as he twiddles his fingers nervously.

“You’re cute when you’re shy.” You bump your forehead against his, forcing him to look at you since your eyes are mere inches from his own. “Y’know, it’s just about the only time you don’t have a clever comeback.” The mumbles that he makes in response only prove your point and make you giggle, pulling your head back and rolling over to lay next to him. “But really, BJ, you can tell me. You know I won’t laugh or think you’re weird….er than usual.”

He fidgets with the fabric of the sheets beneath him. “I know you won’t, I just…” He falls silent, seeming at war with himself over what to do. Being this coy about matters of sex is extremely odd for Beetlejuice, which of course, only piques your interest on what he could be so hesitant about even more.

You place your hand on his bicep, wishing that he’d ditched the classic striped suit before the conversation started so you could feel his cool skin underneath. “Hey, I know I’ve mostly taken the lead the few times we’ve had sex since getting together, but it doesn’t have to be that way every time. You know I’m willing to try different stuff if it’s with you. The real question is, what do you want to do?”

“I mean- I just like whatever you like, you know th-“

“Beetlejuice.” His eyes finally flick back over to make contact with yours, the power of you saying his full name is enough to get his attention on you and his mind out of his own thoughts a little. Your eyes soften at his hesitance. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Your thoughts matter to me. Promise.”

He seems to visibly soothe under your reassurances, though his face is still a bit twisted up. “I just- I mean, I guess I’ve always wanted to…” He drapes an open palm over his red-hot face, ever the drama queen.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe try, like, I dunno…hunting you down like a demon would and fucking you ‘til you forget your own name…” He chances a single glance at you through his fingers. “Something like that?” His words were spoken at about three times his normal speed, but you made sure not to miss a single syllable of that confession.

“Oh? Is that so?” You drag your words out in a sweet tone, relishing the way that he peeks at you from behind his strategically draped hand. “You wanna give me the full haunted house demon treatment before fucking me?”

Beetlejuice sits fully up, no longer able to stay reclined back on the bed or hide his enthusiasm as he talks. “Yes, yes, God yes, please, I h-haven’t thought of anything else in so long…! I wanna use my powers on you too, y’know, only if you’d be okay with that…” The floodgates have opened, and his eyes peer down at you with a vicious mix of lust and approval-seeking.

You meet his gaze with a half-lidded smile, sitting up to mirror his position. “Abso-fucking-lutely. Okay, don’t even say too much now, I’ve just decided I want you to completely surprise me on this.”

Uncertainty shrouds his expression. “You’re really okay with being scared by me, like that?”

You grin at his concern for you, internally cooing over how cute he’s being about such a lewd idea. “Baby, I hope I feel more scared than I’ve ever been before and powerless against such a big, scary demon, too. I know you respect me and wouldn’t cross any boundary that I didn’t want crossed, especially since we just the other day talked about the specifics in that department. We can use the same stoplight safeword setup as we have before, that seemed to work pretty well. So, think you can do that for me? Make me feel like I’m at the mercy of some terrifying ghost haunting my house before making me cum my brains out?”

He suppresses a groan, from far deep down in his chest. “Fuck, y-yeah, I think I can do that. Y’know, as a favor to your horny self, of course. Since you asked and all.”

You let out a giggle at his antics. “What, are you trying to tell me that it doesn’t make you horny to think about? That doesn’t sound like the Beej I know. I’m pretty sure you were at half-mast yesterday when I was just washing a zucchini in the kitchen.”

He grumbles defensively, crossing his arms but leaning in to push his shoulder into yours. “Well, try not to wash it so sluttily next time, I dunno…” His eyes dart away in embarrassment at being called out. “And hey, just a warning, but you might not be able to keep up with me if I go all-out. Remember when I told you that demons have a refractory period of like, 3.5 seconds? I wasn’t exaggerating, for once. So don’t be afraid to tell me when your little mortal body can’t take anymore.”

You have the ill-advised gall to laugh at this. “I’m not too worried about it. I’ve never had trouble keeping up with your needy ass before, so I think I’ll survive.”

Beetlejuice shrugs at your nonchalance. “Hm, if you say so. Just remember that I said it later.” He leans forward to rest his chin on his hands, as though he were preparing to gossip in bed with you. “Now, the real question is, when are we gonna get freak-ay? We do not have the amount of privacy that I’m sure you’ll want for this sorta event very often in this crowded-ass house.”

You lean forward to mirror his pose, both of you now looking like girls sharing secrets at a sleepover. “Well, I happen to know that everyone is planning to go out all day tomorrow. Including the Maitlands for once, since Lydia found out that they can possess objects and tag along for outside adventures Annabelle-style last month. Which I’d say, works out great for a human that will be home alone in the evening with the whole house to themself, eerily quiet and empty. Sure hope nothing happens.” Your demon’s pupils quickly become big round pools of inky blackness that engulf the surrounding brown iris as you say this, his body clearly giving away his interest in this idea. You flash him a knowing smirk, feeling the urge to be mean and tease him just a bit more than you should rear its head. “Think you can be patient enough to wait for it, or do you need me to give you a quick blowjob now to tide you over? I mean, I’m gonna make you wait either way, but I think I’d like to hear you ask nicely for it. Just for fun.”

As you finish speaking, Beetlejuice’s entire posture shifts in a way that you’ve never seen before. You swear that he looks slightly taller after adjusting himself to look directly at you, eyes narrowed but pupils still overtaking all of the surrounding color, fully locked on to your smaller form. “Oh-ho, my sweet, foolish little breather. I’d be more worried about yourself for the time being if I were you.” His self-satisfied smile shows off his fangs, looking even pointier than usual pressed against his bottom lip. “Now, I know you said you wanna be surprised, but I will say just one thing.” He brings a clawed hand to your cheek, stroking the soft skin gently, as though you were made of porcelain. “Make sure that tomorrow night, you’re wearing clothes that you don’t mind being ripped to shreds.” His words, spoken at a deep and salacious growl that is new to you, send a spark from the top of your spine that travels down through your entire lower body. Your visible shiver causes Beetlejuice’s slight smile to become a full grin at your reaction, and you nearly miss the intertwined streak of red and fuchsia swiftly sear its way through his hair.

You struggle to find the words to respond, his ability to turn the tables so quick has left you utterly reeling. “Uh, yeah, I can- I can do that.” And we’ve barely even begun. Maybe I really have bitten off more than I can chew.

“Good,” Beetlejuice purrs, stroking your face with claws that seem to be growing sharper by the second against your cheek. He runs them under your jawline by their tips, little pinpricks that tickle but also threaten to break the skin if he were to apply any pressure. “Oh, and uh, one more thing, my love.”

You can’t help you gulp that escapes you as his thumb and forefinger grab hold of your chin and hold you in place. “Y-yes?”

Anticipation dances behind his pretty brown eyes forebodingly. “If you run and hide from me, you’d better not let me catch you.” And just like that, it’s as though you blinked and he disappeared from your sight in an instant.

***

You adjust yourself on the living room sofa, flipping through TV channels absentmindedly. You have certainly not forgotten what Beetlejuice said to you before disappearing. On top of that, he’s made you a hyper-vigilant mess by not showing up again for the rest of the previous night and into this evening, the longest that you’ve gone without at least a pop-in visit from him since getting together. Everyone else was still gone for the day, having a lovely time out on the town, you assume. They had all said how bad they felt for leaving you behind on a family fun day, but you had fibbed a bit and told them not to worry since you were too busy with work to plan a full day out right now. Work, indeed.

A loud clap of thunder interrupts your thoughts, making you jump in surprise before sighing in relief. Hope the family isn’t getting rained out of their fun, whatever they’re doing out there. The wind is whistling outside as rain whips itself across the house with no signs of stopping. The pounding of the rain against the rooftops was creating a nice dull melody that you would to relax to, that is, if you were capable of relaxing right now. You wonder whether Beetlejuice might have any kind of influence over the weather or if the universe was just on his side for tonight. You’d by lying if you said you weren’t on edge, feeling like you’ve been standing on the edge of a precarious cliff as soon as the family left the house. He must know that you’ve been home alone for hours now, and yet he still hasn’t appeared. Unless, of course, he’s hiding in the house right now, invisible to your human eyes whenever and wherever he wants to be. As far as you know, he could be standing inches away from you, and you would be none the wiser until he chose to make himself known.

You vaguely regret the fact that you’d bent to your impulses and teased at making him wait for sex, for a multitude of reasons. A pent-up and horny Beetlejuice is an unpredictable Beetlejuice, especially when you throw in the fact that you asked him to be as rough and monstrous as possible tonight into the mix. Dread isn’t exactly the right word for what you feel, but it isn’t quite as small and easily explainable an emotion as mere anticipation either. You want him to appear more than anything, and yet all of the hair on your arms stands on end when you imagine what he’ll do when he does show up. You’ve been frustratingly wet for hours at the idea of it, unable to focus on anything else, but you haven’t touched yourself out of fear of him silently watching to see if you succumb to your own desire again, needy and impatient and desperate all because of him. The last thing he needs is such a monumental ego boost. If his goal is to play mind games and get inside my head, it’s working. You bitterly admire the restraint he’s displaying that you never would’ve imagined in a million years that he possessed.

Suddenly, another boom of thunder shakes the house, taking the lights and TV out with it and drenching you in darkness. A power outage. Awesome. Okay, stay calm. You feel around the couch cushions for your phone, but it’s nowhere to be found. Shit, I must’ve left my phone upstairs, so no dice on that flashlight for now… You quickly brainstorm an option that doesn’t feature you having to crawl up a staircase in complete darkness. Oh wait, I think Delia left some candles downstairs the other day after a long terrace meditation session! Standing up and trying to keep your balance as your eyes adjust to the sudden lack of light overtaking the house, you try to remember where the candles were last being stored. I think I saw them last when Delia was putting them in that kitchen drawer by the sink…I think.

Unsteadily, you step away from the couch and proceed in the direction of the kitchen. You’re starting to be able to make out general shapes of items in your path, but the darkness is so all-consuming that it can be hard to tell what’s real and what isn’t. You tiptoe around what could be a chair or just a dark shadow in the shape of one, taking care to reach out and touch the doorway to the kitchen with the delicate tips of your fingers before gently creaking it open. It makes far more sound in the process of opening than you would like, which you proceed to feel silly about worrying over considering that Beetlejuice is most likely not even here if he hasn’t made himself known yet. You feel you can pretty confidently conclude that he wouldn’t have this much patience, not when you’re so clearly right out in the open and defenseless.

With the door full and loudly open, you slip through and into the main kitchen area. Feeling around for the correct cabinet, you finally reach the one you were hunting for and pull the drawer out slowly. Using mostly touch, you feel around inside for the distinct texture of the long wax candle that Delia was holding in your memory, your hand skittering around the menagerie of unseeable items until your fingers finally graze its smooth surface. Your feeling of success is immediately extinguished when you hear a dull thud from the living room through the door, like the sound of something heavy being placed on the floor just a bit too quickly. At this noise, your hair immediately stands on end and you shrink towards the ground on instinct. You can’t quite see through the door at the angle you’re at, but you keep your eyes glued on the doorframe anyway. After a few moments of only utter silence following, you slowly rise back to full height. Maybe I am on edge enough to be imagining things. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard a phantom sound while I’m home alone that turned out to be nothing.

Steeling your nerves, you return your hands to the drawer to feel around for a candle lighter, keeping your body faced towards the doorway and your back facing nothing but an empty corner. The rain continues to pound against the house, lessening your sharp hearing abilities a bit with its unyielding dull roar. It’s taking you longer to find the lighter now, considering how you’re attempting to be careful to not disturb the various items in the drawer so as to make the least amount of sound possible. But the mixture of being unable to find the lighter and being on high alert from the random noise is making your heart race, and making you increasingly sloppy in your work of rustling around the drawer. You’re actually beginning to pant as you try to quicken the speed of your hands, ears ringing as you search fruitlessly for this godforsaken lighter and become only worse and worse at the task. You swear you see something move in the kitchen out of the corner of your eye, but nothing has come through the door and all of the shadows feel as though they’re closing in and grabbing at you, so you ignore your mind’s alarm bells and begin rifling through the drawer with reckless abandon. You feel as though you’re reaching a breaking point of some sort when finally, finally, you feel the cool plastic of the lighter beneath your touch. You let a shaky breath out, grasping the lighter and clicking in the button to produce a small flame.

Just as the flame sparks to life, lighting up your world just that small but significant bit, you feel your stomach drop in a way that tells you something is deeply, deeply wrong. It’s an old gut feeling, one so ancient and instinctual that it feels utterly impossible to ignore. The flame goes out, despite you still holding the button down. Before you have a chance to truly take this emotion in, you feel an unnatural chill that starts at your neck and runs all the way down your spine. You reach up to cover your neck reflexively, only for the same sensation to hit your fingers and the exposed bits of neck around it, closer and more intense. It’s only now that you realize what exactly is causing this chill against you. Breath. Cold, inhuman breath. A flat, unconvincing charade of your own breathing, carving a space for itself in the uncanny valley due to how incorrect it feels. Not only is it cold, but the breaths don’t have proper breaks between them, and they shift from being far too short to far too long to ever pass as natural. You realize upon this consideration that you’ve been frozen for more time than you meant to be, and quickly whip your body around to come face-to-face with the source of this “breathing.” But when you turn around, you’re merely greeted by empty air, same as it was before. Except that now, you feel the same breath on your neck from behind you again, causing you to once again try to turn fast enough to catch the source. And again, you fail.

Suddenly, you see a ripple in the shadows in front of you and feel a pressure push itself against your body. You scream on impulse at the contact and jump backwards, dropping your wax candle and accidentally knocking a bowl that had been left on the kitchen counter to the floor in the process, where it shatters on impact. With no time to react, you feel yourself pushed up against the same wall you had fearfully jumped towards by the same heavy force as before. You’re rendered completely immobile in seconds, some invisible, freezing cold strength holding you in place against the wall. Your arms are pinned up by your head, with most of the presence being on your torso to keep you in place. On top of the otherworldly force, you feel phantom hands begin to travel all over your body, too many to count. Over your throat, your chest, your legs, your ass. Scratching down your arms, you can barely see in the darkness as small red marks appear on them out of thin air. Without any warning, you feel something wet that you cannot see make contact with your exposed collarbone and drag its way up your neck, deliciously slow, as though you were being savored. At the same time, something sharp digs into both of your thighs at once, five little pinpricks of that grace the underside of each leg as they are lifted up and into the air, dangling uselessly. You can’t tell if blood is being drawn, but it hurts enough that you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Hurts so good. Hurts so good.

“B-Beetlejuice…” Your breathy moan pierces the otherwise silent room, and the wet appendage is pulled away from your throat slowly and deliberately. The pinpricks are lifted from your thighs and your feet come back to rest on the ground.

The shadows once again ripple, but this time, you can finally see him there, inches away from your face. His usually soft and pleasant features are so sharp and monstrous upon his self-reveal that it makes you jump a bit just to see him. He’s tall, unmistakably taller than his usual height, and looming over you with the hunched posture of a recently-transformed werewolf, some creature who was all bent out of its natural shape. Everything otherworldly about him is exaggerated, you notice, as your eyes rake over his fangs, which have become long enough to look like they could seriously do some damage in addition to his other usually-normal teeth looking sharp enough to hurt you as well. His claws are filed into sharp points, his tongue appears to have developed a fork at the tip on top of its impressive length, and his pupils have completely shifted into small black slits. A bright lightning strike pours through the large kitchen window and lights up the house for but a second to reveal his changed form more clearly to you, the black and white stripes covering his form reminding you of the hypnotically beautiful warning markings of a venomous creature. In the momentary flash, his eyes, mere inches away from yours, reflect back the light and shine bright white like the eyes of some nocturnal animal. The expression in those eyes is wild and feral, and while you’ve certainly seen Beetlejuice’s expression full of desperation and lust, this is the first time that you’ve felt like he’s ready to pounce and take whatever he wants from you. Not to mention the mixture of red and fuchsia lighting up his hair even in this darkness, a combination that you’ve never seen overtake him before.

“Mmm, I could cum from your delicious screams alone,” his voice rasps next to your ear, having an additional deep growl to his every word that you’re certain only a demon could produce, his usual tone mixing with something darker layered beneath it. It rumbles against your skin and causes another shiver to shoot up your spine, making your entire body shudder under his hold. He gives a look that you can assume is deep satisfaction with himself, pressing his face to your neck and inhaling deeply. “Gimme a color, babes.”

You gulp, not prepared to force words out of your dry throat. “G-green.”

You feel him smile against your skin. “Good. You tell me if that changes.” He pulls his head back to really take you in. You must look like a wreck, eyes clouded over with terror and desire, already clearly a horny mess from hours of waiting. Whatever state you’re in, it must please Beetlejuice to see, as he can’t seem to stop raking his eyes up and down your figure. “Okay, you want monster, how about this…I’m gonna give you ten seconds to decide whether you’re gonna run and hide like prey, or stand here and take it like a champ. Your call, but I will say this: if you can successfully hide from me, I’ll make it worth your while. This night can still become all about you, I can put all my focus into getting you off like a good little demon. But, if you decide to run, and I catch you, I’m gonna use you. I’m gonna make you get me off again and again and again, and I’m gonna keep fucking you like my own little personal toy ‘til I’ve used every last little bit of you up. However long that takes.” There’s no hiding the bulge that rubs up against your thigh as he lays out this last part of the agreement. “So. Deal?”

Your mouth runs dry at his proposal, but not out of distaste, or any true fear. It’s something much more entrancing that holds you in place, warmth pooling between your legs before you finally speak, your voice sounding far less stable than you’d like. “Deal.”

A devilish smirk makes its way across Beetlejuice’s features, and he puts his hand out to shake on it. Even when he’s taking charge, it seems he can’t help but still be at least a little bit of a dork about it. You reach out to take his offered hand and he squeezes your own with more force than necessary before moving both of your hands up and down emphatically. Satisfied, he lets you go for the moment. “Your ten seconds begin now.”

It’s not even a question when you tear off towards the living room, through the kitchen door which swings aimlessly behind you due to the rush of your swift exit. Behind you, you can hear harsh laughter growing distant as you run. Your eyes quickly search your surroundings as you sprint carefully across the length of the dining room (at least, as much as you can safely sprint in this darkness). The house has only so many rooms, but is quite spread out and full of potential objects to conceal yourself behind, or under. The problem is, you have mere seconds to get into place and your brain is currently mixed up in a swirling whirlpool of arousal and pure prey drive that is greatly affecting your ability to locate a proper hiding space. You have no idea if it’s been one second or nine seconds by the time you reach the couch that you had been sitting on not too long ago, and hopelessly try not to lose yourself to panic as you scan the room at light speed. Both the Deetz and Maitland families kept the house fairly free of unnecessary clutter, which on any other day, would be a perk to living in their shared house. Not so much when a demon is hunting you.

Just as you’re starting to get overwhelmed by the feeling that you’ve lost before you’ve even begun, you notice that there’s a small space between one of the living room sofa chairs and the wall that would probably be just big enough for you to squeeze behind. Having no other option readily available, you practically hurl yourself into the crevice. You harshly smack your right forearm on the armrest of the cushioned chair on the way down but pay it no mind, draping a blanket that had been sitting on the lap of the chair to hang slightly over your head so as to better conceal yourself. Just as you finish adjusting your hiding place, you hear the door to the kitchen slam with terrifying power.

“Oho, my little breather, don’t you know that the quickest way to get a predator to chase you is to run?” His voice is ice cold yet tinged with a bit of humor, but whatever the joke is, you’re clearly not in on it. He’s laughed at you plenty before, but it’s usually benign and lightly teasing, not the hissing, cruel laughter that seems to encircle and taunt you now. You hear footsteps begin to fall, loud stomps that seem to echo through the room and make it difficult to pinpoint which direction he’s headed. That is, until they start to head distinctly closer.

You try to calm your breathing, which is still heavy and labored due to your mad dash from the kitchen. Your racing heart certainly isn’t doing you any favors in this regard, only adding to your stifled gasps for air. You put a hand over your own mouth, doing your best to quiet your stupid human noises as the sound of your demon’s footsteps grow closer and closer. Even as you do, you feel your lungs greedily pleading for more air than you can currently offer, and breathing through your nose does little to quiet your body’s demands. As you sit in your makeshift nest like a quail trying not to startle and take flight, the realization dawns on you much too late that you have been fighting a losing battle. This wasn’t a fair deal, it was a game, and this game was clearly stacked in his favor. You should’ve know you can’t hide from a demon in his own house, not when he hadn’t even put a time limit on the deal! You mentally berate yourself for being so foolish, getting tricked into playing a game that could never be won. Or maybe he didn’t really trick you; maybe on some level, you knew you wanted to lose to him, before losing yourself in him. A deal with a devil you were destined to regret from the start. These thoughts buzz around your mind incessantly, feeling louder than your heartbeat and heavy breathing combined.

A feral growl snaps you from your mind’s tangent, so close to your hiding spot and yet not quite on top of it yet. “It’s no use, I can smell you.” You heard him audibly sniff the air. “Hmm, you smell like fear, the fear of someone who knows just how outmatched and, well, how fucked they really are, but it’s all mixed up with the smell of your lust. I’d never mistake that combination in a million human lifetimes. So sweet, so perfect, you’re making me drool here, doll…”

Your treacherous heart quickens at his words, and you pray that he can’t hear it pounding away in your chest. You’re internally pleading for the pouring rain outside to mask any smaller sounds that you make, but you don’t count on any favors from the universe today.

“Hmm…” You can hear the smile in his voice, and the implications of this worry you greatly. “You know, you act like you’re so mature and unknowable compared to me, but I can read you like a book. I can smell how wet you are for me, how much you’ve been absolutely gagging for it since last night. Y’know, I’m kinda shocked you didn’t just fingerblast yourself on the couch like a needy little whore after I made you wait so long. I know you wanted to. Bet you couldn’t think about anything else all night.”

You feel your face completely flush, biting down on the hand that you’ve been using for covering your mouth to keep from making any sound. He thinks he can get me to break by his words alone, but he’s wrong. I’m not going down that easily. After speaking, you notice that his stomping footsteps have halted, as though he’s standing frozen with his ears pricked up to listen for you to falter. You hold steady, difficult as it is. Without warning, a loud CRASH rings out, making you jolt in place. For a moment, your brain registers it as a thunderclap, before quickly realizing that Beetlejuice had in fact violently flipped over some large piece of furniture in the living room, uprooting it in his search for you. Or just to frighten you. Take your pick.

“I’m starting to get impatient with you, little bird,” he snarls, pacing around the large room and forcefully pushing away seemingly anything that finds itself in his path. “The longer you make me wait, the worse it’ll be when I eventually catch you. And I will catch you. You can’t hide from a demon for very long.” As he speaks, you hear another sound ever so faintly, but one that immediately makes you press your thighs together painfully. The unmistakable sound of Beetlejuice roughly pumping his own cock. It’s increasingly evident that he might be getting off on this even more than you are, which is quite a feat.

You suppress a pleasurable shudder, as well as the desire to join him. Your thighs rub together in a sad attempt to find friction, instead just making you feel more like a desperate caged animal. You hear him let out a small moan from across the room, and can’t help the way that your breath hitches in your throat before coming out as the smallest whine, barely crossing the threshold of your parted lips against your will before you hurriedly clamp your mouth down around it. Even so, you hear Beetlejuice’s various noises immediately stop all at once, before he begins stalking in your direction again. Every footstep that falls on the floor feels as though it’s signaling your end, a dark shadow creeping closer that is just barely visible on the ground and wall to your side, outside of the chair and blanket’s cover. In a surprising moment of clarity, you realize that he will find you within seconds and that you, at this very moment alone, have a jumpstart on choosing whether to fight, flight, or freeze your way out of this situation. Freezing won’t do you any good, and there’s no way you can overpower him, so you resolve to flee to a different part of the house the moment that he spots you. You hope that you can take him by surprise and make him pause long enough to make it out of eyesight and into another hiding spot. It’s not much, but it’s really all you can think of right now.

Before you can make any other considerations, it happens. The chair that was protectively in front of you one moment is completely gone in the next, tossed aside recklessly without even being touched. You’re metaphorically naked to the open air, and without so much as sparing a glance at your monster, you leap away from the wall as though you were shot out of a cannon and sprint full force towards the nearby staircase. You hear a sound of surprise behind you but don’t dare to look back, reaching out to grab onto the handrail before you begin bounding up the stairs, taking two at a time. As you reach the first platform and prepare to turn the corner to climb higher, you hear a loud SLAM that shakes the entire house around you. You turn your head towards the sound on instinct, and see in your peripheral vision that Beetlejuice just rammed his entire body sideways and shoulders-first into the wall at the bottom of the stairs due to how fast and recklessly he was pursuing you, like an animal that forgets to control its speed during a hunt and overshoots its leap. Within the blink of an eye, he’s crouched at the bottom of the stairs in a posture that strikes your fleeing brain as odd, before he begins crawling up the stairs on all fours at alarming speeds, bounding upwards and coming right at you. You swiftly round the corner to the higher set of stairs as he scrambles upwards, but you can tell he’s gaining on you at a pace that makes your stomach drop.

You haul yourself up the last few stairs and into the hallway that most of the bedrooms connect to. It’s a long, narrow hall with multiple doors branching off of it and an impressively tall, lovely gothic window at the end of the hall that stretches nearly from floor to ceiling and beautifully frames the rain, which is still pouring down torrentially outside and running down the glass in thick racing streams. You distantly recognize that your plan to get out of his sight and hide will not be panning out, so you quickly pivot to a new, much worse plan: get to your room and lock the door. Certainly, that will keep the monster out.

With no time to lose, you book it towards your closed door at the very end of the hallway, placed just to the right of the large window. You try to ignore the sound of an inbound demon close behind you, your feet carrying you as fast as they’re able. The hallway seems to stretch unnaturally long in front of you, and you wonder if this is one of Beetlejuice’s illusions or if your brain is just playing tricks on you in your escape. You’re trapped running endlessly as the rain in front of you buffets itself against the window, as though it too was trying to come in and attack you, until finally, your outstretched hand makes contact with your doorknob and moves to turn the knob. It jiggles rigidly against your twisting hand. Locked.

In that moment, you feel clawed hands grab your shoulders and force you down to the ground. You land solidly but not painfully, your face being firmly pushed up against the impeccably clean wood flooring. You struggle against Beetlejuice, but he answers by pressing his entire body against your backside forcefully. Your torso fully pinned down, you instinctively kick your legs and try to bend your arms backwards in an attempt to grab or push him off. Your hand finds his own arm that is braced against the floor, fruitlessly grabbing onto and pulling at it to offset his balance, but finding out very quickly just how strong he truly is. After letting you exert yourself trying to push and pull his arms with both hands, he grabs both of your wrists in one swift motion and holds them both behind your back, trapping you fully in place as you feel his hard cock press up against your ass through your clothes. A mean cackle rings out behind you, where you cannot see. You feel his cold breath wrap itself around your ear.

