#I once worked in a haunted house briefly

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: The Hanahaki Disease is a rare illness where the patient throws up and coughs flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. In order to fully recover from the disease, it's necessary that the one they're in love with fall in love with them too. Or to fall in love with somebody else.

WARNING: Throwing up, blood, stomachaches, lung aches, one-sided love, crying, death talk. PURE ANGST, with a happy ending.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 2

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Panting and covered in a thin layer of sweat, Y/N found herself emerging from the whirlwind of bad memories that enveloped her sleep. Her heart hammered in her chest, echoing in the silence of the night. With numb hands, she reached for the bedside lamp, bathing the room in soft yellow light.

Her heart seemed to be squeezed as the images still danced in her mind, an unwanted reminder of the emotional turmoil that consumed her.

In the center of his room, Y/N remembers seeing Chris sitting on his own bed with a relaxed expression. Next to him is another girl, perfect, with long hair and a radiant smile, who seems too comfortable in his presence. Their gaze met briefly with a complicity she knew very well, but at that moment, it cut through her like a sharp blade. His sparkling blue eyes carried a glow of intense love that she understood well because she saw it in her own eyes every time she thought of him.

Y/N closed her eyes tightly, running her trembling fingers through her hair, trying to ground herself when a sensation that was already quite common for her captured her throat. Coughing softly, she felt something strange shifting from her lungs. A heavy sigh escaped her nostrils at the sight of small rose petals cascading onto the fabric of the sheet covering her legs.

The initial feeling of sameness quickly turned into panic as she felt increasingly suffocated. The petals continued to sprout, climbing up her throat like a reverse slide and sliping from her lips between each cough, like a dark warning of an unrequited love that was eating away at her insides.

In a moment of frightening lucidity, she seemed to remind herself that this was just another attack of the dreaded Hanahaki disease. Flower petals, once symbols of beauty and romance, have become signs of a silent curse for Y/N weeks before.

The famous, but so rare illness that haunted the passionate hearts of those who dared to love without restrictions. When a soul found itself consumed by unrequited love, its body rebelled, expelling flowers and petals through painful coughs, a physical testimony to the deep emotional wounds that afflicted the heart.

It was quite hypocritical of the universe to create such a disease that affected those who love. Suffering from unrequited love was already too much, but apparently not enough.

Each cough was an explosion of petals that escaped her slightly bruised lips, dark red blood vibrating against the yellowish light, leaving a messy and disgusting trail. Y/N clenched her hands into fists on her sides, feeling her limbs give involuntary spasms, the flowers gathering on the bed around her more and more.

The strange, distressing sound of coughing echoed through the hallway of her house, cutting through the silence like a cry of distress. Nick, who was staying in the guest room - better known as his own room - wakes up suddenly.

His brain barely had time to register his sleepy mind or what time it was, worry consuming him as soon as his eyes opened, getting up from the bed abruptly. His feet tripped over the pieces of clothing thrown on the floor while his hands rested momentarily on the wall decorated with posters, trying to regain his balance.

The boy runs towards his best friend's room blindly, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He pushes the door open hard, finding the devastating scene. Y/N was above her own bed, curled in on herself, surrounded by a sea of ​​petals, her face contorted in agony.

Without hesitation, Nick approaches, calls for her name escaping his mouth, desperately seeking a way to ease her pain.

"Shh, I'm here, I'm here." Nick whispers softly, kneeling on the floor next to her body and reaching out to gently stroke her back with one of his hands, his other one hovering over the sheets, feeling imposing at the sight of the confusing and unlikely mess of blood. "It's going to be okay, I promise."

With difficulty, Y/N looks up to meet the blue ones looking back at her, her teary eyes reflecting a mixture of pain and gratitude.

"Nick, I don't know what to do anymore..." She murmurs, her voice weak and shaky. Nick smiles tenderly in response, his free hand traveling to her clenched one, grabbing it firmly.

"Let's take one step at a time, okay? First, let's help you calm down." He carefully helps her to her feet, guiding her to the bathroom while whispering words of comfort.

Upon entering the small room, the brunette quickly guides her to sit on the closed lid of the toilet, moving nimbly to turn on the bathtub with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender essential oil that he knows is her favorite, with the intention of helping her body relax.

"Come here." Nick helps her stand again, helping her trembling arms undress her body, keeping it covered only by her underwear. "Let the water soothe you."

He holds her right hand firmly, guiding her until she sinks into the hot water. A sigh scapes Y/N's lips, feeling the heat enveloping her tense limbs as Nick sits on the floor beside the bathtub edge, ready to help her with the necessary.

"You will be okay." Nick whispers gently, watching the girl close her eyes and try to control her coughs.

While he offers her support with a calm aura never seen before in Nicolas Sturniolo, his heart is torn between care for her and a fierce anger toward his own brother that boils inside him, fueled by pain to see her in that state and injustice by what he witnessed every day since Y/N discovered the consequences of her unrequited love.

Nick holds himself back from screaming, from letting his fury consume all the space between them. But even in his silence, the girl could feel the tension emanating from his body, the intensity of his emotions throbbing in the air.

Nick vividly remembered the day he discovered the terrible truth about the Hanahaki disease that afflicted his best friend. He could almost see her anguished expression again, the silent tears that ran down her face as she confessed what a torment her unrequited passion had become. The memory of the revelation echoed in his mind like an incessant echo, mixing with Chris's trembling image.

Nick quickly shook his head, expelling the bad thoughts and feelings, focusing all his attention on the girl in front of him.

After Y/N had calmed down a bit, he helped her out of the tub, wrapping her in a soft towel before guiding her back to the bedroom, where he had her sit on one of her pink puffs, seeking for a comfortable set of sweatshirts, ironically, from Fresh Love in her closet.

"Are you feeling any better?" Nick asks her softly after making sure that her body was already covered in the warm outfit, his eyes observing her figure hugging the wet towel in her arms as if it were a teddy bear.

"A little." Her voice came out hoarse and worn out by the force she exerted when expelling the petals and flowers, feeling her throat scratchy with each breath.

"Come on, let's change the sheets so you can go back to sleep. You need the rest more than ever right now."

Together, they remade the bed, removing the scattered petals and replacing the sheets with fresh, clean ones, where the two lay down together, Y/N gently asking Nick not to leave her alone again.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The next day, Tuesday, after a restless night, Y/N and Nick headed to his house. It was recording day, and the oldest triplet couldn't find the courage to leave her behind. The atmosphere inside the car was tense but comforting. The girl drove cautiously, keeping close attention to the sensations in her body.

Upon climbing the entrance stairs, the two were greeted by the random sounds of a movie that escaped from the television sneakers and the silly fights between Chris and Matt, who were in the living room, thrown comfortably on the soft couch.

The wooden kitchen table was already filled with 21 different drinks that the boys would have to try and blindly guess the brand and flavor for that Wednesday video

YN tried to smile in greeting, but the weight on her chest seemed to suffocate her. A small "hi" escaped her lips, her hands quick to place her purse on the floor, next to the couch, before sitting on the other end of the upholstery, bringing her legs together beneath her body.

As she watched the triplets go over what would be done on the video, her gaze inevitably turned to Chris. Her heart sank as she saw him break into the most radiant smile at the mention of his girlfriend after Matt said something that reminded him of her. Every word that escaped his lips was like an arrow piercing her soul, reminding herself of the cruel reality that he belonged to someone else.

Y/N quickly looked away, trying to hide the anguish that was boiling inside her, but every passionate detail he shared about the other girl only intensified her own silent pain. She found herself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, desperately wishing he could see her while fighting the sadness of knowing that would never happen.

And then it happened. A sudden coughing fit took her by surprise, shaking her body violently. The girl bent her upper body, undoing her intertwined legs and resting the soles of her feet on the floor, panting as the three brothers turned to her with concern. She quickly brought her right hand to her mouth, covering it.

"Is everything okay, YN?" Chris asked, frowning as his eyes ran over her figure.

Y/N tried to smile, but another wave of coughing overcame her. It was as if invisible thorns were piercing her lungs, tearing her from the inside.

"I...I'm fine." The girl muttered, struggling to catch her breath. Her eyes quickly found her palm, blood smeared on her skin, along with small broken petals. She swallowed hard, struggling to control her overflowing emotions. "I think... I need some air." Finally, she confessed, her voice shaking.

Without hesitation, Matt suddenly got up from his seat, walking towards her with agile steps, stopping in front of her body and extending his right hand, offering her help.

"Come with me." The brunette suggested softly, grasping her hand and guiding her out of the room slowly, Chris's confused question about what was happening fading behind their backs.

The two went down to the garage, and despite the pain in her body, Y/N smiled as she stepped foot in the room that was so common, but that meant so much to them. Sunlight filtered between the small windows of the gate, naturally illuminating the space that became small with the van.

Together, they sat on the floor, their backs against the back of the car, the silence comforting as she tried to calm her rapid breathing. Matt remained by her side, offering her silent comfort, his eyes conveying deep empathy, concern, and a hint of something that, despite it being hypocritical of her, Y/N didn't seem to recognize.

"You know..." Matt began, his soft voice breaking through as he fixed his eyes on the gate in front of his outstretched feet. "You could still consider having surgery to remove the flowers."

Y/N nodded slowly, pondering his suggestion.

"I know." She murmured, her voice thick with resignation. "But... I don't know if I can. I don't want to lose our memories."

Matt frowned, his orbs traveling to her side profile, running over every little detail momentarily.

"I understand." He whispered, even if internally, he didn't completely. How could he understand that the love of his life preferred to suffer in an unimaginable way for someone who didn't look at her in the same way that he himself did? "But you know that if you keep going in that way, it will only get worse."

Y/N looked down, tears starting to pool in her eyes. She knew what Matt was talking about.

Hanahaki disease doesn't have many cures, but those that did exist were intense; Having surgery to remove the flowers and, consequently, forget about the love feeling and all the memories that surround it, or having the feeling be reciprocated, or survive with that until your body can't take it anymore.

She knew that if she didn't remove the flowers, she would die. Eventually.

"I know." She admitted, her voice shaking slightly. "But... I can't, Matt. The memories with him, with you two... they mean so much to me. I can't just give them up."

Matt nodded momentarily, his own anguish rising in his chest along with the urge to scream to the seven seas how much he loved her and that he was there to give her the love she deserved.

It was an indescribable pain, witnessing the girl he loved more than anything in the world be consumed by a passion that wasn't towards him, and Matt wished with all his being that he could ease her suffering, even if it meant sacrificing his own heart.

"He's an idiot. For not seeing you, I mean." The brunette muttered, lowering his gaze to the ground between his legs. "He's lucky to have your eyes on him and to receive a love like yours."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N's condition only seemed to worsen, leaving her increasingly weak and vulnerable. Vomiting entire flowers became a frequent occurrence, a constant reminder of her miserable situation.

Now, she was no longer left unsupervised, Matt and Nick taking turns looking after her, despite her complaints and constant fear of becoming a burden.

On a particularly difficult night, she was at their house, in Matt's room, where she would sleep since Nick needed to edit the last Cut The Camera podcast.

The sound of loud laughter came from the living room next to the small hall that led to where she was; Chris and his girlfriend were playing some video game on the television. The sound was like a knife to the heart, and Y/N couldn't help but curl up beneath the thick duvet, feeling a wave of nausea and despair approaching her.

Matt, who was sitting in his gaming chair while answering some emails on his computer, soon realized her imminent agony, rising from the chair abruptly as violent coughs echoed through the walls of his room.

"Hey, hey, I'm here." Matt crouched on the floor next to her body, murmuring softly. His blue eyes ran over her fragile figure while his hand quickly found home on her back, massaging the covered skin.

Carefully, Matt pulled the duvet down her body, straightening his posture and picking her up in his arms, quickly carrying her into his bathroom. The boy helped her sit on the edge of his bathtub comfortably, with her face above the open toilet.

The boy gathered the loose strands of her hair into a loose ponytail secured by his right hand. He grabbed the washcloth from the sink, dipping it into the running water of the tap before pressing the wet fabric over her forehead.

"That's it, let it all out, sweetheart." He whispered, his voice soft like a comforting breeze.

His blue eyes squeezed shut as the sound of a loud sob followed one of her coughs, his own eyes filling with tears. Matt caught his bottom lip between his teeth in a death grip, swallowing back his sobs.

As the coughs slowly subsided, Y/N felt relief seep into her being, small sniffling escaping her nose while thin tears ran down her reddened cheeks, a deep sense of tiredness taking over her body. She felt completely exhausted.

"Are you feeling like throwing up again?" Matt asked gently, stroking her shoulders with his free hand, receiving a small shake of head in return. "Okay, do you want to go back to bed?"

"I... I don't want to get the sheets dirty if... If another crisis comes." She murmured, her voice weak and tired.

Matt nodded understandingly, a gleam of determination in his eyes. He quickly reached out with his hand that was previously on her back, pressing the flush and closing the toilet lid.

"You're okay." The boy whispered, his voice soft like a comforting breeze. "Come here."

He settled on the cold bathroom floor, resting his back against the freezing walls. Matt gently pulled her to sit next to him, his arms wrapping around her shoulders in a protective hug.

Y/N leaned against him, laying her head on his right shoulder and looping her arms weakly around his torso, feeling the comforting warmth of his body against hers. Their hearts beat in unison, sharing the weight of their worries, fears, and loves.

"Sleep, honey. I'll be right here when you wake up." He murmured softly in her ear, his words echoing almost as a promise of comfort and safety.

For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to close her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the feeling of peace that Matt's arms gave her, which she never felt anywhere else. Her breathing began to get lighter, indicating that sleep was finally approaching.

With a heart heavy with love, Matt gently leaned his head over hers, his lips delicately brushing her hair as he whispered words of love in the silence of the bathroom, believing that the girl was sleeping.

"If you only knew how much I could love you the way you deserve..." He murmured in a soft, loving tone. "I love you more than anything in this world, and I promise to take care of you forever, even when you are not aware of it."

The girl was slightly startled when she heard the words, her heart beating wildly in her chest and surprise flooding her mind. She expected everything but that. However, she remained quiet, savoring the comforting warmth of his arms and words, which unconsciously touched her heart in a different way. A good way.

Maybe the universe had better things for them.

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[tessieee]

Main 7 x an MC that acts silly and talks to themselves when they’re alone

PT. 1 -- Pt. 2 after the fic that won the poll :p

Pairings: OBEY ME! Lucifer x MC, Mammon x MC, Leviathan x MC

༺═────────────═༻

Spending time alone in the House of Lamentation became a rarity as the brothers and you grew closer. Some days it was mediating a fight between Mammon and Levi, others it was being dragged to go shopping with Asmo, napping with Belphie, then a Fangol game for Beelzebub, and Lucifer on your tail over assignments from R.A.D. Regardless, you gave your precious time out like bread and water, feeding those who cried out for help; you knew being needed by so many people at once made your chest swell with pride and filled a void inside you that nothing else could. 

For a while, you’d convinced yourself that the exhaustion you felt was simply because you weren't used to so many people wanting to spend time with you at once, but your denial only went so far as you began to become snippy with your favorite demons. Talking to yourself was a habit you’d picked up every time you were home alone when you still lived with your parents. Staring in the mirror to finish off arguments, speaking to no one in particular while folding laundry, anything to fill the silence. Tonight you swore up and down that you finally had some time alone while finishing up a paper for Curses and Hexes and subconsciously, began to talk to yourself again.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Lucifer ~ 

“What the hell am I even saying here?” You guffawed at your words, strung together by nothing but the Devildom equivalent of Red Bull and your hopes and dreams.

“…great and then you decided to… to…completely ignore the hex counterpart”

You rolled your eyes, staring off to the side as if briefly looking at an off-screen camera. Someone has been watching too many sitcoms. “Awesome! Then I finish this and then I finish math and then I’m done. Dude, I think I’m the GOAT.”

“Thanks!”

Unbeknownst to you, your monologue had caught the attention of the eldest, who, like you, believed that he had been alone that night. Leaning up to your door, he continued to listen as you narrate your actions to an audience you never expected to have. 

“What would Lucifer say…”  You spew a poor impression of Lucifer. 

“You do know you forgot the hex counterpart! How will you be expected to make me look good for my boyfriend? Oh, Lord Diavolo!”

 Embarrassment weighed in your chest, joking about it only relieved the insecurity of whether or not he could like you back for a moment before stinging. You take note of the fact that the demon had been occupying your mind feverishly the past week, today was certainly no exception. You wished he’d check on you to see how diligently you were working. The thought of his approval made you wipe away a dazed grin, your face hot with shameful desire.

Laughter bubbled throughout the room as you made yourself laugh through the rest of your homework. Lucifer’s heart raced at the sound; as he had gotten to know you, your laughter became his favorite sound along with the haunted records he treasured. 

Being caught up in the moment certainly put him at a disadvantage as he almost missed your footsteps growing closer to the door. The prideful demon took this opportunity to feign intention and raise his hand to the door as if to knock on it. Smooth.

“Lucifer? To what do I owe.. the pleasure?” Your meek and confused demeanor threw him off. In front of his brothers you could be so witty, your retorts to the occasional friendly tease from one of his brothers at breakfast often resulted in his gaze focusing on your supple lips, he found that fantasizing about kissing you in the morning kept him distracted for hours to come. 

Your bravery and confidence that you had slowly built up with the time you spent in the Devildom was something he admired so to catch you in such a vulnerable state felt as if you two were sharing something intimate. If the hall wasn’t so dark you’d likely see his lightly flushed expression. 

“I- How long—“ You look behind you self-consciously. “Were you standing there?”

“I was just about to knock. Why do you ask?” You’re lucky he likes you. Sparing your pride, to the both of you, was almost a love language on its own. The executive decision to not nag you about your assignment at that moment was made soon after seeing your cute behavior.

“Oh,” a shy smile spreads upon your lips. You knew he’d be the last person to poke fun at you for this. “Well, it’s a little embarrassing but I tend to talk– to myself? When I’m alone— and.. sometimes around others and..” Your confession ended up sounding more like a question trailing off at the end into an awkward silence. Stupid beautiful demon face.

To your absolute delight, your awkwardness appeared endearing to the firstborn. Luckily you were able to catch sight of the slightly upturned corners of his mouth. He looked incredibly amused by your red cheeks and refusal to make eye contact.

“Are you laughing, Lucifer?” 

“You are the GOAT? Or so I’ve heard.”

“For that long?!”

There’s a moment of silence before you catch sight of his shoulders trembling with laughter, your fit of giggles in pursuit. Your heartbeat finally relaxed; you became aware of how comfortable you felt around him.

Who better than to keep your little secret? 

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Mammon ~ 

“Hooooly shit you’re a genius.” Your fingers flew furiously on your keyboard.

Quiet clacking noises emitted from your fingertips as your melodic voice broke the silence in your room. Music was much too distracting and you’d procrastinated enough on this assignment. Lucifer’s nagging reminded you a lot of your mother and it goes without saying you needed less of that. 

“Oh my god,” You scoff, noticing you had accidentally typed ‘Mammon’ instead of ‘divination’. The demon had been particularly clingy with you as of late, not that you were complaining. It felt nice to be needed, especially if it was him.

“Mammon.. oh he’s so cute.” You practically swooned, sighing loudly and quite dramatically. Your finger quickly made its way to your hair, twirling it mindlessly as your mind wandered from your assignment. The week’s adventures replayed in your mind. You didn’t miss the way your pose looked in the mirror, grinning and nodding in approval. Maybe you’ll post some selfies later!

