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#this movie has me in its clutches and its nOT LETTING GO!!!!!!!!!!!

wyvernest · 10 months

Note

oh??my??god??? “midnight cravings” was so good! i’m foaming at the mouth 😩

would you be able to write something about how the reader has never been able to have an orgasm with another person and miguel hears this and changes that 🫣

go easy on me

part 2

pairing: miguel o'hara x afab!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, established relationship, vaginal fingering, sexual tension

The movie you put on is nearing its end. The lights dance over the walls of the dimly lit bedroom, flashing across your tired eyes. You hadn't even registered Miguel turning the volume down halfway.

It's not the first time he's come to visit. Ever since you two have started dating, he has made increasingly more time among his duties and responsibilities to swing by your place, whether to eat dinner, to watch a movie, or just sit and talk about everything and anything.

At some point along the movie, you had cuddled up against his side, head propped on his shoulder, internally surprised at how comfortable it was despite the rigid muscles that adorned his body. The only problems were the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach, the way your heart flipped every time he even did as little as readjust his weight on the bed or sigh, in fearful yet giddy hopes that he'd maybe, just maybe, initiate something you're otherwise not bold enough to start.

Suddenly, the movie gets to a low-lit scene, and you make out Miguel's features in the screen's reflection. The contour of his face, the width of his shoulders on the headboard in comparison to your frame, gathered up by his side. And the moment you make out his eyes, it's too late.

He's staring right back at you, but you were too distracted to notice.

Dark, red-shaded eyes, outlined by thick eyebrows, daggers deepening the look on his face.

Maybe he's just lost in thought? Zoned out?

All those suppositions fly out the window faster than your breath when the corners of his mouth curl into a smirk, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. You feel unprepared for whatever he's making out to be the rest of the night in his head.

Nobody's watching whatever's left of the movie anymore.

The hand holding you by his side tightens around your shoulders, and just for a flash of a second you guess that it was all in your head. He wasn't plotting anything, he's just the sweet and caring Miguel you've known for so long, smiling kindly at you and making sure you're comfortable and close to him. All until his other hand travels to your thigh, his whole body shifting so that he sits on his side, all his attention focused on you alone.

Tilting your head up, you meet his gaze. You find it hard to pinpoint the feelings plastered on his face. Affection? Lust? Hesitancy? He's wordlessly asking you for permission to proceed.

His palm moves up, grip stronger and firmer. Your hands naturally find his chest, and you don't quite remember when you've hiked up a leg over his, letting his hand reach the mound of your soft ass, squeezing and groping.

You don't get much time to bask in the pure happiness and excitement of being inches away from his face, eye to eye, breath to breath, before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. The kiss is gentle and tender, he tastes you like you're a goddess and he's only ever allowed to kiss you once in a whole lifetime. He cradles your body close to his, allowing himself to indulge in the delicate feeling of your soft skin, parting from your lips and kissing your face wherever he can reach, so lovingly, so carefully, having you melt against him.

You mindlessly let a moan echo in your throat, at which he retracts, as if being presented an undoubtedly green light. He pulls you impossibly close, both hands clutching at the small of your waist. His mouth drops to your neck, growing impatient and needy. He bites down, fangs stinging into your skin before he licks and pecks at the red marks, soothingly. Your breathing fails to keep up with his ministrations, your heart threatening to burst right out of your chest.

You choke on a whimper when you feel the extensive shape of his vigorous thigh push upwards between your parted legs, applying dangerous pressure right on your still clothed clit.

"Miguel." you call breathlessly, the name placed upon a questioning tone.

He stops.

"Mi vida."

"I need to tell you something."

He looks up at you from your chest, almost reverentially. There's a reassurance in his pleading, immensely compassionate eyes that can't possibly be put into words. So you confess. You tell him about your lack of experience, how nobody's brought you to the very heights of ecstasy before. He ponders the information, calculating. His attention darts momentarily between his surroundings, you and your flushed lips.

"You want me to be the first?", he's almost afraid you'll deny him. Not that he wouldn't back off the moment he sensed any sign of discom from you, but he can't deny that he had dreamed of giving you pleasure you haven't felt in your entire life. To have you twist and turn in his arms, writhe and whimper from the intensity of both your feelings and the things he could do to you.

You smile sweetly, certain of the answer.

"I want you to be the last, too."

That's all it takes. In a mere second, he's all over you, clawing and kissing every patch of skin he manages to expose. He travels down to the sides of your waist, sinking his fangs into the tender flesh without puncturing the skin, sending jolts of adrenaline and need pulsing through you. You squirm into his arms, feeling downright devoured. Spread wide open, at his disposal, liquid ready to mould into whatever vessel he offers with his embrace.

He drags your panties down your legs in one swift motion, crawling over your frame and dwarfing you in his shadow. You feel his strong, expert hand make its way down between your legs, parting your lips and rubbing in soft, circular motions.

"You're soaked" he mumbles into your ear, his breaths hot and heavy on your neck. You manage to sob briefly, too overwhelmed to speak.

He pushes a finger into your cunt, swelling with pride when feeling how wet you had gotten for him. You moan at the stretch, as the heat of the heel of his palm digs into your core. You whimper, and he kisses you, swallowing his whispered name.

You liquefy into his embrace, allowing him to add a second finger. He's testing the perimeter, playing and experimenting with angles, watching your reactions intently. He suddenly hits a rough spot that had you bucking your hips, and he flashes you a smug smile, fangs on display. He repeats the motion, rolling his hand into your pelvis, and you can't do anything but grab onto his muscled arm and quicken your already laboured breaths. He starts giving attention to your clit in tandem, rubbing the heel of his palm into the sensitive bud.

You watch the mesmerising way his arm flexes with every movement, every thrust of his thick fingers into your drenched cunt.

Soon enough you feel the unmistakable coil start to form into your lower abdomen, legs tense and face contorted from the pleasure.

"That's it. Dios mío, you're so beautiful when you're about to come.", his voice is low and breathless, echoing into your lust-addled brain and then straight down to your cunt. You reach your peak, gushing on his hand, pulsing around his fingers.

He holds you to his chest while you ride out your high, watching the way your lips struggle to form coherent words that aren't his name.

As your breathing returns to normal, he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, and you mentally swear you could die right then and there.

It's all so intimate, gentle, and romantic until–

"Can't wait to feel you pulse like that around my cock."

a/n: hope this is what you wanted<3

#atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x y/n

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alexgrin · 4 months

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To be honest, that moment in the movie killed me. I want to throw my au with the Creek and: Bra: Guys, we can't forget about Floyd. JD: Look, Branch is right. We're here for Floyd. Let's just get this and we can go our separate ways. Cl: Fine! Bra: Wait… What? JD: What? Mission's the mission.[chuckles] Cr: Wait… Are you serious now? JD: You didn't think we'd all live together, when this was all over did you? Bra: Oh, I'm sorry!..Is that funny to you? Cr: Branch, please, calm down… Bra: That I might want us to actually be a family again? Bru: Don't be a baby, Branch. (Branch wants to answer, but Creek answered first) Cr: Or what?! * I'm fed up with this. If the Branch closes again because of them, I won't be able to bring it back…* You were the first to behave childishly, leaving him alone. Cl: N-no… We left him with Grandma. Bra: Em… Floyd left me with Grandma, not you… Cr: Speaking of her, you didn't even ask the Branch how your grandma was doing. After your grandmother's death, Branch lived completely alone, deep underground, not wanting to see sunlight. Why did his boyfriend have to pull him out of depression, and not his family? Aren't you ashamed? (Everyone is in shock) JD: We… We didn't know. Branch it is true?.. (Branch looks away, clutching its childish drawing. Creek takes her boyfriend's hand). Cr: Are you blind? His color has returned, but there are still gray shades. (Silence) Cr: [Sighs] *Сalm down, Creek* If you think you're better than me or Branch… Believe me, no… You are real bastards… [Drooping gaze] Bra: What a fool… [sad laugh] (Squeezed his hand tighter)

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stvharrngton · 1 year

Note

Hi! I'd like to humbly request 122 and 126 pretty please with a cherry on top 🖤

here it is anon! i hope you enjoy lmk what you think 💗

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, car sex, crotch riding, cursing, unprotected sex etc etc

prompt: 122. “this feels dirty.” “that’s because it is” and 126. “what has you so excited?” from this list (x)

taglist: @sweetiestevie

(if anyone wants to be added to the taglist please just let me know! <3)

The low hum of the movie playing through the radio filled the car, the lights from the drive in illuminated your features. You were situated on Steve’s lap in the driver’s side of the BMW, one strap of your dress pulled down your shoulder, Steve’s large palms on the flesh of your ass.

Your lips were moving against each other, the kiss hot and wet, tongues swirling together languidly. You rolled your hips gently, whining into Steve’s mouth as the rough of his denim pressed into your clothed core just right. Bringing his hand up to cup your tits over the material of your dress, groping the flesh greedily.

Steve broke the kiss, his lips flying to your neck. Fingers moving to grip your hips, hands rocking your body back and forth over his crotch.

“This feels dirty.” You breathed, the windows of the car steaming up as the movie you came to see was long forgotten.

“That’s because it is.” The boy chuckled against your skin. Breath hot on your neck.

You hands found purchase on the boy’s firm chest, bracing yourself as you rocked back and forth in his lap. Breathy moans quietly leaving your lips at the feeling, the seam of his jeans brushing against your clit in just the right way.

“What if someone sees us?” The question came out as a whine, eyes constantly scanning the windows for other movie-goers passing by.

“Baby,” Steve hushed you, “everyone’s either watching the movie or doing the exact same thing as us. Trust me.” His lips reattached to your neck as his large palm cupped your cheek.

Steve’s other arm snaked around your waist until his hand delved under the hem of your dress, fingers gripping the flesh of your ass. The boy groaned below you, your cunt pressing into his stiff cock with every roll of your hips.

“Fuck,” Steve mewled, eyes fixated on the growing wet patch you were leaving on his jeans, “what has you so excited?”

You squeaked above the boy, your clit throbbing beneath the pretty pink lace of your underwear, begging to be touched. Fingers running down your body to reach under your dress, pulling your panties to the side so your bare pussy could rub against his jeans.

“You, Stevie.”

You moaned loudly at the new sensation, the rough denim rubbing against your clit. The feeling going straight to the coil in your lower stomach, the sweet twist and pull of pleasure making its way through your body.

“Shit, baby— that feel good, yeah?” His gaze glued to how your hips rolled over him, his fingers coming to rub lazy circles on your swollen clit.

“Yes, so good,” you whined. Your hands clutching Steve’s shoulders so you could fuck yourself up onto where his fingers rubbed at you.

Usually, you’d be embarrassed at how needy, how desperate you were being. But you felt too good, too hot to care. Too close to your orgasm and Steve had barely touched you, wholly content at getting yourself off on his clothed crotch.

“Can’t believe, shit- that we’re fucking at a drive-in.” You moaned between breathy laughs, head rolling back in pleasure as Steve pressed his thumb into your clit.

“You’re the one that jumped my bones, babe,” Steve chortled, his cock aching beneath his jeans.

“Uh, no, Steve. You’re the one that stuck your tongue down my throat, remember?” Eyebrows furrowing at the boy’s forgetfulness, your hips beginning to still.

Steve tsked at you, “Can you blame me?” he asked rhetorically, “When I show up to your house to pick you up and you skip out the door in this little thing?” He asked, his hand coming to pull the material of your dress away from your tits.

You groaned as he mouthed at your chest, your fingers tangling in his messy hair. His hands coming to grip your ass again, pushing and pulling at your hips to slide your wet pussy over his bulge.

“Steve,” you whined.

“Hm?” he cooed, “Don’t act like you don’t love it, honey. I know you do.”

Steve had you riled up just right. The way he was pulling you into him, the low rasp of his voice, the way his lips felt hot on your skin; all going straight to your cunt. Your slick coating your thighs, leaking onto his jeans.

“You wanna sit on my cock, baby, hm? Know you’ll ride it so good, even with all these people about.”

You gawked at his statement, your pussy fluttering at the thought of fucking Steve is such a public setting. Your thighs clenched, cheeks flushing a pretty pink under the dull illumination of the movie and the lights surrounding you.

“Yes, God, Steve, fuck—“

“Tell me,” he cut you off, “tell me how bad you want it.”

A low whine left your lips, hips struggling against the boy’s grip. Steve’s large palm came down on the flesh of your ass, the sound rippling throughout the car as he groaned at your stubbornness.

“Come on, sweet girl, tell me,” his finger and thumb pinching your chin, turning your jaw for you to look at him, his big brown eyes turned dark, glazed over with lust, “tell me how much you wanna make a mess on my big cock.”

You mewled above him, lips formed in a pout as you told him, “Want it so bad, Stevie, want your big cock buried inside me.”

The boy groaned, eyes squeezed shut as your tone dripped with need and desire. His fingers fumbled with his belt and zipper, you lifted your hips enough so he could pull his jeans down a little. His cock slapping against the material of his polo.

You watched through hazy eyes as Steve spat in his palm, hand wrapping around his cock as he pumped himself a few times. You angled your hips so he could line himself up with your entrance, but not before he dipped his fingers into your cunt, curling them just right.

Before you could even think about cursing out the boy’s name, he removed his fingers and slapped his hand against your pussy. A sweet whimper tumbling past your lips.

Steve chuckled at your reaction, a slight mocking about him. His cock pushed into you, your hips sinking down onto him inch by inch until he was completely buried in you. You both moaned into the air of the car, the movie and people outside long forgotten about.

You winced at the stretch, the thick girth of Steve’s cock filling you up to the hilt. Slowly beginning to move your hips, dragging your wet cunt along his length, Steve groaned below you, hands gripping the swell of your ass so tight. Fingers sure to leave pretty lavender bruises in the morning.

Steve looked so pretty like this. Hair a little wild, messy strands pushed back by his hands. Lips so plump and pink, parted to let out raspy groans. His eyes glassy and glazed over with a need so carnal, yet so full of fond for his girl.

You moved a little faster now, hips snapping forward as hard as they would allow in the small space. The tip of Steve’s cock brushing against that spot deep inside so well, so achingly well. The tingling in your stomach telling you you were close already.

“Pussy feels so fuckin’ good, baby,” Steve groaned, hands holding your waist now, “fuck.”

Arms snaking around his neck, fingers tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck, you leaned into Steve. You bounced your hips, ass slapping against his thighs every time you sank down on his cock.

“Oh, fucking Christ.” He moaned, a sweet sound that was music to your ears. His eyelashes fluttering as his eyes rolled back in pleasure, the boy burying his face in your neck, your sweet perfume overcoming his senses.

“Love this cock, Stevie,” you whined, ass still bouncing deliciously, Steve’s cock covered with your slick, “love being so full ‘f you.”

“Baby,” he cooed, “‘m gonna cum if you keep talkin’ like that.”

“Yeah?” you giggled a little breathlessly, Steve still so deep inside as your fingers wandered down your body, coming to rub at your clit again.

“Yeah,” he breathed, eyes following the route of your fingers, “fuck, baby— I need you to cum first though, yeah?”

You hummed at his words, fingers moving faster over yourself, your soaked pussy still gliding over Steve’s length.

“Yeah, Steve, wanna cum,” you moaned, “please? Please can I cum?”

Your ministrations became frantic now, fingers rubbing harshly at your clit. Your walls clenching around Steve’s cock tightly, your thighs tensing.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “yeah, cum for me, sweet girl.” His hands gripping your hips to move you over him still.

Back arching, your chest pressing into Steve’s face. The coil inside you snapping, a harsh wave of pleasure rolling throughout your body. Vision white hot as your body shook, chants of Steve’s name rolling off your tongue like a song.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s my girl. Such a good girl f’me.”

You whimpered now as Steve took over, not even giving you a second to get over your orgasm. His cock fucking up into you like lightening, the boy chasing his own orgasm desperately.

“‘m gonna cum, fuckfuckfuck.” He groaned sweetly, his hot breath fanning across your neck as you held onto his shoulders for dear life. His movements jostling you in his lap, his stomach tensed as his hips never relented, his cock spurting ropes of hot cum up into you.

Steve whined into your skin, the pretty noise muffled by your neck. His chest heaved, the boy breathing sighs of relief as his body relaxed, hushed whispers of praise and your name escaped his lips.

You both basked in your post orgasm haze, his hands stroking up and down your back soothingly. Steve’s lips pressing soft wet kisses into your temple and cheek. Your fingers carding through his soft locks the way you knew he liked after sex.

“You know,” he started, a breathy chuckle escaping him, “I actually really wanted to see this movie.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #k.fic #request

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quartz420 · 4 months

Text

Kitties

Choso x reader Synopsis: Choso brings a cat home to readers apartment despite not knowing what a cat is.... ☆Reader has no gender, y/n is used, total fluff, established relationship ☆words: 828 ☆(Note: needed some fluff for him, because my man deserve it🙏🙏)

The smell of tea enters the air as you pour in a cup for yourself, the calm atmosphere being the perfect one for a rainy Saturday evening. You take a sip from the cup while scrolling on your phone, enjoying the moment. That was until there was an unexpected knock on the door; you shift your attention towards it, asking yourself who could knock at these late hours. You strolled your way to the front door of your apartment, opening the door to reveal none other than your half-curse boyfriend. Choso stood there, his ponytails slightly drooping because of the rain but he held something small in his large hands. He gently clutched a soggy kitten, its black fur sticking to the tiny body. It looked fragile but the meow it let out was impressive for something of this size. “Hey Cho, where did you find that?”

You shifted aside so he could enter the apartment, his wet boots leaving traces in front of the house mat. He shuffled his way out of said boots while responding: “This creature was outside; I do not know why I even brought it with me.” You gave him a puzzled expression for his choice of words; did he perhaps not know what a cat was? You guided him to the couch while you to tell him to stay put, you were going to get a towel to dry off the poor kitten. After a few minutes u came back with a towel and some canned tuna, just in case it happened to be hungry.

He still looked confused, looking at the animal like it was a mythical creature. He lifted his hands and brought it closer to him to examine it, you sat next to him and glanced at his actions. “Y/n, what is this thing?” Your suspicions were confirmed, your boyfriend didn’t know what a cat was. That would’ve explained his actions towards the tiny thing. You let a let out a small laugh, taking the cat out of his hands. You gently patted it, trying to dry it off; Choso curiously stared at you. He was still confused about the whole ordeal, but more specifically at what it was. Until you finally answered his question.

“It’s a cat Cho; it’s like a small animal that most people have as pets. They tend to be a bit anti-social sometimes but they are great company if you befriend one.” He carefully listened to your words, still trying to make sense of it all. By that time, the cat was almost fully dry and was eating the tuna in an intense manner; the poor animal probably hadn’t eaten in a few days. “Do you intent to keep it?” he questioned as he still stared at the kitten. His glance was filled with curiosity and a bit of admiration towards it, which made your heart flutter a bit. “I can’t really return it outside, so yeah I’ll keep it.”

“It reminds me of you a bit y/n, it looks adorable.” You turn you head towards him, not expecting this to come out of his mouth. A bashful smile crept its way onto your face, your cheeks feeling a bit warmer than usual. “So what about a name, you should give him one.” You try to shift his focus to the cat instead of your flustered state. Choso looks at it for a few moments until he finally answered: “We should call it earthworm.”

A long silence followed. Your internal thoughts tried to make sense of this odd name, what would possess him to call it that. Until it finally clicked. “Isn’t that the movie Yuji showed you a few days ago?”