“Aw, aren’t you so cute trying to get away from me? But what’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone in the dark? Aren’t you worried that something in here might eat you alive?” His voice and breath are making your head spin, and Beetlejuice only adds to your dizziness when he decides to flip you over without warning to look at him. The large window looms high above his figure, the low light from the storm giving you just enough natural light to see details in his face now. The gleeful madness in his eyes makes your hips twitch uselessly, pinned under his full weight as he moves to better straddle you. Though he still has his usual clothes on, his cock is out and fully erect against your thigh, already wet with precum from when he was shamelessly touching himself during the hunt. “Although, you might like the thought of a demon eating you alive more than you’d care to admit, hm? You wouldn’t have agreed to my game otherwise.”

You let out a quiet groan as his hands crawl up to the hem of your shirt collar, and before you can register what he’s doing, his claws are shredding the entire shirt from top to bottom in one swift motion. The fabric tears with a salaciously loud ripping sound, revealing your chest underneath, and Beetlejuice responds by quickly bringing his mouth to your newly-exposed skin. He keeps slowly sliding the fabric off of you bit by bit with his claws, until it’s completely off of your body and his teeth begin to bite down on your collarbone. You gasp and writhe against him, shaking as his sharp teeth tease at breaking the skin of your tender flesh. He alternates between soft nibbles at your throat to harsher bites where your neck and shoulders meet, keeping you on your toes as he ravishes your half-naked body. You feel his hand come up to play with your nipples, pinching and rolling them under his clawed fingers in a way that makes your back arch under him. Noticing your reaction, he moves his head down and sticks his forked tongue out to slowly drag it across your other nipple. After all of this buildup, you feel as though you’re already on the edge before he’s even taken your shorts off.

“F-fuck, Beetlejuice…” You reach your hand up to become tangled in his messy hair as usual, until his own hand catches yours by the wrist right before you can touch him.

“Watch it with my name tonight, babes,” he hisses. There’s a darkness shrouding his face right now since he’s facing away from the low light of the stormy window, his hungry expression sparking a hurricane of its own in you. “And don’t think you can try your usual tricks and turn me into your bitch again. You were mean to me and lost my game, so now you’re my bitch tonight.” He leans down to purr his next words into the side of your neck. “How’s that feel?” Before you can answer, he’s biting into the soft flesh, tongue peeking out to get a taste of your skin, and possibly a few drops of blood.

You practically mewl at his ministrations, a deeply humiliating sound that you didn’t even know you could make. If that’s a sign of what’s to come tonight, I don’t know whether to be excited or scared. I feel like I’m learning to do both at the same time really well, though.

Beetlejuice pauses his lapping at your neck to flash you a smug, knowing look. “Already need it that bad, babes? You’re so cute. Want me to go ahead make you cum for me right now?” His voice still has that unearthly quality to it, a low undertone beneath his words that turns you on more than you’d care to admit as it rumbles through your entire body and sends bursts of electricity up your spine.

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?” His eyes glimmer with joyful control. Fast learner.

“Please,” you choke out, grinding your hips upwards to try and find friction against his towering form.

Beetlejuice puts a finger up to his lips in mock thought. “Hmm, lemme think about it…uh, no.” He laughs at whatever expression immediately takes over your face at these words. “I really enjoyed hearing you ask nicely though!” If his cruel laughter isn’t enough, his cock rubbing against your thigh makes it all too obvious how much he’s reveling in being able to turn your own words against you.

“Y-you’re a dick…” You can barely spit the words out without your voice wavering and betraying your true feelings.

His eyes narrow at you, smile unchanged. “Oh-ho, am I now? And what if I left you tied up without touching you for hours on end, just a pent-up, whining mess, stuck here with nothing to fill you up? If I’m a dick now, what would I be then?” He looks up with faux thoughtfulness. “Hm, well, I guess I’d be whatever you are, since that’s basically what you did to me.” His word delivery is sharp enough to cut, but you can read his tone well enough to tell that he’s not genuinely angry about the whole situation, he wouldn’t be so willing to play with you if he was. Definitely sexually frustrated enough to add some fire to his words, though.

“Do you want me to say sorry? Because I’m not sorry.” Pushing your luck with Beetlejuice is like an extreme sport to you at this point.

The demon chuckles darkly. “Give it time.” Moving on quickly, he stands up above you, clothes suddenly vanished from his body in the blink of an eye. “Up, my little marionette.”

With a slight flick of his fingers, your body is pulled up into a kneeling position in front of where he stands. It feels as if your body is being held taut by invisible strings, the position not fully uncomfortable, but not quite how you’d settle yourself if you were in control here. Clearly, you are not.

Beetlejuice coos at you, as much as he’s able to with his warped voice. “Aww, not what you were expecting? Did you think I was just gonna fuck you right away after all that? Somebody forgot about my promises to use them for myself if I caught them.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you had the self control to actually do any- use me…!” If you could slap a hand over your mouth, you would. You settle for snapping your jaw shut immediately, a bewildered expression surely plastered on your face. Your cheeks burn hot as you realize what you just said, or rather, what you were made to say. If the breathy tone that was sorely missing your own personal inflection on the words didn’t tip you off, Beej’s shit-eating grin above you would have. Not only do you not have control of your body, but your voice is his to play with as well.

“What’s that, my little breather? You really want me to use you?” His voice takes on another tone, one of somebody playing pretend, like how someone would pretend to talk to a toy in a game. It doesn’t talk long to realize that you’re essentially reduced to a living, breathing doll for him in this moment. Demeaning as it is, you shamefully clock that you’re weirdly into it, but you wouldn’t share this with him right now even if you could.

Your feel your mouth twist with words that come as a surprise to you upon leaving your lips yet again. “Yes, oh, please use me, BJ…! You’re so sexy, so handsome, such a big, strong demon…I wanna make you cum so many times that I lose count, I wanna be yours to use forever, I don’t even care if I get to cum at all, I don’t deserve to for being so mean to you!” Your hands run down your sides seductively of their own accord as your mouth finishes its speaking. It feels a bit silly to do, but you don’t really have much say in it at the moment, and Beetlejuice doesn’t seem to care if it’s a bit over-the-top from the way drool is currently pooling at the corners of his mouth. None of the words that you moaned out really belonged to you, but you kinda like that you can say such obscene things and just blame it on him later. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t onboard with most of them already, aside from that last statement.

Beetlejuice laughs, licking his lips with a forked tongue. “Aw, aren’t you just a good little toy?” He takes a step towards you, his dick bobbing at eye level in front of you, seemingly a bit larger than usual and…is that ribbing? Yes, you definitely aren’t mistaken, his cock has ridges crawling up all sides, swirling around in mesmerizing patterns that reach up to his swollen head. Some jut out like small, dull spikes, while others are more like closely-placed ribbed lines that remind you of a winding path. Your eyes widen at the discovery as your head leans in expectantly, and this time, you’re not sure if it was you or him that initiated that movement. To test your level of control, you try to roll your shoulders experimentally, and they obey without issue. With this, you can confidently conclude that you at least have a bit of influence over your upper half, though your legs are still forced firmly into a kneeling position.

Before you can do anything yourself with this discovery, his hand reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair and your heart rate immediately quickens in your chest. His grip is forceful but meticulous as he pulls your head forward even more, claws scratching at your scalp in a way that makes you heartbeat drop to the space between your thighs. His impatient guidance makes his neediness apparent, and you grin up at him through your eyelashes. Before he can say anything about how long you’re taking, you open your mouth and lean in to slowly lick his cock from base to tip, selfishly drinking in the shudder that you’re able to pull from him. Even when he’s supposed to be your monster, you can still find your own little ways of asserting dominance. Beetlejuice always runs chilly, but his cock feels even more so than usual, to the point where you would describe it as actively cold, though not enough to be uncomfortable. The ridges feel strange but not unpleasant against your tongue as you go in for another taste, and you shiver to think about how they would feel inside of your wet cunt. You move to mouth and kiss at his length teasingly, purposefully not giving him all of the stimulation he so clearly wants right away.

The grip on your hair tightens to the point of stinging. “If you’re not gonna do it right, I can just do it myself,” he hisses, panting above you with a poisonous glare aimed down at you below. You hardly have time to register how pretty he looks when he’s mad before he’s changed his position and begins fucking into your mouth at an absolutely brutal pace. Your eyes shoot open in shock as his hand holds your head securely in place by a fistful of hair, forcing you to breathe through your nose as he thrusts in and out of your mouth. It’s desperate, and frustrated, and monstrous. It’s exactly what he promised you. The extra size and new textures make his dick feel even more thick than usual in your mouth, and you marvel at the fact that you’re even able to fit as much of it inside as you currently are. Your eyes water as you try to suppress your gag reflex when he hits the back of your throat once, twice, three times. On the fourth time, it’s too much to fight and you gag, causing him to pause mid-thrust and look down at you quizzically. “Too much for you already, babes?” His voice is far too cheery for your taste, and his imposing form leers over you with bemused intrigue.

You tightly shake your head no, mouth too full at the moment to say any words even if your brain was capable of forming them.

Beetlejuice barks out a laugh, lightning pouring through the window to momentarily frame his facial features, all crinkled in amusement. “Ah, this is why I love you, doll. You just don’t know when to quit.” He pulls his cock from your mouth with an emphatic pop and you instead feel the unseeable pull of your limbs by his influence once again. Except, this time, he has a hold on all of you but your mouth and eyes. “But y’know, anything you can do, I can do better.”

Your body lurches forward without your permission, your right hand wrapping itself around the base of Beetlejuice’s cock and beginning to pump up and down his entire length. Meanwhile, your left hand chooses to come up to cup his balls, fondling and massaging at a separate pace. It might’ve been difficult to keep each hand’s motion and pace straight, if not for the fact that you were currently being possessed by a demon to do it. It was not unlike being asked to pat your head and rub your stomach, except that you don’t actually have to put any work into it at all and also you are having sex. Your mental comparisons are interrupted by your head positioning itself over his cock, lips parting to take him in and promptly closing to form a vacuum seal around him. Once your mouth is on him, you feel the pull of your demon’s power begin to bob your head up and down as much of his length as you’re able. Your hands continue their work, but your right hand pumps only the area between the base of his shaft and the lowest point that your lips can reach. Your ministrations continue at a fast and unwavering speed, and if your brain wasn’t completely overtaken by lust, you would be impressed with how efficiently he’s been able to turn you into his perfect little blowjob machine. You can feel that this is a persuasive but breakable possession, and it’s endearing to know that he left you an out so you could break his tether to you if you needed to. But deep down, you know you won’t be testing that ability out right now, not when he’s making such pretty noises above you.

Your eyes, maybe one of the only things still under your easy control, flit up to look at him as your mouth and hands continue their work. Beetlejuice looks down at you through lidded eyes, his concentration obviously torn between possessing you and getting his cock worked so thoroughly. His hair is a messy fire on his head, all red and fuchsia twisted together like a beautiful mixing of watercolors on a soft, shaggy canvas. He lets out an unsteady exhale above you, obviously very close, but trying to hide his usual whines and whimpers that would signal he was approaching the edge. Instead, he opts for a shaky moan from deep within his chest, unable to hold back as he begins to thrust up into your mouth to meet your lips as they come down. Just as it’s all starting to become a bit overwhelming, he shudders above you with a muffled high-pitched sound, and your movements become sloppy and ungraceful all at once as he finishes in your mouth. You could move off of his cock if you wanted to, but instead, you stay in place and greedily catch as much of his cum in your mouth as you can, shivering at how surprisingly cold it feels as you swallow it down your throat. It shouldn’t have been that shocking considering how extra chilly his dick had been, but you’re still taken aback by the temperature as you suck him dry, the slight sweetness still ever-present. Eventually, his dick stops twitching, and the demon above you seems to be quietly coming back down after his orgasm before he erupts into a guttural growl.

“Not enough, not enough,” Beetlejuice snarls, partially to himself and partially at you. “You made me wait so goddamn long, now it’s still not enough.” He squeezes his eyes shut and rakes a clawed hand through his hair, pushing it back from his furrowed brow as he vigorously shakes his head back and forth in frustration, growling and murmuring to himself. You hold yourself very still, watching silently as he seems to argue with himself about something internally. After a moment of thought, his eyelids flutter open again and he slowly turns his gaze onto you. His dark brown eyes look to be on the verge of crazed, the slits of his pupils moving down from meeting your own eyes to leer at your half-naked body. You manage to catch the way his pupils blow out wide as he continues to undress you with his eyes, despite the darkness making him seem very much like a moving shadow whenever the lightning outside pauses. Despite having cum just moments ago, he has the look of a ravenous man staring at a feast.

You sit back on your haunches, looking up at his pretty face with mock innocence. “Not enough, huh? What’re you gonna do about it?”

Beetlejuice can’t hide his grin at your insolence. “Patience, little bird. There’s really no need to goad me on, I’m not nearly done playing with you yet.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the irony of him telling you to be patient, ignoring the fact that your stomach is currently filled with butterflies at his words. His strings of control now fully dissipated, he steps forward with a renewed power and looks you over with a fanged smirk. He looks for a moment as though he wants to say something, but instead, he moves to crouch down to your level and crashes his lips against yours. The kiss rocks you to your core, all tongue and teeth on his end, which you do your best to imitate. In the end, it’s only more clear how horribly outmatched you currently are, his strength and demonic features easily overpowering your pathetic human body. As he shoves his forked tongue into your mouth roughly, you are struck by the chilling realization that every time you’ve been taking control up until now, it’s only because Beetlejuice has been letting you. The thought is enough to make you clench tightly around nothing, aching with desire.

After he’s satisfied with the kiss, he pulls back from your lips and reaches down to grab your legs by the calves, pulling them out from under you in one swift motion and making you fall backwards onto your butt with an undignified thump. He settles himself between your legs, grabbing the soft skin on the inner sides of your knees and spreading them wide to make room for his larger form. He continues to spread so far that you can feel your hamstrings stretching, a dull but satisfying ache in your muscles as they tighten at their limit. Once he’s carved a space for himself, Beetlejuice slowly begins to crawl his hands upwards from where they rest by your knees along your inner thighs, his claws lightly skating across your sensitive skin. You squirm and giggle lightly at the sensation, simultaneously too much and not enough. He finally reaches the bottom of your shorts and, wasting no time, shreds through the fabric as if it were tissue paper. The pieces of what used to be your shorts fall pathetically from your body, no longer recognizable anything but scraps anymore. As they fall off, you recognize with surprise that your underwear was also fully ripped off of you in the same movement, fluttering down to the floor in tattered pieces and leaving you fully naked.

Beetlejuice’s monstrous persona drops ever so slightly as he can’t quite hide the sheepish expression that finds its way onto his face. “Oh, oops? Overshot that. Hope those weren’t your favorite pair or anything.” He gets over his moment with a devious chuckle and is quickly back to studying your fully exposed body, all spread out in front of him and ready to be devoured. “Gotta make sure you’re ready to take me, strictly business here, y’know. Try not to moan like a bitch in heat too much. ‘S embarrassing for you.” As he’s speaking, you watch Beetlejuice lift his right hand and slowly retract the claws of his index and middle finger until they’re completely gone, only his regular short black nails where the claws once were. Without leaving you any time to make a snarky comment, he’s plunging them into your entrance.

“Ah…!” You keen as you finally receive the stimulation you’ve been craving all night, even if it is so much all at once. When the shock of him pressing into you quickly fades, it’s only immediately replaced by another, even more jarring shock: his fingers are ice cold inside of you. You yelp, unsure whether to pull away or beg him to push them farther inside. His unnaturally chilly fingers are curling against your walls, making your hips stutter and eyes squeeze shut as you try to steady yourself from the sensory overload.

“Aww, what’s the matter?” he coos with a sickly sweet smile, sticking a third finger inside of your pussy. You arch your back and whine desperately in response. “You look kinda conflicted there, babes…too cold for you?”

You wrestle for control of your words. “N-no,” you eventually spit out at him. It’s a sad attempt at lying to a very perceptive demon.

Beetlejuice grins. “You’re a stubborn little breather, aren’t you?” He keeps rubbing against the spot that has you seeing stars like he owns it. “That, or you’re just a freak who gets off on everything I do. Because I honestly did this to be an asshole, but you are definitely liking it way more than I expected. I can see it in your cute little face.” You tighten around his fingers as he speaks. “Heh, and that too.”

“Fuck off…” It’s a new kind of embarrassing to have Beetlejuice call you a freak for getting off on something, but honestly, that just gets you off even more, proving his point. You rock your hips up to meet him, unable to hold back your little gasps as you do. You’re trapped between pleasure and pain, the cold refusing to ebb as he continues fingering you roughly. You squirm helplessly under the seemingly endless barrage of conflicting sensations.

His left hand is suddenly on your lower belly, pressing down to keep you in place. “Quit fuckin’ moving, or I’m gonna tie you down,” he growls, not letting up on his pace as he chastises you.

“Hold me down yourself,” you moan, and the words are out before you even get a chance to think. Those were definitely your own words, though.

The demon’s eyes light up immediately. “Ohh, I see, you want me to hold you down and fingerfuck you ‘til you beg for mercy? Well, if that’s what you want.”

He’s behind you in the blink of an eye, erection fully hard once again if the way it presses up against your naked back is any indication. He grabs both of your wrists in one hand and lifts them up and back to wrap around his neck, still bound together tightly. It’s almost a romantic pose, with your body reclined back against his and your arms holding his head close to your body, his nose pressed into your neck and beard prickling against it as well. His free hand snakes around your waist to press your torso even closer against him before returning his fingers to your dripping cunt. The freezing pleasure returns, a feeling you had been dreading and felt so empty without. He’s pumping his fingers into you at the same quick pace, picking up right where he left off. He presses into your clit with his thumb, chuckling darkly at the cry you let out as he starts rubbing teasing circles into it.

“G-gonna cum…” Your humiliating whimpers only seem to encourage him into moving faster.

“Yeah? You close? I bet you are. You’ve been so wet all night…I could smell it, got all mixed up in my head, wanted to pin you down and take you so bad for hours…” Beetlejuice’s chin is resting on your shoulder, and his long tongue slips out to slither down at your neck and to your chest again. It’s like a prehensile appendage with how it moves and wraps itself around your nipples, but with such a light ghost of a touch against your hard buds that it causes goosebumps to spread themselves across your entire chest. You’d be defiantly squirming against him if not for the fact that your body was being held completely immobile by the demon. His wrist and strong forearm press insistently against your stomach and pubic region, keeping you locked in place with his otherworldly strength. Instead, you just allow the needy sounds to pour out of your mouth, unable to focus on anything besides how utterly and deliciously trapped you are and how fast your orgasm is approaching due to his dexterous fingers. You feel yourself cresting that final hill before he sends you crashing over the peak, your body attempting to fuck yourself down onto his fingers even harder despite your trappings. You can’t see him as your orgasm rocks your body, but you hear him hmph approvingly behind you and can easily imagine the smarmy look on his face at how much he can make you come undone with his hands alone.

You’re still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm when Beetlejuice swiftly disappears from behind you and reappears with his head between your legs, giving you no time to react before his mouth is between your legs, licking and sucking loudly. You squeal at the pleasure flooding your senses again so soon and squeeze your legs together involuntarily in reaction.

Beetlejuice lifts his head a bit with a hazy smile. “Sorry babes, couldn’t help myself. Just needed a little taste…” You whine as he sucks at your clit forcefully to punctuate his words before pulling his body back up to kneel in front of you. “But I do think you’re just about ready for me after that.”

“Please…” you muster, your head swimming with pleasure. You’re not even completely sure what you’re begging for, but your demon seems to enjoy it.

“Aren’t you so good for me, my little breather? Even when I’m using you for myself, so adorable…” He grabs your chin with his thumb and the forefinger that was pumping inside of you moments ago, appraising whatever expression is plastered on your face and holding your head in place. “It’s not gonna make me be any nicer to you, but it’ll probably make me fill you up faster.” Wasting no time, he pulls back from your face and begins to line his cock up with your entrance.

His words make you realize how quickly Beetlejuice was able to get you to roll over and play nice for him. It’s truthfully embarrassing the speed at which you folded, especially after the multiple times that you’ve teased him now for doing the exact same thing. Maybe he’s right, you’re more like him than you thought. This line of thought passing into your mind reignites your defiant spirit almost instantly.

“Y’know, for all that talk, you kinda suck at being mean to me.” It’s hard to keep the corners of your lips from being pulled upwards when he slowly tilts his head at your words in disbelief. “The meanest thing you could think to do is make me cum my brains out around your somewhat-chilly fingers. Kinda sweet for an evil demon, that’s all. Can’t bring yourself to do any worse?”

Beetlejuice’s cute expression of positive bewilderment begins melting into one of resolve mixed with pure, carnal desire. “You make such terrible decisions sometimes, it’s so fuckin’ hot.” He punctuates this statement by thrusting his cock up into you, stealing the next witty retort from your lips and leaving only a breathy gasp in its absence. It’s an intense stretch over his morphed length, and even after being worked open by his fingers, the sudden penetration is more than enough to shut you up as you adjust. He grabs your neck, firmly enough to tilt your head as he pleases. “I’m gonna eat you alive, little bird.”

You meet his blazing-hot gaze readily. “Promise?”

Beetlejuice grins as he chooses for once to let his actions do the talking, his only response being to start fucking into you at a quick and steady pace. His cock is clearly bigger than usual, but still fits without issue after the first stretch. You note that it’s the texture that makes the experience just as unique and fantastic as you’d hoped, his ridges rubbing against your walls as though they were designed to pleasure you specifically (and for all you know, this could be absolutely true). The cold remains a common factor throughout the encounter, and one that you certainly don’t hate, despite its initial purpose. The cold spreads out from your core to crawl all over your body, reminding you just how much influence he has over you. It’s all so strange and wonderful and it’s having no trouble in making you see stars already.

Your back is pressed firmly against the floor, giving you another beautiful view of Beetlejuice framed in front of the tall window as he sets a rhythm with his motions. Lightning highlights the outline of his frame every few seconds, visibly straining as he tries to give you more without losing himself in you completely. You try to take a second and memorize how pretty his face is in this moment, really commit everything here to memory. The way his eyebrows knit together as he works at opening you up, biting at his lip with sharp fangs that you assume must hurt, but he gives no indication if it does. The hand that was lightly gripping at your throat loses its solid grip as his fingers stretch out and stroke down your neck, his palm spreading wide and coming to rest directly above your heart, claws resting along the length of your collarbone. Every thrust into you, every touch of his hands on your warm skin, it’s all so maddening and cruel and perfect all at once.

His eyes peek open slightly and flit to your face, lids still half-covering the pools of dark brown. “Quit lookin’ at me all sweet like that, you’re the one who said you wanted rough mean monster sex.”

“Sorry,” you breathe, averting your eyes from his lovely visage to get back into character but unable to hide the way the corners of your lips curl up fondly.

“You’d better be.” He huffs with a smirk, before putting the charm back on. “Now, you said you could keep up with a demon, so let’s see if you were right or if I can make a liar outta you tonight.” He practically spits the word “liar,” clearly both something you should be ashamed of being and something that you desperately want him to prove that you were when you said that. He moves both of his hands down to your hips for leverage, grabbing onto the skin so forcefully that you’re certain it’ll leave a bruise. With you secure in his grasp, he’s holding your lower half steady so he can keep you perfectly in place while he fucks you, an anchor to you for your monster.

Still riding off the high of your recent first orgasm, you can feel your second building already at an exponential rate. You gasp as your walls clench around him, tightening around his cock as it keeps brushing against just the right spot inside of you, the ridges doing everything right for you. Before you know it, you’re already cumming around his dick, the squelches of him continuing to fuck you through your orgasm sounding utterly obscene with how wet you are for him. You ride it out with small moans and praises pouring from your lips, until the fountain of your words begins to run dry as he continues to fuck you at the same unwavering pace.

“You just came again? Okay, well, I haven’t cum again yet, so you can just be fuckin’ patient.” You feel that dawning horror that you’ve been waiting so long for wash over you as you realize that he does not in fact plan on giving you any semblance of a break here. Instead, he grabs both of your thighs and pushes them up to fold back on top of your body, removing the obstacle for him and ending with you opening yourself even wider for him.

“B-Beetlejuice,” you gasp, the overstimulation beginning to take hold as the last of your previous orgasm ebbs away, causing you to shudder and twitch involuntarily as he refuses to let up in his motions. “I’m so- FUCK!” Your words are unable to leave your tongue as his mouth begins biting at your neck insistently. His mouth moves with no rhythm compared to his thrusts, all wild instinct with no discernible pattern as he kisses and bites from your collarbone to your jawline, savoring the taste of you and the sounds you make at the overwhelming, overlapping sensations.

“You say something, babes? Couldn’t quite hear ya…” He switches it up by nibbling along your throat before ending his trail with a harsh bite to the side of your neck. “Were you gonna say that I was right and that I’m too much for your little human body to handle?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of his teeth on you. “Shit, I take it back, you really are evil.” He would be the one to make sex into a competition. A game, your mind chimes in to correct you. Always the games with him. You have been quite the fan of his rigged games tonight, why change your tune now when he’s ruining you so well? “Don’t you dare stop.”

Your words make him chuckle and become only rougher in his movements. “Gonna fill you up,” Beetlejuice pants as his teeth graze the tip of your ear, clearly on the edge himself. “Gonna cum inside you ‘til you can’t take anymore. Bet you’d like that. Bet you wanna have my cum dripping out of your needy little cunt for days.” Your answer comes out as nothing more than a strangled, horny sound, but it seems to get your agreement across as the demon grins wildly, his thrusts becoming erratic as his eyes are flooded with pure desire looking down at you. His head falls to rest on your shoulder as he continues, and you can feel him mouthing something into your skin, but it takes a few moments before you can make out what he’s saying, faint as a whispered prayer. “Mine, mine, mine.” He punctuates each word with a forceful thrust, your heart somehow finding a way to race even faster at this realization. His final utterance of the word is choked into a shaky moan halfway through, his predictably yet still shockingly cold cum filling you to the brim in the best way. It’s way more than you expected, pumping inside of you at high speeds and completely filling you with him. If your mind were a bit sharper right now, you’d probably marvel at just how much there is, you can tell just by feel the practically obscene amounts that are leaking out of your entrance and onto the floor. You close your eyes for a moment to try and bring yourself back to Earth. Your muscles burn with exertion, and you can’t stop the full-body tremors that keep wracking your smaller frame. Not that you have enough energy to even attempt to suppress them.

You don’t have more than a moment’s rest before you feel something cool and slightly wet rubbing against your leg, and you crack open your eyes and see a thick, black and white appendage prodding at you. The striped extremity crawls over your body slowly, caressing your outer thigh before stretching itself over you to pet at your inner thigh as well, wrapping you up in its grasp. You can only think to respond with a perplexed gaze at the thing before looking up at Beetlejuice inquisitively.

He looks all too proud of himself above you, the appendage clearly sprouting from him, more specifically, somewhere behind him…his back perhaps, but it’s hard to tell in this lighting. “Hey, I’ve never shown you my tentacles, have I? At least, I haven’t shown you what they can really do…” When your gaze looks back down, two more tentacles have joined the first, stroking and caressing at your slick flesh.

“B-Beetlejuice, it’s too much, I don’t know if I can…” Your body is simultaneously crying out for rest yet also desperately vying for the attention of the tentacles as they rub themselves over your form teasingly.

