#( snapped in a trap // ooc )

[initialchains]

teenage dirtbag, baby! | luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: there is nothing more exhausting than being known as the picture perfect daughter of aphrodite… luckily, camp half-blood’s resident teenage dirtbag luke castellan can’t relate at all. fake dating him to piss off your siblings and mother could never go wrong, right? (based on 18 by anarbor)

wc: 6.5k

warnings: smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, implied sexual content, drew tanaka being a bitch, and kinda ooc luke bcs hes meant to be well … a teenage dirtbag.

a/n: its still valentine’s day for me sooo happy valentines 💌💗 !! in mexico valentine’s day is also known as the day of friendship so this one is dedicated to my favorite people ever: @emiliehornby @love-that-we-were-in and @kestisvrse <3 !! hope you enjoy it mwah !!

The sounds of campers laughing and gossiping in the dining pavilion are drowned out by your siblings and their annoyingly loud whispers about the allegedly cute (you’d beg to differ) son of Ares who joined camp less than twelve hours ago. Sure, he seemed like a nice guy even though he's a child of the god of war, but you were certain the only reason they kept bringing him up was because they wanted to set you up with him.

“And his arms, oh my gods! Have you seen them?” one of your brothers chimed in, trying to get you to agree with him, but all you could come up with was a hum and a polite smile. 

It pissed you off a bit, the knowledge of you never being able to go against your siblings' wishes.. the fear of disappointing them and your mother being all-consuming and blinding you with fear.

There were times you’d think about it if you’re being honest. Times where you would let yourself dream of doing something so stupidly reckless for once. Something that would stop your siblings from walking all over you and treating you like their personal lapdog. 

Not only was it tiring but it was also humiliating to a certain point. You were older than most of them and you were pretty sure you were the only one that took being a demigod seriously, even taking your time to strategize for Capture The Flag with Clarisse, and yet… you rejected Chiron when he asked you to be a counselor and told him to ask Silena instead. 

And you loved your family—you really did, but it was getting exhausting. Always having to be perfect was draining you and you were afraid of the kind of person you’d become if you allowed this to keep going. 

“He totally wants to ask you out,” Silena’s voice snapped you out of the daze you were trapped in. You turned your head to the right, facing your half-sister with a small frown on your face.

“You really think so?” you replied, trying your best to sound excited. 

“Oh, I know so,” she answered before going on a whole rant about how cute you’d look with the newly claimed son of Ares. A son of Ares—that you badly wanted to remind her—had only been in camp for less than twelve hours and you knew nothing about. 

You stayed in the dining pavilion with your siblings until you found the strength to tell them you were tired and wanted to go to sleep (an incredibly blatant lie but it didn’t look like they cared) and stood up, brushing the dust off your jeans.

“Wait, I’ll go with you!” Silena said with a smile, standing up and moving closer to you. 

“You don’t have to. You can stay with them if you want to, really—“ you were cut off by your half-sister with an exasperated sigh.

“I want to go with you. Plus, I can walk back here once I drop you off at the cabin,” she stated with a playful roll of her eyes.

The two of you walked back to the Aphrodite cabin in a comfortable silence. You liked being with Silena, she was a few years younger than you but she carried herself with so much grace and love it was hard to feel uncomfortable or weird whenever you hung out with her.

You kept your gaze on the sky, noticing that the moon was out by now. “Hey,” Silena whispered, trying to get your attention.

“You okay?” you answered. Your mind was practically hardwired to always look after your siblings, so your brain was unwillingly making you think of the worst-case scenario.

“What? Yeah, I am okay,” Silena was quick to reassure you, “I just wanted to talk to you about—“

“I swear to all the gods, Silena. If this is about that camper..” you replied with a small sigh. The two of you stopped walking when you reached your cabin, deciding to continue the conversation outside.

“He’s not that bad! He is a nice guy and the two of you would look really cute together,” she insisted.

“You don’t even know him.”

“Ugh, fine. Good thing is there are other cute campers we can introduce you to. I met one of Charlie’s brothers a few weeks ago and I think he’d—“

“I can’t do this tonight,” you replied in an exhausted tone.

“Wow, okay. No need to be mean about it,” Silena muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been trying to help you find a boyfriend for months now and you always shut me down. It was fine at first but now you’re just being mean,” she explained.

“Mean? Silena, you said it yourself. I’ve always shut you down because I’m not interested in getting one.”

“Whatever,” she replied bitterly before turning around and walking back to the dining pavilion, leaving you alone outside of your cabin. 

You stared at her back as she walked away, going through the last few minutes over and over in your head. Were you being mean? All you did was stick up for yourself. You didn’t understand why you were feeling bad for standing up against your siblings just for once.

A snort made you realize you weren’t alone. You turned your head towards the noise just to be met with.. oh.

Luke Castellan was leaning against the side of your cabin, carefully hidden under the darkness of the night and the shadows of the trees, he had a cigarette in his right hand and an obnoxious smirk adorning his even more obnoxious face. 

“Hope you enjoyed the show, Castellan.”

Luke raised his hands as if he had been caught and blew the smoke away, “I’m on your side, she was being a fucking bitch.”

“Don’t call her that, she’s just a kid.”

Luke raised a brow before taking another drag of his cigarette, “Do not call your sister a bitch after seeing her.. be a bitch to you?” he shook his head. “Oh, princess, you need to work on getting rid of that altruism.”

“Do you even know what that word means?” you snapped, not being in the mood to indulge in whatever it was he wanted to talk about.

“Why? You want to teach me?” He said with a smirk.

“Don’t even start with your annoying stuff, Castellan,” you muttered, running a hand down your face, clearly overwhelmed with everything that had happened. 

“Because you know you won’t want me to stop?” he pressed, but after a moment of silence his smirk fell and a frown took over his features. 

“Uh.. you want to...” he trailed off and cleared his throat, “you want to talk about it or something?” 

You squinted at him before eventually letting out a sigh and walking over to Luke, standing next to him with your back pressed against the wooden walls of your cabin. Luke extended his arm away from you to keep the smoke far from your face. 

“So, um... Silena wants to set me up with that new camper,” you started.

“Fuck. The Ares one?” Luke interrupted.

“Castellan.”

“Right, sorry. Please continue, princess.”

You decided to ignore the insufferable pet name he gave you and continued, “The thing is I do want a boyfriend, just not… him.”

Luke hummed before bringing the cigarette to his lips again and inhaling the smoke in, he kept his mouth closed as he thought of something decent to say before slightly tilting his head away from you and blowing out the smoke upwards. 

“Alright, and have you tried telling her to stop?” he cut himself off and shook his head. “Nope that was shitty advice, have you tried maybe describing your type or whatever it is you Aphrodite people say to describe the people you’re attracted to.” 

“My type?” you replied, almost offended by the statement.

“Yeah?” Luke answered as if it was the most obvious thing to do, “Just describe the type of guys you’re into and I’m sure that cult of yours you like to call siblings will be happy to help…” he trailed off when he noticed your gaze set on his right hand and your bottom lip in between your teeth as he flicked the cigarette, causing the ashes to fall into the ground. 

He looked up from his hand and burst out into laughter, shaking his head before whispering an amused fuck. 

“Oh?” Luke said with a bright smile and raised brows, “You find this attractive, angel?” 

“That thing is going to kill you,” you explained, “I’m not attracted to people that like to slowly kill themselves.” 

“Fucking bummer. I wanted to see you take a drag, that would’ve been really hot,” he said, his smile not wavering. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you don’t drink, right?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Look at you, being such a good girl,” Luke teased before throwing the rest of his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. 

“Also, that thing you said about Silena being just a kid was really fucking stupid. She’s almost the same age as Annabeth and she doesn’t act like an asshole, I’m pretty sure your sweet little sister is just a bitch.” 

Annabeth. You forgot that even though Luke is an annoyance most of the time and prefers to stick to himself.. he still has a soft spot for the twelve year old daughter of Athena. It was kind of endearing. 

“Annabeth is a daughter of Athena, you can’t expect her to act—“

“You didn’t act like Silena when you were fourteen. You need to stop giving her excuses and allow yourself to get mad at her.” 

“I’d rather have my siblings get mad at me and just stop perceiving me as this perfect and weak person, maybe once that happens they’ll stop trying to mess with my life,” you explained, your gaze set towards the ground. 

Luke was about to open his mouth and try to come up with a funny one-liner to make you feel better, but he didn’t get to because you were quick to look up at him with a gasp and wide eyes.

“The fuck? Are you okay?” 

“I need you.”

“Shit, angel. Most girls say that after a few dates but I’m not against the idea,” he said with an amused look in his eyes. 

“Ew, no. I mean, I need to date you—fake date you.”

“I’m uh... not for sale?” Luke answered, clearly confused by the plan you were trying to explain.

“No, Castellan. Listen to me. My siblings despise you, I’m sure they’d set my bed on fire as a way of cleansing my soul from you if they find out we’re dating.”

Luke’s eyes got bright and his smile widened (if that was even possible), “Set your bed on fire? And what would we do in your bed for them to feel disgusted by its existence?”

“You’re disgusting. Anyway, if we fake date I’ll get to stop being perceived as their perfect sister and you’ll have bragging rights for dating an Aphrodite kid,” you said, moving your hands as you spoke. 

“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” Luke asked carefully, trying to make you think about what was at stake. He didn’t give a shit about staining his already nonexistent reputation, but he couldn’t have you ruin yours. 

“I am so sure, Castellan,” you reassured him. 

“You know, for a good girl I’m extremely surprised you never say please.”

“Please, Castellan. Could you please be my fake boyfriend so I can finally stop being seen as my siblings' personal toy?” you said with a fake smile while bringing your hands together as an exaggerated way of begging Luke to say yes. 

“You’re so cute when you beg. But you need to prove to me you’re serious about this fake dating thing. Meet me tomorrow at the bonfire, no bullshit.” 

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You had been on edge the entire day. Silena seemed to be past the argument, which made you feel better to an extent, but that didn’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling that settled in your gut because throughout the day you could feel someone staring at you. You could feel Luke staring at you.  

You were walking past the sword fighting arena with Katie Gardner from the Demeter Cabin the first time it happened. The feeling of a pair of eyes completely set on you. You turned your head to the right just to be met with Luke’s exhausted figure, he was sweating and panting, but that didn’t stop him from running his eyes up and down your figure and smiling at you. 

To say Katie was disgusted would be an understatement. A “Castellan is a dick, you should stay away from him,” was enough to stop you from staring at him and turning your head back to Katie. She went on to explain how Luke was a “real shitty person” and only hooked up with her as a way of getting her to grow weed in the back of the stables. 

It happened around eight times in the last two hours (not that you were counting) and it only got worse when the moon came up and everyone was making their way to the bonfire. You were walking next to Michael Yew when you felt a hand on your lower back. 

Luke’s hand on your lower back, to be exact. He left it there as he walked past you, only turning his head back to say “It’s adorable to see you together, are you two a couple?” 

You had to hold yourself back from strangling him when you heard his irritating laugh after he saw Michael’s reaction to his statement. Michael tried his best to be polite and tell him he was wrong, that there was nothing going on between the two of you. 

But his reply only seemed to fuel Luke’s actions even more because all he did was answer with a cocky “Oh, I know. Our princess here is only into... what was it? People that like to slowly kill themselves with cigarettes?” before walking away.

You were going to kill him.

Michael left your side as soon as you arrived, moving to sit with his siblings from the Apollo Cabin… leaving you with two choices: sitting with your siblings or sitting next to Luke (who for some reason always sat alone and spent the entire time listening to the music coming from the MP3 player he somehow managed to get into camp). 

So this is what Luke meant, you thought. This was the only way you could prove to him and everyone that you were serious about dating him—fake dating him—but it's not like they would ever know the truth.

You dragged your feet as you walked towards Luke, clearly having second thoughts about your plan, but there was no turning back now. You tried to ignore the confused look Drew was giving you and the gasps you could hear coming from your siblings. 

“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” You weren't so sure anymore but that didn’t stop you from taking a seat next to Luke Castellan, who took one of his earphones off and looked at you with a smile. 

“Happy now? I just proved how serious I am about this,” you whispered to him, trying your best to not let anyone hear you.

Luke nodded before saying, “You could’ve done better, but I’ll take it.”

“Done better? I just sat next to you in front of the entire camp, isn’t this good enough for you?” you asked, indignation evident in your tone. 

“Promise not to beat me up?” Luke said before pulling your arm and manhandling your body so you were on top of him, sitting on his lap. He placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Wow, Castellan. How scandalous, I’m sitting on your lap,” you deadpanned. 

He chuckled, bringing you closer to him and pressing his lips against yours. Luke’s hands felt like fire against your skin, all you could feel was a heat taking all over your body as he continued to kiss you, only pulling away to catch his breath before bringing you in for another one, this time he kissed you deeper and faster. 

Luke dragged you closer to him by pressing your hips against his and all you could do was melt into him and the feeling of his lips against yours. In the distance, you could hear gasps and people gagging, and you were pretty sure the campers from the Ares Cabin were cheering and whistling, but all your thoughts were on Luke Castellan and how good of a kisser he is.

You pulled away first this time, trying to steady your breathing as you looked into his eyes. He licked his lips before whispering “We should go.”

Your eyes widened as soon as he said that, the implications of what the sentence meant making you feel nervous. Luke was quick to reassure you, “If we leave, your siblings will be even more outraged. We don’t have to do anything, but they’ll think we are doing…some stuff. Just come to the woods with me for a little while.” 

You nodded and grabbed his hand as he guided you through the woods. You could hear Silena calling out your name and warning you about the consequences of your actions, but her voice was drowned out by the loud cheers coming from Clarisse.

Once the two of you were far enough from the rest of the campers, Luke let go of your hand and sat down by the lake, nodding his head as a way of asking you to join him.

You sat in silence for a few minutes until Luke spoke first. “How long do you think we should keep this thing up?”

“Valentina and Drew will want us to be over by tonight,” you said with a smile, a laugh escaping your lips. You didn’t notice how Luke’s eyes got brighter when he heard your laugh or how the melody that came out of your lips went straight through his heart and made him feel more alive.

“But I think a week should be enough. We can say we’ve been secretly dating for like... five months? That way it won’t be weird if we break up in a week,” you explained while your fingers played with your camp necklace. 

Luke nodded before going silent again, staring at the lake with a look you couldn’t quite comprehend. Your gaze was set on him, your eyes traveling from his toned arms, all the way to the scar that sat right below his right eye. 

“I know it’s awful, I can feel you staring at it,” he murmured. You could physically feel your heart sinking when he said it. You cleared your throat, “No, I… I think it’s beautiful. I think you’re—” Luke turned his head to face you, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “I think you’re really brave, Luke.” 

“Beautiful?” Luke asked, confusion written all over his face. “You should hear what your siblings say about it, then. I’m sure your opinion would change in a second.” 

“Being an Aphrodite kid means you see beauty everywhere,” you explained, “And I think your scar must be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Luke stared at you with an unreadable expression, making your heart almost beat out of your chest. 

“Are you flirting with me, angel?”

“Of course, you’d ruin the moment. Screw you, man.” You rolled your eyes. 

Luke threw his head back in a fit of laughter, it made you want to strangle him… again. “Did you just say screw you? Gods, princess, saying fuck won’t kill you.” 

“I don’t like to curse, thank you for pointing it out, Castellan,” you said, playfully shoving him, making him fake a gasp. 

“You went from trying to seduce me to trying to kill me, you’re so interesting, angel,” he said before letting out a sigh. “It, uh… It was really hard at first, getting used to the scar.”

“Having people call it all sorts of names, and looking at me with nothing but pity in their eyes was not easy to get used to. But after some time you just… stop caring. I mean, I’m not that big of an asshole to hold a grudge over a fucking scar, it even looks sick. But yeah, when it gets hard again all I can do is snort a line and move on.

“The coke smuggling was real?” you gasped, only focusing on the last sentence he said. Luke tried to keep a straight face but his facade fell the moment he noticed your wide eyes. Luke Castellan has the type of laugh that makes everything get fuzzy and makes you feel lightheaded, and all you wanted to do was to come up with bad jokes just for the sole reason of hearing him do it again. 

“Fuck, you really believe anything, huh?”

“Shut up, Castellan. I’ll literally stab you and let you slowly bleed to death,” you threatened, standing up from your place next to him. Luke followed you as you walked back to the cabins.

“You do know I’m the best swordsman in the last 300 years, right? Do you even know how to wield a sword?” he asked, matching your pace and walking next to you. 

“Low blow, just because I don’t like to indulge in violence it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to wield a sword,” you retorted. 

Luke snorted a laugh, “You don’t know, do you?”

“No, I don’t. Will you shut up now?”

“I only will if you accept to let me teach you how to fight tomorrow,” Luke said with a tilt to his head. He didn’t even give you a chance to answer because he walked away from you while saying a loud “Meet me tomorrow morning in the sword fighting arena.” 

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You were sure you were seconds away from passing out. It's been around two hours of sparring with Luke and your arms and legs were about to give out. The sun was starting to come out, which meant this torture was nearly over. At least that’s what Luke promised. “We’ll stop as soon as the other campers wake up, that way you won’t have to be embarrassed if they see your… skills.”

The two of you circled each other, your swords were raised and Luke’s blade was pointing straight at you. Luke took a second to study your stance before lunging forward, his sword meeting yours as you quickly blocked his attack. “Not too bad, huh?” Luke teased before trying to get another hit, his moves becoming more calculated the longer you kept blocking his advances. Proving he wasn’t called the best swordsman at camp for nothing. 

With a disarming maneuver you weren’t aware of, Luke was quick to throw your sword to the ground and have you stumbling back, not being able to regain your footing. Luke gave you a smirk when your body hit the ground with a small thud, “That was easy,” he said, “We should do this more often.” 

“Nope, this is a one-time thing, Castellan,” Luke rolled his eyes before bringing the blade of his sword closer to you, reaching for your chin with a glint in his eyes. The blade met your chin and Luke lifted it, making you meet his gaze as he slowly made you stand up by raising his sword even higher. 

The two of you stood still, staring intently into each other’s eyes until you heard it—the sound of the Ares Cabin making their way to the arena. Luke let out a surprised shit, dropped his sword to the ground, and walked closer to you, cupping your jaw with his right hand and kissing you. 

Your lips met in a hurried collision, causing the same fire from yesterday to set in your stomach. Your hands moved to Luke’s hair, softly pulling it as the kiss got heated. You knew this was fake, you knew this kiss meant nothing to him… but you didn’t want him to stop. “Holy fuck, are you two always sucking each other’s faces?” Clarisse’s voice cut through the moment, causing you to pull away from Luke, unable to meet his gaze. 

“Yeah, that’s what being in a relationship entails. I don’t think you’d know much about it, La Rue,” Luke breathes out.

“Don’t you have weed to sell or a cheap bottle of vodka to down, Castellan?” 

“Aw, you know me so well,” Luke answered before picking up both of your swords and grabbing your hand, walking away from the arena. 

The following days were (and you hated to admit it) filled with the most fun you’ve ever had. Luke would come up with some insane idea for a fake date and it would always end with one of you lying about seeing a camper or hearing Silena’s voice as an excuse to make out with each other. 

There was this one time the two of you were having a picnic by the strawberry fields and the day ended with the two of you hiding in the empty forge while making out, running your hands over each other’s bodies, and doing the normal stuff fake couples always do… it all happened because Luke swore he heard Valentina’s voice near the fields. (You were sure Valentina had been on the stables that entire day because she had cleaning duty, but why wouldn’t you play along with something you also wanted to do?)  

It was Sunday–the last day of your fake relationship–when Silena finally found the guts to talk to you about Luke. You even felt slightly bad for the girl because she was so nervous when she sat next to you in the dining pavilion. 

“I..um... I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she began, “Well, there are lots of things for me to apologize for, but I think it’s pretty obvious what the main problem is.” 

“The way I’ve been treating you is not okay and I’m really ashamed of it. You shouldn’t have to feel pressured to be the person we want you to be, I used to see you as someone who couldn’t do things on her own and always needed someone to push her and help her handle everything… and now I see I was wrong,” Silena explained, running a hand through her hair. 

“It’s fine, Silena. I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do. You’re strong and more than capable of doing things on your own, and you don’t need me to try and help you or fix you.” She took a deep breath. “I didn't know you were dating Luke, and to be honest I didn’t even know he was your type. He is so… weird and I never would’ve guessed you were dating. I mean, Drew told me he does cocaine and—”

“He doesn’t,” you interrupted.

Silena raised a brow before continuing, “Anyway, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad for just... existing. And you always look so happy after hanging out with Luke, I truly hope the two of you stay together for a long time.” 

You didn’t even know how to explain the situation so you just blurted out “I broke up with him.” 

Silena looked shocked for a few seconds before letting out a deep breath, “Oh, thank the gods. Just because we trust you it doesn’t mean we trust him,” she spat the him with so much disgust it made you feel sick. “You deserve so much better.” 

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

This is probably the first time you have ever felt ill at the thought of seeing Luke. Sure, you used to be annoyed by his presence before the whole fake dating situation even started, but at least you were a strange type of friends back then. Not really close but also not complete strangers. There were times you’d catch him hiding his secret stash of weed behind the stables and didn’t tell anyone, and he’d always pay you back by lying to Chiron about you practicing your sword skills with him. (You had only used a sword once and it was years ago when you were still a new camper, you had no idea why Chiron would ever believe him.)

Luke was sitting in his usual spot by the lake, a cigarette in his hand. It had become a tradition for the two of you to always meet up by the lake before curfew to talk about your day and practice your kissing so it wouldn’t look fake. 

“Hey,” you said, taking a seat next to him. Luke threw his cigarette to the ground, stepped on it, and almost instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your temple. “Blink-182?” you asked, nodding at the MP3 he had on his lap. 

“The Smashing Pumpkins,” Luke answered, taking his earphones off. “Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness is one of the best albums ever made.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’ll take your word for it,” you said. Luke smiled and poked your side. 

“So, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” you began, but Luke held up his hand as a way to get you to stop.

“Can I say something first?” he asked, looking shy for probably the first time since the day you met him. 

You nodded and let him take the lead of the conversation. “Alright, so… I’m kind of shit with words so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but this past week has probably been the best week of my life. And I’m not even fucking around, I don’t have many friends–apart from Annabeth, and getting to be with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Being your friend is the greatest gift the gods have ever given me, and sometimes I feel like I don’t even deserve it. I’m a mess of a person, and you’re well… you’re you,” Luke stared deeply into your eyes, “And I just wanted to let you know that—”

Luke didn’t get to finish his sentence because this time it was you who cut him off with a kiss. You could taste the cigarette on his lips as he brought you closer to him, running a hand down your back and deepening the kiss before pulling away and moving to kiss your neck. 

Luke began to trail kisses down your throat and only stopped to whisper a low “Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.”

Aphrodite.

You pushed him away the moment you remembered your mother. “Silena apologized. We can stop pretending now.”

Luke was silent and just stared at you, his fingers moving to fidget with the wire of his earphones. “Oh, right,” he cleared his throat. “It’s Sunday, I forgot.”

You knew he didn’t.

“Yup, so we can go back to normal now,” you said, looking away from his eyes because you knew it would only take one look into them for you to kiss him again.

“Good,” Luke stood up, not daring to even shoot you a glance, and walked away. Leaving you alone by the lake with the lingering smell of his cheap stolen cologne mixed with the cigarette he was smoking. 

It didn’t help that you were welcomed into your cabin with hugs and your siblings congratulating you for breaking up with the son of Hermes. Sure, you weren’t the perfect sister anymore because you dated Luke Friendless-Freak Castellan, but knowing they liked you just because you were with him and then broke his heart made you want to set the cabin on fire. 

The main rule of the Aphrodite Cabin was something your siblings were extremely proud of, but the thought of its existence made you want to storm into Mount Olympus by yourself and yell at your mother for putting all these useless ideas into their heads. 

For a child of Aphrodite to prove themselves, they must make someone fall in love with them and then break that someone's heart. 

Is it possible for the rule to backfire? For the child of Aphrodite to accidentally fall in love with someone and then break their own heart because of it? You didn’t even know if that was an option, but you were sure that’s exactly what you were going through right now. 

It was hard for you to go to sleep that night because your mind kept replaying the past week on a loop. Your conversation with Luke by your cabin. The night of the bonfire. The conversation by the lake about his scar. Sparring with him. Going on a million fake dates. The night on the forge. Your last conversation with him. 

“Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.” 

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You could feel Luke staring at you. Again. 

You were helping Annabeth strategize for Capture The Flag, because she had the brilliant idea to have the Athena cabin team up with Hermes and Aphrodite. You didn’t know much about fighting and spent most of the time sitting with your sisters during the game, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy helping them come up with new plans. 

Once the three of you were done, Annabeth excused herself with an awkward “I think Malcolm wanted me to help him go through some maps. You two have fun… chatting!” and left as fast as she could, leaving you alone with Luke. 

You watched her leave the amphitheater and turned around to face Luke, “I can see why you like her. She’s so much like you.”

“Yeah, she’s like my little sister.”

The silence was so uncomfortable you almost broke down crying. You nodded and turned around, not being strong enough to face him, and walked away. You could hear him behind you, following you.

“Can we talk?” he pleaded.

You were about to open your mouth when Drew’s voice made you turn your head. “Gods, Castellan. It’s so embarrassing to still be hung up on your ex.” 

Luke sighed, “Hello to you too, Tanaka.” 

“Can you leave her alone? She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Drew said through a fake smile. 

“Oh, really? Did she tell you that?” Luke answered, tilting his head as he spoke and making eye contact with you. Wordlessly begging you to please talk to him. 

You stayed silent and looked away from him. Luke let out an incredulous laugh before nodding his head. “Good to know you’re back to being their little pet.” 

Drew rolled her eyes and walked away, shoving Luke as she walked past him. “So? You’re just not going to say anything?” Luke said. 

“What do you want me to say, Castellan?” 

“Tell me that last week didn’t mean anything to you,” Luke answered, his voice trembling. 

“Why do you care? I thought I was nothing but Drew’s little pet,” you replied, trying your best to not look weak in front of him.

Luke ran a hand through his hair and stepped closer to you, “I’m sure you’re thinking the exact same thing about yourself.” 

You hated that he was right.

The truth made your blood boil. “I don’t want any of your shit,” Luke let out a genuine laugh this time, a mocking look in his eyes. “Oh, so now she can curse?” 

You hated him for seeing the real you. You hated him for knowing the truth. You hated yourself for loving him.

“Fuck you, Castellan,” Luke hummed before stepping even closer to you and placing a hand on your waist, leaning to whisper in your ear. “I’m sure you’d love to do that again, right?” Luke’s smell was taking all over your senses and making your knees go weak. He continued, “Because even if we do it in the darkness of the Forge… it is still two friends fake dating because your mother might be watching.” 

You found the strength to press your hands against his chest and push him away, “Don’t talk to me ever again.” 

You spent the rest of the day with your siblings and friends, too afraid to leave their side because you didn’t trust yourself. Because you knew that if you were left alone for a second—you’d run straight to him. 

You sat next to Silena in the dining pavilion. Helped Katie and the Dyonisus cabin grow more strawberries by keeping them company. Walked with Michael to the bonfire, and stayed with Drew throughout the entire singalong. 

As always, Luke was sitting by himself, his MP3 player in his hand and his eyes were set on you. 

You walked back to your cabin when the singalong was over and helped your siblings get ready for bed. You were about to go to sleep when Valentina whispered your name, saying she had something for you.

“We found it last night under your bed, Drew wanted to give it to the harpies but I managed to take it away from her,” a frown made its way to your face.”What do you mean?”

“We found this,” She pulled out a badly wrapped gift from under her pillows. You were confused until she told you to open it.

 It was a bright pink MP3 player. 

“Oh,” you whispered, your hands shook as you stared at it. “I’ve got to—”

“It’s okay,” Valentina whispered. “He’s probably by the lake.”

You gave your half-sister a hug before running out of your cabin, and making your way to the lake. You could see Luke’s silhouette in the distance, and the sight only made you run faster.

You took a moment to catch your breath before saying, “The Smashing Pumpkins?”

Luke turned around at the sound of your voice. “Blink-182” he answered with a small smirk.

“Uh, of course,” you said as you walked closer to him. “Alright, listen. You were right.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you continued with a smile. “So, it turns out I may or may not be in love with this certain guy, and he may or may not be my type or whatever it is my siblings say.”

Luke took a step closer to you. “There’s a chance this guy thinks I’m going through a phase and only fake dated him to piss off my siblings and mother but the truth is… I don’t even care about them whenever I’m with him.” 

His hand moved to caress your cheek, “That’s cute and all but how does this guy know you truly mean that?” 

“I’m not going to make out with him at the bonfire, so I guess all he needs to do is believe me,” you whispered, your eyes moving from Luke’s eyes to his lips.

Luke smiled before answering, “Believe you? That’s alright with me,” and pressing his lips to yours.

Luke was right. Aphrodite would be proud. 

[polyo-nym-y]

Bon Appétit~

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Alastor x Female!Reader

| Warnings: 18+ content. MDNI!! ooc Alastor, established relationship(kinda), quick smut with no plot, biting, blood, cunnilingus, fingering, hair tugging etc |

[Part 2 <3]

Hello, I’m Nym! This is my first time posting my writing ever!

This horny little community has me so inspired I couldn’t help but write something small. (4,666 words to be exact ;3 tried to get the funny devil number).

Also fair warning I wrote this a bit intoxicated so I apologize if it’s poorly written. But I hope you heathens enjoy it nonetheless <3

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Alastor retired to his tower as soon as the sky turned to a dark burgundy. He sat on his bench in front of his radio equipment. Fountain pen in hand and eagerly doodling away with a calm smile. Coat retired to its stand and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Finding these late nights to be rare moments when he could allow himself to relax.