“Yes it is and liked the movies a lot.” Well that explains a lot. Knowing your boyfriends stubborn nature, you didn’t even try fighting this weird name. It was a bit heartwarming to know that his brother influenced this odd choice, it showed he cared about him a lot. You two spend the entire evening watching movies while cuddling with the newly named kitten, Earthworm. Next week Choso happened to bring another cat home, this time a totally gray one. The same process happened: You cleaned and fed the cat. This time you named it, calling it Garu. You pointed out the similarities between your boyfriend and the cartoon character, he wasn’t particularly happy with this choice but he let you be.

Your limit was hit when the following week, when Choso held another cat in his hands while standing at your door. The kitten purring while leaning into his palm. You sighed in desperation: “Cho, you can’t keep bringing cats into my apartment. I already have two and you got three at yours, don’t you think this is a little much?” The tall man pouted a bit while gently caressing the kitty. “I felt bad for it…” You chuckled while slowly shaking your head.

“Well I hope Shoko likes cats then.”

#choso x reader #choso kamo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk choso #quartz writes

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januaryembrs · 1 year

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LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO | Steven Grant x Reader [1]

description: Steven finds his life slowly turning upside down when the man in the mirror starts talking back, he's sleepwalking all the way to the Alps, and the woman he's besotted with from work finds herself more caught up in all of it than he'd ever wanted. [Last Night in Soho inspired]

word count: 11.1k

trigger warnings: gore, blood, swearing, reader has a dark past that will be explored more read at discretion, third person & no use of Y/N, death, reader will become an avatar eventually,

main masterlist | series masterlist

Authors note: I have been in love with this show since I watched it and have finally started the fic I’ve been wanting to since it came out! The chapters are going to be long and readers backstory is dark but this is a piece very personal to me and I hope you enjoy!!!

She felt someone picking up her limp body. The museum lights had long since been shut off, but through the darkness of the exhibition she caught a tall figure standing over her. Her lids were heavy, vision bleary, yet she blinked a few times to try and straighten her mind that still felt like it was pulsing stiffly in her tight skull. Her voice was no better, the only sound she could let out was a guttural whine as the stranger pressed hard on the three deep lacerations on her abdomen that were now gushing blood like a scene from a 90s slasher movie.

They were broad, blocking out the minimal slither of light as they crouched over her and seemed to be yelling something. Probably scolding her for getting copious amounts of thick blood over the freshly mopped floors, she thought numbly. The sound came to her in something akin to static, a muffled string of nonsense. All she knew was they were talking loud and fast. Or maybe she had a concussion too? That thing had thrown her through that glass wall pretty hard.

She couldn’t see a mouth moving, nor could she actually see their face, just two beams of white blinking down at her.

This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening for real. She thought maybe someone had slipped something in her drink when she was at the club, but that was two days ago. There would be no reason for her to be feeling the effects only just now. And when she had been jumped on by one of those things she’d sure as hell felt it. She'd seen it with her own two eyes the way her clothes had been ripped as something plunged its claws deep into her, heard the air whoosh out her lungs as it hurled her through the partition wall.

She’d felt, still felt, the open wound seeping so harshly that she knew it was going to be fatal.

There was no coming back from whatever fever dream this was.

She blinked again up at the mystery guy who seemed to be holding her heavy head gently, but the hot, red wetness on his hands that smeared on her cheek said he also knew how fucked she was. He was muttering something, was there someone else here? Oh god, where was Steven?

“Stev-” Came her broken murmur, but the metallic taste crawling its way up her throat cut her off as a blob of viscid blood rolled down her chin.

“He’s here, he’s okay. It’s gonna be okay,” Said the voice back to her, his grasp on her hair tightening as she garbled. The breath, life, was leaving her now. Every time she tried to get air into her lungs, she was met with more of the thick liquid spraying into her mouth, her chest retching for oxygen.

She didn’t have long left, she realised numbly.

The room was blackening round the edges even more now, sped up by the way she felt her hands grabbing his arm in a panic. She’d thought she would welcome the cold hands of Death, it wasn’t a stranger in her home. Death rooted himself in her very soul, and yet as it dragged her under consciousness, she couldn’t help but feel like a scared little girl and she tried to cling onto the mystery figure as if he could keep her from Death’s greedy clutches.

It was sweet poetry, knowing she was drowning from the inside out. She had always known her biggest monster lay within her, in her every cell, festering and rotting her, since the moment she was born. There was really no other perfect way to sum up her whole life than it ending this way, choking on her own body. Grabbing onto a stranger, trying to plead for help as a few precious tears wet her face and she realised she was crying. Scared, vulnerable to her own demise like she had always known she would be.

How do you fight off a monster coming from within? You don't. You can’t. So she didn’t.

No amount of soft words or desperate touches on the figure helped her, it only made the departure messier, a bigger pool of blood for them to find her in.

The world felt surprisingly calm the moment she was snatched ruthlessly into Death’s open arms.

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

“Come the fuck on, Steven” Cursing under her breath, she cradled the two disposable cups of coffee tightly, her rosewood coloured lipstick surrounding only one of the lids. The London air whipped her coat around her shins, frigid and unwelcoming as it was even on a good day.

As per usual, Steven was late for work. The two of them had an agreement to meet each other outside the museum every Wednesday and Thursday, which meant his lateness slid in her own time. She could of course just meet the undoubtedly dishevelled man inside, but what kind of a friend would she be then? Leave him to face Donna’s wrath on his own? No, if he was in for a bollocking then so were she.

Friends didn’t exactly come easy to her nowadays, either. So if waiting in the bitterness for another five minutes meant she could keep this one, then so be it.

She had even taken the time on her commute to work to grab him a drink, the thin, black ink on the sticker reading: LATTE, + CARAMEL, -XTRA ESPRESSO SHOT, -XTRA HOT. she had banked on him being late despite the fact she had left him three messages this morning asking if he was awake (he wasn’t) and called him last night before bed to remind him not to sleep in.

A minute or so before she would have figured he was just calling in sick today, she caught sight of a slouched figure dashing off the bus, the grey knitted cardigan belonging to only one person his age in London. His thatch of messy black curls were a next dead give away, as well as the bags under his eyes that never seemed to budge even if he were to sleep two days in a row. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile at the way he seemed to apologise to a flock of pigeons he nearly trampled on in his haste up the many steps leading to their workplace.

“Donna’s going to serve our heads on sticks to scare away rude customers, you know that right?” She said, handing him his drink, now lukewarm, as he nearly crashed into her own body.

“Thanks, Dove,” He said absently as the two of them headed quickly to the entrance, “Yep, I’m aware I’ve buggered us. Bloody weird dreams again,” Steven shook his head as if to rid himself of the odd thoughts. “Sorry though, love. You must be freezing,”

She was freezing, but the way he was quick to worry over her warmed her insides more than she’d care to admit. The nickname crafted just for her, the bird symbolising ‘Quiet innocence’ in Ancient Egypt, as Steven had once told her. Sure enough, the endearing term had stuck quickly, and it warmed her to know she had a special enough place in his life to have a pet name.

It was plain to see just by looking at the twenty-five year old she was smitten with her co-worker. No sane person stands outside in Brittain’s April winds for just a friend. But Steven was different, which she knew was what every naive young girl said about their work crush, but he truly was. Steven had a kindness she had never known someone to offer without wanting anything in return, which he didn’t. He was so sweet to her she understood why he loved the sugary caramel syrup in his coffee so much, she thought often it glazed his every word with a honeyed tone. His face was a blend of a greek god and a lost puppy, a combination she never would have banked on being so damn attractive until she met him.

Even his smell alone of a quiet library, a rain soaked meadow and freshly brewed coffee had her inebriated.

“It’s fine,” The woman reassured as she cut through the main lobby where it was already lively with school kids. A few queued up at the gift shop to pay for their treasures; she smiled when she saw a girl with an Anubis plushie tucked under her arm. “I’m sure she would have found a reason to snap today anyway,”

She adored her job, she really did. Graduating university with a degree in Ancient Languages, working in London’s heart of archeological texts had been a linguist’s version of Broadway. Sure, her talents were beyond soured working in the gift shop, but anything was better than the life she’d fled to get here.

No amount of sneers and dry remarks from Donna could ever drag her kicking and screaming back to that time before she left for Soho.

“What did you dream about this time?” She asked, her black, kitten heels clicking against the freshly polished marble floor.

A ghost of a smile spread across his face, and her eyes couldn’t help but linger on the way his brows lifted, giving away his amusement at his own head. “It was the weirdest thing. I felt like I was flying over London, but not, like, in an aeroplane or anything, like I was flying. Like, me. No wings or anything. Like I’m bloody superman or something.” Steven shook his head again and she gave a small laugh.

“Certainly beats getting the underground. You know, I saw a rat the size of a dachshund this morning, swear on my life. I thought it was about to ask me for spare change,” Steven smiled at his colleague as they entered the Ancient Egypt area. She took a sip of her own hot latte, sweet cinnamon with whipped cream that had long since melted, the liquid already half devoured when she was waiting for him to show up.

“Don’t you ever have dreams like that, then? That feel so ridiculous. It's like, how can my head even come up with it?” Steven asked, and her smile wobbled a little as she saw her manager set her predatory gaze on the two of them. The people pleaser in her wanted to cower at Donna’s furious expression.

In all honesty, she wished for dreams as ludicrous as flying over Piccadilly like a Mary Poppins wannabe. She wished she had Steven’s innocent look on life, that the world around her didn’t terrify her, that it could be as gentle with her as he was.

But that was not real life.

Her dreams were not filled with silly fantasies of flying like heroes. They were filled with dark monsters that looked too much like men to be supernatural, that managed to catch her no matter how many times she ran, begged, screamed. They always caught up to her. Always. Leaving her clawing at the duvet, drenched in sweat and a pulse that could challenge a hummingbird’s.

“Brace yourself,” She ignored his question, muttering the words to him as the blonde came strutting over to them with a daggers look. Ah, Donna. The woman that made her job so joyful, so easy, a delight to be around.

Donna hated her almost as much as she made it clear Steven was on a metaphorical hit list the moment he stepped foot into the museum.

“You pair better have a good explanation,” Donna snapped, dumping a tower of boxes in Steven’s arms.

“Bus times-” Steven said at the same time she came out with:

“Road works-”

They both stopped, hesitating a glance to one another. The blonde looked between them, shaking her head with a furrowed brow and a scornful sigh.

“It’s like tweedledum and tweedledee having you two together,” She muttered, nudging the younger girl towards the stands in the middle of the gift shop, “Dum, you’re stock shelves today, love,” The term didn’t sound nearly as friendly coming from her mouth, nor did it make her chest flutter like it did when Steven said it. It was condescending, rude. Made to make her feel inferior, which it did. She pointed at the man then, shoving a basket of insect themed sweets to him behind the till, “Dee, you’re selling these.”

Donna looked between the two of them one last time, her steely blue glare never wavering, as if checking they could be left alone together without wasting company time, before going to set her unforgiving jaws on some other poor creature.

The girl set her bag behind the counter and got to work organising the merchandise, twisting the ceramic scarabs to all be facing the front.

It was a menial job at best, being stuck stacking shelves as mothers and fathers reached over to inspect the new stock, most of the time messing up the meticulous order she’d put them out in. Kids got their grubby mits all over the glass pyramid paperweights, making her eye twitch since she knew she’d need to polish them up again, only to flash them a smile and ask them kindly if they had the pocket money to pay for it.

They didn’t, kids just liked to fiddle with priceless things and their parents were too busy on their phones to notice.

She was half way through showing two young girls to the sarcophagus themed pencil cases when she caught sight of Dylan at the front counter, leaning in to talk to Steven.

Dylan was a nice woman to work with. She was one of the only people who’d tried to coax conversation out of the greenie the first week she started there, which had been painful for both of them since she had never been known to be sociable. Companionship did not come easy to her and it was only by sheer luck that Steven seemed so similarly awkward in a charming way that she was able to feel comfortable around him.

It was childish really, a silly work crush that she had no intention of ever letting slip. He was too good for her anyway. He was sweet and kind, gentle, innocent. Everything she was not.

Steven Grant deserved someone who could give him the world. Which is why it shouldn’t have come to too much of a stab to the chest when she heard what the two of them were talking about.

“We still on for seven tomorrow?” Dylan asked, her hair falling in those beautiful, tight curls over her shoulder. Dylan was the type who showed up to work every day looking effortlessly gorgeous which clawed at the younger girl more than she cared to acknowledge. She liked Dylan, she really did. She was friendly in a way that was genuine, didn’t have her second guessing whether she meant the compliments she gave to anyone.

Some days she wondered if Dylan pitied her. A plain Jane girl with no family to lean on, trying to make ends meet in a city as extortionate as London and chin deep in university loans. It was enough for any attractive, confident adult woman to kiss their teeth and “Awww”.

The girl watched the two of them, waiting for the teenagers to decide which stationary sets they wanted. They were looking for ‘different but matching’ they had said, not that she was paying much attention to them. Steven’s face was the picture of lost as he stared at the grown woman, seemingly entranced with her face. And she couldn’t blame him. Dylan flashed him a teasing smile, brilliant white teeth poking out from behind her luscious dark lips.

“Seven tomorrow?” He asked, despite nodding happily as if he understood what she was talking about. But his friend didn’t miss the confusion blaring on his face, his eyes as brown as the coffee she’d bought him scrunched up slightly in bewilderment.

“Best steak in town?” Dylan prompted, her smile not faltering though she seemed to also be slightly thrown off that had forgotten.

Their unknowing audience kept her head down, not wanting to watch for a second more of their conversation. She didn’t need a degree to see the way Dylan had leaned in, her body language turned completely towards him as if to tease him with what could come if their date were to go well, her own almond eyes trailing over him with the air of confidence her younger counterpart lacked.

“Oh right, yeah. Yeah,” Steven replied. She could tell he still had no clue what Dylan was talking about.

“Yeah? Okay,” Dylan replied, oblivious to his dilemma, and stepped away from the desk to go tour the new group of school kids waiting in the hallway.

Steven followed her trail hotly before she could leave, “Sorry but,” He stepped towards her to talk a little quieter, almost embarrassed about how forward he was being, “Are you asking me out?”

Dylan stopped, reeling slightly in shock before she wagged a finger to him and chuckled. “You’re funny. I’ll see you then.” She seemed unbothered by his ‘joke’ though she could hear in his own voice he was muddled. The woman walked away with a sultry looking smile, her eyes flicking to her where her other coworker silently arranged the pencil sarcophaguses. “Morning, babe,” She gave the girl a friendly squeeze on the upper arm as she passed. It only made it more difficult to writhe in jealousy knowing the woman he was seeing was downright lovely.

“Morning, Dylan,” She returned the smile, though the bitterness festered inside her. She had no claim over him, and she really couldn’t blame the two of them for gravitating towards one another. Not only was she merely twenty-five, a decade under Steven and Dylan’s thirty-five years, but Dylan was sexy, confident, flirty. Knew what she wanted. She was incredibly smart too, not an airhead like some other people trying to live the big dream in London. Dylan was a tour guide at the British Museum, and what was she? A graduate with a dead degree, pun intended, and a job that could be done by any wannabe walking in here.

Taking a moment to rearrange her feelings, shoving down the way her heart wriggled in her chest as the little green monster worked its way through her veins, pumping disappointment around her body like a drug.

The two young girls seemed to only then decide which pencil boxes they wanted, unbeknownst to her inner turmoil, and she remained silent as she led them over to the till to talk to Steven, more for her own benefit than theirs.

“I didn’t know you’d asked her out,” She said finally, though it came out as a croak, which she cleared from her throat quickly. Steven scanned their items as the girls both fiddled with ten pound notes, the great Queen Elizabeth staring at the woman from their hands as if she even knew how childish she sounded.

“Neither did I,” Steven replied honestly, printing off the receipts for them, “And you would think for a woman like her there’d be no chance I’d forget a date, you know what I mean?”

Ouch. She smiled tightly, waving the younger girls off as they caught up with Dylan’s tour group. The woman of the hour. Of course he’d be elated at the sound of that, what man with eyes wouldn’t? Anyone would count their stars lucky to be given a chance by a temptress like her.

“Must have needed that coffee today after all,” She joked, though she couldn’t bring herself to smile properly, instead finding a middle ground between a grimace and a simper.

Steven chuckled at her, shaking his head. “Must have. What would I ever do without you?” She grinned painfully at him, looking away to try and hide the way her face grew hot at his thoughtless words. “Am I still walking you home tonight?”

Another of their routines. She lived closer to Islington than the lovely apartment Steven had in Whitechapel. Despite paying a lot per month to live so close to the city centre, some areas of London like the borough she lived in was still ridden with some of the highest crime rate in the county. Steven was more thoughtful than anyone she had ever met, a rarity in this place, and on the days they were at work together he would ride the underground home with her before detouring around to his own apartment even further away.

“Uh, no,” She replied, busying herself with unloading one of the boxes Donna had dumped in Steven’s hands earlier. She loved spending time with Steven, loved it so much that she felt guilty of lusting over him without his knowledge, but she couldn’t bear to hear any more about this date that he would no doubt want to pick her brain apart over. He’d want to ask what to wear, how to style his hair, if he should buy her chocolates and flowers even though she already knew he would. And the whole time she’d be hoarse in the throat from holding back the urge to say Date me instead, I’m begging you. “No, I have a date of my own tonight,”

Liar. Liar. Liar.

It was like their monarch Elizabeth was still glaring at her, judging her through her inky lashes and driving the dagger in further at the fact that this kind of behaviour was exactly what made her too immature to be considered for a real date with Steven.

He raised his brows, surprised. It wasn’t uncommon for her to have an occasional fling with a guy every now and then. But none of them really progressed to a date, just a single night of passion to groan over in embarrassment when Steven asked how her weekend went.

“Oh, who’s the lucky guy?” Steven asked, nudging her shoulder in a tone that was nothing but teasing.

“No one, just someone I met on tinder,” She brushed off, the lack of excitement making the man stop trying to pry a smile out of her.

“What’s the matter?” She shrugged at him, not coming up with a response in time. What he took as nerves was in fact guilt and disgust feasting on her insides at the fact she was lying to him. Lying. There was no mystery man, no one coming to save her from this awkward display of what pure jealousy can do to a reasonable person. “You can always cancel if you don’t want to go.”

“I just…” she trailed off, stuck for what to say. He was looking at her with those puppy eyes no grown man should be able to perfect. And yet he was patiently waiting for her to stumble on the right set of words, his entire focus on whatever it was troubling her. That was another thing, for as chatty as a person as Steven was, he was just as good a listener, and she could tell he gave her everything every single time they would talk. “I just don’t know what to wear, is all,”

He seemed content with her answer as his eyes trailed down her body. She squirmed under his gaze but hid it well (not at all) by pulling her cardigan sleeves over her hands and balling her fists to fidget with, “Wear what you’re wearing now,” He said simply, as if it were obvious.

She looked down. A large top and casual jeans did not exactly say date worthy, though she wasn’t sure if there were actual rules to hypothetical dating, seeing as her man was fucking imaginary.

She giggled at him nonetheless, shaking her head, “These are my work clothes, Steven. I can’t go like this.”

“Why not? I think you look lovely,” Steven’s comment was passing, tiny in the scale of things. Yet it sent her heart scrambling for a grip on reality. He was just her friend, complimenting her on her perfectly ordinary clothes. Nothing more.