He actually has the gall to snicker. “Oh come on now, you can take much more than that, don’t be a quitter. Unless…you’re really admitting you can’t keep up with me? That you’re not as unaffected as you might make yourself out to be? That you were wrong and are now in over your little head?” He pokes you in the center of your forehead to emphasize his teasing in the most annoying way possible.

As though immediately possessed by a different sort of force, you feel a second wind rushing into your entire body, filling you with a new, stubborn resolve. “In your dreams, hellspawn.” You meet his eyes obstinately, hoping that your demeanor portrays yourself as less dazed and fucked-out-of-your-mind than you really are right now. In the end, your competitiveness will always win.

He chuckles, looking rather unfazed by your sharp response. “Still got that much of a fighting spirit, huh? Bet I can break that.”

At his command, three more tentacles emerge from behind him and move towards your reclined body. With six of them visible to you now, they move almost hypnotically as they stroke at your skin, all six moving as if of their own free will as they each take to a different task. You feel two wrap around each of your calves, and one more secures your wrists together. They pull you up to sit on your haunches, the cool wood flooring below starting to feel less pleasant than it did when he first caught you and pressed you against it. Your arms are pulled up and over your head, and you simply let them pull your limbs wherever they see fit without fight. You’re perched as though about to ride an invisible dick, and the position makes you very aware of how gravity is causing more of his cum to slowly drip out of you, mixed with your own wetness. The remaining three tentacles prod at your stretched torso, two settling to rub your nipples gently while the other one crawls down toward your hips. You keen at the contact, watching the slick appendages delicately rub over your chest and wondering exactly how much direct control Beetlejuice has over them versus how much they’re piloted by just subconscious desire without direction. Your eyes flicker up to take him in for the first time since being restrained, and his expression is one of a man watching a most riveting show, cartoonish tongue lolling slightly out of his involuntary smile at your current predicament. He’s crouched across from you in a similar yet freer position, mirroring your body but leaning forward to really take it all in. You feel the free tentacle begin to snake its way to your stomach, sending a thrill up your spine as it strokes down, down, down, until it’s right where you need it. You whimper wordlessly at the contact, mind swirling with sensation.

“God, I’m so happy you’re the kind of sick degenerate that’s into this,” Beetlejuice breathes, making you shivers as he tugs at his half-hard cock shamelessly. Despite being well-aware of what BJ told you about demon sex drives, it’s sort of blowing your mind to see him so immediately ready to go like this, again and again, acting as though everything before was nothing more than warm-up. Damn. No wonder he is the way that he is.

Taking you out of your thoughts is the tentacle giving attention to the space between your thighs, its stark black-and-white surface contrasting with your skin beneath it even in the window’s dim light. The tentacles holding your legs spread them wider to make room, and the appendage responds by bringing its tip up to your clit, pressing in gently but with enough pressure to have your body at full attention. Just when you think you’re spent, he’s got you bucking your hips under his touch again, desperate for more of his attention. Beetlejuice seems more than pleased with your reaction.

“I-I can’t believe you’ve held out on me so long,” you gasp, the tentacle dragging itself torturously slow as it traces up and down from your clit to your opening. “I mean, it’s only been like, a week, but that’s practically 1000 years in terms of your patience.” The tentacles stroking your nipples instead tug at them abruptly, swiftly putting you back in your place with a shaky whimper.

Beetlejuice looks at you with half-lidded eyes and a dumb smile. “Aww, I’m so glad to hear ya like ‘em. I didn’t wanna freak you out too soon, but I should’ve known you’d be enough of a whore to just bend over and let me take you however I wanted to.” You keen as you feel the tentacle on your clit move to your entrance, all wet with some nondescript substance that might’ve grossed you out if he showed it to you in any other context. There’s hardly even a stretch compared to his cock as it pushes into you, but it still reaches exactly where it needs to with how dextrous and long it is. “You wanted to be chased. You wanted to be caught. And yeah, I know you wanted to be used. How could you not, when you take it sooooo well?” His lovely purring words rattle around in your head as the tentacle inside of you pumps itself into your clenched core, rubbing exactly where it knows you want it to and making you grit your teeth as though about to go mad. “God, you’re so perfect. Look so fuckin’ pretty right now, don’t know what I did to deserve you. I won’t let you down, I’m gonna milk every orgasm you have out of you and not gonna stop ‘til you’re absolutely ruined, babes. You’re gonna regret asking me to be meaner to you.”

You whine miserably at his words, his own excitement and arousal only amplifying yours. You hump against the tentacle as it keeps up its regular pace, riding it like a cock as much as you can with your arms and legs restrained. Taking another glance at Beetlejuice, you notice that another tentacle had sprouted from his back when you were lost in his words and came down to rest on his own dick, curling itself around the length from base to tip and moving itself up and down rapidly, getting him off as he leans back and watches you intently. You grind yourself down onto the tentacle inside of you harder at this, getting off to the image of him being caressed by his own tentacles just as much as he is for you. He notices you reacting in this way and flashes you a grin, the unmistakable grin of someone who’s all too happy to be ogled. Damn exhibitionist. He then lets out a very familiar whimper, sharply contrasting his dominant front from a moment ago. You could recognize that specific sound anywhere.

“Are you fucking yourself in the ass with your own tentacles?” Your voice is strained, but the tone is somewhere between incredulous and amused.

His whimper melts into a breathy moan, his teeth snapping off the end of the sound by clicking together into a satisfied grin. “You know me so well, doll.” Sure enough, Beetlejuice leans forward and arches his back from where he had been resting on his haunches in front of you, and you can see another tentacle placed behind him that is thrusting up into his ass at a steady speed, the first tentacle continuing to pump his cock at a breakneck pace.

The mere sight of Beetlejuice getting so thoroughly worked by his own tentacles as your own stimulation refuses to let up is pleasurable enough to make you clench tightly around the appendage, your legs shaking as you cum around it and get roughly fucked through your orgasm. You feel your ears ringing as this one rolls out of you in waves, feeling so good and yet so, so much. It takes its time running through your entire body, but as it begins to ebb, you whine as you realize that the tentacles aren’t letting up. They continue to perform their motions like a dutiful machine, rubbing at your nipples, fucking up into your thoroughly used pussy, holding you perfectly in place despite your squirming. You’re still completely open to the appendages, no way to even curl up and hide yourself from their touches.

“Beetlejuice…” you practically sob, overstimulation causing your entire body to shake as the tentacle rubs itself against your g-spot, prodding at you for more as if it doesn’t understand why you’re so spent.

From your position, you can see the demon laugh at your predicament. “Aw, poor little thing. You’ve got about one more in you before you totally break, I bet.” You choke out an anguished sound at his cooing words, plus the fact that the pace of the tentacles hasn’t let up in the slightest, and he regards you with a raised brow. “Color?”

You take in a shuddering breath, knowing that you could easily end things here with a single word. But goddamnit, you are not giving him the satisfaction. You’ll go until exhaustion forcibly takes you if you must, your pride demands it. “Green.”

The unbearably overwhelming sensations are immediately made worth it by the utterly flabbergasted look that crosses your demon’s face, eyes widening as he receives an answer that he clearly didn’t expect. It’s quickly replaced by an impressed little smirk, all lust and pride and amusement wrapped into one sharp smile. “Heh, yep, that’s the breather I fell for. You’re too much of a stubborn little glutton for punishment to quit, just like me. Well, lucky for you, that’s in no short supply right now.” He moves toward you from where he had been leaned back on his haunches, and it’s immediately clear by the spattering of glowing green on his stomach that he himself has cum at least once under the tentacle that continues rubbing at his cock, and you feel a slight twinge of regret that you didn’t get to see his debauched expression as he came. To lift your spirits, you silently file away the idea of having him tied up and forced to cum over and over by his own tentacles while you get to watch as a fun idea for later. For now, Beetlejuice moves up to watch you closer, bringing his body right in front of your trapped form as the tentacles keep working the both of you.

You squirm as much as the restraints and your energy levels allow under his gaze. He’s watching your face intently, as though trying to see something in your slack-jawed expression. Then, you’re tilting backwards, as if doing a trust fall that you have no choice but to trust in as your body leans backwards, knees spread apart but still firmly on the floor as your back stretches tightly. Another tentacle comes to support your neck and back as you continue to be coaxed backwards by your restraints, until your knees lift ever so slightly off of the ground and you’re practically being cradled in a tentacle hammock with your limbs still restrained, but as comfortable as they can be in this situation.

“What a perfect little present all wrapped up for me after that long chase…” Beetlejuice briefly surveys the situation, his patience clearly maxed out by now but perception still sharp as ever as he scans you for any reaction. He must find whatever he’s looking for, because you see only a joyful flash of teeth before he’s biting your inner thigh and ripping more pitiful sounds from your tired throat against your will.

You flinch and whimper a bit at the sudden piercing pain, but you couldn’t move away if you wanted to. In all honesty, you probably couldn’t bring yourself to move even if you weren’t being restrained, not at this point. Another bite to your thigh, slightly gentler and closer to where you need his mouth. You dare a glance down at him and immediately find yourself trying to stifle your tremors and trembling, his firm grasp on you as intoxicating as the image of a demon looking so absolutely possessive between your thighs, in every sense of the word.

His smile is as all-consuming as ever. “And I think I’ll get a better taste of my prey now, heh.” His tongue is pressed against your clit within the second, the entire length of it slipping out of his mouth for nothing more than to rile you up. He knows it will; it did so well the first time, and every time after, and it unsurprisingly works like a charm today too. He laps at you hungrily, his long tongue having already proven itself to be perfect for eating you out. The fact that it now has a perfect little fork at the end only adds to the experience. You’ve simply had to make peace with the fact that his demonic features have completely ruined you for anyone else, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset about that at all. Not right now, when his forked tongue is stroking up and down your clit at the perfect pace, your trapped hands grabbing at the tentacles beneath them for stability as though they were bedsheets. They only tremble and continue to ooze even more as you grip them, a strange but clear sign of pleasure if Beetlejuice’s rumbling groans weren’t obvious enough.

He allows his tongue to wander between your clit and your entrance, and it’s so long that it can reach both spots at once when pressed up against you. He lets a whiny moan slip out as he keeps up the pace. “Fuck…I can taste myself in you…hey, you’re welcome for being so delicious…” Of course he’s still finding a way to brag, even with his mouth busy. You wouldn’t be shocked if he figured out a way to continue working your clit while also tongue fucking you, and then gloat how talented he is at getting you off without changing his pace at all. He’s a talented multitasker, clearly.

You’d normally have a much more eloquent comeback to his boasting comments, but you’re honestly shocked at how much Beetlejuice has absolutely fucked you out of your mind by now. You can barely string together a complete thought, let alone speak a coherent sentence. You feel like you’ve been thoroughly used up, in the best way. From the moment he offered you that deal, you wanted to be defiled by a monster until you’re nothing but a fucked-out little plaything for him to use as he pleases, and he has more than honored that wish. The combination of this thought and the maddening feeling of him lapping at your overstimulated clit is enough to somehow bring you back to the edge again, whining as your muscles tense one final time.

Your body language does not go unnoticed by your monster. “Aw, you gonna cum?” You let out a pathetic whine in response, and he snorts. “Yeah, you would be cumming again. Slut.” He pauses his ministrations to look you in the eye from below, intense lust clouding his pretty eyes. “Say my name, beautiful.”

You practically keen at the sudden denial of stimulation, but do your best to abide. “Beetlejuice…” Your voice is a sinful moan, more shameless and explicit than you’ve ever heard from within yourself. You can’t even bring yourself to feel ashamed or self-conscious about it with how fast Beetlejuice grabs your hips with his sharp claws and thrusts his cock back into you, clearly on the precipice again himself. A few quick, deep thrusts is all it takes for him to be once again filling you up with his load, shaking as he pumps you full of it as though afraid you’d lost too much after the first time he thoroughly bred your cunt. The combination of being so perfectly full of his cum again, the image of the demon holding onto you with both hands and tentacles from above as he finds release, and the feeling of being so completely claimed by the feral monster inside of you is enough to push you over the edge. Your final orgasm tears through you recklessly, just as wild and destructive as the last to your exhausted human body. Waves of tingly pleasure rush through every nerve in your body, clenching and relaxing your muscles as the feeling ebbs and flows throughout your form. Time stands still for you, and you can barely register Beetlejuice pulling out beyond the sensations still rolling through you. As it starts to dissipate, your ears are ringing again and- oh, you can’t see. That’s probably not good. You blink harshly, feeling as though you’re in the aftermath of some kind of explosion to throw off your senses this majorly.

After a few moments of muffled blackness and awful ringing sound, you see bright rays of reality begin to peek through as your body adjusts back to normal. You see a fuzzy image above you, towering over your frame in a way that feels more concerned than menacing, and as the picture begins to clear, you notice the figure’s mouth moving. Your mind returning, you attempt to focus in on what he could be trying to say to you with such a worried little face. Luckily, the world’s sound begins to fade back in as he continues to speak quickly.

“-ey? Hey? C’mon babes, you with me? You’re freakin’ me the fuck out right now, talk to me so I know you’re not heading into the light, please.”

“I’m good,” you murmur, still feeling a bit overwhelmed in coming back to Earth after everything. The tentacles have disappeared in however long it took for your vision to return, and Beetlejuice looks decidedly less monster-y than he did moments ago. The red has all but vanished from his hair, leaving a dusting of dark pink fading into a lighter gradient, with slight yellow streaks of nervousness, and he looks significantly less big and sharp overall as his nervous eyes flicker over your form that sits on the floor below.

Beetlejuice leans down to hold your head to his chest. “Oh, Jesus fuckin’ Christ (Y/N)! You were supposed to say something if it got to be too much!” He pulls back to swiftly look you over. “Gonna give me a heart attack when I’m already dead over here. Jeez.”

You giggle, too exhausted to fully laugh at his antics. “I’m fine, wasn’t too much. A little overwhelming near the end maybe, but I really liked it.”

He snorts. “Well, yeah, that much I could tell. You freaked me out though, I thought I might’ve accidentally factory reset you from fuckin’ ya too rough or something.”

You wave your hand dramatically in a dismissive fashion as you move to sit up, your stomach and thighs shaking with the effort as though you had just finished a particularly brutal set of sit-ups. Well, that’s one way to get in a core workout. “I mean, I’m the one who wanted to try and hold my own against a supernatural being at full power so bad. Dumb mortal physical limitations getting in my way.” You hmph at the idea of human limits, before leaning forward to place your hand on Beetlejuice’s own. “But you did great baby, that was everything I could’ve wanted when you first pitched that idea. I hope it was everything you wanted, too.”

Beetlejuice’s expression softens as he looks at your hand on his own. “Yeah, I had a great time too. Clearly.” His eyes dart down to your utterly spent body almost sheepishly before returning to your own eyes, a shine of strong affection behind his gaze as he speaks in a much more delicate tone. “I really love you a lot. Thanks for bein’ the way you are.” With that, he presses a gentle kiss to your lips, a far cry from the roughness that he embodied minutes ago. It’s so tender that his lips only end up lightly grazing your own, and the feeling of his soft lips moving like a whisper on you is the sweetest of kind thank you’s.

“Anything for my sweet little demon,” you breathe, reveling in the mere closeness of him in this ultra-affectionate state.

Beetlejuice shoots you a cute smile before leaning down to pick up your exhausted body as though it weighs nothing to him. “Oh, and if it’s any consolation, you totally earned bragging rights for lasting that long in the sack. I honestly thought you’d tap out after, like, two rounds, and then we’d cuddle.” He tosses and hoists you up into a more secure position in his arms before he starts walking toward your door.

You grab onto the flesh of his shoulders to steady yourself. “What can I stay? l have a strong force of will when I’m with you.” With just a look from the demon, your previously locked door swings open without a care, and he carries you right into your dark room. You whip around and shoot him an inquisitive look. “Wait, was that you before? The lock?”

“Oh, is it that surprising that I outwitted you?” He moves to bite your shoulder teasingly, now more playful than menacing but still with enough teeth to command your attention.

“Ah…a little.”

One of the hands currently wrapped under your legs slides up to pinch your ass, causing you to yelp and Beetlejuice to laugh. “You may be hot shit in your own mind, but never forget that you’re easy prey to a demon like me, babes.”

***

“Delia-uhhhhhh, when’s the popcorn gonna be ready?” Beetlejuice languishes about on the sofa in front of the TV with no shame, flopping his arms over the side to look towards the kitchen.

You roll your eyes from where you stand behind the couch, then move to swat at his dangling arms playfully. “Don’t be a nuisance unless you’re gonna help, hellspawn.”

A somewhat-frazzled redheaded figure appears in the open doorway to the kitchen. “Now, Beetlejuice, if life is a bank, then patience is a virtue that’s worth investing some of your spare change into!”

He slumps. “You should know metaphors and me don’t mix by now. Oh, and could you please horrifically burn the next bag for me? I like it crispy crunchy.”

“Ugh, and make the whole house stink again? I don’t think so,” Lydia retorts, finding her place on the adjacent single-seater couch and getting cozy, her gothy PJs still keeping her aesthetic together even before bed.

“I don’t expect you to understand fine cuisine, Lyds,” he huffs, crossing his arms petulantly and slouching down into his seat further, making his legs reach all the way to the other end of the couch.

You laugh and lace your finger through his hair from above gently. “Quit taking up a whole sofa by yourself and come help me put snacks into cute little bowls for everyone.”

Like a switch flipped, he’s immediately on his feet and following behind you obediently, his previous body language evaporated. “Coming, dear…!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a bewildered expression from Lydia and could swear you hear her mutter, “Demon whisperer…” to herself in a tone that reads as half-accusatory and half-awestruck as you walk into the kitchen.

As you enter the room, you see Delia at the far side of the long counter furiously stirring a bowl filled with some snack that she must’ve quickly whipped up. “Oh, if you two could just put the popcorn and chips into some of the big sharing bowls while I finish this vegan cheese dip, that would help!”

“Sure can do, Delia,” you respond, opening the high cabinet closest to the door to grab the giant cartoon print snack bowls that everyone likes to use. You hand one off to Beetlejuice and keep one for yourself. “You handle the chips, bug.”

“I wanted to do the popcorn,” he argues back, putting on his brattiest tone.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near the popcorn. I know you.” You shoot him a faux mean look, and he doesn’t even try to hide the smile that spreads across his face. You ignore your desire to give him a kiss and instead, as you hear the popping slowing down on the popcorn within the microwave, open the door and trade it out for another bag. After pressing start, you open the top of the finished bag and pour it into your bowl, which is bright fuchsia and decorated with little cherries. You find your eyes strangely glued to it as you pour.

“It’s better when it’s blackened. That’s how you truly unlock the…complex flavor profile. See, I told you, I really have been watching those cooking shows on TV and learning valuable new things about the art of le chef.” The bag of chips on the counter lift up and begin pouring themselves into his bowl without Beetlejuice so much as looking back at them. Instead, he’s looking right at you as you pour the hot snack in the bowl, the tantalizing smell filling up the whole room. “Something really awesome about your bowl there that I’m not seeing?”

You manage to tear your eyes away from the bowl to look at him, suddenly realizing with mild embarrassment what it had been subconsciously reminding you of that had you so enraptured. “Uh, well, I can’t ever look at this pretty shade of fuchsia in a normal context the same way ever again, so I guess you kinda Pavlov’s dog’d me.” It’s hard to hide the laughter bubbling up in your lowered voice, having to hear yourself admit to something so…ridiculous.

Beetlejuice, on the other hand, seems to view this as much more of a personal victory than a weird observation on your part. He snickers to himself before leaning in close to you flirtatiously. “Oh, babes, I really am living rent-free in that head of yours, huh? I knew I was good, but I didn’t know I was ‘make you think of getting dicked down when you’re making snacks’ good…”

“Behave.” You shoot daggers at him with your sharp gaze, and can’t help but feel like you’re giving him exactly the reaction he wants out of you. Dating Beetlejuice openly hasn’t changed too much of the dynamic, aside from you having to keep him and his lack of a filter on a short leash if you wanted to maintain your remaining shred of dignity.

The demon returns your gaze with his own unconvincingly innocent look. “I’m behaving, I’m a good boy, see? I poured the chips nicely and everything.” The whininess in his voice is going to make you insane, you know it. He then looks over your shoulder at the counter. “Oh hey, I think your popcorn’s done now.”

You whip your head around and are smacked in the face with the horrible smell of burning popcorn. “Oh shit!” You pull the microwave door open as fast as you can, but when you grab the bag and pull it open by the corners, the little puffs are burnt to a completely unsalvageable degree.

Beetlejuice gasps. “Babes, did you make this one just for me…?” He dramatically places a hand over where his heart would be. “Thank you!” He plants a quick but rough kiss on your lips before grabbing the bag and pouring it into his own personal striped bowl that appeared out of seemingly nowhere. You, on the other hand, are left reeling from the kiss and only able to wonder if he had been distracting you on purpose.

Delia makes a sound of disgust from the other end of the kitchen, and you look over to see her taking the dip out of the oven with a scrunched-up face. “Oh God, it smells awful in here! Tell me you didn’t put Beetlejuice in charge of the popcorn.”

Beetlejuice practically cackles. “Nope, my sweet little meatsack did this allllllll on their own.” With that, he proudly takes his personal bowl out with him to the living room, leaving you behind to pick up the pieces.

Feeling utterly duped, you grab the half-full bowl of popcorn and follow him out of the kitchen. By now, though Charles has gone past you to the kitchen to help Delia, Adam and Barbara have joined Lydia in finding a comfy spot on one of the many chairs (the family reached a point where they really had to invest in more seating after getting such a full house). Their attention is on the TV mounted above the fireplace as Adam swipes through a variety of potential movies to watch, at least, until the two of you arrive.

Lydia plugs her nose. “Gross, why’d you let him burn it, dude?”

Beetlejuice laughs and pipes in for you. “Hey, nobody can resist the power of the B-Man! Not even this one.” He tosses a piece of charcoal-colored popcorn into his mouth for emphasis.

You roll your eyes and offer Lydia a defeated shrug before settling onto the nearby loveseat, placing the big popcorn bowl on the coffee table in front of the TV. “I tried, kid. Unfortunately, he is still an absolute pest even if you happen to be in a relationship.”

Beetlejuice crosses his arms proudly, his bowl hanging in midair where he left it. “Oh, you want pest? Good, I needed a seat anyway.” He immediately plops down in your lap, laying his entire form on top of your reclined body.

“Crushing…me….!” You try to push back against his back unsuccessfully, finding him firmly planted on top of you. “There’s an empty seat right next to me you dummy!” It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be, but ghost or not, he is certainly a big boy.

He slides around to sit in your lap sideways, his legs resting on the empty loveseat space but all of his weight still perfectly balanced on your lap. “Is this better, schnookums? Honeybunny? Light of my death?” He bats his eyelashes at you sweetly. He is not being sweet.

“You two need to get a room,” Lydia says, looking even more disgusted than she was with the burnt popcorn smell.

“We have one, it’s upstairs,” Beetlejuice counters.

“I have one,” you correct him.

“Babes, what’s yours is mine, remember?”

You promptly shift your lap and dump him onto the seat next to you unceremoniously. He lands with the amount of grace that you’d expect.

“Alright everyone, the dip is ready!” Delia’s singsong voice rings out as she and Charles bring in the rest of the food from the kitchen, and Delia plops the dip onto the coffee table by the chips. “I got the recipe online!” She says this fact like it’s a fun little surprise for everyone, as she likes to do.

“That’s great, and I think we got the movie all ready too,” Barbara says, and receives a thumbs up of confirmation from Adam.

With this, everybody finds a comfortable spot to sit as the movie begins playing, the studio logos rolling on the screen first. Charles and Delia on one couch, Lydia sitting in a strange lounging position on her soft chair, Adam and Barbara snuggling close on one loveseat, and you and Beetlejuice together on the other. You’re lucky that the television is so large, everyone’s already packed in enough as it is.

Beetlejuice scoots closer to you, and this time, he genuinely is being sweet. He looks up at you with those big brown eyes before snuggling his head against your shoulder affectionately. You reach your arm around his body to hold him closer, bringing your hand up to run your fingers through his hair, always its favorite place to be. He sighs contentedly next to you, his eyes closing in bliss for a moment before they reopen to watch what’s happening on the TV, unwilling to miss a thing. His light but comforting weight pressing against you is like your own personal weighted blanket, immediately making you relax all of the muscles in your body with his mere close presence. Your own gaze lingers on his pretty features for a moment longer, before getting the distinct feeling that someone is watching you. Looking up, you see everyone watching the movie, aside from Adam and Barbara, who are cuddled together and subtly peeking over at you two of you. At getting caught, they shoot you identical sheepish grins, all endearing and full of fondness in the way their eyes crinkle at you and your demon. You can’t help but give them a coy smile back before you all return your attention to the screen, holding the ones that you love close in your heart and arms.

Author’s Note: WOW. HOW DID THIS END UP SO LONG. this absolutely CLEARS my longest fic record by a fuckton of words. i have no idea, this started as a little blurb when i saw beetlejuice in nyc and then i saw it again on tour and my bff inspired me to continue it and helped with some beta reading (shout-out! go read his fics of beej & others at wretched-devil, they’re absolutely lovely) and things just kinda spiraled outta control. this fic had my studious ass on bad dragon looking up monster cock references, it was so serious to me. welp, hope it was fun for y’all too, thanks for reading!!

#beetlejuice x reader #musical!beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x you #beetlejuice x gn!reader #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice #reader insert #smut #i’m back in the fucking building again ?!?#fun fact i had to go thru and manually italicize everything in both the ao3 and tumblr text editor #bc i couldn’t figure out how to make the formatting carry over #so. this fic was hand stitched with love basically #my fics

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stayevildarling · 5 months

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hi🙈 I found you via wattpad and I really like your work. can you post something about wilhemina, billie and cordelia and reader that saves them from an attack but got hurt and struggles badly after this please. thank you very much, your stories help me very much🐝

Cordelia Goode x Billie Dean Howard x Wilhemina Venable x Reader - Everything works out in the end

A/N: Thanks to the anon for requesting this. I hope you are doing okay and this is somewhat how you wanted it to be. Sending love ❤ I haven't posted in ages but I have still been writing. I'm just genuinely unsure if anyone would read my stuff anymore. @billiebeanhoward said this is a meh one so I apologize in advance.

Warnings: mention of violence, mention of blood, angst, sad, fluff

Word count: 3.7k

Taglist: (if you wanna be added or taken off, send me a dm or an ask):

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulawand, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world

Moonlight shines on the coven, the light illuminating the white building as it shines through the large windows. It was quiet, the only noises ocassionally to be heard, cars driving past the street outside the coven. Cordelia slowly woke from her slumber, looking over to her right, seeing two of her lovers peacefully asleep.

Billie had her arms wrapped around you, both of you looking so comfortable and peaceful that it brings a warmth to her heart. Of course she notices the absence of Wilhemina. She slowly gets out of bed, quiet enough not to wake you, before sliding into her slippers next to her bedside and quietly leaving the room.

The supreme knew there was only one place Wilhemina would hide away from the shadows of the night as she makes her way to Wilheminas office. Her silk nightgown iluminating the coven further. As she quietly knocks and enters, she finds the redhead standing by the window, holding onto her cane tightly as her eyes avert the window and make their way to the blonde entering the room.