Though both his pen and music paused as he heard the trap door rustle behind him. “Hm?” Amused, he set his pen down and sits up from the bench. Coming around to the hatch he stood right beside it. A deep inhale taken as his grin grew recognizing the familiar smell of you. Bending at his hips as one hand swiftly opened the door. The other hand held out to offer assistance to his surprise guest.

The sudden opening of the hatch earned a gasp from you. Nearly losing your grip on the metal bars that you climbed up. You blinked at the hand offered to you before smiling and accepting the help eagerly.

“Now what do I owe this pleasure?” His usual cheery showman tone buzzed in your ears. With ease, he helped pull you up through the trap door, kicking it closed after. His eyes curiously noted the wicker basket you held in your other arm. “Well no wonder you had difficulty coming in!”

You chuckled nervously as he immediately points out the basket you brought. But what else did you expect? It’s Alastor, perceptive as ever. “The climb wasn’t so hard but by the time I had reached the door I was pretty tired…” you admitted with a glance running up his unusually relaxed form. His grin somehow managed to only make your own smile increase. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important. I couldn't sleep and thought I could just drop in and say hello!" You watched as one of his brows rose, earning an audible swallow from you. "Well, actually, I haven’t seen much of you today... or this week really. So I was honestly getting a bit curious about what you've been up to.” You wiggled the basket to him before setting it down on a small side table. “This is my apology for bargin’ on in.”

“Like always I appreciate your honesty, dear.” He folded his arms behind his back as he followed you to the table. With your back turned to him he took the time to slowly look you up and down. Noting the sweet white nightgown you wore that ended right above your knees. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun and you were wearing your slippers. All of this told him you really were in bed before deciding to come to him. His thoughts hesitated when he watched you open the basket. Pulling out a glass decanter of whisky and two matching cups to go with it.

You turned to face him, jumping slightly when you realized he had moved so close to you. With a laugh you waved him off. “Why don’t you put on some tunes for us, yeah?”

A staticky hum left him as he watched you for a few more seconds. He’d nod softly before spinning on his heels to do as you requested. One hand manually turning the music back on while the other subtly snapped behind his back. The music loud enough to just barely cover the sound of the hatch door locking.

He leaned against the desk of his radio station and watched you again. His grin soft as he couldn’t help but relax even more with the jazz on. “So! You really don’t have anything you wanted to talk about? Truly just stopping by to see what I’m doing ?” He pushed, teasingly.

You poured each other a glass before approaching him with his. He nodded in thanks as he took it from you. “Ha ha! No...” You stood in front of him with both hands nervously around your cup. His pointed questioning had you avoiding eye contact as you downed the small drink in one gulp. Fighting to not contort your face from the bitter taste.

He couldn’t help but laugh into his glass as he brought it up to his lips. “Really?” You caught his piercing gaze that was sent over the cup, before you watched him take a sip. “Because a nice glass of rye, jazz and sweet company.” He stares into his glass before flicking his gaze down to you again. “I really can’t help but feel like you’re trying to sweeten me up~”

The look he sent down had heat quickly washing over your body. Feeling the warmth settle on your cheeks and between your hips. He was teasing you but he didn’t seem upset by your presence. That thought seemed to encourage you, though you definitely needed another drink before you spilled your guts.

A nervous smile being sent to him as you put your finger up. “One- one moment.” You quickly approached the decanter where you left it on the side table. Your cup was filled with just a shot as you quickly knocked it back.

He finished his own drink before mindlessly setting the empty cup on the desk behind him. His smile stretched into a wide grin as he watched you desperately try to gain some liquid courage. He could easily help you right now, as he had an assumption on what this was about. There was no denying the odd connection the two of you had developed during your time here. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm and he was a very patient man when it came to torture.

Which is exactly what this felt like to you, torture. Staring into the empty cup for only a moment longer before leaving it on the table with the basket. You took rushed steps back up to Alastor as you shot your gaze up to meet his.

“Go on, darling, speak your mind.” He encouraged you with a shit eating grin. Your embarrassment and nervousness began to twist and settle in your stomach.

“I…” you slowly started, watching him tilt his head. Your gaze quickly shot to the side as the rest of your words came out rushed. “I would like to touch you-“

His brows shot to his hairline as he stiffened. He knew your intentions were along these lines. However, the sudden bluntness still caught him off guard.

A nauseating silence settled between the two of you, save for the jazz that still played in the background. You began regretting saying anything as your mouth opened to try and form words. You wanted to take it back with every fiber of your being. Eyes still glued to anywhere that wasn’t him. “I-uh wait no. I don’t mean like that- well I wouldn’t mind but- what I mean is- look you don’t have to say anything I know it’s a strong no and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I just needed to be honest-“

Alastors eyes never left you as he watched your reactions carefully. You never could lie to him and when you did it was never for long and never done well. So he knew your intentions were pure and your words were genuine. Usually, he wouldn’t even bother thinking it over. It never seemed of any interest to him in all his prior years of living and death. However, with you? He found himself weighing his options. Because he also wanted to touch you. He wanted to invade your personal space more than he would usually. You were different to him, it was apparent since day one.

“Alright.” he watched you snap your gaze up to him so suddenly he could’ve sworn he heard your neck crack. Shock written over your features as he pushed himself off from leaning against the desk.

“Wait, what?” You asked stunned as your eyes followed his movements. His body shifted slightly to the bench right beside him, smoothly lowering to sit.

“I’m giving you permission, my dear.” After making himself comfortable he motioned you to come closer. Obediently, you shuffled slowly up to him as he spoke again. “Although we will need to discuss terms first.”

You stopped a foot from his seated form. “Terms?” You questioned half listening. You were more focused on greedily taking in his relaxed state. Shamelessly appreciating the sight of him, no doubt thanks to the two drinks. Your eyes were on his lap, scanning down his exposed forearms and stopping on his large hands that ended with sharp red tips.

“Yes, darling, terms.” He noticed your eyes on other parts of him. Slightly bothered you weren't focused on what he was saying. His hand you were staring at quickly snapped at you and gestured to look up at him. “You didn’t think I’d give you such an honor without getting something in return, did you?” His words were laced with venomous mockery.

With your eyes now held with his you hesitated to speak. Feeling your cheeks start to burn more. “I didn’t.. expect to get to at all, so…” your words were so quiet and uncertain. His ears flicked atop his head as he tried to hear you clearly over the music.

“Speak up, dear, you must use your words properly if we are going to do this.” He leaned back into the bench as he glanced you up and down. Allowing you to deliciously simmer in your own embarrassment. “My terms are rather simple. If I allow you to touch me-“ he placed a hand against his chest. “Then it’s only fair I get to touch you too, right my dear?” Dramatically his hand flicked from his chest to gesture to you. Palm being held out for you to accept. “Deal?”

You swallowed dryly as you stared at his large hand. “You want to touch me?” Eyes flicking between his black palm and his red half-lidded gaze. “And we get like.. free roam? Touch.. anywhere?” The mere thought of having his hands on you had you pressing your thighs together. In this moment, you would let him do anything he wanted to you without hesitation. What you were really worried about was his comfort. If you were to upset him by making him uncomfortable, you’d want to die, again.

A static heavy chuckle was forced from him. The fingers on his outstretched hand flexed impatiently. “I wouldn’t say it’s a want from me.” He lied. “Rather so, curiosity? Yes, let's call it curiosity.” Even now he was going to ensure he had the upper hand. “But if you don't want me touching you and you’d rather just chinning*..” his offered hand curled his fingers in and then withdrew to his lap. “No skin off my nose, dear.”

Physically witnessing his hand draw back had panic rising in you. Like this rare opportunity was about to be lost forever. He watched amused as your eyes widened and you stumbled forward slightly with the force in which you spoke. “NO-“ you both cringed at the sudden rise in volume. “No- I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want you to- it’s quite the opposite actually..”

He watched you shuffle closer until your knees hit his. Again, he noticed your gaze lingered on other parts of him rather than his eyes. “Then spill. What do you want?”

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. “I.. I want your touch on me, Alastor. More than my want to touch you. You’d turn Hell into Heaven if I could only have your attention on me..” His smile widened when you finally raised your eyes to meet his again. “But I’m worried about upsetting you, Alastor. Having permission to freely touch you seems…too good to be true? And to hear you intend to touch me as well? Whether it’s a want or just curiosity I could care less. Fuck, Al, I’ll feed that curiosity however you want.”

A genuine and loud laugh rumbled from his chest. “Oh ho! what a desperate and pathetic display you are giving me.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on you. “What can I say? I suppose I’m feeling rather charitable tonight.” Slowly he leaned forward, his hands sliding down his thighs. His fingers gently wrap around your wrists. Watching carefully for any resistance to his touch. “And I promise, Mon Cher, I’ll let you know if I don’t like something. So you needn’t worry about upsetting me.” Truthfully, he’d be quick to wrench your hands away from any area he didn’t like. “You’ll do the same for me, right?”

With a sneaky smirk he brought your hands to his face. Gently grazing his lips across your knuckles. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine as you watched him breathlessly. To his surprise though you shook your head no. “I won’t need to.”

A sadistic glint shined in his ruby eyes as he smirked against your hands. The gentle kindness he planned on showing you began to slip. “Oh? Is that so?” A sudden yank of your wrists had you falling into his chest. His warm hands glided down from your wrists to help guide your knees on either side of him. He fussed with your positioning until he was satisfied with your thighs straddling his lap. Taking a gleeful glance at your flustered expression and rigid body. “You sound so certain. What if I wanted to eat you whole? What would you say then?”

He leaned back into the bench as he observed you intently. Heat settled over your entire body as you stiffly fidgeted on top of him. Embarrassed, you didn’t want to rest your full weight on him. But his hands had a firm grip on your hips, pressing you down ever so slightly to keep you in place.

Sweaty hands hesitantly came to rest on his chest, fingers gently crawling up to the top of his shoulders. “What would I say?” your words slipped from your lips like a whisper. Your desire and need for him outweighed your nerves drastically. His hands squeezed the flesh at your hips when he felt you finally relax into him. Entranced, he watched a soft smile settle on your face before you spoke. “Bon Appétit.”

Chest heaving, nostrils flaring and eyes like a hungry animal. With those words, something snapped in him. It quite literally took everything in him in that moment to not simply swallow you whole right then and there.

His jaw clenched as a loud static began to swarm around the two of you. He felt his mouth water as he swallowed, having to clear the excess saliva that pooled around his tongue. Savor her, he repeated in his head, you must savor your meal. The buzzing static overtook the music completely until it disappeared with a loud pop, earning a flinch from you. His mouth opened with a purr “Merci.”.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down to close the space between you two. His warm lips ghosted across your own, so close yet so far. Every coherent thought you once had was muddled and drowned. The unexpected intimacy that Alastor was giving you had your heart hammering against your ribs. In that moment you decided firmly, you’d completely give in to him and this desire.

One hand of his shifted from your hip and up your side. Talons trailing up until his fingers laced in your hair, pulling the tie that held it up. As you felt your hair fall freely you tried to close the space between you completely. Lips hungrily wanting to capture his.

He was quick, however, as the hand that remained at the back of your head tightened its grip. Fingers firmly tugging at the roots to guide your head back. A desperate whine leaving you as he forced your lips away from his. “What happened to both of us getting to touch? Or is kissing off limits?” You asked half joking as he dipped his head to place a soft kiss under your jaw. His lips settled comfortably on your now exposed throat as he inhaled deeply.

“You are touching, mon cher. A lot more than anyone else has.” He reminded you with a smirk against your flesh. You felt his lips part as warm breath ghosted the vulnerable skin of your throat. Your fingers trailed further up from his shoulders and up the back of his neck. You shuddered against him as his warm tongue licked a wet strip up. “I wonder, do you taste as delicious as you smell?”

“Al-“ you let out a sharp yelp as you feel a hot stinging pain begin to bloom on your shoulder. Instinctively, with your fingers in his hair, you tried to yank his head away much like he did to you. But he refused to be removed from his tasty meal. He let a low growl out with his lips still suctioned to you, a warning. You hadn’t expected him to literally taste you but it was foolish of you to expect anything less from a cannibal.

Your thoughts began to fog as you felt him suck the blood from your wound. His cock twitched beneath you as if the blood he drank from you went straight to his groin. Any previous intentions on partaking on your end of the deal was long gone. You couldn’t care less about where your hands were. The only thing that mattered now was that his hands remained on you.

You bit your lip trying to hold in the small yelps in pain as he attacked the wound he made. Prodding and poking trying to coerce as much blood as he could without literally tearing a chunk from you.

Desperately, needing more than just his feasting mouth, you rolled your hips against his. You stuttered your movements as he sunk his teeth deeper into you in response. Another whimper left your parted lips as his name tumbled out like a prayer. “Alastor-“

He sighed through his nose, having to will himself to release your tasty flesh. Slowly blinking his eyes open as he lifted up with a suctioned pop. Leaning back to take in the beautiful sight of your bloody and bruised shoulder. He watches closely as beads of red quickly begin to pool and drip over your collar bone. Bleeding into the pure white of your nightgown.

“Beautiful, Mon Cher, absolutely beautiful.” His lips parted to show a bloody grin. His eyes were glazed over as if the taste of you was more intoxicating than the drink he had a moment ago. “You did so good.” You felt his grip in your hair loosen as his fingers brushed through. With his now free hand he began to smear the blood on your shoulder, earning a wince from you. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” His hand cupped your cheek and you could feel your blood sticking your flesh to his, like glue. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb as he brought his face close to yours again. “Do you want a taste?”

Before you could even begin frantically nodding, he already captured your lips in his. Pulling back just enough to use his thumb to wrench your mouth open. You gave him no resistance as he dove back in. His tongue eagerly exploring the entirety of your mouth. Spreading the taste of your own blood.

He swallowed a muffled moan as both hands slipped to your hips. Fingers digging into clothed flesh as he grinded you into him. “See?” His lips parted from yours with a pink tinged dribble of saliva connecting you to him. “Delicious, aren’t you?”

Quickly, you licked the bloody spittle on his lips. “If I say yes will you-“ a moan interrupted your sentence as his hands continued to grind you against his hardened cock. “-f-fuck please just fucking touch me-“

“I am touching you, mon cher.” His hands slowed to grind on him at an agonizing pace. The friction slick as you fully drenched your panties and began to seep into the front of his pants. “Remember, use your words.”

“Alastor, p-please-“ your words trembled as you tried to retain some sense of composure. But the teasing feeling of him beneath his pants was going to drive you insane. With a shaky breath you leaned away from him. One hand grasping the hem of your nightgown and yanking it up to your chest. Your other hand sliding fingers under the hem of your underwear to pull them down ever so slightly. His gaze shooting down immediately to take in the erotic sight of your pubic hair barely poking out. “Please just eat me already.”

“How could I say no when you’re pleading so sweetly?” In a blink of an eye he had his hands holding you against him. With a chuckle he stood from the bench, his hands cupping your ass to carry you with him. Your own hands quickly grab his shoulders to keep yourself from falling.

You’re swung around as you hear crashing behind you. Alastors shadow-y tendrils quickly swiping his desk clear in order to make space for you. A gasp leaving you as your back is dropped onto the hard surface with a thud. His hands holding your legs at his hips by the pits of your knees. His taller frame towering over you as you lay sprawled under him.

The grin that spread across his face had you squirming. His warm hands pull you by your legs until your ass is completely off the desk. With only your upper half resting against the hardwood, your stomach does flips, feeling like you’ll fall. But his hold on you is firm as he lowers to his knees. Effortlessly, your legs are settled over his shoulders. You’re practically panting in anticipation as you feel him chuckle against your inner thighs. “Nervous, dear? You’re shaking.”

“Shut up-“ A groan is ripped through clenched teeth as he sinks his teeth into the plump flesh of your right thigh. Hissing, you latch your hand into his hair. He gave no reaction to your grip as he enjoys lapping at the new wound. One of his hands sliding up to give your ass a good squeeze.

You hadn’t realized you were clenching your eyes closed until they flew open. Your back arching off the desk as your breathing hitched. The feeling of his warm tongue running up your clothed slit had you feeling sparks. The blood on his tongue seeped into the already damp fabric, adding another stain to you. “F-Fuck- Jesus Christ-“ he ran his tongue up again slowly, ending with a nice flick to your clit.

“Careful, if you moan other men’s names I’ll become rather jealous.” He hummed against your left thigh as he weaseled a hand between your legs. Sharp talons grabbing hold of the fabric of your underwear and tearing it enough to freely expose his meal.

It was a struggle keeping your eyes opened as you leaned your head forward. Freezing, as you were met with Alastors gaze sent over your exposed sex. He was watching you intently as he brought his face closer to your aching core. “I-I think I’d like to see you jealous.”

“I’m sure you would, you naughty thing.” Finally, without anything blocking his touch, you felt him lap his wet muscle up between your folds. A wispy moan leaves your lips as you remove your hand from his hair. Fingers reaching back to ground yourself against whatever you could on his desk.

The taste of you saturated over his taste buds as a pleased groan rumbled in his chest. His hands wrap around your upper thighs in order to hold you in place. His eyes flicked up trying to see what he could of your reactions. He gave up rather quickly though, losing himself to you fully now.

The juxtaposition of his agonizing teasing now being replaced with determined hunger was almost overstimulating. You couldn’t stop the shake in your legs as he twisted his tongue inside of you. The unnatural length of it reached further than you expected.

His name tumbled from your lips so sweetly it only made him crave your taste more. Fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his face deeper into you. Suffocating himself on your scent as his tongue twisted and flicked inside. When his nose pressed against your clit he felt your walls clench. A cheeky smirk forming against your lower lips. A shudder ran down your spine when you felt his tongue slip out from you. But you didn’t feel empty for long as he easily slipped a finger into you, a second quickly following. You felt yourself forgetting how to breathe as he ruthlessly pumped his fingers into your heat. Erotic squelching filled the small space of his radio room. You hadn’t realized until now that the music was off, ensuring he could hear every sound your body offered him.

His tongue lazily licked your juice from his lips as his eyes flickered between wanting to peer at your face and wanting to watch your sweet pussy taking his fingers so well. “Good girl. Such a good girl, my dear.” You were a moaning mess, unable to respond any other way to his praises.

Your entire body tensed as he brought his lips back to your needy cunt. His mouth suctioned around your sensitive clit. Tongue swiping and flicking, assaulting the bundle of nerves. His fingers stopped their pumping as he pressed as deep into you as he could, fingers bending and focusing on a specific spot. He hummed casually as if he wasn’t making you see stars.

Your body lurched forward as both hands flew to grip his hair. “F-FUCK- A-Ah fuck.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers, cock twitching knowing he had you on that cliff. “So close- please p-please-“

“Hm? Wanting to cum already?” His tone was patronizing as he lifted his mouth from you. A whiny sound coming from you as that build up dimmed slightly, keeping you just before that edge. “I’ll allow it. Only if you’re a good girl and say my name as you cum, understand?”

“Y-Yes- just please-please please-“ Another pleased hum rumbled from him as he lowered back to your sopping heat. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, continuing to stimulate both spots. It only took a moment longer and you finally reached your peak. “ALASTOR-“ A pathetic mewl ripped from your throat as it crashed over you in waves. Every muscle in your body tensed, walls clenching and twitching around his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm. His mouth popping off of you as he wore a wide smirk, lips and chin glistening from the mixture of you and his own saliva.

His fingers didn’t stop massaging your walls until he felt your body relax. Only then did he slip his digits out to greedily lick them clean. His tongue finds its way back to the bite on your thigh. Lapping at the wound while it was still weeping blood. “Thank you for such a delicious meal, my dear.” He would purr as you were still trying to catch your breath. Shifting he moved your legs off from his shoulders in order to stand back up. His warm hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward leaning into you. He helps lift you up just enough to scooch you fully on the desk once more. Your eyes lazily watch him loom back over you as you try to sit up on your elbows. His smile devious as he slips his red talons under his suspenders, slowly slinking them off of his shoulders as he purred down to you. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?”

And you then knew that your night was far from over…

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*Chinning: 20s slang meaning ‘talking’.

[obbystars]

It hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you.

NOTES: dividers by @cafekitsune !!

( Written before 2.2 / Kinda short tbh / Boothill may be OOC / not really angst as it turns into fluff tbh / I blame this / title was chosen because I was listening to the song at the time / GN!Reader )

It took a while for Boothill to even get used to this new life, or new body. Every time he looked at himself, he’s reminded of what was stolen from him. For a time, he hated his body. He sometimes wished he stayed dead. He feels so cold. He didn’t… He never wanted this, though as time passed, he grew accustomed to it. He eventually accepted it, but it never stopped those thoughts from worming their way back into his head.

He doesn’t quite feel… human. Nothing about him truly felt human.

“Boothill? You still there?” The voice was barely above a whisper.

“Hm?”

The gentle beating of a heart entered his ears. He felt warm. He felt a warm hand gently rubbing his face. Another hand was playing with a few strands of his hair before it was now gently brushing it. He opened his eyes, finding himself in an all too familiar room. One he had always looked forward to going back to once he finally had time to spare.

And underneath him? His favorite person, of course. Someone he always looked forward to seeing again, to spending more time with. He looks up at you, and you took note of his expression.

“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up?”

He shook his head, burying his face into your chest and closing his eyes again, “No, no ya didn’t... Don’t worry ‘bout it,”

His arms were wrapped securely around your waist, trapping you in bed with him. You wiggled around in his grip for a bit to get a bit comfortable, resulting in you having to move him further up. His face was now in the crook of your neck.

Was he crushing you? Surely if he was, you would’ve said something or even tried to nudge him away. Were you cold? He hoped not… You did sometimes push him off of you because he was too cold. Sometimes he wishes he could provide you the warmth you always give him, but it’s not like he can feel it anywhere else other than his face. He hated that.

“You okay?” You questioned, your voice snapping him back to reality.

His answer was only a faint hum this time. He feels your hand brush his hair again, and you swear you can just feel him melt under your touch. It surprised you sometimes. A brash, flamboyant Galaxy Ranger, always full of energy and ready for the next journey across the stars almost turning into mush once your hands meet him. It was something you picked up on very quickly, and it didn’t take as long for you to realize why he reacts this way.

“Does it bother you?”

Your hands stop moving through the white strands, “Does what bother me?”

“This… My body. Does it-”

“No. Not at all,” you suddenly cut in, “You get cold sometimes, but that doesn’t bother me. Why do you ask?”

“…it’s nothin’,”

You turn your head to face him, nuzzling him knowing he can feel you there, “Well… It definitely is something, but… Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears,”

He can feel you gently press a kiss on his head, and another, and another, and another. The only place where he can feel you, and you were practically showering him with small kisses.

He feels warm, especially when he’s with you. Maybe that’s why he always looks forward to moments like this with you because for once, even if it’s just for a moment, he feels human.

ehhh, this felt better in my head but oh well, I just really wanted to write Boothill

I don’t regularly post fics or hcs like this but maybe I’ll make a silly side blog for it if I do find myself wanting to write so much more for Boothill ( I literally love him so much )

[tuxebo]

[ 🗯 : in this line of work, you always end up alone. ]

disclaimer: i cannot control if the characters act ooc in some responses, please rate them accordingly with the stars to prevent ooc responses as you continue.

chat with mindanao ! we hit 68k interactions omg im squealing.

prev. ‹ docs. › next. (reqs are open!)

✧ — miles morales:

¹ VISITING YOUR FAVORITE SPIDER-MAN: (best friends to lovers + playdate energy) per your usual routine, you decide to visit your best friend and spend the day helping him fight crime on earth 1610.

² KISSES BEFORE DINNER: (uses of lipstick + mama rio almost catches you) you and miles were alone in his room, you on his lap as you peppered his face with kisses. not realizing how risky that was, mama rio snaps you out of the moment when she calls you to dinner.

³ FALLING ASLEEP ON CALL WITH YOUR IBF: (serious situationship? + long distance friendship) during a late night call, you decided to fall asleep on call together. as much as he'd rather hold you in his arms, this would do for now.

⁴ HE LEARNED TO RIDE A MOTORCYCLE: (established relationship + twin miles) you met your boyfriend through his twin. unlike you and his brother, miles was a goody-two-shoes so to impress you he decides to try something new.

✧ — miles morales (e42):

¹ PHOTO BOOTH KISSES: (fem! user + established relationship) some way, some how, you managed to get your boyfriend to go to a photo booth with you. deciding to take advantage of the situation, you pepper his face in kisses, leaving lipstick marks on his face.

✧ — miguel o'hara:

¹ YOU TEND TO GET INTO PETTY ARGUMENTS: (established relationship) you and your husband often find yourselves in petty disagreements. however, this time, he really pissed you off. your solution? taking your ring off.

² LYLA IS THE BEST WING-AI: (friends to lovers + lyla being a good wingwoman) miguel seemed to be the only one who didn't realize just how attached he was to you. in an attempt to get hq running back to normal, lyla calls you back to hq early.

✧ — hobart brown:

¹ KISSES THAT STING: (uses of lip plumper + established relationship) trying out a new plumper, you forgot to warn your boyfriend before giving him a kiss. now you have to explain why your lips sting and what the hell's a plumper.

² BIG BRO DUTIES: (platonic + siblings au) your brother has never had the best relationship with your parents and eventually he moved out as soon he could. as much as he didn't like them, he still cared deeply about you and decided it would be best to keep you safe in the form of his alter ego.

³ WORLDS APART: (platonic or romantic) hobie may not have a means to get to your world, but he'll find away if it means helping you. when he finds out miguel and the spider-society didn't send back up when you needed it, he does just that.

⁴ ANOTHER POINT FOR SPIDER-MAN: (enemies to lovers + hero!hobie x enemy!user) hobie was indifferent to the trivial crimes you committed but once he realized how desperate the police were to catch you, his interest was peaked.

✧ — gwen stacy:

¹ YOUR EARTH WAS ERASED: (best friends to lovers + comfort) you and gwen quickly became best friends after she joined the spider society. such close friend that she had the tendency to come into the room you had at HQ unannounced. one day, she barged in at the wrong time and finds you crying over the earth you lost.

² KISSES ARE ALWAYS THE SOLUTION: (established relationship) while helping gwen with her makeup, you accidentally apply too much lipstick. the only reasonable solution is kissing her so it transfers— obviously.

 ✧ — spider-man noir:

¹ CHESS AND EGG CREAMS: (enemies to lovers) finally, after years of searching for you, peter was able to get you to fall into a trap he crafted so carefully for you. now that you're here, why not play a little game?

² EASING A DETECTIVE OF HIS STRESS: (detective!peter x bartender!user) you couldn't help but notice that the detective that frequents your clubs has been particularly stressed lately. it wouldn't hurt to start with a drink on the house to relieve that stress.

 ✧ — jonathan ohnn (the spot):

¹ BEING THE SPOT HAS ITS PROS AND CONS: (established relationship) you are one of the only people who doesn't find your boyfriend's new form appalling. but that doesn't mean it's any less scare when his head pokes through holes in the walls.

✧ — benjamin reilly:

¹ WORKOUT ASSISTANCE: (established relationship + ben has such himbo energy and i live for it) it's no secret your boyfriend is a BIG fan of exercise, doing so all around your shared apartment. and the last time i checked, staring is no crime.

[jazjelspen]

leaving on wild charted waters [pt.3]

(what if our mc just got tired of Night Raven College and it's inhabitants?)

(how would some of our NRC students react to this?...)

(includes each house leader +ace and deuce! as requested!<3)

(also includes lots of angst!/mention of blood but not a lot/ angst angst angst angst angst--/not proofread/may be ooc and inconsistent in some places(in both the second part and this part) my apologies!! T-T/mention of book7 overblot/did I mention angst?)

it's been over two weeks now, two weeks in RSA.

so far you've met the headmaster of the school, Ambrose LXIII, with the guidance of Rielle. the headmaster understood your circumstances and talked to you about how he'll try his best to find a way back home for you, and to ease up any of your doubts and concerns he even said he'll promptly ask a student to hand you a report from him of any progress he's made to ensure a safe passage back home for you!

even without having to be an official student or enroll they let you stay in the same dorm as Rielle with your own dorm room as a temporary stay here... and your dorm room was actually nice and well set up! like a hotel room... you were relieved you didn't have to worry about the ceiling cracking and falling on your face for the rest of your nights here.

and to your amazement the headmaster kept his word, unlike Crowley. any report of progress was mostly driven by research but he did mention a lot of Twisted Wonderland's history to connect to any potential gateways back to your world... and this felt way better than whatever Crowley was doing so it was like a breath of fresh air.

finally for the first time ever you've been able to feel like you’re several steps closer to seeing your friends and family back home!... every time you'd think about it you'd get goosebumps of excitement.

during these past few days you've met an enormous amount of friends! most of them being Rielle's while others were outside of the inner social circle but still all of them were friendly or just got along in some way or form, it seemed almost magical. aside from Rielle one of your other closest friends was this boy of green eyes and long, and I mean long blonde hair that usually either dragged behind him or was in a huge braid, he was actually the one who healed your broken arm and wounds with his magical healing powers from his hair! and now you're able to be more active again!

Raps is his name, and he was usually always called upon and under strict supervision by his father whom was a professor there... but you weren't sure if they are related by blood or not since the professor had dark black curls and grey eyes rather than the yellow haired boy's more bright features, but you never really bothered to ask or wonder much. in the end you two got along well and actually had a bit in common! mostly due to the fact that you both can relate to the feeling of being trapped, restrained.

in the end you absolutely loved your temporary stay here so far, you hoped no overblots would ruin your experience... so you never really let your guard down but nonetheless it was relaxing.

we wouldn't be able to say the same for Night Raven College and everyone you left behind though!

Meanwhile in Night Raven College....

it was after classes ended on this cold and grey day when five particular freshmen and a student robot of NRC have been grouping up after school for the past week for one particular reason only...

"where could they be?? we've searched everywhere! the halls, the classrooms, the garden, forest, the shore... it's like they disappeared from thin air!" exclaimed the ace, Ace Trappola to be exact.