It wasn’t until she found herself smiling at a set of metal Pharaohs that she realised she needed to get a date for this evening fast. If Dylan and Steven could find someone in this wide city, surely it couldn’t be too hard for her to.

Sound was the first thing that came back to her. The crappy animated kids show she had been watching out of pure boredom last night was still playing after being left on all night. No doubt running up her already high electric bills. The exaggerated, slapstick bangs blared through the speaker. That caught her attention, drawing her into the awake like a fog horn from shore. The midday sun slipped through the open curtains, flicking over her lids and coaxing her to open them. She did so gently, lashes batting over her cheeks as she tried to make sense of where she was.

Her sofa.

The two empty mugs glared back at her from the coffee table, making her eyes wince in confusion. Why was she making tea so late last night?

Then the stench hit her. The smokey yet overwhelmingly powerful smell of a gentleman caller named Jack Daniels wafted up her nose and brought back a panorama of memories flicking through her head; The date. A real date that had been scheduled since Thursday. A completely ordinary blonde named James. The restaurant. Him being almost too charming. Fake laughing at his jokes she had already seen on Twitter weeks ago. Him touching her thigh every chance he could get. Suggesting they go to a club. Dancing. Shots. More dancing. Sharing a beer she pretended not to think was the most horrendous thing she’d ever tasted. More shots. More dancing. Him grabbing her hips. Her waist. Him kissing her neck, cheek, lips. Him grabbing her more, something she would find sleazy if she wasn’t desperate to force Steven out of her intoxicated brain.

Which led to her apartment. The sofa, as classy as it sounded, was seemingly a better option than her bed. She had been quick to shut him down when he suggested moving it to her room; that was too intimate. That was her space, which would only be tainted by this stranger wanting to bend her over. So the sofa it was.

Whiskey served in old mugs she got from the gift shop being chugged for Dutch courage. The same mugs she had bought with Steven as part of a set. They had taken two each, promising that they would be used whenever the other visited.

She had given him Steven’s mug out of spite, even in her vodka riddled brain she was burying her feelings six feet under.

Her hand shot out when she heard her phone buzzing, not wanting it to wake up her actual gentleman caller.

The phone was clumsily brought to her ear, not even bothering to check who was calling before she swiped the green icon.

“Hullo?” It came out a horrible croaky mess and had her coughing the second she’d asked.

“Hi, Dove! Just called to see how your date went.” Steven’s voice blared through the speaker, which only served to have her pulling it away and groaning. “And also to tell you about my dream, I think it was the weirdest one to date!”

“Woah, slow down, Steve-” She tried to say, but the man had clearly a mouthful to tell her and continued on regardless.

“I was in the alps, but it was all so real. There was this group of people taking it in turn to hold hands with this weird American guy, and then I got into a high speed cupcake-van chase with the lot of them because they started saying I’d stolen this little scarab thing from them, I don’t know where I get this stuff from-” Her eyes scrunched together in pain, though she lay in the quiet and tried to gather her bearings. She sat up from the sofa, shivering when she saw it was around midday outside and she had forgotten to close the window.

“Sounds intense,” She mused to keep him talking, pulling a blanket over her still nude body as she stood to close it and preserve the heating. Her head spun as she stood, a rush of bile rising to her throat dangerously, which she choked back down and looked around the room. Quickly realising she was alone in her flat, she shuffled over to the kitchen in her blanket cocoon to find her purse to see how bad the damage her little excursion had done to her limited stash as any responsible youth did after a night out in London.

“It was! I swear it was like I could feel the cars smashing into me- Oh right! How was your date?”

She blanched, head still pounding, “Uh. Yeah it was great.” It was average at best. “He was super funny,” For a Twitter fraud. “So romantic,” If romantic was the new word for ten minutes of missionary and not even making her cum. “He took me wine tasting,” She was sure she’d be tasting the wine she’d bought at the club any second now judging by the way her head spun, “Yeah, he was great,” He wasn’t you, Steven.

“I’m so pleased for you, love!” Her best friend cheered, a part of her writhing in repulsion that she had lied to him again. Though maybe that was the wine begging to make an appearance. She stuck the lever down on the kettle to get the water boiling, sure that a fresh cup of strong tea would be the only thing to pull her through this hangover.

Part of her, the dark, twisted part, wanted him to be jealous. Wanted to make him as frustrated and envious as he had unknowingly made her. But he would never, could never. Steven was tender and good. He was too sweet to ever think a single bitter thought towards her, towards Donna even. Which only served to make her feel even more rotten inside.

“How was your date with Dylan?” She forced herself to ask. It was selfish for her to think, but she wished more than anything for him to tell her that it went horribly. She hated the part of her inside that sang with glee at the idea of him hating his date. She truly was wicked inside, and the idea only reminded her more of why she would never be asked on a date by him. Maybe he could see it too, how sick she was for wanting the world to suffer if she couldn’t have the one man she’d ever truly wanted.

“That’s not until tonight, love, remember?” He said casually, as she fumbled around her kitchen for her handbag. She locked eyes on the little black clutch sitting on top of the counter. Her brows furrowed in confusion, she could have sworn Dylan said they were meeting Friday, two full nights ago. Her heart plummeted, maybe it was a second date.

Ofcourse it was. Ofcourse they hit it off, who wouldn’t. He was as smitten as anything and Dylan wasn’t that kind of woman that was too afraid to tell him exactly what she wanted. If she wanted to see him again, then Steven would give her exactly what she asked for.

“Tonight?” She asked, squeezing the phone between her shoulder and her head as she popped open the clasps to her bag.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t forget a woman like her twice in a row,” Steven joked. But what should have made her gut curdle in pain only fell on deaf ears.

Her purse was gone. Her purse that never left her damn bag, that she had stuffed her rent money in as soon as she’d gotten it was missing.

“I-I’m gonna have to call you back, Steven,” She uttered through the heart sized lump in her throat. Her palms were already clammy with sweat, both from the drink and from her sheer panic, “Good luck on your date,”

“Alright, gators!”

She barely got a chance to murmur their goodbye back before she had thrown her phone down on the plain, white counter and dumped out the contents of her bag.

Hair ties, the odd two pence, a pen she stole from the bank. But no purse.

She turned her coat pockets inside out, the blanket falling down her waist and exposing her round breasts to the cold air. But she couldn’t care less. The goosebumps slithering up her arms did nothing to fight the hot panic as the sofa cushions were thrown off their frame, the young girl still turning up empty handed.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

This could not be happening. She hadn’t opened her bag all night, even when she got out of the taxi she had her phone readily in her hand and the bag tightly closed. Someone could have taken it in the club, sure, but that made no sense seeing as her bag was definitely still heavy with the wallet when she had gotten home, not near empty like it was now.

Which only meant…

Her date had fucking stolen from her.

“FUCK!” She yelled, throwing her vacant bag across the room with tears brimming her eyes.

It seemed life had been digging a trench underneath Rock Bottom reserved for her at a time like this. And she was left clutching at the muddy walls, trying to drag herself to safety and anywhere that wasn’t her shitty situation where she pined over a man she could never have, where she was still walking the line between sane and whatever else was brewing inside her, fighting against tendrils of hatred and chaos, malignance, that wrapped around her organs and reminded her where she came from, what she was. A life where she got mugged by the men she fucked at her expensive pity parties.

She just hoped Donna wasn’t too hard on her tomorrow after this shit show of a weekend.

“Late, again,” Came the chiding voice the moment she stepped in the building.

Sweat dripped down her back from her long trek through London to get to work. 48 minutes of power walking is what she had been reduced to, unable to get the bus or underground for lack of money.

And she was still late. She was expecting a nice, fat kick to the teeth any time now.

“It’s five minutes, Donna,” You pleaded, yanking an earphone out. Music was the only thing that could block out the thrum of anger and agony she was in from the weekends chaotics.

“Even Stevie-”

“Steven,”

“-Was on time today and he’s the worst for it,” Donna snapped, and the young girl could do nothing but slump in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Donna. It won’t happen again.” She promised. She wasn’t sure if she meant it yet with her lack of transport, but she couldn’t lose this job. She didn’t even know how she was going to pay for this month’s rent let alone catch the bus, breakfast itself had been skipped in an attempt to conserve food. Her stomach ached from the exercise, crying out for anything to fill its distressed cavern. “I got robbed yesterday so I walked,” She murmured, avoiding the blue eyes that had narrowed in on her. She hated feeling pitied, feeling as though people were sorry for her. But it was the truth, and the truth sucked sometimes.

She wasn’t sure what beam of light had shone out of Donna’s ass this morning, or whether she really did look just that pathetic, but the blonde woman just sighed and nudged her towards the gift shop.

In perhaps the nicest tone she’d ever spoken to her, Donna quietly said “Last warning, girl, alright?” The younger woman thanked her quickly, her small voice sheepish. Her boss looked down at her in discontent, “Alright, get going. And you’re on inventory with Steven tonight so best behaviour, I mean it,”

She nodded, turning on her heel to speed towards the gift shop.

Turning from the main lobby to enter the Ancient Egypt exhibits, she’d not gotten halfway there when she’d caught up to Steven seemingly helping a customer. Odd considering the fact he wasn’t even in the shop yet, but knowing Steven he’d probably stopped to chat the guy’s ear off about something he knew too much about to be just a giftshoppist.

She went to wave when he looked up and met her gaze, but the forlorn, scared expression she found there had her already negligent smile drop completely. Steven seemed relieved to see her, too nervous to say anything to the man himself as he stood too close for his comfort.

Her eyes fell to where the stranger held Steven’s hands tightly, murmuring something to him that seemed to have her friend freaked out. The whole sight threw her for a loop, and she called his name on instinct, the new man’s head shooting up to stare at her blankly.

Speeding up her pace, she met the two as Steven pulled away from the stranger’s strong grasp. “Steven, are you okay?” She asked gently, looking from her friend to the lithe figure of the man. He wasn’t tall by any means, but his presence, the way he dressed and held an intricately woven cane seemed meant to make himself superior. His hair was long and greying, still young enough to be attractive but probably a bit older than Steven. A neat sort of scruff sat on his chin, and old blue orbs took her in head to toe where she stood. Not out of lust, but out of intrigue.

“We were just talking, weren’t we, Steven?” The man said calmly, seemingly sizing her up himself. She looked over her shaken friend quickly, the alarm written over his face that had near brought him to tears telling her all she needed to know.

This man was no friend.

“Sorry, I don’t remember asking you,” She snipped in the cold politeness English people all knew how to enact, bringing her friend’s hand into her soft one for reassurance. Steven had never seen her so infuriated. And perhaps it was the weekend she’d had or the way the man so gentle he refused to kill insects seemed to be trembling beneath her hand, she wasn’t sure, but a fierce frown was deep set into her face that dropped into concern the moment she looked back to him, “Are you alright?”

“Can we go, please?” His round, nut brown eyes were soft and welled up as he quietly spoke, as if asking for her permission to be away from here despite being the older of the two. Her heart dropped at his sad expression, and she felt him squeeze her hand as if needing to reassure himself someone was there to save him.

She had no time to note the way the butterflies swelled in her stomach as he did so, focused on getting him away from the strange man.

“Ofcourse,” She said softly, turning to direct him to their little corner of the museum, hoping that the stranger would get the hint and just leave them be.

That seemed short lived when a cold hand wrapped itself around her lower arm, a gasp drawing its way from her lungs. She could feel the panic of being grabbed by the unfamiliar man crawling up her spine, her limbs going numb, her hearing dipping in and out of static at the adrenaline flushing through her system.

She heard Steven say her name as her head snapped to where the man’s strong grip tightened around her wrist. He seemed to stare at her with something calculating, and she wished she hadn’t run her mouth despite the fact she did so to protect the same person who was now behind her, a deeper sense of panic blaring in his eye than before.

“Let go-” Taking a deep breath to overcome the bubbling fear rising in her chest, her only words were cut off by a much clearer voice.

“There is a darkness in you,” The stranger said, as if he knew it for a fact.

Her heart plummeted.

Was it so obvious? No one had ever been able to see it, she buried it so deep in the hopes no one would ever get a glimpse beneath her kind shell. But it was a facade, and even he knew it. The shock must have read clear on her face as he pushed on, as if to reopen scar tissue with his bare hands.

“And chaos, oh there is chaos.” Her lips quirked between her teeth as she tried to stop them from trembling, “A shadow looms over you, little dove.” She felt Steven pull her closer to him, but this man had her every morsel of attention. How did he know, if he knew then surely Steven knew too. Knew she was born so dead she felt she was living a lie by being here. The man laughed to himself, just a small breath but it was enough to break her spirit, “What is it those witches say about Macbeth? Something wicked this way comes.” He asked though he already knew the answer, as if to entrance her with his own spell, “And I see you are truly something wicked.”

Her breath left her chest. The voice escaped her throat. Every intention of protecting Steven had practically evaporated out of her body as her co worker tugged her arm hard enough that the stranger let go of her.

“Leave us alone or I’ll call the police, alright?” Steven murmured with a new sense of courage, “I don’t care if you’re friends with the security here, you leave us alone,”

But the man’s eyes hadn’t left her, as if he knew just how deep his words had struck with her. He wormed his way into her brain even as Steven led her away with a kind hand on her back, his own words of reassurance coming to her as if she were underwater. As if she were being dragged under a current.

“He has no clue what he’s talking about, love. He was trying to get into my head too,” Steven said, but he could tell by the lost look in her eyes it was barely being registered.

“Who the hell was that?” She asked after a moment, the feeling in her fingertips just about awakening once they were far enough away to be considered safe.

“You won’t believe me if I told you-”

“Steven, please,” She begged, looking up at him with a desperation he had never known from her. That man, Harrow, one of the women in the alps had called him, had truly shaken her up with the near omen he had given her.

Steven couldn’t understand why, she was possibly the loveliest girl he had ever met. There was no one who so much as held a torch to her light in Steven’s eyes. She was kind. Gentle. Good. This Harrow had no idea what he was talking about saying she was wicked. She was anything but.

Steven sighed, looking at her gravely. “Remember yesterday when I said I had that dream the other night. When I was in the alps, and those men were chasing me for some scarab I’d stolen,”

She blinked at him emptily. In her defence, her brain had still been riddled with alcohol when he’d been rambling, and she had gotten caught up in her own personal issues since then to take much notice. But the scenario sounded familiar as she wracked her brain for the information, some light sparking in her eyes when it clicked to their phone conversation the day before.

She stayed silent, eyebrows furrowing, “You said that was a dream, Steven. That man is very much real,”

“I know, I thought it was a dream,” Steven explained, “But now they’re here, and they keep saying I’ve got this scarab and what not. I don’t understand any of this, love. I’m sorry. I just know he’s dangerous and we need to stay far away from him,”

The younger woman looked at him sadly. He was clearly in distress himself, and she felt a flash of sympathy run through her at his lost expression, yet his eyes were full of concern for her well being.

She knew what it was like to struggle to know what was real and what was not. What it was like to feel as though you're barely keeping your head above the waters of reality. Yet she trusted Steven would tell her if he knew what was happening.

She knew he was more honest than anyone she’d ever known, so she didn’t push.

“Alright,” She said with a heavy sigh, rubbing her eyes to relieve the pressure building in her frontal lobes, “Alright, let’s just steer clear of him, okay? And if he comes back, we go to the police together.”

Steven seemed relieved, which wasn’t a surprise since he knew it was a big ask to have someone trust such a ludicrous story. Yet he didn’t know why he doubted her. She was loyal and would never dream of ridiculing him like other people might. She just took his word as gospel.

She was too good to him.

“Okay, yeah. Good plan,” He said, nodding and checking behind him to see if the guy was still after them when a smaller body pressed its way into his chest.

She didn’t know why she did it, whether it was for his benefit or hers, but she hugged him. Tightly too, as if she had been holding back for a while (she had). They hugged all the time, when saying goodbye at her train stop, when they saw each other on a morning given they weren’t running late. But it never felt like this, so intimate. So much like she needed him so desperately.

Perhaps it was childish, but the way he drew her closer, resting a head on top of hers as if he needed the contact as much as she did made her heart flutter even with the strange circumstances. For a moment, they both felt safe, like Harrow couldn’t get in their heads entirely because they had each other to ground them, reassure the other that they were not alone in the web his ominous words had spun them into, and that was enough for now.

Yet the two of them barely spoke all day.

Whether it was they were too busy with their actual work, or they were both in their heads thinking just what Harrow had meant by his prophesying.

It wasn’t until inventory was nearly done that she spoke first.

“We’re going to be alright, aren’t we?” She asked, his head cutting to hers from where he was scanning some Beefeater Rubber ducks. He seemed to notice the slight glint of fear in her tone, “As in, they don’t know where you live do they? Or me?”

“No love, of course not,” At least he hoped they didn’t. Steven realistically couldn’t promise anything, he had no idea how far this Harrow’s network of followers ran. But he knew for certain he couldn’t stand to see her so scared. It ran a streak of anger in him that was unusual. Steven never found himself particularly angry, but it had run red hot when he saw the way Harrow had grabbed her and knocked the soul out of her with his words alone. “If you want, you can stay at mine tonight? I’ll take the sofa, you can take my bed,” After he’d swept away the giant ring of sand of course.

She smiled at him finally, maybe the first proper one she’d shown him all day. And he couldn’t help but feel his chest grow lighter that he had done that. Gods be good, she was pretty when she smiled, he thought.

“Thanks, Steven,” She said quietly. He was confident the two of them could figure this out together, and if he was sure of her, then how wicked could she truly be?

She knew it was a cop out, that she hid so much from him that he didn’t know the real her; that if he did he would turn tail and run as far as he could from the monster in front of him. That he would curse himself once he realised Harrow was right; she was polluted down to her marrow.

“I’ve only got this box left to do, love, then we can get out of here,” Steven promised, his eyes flicking over where she collected two half full crates of merchandise and headed out of the gift shop to the stockroom.

“I’ll take these out and meet you in the lobby?” She called over her shoulder, hearing him agree as she walked away to the area meant for employees only.

Sighing deeply, she put the crates down gently, sliding them into a bottom shelf out the way of clumsy feet (most likely her own). A thought jumped in her tired brain, and she was quick to turn out her pockets for any spare change she could use for the train fare back to Steven’s apartment.

Just as she suspected: empty. Because why would she be so lucky as to have anything good happen to her. She could always try and persuade Steven to walk home and save the embarrassment of revealing what actually happened to her Saturday night, but she knew the pitiful look he would give her if she told him the truth of her date. The sad eyes that would flash that neither of them needed after a morning of such anguish.

They didn’t need another of her pity parties today, and she grimaced at the thought of how horrendously the last one ended. Though she knew Steven was different, that he would never do anything so cruel to a stranger let alone herself.

It only made her heart yearn for him more.

Sighing, she thought on her feet as to what to tell him as she left the stockroom, locking the door behind her with the key Donna gave them all a copy of. Her heels rhythmically clicked on the freshly polished floor that reflected her frowning face back at her as if to remind her to stop looking so tormented.

She saw the light of the main exhibit at the end of the darkened hallway, heading towards it at no rush since she figured Steven would likely just about be done himself. Lost in her own head as to what excuse to give the man she called her only friend, she almost missed the deep sound snarling in the shadows behind her.

Whipping her head around with a wide eyed expression, her eyes flicked around the hallway for any glimpse of what made that sound.

But she saw nothing. Not in the way shadows were nothing, dark patches of nothing, as in she saw nothing there. Had anything been lingering behind her, she would have at least caught or heard any movement.