It wasn’t unusual for Mammon to be demanding of your time if not the most out of all of his brothers. Who could blame him? Time flew when the two of you were together. Two peas in a pod.

“God, if I keep procrastinating like that I won’t be able to go with him.” 

You gasp quietly, taking note of the expression you chose.

“Is that like a cuss word here? Will I get smited?”

A singular “Ha!” Escaped from your lips followed by a string of words. Your frenzied typing had grown to a halt, the back of your seat used as a tool to help stretch your back. Truthfully you’d been at your homework for a couple of hours now and you still had so much left and it was so late. You wondered again where everyone went, you could hear the house creak and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t freak you the hell out.

Scrolling on your phone, you decided to open Deviltunes™ to cut the silence. Finally returning to your homework, you sang along and continued making small talk with yourself.

“Come to think of it, wouldn’t it be weird if someone was watching me right now? Nice question moron, of course, no one’s watching.” Your declaration came out less confident than you would’ve hoped. 

“You always talk t’yourself in private?” The speed at which you turned around almost gave you whiplash. Catching sight of Mammon all smug and disheveled, likely from a night out, made your breath hitch. “Worry not! The Great Mammon will grant you the favor of sparing your ego tonight!”

“Where’s everyone else?” Your arms stay crossed, attempting to make yourself look tougher. This moment didn’t affect you, certainly not! Especially because you did not care that he was the one to catch you talking to yourself and because you did not have enormous feelings for him. 

He only grinned at your weak attempt to change the subject. “Just out. Pretty sure Levi’s been here the whole time.” Both of you share a moment of agreement and you let go of a breath you weren't aware you were holding. This didn’t deter the demon from prodding you until you answered his questions. 

“You talk to yourself too?” 

“Yes, Mammon.”

“You think I’m cute?” 

“Mammon.” His eyes widened at your tone, a smile plastered onto his face as he raised his hands defensively. The avatar of greed swore he meant no harm and came in peace.

Frustration bubbled in your chest as he continued to poke fun at your habit– you were embarrassed yet the expression on your face, fidgeting, and red face went right over the demon’s head. Luckily he managed to catch on before he got pushed too close to your door. Complaints spilled from his mouth like chants he knew he’d pushed your buttons a little too much this time and, still with a grin albeit smaller than when he started to make fun of you, shifted his tone. 

“Alright, human.” He grabs your wrist with one hand, brushing stray hairs from your blushing face. “Pay attention ‘cause m’ only doin’ this once! Better not make me regret it.”

Mammon pulls you into his chest, halting your brief nervous breakdown and reminding you that despite all of the chaos you two get yourselves into he’s still your peace. You swear time freezes for a moment as you take in a deep breath, the scent of his cologne and cigarette smoke wrapping around you as his arms do. That’s your Mammon. He knew very well he wouldn’t keep his promise and you wouldn’t rather have it any other way.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Leviathan ~

MC.hammah:

‘Yo Levi. You home 2nite?’

‘Heard u went 2 a Ruri-chan pop-up! Get me something cute. Thx!’

Leviathanreallordofshadows:

‘If I have time after dis line’

‘Get these randos out of line I need this figurine more than they do. > : (’

‘Ugh this is taking too longgggggg’

‘Hey! Where’d u go? Keep me company or ur fake’

You didn't bother waiting for the messages that followed, even the resident shut-in was out of the house tonight. You tossed your phone on the bed and twirled around your room in delight. The world was your oyster– except the world, for now, was confined to the walls that made up the House of Lamentation. You could go exploring, but the sight of your discontinued essay for class held you back from leaving your room. Trudging towards your desk from your bed had to be the hardest task you completed that day.

Your head rested on the palm of your hand as your fingers found themselves in a comfortable tangle in your hair. Scanning the online textbook excerpts in hopes of finding more context to your evidence. All of the right pieces were there, you just needed the glue that would connect them all. Attempt after attempt, the words began to blend into one another and you notice you’ve been reading the same paragraph for the past 5 minutes. 

Why was focusing on this so hard today?

 You lean back to rub your eyes gently, the blue light of your laptop stinging your retinas. Maybe you were just a little butthurt that you’d heard nothing about this, especially since you’d been the one to send him the Devilgram post notifying fans of the event in the first place.

“Not even an invite? Seriously, what’s going on with him..” You frown at your lap, deciding to grab your D.D.D once again. The lock screen turns on, a group picture you’d begged everyone to take, the highlight to you was the cute poses you and Levi had chosen for this picture. Inside jokes like these often provoked the occasional look from his brothers; no one was in on them except you, him, and maybe Henry 2.0.

You scroll down the messages in your DMs with him, scanning for some sort of subtle invitation you might’ve missed but still nothing. With a quiet thud, you threw yourself onto your bed, continuing to scroll yet not finding a moment that excuse his lack of invitation.

“Guess m’ just not cool enough for these anymore.” “Did he take the fish? If you took Henry I swear I’ll rip your soft purple hair right out of your head.” You glance once more at your desk and bury your face into your comforter to let out a boisterously loud groan.

“Homework. Right! Maybe that's why he didn't invite me!”

You look into a nearby reflection with an expression desperate for approval yet you only end up with loud silence and a realization that you look insane. Focusing on your homework doesn't seem that bad anymore. The walk back to your chair is a silent one, thanks to that you were able to catch the quick footsteps from your door. Did whoever just got home hear all of that? Counting your blessings for finding yet another distraction to the assignment you were putting off, you head towards the door hoping to catch the spy. Opening it you weren't expecting to find Levi, much less with a giftbag from the event.

“Were you–” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, embarrassed that he’d been caught so quickly. “On the phone? Y-Yknow’ with someone?”

Had he heard all of the self-deprecating monologuing you spewed? Oh, no. 

“No! No. Levi, I was just…” You trail off, talking quietly with newfound paranoia of being eavesdropped on. “Talking to myself. Obviously.”

Great. That sounded insincere! The demon shifts the weight on his feet awkwardly as his hands fidget with the gift bag in his hands. “Oh, okay. I was just wondering since it– uhm– sounded like you were on the phone.” Poor boy… “I dunno’ I’m probably just being stupid.”

Your face softens as you hear his words. You two were too similar sometimes, sympathy was almost inevitable. Taking his trembling hands in yours you peek up at him through his bangs.

“What’s this, Levi?” “For not– not inviting you. It was supposed to be a surprise.” Ohhhh…

“Levi!” Your arms soon find themselves wrapped around his neck, overcome with emotion as you pull him close. You note he runs cold and that he smells like linen and a day at the beach. “I’m so sorry. I thought– maybe you were over me coming to events like this.”

“No! Never! You’re my– my Henry.” Levi flushed at the sudden spike in intimacy between the two of you. How he was able to keep it together this long was beyond him. “I just figured you were too busy for another event so I’d bring you something special” 

His free hand clutched your shirt to keep you close as if he’d let go and wake up from this dream where a normie and an otaku could get so close without a rip in the space-time continuum. Yet again, he supposed over time you became so much more than just a normie to him.

“It’s amazing Levi. Thank you!”

Worth it!

༺═────────────═༻

Note: OKAYYY I know the fic that won the poll isn't technically my first fic. This one's kinda like a pilot episode? They're also all long kinda so that's why there's two parts soz be nice to me please

Feedback + constructive criticism is appreciated !!!

[raysrays]

Fatal Attraction Chapter Two (NSFW)

18+ MDNI‼️

CW for the entire story: Breeding, Size Difference,Size Kink, Jealousy, Scent Marking, Age Difference, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Behavior, Angst, Twisted, Creampie, Angry Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Biting, Master/Pet, Light Dom/sub, Violence, Knotting.

Content disclaimer: This story is inspired by the amazing artist @PammyJammy117 on Twitter/X. I in absolutely no way own or claim the idea of the “Cryptid Rengoku” character. Please give credit to the original artist who inspired the story.

Chapter One

He let me go. I can’t believe what just happened as I stumble back to the small, secluded residence where Tamayo has been housing us. My ankle hurts, but not as badly as before. The pain lingers, though it's less intense after resting and talking with that monster.

I'm in shock and disbelief. Out of all the people who have been searching for these mythical monsters for years, I had the misfortune of encountering one—and a dangerous one at that.

I think back to that haunting smile, those sharp teeth, and the glow of his red eyes. However, Tamayo's rambling might have saved me in a way. I never looked Kyojuro Rengoku directly in the eyes, which means he couldn’t sway my emotions.

If I remember correctly, the Hashira—or more specifically, these cryptid creatures—have the ability to influence a person’s control once you look into their eyes. This could be a means of protection or a manipulation tactic. I didn’t care what Kyojuro Rengoku’s intent was. Once I realized the situation I was in, I kept my gaze low.

He seemed not to notice, or at least he never mentioned it.

My mind is racing, and there's a nauseous feeling in my stomach. The full realization of the situation crashes down on me all at once: I encountered one of the nine most dangerous monsters our group has been researching. And I can’t breathe a word about it to any of them, especially not Tamayo.

The guilt didn’t set in until I finally made it back to the small house. I could see Tamayo, Yushiro, and some of the others talking in a group through the window.

There they were, discussing theories and ideas, while I stood outside with a twisted ankle, no flower, and a huge secret I had to keep from them.

In that moment, it felt like the world was working against me. I didn’t even believe in any of these ridiculous creatures, and now I’m stuck returning to see one every other day.

And return I did. Once my ankle healed, I kept my promise to him, bringing offerings of different foods and teas. I tried bringing blankets and fabric once, but he didn’t seem to enjoy those.

Even though sneaking around at night to see him was difficult, I made it work. Our dynamic was confusing, but I tolerated it. The first few times I visited, we sat and ate together. He would ask me questions about myself and my life, which I usually answered briefly. I didn’t want a terrifying monster knowing everything about me. Recognizing my face was bad enough.

When I tried to ask him questions, he would either change the subject or ignore me completely. If anyone else behaved like this, I’d probably tell them off. But when you’re dealing with an eight-foot-tall cryptid with teeth sharper than any blade, I let it slide.

Today, on my way to see him, I felt different. I’ve been visiting him for around two weeks now and never felt us getting closer, but I’ve started getting used to his company. As I continued to see him more, his appearance began to grow on me.

The blonde fur, the sharp teeth, and the red glow emanating from his eyes became something familiar, something I expected. Over time, these once terrifying traits started to become... not so bad.

"Why do you look like that?" His booming voice jolted me back to reality.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking."

"It seemed like you were staring... Haven't you gotten used to me yet?" He flashed a smile so terrifying yet charming it sent shivers down my spine.

"No, it's not that. I was just trying to decide what food to bring next time."

"I really enjoyed the sweet potato dish. Bring it again." His ears perked up almost like a dog's. It was kind of cute.

"I've brought that one too often. You should try other dishes. Besides, I won't be able to come see you for a few days, so you'll have some time to think it over."

I waited for a response, but there was none. Slowly, I looked up at him. His face was scary, his sharp smile replaced by a terrifying scowl. His ears flattened.

"That's not what we agreed upon, Y/N. Why won't you be able to come see me?" he growled.

I struggled to find the words. Tamayo had informed the group that we'd be moving locations for a few days to cover new ground. I thought he'd understand. I never assumed he'd be upset by my absence.

"My group has to move locations for our search for a while. It shouldn’t take too long. I’ll return soon. It will only be a couple of days."

He got up and moved closer, and I felt every part of my body tense as he approached.

"Where exactly will you be going?" His face was so close to mine now. I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest.

"North… we’re going north."

I didn't have to look at his face to feel the intense glare he was giving me.

"You can’t go. You won’t," he snarled, pulling away.

"I don’t have a choice—"

"I don’t care. You aren’t going."

I didn’t understand. Is it just for the food? Why would this terrifying legend of a monster care if I came to see him or not?

"Why is it a problem? Why can’t I go?" I somehow managed to push the words out.

He was quiet, then I suddenly felt something around my wrist. I looked down to see his tail tightly wrapped around me, pulling me closer. That’s when I felt his sharp-clawed hand lifting my chin.

I instinctively shut my eyes.

"Look at me, Y/N." That usually happy tone had vanished from his voice, replaced with a voice as cold as ice.

Every bone in my body wanted to comply with his demands, but Tamayo's warning lingered in my mind.

"I can’t.”

"Look at me," he repeated.

I couldn’t resist. I knew Cryptids could influence humans, but I didn’t realize how much.

Slowly, I felt my eyes open, adjusting to the sight in front of me.

My mouth fell slightly open. I’d never seen such deep red glowing eyes before. That smile I’d grown accustomed to was completely gone.

I was scared, but why was I so… attracted to him?

"You will not go, Y/N. I'm sure you can come up with some excuse for this Tamayo woman you speak of so much," he spat.

I wanted to protest, to argue, but I just couldn't.

"Okay, I'll talk to her."

With that, he let me go, his tail slowly unwrapping from my wrist. His smile returned.

"Very good! You'll return to me tomorrow. I want the sweet potato dish once more!"

I could practically hear my own heartbeat—what a one-eighty.

As I walked back to the safe house, I planned what I would say to Tamayo, what excuse I would give for not going with the group.

Yushiro was definitely going to give me a hard time about it. But this whole situation sucks. I don’t want Tamayo to kick me out of the only place I have to call home, but on the other hand, I risk getting killed by one of the scariest creatures known to man.

-—————-

"Where have you been?"

I glanced up to see Yushiro and some of the others packing for the journey.

"I just stepped out to get some fresh air."

"Seems like you've been stepping out a lot lately," Yushiro muttered, rolling his eyes.

I had no idea why he was so hard on me. His attitude had only worsened the longer I stayed.

Ignoring him, I walked away. I don't answer to Yushiro. I answer to Tamayo, and that's who I needed to talk to.

My hand felt heavy as I knocked on the door to her office.

"Come in."

I opened the door slowly.

She was nearly hidden behind a giant stack of papers and books. As I approached, she stood and walked around to meet me.

"Y/N, what is it?"

I couldn’t believe how intimidating this small woman was.

"Tamayo... I can't go with you and the rest of the group up north."

She looked at me blankly for a moment. "Why's that?"

"Because I'm afraid I might be coming down with a cold... or something..." I hadn't really thought of a convincing excuse.

"You look fine to me. You're going," she said coldly.

Damn.

"I want to, I really do. It's just that I don't feel well, and I'm afraid I'll hold everyone back."

She scrutinized me. I knew she could tell something was off, but she was making this difficult on purpose.

"Y/N, I've asked you to look for the same flower for weeks now and you've brought me nothing. Now I'm asking you to join the group on our search up north and you're telling me no?"

When she said it out loud, it sounded ridiculous.

"You will go with us, Y/N, or you can't continue to stay here. The choice is yours."

So, my options were to face this 4'11" intimidating woman or an 8-foot-tall cryptid monster.

I'll take my chances with Rengoku.

After all, Tamayo controlled whether or not I had a place to sleep at night. I'm sure he wouldn't be too angry with me as long as I brought him more food.

"Suddenly I feel a lot better. I'll be ready to go in the morning," I said, forcing a small smile.

"That's what I figured." She retreated back behind her desk.

Something inside me felt off, my body a little uneasy. Yeah, he's going to be upset, but he'll forgive me. Right?

I walked up into my small room to get things ready, but I started to feel a little strange. My body felt odd, as if I was doing something wrong.

Climbing into the covers I think about everything, this whole situation that I’ve gotten myself into, with Tamayo, with Rengoku, all of it. I just don’t understand why it had to happen to me.

I never wanted any of this.

I was feeling confident until this morning. As I was helping Yushiro get things ready for the set out, my body kept feeling weird.

It’s like I kept having this odd sense of I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m in danger. I kept trying to shake it off but, it doesn’t go away.

Things only got worse once we hit the road. Tamayo may have thought I was lying earlier about being sick, because I was. But now, my whole body feels awful.

But it’s just a few days. I can push through. I’ll come home, make Rengoku a large dish of the sweet potatoes he loves, and all will be forgiven with a little ass-kissing.

“Y/N, are you ready?”

I look over and see Yushiro and the others staring at me.

“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go.” I push the sick feeling down and start to move.

I can’t help but think about why Rengoku didn’t want me to go up north. I know the territory mark ends, but really that shouldn’t mean anything. It’s not like I’m staying up there permanently.

As I walked with the group, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I felt like something was staring at me. It only felt more intense the closer and closer we got to the border that separated our usual territory from the north.

Once we started to step over that line, I glanced over my shoulder one last time. I practically felt my heart stop as I noticed two shining red eyes glaring at me in the distance.

He saw me, and he looked furious. I made the wrong call.

———————

To say that the trip up north was a waste of time would be an understatement—at least in Yushiro's words.

We searched around but found very little. To be honest, I was more paranoid about what we couldn't see. Knowing about the Hashira's existence has made me overly wary of wandering around.

While we were camping out, I read that we were in the territory of Sanemi Shinazugawa. His description was just as horrifying as Rengoku’s.

But what truly scared me was how violent this monster was compared to Rengoku. I knew these monsters were fierce, but the tales of Shinazugawa were extreme.

I felt so guilty keeping this secret. My group had no idea how much danger we’d be in if we ran into him. And it would be all my fault.

Honestly, if Sanemi Shinazugawa wanted to find and kill me, I wouldn't complain too much after the way Rengoku looked at me on my way out. I figured I was painfully dead either way.

I could feel my steps getting heavier as we walked back towards the safe house. It’s not like I wanted to stay in a monster-infested forest, but I definitely didn’t want to be there with Rengoku.

I’ve looked through books and journals of Tamayo’s and still can’t find much about him. Everything I found was positive. He was a kind, protective cryptid who watched over the main village in this area until humans deemed monsters too dangerous to trust.

There was nothing on his origins, background, family, or anything—certainly nothing about a temper.

So why was he looking at me like that? Like he wanted to kill me for going against him. Honestly, it felt like my body wanted to punish me for it too.

Ever since we left—no, ever since I agreed to go—I’ve felt sick and worried. I just kept feeling like I was doing something wrong.

“Y/n, when we get back, I need you to get some firewood.”

I glanced over to see Tamayo looking at me.

I’m dead.

“Oh, okay.”

The rest of the walk, all I could do was dread what would happen to me. Not only was Tamayo forcing me back into the place I wanted to avoid, but I’d also be going without some sort of food offering.

I might as well have signed my own death certificate.

Once we made it back, I helped unload everything and then slowly made my way back into the forest to get the wood. As soon as I stepped out of the clearing, a shiver ran down my spine.

Then the clicking started. He’s here.

“Y/N L/N.” The way his echoing voice spoke my name made me want to run, but my feet stayed planted.

Once he emerged from the shadows, his tall, broad figure just as terrifying as I remembered. But this time, there was no sharp smile or perked-up ears. Instead, angry, glowing eyes and a scowl that would scare any man.

I stepped back as he approached.

Just as I was about to speak, his tail wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer.

He leaned in and sniffed me. When he pulled back, his whole demeanor changed. His eyes darkened.

“You disobeyed me,” he growled.

“I had to. If I didn’t go, Tamayo was going to kick me out—”

His grip tightened, and his ear twitched with annoyance.

“You could have stayed here, with me. You don’t need her approval. The only person you should wish to please is me.”

His glare was piercing.

Stay with him? What is he talking about?

“I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t want to go.”

“I cannot believe you would deliberately disobey me. You even smell like him,” he hissed.

“Who?”

His clicking intensified with his agitation.

“Shinazugawa.” He growled fiercely.

“You left me to fall into his company? He is a vile, horrible creature. You dare to choose him over me?” His eyes flashed with anger.