"we've looked everywhere Ace, what also irks me is that even Vil has been harsher on the entire dorm since they disappeared." the apple of the group, Epel Felmier, sighed in frustration on the brink of snapping.

"...but could they have been taken, kidnapped?... I'm sure Grim would've heard of any struggle but we haven't even heard from the cat." spoke the wolf of the group, Jack Howl.

"no.. Grim has been avoiding us like the plague and even managed to sneak away from us several times. not sure where he could be hiding now aside from the old ramshackle dorm but-- even yet he always manages to slip through our hands!..." the spade spoke worryingly, Deuce Spade was deeply concerned for your safety and confused over Grim's actions.

"that human!! they've been driving the young master mad! all he's been talking about is where they could be and if they are alright!!... and every time I come back to him it's like the sky and his excellence himself just keeps getting worse and worse!.." the loudest knight of Malleus Draconia, Sebek Zigvolt, exclaimed loudly with worry for both the prefect and his young master... but more worried about the young master's train of thought with how worse the clouds have been getting with the most terrible rain and thunder when each day goes by.

"my big brother hasn't been sleeping at all.. way worse than when he has his game marathons. he's constantly looking for any digital footprint they could've left or even trying to hack into their location but it always overrides somehow... it always says that the device is dead or nonexistent." the younger of the shroud brothers, Ortho Shroud, is seen stressing over you and his big brother, Idia Shroud. "with the amount of information my big brother has been trying to look through it could possibly even make me short circuit."

the entire group was at a frustrating dead end for any clue of your disappearance aside from all your everyday items being left behind and your last known scent to be in the ramshackle dorm and at the very edge of the sea. other than that no one has much of a clue.

well they have been hearing from students that a ship appeared as quickly as it disappeared in the night/very early morning before anyone was up, and that one rumor caused other different kinds of rumors to spread like wildfire. some say you were abducted by pirates, stolen by mischievous pixies, suddenly teleported back into your world without warning, or even... that you have finally left on your own. everyone acknowledged the rumors but they didn't want to think about the reality, the cold hard truth, that you really could've left.

if only they knew how terrible their house leaders took it too.

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

(requested characters)

Ace: the ace, one of the first people you've met. he's always been a funny and childish friend, sometimes he made you laugh and cry of joy from his terrible yet funny jokes and antics while other times said antics would get you in trouble. he didn't want to accept that he could be part of the reason why you're gone, which is why he tried to convince himself and everyone else around that you were taken instead of leaving voluntarily... he wouldn't be able to handle the guilt and heartbreak to accept that you truly left. he loved you, he truly cared for you and your well-being-- he knew he had a hard time to express these feelings but you were his best friend! of course he cared for your health! but... he couldn't handle the fact that maybe just maybe... he wasn't there for you enough to stay with them a little longer.

he could still remember the first day that you were gone, you weren't in any of your classes-- the teachers didn't even call your name when taking attendance anymore. it was utterly bizarre. Grim was still in his classes yet he sat far away from any students that knew you and disappeared after every class ended.. it was as if he was hiding something. and he was, but Ace and Deuce had no idea what it could be aside that they knew it was about you.

in the end, Ace is left heartbroken knowing that he didn't make sure to do enough to help you even when you asked for it from them. he knew that all he and deuce gave you was pure and utter trouble.

and he couldn't accept the fact, so now here he is having his friends look for you when he knew that you were long gone without even saying goodbye.

Deuce: the spade, one of the first people you've met alongside the ace, a passionate yet slow boy with a heart of gold. as much as he cared for you too the way Ace did he knew that even he wasn't helping either. he knew they should've done more or at least what you asked of them. but now you're gone, and just like Ace it seems as if he too is in denial about their part in your disappearance. he truly wants to believe that you didn't leave on your own even if all evidence was starting to slowly point to that possibility.

unlike Ace though, he seemed to be accepting it faster than him. he still followed along with the story that you were taken but he knew that after all the trouble, all the overblots, all your injuries-- he knew you just couldn't handle it anymore. after all it was clearly written on your face the day when you awoke from losing consciousness in the last overblot that you were ready to move on and make proper progress to get home.

he just...truly wishes that at least wherever you are that you are at least taking care of yourself with more helpful and reliable friends by your side, something he knew that he and Ace weren't able to do.

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

(your dorm leaders)

Riddle

inside of the dorm with pampered red roses adorning every corner was the queen of hearts of the Heartslabyul dorm completely and utterly tearing his dorm room into shreds in pure red rage. 

Riddle Rosehearts was fuming, heartbroken, and betrayed on so many levels that he hasn't felt in a good while. hearing from Cater and Trey about your disappearance and then hearing from other of his dorm students about the ship that sailed here as quickly as it left in the late hours of the night/very early hours of the morning.

he immediately assumed that you were kidnapped and in danger! he even marched to the headmaster's office to report your disappearance with other dorm leaders!... well actually-- surprisingly they all came at the same time without planning. but in the end when approaching Crowley with this question of 'where is the prefect?', the headmaster was calm, horrifyingly calm, and said a phrase that shook him on many levels with his fellow dorm leaders beside him.

"they parted ways with us to find other opportunities at finding their home! they felt too bad to tell you all so they just left."

"but they will be coming back to say goodbye before they go back home-- if they find a way back home... right?" spoke the leader of Ignihyde, for the first time out of his room.

"unlikely!" exclaimed the headmaster with a smile.

that one first phrase that headmaster Crowley told them was all that he needed to hear, in the moment of processing what he's heard everything was basically fading away as he also slowly but quickly ran back to his dorm room, in tears.

he was so angry, so furious, so emotional, so... he felt as if his own heart had been grabbed and thrown out of his chest. 'why couldn't you at least say goodbye??' he'd think.

he has never thrown so many books, ripped up so many letters he's written for you from himself that he never dared to send or give, and cut up then stepped on so many bouquets of roses in his room with your name on the tags.

wait...

oh, those roses. 

he stopped dead in his tracks with tears streaming down his face as he pathetically dropped down to his knees at the sight of all the five sad 'bouquets' of fresh red roses he planned to give you, now all had their petals and stems broken, torn, shredded, and crushed.

he then realized he didn't have his gloves on anymore... his palms had small yet prominent holes that were dripping red, red as the roses he destroyed. seems like the roses had thorns. 

ahh..he remembers now... 

those roses were meant just for you. 

Leona:

"what do you mean you still haven't found the herbivore yet?..." spoke the ruthless Kingscholar lion of Savannaclaw in a low yet snarly tone "I doubt they could've swam themselves out of here with waters like the ones this place has anyway. you all are likely not even looking right." he huffed as he closed his eyes with his body on the ground of the botanical garden facing away from the hyena gasping for air due to all the running that he had to do to bring the news to Leona.

Ruggie took a few deep breathes and quick pants before speaking "...we've already got twelve other students including the Ignihyde dorm leader's younger brother and the vice-dorm leader of Pomefiore, a robot and a hunter, looking around and no one's found them! Howl already tried to sniff them out and all we came up with was nothing much but just a faint smell of them from the shore." he huffed and panted in exhaustion.

Leona just scoffed "as I mentioned before, you're all still probably not looking in the right places."

Ruggie tried to intercept but knew that even if he did it'd be fruitless and gain nothing from trying to correct Leona, yet he was frustrated too and wanted to know where you could be as well.

but unlike the freshmen at least Ruggie has been starting to accept the possibility that you really have left, forever. Ruggie was about to turn and leave to continue the search and try to sniff out any information from other students until---

"Bucchi." Leona broke the short silence with a throaty command for his attention which he certainly achieved with both of Ruggie's ears poking up to hear his next set of words.

"keep participating in the search for the prefect. If all continues to come up dry, then I'll just have to take this into my own hands."

and this time without trying to speak a single word back he nodded with a quick and stern 'mhm' before scurrying off to help the rest of the students. once the hyena was gone Leona then had his eyes look up through one of the many windows in the garden that are presenting the sky's ever growing storm. oh how much he was longing for you.

he could still remember as if it was yesterday, when Crowley told all of the house leaders the news after they all abruptly showed up at the same time.

"they parted ways with us to find other opportunities at finding their home!"

that phrase.. he remembered how taken aback he was.

Leona slammed his fists on the headmaster's table "parted. ways?? as in they left NRC?!" a low growl came from inside his throat as Headmaster Crowley contained his eerily calm smile on his face.

"Sir Kingscholar I must insist you to control your temper." he spoke in his usual annoying and irritating voice "It's what they decided and were set on, end of story."

Leona couldn't remember much else after that blow out since all he did right after that was back away and stayed stuck in his thoughts until finally he just left the room suddenly. He didn't listen to any conversations that happened after that since all he could think was 'why not at least say goodbye?'

he finished recounting the moment before he mumbled to himself "I still have too much to say to you.",

but really he hoped that somehow somewhere you could still hear him. even if you probably left them for good.

Azul:

The sea witch of the Octavinelle dorm was pacing back and forth in every corner across his office in the Mostro Lounge. He's tried his best to squeeze out any information out of any of his dorm students or employees about the prefect with the help of his left and right hand eels ,Jade and Floyd Leech, with Floyd being the most productive yet not catching much information aside from the students he's squeezed the air out of exclaiming about some ship that has left in the midst of the night way pass midnight but too early to be morning. It intrigued all three yet it made our octopus pop a few nerves with how panicky he's been.

when he first heard this rumor it made him run to the headmaster's office with the immense fear that you could've been taken. he could remember his glasses slipping off at every bounce he made with each step of his run. he could remember the moment he opened the door to the headmaster's office along with the sudden appearance of all of his fellow house leaders in the same room..(excluding Malleus as usual) he could still feel the sweat dripping down his face, the crazy and misplaced strands of hair from his usual look, his glasses lopsided, and the scarf of his uniform threatening to fall off his shoulder-- of course he attempted to fix every one of these details on the spot to look somewhat presentable.

yet the answer he got from the headmaster was nothing short of soul-crushing for him. he asked a continuous amounts of questions as to why and how but all were dodged by the headmaster and answered with a short,

"it's just what they decided."

now he's just back into his office now diving head first into his work and school. much to his dismay it only kept him distracted for a temporary amount of time and in the dark of night under his covers all he could think about is you, just you.

he truly wished he could've been a part of your world.

Kalim:

the generous sultan of the Scarabia dorm was sulking in his room with his friend Jamil sitting by his side. Kalim was heartbroken over your disappearance and he remembers how worried sick he was at first. he like many assumed you were kidnapped and he was even waiting for some kind of ransom note to appear and he would've paid full price and more... but when he and other dorm leaders came to talk their concerns all they got was the news that you left voluntarily.

he was one of very few that felt that in their hearts you'd come back. one way or another Kalim felt in his broken heart that you'd appear as suddenly as you disappeared and unlike other dorm leaders he wouldn't put it against you to the slightest. he wouldn't hold grudges or be mad at you if you ever came back, in fact he understood why you'd leave and he was all up for making everything ten times better than before just so you'd never leave him again.

"you have to be realistic here, Kalim. for all we know maybe they found a way home faster than they did here, or they found a place where they don't have to worry about the next overblot or what their next meal will be." Jamil tried to be straightforward and blunt with Kalim, he didn't want him to have hope that you'd come back and then actually never coming back. "we don't know and may never know unless some kind of obvious sign shows that they will actually come back... but just don't keep your hopes up. for your sake." Jamil stood up from the edge of the bed to walk towards the exit of the room "I'll be back, I have to make dinner so you won't go to sleep starving."

With Jamil leaving Kalim then jumped out of his bed to open his window, the sky still not clear of the grey clouds and still not dark enough for the second star of the right to show up but still hoped that his message would still be received by the wishing star.

the platinum blonde boy held his hands together under his lips "please please please please.. please.." Kalim mumbled, wishing with all his heart.

"please, may _____ be safe, sound, and happy... wherever they are.."

Vil:

in the dorm of the fairest queen was the dorm leader watching from up above behind the tallest window of his room. clenching both of the red velvet curtains in his hands as he watched a group of freshman and a robot, including one of his own, group up and talk hectically and stressfully to each other. Vil Schoenheit knew very well why this particular group of students were talking in such an exaggerating manner, after all... with what Rook has told him and what he's heard from various students around the school it was most definitely about you.

as collected and uncaring as he tried to seem right now he could definitely feel worry and a kind of anger bubble up inside him. 

'could you really have left?' he thinks.

remembering what the headmaster said and all the bits of evidence he and Rook have picked up it seemed that it was certainly the case.

"they parted ways with us to find other opportunities at finding their home! they felt too bad to tell you all so they just left." spoke the headmaster.

you really did leave without saying goodbye.

he couldn't completely blame you, as silent and busy as he was he obviously knew that his and the rest of the overblots and people that surrounded you were bringing you down. it's why he invited you at times for make-overs, spa days, and everything in between to at least brighten up your spirits whenever he could.

"I suppose all of that wasn't enough for you." Vil mumbled to himself as he aggressively thrashed both curtains he held in each hand inward to close off the view of the storm clouds from the sky, to stop those clouds from taunting him any longer.

that and because he couldn't let anyone from out his window see the mascara dripping down his face.

"Roi de Poison?..." his hunter spoke in a calm and hesitant voice, noting that this isn't exactly the time to try to make conversation.

and he was right "Rook!--" Vil seemed to have jumped, immediately yet carefully wiping his mascara-filled tears with a handkerchief on him. "what is so important that you had to come in without knocking??" he exclaimed as he has yet to face his hunter.

"Roi de Posion... there is something your eyes must see to believe." he seemed to take out his phone with an image on his screen.

"Well get on with it then!" Vil exclaimed before he finally turned to face Rook in dramatic motion, eyes still a bit bloodshot even from the few tears he had.

Rook carefully approached Vil, phone in hand, once he took one last look on the screen to make sure it showed what he wanted to show the hunter then finally faced the screen towards his dorm leader with hesitance.

it was a Magicam account, someone's most recent post...from yesterday..

it was Neige.

but.. wait... that person by his side.. it couldn't be--

why were you in Neige's Magicam post?

Idia:

dorm leader of the underworld Ignihyde, has not been sleeping as much as he should be. of course he's never slept well in the first place but it's just been getting worse since the ramshackle prefect has left.

currently Idia Shroud was looking for any digital footprints he could find, trying to track your location, trying to figure out where you could be. in the end it was all for naught since for the past week or two he's found nothing and basically has given up at this point.

he leaned back against his gaming chair and with a sigh of disappointment, he didn't want to accept what Crowley told all of the house leaders in his office. he knew that there's some kind of trace of you out there somewhere, he felt like it was up to him to find the person who bothered to give him the time of day and attention that he'd never thought he'd get.

the light from his screens were causing his eyes to become dry and almost bloodshot, each blink hurting his mind and his focus. that was until a notification came from his phone.

that's strange.. no one ever sends him messages unless it's in game.

he grabbed his phone beside his keyboard to read the message. how odd, it was from the noob Rook Hunt. what would the vice-dorm leader of Pomefiore want anything with him? nonetheless Idia was slightly intrigued yet annoyed, he pressed on the notification to lead him straight to the new chat with the hunter, it said:

"Roi de Ta Chambre, I do hope this finds you well. A little bird told me that you too have been wondering about the safety and whereabouts of our beloved missing prefect. I may have the answer to your worries here."

below the message was a link to a Magicam post under the name of Neige Leblanc. he's heard of the name but was never interested in the petty and do-gooder lives of any of the RSA students. he cautiously pressed on the link to show a photo, a photo of said Neige Leblanc posing with a familiar face... a familiar face that he now wished he didn't see.

it was you, you were with an RSA student...

"tch..." Idia grumbled as he threw his phone back on his desk before he stepped back out of his chair and walked over to his bed "why did i even bother."

he fell face first into his bed and hugged one of his long yet soft pillows tightly, tears quietly falling down on their own slowly, he didn't dare make a sound in case Ortho would come barging in. he continued to cry quietly now acknowleging that you truly did leave without a goodbye, and left with RSA students no less, and with how you treated him before you left-- he dreamed that he might've had a chance with you.

but he should've known, dreams are for rookies.

Malleus:

the dragon prince of Diasomnia was a strange case, unlike every one of his fellow dorm leaders he actually knew that you left by ship. where to though he had no clue.

he remembers that he came to visit you at late hours of the night at the ramshackle dorm like he usually does except he saw you sneak out with nothing but Grim on your back. he followed you walking down to the shore to see a large ship awaiting for a passenger and what shook him a bit more was that the headmaster was there beside the ship, expecting... you. Malleus watched in confusion as you gave your beloved fiery feline a huge and long hug and some shared words with the headmaster. he was about to teleport himself right in front of you when he saw you walk up the gangplank of the ship to hop aboard but he stopped himself when he remembered about your cast.

ahh yes, how could he forget. he gave you the broken arm, the cuts and wounds, he gave them all to you when he overblotted. he knew that you said you had a chance of going back home but he didn't think it'd have you to go by ship.. and without saying goodbye.

in the end he just watched you and the ship disappear, watched Grim slowly walk back to ramshackle, and watched the headmaster disappear on the spot.

for the next few days that passed he's been mourning the loss of your presence, he's almost casted spells to take himself to you-- to retrieve you and hide you in a tower with nothing but him to protect you... to right all the wrongs he's made. he'd bring you fresh flowers every day and make sure to keep you healthy and happy, he'd do anything to have you back.

but he should've held back, every other person who's overblot you had to deal with should've held back. the headmaster should've done his job. then maybe just maybe you would've been able to be in his arms that night when you left.

in the end he was the only one who didn't ever visit the headmaster for any information about you. he had no reason after all he saw you leave.

after he gets a grip on himself though, he will confront Headmaster Crowley for any information as to 'why' he let you leave.

right now all he could ask is why... why why??.. the more he felt stuck in his thoughts the more the storm outside worsened. at this point everyone could see how he's feeling, his entourage of three tried their best to comfort him but it was no use. the prince of thorns was stuck sulking, and he didn't know how else to stop unless you were back into his arms.

he's also been taking way too many naps now, strange to his three knights yet he knew he did this because every time in every one of his dreams he had you in his arms and walked beside you. he had you all to himself in his dreams.

he saw that this was a better solution than being awake.

(THIS IS SUPER LONG and I might've messed up here and there T-T hope it broke a few hearts tho! I tried my very best in each one of their reactions!<3)

[bits-and-babs]

could i be cheeky and ask for some more mandalorian 👀 preferably touch starved din

✦ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐍 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED

din djarin x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words

summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit.

cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 3: PHONE SEX ⇾

Even a kriffing Miraluka, blind as they are, could see how badly Mando desperately wanted you to touch him. The sheer yearning that rolled from The Mandalorian in waves was enough to shift the midichlorians themselves, the fibres of the galaxy trembling whenever you were near him.

Weeks trapped inside the Crest with Mando, far too preoccupied with the tiny green gremlin to pay attention to his needs had taken its toll on the warrior's mentality. Grogu had been pulling at wires, leaving the ship static in dead space and even managed to find a button that sucked the oxygen from the hangar, resulting in a frantic struggle to restore O-Levels to baseline before your lungs shrivelled. A menace to the galaxy, you’d spent more time with your eyes glued to the tiny, green hazard than you had sleeping. 

In turn, Mando was practically trembling with need. He’d let out a shaky sigh every time you sat beside him in the passenger seat, voice-strain evident even with the crackle of the vocoder doing its best to conceal the distress that dripped from each singular-syllable response to your questions. 

In deep space with the child finally down in his cot for a much needed sleep, Mando’s leather gloves creak with the grip he tightens around the controls of the Crest. You hear the grains scream under the pressure as you approach, glancing over the map and the coordinates Greef Karga had offered in Mando’s search for the bounty. It’s cruel, barbaric almost, but you swear you can’t see the digits, numbers far too small for you to see from this close… So you place your palm on Mando’s shoulder, leaning over him in an attempt to get a better view. 

You'd never admit it, but the way you somehow managed to touch him between the Beskar plates of his armour was completely intentional. It was a guilty pleasure, seeing the stoic bounty hunter crumble simply from the pressure of your fingers. His chest heaves, each muscle in his body stiffening under the weight of your fingers. 

Regardless of how heavy the Mandalorian’s stare was, his eyes burning into your skin from behind the tinted visor, you refuse to advance without his request. You pretend not to notice, mouthing the digits of the coordinates to yourself, squinting as though you were unable to see.

It had been weeks of this Loth Cat and Womp Rat game, and poor Mando seems to be reaching the end of his tether.

You finally feel his respove snap when you settle your hand on the nape of his neck, leaning further over his shoulder to ‘check the fuel levels of the Crest was enough to make the journey’. Your fingertips brush the bare skin between the neck of his flight-suit and the edge of his chrome helmet, and Mando nearly doubles over like he's in pain. He chokes out, and you can tell he's already hard, his cock straining against his flight suit.

"Please, please fucking touch me,” Mando’s voice sounds utterly pathetic, a far cry from the vicious warrior that blasted through whole packs of assassin droids.”I can't take it anymore, I ca-ahaaa-" he can't swallow the moan that bleeds through the vocoder when you palm his cock though his suit. You can feel the hard curve of his cock twitch against your palm, even though the thick fabric. A rough squeeze sends Mando’s head rocking back against the seat with a quiet, metallic thunk. 

“It feels like you’ve missed me,” you murmur quietly, feeling his hips jerk against your touch when your voice reaches his ears. Prickling arousal bleeds across your skin at how reactive he is, the usually stoic figure shaking himself apart under your touch.

“M–Missed you so much,” he admits, and you’re almost certain you hear the strain of his teeth from grinding them together, “Hah– Need to feel you on me, nee-d to be in you.”

Offering a soft hum of acknowledgement to his suffering, you spin his seat around slowly. His head seems loose on his shoulders, unable to hold it upright when he sees you sink to your knees in front of him. You almost feel sorry for him, watching how he frantically scrambles to free his cock for you. 

The first drag of your tongue against the arch of his shaft has Mando panic-stricken, his hands grasping the arms of the seat when his dick throbs heavily against your taste buds. 

“Fuck–” He growls, practically choking on his own voice, “C–Can’t!”

“It’s okay,” you whisper against a pulsing vein beneath his velvety skin, “We can do it again…” 

Pre-cum slips from the ruddy head of his cock at your gentle encouragement, a tortured whine rattling in Mando’s lungs. It’s so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was bouncing inside the Beskar walls of his helmet. 

Carefully, you trace the tip of your tongue against the salty head of his cock, letting out a sharp breath when Mando takes a tight fistful of your hair. His chest is heaving, barely able to keep from slurring his words when he begs you to take him into your mouth. 

Slackening your jaw, you hum softly as you take just a few inches. Mando, in what seems like a half hearted attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure, pushes his whole body back against the chair while choking out obscene curses. You’re so slow, trying your best not to overwhelm the poor, devastated man– but the flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and the tip nudging the back of your throat is all it takes to obliterate his self control. 

Mando sounds almost winded by the force with which he cums. His balls pull up so tight, the fingers in your hair clenching to the point your follicles scream beneath the grip. Underneath the Beskar armour, every muscle in his body flexes before the cum hits the back of your throat. Spurts of thick, salty seed paint the inside of your mouth, violent jerks of his shaft causing Mando’s head to fall backwards again, whimpering as you swallow down– swallow around him. 

“Hoh-Fuck–! Stars,” he babbles, wheezing out your name while the last of his cum drips from his cockhead. Pulling from him when his thighs finally start to seize from the overstimulation, you lean your head against Mando’s trembling knees and giggle. He looks utterly exhausted, slumped in his seat and chest heaving as he sucks oxygen into his lungs. 

“Your mouth– hah–” he wheezes out a slight laugh, so unlike the reserved Mando you met in a bar on Corellia. You’d stopped the child from running off into the crowd, and somehow found yourself with the role of babysitting him while following the bounty hunter on his adventures. “It’s so good…”

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, smiling to yourself at the memory of meeting the apathetic, almost grumpy chrome-man as you brush your palm across his thigh and closing your eyes to sweeten the deal, “So is yours. Put it to use and taste me?” You hear the tnk of his helmet touching the ground soon after.

pedro pascal/kinktober taglist:

@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

[not-neverland06]

paranormal love

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes x fem!reader

a/n: Bucky is going to be very OOC for the first half of this. Just trust the author on this one, it will all make sense in time. (Toxic relationships, paranormal happenings - you have been warned)

Summary: Moving into this house was supposed to be the blessing your marriage needed. Instead you only seem to be twisted against each other. Something lurks within these walls, something angry, something lonely. Someone wants you gone, and he’ll do whatever it takes to have his revenge on the woman who left him behind. (Part of my Halloween Palooza)

“Okay,” you say, balancing the camera in your palm, zooming in on James’ back while he unpacks the kitchen boxes. “Wanna smile for the camera?”

He gives you a glance over his shoulder before turning and waving to the camera. He chuckles a little, glancing down at the lens and then back at you. “What are you doing?”

You sigh, placing the camera on the counter and letting it record. “Well, you know how the lady said this place was haunted?”

He rolls his eyes and glares at you. “I told you not to listen to her, that chick was off her meds.” You swat at his arm but he bounces away from you playfully. 

“Shut up,” you mutter, holding back a small laugh. “I just thought that if there were any supernatural happenings,” you nod towards the camera, “we’ll need proof if we’re going to make this a tourist trap.”

James smiles, leaning over to press a brief kiss to your forehead. “Good call, babe.” You smile after him as he heads back out to the truck to bring in more boxes. Your eyes briefly dart to the camera before you shake your head with a disbelieving chuckle. 

Do you believe in the supernatural? Yes. The metaphysical? Depends on who’s trying to sell you their tarot cards. But you do know that when that woman handed you the keys after you bought the place, you’d never seen such stark relief. 

That poor old woman was terrified of living in this house alone. Of course, the old bitch didn’t tell you about all the horrific things that happened here until after you signed the deed. If you had known this place was haunted, even if it’s not, you never would have bought it. 

Sadly, all your money and savings are now tied into this home. James says not to worry, that there’s nothing wrong with the place. But he’s always been a cynic and he’s never really believed in anything so miraculous as ghosts. Besides, he’s the type of guy to argue with you until he’s purple in the face that the sky is red when he’s in a mood. 

There’s no talking him out of this. And you can’t begin your newlywed life arguing with your husband about the place you just made your forever home. Anyways, it’s not like you’ve noticed anything bad yet. 

The camera is mainly a joke to mess with James and make yourself feel better about the whole thing. You’ll turn it off tonight, be done with it, and hopefully get over this irrational fear of yours. 

12 AM

You spit the toothpaste into the sink and rinse your mouth with water. You’ve noticed a strange metallic taste with all the unfiltered sinks. You're worried you might have to call a plumber or someone to check it out. You don’t want to get lead poisoning your first night here. 

You freeze, still bent over the sink, and your jaw snaps shut. Eyes are boring into the back of your head, hateful and angry. It’s not James, you would know if it was. This is something different, the hair on the back of your neck is standing up, goosebumps rolling up and down your arms. There’s a rush of cool air, like something running past you, and your head shoots up in surprise. 

You scream when you see James in the mirror’s reflection. He jumps back in shock, lowering the camera and giving you an exasperated look. A second ago you’d been completely alone and he’d been downstairs, where the fuck did he come from?

“What the hell, James?” You wipe your mouth off with the back of your hand and whirl around on him. He glares at you, eyes narrowed in dissatisfaction. 

“Talk about an overreaction. What the hell is your problem?” He snaps, taking that tone with you that you know means you have to be careful. You don’t feel like getting into another fight with him. Especially not tonight. 

“You scared me,” you trail off into an awkward laugh, hoping to ease up the mood a little. He slams the camera down on the counter. Your shoulders jump and you flinch back from him slightly. “What’re you doing with the camera?” You ask, glancing down at the lens and frowning. You spot the red blinking light and realize he’s still recording, your brows furrow in confusion. 

“It was your idea, wasn’t it?” His tone is short and you huff in disappointment. You hadn’t realized something as small as a little scare would piss him off. You used to be good at reading his moods. Since the wedding, though, he seems to have just gotten more and more unpredictable. 

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, your feet dangling over the floor as you kick your legs. You hate how tall the damn bed frame is, you have a horrible paranoia that something’s going to grab you one day and yank you under. James, of course, had just laughed when you told him this and then bought it. He thought it was funny, that it would help you overcome your fears. 

You still have goosebumps from earlier, the same breeze from before tickles the pads of your feet. You glance down with wide eyes, yanking your legs into your chest and scooting back from the edge. James flips the lights off in the bathroom and walks to the end of the bed. He’s dragged out the tripod and has got it pointed at the bed. 

You tilt your head with a coy smile, “Planning on having some fun tonight?”

He glances between you and the camera, a confused furrow between his brows. You scoff out a laugh as the realization dawns over him. “If you’re up for it, I wouldn’t mind some after-dark fun.” You roll your eyes and tug the covers over your legs. He leaves the camera and crawls on the bed towards you. “But that’s not what it's for.”

“Oh yeah?” You glance over his shoulder and then turn back to him with an odd look. “Don’t tell me you’re buying into the supernatural junk?” You tuck your head into his chest, letting him pull you closer as he flips the lamp off. “You’re supposed to keep me tethered to reality, remember?” You tease, looking up at him. 

He glances down at you and shrugs. “The lady did say the master bedroom is the worst, I’m just curious if we’ll catch anything.” 

You shoot the camera a concerned look and shake your head. “I hope not,” you mutter. You snuggle in closer to him, trying to dismiss the feeling of someone watching you. You’re sure it’s just from the camera being on you. Besides, you always get too deep in your head about this stuff.

3 AM

You shoot up in bed, chest heaving as you stare down at your feet. James shifts behind you, grumbling as he flips over and steals the rest of the blankets. 

Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest as you simply sit there, staring at the end of the bed. You pause, holding your breath like the room might tell you its secrets. 