Cordelia makes her way over, gently placing her hand on the redheads and giving her a comforting smile. ,,Can't sleep hm?'' she gently asks. Wilhemina averts her gaze, looking out the window yet again. In response she simply shakes her head, knowing well enough by now that her girlfriend and the supreme could easily read her, even if she didn't want to be read and her emotion so raw and open for people to see.

,,Talk to me darling, this isn't the first time lately'' Cordelia softly suggests. The redheads facial expression quickly turns into a slightly bitter one as her hand grips tighter around her cane, controlling her other hand that is held by Cordelia just enough not to tighten. ,,I can tell you are mad my love'' the blonde implies. Wilhemina huffs before responding ,,Of course I am, we have failed her. We were meant to protect her not the other way around''. The supreme sighs in response, trying to control her own emotions and fighting back tears.

,,She needs you, she needs all of us now more than ever''. Cordelia replies trying not to think back of that day, to the events that her lover suggested but emotions and flashbacks pull her into that day again as if it was yesterday.

It was the last day of Delia being gone at a council meeting and the coven was mostly quiet. The witches studying at the academy were happy to have a quiet day without studies before they would beginn again tomorrow. While the three of you, Billie, Wilhemina and you couldn't be more excited to see Cordelia again. Whenever one of you was busy or gone for a couple of days, you felt incomplete. It was late afternoon, the sun had already begun to set and Cordelia was due any minute. Most of the witches were doing their own thing, in their rooms, the greenhouse or outside the academy gates. Billie had decided to cook, while Wilhemina set the table and you not letting her and instead telling her to sit down, which she didn't like to hear.

As the door was heard, Billie rushed to the hallway first, her being the closest to the front door. She turned around, her face filled with excitement and you following her, Wilhemina behind. However, the mediums breath got caught in her throat as she saw that it wasn't infact Cordelia. She had never seen the person before, dressed completely in black and wearing a hood. Although she couldn't see the persons face, her instincts instantly told her something wasn't right about this. As you enter the hallway you halt, your mind not quite comprehending what was happening before Wilhemina stood by the doorframe, equally confused.

,,Who are you?'' Billie asked confused, the fear very visible in her voice now. The hooded figure simply replied with silence and taking steps closer to the three of you. In their hand you could see an object that you couldn't quite make out. Everything happened so quickly and before you know it, you see a gun being pulled to Billie's head. ,,I have come for revenge'' a deep voice calls out. Without thinking you take a step infront of Billie.

Wilhemina watched the events unfold in shock, her body prisoned with fear, being unable to move. The door opens and at last the supreme enters, the redhead seeing both the shock and also Cordelia getting ready to act. As the words of the hooded figure were spoken, Cordelia trying to rush closer and raise her hand, enabling her magic. The shot was already fired. She watched in fear as you rush in front of Billie Dean, the bullet piercing right through you.

Cordelia couldn't get there fast enough and so the only thing she can do is quickly take the person to the ground. She ran to you and Billie, as you fell backwards into Billie's arms after pushing yourself in front of her. The blood streaming all over you, staining your clothes, Billie's hands and the floor.

The medium couldn't comprehend what was happening. She frantically started crying as she knelt on the floor with you. Begging for Cordelia to make it stop and to make you be okay. Her mind flodding with thoughts of losing you and the fact you had just saved her.

Their reactions were utterly different, despite having the same fear of losing you. Cordelia did her absolute best to stay calm and start a flood of spells and trying to come up with potions already to sped up your healing. Billie was frantically crying while holding your head up, speaking words of comfort to you. Wilhemina however was overtaken by anger. She rushed past you and your two lovers, walking over to the unconciouss figure on the floor. Ripping the hood of their head before letting her anger out in every way she possible could.

,,Wilhemina, Wilhemina'' Billie pleaded before Cordelia had to physically stop her, after speaking her spells. ,,We need your help now, we need to get her upstairs'' the supreme spoke calmy but strictly at the same time.

Successfully convincing the redhead, they made sure to take you into the bedroom and get you into clean clothes as Cordelia put you in a deep sleep, to recover from what had happened, her magic seeming to have worked. Billie sat by your side while the supreme had to take over and protect her coven. Wilhemina helping in any way she could to protect you.

The next morning, Wilhemina was the first one awake and out of bed, standing in the kitchen, despite Cordelia convincing her the night before to get back into bed. The last two weeks had caught up on the usually strong woman, the lack of sleep slowly starting to reflect in her eyes. As her gaze stayed focused, she overlooked the gardens of the coven. She heard footsteps, starting from the stairs and halting by the kitchen. Despite caught in her thoughts, she assumed the footsteps to be from Cordelia or Billie.

However, when she heard a quiet ,,Good morning Mina'' her head instantly turned, her gaze now finding you, standing by the door smiling at the beautiful redhead. ,,Hey little one'' she said softly, making her way over to you. ,,Would you like some breakfast, something to drink?'' she asks. You look at her a moment, her tired eyes meeting yours before replying ,,Just some tea but I'll make it myself'' you imply but she instantly stops you and walks over to the sink.

After a little while, she places the tea cup in front of you gently and you thank her. You try your best not to make it obvious when shuffling slightly in your chair as you still felt pain in your body from recent events. However, you wince slightly and she instantly picks it up. ,,Are you still in pain, little one?'' she asks and despite her voice not showing it you could see the anger in her brown eyes but you quickly shake your head.

The next few minutes are filled with silence, as you drink your tea and Wilhemina seems slightly lost in her thoughts. ,,I'm sorry'' you almost whisper after a while, breaking the silence, laying over the empty kitchen. Her eyebrows furrow, confused at your statement before you explain ,,I know you haven't been sleeping'' you add after a little while. Her demeanour changes and you could tell you shouldn't have said that. You knew the redhead long enough to know what her silence meant. She didn't wanna talk about it, she didn't want it brought up and you blame yourself instantly for making her upset.

Two blondes enter the kitchen shortly after this, Billie pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek and Cordelia greeting you with a gentle smile and kiss to your forehead. ,,Don't forget to have this sweetheart'' she reminds you as she places a little vial next to you. She had made you potions to help with the pain. It was usually no issue for a supreme to instantly heal you after the attack, however she was slightly late and the bullet had already pierced through you and the supremes reaction and spell accuracy was slightly off due to her own emotions. Despite being fully healed and barely even having a scar, you could still feel the pain, although you did your best to hide it.

The three of them start chatting about their days ahead, Cordelia trying to bring some sense of normality into the coven again. Billie talks about the meeting she has this morning and being unsure whether to stay at the coven instead but you assure her it would be okay. Cordelia had an urgent meeting, still working through the aftermath of the events, making sure the coven would be safe and this would never happen again. You overheard a conversation the other day, Cordelia explaining they revealed the hooded figures identity and getting through to the network and the reasoning. ,,I can stay sweetheart'' Cordelia offers but you assure her you will be okay. She reminds you to call or message her if you need anything and where the rest of your medication was and when to take it.

After they had left, Wilhemina got the remaining witches to clean after themselves after breakfast. ,,Is there anything you would like to do sweetheart?'' she asks you but you reassure her she could do her work in her office and that you would go to take a nap. For hours you stared at the ceiling of your bedroom. You tried so hard to be strong for them but the pain would sometimes sneak up on you. You felt guilty, overhearing some conversations as to why this happened and how they wanted to get to the supreme by doing this and hurting the people she loves most. You know they were hurting, you knew Wilhemina couldn't sleep, Cordelia couldn't stop worrying and you knew about Billie's nightmares.

It was around lunchtime when you decided to check on Wilhemina. As you knock on her door gently, a cup of coffee in your hand, you enter and find her asleep in her armchair. You smile softly as you quietly make your way over, putting the coffee on the table next to her and grabbing a blanket and gently placing it over her lap. As you exit her room, you think about what to do. This had been the first day since it happened, where you were alone. Billie and Cordelia hadn't left to go anywhere and if Cordelia needed to, Billie wouldn't leave your side. There had been one thing you had been particularly feeling guilty about, so you decide to grab your wallet and keys and make your way outside the coven, for the first time in a couple of weeks.

It doesn't take long for both of your girlfriends to finish their work, Billie had ended her meeting sooner, prioritizing the important things for her upcoming project and skipping the usual small talk, so she could get back home sooner. Cordelia likewise made sure she told the council everything they needed to know and working on further steps to prevent these sort of events and hold the people accounting for this responsible. They almost enter the coven at the exact time, Billie already making her way up the stairs and Cordelia following behind.

As they open Wilhemina's door, after not finding the two of you anywhere else, they find her in the exact same state you had left her, sleep finally catching up on her. ,,Hi darling'' Cordelia greets softly. Wilhemina sits up straight, pretending this didn't happen, while taking a sip of the now cold coffee. ,,Where is Y/N?'' Billie asks but she is met with the same confused reaction that Cordelia showed as soon as she entered the room and not finding you there too.

Billie is the first one to panic, instantly thinking something had happened again, while Wilhemina did not say a single word, thoughts of guilt and anger towards herself instantly filling her for not checking up on you and falling asleep. Cordelia stays surprisingly calm, checking your nighttable and noticing your wallet and keys missing. ,,Maybe she just went for a walk'' she tries to reason but as soon as the words leave her mouth she doubts them herself, even if this was the case, the danger to the coven and you still hadn't been completely gone.

,,Well do something, can't you teleport to her?'' Wilhemina slightly snaps. ,,I can but I would leave a trace, Billie get your keys. Sweetheart will you stay here please incase she comes back?'' the blonde asks and the redhead nods in response.

Meanwhile you had succesfully purchased what you intended to and are making your way back to the coven. As you walk down the long street towards the academy, you feel the pain piercing through your body again, reminding you it would now be the time for one of Cordelia's potions. The fact you hadn't been out in about two weeks, the slight heat and the pain are causing you to feel dizzy, your legs feeling wobbly and your vision slightly blurring. You stop walking for a second, leaning against a streetlight to your left and taking some deep breaths, while closing your eyes.

,,There'' Billie points out as her and Cordelia approach with the car. The two woman stop and instantly get out of the car, Delia sensing how you felt and holding your hand. Billie cups your cheeks and your cheeks turn a bit red as you see them, feeling embarassed they had to find you like this and knowing they would have worried. ,,Whats wrong sweetheart, where have you been babydoll?'' they ask. You smile and explain through a brave face you had just walked to the shops.

,,Why are you leaning against this thing then, looking pale?'' Billie counters. Your expressions shifts a little and you look at Cordelia. She was always the one you knew you couldn't really get in trouble with. ,,I think its time for the medicine, I just have some pain'' and Cordelia nods before helping you into the car and giving you some water. It takes less than a couple of minutes before you make it back to the coven, a worried Wilhemina already waiting by the front door.

Cordelia nods to Wilhemina, one that symbolizes that you are okay and as she sees the shopping bag in Billie's hand, she figured you had gone out for a bit. ,,Would you like to lay down for a little bit?'' Billie asks softly as she holds your hand, which you nod to in reponse. You let go of her hand and make your way up the stairs and past Wilhemina, smiling at her. ,,Let me help you'' Cordelia ushers after shutting the door'. But only part of her words reach you as your legs feel a little like giving up, their words sounding muffled and you sinking to the floor.

,,Y/N'' Billie calls out, instantly all three of them rushing to your side. Cordelia checks your vitals and quickly figures it was just the exhaustion from today sneaking up on you. With one swift motion, she carries you up the stairs and gently places you on the bed. Billie helped to get you comfortable and wrap you in a blanket. You opened your eyes for a second and mumble the words ,,tired'' before they assure you it was okay to rest.

,,What is happening to her?'' Wilhemina snaps as soon as you were fast asleep. ,,She hasn't had her potion for today, she was just a bit warm and probably dehydrated, she will be perfectly fine'' Cordelia assures, trying to stay calm. ,,This is your fault, those potions aren't helping her'' Wilhemina snaps back before Billie interrupts her. ,,Cordelia has saved her, which neither you or I could have done, if it wasn't for her, Y/N would be dead''. Wilhemina sighs, leaving the room, needing to be alone to calm herself down.

Wilheminas statement forced Cordelia to fold under the pressure a little bit but Billie was right there by her side, reminding her that it's hard for all of us and this was Minas way of handling it and that she knows Wilhemina didn't mean a word of what she said. Billie places a soft kiss on Cordelia's cheek before sitting at the end of the bed, inviting Cordelia to join her there, looking after you.

A couple of hours had passed of them sitting with you, using the moments of you being awake, to help you change your clothes or get you to drink and take medicine. Even if it was just for a couple of minutes at a time. After a while Billie looks at Cordelia before saying ,,I think you should go and talk to her'' and before the blonde tries to respond Billie reassures ,,We'll be okay here, promise''. Cordelia follows Billies advice as she goes to look for Wilhemina.

A few minutes had passed since Cordelia left the room before you open your eyes. Billie instantly smiles at you and tilts her head a little before asking ,,How are you babydoll?''. You sit up a little and as she aids to your side you reassure ,,I feel a lot better now''. Judging from the colour of your face and how clear your words sound, Billie believes you. She passes you a glass of water and you take some sips before asking. ,,Billie could you please pass me that bag from earlier?''. The medium looks around the room before handing it to you.

,,What were you doing out anyway?'' she asks confused and you hold her hand before saying. ,,I know this was your favorite and im so sorry'' before handing her her favorite blouse that had got ruined during the attacks. Billie instantly starts sobbing as you show her the blouse, and you quickly lean her forward and into your arms, placing the piece of clothing next to you on the bed. You hold her like this for a while, before your other two girlfriends enter the room, Wilhemina apologizing in her own way for what was said and Cordelia reassuring her it was okay.

Both the redhead and the blonde are a bit puzzled when they see you awake and holding a sobbing Billie. ,,Whats the matter?'' Cordelia asks before finding the bag and item on the bed. ,,Sweetheart'' she scolds, tilting her head in the exact same way Billie had before. ,,Now don't tell me you left the house, fainting in a result just to buy Miss Howard another piece of designer clothing'' Wilhemina jokes and scolds slightly at the same time. The gesture had touched her deeply but it was in her nature to try and light the situation up slightly.

Billie looks up and slightly chuckles through the tears. ,,I'm just really sorry'' you suddenly mumble. It took each of them by surprise as it finally seems you can talk about what had happened. Wilhemina approaches the bed. ,,Why are you sorry little one?'' she asks, her eyebrows furrowing in concern, while the two blondes look at you with that same expression, Bille's chin wobbling still.

,,I'm sorry that you can't sleep Mina, I'm sorry you have to worry so much Delia and do so much to protect us now and that this even happened in the first place. I'm sorry about your clothes Billie and just everything''. The emotions finally blurt out of you and as painful these confessions are, Cordelia is the first one to start feeling relief, knowing now is the time you can talk about this, which allows the four of you to work on this together.

,,Little one, I can't not sleep because of you, I'm awake at night thinking how this should have never happened and I should have protected you''. Wilhemina explains while locking eyes with you, a gentle smile forming on her face, now the real and raw Mina back that the three of you know and love so well. ,,Sweetie I don't care about my stupid clothes at all'' Billie starts before pausing ,,well in general I do but this is so different, you saved my life.'' she thanks you, tears swelling in her eyes again.

Cordelia speaks last, waiting for her other lovers to finish before taking both of her hands and cupping your cheeks. ,,You sweetheart, were so brave, you protected all three of us and the coven. I worry because of how much we love you and how much you matter to us''.

,,I do have some news from the meeting today'' Cordelia starts, causing for a little bit of anxiety to build up in all of your chests. ,,We have captured the organisation behind this, they wanted to get at me and weaken the coven but it's dealt with and I have made sure to protect the coven better than before. Nothing like this will ever happen again'' she promises while locking eyes with you.

The four of you end up in each others arms. Holding each other through the night, at last talking about the events that took place, how it made each of you feel and getting rid of all the leftover ,,what ifs?''. Cordelia smiles proudly at the sight in front of her a couple of hours later, you Billie and Wilhemina holding each other tightly, your arm wrapped around Cordelia.

And as she finally feels at peace with what had happened, she feels the worry slowly leaving her thoughts and her chest, allowing her to take deep breaths and fall asleep next to you, as you all hold each other. Knowing that no matter what life throws at you, the four of you will always have each other and everything will work out in the end, if you give it so much as time to heal together.

#sarah paulson #cordelia goode #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #billie dean howard x reader #ahs coven #billie dean howard #cordelia goode x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #cordelia x billie x wilhemina x reader #writing #fanfic #tw violence

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ofdemonessence · 3 months

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Will removed his hands from Delia's eyes. "Surprise." On the table in front of them were two wrapped presents:

One red box with a perfectly white ribbon around it, one white box with a deep red ribbon as decoration.

"You get to pick your own Valentine's gift this year. Your choice, but choose wisely.."

Delia's eyes widened with excitement as Will removed his hands, revealing the two beautifully wrapped presents on the table. She couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of love but also some juicy mystery in the air. Her mind raced with possibilities, trying to imagine what could be inside each box. The thought of choosing her own Valentine's gift filled her with delight. Carefully considering her options, she instinctively leaned towards the box with the red ribbon. It was a hard pick, but she went with her gut instinct.

With a sense of excitement and a touch of nervousness, Delia reached out and picked up that very box up in the air. She could feel the weight of it in her hands, the anticipation building within her and she tried guessing from that weight alone, but it was still a mystery. She looked at Will, her eyes shining with curiosity and a hint of mischievousness.

"Alright Will, I choose the one with the red ribbon," she said, her voice filled with anticipation. "I can't wait to see what you've chosen for me, my love."

@worldofsenelfy

#delia; answers #/omg this is so exciting for MEEE i can imagine delia's lol #worldofsenelfy #looking through your eyes || delia x will

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iincantatorum · 10 months

Note

Delia how long can Will hold his breath?

A slow smirk appeared on her face the last time she tested Will's capabilities to hold his breath, and that was when her well manicured nails were pressed against his throat so lovingly. Sheer thrill was all that was felt when she saw his eyes roll back, before her beloved nearly lost his senses and wits for the few seconds of ultimate bliss. Knowing she was capable of getting him to that state was enough to get her grinning when she was in her office alone. Will can hold his breath for a considerably long time...

"Like, when we're under-water? I haven't gone swimming with him, yeet~" but she had plans to make with him, and one included a much needed beach day. Ever since that yacht trip, Delia realized that her Will looked so good when he was nice and tan. He looked as though he was glowing.

@worldofsenelfy

#looking through your eyes || delia x will #worldofsenelfy #/she can't help it- all she thinks about are good memories with Will

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oh-mydarling · 10 months

Text

GIRLS' NIGHT

a drunken reader returns home to her lovers

pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Reader

Word count: 2.2K

warnings: alcohol, vomiting (not explicitly mentioned)

It was a Friday night at the coven and like always, that meant that you witches dispersed across the city. Some of the younger girls headed home for the weekend with their families and the older ones typically hung around, out drinking and clubbing every weekend.

You weren’t either, really. You didn’t have much of a family to go home to; the coven was your family as far as you were concerned. And as for the drinking, you weren’t a massive fan. Your ideal weekend was spent with your two loves in the quiet of the New Orleans mansion, reading and napping the stressful week away.

The three of you did have an agreement that while you all wanted nothing more than to spend every waking moment together, it was good to have space and do things separately. After all, it made it all the more rewarding when you came back to each other after a day apart and got to relish in each others’ presence.

So, on this occasion, you were getting ready to head out with Madison and Zoe. You were perched at the vanity, adding the finishing touches to your makeup while Billie lay sprawled on the bed, watching you intently in the mirror. She was still dressed from work, letting you have the bathroom before she showered and changed for the evening, but her feet were up in the air with her little pink slippers on, softening her appearance.

Delia was elsewhere in the coven, pottering around and preparing to close down for the night. There were a few young witches whose weekend plans had fallen through, and she had organised a movie night for them which she would be attending; right now, she was pouring popcorn into bowls and arranging snack platters for the girls. She felt awful that their weekends hadn’t gone to plan, and so she was eager to make them happy.

“You look perfect, angel” Billie drawled out, coming up behind you to give you a kiss on the cheek, “I wish I was coming so I could look at you across the bar,” she smirked, winking at you in the mirror. You laughed, blushing at her affection, “I wish you were coming too, Bill.”

“You’re gonna have a lovely time, baby, I’m excited for you!”

You laughed, “Not as lovely as you! A cute movie night with the little ones,” you teased, getting up from your chair to meet the other girls downstairs.

“Oh ha ha,” she laughed sarcastically, following you down the stairs into the kitchen to say bye to Delia.

Your supreme looked up from where she was working in the kitchen, giving you a soft smile and holding out an arm to bring you in, “you look beautiful sweetheart,” she smiled, kissing your temple, “thank you Delia!” You smiled, excited to go out after their compliments raised your ego.

“Look at our girl, do a twirl y/n!” Billie said, clapping her hands excitedly as you twirled for them, laughing lightly at their silliness.

“Now I have to go, they’re waiting for me!” You laughed, trying to escape them after they had captured you in their arms, covering you with kisses.

Your heels clicked down the hallway, running towards the girls as they waited for you by the door, Madison rolling her eyes at the three of you.

“Let’s go, y/n!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

You arrived at the bar and sat down at a corner table, sending a quick text to your girlfriends to let them know you arrived. Madison had gone to the bar to get you a drink, and you already regretted allowing her to choose your beverage, knowing she would likely be getting you whatever she thought would get you drunk the fastest.

Zoe was at the bar with her, ordering herself what you predicted to be a vodka coke, her usual drink of choice.

When they both returned, you got straight into the gossip, Madison giving you the gory details of her latest endeavours with her co-stars and Zoe gushing about Kyle. They always gave you the opportunity to chat about your relationship, but for some reason you never really wanted to. It felt weird to discuss the intimate details of your love life with the other witches, knowing you would be exposing their supreme, although she would’t have minded, of course.

You hadn’t really been keeping an eye on your drink; once you had had a few, you became so engrossed in conversation and telling your friends how much you loved them that you didn’t quite realise how often Madi made a trip to the bar to refill your drink. You didn’t even question it when when she mixed up the choice, preferring to mix alcohols instead of keeping you to one.

Some would perhaps call it a friendly sabotage, but you knew she just wanted you to let loose for one. And let loose you did. After getting kicked out of the bar for refusing to stop dancing on the table, the other girls had finally admitted defeat and decided they had better walk you home.

Back at the coven, none of the witches had really heard your approach, all too engrossed in the movie they were watching, although Billie would definitely deny that later.

They didn’t hear you stumble into the gates, trying and failing to push them open, nor did they hear you laughing your way up the front steps and struggling with your key in the lock while Madison rolled her eyes.

They did, however, hear you run into the lounge where the movie was playing, flicking on the lights and gaining the attention of every witch in the room.

Their heads whipped round at you stood in the doorway with a goofy smile, Cordelia frowning at you confusedly while Billie smirked.

“Hello everybody,” you grinned, “I love you all!” You shouted, making Billie snort.

The younger girls giggled, looking nervously at each other; this wasn’t what they had predicted for movie night, that was for sure.

Cordelia hopped up from her seat snuggled with the girls, ushering you out of the room while everyone burst into a fit of giggles, ‘okay, lets go and get you some water,” she mumbled, shooting a glare at Zoe and Madison.

Billie followed shortly after, switching the light back off to continue the movie while she wandered into the kitchen where you now were.

You had climbed up onto a chair of the kitchen table, arms in the air and swaying slightly while singing very badly. Poor Cordelia was fretting, holding onto the bottom of your skirt to keep you stable and trying to coax you down from the chair, while simultaneously scolding Zoe and Madison for being so irresponsible with you.

Bille sauntered in and leant against the doorway with her arms crossed, smirking at you. When you caught sight of her, you shrieked, pointing towards her, “my billie! There’s my silly billie!” You laughed hysterically, making her chuckle while Cordelia sighed, having now let you go so she could rub her temples in stress.

Billie came towards you, certain she would have more success than Cordelia in getting you down from the chair because she was laughing along with you, “well hello baby,” she laughed, “it looks like you had a nice time!”

She had her hands on your waist, looking up at you with the sweetest smile.

You were laughing, head thrown back and glowing under the light of the kitchen, and Bille swore her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t often you let yourself relax this much, and not only was it hilarious, but it warmed her through to know that you were enjoying yourself and felt safe enough to let your hair down.

“Billie, get her down,” Cordelia mumbled from where she stood against the kitchen counter, watching nervously in case you slipped.

“It’s okay Delia,” the medium smiled over at her, offering reassurance that she had you, you wouldn’t fall.

Zoe and Madison had skulked out of the kitchen, not wanting to be blamed for your silly behaviour, and so just the three of you remained in the kitchen now while the other witches supervised the remainders of movie night with the youngest girls.

“Baby, why don’t you come down and we can go to bed?” Cordelia asked, approaching you and holding out a hand next to Billie, which you quickly accepted, mistaking her tone for flirting, “ooh bed time, don’t mind if I do,” you leapt down and wiggled your eyebrows, causing Billie to snort once again, absolutely loving this side of you.

You pressed your lips sloppily against the supreme’s mouth, and she entertained you, despite the taste of alcohol that coated your tongue.

Billie cleared her throat next to you, “I hope you’re not forgetting me, babydoll,” she winked, causing you to pull away from Cordelia and plant your lips on hers next, giggling into the kiss.

You stopped suddenly, growing serious as you stared between them both, “I want fries.” You stated, not wavering in the slightest.

Cordelia laughed lightly, heading to the freezer to take them out and put them in the oven, “coming right up!”

“Thanks mommy!” You grinned cheekily, plopping yourself down on the kitchen chair you were once stood on.

“Oh Jesus,” Cordelia mumbled, while Billie lost her shit, cackling in a way you hadn’t heard for quite some time, which then had you doubled over laughing at her.

“What am I gonna do with you!” Delia laughed, coming over to sit next to you.

After lots of giggles and lots of nonsense from you, your fries were finally ready and Billie plated them up for you, handing them over with a wry smile.

You decided to skip the table and walked off down the hallway with your plate, leaving both women stood confusedly in your wake, frozen in stupor given the events of the evening.

You had been craving this since you had arrived at the bar; in fact, the drunk food was half the reason you decided to go in the first place, and you just couldn’t wait to take a bite. What you hadn’t considered, though, was the temperature of the food straight out of the oven, and you promptly yelped upon munching a fry and dropped the plate in shock.

The two blondes looked at each other, confused, before silently agreeing to venture out and find the source of the clatter. The sight that they found was definitely not one they anticipated; you were sat on the floor in a heap, plate of fries in front of you, crying silently. When you saw the two women approach, you started wailing, “my fries! My fries!”

Billie was laughing, which made you even more emotional in your drunken state, so Cordelia shot her a glare and sat down next to you, “no baby, don’t worry! They’re okay, see? They’re still on the plate! You can still eat them!”

And with that permission, you didn’t even wait to pick the plate up, instead dining on the fries that now sat on the floor and laughing to yourself at how funny it all was.

Suddenly you stopped munching. Mouth freezing while still half full of food, and you looked up at Cordelia worried. She knew instantly what was about to happen and she dragged you up to stand, “ooookay, let’s go to the bathroom, let’s go!”