I felt my heart racing as his words sank in. My mind scrambled for something to say, anything that might diffuse his rage.

“No, it’s not like that! I didn’t choose him over you,” I pleaded. “I didn’t have a choice.”

His grip loosened slightly, but his eyes remained fixed on me, burning with anger and something else—betrayal.

“You always have a choice,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You chose to leave. You chose to put yourself in his path.”

I didn't know what to say. I hadn't even interacted with Sanemi Shinazugawa, yet somehow his scent was all over me.

I looked up at him, my eyes pleading. "Please, Rengoku. I would never choose anyone other than you."

His glowing eyes bore into mine, as if trying to gauge the truth of my words.

Suddenly, he pulled me closer, his large, clawed hand grabbing my face roughly.

"Prove it to me then. Prove you're loyal to me—not to Tamayo, not to Shinazugawa, to me."

"How? How can I prove it?" I was practically shaking. I would do anything to get out of this life-threatening situation.

His intense gaze lit up, his sharp smile returning. He leaned in close to me.

"Become my mate, Y/N L/N. Prove your loyalty to me, and become mine." His echoing voice suddenly sounded less sinister and more sincere.

Become his mate?

I felt my face heat up. There’s no way. There’s just no way Kyojuro Rengoku, a cryptid, a Hashira, one of the most dangerous beings to roam the earth, is asking me, a human, to become his mate.

“What? What do you mean?”

His smile only widened at my curiosity.

“Become my mate, Y/N. Stay with me, love me, and I’ll protect you for all eternity.” His ears perked up.

I didn’t know what to think. Am I actually considering this? I’ve always found Rengoku oddly attractive despite his terrifying nature, and yes, I do enjoy coming to see him. But was becoming his mate really what I had to do to survive?

And how exactly would I hide this from everyone?

As I looked into his eyes again, they flashed. Something in me felt different. Why was I suddenly feeling more attached to him?

I remembered the first time I looked into his eyes. I could tell he was influencing my body and emotions, but this time it was different.

Everything I’ve felt for him just felt amplified: fear, intimidation, attraction, lust.

Was I seriously about to bend to the will of this monster just because my twisted mind was genuinely attracted to his horrifying appearance and oddly charming personality?

If it’s going to keep me alive, then Yes. Yes, I was.

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll become your mate, Rengoku.”

His eyes widened, his smile growing larger as his grip on my waist tightened.

“If you agree to this, you must know I’ll never let you go. No matter where you run, I’ll always find you and bring you back to me.”

That sentence startled me, but I never expected to succeed in any escape attempt. I knew I couldn’t outsmart a monster like him.

“I understand. And I agree.”

That seemed to be all he needed to hear. He pulled me closer, our distance vanishing. His animalistic nature began to show as he sniffed and licked my skin.

“I’ll erase every trace of him on you. You’re mine,” he breathed.

I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks grow hotter, my body reacting to his possessive words.

In an instant, he was on top of me, pressing my body against the grass.

I struggled to breathe, his weight nearly suffocating me.

His eyes were locked on mine, his glowing red stare seeming more passionate than threatening now.

Suddenly, he pulled back and tore the clothing from my body, his hands groping and feeling my exposed skin.

My heart raced. I knew what was about to happen, and it terrified me. But I was also strangely excited.

He was quick, his claws shredding the remaining scraps of fabric from my body, leaving me bare beneath him.

I couldn't believe what I'd gotten myself into. This terrifying, mythical creature was about to claim me as his own. And the thought of it drove me wild.

As his large, clawed hands gripped my waist, he positioned himself between my legs.

His eyes looked at me, hungry.

"Y/N L/N."

"Yes?"

"You're mine."

I felt a surge of excitement run through me as I nodded.

"Say it," he growled.

"I'm yours."

His clicking started up again and he positioned his face between my legs.

I can’t believe it, is he really going to—

"Aah!" I cried out as his long, rough tongue began lapping at my sex.

My back arched as he lapped and teased, his sharp teeth nipping and tugging at my sensitive flesh.

I could barely catch my breath, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

I could feel my legs shaking, and my body begin to tighten as his tongue flicked against my clit.

"R-Rengoku..."

His glowing eyes peeked up at me.

“Kyojuro.” He corrected.

“If you are to be my mate, you will not address me so formally anymore.” He growled, sucking marks onto my thighs.

He returned to licking and teasing my pussy.

I can't believe this is happening.

I felt the heat building in my stomach, the pressure building as he lapped at my sensitive spot.

"Ahh... K-Kyojuro, I'm close," I moaned.

"Perfect," he rumbled, his echoing voice vibrating through me.

His grip on my thighs tightened as he pushed his tongue deeper into me, licking and sucking at my throbbing sex.

The pleasure was overwhelming.

"I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum," I moaned softly.

He growled continuing his assault on my clit.

His voice, his touch, it was all too much.

I cried out, my body shuddering and spasming as the intense waves of pleasure crashed over me.

Kyojuro held me in place as my orgasm washed over me, his tongue never slowing its pace.

The pleasure was so intense I couldn’t think straight. My body had never felt so used like this.

As my mind started to settle I couldn’t help but crave more. And by the way he was looking up at me between my thighs. I could tell that wasn’t enough for him either.

Once he arose up in front of me, I took in his body. The ripped muscles beneath his blonde and red fur. His tail and ears, and now…

Now for the first time I’m finally looking all of him. His cock was the biggest I’d ever seen. It was thick and curved and had a large knot close to the base.

my body shivered with pleasure, I wanted more. I needed more.

As if reading my thoughts, he smirked and positioned himself between my thighs, his cock teasing my entrance.

"Tell me what you want," he taunted.

"I... I want you, Kyojuro. I want all of you," I panted, my body aching with desire.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

He grabbed both my ankles holding them with one of his large hands above my head.

I’d be lying if I said this position wasn’t slightly embarrassing, but at this rate I didn’t care. I don’t know if it was the cryptids influence or if I was just fucked up in the head, but I was willing to let this monster use me in any way he wished.

With one smooth motion, he pushed his thick cock inside of me.

I moaned out as he stretched and filled me.

He paused, letting me adjust to his size.

"My mate," he growled, his eyes locking onto mine.

I panted, feeling his cock twitch inside me.

He started moving slowly, his cock rubbing against my walls, sending sparks of pleasure through my body.

"Oh god..."

I couldn’t hold back any longer.

I gripped the grass below me tightly as he slid in and out of me, his knot pushing against my entrance with every thrust.

The pressure was building, the heat spreading through my body as he picked up the pace.

"Oh fuck," I moaned, my body trembling with pleasure.

He clicked and growled in pleasure, his glowing eyes staring into me with a mixture of passion and possession.

He was relentless, his hips pounding into me with a primal fury.

"Fuck, Kyojuro," I cried, my body surrendering to the ecstasy.

The pleasure was so intense, it was almost painful.

His eyes flashed with desire, his pace never faltering.

I felt his cock twitch inside me, his knot pushing into my entrance stretching me even wider.

It was painful but I didn’t care, the high of my orgasm made it bearable. His cock was buried so deep inside me I thought my mind was going to blank with every thrust.

even after I came he still kept going, chasing his own release.

His rhythm grew more erratic, his breathing labored.

"Mine, my mate." he growled.

"Yes," I panted.

My words sent him over the edge.

He let out a roar, his teeth digging into my neck as he spilled his seed inside me, filling me with his thick, warm cum.

I cried out in pain and pleasure, feeling his cock pulsing inside me, his cum not spilling a drop due to the thick knot inside of me.

I was breathless, my body exhausted and sore, but my mind was completely satisfied.

"My beautiful human." he whispered, his voice heavy with lust and possession.

I held onto him, my body still trembling.

He released his grip on me, his clawed hand releasing my ankles.

I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed as he pulled his softening cock out of me.

As the warmth of his body faded, the chill of the evening air set in, sending shivers down my spine.

But before the cold could sink in, he covered my body with his own, his warm, heavy frame keeping the chill away.

His face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, where he had bit me. his nose taking in his scent on my skin.

What have I done?

Next>>

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Eddie's mom was a free spirit who got taken too soon but educated her son in anything and everything that she found interesting. And she found A LOT of things interesting.

Eddie still secretly keeps these interests and sure, some of them are expected (weed and the best strains), some less so (obsessive reading and perfect knowledge of Edith Piaf). Eddie can even make fantastic mixed drinks ("My mom worked as a bartender for a bit and she practiced at home, what are you staring at, Henderson?!") and can quote most of Le Fleurs Du Mal from memory.

Steve learns to accept and even expect this. Mythology? Of course. Random bits of knowledge from history? Of course. The man only knows SOS in Morse code but can tie nearly every single knot known to humanity? Weird, but it's Eddie.

But then he finds out Eddie knows a fuck ton about horoscopes and astrology. It only takes a single moment of distraction on Eddie's part - Steve is complaining about his latest date, a girl Eddie knows from his class, and he scoffs.

"Well, duh. Of course it didn't work out, Steve, her Moon sign's an Aries and yours is Cancer, that's a recipe for a short fling, not a long relationship."

Steve just stares at him.

Eddie's eyes go wide as he realizes what he's just said. "Uh, I mean..." he scrambles for an explanation, "...she...sounds really stubborn?" he says slowly.

Steve blinks once. Twice. Then his mouth twitches upwards. "What is your Moon sign?"

Eddie feels like it should be a joke, but Steve is patiently waiting for his answer, encouraging smile and those fucking delicious moles. "I'm...uh. I'm a Scorpio. Moon sign, that is," he mutters and hypnotizes Steve's left eyebrow. "Which is...you know. People think it sucks."

"And does it?"

He snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, well. You know, we can be kinda...secretive? But Moon signs are all about your emotions and the inner you, so...it takes a while to get to really understand Moon Scorpios, but then we're the most loyal bunch you'll ever find."

Steve just nods, still smiling. "That's cool, doesn't sound bad at all. But - are you compatible with a Cancer Moon?"

And Eddie probably should have asked "hey, what the fuck," but someone is asking him about his interest, no irony and all that, and that isn't something frequent according to the Munson doctrine. "Oh yeah, absolutely. I mean, Scorpios can be a bit intense, but they're both water signs, you know? And it depends on the Sun sign and rising too, so..."

Somehow, they spend the whole evening discussing astrology. Well, Eddie is. Steve is just listening and asking questions.

Somehow, Eddie manages to calculate both of their charts (because Steve asked).

Steve asks a lot of stuff. "How would you make someone with your chart open up?", "What would be an ideal date for that kind of person?", "Is there something I should be careful about?" and Eddie answers everything but somewhere deep thinks man, I really envy the girl he's doing this for. She's lucky she shares the same birthday and place of birth with me.

It only clicks two weeks later when Steve invites Eddie to hang out and takes him to an alleged haunted mansion. Which...might have been one of the more outlandish ideas Eddie gave him, but he said he would actually love that and that it would fit with the Scorpio dark and brooding aesthetic, if Steve's girl is like that.

He stares at the haunted house, at Steve's sweater (the one Eddie told Steve suits him the best) and a small picnic basket and he realizes.

I gave Steve Harrington a complete guide to dating me.

Steve smirks at him and gently touches his hand, careful not to spook him. "So, what does your Scorpio Moon say?"

Eddie groans and, after briefly checking that no one is around, quickly presses his lips to Steve's cheek. "Apart from "Eddie Munson, how the fuck didn't you notice sooner?" It's purring."

The younger man laughs and Eddie could bask in that sound forever. "Pretty sure scorpions can't purr."

"With you, pretty boy? They sure can."

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 9 - The Song Of The Dead

Chapter Summary - Y/N discovers more about the events leading up to Aurora's death.

warnings: super natural elements, smut mentions of murder and graphic detail of mutilation (seriously i might be crazy)

Series Masterlist

MINORS DO NOT GO BEYOND THIS POINT

I never really believed in ghosts. As a child, the maids would tell scary stories to my sisters and I to keep us in our rooms at night. It worked when we were small.

It had been almost a month now since I'd moved in, and I could not shake the feeling that I was being watched constantly. A chill would race up my spine if my back was facing an open doorway, or the eery feeling of being followed down one of the twisting hallways haunted me. I couldn't grasp what the source was no matter how hard I tried.

At the start, I called it nerves. I didn't know fully what I was getting myself into, and sleeping in a strange environment without much to my name wouldn't have helped either.

But then the dreams started.

I'd be alone in the house at night, following a woman with long dark hair and pale skin. Every time we'd start at different points in the house, before she'd lead me to the library.

Tonight was a little different. She'd stop, facing away from me and into the large two-story room where the moonlight illuminated soft dust particles, giving it an almost eery glow.

We'd never speak, even if I tried, I couldn't. It's like she wanted me to pay attention to see what she saw. If I stayed behind her, the dream would end, but if I entered, she'd speak.

"My life was stolen." She'd say, her voice saddened yet echoed like a sirens song around me. "My work to protect turned to nothing."

I would turn to her then, gasping every time without fail at her lifeless features. Her beautiful cheeks hollowed and sickly grey. Her eye sockets were hollow, tears of black staining her lashes.

It was Aurora. She was still... here.

"It's your turn now." She'd say before the world around me would fade to black, and I'd regain my conscious form.

I sat up in distress, Mingi, who lay beside me quickly, startling awake at my sudden gasp for breath.

"Y/N?" He asks, his voice hoarse from sleep. He'd gently wrap his arm around me, holding me close to his bare chest. I'd calm at the steady thump of his heartbeat.

"I'm okay... Just a dream." I say softly. He held me close still, however, not letting go until my breathing had settled and my body relaxed.

He took my chin under his index finger and turned my head to face him, his eyes gazing into my own, searching for any signs of discomfort before leaning in.

When Mingi kissed me, it would start gentle, as if he was testing the waters before diving straight in. His hand moved from my chin to the back of my neck to bring me closer as he nipped on my bottom lip.

He slowly pulled me closer, turning my body so I could straddle him properly. He hums softly once I settle, hands now on my hips to help me grind against his crotch.

His tongue explored my mouth before his lips found my jaw and neck. His hands slid up my shirt to cup my breasts, his fingers teasing the hardened nipples causing a soft moan to fall from my lips. I could feel his grin against my skin as he flipped us over.

I gaze up at him, his eyes on me as he unbuttoned my pyjama top slowly. My eyes admired his chest and abs, my fingers reaching out to run over every dent and muscle, goosebumps followed my touch.

He leans down to kiss me again, his hands finding my thighs and rubbing them soothingly before spreading them further for him to slot himself between them. I reach down between us, tugging the waistband of his sweats as a hint for him to take them off.

He gets it, pulling away briefly to look me in the eye. "Are you sure?" He murmers, moving off the bed to discard his clothing.

"I'm sure." I say, watching him carefully as he slips his sweats down, revealing his body in all its glory. I swallow down the nerves that bubble when I see just how big he is. Its length was more than any I'd taken. However, his girth was fairly standard. He climbs back on the bed, his fingers finding the waistband of my shorts. He looks at me for permission before slowly sliding them down my legs, my waist lifting to help him.

He lets out a shuddered breath when he sees me completely naked beneath him. Something flickers in his eyes, hesitation.

"Shit, hold on." He says, getting off of the bed, I raise an eyebrow and watch as he rummages through some drawers in my dresser.

"What're you looking for?" I ask with a laugh.

"A condom- Why don't you have condoms?" He questions.

"Cause I don't need them." I say, a grin on my face as he continues to look. He turns to me with a confused look, as if the wires in his brain fail to connect. "I'm on the pill, Mingi." I say, snorting when his mouth opens in an 'o' shape.

He practically leaps back over onto the bed, causing me to let out a squeal as he does. He presses his lips to my neck, kissing and sucking on the flesh as he grinds down on me, the tip of his cock nudging my clit as he does.

He hovers above me briefly, his eyes searching mine.

"What's wrong?" I ask softly.

"Do you want this?" He asks, his adams apple bobbing. "I mean- Me? I don't want you to feel obligated because you-"

"Mingi." I laugh softly, cupping his face in two of my hands. "Stop overthinking."

"Right." He chuckles softly, putting his weight on one arm to reach down between us. His fingers gently rub my clit, before moving lower to my core. He groans softly as he gathers my slick around his fingers. "You're gonna be the death of me."

I smile and spread my legs further for him to settle. He sits back, hands moving to my thighs before his left holds the base of his cock to line himself up. He looks at my face again before pushing his head in slowly.

I try to relax my body as he pushes in slowly until he's completely bottomed out. He lets out a breath he doesn't realise he's holding, a small whimper falling from his pouty lips as he gets used to the sensation.

I hold onto his biceps as he hovers over me again, taking deep breaths to get used to the wanted intrusion. It had been a while since I'd had sex, so I knew it would sting a little. However, Mingi made it seem like it was nothing. He waited patiently, something I could never imagine a mafia man actually knowing how to do before I gave him the go ahead.

He slowly starts to move his hips, his thrust slow but deep. He hit all the right places, my moans mixing with his soft grunts. His eyes were on me, watching every eyeroll, every breathless moan that left my lips. His hand finds mine, holding it next to my head as he moves his hips faster.

I could feel myself getting close, but I held myself back simply because I didn't want to stop so soon. Mingi started to moan, biting them back as much as he could. Honestly, I loved them, the sound turning me on even more. I wondered how long it had been since any of them had even so much as laid in bed with a woman.

"Are you close?" He asks, sitting up slightly so his free hand could rub my clit, his pace never faltering. I could only nod, his tip hitting a spot inside me. I never thought it could be reached.

My orgasm came in waves, my thighs shook, and my eyes rolled back. I could hear Mingi's whimpers before I felt him spill inside me, his thrusts faltering as he rode out our highs.

I felt him relax, letting out soft pants before he pulled out of me to flop down beside me. I close my eyes, catching my breath before opening them and turning my head to look at him. He has a shit-eating grin, his eyes shut as he revels in the afterglow.

"Stop smiling like that." I snort, causing him to crack an eye open.

"I'm allowed to smile." He retorts playfully, rolling onto his side to face me. I roll my eyes, rolling to face him with a smile. "Wanna talk about your dream?" He asks softly, his hand reaching out to pull me closer, his hand rubbing up and down my thigh as he hoists it over his hip. I hum for a moment, hesitating to talk about it.

"It's kind of weird," I say.

"I like weird." He says, giving me a toothy grin that makes my heart flutter. I roll my eyes before I let out a sigh.

"I've been having these dreams about Aurora," I say simply, I didn't want to sugarcoat it, there'd be no point. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.

"Aurora?" He asks.

"Yea. Her." I say, shifting slightly to get a little more comfortable. "It always starts at a random place in the house, and then she leads me to the library. Every single time." I say, searching his face for any reaction. He nods for me to continue. "Tonight was different though. I saw her face. Mingi, she had no eyes." He lets in a short breath, his eyes clamping shut briefly. "Mingi?" I call out softly.

"How'd you know that? Did someone tell you?" He asks gently.

"Know what?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows. He stares at me for a moment, dumbfounded.

"You don't know?" He questions.

"No?"

"When we found Aurora... She was sat up and tied to this wooden chair." He explains, swallowing down the bile in his throat as he recalls the past. "When Seonghwa lifted her head, she-"

"She had no eyes," I whisper, finishing his sentence for him.

"The Cobra stabbed them out with a kitchen fork," Mingi says, I cup his cheek as a comforting gesture as I see his eyes gloss over. "We could only find one." He says.

"Only one?" I ask, a soft gasp falling from my lips. He nods in confirmation.