She paused for a second to take another look, only to still come up empty. Her foot warily continued its original path, figuring the sound must have been the cleaners dragging something against the floor.

“Hey, Steven,” She called upon approaching the lobby where he’d be waiting, “Do you reckon I could owe you a coffee for my train fare? It’s just-”

Her voice cut out when she heard the low growl again, much louder this time. Loud enough to have her wince and stop in her tracks in the centre of the room.

She caught sight of the navy blue jacket she knew too well walking backwards slowly, his eyes trained on something in the adjacent corridor.

“Steven-” She whisper yelled, his panicked eyes snapping to hers, “What the hell is that-”

His arm raised out to point at the shadow illuminating the wall. Her gaze fixed on the shadow of a wild dog of sorts, its snout long and open in a fierce grin. She could practically see the outline of the drool dripping from its sharp teeth, at least she hoped it was saliva she thought gravely.

Her breath left her instantly. What the fuck was that? Her knees felt as if they were about to buckle underneath her, calves going numb as the adrenaline flushed over her body in tidal waves. She was always a dog lover, she’d had two as a kid, but something told her whatever kind of beast this was, it was not nearly as friendly as a tamed canine would be.

And it seemed Steven realised it too as he was quick to cower behind a display of an ancient relic clutching his bag to his chest tightly.

His frantic eyes pleaded for her to move, but she seemed frozen to the spot.

The overhead tannoy rang melodically, as if God was preparing to make the announcement that they were truly fucked, something she didn’t need a bulletin to know.

“Steven Grant of the gift shop.” The sound of that familiar voice had her heart plummeting into her gut that twisted painfully. Did this guy have attack dogs or something? How had he gotten them past security? They looked huge. “Give me the scarab and the two of you won’t be torn apart,”

The scarab? Everything Steven had said about his dream was true. And if that was true then that meant this guy was a nut job capable of having his entire team hunt her down for so much as associating with poor Steven who looked as lost as she felt.

The shadow moved, shifting around the corner of the hall to enter the open lobby. A scratch-like sound found her ears, as if someone were running knives over a cold slab, and she realised with a shiver this thing must have claws.

And they were approaching.

An open mouthed growl echoed through the room, which only served to confuse her even more. From the volume alone she knew the thing was big, and in the very same room as her. Which meant she surely should be able to see it as she could see the entire length of the room it had to be walking down.

But that was the thing. There was nothing there.

“Steven,” She whimpered quietly. It was stupid, making that noise and attracting attention to herself. But she was scared. She wanted to know what to do. Wanted comfort that she wasn't going insane, that maybe this was all a practical joke and there really was nothing there.

A second set of razor sharp nails entered the room from the same direction, yet again she could only decipher that on sound alone. The chorus of snarls that only got closer did nothing but have her step back on instinct.

“Steven-” She said again, only to see him standing in a rush.

“RUN!” He yelled, taking off towards the exit.

She didn’t need to see the dogs to know they were in the way of her and the same route Steven had taken, so she settled for scrambling back the way she came. The black heels she wore for work to seem professional only proved to be useless when running from wild animals, it seemed. Who’d have thought it?

Her feet pounded down the maze of exhibits, trying to make it to the exit where Steven had headed towards. But for every one step she took, two paws advanced on her like an apex predator heading for its kill.

Which she no doubt would be.

Turning past the Anubis exhibit her stomach dropped when she heard a strong body colliding with the same wall she had practically skidded past. Her lungs burnt with effort, her breaths coming out in wheezes. She had one last turn and before she would be seconds away from the fire exit that she could barricade from the outside.

The feeling of the dog’s hot breath on the back of her ankles had her pushing herself harder, too scared to look over her shoulder. She was coming up to where the hallway split into two and she headed for the right where she was sure the back exit was. She couldn’t help but wish Steven was able to outrun the mutt on his own heels, having not heard from him since she had taken off in separate directions.

Taking the turning past a remaining chunk of what was once a Cleopatra statue, her eyes adjusted to the dark corridor. Where were the slab paintings of the sphinx? Where were the memorials to King Tut? They should be here, they’re always next to this exit-

Her chest constricted when she realised her mistake. Her grave mistake.

In the panic of escaping the creature, she had taken the wrong turning. She should have gone left.

Yet judging by the way the animal grunted with the effort of the chase, she had no option but forward.

Forward to a dead end. To the Setekh exhibit room.

The walls were alive with paintings recovered from ancient tombs. The god of Storms, among other things, was feared through all of Egypt in the later dynasty. He was associated with all things evil, mysterious and disordered. The huge altar that held the statue of Set, his long face foreboding and as cold as the stone it was preserved in, looked down at her in almost malice as her feet took her into the one place she had left to go.

It wasn’t until she felt the walls surrounding her, the penny dropped how fucked she was. There was no way out, no cutting back the way she came as the creature ran into the vast room with her. Dodging one of the plinths containing statues of the demon god, she had barely a second where her pace slowed down as she considered how she was going to turn back before she felt it.

A force stronger than a freight train hit her from behind. She heard every molecule of air get pushed from her lungs at the sheer weight of it, her throat audibly yelping. Its body collided with hers with a weight that she was sure must be pure muscle, and she was thrown to the hard floor with less effort than a child tossing a ragdoll.

The impact had her ribs rattling in her chest, brain bouncing against her now bleeding forehead. The cold floor was harsh against her raw skin. Her nose made a loud pop as it smashed against the marble, a hot sting erupting over her entire face.

But the worst was yet to come.

There was a moment when she was collecting her thoughts, head spinning from the collision. She was sure she’d damaged something in her skull as it pounded, harder than it ever had with any hangover.

She’d give anything to be back on her sofa feeling sorry for herself.

She hadn’t the time to pick herself back up when she felt something large do it for her. It must have been eight feet tall with how big its behemoth paws were as the one grabbed her leg and dragged her on her stomach towards itself. Like a cat playing with a mouse. Not ready to devour, not yet. Just playing. Torturing. Tormenting.

Then came the claws. Her eyes looked down at her ribs, the thin air surrounding them making her cry out in horror - there still wasn’t a fucking soul in sight. No dog, or animal. Or human even. Nothing. Yet her shirt ripped almost too easily as it let out a deep hiss of what she would call a near laugh and sunk its talons into her side.

That was when she started screaming.

Her throat hurt from the volume alone, a banshee shriek akin to a horror movie. It reverberated through the museum halls, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Vision started slipping then. Whether it was panic or her mind protecting her from what was coming next she didn’t know, but all she knew was everything felt weightless for a moment.

She thought maybe she was dying and ascending at that moment there and then. But she wasn't so lucky. She was still being made this creature's bitch as the God of chaos watched. What beautifully horrible irony.

It was then that it clicked in her stress-addled brain that she was not in fact weightless. That the reason she felt so was because she was now being suspended midair by the thing that had her in its vicious grasp.

It took shockingly little effort for the creature to throw her through the wall-sized fortified glass surrounding the monolith and for her whole body to crumple to the floor.

Steven slammed the bathroom door shut with a panting “Oh God”, his coffee brown eyes never leaving the thick metal that shook with the weight of the monster throwing itself at it violently.

What the fuck was his next move? What even was that thing? He retreated further into the bathroom with a lost expression, clutching his arms for a semblance of comfort.

“Steven,” The man in the mirror spoke in the same American accent he’d been hearing in his own home.

Looking at his reflection, he was agog to find the man identical to him moving on his own, as if independent from Steven himself. That was not his reflection, he knew that much, no matter how much it looked like it. “Steven, I can save us,” He said darkly, his eyes and frown much meaner than any expression Steven would ever wear.

The way he stood was entirely different too, as if he were bigger in stature despite being encased in the exact same body as Steven was.

“W-What?” Steven whispered, backing away from the door that weakened by the second.

He thought of Dove. Had she been able to get away, run out the front door and get help from anyone who would believe her? He hated the thought of those adorable little heels she wore clattering against the floor, he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d slowed her down. He always heard women complaining about walking in heels let alone running from fucking monsters in them.

Where was she?

“But I can’t have you fightin’ me this time,” He had felt like he’d been playing tug-of-war with his body for some time. But against what, he hadn’t known. His own reflection? This man staring back at him in the mirror with a scowl he knew wasn’t plastered on his own expression? “You need to give me control. You understand?”

He swivelled on his heel to see the man in the full length looking glass behind him, who seemed to tower over him in frame.

“No, what? Control of what? What are you talking about?” Steven bumbled, his eyes looking over the stranger’s shoulder to see the door shaking on its hinges now. Dents were appearing now where the monster was caving its way into the bathroom, and one look at the length of its claws told Steven all he needed to know. He stood no chance against this thing alone.

“That thing’s about to break through the door. We’re out of time.” The man said, realising their predicament as much as he did. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a dream, the lot of it. The entire day. From that Harrow guy to the idea that he could possibly lose her to some ancient wild dog.

“No! No!” Steven cried, flinching as the door clattered one more time, the frame whining with the effort at which it held the assailant at bay.

“All right, hey. Listen to me,” The mirror man tried to reason, but Steven was panicking too much to hear him.

“Dammit, no! Stop it!” Steven slapped himself around the face a few times, begging with anything listening to wake him up from the worst nightmare he’d had yet. The image of her being chased by that thing wouldn’t leave his welled up eyes. He wanted to run to her, god knows he would have if that thing hadn’t been stood in between the two of them, blocking his way to her. “This is not real! You’re not real!”

“This is real. I’m real.” The man spoke calmly, as if a diametrical opposite to his own mood. He seemed to know more about what was happening, what that thing was, what it could do. Perhaps that was why Harrow had been chasing him in the first place.

Either way, Steven didn’t care. Not now at least. When the only person outside of his parents that he had ever held affection for was in danger. Imminent danger.

“No! You’re not,” Steven yelled back at his reflection through tears.

It was then he heard the screaming. A howl of visceral pain enough to rattle his bones at the familiar feminine tone to the voice.

It was her.

It was like nothing he’d ever heard, like an animal in a slaughterhouse. He trembled in his place at the thought. She was in danger. Oh god it had her.

“I’m gonna die- She’s gonna die-” Steven whimpered, the tears rolling down his olive cheeks at the thought. He really was useless.

“Steven, look at me.” He finally listened to his reflection with a pitied sniff, “You’re not gonna die, I can save us. But she is if you don’t give me control right now. Let me save her, okay?”

That was the straw that broke Steven’s resolve, the idea of her dying. He had never found it so easy to concede.

He just hoped the man using his body got to her in time.

She couldn’t see a mouth moving, nor could she actually see their face, just two beams of white blinking down at her.

She’d felt, still felt, the open wound seeping so harshly that she knew it was going to be fatal.

There was no coming back from whatever fever dream this was.

“Steve-” Came her broken murmur, but the metallic taste crawling its way up her throat cut her off as a blob of viscid blood rolled down her chin.

She didn’t have long left, she realised numbly.

How do you fight off a monster coming from within? You don't. You can’t. So she didn’t.

No amount of soft words or desperate touches on the figure helped her, it only made the departure messier, a bigger pool of blood for them to find her in.

The world felt surprisingly calm the moment she was snatched ruthlessly into Death’s open arms.

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flamingpudding · 6 months

Text

Fictober23 Prompt: 31 - "It's not your fault."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Based on the setting created through Prompt 14 and its Reblogs. Not necessarily to read beforehand but it might give a little context. I tried to go with a more Halloween themed short story hope that worked out.

"Damian this mission has the highest priority any mission or case ever had before." Dick was clutching a glaring Damians shoulders who was now raising an eyebrow like his elder brother had lost his mind.

"Richard, this is ridiculous." He commented, crossing his arms.

"I am serious Dami, we can not fail with this." The elder stressed more. If it were any other situation than this then Damian might have taken Dick more seriously but as it was. His elder brother was pleading with him, dressed in a ridiculous Vampire outfit after having forced Damian into an outfit that was clearly a mockery towards his old league gear. It was a simple ninja costume Dick was making him wear.

"Please Dami! You don't want to get black listed for a month like Bruce or Tim, right? Jason is going to do this if we ruin their first Halloween in Gotham!" The younger's eyes narrowed.

"Do not place me on the same level as Drake. I will not lose any rights towards my nieces and nephews like he did." He huffed as he looked away stubbornly from his elder brother. Damian was not foolish enough to repeat the same mistakes some members of his family have made. He was not going to let his nephews even touch coffee or any caffeinated drink in the first place.

Besides the incident with Jasmine and their father was a whole different matter. It was their fathers own fault for unconsciously challenging his niece and disregarding her talent in analyzing one's mindset, Todd had mentioned once.

"I just want to make sure! Jason has become so protective of the kids and I do not want to lose favorit uncle's privileges!" Damian's eye twitched as he shoved away his elder brother with his hand placed in the other's face. "You must be delusional Richard. I seem to remember that I was the favorite uncle of the twins."

Before Dick could counter Damian the front door opened and the two saw Jason enter the manor with the crime twins on either side of him and the toddler in his arms. The second eldest raised an eyebrow at them before glancing down towards the twins.

"Hey Little Wing, right on time! Where is Jazz?" Dick greeted them cheerfully, bending down a little to wave at Ellie that was blowing a raspberry in his direction. He was probably imaging it but it looked like the little girl was glaring at him.

"Already dropped her off with her school friends, I will pick her up tomorrow afternoon. It's her sibling free day, remember?" Jason only raised an eyebrow also noting the frown the twins were sporting at seeing Dick.

Dick nodded, turning towards the twins. Did he imagine it or did one of the boy's whisper fruitloop to the other. "Ready for your first Trick or Treat in Gotham? We gotta collect all the candy for you two that we can!"

"Sure." Dick was hoping for more enthusiasm from the boy's but maybe that would come once they got their first candies bagged. "You two look interesting, what are you going as?"

"Frankenstein." The two answered simultaneously before glaring at each other and Dick sweatdropped. One of the boy's was dressed like a mad scientist with a white coat and welding goggles strapped to his head as well as some broken medical equipment clearly made visible. The other boy looked more like a monster with ripped clothing, fake bolds glued to his neck and drawn stitches all over his visible skin that was coloured slightly greenish.

"Wow you both did a good job! The monster looks just like in the movies." Dick tried in hopes

"I see. So Daniel is Doctor Frankenstein while Dante is Frankenstein's monster." The twins looked up towards Damian, the glare lost for a moment before they turned on each other again.

"See Uncle Dick said it! When someone says Frankenstein they think of the Monster, twerp!"

"Nuhu! Uncle Damian got it! He knew I was the Doctor and not the monster!"

"And Jazz just got them to stop arguing about that shit." Jason muttered with a glare towards Dick before the twins could devolve any further into their argument Jason stepped towards the side where Alfred had appeared and was heading over the now bubbling little girl that was making grabby hand towards the butler. He then turned towards the boys.

"Okay you two. Remember today's rules." He clapped his hand for more effect and to get the two to look at him. Which sort of worked as they still gave each other side eyed glares but nodded regardless. "Good and remember no crimes today, enjoy your fun and do not stuff yourself with candies."

"Okay Dad." The twins answered in sync before Jason literally pushed them towards Dick and Damian and out the Manors front door. They were the ones taking the twins out for a Trick or Treat run as their first Halloween in Gotham. Jason was going to hang back with Alfred to take care of Ellie.

Dick had volunteered doing this for his brother a couple weeks before Jason had wondered what he was going to do with the kids for Halloween. Dick had also instantly volunteered Damian for it two. Their youngest brother wasn't that much older than the twins yet and they surely would feel more comfortable with two known family members around.

An hour in and Dick was moments away from admitting that he made a grave mistake.

"Dami! Have you seen Danny?!" Jason was going to murder them if they lost one of his kids. So Dick was rightfully slightly panicked. He had taken his eyes of the boy for only a moment to check something on his phone.

"You have lost Daniel?" The youngest Wayne looked miffed at him and had a slight glare before though Dick noticed something else in his eyes too. "Damian, where is Dan?"

The younger clicked his tongue and Dick paled slightly. Okay no big deal, they temporarily lost the crime twin. He had found and followed Danny before, surely he would be able to find the boy in the crowd of disguised children too. Danny went with a mad scientist costume. How many of them were running around? It would be more difficult to find Dan, he had spotted a couple of different Frankensteins already.

"Jason is going to blacklist us, isn't he?" Dick muttered his eyes wandering over every child he could see going from door to door for candies. Damian doing the same even watching other adults and parents in case one of them had the idea to snatch his nephews from them.

"It won't be as bad as Drake and father." Damian commented as a form of consolation to his elder brother but knew it probably would. Jason blacklisted Tim from watching the kids for the caffeine incident for a month and their father was still blacklisted until Jazz felt like talking to the man again, the twins in solidarity to their sister doing the same.

"Should we split up? But what if they are looking for us? Oh good what if one of the rogues snatched them up? Or worse, some leftover guys from that damned organization?" From the corner of his eyes Damian saw how his elder brother was getting worked up and even though he wasn't showing it, he too was worried. This certainly was not how they had hoped the boy's first Halloween with them would go.

In a decorative street tree on the side of the path Dick and Damian were on sat two boy's one munching on a licorice stick while the other was nibbling on chocolate. Both were invisible just in case their uncle decided to look up.

"Fake blood next?" Danny asked as he watched Dick starting to pace.

"Not yet. Did Dad mention anything about the firecrackers?" Dan asked in return as he bite of another piece of his licorice stick.

"Not that I remember, tho Jazz said to go easy on Uncle Dick." Danny hummed tilting his head slightly with a frown. "But he lost that privilege looking like the fruitloop. You got one of Dad's fake guns right?"

"Why? Didn't you say you wanted to 'fake' stab yourself with the broken syringe?" Dan raised an eyebrow as Danny gave him a feral grin. "You recovered your shape shifting power, right?"

Dan returned the feral grin with one of his own understanding what kind of prank Danny was hinting at. "For once, I like the way you're thinking, twerp."

"Would you stop calling me that! We are the same age now!" Danny pouted as he stuffed the last of his chocolate in his mouth and prepared to jump off the tree.

"Never!" Dan quickly answered with a laugh as he took the lead and jumped off the tree and disappeared into the crowds first as he let go of his invisibility. Danny quickly followed doing the same. They had after all a lot more pranks planned to play on their uncles.

The evening ended with Dick and Damian making their way into the Manor through the bat cave entrance so that they could get to the Medbay before Jason saw the twins. Both looked rather disheveled and like they had gotten dragged through mud. What they didn't expect was Jason, being in the cave and looking at them with raised eyebrows. Dick was holding Dan who was literally growling as Dick was pressing a bundle of tissues against the boy's nose. There was a ripped strip of his vampire costume tied around Dan's arm, a line of dried 'blood' going down the arm.

Damian was holding Danny. The boy looked dizzy, holding his head with one hand while he whined about everything being to bright, the goggles of his costume were cracked and the white coat now had red 'blood' strains, the shirt he was wearing also appeared to be soaked in 'blood' and there was a tried spot of blood below Danny's nose like he also had had a nose bleed like his twin.

"What happened?" Jason's tone sounded neutral and Dick laughed nervously.

"It looks worse than it is…" He tried to salvage, maybe they could still save their nephew watching privileges.

"Really?"

"It's Richard's fault. He lost sight of Danny first." Dicks head whipped around towards Damian who just decided to throw him under the bus. A look of betrayal crossed the eldest face at the narrowed stare Damian was giving him. "The situation spiraled from there."