She escorted you hurriedly up the stairs and into the ensuite where you prompted to empty your stomach of your floor fries. Cordelia held your hair back and rubbed circles on your back while Billie was still downstairs, prepping to deal with the inevitable hangover that awaited you.

She filled a jug of water, grabbed a salty snack for your morning cravings, and gathered up all the painkillers she could find; Cordelia would know which ones were best for you.

When she entered the bedroom, she could hear you and your girlfriend talking quietly, and after setting the items down she followed the sound into the bathroom, where she found you laying on the tile floor complaining to Delia about how you would never go out again.

“Poor baby,” Billie cooed, sitting down on the floor so she could stroke your hair. Delia was perched on the side of the bath, watching you carefully in case you needed to throw up again.

When you did muster up enough energy to move, they helped steady you as you walked out of the bathroom towards your bed, where you sat up against the pillows watching them move around the room, preparing themselves for an evening of sleep.

Cordelia wore silk pyjamas, applying moisturiser in the vanity and brushing her hair. Billie was gathering up her clothes, putting her heels back in the wardrobe, and brushing her teeth at the same time.

You sat silently, watching them both and incredibly grateful that they were the people you got to come home to.

Eventually, they made their way into bed with you, nestling you between them so they could keep an eye on you overnight. Cordelia handed you water she had poured from the jug and Billie stroke your hair, coaxing you to sleep; she knew you were always wired when you came home drunk, but she also knew how grateful you would be for a good night of sleep.

The next morning, the sun cracked through the window in the gap Cordelia had left in the curtains, and it felt to you as though it had penetrated your skull. Your head was pounding and the room was spinning, but at least you had your two loves to hold you still.

taglist: @lanawinters-ily

#billie dean howard x reader #Cordelia Goode x reader #billie dean howard x Cordelia Goode #Sarah Paulson #Sarah Paulson x reader #ahs #ahs coven #has murder house #billie dean howard #Cordelia Goode #american horror story #cordelia goode

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1986harrington · 2 years

Text

Steve Harrington x fem!reader Warnings: Mature Content (18+) Summary: Saturday nights are for milkshakes and making out in your boyfriend's car, until you're interupted by a rogue walkie-talkie...

“Okay, no, seriously. I gotta go.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and entirely unconvincing as it ghosted against the warm column of Steve’s throat, his hands squeezing your hips in response as your teeth nipped at his skin with the last pull of your lips. “Not that I’m complaining,” he breathed out with a laugh. “But you’ve been saying that for the last 20 minutes.”

Steve’s car had been parked on your street - a few houses down from your own to avoid any interrogation from your parents - for almost an hour now, in a failed attempt to have you home on time.

It was Saturday night and just like every other week, Steve had stopped by after he finished work at Family Video to pick you up from your shift at Delia’s. The tiny diner sat just on the edge of town, and for the most part was fairly quiet except for the occasional trucker or lost out of towner passing through.

You were supposed to work till nine, but every week at exactly eight fifteen, the door would chime to signal the arrival of your boyfriend. You couldn’t contain the swell of excitement that flooded your chest, and you'd make quick work of whatever you were doing - serving, or wiping down tables or shining glasses, and Steve would hover over by the wait station, propped up against it pretending to read the same old plastic menu that had been offering the same old dishes and black coffee since before either of you were born.

Luckily for you both, Delia was the best boss you could have asked for. She was in her fifties, graying hair and a sweet smile with an unexpectedly sharp sense of humor.

But the best thing about her?

She loved Steve.

She would watch each night as you hurried your way over to him, his arms outstretched to pull you in by the waist and off your feet, your face burying itself in the crook of his neck. She couldn’t hear what he would mumble into your ear, but the smile that reached all the way to his eyes when he leaned back to look down at you, and the sound of your laugh filtering around the diner in response reminded her of what it was like to be young and in love.

So when he eventually turned his attention to her - polite and charming and light-heartedly flirtatious - it didn’t take long for her to crack and shoosh you both out of the diner a little early, fries and milkshakes in hand.

Steve would drive you around aimlessly for a while, talking and laughing as the radio played softly in the background and you popped fries into his mouth, holding out his milkshake to him and offering him sips every so often.

The streets were dark and quiet and eerily peaceful these days, and you tried not to let your mind linger on it for too long. It had been three months and Steve’s wounds had healed, but you still found yourself fixating on the scars that littered his side, a suffocating kind of panic rising in your chest if you thought too hard about all the other possible outcomes.

He noticed your mind wandering, apprehension and fear clouding your gaze until suddenly you weren’t in the car with him anymore, but back at Lover’s Lake, watching him disappear into the depths.

He reached across to lay a hand on your leg, the palm of his hand warm and comforting against your bare thigh as his thumb rubbed soft circles into the skin until you released a shuddery breath and your eyes came back into focus again.

“Hey,” His voice, deep and reassuring, broke the silence that fell over you both. “We’re okay. I’m right here. Everything’s fine, a’right?”

Your eyes fell closed as he squeezed your leg, the pressure of his fingertips pressing into your skin grounded you and brought you back to the present. When you opened them again, the car had come to a stop and he was turned toward you in his seat.

Your gaze met his, the streetlights illuminating his features in a way that seemed to emphasise all your favorite parts of his face. You felt a smile pull at your lips, and watched as his did the same in response.

You spent the next while talking; mostly making plans for when you’d see each other throughout the rest of week, but at some point his hand dropped from where he had been leaning against the back of your seat and made its way into the hair at the nape of your neck. You had leaned into his touch on instinct, his thumb teasing along the line of your jaw as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. Steve smiled, bright and mischievous and entirely too pleased with himself before moving the same thumb up to gently pull your lip free. Before you knew it, you were across the console and in his lap, your legs either side of his hips and your hands in his hair as he held you in place by your hips.

Which is how you had ended up here.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he breathed out with a laugh, “but you’ve been saying that for the last 20 minutes.”

You hummed indignantly against his mouth, pulling back just enough to raise your brow at him.

“Well by all means, if you’ve got some place better to be, don’t let me stop you.” You quipped, knowing that he loved it when you were sarcastic, beginning to slide off his lap and back toward the passenger seat.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve cut you off, a strong arm wrapping itself around your waist and pulling you back into his lap until you were even closer than before, your front pressed up against his chest.

“I’ve got literally no place else to be. Ever.”

You laughed as he leaned in to close the gap between your mouths again, his tongue quickly finding the seam of your lips. You stubbornly kept them pressed together, humming in false protest with a soft shake of your head. Steve cursed under his breath with a laugh before deliberately shifting you on his lap over his hardening length until your lips parted with a soft gasp.

“That’s cheating,” you breathed into his mouth with a giggle, tugging on his hair just how he liked it and you felt him smile against your jaw as his lips made their way down towards your neck.

“Yeah? Well you’re not exactly playing fair with this outfit.” He grinned, tugging at the front of the baby blue pinafore you wore for work.

“Baby, you’re kidding right? First of all, it’s not an outfit. It’s a uniform.”

“Yeah. A sexy uniform.”

“I guess, if greasy diner aprons do it for you.”

“Everything on you does it for me, but these especially…” He dropped his hands down to your thighs, palming the expense of bare skin from the hem of your dress down to the tops of the white knee high socks that you were also forced to wear.

“Knee highs, really? Not a very original kink, Harrington.”

“Good thing I’ve got plenty more,”

“Huh… remind me, what are those again? Oh, right…” you teased, threading your fingers back into his hair and pulling hard until the back of his head hit the head rest with a strained laugh. Your mouth went straight to his neck, pressing hot kisses there before sucking a bruise onto his favourite spot.

"Two can play at that game, Princess."

Before you knew it, his hands had slid back up your legs, under your dress and tugged at the elastic of your underwear, letting it snap harshly against the bare curve of your hip.

“Fuck,” you hissed, pulling your lip between your teeth with a satisfied grin.

Steve didn’t say a word, just grinned at you, a sexy kind of smugness gracing his features.

“Well played, handsome.”

Your hands slid from his hair, fingertips grazing his neck as they made their way to the strong muscle of his shoulders, down his chest and toyed with the hem of his sweater.

Your eyes quickly scanned the street around you, checking for headlights or nosey neighbours, but everything was still and quiet except for the boy panting underneath you. Your eyes glittered, cheeks flushed and pulse hammering, your blood feeling hot under your skin as you asked him a silent question with a raise of your eyebrow.

“Really?” He replied, an excitement in his voice that you might have found endearing if you weren’t so turned on. “Here?”

You gave a shrug, as though you weren’t really bothered either way, but really it was taking all of your self control not to start rocking your hips against him

“Why not?”

“I’ve told you I love you, right?”

“Only every day for the last four months. Some days twice.”

Your mouth dropped back to his, lips moving slowly at first but frantic within seconds as he shifted in the seat beneath you, hands gliding over the curve of your ass and pulling you forward until your knees hit the back of his seat and you were flush against him.

Suddenly you felt hot and constricted by the material wrapped around you both and you needed it gone. You found the hem of his sweater again, tugging it up as he bent his arms awkwardly above his head to allow you to pull it all the way off. You tossed it into the back seat, your hands returning to his shoulders to steady yourself before gliding down his chest, nails scraping over the subtle ridges of his abs until your fingertips met the cool metal of his belt buckle.

“Fuck, do that again,” Steve cursed out, his voice strangled as he leaned back into the seat.

“What? This?” You asked teasingly, relishing in the way his whole body melted under your touch, the muscles in his stomach tensing and his shoulders locking as you scraped your nails up his sides and back down his stomach again, harder and slower than before.

You could feel him, hard and hot beneath his jeans and pressing against you in a way that was making it difficult for you to keep up the teasing. But you weren’t ready to give up the hold you had over him just yet, so once you reached his buckle, you let one hand continue down until you were palming him over his jeans. He shot forward in the seat, his forehead landing on your shoulder as his hands came up to pull at the buttons that held your dress together.

“This needs to come off, right fucking now,” He all but panted, his fingers making quick work of the top few buttons until he could slide it down off your shoulders and it pooled around your waist. His mouth went straight to your tits, kissing and biting at the warm, soft swell of them. Your head dipped backwards when you felt his tongue trace along the lacy edge of the sheer cup, teeth pulling at it until your nipples were stiff and sensitive and he mouthed at them over the fabric.

You don’t know when it happened, but his hands had taken hold of your hips again and he was rocking you against him. Pleasure coursed through you, your legs tingling with an all too familiar sensation that travelled up your spine until you could feel it everywhere. You shuddered, goosebumps prickling at your skin, fire licking at your insides until you felt like you were gonna bite right through his bottom lip that you had between your teeth.

“Shit.” Steve bit out, his hand dipping between you both, pushing your underwear to the side as he begged against your lips. “Please tell me you’re ready. Please tell me you’re- fuuck…” He groaned, his fingers slick and sliding into you with ease as you as you gasped against him at the contact.

“Thank God,” He choked out. “I'm not gonna last, baby, please. If you move another inch without me inside of you, this is gonna get really embarrassing.”

Your breathy, desperate laugh coasted along his jaw. “Well what are you waiting for then, Harrington?”

Your hands went to the button beneath his already open belt, his cock hard and straining painfully against the fabric, so sensitive that he was worried he might come in his pants before you even got him out of them. But just as you began to lift your hips, a high-pitch static noise blared from the backseat and you yelped, leaping out of Steve’s lap, your head hitting the roof as you landed rather ungracefully back in the passenger seat.

“What the f-” Steve half-shouted, suddenly remembering they were in a deserted street.

“Oh god, that’s so gross. Do you copy, Steve? We said that’s so gross!”

It took a second for you both to realise that the robotic-sounding voice coming from the backseat belonged to Dustin, muffled through the walkie by Steve’s sweater that had landed on it.

“Oh my god!” You whisper-shouted at him, gesturing in the direction of the backseat as you tried to button your dress back up.

“Relax, it’s not like they can see us.”

“Actually, we can. We’re literally right here.” Lucas's voice replied from the walkie.

Both you and Steve spun in your seats, looking out both windows trying to see where the kids had been lurking.

Steve scrambled for the walkie, collecting his sweater with it.

“Where the hell are they? Can you see them?” He asked you, but Max jumped in to reply before you could.

“Up here, dumbass.”

Suddenly a light turned off and on across the street a few times, capturing both your attention and there was Dustin, Max and Lucas huddled in the window, waving down at you.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?!” Steve yelled, frustrated and confused - but mostly frustrated - and Dustin yanked the walkie further away from his ear as Steve’s voice blared out on the other end.

“Lucas lives here. What the hell are you two doing here? Other than sucking face in public.” Dustin replied, and you could hear Lucas snickering in the background.

“Listen here, you little shitheads-” Steve began before you grabbed the walkie from him.

“What Steve meant to say was, we totally weren’t sucking face in public. Not at all. You see, what happened was, Steve thought he had something in his hair - you guys know what he’s like when it comes to his hair, right? I was just innocently helping him look and-”

“And he had to take his sweater off for that why?” Lucas enquired.

“Uh, well-” You stammered.

“And how exactly did you taking your dress off help?” Dustin interjected.

“God, you two are morons,” Max eventually chimed in. “She wasn’t helping him look for anything. They were having se-”

“ALRIGHT. THAT’S IT. I’m turning this off now, goodnight.”

“But-”

The radio cut out as Steve flipped the switch, sitting it up on the dashboard before resting his head on his forearms against the steering wheel.

“So, uh, I guess I really should go now…” You said, and there was no response for a second until Steve’s shoulders started to shake and suddenly you couldn’t hold the laughter in anymore.

“Y’think?” He asked, laughter rumbling from him as he sat back up and leaned against the seat.

“Why didn’t you tell me Sinclair lived across the freakin’ street before you jumped me?”

“I- First of all, I didn’t know he lived here. My house is like 10 more houses that way, remember?” You defended, pointing up the street.

“And second of all?” Steve asked, grinning wider when a scowl crept across your face.

“Well, I was gonna say I didn’t jump you. But I kinda did.”

“Uh huh. Kinda. Sure.”

“Okay, okay! So I jumped my hot boyfriend in the front seat of his car. Sue me.” You laughed, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips before pushing the door open and finally getting out.

The cool air licked at the too-warm skin of your legs and chest, and you already missed his touch.

“See you tomorrow, yeah?” You grinned, pushing the door shut as quietly as you could.

Steve just nodded, still smiling as you turned to head up the street towards your house, waving at the kids still lingering in the window.

Steve on the other hand, gave himself a few minutes before he started up the engine, turned in the street and flipped them the middle finger before heading home.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things fic

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marchtomydrums · 1 year

Text

Welcome to my world.

Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader

You know normally this isn't you. You're not the type of girl that goes out on Friday nights and gets wasted. But... After a long and stressful day here you are..drunk off your ass waiting for your girlfriends to pick you up. This wasn't your intention...no you were only going to have a couple of drinks with some friends. But somehow a couple of drinks turned into a couple more..which then turned into shots.

And now shots, shots, and more shots. Now you sit on the barstool dangling your feet as you wait for your girls to come to get you. They've never really seen you drunk before so you wondered how this will go. Unfortunately, you didn't have long to think about it because here they come one right behind the other looking around the bar for you.

You smiled waving over to them shouting “Hi!!!”

Billie smiles as she walks over to you. “Hello, princess. I see you've been enjoying yourself.”

You giggled “Only a little bit.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded smiling up at her as you look over her shoulder spotting Cordelia watching you with a small grin.

“Hi, Delia.”

“Hi, baby. You have a good time?”

“Mmmhm. But I'm ready to go now.”

“Okay, love. Let me pay the bartender and Billie will you go tell her friends she's leaving?”

Billie nods as she walks off. Cordelia looks back at Mina.

“Mina stay with her please?”

“If you insist.” the redhead sighs.

You frowned at her tone as Cordelia walks off.

“Mina?” you called out to her. She looks over at you raising her eyebrows.

“Come here please,” you asked curling your finger at her.

The woman sighs as she walks closer to you.

“Yes?”

“Are you mad at me?” you asked frowning.

“Yes.”

“Why???” you whined.

“Because y/n you're completely wasted. You put yourself in danger. Thank God your friends had some sense to call us.”

“I was just trying to have some fun.” you pout.

“Well did you get your fill?”

“No.”

“No?” she asked.

“Nope,” you said popping the p.

“And Why is that?”

You smiled as you wrapped your legs around her waist pulling her closer to you.

She gasped holding on to your shoulders to steady herself.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I'm sorry Mina. I know I've been a bad girl. I guess you're just going to have to punish me.” you said trying to sound innocent.

“Oh really? Is that what you want little one?”

You nodded leaning forward to whisper into her ear.

“It's all I've been thinking about. I'm so wet Mina. You want to feel?” you asked her grabbing her hand and guiding it underneath your dress to your heated core.

The redhead moans as her fingertips glide through your soaked folds.

“Mmm. No underwear. That's another reason to punish you.”

“I wanted you to have easy access.” you giggled causing her to groan.

“What's going on over here?” Billie asked.

You smiled looking over at her and Cordelia.

“Just showing Mina how ready I am for y'all,” you said winking at Cordelia.

“Ahh..so you're a horny drunk. I like it, princess.” Billie says with a smirk making your smile grow.

“Yes well unfortunately y/n is too drunk for any fun tonight. Maybe once you've sobered up.” Cordelia says making you pout instantly.

“Oh come on Delia. Don't you just want to take me home and fuck me??” you whined.

Cordelia chuckles as she walks towards you. “Any other time yes I would love to but as of right now we're taking you home and putting you to bed.”

“Billie?” you pout looking over at the blonde.

“Oh babydoll you know I love you but Cordelia is right. “

“Ughh.” you groaned rolling your eyes.

“Don't worry little one I will be sure to punish you tomorrow. I can't guarantee you'll enjoy it though.” Mina says with a sly grin as she walks off with Cordelia following behind her.

“Great so I get no sex and now I'm in trouble,” you whined.

Billie chuckles as she helps you up.

“Welcome to my world sweetheart.”

#wilhemina venable #cordelia goode x reader #billie dean x reader #lgbtq #wlw #writing #fiction #television #age difference #poly representation #ahs coven #ahs apocalypse #ahs murder house

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heyidkyay · 1 year

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I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Twenty

A/n: Hello lovelies:)! Part 20 is here!! Felt like I owed you lot a quicker update after the last and it's a much longer one than usual too! It's probably my favourite so far actually, so I hope you enjoy x

| Just a brief mention- this chapter has a lot of different scenes! You'll understand more of what I mean as you read on but a lot happens! ALSO I'm nowhere near fluent in the language used in this part, I did it as a gcse and that's about it. So pls don't slew me in the replies! Thanksssss, love you lots!

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Thievery. (yes.) ummm, swearing's always a given, a grumpy Ross too... lots of fluff and fun though? Or bits and pieces of it at least. Oh and a little ribbing against Americans but they're alllll just stereotypes!! And I do love you lot so it's not said nastily x

Feel like a lot could go wrong with this part, pls don't hate me😅

Masterlist

—

“Alright. Start packing.”

I frowned over at the suitcase Matty had thrown onto my bed.

“For what?” I replied from where I was perched on the window seat, knees tucked up under my chin with a book in hand. It was one of the three places I’d taken to hiding in since my last outing at Delia’s a couple of days ago. Hiding seemed like the best option right now.

“Airport.” Matty told me in prompt, already having walked his way over towards my chest of drawers and begun pulling out an array of tops. He wrinkled his nose between two and then glanced at me from over his shoulder, “Why do you have two of the same fucking shirt?”

With a crease between my brow, I fixed him with a halfhearted glower. “Says you. And why are you headed to the airport?”

“We.” Matty corrected casually, flinging a pair of denim shorts onto the bed. “Why are we headed to the airport. And well, ’cause we are.” He gave me a simple shrug as though things were that easy.

“Matty…” I tried, wearily shuffling forward out of my comfortable position so that I could move closer to him. “What do you mean? Why are we going to the airport?”

“Because,” He drawled out, still riffling through the top drawer of my dresser, “Airports are where planes take off, you know, those big metal birds you see in the sky.”

“Right. Yeah. I get that.” I answered him, absolutely baffled. “But why?”

“Why what?”

I groaned and Matty flashed me a shit-eating grin, obviously pleased with himself.

“Why are we going to the airport, Matty!”

“‘Cause we’re getting on one of those metal birds.”

“Matty, we are not getting on a fucking plane.” I denied, eyes as wide as saucers whilst I hastily tried to stop him from throwing any more of my wardrobe about the room. “So stop being a div and put all my shit back.”

Matty merely rolled his eyes and ignored my complaints, only turning back to face me when he held a yellow laced thong between two fingers and catapulted it at me. I scowled and swiped the offending item from off my head.

“Matty!” I stressed, getting the ump now.

“Oh, come on. Just go with it, yeah?” He said then, looking at me with a tilted head and appeasing eyes. “I figured we could both use some time to just chill, relax even. And the only time I’ve ever felt closer to being exactly that was when we were sixteen and in Tenerife.”

I blinked back at him owlishly, not really internalising his words. “The holiday with your dad and Lou?”

Matty started nodding away at me in reply before he spun back around and headed for the sliding door that hid the rest of my clothes. “Exactly! Figured a couple days spent lounging under the Spanish sun might do us both some good.”

I gaped at his retreating back, beyond bewildered at this point.

“Are you being serious?”

“When have I ever fucking joked about a holiday, darlin'?” He quipped right back and I had to card a hand through my hair in attempt to try and wrap my head around things.

Now that I was actually messing with it I figured my hair probably needed a wash, but even so I couldn’t linger too much on that thought, not when Matty was apparently jetting off to Tenerife with a suitcase full of my clothes!

“Matty, just… please slow down, would you?” I murmured, tugging at my scalp as I glanced about my room that was in sudden disarray.

Matty pivoted on his heel to face me, a couple hangers dangling off the crook of his elbow. I shook my head and chose not to focus on that, nor the loose strands of hair that fell into my face.

“I can’t just go to Tenerife!” I told him imploringly, “Are you actually insane?”

I was met with a pinched expression and thin lipped smile, “Why not?”

I spluttered at him. “Why not?! Because I’ve got things keeping me here! Like my next check up, and my job at Delia’s! My fucking arm is still in a cast, Matty! And I still struggle to get in and out of bed most days! How the hell am I meant to get on a plane to Spain?”

Matty’s stance seemed to shift upon hearing my worries and so he dropped the bundle of clothes he held, I tried not to wince at the motion even as he trod over them to stand closer to me.

“Love, listen to me, yeah? You’ll be back in time for your next appointment, we’ll be gone a couple days max. And Delia doesn’t need you anywhere near her shop until you’re right as rain again.” His eyes were searching mine, he had a careful hand on my shoulder. “Besides the excuse about your arm is utter crap, and you are getting better. So much so in fact, that even Dr Mann reckons a bit of sun will do you some good.”

I frowned. “You spoke to Dr Mann?”

Matty gifted me lopsided smile, “‘Course I did. She even recommended a couple of sunscreens to me and insisted I buy you one of those umbrella hats to keep the sun off your giant head.”

I glared at him. “You better fucking not.”

That smile of his started to grow and his eyebrows lifted in excitement the second I realised what I’d just said. “So, is that a yes then?”

I chewed on my lower lip, gaze darting between Matty’s own ruddy brown and then swallowed thickly.

“‘Spose so.” I mumbled with only a tiny knot of anxiety welling in my stomach.

Matty grinned brightly and I couldn’t help my light chuckles when he started jumping about excitedly, looking like a Labrador that’d just been let of its lead.

“Fucking Tenerife baby, here we come!”

—

“I hate airports.”

“Ditto.”

“Is that even a thing here?”

“What, ditto?”

I hummed, eyes searching the terminal.

“Reckon so.”

“Maybe it’s one of those many American things you’ve picked up.” I teased, “Traitor to your own, you are.”

“Leave off.” Matty chuckled at me from where he was hidden under a pair of black sunglasses.

“You gonna start spelling colour wrong and try wearing pants instead of trousers now too?”

He scowled, even from behind his darkened shades I could tell, it was all in the mouth with Matty. It typically flattened and forced itself out into a sarky sort of smile whenever he wasn't very impressed.

“Ha ha, hilarious. That the best you got?” He shot back.

“Nah, could talk about your brash arrogance too, but I reckon that’s just a you thing as well as an American one.”

Matty scoffed, “Just ‘cause I own it, love, don’t make it a bad thing.”

I widened my eyes sarcastically at him in reply before glancing out over the runway.

We were currently hidden away in the First class lounge, him in a cap and shades, me in a hoodie and beanie. There weren’t too many people mulling about, though it was rather late and our flight wasn’t set to take off until just gone eleven. Currently it was only nearing a quarter past ten.

“Excited then?” Matty asked me, drawing my attention back to him.

Was I excited? I guess so, but also anxious. I was an alright flyer, mainly due to having been Matty’s main distraction during all our years spent travelling together, but after the accident everything sort of felt different. I was different.

I kept on waiting for that burst of adrenaline to kick in and bubble over, the type I often got whenever one of the guys roped me into something stupidly spontaneous, but it had yet to even spark.

I nodded at Matty though, foot tapping aimlessly away beside my carryon. “Think so, just nervous.”

“That’s meant to be my job.”

We shared a knowing smile, but then I shrugged. “Dunno, just feels strange. Think I’ll be more enthusiastic about it once we land and get to the hotel.” I paused for a second then and darted my head over in his direction, “You did book a hotel though, right?”

His eyebrows rose high up over his sunglasses just as his mouth dropped. “Oh fuck.”

My eyes widened in alarm, already moving to grab my phone so that we could start a search. But Matty’s snickering caught me just before I could. I shot him a harsh glare in retort and shoved at his shoulder when I realised he’d just been having me on.

“You’re such a dick.”

“I couldn’t not.” He snorted, face full of amusement. Though with another shove Matty relented and slung an arm across my shoulders to drag me in, “Don’t worry, I sorted it all. You’ll love it and we’ll have a sick time.”

“You better fucking hope so.”

—

The flight had been alright, a bit of turbulence to deal with as well as a whinging Matty, but other than that, it’d been fine. Customs had also been quite the breeze, seeing as we’d landed in the early hours of the morning and my semi-conversant Spanish had come in handy with one of the security officers. It was just the car ride over to where we were staying that really fucked us.

Matty had originally hired a car to pick us up from the airport but it’d cancelled on us at the very last second, and trying to get hold of a taxi driver that was willing to take us as far as we were looking to go proved to be a rather difficult task.

When we finally did though- after one bloke with a bleached goatee had practically doubled the original asking price- the journey had been bumpy enough that I’d had to fight with my suitcase in the backseat just to get a hold of my painkillers. Matty had tried to help of course, but it’d been a struggle to even breathe in the tiny cab, let alone have him move around and find them for me.

So by the time we arrived I was shot to hell and beyond thankful to escape the stupid car and its extremely boisterous owner.

“You alright?” Matty asked me quietly once he’d reluctantly paid the man, rolling his eyes at the twat when the car pulled away from the curb, muttering under his breath.

“Yeah, just wanna sit down.” I replied uncomfortably, but that was before I finally caught sight of the building we’d pulled up outside. “Fucking hell, Matty.”

When I glanced back over at him, he was wearing the biggest smirk anybody could’ve possibly mustered. “Snazzy, ey?”