"It's been 2 years and we still have no idea where it could be. Hongjoong thinks The Cobra... Well.." He hesitates, but I know exactly what he's alluding to. They think The Cobra ate it.

"I'm so sorry... That must have been horrible." I say softly, the corners of his lips quirk slightly.

"Thank you." He says softly. "Listen, I don't know how and I really don't want to know why. But Aurora's tryna show you something."

"You don't think I'm crazy?" I question.

"Oh, I do." He clarifies, causing me to playfully hit his chest. "But obviously something in your self-consciousness wants you to go into the library."

"But, wouldn't that be weird?" I ask. "That was Aurora's space, I don't want anyone to think I'm tryna-" He cuts me off with a gentle kiss.

"Stop overthinking." He murmurs, copying the very words I had said to him. I smile softly, kissing him again before he rolls back onto his back, pulling me to rest on his chest.

I slept better in his arms, a strong protective cocoon just for me.

The library never ceased to amaze me whenever I'd look into it. It was beautiful, a spiral staircase in the middle with the walls lined from head to toe with bookshelves full of hard cover books.

This was Aurora's place, and I was merely a visitor.

Mingi said that Yeosang would be home today, though I hadn't seen him at all. I figured he was hiding out in his room like he usually did on his days off. Occasionally, I'd catch him sneaking into the kitchen for lunch.

I stepped into the library, eyes scanning over the magnificent collection laid before me. It truly was impressive, and a part of me felt a hint of sorrow for the girl.

"What do you want me to find?" I mumble, more to myself. A small part of me genuinely believed that Aurora wanted to show me something, yet I was almost entirely convinced that my own curiosity was making excuses for itself.

"Find what?" A voice says from behind a bookshelf, making me jump in surprise. Yeosang peaks his head out from around the corner, a confused look on his face.

"You guys gotta stop scaring me!" I hiss, a hand over my heart. He gives me a sheepish look.

"Sorry.." He murmurs, before disappearing again.

"Wait! Hold on." I call out, quickly rushing to follow him. I turn the corner and see him sitting on a plush loveseat, a picture frame in one hand, and a cloth in the other. He looks at me, his eyes blinking twice.

"What're you doing?" I ask softly, taking a step closer.

"Just... Cleaning." He says, turning his attention back to the picture frame. I glance at it briefly, realising the frame is empty.

"An empty picture frame?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't want it to get dusty.." He mumbles.

"Yeosang." I say, crossing my arms. "Did you follow me?"

"No!" He says a little too quickly.

"Sangie." I say softly. He blushes at the nickname.

"Fine, I may have." He says, putting the empty picture frame and cloth down. "You just.. You looked so focused this morning I got curious."

"You could have just asked." I chuckled. I realise as I say it out loud that that may be nearly impossible for Yeosang.

"You've never stepped foot in here before." He says, standing up. "Can I ask why now?"

"I'm... Looking for something but I have absolutely no idea what." I say honestly.

"Convenient." He quips, turning and heading down the aisle of bookshelves, I follow at his heel.

"It's something involving Aurora." I say, causing him to stop in his tracks.

"Rory?" He asks, turning to look down at me. I nod, assuming that was a nickname. He stays silent for a moment before reaching out, he stops himself before our hands touch, but before he can pull away I take it.

His eyes turn a light shade of red, but he holds my hand before leading me through the maze of bookshelves. Eventually, he leads me to the very back, where a bright reading space opens up. There's an art easle, a chess board, even a mini bar. No wonder Aurora spent so much time here.

"Rory spent so much time in here. Sometimes, I'd come and sit just to watch her." He confesses, his ears turning more red. "Sometimes, I'd catch her working on something. And every time I'd leave, she'd hide it somewhere in here." He says, letting go of my hand and heading towards the bar.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask, watching him as he pours himself a short glass of whiskey.

"Because I believe Aurora's trying to tell you something." He says, taking a sip.

I eye him for a moment before making my way around. I reach the easle, the wood painted black to match the already dark aesthetic of the house. The chess board was neatly set up and ready for a game. However, a pawn was missing on the white side. I contemplated it for a moment, glancing at Yeosang, who seemed to be distracted by something outside. I glance around for the missing piece, starting with no luck before I spot a white gleam sitting on the window sill.

I approach, kneeling down so that I'm eye level with the piece. From the dust that had gathered, it's like it had never been touched, at least not for years. This whole place, it's like it's some kind of time captule.

I started to feel around, my gut telling me something had to be there. There is no way there wasn't. I let out a shakey breath when my fingers brushed over a loose board.

I pull it off, catching the attention of Yeosang who makes his way over. "What the hell?" He questions, kneeling down beside me to look.

Inside the small little hideaway was a series of newspapers, maps, and documents. Everything is organised neatly with sticky notes and highlighted words sprawled out. I take the thick pile and rest in on my thighs, Yeosang staring at the pile with wide eyes.

I glance at him, and he glances at me before realising our close proximity and standing to move away.

"Rory... What were you doing." He mumbles, running a hand through his hair as he sits down on one of the leather couches.

"Something important." I say, looking down at the newspaper on top of the pile.

'The Cobra Bites Again.' dated exactly 2 and a half years ago. I remember seeing this on the news, a body was found quatered on the subway by a school boy waiting for his morning train.

It was no secret that The Cobra killed his victims in brutal ways, all of them unique. For the longest time, I thought Chalita was one of them. However, Hongjoongs revelation made me second guess everything.

I was 16 when my sisters death was reported back to us. The only thing they could identify of her body was her hand. Everything else was burnt off by acid and strung up in a tree for 3 weeks, completely left for the elements. I remember throwing up continuously for an hour after the news. My mother was a mess and didn't speak for almost a month. My little sister didn't know, she didn't need to know. She was only 10.

My father, like always, seemed more disappointed than concerned. He shook his head and gave my mother a cold look as she screamed in agony before returning back to his work. He never cared.

"I hope you aren't thinking what I think you are." Yeosang says, pulling me back to reality.

"Yeosang-"

"Don't. Rory got herself killed because she got too caught up in this." He says, standing once again as I do the same. "I'm not letting you do the same."

"Yeosang I have to do this." I say.

"No, you don't." He scoffs, reaching to take the documents, but I pull away.

"Do you not want revenge?" I ask, my voice coming out harsher than I meant it to.

"Revenge?" He chuckles. "Of course I want revenge! But that doesn't mean I'm going to blindly search for a psychotic maniac!"

"Well, how else are you supposed to find him?" I laugh bitterly.

He takes a deep breath, fingers massaging his temple. "Listen, Y/N."

"No. I'm done with letting you all tell me what I can and can't do." I snap.

"Y/N." He says sternly. "Mingi and Jongho are already attached to you. Do you really want me to be the one to tell them that I found your body mutilated at the bottom of a ditch?"

I swallow at the thought. I'd grown to really like Mingi and Jongho, the two of them being much friendlier towards me than the others for the most part. "That's not fair." I state.

"It's the truth." He says back.

"Why are you guys so against finding this guy?" I question. "Wouldn't you be heros if you caught him?"

"It's not the simple." He says.

"Then dumb it down for me." I quip.

He groans in frustration, his knuckles flexing at his sides. "He's dangerous. One wrong move and everything we've worked for goes up in flames, or worse one of us dies."

"So you're cowards?" I question, causing his jaw to drop.

"No. We're not stupid." He says.

"So you're calling Aurora stupid?" I fire back.

"Stop twisting my words!" He snaps. "And honestly? Yes, she was for doing this alone! And you would be too!"

"Then help me!" I shout, frustrated. He goes silent, his mouth moving but no words form. He was stumped. I actually stumped him.

"God, you're just like her." He says, his voice softer now as he looks down at his feet.

"Yeosang." I say gently. "I have to do this."

"I know." He says, body slouching. "Do you actually want our help?" He asks, peaking up at me.

"It wouldn't hurt." I huff, looking down at the documents. If I were going to do this, I had to do this differently. A new approach, new sets of eyes, more help.

I watch as a soft smile spreads across his face. "You're something." He mutters, before turning and leaving me before I could say another word.

Honestly, the more time I spent with these boys, the odder they got.

I move to sit down on a leather couch, my eyes looking out onto the lush green grass outside, I could see the pool from here, and the greenhouse. I let out a soft sigh, a sick feeling in my gut.

My curiosity was going to get me killed.

That much I knew.

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[frost-queen]

Starcrossed lovers // part 7 (Reader x Peter Parker) NWH

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @narnianwitch , @benonlinear , @canthebest1 , @mellowdreamlandpost-blog , @thewhitewolfmarvel , @freek12569 , @bookloverfilmoholic , @cigarettedaydreamsandcofee , @qalijahbydior , @gabriella-aesthetic , @fallenxjas , @fluffybunnyu , @minimin1993 , @supernaturalstilinski @cherrysxuya , @armybts20137, @superlegend216 , @wtvbabes , @bat-h-tic , @snowflakemoon3 , @avatarobsessedgirly , @fries11 , @gothicwidowsworld , @whisperofthewild

Summary: Stuck in a sinister time-line, you see more of the wizard that holds you captive. Christine and you bond more to a level of understanding. Meanwhile the Peter's and Dr. Strange are trying to figure out where you might be. Till an accident sets a certain faith in motion. [series list]

The chains rattled loudly against the floor. With puff after puff after puff you tried to pull at your restrains. It was pointless but you needed to try anyways. Tensing your jaw, you pulled again. And again and again. Groaning loud in frustration afterwards. -"It's no use." - Christine said with a soft sigh. Looking at her own restraints. -"I have to keep trying."- you replied with another pull. Arms weak they dropped down with a heavy exhale. -"I just have too..."- you finished wanting to have another go at it but your arms were not obeying. Christine looked pitiful your way.

Exhaling loud as she let her head fall back against the wall. -"There is no simple escape from this."- she breathed out touching her forehead. -"I'm sorry Stephen dragged you into this."- it felt weird seeing her apologize to you on his behalf. He should be the one apologizing. You seated yourself a bit better, biting your lip briefly. -"How... how did you get involved with the wizard?"- you asked curious to her story. Christine took a deep breath, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

"Stephen and I... worked together... a long time ago."- she started explaining. -"I... I shan't deny there were any feelings... but Stephen's greed and desire for more was the thing that pushed me further away from him. I had moved on, engaged to another..."- Christine fell silent for a moment. Biting back her tears. -"He couldn't cope with that..."- you filled in seeing her nod shakily. -"He did not..." - she answered, pulling her knees to her chest.

You pulled yours up to your chest as well. Holding your knees in comfort. -"Please don't find me Peter."- you whispered to yourself. Unsure what Strange would do once Peter would return. Peter Parker from another earth. A Peter Parker that had not been in love with MJ, but with Y/n. An Y/n he had lost in this world. Christine turned more to you with a sorrowful smile. Trying to keep herself cheerful despite the situation. -"So what is this Spiderman like?"- she asked making you chuckle. Christine pulled her shoulder up once you looked, not really sure what to talk about else.

"Well... he's... someone I recognize from school... I think" - you replied thoughtfully. You noticed Christine quirk her eyebrow up. It felt too complex and complicated to explain to her. Not sure what to say else, you shook your head to shake the silly thought away. Your attention got drawn to the sanctuary. It looked familiar as if it was a foggy memory.

Yet it was different. More darker and gloomier than the foggy memory gave away. Almost sinister. Oh you so hoped Peter wouldn’t come and find you. Sudden movements made Christine and you freeze. Loud deep humming echoed through the haunted halls. Christine moved further away from you. You backed more up against the wall.

Knowing it was him. Coming down the stairs. His gaze falling on the both of you.  – “Hello Ladies.” – he said so heartfully it made you sick. Knowing it was just a sugarcoating for what laid below. Stephen approached, moving his hands behind his back. – “Still no Spiderman?” – he asked you. You answered with a shake of your head. – “Shame.” – he answered deeply. He stepped more into the light as he appeared different. Greyer in his face than before.

As if his features were darkening and hollowing him out. He noticed you were staring at him, making him chuckle. – “A little cost…” – he replied looking at his own hand. Seeing it had more wrinkles on it. He came kneeling before you, making you crawl back. – “I’m counting on your Spiderman to come.” – Stephen told you with a smirk. – “He’ll never come.” – You bit back.

Stephen’s expression tensed. His hand shot out, grabbing you firm by your chin. – “For your sake I hope he does!” – Stephen made clear. Giving your airpipe a good squeeze. You chocked and struggled in his grip. – “Stephen!” – Christine screamed out. Stephen only chuckled, squeezing just that little extra. Gasping for breath, you started thumping your fist on his arm to release.

He kept squeezing just that bit further till he suddenly let go. Your body fell to the side, coughing loud and grasping for air. The air feeling like burn in your lungs. – “You’re a monster.” – Christine shouted at him, disgusted by the man she once knew. Stephen got up, straightening his posture.

“One day you’ll understand I’m doing this for you.” – he replied combing his fingers through his hair. He folded his hands behind his back once more. Turning around to head back upstairs. Christine waited a save amount of time before calling out to you. – “Y/n are you alright?” – she asked worriedly.

You shakily nodded, still laying on the ground. Horrified that he could easily kill you. The familiar sounds echoed from upstairs. Making you close your eyes tight. Horrid sounds followed by a scream and magic being sucked in or drained. Christine looked away, sobbing quietly at the monster Stephen was becoming.

Crying quietly you knew there’d come a day where he’d have no more magic to absorb. Where he will grow angry and impatient of Spiderman not coming. For he needed something desperately from Spiderman.

The watch drew his attention. Making Peter tilt his head slightly to observe it more. The screen moving with a flow motion of orange. – “Interesting watch.” – Dr. Strange pointed out coming to join Peter. Peter moved his hand behind his back out of instinct. Strange held his hands up in defence that he meant no harm. Peter slowly revealed his arm once more. – “Strange gave it to me.” – Peter explained holding his wrist to uphold the watch more. – “Your Strange.” – Dr. Strange specified to be certain.

Peter nodded lowering his hand to his knee. – “I…I mean my other me made that?” – Dr. Strange asked curious. – “No.” – Peter chuckled out. – “An ant-man… funny right.” – he looked up to Strange, seeing he wasn’t laughing at all. – “Scott! We have him here too.” – Stephen replied with a smile. – “So… so what does it do?” – He then asked. Peter showed him the watch better. – “It brought me to Y/n and it will take me back.” – he explained.

“Interesting.” – Stephen mumbled. Peter, Peter from this earth cleared his throat loud. – “If you two might be done with your chattering, may I remind you that we are still looking for Y/n.” – Peter called out. – “Unless you just want to return without her.” – Peter one added with a jealous mark. – “Never!” – Peter three answered loud getting up. – “Alright, alright boys.” – Stephen settled, getting up as well. Peter three and one kept glaring at each other. Strange patted Peter three on his back to stop.

“Don’t you have something to find her?” – Peter one asked a bit snappy as it made Strange quirk his eyebrow up at the tone this kid was talking to him. – “I shall see.” – he replied in a serious tone. Peter three followed him. – “So what earth are you from kid?” – Strange asked curious. – “Earth-120703.” – Peter answered feeling more familiar with this Strange than his own.

Stephen hummed loud. Going through his artifacts, trying to see if any of them would help. Peter one was going through stuff on the other side, staying as far away from Peter three. They searched the entire floor with no results. Strange sighed deep, rubbing his forehead. – “I…I need to think.” – he said going to sit down. The holder around his neck, bumping against his chest. It made him look down at the holder keeping the time-stone save.

Quirking his eyebrow up, he seated himself better. – “No disturbance.” – he let out with a glare at the Peter’s. They both nodded. Watching as Stephen opened the holder for the time-stone to be revealed. He started to float, hover over the flooring. Green circles of magic slithering around his wrists. His eyes closed as he focused.

Peter three started to sway his leg back and forth to kill the time. Peter one kept a close eye on him. Seeing him as a torn in his eye. – “You still plan on abducting Y/n.” – he said. Peter three turned round fazed by his speaking. – “I…I’m not abducting her.” – he replied. – “Yes you are!” – Peter one answered loudly, getting up.

“No…I’m not…” – Peter three clarified. – “Oh right you just want to take her to your earth just because you are lonely. Well guess what Peter, the world isn’t fair!” – Peter one gave Peter three a little shove. – “Hey where is this coming from?” – Peter three asked. It saddened him to see Peter act like that. He looked at him like a brother.

Along with the other Peter he missed dearly. Out of frustration he shoved Peter back. Peter clenched his jaw. He rushed up to him, grabbing him by the waist to tackle. Peter three stood his ground, feet sturdy on the ground. Getting shoved a bit further away with Peter still around him. – “Knock it off man!” – Peter three called out trying to get him off.

Peter one grunted loud trying to tackle him again. Peter three shoved Peter away from him. He stumbled back nearly falling to his back. – “The wizard’s busy.” – Peter three pointed out for him to stop. Peter one panted loud. – “Promise me you won’t take her.” – Peter one called out needing to hear those words. Peter three gave him a pained expression. – “You know I can’t do that.”  - he responded with grief. Peter one clenched his jaw shooting a web up.

Letting himself swing he kicked Peter three back against the wall. Peter’s back hit the wall, his wrist smashing against the hardness. Peter one’s eyes widened seeing him slowly disappear through a portal before his body fell to the ground. He blinked shocked when Peter three was gone. Stephen gasped loud, falling back down on his bottom. Peter one rushed over to him to keep him steady.

“Where…where’s Peter…” – he breathed out looking all worried at Peter. – “Where’s the other Peter?” – he panted out grabbing Peter by his shoulder. Peter swallowed nervously, looking back at the empty space Peter fell not so long ago. Stephen looked as well, eyes wide with horror. Ready to curse.

Peter three fell through nothingness till his body smacked against something hard. Groaning loud in pain, he slowly pulled himself up by his hands. Footsteps neared as it made him blink rapidly. A pair of shoes came in sight as he tried to adjust his vision. His gaze going higher till his vision sharpened on a vicious smile. – “I’ve been waiting for you Peter.”

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[anghraine]

Random thought before back to defense prep:

Something I find interesting and enjoyable about P&P is the way that Austen both foreshadows various revelations about Darcy and complicates them before they ever happen. This is typically done through subtle asides or quick interchanges that don't necessarily register as that significant at the time, but still gives the readers a chance to pick up on what's really going to happen.

Just a few examples:

1- Elizabeth and Charlotte briefly discuss how difficult it would be for an outsider, and perhaps Bingley himself, to detect Jane's true feelings:

It was generally evident, whenever they [Jane and Bingley] met, that he did admire her; and to her [Elizabeth] it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she [Elizabeth] considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and an uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend, Miss Lucas. “It may, perhaps, be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded.”

2- Darcy tries to warn Elizabeth at the Netherfield Ball:

“I can readily believe,” answered he, gravely, “that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”

3- Charlotte tries to "read" Darcy at Rosings:

He [Darcy] seldom appeared really animated. Mrs Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as she would have liked to believe this change the effect of love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself seriously to work to find it out: she watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success.

4- literally the next chapter, one of the funnier miscommunications between Elizabeth and Darcy in Kent:

More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, unexpectedly meet Mr Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him, at first, that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even the third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance; for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr and Mrs Collins’s happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it.

Very mysterious!!!! Definitely none of their communications here could justifiably be misread!!

[bonthefuckjourx]

Lucifer x Sinner!reader (Hazbin Hotel)

   SUMMARY: You wake up in Hell and realize you didn't make the cut into Heaven. You never did anything evil, but never believed in God. You wanted to live life by your own morals. Little did you know a group of hazbins would take you in and show you more kindness than anyone on Earth ever did. Then you met someone you never thought you would, Lucifer, the King of Hell. Then you did something you never thought you would, make a deal with the devil.