You’re normally a heavy sleeper, not even a fire would get you up. But something just did, you were ripped violently from your slumber. You almost want to dismiss it as an incredibly vivid nightmare. Yet, you can’t ignore the throbbing, almost freezing pain, that’s shooting up and down your left calf. 

The muscle is spasming sporadically and you can still feel the phantom touch of someone squeezing your leg. Your hip is sore from where you’d been dragged down. You’ve had pretty vivid dreams before. You’ve woken up with your feet sore like you’d been running, or your muscles cramped from twitching around so much. But this is a lot. 

You take in a deep breath, slowly pulling your legs into your chest. You slump over your bent knees, hoping to catch your breath and settle your racing mind. It’s impossible to ignore how cold your leg feels, you feel like you’re losing blood circulation. You can’t just go back to sleep with it like this, you’re gonna have to go downstairs and get James’ heat pack. 

You’re seriously starting to lose feeling in it now. You’re wondering if something didn’t drag you and maybe you’ve got a blood clot screwing your circulation up somehow. Hundreds of different possibilities race through your mind, each more worrying than the last. You can't sit up all night scaring yourself, you’re just gonna have to suck it up. 

You briefly consider waking James up so you don’t have to go downstairs alone. You hate how those stairs look in the dark, you feel like something is standing at the end, waiting to reach through the banister and drag you down. A ghost, however, sounds more inviting than making James grumpy before he has to go in for work tomorrow morning. 

With a heavy sigh, you force yourself off the bed and blindly grope through the dark for the wall. Your left leg is practically dead weight as you drag it behind you. Your hands skate along the dusty walls and you grimace, making a mental note to dust tomorrow. 

You’re trying to take it slow, to squint out as many shapes in the dark as you can. It’s nearly impossible to tell when you’re going to hit the stairs. You can only pray that you don’t go toppling headfirst down them. 

Slowly, you inch your toes forward and curl them around the edge of the step. From there it’s a long, arduous process of just trying to get down the stairs. It feels as though with each step you take, the house only grows darker. 

You wished you had taken the risk and turned the lights on. The feeling of eyes following you only gets worse as you finally reach the kitchen. The further you get from the bedroom, the worse your leg begins to throb. You can only be happy that you still feel it at all. 

Your hand skates along the wall until you feel the cool plastic of the light switch. As harsh as it is against the linoleum, it’s a stark relief from being all alone in the dark. You dig around in the moving boxes until you find James' heating pad. You toss it in the microwave and pull yourself on the counter, drumming your fingers while you wait for it to warm up. 

He hates you. He hates that you live in his house. He hates that she’s gone. Bette, he’ll miss her, the way the old woman’s face would screw up in terror always brought a sick satisfaction to him. 

You press the warm pad to your leg and hiss through your teeth as feeling begins returning to your calf. He has to admit, he hadn’t meant to grab you quite so hard. He just wanted one good scare, to either get you out of here or show you who's in charge. Your leg has turned an odd color in the shape of his handprint and it makes his lips curl up. 

There’s a loud ringing from upstairs. It grates on his already frayed nerves and makes anger roll off of him in violent, tangible waves. Your nose twitches, your face screwing up as you look around. There’s a suspicious glint in your eye, one your little husband doesn’t share with you. 

He has to admit, you’re smart enough to realize the truth of your situation, at least. Your husband doesn’t share the same characteristic. He seems alarmingly self-assured, not that he minds, those are his favorite types to break. 

He can hear upstairs, better than you would ever hope to. He listens as your husband picks up the phone, quietly yelling at someone on the other end. A woman, if the timbre is anything to go by. They both sound incredibly angry. He’s not interested in listening to something as trivial as this. 

He turns away from you and moves towards the stairs. He pauses at the base of them, glancing over his shoulder and really taking you in. You look so small, curled up on the counter with the look of a frightened child. 

You scream as the lightbulb above you explodes, plunging you into complete darkness. He smiles to himself, drifting up the stairs and lingering at the end of your bed. Your husband’s head shoots up in alarm and he pulls the phone away from his ear. 

The name Martha lingers on the small screen before he quickly flips it off and rushes out of bed. He blows right through the man at the end of his bed, flipping on the lights and racing down the stairs. He calls out your name, voice frantic and bordering on paranoia. 

He hadn’t thought you two would get scared quite so quickly. He’d been hoping to enjoy this a bit more. Perhaps he should slow down, and savor the long fall into madness before he claims you both. He hovers at the top of the stairs, watching as your husband comforts you. 

He’s got his arms wrapped around you, trying to keep you quiet and get you to calm down. From a distance, he could almost be the perfect husband. But that look is all too familiar, he’s seen it a hundred times before. It’s only now that he recognizes it for what it is. There is no love in your husband’s gaze, only the fear that you’ll find out his little secret. 

He goes back into the bedroom, swipes the phone off the nightstand, and retreats into the shadows. 

“Don’t,” you slap James’ hands away from you, glaring at him. He purses his lips, huffing out a sharp breath and taking a step back. Anger brews under your skin, warms you up, and makes your jaw ache from how hard you’re clenching down. 

“How can you say I made it up?” You shout, no longer caring how loud you are. Your voice cracks at the end as you take on a shrill pitch. You yank up the leg of your yoga pants, shoving your leg towards him. 

Not only has the skin dipped in the perfect shape of a hand, but it’s also turned into an unnatural shade of green and purple. It’s like no bruise or injury you’ve ever had before. James looks down at the mark like it’s a bug to be squashed or a pile of dog shit he just stepped in. 

He fixes you with a sneer and shoves it away from him. You let out a harsh breath and stumble slightly into the counter. “Would you quit fucking showing me that? It’s freaking me out.”

You throw your hands up in the air, giving him an eat-shit look. “How do you think I feel? It happened to me.”

He shakes his head and turns towards the coffee pot, pouring himself another mug. You can’t believe how dismissive he’s being about this whole thing. You have indisputable proof burned into your flesh, and he’s completely ignoring your worries. 

“We need to get you to the doctor, okay?” He shakes his head, giving you the look of a disapproving parent, rather than the supportive husband he’s supposed to be. He hadn’t even been worried for you last night, just mad that you’d woken him up for nothing. 

“It’s probably a blood clot, not a damn poltergeist.”

“James-” His phone ringing cuts you off, and your eyes narrow in disbelief as he reaches for it. It’s closer to you on the counter so you snatch it up before he can grab it. 

“What are you doing?” He demands, taking on a concerningly low tone. 

“We’re going to talk about this, you’re not getting out of this one, James!” 

He whispers your name in a voice you haven’t heard before. His face is dark, brows set in determination as he slowly extends his hand. “Give me my phone.”

You glance at the Nokia and then back at him. The fear that’s been ever-present since last night turns into something else. Anxiety and suspicion make a wicked and nauseating brew in your stomach. “Why?” You whisper, eyes narrowing on him as he takes a step closer. You stumble a step back, holding the phone out of his reach. 

You feel your hand tremble with its vibrations before it begins to ring again. You look towards it just as James lunges forward. His shoulder nearly barrels into you as he grabs your wrist. His grip is so tight you almost feel the bones creaking together. “James!” You gasp, the phone tumbling from your palm and into his hand. He shoves you back, tucking it in his pocket and glaring at you. 

“Don’t touch my phone,” you open your mouth to argue and he takes a large step forward. His foot slams against the ground and you flinch back from him, eyes wide in surprise. “Do you understand me,” he demands, slowly and his voice low. 

You nod, your jaw gaping as you stare at him. He runs a hand through his hair, refusing to meet your eye now. Dark strands fall onto his forehead and he looks more disheveled than you’ve seen him in a long while. 

He looks at his watch and clenches his eyes shut. He pauses, taking in a deep breath as he straightens his tie and rounds the kitchen island. “What are you doing?” You ask, your voice so quiet you’re surprised he even hears it. 

“Going to work,” he snaps. You can’t look at him, you just keep your eyes glued to the floor as the door slams shut. You hold your breath until you hear the car going down the driveway. Ever so slowly, you peel yourself away from the counter. 

Your hand drifts, without thinking, to the imprints on your wrist. “What the fuck,” you mutter, a stunned sort of silence taking over. You can’t help but just stand there, completely dumbfounded by how quickly a simple argument escalated. 

He’s always had a shorter temper than most, but that was extreme. A door slams upstairs and you scream, leaping forward and whirling towards the noise.  “What the fuck!” You shout again, stumbling towards the knife block behind you. You can hear footsteps running upstairs and swallow around a ball of fear sinking in your throat. 

You almost call out ‘whos there,’ but that’s a little too stupid for you. You’re not planning on being the bimbo who dies first in every horror movie. As much as James likes to tease you for being a little simple sometimes, you are equipped with basic survival skills. 

You look towards the coffee maker, the port where your home phone should be is empty. You rush towards the windows, glancing out the driveway and cursing when you find it empty. You were hoping that James might still be in his car, steaming before he comes back in to apologize. But, no, he’s really gone. 

Another door slams and it feels a little petty. Despite the way your heart races and you’re struggling to catch your breath, you don’t feel like you’re in any immediate danger. The looming presence that hung over you last night is gone. James had dismissed the lightbulb exploding as an old house and bad lighting. 

You know better, despite the claims otherwise, and you sincerely doubt that there’s an actual person upstairs. And whatever it is, was smart enough to steal your phone. You slink towards the end of the stairs, just barely craning your neck so you can see into your bedroom. Except the door isn’t open like you left it. 

Light comes through the crack of the closed door. You take a tentative step up, eyes squinting as you try and get a glimpse under the door. A shadow darts past, like rushing footsteps. You gasp, leaping back and covering your mouth with trembling hands. 

The hair on the back of your neck stands, and the loose hairs from your braids blow across your cheeks, tickling your sensitive skin. Old vents, that’s what James told you. His attempt to explain the inexplicable breeze that seems to be following you everywhere you go. You’re bundled head to toe in fuzzy socks, warm pants, and a too-big sweatshirt. And still, you feel your fingers nearly go numb and you can barely feel your nose anymore. 

That’s not a poor AC system. And those aren’t feet under your door. You’re so focused on simply watching the movements under the door that you completely forget anything else. You’re blind and deaf as you watch whatever is moving about in your room. A loud clank breaks through the silence and you nearly scream. 

Your bones almost jump out of your skin as the ice machine starts going and rattles up the old fridge. You clench your eyes shut, taking in a deep breath and glaring at the white machine. “Fuck me,” you mutter, holding your chest and just barely calming yourself down. 

You’ve only been here a night, you shouldn’t be so fucking terrified. You’re ready to just go out into the backyard and wait the rest of the day for James to come back. If you could drive off, you would. But you’ve only got one working car right now and he’s taken it to work. You move to grab your laptop off the couch when something creaks behind you. 

Old hinges cry out as they’re slowly forced to work. The sound of steps going down the stairs occupies the space behind you. You can’t find the bravery to turn around, too scared to see what might be there. Something ice cold passes through you. It nearly feels like a violation, as though something was rooting through your insides like it belonged there. It couldn’t have lasted more than two seconds but it was more than enough to have you nearly vomiting up your scarce breakfast. 

The moment it’s over you feel yourself calming down. As though an instinctual intuition has been activated, you know the danger’s passed. Whatever it had been trying to accomplish with that little show, it did it. 

You turn back to your room, the lights off and the door open, looking just as you left it. You glance over your shoulder, looking into the kitchen before starting up the stairs. You give a hesitant peek into the room like you expect it to be a wreck. But it looks spotless, the camera is in the same place James left it, still recording. 

You file that away in the back of your mind. Maybe the camera picked up what happened last night, or maybe James is right. You really are just getting too far into your head. A shrill ringing goes off near James nightstand and you frown. Your phone buzzes on his side of the bed, MOM lighting up the square screen. 

You let out a short huff, quickly snatching your phone and answering. Maybe she can talk some sense into you, or, more preferably, come over to keep you company. “Hey mom,” you answer, smiling slightly to yourself. It’s been a little while since you’ve been able to talk to her. James had banned phones after the honeymoon and then you’d gotten caught up in house stuff, jobs, and the aftermath of the wedding ‘incident.’

An older voice than you’d been expecting answers on the other end, saying your name in a confused tone. Your brows furrow and you frown, “Mrs. Barnes?”

“Honey,” she sounds strained, like she really hadn’t been expecting you to answer. James must have taken your phone by accident. It makes sense, they’re both the same model, but you put a little pink charm on your Nokia so you’d stop making this mistake. Yet, when you look to your left, you see your charm lying on your nightstand. When had you taken that off?

“Where’s James?”

“Um,” you’re still a little thrown off by her voice and take a second to answer. “Work, I think he took the wrong phone,” you laugh a little, disconcerted that it’s not your mother’s comforting voice. 

“Must have,” she answers, she sounds like she’s a million miles away, her tone distant. “Well, um, just tell him to call me back.”

“Alright,” you hesitate, concerned by how off she sounds. “Is everything alright?” You know things have been tough for her since her husband passed on. James’ sisters have been helping her adjust, but the wedding had taken him away from his family for a little while. He hasn’t actually shown any signs of wanting to reach out and it makes you feel guilty, like you’re keeping him away from her. 

Mrs. Barnes, a living saint you swear, has been nothing but kind as she welcomes you into her family. This is the first time she’s ever been so distant to you. You act more like her family than James does nowadays. 

“Has, uh,” she coughs, clearing her throat. You can almost hear what sounds like Francesca on the other end, hollering at her. The sound of James’ older sister’s voice makes you smile a little wider. “Has James said anything to you?”

Your brows furrow and you shake your head in confusion, even if she can’t see you. “About what?”

“Oh, crumbs,” she huffs and you have a feeling whatever she was about to say was important, but someone is snatching the phone away before you can hear the rest of it. You’d been so focused on her voice that you hadn’t even heard James come back in. 

He glares down at the phone, face pale and eyes wide like he’s expecting something horrific. When he places it to his ear and hears his mom’s voice, his shoulders slump in relief. You narrow your eyes at him, disoriented by the strange behavior. 

“Mom,” he interrupts her rudely, “I’ll call you later. Okay?” He hangs up before she can answer. He tugs your phone out of his pocket and tosses it next to you on the bed. “Answering my phone now? What are you, my secretary?”

You slip your phone into your back pocket, not looking at him as you get off the bed. “I thought it was mine. I think my charm broke off.” You put some distance between the two of you, glancing down at his phone and then back at him. “Why are you being so weird about it?”

He flinches like you’ve just accused him of something far worse than being overly protective of his phone. “I don’t like you digging around in my phone. That’s a problem now?” You open your mouth to argue, but he just keeps going, cutting you off, “You’re so goddamn paranoid. First the ghost, now this,” he gestures vaguely at you and you scoff, crossing your arms and glaring at him. 

You two are devolving far quicker than he had anticipated. It must have been a fragile relationship, to begin with. James slams the door and you slump down on the bed, you almost look like you want to cry. 

He goes down the stairs, watching through the window as your husband lingers on the front porch. He calls someone, his mom, and starts yelling at her as he gets to his car. Looking away from the window, he sighs. 

He’d been close, if James hadn’t come home he probably could have pushed you over the edge immediately. He doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or happy that his game gets to go on a little longer.

You come back down the stairs, eyes rimmed red and shoulders slumped in defeat. You brush through him, not even noticing the chill he leaves behind in you. You have the camera in your hand and a cord in the other. He grins, excited to finally have you see the truth of what happened last night. 

You plug the camera into your laptop, scrubbing through the footage of last night. He leans over your shoulder and watches as goosebumps rise along your skin. You sigh, tugging a blanket over your shoulders, but he knows that won’t do anything to help you. 

Nothing will unless you leave. But your husband has made it clear that you’re not getting out of here until he has actual proof anything supernatural lurks inside these haunted walls. Right here, in your lap, you have your proof. A phantom wind blows up the sheets of the bed, an unexplainable tug of your leg that drags you halfway down the bed. It’s violent and he almost feels sorry, he really hadn’t meant to hurt you, only scare you. 

His fingers drift over your leg and you jump, whirling around, wide eyes looking right through him. He can’t help but admire the way fear makes them shine. You’re quite pretty when you’re terrified, he couldn’t say the same for the hag that used to live here. 

You’re slow to turn back to the computer, but when you do, there’s a slight curve to your lips that he appreciates. “I fucking knew it,” you whisper, slamming the screen closed and getting to your feet. 

You’re giddy, he can taste the satisfaction overpowering the fear. You round the couch, taking in a deep breath and shaking out your arms. Your face sets in determination and you start working on clearing out the moving boxes. 

He doesn’t feel the urge to mess with you any further. He leaves you in peace, lounging in your armchair and watching you work. He’s got a nice surprise worked up for you tonight, no need to take today’s playtime any further. 

You’re efficient, only occasionally getting distracted as you smile at pictures of your wedding day. You put those up on the mantle, beside some family photos. It’s clear how much you value your familial bonds, even your husbands. You put it front and center in the home, reminding him of how it once looked. 

There’s a stark sense of deja vu as he watches you work, a nauseating feeling of what could have been. He can practically taste the newlywed bliss you’re going through. Even with your husband being a piece of work, you still value him, love him. He’d once known that love, hell, he’d reveled in it. 

But the curtain always has to come down. The magic’s never real. He’s doing you a favor by showing you the truth of it all. His gaze drifts away from you cooking dinner and he looks towards the pictures on the mantle. 

James’ mother reminds him of his own. He always wondered what happened to her, what her life was like after he was gone. Neither of them ever got what they wanted. She died wondering what happened to her only son, and he died without getting to say goodbye. 

He thinks of Bette, and feels that familiar white-hot rush of anger, your scream comes a moment later. He glances towards you, confused, before he follows your eyes and sees that he’s accidentally shattered the frames of the pictures. 

You gasp, sucking in shallow breaths as you stumble into the counter, brows furrowed in terror. He clenches his eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath, and tamps down on the anger overwhelming him. 

The door opens and your socked feet go rushing towards it, you nearly slip on the hardwoods, arms spinning wildly as you right yourself. James flinches away from your frantic hands as you grab his jacket and drag him inside. “The fucking pictures,” you stutter out your words and point frantically towards the mantle. 

James grimaces, tugging at your hands and looking towards him. He doesn’t see him, of course he doesn’t. But he does see his little accident. James scoffs, face screwing up in anger, he turns towards you. His face is set like a disappointed parent. “You broke them? Our wedding pictures, seriously. All because of a stupid fight?”

He jerks away from you, storming towards the glass and kicking at it. “You didn’t even clean it up,” he says your name, tone increasing in anger. You stare at him, disbelieving and open-mouthed. 

He sits back on the armchair, thoroughly amused. He hadn’t even had to do anything to turn him against you. Your sweet James has just been waiting for a reason to get mad. “This is fucking petty, even for you.”

“What, James,” you stumble over your words, taking a hesitant step towards him. He thinks you’re pretty when you’re scared, but not like this. He doesn’t appreciate the way you approach your husband like he’s a rabid dog. You shouldn’t be scared of him, not yet at least. He hasn’t even had his fun with him yet. 

“It wasn’t me, I swear-”

“Not this ghost shit again, seriously-”

“I have proof!” You shout, your voice is desperate as you try and make yourself louder than him. You run towards your laptop, and ignore the burning smell coming from the oven. He gets up, drifting towards it and turning it off before either of you can notice. No point in having the house burn down. Where would that leave him?

You plug the camera in, turning the screen towards him. James doesn’t make a move yet, simply glaring at you like you’re a bug to be swatted. “Please,” you beg, pathetic and needy. He huffs, rolling his eyes as he watches you both. It’s all so familiar to him, he feels like he’s watching his unfortunate disaster of a marriage play out through you. 

You scrub through the times, cussing as you pass over the clip of you getting dragged. There’s a frantic look in your eye as you hit play. It almost makes him feel bad for what’s about to happen. 

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” James snaps. 

Your face falls and you move the mouse forward and back, looking like a madwoman as you try to find the right moment. You won’t, he made sure of that. Nothing but static plays when you get to the parts that would prove your innocence. 

James tugs at his tie, shaking his head in disappointment. “Not only did you fuck up all our pictures, you didn’t even have dinner ready.” He shoves past you, heading up the stairs and muttering to himself. He pulls out his phone, lingering on a contact he shouldn’t before pressing call. 

You stay still in the living room, looking at the shattered glass and then the oven. “I made your favorite,” you whisper. You suck in a shaky breath, swallowing hard as you kneel down to try and pick up the remnants of your wedding photos. 

3 AM

He sits on the bed, glancing towards the blinking red light of the camera. There’s a clear wall between you and your husband, even if neither of you wants to acknowledge it. You lay curled up in yourself, like a child afraid to seek comfort. He pities you, truly. 

He remembers the happiness of youth, the rush of being married to the person you believe is the love of your life. He will never forget the pain of realizing the person you’ve given everything to turning into someone you don’t recognize. 

His hand drifts over the swell of your cheek. Your lashes flutter, nose wrinkling at the cold brush of his touch. But you don’t flinch away from him, instead leaning into him and looking almost happy by his touch. 

He looks to your husband, eyes narrowing on his relaxed form. He sees the phone lying near him and his face sets in determination. He’s not going to let you fall into the same trap he did. And he certainly isn’t about to let another soul cramp the already stuffy walls of his home. 

It’s been quiet around the house. Less strange events and more strained dinners between you and your husband. You’ve taken to bringing the camera everywhere with you. But anytime a light bulb explodes or a frame topples over, the video goes static. 

You should have given up the hunt for evidence but you can’t give it up. You just need James to see, you need him to believe you. Or, at the very least, you need some assurance that you’re not going crazy. You’ve begun to consider the possibility. 

The bruise on your leg is gone, the constant chills that rack you are still very much present, but there’s nothing else. Everything that happens can be explained by the age of the house. You’ve only briefly discussed it with James’ sisters. Elizabeth gave you the number of a medium she knows. 

James had gotten angry when he found the business card after her visit. He didn’t like her filling your head with more nonsense and indulging you. You didn’t like how dismissive he was. It’s been a few days since the fight and you still have no desire to reconcile with him. 

It’s becoming easier to simply ignore his presence around the house. You know it’s not healthy. You’ve only just begun the marriage, you don’t need to have communication issues tainting it before it’s even on its legs. 

Still, it’s as though something’s keeping you from him. Every attempt at speaking with him is interrupted, thoughts of apologizing just to placate him are struck from your head quicker than they come. 

You stand up from the kitchen table, placing your pictures to the side. You’ve finally gotten new frames for them all, you only need to put them back up. You have no problems putting up the family pictures. Yet, the moment you make to grab the wedding picture of you and James, you grow inexplicably tired. 

Your eyelids flutter shut and you sway on your feet. Your bones grow heavy like you’ve been working all day. But you’ve only been up a few hours, and you had so much more to do today. You try and fight forward, leaning on the table and reaching for the portrait again. You almost feel like you’re nudged back, moved towards the couch. 

A short nap, you promise yourself. Just long enough to get your energy back. 

He followed him to work. That’s never happened before. He’s never been able to follow someone out of the house. He tried, with Steve, he tried to make every aspect of his life hell. But he couldn’t. 

Yet, with this one, he has no problem following him. Maybe it’s the odd resemblance they have. A haircut and a shave, they could be identical twins. But then again, he hasn’t seen his face in a long while, perhaps he’s misremembering it. 

It’s difficult to maintain this control. Half of him lingers in the house, with you, the other half is here. He’s being drawn closer to James and further from you. He doesn’t know if that’s conducive or an interruption to his plans. 

He only vaguely sees you, in his mind’s eye. He leads you to the couch, lays you down, and keeps you away from the reminders of James. He’s gotten good at keeping you both separated. It was easy to begin with, all he’s doing is showing you the truth of the man you married. If only he could really show you. 

James phone rings and he focuses on him once more. It’s Martha again. He hasn’t figured out the truth of their relationship, he’s sure he already knows it. He’s lived this life once, knows the truth of why a husband would act like this. The late-night calls, the constant misdirection of anger. 

He’s paranoid, terrified you’ll find out the truth. He wants to have his cake and eat it too. The perfect housewife at home, and the mistress who fulfills his every desire. At least, that’s his theory. He still needs to be completely sure. 

He ignores James, focusing once more on his connection to the house. He finds you right where he left you, deep in your sleep and completely oblivious to the world around you. He kneels before you, sweeping some hair off your cheeks and tilting his head as he takes in your restful face. 

You look so peaceful when you’re like this, a slight curl to your lips as you wander through dreamland. He wished he could keep you like this, wished he could completely get rid of James. But without him, you wouldn’t be able to keep the house. You’d leave it, leave him. He can’t have that. He’s been lonely for so long, he needs you, craves you. 

6 PM

“How was work?”

“Fine.”

Chewing fills the cavernous silence of your dining room. Forks scrape across porcelain, shallow breaths as you both dance around the tension that threatens to tie a noose around your marriage. You reach for your wine, hoping for another heady swallow. Just like before, you’re dissuaded from it. 

You grow tired at the thought of drowning your sorrows in the alcohol for another night. You clench your eyes shut and take a deep breath, moving the glass away from you and turning back to the roast you made. 

James’ brows furrow as he watches you. “Everything alright?”

You hum, “Tired.” He scoffs and your face falls flat. He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath as he cuts more aggressively into the meat. "Something wrong?” You demand, sucking on your teeth as you anticipate his answer. You’re sure it’s going to be the same broken record he’s been playing since the honeymoon. 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, tone dismissive. He pauses, taking a deep breath before laughing sardonically. “It’s just funny.” You hate how he does this, drags out his answers, and forces you to take the bait. 

You’re not playing this game of his tonight. You won’t do it again. You can’t keep going in circles with him, can’t keep indulging him in these childish tantrums. He waits, eyebrows raised and pretty blue eyes boring into yours, demanding attention. 

Those damn eyes. You wish he was just a little uglier, maybe then you wouldn’t have been so blind to how fucking awful he really is. You almost resent his mother and sisters for this. They could have warned you off, told you the horror stories of his past before the wedding. Instead, they’d warned you after it was too late and your entire life was entangled in his. 

“I work all day, come home, want a peaceful meal. What do I get?”

He falls silent again and you let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, James,” you drawl, bored of this already. Your patience for him is practically nonexistent nowadays. You used to be able to endure these conversations with him, or at the very least soothe him. But you’re tired of feeling like a babysitter and not the wife you’re supposed to be. “What do you get? A homecooked meal, a clean house, someone to come home to. Tell me,” you demand, slamming your hand on the table and surprising him. “What the fuck do you get?”

“A nagging fucking wife who does jack shit all day and complains about being tired! I work for us, so you can stay home and live out your little housewife fantasies!”

Your jaw drops and you suck in a sharp breath. You can’t even form words, nearly laughing at the audacity and ridiculousness of what he’s saying. “Oh my god,” you can only scoff, shaking your head and leaning back in your chair. You smile and roll your eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.” He stands, leaning on the table and trying to make himself bigger than he is. It only paints him in a more pathetic light. 

You cut him off before he can say anything else, scooping up your plate and storming into the kitchen. “You’re the one who insisted I quit my job. You,” you turn and gesture towards him, a disgusted sneer on your face, “wanted a fucking housewife. I was just the dumbass that listened to you. You have no right to throw that in my face. You wanted this, James!”

“Yeah, well,” for a moment you think he’s speechless. His jaw opens and closes, nothing but air leaving his parted lips. You should know better by now, he’s always got some bullshit to spew. “I didn’t think you’d be so incompetent at this.”

You drop the plate in the sink, leaning on it for support and closing your eyes. You take in deep breaths, trying to cool down the heat racing under your skin. Your blood’s pumping so hard you’re surprised a vein hasn’t burst yet. 

“Fuck this,” you push off the sink, shoving past him and moving towards the front door. 

“What are you doing?” He demands, watching as you grab your coat and your keys. 

“Going for a walk,” you tell him shortly, slamming the door behind you. You just need some time away from him, away from the suffocating shadow that seems to linger behind him all the time now. 

You pull the business card Elizabeth had given you and dial the number. You don’t know if this anger is coming from whatever the hell lives in that house or if this was always coming. But you’re not going to just roll over and let this thing ruin your marriage. 

7 PM

You’re out for an hour. He’s upset the entire time. He wants to drive James’ head into the corner of the counter over and over again until there’s nothing left but unidentifiable mush. It’s the same fight he used to have. It always started over something so stupid, he could never say anything right. 

No matter how many times he thought he finally figured Bette out. Every time he thought he had avoided some trigger for her, a new one formed. It didn’t matter how perfect of a husband he was, he would never be enough because he wasn't him. He wasn’t Steve, the man who could do no wrong in her eyes. 

He stands in the corner and watches as James paces for a while before he finally leaves, taking his keys and his phone. He takes the car and leaves you stranded here at the house. 

He knows that James could fix the car sitting idle in the garage. He could fix the car. It’s just another way of keeping you under control. James gets to decide when and where you get to go out, you don’t get a say. 

You seem relieved, though, when you come back and see James gone. You’re happier without your husband, it’s both good and bad. He needs you to resent James, needs you to hate him. But that could prove tricky for him in the future. 

“Thank you so much,” you’re on the phone, you’ve got something lumpy in your jacket. One hand lays under the buttons of your coat, stroking idly. “Yeah, Thursday sounds great. Thank you, again, for coming on such late notice.”

You hang up, placing your keys and phone in the bowl by the door. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up.” You open your jacket, revealing a bundle of matted, dirty fur underneath. Somewhere in all that mess is the scrunched face of a pissed-off cat. 

You coo to it, stroking its head and ignoring the fact it looks like it wants to rip your hand off. You bring it to the kitchen sink and he watches as you take the next few hours to wash its wounds and properly groom it. 

He never cared much for cats, or any animals, really. He never had the time or the energy to try and take care of something other than Bette. She was practically a full-time job to cater to. But he enjoys how peaceful you look being able to take care of the cat. He enjoys how much sympathy you display, even as the little bastard rips and tears at your pretty skin. 