"No wait! Damian lost Dan! It's not just my fault!" He tried to defend himself as Jason's eyes narrowed on him. But before he could come up with any more reasons why it was not just his fault and that they should not lose any of their uncle privileges because of that…

…Jason started laughing, wheezing out a "It's not your fault."

Confused Dick blinked before Dan jumped out of his hands the same time Danny jumped out of Damians. Suddenly the kids appeared like nothing was wrong as they rushed over towards Jason. Hadn't Danny been dizzy until now? And Dan had complained and growled at him about a headache?

He glanced at Damian who was watching the twins with narrowed eyes.

"Well looks like you two had a lot of fun." They watched how Jason patted the twins' heads grinning at them as the boy's sported proud looks, like they were pleased with themselves. "Your Auntie Babs is making a highlight reveal for the entire family later. Till then go wash up and bug one of your other uncles or aunts."

"Can I go bug Uncle Tim! I got an new invention idea when Uncle Dick got chased by the dogs!"

"I want to find Aunt Harper."

"Sure both should be in the Manor by now. Just wash up first." With the boy's sent away it left the two adults and teen in the batcave. One of them gabbing like fish, the other glaring with narrowed eyes and the last of them still chuckling.

"Todd." Damian hissed and Dick knew that tone. Damian was promising revenge on Jason.

"Light up brat. The twins needed an outlet and Jazz suggested they could pull some pranks today, I just told them that with you two they could go all out."

Dick wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or be slightly mad at his brother for that but eventually he decided to go with relief. "So we are not losing uncle privileges, good."

"You two are still getting blacklisted for two weeks."

"WHAT?"

"I demand a reason."

"You tried taking them with you on patrol and you gave them blade training. They are six."

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slightly-smarter-nat · 2 years

Note

What about a Natasha Romanoff X female avenger!R where Natasha has constant nightmares and has a hard time falling asleep. Then one night she finds R in the compound living room watching TV or something cause R is a night owl or just hanging around, so the red head joins her. It’s going great and Nat starts to relax but then R starts giving signs of heading to bed but Nat prolongs or suggests other things to do like have tea, watch a movie, braid hair, paint nails, anything she can come up with to not let R leave her alone and having to go back to sleep in fear of the nightmares coming back. Eventually R catches on what’s happening and asks why Nat is not letting her go to sleep and the Russian confesses, feeling guilty for keeping R from going to bed. But then R suggests Nat sleep in her room, like a sleepover, and by the end feelings are confessed! Sorry for being specific!! You write Natasha so well and on point!! I always love seeing (reading) this soft side of her!!

Favourite Person || Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of nightmares, mention of trauma, mentions of the Red Room, explicit language. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.

Word Count: 5127 words.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request Anon, (I’m so sorry it’s late). To the anon that requested this fic, if you are not happy with it and would like me to re-write it, I will happily do so. I hope you all enjoy! Please note this is an au so some character’s behaviours may be different to what is expected.

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Masterlist

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Favourite Person: Natasha Romanoff-

“No, no please- just let me go!”

The somewhat delicate yet rasping sounds of pleading whimpers of desired escape fill the momentarily still bedroom belonging to that of Natasha Romanoff.

Desperate intakes of air in combination with mind numbing struggles against a dream-like battle that she fails to overcome each night she’s graced with even a substantial set of hours to sleep, plague her traumatised mind.

With one final desperate gust of air surging through her windpipe, she forces her now awakened self up from the sweat-tainted mattress that supports her body.

Glistening, tear-filled eyes frantically roam the features of the room as Natasha scans her environment for any potential intruder destined to cause harm to her.

With a soft and grounding clutch to her Anchor shaded comforter, she concludes that she’s safe for another night; and that her wicked past has once again robbed her of another night of a peaceful and yet craved slumber.

Natasha can’t help as her hands roam her heated skin, having the urge to fidget as her mind fails to come down from the relentless period of memories belonging to that of the Red Room- ones that she would be ever so quick to forget if she was given the opportunity.

Knowing any further hours designated to sleep were off the table, Natasha leans her trembling body over to her bedside table- hoping to deliver herself a well needed drink of water to not only lessen her now dry throat, but to have the calming effect needed to slow her rapidly pacing heart rate down.

Much to her dismay, as she grasps the hardened plastic cup that once held a heaped amount of water in it; she soon realises her cup is now empty.

Having had her right to drink forfeited, she releases a gentle breath of frustration, alongside a string of Russian curses at the continuous, nightly bad luck that seems to be lurking its way to her recently.

One night she hopes she can have a dreamless sleep just to gather up enough energy to carry out her duties as an Avenger, and to stop her waking mind from reliving the nightmares from the night before. Though that seems like too much to ask.

Refusing to re-enter her nightmares once more during the nightly period, she sleepily hoists her body out from between her sheets. Ensuring she gives herself a moment to steady her breathing before leaving her darkened room.

Knowing she is ready, she quickly swipes her empty cup from her bedside table and ever so quietly makes her way to her bedroom door; taking extra care when turning the doorknob to exit the room with as minimal levels of noise as possible. She’d hate herself for disturbing any of her teammates with her late night adventure to the kitchen. Just because she can’t sleep, why should they pay the price in losing sleep also?

Little does Natasha know, one teammate in particular would lose countless hours of sleep to ensure the redhead was safe and secure in any situation- especially when her haunting dreams take their toll.

As Natasha makes her way through the narrow pathways leading to her desired location; she picks up a little tune on the side of her cup, allowing her nails to tap mindlessly against the smooth surface. Hoping her mind chooses to focus on the range of movements needed to continue the repeated pattern, opposed to the horrors lingering from within.

That is until her ears pick up on muffled voices coming from the living area of the Compound.

Natasha’s entire system freezes; in her sleepy and somewhat confused state of mind, her thoughts rush to the most terrifying conclusions:

The voices could belong to Hydra members; desperate to seek and steal documents from the Avengers. It could be the Red Room, sending their final wave of untraceable Widows to finish Natasha and Yelena off, and in the process take out the Avengers.

With a vice, tight grip now on her cup, Natasha steadily allows her feet to move herself towards the noise source in a stealthy manner- attempting to gauge the seriousness of the situation and to determine how much force will be needed to deal with the potential intruders.

Natasha unknowingly releases laboured breaths, each step filling her body with a dread that she has not felt since she was a child roaming the hallways of the Red Room itself. Desperately trying to move from one room to another without being punished for stepping in the incorrect sequence or even making too much noise when she is so harshly trained to be as silent as a whisper.

As Natasha lines her back with the edge of the wall leading to the Living Area and Kitchen, she inhales a steady breath, knocking herself into her ruthless ‘Black Widow’ nature. With a hardened glare, she moves her line of sight around the corner to which her entire demeanour drops as soon as she spots the unexpected scene unfolding in front of her.

She finds you laying across the couch haphazardly as you stare at the TV screen illuminating the room in a gentle, blue hue as the muffled voices that Natasha mistakenly thought to be intruders continue- seemingly now belonging to the show that entraps your attention currently.

Natasha slowly moves closer to you, noticing more details as she approaches: like how one of your legs swings over the edging of the sofa in a careless motion as you stare at the images dancing across the screen; how you lazily place singular pieces of popcorn on your tongue in anticipation to bite down on the slightly hardened texture of the food item. Even how you carefully rest your head on your supported hand, tilting your gaze in wonderment of the information being gathered from the show of your choice.

She can’t help but stare at you in awe, finding it highly difficult to recall an instance where she has known you to be so calm and collected. Even being in your presence has removed some of the tension that had been built up in her muscles since she woke up from her nightmare.

She must admit, she’s relieved to find you of all people out here. Out of all the members of the team recently, you’ve been one of the only ones who can effortlessly put a smile on her face- something she is in desperate need of in her current state.

Having the overwhelming sense to join you, she chooses to clear her throat, snapping you out of your TV trance once you register her presence.

You quickly reach for the TV remote and eagerly press down on the mute button as you go to speak to Natasha, “Oh, hey, sorry did I wake you up?”

Natasha quickly shakes her head, “No, I just- I wanted some more water. I didn’t expect anyone else to be up so late.” Natasha silently scolds herself for her awkward stuttering for an answer. Though she knows she’s not quite ready to burden you with her night terrors, part of her feels the added weight of keeping the anxiety surrounding them in once more.

You push yourself up from the couch with a slight groan, having been in the same position for several hours straight, “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m more of a ‘night owl’ than anything so usually I watch my shows in my room but my TV is busted. Tony said he will fix it for me tomorrow so this is more of a one off.” You say as you gesture to the scene around you.

Natasha takes in your words as she draws invisible patterns on her cup, “Don’t apologise, it’s nice to have some company at this time of night.” Natasha says genuinely, usually having to face the aftermath of her nightmares alone until the more reasonable hours of the morning.

“What are you watching?” She attempts to guide the conversation forward.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting Natasha to show an interest, “Oh, um Cupcake Wars.” You answer with glee.

Natasha smirks at your show choice, “Cupcake Wars? Really?” She says in a humoured manner.

You tilt your head with a narrowed gaze, “Judgment? Really?” You remark in a light manner, earning a chuckle from the Black Widow herself.

You lick your lips before you go to speak again, “You can blame Yelena for this, I wasn’t even into it until she made me watch it.”

Natasha scoffs in disbelief, never having assumed Yelena would even be into shows such as this, “Yelena? My sister? The lean, mean Mac n’ Cheese loving machine?”

You laugh at her words, knowing upon Yelena’s arrival to the Avengers she was eager to let it be known of her efficiency as a former member of the Red Room and how ambitious she can be in her line of work, but to her Sister and friends, she’s as soft as they come.

“Well yes, your sister, who I happened to be paired up with on a Recon Mission in December, decided that we needed to fulfil our ‘authentic American Christmas’, by watching the ‘Holiday Special’ of this series whilst we waited for Hydra to mess up and give us intel. Ever since then we’ve watched every episode, and we can mutually agree it’s the best decision we have ever made.” You playfully put it to Natasha, knowing she loves hearing the details of how well Yelena is settling into her new life away from the Red Room- the now secure life the two of them deserve.

Natasha beams at the information, relieved that Yelena is finding comfort within the Avengers, “Thank you for including her.” Natasha simply says, extremely grateful for your kindness, not only towards her, but to her little sister.

You smile at Natasha’s words, “Of course, it’s the same kindness you showed me when I first arrived at the Compound.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at your words, “Oh, believe me, it was a hard task being kind to you. You were feral.” Natasha attempts to tease you, knowing your first impressions of each other has been a running gag in your friendship for years.

You release an exaggerated gasp at her words, “Well, we both know I had Tony as my mentor so what did everyone expect to happen honestly?! I think I turned out pretty good considering my Avenger upbringing.” You lift yourself up to tuck one of your legs underneath yourself, seemingly becoming more engaged in the conversation through excitement of having Natasha close by.

Natasha pouts her lip and nods along to your words, “Sure, sure, we’ll let you believe that y/l/n.”

You quickly pick up a piece of popcorn to throw at Natasha, allowing your joyful laughs to fill the room.

Natasha easily catches the rogue piece of Popcorn, shoving it into her mouth for good measure, before bringing up the subject she has been dreading since she engaged in conversation with you, “I guess I had better grab my drink and leave you be. Goodnight, y/n.”

Your momentarily excited features drop slightly at Natasha’s words and loss of presence, you love being in her company. Majority of the time she’s the main source of happiness you can grasp at, with having some horrific events occur from your job, it’s refreshing having that comfort person you can call your friend- that person being Natasha.

Part of you also picks up on the depressed features of Natasha’s posture; usually present when something is on her mind or after a gruelling Mission.

You fail to anticipate your own moves when you hear Natasha returning from the Kitchen area of the Compound. Before you have time to think, your mouth opens up to release your next statement, “Hey, Nat. Would you like to watch a movie or something? This episode is nearly done and I’m not quite ready to go to bed yet.” You attempt to place the reasonings behind your question on yourself, hoping that if there is something Natasha wants to talk about, that she will feel comfortable enough to do so if she feels as though you invited her to hang out with yourself; rather than her having to ask.

Natasha stops her movements at your words, a flood of relief building up inside herself at your question. She desperately wanted to ask you herself, but the nipping feeling of guilt from intrusion of your alone time played on her mind so much so that she was too afraid to stay in your company.

As the overwhelming emotion of reassurance takes over Natasha, she chooses to nod at your question; failing to hide the string of grateful tears that line her exhausted eyes and knowing a waver in her voice would give away her fear of the night.

When Natasha moves to round the couch, she can’t help but smile at your effort to clear the perfect space for her to join you.

You instantly begin a clear down of the area, removing stray pieces of popcorn that somehow fell from your grasp during your Cupcake Wars marathon. You move to straighten up the charcoal tinted pillows; fluffing them up to mimic a comforting environment for Natasha to settle in to.

Once you look over your work and determine the couch to be satisfactory for Natasha, you dramatically wave for her to sit down. To which she does with an eye roll and a laugh.

As you reach for the TV remote and settle into your previous spot on the couch, Natasha sets her cup of water on the coffee table, waiting for you to choose the perfect movie for the two of you to watch together.

Though to her surprise, you stretch your arm out towards her, handing her the remote for control of the TV.

Natasha quirks a curious eyebrow at your gesture, “Y/n, what are you doing?”

You match her curious look at her question, “I want you to choose what we watch, Nat. Pick anything, I don’t mind.” You say with a comforting smile of reassurance.

Natasha hesitantly removes the remote from your outstretched hand, studying the array of buttons decorating it, “Are you sure? This is your time to-“

You interrupt Natasha, remembering the countless times she has been refused a choice on movie night, due to Tony’s unfair system of choosing the designated movie of the night- somehow it always ends up being one of his favourites…

“Natasha, I am more than positive that I want you to choose. Plus, this is our shared time to hang out, pick anything you would like.”

Natasha stares at you for a moment longer, attempting to detect a hint of change in your answer. When she realises you’re serious in your offer, she uses the the button to scroll through endless amounts of movie titles that all blend into a colourful blur after a minute or two.

That is until her eyes land on one of her comfort movies- Moonraker.

She allows the remote’s cursor to hover over the poster assigned to the James Bond movie on the list available, determining her options on how to approach asking you if this was an acceptable choice.

You soon notice the longing of the highlighted movie choice on the screen and the conflicted features crossing Natasha’s face as she has her own mental battle.

You turn yourself to gather Natasha’s attention, “Hey, is this the movie you want to watch?” You gently ask, trying not to push her in any way.

Natasha fidgets with the remote in her hands as she ponders a response, “Yeah, it’s a comfort movie. Is that okay?” She asks you calculatedly, worried you’ll reject the idea.

You reach over the back of the couch for a blanket left behind from a previous movie night, styling it out to cover yourself, “Of course it is, I’d love to watch it with you Natasha. Put it on,” You say as you tap the open space next you, alongside a lift of the blanket, intended to cover Natasha with.

Natasha wastes no time in pressing play to start the movie as she slides across the couch and into your embrace. What may seem as a small gesture to you, is a relieving gesture for Natasha.

Not only have you granted her the comfort of her go to movie of all time, but embracing her in a warm manner heightens the idea of Natasha being truly safe within the Compound.

As the two of you snuggle into the couch in anticipation of watching the movie; all the previous, dark thoughts from earlier in the night have evaded Natasha’s mind completely.

Hopefully it remains that way.

——-

Just as the final scene of the movie commences; the end credits begin to roll out on the screen, signifying the end of the action-packed sequence.

Natasha continues to watch the screen in a dazed state, happily losing herself within the familiar scenes of Moonraker.

However, she comes back to her senses once she feels you stretch your body out from beneath her, having cuddled up to you closer and closer as the movie has played.

You quickly finish stretching your arms and legs out, you take a moment to glance at your watch and release a low whistle at the time illuminating your watch face, “Wow, 4 am already? Shit, sorry Nat, I didn’t mean to keep you up so long.” You start to push yourself up from the cushioned layer of the couch, signalling for Natasha to move up also.

As she discards the blanket aside, a wave of uneasiness settles within her. She doesn’t want to go back to bed now, she dreads to think of what horrors await her in her dreams once she closes her eyes again. She was beginning to feel safe in your company, but now you’re readying yourself to go to bed, she’s terrified that you’ll leave her alone with her thoughts.

With her endless thoughts of torment, she stares at the now blank TV in thought. You notice her vacant expression, allowing you to kneel down in front of her and gently place your hands on her knees.

Natasha jumps slightly at your touch, however she soon places her hands on top of yours to signal that your comforting efforts are welcome, “Natasha, are you ready to head back to bed?” You ask cautiously, remaining ignorant to the issue at hand.

Natasha rubs her soft hands across the delicate skin of yours as she goes to speak, “You know, we’ve still got a bit of time to hang out before the others get up. We could try some of that new tea brand Tony bought as a trial for the Team; we could watch another movie, there’s plenty of James Bond movies for you to catch up on-“

Your eyes scan Natasha’s face as she rambles out endless ways in which the two of you should stay up for a little bit longer, “Natasha-“

Natasha shakes her head as she continues her plea, desperate for you to agree with her and stay up, “Oh, I could show you how to do those Dutch braids you like in your hair. You’re always saying how much you want to learn-“

“Natasha!”

The raise in your voice throws Natasha out of her rant, unwillingly sending a pang of fear into her chest.

As you recognise the disheartening features spreading across Natasha’s persona, you make an effort to rub reassuring circles on her arms, encouraging her to relax, “What’s going on? Why are you so adamant for us to stay up?”

Natasha fails to conceal the tears that line her eyes once again, frustration making itself known, “I can’t tell you, you’ll think I’m being ridiculous.” She whispers out, not caring that you’re seeing her in what she’d consider a weakened state.

You move to sit next to her closely, wrapping a protective arm around her, “Natasha, I could never think you’re ridiculous. You’re the strongest person I know, and if something is upsetting you this much- to the point where you don’t want me to go to bed, then I want to do everything in my power to help you. I promise you, I won’t judge you, I just want to help.”

Natasha allows her tears of despair to run down her face as she looks at you, understanding the sincerity of your words. She chooses to confide in you, “Ever since I could remember, I’ve had the most horrific dreams from my time in the Red Room, and even from certain Missions. They feel so real, I hear the pain from past victims of my actions; the drilling voices of those who kept me in the Red Room and made me what I am today-“

You give Natasha the room to talk, hating the fact you didn’t pick up on her suffering sooner- though this is Natasha Romanoff, when she wants to hide something, she does so without a trace.

“Usually when I wake up, everyone else is asleep so I just wait until someone else wakes up and pretend I got up early to train or something. No one ever notices, I hide it well, just like I’ve been taught to all these years. Then tonight, you were here, and I just felt safe and secure, you just know how to make me feel calm and appreciated. I’m sorry for putting this on you y/n, I just wanted to feel safe.”

You turn away briefly from Natasha to hide your own tears upon hearing her pain, with one deep breath you move to rest your forehead on top of Natasha’s fiery red locks, “Natasha, you’re not putting anything on me okay. I mean it when I say I want to do everything in my power to make you feel safe. I understand why you wanted to stay up longer, but do you think if we go to bed in my room or something, you might feel safe enough to sleep?”

Natasha slowly lifts her head up from under yours to catch your gaze, “You’d do that for me?”

You instantly nod, “Of course I will, I’ll do anything for you Natasha.”