Word Count: 3300k+

WARNINGS: smut

A/N: I am so excited to give you guys this chapter! I feel like we are actually moving now. I've been wanting to write this non-stop, so hoping another update will be out tomorrow. In the meantime, happy reading!!

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CHAPTER THREE: I Did Something Bad

“I can’t believe he just kicked us out like that! I mean who the fuck does he think he is?”

Charlie was pacing back and forth in her office back at the hotel. The meeting went less than ideal as Heaven wasn’t forthcoming on her idea. Not only did they rudely kick us out and fling her papers everywhere, but they also increased the Extermination date. It put you on edge how much the angels enjoyed it. You spent the last extermination boarded up in a crate for the entire day. The screams of sinners and the laughter of the angels haunted you in your sleep.

            “I mean it makes sense that the first man alive was this egotistical asshole. “

You mentioned that quite a few men on Earth were like that as well. Of course, you were brushed off as Charlie wasn’t paying attention to anything but her own mumbling. After a few minutes Vaggie came into the office and you decided Charlie didn’t need you anymore for moral support. You closed the door behind you as you made your way up to your room. It had been a long day and all you wanted was to wrap up in your warm comforter. As you walked into your room you noticed a certain friend, Angel Dust, sitting on your bed waiting for you. His head perked up as you walked towards him.

            “Y/n you are not going to believe this. He sang to me, and of course I was upset, but he sang to me. No one has cared even to ever do that for me. Afterwards he was so understanding, and we took a walk together. I mean it’s like we’re practically dating.”

            Angel Dust wrung his hands has he watched you sit next to him on your bed.

            “Did you guys’ kiss at all?”

            “Well, no, but y/n I was so nervous, and for once this is something I want to work out. I can’t afford to mess it up.” He was nervous as he looked to you for support.

            “That’s a good thing. It means you really care. I’m glad you want to take things slow for once, it’ll be good for the both of you.” Your hand gripped his shoulder as you tried to comfort him.

            “Thanks y/n. I guess I just wanted confirmation that I’m doing the right thing. I really like him.”

            “I know you do. It’ll all work out I promise.” You laid back on your bed, closing your eyes briefly. It wasn’t long before he spoke up.

            “So how was your date with the King of Hell?” You opened your eyes, glaring daggers at him. In turn he was smirking at you expecting a response.

            “It wasn’t a date, and you know it. “

            “Well practically, right? You went over to his house, that’s close enough. Did ya do anything? Tell me how big the King’s cock-“

            “Angel Dust! Nothing even happened! We had some snacks and something to drink and we talked.”

            “You. Talked?” He looked at you as if he didn’t believe you. Perhaps he knew you too well by now. You caved in.

            “Well, we did talk, but he also touched my face again and when he looked into my eyes I just couldn’t look away and then next thing I know he’s leaning me over the couch and he’s kissing me and oh my god he just touched me, Angel. Something like that has never happened to me before. It left so different, so alive. It was like his magic was all around, intoxicating me.” You spoke with your hands as well trying to have him understand just how much everything was. You dropped your hands to your sides as you stared at the ceiling, waiting for a response.

            “That’s amazing y/n, but if you ever tell the story to someone else, I advise you to leave out the part where you mention his rival. I’m pretty sure he would be less than happy to hear God’s name coming off your lips rather than his.” A blush overcame your face as you thought of saying his name repeatedly in desperation. It’s horrible just how much he ended up in your thoughts. It’s even worse most of those thoughts are less than clean.

            “Angel, I don’t even know what to do. It’s like he’s a drug to me. Something about it feels so wrong, but so very right. I mean he’s Charlie’s dad, and Charlie also has a mom. Not to mention Lucifer is how many centuries old? I was only 21 when I died. I feel like we could never actually work out. We have so many differences, but there is the trouble between Heaven and Hell. Not to mention we are trying to rehabilitate into Heaven, right? I don’t know if I even want to at this point.” Tears welled up in your eyes at all the impossibilities.

            “Maybe you should take it slow then, like me and Husk. Just be friends.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Angel left you sat in your bed for a long while. Tears came and they went and eventually you even wrote a bit in your journal. Being friends made sense even though every part of you wanted more. It would be best to be friends until this whole thing with Heaven blew over. If you could convince yourself that you were just friends with him, then maybe you could convince Charlie this was a one-time thing. Speaking of which, you needed to stand up and actually go see her. Ten minutes later you found yourself in front of her bedroom door. You knocked waiting for her to open. Almost immediately it opened, making you wonder if the Morningstars had some more magic up their sleeves than you knew about.

            “Y/n. Hey come in.”

            “Sorry for not coming to you after we came back. I was emotionally tapped out.” You walked inside as she ushered you over to a sitting area she had. A small couch was on one side as a cushioned hair was on the other.

            “It’s okay I understand. However, you might want to explain what exactly is happening between you and my father.” She sat down on the chair leaving the small couch to you. As you set down you rubbed your sweaty hands on your thighs. Charlie looked at you expectantly.

            “Well as you know I really can’t go outside. It’s one of my fears after my death and I just go into panic mode. A couple of weeks ago when he visited the hotel, he found me near a balcony. I admitted to my fear, and he offered to help me overcome it. He brought me to his study. It has these huge windows that look over the city and in a way it helped. I asked him if he would help me with going outside in the future and he said he would. That’s how we ended up traveling together to the embassy today.”

            “That much I gathered but thank you for confiding in me. I understand it takes courage to bring up fears. You still didn’t explain to me, how do I put it, how my father became disheveled.” You looked away from her, baring an awkward smile, hugging your sides. She waited when you were ready.

            “Yes that… He teleported me to his mansion first. There was time so we talked, and one thing led to another. I don’t plan to continue these actions. I do want to become friends with him, but right now it’s too messy. Not to mention he’s your father and had a wife at some point I gather?...” You looked at her with a grimace hoping to not bring up hard feelings. Charlie didn’t seem to mind.

            “Oh that? They haven’t been together for most of my life. I do think it is a great idea you visit these feelings later. I’m all for following your heart, but for one we’re talking about rehabilitant you to Heaven! Not to mention he is my father and if anything does happen in the future, please encourage him to leave me out of it.”

You both ended up laughing together, satisfied with your talk. Your conversation turned to other things and before you knew it you two were chatting about anything and everything. Just like it used to be. There was a reason she chooses you to help her around the hotel. You shared very similar aspirations as her. The only difference was you were not hell born, although sometimes you wished you were. Sinners could not leave the ring of pride, not to mention hell born often thought less of sinners. They could be powerful yes, but sinners could only reproduce if they had a hell born. Many of them didn’t want to touch sinners. It was an afterlife, but it was apparently meant to be a punishment. Many things in the city weren’t there to make sinner’s lives easier.

Eventually you left to retire to your room as you both were becoming tired. You changed into your pajamas and plaited your hair for bed. Your cell phone rang then and as you glanced at it on your vanity you realized it was from Luci. You nearly fell out of your chair. The rings continued as you thought of what to say. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and answered the call.

“Hi Luci.”

“Hey y/n. I know it’s late, but I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sure you know; the nights are the longest.” He sounded tired and sadness tinged his words. You picked up your phone and ventured over to your bed. Laying down you set your phone on your chest as you stared at the ceiling listening to his voice.

“Yea I know about that all too well.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Luci.”

“Do you ever feel like no matter how hard you try you make everything worse?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do I really make everything worse?”

“You helped make me feel better. Didn’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Then no, you don’t make everything worse.” He let out a small sigh. There was silence for a long time. The only thing you could hear was his breathing trying to keep it together.

“It just feels like it. For centuries I’ve been stuck down here because I tried to give humanity free will. I tried to give them this gift to create and invent and live their lives in amazing, beautiful ways. But it backfired. They snatched what I gave them and threw it down the gutter.” He was speaking behind broken words at this point. The emotion in his voice threatening to break it.

“Luci that’s not your fault. You were doing something good. It’s not your fault the others didn’t agree.”

“Then there’s also Lilith. I thought we had something good. We had Charlie, a real family y/n, and then she left.” His voice wavered with every word. It was heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry she left, but you have Charlie and look at all the good she is doing. You made her for the better. “

“Yea I guess my daughter is pretty amazing.”

“I don’t know much about you and Lilith splitting, but anyone would be wrong to leave you. You deserve happiness even at your worst.”

“Thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

You both sat there listening to each other’s breaths. Waiting for the other to break the silence once again. He spoke up first.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything.”

“Can I give you a nickname? Like you gave me mine, Luci.” Your heart pounded in your chest. Friends can give each other nicknames, right?

“Seems only fair,” you spoke softly with a smile on your face.

“Duckling. Just like my best creation.”

“I love it.” Your heart was full, but ached at what you knew you needed to explain.

“Luci, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, my Duckling.” He sounded suave, confidence now in his voice.

“I need us to be just friends.” He sucked in a breath holding it across the line. There was silence for quite a while.

“I understand.” His voice was low now and cut off. The emotion gone. Had he become accustomed to shutting people out?

“Luci it’s not like that. I like you and I loved the time we spent together it’s just too fast. We barely know each other and there is turmoil between Hell and Heaven. I know it must be more than the extermination and I’m worried it’s going to be worse before it is better. Plus, the whole thing with Charlie, it’s a mess. But you’re my mess, together we’re this horrible pile of sin and lost hope. Just wait for me Luci, that’s all I ask of you.”

“Then I’ll be here waiting. Friends can still use nicknames, right?”

“Yes.”

“And talk over the phone late at night?”

“Sure.”

“Then tell me, what was Earth like?”

With that you and Luci talked for hours about anything and everything. From your music preferences to politics to even how high school was for you. He loved learning anything about humans. Thanks to him you all now could choose and oh how many choices did you have. You’re pretty sure any hobby you could think of you tried at least once. You told him about the instruments you played and art pieces you made. People you dated and people you hated. History was always so very interesting to you, and you relayed it to him in detail. Eventually it landed on the topic of religion and how Christianity seems more like a cult now then anything. He told you it had always been that way.

As the hours of the night ticked on, it became a good amount past midnight. You both were tired, but reeling on the energy you both gave each other. It was so nice to have someone to talk to again and bullshit with. He made you laugh, and he listened so very well. You would also ask him questions and you loved listening to his voice. This late at night it was a bit hoarse and husky as he spoke in a lower tone. He was tired that much was evident in his voice, but he also gave off other emotions. Those of adoration and love and home. Eventually his questions made an interesting turn towards your creative writing.

“So let me get this straight. People would write stories about fictional characters and then people like you would write completely different stories based on those characters?”

“Pretty much.”

“What did you write about?”

“Well of course it was mainly romance. I was such a sucker for fantasy romance. I wish I could get my hands on some here in Hell.”

“Romance. Interesting maybe I could give you some pointers here and there for another story. Totally platonic though.” You laughed out loud at the mischievous devil.

“That’s just like no homo.” You couldn’t stop laughing it was that bad.

“Just like what now.”

“I’ll tell you the story another time.”

“Alright Duckling. Let’s hear more about these stories. Come on I’m so interested!”

“Quite honestly these stories would be romance, and a good romance story needs to feel real. A.K.A most of them had sex. There’s something so carnal and intimate to it.”

“You know one of these days you’ll have to write me a story for me to read. I really want to see the genius at work.”

“Well, what do you want the story to be about?”

“I could just show you.”

“Now, now Luci. We’re friends, remember? You could just tell me.” He chuckled across the line and a blush crossed your face at your boldness. You are just friends! Friends can talk about these things, right? If you stay away from being physical with him it all should work out. You hoped.

“My story would start with a certain fallen angel and a beautiful sinner from his land.”

“That’s a good start. What else?”

“Well, he’d take her out to dinner, buy them an expensive bottle of wine to share, and chat about their daily happenings. As dinner would continue, he would stare into her beautiful eyes as he would knead her thigh under the table. She’d laugh and play it off with a blush crossing her face. At one point he would bring her hand up to his lips, kiss it, and tell her to slip off her panties. Hesitantly she would take them off, handing it to him under the table where he would hide them in his pocket.” His voice was laced with lust and made you tremble deep inside. Your deepest fantasies were coming to life with the sound of his words.

“And maybe on the way home this fallen angel would spread his wings and fly her across the city. She would hold onto him and whisper sweet nothings into his ears. When he would land, she would run her hands along his wings, daring him to keep them open.”

You could hear him struggling to keep it together on the other line. A small whimper left his mouth, and you wondered what he was doing. Wondered if you should do the same.

“He’d bring her inside, throwing her on his bed, taking in her beautiful form. His fingers would snap, burning off her clothing in angelic light. He’d use his tongue and lick over her neck and her breasts. Paying close attention to her nipples rolling them in his mouth. He’d kiss her deeply, running his tongue against her lips and nipping at her. His hands would run along her thighs, leaving little marks as his claws dug at her skin. She would be marked as his.”

Your breaths were matching his as you moved your own fingers to his imaginations. Soft moans rolled from both of your lips as you continued the story.

“She would wrap her arms around his neck, biting at the soft flesh there. She’d let him do whatever he wanted to her, and she left her legs open for his taking. She’d whimper and moan as he moved down towards her warmth gasping as he delved in. His tongue would roll between her folds, flicking up and down. Two of his fingers would explore and find the perfect spot and she would melt underneath his touch.”

“He’d take control then lifting her up from the bed. They’d find the nearest wall, pushing her up against it. He’d kiss her deeply as he lined up his shaft to her entrance. They would find a rhythm as she would wrap her legs around him. He would become undone. He would slow down and ease up, then increase speed and deepen the intimacy. At the end he would kiss her, mumbling intoxicating words as he wrapped his arms around her. She would hold onto him as if he was the air she needed to breathe. They would come together then, breathes slowing down as they listened to each other’s heart beating.”

In the end there was very little for you two to say. You were just friends but committed a dangerous sin. Neither of you cared but didn’t dare admit to it.

“Are we finished?” The man on the phone asked not wanting to face their consequences.

“I am, Luci.” You could swear you heard him let out a sigh of relief.

“Then that’s all that matters.” You rolled your eyes. This man never thought about himself.

“Are you as well?”

“When it comes to you, I don’t think I could ever have a different answer.”

Shortly after you two said your goodbyes, finally sated. An unspoken truth held in the air; you both knew nothing would ever be the same. You were spiraling down a fate you were afraid to face. You made a deal with the devil how could you think you would ever make it out alive.

For he was your Savior.

And you had a lot to repent.

[osleeplessflowero]

Previous Part🍪 First Part 🎃 💜Oneshot Masterpost💙

[*Notes!] - Context from the previous 3 parts is heavily recommended. Please go check those out! - Reader is gender neutral, They/Them pronouns are used by default. - CONTAINS: Swearing, Typical Haunted House Violence, Mutual Pining - ❕New Tagging Section! If you would like to be tagged when I update this or any other of my series, please let me know in the comments/reblog tags! I'm always happy to.

@xcryptk33p3rx

Fire crackles in the fireplace near the TV, keeping the living room warm against the cold November air outside. You furrow your brows in your sleep before fluttering your eyes open, glancing around in confusion before remembering you'd fallen asleep the night before. Briefly glancing upwards, you freeze when you spot Sans' sleeping face, feeling your own burn as heat rises to it.

Shit, you fell asleep on him! ..Well, he fell asleep too.. For a skeleton, his body's surprisingly pretty warm..cushioned, too. Perhaps it's some kind of magic? It's comforting, in any case. You lean on him a bit, not quite ready to get up yet.

Slowly but surely, Sans' eyesockets open. His single eyelight rests on you, and he feels his skull burn as a mix of red and blue spreads across it. Your gaze meets his, and your face burns a little more. His expression of shock soon shifts into a smile as he looks down at you, catching you off guard.

"..comfortable?" He grins, earning a playful shove from you as you sit up. He chuckles at that, sitting up a bit himself. Such a change in demeanor..you might not be the only one who's gotten more comfortable. And you're not too sure whether that's a good thing, or a bad thing..for your heart's sake.

"You're like a big ol' cushion over there. You're a skeleton, how can you be so soft? And warm? Aren't bones supposed to be cold?" You tilt your head as you wonder aloud, earning a shrug from the skeleton next to you.

"it's just magic. makes our bodies more fleshed out than they actually are. if i appeared as just regular ol' bones, my clothes would be a lot closer to 'em. want an example?" He raises a browbone, and you match his expression. It wouldn't hurt to find out..

"Yeah, sure, show me." You offer, resting your arms in your lap. He adjusts his jacket a bit, before pulling up his shirt. Sure enough, there's a faintly visible magical outline there, a mixture of two colors of magic making a typical stomach. The view flickers in and out, transparent. You can see his actual bones beneath them, still fairly large but not as much as the magic makes him. Huh, makes sense. A few seconds pass before you realize you've been staring for far too long, and you quickly avert your eyes.

"Oh.. so that's how. Cool." You smile sheepishly as he pulls his shirt back down, pausing for a moment when you feel heat rise back to your face. "Oh, uh, by the way.. I'm sorry for falling asleep on you like that. I didn't mean to overstay my welcome, and..y'know.." You rub the back of your neck, avoiding eye contact until you hear him chuckle.

"hey, don't worry about it. i don't mind. you're..welcome anytime." He averts his single eyelight, a hint of color making its way across his skull again before you both hear who is presumably Papyrus coming back downstairs. Once his tall, slender form makes it down, you give him a wave.

"Good Morning, You Two! Have A Good Rest?" He grins slyly, causing you both to flush even further before Sans waves him off as he enters the kitchen; leaving the door open so he can still hear you both.

"yeah yeah, it was good. mornin', paps." Sans coughs into his sleeve before getting up. "i've gotta get ready for work soon, so you two talk."

"Wait, where do you work? I mean, I know you had that haunted house on Halloween, but like..where do you work normally?" You rest your arms in your lap, genuinely curious.

"..i'm still a scare actor, i just move around. i do it full time." He looks back at you, raising a browbone amusedly at your surprised reaction.

"Oh, really? I didn't think you'd wanna do that full time. I was thinking like...I dunno..you worked at a pet shelter or something." You shrug, standing up to go get your coat and tie it around your waist since it's too warm to wear yet.

He lets out a laugh at that. "and let all of those traumatized dogs bark at me in fear or gnaw on my bones? yeah, i think i'll pass on that. not for me. i don't mind dogs though. they're fun little guys."

"When They're Not Stealing Your Attacks From Under Your Skeletal Equivalent Of A Nose, That Is!" Papyrus calls out from the kitchen, earning a confused look from you as you glance towards his brother for context.

"underground, there was this little white dog who would keep showing up to steal the bones paps would use in combat, so he'd have to chase it down. ever since he's been super..wary, around dogs, i guess. it's pretty funny. i wonder what happened to that little guy.." He mutters that last part to himself as he goes upstairs to get changed.

You stand still for a moment, thinking over that last statement. ..There are a lot of aspects about Sans that you don't fully know or understand yet. What happened Underground to mess monsterkind up so badly? Considering the state a lot of them were in when they came up..it must have been pretty damn bad. A part of you wonders how Sans and the others are taking being surfaced, after everything they'd gone through. Maybe someday when you're close enough, you can talk to him about it..learn some things.

Papyrus slowly slides his skull into the room from the doorway, raising a browbone at you as he observes how you're longingly staring up the stairs waiting for Sans to come back down. Once he clears his nonexistent throat, you tense in place before slowly turning and walking over to the kitchen to help him with breakfast. It's the least you could do for being allowed to stay over so late.