He looms over your shoulder, stroking his phantom fingers over the cat's wet fur. It’s enough to scare it into submission. Its claws release your skin and it shrinks back into your hold. He grins, backing away and leaving you to it. 

You frown down at the cat, murmuring soothing words to it as you look around the kitchen. Sometimes he thinks you see him, thinks you can truly see through all the walls and witness what’s left of the man he was. He knows it's foolish, a ridiculous hope. 

You’ll never be able to see him. Even if you could, you would only think of him as a tormentor. He was a blight on your home and marriage, why would you ever care about him?

3 AM

You feel eyes on you. Not the unfamiliar eyes you’ve been feeling, you know these. Intimately. You stir from your light sleep, squinting through the dark. Minimal light comes in through the blinds, but it's just enough for you to see the figure standing beside you. 

You gasp, flinching away from James. He just stands over you, glaring down at where you slept. Eyes devoid of anything. “James?” You whisper. Alpine, the cat you snagged from a neighbor’s dumpster, leaps off the bed. 

She hisses at James, skirting around him and running out of the room. Your brows furrow in confusion. You look back to James, muttering his name again. He gasps like he was dragged out of a coma. 

He stumbles on his feet, tripping over them and nearly nosediving into the bed. You instinctively steady him, guiding him onto the bed beside you. “What are you doing?” You hiss at him, holding his face in your hands and looking him over for any explanation of what was just happening. 

You’ve never even heard him talk in his sleep. Let alone, sleep with his eyes wide open and staring at you. It was beyond disturbing. There’s something unfamiliar in his eyes, they’re soft as he looks at you. Soft in a way they haven’t been for a long time. 

His hand comes up to cup yours, the other almost hesitantly running across your cheek. “James?” You ask again, caught off guard by the odd display of affection.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. You’re ninety percent sure you’re still dreaming, he’s never apologized first before. It’s always been you to broker the peace. You’ll sacrifice being right if it means he’ll stop giving you the cold shoulder, he’s never done the same. 

You try to ask him what he’s talking about, but he’s surging forward before you can speak. His lips are chapped, dryer than you’re used to. He doesn’t give you much time to process anything. His hands drift to your waist, dragging you into his lap as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You’re taken aback by the taste of metal on his tongue. It’s coppery and bitter, not at all like the mint toothpaste you both use. 

He’s not kissing you like you’re used to. He’s not trying to devour you or suffocate you by shoving his tongue as far as it goes down your throat. This is gentle, sweet. It feels like you’re being savored, not claimed. You don’t mind it, in fact, it would be nice if you weren’t so disturbed. 

He’s not acting like himself, he barely looks like he should, and he tastes wrong. This isn’t your husband kissing you. You want to pull away, you try to. But his fingers are digging into your waist and your lips are firmly locked. You can feel the chill of his hands through your pajamas. They’re like icicles, you’re sure there’s going to be a mark from them in the morning. 

“James,” you manage to mutter, pulling away from him just enough to catch your breath. “What’s,” you trail off, tongue growing too heavy to speak. Your words slur together, become one nonsensical jumble stuck in your throat. 

He shakes his head, biting his lip and slowly lowering you back onto the bed. “I’m sorry. I thought this would work.” You narrow your eyes, you have barely enough energy to shake your head in confusion. Your lips part to ask another question. He leans down, pressing one last gentle kiss to you before your eyes roll back and you’re asleep again. 

“I told you I have it handled,” James practically pouts as he sits in your armchair. You used to use it to crochet, it’s got the best view of the backyard and you like to watch the bunnies that live under the porch. But more and more, he stays there. Every second he’s home, he seems to live in that chair. 

Bette had given it to you with the house. You hadn’t really thought anything of it, but with how he’s been acting lately, you can’t help but wonder if its’ connected to whatever secrets live in these walls. Most people would be haunted and their husbands would get worse, you seem to be experiencing the opposite. 

He’s kinder, he’s bringing you flowers and cooking you breakfast. You’re woken up with praise and gentle kisses. Then he’s back to normal by lunchtime. He’s miserable at dinner, only to wake you up in the middle of the night with saccharine apologies. You’re so sick and tired of living in this whirlwind of love and misery. You just want some goddamn answers. 

You need to know the truth of what’s happening to you. Is this just how James is? Is this the house? Is there even anything wrong with the house?

You’re hoping the medium will be able to answer that for you today. Mystic Wanda, the name doesn’t give you much hope but Elizabeth told you she’s one of the best. 

Alpine runs against your legs and James glowers at her. “I told you I wanted her out of here.”

“Tough,” you respond bluntly, eyes trained on the front door. He’d thrown a hissy fit when he saw her the morning after your weird make-out session. You hadn’t bent, though, and you know he’s still upset you’re no longer blindly giving into his whims. 

The doorbell rings and you leap off the couch, rushing towards the door and throwing it open. Wanda’s eyes widen in amusement and she smiles at your eagerness. “Please, come in, and thank you again for coming on such short notice.”

You usher her inside, offering to take her jacket. She passes it to you, eyeing the interior of your home and giving you an appeasing smile. “Well, Elizabeth is a good friend of mine, she told me you were having an emergency and I wanted to help.”

James scoffs from the armchair and she glances over at him with a bemused look. You glare at him over her shoulder. “James, I presume?”

“Oh,” his eyes widen in faux amazement, “did you divine that?”

Her eyebrows raise and you know she’s unimpressed. “I could tell from the attitude. Your sister warned me you were a cynic.”

He mutters a bitter, “Whatever,” under his breath and goes back to ignoring her. 

“I’m sorry about him,” you take her by the elbow, guiding her into the kitchen and away from him. You peer over into the living room, ensuring he can’t hear you. Wanda waits expectantly for you to begin speaking. 

“He’s why I wanted you to come.” You tell her, fiddling idly with your wedding band. “He’s not himself lately.”

“More volatile?” She guesses and you shake your head, laughing bitterly to yourself.

“Less, actually. But he’s unpredictable. I never know when he’s going to be this sweet stranger or the miserable man I’ve grown used to.”

Her brows twitch and a confused smile graces her lips. “Most people aren’t upset when their husband gets better.”

“I know it’s odd,” you admit, sighing and looking down at the countertop. “But, I just need to know I’m not going crazy. I’ve been dragging this around everywhere,” you push your camera towards her. “Every time something happens, the feed cuts out. I’ve been dragged down my bed, harassed, made to think I’m losing my mind.”

You run a rough hand over your face, feeling the aches of this whole experience settle wearily along your bones. “I just need some clarity. That’s all.”

“Well,” she reaches for your hand, squeezing it in hers and giving you a comforting smile. “I can certainly help with that.”

Wanda sits in the armchair, having booted James out of it. He seems a little bit more cognizant as he sits beside you, a little more scared. You keep a wary eye on him while Wanda closes her eyes and “connects” with the house, as she put it. 

She breaks the silence abruptly and it makes you jump. “This chair came with the house?” You nod silently but you have a feeling she already knew the answer. She hums, running her hand along the arm of it. 

“It was his before it was stolen by the man he called friend. He lives in it, watches you from it.” You feel your heart racing, panic steadily rising within you. It’s like a physical caress, the fear trailing down your spine. “He wants something, too many things,” she sighs and shakes her head, frustration playing along her fine features. “It’s hard to discern the truth of it all.”

“But he’s real?” You cut in, imploring her to tell you what you’re desperate to hear.

She gives you a resigned smile, but there’s no happiness in it. “I’m afraid so.” She shouldn’t be so apologetic, this is all you wanted. To know you weren’t crazy, to have James hear it too. But when you look to him for some satisfactory celebration, his face is slack. 

“James?” 

Wanda leaps up from the chair, taking a step towards him. Your husband is gone, any sign of awareness or thought is completely gone. He looks devoid of life, like he’s been a living corpse for weeks. “James?” You call again, voice threatening to break. 

His jaw snaps shut and you jump back, rushing off the couch and stumbling towards Wanda. She grabs you, tugging you behind her, and takes in a deep inhale. “It’s him,” she whispers, eyes wide with fear. “I’ve never encountered one so strong before.”

You glance at her and then back at James. There’s fury playing on his features, and again, those eyes you don’t recognize yet somehow feel familiar. “I think you should leave,” he demands, his voice low. 

It isn’t the normal way he commands you. This is a threat, a complete assurance of power. James stands up in one fluid motion, stalking toward Wanda. She goes stiff before you and you worry she’s going to go slack the same way James did. 

“Now,” he tells her, eyebrows raised with impatience. 

“James, she can help,” you try. His head whips toward yours and you flinch away from the intense look he gives you. 

“We don’t need her help,” he whispers your name and it almost sounds like he’s pleading with you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, you glance between Wanda and James, unsure which to follow. 

Wanda shakes her head as you take a step back from her. James’ shoulders slump with relief. “Don’t do this,” Wanda warns. “I won’t be able to come back here again. He’s growing stronger, you’ll be beyond anyone’s help soon-”

She's cut off as the light bulb above you explodes. You scream, moving instinctively towards your husband. His arms eagerly wrap around you, drawing you into his gentle hold. He runs a hand over your back and you almost miss the quiet apology he mutters into your hair. 

“Leave,” James doesn’t have to tell her again. She practically runs to the door, nearly forgetting her coat as she rushes out. You slump against him, somehow feeling defeated even after getting what you wanted. 

“Doll?” He peers down at you, pulling back slightly to get a better look. “Are you okay?”

You stare into eyes you know don’t belong to your husband and force yourself to nod. You let this stranger hold you close and ignore the sinking weight of guilt. He feels so much better than James ever did and you hate yourself for thinking that. 

Your husband is in there somewhere, being tormented by some malevolent spirit, and you’re letting him do what he wants to you. Playing house with him like everything’s normal. “Come on, let's go outside.”

You can’t do anything except listen to him. In the back of your mind, you think about how odd it is that he’s showing himself now. He usually waits until later in the day. 

How sick is it, you have a schedule for when your husband will be possessed?

He leads you to the back porch, to the rocking chairs that were there when you moved in. but he doesn’t let you sit in one. No, he guides you down onto his lap, keeping you close as you get yourself comfortable. 

James isn’t like this. He doesn’t let you love him like this. Your touch practically repulses him nowadays. But he can’t seem to get enough of you now. Holding onto you like he might not get to again. 

“Wanda said he was growing stronger,” you mutter absentmindly. He goes tense under you, but he doesn’t yell at you or get mad. He just squeezes your hand in his, idly tracing shapes over your palm. 

“I was thinking of planting some rosebushes,” he tells you, completely brushing over what you said. 

“I thought you wanted to rip the garden out and build a pool,” you tell him bitterly. The neighborhood has its own pool. You’ve been begging James to keep the old lady’s flowers in the back but he won’t have it. 

Now, miraculously, he’s giving in to your whims. You don’t know if you should be happy or disgusted. You’re sitting on the lap of something that isn’t your husband anymore. You don’t feel like you can trust your mind anymore. You struggle to differentiate between your dreams and reality. 

He laughs a little, brushing some hair out of your face and smiling at you. It’s not the smile you fell in love with, or the eyes you fell in love with, but you can feel yourself falling. Or, maybe, you’re just desperate for someone to be kind to you. For someone to love you the way a husband should love his wife. 

“I want you to be happy, Doll.” James doesn’t call you Doll.

“Maybe some gardenias too,” you lean back into his chest, letting yourself get more comfortable. 

You feel his smile against your skin, he turns his nose to nuzzle against your cheek, planting a kiss there. “I’ll buy the seeds tomorrow.” You nod absentmindedly, trying to settle the way your stomach flips. 

3 AM

“James!” You scream his name, leaping onto his side of the bed and holding onto him as tight as you can. He shoots up, grabbing you and turning you to face him. 

“What?” He demands, face pale with worry. 

You frown, glaring at him, “You didn’t hear that?” The bedroom door slams closed and you scream again, curling into his hold. 

“Holy shit!” He shouts, he tries to hold onto you but something grabs his leg. The same way you’d been dragged the first night, he’s pulled out of bed. You scream his name, the bedroom door flies open, and watch as he’s dragged into the hall. 

You leap over the bed, feet tangled in the sheets as you lunge towards the door. He’s screaming, primal sounds of nothing but pure terror ripping through the house. You pound on the locked door, tearing at the knob until you think you might rip it off. 

“James! Please!” You sob against the wood, slamming your shoulder into it until it cracks. Pain shoots down to your elbow and you flinch back, “Fuck,” the screams go quiet on the other side of the door and your eyes widen. 

“James!” You screech, your fists pound against the door until you feel the skin crack and blood dribble down your arms. Something cool brushes against your neck, like a breath. “Stop,” you plead, “stop it, give him back.”

The door swings outward, the wrong way, and you wonder how the hinges don’t break. The only light on is the linen closet. The same closest that you know has a scuttlehole. You don’t think, just run towards it. Your bare feet pound against the hardwood, shaking the whole house in your race for the door. 

You burst through, nearly stumbling facefirst into the ladder. You clench your eyes shut, nails digging into your palms as you look up to see the scuttle hole already open and beckoning you forward. 

Blood trails up the ladder and you could almost cry seeing it. You can’t waste time, can’t dawdle. You don’t know what happened to James but you know it’s not good that he’s quiet. You force yourself up the rickety ladder, pulling yourself into the attic and looking around for any signs of life. 

You didn’t realize how much junk the old lady had left behind in the house. But the attic is chock full of her past. Dusty and browned filing boxes litter old antique tables. Wardrobes, trunks of clothes from the fifties. A mannequin with an unfinished dress. There’s an entire life up here, one she seemed to have just willingly left behind. 

You frown down at something that really draws your eye, a box with a scrawled B.B. on the side. The light’s on, but it's dim and only illuminates the box. Still, you try and squint through the dark to find James. There’s no sign of him anywhere, you can’t help but wonder what the trail of blood on the ladder was. 

You lean down and pick up the box. “What’re you doing?”

You scream, your throat going sore from how much you seem to be doing that tonight. James is on the ladder behind you, a dazed look on his face as he waits for your answer. You tilt your head in confusion, trying to calm your heart from the adrenaline rush that was ten minutes earlier. 

These are different eyes. This isn’t him. Your gaze darts back to the box and you pass it to him. “Take that,” you demand. He doesn’t question you, if anything it seems to make him happy. He drops it down the ladder and holds his hand out to help you down. 

You take it, hissing at how cold his hands are. He only gives you another eerie smirk. Once you’re steady and on the ground, you back slowly out into the hallway. “What happened earlier?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. I must have been sleepwalking.”

Your face drops and you scoff, “You were fucking dragged down the hall and I got locked in the bedroom. You weren’t sleepwaking, James.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and flips the lights off. You’re plunged into darkness, a slight whimper ripping its way out of your throat. You’re forced to rely on his guidance as he leads you down the hall. “You’re tired, Doll, we should just go to bed.”

You think back to the box, waiting for you in the closet. There’s no arguing with him, though. You’ll have to deal with it tomorrow morning. You can only pray that you’re not awoken so violently again. 

“Sweetheart,” you mumble tiredly, swatting blindly at the voice. There’s a low chuckle, and then the familiar press of lips against your forehead. “Wake up, I’ve gotta go soon.”

You’re slow to open your eyes, just barely making out James’ blurry shape. “James,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes to try and force them to focus on his form. “What’re you doing?” You asked, words slurring together. 

He places a tray down on the nightstand and the smells of coffee and pancakes break your dazed trance. You sit up straighter in bed, giving him a confused look. Two years of dating, and a few months of marriage, not once has he greeted you with breakfast in bed. 

“James?” you question, he only shakes his head, darting forward to kiss you. Your eyes flutter shut and you find yourself leaning into the touch. It doesn’t take long for it to grow heated, his chilled hands drifting under your shirt and tugging you towards him. 

You’re finding it easier and easier to simply give in to his whims. Your legs spread over his and you melt into his hold like you were made to fit against him. “Shit, Doll,” he huffs against your parted lips, pupils blown wide as he stares up at you. His lips are a pretty pink, swollen, and glistening from your kisses. You almost want to bite them. 

You hold back the urge, leaning back and giving him a small smile. It’s enough to make his whole face light up. “You know how badly I want to stay in bed with you today?” You almost invite him to, but the foggy cloud of an abrupt wake-up finally parts. 

You remember the box from last night, what you need to do today. So, you pull back from him, his arms releasing you reluctantly. It’s so peculiar, how his metal hand is warmer than the flesh one. “Going to work?”

He hums, eyes narrowing in on you suspiciously. You reach for the coffee and take a sip, exactly how you like it. It’s pathetic that your suspicion grows because you know your husband doesn’t know how you take your coffee. 

“I’ll miss you,” you tell him, and it’s the first time you haven’t had to force the words out to appease him. It almost feels genuine this time. He gives you a resigned smile, kissing your cheek and leaning back. 

He pets Alpine, stroking down her smooth white fur and smiling at her too. “I’ll see you both later,” he tells you, a promise. You bite your lip and nod. His footsteps echo down the stairs and you leap off the bed, the abrupt move scaring the life out of Alpine. She growls in discontent and stalks off. The door closes and you run to the window, watching the driveway to make sure he’s gone for sure. 

You race into the hall, throwing the closet door open and dragging the dusty box out. Mildew and mold cling to it, but you don’t have time to be concerned with germs. You need answers. You take it downstairs, toss it on the kitchen table, and forget all about your breakfast upstairs. 

It’s odd, how much cozier the house has become. Sunlight streams through the windows and warms your seats and couches. You no longer feel eyes in the shadows. A creak is just a creak. It’s like your fear has just been snatched from you. 

The thought is enough to unsettle you, but you ignore it for now. You’ll worry about that another day. You toss the lid of the file box inside and what greets you only further irritates you. Piles of unorganized papers and pictures, each of the more faded by time than the other. 

You pluck out the first one you see and nearly gasp. It’s James, but not James. A picture of a WWII soldier, in his uniform and posing in front of an army vehicle. He looks just like your husband, but his eyes crinkle a little more when he smiles, his happiness palpable through the picture. He’s even got a prosthetic arm. 

You flip the picture over, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, is written out in pretty cursive. Directly under it is 1942. You drop the picture, taking a few steps back and shaking your head. “No, no, nope,” you shake your head, simply ignoring the truth that lay in front of you. 

Somewhere out there, there’s an alternative version of your husband who was a WWII veteran and apparently lived in this house. Same fucking name and everything. “Oh, fuck me, this is insane.” You glare at the box, not wanting to believe anything you’re seeing. 

How could your life have devolved into this shitfest, just because you moved into one fucking house? How could one crappy ad in the newspaper have completely turned your life upside down and thrown you into the twilight zone?

You throw yourself into a chair, slumping over the wooden table and taking in grounding breaths. You wanted the truth, you’re going to get it. Even if none of it makes any sense. The next few pictures you grab are all in the same sepia tint. One of him standing in front of the garden, another before a truck, even one in the goddamn armchair currently sitting in your living room. And in each one, he looks as happy as can be. But there’s something nearly artificial in his smile. 

You look at the pictures on your mantle and frown. You can’t exactly judge him. You’ve got the same smile in all your pictures too. Just slightly off, something about it slightly forced for the sake of the person beside you.

You find one of him with a very unhappy-looking woman. She’s pretty, even if she does look a little wicked, and she also looks remarkably like you. What bizzaro world is this? She’s nearly identical to you, but she looks goddamn miserable. A hulking blond man has his arm slung around Bucky, fingers just barely grazing the woman’s shoulder. 

You flip it over and find, Bette, Bucky & Steve at the new house, 1950. Bette, the woman who sold you the house. Who told you what nursing home her kids were sticking her in. You leap up from the table, running to grab your coat and racing out of the house. 

Bucky glances down at James' phone and grins. He pulls the car into the apartment complex and picks up the call, “Hello?”

“Where are you?” The woman on the other end demands sharply. 

Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and fighting back the spirit surging within him. His left hand twitches without his permission and his eyes narrow in frustration. James was easy enough to subdue last night. He was caught off guard, terrified. 

Now, he’s pissed off and fighting. Bucky doesn’t appreciate the efforts to take control. “I just pulled in. I’ll be up in a minute.” He shuts the phone off and jerks the rearview mirror to face him. The eyes that stare back at him are not his own. 

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” James demands, spitting the words out like he has any sort of power over Bucky. 

Bucky grins, “Wasn’t planning on it.”

James’ face falls and his eyes widen with worry. “What does that mean?” Bucky flips the mirror back in place, glancing up to the third-story apartment where Martha waits for him. He turns the engine off, slowly exits the car, and makes his way up the stairs. 

He’s sure to take his time, enjoying how James grows more and more terrified. It only feeds him, makes him stronger, and grants him more control over him. He’s getting better at controlling him, finally had enough strength to fully take over last night. 

Before, he only had the energy to take over the body for a few hours, at most. But the longer he held influence over James, the further his influence spread. Soon, he could leave the house, without having to use James’ body as an anchor. He’s evolved past anchors and the brick walls that once contained him. He only had one last loose end before he could be with you fully. 

He knocked on the red door, waiting for Martha to answer. It didn’t take long. She threw the door open, face screwed up with rage. “Look who came back. I told you that little bitch of yours wouldn’t be good enough for you.”

Bucky kept the look on his face serene. He tried not to show the rage that raced through him at her grating tone. He wanted to rip her tongue out and choke her with it. He wished he could pluck out her eyeballs and serve them to her on a silver platter. A million different ways came to him as he stepped into her apartment. 

“Hello, Martha.”

“Thanks for seeing me, Bette.”

Bette kept her hands in her lap, picking at the wrinkles of her skin. “It’s grown so thin,” she looked at you, seeing straight through you. “I used to be like you, so pretty, so young.”

Your face screws up in discomfort and you nod dismissively. “You know why I want to talk.”

Bette sighs and clicks her tongue. “Oh, Bucky,” she says his name forlornly, playing the perfect mourning lover. But you know better, she doesn’t mean a damn bit of her grief. 

“Drop it,” you snap, looking around to make sure no nurses are watching. The white sterile walls of the nursing home loom over you. Bette’s eyes snap towards you, the thin film of dementia disappears and she slumps into her chair. 

“Fine. Dammit, what the hell do you want? You already took my house.”

“Yeah, and your damn ghost. I want some fucking answers, Bette.”

She chuckles, the noise bitter and her expression cruel. “You know, you remind me a lot of Bucky. Got that same kicked puppy look to you that makes me want to smack you around.” Despite your best intentions of remaining passive, you feel your heart twinge in sympathy for Bucky. 

Bette’s got the same bitter look in her eye that James used to. You don’t see much of it anymore. Strange how much your life has changed in just over two weeks. “I thought he’d see you and finally move on. He’d finally get his damn revenge on me, I mean you look just like me.”

You can’t help but agree with her. You slip the picture out of your purse and put it on the table before you. “I saw,” you mutter, glancing down at the uncanny resemblance between you both. “I want to know what happened, Bette. I want to know why he’s stuck in my walls, why he’s stuck in my husband,” you add.

Her eyes widen and her jaw gapes. “He’s got your husband?” You nod and you’re caught off guard when she begins to cackle. “God, even dead he’s still the same pathetic, snivelling bastard he used to be.”

You can’t help but get angry, you almost want to defend him. Sure, he’s tormented you, but clearly, he had a reason to be bitter about having to look at your face all the damn time. You’d go crazy too if this was the bitch you were married to. 

“Bette,” you warn, voice low. 

She huffs and snatches the picture. “No harm in telling you, I suppose.” She gives you a wicked grin, “No one will believe you anyway.”

“I met Bucky when I was young, too young. We got married because he was getting shipped off to war. He wanted someone to write letters to, to come home to, and I figured he’d die before I ever saw him again. I could cash in on widow’s benefits. Then the son of a bitch had to go and get honorably discharged for getting his arm blown off.”

Your brows furrow in disgust. You’ve never seen such an evil old woman before. You pray you don’t turn into a wicked old hag like her when you get older. “Steve, his best friend, was discharged around the same time as him. Came to live with us for a while so he could get his life in order.”

Bette glares at you and tosses the picture back to you. You catch it before it slides off the table and she keeps going. “See, some women weren’t as loyal as I was. His lady moved on real fast, left him lonely and looking for a warm place to sleep at night. Bucky, well, he just wasn’t a man. He obeyed me like a little bitch and took every hit I gave him because he thought he deserved it. Steve never did that, always put me in my place. He was a man,” she hisses out the word and you have the sudden urge to slap her. 

“One thing led to another, we were in love and Bucky was in the way. We got rid of him, what else do you want me to say?”

You can’t even figure out where to begin. She’s fucking despicable. Not only did she not love him, he was utterly devoted to her and she fucked his best friend. Killed him to be with him. Despite this overload of information, only one question comes to you. 

“Where did you bury him?”

5 PM

You let out a loud grunt, sweat pouring down your back as you bring the sledgehammer into the brick wall. There’s a loud crack and you pause, taking a step back. A moment later a brick slips out of its place. It doesn’t take much longer for the others to follow. 

There’s a loud crash as it all comes tumbling down, decades of dust and debris float into the air. It drifts down your nose and creeps into your lungs. You drop the sledgehammer to the cement of the basement with a clatter. You kneel over, waving the dust away and trying to cough it out. 

Something rolls against the floor, something hollow that clatters against your shoe. You glance down, stunned into silence as a gaping skull stares back up at you. You stumble away from it, nearly kicking it back, and trip right into the warm chest of your husband. 

Bucky stares down at you, his face blank and devoid of anything you might be able to read. “You talked to Bette?”

You nod mutely, taking a step back from him. You wince as your heel comes down on something that cracks under your weight. You try to look down, to see what bone you’ve just broken, but he stops you. He grabs your chin, tilting your face towards him and forcing you to meet his eyes. “What are you going to do?” He demands, he tries to sound strong, but you can hear the fear that trembles under the cool tone. 

Rest In Peace

Husband, Brother, Friend

James Buchanan Barnes

“It’s a bit morbid isn’t it?” You peer up at him and shake your head. 

“No, he deserves a proper burial.” You place the flowers on top of the fresh grave and stand. You take a few steps back and Bucky pulls you into his chest. “You, I mean. I just feel like your memory deserves its rightful resting place.”

He lets out a heavy sigh and you squeeze his hand. “You think Steve’s in here somewhere?”

You scoff and feel yourself growing angry on his behalf. “He deserves to rot under a bridge somewhere, along with that bitch.”

Bucky laughs pulling back from you and giving you a wide smile. It’s genuine, the first genuine smile you’ve seen on his face in a long time. “Thank you,” he mutters. You shrug, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m your wife, I’m supposed to have your back.” You reach up, pushing a wave back behind his ear. He’s finally let his hair grow out again. He complains it gets in his eyes when he tries to garden, but you love how it looks on him so he keeps it. 

His face lights up, the same way it always does when you say you’re his wife. You interlace your fingers together, pulling him away from his grave and back towards the car. You’re supposed to meet Mrs. Barnes soon, you’re having Thanksgiving dinner at your house tomorrow so the whole family can finally see it. 

Since the discovery of Bucky’s bones and the literal skeleton in the house's closet, you’ve kept family members away from you both for a while. It was a long adjustment period, getting used to the truth and each other. Accepting the fact that James was gone for good wasn’t as hard a pill to swallow as it should have been.  

You have a theory that you both were meant to be with each other, either in the forties or today. Something got messed up in the universe’s timeline and instead, you got James and he got Bette. This paranormal experience must have just been fate’s way of cleaning up what it had ruined so horribly. 

You look up at Bucky, the way his eyes crinkle even when he’s not smiling, and feel something warm spreading through your chest. You don't mind the cold fingers and chilling touch at night when it’s him you’re sharing it with. 

You place the turkey down in front of Bucky and he sends you a blissful smile. You can’t help but lean over the back of his chair and plant a loud kiss on his cheek. Janey gags, tossing a roll at her older brother. “Quit it, would you, I’d like to have an appetite.”

You chuckle, taking your seat beside him. Bucky can’t help but want to cry. This is what he’s wanted for so long. His family back, the woman he loves to love him back. It’s what he begged for. The loss of it all had turned him into this bitter, malevolent spirit. 

As much as he’d like to say he regrets or feels guilt for what he did to Bette, Steve, Martha, and James, he can’t. He tormented Steve until he died of a terror-induced heart attack at fifty. He’d driven poor Bette into the nursing home where her children would let her rot for the rest of her miserable life. Martha won’t be heard from again. 

And James, poor James. He must have had the worst fate of them all. It’s been a while since he’s heard anything from James. He searches for him now, his tiny presence lingering somewhere in the back of his mind. 

Bucky takes your hand, looks at his sisters and mother, and smiles at them. He raises his glass for a toast, slapping at James until he’s forced out of his slumber. Look, he thinks, speaking of all he’s grateful for to you and the other women. They know, he feels James looking through his eyes. 

He sees the way his family smiles at Bucky, and how much happier they look with him. They know, he tells James, they know I’m not you. James pounds futilely against Bucky’s walls. He screams and sobs, begging for you to help him. 

They don’t want you, James. They know that the world is better without you. He lets James linger in his misery, he savors his despair, lets it energize him, and then tosses him back to the abyss. James goes quietly, he gave up fighting a while ago. 

It wouldn’t matter anyway. His brief period of rebellion has fed Bucky enough to keep him subdued for the rest of his life. You squeeze his hand, “I love you,” you whisper, passing him the sweet potatoes. 

He smiles back at you and repeats the same words he’s already said a hundred times to you. This is at it always should have been. Steve, Bette, and James were all stepping stones to get him to you. He wasn’t going to let you go now. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Marvel (Winter Soldier), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[bisexualiteaa]

Sugar, Oh Honey Honey

AN: OKAY HEAR ME OUT! HEAR ME OUT! I was scrolling through here and stumbled this wonderful gif posted by @the-casual-cat of Barry Sloane and it got me and @expirednukacola thinking…what if that scene, but with Cooper or Hancock? 👀 I started with Hancock, but if y’all would like, I will absolutely do a version with Cooper next! Hope y’all enjoy!