Natasha bites her lip at your words, never having believed she could be so lucky to have someone like you in her life, “Thank you y/n. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

You pick yourself up from the couch and hold a supportive hand out to Natasha, which she gladly takes. Once you have switched all the necessary devices off in the living area and kitchen, you guide Natasha to your bedroom, “I think I do, but you’re still going to teach me how to braid my hair right?” You question Natasha, earning a light chuckle from her.

“I suppose I can look over my very busy schedule and fit you in somewhere.” Natasha lets out, allowing the anxieties of the night to vacate her mind.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of room in your schedule for your favourite person.” You reply, mindlessly following the corridors to your designated area of the compound.

Once you arrive at your door, Natasha raises a tired yet questioning brow, “Who said you were my favourite?”

You give her a light shrug, “I just know you can’t argue with logic.”

Natasha smirks as she moves into your room, noticing the minor details scattered across the area that makes the room entirely yours, once you move to switch your bedside lamp on to highlight the features more.

Natasha stands in the middle of the room, hesitant to move anywhere without your word.

You make quick work of straightening out your bed for Natasha; hiding any loose items that are long overdue their clean up as you refuse to admit the last time your room had a good clean out.

“Okay, the bed is ready for you. I’ll take the couch-“

Natasha frowns at your words, “We’re not sharing?”

You stop your actions as you attempt to make the couch into a makeshift bed for the night, “I don’t mind taking the couch honestly, it’s… comfy.” You say in an unconvincing tone, earning an eye roll from Natasha.

“Come on, we can share the bed, I don’t bite.” Natasha says as she eagerly settles into your soft and comforting sheets.

You silently release a breath of relief, having saved your back from a rough night of sleep on the outdated couch lumbered in your room.

Once you switch off your light, you easily slide into the other side of the bed, next to Natasha. Allowing your body to relax itself into your heavenly, cushioned mattress.

Assuming the sudden silence was reserved for sleeping, you close your eyes and bask in your comforting surroundings. Until a voice fills the hushed atmosphere, “Are you still awake?”

You release a relaxed breath as you go to reply, “Yeah, are you?”

Natasha releases a laugh from beside you, “Who do you think asked you doofus.” Natasha teases.

You roll on your side to face Natasha, using the minor elements of moonlight seeping through your blinds to study Natasha’s magnificent features, “Well J.A.R.V.I.S is quite the conversationalist at night, so pardon me for being curious to whom I am addressing Romanoff.” You say in the most serious tone you can muster- extremely low severity.

Natasha smiles brightly at your lightheartedness, “Sometimes I do wonder about you y/l/n.”

You tilt your head in challenge at Natasha’s words, “Oh yeah? What do you wonder about Nat?”

Natasha’s features fall into a stoic nature as she thinks of what to say, “I wonder how someone as loving and caring as you, would willingly want to hang around with someone like me?”

Your body shifts in discomfort at her words, sensing a tone of insecurity, “Someone like you? That’s not a bad thing Natasha.”

Natasha nods at your words, “It is, y/n, I know how people see me. Some ruthless monster who’s only worth is that of being a product of the Red Room. An assassin, produced to kill without fear or hesitation-“

You abruptly push yourself up to study Natasha in disbelief, “Natasha, that’s your nightmares talking. The Natasha I know, the real Natasha is so kind, considerate and incredible. You never fail to care for those around you. Hell, I bet you’ve saved more lives being an Avenger, than lives you were forced to take under the Red Room. Natasha you’re worth so much more than a brand under the Red Room.”

Natasha looks away from you as you continue your truths, having only her nightmares confirm her greatest fears.

“Natasha, you do realise none of the past was your fault. The Red Room took you, melted your mind and melded it into something cruel. It wasn’t your fault they did that to you and it certainly isn’t your fault that they controlled you to a point where you weren’t even of a conscious mind to understand the consequences of the actions they ordered you to do.”

You gently cup Natasha’s face and instantly swipe away a pained tear escaping her eye, “You’re not a monster, you’re a hero- my hero. Nat, you inspire me to be the best Avenger I can be. You inspire so many people around the world to protect others and do what is right. If I ever hear anyone saying anything different, I’ll kick their ass.” You add for good measure, earning a dry chuckle from Natasha.

“You’re not part of the Red Room, you’re Natasha Romanoff- Avenger, Hero and quite honestly the best thing this Planet has ever given us-“

Your words of wisdom are cut off once Natasha attaches her lips to yours, fulfilling every ounce of gratitude into one delicate and addictive kiss.

As Natasha slowly pulls away, she can’t help but bite her lip in amusement at your dazed features, “You can breathe you know y/n.”

You blink extremely slowly as your mind is sent into a frenzy of pure happiness, “Um, what were we talking about?” You suddenly ask, not knowing what else to do under the current circumstances.

Natasha pulls you down onto the bed as she moves to rest her head on your chest- its rightful space, “I’m pretty sure we were talking about how you’re my favourite person?” Natasha playfully adds.

You nod along as you pull Natasha closer towards you, “Hmm, that does sound accurate.”

With a quick mumble of ‘dork’ from Natasha, the two of you settle down for a night of slumber. Finding safety and security in each other’s arms.

——-

Soft, delicate finger tipped brushes against your rib cage wake you up from your relaxed slumber.

As your eyes flutter open, they meet ethereal green irises as they study your sleepy state.

Natasha leans up to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, allowing you to release a sigh of content at the comforting gesture, “Good morning, y/n/n.”

You sleepily smile at the sound of Natasha’s raspy voice, never failing to have your heart fluttering in excitement, “Good morning Nat, how did you sleep?” You nervously ask, hoping with every ounce of your being that she was able to rest after her nightmares.

Natasha initially responds with a glamorous smile, allowing you to replicate it to the same effect, “That was probably the best sleep I’ve had in over ten years.” She giddily lets out.

You pull her into your embrace, “No nightmares?”

Natasha nods to confirm, “No nightmares.”

You place an ecstatic kiss on the crown of her head, over the moon with the possibility that Natasha may be able to escape her nightmares.

“You know, maybe we should make this sleepover thing a permanent thing?” You ask sleepily.

Natasha hums at your words, “Well, I don’t see why not. Your bed is pretty comfortable.”

You laugh at Natasha's choice of comfort, “What about the person you’re currently cuddling?”

Natasha shrugs lightly, “I suppose they’re okay, the cuddles are a bonus.”

You smile at her words, “Well maybe I’ll have to deduct the cuddle clause from the agreement.”

Natasha tightens her grip on your body impossibly tight, “Try it and you’ll see why they say my Widow Bite Stings pack a nasty punch.”

“Oh well, we wouldn’t want to test that out.”

“Nope.” Natasha replies as she settles back into your embrace.

You allow a few seconds to pass before you bring up your next question, “What if-“

“No.” Natasha says with a flick of her fingers delivered to your forehead, eager to have you sleep in a little bit longer.

It’s safe to say that Natasha Romanoff is most definitely your favourite person.

—————————

Taglist: @beefromanoff

#natasha romanoff #marvel #mcu #black widow #natasha romanoff one shot #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fan fic #slightly smarter nat’s writing #slightly smarter nat #slightly smarter nat’s requests #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #natasha x reader #anon request #black widow x reader #avenger reader #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic

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starshideurfics · 19 days

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Thirsty Thursday - Throat

steddie, getting together, aob, neck kink

Like, he gets it. Eddie knows that it’s borderline prude behavior to think this way. Steve was on the swim team for chrissakes, so it isn’t like he’s shy about his body.

But his neck is ALWAYS on display. Showing off those pretty moles, the hard lines of his ligaments, the prominence of his adam’s apple, the slight swell of his mating gland peeking over his shirt collar.

Eddie can’t help staring, but he tries his best to hide his glances.

Even on the days Steve wears collared shirts—and he mostly does, what with all the polos—it’s like he’s trying to draw attention to the parts of his neck that remain uncovered.

It especially doesn’t help that they’ve been dancing around each other for months, flirting openly.

Eddie only does when they’re with other people, an excuse to pass it off as a joke.

A way to protect his heart by convincing himself Steve is kidding, too.

At least until he goes home, and in the darkness of his own room he lets his mind wander to the beauty of Steve’s throat.

He holds the sleep tee Steve borrowed the last time he crashed at the trailer because he was too faded to drive home, the earthy smell of weed mixing with his cherrywood scent and going right to Eddie’s head.

It takes less than a minute for him to come in his fist, the image of Steve presenting his throat for Eddie’s teeth spurring him on and filling his knot.

His face burns with shame as he reaches for tissues to clean the mess, then he drifts to sleep and dreams of traded bites.

Dreams of sweeter words whispered at his ear as Steve welcomes him into the hot clutch of his body.

He wakes up hard or sticky or both most days.

But now they’re hanging out, just the two of them since Robin finally got her shit together and has a date. He and Steve spent an hour reassuring her that everything would be fine and giving her tips. She just left to meet Chrissy at the Hawk for the movie portion of their date.

Steve is leaning back in his chair, staring up at Eddie with the softest hint of a smile. “Whatcha thinking ‘bout?” he asks, never taking his eyes off the alpha.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Nothing, um, not a thing.”

“Liar.”

He sputters, dropping into the chair next to Steve’s as he chokes. “I’m not. Steve-”

“Eddie.” Steve’s eyes are hard. Serious as he sits up and sensually drags his fingers across his collarbone. “I know you’ve been looking at me.” He shrugs out of his jacket.

Angles his chin to draw his eye along the line of his throat. “But I don’t think you know how I’ve been looking at you.”

Eddie chokes again, manages to squeak, “What?” as Steve gets to his feet. He’s sure his scent has gone bitter in his confusion.

“When you put your hair up,” Steve murmurs, deft fingers gathering Eddie’s brushed out curls to hold at the back of his head. “Then I get to look too, can smell you better.”

Swallowing hard, Eddie feels his throat bob, the motion drawing Steve’s dark eyes.

“Looking at you makes my teeth hurt,” Eddie whispers, breathing through his mouth and showing off his descended fangs. “You’re so fucking perfe—”

Everything moves so fast then: Steve drops into his lap, nose nuzzling his neck as he breathes deep. Moans, “Eddie, please.”

His mouth finds its way to Steve’s neck, sucks a hickey below his ear before their lips ever meet.

—

After that, Steve keeps his neck more covered. At least his mating gland for sure is hidden by his shirt collar.

It’s just for his alpha now.

#steddie #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #ficlet #thirsty thursday

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hyperfixatedfandomer · 8 months

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Avatar: Frontiers of Pandora — what do we know about the plot and the lore?

Since many atwow fans, especially here on tumblr, seem to be unaware or not caught up on the new avatar game coming out in two months I thought I’d make this post and spill tea about all the juicy details!

First things first, let me respond to the biggest question you might have:

When is frontiers of Pandora happening, in terms of cannon time-line?

FoP is confirmed to be cannon to the movie franchise and plays out first during the events of the first movie, directly impacted by Jake’s battle in the hallelujah mountains and then continues playing out 15 years later, during the events of avatar the way of water.

What’s the story?

The character we play as is a young, unnamed Na’vi of either female or male sex (judging by promo images), depending on what you choose in the beginning of the game. Their fate is a tragic one, as MC, who lives in the west hemisphere of Pandora is kidnapped from their home by the RDA, together with many other children.

The captives unwillingly become part of T.A.P, or “The Ambassador Program”, and for years go through constant brainwashing and cruel treatment, all to become perfect "ambassadors" of RDA and enforce its propaganda, most likely through force.

They become soldiers, taught the weaponry and war tactics of humans, all under the rule of a frankly mentally unstable man named John Mercer.

(Yes this is him yelling at an 8 year old)

John Mercer is the presumed overseer of the site, controlling the project and acts as the main villain of the game.

When battle of the Hallelujah Mountains occurs and the site looses contact with hell’s gate after it gets attacked by rogue avatars and scientists, the staff sounds the alarm and humans rush to evacuate from Pandora, afraid that Omatikaya will find the base and attack them next. In their rush, John Mercer commands his goons to get rid of the evidence of T.A.P program, namely killing all the Na’vi children they abducted years prior.

They don’t get to do that however, as MC’s teacher, an avatar that has spent years teaching the children human subjects, shoots the guards dead in panic, leading her students to what presumably is an emergency bunker equipped with cryopods, and puts her students, including the MC to sleep so as they get to escape the wrath of John Mercer’s men and fly under their radar.

And there they remained for the next 15 years, un disturbed in their slumber until an unknown factor triggered their pod and it opened, waking MC from their sleep and, for the first time in years, they walk free.

But after an eternity in RDA’s clutches, the main character has forgotten all about their roots and customs. It is up to them now to reconnect with their home and become a true Na’vi once more, with the help of many characters we’ll meet along the way, young and old, from a number of new clans we had never seen before.

(I’m mostly excited about this old lady, she seems chill af and I like her fit)

But the healing arc is only part of the story, as we know that the RDA canonically comes back 15 years after the battle in the mountains. This time, they’re stronger, meaner, and right back at their business, so it’s up to us, the player, to establish a resistance in the west and fight off the aliens who once more infested Eywa’s lands. John Mercer is, unsurprisingly, also back, though thankfully not as a recombinant.

Okay so what is the EXACT time the main story plays out?

The story plays out the year 2169 according to the timeline, which is about the same time the Omatikaya perform a train raid we see in the movie. The RDA has established their base (Bridgehead) in the east and is trying to expand its operations to the western frontier, which is where the MC comes in. As a "child of two worlds", the character can use both the classic Na’vi weaponry as well as human firearms and traps of all kinds. Ironically the RDA, through its cruelty, had created a formidable enemy that knows ins and outs of their thinking similarly to Jake Sully.

Hold up so, if FoP and Atwow happen parallel to each other, does it mean that we’ll get to meet the movie characters and interact with them?

I can’t say for sure. Geographically, the game and the movie play out in two different hemispheres, which greatly brings down the chance of meeting any of the characters we know face to face. However, it is more than likely that the game will expand on the movie lore and we’ll get to find out more about Jake’s operations, as well as the operations of RDA (including the recom program).

Here is the link to the overview trailer of the game that will cover the info I wrote above and some more.

I heavily recommend that you check out the game, as it looks extremely promising so far and I can’t be more hyped! If you got any more questions, feel free to drop them into my ask box!

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hyunjinslittlestar · 3 months

Text

The Spooks

Word Count: 4.5K

Genre: Lee Minho x reader, fluff, established relationship

Summary: You make a bet with Seungmin that you'll watch an entire horror movie this Halloween, the only problem is....you hate horror.

Author note: Hey guys, I'm so sorry this came out so late. I started an internship at the beginning of this year that has kept me super busy and I'm a perfectionist so it took me longer to edit this than I would have liked. Thanks for still sticking around and reading my stuff. Much love!

Your feet stomp across the kitchen tiles as you grumble, "I'm coming. I’m coming.”

Opening the microwave door, you silence the obnoxious ringing as the sweet smell of popcorn wafts into the kitchen. Grabbing the bag by the edges, you gently set it onto the counter. As you stand on your tiptoes, you open the wooden cupboard beside you and scan through the different colored bowls neatly stacked inside. Picking out your favorite one, you pull out a teal bowl painted with little susuwataries Hyunjin made for Felix’s birthday last year.

You find yourself smiling at the fond memory. That night had definitely been a highlight of 2022 for everyone. You’d all grown a little closer while you sat around the bonfire at the beach that night. The nine of you sharing heartfelt feelings, embarrassing stories and laughter with flushed, rosy cheeks from the alcohol. You wished you could go back to the good ol days when your only worries were school assignments and monthly dance and singing evaluations.

Tugging the bag open, you watch the steam form wispy clouds that swirl about before dispersing into thin air. A small smile tugs at your lips as you peek inside the bag. Perfectly white, crisped kernels look up at you before you dump the contents into the bowl, proudly making your way back into the living room.

You find Minho sitting on the edge of the couch leaning forward with his arms propped onto his knees. The remote practically dangles from his fingers as he lets out a dramatic sigh. Ruffling his black hair, he pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he continues to scroll through the endless list of movies on Netflix.

“Sooo,” you start, throwing some popcorn into your mouth as you plop down beside him. “What are we going to watch tonight?"

Turning to face you, the deep furrow in Minho’s eyebrows softens into a warm smile as he falls back onto the couch. Casually slinging his arm around you, his other hand grabs a handful of popcorn. In between chews he says, "I was thinking we could watch a horror movie in honor of it being Halloween."

He redirects his gaze towards the TV screen as he finds the horror section. You nearly choke on your popcorn, forcefully gulping down the popped kernel. The ends claw its way down the sides of your throat as if it were desperately trying to escape the clutches of your stomach. Just like you suddenly wanted to find a way out of this situation. Clearing your throat, you grab the water bottle you’d left on the coffee table and take a small sip.

"Horror?" you meekly whisper as you set it back down.

"Yeah," he says, turning to face you. "Is that okay?"

"Um, you know what," you say as you place the popcorn bowl beside your water. “I’m feeling pretty tired.” Feigning a yawn you stretch out your arms. “I think I should start heading home. Sorry Min, we'll have to do this tomo—.”

But before you can even properly stand up, Minho grabs you by the waist and pulls you back down beside him. Curse Minho and his quick reflexes.

"Yah," he playfully scolds, his tone sending a shiver down your spine as his hands hold your arms in place. "You can’t be tired. You were just dancing and belting the lyrics to ‘Pop!’ as the popcorn cooked and then you started the full ‘Super’ choreo. You said you had so much energy you didn’t know what to do with yourself.”

You blink in surprise back at Minho. So he had been paying attention to you earlier despite his nonchalance. Shaking away the swooning thoughts plaguing your mind, you redirect your attention back to the conversation. “Well,” you huff, recomposing yourself. “I figured out where to put my energy and now I’m drained.”

“What about your bet with Kim Seungmin? What was all that talk four hours ago when you told him you were going to prove him wrong and sit through an entire horror film this Halloween?”

You were about to correct him that it was the only way to make Seungmin stop calling you a chicken but you swallow your pride as Minho’s eyes pin you in place. “Secondly,” his gaze softens as he looks between your eyes, a sharp contrast to the firm hands still securely wrapped around both your arms. “I wanted to spend this Halloween with you, not by myself."

Your heart can't help but flutter at his words before erratically beating in fear as you glance back at the screen. "Uh, well. I mean. I guess since it's Halloween we could—.”

Minho cocks his head. ”Are you scared?" he mocks you as a teasing smile spreads across his lips.

"Me? Scared?" you scoff. "I don’t get scared that easily,” you retort before slowly sinking further into the couch, regretting what was yet to come.

"If you say so," Minho chuckles. "In that case, I'll make sure to pick the scariest movie" he adds as his eyes study yours intently.

Biting your lip, you stubbornly reply, "Y-you don't have to pick the scariest movie. Just scary is fine too."

His eyes twinkle in amusement as he cocks up an eyebrow. "Okay. How about…," he pauses as he continues to scroll through the list of movies, the images becoming even more terrifying than the ones before.

You start to look around the room, avoiding the screen.

"Ah! How about this one?" Minho says excitedly, pointing to the TV.

"The Medium?" you squint as you try to read the title without looking at the overall image.

He turns to face you, the skin around his eyes crinkling as a wide bunny smile emerges. "I haven't watched it yet.”

You swallow hard as you force yourself to look at the ominous woman smiling on the screen before redirecting your gaze towards Minho. If that was something he really wanted to watch, you couldn't ruin his Halloween just because you were slightly scared. Sucking up your fear, you reluctantly agree to his proposition.

"Yeaaahhh!" Minho cheers as he stuffs his mouth with more popcorn before jumping up from the couch. "I'll go turn off the lights," he smiles with puffed cheeks as he practically skips over to the light switch.