Fuck snazzy. It was insane. I’d been way off when I’d asked him about the hotel booking, because he’d only gone and rented out an entire sodding villa.

“You’re mental.”

“Been calling me that a lot, as of late.” Matty noted, pursing his lips at me whilst he braced himself against his suitcase, “Bit mean if you think about it actually, seeing as I’ve done all this for us.”

My smile was soft, tired, but oh so genuine when I peered back over at him, and caught him a tad off guard when I wrapped my one good arm around his middle. “You are mental but you’re also amazing. So thank you.”

He squeezed me back, cautious of my torso when he did, before we parted ways and he gestured his head over towards the front door. “You wanna stand outside all day then or are we headed in?”

—

The villa was incredible. Honestly, it felt like something out of a dream.

We had our very own bar, pool, hot-tub, sauna and gym, even a pizza oven which resided right beside the built in fire-pit! Not that either Matty or I would be going anywhere near it, ovens back home were hard enough to handle and one with an open flame was not something we could get behind, even sober.

Speaking of being sober though, Matty had actually decided to take to it during our stay here. Alcohol wise at least… or so he claimed he’d try. But come noon our first day here and I could already tell that he was dying for a glass of wine out by the pool.

Still he didn’t, and so I simply started counting down the hours until he eventually caved.

Apparently our trip abroad hadn’t been too expected either, seeing as Ross had phoned me up the second he’d seen my instagram story and started ranting about his invitation. I’d attempted to pacify him by assuring that I hadn’t even been aware of it up until the point when Matty had come barging in the day of.

It was nice though. Getting away.

Home had just felt too confined now that I was out here. Sort of like leaving a cage you hadn’t even known you’d been trapped in.

The sun and the sea was everything I’d needed and more. It soothed my restlessness and calmed my chaotic thoughts, even dulled the ache my body was constantly in.

“Oi, fancy heading into town? Reckon we might need more than what we picked up earlier.”

Matty’s voice broke me from where I’d been sat daydreaming beside the pool, clad in a pair of short dungarees and a tee whilst I waded my legs back and forth through the water.

I glanced up at him, squinting in the afternoon sun. He frowned down at me in return.

“Don’t make me buy you one of those hats, ‘cause I swear I will.” Matty scolded as he made his way closer, tearing the cap he wore from off his head and placing it on mine instead. I wrinkled my nose but allowed the gesture, knowing the heat would only prey on me and my many medications. “And you’d best have sunscreen on too, I don’t need a bollocking at your next checkup, yeah?”

“Alright, dad. Calm down, would you? I put it on after I showered.” I told him with a roll of my eyes, extending an arm outwards so that he’d get the hint and help me up. He did, whilst pursing his lips in distaste- likely at the epithet used. “Besides, I thought I was meant to be relaxing. Ever since you woke up you’ve been on my case.”

“Oi,” Matty said, stopping me just before I could slip past him with a steady hand to my wrist. “It’s ‘cause I care, alright? I know you can take care of yourself but, I don’t know, it just helps ease my mind.”

I searched his expression, saw the honesty in his eyes and the sincerity that creased the skin of his forehead. Ultimately, I gave him a nod and released a sigh, “How far’s town then?”

—

“Ninety-five percent sure that that is the exact same bar we hid in when were sixteen and tried escaping from that one crazy fucker with the wooden tooth.”

I blinked at the sudden memory his comment brought forth and snorted at the picture my mind painted. “He only chased us because he thought you swiped an apple off his stall!”

“Oh yeah.” Matty chuckled then, nodding at the reminder as we wandered down a small street full of flavourful aromas. “Probably 'cause I did.”

A sharp laugh escaped me at his easy admission and I shook my head whilst attempting to dull my giggles.

“Don’t fucking laugh, it was your fault!” Matty blamed, though he was laughing lightly too even as I leaned into his side to steady myself.

“My fault!” I countered him, mouth open in shock at the blatant lie. “How was it my fault?”

“You said you were starving and it was a long walk back to the hotel! I had fuck all on me, and so I just pocketed it as we passed- it was in the moment!” He defended, taking my arm in his now, still smiling away.

“Oh fuck, I actually do remember that.” I agreed with a gleeful grin of my own, letting him lead us on further up the street at a sedated pace. “Hey- I did share it with you though. Had that barman grab us a knife for it too, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, just before you talked him into pouring the both of us shots.”

“What can I say?” I smirked over at him, “Even at sixteen I had a way with words.”

Matty snorted, “That or the fact he was mesmerised by your tits.”

I elbowed his side but failed in my attempt to dampen my grin, “Well, you got your shot, didn’t you? Made the journey home all the more exciting too.”

“That it did.” Matty smiled at me before he caught sight of something up ahead. “Why don’t we carry on the tradition, ey?”

And before I could even blink, he was out of my reach and walking away from me. My brow furrowed though I still wore a small smile, confused as I followed behind him, watching as he worked his way through the tiny market before us and up to the top of the street.

Matty rounded the corner in the next moment and so I quickened my pace to try and catch up. I found him leaning casually against a terracotta coloured wall, one ankle crossed over the other whilst he grinned like a sneaky little kid who had yet to be caught.

“What was that all about?” I asked, a tad out of breath now.

He simply shrugged and pulled the hand he’d been hiding behind his back into view. I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was, because there it was. Catching a ray of light from the slowly setting sun, was a bright red apple.

I could only shake my head as I laughed and hurried over to join him, stealing the fruit from his grasp and taking a massive bite out of it before he could even react.

“Thief!” He gasped dramatically and I grinned around the apple I’d just eaten, feeling more like myself than I had in a long while.

“Takes one to know one, I ‘spose.”

With a sly smile, Matty snatched the apple back and bit into it too. “Where to now then?” He prompted as he offered an arm out to me, chewing carelessly away.

“Fancy aiming any higher? Reckon there’s got to be a bank around here somewhere…”

—

“Perdón, is this seat taken?”

I heard a strong accented voice ask from right beside me and so I peered up away from the book I'd been lost in and into the eyes of a handsome stranger.

Blinking, I looked back and forth between him and the wooden chair he was pointing to. I was quick to shake my head in retort, offering it up to him.

“Adelante, es suya.” I said, and he smiled down at me politely before simply slipping into the seat. I was a little taken back by the gesture, having figured he’d only wanted the chair for a nearby table, seeing as the restaurant was growing more and more by the minute.

“Discúlpame, pensé que eras una chica inglesa.” He replied after he’d gotten comfortable at our little table in the corner. His Spanish caught me off guard for a moment and I took a second to translate his words in my own head. I had to laugh a little when I did, and he tilted his head towards me with a mirthful smile of his own. “¿Qué?”

“Lo siento,” I apologised, dog-earing my book before I reverted back to English. “It’s just that, I am English.”

His eyebrows rose and I watched as his eyes quickly trailed up and down my figure. He appeared shocked almost. “I should be the one saying sorry!” He hurried to cajole, “I- just your Spanish, it is rather good.”

I tried to fight the unexpected blush his compliment gave me, and brushed his words off. “You’re fine, I’m just glad I didn’t offend you with my pronunciation.”

“No, no. Honest. I didn’t think anything of it.” He told me, and he seemed truthful. “Forgive me, but where did you learn?”

“Oh, from a family friend.”

In truth, I’d only picked it up from one of my mum’s many boyfriends. He’d lived with us the longest and had an elderly grandmother who he visited infrequently. My mum had sent me with him a couple of times and the woman seemed to take to my added presence, she'd taught me most of what I now knew.

I’d stop in to see her once or twice a week, mostly on my way home from school, and continued to do so even after he and my mum had split. She’d been lovely, always made me feel safe and welcomed, but sadly passed away a few months before I’d had the chance to leave home.

I thought of her from time to time, mostly whenever my mind wandered to thoughts of what was after all of this. If there really was something waiting up (or down, I supposed) there for us all.

“They did an excellent job!” The stranger complimented again, and I took a moment to give him the once over. Nice smile, pretty eyes, dark hair which only complemented his olive complexion.

“Thank you.” I smiled, unable to help the small burst I pride I felt. And here I thought I’d been butchering the language this entire time!

“Of course.” And he returned the sentiment- though I silently conceded that ‘nice smile’ had been somewhat of an understatement now. “Can I ask what you are reading?”

I blinked at his question before he could catch me staring and diverted my focus over to where I’d left my book. “Oh, um, The Bell Jar?”

He hummed and went to take it.

“May I?” He asked me before he did, and I gave him the go ahead, watched as his eyes danced across the back of the novel. “What is your favourite?”

“My favourite book?”

He replied with a soft nod and I had to think it over.

“It sounds silly, but for a long time it had always been Pride and Prejudice. I stuck by it, read it a couple dozen times, watched the film again and again, even dragged my friend along to this giant garden they’d filmed it in. Then someone gifted me One Hundred Years of Solitude and I was hooked. Completely changed me. I fell in love with it, in truth.”

His eyes seemed to brighten at the sound of the second novel, though he’d seemed truly interested in hearing my reply.

“One Hundred Years of Solitude, now that one is increíble.” He divulged me, leaning in closer to be heard over the rest of the tiny restaurant with a doting smile. “My mother, she loved it too.”

I grinned at that and continued to chat with him, first about the book, then about Spain and what I thought of life here, he noticed my cast after a long while and questioned me on it just as we were stirred from our conversation.

“Alright?”

Was the word that clued me in to Matty’s sudden arrival and I glanced up, somewhat startled, to see him smirking down at me, eyes lingering momentarily on the stranger who sat knee to knee with me.

“See you’ve been quick to replace me.” He teased, waving off the man’s apology and the offering of his seat. Matty instead shook his head and slotted himself into the chair opposite us, the one I’d originally been saving for him.

“You said you’d be gone ten minutes!” I laughed in reply when I’d finally pulled myself together- already far too aware of what had probably caught his eye, or rather who.

“And I apologise! Sincerely I do, with my whole entire heart even. But what was I to do when I saw a lady in need? Not stop and offer my help?” Matty replied theatrically, always in his element when putting on a show.

I hummed and raised an inquisitive brow, unable to help my sardonic smile. “And that took you nearly an hour?”

He winced slightly in jest before he relaxed back into his seat. “What can I say, I’m very… thorough.”

I grimaced around a short laugh. “What you are is an idiot.”

Matty merely grinned and gifted me a soft shrug that couldn’t be helped, before he turned towards our party’s newest addition. “Thanks for keeping her company, mate, but just who might you be?”

I went to answer for him, but came up short when I realised we had yet to even swap names.

The man appeared to find a little amusement in it though, and glanced over towards Matty to give him his reply. “Alvaro. And I was happy to, I apologise for stealing your seat.”

With another wave of his hand, Matty shook his head good-naturedly. “You’re all good, man. ‘M Matty.”

Alvaro smiled with a dip of his head and shook Matty’s hand in greeting, before he then turned to me. I realised a little belatedly that he was now waiting on my name. Matty snorted under his breath at the wide-eyed expression I must've made and I kicked at his shin from beneath the table, ignoring his sudden scowl in favour of glancing towards the handsome stranger.

“Y/n.” I told him around a sheepish smile, but it appeared to grow when Alvaro grinned sweetly in return and pressed a gentle hand to my shoulder.

“Well, Y/n, it has truly been a pleasure.” He murmured to me, enticing eyes locked on mine as he got up from his seat and ducked down towards me. “A mí me basta con saber que tú y yo, existimos en este preciso momento.”

My breath got caught in my throat upon hearing a quote from the book we'd spoken about and it lodged itself there when the Spanish man pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.

“Hasta que nos volvamos a ver. No?”

I swallowed and nodded up at him, touching the back of his hand to show I understood before I let him pull away. I watched him go then, eyes trailing after his retreating figure until he could no longer be seen and tried to wrap my mind around the entire encounter.

“Wow.”

Inhaling sharply, I spun around in my seat to find Matty leant back in his, smirking over at me.

“What?” I questioned and pretended to take a sudden interest in the menu that had been casted to one side a long time ago.

I heard him chuckle lowly before he followed on. “Just- that. The chemistry! Christ, if you don’t shag him I think I just might.”

I couldn’t help the airy huff of laughter that escaped me then and chanced a glance over my menu to find Matty still smirking away without a care in the world.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Bollocks it wasn’t.” Matty argued and set down his own menu to lean across the table towards me. “He was proper into you. I mean, how’d you even get to talking?”

I shrugged, eyes still trained on the many appetisers the bistro had to offer. “He asked for a chair.”

“He asked for a chair?” Matty repeated, though his tone was lined with a lot more bewilderment. “You’re joking, right?”

Again, I gave him a small shrug. “I don’t know, he just asked if the seat was taken and I said he could have it, thinking another table might've needed it- but then he just sat down!”

Matty laughed loudly, a hand coming to rest on the tablecloth. “He fucking wanted you!”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes in retort.

“I’m not messing a-fucking-bout here!” Matty stated and I watched as he shoved his sunglasses up into his frizzing curls, “He was all over you just then, and when I walked in I honestly had to do a double take when I spotted the pair of you.”

I shook my head silently.

“Come on, even you have to admit that it was a bit strange of him to just sit at a table with a complete stranger, no?”

It had been. Very ballsy. “Doesn’t mean he liked me though.”

Matty rolled his eyes then with a huff. “You’re blind. I’m telling you right now, he fancied the fuck outta you.”

I chuckled quietly and was grateful to let the topic die when a waitress finally cropped up out of nowhere, taking the full brunt of Matty’s attention.

—

Lounging out on the deck had quickly become one of my most favourite pastimes.

Being out there was so peaceful, whether it was early morning or late evening. I was just enraptured by the landscape that surrounded us as well as the humid air.

It was a little while after lunch when I’d gotten a bit peckish and decided to make myself a bowl of ice-cream to bring outside with me.

I’d taken to lying out under the branches of a nearby peach tree, which liked to offer me shelter from the beaming sun. Sometimes I read, often times I just relaxed out there, listening to Matty move about the place, or play the old guitar we’d found upstairs. It was nice.

Today though, my plans had quickly been interrupted by an unprompted FaceTime call.

I grinned down at my screen as the call connected and caught sight of a familiar bearded man. “Ross!” I exclaimed happily, all too glad to see his face.

“Alright there, stranger?” Came Ross’s chuckled greeting and we seemed to just smile at one another for a long second. “Fucking hell you’ve really caught the sun!”

“Jealous much?”

“Of you being out there whilst I’m sat in this sweaty studio? Yes.” Ross replied with a gruff huff, “Still fuming you and twat-face jetted off before I could invite myself along.”

I giggled and flipped my camera around so that he could see what I was seeing. “Be home soon, only I’ll be forced to miss all this.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off. You know what you’re doing.” Ross drawled out unhappily, and when I returned to the screen I found him covering his eyes with a grumpy sort of frown.

“Ah Ross, I’m only messing! Wish you were here too. It’s proper gorgeous.”

“So you and Matty keep telling me.” He humphed, “What are you up to now anyway?”

“Currently just sat eating some ice-cream. Think Matt said he was headed for a shower.”

Ross hummed and I peered down at the phone with squinted eyes to see past the glare of the sun. I grinned when he mimicked me, getting up close and personal with the lens.

“You look good.” He told me when we finally pulled away, chuckling amongst ourselves.

“Yeah?” I answered, almost as way for something to say.

“Yeah, you always do. But you look happier is what I actually mean.”

I bit at my bottom lip and fiddled with the silver spoon I’d stolen from inside. “Feel it.” I said to him quietly, poking now at the melting ice-cream. “It’s different out here. No reminders of back home. Well, I say that then I’ll see Matty pop up.”

Ross snorted softly at that but nodded like he understood, which was something I typically loved about him.

“It suits you. The sun, the smiling.”

I couldn’t help my smile then and turned away to hide it.

“Leave off.” I muttered, gifting him a gentle laugh, one he mimicked. “How are you anyway? How’s the album going?”

“Oh- you mean the album that Matty just upped and deserted us with, that one?”

I huffed out an amused breath and nodded, allowing him to continue on.

“It’s… going, I guess. Mainly just focusing on our own parts as of now.” Then he went on to tell me about this new riff he’d since created with Adam, getting a little excited when he explained how it’d come about during a session together, and where they wanted to use it.

It was sweet to see, and I found that I missed him a bit more than I’d first anticipated.

Matty came and disturbed us a short while later, recounting all the details of our getaway if only to piss Ross off and then embarrassed me when he recalled our earlier encounter with Alvaro the previous day.

I’d left him with the phone and two fingers tossed his way when I swanned back inside to escape the heat- both literally and metaphorically. Listening to the laughter that echoed behind me.

—

I don’t really remember how it went down. Just that I actually had gone down. And hard.

Reckon I had a few violent bruises to prove it too, but I was far too out of it to really focus on that though.

The beeping was back again. Like a dull ache that haunted me. And so were the light whispers and hazing lights. The hand I felt in mine.

There’d been no floating this time around though. No peace. Just that pitch black darkness that I could hardly even recall now.

I must’ve come in and out of it a couple of times because I can remember random bits and pieces. Mostly Matty, his voice and worried face. But there were nurses again too, talks of medication and doctors… another uncomfortable mattress and itchy sheets.

This time though I blinked past the blur and fought to stay awake.

And with a furrowed brow I came to and I glanced about an empty hospital room, similar to the one from before but different somehow too.

People buzzed outside the door that’d been left ajar, talking in English but, Spanish as well? I remembered then that we were in Tenerife. That I was meant to be living it up on holiday, not stuck in another hospital ward.

“Oh! You’re awake.”

I startled at the sudden sound and immediately regretted snapping my head in the voice’s direction. I winced at the fiery ache I felt lick its way up my neck.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” A young woman said, holding a clipboard close to her chest. “I’ll just call your friend in. ¿Sí?”

I simply watched her leave without a reply. And Matty came bounding in only seconds later, looking worse for wear.

“All I asked for was one holiday! One week where nothing happens, and then you go and pull this!” He ranted as soon as he caught sight of me, practically skidding his way over to my bedside.

He was still wearing the clothes I’d last seen him in, jean shorts and the pale pink tee I’d bought him, so I took that to be a good sign.

“I mean, fuck. You scared the absolute shit out of me!” He continued, rubbing harshly at his tired face. “One second you were fine and the next-” He shook his head, “I don’t think I ever moved so fucking fast in my life.”

“Why?” I croaked out with a tiny smile, “Pull a muscle, grandad?”

Matty’s eyes sharpened when they turned to me, “Oh so you are well enough to have kept that shitty sense of humour.”

I wrinkled my nose, but allowed him to take my hand in his. He was putting on a bravado but seemed to have been really shaken by the whole thing.

“I’m sorry.” I murmured, coughing quietly to clear my throat and then forced myself to sit up a tad.

Those hard eyes narrowed and he shot me a well-deserving glare, “Don’t fucking apologise. Just don’t do it again, alright?”

I smiled and attempted to nod past the pounding in my head. “I’ll try. What even happened anyway?”

Matty sighed and kicked a wooden chair closer so that he could sit. I rolled my eyes, choosing to keep quiet about the fact that he could’ve just crawled in beside me.

“They said it must've been the heat at first.” And he fixed me with a challenging look, one that screamed 'I told you so', before he carried on, “But when I told ‘em about the crash and all that… they ran a couple more tests. Just to make sure.”

I hummed quietly, not commenting on his guilty glance. He had nothing to feel guilty for, he’d done what anyone would’ve.

“And then they were in and out of your room, said they didn’t sedate you or nothing but when you collapsed you hit your head pretty fucking hard, kept you knocked out for a while.”

“How long?” I frowned.

Matty huffed out a long breath as he thought it over.

“Near to an hour? You were awake a bit by the time I got you here, but then you passed out again.” He worked out, his fingers playing aimlessly with mine. “Was fucking shitting myself out in that waiting room and this nurse at the reception, barely spoke a word of English. So I spent the entire time wishing you were there to just talk to her and then cursing you out for pulling a stunt like this, again.”

The small chuckle I gave him hurt and so I didn’t apologise another time. Though I did feel guilty for the scare.

“Been out there waiting on you for two and half hours as well, and let me tell you now that their coffee is shite.” He grimaced, seemingly alright with taking lead of the conversation between us. “Tasted like watered down piss, I swear. And I hear I thought that the Spanish loved coffee!”

“Reckon you're thinking of Brazil.” I muttered to him, “Spain’s got Sangria, innit.”

“Ah, yeah probably.” Matty hummed, quiet then to allow the noisy flurry of the hospital outside to trail in.

“So when can I go?” I asked him and he looked over at me, those bags beneath his eyes were back but softened somehow by the glow the sun had gifted him.

“Not sure.” He shrugged, glancing over towards the door. “Could ask. They said they were just waiting on a couple more tests.”

“It’s alright, I can wait.”

Immediately Matty shook his head and went to stand, “No, I’ll go check. Shouldn’t be much longer, hey?”

He gave my hand a squeeze before he left, looking back at me from the doorway before he had the strength to round it. I let go of the sigh I’d been holding in.

Just my luck, I supposed. To be in sunny Spain and end up in hospital once again. I figured now that I’d been in more of them over the last few months than I had my entire life. And that was including the time I'd spent in one before my dad passed.

Toying with the bedding, I tried to recall what little I could of the day before I’d gone and collapsed.

We’d been on the phone to Ross, but then Matty had gotten bored and pestered me into tagging along with him to the beach. I remember the lemon icepop he bought me and the cone he'd gone and dropped into the sand when a bird had swooped too close.

We’d sat outside a cute little cafe for an early dinner, he’d finally caved and let himself have a glass of cava to pair with his paella, and I’d gotten the fish? No, the pisto. Matty had snorted at the name.

It had only been a short walk back to the villa after that and in return for having joined him, I made Matty piggyback me most of the way. He hadn’t stumbled as much as I thought he would, and when he had he blamed it one the wine. ‘Two glasses!’ I’d laughed at him in return.

When we’d gotten back I’d jumped in a quick shower whilst he hooked his laptop up to the flatscreen downstairs, claiming he wanted to rewatch a film. We fought over which one, but ultimately settled on Mamma Mia!, the first one of course.

It had happened just as we’d been getting ready to head up to bed. The long day had worn me out and I remembered feeling a tad bit dizzy when we’d been sprawled out on the couch, drifting slightly as ‘I Have a Dream’ played through the speakers. I can vaguely recall Matty nudging me with his foot, laughing tiredly as I swatted him away.

He’d gotten up first, wandered into the kitchen to grab some water before we headed up. I’d only just gotten to my feet when he’d returned and then nothing. I couldn’t tell you what’d happened.

But I must’ve fainted or something, just like Matty’d said. Because my skull now pounded, my body ached, and I was stuck in this shitty hospital room.

A light scuttle caught my attention in that next moment, it drew me from my thoughts altogether and I looked up, expecting to see Matty walk in.

But it wasn't, and so you can imagine my surprise when the last person I ever thought I'd see was stood there instead.

“Alright, Birdie?”

Part Twenty-one>

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dreamypqulson · 1 year

Text

— so let me hold you, and tell you how pretty you are

requested on wattpad: okay so basically cordelia has been in her office for like most days and the reader wants to help cordelia relax. so they go out like shopping or like watch a movie together or something like just pure fluff or sm

pairing: cordelia goode x reader

word count: 1800

It was getting nearly ridiculous; the long hours she spent in her office every single day. It wasn't always like this. Isn't always like this. But lately, it seems that you hardly get to see your girlfriend. Her hours go from before you wake up to after you're asleep. The only time you spend is the moments you bring her lunch, otherwise she would get completely lost in work and forget.

Even then, she didn't seem like herself. She seemed distracted, caught up, stressed. Her smile didn't glow like it usually did. You were concerned to say the least. This didn't occur often but it certainly was not the first time. When you first started dating, Cordelia had locked herself in her office for almost two weeks. At least it felt like she did. The only way you got her out is when she fully broke down and had no other choice.

You didn't want that to happen again. You couldn't let her fall apart like water in you hands. Knowing she's destroying her health yet letting it happen anyways.

After the fourth day of hardly seeing Cordelia, you've decided you had enough. You had to get going on your plan before the sunset. There had to be a way to get her, and you just possibly believed that you have a couple.

You made your way to her office. You took a deep inhale of breath, slowly exhaling it. You lifted your hand up to the white wooden door, it seemed to move further away from you the longer you stood there. There wasn't a need to be nervous; Cordelia would never hurt you in any way. Your shaky knocks sped up your heart rate. You knocked in a pattern that Cordelia knew was just yours.

"Come on in, darling," you heard from the other side. She sounded so soft, gentle, just as she always did. Nevertheless, her voice sounded strained. You turned the doorknob, a smile settling on your face before you were even revealed.

An all too well familiar lavender scent filled the air. You looked up at your favorite women in the chair, a glowing smile with cheeks tinted as pink as the setting sky being the first to captivate your eyes. No matter how stressed she was, she would never truly show it. If you didn't know her as well as you do, you wouldn't suspect a single thing wrong.

You walked towards her desk and around it. Her warm, lust filled eyes followed you the entire way. You sat on her lap, wrapped your arms around her neck. Her desk was scattered with paperwork and her laptop brightly gleamed back at you.

"I miss you," you say through a breath. She rested her chin on the top of your head and you were certain that you have her where you want her.

"I know, i'm sorry. I miss you too, so much, sunshine. I've just had a lot of work to do and the warlocks have been nagging me per usual." She harshly sighed, seeming entirely warn out.

"Then spend tonight with me? Please," you begged. You moved your head to look up at her, pleading with only your eyes. She bit down on her lip, contemplating. She wants to spend time with you, but would she be a terrible supreme to take a night off?

"I don't know. I have a lot of work," she finally said, hesitantly, like the words burned her throat to speak them. She twirled a strand of your hair through her fingers, not daring to look you in the eyes. She hated turning you down.

"Delia," you grabbed both of her hands, tightly holding them in yours, "you've been working for days now. I haven't even seen you or got to kiss you or anything. Can't you please give yourself a break? You are going to wallow away in here."

You lifted her left hand up to your lips and softly kissed it. Not another single word was exchanged. Silence consumed the room. You could truly see the wave of emotions crash over her face. So, she looked down at her lap so you couldn't read her.

"Come on, Delia," you leaned closer to her, "let me take care of you tonight, please?" You kissed the sensitive skin on her neck; right below her ear. She closed her eyes and you could feel the hitch of her breath with your body so close together.

"Alright," she finally said, simply, "okay, what are you planning in that pretty head of yours?"

"You'll see." You stood up and tugged her with you. Footsteps echoed in the large academy until they eventually reached the room that you share with your girlfriend.

The room was dim, candles and lamps illuminating it. The room was always fairly tranquil at night. Just you and Cordelia's space. Safe for the both of you to be so raw, and real, and vulnerable together.

You guided her into the bathroom, the same atmosphere following you both in. You adverted your eyes to wear she couldn't take hers off of. A gleaming smile rested on your face. "We are going to have an at home spa date. You really deserve it, honey."

The bathtub was filled with foggy white water; bath bombs and scented soap turning it translucent. Red rose petals floated atop of it. The lavender scent could reach you both from the door way. All of her favorite salts and oils mixed in with the steaming water.