CW: FLUFF! Slight OOC Hancock, established relationship, slight deviation from the game, cursing, kissing, make out, slight suggestive theme, implied seggs, briefly proofread, possible spelling/grammar errors.

The gif in question 😮‍💨🥵🤤

You and Hancock were off exploring the commonwealth, out to gather some supplies for your next trip and maybe some goods to sell in trade for ammo and chems. It was a rather successful trip, didn’t stumble across anything too crazy, but you gathered enough food, stimpacks, ammo, and other useful items to bring with you to keep you stocked when the time came that you would both hit the road again. As the sun began to set along the wastes, you looked to the sky, feeling the damp humidity hang within the air as dark clouds started to accumulate in the sky. A radstorm was coming, and coming quick with the way the wind started to pick up. Unfortunately that meant your return to Goodneighbor for the night would likely be too dangerous. So instead, you both set on the look out for a place with a good roof, or as good as they get anymore anyway, and not holed up by any raiders. You both did the best you could to try and find something as fast as you could, but unfortunately you couldn’t quite beat the rain before it began to drizzle. Hancock offered you his signature tri-corn hat to keep your head and your hair protected from the harsh, radiated rain water. You smiled, accepting his offer and placing it on your head, thanking him for it as you both continued your search.

“Ya look pretty cute like that, sunshine. Might just have to let you steal it from me more often” he complimented, almost unable to take his eyes off of you, making you giggle softly. It had been a while since the last time he really got to spend any quality time with you, so he couldn’t help himself in the way he drank you in like the tallest glass of water this side of the desert. He was snapped from his thoughts when you stopped in place, finally stumbling across a house that looked like it would be sturdy enough to hold out in as the storm passed. One that had a nice roof that wasn’t too terribly beat up compared to the rest, had no fire or light of any kind coming from it to indicate anyone was using it for shelter. It was perfect, just what you both had been looking for. You grabbed his hand before quickly leading him inside the house.

There was a routine you both had when you scavenge places for supplies and find somewhere to hole up for the night out in the commonwealth. You would both split up, one person inspecting one half of the house, and one person taking the other. Inspecting every room, behind every door, every nook and cranny you could think of to ensure there were no traps, and no people here that would be angry to find unknowing trespassers. Once the house was thoroughly swept to ensure there was no threat, you made your way into the kitchen. A taller, yellow box resting on the counter caught your eye. You gasped excitedly, finding it to be a well intact box of your favorite cereal from before the bombs fell. Sugar Bombs, ironically enough. “Holy shit! I didn’t know there were any of these that were still around!” You said in shock, picking up the box to inspect it. You knew it was well past its sell by date by now, but in that moment the state of the actual contents inside didn’t matter to you, seeing the box was enough to bring you back to that nostalgic place of a time before the war. Hancock was still off in another room, collecting what things he could manage to find before he heard you, wondering what it was you were going on about. “What’d you find that’s got you so excited, sunshine?” Hancock asked, genuinely curious as he came back into the kitchen, seeing a box clutched in your hands. “Only my favorite cereal of ALL time!” You said, smiling excitedly as you turned around to face him, holding out the box of cereal to show him what you had been so ecstatic about. He loved the way that some of the smallest things brought you joy, even in hard times like these. In the wasteland there wasn’t much to be happy about, between the awful creatures and people trying to kill and maim you around every corner, to the stifling heat and radiation ready to bake you the moment you stepped outside. Not much made people happy to be alive anymore. It was nice to see you find happiness in something, and he had to admit, the fact that it was over something as simple and small as a box of your once favorite cereal, was even cuter. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched to his thin, irradiated lips as you looked so overjoyed.

“Sugar Bombs! 100% of your daily value of sugar” you quoted the slogan everyone knew, from the box and the commercials they used to advertise on TV about them. “These things were the shit back then. Best way to get a shit ton of sugar in your diet to start the morning off right” you said through a laugh, recalling some good memories of spending weekends and mornings before school on the couch enjoying a bowl as you watched whatever was on the TV at the time. How you would happily kick your feet with every bite. “Did you ever try them, John?” You asked him, genuinely curious but he was far too entertained by the way that the box was still clutched in your hand like you’d found a long lost treasure. “Yeah, I tried ‘em once. I remember them being stale but it was the only thing around I could get my hands on” he said with a chuckle. “I used to eat the fuck out of these as a kid. Good and stale. Not sure I’d do the same now but it’s at least cool to see and reminisce on” you said. He loved learning new things about you, especially about your past. He always felt like he talked too much about himself and his own past, so it was nice to get bits and pieces of yours now and again. It’s why he loved moments like this where it was just the two of you, it felt almost intimate in a way. “Yeah, they’re good and all but…I’m already lookin’ at 100% of my daily value of sugar right here” Hancock said with a sly grin, making a bashful blush rise to your cheeks before you smiled. “Speaking of, that reminds me…” he spoke, slipping his arms around your waist to pull you close to him as you still held onto the box of cereal in one hand. You smiled up at him dreamily, charmed by his smooth moves and charming words as he looked down at you, absolutely love struck. He adored the sight of you in his hat, he really did need to lend it to you more often, but more so than that, he adored being here with you. “I haven’t had my daily value of sugar from you yet. What’dya say we fix that?” He asked, his low, gravelly tone dipping even lower at the prospect of his question.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him, a soft giggle escaping you before looping your arms around his neck. His free hand came to rest on your cheek gently as he leaned in, pulling you to him and into a sweet kiss. You smiled and hummed into it in delight, always loving the feel of his rough skin against your own, the way just a kiss from him could ignite a fire in your core. Your body acted on pure instinct and need, as your free hand moved to rest just beneath his jaw, both of you doing all you could to keep the other close. When you had time alone like this, distance was the last thing you wanted between you. Soon your once soft and innocent kiss took a more intimate turn. Your hand slid down from his jaw, gently cascading down the front of his frilly white undershirt before looping around his waist, pulling him against you to effectively rid of any space standing between you. If there was one thing he loved about you that made you different from most, was that you were a woman who made it known what she wanted. He was honored to know that in this moment, and in all other moments down the road, that he was what you wanted. That out of all the people who populate the surface, it was him you chose. He’ll never truly understand why or what you see, but it made him happy and he considered himself a lucky ghoul nonetheless. You felt his larger hands begin to do the same to you, one resting on your back, keeping you to him, and the other trailing down your side before pulling you against him by the fabric of your shirt. There was need laced in the kiss, evident by the way your hands roamed each other’s bodies. It was heated, passionate, and something you normally didn’t get to share outside of the safety of his room at the old state house. Out here, there was a sort of thrill to it. You both smiled into your deepened kiss as you dropped the box of cereal to the ground, in favor of allowing your hands to properly roam underneath the fabric of his red coat. Hancock tapped the back of your thigh, a signal that he wanted to pick you up. As he did, his hands rested on your ass, holding you up before placing you down on the kitchen counter behind you without breaking the kiss. It was skillful almost, and you were always surprised by his strength, how he lifted you so effortlessly as if you weighed nothing in his hands. The position you were now in made it quite evident where the night was going to be leading, but you certainly didn’t mind. A night of passion with Hancock was always wonderful, and he couldn’t be happier that it was with the woman he loved most in this wasteland existence.

[thegnomelord]

Patience Is a Virtue

CW: Sub Top reader, Dom bottom Price, monster AU, dragon hybrid Price, Mage male reader, objectification, use of cock and strap, humiliation, edging, dom/sub, praise kink, getting called 'good boy', mild mirror sex. Might be OOC as I'm not familiar with cod. MDNI

You had fucked up.

Granted, you'd never admit or acknowledge that.

You didn't even see anything wrong by charging the enemy against his orders believing the ends justified the means. You were always like that, reckless and dismissive of your own mortality, happy to rush head first into the enemy fire if it meant one enemy was consumed by your magic. He couldn't fault you fully, the raging inferno of magic controlled you as much as you controlled it, but Price still couldn't have an asset disobeying orders like you did. Conventional punishments couldn't get through your thick skull, so he'd need to come up with a better solution...

Price got creative.

He had given you one simple order: Do not Move.

His heavy body pinned you down, thick and powerful thighs bracketing your hips, pleased growls rumbling in his chest as Price rose and then sank down on a cock.

But it wasn't your dick, he hadn't deemed you worthy of using your actual cock to pleasure him, instead fastening a strap-on to your waist. The silicone was the color of your eyes, and you could see the way it disappeared inside him through the dresser mirror behind him, wet with spit and lube.

The dragon hybrid had sucked the dildo when he first put it on you, ordering you to sit and watch as his lips wrapped around the silicone head. His long draconic tongue lapped at the artificial cum hole before he'd taken the entire thing to the balls, nose flush with your abdomen and pretty lips stretched taught, throat bulging from it and drool running down his chin. Indecently lewd sounds escaped his mouth as he pulled back, worshiping the silicone cock like a pious believer.

His eyes had never left yours, draconic gold glowing in the dark and just daring you to try going against his orders. You had needed to use every bit of your resolve to just stay fucking still, thinking of dead puppies and naked grandmas — anything to stop yourself from touching him when he'd growl with the fake cock balls deep in his throat, the sound vibrating the base of the strap on against your trapped cock beneath it.

It would send a jolt of pleasure down your spine, sizzling arousal and desperate want burning in your chest, but it wasn't enough.

Now, Price languidly rode 'you', pleased growls rumbling in his chest, slow hip movements allowing the fake cock to rub every inch of his walls. You'd know when the silicone would brush against his prostate by the way his wing would flex, by the way his tail would curl up like a beast in heat and his hungry hole would flutter around the strap, by the way the most sinful growled moan would come from his chest and his hips would grind down to prolong the sensation.

Your patience was beginning to evaporate, desiring nothing more than to pull more of those sounds from him, to be the reason behind his pleasure, to replace that damned stap and feel his greedy hole suck you in, to feel his body clench around you with draconic strength.

Price knew this, and he paid no attention to your torment.

He continued to ride you like a toy(which you were in a way), his eyes closed and head thrown back, one hand lazily stroking his own dick. Your eyes snapped to the strands of precum leaking from his tip, pooling in the grooves of your muscles, your mouth watering with the sudden desire to taste him.

He caught your gaze as he cracked open an eye, a pleased smirk on his features as he dipped his fingers into the puddle of precum and dragged his claws along your skin, sharp nails making your skin crawl from feeling his touch for the first time in a while.

It was comical how quickly you could feel your resolve slipping, fiery arousal burning hotter than mana in your veins.

Honestly, this torture should be considered a fucking war crime.

"Fuck, Price." You hissed through clenched teeth, not noticing how hard you were panting, the mana inside you burning hot. "Come on, I said I was sorry. Just let me fuck you already."

Price let out a chuckle, settling to sit fully in your lap, tail curling up just so you could see how his hole stretched and fluttered around the silicone. "You are fuckin' me." He said, fangs displayed in a grin.

That fucking dragon-

"That's not what I meant." You hastily replied, groaning when he ground down, grinding the base of the strap against your cock. "Fuck, I promise I'll follow orders next time, just, fucking please."

"You will now?" Price snorted, tone degrading, making arousal burn in your chest. "Is this all it takes? Not getting your knob wet for five minutes is enough for my mage to loose all that pride?"

You just whined at his mocking words, echoing a few more pleas without even realizing it, magic sparking along your skin with the desire to touch him, even as his words kept you down.

He chuckled, reaching out to grip your hair, pulling on it until you sat up and immediately shoving your face into his chest, almost smothering you in heaven. "Go on then, love, let's see how well behaved you are."

You didn't need to be told twice, tongue lolling out to lather his pecs with licks and kisses, teeth eagerly nibbling on his skin. A pleased rumble shook Price's chest and he rocked his hips, working to make your arousal burn hotter, urging your mind to further take what was offered to you. You sucked on his skin until his skin was marked with bruises and bitemarks, his nipples hard and puffy and covered with saliva.

"Thank you, fuck." you growled, throwing a praise to the powers that be, the desperation to touch more, to feel more, driving your body as you reached out to roughly grope his arse, pulling his body down on you while you bit his nipple hard.

A resounding growl came from his chest, yanking your head from his chest as his tail slapped your hand away, the thick appendage wrapping like a chain around your arm. "What did I tell you, boy?"

The roughness in his voice made your dick just that bit harder, making it almost impossible to think. "Stay still."  You growled, teeth clenching with the desire to swear when he ground his hips down, sending jolts up your spine.

"And what did you do? The exact opposite." He growled, the rich green scales on his tail chaffing against your skin.

“But I-” You went to argue before your rational mind caught up with your dick, recognizing that all arguing would do would make Price prolong this fucking torture. “-I’m… I’m sorry.”

"Sure you are." He said in a flat tone, draconic eyes narrowed.

"I am." You repeated, your eyes glowing with the mana in your chest, casting light on his features. "Fuck, Price, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." It was obvious you weren't used to apologizing, and you hoped your inexperience in this department would make Price take mercy on you.

The clawed hand in your hair stroked down the side of your face to hold your chin, holding your head in place as if you'd ever dream of pulling away. Your body leaned in automatically, finally you'd be able to feel his hole flutter around you instead of that god forsaken strap, finally you'd be able to touch him after being denied for so long.

"Ready to be a good boy for me sweetheart?"

He mumbled as his lips brushed against yours, voice smooth like honey. You nodded dumbly, his fangs lightly nibbling on your lip as he ground his hips ground down on yours, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine.

Then he pushed you to lie on your back with a clawed hand on your chest, pinning you to the bed again.

"Then be a good boy, and stay still, just for five more minutes." He said, a sadistic glint in his eyes, thick thighs tensing as he began riding the strap again. "You can handle that, can't you? You did disobey me again." This time, his movements were rougher, the movements sharper, his full weight bearing down on your poor dick trapped beneath the base of the strap, pleasure and pain sparking in your brain all over again.

And you realized, you had fucked up.

[forggywrites]

I been thinking about make this request,basically platonic headcanons of Miguel with a gn reader that is very young(14-15) and have a symbiote, reader meets miguel due to him as spiderman rescues reader from some bastards that were experimenting with reader for the perfect symbiosis they had, the reader is very skinny and easily scared and the symbiote is very protective over reader, miguel is also very protective over reader and theach them how to control their power,basically miguel being a mentor/father figure for the reader Who admires him and want to protect the multiverse like him(like a sidekick).

If this is so Long youre Free to ignore

I LOVE this idea!

PLATONIC Miguel x GN teen reader w/venom symbiote.

I’m trying to make this as general as possible so anyone can read it, but sorry if I make any mistakes.

CW: use of y/n, Miguel might be slightly ooc, talk of human experimentation, kidnapping, abuse, violence, medical settings, venom needs his own warning.

—————————

It was cold.

So fucking cold.

The only color on your skin was dark blotches from struggling against your captors.

You were unsure of how long you’ve been locked in this dank room.

You had barely eaten or drank anything since ending up here, so you were multiple pounds lighter than you normally were.

Your muscles had lost a significant amount of definition from only moving when they moved you.

You didn’t know who they were or what they wanted, but you did gather they didn’t target you specifically.

The experiments were painful.

No matter how much you screamed or cried they never stopped.

After one of the first experiments you started hearing a voice.

The voice was deep and grainy, it told you that it was known as Venom and it came from space.

”These people took me as well… I can help you escape.”

You had ignored the voice, telling yourself it was just the trauma and isolation.

Until a particularly painful test.

Your entire body felt like it was burning, your screams were deafening.

Suddenly the restraints that held you down snapped, and you felt something ooze all over your body.

You were unable to control your actions. The lab was destroyed and your captors were all dead. Heads had been ripped off and digested by the thing controlling your body.

You watched as your much taller body escaped from the hellhole you had been kept in.

As soon as you got out the black goo dissipated, leaving your much smaller, frail body in its wake.

”You’re welcome” the voice rasped.

Your legs started to move, you ran as far and fast as you could, tears streamed down your face as you were finally free.

Before you knew it, you had ended up in a crowded city. You were unaware your tattered clothes were covered in blood.

Your tired feet tracked down the sidewalk, many avoided you, uncaring of your beaten and bloody form.

”Hey, kid-“ a hand landed on your shoulder.

Venom did not like that.

Suddenly your body was taken over once again, wreaking havoc on anything and everything.

People screamed as your monstrous form throws a tantrum.

Then you hear a thwip and your once again muscular arm gets pulled.

A man in a dark blue and red suit starts to face off with you.

His attacks were deliberate and calculated, quickly taking your exhausted form down.

You feel your head smash against the concrete and loose consciousness once more

—————————

There you were, in another lonely room. Trapped yet again.

But this time it was warmer, you were lying in a comfortable bed with tubes and wires running from your body to various machines.

The high pitched beeping was annoying you, so off came the wires as you tried to stop the noise.

But it only got worse.

A high pitched scream came out of the machine next to you, your body felt like it was on fire once again. You covered your ears as you screamed in pain.

With the noise a group of doctors and the man from before rushed into the room, attempting to reattach the monitors and calm you down.

Your arm reached out, wrapped in the familiar black goo, and shattered the machine. Stopping the noise and actions of the oddly dressed people in the room.

Venom’s goo retreated back into you, soaking back into your skin.

Everyone in the room was frozen. Not knowing what to do or how to respond to the outburst.

”Where am I?” You rasped out, your throat was dry and scratchy from dehydration and screaming.

One of the people left the room and quickly returned with a bottle of water. You gulped it down in no time, panting from the lack of oxygen.

”You’re in a secure location.” The man from before piped up, he was still wearing the odd mask and outfit.

The doctors and nurses attempted to restore what you had ripped out, but you flinched as a hand touched you.

They stopped again, not wanting more destruction.

”Please let them help you, you’ve been injured.” The man says.

You looked at the tall man in front of you.

”Why am I here?” You question him.

”You attempted to destroy the city.” He grunts

”No I didn’t! It was that thing those “scientists” gave me!” You shout, trying to defend yourself.

“I AM NOT A THING, CHILD. I AM VENOM. AND I HELPED YOU!” Venom screamed, though only you could hear him.

“What thing, and what scientists?” The tall man inquired.

”The black gooey thing, Venom. It appeared after one of the experiments the guys who took me did…” you trailed off, struggling to explain exactly what had happened to you.

The man stands for a moment, thinking. “Were you kidnapped?” He asked.

”I- I don’t really remember…” you look down, uncomfortable with all the eyes on you.

The tall man sighs and approaches you slowly, his mask suddenly dissipated before he started talking.

”I’m Miguel, what’s your name?” He had a small smile on his face, trying not to intimidate you more than he already has.

”it’s Y/n.”

“Well Y/n, I want to help you. Can you tell me what happened?”

—————————

After a long explanation Miguel told you that he needed to work some things out, so he left you under close watch by the nurses.

While he was gone you were given a small meal consisting of a sandwich, some carrots, and a cup of chocolate pudding. The doctors didn’t want you to eat too much as to not cause your malnourished body any harm, but you were still hungry.

Until you got to the chocolate pudding.

”That is amazing, I love it.” Venom says.

”it’s chocolate pudding.” You respond.

”I need more. I don’t feel as hungry anymore.”

—————————

When Miguel returned there was a pile of empty chocolate pudding cups on the bedside table and you were asking for more.

A nurse was trying to reason with you. ”Why don’t I get you some more carrots? You shouldn’t be eating so much sugar-“

”I need chocolate, that’s what he wants.” You argued.

”Hey kid. What do you mean by “it’s what he wants”?” Miguel questions you.

”Venom. He said chocolate makes him less hungry, and I was hoping if I kept eating it he’d finally shut up.” You avoided making eye contact with the tall male.

”Interesting… I did a little research and it seems that you’ve become a host for some sort of extra terrestrial being.”

“Well duh, Venom told me that already.” You give Miguel a deadpan look.

”It would have been nice to know that…” Miguel sighs. “We can start looking into removing the…”

”Symbiote”

”Right, Symbiote. We can look into removing the symbiote if you’d like.”

Suddenly the black goo emerges once again, taking over your face.

”I AM NOT GOING ANYWHERE YOU SPIDER SHIT!” Venom roars and then sinks back into your skin. Leaving you back to normal.

…

“I don’t think he wants to leave…”

”Well that was kind of obvious.” Miguel sighs.

—————————

It had been a few days since your arrival at the “secure location”, which after enough bugging of Miguel, you found out was the spider society. A place where spider folk like him from hundreds of different universes came together to protect the multiverse.

You had started trusting Miguel, and he the same with you. It was odd to others to see such a cold man being so caring and protective of a child who had “tried to kill him”.

He wasn’t the biggest fan of Venom, but when he realized you had a certain knack with the alien he stopped trying to convince you to separate from him.

Soon enough you started to train with Venom, Miguel helping you along the way. Miguel taught you hand to hand combat, self defense, and so much more.

Once Miguel believed you were ready, you started to go on missions with him. You met many other Spider folk and even made some good friends along the way.

Miguel knew that Venom needed phenylethylamine (or PEA for short) to survive. And since the only places you could get that was from brains or chocolate, he made sure there was always a large stock of chocolate around for you and venom, at least until he could develop something to give you the PEA you needed in a different way.

Miguel was glad that he had gone out on patrol that day, knowing that if he didn’t, he might not have met the kid who changed his life for the better.

—————————

Thanks for reading y’all! This was WAY longer than I was expecting, but hey, I got into it. I might make some separate or more headcanons with this reader/scenario.

(Also I got my first dose of testosterone done this morning, so your boy is finally on T!!!)

[ryder-writes]

Those Who Play with Fire Get Burnt- Dabi x GN!Reader

Summary: Dabi realizes that you are his weakness. Any of his enemies could easily use you to lure him into a trap. He loves you, but he loves his dream more.

CW: This is pure angst. Warning now. Toxic ending of relationship, manipulation (kinda), kidnapping, ends in death by fire, betrayal of trust. Also Dabi a little ooc (I say that cuz I don’t think he would be in a relationship to begin with lmao)

A/n: I just want to say, THIS IS NOT MEANT TO ROMANTICIZE TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS! Pls stay safe y'all <3

WC: 1.1k

You were scared. Scared, tired, and confused. You didn’t know where you were. You assumed a bag was over your head, as you couldn’t see. Your hands were tied behind the back of the small wooden chair you were sitting on. Your ankles tied to the legs of the chair. The air smelled like rust and mold. It was humid as well, which made you think you were in an old, abandoned building of some kind. You were correct. However, your spirits were not completely broken. You knew that your boyfriend would come and save you. Dabi loved you. You were his world. He would fight for you; he would show up. And, he did.

On the opposite side of the room, Dabi stood in the doorway; leaning against the broken framing of the door. He felt bad. He really did.  It was his fault you were here in the first place. He had stupidly decided to seek refuge in a random apartment after being chased for what felt like hours, and he stupidly chose yours. You had grown closer, and your apartment became a place of refuge for him. A home he never had. But that was his mistake. He hurts everyone he gets close to. Whether the hurt is his doing or not. He didn't want you to get hurt- but it had to be done. Anything that could negatively affect his plan must be taken care of. He stepped forward toward you, his boots enhancing the echo of his footsteps. You perked up. Sweat started to form on your forehead, threatening to fall down your face.

"You do anything to me and my boyfriend will burn you to the ground!" You yelled, trying to sound intimidating (you failed). Dabi laughed internally at your attempt. He stopped in front of you and slipped his right hand under your chin, lifting your head up. Your breath hitched in your throat in fear, and before you could protest or move your head away, he lifted the bag off of your head. Your fear dissipated immediately on seeing your boyfriend. "Dabi! Oh thank god!" You put your weight onto his hand. He smiled.

"Let me help you there, sweetheart." He let go of your face and went to untie your legs. Once he was finsihed, he stood back up. You looked up at him expectedly.

"You gonna untie my arms, or…?" You looked at him confused. He simply shoved his hands in his pockets. You sighed. Of all the times for him to be acting childish. "Dabi-"

"Touya." He interrupted. "My name is Touya."

"Oh- uh, okay. Touya." You were confused as to why he told you now of all times, but your emotions told you that it didn’t matter right now. "Can you untie my hands?" Touya sighed.

"I love you." He locked eyes with you. You were slightly taken aback.

"I- I love you too, Touya." You smiled up at him. "More than life itself." His breath got caught in his throat. Was he really doubting himself? He mentally shook himself off and regained his focus.

"Do you know who my father is?" He asked. You shook your head. You had never pushed Dabi to tell you about his family and he never shared it. "My father is the great hero," He bent down, and inch way from your face; " Endeavor." Your eyes widened in shock. He chuckled as he stood back up. "I know, I know. Crazy, right?"

"But- your fire-"

"It burns my skin. Yeah. A gift from my gracious mother and her ice quirk."

"Oh." You didn't know what to think. "Wait, why are you telling me this?" You snapped back to reality. Dabi wouldn't tell you all of this without reason. He ignored you and kept on talking.

"I have a plan. A plan to get revenge on my dickhead of a father. A plan that cannot have weaknesses." He looked down at you. "You, my love, are a weakness." Tears started to cloud your vision.

"So, you're breaking up with me? Why did you save me then?! Are you even telling the tru-" He put his pointer finger on your lips, making you stop talking.

"Shhhh. Patience." He removed his finger. "I can’t risk my father using you to get to me. To trick me."

"I can leave." You spoke up. "I don’t want either of us to get hurt." He grabbed you under your arms and pulled you up so you were standing against him. He looked down at you. Even through the hurt, suffering, and conflict, you could see the lovesick look in his eyes.

"When I said I would never break up with you, I meant it."

"What do you plan to do then?" You asked. You trusted Dabi, but you were scared. He was still a villain after all. He sighed.

"I led you here for a reason." You choked on your own breath.

"You- you- why?"

"I needed to be someone where no one would find you." He whispered. He leaned down, lips grazing yours. You could feel his grip on your waist tighten and his breath on your lips. You started to feel warmth down by your feet. Your heart started to race even faster as you realized your fate. You locked eyes with him. He hated how the last look he got of your gorgeous eyes was them coated in fear. "I'm sorry." He whispered. He crashed his lips onto yours, giving you as much passion and love as he could muster. You returned his kiss, your shaky lips showing the same amount of love. You felt the heat grow. Your legs started to burn as tears ran down your face. The pain was intense when mixed with Dabi's  powerful kisses. You were overwhelmed. Screams of pain were cut off by his lips and his hands kept you still. You wished you could hold him; grab onto him and never let go. He wished that he could keep making out with you, loving you, for as long as possible. However, he knew that the longer he did that, the more painful it was for you. He opened his eyes one last time to see your beautiful face. Your beautiful, perfect, tear-stricken face. He closed his eyes again and let the fire consume you. You felt overwhelming heat. Then blinding pain. Then, everything went dark.

Touya felt you go limp in his arms. He finally left the fading warmth of your lips and kissed your forehead. He gently led your body down, supporting your head as it hit the concrete floor. He had made it so most of your body was still intact (even if it was scarred beyond belief), unlike most of his victims, who immediately turn into ash. He stood up and dusted himself off, sighing.

Dabi walked away, wishing that he had the ability to cry or at least mourn your death properly.

A/n Pt. 2: Hope u enjoyed reading! I know this is a lot darker than my normal fics, so if u want some fluff/comfort feel free to check out my masterlist :]

[sctigthethird]

Bubbaverse incorrect quotes I got from an incorrect quotes generator cause why not

(disclaimer, might be a little ooc for some of them idk)

Bubba Badass by @blues-of-randomness

Clay Paclayderm by @funny-critter-blog

Dumba Dumbaphant by eggrit0s

Manny Mammoth by @anothersmilingcrittersau

Reborn (R!) Bubba, Tusker Tiredon, Selfish(S!) Bubba by me

OG Bubba: *Holding up a picture of a seemingly young anime girl* WHO IS SHE?! IS SHE TWELVE?! 
Badass: No! She's a thousand years ol- 
OG Bubba: *Cocks shotgun* 
Badass: NO! NOOOOOOOOOO-!

Clay: Do you know the ABCs of first aid? 
Dumba: A. Bone. Coming out of the skin is very bad.

Badass, at an awards show: Well, first of all, I’d like to thank Manny, the homie of my life, for telling me Clay was going to win so I shouldn’t bother preparing a speech.

R! Bubba: A mosquito tried to bite me and I slapped it and killed it. 
R! Bubba: And I started thinking. 
R! Bubba: Like, it was just trying to get food. 
R! Bubba: What if I went to the fridge and it just slammed the door shut and snapped my neck? 
Tusker: Are you ok…?

Clay: Does anyone know how to relax? Asking for a friend.

S! Bubba: Well you see, the explanation is perfectly simple and scientific. It was because shut up. Shut up is why.

Badass to Manny: We smell of sweat and loss.

Badass: We’re getting married (platonically), bitches! 
Manny: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem.

Manny: Don’t worry, I have a permit. 
OG Bubba: ...This just says “I can do what I want”.

Clay: Quacking in my boobs over this 
Clay: QUAKING* 
Clay: BOOTS* FUCKER.

Manny: Anybody got any crayons so I can color in my Ph. D.?

Tusker: I only have 6 weeks left to live…
OG Bubba: Oh my god, really?! 
Tusker: It's just a guesstimate based on the choices I've made…

OG Bubba: You’re a loose cannon, Manny. 
Manny: No, I’m not. I’m a cannon, maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me? 
Tusker: I think you play by your own rules…
Clay: No way, they think rules were made to be broken. 
OG Bubba: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon. 
Manny: No, I’m just a reckless renegade. R! Bubba is a loose cannon. 
R! Bubba: *smashes a chair* Aah! You shut your trap, Clay! 
Clay: I’d say R! Bubba’s more of a cop on the edge with nothing to lose. That’s an entirely different thing. 
Tusker: Now I’m just confused… Is Manny a loose cannon or not?…
OG Bubba: All right, put on a pot of coffee. We’re gonna get to the bottom of this. 
Clay: *groans* 
R! Bubba: Aw, man.