"Yeah, let's turn off the lights too. As if the movie isn't scary enough," you mutter in annoyance as you quickly get up to grab a soft, fluffy blanket stored in a small basket near the couch.

Curling up onto the sofa, you make sure the soft blanket covers every bit of your body so that none of your limbs get left out in the open. You didn't want to risk being vulnerable to any sneak attacks of otherworldly creatures during the duration of the film. Minho comes back and sits beside you. "You look like a burrito," he comments.

"Yah!" you slap his chest, breaking free from the perfect cocoon you had created.

Letting out a lighthearted chuckle, he adds, "a cute burrito," before affectionately placing a kiss onto your forehead.

"Whatever," you playfully roll your eyes as you feel a familiar warmth spread across your cheeks.

Snuggling up into his chest, he drapes his arm over your back as his hand comfortably rests against your waist. As soon as the opening starts, a loud clash from the orchestra playing in the background makes you jump. Cursing your jittery state, you pray Minho didn't notice. But of course, he always seemed to catch you in your most vulnerable moments.

"The movie hasn't even started yet and you're already jumpy?" he teases, pulling you closer.

"Shut up," you huff, adjusting your head onto his chest as you mentally prepare your palpitating heart for whatever else this movie was about to throw your way. The popcorn could wait.

As the storyline progresses, you subtly begin to pull the blanket higher and higher up your chest. Once you were about twenty minutes into the film, the blanket was practically resting underneath your eyes. When you can’t handle it any longer, you pull the blanket entirely over your head. It didn’t matter if Minho never let you live this down. If staying under the blanket meant you had a chance at sleeping through half the night, then it was worth every teasing remark he’d throw your way for the next few months.

Oddly enough, he remained silent. The only sound from outside your little safe haven being the worried voices whispering back and forth on the TV.

You slowly peek your head out from beneath the blanket, expecting Minho to be smirking down at you. However, to your surprise, he’s completely engrossed in the film. His eyes widen at the images flashing about the screen as his lips slowly part in shock.

Momentarily forgetting why you were hiding underneath the blanket in the first place, you find it difficult to look away from Minho's cute, dazed state. You can’t help but be reminded of how handsome your boyfriend truly is. Your eyes slowly trace his features as you admire the way his bangs fall over his eyes, the way his nose cutely scrunches up in disapproval at what you could only assume was a character doing something stupid and the adorable way his lips protruded into a slight frown.

Feeling your gaze, his eyes slowly meet yours. You feel your breath softly hitch in your throat. An endearing smile tugs at Minho’s lips as he watches your cheeks flush a bright red. “Why aren’t you watching the movie?” he teases. “Can’t get enough of me?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“You make me feel safe,” you blurt out honestly.

Minho’s eyes slightly widen as he feels his ears grow warm, however, as always, he’s quick to recover his composure. His signature playful smile tugs at his lips. “If you think that’s going to get you out of watching the movie, you’ll have to try a little harder.”

“I’m not trying to—,” an unexpected scream from the film makes you jump.

Without a second thought, you crawl onto his lap and bury your face into the crook of his neck. The thought of defending your pride flying out the window. Minho, surprised at your sudden reaction, looks down at your shaking figure as you tightly clutch onto his shirt. As the music grows even more eerie, your arms find their way around his torso begging to be held and protected from the horrifying images behind you.

"What happened to not being scared?" he whispers into your hair, a playful smile adorning his lips.

Looking up at him, you push back the sudden tears stinging your eyes as you muster up all the courage you can. "I'm not...SCARED!" your voice hitches as another loud screech emits from the TV causing you to find comfort in his chest once again.

Minho chuckles to himself as he tightly wraps his strong arms around you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he leans down, his soft lips brushing against your cheek. "I'll protect you 자기야 (baby)," he whispers.

The unexpected deep tone of his voice sends your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies as your already alarmingly quick heart rate speeds up. And Minho is true to his word. As the film continues, his grip never loosens around your waist as he mindlessly draws shapes across your lower back. His actions lull you into a sleepy state as Minho’s steady heartbeat pats a familiar lullaby against your ear.

An hour and a half later, you don’t stir until Minho whispers in a sweet tone, “Y/N."

"Hmm," you respond, not bothering to open your eyes in fear that you might see your new nightmares within the dark shadows of the house.

“Did you enjoy your little nap?”

You let out a soft scoff. “It’s hard to fall asleep with a soundtrack like that,” you mutter bitterly.

"Well, now that you’ve had your beauty rest, why don’t you let me turn on the lights," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

That’s when you finally open your eyes. The house is completely immersed in darkness and you mentally curse your curiosity as your eyes begin to form disturbing shapes within the shadows of the room. You vigorously shake your head, refusing to move.

Minho lets out a sigh before effortlessly picking you up with him as he slowly walks around the couch. One hand fumbles about the wall in search of the light switch as the other firmly grasps you wrapped around his waist. Flipping it on, the room is engulfed with a bright light. You finally lift your head up, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as you gently slide down to the ground. You keep your arms loosely around his waist, refusing to give up the protection of his body.

“You’ll have to let go of me eventually, Y/N,” Minho says with a smug grin.

“Well, eventually is not right now,” you stubbornly reply back.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

The color immediately drains from your face as you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. “Do you actually have to go?” you meekly ask.

“What if I did?” Minho bites back a smile, an amused glint in his eyes.

You let out a deep sigh as you reluctantly take a step back. “I guess I’ll be brave then.”

“That’s not what Kim Seungmin is going to think.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” your eyebrows furrow in offense.

“Oh,” Minho leans down so that you’re both eye level with one another. “But I would,” he devilishly grins.

Crossing your arms, you glare back at him. “I hate you.”

Straightening up, Minho gives you a knowing smile.

“What?” you grumble. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Minho teasingly shrugs. “It’s just that, that’s not what it looked like on the couch earlier,” he says, a smug grin tugging at his lips.

You bite back a smile as you roll your eyes. “Whatever. I’m not doing this anymore. Are you going to go to the bathroom or not?”

Minho dramatically taps his chin in thought. “I think I’ve changed my mind.” Pulling out his phone from his back pocket he continues, “I think I’m going to let Kim Seungmin know how it went instead.”

Before you can even protest, Minho's phone buzzes. “Speak of the devil. He’s asking for an update.”

Panic settles in as he dangles the phone in front of you. You reach out to grab it but Minho’s one step ahead of you, easily avoiding your grasp as you begin to chase him around the room.

“Min, get back here,” you laugh as he sprints to the other side of the couch.

“What was all that talk of ‘just you wait, Seungmin. I’m going to watch my first horror movie this year and prove you wrong’?” he mocks you as you throw a pillow his way. Dodging behind the couch, he re-emerges as he bursts into a fit of giggles.

“Yah!” you protest. “I said I wasn’t scared!” you add, knowing full well that this was in no way helping your argument.

“Really? ‘Cause the ‘I’m not…SCARED’,” Minho imitates you in a high-pitched voice, “was so convincing.” He bursts into laughter as your shocked expression turns into an irritated scowl.

“I wasn’t that scared,” you argue, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

He had done a pretty impressive job imitating you, although, you’d never openly admit that. Just as Minho is about to comment on your choice of words, you run around the couch to try and snatch the phone out of his hand. But, once again, Minho is quick on his feet as he dodges you.

“Come on, Min,” you sigh, tired of chasing him around the room. “Please don’t tell him.”

“And why’s that?” Minho snickers. “Are you finally admitting you lost the bet?”

You close your eyes as you muster up the will to swallow your pride. “Yes. I am.”

Minho’s lips part in surprise as he leans against the wall clearly amused with the turn of events.

“It would hurt my pride even more if he heard it from you. So let me tell Seungmin myself.”

Minho’s eyes look up as he thinks the proposition over. “콜(deal).”

You sigh in relief.

“You think you can handle losing though?” he cocks an eyebrow at you.

His choice of words jab at your pride even more. Minho knows how competitive you are, he’s the exact same way. He’d do anything to avoid giving Seungmin the satisfaction of having bragging rights over him for a month. So he can’t help but be piqued by the way you give in so easily.

“A bet’s a bet. I lost so I’ll own up to it,” you nod, determined.

“Oohhh, that’s my baby,” Minho winks at you.

You feel your cheeks flush at the pet name, but your expression quickly sours as Minho sing-songs, “Can’t wait for later tonight.”

You roll your eyes as Minho lets out a light-hearted chuckle. Putting his phone away, he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. The change in demeanor completely catches you off guard as Minho leans down and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. “알았어 (Okay), 알았어 (okay),” he smiles. “I’ll stop with the teasing.”

You finally wrap your arms around him, allowing him to gently sway you back and forth.

“But genuinely, Y/N,” he says against your head. “I’m proud of you. God knows I could never swallow my pride that easily.”

You erupt into laughter against Minho’s chest and the sound is enough to bring the biggest, foolish grin onto his face. Pulling away from you, Minho unabashedly admires the way your entire face has lit up.

“True,” you say as you look up at him, giving his torso a playful squeeze. But when your eyes meet Minho’s, you freeze.

You can feel the heat rising up to your cheeks as you watch his eyes begin to slowly trail over each of your features. Minho looks at you with such fondness, it feels like he’s embedding every little detail about you into his brain.

“What?” you shyly whisper.

Pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, Minho’s hand lingers by your chin as he shakes his head. “Nothing. I just want to look at you.”

You bite your lip to hold back a nervous laugh. This was both the cutest and most mortifying interaction you’d ever shared. As much as you wish you could just be present in the moment, you can’t help but grow self-conscious. Noticing the little furrow forming between your eyebrows, Minho is quick to piece your internal dilemma together.

“Y/N?” he softly calls.

“Hmm?” you hum as you try to calm your pounding heart.

“I know it’s hard, but…let me love you as you are.”

Your eyes widen as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of red. His words weren’t just addressing your current situation, they were hinting at the first time you’d shared with him how difficult it was for you to allow yourself to be loved. When Minho had first heard that, instead of running away, he did everything in his power to show you little by little how worthy you were of being loved.

Even now, when you wanted to laugh off his words and shy away, he gently pulled you closer. Minho wanted to show you that the lies you told yourself every day were just that, lies. He wanted to help you discover what he saw in you every day–the way your eyes would light up when he taught you a new dance move, the way you bit your lips whenever you were concentrating, or the fact that every time he heard you laugh, he couldn’t help but laugh along with you.

You look up at him, trying to find some hint of teasing in his eyes but there was none. “You can trust me, Y/N,” he smiles as his thumb gently caresses your cheek.

Leaning into his touch, you look back and forth between his eyes as you process the weight of his words. Mustering up the little courage inside of you, you softly mutter, “Okay.”

An endearing smile spreads across Minho’s face as he slowly leans in and plants the gentlest of kisses against your lips. You can’t help but melt into his touch as your hands bunch up his shirt by his hips. Minho slowly tilts his head to deepen the kiss as his other hand comes up to cup the other side of your cheek. Minho knows kissing is still fairly new to you so he gently guides you, his lips confidently moving across your tentative ones. As he gently pulls away, Minho can’t help but chuckle at your dazed expression as your eyes linger on his lips. Leaving his hands cupped around your cheeks, Minho whispers, “I love you.”

A shy smile spreads across your lips as you stand on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck. “I love you too.”

The wide toothy grin that spreads across Minho’s face from those three special words and the way his eyes gaze at you with such adoration leaves you breathless. Minho really loved you. Despite your inexperience with love, despite still struggling to love yourself, and despite your insecurities, Minho was still happily and willingly choosing to love you, choosing you, every day. He wasn’t running away.

As you look back and forth between Minho’s eyes, you can’t help but mirror the same wide smile on his face. You felt so seen and so loved by him, you hoped you could make Minho feel the same.

“Come on, let’s go eat some candy,” Minho tilts his head towards the kitchen.

“You bought candy?” you ask excitedly.

“Of course I did,” Minho laughs. “What would Halloween be without it?”

“True,” you nod. “I just didn’t know if we were already getting too old to be eating candy on Halloween.”

“No one’s ever too old for candy,�� he smiles as he holds out his hand to you.

You gladly take it as you practically skip beside him towards the kitchen. All your fears from the horror movie had been completely forgotten. You were too high off of Minho’s kiss and declaration of love to let anything bring you down.

As you make your way into the kitchen, you catch a glimpse of a figure glimmering in the moonlight from the corner of your eye. It seeps in through the large window over the sink inside the dark room. Suddenly everything from the movie rushes to the forefront of your mind.

You hastily prod Minho with one hand while the other squeezes his other hand tighter. "W-who’s t-that?" you quietly stammer.

Minho looks up to see what you were talking about as his eyes catch sight of the mysterious form. Protectively, he stands in front of you, one hand firmly placed out in front of you while the other holds you closely behind him. Just as he's about to tackle the ominous looking figure, the lights flicker on leaving a wide eyed Seungmin and a stunned Minho.

Minho stares back at his frozen 남동생 (younger brother), a bowl full of candy tightly clutched against Seungmin’s chest. Seungmin lets out a guilty smile as he slowly hides it behind his back. "Trick or treat," he chuckles nervously, flashing them a puppy smile.

"Yah! Seungmin! You gave us a heart attack!" Minho huffs, crossing his arms. You bite your lips, trying to hold back a laugh. So you weren't the only one who was scared.

Seungmin chuckles as he goes up to Minho, squeezing his cheeks. "Awe, was our little bunny scared?"

"No!" Minho lies, swatting his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

Seungmin re-directs his attention towards you. “And you, did you keep your end of the bet?”

You look between Minho and Seungmin before finally giving in. “No,” you sigh.

“Ha! I told you you wouldn’t be able to sit through a whole movie!” Seungmin taunts. “And you said that–.”

“I mean technically I did…just in Minho’s arms,” you whip back quietly.

“...you’d prove me–.” Seungmin stops mid-sentence as his eyes widen. “Wait wait wait,” he says, looking between both Minho and you. “설마 (no way), you two were cuddling on the couch?” A teasing smirk pulls at Seungmin’s lips as Minho and you turn a darker shade of red.

“We weren’t like cuddling cuddling,” Minho starts as you vigorously shake your head in support.

“Ohmygosh, you guys totally were,” Seungmin laughs, enjoying the embarrassed expressions painted across Minho’s and your face. “Is that why you were so adamant about making that bet, Y/N? You wanted an excuse to cuddle with Minho?”

Minho clears his throat. “Anyways, why are you home?”

"What do you mean?” Seungmin remarks. “I told you I'd be back by ten," he points to the clock on the microwave. “Didn’t you see my text?”

"Oh. I must have missed it," he admits.

A smug grin pulls at Seungmin’s lips but before Minho can scold him any further, a disturbing realization suddenly sinks in. "Wait, Seungmin, if you were in here," he pauses, a loud gulp emitting from his throat. "Who turned on the lights?"

At those words, you feel a sinking feeling form at the pit of your stomach as the three of you slowly direct your attention towards the light switch. As your eyes reach the source, you find a beaming Jeongin waving his fingers at you.

"Aiisshh I.N-ah!” Minho says, placing his hand over his heart as you jump back, your side colliding with the edge of the counter. Wincing in pain, you force out a small smile at Jeongin as you try to calm your pounding heart and throbbing hip.

"Awe our little lovers are jumpy tonight," Jeongin laughs as he winks at you before poking Minho's side. “I was wondering when you guys were going to notice.”

As Jeongin makes his way towards the pantry, Minho lets out an exasperated sigh. "You too?" he asks, ruffling his hair. "When did you get back?"

"About ten minutes ago with Seungmin and Yongbok," Jeongin replies as he looks back and forth between the two packages of ramen he now held in his hands.

"Really? Yongbok is here too?" Minho asks in disbelief. As if on cue you hear Yongbok skip into the kitchen. “Oh, hello hyung! I didn’t know you were home?”

As soon as Yongbok’s round, bright eyes meet yours, a wide smile spreads across his lips. “Y/N! It’s been a while! How have you been?” he asks as he embraces you into a tight hug.

“It has! I’ve been good, how about you?”

Seungmin decides to use Yongbok as a distraction as he silently sidesteps his way out of the kitchen, the bowl of candy tightly clutched within his right hand.

Jeongin, who was still pondering over his ramen in the corner, finally smiles as his eyes light up at the beef flavored packet. "You," he whispers as he throws the chicken flavored pack back into the pantry.

Shaking his head, Minho pushes aside his confusion as he refocuses on the task at hand. "Okay, well we were just going to get some candy," Minho says as he opens up the pantry again. Looking for the bag of sweets, he ponders out loud, "where did it—. KIM SEUNGMIN!" Minho yells as Seungmin runs toward his room, giggling aloud to himself. "Yah! You have to share!" Minho sprints after him.

You watch in amusement as Minho charges after Seungmin.

Pulling out a pot, Jeongins says,"It might take a while before you get some candy.”

"Care for some ramen while we wait?" Yongbok asks as he goes to get himself a ramen packet as well.

You let out a soft giggle. "I would love that."

#stray kids #leeminho #leeknow skz #leeknow x reader #minho x reader #skzsnapshot #skz imagines #skz fluff #leeknow #stray kids fluff

117 notes · View notes

onboardsorasora · 2 months

Note

omg deaged daniel has my heart:(( he’ll feel so much more comfortable I bet once he gets to talk to his mom:((((

he does!! ok this is literally spiralling lmao!

De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Pt2 | Part 4

Max watched as Little Daniel watched him through his lashes as he made his calls. His sticky red ring pop was always close to his lips and Max could see how stained his tongue already was.

“Do you like ring pops?” Max asked kindly, Little Daniel makes eye contact for a moment before looking at Max’s shoulder again and nods. “I like them too, I love the green flavour.”

“‘Shell likes the green one.” Little Daniel offered softly.

“All the more red ones for you!” Max smiled when Little Daniel grinned.

“Ok so I ordered the pizza, would you like to play with the cats while I make another phonecall?”

“Your phone’s weird like the one’s in the movies.” Little Daniel mumbled. And Max figured that must be true, an iphone wasn’t exactly the current tech in 1994.

“It is, I’m still learning it too. May I lift you up Daniel?”

Little Daniel nodded softly and Max lifted him onto his hip. He walked the few steps into the living room and placed the boy gently on the couch. Jimmy was the first to be curious. Little Daniel looked at him dubiously before reaching his hand out slowly to pet the cat.

Max watched them out of the corner of his eyes while he scrolled through his contacts. Grace picked up after three rings, and Max hoped it wasn’t very late in Perth.

“Max, lovely to hear from you!” Grace’s voice was a balm, Max felt completely out of his depth.

“Hey Grace, unfortunately this isn’t a social call.”

“What’s happened?” Her voice was immediately tense and Max kicked himself, he could have handled that better.

“Nothing terrible. I’m gonna show you.” After hearing her noise of agreement he changed the call to a facetime. She looked at him with worried brown eyes, Max flipped the camera to show Little Daniel stiltedly petting Jimmy’s head. His ring pop clutched tightly in his other fist.

“Oh.” Her gasp was sharp. Max watched her eyes grow soft and yearning.

“Blake said he’s been stressed lately, it happened not twenty minutes ago.”

“So its temporary then.” She spoke to herself, eyes still staring at the little boy who was her miniature in every way. “He likes the show Lamb Chops, and The Wiggles. Don’t let him choose the pizza, he likes the pictures but he doesn’t like the peppers or olives. He’ll eat pepperoni or hawaiian.”