"I Fear I May Be Out Of Those Delightful Cookies You Baked By The End Of This Week, Would You Be Willing To Come Over To Visit Again Anytime Soon?" He glances over at you while mixing pancake batter quickly, a hopeful glint in his eyesockets. You huff amusedly, giving his shoulder a nudge.

"Of course, Paps. I'd be happy to come back anytime. Beats hanging out alone at my place." At Papyrus' hum of acknowledgement, you stare at the bowl while he's mixing it in anticipation for the pancakes he's going to make. "..What will you be up to today?"

"I'll Be Going On A Class Trip With Our Friend Aliza! You Might Know Of Her As The Monster Ambassador. We Became Well Acquainted Underground! ..Well, After A Few..Traumatic Experiences, But- What's A Few Traumatic Encounters Between Friends, Hmm?" He laughs awkwardly, continuing to stir before pouring the batter into a pan.

You raise a brow at that, before shrugging. Well, if she's willing to go on a trip with him, surely they must be on pretty good terms now. That's what matters.

Sans shortly comes down a bit later, wearing clothes smudged in fake blood and a few other practical effects minus the mask he'd been wearing when you met him. Papyrus shoos you both away to the table, where you sit patiently while waiting for him to finish.

"..So, uh..hooow would you feel if I tagged along to see you in action? I've only gotten to see you at work once, and that experience was kinda..well, y'know." You offer, earning a nod in reply.

"i don't mind. it's just one of your run-of-the-mill haunted houses. animatronics, actors, practical effects, the works. i doubt you'd be the type to get scared by too much anyway.." He rests his arms on the table. "wantin' to spend some extra time with me, huh?"

Your face flushes at his sly grin, and you wave him off.

"Well, yeah- I like your company, so.." You cross your arms. He blanks at that, a bit surprised that you didn't deny his attempt at teasing you. Heat rises to his skull, a mixture of red and blue giving his feelings away before quickly dying back down as Papyrus returns with the food.

You both don't say much while you eat unless Papyrus prompts you to, and eventually you're both on your way outside, waving goodbye to him.

"m'kay, just hold on. you might feel a little dizzy once we get there. do not let go of me until we're on solid ground." He warns you ominously, a serious look in his eyesockets as you quickly walk over to grab his arm. Within a few seconds, the world seems to flicker.

You glance around a dark, empty void, the two of you being the only signs of life within it. It's cold..eerily silent. You could only hear your own breathing and the faint hum of Sans' magic within the space. A chill goes down your spine, and your grip on him tightens a bit before you finally land on solid ground.

"..And you just..look at that every day?" You blink, before staggering a bit. He quickly loops an arm around your waist to keep you up so you won't fall. You feel your face flush a little again as you look over it..he has really strong arms. Big, too. He could practically engulf you in them.

"yep. careful now, don't want you falling." He smiles a bit, before helping you stand up straight and entering the decorated building. You quickly follow behind him, before stopping at the entrance.

"Hmm..wouldn't hurt to get the intended experience-" You mutter, before letting him go further in and paying a small admission fee, entering when instructed. This'll be fun! You're sure this'll be a breeze to get through.

As a sound effect plays to signal that it's time to enter, you walk in alone. You can't help but feel a sense of familiarity as you do, thinking back to the first time you met Sans in one of these. Only then you had your shitty ex boyfriend ruining your experience, now you can enjoy your time by yourself.

A few actors jump out here and there, earning light yelps and a laugh from you as you make your way past them. You don't seem to realize it as you're doing it, but..your eyes dart around in the hopes of finding a tall silhouette you've grown accustomed to, waiting somewhere in the darkness. You're sure he's around here somewhere, based on the screams you just heard up ahead.

You pick up your pace a bit before entering a room off to the side, jolting once you hear the door lock behind you. Ah, an escape room. Of course. Okay..time to find a way out of here. First thing's first..gotta check your surroundings.

With a sigh, Sans tugs on the mask over his skull while watching over a set of cameras. It's a normal procedure he has to go through to know when his cue to go out is, he usually doesn't linger for too long and waits for one of the other actors to give him a cue. But this time, well..this time was a little different.

You were here, so he couldn't help but watch you work your way around the escape room with a determined smile. The way you light up when you find a puzzle solution, rushing over to solve it and moving to the next swiftly. The way you hesitate to reach into a box of fake guts they made out of random solutions and slime, before your Bravery overtakes you and you grab another puzzle piece. He can't help but find it charming, leaning a bit on the desk beneath all the screens as he watches you move.

Then he pauses a second. Reflecting. Those feelings that had been eating away at him the day before resurface. ..Fondness, appreciation..admiration. Maybe something more, something he hasn't grasped just yet. He puts a hand where his teeth are, feeling his skull burn. His magic forms that familiar mixture of blue and red across his skull, hot enough to cause his mask to emit a faint glow before he calms himself down. He can't get distracted like this, he's working.

A sound cue plays since the others are out acting at the moment, and he moves to get in position behind a bookcase. He closes his eyesockets, listening to the sound of your heartbeat. A hunting skill he'd learned down Underground when hunting down prey that had carried over into his life on the surface. ..He doesn't typically use it for much anymore, aside from to tell how scared the people he's acting for are. It can be pretty amusing to him, listening to their heartbeats speeding up at the mere sight of him. And that's BEFORE he takes out the prop hatchet.

You lift a small note that hints to go to the bookcase to retrieve the key, rushing over and moving one of the books to grab it. As you do, the case begins to rumble before moving off to the side. There he stands, looming over you and covered in fake blood. A wide grin stretches across your face, and Sans can hear your heart rate pick up once you recognize him. ..It's..not from fear, though. You're smiling way too wide for that..

"..Hey." You point finger guns at him. It takes everything in him not to smile, stepping out from his space in the bookcase. "Come here often?"

"are you seriously hitting on a masked murderer right now?"

"It's totally a fear response, I swear-" You let out a little laugh as he scoffs, before raising up his prop hatchet into the air. Your smile dies down almost immediately.

"regardless.. i'm still on the clock. so i suggest you start running." A grin stretches across his skull beneath his mask as you book it out of the room, quickly unlocking the door with him chasing you out and down the following hallway.

A tension in the air picks up as you run, hearing his booming footsteps behind you in the darkness. Adrenaline rushes through you and you can't help but smile, letting out a few laughs as you make daring escapes. You're..doing the complete opposite of what one would expect in here. Sans finds that a bit more charming.

A few other actors jump out at you as you run before sliding into a room, Sans still right behind you. The door closes behind you both as you rush over to the other door to try and open it.

"..Wait, is this another escape room?-" You're cut off by Sans making his way over. As you turn to face him, you lean against the door a bit as he corners you. You both take heavy breaths from how much running you'd been doing, taking the opportunity to stare at each other. Is it getting hot in here?

He moves his prop hatchet over, lifting up your chin with the fake blade so you look at him. His mask had come a bit loose, allowing you to see his shining red eyelight just barely illuminating his face. ..And then he grins.

"caught ya."

A shiver goes down your spine, and you feel your face burn. Any response that comes out is incoherent, earning a chuckle from the skeleton before you as he moves the hatchet away. You move your hand up to where the blade had been pressed absentmindedly, staring for a second.

"..the key's on the table there. looks like you made it." You glance over, spotting the key to the door. Internally, you facepalm. Why didn't you see it when you rushed in here? Taking it in your hand, you unlock it as a sound effect plays to indicate you'd made it out.

"That was fun. Nice work, Sans." You smile up at the skeleton, who huffs amusedly in reply. "I'll have to see how it is behind the scenes next time."

"can't wait." He gives you a pat on the back as you start to make your way out. Glancing over, you notice a bit of color crossing his skull as he pulls his mask back down. Seems he's a bit flushed, too.

[winchesterszvonecek]

hii can i request “I’m not scared.” “Your face says otherwise.” from the autumn prompt list with mike dodds?🥺 yk like it's halloween season and the precinct gets a lead to some house but when they get there it's decorated like a haunted house (with jumpscares and stuff) so reader is jumpy and mike laughs at her at the time but afterwards he's worried and hugs her and they have a moment and there's fluff etc

Haunted House - [ Mike Dodds ]

Prompt: “I’m not scared.” “Your face says otherwise.”

Word Count: 4654

Warnings: female!reader, use of y/n, mentions of jump scares, brief mentions of dismembered limbs

A/N: this is my first Mike work so please be nice lol

Masterlist | Mike Masterlist

Ever since it fell abandoned back in the late 1800’s, the old Sunnydale Asylum had easily grown legend to many a spooky tale.

From sightings of disoriented patients still clad in their dirty, white gowns, and left to wander halls forever as ghostly apparitions seeking peace. To the spine tingling story of the doctor who once ran the hospital still eager to lobotomise anyone he deemed fit, the asylum had grown to be quite the destination for those with a thrill for scares.

In fact, it became so popular for tourists and city dwellers alike that on every Halloween since before you were born the owners would set up the most intense haunted house inside, leading those who were brave enough to enter on a terrifying, bloodcurdling journey throughout history.

“God, there is nothing sunny about this place,” You muttered, feeling easily unsettled as your eyes landed on the moulding, degrading sign of the asylum.  The very sight of the smiling sun above the name, sent a fierce shiver rippling down your spine and you ran your hands up and down your arms, following Mike reluctantly, yet quickly, down the path before he ended up too far away for comfort. 

You never would have come here willingly. You hated anything even remotely scary and a haunted asylum, filled with actors waiting to pop out on you, was the very last place you ever could have wished to spend your Halloween. You’d wanted to spend it at home, watching something light and fun, but unfortunately for you duty had called in the shape of a case and for some reason…For some, the universe hates me, what did I do to deserve this? Reason, it had led you straight to the very asylum that you never wanted to see with your own two eyes. 

“I hate this already,” You complained, tailing Mike towards the ticket booth that had a line way too long for your liking as who would ever put themselves in such a situation as this if not under threat of immediate death? “Why is this place even allowed to be open? I thought some guy died in it last year.” 

“He fell down the stairs,” Mike replied casually, glancing briefly towards you. “He wasn’t murdered by a ghost.” 

You scoffed, “Yeah, that you know of. But who’s to say a ghost didn’t push him?” 

Mike couldn’t help but chuckle at your dramatic nature as the two of you weaved your way through the crowds of people waiting for their turn inside, many of whom were actually dressed as asylum patients and had the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up already. 

Why, oh why, hadn’t you just gone to the landfill site with Carisi? 

“Excuse me,” Mike said as you approached the ticket counter, gaining the attention of the rather young looking man, dressed as an orderly, who sat behind it. “I’m Sergeant Dodds, this is Detective Y/L/N of the NYPD. We’re looking for a James Santos, we were told he works here.” 

With his mouth hanging open, the ticket guy said nothing for a split second before his reddened eyes widened in realisation and he nodded, “Oh, you mean Jimmy.” 

Okay, so he was high. Great. 

“Yeah, he works here,” The guy continued, yet he didn’t bother to elaborate further until Mike snapped him back into reality with a click of his fingers, startling the kid terribly and causing him to shuffle in his seat. “But, uh, he’s inside. He's one of the actors down in the South Wing… Look for the guy in the straight jacket and the muzzle.” 

“Muzzle?” Mike repeated, curious.

“Yeah, you know… Like Hannibal Lecter,” The guy said, watching as Mike narrowed his eyes a little before shaking his head and the whole thing off entirely. 

It was too late, too cold, and he was far too eager to close this case to bother dumbing himself down anymore by talking to a stoned twenty-something year old. 

“Is there any way you can get Jimmy out here?” Mike asked, yet to you it seemed more like an order than a question. Something you were extremely thankful for as you did not want to go inside there and have to look for a guy impersonating a cannibal.

“Sorry, dude, I wish I could help. But once they’re inside and in costume they’re off the grid as cellphones kinda ruin the vibe.” 

“Well, is there any other way for us to get inside?” You asked hopefully, as you were already twitching minutely at the faint screams you could hear from inside the asylum, therefore you didn’t even want to imagine what you might look like should you be forced to walk through them. “Maybe an unlocked fire exit somewhere?” 

“No, we keep all the fire exits locked from the outside to stop kids from sneaking in,” The ticket guy replied plainly, only tightening the thick rope building in your stomach as if kids weren’t allowed inside…then what the hell kind of horrors lay beyond those doors?

“What about a back door?” You questioned toughly, finding yourself in sudden interrogation mode from the fear you had over venturing inside. “This is an old asylum, there’s bound to be other entrances.” 

“Look, lady…”

“It’s detective,” Mike corrected harshly, his teeth gritted together so hard you were surprised he had any left. 

“Detective,” The ticket guy corrected nervously, his attitude easily shifting as he became all but sober under the weight of Mike’s heavy glare. Even you were taken aback by his sudden harshness, and if it hadn’t been for the gentle, yet brave, pat on the arm you gave him to help him relax, you were afraid he might have launched himself over the counter and supplied the haunted attraction with an extra body to display. “The only other door is all the way around back.” 

“Great,” You said happily, tapping the desk with your knuckles before stepping back. “We’ll go that way then, you mind showing us?”

“It’s a fifteen minute walk through the forest,” The guy added, his eyebrow raised questionably. “Are you sure you want to? I mean… I don’t know if you know this but there’s stories of those woods being haunted…” 

“We’re not walking through the woods,” Mike stated, causing the guy to snap his mouth shut instantly and look away. You did the opposite though, in that you twisted your neck so quickly to look up at him you could have starred as a special performance of Regan from The Exorcist. He saw you easily from the corner of his eye, your mouth gaped like a fish and your eyes hard. “What?” 

“I’m not going in there.” 

“Why?” Mike asked, puzzlement sitting deep in his features until they slowly began to loosen. You, yourself, stiffened, as a smile etched its way onto his face at the sudden realisation of exactly why you would rather walk around through woods than use the front door. “Wait a minute… Are you scared to go inside?” 

“What?” You chuckled delusionally, your tone an octave higher than usual as Mike studied you, nothing but an annoying doubt plastering his otherwise handsome face as he saw right through your facade. You drew your tongue awkwardly over your back teeth as you added, unconfidently, “I’m not scared.” 

“Really? Because your face says otherwise,” Mike replied bluntly, humorously, causing your aforementioned fear riddled face to shift instantly into a frown that he couldn’t help but find ridiculously adorable. He always loved seeing you get all riled up like this. 

“Fine, you wanna go in?” You asked, a newfound wave of bravery coursing through your veins at his obvious smugness. He nodded, his hands on his hips as you stared up at him, your arms folded and your stance firm. “Then let’s go in, sergeant.” 

“Happy to,” Mike said wittily, knowing damn well you did not want to go in and that you weren’t happy with him knowing it either…otherwise, you wouldn’t have called him sergeant. He stepped aside, dropping his hands and motioning for you to go first as a smug smirk rose to his lips, “After you, detective.” 

A disgruntled huff left your nose as you strolled past him, keeping your shoulders high as you put on a brave face in hopes that he couldn’t tell how truly scared you were to go inside. Which wasn’t much, you know, your bones just practically shook beneath your skin as you ascended the steps. Each flickering light that caught your eye or ear piercing scream that met your ears caused your stomach to lurch inside you and if you weren’t careful, it was likely going to force its way up and land in front of you, but other than that you were just peachy. 

“Well, good luck,” The ticket guy called cheerfully after you, causing you to almost spin back around and arrest him. 

However, luckily for him and tragically for you, Mike’s large frame following behind you easily stopped you from turning around, meaning you had no choice but to carry on towards the building. You already felt uneasy. From the mere sight alone of the large double doors that were peeling away and rusty, you knew that what lay beyond was going to be ten times worse than what was outside.

Nevertheless you carried on, reaching the top of the steps far quicker than you’d have liked. You lifted your shaking hand reluctantly, curling it around the handle and sucking in a sickly breath as you mustered up all the courage you had in you to push it open. You could feel Mike lingering behind you, the heat of his body so close to your own yet it didn’t allow you to feel nearly as much comfort as it might have done, not with the horror that stood beyond the door you still hadn’t opened. 

“Oh, you are so scared,” Mike laughed, nudging you playfully with his elbow and finding even more amusement when you shoved him away to the other side of the step. “Do you want me to open it?” 

“No,” You replied, your word a little choked that it caused you to clear your throat roughly. “No. I can do it.” 

You heard Mike hum sceptically as he retreated back to you, yet he did nothing. He just lingered beside you patiently, watching as your focus grew distant and you forced the fear to momentarily leave your mind just long enough to allow you to power through. You took a deep breath, pushing open the heavy door as the air left your lungs in a shudder. 

God, you were already regretting this. From the eerily wailing sound of the hinges creaking open, and the pitch black darkness that engulfed you from the second you stepped across the threshold, you knew this was a bad idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle. But at the same time, you were also stubborn. You didn’t want Mike to win…whatever game it was that you two were playing and even if you hadn’t you still wouldn’t have been able to turn around, not when Mike had already closed the door behind him and was now hidden…somewhere amongst the shadows around you.

You couldn’t sense him. You couldn’t hear him, not with how hard your heart was pounding inside your chest and all the way up to your ears. You couldn’t even feel his usual presence around you either and that worried you. It terrified you, rather, as if there was one thing worse than being in a haunted asylum…it was being in one alone after Mike decided to be a dick and stay outside. 

“Dodds?” You whispered, swallowing thickly at the echo of creepy laughter that swept through the room around you. 

Against your better judgement you then stepped further into the foyer, hoping that at least hearing Mike’s footsteps follow you in would give you a general sense as to his position. But when you heard nothing, not a single peep besides distant screams of those further inside, you began to sweat…Both from your body, and from your eyes.

“Mike, I’m serious,” You said…seriously, and both of you could tell you were as you’d never once had you called him by his first name. “Where are you? This isn’t funny.” 

At the moment a hand clasped onto your shoulder and made you jump so hard you might have cried had Mike not appeared from within the darkness, a knowing, amused, smile tugging at his lips, “Come on, it’s a little funny.” 

“God, you’re such a dick sometimes,” You muttered bluntly, a very real anger towards him building inside you as you shrugged out from under his hand. 

Only, when you went to walk away from him to emphasise that you were huffing with him and would rather go alone, a skeleton swung down from the ceiling right in front of you. You screamed, your heart leaping in your chest as you stumbled back, feeling the firmness of Mike’s chest behind you as he caught you, his hands holding your outer arms gently before you ended up tripping over your own eagerness to run.  

“So, you’re not scared, huh?” He whispered tauntingly into your ear, causing an entirely different sensation to tingle down your spine. You shrugged out from within his grasp again and stepped away, hearing a pleased chuckle leaving his lips as he followed suit and placed his hand back on your shoulder. Only this time, as a way of comfort. “Come on, I promise I’ll keep you safe.” 

With a reluctant, heavy sigh you nodded and allowed him to lead the way as you mumbled, “Great, just a fun trip into an asylum to get killed.” 

Mike laughed, “We’re not gonna get killed.” 

“Maimed.” 

“Y/N/N.”

“Stabbed.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Beaten.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Burned.” 

“Y/N.” 

“What?” You said innocently, watching as Mike struggled to hide his smile at your incessant rambles of the danger that would likely never succumb to you in here. He kept quiet though, as no matter what he said to you about you being perfectly safe with him, he knew it wouldn’t sink into your stubborn mind until you were back in the true safety of the precinct. 

Instead, he simply continued to lead you further into the asylum, constantly checking to make sure you hadn’t passed out behind him each time an actor jumped out to try and startle you both. He was fine with it, a small twitch of his shoulders every now and then but you… You hated every single minute of it. 