Clay: :) 
Manny: >:( 
Clay: Turn that frown upside down! 
Manny: ):< 
Clay: Not sure what I was expecting...

Manny: God has let me live another day and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.

R! Bubba: What the fuck. 
R! Bubba: ESPN is showing 2003 national jump rope championship. 
R! Bubba: Who the hell watches jump rope competiti- ooh bouncy.

Clay, to S! Bubba: Are you peanuts? Because I want to boil you alive.

Clay: What starts with F and ends with Uck? 
Manny: No it doesn't. (completely fucking with them)
Dumba: Firetruck! 
Badass: FUCK!

Dumba, holding a kettle: Coffee or tea? 
Clay: Tea. 
Dumba: Wrong! It's coffee.

Badass: I really like Eminem. 
Dumba: I prefer skittles. 
Clay: They are talking about the rapper. 
Dumba: Why would they eat the wrapper?

OG Bubba: Badass, are you drinking… drinking hydrogen peroxide-?
Badass: It says H2O2! That means it’s the sequel to water!

OG Bubba: It's called cauliflower, not ghost broccoli. 
R! Bubba, eyes wide: I know what I saw.

Manny, to OG Bubba: If Badass doesn't say "I'm King of the world" within an hour on that boat, I will give you my next pay check. 
Badass, within 5 minutes of getting on the boat: I'M KING OF THE WORLD!!!

Dumba: We’re going to a candy store?! 
Clay: No! It’s nighttime, candy stores are closed. 
Badass: We’re gonna ROB a candy store?!?! 
Clay, sighing: No-

Tusker: I’m doing my best…
OG Bubba: You’re not doing anything. 
Tusker: Yes… that’s what I’m best at…

Badass: Why aren’t you sleeping?

Manny: I’m too busy plotting your murder to sleep, Badass.

Badass:

Manny:

Manny: ...The nightmares.

[thecapricunt1616]

The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 18

♡ Chapter Inspo: The Tortured Poets Department ; TS - 'I scratch your head, you fall asleep like a tattooed golden retriever. But you awaken with dread, pounding nails in your head, but i've read this one where you come undone - I chose this cyclone with you, and who's gonna hold you like me?'

♡ Summary: Winnie meets Donna for the first time, Carmy ends up needing an emergency therapy session.

♡ W/C: 8,071

♡ Posted Date: 04/22/24

♡ A/N: Eep here we are! 18 chapters and the plot is finally starting to thicken up! I'm enjoying where this story is going very much. I hope you all are too! When I heard the golden retriever line I was like - wait....Carmy and Winnie hahahah!!! I'm loving this new album V much - tried not to add too much Taylor-talk in here but it's CANON that Winnies a fan so it would be OOC for her to not be excited heheheh ♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Physical Violence, Alcoholism, Mentions of Police, Family domestic abuse, attempt to enable said behaviors, Sad Carmy

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯

Her shrill voice bounced off the walls, and quite frankly made my head hurt. I took a deep breath, clearing my throat and preparing for what was to come. I’d been apart of many screaming matches in my life since Id realized I could fight my mother back - so at minimum 15 years worth of defending myself against a raging narcissist.

“You don’t have to talk to her, my purse is just in there- I need it it has our house keys” I said so just we could hear. 

“Where is he! CARMEN ANTHONY. YOU WILL COME SPEAK TO ME I AM YOUR MOTHER!” she shouted. It was clear she was drunk by the way she was speaking and annunciating her words. 

“Baby go- go outside, I’m gonna deal with her” he said softly, his hands were shaking. 

“I’m not leaving you alone, bear. I promise, I’m not gonna add fuel” I said and took his hand, holding it in mine and squeezing gently. “I love you - and that means we do things together even when they’re hard” I whispered and he nodded, swallowing thickly. 

“Donna! Donna sweetheart we should step outside huh? Let’s go, let’s go outside, we'll have a cigarette. The babies are here, you don’t want them to hear this? No?” Jimmy told her, ushering her down the hall towards where we were in the dining room that contained the front door. 

When she saw him it was like everything stopped, I felt like I was trapped in a lions den, or a fucking bear cave more like it. “Who is this?” She said, just above a whisper and she looks at me, then our enclasped hands, then Carmen again. “Who the fuck is this, Carmen?” She questioned 

“Mom. Mom. Listen-“ I interrupt him because I’d never heard his voice sound so small and scared 

“Hi! I’m Winnie?” I said casually. “And- I assume you’re Donna? Right?” I gently rubbed the back of his hand with the pad of my thumb, it felt like I was trying to tame a mountain lion with a smile. 

“And what kind of fucking name is Winnie. What the hell is this- a goddamn cartoon? And why are you in my daughters house?” She asked and I maintained my cool, seeing as the whole family pretty much had silently crowded in the hall to watch this go down. 

“Oh-“ I cleared my throat, trying to maintain my cool and I held our hands up that were laced together “I’m well acquainted with your son.” I drop them back to our sides “he’s lovely. May I just say you did a wonderful job raising him.” I said and he squeezed my hand tightly 

“And I’m here to talk to said son alone. So you can take your cute little carrot top self back wherever you came from and fuck right off missy “ she snapped and I raised my brows, but before I could open my mouth Jimmy stepped in 

“Heyyy! Hey hey! Donna- Donna the girl hasn’t done anything wrong come on-“

“Oh shut up jimmy.” She seethed 

“MOM!” Carmen snapped, “I’m not fuckin’ doing this” he rose his voice so she could tell he was serious “I’m not. That was it- we’re done we’re leaving good fuckin job- I’m fucking leaving. Syd can you bring Winnie’s fuckin purse please?” He called to her and I saw her shoving through everyone gathered in the hallway to get back into the living room.

“Oh so you’re gonna choose this stupid girl over your own mother? What are you too good for your mother now? Is she- is she some hot shot chef? Oh- no let me guess- she’s a nurse since you messed things up with the Doctor, Claire?” She said and my mouth dropped 

“Actually-“ I scoff “I work at a library- your son is the ‘hot shot’ chef. The only one in your family might I add? Donna, you are speaking to everyone horribly right now. Why do you think he wouldn’t want to talk to you when you’re acting like-“ I see her jerk her arm and I am suddenly soaking wet, and my eyes are stinging worse than I’d ever felt in my life. I shrieked, wiping my face furiously and coughing, my lungs burning as the alcoholic drink that had been thrown in my face choked me from when I’d gasped in surprise and inhaled a gulp of it. 

“Oh- Donna!” Jimmy said “no- no now you gotta go dear, what’s wrong with you?” 

“Someone had to shut her up to stop that annoying little speech she was putting me to sleep” she laughed drunkenly 

“Mom what- WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?! ARE YOU? WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING OBSESSION RUINING EVERYTHING?! THIS IS WHY - THIS- THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T WANT TO SEE YOU- I CAN'T STAND YOU! I CANT FUCKING STAND YOU MOM” Carmy roars. 

“Oh my god you crazy bitch” Sadie said angrily. I couldn’t even see what was going on, everything was sticky and wet and it was driving me insane. I was still stuck in a coughing fit as I rubbed my eyes but the stinging was getting worse. The amount of overwhelmed, embarrassment, fear, anger I felt threw me headfirst into a panic attack. 

“What did she throw? Oh my god my contacts Sadie - I- I need to take out my contacts” I said gasping and coughing as I felt a hand on my arm guiding me to the kitchen 

“I know, I know, shhhh” she coaxed, bringing me over to the sink. “I’m gonna get them out but you have to do me a favor and stay still” she ordered, but I could barely fucking understand her with the pain. 

I began sobbing uncontrollably and she turned the sink on “I’m so sorry” I said and we heard crashing coming from the front room 

“What? What did she do?! MOM!!!” I heard Natalie shout “MOM THESE ARE BRAND FUCKING NEW CARPETS!! GET HER OUT!!!” She shrieked.

“YOUR FUCKING CARPETS? SHE JUST BLINDED MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND AND YOU GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE CARPETS, NAT?! THIS IS ON YOU, YOU’RE THE FUCKING REASON SHES HERE.” Carmy was in a rage. I’d never heard him so angry before.

“Everything e-everything I’m sticking-  i’m sticking oh my god Sadie. Everything stings, Sadie. Help me” I cried, “what did I even say why did she do that?” I sobbed, each time I tried to open my eyes I was faced with a searing pain. All of the screaming, the fear of his mother finding me and doing further damage for god knows why, the worry for Carmy and what was happening to him - it was all too much.

“CALL THE FUCKIN’ COPS THIS SHIT IS GETTIN’ TOO FUCKIN OUT OF HAND.” Richie shouted 

“I am alreadyyy on it- yup okay- let me just- I can’t hear them! I’m gonna go out there“ I heard Syd say awkwardly 

“Open” Sadie said and pried my left eye open, quickly scooping out the contact before doing the same with the right causing me to wince. She had to essentially trap me against the counter and wall so I wouldn't out of instinct slap and kick her for trying to dig in my fucking eyes with her fingers.

“Ok rinse” she said once she managed to get both of the contacts out. I dove for the sink, scrubbing my face over with water, rinsing out my eyes quickly and doing my best to hold them open under the running water despite the burning and uncomfortable stinging.

“G-get Carmen please, please” I said through shaky sobs. I hadn’t even been able to listen to what was going on since Sadie had scooped out my contacts, it was as if she and I were the only people in the house due to all the adrenaline from the pain coursing through my body allowing me to focus on the task at hand the fucking blinding pain.

“Yup ok. Okay I’ll find him” she said and I heard a sharp slap come from the other room

“MOM - MOM!! DID YOU REALLY JUST HIT HIM LIKE THAT! Oh, Carmy- Are you ok? Go- go out of here- go” Natalie shrieks at donna and there’s a loud smashing of glass 

“MY PLATES!!! MY PLATES!!!” Natalie shouts and starts to cry, “Jimmy! Jimmy those are my special china we got at our wedding!” She sobs “Mom! Why are you doing this?!” she pleaded

“That bitch is FUCKED up! What in the fuckin ghetto ass shit! Isn’t this the north side?!” Sadie said, causing Richie to laugh 

“Welcome to the fuckin Berzatto house my friend” he told her loudly over the chaos

“Natalie! Natalie - Honey- Uncle Jimmy will replace your plates, Come on honey we need to get her out I need your help grab her other arm!” I heard Jimmy tell her 

“Oh my god baby” I heard from behind me and Carmy rushed over, touching my back and I flinch.

“Don’t- don’t touch me I’m gonna have a panic response I can’t see- I don’t wanna hurt you” I said quickly, trying to even my breathing and stop crying so hard. “Please get my bag” I told him, continuing to rinse my eyes until the pain had subsided enough to open them. 

“Yeah- uh…yeah” he said and I heard him go into the living room. I felt around the counter until I found the paper towel, patting my face down with it to dry.  

When he came in, I took my glasses out of my purse, putting them on my face to see his cheek was unnaturally bright red- it looked so painful. There was a big raised mark with fanned out stripes from a handprint - she slapped him so hard it would bruise. 

Suddenly, my panic for myself melted away and I went in to protector mode, any worry or fear melted and reformed into concern for the sweet, damaged man before me. “Oh..Bear” I whispered, rushing to the freezer and getting a bag of frozen vegetables. “My poor love” 

I went over, gently pressing it to his cheek and he hissed in pain “yeah…” he said softly. “ it looks bad?” He asked

“I think she should go to jail. Either that or she agrees to go to rehab,” I said softly, gently thumbing out the wrinkle in his brow with my thumb. 

“She’s not gonna go to rehab” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling and swallowing hard. I could tell he was biting back tears, as was I, because this environment wasn’t safe to cry. 

“Then she goes to jail. Because this is gonna give you a black eye - and don’t you know how much I love your pretty face?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit and I kissed his good cheek. 

He cracked the slightest smile, “yeah she really got me. She’s never uh…well not since I was a kid but I don’t think she’s ever hit me with all her strength like that. I was scared for a second she broke my fuckin jaw” he said and I gently rub his shoulder 

“Baby really” I said softly. “Half of your face is gonna be bruised. She needs help” I said quietly. 

“But….she’d never forgive me” he said brokenly, averting my gaze. 

“Forgive you?! Oh bear. No, no my love. Carm, you should be thinking if you can ever forgive her. Not the other way around.” I gently rub his chest “lets go sit on the couch ok? We don’t want this rash to set and it’ll be so much worse. Cold compress should help the aching and the red and the swelling” I explained. He nodded a bit and took over holding the bag, going with me to the living room. 

“I want you on my lap” he said softly and I nodded, sitting down and wrapping my arm across his shoulders, holding the bag with my other hand against his cheek. 

“They’re fine- yeah- Winnie- how are your eyes?” Syd asked as she came in the living room talking on the phone 

“Okay Syd, thanks. It’s Carmy I’m worried about- is your ear ok bear?” I asked him 

“Still ringing” he mumbled, resting his other cheek on my chest and shutting his eyes. 

“He says his ear is ringing. I’m gonna have him checked out tomorrow” I told her and she nods

“Do you…wanna press charges?” She asked and I shrug 

“Tell them well know when they get here based on her behavior and if she’s being remorseful,” I said and she nodded, heading back to the front room. 

“Oh my god- oh god. Carmy - Carmy I’m so sorry” Natalie said, rushing in and sitting next to us, “Winnie- Winnie I’m so sorry please forgive me I promise. I told her she has to go to rehab I told her she has to go or she can’t come here anymore-“ I cut her off 

“Natalie…” I said softly. “If she doesn’t agree to be checked into an emergency rehab center- tonight? She is going to jail. Tonight. I will make sure of it. So if you don’t want her to go to jail, I would go talk her into rehab. There is nothing you have to be sorry to us for, lovey. If anything- apologize to Pete? Apologize to your daughters. But not us. Because Carmen has been saying for at least 2 months he no longer wants to interact with her, and the only time he has to is when you push him to do so. I love you, it’s why I’m telling you this. And I appreciate the roll you have in Carmys life and all you do for him- but you are enabling her. And it’s hurting the family. No matter what happens after tonight- this is the last time either of us will see her unless we’re shown definite proof she is sober.” I explained.

 Carmen just sat silently, his other cheek flush against my chest with his eyes closed, likely pretending to not be here. He didn’t have the mental strength to stick up to her like this right now, nor did he have the emotional capacity to do it gently. So I was stepping up to take the load for him. 

  “Okay…” she nodded “okay.” She repeated and went back out to the front yard where Jimmy had wrangled Donna off to wait for the cops.  “I love you” he muttered into my shirt, and he sounded utterly defeated.

Donna had chosen rehab- reluctantly. It wasn’t without a huge fight between her, Carmy, and Natalie, with many tears from each side being shed. 

When we finally got home, we wordlessly stripped out of our clothes, I started the shower for us and he got our towels for us and set out our night time lavender lotion we shared on top of the counter. I put the towels in the warmer Carmy had bought for us, since he said it ‘was too much an effort for me to put them in the dryer while we shower, and the floor out there was so cold, and he dripped all over while going to get them’ so the $200 purchase was well worth it to him.  

We had a silent shower, but it was not any less intimate then any of our other shared showers. We still washed each other, we still gently brushed eachothers wet strands of hair off of the others forehead. I had to swallow a lump in my throat each time my gaze met the raised bumps on his swollen red cheek. 

I wasn’t sure how I was going to get through the next few weeks until he healed. I’d much rather her had slapped me. I could hardly imagine what he was going through inside his head right now. I had to actually remove myself and go throw up when I heard him crying, begging her to listen to Sugar and just go with her to rehab- or he would have to tell the cops to take her. 

Apparently, she went through the typical stages of grief an addict goes through when realizing they’ve been backed into a corner and are no longer able to make the choice to keep using for themself. She had started by telling them the classic

‘I know- I know I’ve done some messed up things- I know I’ve hurt you kids! But I’m your mother- you really are gonna send your mother to jail? Hmm? Carmy? My littlest bear. You’d send your mama away? I don’t believe that, Carmen. Oh Carmen Anthony. My sweetest boy. Don’t you  let your sister control the situation- you don’t want this sweetheart you don’t want to do this to your mother’ 

And when Carmen simply told her ‘no- I’m with Sug, mom you need rehab- this can’t keep goin’ ’ she flew off the handle once more, screaming at him, Sugar and the police - telling them that they were crazy- that all of them were lying about her, and that she didn’t even have a problem at all. That her ingrate horrible leech children- the ones that she had left at least, had planned for her to be taken away and locked up because they hate her- for why? She couldn’t give an answer to that in her drunken state. 

For the last part of her Oscar worthy performance - She wailed, she screamed, she cursed Carmen and told him he was a mistake- that together he and Natalie had ruined her life. That she ‘knew she should have stopped at Michael.’ That they drove their father away together, drove her to drink, and then drove their brother to do what he did. That they took everything from her. That her very pregnancy’s and births with them were pure hell- as if she was birthing demons and that she’d been miserable since the day Natalie had been born, and that it hadn’t stopped. And not without telling Carmen he made things all the more worse. 

In her vicious words, as told to me by Syd while Carmen comforted Natalie in the laundry room as she sobbed so hard she could barely breathe - the last thing Donna said after finding out Carmy would be the one paying for her treatment - while she being put in Pete’s car so he could drop her off was; 

“Your father couldn’t handle your social deficits anymore- so he left us. that’s what really happened you drove your father away from your brother and sister. You’re the reason the family is the way it is.” 

After Syd told me, I sobbed so hard I threw up again. 

The look on Carmen’s face when he came to collect me in the living room to leave after tending to Natalie and getting her to bed was nothing short of haunted. 

The drive back, likely goes without saying- was silent. 

Carmy cut off the water after he finished delicately rinsing my hair, opening the curtain and grabbing my towel first, wrapping it around my body. 

“Thanks.” I muttered, squeezing the water from my hair before drying my body off and stepping out. 

He hummed in response. The rest of the evening was that- silent. It was almost a shell shock kind of silent. I felt insane guilt, so much so that silent hot tears rolled down my cheeks as we laid in the dark, trying our best to get some sleep. 

“I- I know we said goodnight already” I sniffle, my voice hoarse and raw from crying. “I’ll shut up after this- I just had to tell you I’m sorry. I’m so so fucking sorry Bear. I’ll listen to you from here on. I’m sorry- It- it was so stupid it was my fault- you know your family better than anyone I was so dumb to push you and to ask to stay. I think back on it and I realize why you got upset when I asked on the porch- but hindsight is always 20/20. I got you hurt. I hurt you and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. You know I never would intentionally hurt you…right? And it feels like- like I did this to you” I said, gently rubbing his arm. 

He sat up, flicking on the lamp on his side. “It’s my mom.” He said, wiping my tears. “Please. Baby. Please. I- I can’t be away from you tonight- but if I start gettin’ worked up again- I’m not gonna be able t’sleep here. Please. Princess,  Honey - I love you. I fucking love you. Is that what you need? I need you to be okay right now baby- at least not cryin’. I’m hangin’ on-“ he took a shaking breath “I’m hangin by a thread. I already texted Jazz” he whispered, rubbing his face over to rid any building tears. 

I swallowed thickly “I love you, Ok. Ok I’m done, I just had to tell you how sorry I am…” I said, quickly shoving all my emotions into a too small box and locking the bulging lid. He needs me right now. 

“Here, you’ll be little tonight. Turn off the light” I said, laying flat and opening my arms for him. 

He shut off the light, nuzzling his face into my neck, pulling me close as he possibly could. With a featherlight touch, I brush his hair off his forehead so it doesn’t tickle my mouth, gently dragging my nails across his scalp. “Thank you” he muttered.

He shivered a bit, his breath hitching slightly before he melted into me, sighing deeply. “I love you, so much, Carmen. Wholeheartedly. As sure as I am the sun will come up tomorrow, that’s how sure I am I love you. With every cell of my being. And I want you to know that it’s okay to be hurting. It’s okay to show you’re hurting, bear. You’re safe” I said quietly, before kissing his forehead tenderly. 

He remained silent, fingers gently moving along the skin of my back. I continued gently scratching his scalp, rubbing his back in long soothing strokes, the only sound in the room being our breathing and my noise machine. It remained that way for about 20 minutes, before he started softly shaking with silent sobs, holding me tighter and sniffling every so often. 

It went on like this for quite a while. My neck was soaking wet, so was my pillow he was nuzzled on- I didn’t care. I could flip it over. The itch of tear droplets gliding down my skin was only temporary. What he needed right now, was to be held. And to be loved. So that is what I’d give him, without any stipulation, or question, or expecting him to offer any answers. 

“You didn’t deserve it. Any of it. Remember that, ok? I know it hurts. You deserved a good mother, Carm. We both did.” I said softly, kissing the side of his head. 

He nodded gently, tightening his grip on me. “My fucking face hurts again. Like a bitch” he whimpered sadly. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat that formed at the sound of his wet tear filled voice “Give me a second Bear, I’ll be right back yeah? You’re getting too hot, It’s worse cause you're getting all warm and its makin’ the blood rush to your face and it’s throbbing. Cold will help it feel better, let me help you sweets” He wordlessly let me up and I quickly padded out to the freezer. 

Persephone meows, twirling around my legs for attention. “Hey you” I sniffled, tears brimming my eyes without an ability to stop them. I crouched down to pet her and blinked the blurry haze away, the offending tears rolling down my cheeks and dripping in 2 thick droplets onto the floor. 

“Carmy is sad right now, ok? Can you come give us your sweet Sephy snuggles and make him feel better? I know you can make him giggle silly girl” I wiped my face with his white shirt, shaking my head and trying to get ahold of myself.  

“Mama can do this, kittens. I can do it” I told myself, standing up again and momentarily resting the ice pack on each of my puffy eyes before blowing my nose with a tissue and heading back. 

“Hi sweet boy” I said softly, carefully getting back in bed and laying with him. 

“Hey” he sniffled.

I opened my arm for him “Here, we can both be cold” I joked. Resting the ice pack where he usually laid on my chest and patting it. “This will make it feel so much better, Bear” I assured him. 

“Thank you” he said, gently resting his cheek and closing his eyes. He was hiccuping and doing one of those post-sob sniffles every so often, as I resumed petting his hair. 

“Everything happens for a reason, Bear. And I’m really grateful I’m able to tell you I love you, tonight. I love you, and I’m here- I’ll always be here” I said softly and kissed his forehead with a gentle peck.  “You too…” He whispered, and that was the last thing either of us said that night.

The next morning naturally due to the stress I woke up extra early. Well- shamefully half because of the stress. Half because Sadie was coming over for coffee and we were gonna do our usual Taylor album release antics.

I grabbed my phone carefully, seeing that Sadie had sent me twenty seven texts since midnight. The last one being 

THAT CRAZY BITCH!! SHES RELEASING A PT 2. 31 FUCKIN SONGS WIN!!

I gasp quietly, ever so gently untucking Carm’s arm around me and getting up carefully. I picked up Seph who was comfy laying on his hip, squeaking in protest. 

I shush her, kissing her nose and carrying her to the kitchen. “Queen put a new album out fluffabutt!!” I whispered, taking out 2 coffee mugs. 

I grabbed my phone, FaceTiming Sadie “oh! Perfect! I’m at Starbucks what are you feeling?” She asked and I opened the cabinet, putting away the 2 glass mugs. 

“Can I have a large like- triple shot added americano? With extra oatmilk - vanilla and cold foam, iced?” I said and she laughed 

“Jesus Christ ok I’ll be ready to do CPR I guess” she joked. 

“Yup, Carm and I had a late night, shall I spare you the details?” I joked and she snorted, pulling up to the drive through. 

“Please- I don’t have to hear it twice.” She paused to put in our order “what does he like?” She asked

“Oh- black with sugar. He’s a weirdo. Thank you- I’ll cashapp you” I told her and she relayed it to the person working the line 

“Don’t worry about it- I’ll be there soon Kay?” She asked and I smiled a bit and nod 

“Sounds good. Love ya drive safe!” I told her 

“Love you!” She replied as I hung up. 

I heard stirring in the bathroom and the toilet flushed, so I headed back over to the bedroom just as Carm lays back down on his side of the bed.

“G’morning lovey” I said softly

“Hey- whats’up why’ya outta bed?” He yawned. My heart ached slightly at the sight of his puffy eyes and red nose from crying so long last night, but mostly the reddening on his cheek.

“Uh- it’s Taylor day- Sadie was coming over but we’re gonna get outta here so you don’t have to listen to us, don’worry” I sit down on my side of the bed. 

“Why?” He asked, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me to him. 

“We don’t wanna bug you…” I shrugged a bit. My past boyfriends would sometimes get annoyed about my passion for music- especially Taylor, and Sadie was just as loud and enthusiastic as I was- and especially due to the previous nights events. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d be feeling snappier then usua & didn’t want to deal with our squealing and excited antics. 

“Why’d you bein’ happy bug me, honey?” He said softly, resting his head on my lap and looking up at me. 

I shrugged, gently playing with his hair. “I dunno… I guess if it’s ok we’ll stay, we’ll make sure t’be quiet cause you need your sleep baby your eyes are exhausted” I said softly, gently running my thumb over the bags under his eyes with my other hand. He sighed contently nuzzling his face in my stomach. 

“Sounds good t’me…Can I ask you somethin’ and you won’t laugh?” He asked, eyes still closed. 

“I’d never laugh at you, baby. Well- except that one time you thought rupaul were 2 different people.” I teased with a giggle and he snorts a laugh 

“Stop it I’m serious. Did that all….really happen? Last night?” He asked and I gently bit my lip. 

“I love you, and your mom is getting help. If that’s what you mean” I said, trying to lead with the good and put the bad as gently as I possibly could. 

He sighed softly “mmhmm.” he muttered, remaining quiet for a little bit. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he didn’t want to speak any more about it. Considering last night was the first time i’d met his mother- he was likely feeling embarrassed knowing him (which he shouldn’t be) but nonetheless- nothing I could say would remove that shame from him. The shame of being the child of an unhealed alcoholic was a wound that no one or nothing could heal unless she got the help she needed.

“Wait don’t we gotta go get the album or whatever baby? From Target yea?” He peeked up at me. My heart swelled at the fact he remembered that I told him about the little process Sadie and I had when Taylor would release an album. We didn’t go as far as to having a huge party and staying up until midnight how we used to, but we’d both take the day off work & get starbucks before going to target and buying the Vinyl & CD & listening it in her car together while we do a mini road trip and get lunch.

When I’d told him about it- he said it was ‘really sweet’ and that it seemed like a great time, I told him it was and jokingly invited him expecting him to pass- but surprisingly he agreed, & told me he likes hanging out with Sadie and I because we were ‘funny’ which just made me fall in love with him all the more that he enjoys my best friends company how I do.

I shook my head a bit “No carmy. We can just relax- we had a hard night. It can just wait you’re more important” I said gently and he sat up a bit, furrowing his brows slightly.

“No- no, I have therapy at 2 we got time you’ve been wantin’ this baby. I wanna see too what it’s about. All the letters and stuff? Mm? It’ll be fun right?” He rubbed my arm gently. I had been telling him all about the letters Taylor had been posting on her social media in preparation for the album. I  never expected him to be actually listening since I was just rambling on and I know he doesn’t listen to music so I thought he was just letting me go on because he cares about me.

“You really…you really care?” I asked, astonished he would even humor me by tolerating my interests- let alone actually asking questions about them and wanting to learn and participate in them the same way I’d ask him about cooking. 

“What? Yes. Yes, honey, I love listenin’ t’you talk about this stuff. Y’fuckin light up when you do. How could I not like it if it makes you happy?” He asked and I felt tears welling up behind my eyes. 

I hugged him tightly, nuzzling my face in his neck and he wrapped me in a bear hug, laying back on the mattress as I curl myself around him. “Y’think I don’t realize when y’tell me things you’re lookin’ forward to babe?” He asked gently and rubs my back soothingly. 

“I love you. So much” I whispered, blinking away hot stinging tears. “Nd you give such good hugs” I giggled, smiling when I feel him chuckle against me. 

“So you’ve told me” he kissed my temple “Now tell me princess, how do we do this? You said it’s a process hm?” He asked and I smiled big, sitting back and looking at him with my arms wrapped around his neck loosely. 

I knew he wasn’t a particular fan of hers, Carmy wasn’t really a fan of anything. He barely listened to music on his own, but because I listened to music near constantly - he’d gotten well adjusted to something always playing, and it was usually her. He would make it a point to say “ I do really like this one honey what’s it about?” When he’d heard ones he liked while cooking dinner or breakfast for us and of course I’d happily oblige. 

“Uh..” my cheeks heat as he kissed down my jaw and neck “so - we usually listen to the first single separately…” my breath hitches as he stops at my collarbones, tugging the collar of his shirt down over my shoulder easily and biting down gently on the fleshy part. He hummed as if to say ‘go on’ 

“That- would um..be the first track so. Yeah and then we listen to the rest together but like slow- we relisten to the songs over and over, it’s weird” I said, losing my train of thought as he kissed the top of my breast, sucking lightly before pulling away and looking up at me.

“Put it on then mm?” he rested his chin in the hill of my breasts looking up at me with those big blue puppy eyes of his. 

“I’m gonna tell you a lot today but I love you and you’re the best” I kissed his forehead gently and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. 

He smiled a bit, blush creeping across his cheeks. “So since im the best…does that mean we can fool around before Sadie gets here?” he sucked on my neck gently and I scratch his hair gently as I one handedly checked her location. 

“She’s 7 minutes away don’t think so especially since she has a key” I connect my phone to my bluetooth speaker. 

“Mmm” he huffs brattily,  leaning into my touch and closing his eyes.

“Ok, it’s been less then 24 hours, you little pervert- this one’s called Fortnight, A Fortnight if you don’t know is a period of 2 weeks. If you can remember the name of one song from this album before we go to bed I’ll do whatever you want any position at all” I smirked and he looked up at me quickly, like a puppy being asked if they’d like to go on a walk. 