“Oh, my sweet love, you didn't have to." You could tell that the simply action had deeply affect her. When being treated poorly is all she knows, small things feel major. Having you, feeling your love, holding onto that sense on serenity had completely altered her outlook on love and life.

She walked impossibly closer to you, holding your cheeks in her cold hands. She softly smiled at you, and with the significant height difference, leaned down to kiss you.

"Let's relax you now, shall we?" Quite visible goosebumps arose on her arms just at your words. She was curious as to where you were exactly going with this. Either way, she began undressing herself, following in your steps. Before she could even take her first item of clothing off, you grabbed her hands.

She looked up at you, already understanding what you were doing. She eventually dropped her arms down to her side, and you replaced your own where they once were on the hem of her shirt. She let out a content sigh when you tugged her shirt off and the cooling air hit her skin.

You reached behind her, unclasping her bra and letting her perky breasts fall. She sighed again, softly, and you kissed her freckled chest to show your love for every part of her.

You eventually made it down to her bottoms, tugging them off until you were both fully undressed. You grabbed her hand again, leading her towards the bathtub. You could feel her gaze lingering on your body but you just simply smirked.

You both carefully got into the tub, sitting directly in front of each other, face-to-face. Sitting criss-cross, you reached up to the light wooden table beside the bath. There had two glasses of red wine along with face masks and nail polish.

You had certainly prepared for tonight.

You handed her, her glass of wine, taking a sip from your own. "Thank you, my love," she said and smirked at you. It was clear that she truly felt good about herself whenever you randomly celebrated her.

You grabbed the jar filled with face mask paste in it and swiped your fingers inside. You lifted your hand up to her face and she leaned forward so you could reach better. She giggled as you smeared the cold mask on her cheek.

Pure heaven was all she could say to describe it. Not the mask, but this. Tonight, with just you. Something she had never experienced before falling in love with you. Her ex husband never did anything like this for her, would never do something like this. Either way, it wouldn’t be the same if he did. To Cordelia, are just so pure and beautiful, and he was just an aggressive man.

“That’s really cold,” she crinkled her nose but her smile didn’t seem to fade. It was clear that she enjoyed it.

“Well, doesn’t it feel nice? Maybe you should come out of your office more often,” you teased. It was out of pure love and concern.

She still rolled her eyes at you, but not unkindly. She knew you were right, but she just didn’t want to admit it. She despised admitting that she was wrong when it concerned her own health and safety. She cares more about you than herself.

“You are never going to let me live it down, will you?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the p. You finally finished applying the face mask to her face, so you began on yourself. You looked back up at her when you were done yourself. Her smile quickly got bigger, dopier.

“What,” you asked, bitting down your own smile.

“You’re just really cute.” She titled forward and kissed your lips again, pushing them out further as to not mess up the masks. You could still taste the vanilla chapstick on her lips, could taste the red wine and you didn’t know if it was from her or yourself.

When you finally pulled away, taking a deep breath so you didn’t lose it, you moved back and rested your back against the tub. You motioned your hands for her to lay against you. She did.

Her tired body rested against your front. Your fingers trailed to her hair to tangle through the damp blonde strands. She titled her head back, closer towards your fingertips. “Mmm,” she hummed.

You kissed her temple, eliciting a hum of content from her, who then began to gently scratch her short nails on your thigh. You lightly gasped at the contact and leaned back down when you got used to it.

“You’re so pretty,” you breathed out because you could just see her out of your peripheral vision and it just made you nearly lose your breath. You needed her to understand how you truly felt.

“Mm…not as pretty as you…”

“Don’t start, you are the prettiest in the entire world,” you scolded, but she could clearly hear the smile in your voice. You knew she would go all night until she got the last word. It made you feel giddy inside.

And as much as you wouldn’t mind hearing your love call you pretty all night, as anyone would, you just wanted to admire her tonight. You wanted to show her how pretty you can make her feel.

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blxckchxrrybxby · 1 year

Text

FaceTime: No Violets in November [Pt. 1]

summary: Wilhemina despises her birthday. Each year is a reminder of her inadequacies. However, this is the year that she deals with her demons head-on. (The intimate chaos of being in a relationship included).

pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Reader

warning(s): Cursing, perhaps.

a/n: @abeillesurlalunerose inspired the sweet tea part. Also, reader is she/they. More Mina in the next chapter. This was supposed to be a simple one shot, idk what happened.

wordcount: 3,581

“Ready, Babydoll?” Billie questioned as she sprayed herself in perfume—trying to get rid of the smell of smoke. Her hand delicately grasped yours and held it above your head; guiding you to spin, so the falling fragrance would cover as much of you as possible. You were never the floral type, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

“As ready as I’ll ever be...” You mumbled, trying to focus on not tripping over your own two feet. Billie smirked knowingly, watching your nose scrunch up from the last spritz of perfume. It was clear that you were trying to hold your breath so the overbearing scent wouldn’t choke you.

She let out a chuckle and decided to give your nose a quick peck, “Such a cutie, you are.” Your cheeks burned—causing you to shy away and no longer scrunch your nose. Holding eye contact was by far one of the hardest things to accomplish at the moment. Despite your obvious timidity, Billie absolutely loved when you became flustered. “Babydoll, you have no idea what being shy like this does to me.” She stated in a lower voice, bringing her hand up to caress your warm cheek; instantly igniting a fire in the pit of your belly.

You could feel the warmth radiating from her touch and basked in it. Her thumb grazed across your flushed cheek, gradually moving across textured skin and acne. Naturally, you’d fall insecure, but you knew how much she admired every last bit of you. Her gentle touches no longer frightened you.

“B-Billie…” You whimpered, trying to find your voice.

A wicked grin spread across her plump lips at your demeanor. “My, my... I could just eat you up, kitten. Would you like that?” No matter how much perfume she sprayed, you could still smell a hint of tobacco embedded in her fingertips. Your eyes lifted momentarily; catching the blonde’s gaze as she gently pushed your hips against the nearby wardrobe. Her lips immediately attached themselves to your neck, planting tender kisses along the fragile skin. You let out a whine, trying your best to contain the sounds within you begging for escape. You always figured her favor towards your vulnerability was a power move. Quite similar to Wilhemina’s—

Oh shit. Mina.

You cleared your throat, hoping it would help break you out of the sudden bashful spell. Time was ticking and it did not permit for this—no matter how badly you wanted it. “We should really get going. Delia’s probably waiting.” Billie nodded against your neck in agreeance and took a step back from you, but not before giving you a love bite.

“There. A purple accessory to go with your outfit.”

You rolled your eyes—hiding the fact that you absolutely loved the hickey—before you spoke again, “Oh, wait-” She arched an eyebrow at you as she put the perfume back into her purse. After shuffling through your pockets, you pulled out a pack of gum. Opening it, you slid out a stick and held it out for her, “-here.”

Her expression fell as she stared at you, “Darling, are you trying to tell me my breath stinks?” She frowned, cupping her hand in front of her face to blow into.

You immediately rolled your eyes at her accusation, “No, but if you don’t take it, Mina will.”

“Why would Venny want a stick of gum?” She asked with both eyebrows knitting together.

“Wha- No, Billie, I meant she’ll tell you that your breath stinks!” You giggled, elaborating on your statement.

A soft pink hue graced her cheeks as she caught on. “Ah,” Her manicured nails tapped against the side of her purse as she looked away and hid her face out of embarrassment. The humility made her crave a cigarette, “I suppose that’s more logical.”

Billie knew how much Wilhemina hated the smell of the cancer sticks and didn’t doubt for a second the truth you spoke. The last thing she needed was the redhead scolding her for smelling like a walking pack of Marlboro. With a huff, she took the minty offering from you. The silver-covered stick of gum danced between Billie’s fingers for a moment before she finally unwrapped it and slid the gum into her mouth.

After indulging in a piece yourself, you crumbled the wrapper and held your hand out for Billie’s. She stared at you; absentmindedly folding the wrapper as small as possible before placing it in the palm of your outstretched hand. It was a habit she did with not only gum wrappers, but napkins as well. You always wondered if the tendency to fold was something she had been taught growing up or if it was just one of her silly little quirks.

“Thank you, Kitten.” With a closed-mouth smile, you discarded of the trash and returned back by her side within a minute. She chuckled at your eagerness and walked out of the bedroom, “Come, before we’re late.”

You mentally rolled your eyes, finding it a bit ironic that the woman who was always ‘fashionably late’ to events was rushing you. Nonetheless, you followed her with confusion written all over your face as she led you to Madison’s room.

“Uh, Billie? Why are we in here?” You questioned, walking into the room once she pushed open the door.

Madison walked out of the bathroom and jumped, holding a towel tight against her body, “Fucking knock next time, blondie! What if my tits were out?!”

You smiled apologetically at the witch, “Sorry to barge in like this, Madison. I’m sure Zoe finds them amazing.”

The younger blonde glared as you beamed innocently.

Billie ignored the whole exchange and darted directly to Madison’s bed. “That’s rich.” Placing the palm of her hand on the mattress to aid with kneeling down, she continued, “Besides, Madison, you don’t have much to be worried about if—God forbid—anyone did see.” You held in a laugh and watched as the older woman reached under the bed—admiring the way her ass looked in the lilac dress.

Madison rolled her eyes and watched as you stared at Billie’s ass as if you were in a trance, “Perv.”

You scoffed, now looking at her, “She’s literally my girlfriend.”

She shrugged, grabbing a second towel to dry her hair, “I don’t care. Go be gay somewhere else.”

“I apologize.” You held your hands up in mock defense, “Next time, I’ll be sure to switch the gay off before entering.”

Sliding from under the bed with three presents in her arms, Billie stood up and flipped her hair—handing you one of the presents. “Alright, doll, let’s get going.”

You held the gift and nodded, shuffling out of the room as Billie led.

“You’re welcome!” Madison yelled out as the both of you giggled to yourselves whilst descending the staircase.

Approaching the coven’s library, you couldn’t help but ask, “Why were the presents in Madison’s room?”

Billie shrugged, “Delia thought it would be the perfect spot since Venny never goes in there.”

You nodded, “Okay, but why didn’t anyone let me know they were in there?”

She chuckled, “You ask far too many questions.”

“And you don’t answer enough of them.” You stated with a pout.

Billie stepped closer to you, smirking, “Babydoll, we love you, but you couldn’t hold water even if it was frozen.” Noticing the slight furrow of your eyebrows, she figured you didn’t understand what she meant. “Must I elaborate?”

“Hold water?”

“It means to keep a secret.” She paused and snorted, mumbling to herself, “God, am I getting old, or is it a southern thing?”

You shrugged, “I doubt it’s the southern thing. I usually understand about 95% of what you say.”

Her expression went blank, “Did you just call me… old?”

You blinked, taking a moment to process what just happened. Clearing your throat, you smiled innocently, “I think it’s time we go in, but I would like the record to show that I am great at keeping secrets! I haven’t even told anybody that you despise sweet tea-”

“Shh!” Her hand immediately covered your mouth. You ceased talking as she looked around as if someone was listening and whispered, “Don’t you ever say that out loud again.”

You nodded slowly at her dramatics as she removed her hand and adjusted the two gift bags on her arm. Biting your lip nervously, you turned towards the door to the library. Your fingertips fidgeted anxiously with the wrapping paper on the present. Billie winked at you and opened the door; letting you enter first while following close behind. Her right hand found the small of your back, slowly rubbing it to help ground you.

As bookshelf after bookshelf passed, you proceeded to walk toward the fireplace. The closer you got, the more Cordelia came into view. She sat in a chair, tapping away on her laptop.

“Please tell me you’re not still working right now,” Billie stated, unamused by the always-working Supreme.

Cordelia jumped—startled by Billie’s voice—and instantly closed her laptop, “Well, hello to you too.” She displayed a bashful smile, standing up to greet the both of you.

“Has Mina made it yet?” You asked in a hushed tone; in case the other woman was somewhere nearby.

Cordelia chuckled softly, “Not yet.” She removed the gift from your arms and wrapped you into a tight hug, “You look amazing, sweet girl.”

You smiled, feeling your face heat up, “Thank you, Delia.” With your face buried against her neck, you took a moment to bask in the smell of her chamomile shampoo and vanilla perfume before pulling back. “You look stunning by the way.”

She grinned in response—absentmindedly smoothing her hands down the front of her long, flowy skirt. “Really? I was hoping it wouldn’t be too much for Mina.”

Your eyes scanned the entirety of the Supreme, “She will love it. Trust me.”

After setting down the gift bags, Billie greeted Cordelia with a kiss and complimented her on today’s outfit selection, as well. You genuinely found the whole thing funny, considering all three of you were wearing purple. The idea was cute, but the execution was questionable. Honestly, it felt a bit… cultish.

You took a moment to look around; admiring the purple and silver decorations, along with the few drinks and snacks placed on the coffee table beside a bouquet of violets. Cordelia had truly outdone herself. It wasn’t so over the top that it would overwhelm Wilhemina, but it was enough to show effort and that alone would please her.

The only thing missing now, however, was Mina.

“I thought she would be here by now,” Billie muttered, looking at her watch, then at Delia.

“She would have been here if she didn’t request to work today,” Cordelia mumbled, adding her gift to the other three.

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving your gaze to the both of them, “I didn’t know you could request to work on a mandatory day off.”

“You can’t, babydoll.” Billie rolled her eyes while texting on her phone, “Venny is just so stubborn that she thinks she can do whatever she pleases.”

Delia hummed to herself, “And her bosses are a bit too…” She paused, thinking of the right word to use, “…intimidated to tell her otherwise.”

You smirked, “So they’re scared of her? And she’s working for them?”

“It appears so.” Cordelia chuckled.

As if on cue, Delia’s phone began to ring. Billie swiftly picked it up from the coffee table and grinned mischievously, seeing Mina’s picture. She answered it without hesitation.

“Where is she?” Mina growled, rushing through the halls of Kineros, as her cane tapped loudly.

You glanced at Delia with furrowed eyebrows; confused as to why Mina sounded so upset. She shrugged in response with the same expression of concern and confusion.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our Venny.” Billie stated, not at all phased by the redhead’s unnerved demeanor (and most likely using the camera to fix her curls).

“Billie Dean, I swear if this is one of your pranks-” Mina started, sounding beyond irritated.

“Wilhemina, it’s not ladylike to swear, honey,” Billie said in faux innocence.

“I am not in the mood, Howard.”

“You’re never in the mood, Venable.”

“She’s always in the mood for me.” You mumbled to yourself, picking at your nails.

“Stop it, you three.” Cordelia intruded, rolling her eyes at the bickering and somehow back on her laptop.

A moment of silence went by before Mina responded in a relieved tone, “Hello, little one.”

You bit your lip, looking up at the phone in Billie’s hand. Standing from the chair, you walked over and peeked a glance at your other lover from over Billie’s shoulder, “Hi, Mina. We’ve missed you.”

Delia shook her head, mumbling under her breath, “What am I, chopped liver?”

“At worst, you’re nothing short of a five-star Michelin steak.” Billie chimed in.

“How charming of you, Billie,” Cordelia responded with a chuckle.

“For God’s sake, give Y/N the phone if you’re going to socialize with Cordelia the whole time,” Mina stated in agitation.

“Well, someone needs to show our Supreme how cherished she is since you can’t seem to provide her with a simple hello. Where are your manners-” In the midst of Billie speaking, the call hung up. “Did she just-“

“Still no greeting,” Delia mumbled, typing away. Within a few seconds, a low buzz filled the room. Delia looked down—feeling her thigh vibrate. Seeing your phone light up with Mina’s contact picture, she smirked to herself and answered, “Hello there, Wilhemina.”

A soft chuckle could be heard on the other side of the phone, “Hello, Cordelia.”

“Playing phone tag, I see.”

“Unfortunately. It seems no one has their own phone.”

“Isn’t that a shame?” You chuckled, watching the Supreme pout in faux sorrow, “I assume you’re calling to speak with our sweet girl?”

Wilhemina smirked, “Perhaps it was you I wanted to speak with.”

Cordelia hummed to herself, “You know our communication is better done through action, my love. I’ll pass them the phone, hm?”

“Thank you.”

Billie rolled her eyes as you retrieved your cellular device and walked off to a less chaotic place to hold conversation. Cordelia arched an eyebrow and peered at Billie from above her laptop, “Now, why was she so upset to begin with?”

She shrugged, admiring her nails, “You know how Venny gets-”

“Billie,” Cordelia stated in a warning tone.

The Medium huffed and flipped her hair, “Calm down, Delia. I simply told her that Y/N was missing.”

“What?!”

“It got her attention, didn’t it?”

Cordelia shook her head and went back to typing, “You’ve got a few screws loose, Billie Dean.”

“The better for you to tighten, my dear.”

Cordelia looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, “Excuse me?”

Billie scoffed while grabbing her phone, then mumbled, “Now I know it’s definitely a southern thing.”

You sighed softly, leaning against a bookshelf, “So… how’s work?”

Her expression noticeably softened at your words, “I know you’re upset, little one.”

“And why would I be upset?” You asked—knowing full and well that you were seething on the inside from her deciding to go to work and not tell you.

“Are the others-”

“I walked away.”

With a deep inhale, she gathered her excuse, “I apologize, I was needed at work-”

“You were needed at home.” You stated with confidence.

“Y/N-”

“How naïve do you think I am? I expect you home within the next hour, Wilhemina.”

You took a moment to take in her features. Everything about her screamed ‘apathetic business woman’ but all you could see was the child in her. The fearful being that was dreading another year of life and despising the idea of celebrating it even more. You knew this was why she had fled the coven and chose to hide within the confinements of her office. She didn’t need another reminder of her age increasing and health declining. However, last year she had promised you growth, and what better way to bring in her new age, than with the first step of change?

No more running away.

“Happy birthday, my love,” Cordelia celebrated softly as she placed a tender kiss against Wilhemina’s cheek; handing her the last present. It was the same present you insisted on covering in violet wrapping paper—much like the others. “Enjoy. This one’s from an anonymous source.”

Wilhemina’s eyebrows furrowed at Delia’s words as her gaze met with the witch’s. What anonymous source could she possibly be referring to? She had already opened a gift from each of her lovers. Delia laid her hand on Mina’s—which happened to be resting on the unopened gift—and gave it a loving squeeze. As if to say, just trust me.

Every year, Wilhemina made it clear that she preferred to ignore the day the universe cursed her with life—however—with three girlfriends who loved her immensely, it was nearly impossible. Although dreaded by Mina, November 11th was a day worth celebrating.

Cordelia perched herself on the armrest of the La-Z-Boy Billie gifted Mina the year prior and absentmindedly ran her fingers through her lover’s red hair. Wilhemina huffed under her breath and began to unwrap the gift; taking her time with precision.

“One of these years, I’d like to actually receive what I ask for.” The redhead grumbled.

Billie rolled her eyes, “Get over it, Venny. We’re not going a year without celebrating you.” Taking a sip of her cider, she smirked, “Besides, it’s a fun way to torture you.”

Once the gift was uncovered, she placed the paper aside and opened the large, rectangular box; revealing one of the most beautiful canes she had ever seen.

You bit your lip nervously and glanced at Cordelia. You had begged her to give Mina your gift; knowing if she found out her ‘little one’ spent so much money on her, she’d pitch a fit. Cordelia continued to stroke Mina’s hair as her gaze remained fixated on the cane. No words left the woman’s mouth. It was as if she were frozen.

You knew your bottom lip was bound to become raw from how much you were currently gnawing on it, “Do you like it?”

Your words snapped her out of the flashback she was currently trapped in.

Taking a moment to swallow down the aftertaste of inadequacy with the apple cider Cordelia made, her piercing gaze hesitantly met yours. “Little one. Tell me you didn’t.”

You fidgeted with your blouse anxiously, “What do you mean?”

She sat up the best she could, frowning, “Did you buy-”

“I said it was anonymous, Mina. Leave it at that.” Delia stated as she interrupted. “Now, who wants pie?”

“Me, please.” You stated, ready to change the subject. Glancing over at Mina, her gaze remained fixated on the cane in front of her.

“Leave my slice on the table, won’t you, darling?” Billie asked, standing up, “I need a smoke.”

Delia agreed, but shook her head disapprovingly, “Fine, but you need to ease off the nicotine.”

Looking through her purse for a cigarette, the Medium pointed a finger, “Don’t. Tonight is a good night and we’ve already talked about this.”

Delia frowned, “I know, but I get worried, Billie.” She sat the plates down on the coffee table as Billie walked up to her and pulled her over to the side.

While grasping her waist and pulling her flush against her body, Billie began, “Hey…” She spoke softly, easing a few golden strands behind the Supreme’s ear, “You never have to worry about me.”

“I know, but-”

“But?”

Cordelia took a moment to find her words then replied in a hushed tone, “That’s easier said than done. I practically watch you inhale your fate every time you go out on that balcony.” Billie frowned at her statement, but let her continue, “And don’t think that I don’t know about you sharing those cancer sticks with Y/N.”

Her eyes widened as she bit her bottom lip nervously, “Have you told-”

“No, but if she finds out, you’re dead along with the rest of the coven that knows.”

Billie arched an eyebrow, “Who was it that told you?”

“I’m not telling you that, Billie Dean.”

The Medium peered, adamant about knowing who told her business, “Coco? Queenie?”

“Billie-”

“Madison? Nan?”

Cordelia sighed, “Nan.”

You smiled, walking over to Mina. Kneeling in front of her, you placed both hands atop hers. She jumped slightly, bringing her attention to you. “Are you alright, Mina?”

She inhaled slowly to control her breathing. Something you had noticed she would do if she didn’t want to draw in attention to her emotions, “Of course, Little one.”

You tilted your head, “I know you, Mina. Something is wrong. Do you not like your presents?”

“It’s not that.” Her fingers caressed the palm of your hand to not only ground you, but herself.

“Is it the pie? I thought you detested cake.”

“I do.”

“Then… what’s wrong?”

Her fingers intertwined with yours as a soft smile appeared on her lips. With a gentle squeeze of your hands, she spoke quieter than usual, “Not now.”

You could hear the waver of her voice. A few decibels louder and the dam of emotions would erupt. “I understand.” You accepted her decision and forced a smile. “Would you like some pie?”

Her fingers withdrew from yours and moved through your hair. “I’d much rather prefer you instead.”

#sarah paulson imagine #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean x reader #ahs coven #sarah paulson #wilhemina venable x cordelia goode #wilhemina venable x billie dean howard #Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode #Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x reader #Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable

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stayevildarling · 1 month

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Wilhemina Venable x Cordelia Goode x Reader- I miss you, I'm sorry

A/N: I got inspired by listening to the song ,,I miss you, I'm sorry'' by Gracie Abrams and this is the result 🤷‍♀️

word count: 7k

tw: sad, breakup, happy ending

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00, @ninaahs , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

It was simple really, so simple, yet today had tested you in ways you hadn't been tested before. Finally deciding to do something useful with your weekend off, you decided to head to the markets, maybe even strolling through some shops. Despite wanting to mope and bury yourself inside your apartment, not doing much other than staring at the ceiling or maybe doing some reading. A lilac candle, that's all it took, that same shade of lilac bringing you back to everything you know, bringing you back to them.

Them- you aren't sure how you would describe them to someone, maybe the sun and the moon? maybe soft glances shared, eyes locking and a steady but safe hand on your thigh at all times. Maybe yellow and purple? you aren't sure. And despite it having been so long now, you still remember everything, the way their touches felt on your skin, the way their voices sounded, the way their lips would feel on your own. Cordelia and Mina. Supreme to the academy, HR to a very important company. Your former girlfriends.

It's like everywhere you go it brings you back to them, a building looking a little too familiar to the coven, a colour reminding you a little too much of them. And today a simple lilac candle was enough, strolling through the markets, trying to have a good time and do some forgetting, instead you are pulled back into the past. With trembling hands and tear stained eyes, you make your way back to the nearest bus stop, cutting some corners to get there quicker as the last thing you currently want is embarassing yourself in public like this, despite not a lot of people caring either way, too busy with their own lives.

And then just like that, faith decides to have different plans for you, bumping into a stranger and landing on the floor as a result, quickly blinking some tears away as you open your eyes. However, the person in front of you was definitely no stranger. As soon as your eyes land on their legs, exposing the long flowy pants and those all too familiar shoes, you know exactly who is standing in front of you. Cordelia. You find her brown eyes locking with your own, staring at you, both in shock, sadness, concern and at last love. ,,Y/N'' she surprisingly gasps, blinking away the shock. ,,Here let me help'' she tries, holding out her hand to you. For a second you have no desire of taking it, but the temptation for even the smallest chance to feel her soft hand again too strong.

Quickly you compose yourself, clearing your throat and trying very hard to ignore the lump in your throat and the way your eyes were about to betray you. You can't help it, taking in her all to familiar features, the soft blonde slightly curled hair, that sweater you adore with the flowers on. However she looks tired, your Delia often looked tired, especially on the weekends after a busy week in the academy, looking after her girls and all the responsibilities on her shoulders. There was something else about the little bags under her eyes and the absence of that sparkle in her brown orbs. ,,I'm so sorry'' you practically blurt out, her eyebrows knitting in confusion at your statement.

,,For um- bumping into you'' you quickly compose yourself. She nods then, her lip doing that little thinking thing she would always do. There is a painful silence, not an awkward one, painful, neither of you being able to find the right words. ,,So - how have you been sweetheart?'' she asks, her eyes searching yours and that's enough. The simple pet name sending waves of heartache and pain all over you, making your heart physically hurt at the damage she just caused. ,,Fine, how about you?'' you quickly reply, wanting to escape this situation as soon as possible. She pauses then for a moment, thinking back to the last year without you. ,,It's been hard'' she truthfully tells you and it takes you by surprise, thinking she wouldn't be honest in this moment.

,,I'm sorry to hear that'' you quickly announce, glancing towards the bus stop to check the time table and hoping it would show up any moment so you could leave. But there is no bus in sight, the timetable too far away for your eyes to be able to read it. ,,How's.. how's Mina?'' you ask, absentmindedly almost. And that's when it hits Cordelia, that same heartache and pain crashing over her features. The way you said her name with such ease, sending moments through her head, little flashbacks of when you used to call your other girlfriend just that. ,,She-'' Cordelia pauses then, unsure what to say, the last year having been a lot of things but easy. ,,She's fine'' the supreme eventually explains, unsure how to explain a year worth of events to you just like that. You simply nod, that being all the confirmation you needed.

,,Y/N I-'' she begins and by the way her voice shakes you know exactly what she is about to do. ,,Delia please don't'' you try, tilting your head a little as you search her eyes. You don't want her to say those words, as she or rather they had said them before. You don't want to go back to that place of heartbreak. ,,I really need to get going, my bus is about to get here'' you compose yourself, tensing your shoulders a little to make your statement any more believable. ,,Y/N I- We miss you, I'm sorry'' she almost whispers the words and your eyes close then, having to force them close in order not to cry in front of her in the middle of the busy streets.

She notices, of course she does, Cordelia always noticed absolutely everything, and she frowns then, feeling bad but she couldn't stop herself, having not seen you in so long and undeniably missing you. It had been hard on all of them, the witches at the coven- who eventually became your friends and family. Wilhemina- the thought of her little one not being around killing her. And so you stand there, surrounded by the busy streets, cars zooming past you, your bus long having left, the sun slowly setting, tears streaming down your eyes, your breath hitching and chin wobbling. The blonde watches in silence, in pain, feeling terrible to open up those wounds again, a part of her wishing she never said those words.