It didn’t matter that Mike was at the front and was the primary target of the scare, you still seemed to take the full brunt of it and each time a disturbing, how did he even manage to make himself look like that? actor would pop out from within a locker or lunge out from behind a door, you would scream like a little kid and lurch forward to cling to Mike’s arm. Not that he minded, though. He kind of liked having you this close to him, and each time he’d feel your face press against his bicep as you hid it from view, his heart would literally skip a beat. 

However, as the two of you delved further into the asylum and had yet to come across another jumpscare actor in the last five minutes, you grew uneasy and on edge, and because of that, you did something Mike wasn’t the least bit prepared for… Nor did he even know how to react when you did. 

“Y/N,” Mike said quietly, almost nervously. He heard you hum from next to him, your pitch a lot higher than it should be as he came to a slow stop. You glanced up at him questionably, your eyebrow raised where his was dipped and the way he kept dropping his gaze between your bodies only heightened your sense of intrigue, and so with a partial widened of your eyes you urged him to speak his words. Something you’d regret the second they slipped past his lips. “You’re uh… You’re holding my hand.” 

With your face dropping, you instantly snatched your hand back and looked away from him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as your stomach began to flutter furiously. Oh God, you hadn’t meant to do that. You hadn’t meant to… Shit. You’d only meant to take a subtle hold of the cuff of his jacket with your fingers just to make sure you didn’t get separated, but you were literally so scared of something popping out in front of you that you held his hand.  

“Sorry,” You mumbled, tugging your sleeves down over your hands as you sucked in a shaky breath and tried to force yourself to look back at him. 

You didn’t want to, not by a long shot. You didn’t want to see the cringed look in his eyes over having you hold his hand but you knew you had to. Not only did you want to keep what remaining dignity you had left but you had a job to do and you literally couldn’t stomach where your eyes were facing now… as there was a concerningly realistic decapitated head sitting in a pool of blood next to you and it was making you want to reach out and take Mike’s damn hand again.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mike replied as casually as he could, watching as you turned around and smiled at him…a proper, genuine smile that could strike a man smitten had he not been so already. He could have kissed you. Hell, he was going to, had he not spotted the opportunity of a lifetime sitting just off to his right. “I get that these things can be scary and if you really want a hand to hold, I’d be more than happy to provide you with my own.” 

With your heart literally skipping beats inside your chest, you were about to happily take him up on the offer before he slowly raised a severed hand, wiping your smile away far quicker than it had formed. 

“Or if you’d rather… I can offer you this one instead,” Mike said, rolling his lips as he struggled to not laugh at his own cheesy joke. 

You simply deadpanned him, folding your arms across your chest and refusing to even acknowledge the hand he held out towards you.

“Oh come on, lighten up…” Mike chuckled, wiggling the hand a little to gain your attention — which failed. “It’s funny.” 

“You and I have very different definitions of the word funny,” You muttered, spinning on your heels and deciding to venture further into the asylum by yourself. 

You made it a few steps before you heard a soft thud from behind you, no doubt from Mike tossing the hand aside as it was quickly followed by his hurried footsteps as he caught up to you. He fell in line with you easily, continuously peering at you out of the corner of his eye and when you kept glancing around you anxiously with one hand placed firmly on your churning stomach and the other hanging loosely by your side, he reached out his own and slipped it back into yours without so much as saying a word. 

The two of you stayed like that, with your hands clasped firmly together and your chests fluttering furiously beneath your skin, until you finally reached the room you needed to be in — the operating room. It was basic. As stereotypical as any hospital room in any horror movie could be but there was something about the lonely hand trolley that stood in the middle of the room, with a single man dressed like Hannibal Lecter strapped to it, that very deeply unsettled you.

“This is not a good use of this room,” You whispered, hearing a brief, almost amused…maybe, breath leave Mike’s nose as he slipped his hand out from yours and approached the Hannibal wannabe. 

You stayed behind, not wanting to go anywhere near him just yet until it had been established that they were not there for the scares, and were in fact cops who were investigating a brutal double homicide…Otherwise you simply wouldn’t have been there in the first place. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, as Mike came strolling back over to you with a deep look of guilt sitting heavy on his face. 

“That’s not him,” Mike said, swallowing thickly as he had no idea how you’d react to the news. You squinted questionably, prompting him to elaborate even further. “That uh, that’s not James.” 

“What do you mean? He’s the only guy in this whole place dressed like that!” You exclaimed, gesturing angrily towards the guy who had better turn into James before you got a hold of him. 

“They swapped shifts,” Mike explained, placing his hands on your shoulders to gain your attention and feeling as they rose rapidly beneath them. “James was never here.” 

With a frustrated groan, you shoved Mike’s hands away from you and made for the exit. He followed after you swiftly, jumping more at the way the door banged against the wall as you threw it open than he did at the countless horror actors who’d just spent the last twenty minutes popping out at him.  

“You’re telling me that I just went through all that…” You pointed furiously towards the asylum as your turned in the dirt with so much pressure put on your heels, that it made little dents in the dirt. “And the guy wasn’t even fucking in there!” 

“Wow, hey…” Mike exhaled, taken aback by your sudden swearing as he approached you carefully, your hands on your hips and your chest heaving with every breath you took. 

At first, he thought it was from nothing more than anger at the entire situation. Having your Halloween ruined by work… Having to drive here so late at night… Having to venture through a ridiculously cheesy haunted house set up in an otherwise creepy asylum, but the closer he got to you… the moment he saw the first glisten of the moonlight in the fresh tears that brewed in your eyes, the more he came to realise that you weren’t angry. 

No… You were scared. You were really, truly terrified that whole time and he had no idea. He thought… He thought you were just messing around. He thought it was all a game, but he literally couldn’t have been farther from the truth and honestly, it made him feel like such a dick for all but making fun of you for it. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N” Mike said softly, his lips pressing together regretfully as he closed the gap between you, his brow pinched together with worry. “I had no idea, I thought… I thought you were just messing around. I didn’t…”

“It’s okay,” You sniffled, feeling like such a pathetic child for almost crying over a stupid haunted house. “You didn’t know. You… It’s fine. Really, Mike, I’m okay now.” 

“Are you though?” Mike questioned doubtfully, watching as you nodded your head with uncertainty a few times… before shifting and immediately shaking it as you were not okay. Not by a long shot. He then raised his hands and cupped your face instantly, his heart warming at how easily you seemed to relax under such a small gesture. 

At that immense softness that shrouded your features as you smiled tearfully up at him, Mike couldn’t stop himself from dropping his hands and pulling you into the safety his arms, allowing you to feel as they wrapped around you so tightly…so comfortingly that the last twenty minutes became nothing but a distant thought in your mind. Your own slipped under the warmth of his jacket and around his waist, holding him equally as tight and as close to you as you could as you all but melted against him.

You weren’t aware of just how long he held you like that. Time seemed to tick idly by without you having so much as a care in the world, not when you were here in his arms where he allowed every ounce of fear and worry to leave you entirely. It was strange… Unrealistic almost, how one simple touch from one specific person could make you feel so much better than ever thought possible. But he did. Mike made you feel better. He made you feel safe…like nothing would ever happen to you again and it was because of that…because of that sudden realisation that kicked in in your mind that you did what you did next. 

When he inevitably pulled back from you, just enough for him to glance down at you, you slipped your hands out from around him and curled your fingers tightly around the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer to your face so that you could do the one thing you’d been dying to do for weeks, and might never have found the courage to had he not hugged you. 

You kissed him. 

You pressed your lips so tenderly, so sweetly against his own that his knees almost gave out from under him even despite how quick the moment had come and gone. But it was slow enough to get Mike going and he steadied himself easily, his arm slipping securely around your waist as he brought you closer to him. You could already feel your heart racing as he placed one hand on the side of your neck and brought you towards him, his lips crashing against yours in a way that had you seeing stars, and not those that you could see in the sky just above him. 

You tightened your hold on the front of his jacket to keep him close to you, feeling the way his hand slid slowly round to the back of your head where his fingers began to weave their way through your hair as he cradled it. His tongue traced eagerly over your bottom lip as he did so, pushing them apart as it delved deep into your mouth, causing such sweet sounding hums to leave the back of your throat as he easily deepened the long, overdue kiss that the two of you never wanted to end.

“God,” Mike breathed out, when the two of you inevitably had to pull apart due to a stupid thing called oxygen, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

“There was nothing stopping you, sergeant,” You said flirtatiously, dragging your bottom lip through your teeth as there was nothing causing you to be shy anymore. Not when he’d just stuck his tongue down your throat and answered all the lingering questions you could ever have about whether or not he’d have ever liked you back. “You could have kissed me like that any time you liked.” 

Mike chuckled, drawing his thumb down the softness of your kiss swollen lips, “I don’t think the guys would have liked seeing me kiss you like that in the middle of the squad room.” 

“Maybe not,” You murmured humorously, leaning up to press another gentle kiss to his lips. “But then again, we’ve all seen worse.” 

“True,” Mike replied, pecking another kiss to your mouth as it curled against him. “But I’d rather not have the whole team watching us as we did.” 

“You’d rather have an asylum full of freaks instead?” You questioned, your eyebrow raised playfully as Mike glanced towards the building and shrugged. 

“If that’s what it takes,” He said, drawing his eyes back to you and trailing his knuckles down the side of your face. “As after all…had it not been for that asylum full of freaks then I might have had to wait a whole other year for sometime to scare you badly enough to make you kiss me.”

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[autistichalsin]

A while back, one of my mutuals on Twitter posted a get to know your Tav/Durge game, which I did for both Kiaran and Taviana. However, I realized I never shared it here, and I wanted to do so now!

1. Taviana- she/her, human Bard, Entertainer background, chaotic good alignment

Kiaran- he/him, half-Drow Ranger, Haunted One background, initially chaotic evil alignment, then chaotic neutral, then chaotic good

2. Taviana- she was grocery shopping for her family. The picture of normality (a recurring them in her and Astarion's story is that she is almost infuriatingly NORMAL aside from the tadpole).

Kiaran- the same as other Durges; he was experimented on by Kressa, then sent away by Magthew.

3. Taviana- I'm not very far into her playthrough, but it will be Astarion solo for canon. Noncanon may include Halsin and the Drow twins.

Kiaran- Halsin solomance. The Drow twins and Abdirak as flings, and pre-canon Gortash. Noncanon experimenting w/ Haarlep but it didn't work, which is why it's not canon.

4. Taviana- Astarion excluded, she's closest to Wyll, and she struggles with Lae'zel.

Kiaran- Halsin excluded, he's closest to Karlach, and struggles with Gale.

5. Taviana- not sure, since I haven't gotten far. Since I headcanon her and Kiaran both existing together, she likely would have lost Alfira or Quill as well, which would crush her, I think.

Kiaran- Alfira (though I might change this to Quill) and Lae'zel, though I don't consider the latter canon. He's indifferent at first, more worried about the fact that he killed in his sleep than the victim themself, but he is sad when he turns good later and starts to feel the empathy that was missing.

6. Taviana- Taviana convinces Astarion, who is a spawn, to live with her in Baldur's Gate while Astarion's 'siblings' care for the spawn in the Underdark.

Kiaran- Living with Halsin in his commune, and getting Halsin pregnant with TONS more Silverboughs.

7. Taviana- Yes! She has a huge, boring, normal family, and you best believe they pester her and Astarion to come over for weekend dinners. Hilarity ensues. She is infuriatingly normal and Astarion doesn't know how to react.

Kiaran- no :( But I do have a fic planned of him trying to resurrect his foster family and trying to make amends.

8. Taviana- She loves using Bardic Inspiration to help heal and reenergize her teammates. She doesn't enjoy fighting, so getting to help in other ways cheers her up.

Kiaran- He loves using his abilities as a Ranger against their enemies. He feels alive, like he's indulging his animalistic Dark Urge instincts without harming an innocent. It's something Halsin can relate to well.

9. Taviana- Helping Astarion kill Cazador but convincing him to stay a spawn, finally showing him that he can be something entirely undefined by Cazador. That was the moment she knew Astarion had finally found himself.

Kiaran- Resisting Bhaal and freeing himself of his Urge once and for all, finally being able to rest easy with the knowledge he would never harm Halsin.

10. Taviana- She loves purple, so anything purple makes her happy as a clam!

Kiaran- Not really. Kiaran dresses for comfort and utility, like Halsin, so as long as he has something practical, he's set.

11. Taviana- she loved returning to Baldur's Gate because it brought her closer to her family, though she ultimately decided not to reach out to them until after the brain. (She was afraid of scaring her little siblings.)

Kiaran- He loved the Shadow-Cursed Lands, not for what it was obviously, but for what happened there, because he got to help Halsin save Thaniel and Oliver and cure the land.

12. Taviana- Never considered it. She may be innocent but she knows enough to know the house always wins.

Kiaran- VERY briefly considered it, but came back to his senses soon enough to realize whatever Raphael was offering, they could accomplish themselves.

13. Taviana- Her family are all Lathanderites. She isn't quite as devout as them, but definitely considers him her main deity.

Kiaran- Not devoutly, though he does pray to Mielikki before/during missions as a Ranger, and becomes Jergal's Chosen during/after canon. He starts to see the importance of some of Jergal's goals, such as recording the names of the dead (this is how he learns who he killed so he can remember them, after all) but doesn't devote himself enough to be truly called a worshipper. But old Withers is rather over it by that point, so he doesn't really ask much more from Kiaran aside from doing what he can to remember the dead.

14. Taviana- Living with her family in Baldur's Gate, figuring herself out as a Bard. She was close to lining up a few gigs, but nothing big enough to distinguish herself.

Kiaran- Murderhobo Durgey stuff, using his Ranger abilities to kill more effectively.

15. Taviana- Alfira/Quill, and Milil in the epilogue, of course!

Kiaran- Oliver. He understood Oliver almost perfectly, and was able to use that to persuade him to return to Thaniel.

[rocksibblingsau]

what’s something about the fic that you wanna share but don’t think you’ll get a chance too?

Some deleted/rewritten scenes!

One of the first scenes I envisioned was a scene of Barb singing Seven Nation Army (in regards to Branch having worries about Trolls not liking him and her reassuring him she'd fight anyone off who did), but I had Branch reveal his trauma pretty earlier on once I started writing and Barb choosing to sing a song would have been massively out of character.

The initial plan for Branch getting his headphones from Riff actually took place in the upper bowl, and would have also been when Branch met Sid, but I changed it to the coffee scene simply because it worked better.

An earlier concept of Chapter 8 had Barb gifting Branch Bobo, but to be honest Branch wouldn't have liked Bobo so he got a new plushie. I also briefly considered the idea of Branch accidentally ripping Bobo, but to be honest Bobo is so destroyed that how could you even tell if you did rip him.

There was a scrapped concept between chapters 9 and 10 that would have had him spending time and watching wrestling on TV, but that was reworked into him watching it live during their special day.

In chapters 11/12, I briefly considered Billy being the one to find Branch on behalf of Barb, but decided to have Barb find him, have a fight with him and then send Billy in.

The nickname 'Twigs' just randomly came to me and wasn't planned, but once I came up with it I wanted to make it their thing.

In chapter 14, I was torn between laser tag and bumper cars but settled on laser tag. I'm happy I did because I don't think bumper cars would have been as special or interesting, and now Branch has a thing he's good at. I also debated who the teams should have been for awhile.

In chapter 15 Branch wasn't originally going to break the CD player, and Demo would have checked over his work, but it felt more in character to me that Branch might have a more violent reaction.

In chapter 19 there was going to be a scene where a large spray of lava was going to hit Barb and Branch, and Barb would toss Branch to Sid to keep him from getting submerged. I realized half way through writing that scene that it was too close to Branch being pushed by his grandma and would more than likely have caused Branch a panic attack, and that chapter was meant to be cute so I cut the scene entirely.

Raff's personality was initially kinda different. She was a more anxious person, with a bit of a defeatist attitude. Canonically that's what she used to be like, before she got therapy.

Branch's revelation about Cooper at one point was planned for when he met Prince D, but I moved it to coming about thanks to therapy.

I cannot stress how last minute Dickory was. Part of why I added him is because Poppy's story was actually kind of depressing without him.

Before I made the plan for the haunted house to go poorly, Branch was going to go to the carnival where there would have been yet another Spider tease.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Hi I just finished reading the steve harrington x reader imagine where its their one year anniversary and reader finds out about the bet, I was wondering if you could maybe do a 2nd part where Steve somehow finds a way to win reader back and decide to still be bf and girlfriend rather than start all over again and steve asks reader out officially (since he asked her out bc of a bet originally) and they have their date where he reasks her to be his gf, then time skip to where its their 2 year anniversary and he proposes🤍

I got so carried away....oops? Over 4k words

I didn't get into the propose but I totally can if anyone wants me to! I hope you enjoy and it was worth the wait, I am thinking of making an alternative version of this where the reader doesn't take him back, if you want tagged lmk!

Steve was not the same without you. Anyone and everyone could tell. He showed up late to work, never talked to the customers, and he hasn't spoken to Robin, Nancy, or anyone from the group for that matter. He just wanted to disappear into his bed and never be discovered.

However, just because he was in his bed didn't mean he slept. No, he hasn't slept since you left, and if he did, it was for minutes at a time. Instead of sleeping, he just stared. Stared at your side of the bed, stared at pictures of you two together, stared at the ring that haunted him. All he could do was stare.

You weren't doing any better. You didn't just lose Steve but you lost your best friends too, being betrayed by your boyfriend hurt but being betrayed by who you considered the closest friends in your life hurt you the most. You couldn't bring yourself to reach out, anytime the phone rang you just let it ring, anytime there was a knock on the door you just waited under mounds of blankets for the person to leave. Everyone was concerned for the two of you but no one knew how to help, that is until Dustin went and forced Steve to get out of bed. For a 15 year old Dustin was surprisingly strong, Steve found this out when he was dragged out of his bed and into the shower. "You are showering. You are going to make yourself presentable and you are going to go talk to her. At least make sure she's still breathing." Dustin rolls his eyes but he misses how Steve's breathing got caught in his throat hearing that you weren't doing well, even if Dustin just briefly mentioned it.

Steve didn't care about himself, he lost you and that ended with him losing himself, but he never stopped caring about you. He rushed through the shower and hurried to get presentable once again before dragging his ass to the car and headed to your house after making a quick stop to the flower shop. The entire ride to your house he gave himself multiple pep-talks. "I'm a douche....this is noticeable, everyone can see that but" he sighs softly and shakes his head as he feels tears starting to form, "But with you...god y/n with you I wanted to be better. I will be better for you, I want to be the man you deserve even if I can never achieve that. Fuck maybe I'm just selfish...I definitely don't deserve you, no one...no one deserves an angel like you." When Steve pulls into your driveway tears are falling freely down his cheeks, he gets out of the car and grabs the flowers he bought you while choking back sobs. He doesn't bother knocking, if what Dustin told him he knows you won't bother answering the door. Even though you've been apart for weeks now he still has keys to your place so technically....not breaking and entering???

He softly walks through your home trying not to disturb anything, not wanting to taint anything more than he already has. He is in front of your bedroom door much quicker than he was prepared, the door was already opened and the sight before him destroyed his already broken heart. In front of him was the love of his life, under mounds of blankets with the only evidence of life being the slow rise and fall of the blankets.