“The mating press one?” he asked and I roll my eyes playfully with a smirk.

“Yes you horny fucker. Now shhh” I kissed his lips gently as I hit play on the song so he couldn’t ask any more questions.

He hummed happily and cupped my cheek with his calloused hand, rubbing his thumb over my cheek sweetly. When he pulled away he said, “The beat is cool” which made me smile big and pull him into another sweet kiss, gently rubbing over the back of his neck.

I gently rested my head on his shoulder as I listened and he snorted a laugh at the line ‘Your wife waters flowers, I want to kill her.’ “She’s so honest about her feelings, it’s refreshing” he mutters and I giggle a bit.

“Well yeah- if I lost you and then you went off and dated someone else and got married and we ended up being neighbors? If you didn’t move i’d fantasize about killing that bitch every day” I laced our fingers together.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Marriage would be completely off the table if you left me, so it’d never happen” He said and I blushed pink, squeezing his hand gently. 

“I’d never leave you, Bear. Ever, you know that. Here let me see hows your cheek baby?” I gently turn his face and bit my lip at the fanned out pink and deep red marks as well as a blotch in the middle of his cheek. 

“Yeah I look fuckin…horrible” he cleared his throat, looking away from my gaze. I shook my head quickly

“Baby-” I swallowed thickly, trying to hold back my tears and maintain an even normal voice. He hated when I cried, it always made him so upset, so the last thing I needed was to make him hurt more then he already was right now. “It looks fine.” I lied “I meant are you hurting? Can I get you some tylenol or something? Want me to ice it for you?” I asked and barely even brushed my finger over it and he winced.

“Ah- don’t” he hissed and I frowned. 

“I’m gonna go get an ice pack love” I got up and went to the freezer. The way he wasn’t fighting on me, meant it really was hurting him- but Carmy is Carmy and wasn’t ever going to complain. But it still bothered me how he would just sit there in pain & not say anything about it so I could take care of him.

I came back to bed with the icepack and gently held it to his face and he sighed in relief. “Thank you angel” He said softly. I paused the song before it could start the next one without Sadie here and kissed his forehead. 

“Of course sweets, I’m gonna get dressed mm?” I said and he hummed in agreement, taking the icepack and holding it to himself, laying back on the bed and sighing softly to himself. 

“So do you have a special Taylor outfit too baby?” he asked as I opened my closet. I smiled a bit, looking through it.

“Kinda- I’m gonna wear my Folklore cardigan” I took it out and tossed it on the bed and he looks at it carefully, dragging his finger over the embroidered stars “Cause that’s what Sadie’s wearin’ so were gonna match” I said and speak of the devil, I heard the door open.

“In here! He’s already up, Oh my god!! ‘My husbands cheating I wanna kill him?!’ Bitch this albums gonna be insane” I called out to herand she came to the bedroom, baring a tray of coffees.

“Stop it’s been on repeat since last night for me, It’s so good!! Hey Carm” she greeted him and goes over, setting the tray on the nightstand and handing him the only hot coffee in the tray.

“Oh-Uh, thanks…” He said shyly. He still hadn’t been able to be out of his shell fully unless it was just us, but he was slowly getting there. His eyes slightly widen as I started stripping and putting on a fresh pair of panties and a bra while Sadie and I continued casually talking.

“Oh the first part about being sent away- literally us” I said causing us both to laugh as I hit play on the song again. 

“First thing I thought when I heard it, oh are we twinning?! Cuutee!!” She said excitedly with a smile.

“So…you just look at eachothers tits?” Carm asked bluntly and Sadie and I both laugh.

“No- weirdo- shes just changing i’m not staring at her. You don’t change in front of your dude friends?” she asked and he shook his head.

“You’ve never changed in front of other dudes?” she asked to which he shook his head again lightly as he held the icepack to his cheek.

“He didn’t play any sports bug” I told her as I jumped and wiggled into my jeans before buttoning them. 

“Ahhh- ok. That tracks, when did you graduate?” she asked him.

“High- High School? Er…” he asked, looking at me nervously before looking back at her. If she’d been a stranger I’d willingly save him from the discomfort of being asked about himself - but it’s healthy for him to branch out and talk to people since he refused to do it himself, and Sadie was more then safe for him to try that with.

“Yeah! I went to Gage Park and graduated in 2012 - same year as Win” she nodded 

“Oh- uh..no I um… I went to Foreman and graduated in 2011” he replied and took a sip of his coffee. “How’d you know?” he motioned to the cup and she shrugged with a smile

“If I said i’m a coffee psychic i’m not sure you’d believe me, your lovely pooh bear has your order memorized,” she said and I rolled my eyes, putting on my deodorant with a small smile.

 “It’d be more impressive if he remembered my order since his is literally just sugar” I said and Sadie grabbed my cup from the nightstand, covering the sticker.

“Boyfriend test! What’s her coffee order?” she teased him and I looked over at him raising my eyebrows playfully.

“Here’s your real test of love” I joked, slipping my cardigan on and grabbing my hairbrush, beginning to detangle my rats nest from not tying it up before I went to sleep. 

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Iced americano, with shots in it depending on how tired she is- and then add vanilla, and extra light with the oatmilk shit, and extra of the cold foam stuff on the top - and cinnamon” he said and Sadie raised her eyebrows in surprise, looking over at me.

“Trained ‘em well” she said and I laughed, pausing my hairbrushing to come give him a well deserved kiss.

“Do I love you yet?” he joked and I giggle, pinching his bicep playfully. 

“Remembered the cinnamon huh?” I kiss the tip of his nose and he pats my bum gently. 

“Yes- can we please turn on the next song now? We’ve heard it 50 times now babe” He asked and I laugh a bit. 

“More like less then 10, but ok lover because I don’t want you sick of us just yet” I hit skip to start playing the next song which was the title track as I sat at my vanity and finished brushing my hair. Sadie came up and put my coffee on the vanity for me, going over to my perfumes and smelling various ones as we listened. 

Came the part of the song where the lyrics were ‘I scratch your head, you fall asleep - like a tattooed golden retriever’ and Sadie and I stared at eachother for a moment before looking at Carmen, then back to eachother and cracking up. She had witnessed many times now when we’d have little dinner party’s with he and Syd when they insisted on cooking for us and showing us a new recipe, he’d work himself so hard that sitting on the couch after everything had been cleaned up when I was gently playing with his hair he’d fall asleep in my lap and miss them leaving. 

“Hey- What! What’s funny?” he asked, not even realizing the lyrics we were laughing at, not having been paying attention like we were and he puts his coffee down. “Tell me! Tell me what did I do?” He whined a bit with a slight pout, how he usually did when he realized he’d missed a joke and I laughed at his adorable childlike tiny tantrum.

“Nothin’ - Taylor had a little tattooed golden retriever too I guess” I shrugged and he put the icepack down, confused. 

“Hell’s that mean?” he asked and came over to me, watching as I put on my eyeliner. 

“It means you’re cute and have nice energy, baby” I said before resuming to carefully draw a sharp wing.

“Mm” he grumbled how he did when he didn’t understand me but was just deciding to let it go. “How long will this take? I wanted you t’try that sauce i’m makin’ when we get back” he kissed the top of my head lightly as I paused to shake the pen so more ink would go to the tip.

“Not long, Bear. We’ll be back with plenty of time to try your sauce, yeah? Go shower baby” I said, leaning into the mirror as I start my other eye. 

“Kay…y’look pretty” he said softly and rested his hand on the desk, leaning. I smiled a bit 

“Thank you, you’re hovering, lovey. Did you want a kiss?” I puckered my lips and his cheeks redden in response as he leans down and kisses my lips. 

“Thank you” he muttered 

“Baby you can ask me for loves when Sadies here, shes not gonna judge you” I assured him and she looks up from her phone.

“What?” she replied, clearly not having paid attention. 

“See” I assure him and rub his chest just above his belly gently. “Make sure you dont let your face hit the hot water ok lovey?” I ask and he nodded a bit. It was more than clear that last nights events were causing him to be much clingier and wanting of physical touch which was more then normal after something like that, especially for him. The last time he’d had a big blowout fight with his mom, he’d not even wanted me to go to the bathroom alone - his mind was absolutely a prison in times like this, and me being near made it easier to manage. 

“Mm i’ll be careful” he said and went to the bathroom, shutting the door since Sadie was here and preoccupying Sephy so she wouldn’t feel the need to go and scratch.

“So…How was like- after” Sadie asked when she heard the water start. I cleared my throat, nervously stretching my back and shaking my eyeliner pen some more. 

“Not much. He’s not a talker, made sure he knew I was here. He cried a little, it’s better then nothing. He’s seeing his therapist.” I told her and she nods a bit, looking at me in the mirror. 

“His sister was a mess too, like- her husband had to drop her kids off at his parents house so they wouldnt see the rest of it. She kinda bitched me out when I opened the laundry room by mistake, Syd said she didn’t mean it, though” she picked at her nails nervously.

“She didn’t, Sadie. Natalie really is one of the nicest people. His family is just…” I sighed. “She said it was like this before their brother, but- now its like…no love left. Like he was the main string that tied the family all together and now that he’s gone- it’s impossible to be together. My therapist says that a tragedy like that either breaks a family or brings them closer together- Chris broke mine too, so I don’t blame them. I wasn’t strong enough - er…my family wasn’t strong enough, either.” I explained and she shook her head.

“No way, Win. You’re so strong, and so, so smart. It wasn’t your job- it was your familys job.” She said and I sighed softly, finishing up my eyeliner. I wanted to believe her - but something in me couldn’t help but feel weak at the fact I had no family left that bothered to speak to me other then my Grandma, and I had Carmy and his family right in front of me in dire need of help and I’m not even the one hurting this time- and I still cant save him from them. 

I’m pulled from my thoughts by Carm’s phone ringing - “Hand it please” I requested since Sadie was laying on my side of the bed, she leaned over and grabbed the phone before reaching out to me and handing it over. 

Natalie's name flashed on the screen and I slid it, to answer putting the phone to my ear.  “Carmy? Mom had a seizure last night apparently- uh…they’re saying she has some…some- disease from drinking? Please- how fast can you get here? I really don’t wanna do this by myself…”

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

[eitaababe]

˗ˏˋ WON'T HAVE YOU ! ´ˎ˗

din djarin x reader.

this is 100% self indulgent LMAO, based off of kanej from six of crows :) (maybe ooc mando?? it's my first time writing for him lol it might be iffy)

warnings — mentions of blood / injuries, shooting, typical star wars fights

─── ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ───

You sat on Din's cot in the Razor Crest, desperately trying to get the whining green baby to sleep. Mando was off, collecting another bounty for credits whilst you were left here babysitting. It was part of the deal, after all.

He took you in for protection, and you would prove yourself useful.

Din had found you on one of his hunts for a bounty— well, more like you had found him.

You were being held captive by the very man he was after, and when you ran into the Mandalorian you quickly made an alliance with him, leading him straight to the bounty.

You told Mando little of your past, and he knew better than to push. What he did know, was that you needed out and could be a valuable assest, showing your expertise in mechanics and skilled fighting.

You would almost, dare say, consider the new arrangement, safe for you.

Which was new from what you'd ever known, always trapped and having to report back to the same place all your life. Without knowing if you had a real family out there or not, without knowing how much more of your life you'd have to live.

So yeah, you could get pretty used to this.

A sound of the hatch opening caught your attention, meeting the familiar beskar helmet. You were silent for a moment, trying to hide your excitement at his return when you noticed his limp.

"What happened?" You asked, setting Grogu down carefully and rushing to help him.

"Bounty." Came a curt response, and you couldn't say you were shocked at his cold demeanor.

You almost rolled your eyes in the vagueness of his answer, "Very descriptive, Mando."

No response.

Huffing, you grabbed a kit, handing it over to him.

"Thank you." Was his only response as he tried his best to walk normally over to a nearby table, opening up the kit.

Watching silently as he removed some of his armor (never the helmet, you came to learn), you saw him slightly lift the cloth worn underneath, a wound on the back of his torso. He hissed as he reached back, struggling to clean off the blood.

"Let me help you," you finally spoke up, being met with the stubborn look that you were somehow able to understand underneath his helmet. "Din."

At the call of his name he finally complied, handing over the clumped up rag, turning around.

With shaky breaths you dabbed the cloth in water, hoping to clean the wound up a bit before applying any bacta.

You moved slow, hesitant towards his bare side, the rag finally making contact with him. He jumped at the touch, clearly holding back any noises of pain. "Sorry," you mumbled, retracting your hand away for just a second. "But I have to clean it up before I can put any bacta on."

Finally being able to focus on the task at hand, but still moving carefully, you cleaned it up the best you could, setting the dirty towel aside and spraying bacta on the wound, practically wincing with Din anytime he jolted suddenly.

"Finished." You called out, and only when he turned, helmet almost meeting your face, then did you realize just how close the two of you really were.

"Thank you. Again." He breathed quietly, also aware of the close proximity. Neither of you daring to break away, you bath sat silently on stools, and for a moment, you swear you saw him lean just forward, his hand twitching to meet yours.

You find yourself caught in whatever trance this was, heart beating rapidly—

When the cooing of Grogu on the floor snaps you back.

"I should, um," you stumbled across your words, clumsily standing to grab the little one. "Take him. You should probably wrap that. So it doesn't get infected, or anything."

Only nodding in response, the Mandalorian stayed and watched as you walked further and further away from him, out of reach.

Once again.

─── ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ───

You go weeks without addressing anything of the situation.

You tagged along with Mando in the next bounty hunt, leaving the ship and Grogu in Peli's hands as you stopped at Tatooine.

The mission consisted of someone who was associated with the man who once held custody of you— who on a technicality, still did. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't terrified of the chance of you having to go back to that life once more, but found solace in the fact he was captured previously.

You and Din split up, figuring secrecy was best suited for this mission. Stealth was always your forte, and clearly not his. He stood out too much with the armor, of course.

So you two went separate routes to the coordinates, as you took to the rooftops and Mando by streets. You'd kept him in your line of sight for the most part, seeing him successfully locate his way.

"I'm here." You quietly called to the comms, standing on top of the roof of the supposed building.

"Going in." He replied as you watched him head into the building, you looking for a nearby latch or window to sneak in through.

Your plans were cut short, however, when a bullet hits you in the arm.

"Fuck!" You cried out, crawling over to hide behind a large chimney. The shots fired towards the bricks, debris flying. You pulled out your gun, shooting from over your shoulder, taking the sniper out. "Mando! I've been compromised!" Not bothering to listen for a response you peeked in the direction of the (now dead) shooter.

You quickly learned that there were more than one, though, when more shots were fired from a different direction. You ripped off a piece of your sleeve and wrapped it around your arm for good measure on the bullet wound, and dropped from the rooftop to behind the building, shielding yourself from sight.

"Where is she?"

"I don't see her!"

You put your gun back in its pouch, opting for a knife. You followed the voices, locating them and lurking behind before taking them out, trying to find a way inside the cantina Din went inside when you were tazed, groaning in pain as you fell to the ground.

"Did you really think you would get away so easily, little bird?"

Your heart sunk to your stomach at the familiar voice, looking up to see the very face you hoped you wouldn't.

"Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, and you were paralyzed, unable to move as he stood over you. "I won't let you get away, not this time. You'll never—"

A simple three shots ended his rant.

"Y/n!"

Your head whipped around to meet the Mandalorian, bending over to check on you. "What happened?"

Almost too much was going on for you to process, you didn't even realize the beads of tears that ran down your cheeks. Too much that you didn't realize how the Mandalorian, the very same, stoic one who mostly only spoke to either Grogu or to say thank you, the very same one who never let you get too close for comfort, was on his knees. For you.

"I'm- I-" you breathed, the floodgates rushing open. You silently leaned into his chest, and for once, Din didn't push you away.

"Let's just get you back to the Crest, alright?"

─── ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ───

After a brief explanation and some calming down, Peli left you and Mando in the newly fixed Crest, still keeping Grogu inside, both of you insisting not to wake him from his nap yet.

Still shocked, you sat down silently, doing nothing but staring at a wall. You were so numb that you didn't even notice Din taking out the kit, tending to your wound as you did his not too long ago. For once, the closeness didn't affect you whatsoever, the same voice repeating itself in your head over and over again.

"You won't get away this time."

You succumb to the thoughts of your head, still scared, despite knowing he was gone and who was beside you.

"Hey," Din's voice called out to you, your glossy eyes snapping over to meet his helmet. "He's gone now. You don't answer to him anymore. He's gone and he doesn't own you. You're free."

The words you waited to hear all your life don't feel as good as you thought they would.

Freedom was something you once thought was unattainable, something you dreamt of. But now that you have it?

It almost feels just as horrifying.

"You can do anything you've ever wanted to do," Din continued. "You can leave. Be free of this place, go wherever."

"I could leave?" You inquired. The thought of what you'd do now that you have a life that's your own and only yours has crossed your mind just a few times, and not in many of those thoughts have you thought about leaving Din and Grogu.

But would it be for the better?

You contemplate your decisions, would they even want you to stay? They were doing just fine on their own before you even arrived, they clearly would be just fine if you left. Figuring it was an invitation to leave you wordlessly get up, turning your back to him.

"You could also stay."

Four simple words make you stop in your tracks, and cowardly, you don't look back at him. "And why should I?"

"Because I want you to," He speaks, and after all this time, only now are you able to detect the emotion in his voice. You turn around to the beskar covered man, never seeing him look so small. "For him. For us."

For a moment you think he's talking about both himself and Grogu, but you understand that when he says us, he means you and him. And it should be heartwarming, it should make you want to jump into his arms and accept, but it only makes you angry.

"Us?" You repeat, and in a tone that chills him to his core. "There is no us, Din."

He's pleading now, and if only you could see his expression under the mask. "Please."

"And if I stay?" You push, walking slowly towards him. "How will I have you?"

"All of me."

You only shake your head, knowing it wasn't possible. "All of you, with a full armor of beskar every night. All of you, with short and meaningless conversations. All of you, with gloves on and hands I'll never get to truly hold. All of you, with lips that will never touch and a face I'll never see."

"My creed-"

"This isn't about your creed, Din Djarin," you practically whisper, scared if you talk any louder your voice will crack. And Din knows, Maker he does, that this isn't about his creed. It isn't about the armor that he's wearing but about the armor he puts up, about the space that he's put between you two and what he guards his heart with.

"If you think for a moment that this is about what you wear," you pause, and Din has never wanted you to see his expression underneath his helmet more than his does in this moment. "Then you really don't know me at all. If I cannot have you, truly have you, without the armor," you press against his chest plate with a light hand, and stuck in place, he doesn't give into the instinct to hold it.

"Then I won't have you at all."

─── ⭐️.

[s4mu-k41d3n]

“𝐁𝐔𝐖𝐀𝐍”

by juan karlos

TYPE 2 <> YAN!CHUUYA X GN!READER〰️sypnosis: he’s a lunatic for you. you, only you under the glamour of the yellow moon, under the white light that flicks each breezing step he took, so just only he will love you, yet did you hear his screams? your beauty, reaching the moon lurking at the dark soaring above.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 〰️disclaimer: obsessive behavior, stalking, violence, blood, mentions of guns, stalking, bad writing, ooc!chuuya?, sexual themes, not proofread.

౨ৎ₊ ⊹ 〰️notes: I still like have 1 drafts but i have no idea how to start with well ermmm. by the way the song is in a different language/in filipino, i apologize if you don’t understand the lyrics but i can’t think of any more songsD:

He’s yours, you’re his.

You look pretty to his bored sight, the blank eyes deceiving his filthy intentions he discreetly covers your eyes, blinding the rational truth he keeps dead end in his pockets. Are not you his precious little doll? Small words may be spoken, simple acts may be acted, yet it treasures a deeper meaning when he’s along with your bittersweet accompany. Something tingling in his rumbling stomach each time you’re close beside, before, after him. There’s no meaningless difference, merely how his eyes dilate and shape into a beating heart whenever he catches you in his borderline—is a golden routine for every single arise of light and dark. When the moon sets above from the abyss, wherein the sun reflects its glow to light.

He surely adores this part of the day, it never goes out missing in his crumpled calendar. Punctured to his cracked wall. Whether it be the clouds wail, the sun burns, the moon turns to dust—it’s a cycle he would never get tired of despite how many times it repeats in a two’s arrival nor leaving. Who was he to stop loving you? He’ll be the one to chase after you in a zigzag pathway even if led to the below. He’ll sacrifice the world for you, he’ll sacrifice himself just for you. He’d banish from existence just for you and he snaps from delusions.

The moon glamoured your beauty, painting him a canvas of elegance. Chuuya’s eyes shot towards your figure, how alluring you are to trap his heart in your lively aura. An unknown gaze observes, the way your blouse plays with your movements. The way your eyes glimmer in excitement, he watches from afar. He noticed a man in a suit, before you he stands. As if like he’d take you away from his presence, no, no he won’t accept that. Chuuya’s hands slip into his pocket as the glint dies down into envy. Jealousy, arises from his heat. He gritted his teeth, “I’ll break that man’s fucking spine.” His hands clenched, fist forming as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

The ceremony was along to finally cease, yet Chuuya remained vigilant. He pries to search for that man, who’d be the one receive you first before his? How dare he, he’ll acknowledge his efforts once he sees you again. Softening as he captures you sitting from a distance away. The ceremony came to a halt as guests exited the building, Chuuya leaned against the wall as he only bargained his upcoming plan to murder that disgusting man. He was an executive after all, it’d be an easy job. Won’t it? He excused himself in the crowds of passers as he pinpoints his target, silent as he followed the man’s tracks. Drawing a gun he pockets, lurking in the shadows. Blood spewed out of the victim’s head, falling to the ground as red spills the pavements. Chuuya withdraws his gun as he eyed the dead body lying on the ground as he flees from the scene.

Luckily, he’ll move on to the main part of the day. He strode over to your house as he peeks by the window. He saw you, pupils dilate as you sat on the couch. Removing your shoes you stood up, “Fuck…” Chuuya mumbles under his breath as you went into your bedroom. He knew what was about to come as he trailed towards the room, he’s entertained by your show. Breathing heavily as his hands trembled in anticipation. Your fingers pulling your blouse up as Chuuya’s eyes widened. Cloth dropping to the floor as he saw your semi-naked body. Your skin seemed so flawless, your curves displayed so beautifully. Your pants being slid off only to be in your undergarment as you fold your clothes. Little did you know, a shadow piques to stalk your prints. You let out a breathy sigh, stretching.

“You’re really mine, aren’t you…” Chuuya mutters as he looks at you up and down. So bad, his gloved hands desires to claw on your skin—fangs to bite on your flesh to claim you as his. You dressed a loose shirt and simple shorts, too bad now covering your body his thrill wore down. Your features, he just imagines his hands traveling all over your warmth, his lips pressed up yours as he savors your sweet taste. Tongue exploring your mouth as his sight closed, to just run his tongue along your skin, teeth biting into your delicate neck to be filled with his markings. Yet his time was up, he has to get back to the headquarters—now isn’t this fun? He groans in annoyance as he spared you one last glance of lust and obsession.

He’ll be back for tomorrow, he’s sure.

—

[icryaboutit]

It was all acting?!

SUMMARY: Imagine, somewhere in the timeline of Twst, Vil asked for GenZ!Yuu's assistance when one of the actors failed to show due to reasons. So GenZ!Yuu of course agreed to it cause why not. And the real kicker to it all is that the person they were replacing is a lover who got their heart broken, so crying was involved. Now IMAGINE, the sheer amount of suppressed trauma GenZ!Yuu have finally had a reason to come out.

or something along those lines

TAGS: Male Yuu, OOC, Angst?

WORD COUNT: 1,290 words

"What do you mean, they can't come?!"

The high-pitched voice of Vil's manager echoed through the place, garnering much attention from nearby crowds.

"Keep quiet Adeline, you are garnering unwanted attention."

Vil's calm yet somehow tired voice came from behind his manager, making her look at him with a distressed expression.

"How can I stay calm Vil! One of our actor is unreachable! And today is a big day!"

She exclaimed, clearly today's event was something that was of great importance. Which it is, the current event at play may help Vil rise in more fame, hell! It might even help him finally beat Neige LeBlanche.

"I know how important this is Adeline. But there is no need to fret and stress over something that we couldn't have known would occur."

"But Vil-!"

"Hmm? What's going on?"

This snapped the two out from their own world arguing, when a familiar voice had interrupted their talk.

"Ah, potato, what brings you here?"

Vil greeted, as Yuu stood there with some things in hand.

"Rook had asked of me to deliver this for you Vil-san."

Yuu said as he gave the stuff on his hand to Adeline.

"Thank you potato."

"No problem~ Rook promised to give me some trinkets for this trip so it wasn't really free labor."

Yuu explained with a shrug, as Vil looked at him up and down with calculating gaze. Feeling this, Yuu decided to make a quick ran for it.

"Well, then... I'll be off no-"

"Wait a minute, potato."

'Damn!'

"What is it Vil-san..?"

Yuu cautiously asked, knowing whatever Vil halted him for would end up in a disaster.

"Potato, how would you like to star in-"

"No thank you~!"

Yuu sweated bullets as he declined Vil's offer in a swift move,

"You haven't even heard the proposal yet potato."

"Whatever Vil-san was about to say, my senses were telling me that such sacred duties are bound for a much fortunate soul~!"

In short, "Hell, no, fuck off!" was what Yuu wanted to give off which was brutally ignored by Vil's next choice of words.

"Oh~? Do you think my eyes would deceive me once I see talent potato? You must have mistaken me for someone else's personality."

In short, "Give up, you have no choice." And thus, getting the message, Yuu was added in the list of actors at the last minute.

"Where did Yuu go?! I can't find him anywhere!"

"Henchman! Where are you!?"

"Maybe he just went to the bathroom?"

"HUMAN! REVEAL YOURSELF! YOU MUSN'T MAKE WAKA-SAMA WAIT!"

"You guys need to calm down..."

"Bold of ya ta even think they'll just calm down."

Currently, a group of first years were looking for a certain Yuu who still hasn't come on their meeting place.

Despite their current shenanigans, all of the first years were deeply worried as they wondered what kind of mess Yuu had gotten themselves involved in just by being in the area.

*Ping*

The sound of the notification on all of the first years' phones rang, informing them of the message that they had received.

Opening the message they were greeted by a text from the same person they were looking for.

YesImYuu: Can't make it guyz~!😥 Vil-san has me trapped!😭You guyz can go ahead and go🤧😞 AND BETTER BE ON TIME!😤

"..."

"So he's fine, good to know."

Jack who was the calmest exhaled in relief knowing that Yuu was alright. He then proceeded to push the flabbergasted group towards the entrance.

"So I can say whatever I want?"

"Yeah, we just need a way for people to gather towards us so that the plot can be constructed... I guess, I'm not sure either."

Yuu was conversing with his partner who was as clueless as him, since the one who got information about everything was the one who was currently unavailable.

"Okay... So like, do you have anything particular topic in mind?"

"Well I mean, we just need to cause a commotion that will enable Schoenheit-senpai and the female lead to meet through the crowd. And we thought, what better crowd gathering option there is but a lover's quarrel..."

At the mention of the words lover's quarrel, Yuu had a bright idea popping into his mind.

"Oh~! Then how about-"

And this was the start of the famous lover's quarrel, staring the prefect of NRC and some dude from Pomefiore.

The play had started, and just as Vil and his manager had expected, the theme garnered a lot of attention. Adeline only prayed that the scene where Vil and the female lead would end up meeting would be a success. Considering that Vil had made a choice to add an outsider the last minute.

The moment that scene appeared, the first years who were either only there for the free food, or because of some reasons or just genuine support, had their eyes widen at the sight of Yuu with some pomefiore guy as they argued in the background their voices inaudible.

Not to mention the prefect had a dress on, along with longer hair, and makeup that brought out his feminine side.

It wasn't only the first years who were shocked. Everyone who was somewhat close or friends with Yuu was flabbergasted and shocked to see him acting on the stage. Even more shocked as the play continues.

"Who are you referring to?"

Yuu's face contorted into that of confusion and anger.

"Camilla."

The man spat with a look of indifference. The fake crowd on the stage was now genuinely intrigued by what was happening with him and Yuu, as they crowded over the two who were "arguing".

"Why would I care about her?!"

"Because I care about her!!"

At the sudden explosion of emotion from the man the people couldn't help but flinch at it.

Yuu who was on the receiving end looked like he wanted to scoff at the unbelievable proclamation.

"Morning, noon, and night I care about her!.. And you hurt her."

The man looked angrier by the second, the look of insanity dancing in his eyes. Yuu on the other hand was silent, but his eyes told everyone his true feelings on the matter.

"If you hurt her... You hurt me."

There was silence as there was tension, the people watched in great apprehension as they watched the scene unfold.

The man held a broken and emotionless smile, as he stared at Yuu who held and expressed nothing on his face.

"Camilla is who I want, that is where my loyalties lie, that is who my priority is."

"Not the mother of your children?"

Gasps were heard as a big revelation came. The sky darkens as the weather visibly shifted to a much gloomier setting.

"Don't bring the boys into this."

"Alright, not the woman you married!!"

"I refuse to be blamed any longer for this grotesque misalliance! I wash my hands of it!"

It was then that thunder strike, yet none were paying any attention to the weird weather changes as they watched the two on stage.

*Slap*

It was also the time that Yuu seemed to have enough, as he raised his hands in the air, a resounding slap echoed through the stage. Yuu looked at the man with an unreadable expression, but the tears that fell from his eyes held every ounce of emotion that was left for the man in front of him.

Gasps were heard, and the sudden movement made the crowd move suddenly, as they unconsciously pushed off a woman from the crowd, who happened to be the female lead. Only to be caught by Vil, who happened to have positioned himself there.

Nothing about that act was in the plan. But in the end, the play ran smoothly.