Max groaned because Little Daniel absolutely chose the pizza and there were all sorts of peppers and olives.

“Do you still have the epi pen?” She asked quietly.

“I do.”

“Good. You may need it.”

“Pistachios, hazelnuts, peanuts. I remember.” Max smiled.

Grace made that ‘oh honey’ face that Daniel sometimes did when he thought Max was going to be in over his head a little. “Some kinds of grass, milk, ice cream, air fresheners, may make him puke–”

“How did you let him move to Italy on his own??” Max laughed when Grace snorted. He had no idea Daniel had been allergic to so many things.

“He grew out of most of it. And he was very convincing.” She smiled, before biting her lip. “Can I talk to him?”

“Of course!” Max crossed the room quickly and flipped the camera back to the front facing one. “Daniel, I have someone who would like to speak with you, is this ok?”

Little Daniel looked up from where Jimmy was trying to climb onto his small lap and nodded softly. Max sat beside him and brought his phone to Daniel’s face.

“Mum!” Little Daniel screamed, scaring Jimmy a little. He scooted forward on the couch to get closer to the phone, Max brought to phone to him. “That's my Mummy!”

“Danny my baby, are you being good for Max?”

Little Daniel gasped, his mouth dropping open. He nodded quickly, his head bobbled like a toy. “Uh huh! Mum are you coming to get me?”

Grace sniffled and covered her mouth with a palm. “Soon my baby. It’ll take a little bit so be good for Max ok? He’ll take care of you until we get there.”

“Ok! I promise!” Little Daniel chirped, he nodded again like a bobble head.

“That’s my baby. I love you Danny Wanny.”

“I love you more Mummy Wummy!” Little Daniel grinned and looked up at Max when the screen when dark. Max bit his lip, not expecting the cute aggression that took hold of him.

“Do you want to watch The Wiggles?” Max asked instead, smiling with Little Daniel nodded happily.

#answered #anonymous #de aged daniel #maxiel

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cranberrv · 2 months

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fic with dally teaching the reader how to drive?

never let me go

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which you and dallas go for a drive

( not proofread , swearing, lowercase intended )

when you were with dallas, you felt free. he was so reckless, so hardcore, and completely bananas. you loved to tag along on his stupid adventures, and now, your new outing is to check on ponyboy and johnny at the church that they’re hiding out in.

“you know how to drive, doll?” he asks you after picking you up, tossing you the keys. “buck won’t let me drive this beauty, but he trusts you.”

you laugh. “well he’s stupid to trust me, because i can’t drive.”

“you’re kiddin’,” he can’t hold his dumb smirk back. the endearing smirk that he gives you whenever he’s about to do something you won’t like. “c’mon, try it then, sweetie.”

“no way, dal,” you shake your head, but he’s already taken your spot in the passengers seat. “i’ll kill you, i’ll crash the car or something, i dunno-“

“i trust ya, stop freakin’ out,” he interuppts, dismissive of your worries. “i’ll teach ya how to work everythin’.”

you debate, but nod and sit in the drivers seat. gosh, it really was more intimidating up there.

“it’s pretty simple, hun,” he starts out. “pedal to your left is your clutch, it’ll make the car drive, pedal in your middle is your break, and pedal to your right is gas. you’d be stupid to not figure it out.” he looks back at you after showing you the pedals, and see’s your expression. “no, no, no, don’t give me that look. you’ll be fine. i’ll hold the wheel for ya.”

he directs you further, and eventually, you get the car going. his left hand is on yours, holding the wheel from the passengers side, helping you keep the car steady.

dallas puts in an elvis cd, and the music echoes throughout tulsa. “finally don’t gotta listen to your shit music,” he teases.

you smile and roll your eyes. “oh shut it, dal, i know you secretly like lesley gore.”

“‘sunshine and lollipops’ is the worst song i’ve ever heard. i’d rather you crash the car than to listen to that fuckin’ mess.”

“you’re mean,” you tease back, and he laughs.

“alright, that’s it, i’m lettin’ go of the wheel. i’m letting you kill us.”

“no, no, no,” you insist. “don’t let go.”

“my arm is cramping, doll,”

“don’t care. never let me go.”

he smiles, and holds your hand a little tighter. the summer breeze is coating the entire convertible in its warmth, your hair is waving in the wind, and dallas is just watching you drive, the focus in your eyes unmatched.

you reach a red light, and finally get a short break to relax. you turn to dallas. “i dunno how you drive everywhere, dal, this is stressful.”

“baby, you’re doin’ just fine.” he assures. “haven’t even run over anything yet, that’s somethin’, huh?”

“i don’t wanna kill us, dal.”

he laughs at that. “i’d hope so.” he takes a drag of his cigarette, then looks around at everything. you’re out of tulsa, out of the city. “i ain’t never been to the country before.”

“really? it’s nice, huh? all the trees and fields and stuff.”

“it looks fuckin’ boring. nothin’ to do around here, does everyone just play checkers or somethin’?”

“you’re such a downer,” you joke. you look up, and realize the light has just turned green. “oh- dal, which one is the clutch, again?”

“you’re a dumbass.” is all he says.

“dal!” you insist, and he puts his hand up in fake surrender. “i mean it, i’m keeping these cars waiting.”

“it’s your far left, doll.” he finally tells you, and you thank him, and then start driving.

you continue driving to meet the boys, and the country scenery is engulfing the both of you. fields on farmland, apple orchards, small, sweet towns, everything was so wholesome and welcoming.

you feel free, like the world is just yours and dally’s. you were born to live this moment, to drive through the countryside in your red convertible, the sun hitting your faces so perfectly that it feels like a coming-of-age movie. you feel golden.

#the outsiders #dallas winston #dally winston #dallas #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston fluff #dallas winston x reader #dally winston fluff

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

Text

What’s fasinating about the d&d movie is that it is all the fun of d&d removed from the rigid restraints of the the clunky game system: Thrills and laughs and hairbrained schemes minus the minutia of needless rolls or waiting for your turn in initiative to circle around. Part of this is idealization, but as someone who’s obsessed with making my favorite game system the most fun possible I can’t help but draw some comparisons.

Combat: Holga’s fight scenes were a highlight of the film for me, displaying a huge amount of kinetic creativity as she pinballed between different combatants swapping out weapons, bouncing off the surrounding terrain . This is a far, far cry from how being a fighter plays out at the table, as most martial characters are focused into doing just one type of attack as good as they can because it’s their only reliable contribution to combat. Try to model Holga’s fights in game and you’d be caught in a boring slog of dealing 1d4+STR damage to a bunch of guards whittling away at their hitpoint pools, a far cry from the lighting quick flury of smashing, bashing, and flips that make her the film’s action setpiece.

What d&d needs is a system for combat that exists alongside the traditional damage/HP paradigm: an additional layer of complexity for martial characters that encourages tactical thinking and lets those who do their damage up close feel just as cool and as clutch as casters. My mind’s already whirling thinking up something that revolves around stuns, suckerpunches, and positioning, so expect it later this week.

Powercreep: This might be subjective but I find it fascinating that the official stats put out for the party has them hovering around level 16, a point in character progression a)that most characters never get to b) by which the game’s difficulty systems have begun to break down. I suspect this was done in order to keep their on-screen abilities in line with how they are in the base rules, but I can’t help but feel like its odd for the “idedalized” dnd experiance to be playing around with toys that most groups will never get their hands on.

In my experience d&d is on a sliding scale of stakes V Shenanigans, with the exact ballance evolving over the course of a campaign: Your group starts out as a bunch of dumbfucks and at some point while you’re making making absolute fools out of yourselves you become a found family just in time for the consequences of your actions to circle back around and threaten the realm. First the characters start caring about eachother, then they care about the world, then they have to save that world. Level 16 is, for me, distinctly in “save the world” territory, despite the fact that the HaT crew are clearly still figuring out who they are and what they care about. It makes me wish D&D was more free with its shenanigan enabling magic/items/class features at lower levels to help fuel these kinds of antics.

Attunement: Perhaps the best “ oh I’m totally going to steal this” moment came from Simon’s attempt to attune to the helm of disjunction. Turning what was otherwise a rote game mechanic into an oppertunity for character growth was genius on behalf of the writers, though one I’d only really employ with items that were as necessary for my plots as the helm was for the heist. Just like Simon’s major flaw was self doubt, I could easily see delicious storytelling potential in throwing up other emotional hurdles depending on the situation: A hero’s sword refusing to attune to the haunted survivor until they’ve come to terms with what they’ve done, an otherwise altruistic character being forced to admit their sin and self interest by an evil-aligned artifact.

Over all, I really enjoyed the movie, though paradoxically It didn’t hook me as much because for me one of the biggest charms of fantasy is the feeling of discoverying a new world, and I’ve been living the d&d world for the past 20 years so it didn’t come of as wild and magical as it could have been, having hewn so close to established d&d material.

#dapper digresses #dnd meta #d&d hat #honor among thieves

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the-possum-writes · 1 year

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Can I please get some hcs of Finn, Fern, Bonnibel and Marceline (separately) with a gender!neutral human reader who gets found in some kind of stasis pod in an overgrown underground bunker from the mushroom wars, and when they wake the reader up it turns out the reader was put in stasis near the end of the mushroom wars and now has to adjust to a radically different world? And after a few months of helping them get used to things the reader asks if they want to go on a date sometime?

Waking up from Stasis Hc

❥Characters: Finn, Marceline, Princess Bubblegum

❥Tag: Mentions of war and death, SFW, Gen!neutral reader, angst & comfort, human!reader, headcanons

❥A/n: Sorry for the wait! Gonna keep this limited to Finn, Marcy and PB due to my 3 characters per request rule. Hasn't been proofread, i wanted to get this one out as soon as possible ;w;

❥Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards @foxpearlwilder

Intro.

It was like sleeping any other night if it wasn't for the weird dreams. They were continuous, vivid and bizarre enough to the point you forgot about the real world where you can't fly nor talk to animals, eventually the memory of raid alarms and gunfire stoped bothering you as much as they used to as you enjoyed living one dream after another like a movie marathon.

But eventually all dreams, just like movies, come to an end.

When you wake up its like you're being splashed with a bucket of cold water, you're clutching your heart while gasping for air as bright lights burn the cornea of your eyes like pepper spray.

"Are they still alive?" one voice asks.

"Just barely, we'll need to transport them to the hospital."

Is what you manage to understand before you black out for moment, this time there were no dreams keeping you company. When you woke up you finally understood the situation you were in, with your memory slowly coming back to you in short bursts. The room you're in is plain white with weird machinery connected to you through thing tubes and suction cups, beside you is a young man with bright blue clothing. "Hey, you're up." he greets you after noticing you open your eyes.

"Looks like it, yeah... does this mean the war is finally over?" you ask which gained a confused expression from the young man.

"...War?"

Bubblegum

❥Princess Bubblegum is in charge of your well being the next few days, she'd walk in and run some tests and ask you simple questions but she'd only gain "Yes" or "No" responses from you.

❥She was the first to assigned you some professional help, talking with someone to let out all your confused and emotional turmoil.

❥"Your health has been improving." PB brings up during one of your medical check ups.

"So has my mood, it's not easy moving on but I know my family would want that for me." you motivate yourself, earning an awknowlodge nod from the princess.

❥Once you're out of bed you finally have a chance to properly marvel at the Candy Kingdom, from its candy residents to its sweet smelling architecture."You built all this? And everything is made of candy?"

"Sure is, you can take a bite of anything is you like."

"Even you?" you joke.

"Ha, ha very funny." PB huffs sarcastically.

❥Bubblegum is a busy woman but you still tail coat behind her like a baby duckling, either helping her as an assistant for her science projects or joining her for royal tea ceremonies.

❥After a year has passed and you felt comfortable in your new home did you feel confident enough to ask PB an important question. "You're gonna over work yourself again Peebs, how about I invite you to dinner at a restaurant?"

"Just bring it up to my lab, having company would be nice."

"Yes boss!"

Finn

❥Turns out the young man has been keeping watch over you for almost two days, refusing to leave your side until you woke up. Maybe it's because you're the only other human (besides Susan) in Ooo who he can relate to, or he's just that nice of a guy.

❥Once you woke up he was ecstatic to learn more about the world you lived in, what kind of monsters could you slay? What games or comics were available at the time? But Finn soon realized you weren't up to reminisce about old times. "My family... They didn't make it did they...?" you'd start weeping.

❥He gave you space to sort out your feelings due to Pb's request. Whenever Finn was relaxing at his own home he often found himself thinking about you, trying to get in your shoes and understand how he would feel if he suddenly woke up and Jake wasn't with him.

❥The next time he came to visit you he brought a get well basket with a bunch of snacks and his favorite comics, however some of them were half eaten because him and Jake got hungry on the way there, his heart was in the right place but his stomach wasn't. "Hey, I'm glad you made it here though. I appreciate it." you'd tell them.

❥"How's the recovery going?" he'd ask, curious to know since there's less equipment checking your vitals compared to the previous times. "It's going steady, Princess Bonnibel says I'll be out in no time."

Finn gets close to you, making sure there wasn't a wad of gum nearby. "Between you and me, she's a great medic but she's also very serious about it. She had me swallowing horse sized pills without a second thought pfft."

"Yeah, she be like that."

❥"Do you know what you'll do when you get out?"

"I have no clue, although PB suggested I'd get used to the outdoors."

"Then I have the perfect spot."

Then Finn would proceed to take you to visit weird kingdoms, some made of fruits and others made of breakfast, it's amazing experiencing such things with Finn by your side.

❥He'd always talks about the adventures he goes on like something out of a legend, it's tempting to go on one with him but he says. "I'll have to teach ya how to use a sword."

"Well sign me the fluff up."

Marceline.

❥Seeing Marceline for the first time is kind of scary when you first woke up. Mainly it was due to so many vampire monster movies.

❥She'd ominously float near you one day, when you were still down in the dumps after learning the truth. "I was there." she says all of a sudden, dry and blunt.

"What?"

"I said I was there, when everything went down. You managed to sleep it off in one of them bunkers, you didn't have to see your loved ones leave one by one. Consider yourself lucky."

The reason you were scared of her the first few days was because of the way she looked at you, with those dark red demon eyes.

❥Marceline would keep the whole "paralysis demon" kind of approach the next week. You'd wake up in the middle of the night to see a flash of her nocturnal eyes before she vanishes. You're unsure if she's haunting you or not, when asking PB about it she says "Marcy probably wants to talk to you but isn't willing to open up yet. Just give her some time." she'd shrug it casually. You would shrug it off too if it wasn't because it feels like you'll get a heart attack everytime you see Marceline's eyes.

❥It's like treating a cat. You wait for her to come to you. Eventually once you got out of the hospital and settled up in the candy kingdom, Marceline woke you up with the music from her guitar, she didn't give you that hard look and instead floated near you in a relaxed position.

❥Despite her personality and appearance she's surprisingly the most understanding of the three. As you soon came to find out she was a witness of the early days of the war, it was almost therapeutic talking to her about it.

"The smell of plane fumes was a pain in the buns, I remember I would spread lotion under my nose just to distract me from it." you'd bring up.

She would carry her bass with her and slowly playing a few beats. "I used to tied car refreshers to my forehead." she cackled.

❥The two of you bonded over music, she'd play a melody from back in the day and you'd tell her the details. "Ah I recognize that one, it was a good single."

"Really? I've had stuck in my head since I was a kid but I never knew the rest of the song!"

"Well, consider yourself lucky" you snarky repeat the same phrase she told you when you two met, receiving a pillow to the face.

#adventure time x reader #finn the human #finn the human x reader #princess bubblegum x reader #Marceline x reader #marceline the vampire queen #princess bubblegum

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i-cant-sing · 2 years

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How would yandere JJK characters handle baby Fushiguro being extremely clingy?

Yandere JJK characters x clingy baby Fushiguro

Uncle Naoya Zenin:

He's annoyed at first. You're hanging onto his legs and begging him to take you along. It's when you started tearing up when he told you he can't bring you along to his business trip.

Naoya's first thought was that someone was hurting you. Is it one of the family members? Or is it a servant?

Naoya bends down to your height, grabbing your shoulders and looking you with utter seriousness. "Y/n, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Has someone been hurting you?" But you shake your head, just clutching onto him tighter.

He had to reschedule his meeting and spend the rest of his day coaxing you to tell him the truth.

"I'll be good. Please don't leave me."Your lips wobbled as you finally confessed your fear.

Naoya always knew that Toji's sudden absence from your life had affected you, but he didn't know it was this bad. He didn't know that you were afraid that other people were gonna leave you to.

The fear of loneliness- he didn't want you to spend the rest of your life being afraid that everyone was gonna leave you.

He surely wasn't.

So from then on, Naoya made sure to put in extra effort to show you that he was always gonna be around. Always gave you verbal reaffirmations that he will always be in your life.

Even when you don't want him anymore.

Yandere Sukuna:

Pretends he doesn't love all the extra attention from you, especially when you invade his domain expansion: Malevolent shrine.

"What do you want now, you brat?" He asks, chin resting on his hand as he looks down at you from his throne.

He watches you raise your arms towards him and pout. "Cuddles?"

"No, we already did that yesterday-"

"Cuddles." You demanded again. He doesn't know for sure, but he suspects that you've been using your cursed energy on him because there's no other explanation why he can't refuse you. It obviously can't help because you're undeniably cute.

"Spoiled brat." Sukuna grumbles as he lifts you into his lap, letting you drape your tiny arms across his chest and sigh happily as you snuggle your cheek against his muscles. "But it you drool on me this time, I swear I will kick you like a football."

He'd never. He can't ever hurt a hair on your extra small head.

Yandere Gojo:

Accepts it, ENJOYS it. He always enjoys being the center of attention, so when you start becoming clingy, following him around everywhere and spending extra time with him even after training hours, he welcomes it.

At some point, he is bound to start dressing you up like him, making you wear his glasses and stuff, letting you copy his mannerisms because it's actually super adorable.

He probably does make sure that there isn't something else that's bothering you and causing you to act like this.

Gojo has definitely strapped you to his chest and brought you along on slightly dangerous missions because he wanted his no.1 fan to watch him in action. And also, wouldn't this make for a great childhood memory- watching your teacher absolutely demolish curses?

And yes, he has handed you a GoPro to record him as he beats up one curse after another.

Yandere Toji Fushiguro:

Usually after he returns from his long missions, you become clingy. Its reasonable, Toji understands that you haven't seen him in a long time and he honestly does feel guilty.

So obviously, he's gonna spoil you rotten on his time off. Be it by going to every amusement park and 7/11 in town, or just having a movie marathon with pizzas on the couch with you.

Toji's heart swells a bit everytime he drops you off to school, only for you to drag him by his hand and introduce him to your friends and teachers. He had later found out that some kids had been bullying you about not having a mother and that your father had also ran away from you. So whenever he came to school, he made sure to look extra good and flex his muscles in front of your friends (and low key scare them into not bullying you) and sweet talking your teachers so they'll give you special treatment.

When he has to leave again, his heart breaks when you beg him not to go. As much as Toji would like to haul you on his hip and kill curses and humans alike, that was only okay when you were a baby who couldn't remember stuff.

So he makes dozens of promises if returning soon and that he'll bring plenty of presents before leaving you crying and struggling in Megumi's arms.

#yandere naoya zenin #yandere naoya #yandere sukuna #yandere sukuna ryomen #yandere sakuna #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo saturo #yandere toji #yandere toji fushiguro #yandere gojo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk

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