There had always been something about your connection to Cordelia, the quiet love, the silent one where neither of you needed to have big conversations in order to bring your feelings across. And despite it being a year, there is something so painful about seeing her like this. You had often thought about it, maybe bumping into them again, maybe in the summer both of them strolling around the markets, maybe in December, running the annual errands for Christmas at the coven. And each time those thoughts crossed your mind, you saw them happy, healthy almost glowing as they walked beside each other hand in hand. But seeing her so tired and vulnerable and honest caused all that strength and stubbornness about showing your feelings in front of her to fade.

,,Y/N I'm so sorry'' she tries, reaching out to wipe your tears but she stops herself just in time, knowing she has no right to do that anymore, often ridding you of your tears in the past. ,,It's fine Cordelia'' you finally manage to muster up, angrily wiping your tears and stopping your pathetic cries. You take a step back, putting a distance between you two, wanting to go so badly, knowing you had been right here before.

,,I should really get going now'' you announce, averting her gaze and glancing towards the bus stop, sighing in frustration as you notice the last one had left. Of course Cordelia knew, being the supreme and all and so her eyes draw you back towards her. ,,Can I take you home please?'' she almost whispers, biting her lip to hide her own anxiety, despite her voice betraying her. Instinctively, you take another step back, shaking your head no. ,,I don't want you to be stranded here in the dark'' she argues back, her voice soft despite the circumstances. And then it dawns on you, how long the two of you had actually been standing there, despite not a lot of words being exchanged, how you left for the market in the afternoon and it being incredibly late now. You could easily walk, despite that taking about an hour for sure, possibly even calling an uber despite that being expensive and you not being the richest.

The exhaustion from seeing her again, crashes down on you like a tidal wave, drowning you in fatigue and sleepiness. Fighting back a yawn, you meet her eyes, blinking away the exhaustion. ,,Come on, I'm just parked around here'' she tries again and sometimes you hated her stubbornness but you could never say no to her- not your Delia and so without having much of a say, your legs take over and follow the woman, catching a sense of the all too familiar perfume and scent of honey and vanilla- home. Sensing your exhaustion, she opens the door to her car for you, offering to buckle you in but you quickly refused, that definitely being too much and bringing too many memories and flashbacks back.

And so with no words exchanged, she begins driving aimlessly at first until you tell her the address. Her phone must have automatically connected to her car as the screen lights up and an all too familiar song begins playing softly in the background. ,,Landslide'' by Fleetwood Mac. And even that is enough to send aches towards your heart again. The car ride is silent and part of you can't believe you are back in that place. Back in that same car, the same little air freshener you had purchased for her almost two years ago. It's a Yankee candle one, vanilla as it reminded you of her and a part of you wonders in your tired state, why she had kept it as the smell had long given up, needing replacement.

But then just like by some magical force, fate again gives you the answers to your question as the screen lights up, Wilhemina's number on the screen, her name and the contact photo with you, Cordelia and Wilhemina. You remember that day well, the day after your birthday when Delia bought you a little polaroid camera with some films and how for that entire day you went around the academy, collecting glimpses of your favourite places and people, eventually snapping one of the three of you, despite Wilhemina's protests. And then it dawns on you, she hadn't forgotten about you, she hadn't even moved on to begin with. Her face meets yours, quickly declining the phone call, knowing this would be too much for you, hearing her voice again. She plays it cool, humming along to the song as if nothing happened. As if that call and the evidence of the photo didn't just betray her like that. And confirming her statement when she said things had been hard.

It takes about thirty seconds for the screen to light up again and given that you are still a good ten minutes from your apartment, you simply look at her and mutter ,,You can answer it''. She hesitates at first but knowing Wilhemina's impatience and the fact she had said she would only pop out for about an hour to get some things and it now being late and leaving Wilhemina with the academy and all the witches, she answers. ,,Hi honey'' she speaks softly as if nothing is happening as if their shared ex- you- isn't sitting in her car right now. And for some reason that angers you, realistically what do you expect her to say?

,,Is everything alright?'' her voice finally rings through the speaker. And for some reason that breaks you even more, you had missed Cordelia in every way you could miss a person over the last year but Wilhemina? her safe comforting presence? her sternness and the way she would look out for you? you had missed that equally as much. They said forever back then and you almost bought it, you even miss fighting in your old bedroom, breaking dishes when Mina was disappointed and then it dawns on you- you still love them.

,,Yes I'm fine darling, just taking care of something before heading home'' Delia announces, pulling you away from the heartache and back into the present. And for some reason you just wanna blurt into the speaker, ask Cordelia to take you home- truly your home and not the apartment you had been staying at for the past year as your home was them, the academy with your family. ,,Okay be safe'' her voice rings through the car again before the call disconnects. Neither of you speak, the remainder of the drive deadly silent as all you want to do is collapse on your bed and cry yourself to sleep, unsure whether sleep would even be an option tonight. And at the same time, you never want the drive to end, feeling an odd amount of content being with her again, despite it all.

,,It's just here'' you announce, pointing towards the building and as she stops the car, you sigh before collecting your bag and opening the door. ,,Th- Thank you'' you mutter out before exiting her car, not even looking back anymore before practically running inside, banging your apartment door shut and collapsing onto your bed. Her car remains outside of your building for a while, wanting nothing more than to run after you but she needed to get home, despite home not feeling very much like it without you.

The pain is unbearable as you sob heavily into your pillow, her scent somehow still lingering in the air, her voice and words repeating over and over again in your head. You are still confused and you had been for a year, about what had actually happened and you try very hard to convince yourself that this was better, that you are better without them. But the but's are too loud in your mind right now, reminding you of all the reasons you love them, of all the reasons you should go back to them.

Your relationship with Wilhemina and Cordelia started almost fairytale like, you had known both women from the academy, living there for several years after figuring out something about you had always been a little odd and stumbling over the academy in your mid twenties. You had always known Cordelia as the supreme and headmistress, before eventually Wilhemina joined as the supremes helper and secretary, you believed at first. However, it quickly dawned on you that they shared more than that. And you were almost disappointed then, always thinking you and the blonde had some sort of connection. But quickly you learnt their shared interest towards you, Wilhemina chatting unusual much with you and wanting to learn about things from your life. Cordelia unusually interested in helping you with your witch craft, despite having the hang of it by then.

And then slowly it turned into a little more, their eyes following your every move, their hands often lingering on yours, the pet names, the invitations just to have dinner with them rather than everyone else, the walks in the garden with Cordelia, the evening tea dates by the fireplace with Wilhemina. And so slowly they opened their private and sacred little life to you, welcoming you in it without question, never questioning the age gap, never questioning the fact it's one more person than most people allow in a relationship. The matching piece as if you had always been there. But somewhere along the lines, throughout the months slowly turning into years, something wasn't working. In the end they had changed, Wilhemina often very agitated, always having a sterner and colder side but taking it out on you more, almost becoming a little physical with you as the last argument involved her throwing around some dishes in frustration.

Cordelia had surprisingly changed too, the academy always being a priority to her but in that time, she never left her office, often you and Mina tried to coax her out of it but she wouldn't leave, often just spending the nights in her office, leaving the loneliness with you and Wilhemina and also the arguments. You felt like you invaded their perfect life and after some more arguments and harsh words you decided to leave, not wanting to intrude on them anymore, not wanting to be intimidated by their love they have for each other anymore. You doubted your decision so many times, from being so happy with them, your life perfect and having all you ever wanted, to being continuously sick to your stomach with heartache and misery.

As the pain and memories continue to drown you in it's intensity, the supreme had made her way to the academy, finding a worried Mina, noticing her change of demeanour and how tired her shoulder looked as she finally made it back to their bedroom. ,,Honey?'' the redhead tried and then it equally poured out of the blonde, telling her about the encounter with you, causing you to cry, how much she misses you and how bad she feels for driving you away. Wilhemina watches in pain as Cordelia sobs into her shoulder, the mere mention of you, causing that same pained expression on Wilhemina's face it had for a year. And so in full circle the night comes to an end, taking the three of you back to the only thing you know- your relationship.

As Cordelia awakens the next morning, confusion washes over her features finding the usual occupied spot next to her empty, shuffling a little before she feels a pounding headache, causing her to fall back on her pillow, probably due to the crying the night prior. Meanwhile Wilhemina has been up early, not being able to sleep a wink, the memories of you keeping her awake during the night. And then when the morning sun finally filtered through the bedroom, she had decided to take matters into her own hands. And with now trembling hands, she finds herself outside of your apartment. Despite not being a witch, the redhead had her ways of finding out things, never having been at your new adress before and if Cordelia knew the lengths her girlfriend went through to find you, she would be left crying again, instead of the headache causing her to fall back to sleep.

The knocking slowly brings your consciousness back, away from sleep that eventually came, despite being broken. At first you thought it was a dream but as the knocking continues, you slowly rise from bed, almost stumbling and falling over your own feet, before making it to your door and opening it, your mind still asleep almost. As you suddenly take in the glimpse of her, you feel like dreaming, not having seen her for an entire year. And just like Cordelia, she looked tired, the little bags under her eyes all the evidence and by her posture and grip on her cane, you can tell she was nervous. You don't say anything, simply taking in her features, your mind convinced this was just a dream and some trick your mind was playing on you. But you enjoyed it nevertheless, taking in the outfit plastered in lilac, her brown eyes piercing right through you and her mere presence causing for your heart to ache.

,,Mi-na'' you whisper, not even aware of how long you had been standing there or that your eyes are again pouring with tears. ,,Y/N'' she speaks softly, her hand twitching as all she wants to do is wipe your tears, wipe your pain and take you into her arms. ,,May I speak with you?'' she tries softly and as if you are suddenly awaken, you welcome her inside, very grateful that your place was spotless. As you walk towards your living room, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the little mirror in your hallway, quickly adjusting your hair that was still messy from sleep and angrily wiping your tears. And then as she takes a seat across from you, it suddenly dawns on you this was no dream, the same perfume and sense of lavender lingering in the air. ,,Would you like some water? or tea?'' you ask politely but she is quick to decline with a head shake.

Silence follows and while the redhead internally scolds herself for not thinking this through properly and trying to find the right words for while she is actually there, sitting in your apartment, you are drowned in flashbacks. The painful ones, the last ones with them. It had been some hard weeks, the coven under the careful inspection of the council due to some incidents with some younger witches, Wilhemina in especially bad pains due to her back. They didn't appreciate you at the time, simply acting as if you are another witch at the academy, not realising how much you actually made their lives better. And then one thing led to another and the three of you drifted apart, every day ending up in arguments, fights, the worst one when Wilhemina on an especially bad day lost her temper in a bad way with you, the two of you in the kitchen, you pushing her a little too much about her pains and how maybe she needed to see a doctor. Her really not in the mindset to even think or talk about it and eventually taking her anger out on you and the dishes in the kitchen. And when Cordelia practically ran downstairs, it was too late, tears filled in your vision, that face that they both never forgot. That face when you gave up, all the good memories of meeting them, of belonging with them, replaced with bad ones. And despite their efforts, it all fell down and you slipped their grasp.

,,Cordelia mentioned seeing you yesterday'' she finally speaks as she clears her throat. Bringing you right back into the present, the flashbacks slowly fading from your mind.

And you knew how much how she hated this. How Wilhemina really wasn't one to have these kind of conversations and you can't help but wanting to make it easier for her. ,,Is she okay?'' you question, concern lingering on your features, wondering why Mina showed up so early on your doorstep as you catch a glimpse of the clock on your living room wall.

,,She-'' the redhead hesitates then, averting your gaze and glancing out the window.

,,She- We miss you'' she confesses, her statement taking you by surprise.

,,I miss you too Mina'' you confess, a small but painful smile creeping it's way onto your features.

That was enough for her, the simply nickname causing for her heart to ache, eyes to close as she holds back the pain. ,,I'm sorry'' you whisper, tears swelling up in your eyes again as suddenly a wave of regret washes over you. Regret for leaving, for not trying again, for never going back.

,,Would you come back to the academy with me?'' she suddenly asks, again taking you by surprise. ,,We would like to talk to you'' she carries on, noticing your hesitation at first and wanting to confirm her intentions.

And the redhead is unaware that you would have said yes already, despite unsure what she was implying. After seeing them again, all you want to do is lay in their arms. All you want to do is forget about everything and move on with them but you also know it wasn't that easy. And so in response, you simply stare at her, unable to actually bring any words out as your heart simply aches. Your silence worries the redhead, unsure if she made a mistake coming here, opening the old wounds again. However Wilhemina never let you go like that, she had observed quietly from a distance, keeping in touch with some girls from the academy on how you had been doing, where you had moved and what you had been doing in the past year. Wilhemina was stubborn but the true reason for letting you go was she felt like you deserved better, better than her outbursts, better than either of them too busy or stressed to appreciate you. But after hearing Cordelia's words and seeing your state, she doubts whether that was a good idea and whether maybe just maybe she, they, would be better for you.

And as silence continues, she sits there, unsure whether to just leave you alone, whether to just take you into her arms. Her brown eyes meet yours again as your gaze is focused somewhere on a wall, staring into nothingness. ,,I'm sorry Y/N'' is all she whispers before balancing on her cane and walking towards the door, misreading your silence. And then within seconds the door closes and you let her slip away, not running after her, not begging for her forgiveness, not saying yes and and coming back with her. You simply sit in silence, before darkness consumes you and a mixture of sleep and a breakdown washes over you, drowning you.

By the time you wake up, Wilhemina had long ago made her way back to the academy, of course not mentioning any of this to Cordelia. The redhead had a hard time coping with rejection and she couldn't tell her blonde girlfriend how she had gone to see you, not wanting to get her hopes up. The rest of the day Wilhemina spends in silence, sitting at her desk, staring at the little photo frame of the three of you that you had purchased for her for one of her birthdays and she never took it down, occasionally shoving it into her desk drawer when Cordelia would ask about it a little too many times. And as dawn begins breaking over the city, the sky filled with little stars, you suddenly find yourself outside those very familiar black iron gates and an all too familiar white building.

Somehow you woke from your state and your feet took you straight there, without even changing your clothes, without taking anything with you. You had ran, for hours, aimlessly through the rain, through the city until your heart guided you to where you wanted to be. And so, half drenched and out of breath, you stand in front of the front door, contemplating whether to actually knock, your confidence suddenly knocked from you, similar to the breath knocked from your lungs as you gasp for breaths. What if they are busy? What if they aren't even in? What if they didn't want to see you? However your thoughts are drawn out, when Cordelia noticed a presence by the door, just having finished cleaning the kitchen after dinner and her supreme senses alerting her of a presence.

Without a care in the world, she opens the door, exposing you there, your eyes staring at her as you still struggle to catch your breath, your hair and clothes dripping from the pouring rain. ,,Y/N?'' she almost gasps, expecting anyone but you. She had longed for this so long, for you to finally come back to them, after the countless attempts of her calling, texting you, even trying to find your location through her magic within the past year, eventually giving up, thinking they had driven you away. ,,Are you okay sweetheart?'' she questions, her head tiling to the side a little, as she frowns at your state.

,,May I come in?'' you begin, finally having the ability to breathe properly again. ,,That's if- um- you aren't busy'' you ramble on before your own anxiety betrays you ,,I guess- you know- I can come back another time'' you hastily stumble over your words, heart beating loudly against your chest as you think over your decision of coming here. As if your heart had somehow led you there and only now your brain kicking in and telling you this was a mistake and to run.

,,No- please sweetheart, come on in'' she invites, with a gentle warm smile, making all the worries melt away.

And so you step inside, following her as she leads you through the white hallway, past the kitchen and dining room, reminding you of all the times you had cooked together, all the times you had shared meals together. Past the living room, where you catch a glimpse of the sofa and fireplace, your safe space where the three of you spent many evenings and weekends together, in the comfortable embrace of each other. Eventually, she leads you up the stairs, halting in front of Wilhemina's office before she turns back to you.

,,Did you come here to see us? or did you want to talk to me?'' she tries, still thinking Wilhemina and you hadn't seen each other since the year before and worrying what your reaction would be like seeing each other.

,,Both of you'' you quickly explain, a little confused as to why Wilhemina wouldn't have mentioned seeing you this morning. She nods, before gently knocking on the redheads office door, waiting for a faint reply.

,,Come in'' she announces and you stand awkwardly behind Cordelia as she opens the door.

,,Darling, Y/N is here to see us'' she explains, scanning the redheads features, unsure how Wilhemina would react. But to her surprise, Wilhemina's features soften, almost relief painting her face as she sees the frame of you behind the supreme.

Cordelia steps aside, allowing you to enter and so you enter, standing a little awkwardly in her office as a shiver runs down your spine. As soon as Wilhemina's eyes fall on you, you feel embarassed. Your cheeks coated in red, standing there soaked and still a little out of breath.

,,Please, take a seat sweetheart'' Cordelia invites you, pointing towards one of the chairs, opposite the redhead and you comply, grateful to get a chance to sit after wandering through the city aimlessly for hours.

Cordelia notices your shivering form and without a word, she walks to a corner before reaching for a blanket and handing it to you. Your eyes meet hers and you take it with shaky hands, averting your gaze as you wrap it around yourself. ,,How do you two feel about some tea?'' she asks and Wilhemina simply nods gratefully, you simply agreeing as well as the supreme leaves you both for a minute.

The room fills with silence as every corner of this house feels it's haunted, every piece of furniture, every room reminding you of your time at the academy, reminding you of your time with your former girlfriends and the memories you had made with them. And when Wilhemina clears her throat, you suddenly shiver in your chair, pulled back into the present. ,,I- I'm sorry to just show up like this'' you apologise, finding the courage to meet the redheads gaze on you.

,,Nonsense Y/N, you are always welcome here- this is your home'' she suddenly blurts out, her own confusion written over her features as if some invisible force took over and made her say the words, lingering on her mind.

Her statement both surprises you and shoots a pang of guilt straight towards your heart. Silence follows as you glance around her office, noticing that not a lot had changed, other than some new plants, that you assume Cordelia had gotten for her. And when your eyes linger on her desk, you recognise the picture frame, wondering whether the same picture was still in it or whether she had replaced it with one of just her and Cordelia. Thinking of the blonde, she enters the room with a little tray, pot of tea and three cups placed neatly on it. With a smile she begins pouring the three of you and handing you a warm mug, the steam forming patterns as you wrap your hands around it, soaking in the warmth.

After she takes a seat next to you, you somehow feel obligated to speak, explain what you are doing here but your words leave you as you struggle to explain. Cordelia ever perceptive, notices the way neither you or her girlfriend share that same painful first meeting after the breakup experience and she can't help but wonder when the two of you had met again, before it suddenly dawns on her, how Wilhemina had been gone this morning, mysteriously showing up again some time later and hiding in her office all day, not even showing up for dinner with the girls, despite the supreme's best efforts. And when the realisation hits of how Wilhemina had reached out to see you, after breaking down in her arms the night before, it almost brings tears to her eyes.

Cordelia and Wilhemina's eyes meet as they take in your quiet form, your eyes focused on the cup of tea, the two of them deciding without words who would speak first, knowing this must be hard on you and the redheads eyes practically begging the blonde to do this part. And with a nod, the supreme begins to speak ,,I'm- We are so glad you are here'' she reassures as she meets your gaze, your eyes locking with her brown ones. A small smile creeps its way onto your features, slowly giving you the confidence to speak.

,,I'm honestly not sure what I'm doing here'' you admit with a nervous chuckle before glancing at Wilhemina. ,,But after seeing you both again, I just ended up here somehow'' you admit.

,,I'm sorry for the way things went this morning'' you apologise to Wilhemina and then she meets her girlfriends gaze, silently apologising for not filling her in on the events but she is met with nothing but understanding from the blonde.

,,I shouldn't have come by unannounced like that'' the redhead admits, slowly taking a sip from her cup, before gently placing it on her desk. ,,I'm sorry little one'' she adds quietly.

And that's enough, enough to make you falter, pour your heart out in front of them, as the words pour from your mouth, tears equally pouring down your cheeks.

,,I haven't been able to think about anything else other than you two in this past year, I'm sorry for leaving, I'm sorry for not coming back home and I miss you both so much, I'm sorry'' you apologise over and over again.

Their hearts equally break at your statement, Cordelia having missed her little sunshine so much, Wilhemina having missed her little one equally as much, if not even more over the past year.

,,Everything I know brings me back to us, Everywhere I go it leads me back to you'' you admit, almost guiltily as you try and wipe your tears, despite them keep pouring.

,,Sweetheart'' Cordelia finally speaks ,,We have missed you so much'' she explains, Wilhemina's serious expression confirming the blondes statement, making it all the more believable.

And then her hands find yours as she gently places your cup on the desk, taking both of your hands into her own. ,,I owe you an apology'' she begins, tears already lingering in her brown orbs. ,,I didn't make enough time for you.. both'' she admits, glancing at Wilhemina as well.

,,I should have never let the academy get between us three'' she finishes, tears now flowing down her cheeks and for some reason you feel the urge to wipe them away but something holds you back.

,,I- I should have reached out to you more, tried to get you to come back to us but at the time I thought it was for the best but in these last few months I have missed you so much. This is your home, you belong here'' she explains, squeezing your hands a little tighter to underline the honesty in her statement.

Wilhemina watches in silence, waiting for Cordelia to finish her apology. She takes a deep breath, her hand gripping tighter around her cane before she speaks ,,I'm sorry too little one''. And that's all she can say for the time being, but you know it came from her heart as those words must have already taken a lot. And so in silence, the three of you sit, the only sound to be heard the silence of the academy and occassional shuffling from some witches downstairs. And with their questioning gazes, you know the question lingering on their minds, but somehow a sense of doubt washes over you, filled with some anxiety. Right now, you can't imagine simply going back to how things were and a part of you doubts that could ever happen again, you worry about your dynamics and how it might have changed even between them in the past year.

,,I don't know what you want sweetheart, but we will always be right here for you'' she reassures and with that statement she makes you doubt again, whether to just falter, forget about the past and move on with them.

And then some invisible force takes over again as exhaustion from the past two days suddenly hit you, causing you to go incredibly quiet and with knowing glances the two of them remember quite well what you are like, whenever you are tired. ,,Are you tired sweetie?'' Cordelia tries and you try and snap yourself out of the sleepiness, blinking some of it away, causing their heart to swell up with love as they see you so tired and adorable. ,,Um yeah'' you shily admit, before Cordelia gives you a little smile.

,,Why don't you stay the night?'' she offers but your heart instantly sinks at her offer. ,,Your old room is still free'' she admits and it swells your heart when you hear they kept it for all these years, despite eventually sharing Cordelia's bedroom with them. And in the blink of an eye, the blonde takes you to your old room, leaving you some warm and dry clothes on the bed, before bringing you some water and leaving you to rest. And after changing, you finally collapse on your bed, unable to think much more about the past or current events and sleep knocks you out gently, guiding you towards dreams softly.

After a while, the two of them settle into bed as well, Cordelia glancing at her girlfriend before whispering ,,What do you think?'' her own anxiety betraying her a little bit. ,,I'm just glad our little one is home where she belongs'' the redhead replies, before pressing a kiss to the supremes forehead and sleep equally greeting them.

It's the middle of the night when you finally wake up from sleep, confused at first at the familiar but unfamiliar surroundings at the same time. Slowly memories from the previous night fill your mind and after blinking the sleep away, you sit up in bed, wrapping the blanket a little closer around you as you notice the change of clothes and Cordelia's soft smell lingering on the clothes she had given you. Glancing around your old bedroom, you notice how empty it was, considering you took all of your belongings to their bedroom in the end, however you notice a stack of something on the desk in the corner and your curiosity gets a hold of you. With slow and gentle steps you walk towards it, the little lamp in the corner that Cordelia had kept on for you, providing you with some light. On the desk you find a stack of letters, neatly wrapped in a purple ribbon and you can't help but take a seat and slowly remove the ribbon before opening some letters.

And with the first one your eyes are already lingering with tears, recognising Wilhemina's handwriting.

,,Dear little one,

Today it's Christmas, our first one without you. As you probably know, I'm not big on these things but seeing Cordelia so sad today, made me miss you even more. I hope that wherever you are, you are happier now, celebrating Christmas with people that love and cherish you. Who are grateful for all the little things you do, who love the little things about you. Your adorable smile, how shy you can be at times but realising how big your heart truly is. It pained me, not being able to see your face light up today when everyone unwrapped their presents, missing how truly grateful you are for whatever you are given. It's almost been a year and not a day goes by where I don't miss you, where Cordelia doesn't cry, where I hate myself for driving you away. I miss you little one, I'm sorry.

Mina''

And with each letter, each confession, tears pour from your eyes, eventually turning into sobs, despite trying to contain them. You knew Wilhemina was never big on words but seeing her emotions so raw and honest touches you deeply. And suddenly you feel the urge to run to them, to hug them, to apologise and to love them again. You already loved them of course, you had never stopped but you needed to tell them, needed to forget about everything that happened and simply move on with them. And this time, nothing holds you back as you make your way past the hallway, not caring about the time as you find yourself outside of their bedroom. And again fate decides to help you out, as both of them had woken a while ago, Cordelia laying in silence as thoughts fill her mind, trying to figure out what to do and how to fix this, Wilhemina equally awake, finding it strange to have you so close, yet so far away. And they both heard shuffling, your door opening and slow but hushed steps walking towards their door before stopping.

At first Cordelia had thought, it may be one of the girls simply going to the bathroom but seeing a little shadow from underneath the door, she is quickly up on her feet, ready to investigate. Wilhemina equally behind her as she suddenly felt the urge to check on you. And so as the door opens, it all comes full circle, the light from the hallway exposing your crying form, a look filled with guilt, longing on your features. ,,Little one are you okay?'' Wilhemina questions quietly, standing behind the supreme but you don't say anything, simply lunging forward and taking the blonde into your arms, holding onto her for dear life as if she was going to slip away again at any moment. Wilhemina watches in silence as the two of you basically collapse into each other's arms, crying into each other and healing. But you feel the urge to pull away, standing in front of Wilhemina with tears in your eyes, your gaze meeting hers.

,,Mina I-'' you try but she is quick to shush you ,,Come here'' she ushers and you quickly comply, holding onto the redhead. And as the night continues, the three of you eventually find yourself truly where you belong, in their bed, you sitting in the middle, both of them next to you while you hold onto each other. Slowly admitting everything to each other, apologising and confessing all the mistakes and your love for each other.

,,We love you little one'' Wilhemina confesses as her lips slowly draw towards yours and capture you in a kiss. And as her lips softly land on your own, you taste tears, but not just your own, for one of the rare times, the redhead sharing her emotions, grateful to have you back with them. ,,We won't ever let you slip away again sweetie, I promise'' Cordelia reassures after the two of you pull away, needing oxygen, as she snuggles into your side. And eventually, everything goes back to normal, the three of you laying in each other's arms. And despite the future unknown a little, a lot of conversation still needing to be held, for now you all know that you have missed each other and you are sorry.

#sarah paulson #cordelia goode #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #ahs coven #wilhemina venable x reader

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