"Oh princess..." he softly speaks breaking the silence. You jump slightly, blankets falling off your figure, at the sound of a familiar voice, a haunting voice. "Steve...." Your voice creaks and your sight blurs, sitting up straight you feel your breathing stop at the sight of the man before you. Even though he tried his hardest to look presentable for your presence he was still a clear mess. His hair was disheveled, his cheeks were blotchy and eyes bright red. He walks to your side slowly as if he was approaching an injured animal, "Princess I..." His voice cracks and lip quivers as a sob wins the fight he was trying to win. "I am so sorry! I-I never...never meant for this to happen, never fuck i never wanted to hurt you. I was going to tell you but everything was going so well I just didn't want to lose you" Your throat gets tight and begins to burn as you fight the tears that were determined to fall. "Steve I...I loved you."

Loved....Loved....past tense....loved

"No....baby no not loved... I love you. I love you. How can I fix this? There has to be a way to fix this I...fuck I can't lose you forever. This might have started as a bet but my love for you was never apart of it. I've never loved someone as much as I love you"

A scoff and an eye roll is what he's met with, causing him to panic even more at the thought of never having you in his life again. But then you move closer to him and you take the flowers from his hands. "We can try to start over..." You whispered softly

----Time skip-----

It's been two years since the break up, it's been two years since starting over. And things had never been better, Steve never wanted to lose you and tonight he's hoping that he can assure that you'll be his forever with a ring on your left hand.

Tagging: @emmyshortcake @succubusmunson @bloodthirstybreedingbunny @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @keerysfolklore @eddiesguitarskills @mystargirl-interlude @lofaewrites @sweet-villain

[effloradox]

Forehead kisses with Thomas Thorne?

I am not immune to the urge to give this man a kiss on the forehead 🥺

Also I combined this with a request asking for Thomas with the prompt ‘I thought you’d like some company’, I think it fit quite well!

Life in Button House was almost always the same no matter the day. You’d only been a resident of the house for a few years after a rather nasty accident on the grounds but you tried to make the best of your living situation (if you’ll excuse the obvious flaws with the expression). The other residents had been quick to welcome you into their daily routines and with time you got used to everyone’s quirks. Eventually you could ignore Lady Button screaming as she fell out of a window every night and you got used to things like Julian’s crassness and Kitty’s eagerness.

You hadn’t believed in life after death in your previous life so the last thing you’d expected was to fall in love during your unexpected afterlife. Thomas had been so shy when you first died; he’d barely been able to string a sentence together in your presence, so different from the poet that waxed lyrically every moment he was able to that you’re used to now. You’d managed to do many things during your life but true love seemed to have evaded you until after your death. It hadn’t taken long for you to fall in love with Thomas, and it had taken him even less time. Waking up next to him had become part of your daily routine so easily that you now couldn’t imagine him not being there with you every morning.

Things hadn’t changed much in the weeks since Heather passed until a new car had pulled up on the driveway of the house, and with it some new living residents. The new owners had put most of the others on edge though, that much was clear. You’d overheard some of their plans for the house and they made a lot of sense to you, some of them had been things you’d briefly mentioned before you’d died; but to some of the others the suggestions had been an affront. Thomas had seemed particularly upset about the mention that the library be repurposed into a recreation room; he'd disappeared not long after hearing that.

You’d given Thomas his space initially but after a few hours without his presence you’d set about looking for him. You’d checked all his usual haunts, leaving his sighing place until last in the hopes that his mood hadn’t dropped to that resort. You weren’t particularly surprised to find him there if you were being honest with yourself but it pained you to know that it was troubling him to that extent. You poked your head through the door, watching him for a moment before stepping through the door. You’d been about to announce your presence when the man in question had turned quite unexpectedly, letting out a small shriek when he spotted you.

“Good lord!”

“Sorry!” His expression softened towards you once he’d calmed down, panic no longer evident on his face.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I thought you’d like some company?”

“From you? Always, my love.” You appeared at his side in an instant, his arm wrapping around your waist automatically. It doesn’t take long until you’re settled in his lap, both of you watching the new residents moving things out of their car.

“The others have a plan to try and scare the new owners away.” Thomas let out a soft noise to acknowledge your comment, his eyes still trained on the new couple. “Julian’s practising moving things with his ability to see if he can unnerve them.”

“And you?”

You hadn’t thought much of your phone being on your person when you died, whilst you still have it it’s not like you can use it for much. Just making notes, taking scenic pictures, and playing the few games you had downloaded that work without an internet connection. What it had left you with was an ability similar to Robin’s wherein you could mess with electronic devices to a certain degree. It would definitely be a useful skill if you decided you wanted the couple gone. You'd heard Julian mention it when they’d been plotting to scare the living away and it had been part of why you left to go and find Thomas.

“I understand why them being here upsets some of the others, and that some of their plans have upset you. But, I don’t think it’s such a bad thing. Wouldn’t it be nice if they did make the house look good again?”

“I suppose.” You can hear the uncertainty in Thomas’ tone and it’s all you can do to press a soft kiss to his forehead. The effect is instantaneous as you practically felt the tension seep out of his body, the frown lines you'd kissed disappearing in seconds. The two of you remain on the windowsill until you hear Julian shouting your name from somewhere in the house, no doubt to enlist you into trying to scare the new couple. You begrudgingly lift yourself from Thomas’ lap, taking one of his hands in yours as you move to walk towards the door.

“Come with me?” You can see in his eyes that he doesn’t want to, but he stands anyway and you can’t resist the urge to lift your entwined hands to place a kiss on his hand. The tender gesture turns him bashful as he struggles to make eye contact with you. It takes a moment for him to compose himself and you watch as he seems to steel himself before he speaks.

“Being your slave, what should I do but tend upon the hours, and times of your desire?” It takes you a moment to place his words, you’re sure you’ve heard them before and it takes your brain a few seconds to connect them to who wrote them.

“Shakespeare?” You know you’ve guessed correctly when Thomas’ face lights up like the sun. His smile is one of your favourite things about him, it never fails to make your heart flutter and this time is no exception.

“Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind; still constant in a wondrous excellence.” It’s Thomas’ turn to lift your hands as he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Nothing good can last forever though. The moment is ruined when you hear a frustrated sounding Julian shouting your name once again, only this time he sounds infinitely closer. You can’t help but sigh with frustration at the interruption.

“Let’s go and find the others shall we?”

“Lead the way my dear.”

[fuctacles]

Here's an excerpt from chapter 2, chapter 3 will be posted later today :) once again, dividers by @penny00dreadful, beta @dragoon-ze-great | read on Ao3

After a walk around the overgrown backyard, and strolling down the musty hallway, it hits Steve, that all of this belongs to him.

He owns a house. 

He's been vague with Robin about his decision for the past two weeks, dodging questions while packing his life into boxes and wrapping things up with their old landlord. Maybe in some way, he wanted to prove he could do it by himself, no world-saving party needed. The urge to spill it all to his best friend had been eating him from the inside, and now he could finally give in. 

He rushes to the phone to dial the number he has memorized, regardless of the early morning hour, but when he puts the receiver to his ear, he doesn't hear the dial tone.

He jabs the numbers anyway but puts it back on the cradles when nothing happens. The landline was supposed to be set up for his arrival, and while it is an inconvenience, he doesn't let it piss on his mood. He fixes himself a quick breakfast and starts the list of groceries and necessities he's missing. Add's 'contact the phone guys' at the bottom. Tucking the notepad into his pocket, he climbs upstairs to start his journey in house flipping.

After opening the windows to let in some fresh air, he removes the paintings, deciding to relocate them to the library, where their fantasy theme would be more fitting. Maybe he'll find something more to his tastes, so he could leave the nails in and simply replace them. With a sudden thought, he pulls out the notepad to add nails to the list. He should have some simple tools in one of the boxes and get whatever will be needed as he goes. 

The walls used to be a dark burgundy color, as the squares revealed by the paintings would suggest. Steve never gave much thought to what color he'd like his bedroom to be and Robin would kill him if he decided without her. He refrains from adding paint to the list and writes down ' contact Robin ' instead. 

He likes the canopy and manages to take it down gently to wash it later. 

laundry soap

look for a lighter bed canopy (white?)

His first and obvious thought is to throw the bedding away, but upon touching the fabric, he can't bring himself to do so. It goes into the laundry pile along with the canopy, because while the dark colors may not be his thing, sleeping in silky smooth sheets certainly could be.

The shelves are mostly empty, and he'd need a box to put the few items away, so he rolls the round black carpet, puts cleaning supplies on his list, and walks to the laundry room. 

The machine seems to be in working condition, but he won't know until he actually attempts to wash something so he leaves the sheets there and takes a lazy stroll around the house to put down anything else he might need. When he goes to close the bedroom windows, his fingers catch on a remais of a cobweb. He shakes his hand in distaste and gets a better look at the window screen. It's old but seems to be holding up well.

He remembers the amount of bugs he'd encounter on camping trips and writes down 'bug spray, check the screens'. 

He should have expected the loud, undignified screech that shakes his eardrums. But all he can do now is appease his friend.

"I promise I'm only buying necessities to clean up and fix whatever needs fixing. The porch is falling apart and I spoke to this nice guy at the hardware store who could come over and tell me what I need. But of course, you can pick the colors."

"I fucking better," Robin seethes into the receiver. "How was sleeping in the haunted house?"

"Uneventful." Steve shrugs, leaning against the side of the phone booth. He briefly considers mentioning the fridge magnets though he feels insane just thinking about them, let alone speaking of them. But then again... "Hey, do you remember what the magnets on the fridge spelled?"

Robin is quiet long enough that he thinks he's lost the connection, but eventually, she speaks up.

"'Get lost' , I'm pretty sure. Why? Has it changed?" Her tone is not worried enough to Steve's liking. She sounds like a thrilled conspiracy theorist. Nancy has been a bad influence on her. 

Steve hums, a sense of worry creeping up on him. 

"I'm pretty sure it said 'get out' before I left today."

"I could have remembered it wrong," Robin offers, but both of them know it's unlikely. She clears her throat, and Steve can hear the springs in her bed creaking as she straightens up. "Do you think it's actually haunted?"

Steve sighs. 

"I hope it is. We could call the party and they would science it out of existence. I'm afraid it could be a good old-fashioned squatter." He rests his head on the side of the booth with a thud. "I still don't have the key to the basement, after all. Anyone could be down there."

They stay silent for a while until Robin speaks up again.

"You could take the door off its hinges, you know?"

Steve promises he'll pick her up as soon as she's free on Friday, so she can help out with the renovations. He gives her his landline number, in case it starts working later (the company claims it's been set up and should have been working this morning), and checks off the rest of his list, along with some groceries. 

Soon, he's back, watching the laundry spin in the washing machine that is, thankfully, working despite its age. He won't have to get a new one just yet. He gathers all the cleaning supplies into a bucket, and walks to the master bedroom, determined to spend the next night in a real bed. But when he enters, something isn't right. 

He can't put his fingers on it until he opens the windows and turns around. 

The paintings are hanging on the walls. He could have sworn... He could have sworn he took them down to carry to the library later. Led by a strange feeling, he leaves the room and walks downstairs to the kitchen, to stand in front of the fridge. 

Rude

Steve stares at the word for an embarrassingly long time, processing the implications of it. Someone was in the house when he was gone. 

He's dealt with squatters before, so he doesn't panic. Hell, he's fought literal monsters, so even if it is the rumored ghost, he feels a sense of purpose washing over him. Because he already has a whole group, a Party if you will, of people ready to deal with the otherworldly stuff. And if it is a squatter, well...

He has a bat in his trunk. 

And there's only one place in the house where someone could still be hiding. 

He walks back to his car, keeping on high alert and quietly cursing the washing machine that started making a ruckus upstairs. He'd rather be able to hear whatever is happening around him and not just a thud thud thud of it bumping against the floor. 

Regardless, he approaches the door to The Dungeon , his bat in hand, and bangs against its sturdy surface.

"Hey! Anyone there? I just want to talk! I'm the new owner and if you need a place to stay, I can help! We can have lunch and a beer, we can talk it out!" As he expected, there was no answer. He shifts his grasp on the bat and looks around for something to leverage the door. 

"If you don't open up, I'll have to take the door off!" he warns, grabbing a crowbar from his box of tools. It's shiny new, just bought today, and he's not one hundred percent sure how to use it for such a task. Regardless, he rests his bat against the wall and inspects the hinges. They are a bit different from the ones he's seen in his life - sturdy, stylized to look more rustic, like the door itself - made with visible planks of wood instead of a singular, heavy piece. 

"Last chance!" he warns, slotting the crowbar under the door. When he gets no answer, he pushes on it, making the door pop up. They're heavier than he expected, but with some maneuvering, he manages to get a grip on them and haul them up and off the hinges. 

He rests the door against the wall, wary of the darkness he just uncovered. He quickly grabs the handle of his bat but realizes, he doesn't have a flashlight. Cursing himself, he backtracks, trying to keep his eyes on the basement. Once in the entry to the living room, he jumps to grab his duffel bag before rushing back to the hall. There's been no movement from the darkness he's eyeing. With his left hand, he rummages through the necessities he's packed in his bag. Among them, he can finally feel a flashlight, and he grabs it with a wave of relief before straightening up and walking up to the doorframe. 

"Okay," he breathes out, leveling his heart rate. He turns on his flashlight and it reveals surprisingly pretty wooden stairs, some dust, and cobwebs. He sees a hint of a green rug below them, but nothing more. 

read full on Ao3

[lilhoeforevanpeters]

Haunted

"Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around"

Stanley Uris x GN!reader angst

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦✦•······················•✦•······················•✦✦•·······

You put your car in park once you reached your destination. Your tragic destination. You grab the bouquet of flowers from the passenger seat beside you. Sitting in your car for a few minutes, you eventually get out, the cool Autumn air hitting you. You shrugged his jacket on you further, stuffing your hands in the pockets. It doesn't smell like him anymore.

There were many other grieving families there, grieving husbands and wives like you, however, it was eerily quiet, no one dared to even mutter a word. You locked the car, walking through the main gates of the dreaded place.

You stared at the gravel path as you walked mindlessly, not needing to look up for directions as you've been to the location so many times. Clutching the fresh flower bouquet in your hands as your heeled boots make a click-clack sound against the pavement.

You took a right, then a left, until you were finally in the shaded area where he was. Your heart felt heavy, as it had for weeks. You took a shaky breath before looking up.

You sat down on the slightly damp grass, not caring if you got your clothing wet. You looked at the headstone in front of you. The headstone of your husband. Your now dead husband.

You set the flowers in your hand down next to the gravestone. "Stanley Uris, July 13 1976- September 5 2016". You looked at it briefly before looking down at the grass you were sitting on. The cold air blew through your hair that was up in a low ponytail, and you tugged on the jacket that was one your husband's further onto your body.

Pressing your lips together in a tight line, eyes watering as you looked up for a split second before letting out a breath, tears falling down your cheeks and onto the ground in front of you. Your gaze falls back down to the headstone. "Loving son and husband".

"Asshole."

One simple word. A word that held a lot of anger and was typically for people who you hate- but you didn't hate Stanley. You couldn't. He is was your husband. But despite still feeling the love you had for him, you couldn't help but feel angry. Not angry- livid. Livid at the world, at the entire town of Derry, at that fucking clown that terrorized him, at yourself for not going up to check on him sooner, at your husband for killing himself.

It wasn't fair. The entire situation wasn't- it wasn't fair that you were angry at him, or that you were now alone, desperately holding onto the small pieces of him that you had left. It wasn't fair how your home that once brought joy and comfort brings nothing but despair and pain. It wasn't fair that the stupid clown scared him so much and he felt like he had no other choice.

You felt empty, like everything had been stripped from you. It had been. You lost the one person you thought you'd never lose. Your best friend. Your husband. Your Stan.

"You left me. And I hate you for it. I hate you. I hate you for leaving me alone, I hate you for not thinking there was a better option. I hate that I still love you. I hate that I expect you to be there at the table every night after I come home from work, doing your stupid puzzles."

Tears streamed down your face as you spoke bitterly to the tomb. Using the sleeve of his jacket, you wiped away the tears, but they were only replaced with new ones. You hated it all. How your bed felt cold and empty. Or how you still expected him to be there. Memories of what once was haunted your house. They haunted your mind.

You glared at the headstone, as if expecting Stan to respond, to tell he was sorry, and he'd be coming home soon. But you knew that wouldn't happen. It was impossible. His body was in the ground, he'd been gone for three months. You couldn't bring him back; no one could.

You wanted your husband back. Your best friend. He was your everything, and now he was gone. You looked away from the dumb piece of stone that really didn't mean anything, yet meant so much to you.

If Stan had died in a car accident, or something else, maybe you'd be able to cope better. It would be hard- maybe as hard as it was now for you, but you couldn't help but feel that this storyline hurt more. It hurt so much, and the impact it left on you was huge.

That night would stick forever in your mind. How could it not? He was so obviously upset over the phone call- but you brushed it off. And you would blame yourself for that for eternity. You didn't think anything of him taking the bath until he wasn't answering and he'd been in there for half an hour. You felt sick when thinking of it. You had knocked on the door, asking if he was okay, but when there was no answer you went in.

Your husband laid dead in the bathtub, his wrists slit, the word "It" written in his own blood. You let out a scream and rushed over to him, pulling him out of the water and holding him in your arms as you cried and called 911. He was declared dead on the scene.

His lifeless face was burned into your mind. When you close your eyes. When you try to sleep. Everywhere you look- his lifeless face is there. That scene is there. His bloody wrists. How you tried to save him, knowing it was hopeless. The door to the now clean bathroom has been closed from the moment he was declared dead. You couldn't go in there. Hell, you could barely go in your bedroom where you two slept every night.

With tears rolling down your cheeks, you close your eyes and pressed a hand to the ground, grasping at the grass lightly where you knew his body was- six feet under, in a casket. You felt pathetic and broken, but you couldn't help it, you had lost your everything. You just wanted him to hold you in his arms and tell you everything would be okay like he normally would've. However, the only thing you got was the cold wind hitting your back, no warm embrace from your now dead husband.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I'm so, so sorry. I should've gone up sooner. I should've pressed you harder to talk about it. I shouldn't have let you go upstairs."

You blamed the world and that fucking clown, but mostly, you blamed yourself. Deep down you knew you shouldn't. Deep down you knew he wouldn't want you that.

"I love you. And I always will."

You whispered the words to the tombstone, knowing it was foolish to believe he could hear you, but if he did, if there was a chance he could hear what you were saying, then you wanted him to know that you loved him.

So you sat at the grave for three hours, as you did every weekend since the day he was buried. You didn't speak anymore, instead pressing your forehead against the headstone and closing your eyes, his jacket wrapped around your body. This was the closest you had to him now. And you would take whatever you could.

When the air grew colder and crisper, hours later, you got back into the car, sighing lightly and drove home in silence. Driving up to your house, you parked in the driveway as the feeling of heartache crept over you once more.

You walked into the house you once lived in with your beloved husband, memories of all the times you spent with him there still living rent-free in your mind. Sliding your shoes off, you crept up the stairs, avoiding the pictures on the wall on the way up of him smiling at the camera while holding you, or him as a kid. The bathroom door was still closed, and it would remain that way for possibly many more months, and you averted your eyes- even looking at the door made you sick to your stomach. You walked into the bedroom you once slept in peacefully with Stan, not bothering to take your jeans or his jacket off as you crawled into the bed and laid there underneath the comforter, closing your eyes, but not sleeping, as you did every weekend since he died.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you can't help the hot tears that trail down your face as the feeling of hopelessness crept up on you, swallowing you whole like a black hole.

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