#and that i'll finally find peace and somewhere to belong

[ionomycin]

Still not strong enough

[harrietferrell]

[thinkinonsense]

Touchཐིཋྀ

origins!logan howlett x fem!reader x black widow!natasha romanoff

cw: mdni!! oral (f+f), strap-on sex, fingering, squirting, doggy style, p in v, angst, some fluff, angsttt, dom!nat & dom!logan x sub!reader

masterlist

after a life of running and living in fear of an impending doom, you and logan had finally managed to build a peaceful life together. deep in the woods sat a wooden cabin where the two of you spent most of your days.

during the week, logan worked down at the lumberyard while you taught ballet to a group of young girls downtown. your boyfriend didn't know much of your past, just that you were tested on and abused back in russia. he never pressured you to talk about the past, his wasn't any better either.

buried in the back of your closet hid a box of belongings from russia. there weren't many things you valued from that time there but you did manage to take some photos of the girls you were friends with, a few journal, and an old pager given to you by someone you no longer knew. her face was everywhere but she never bothered to reach out again after escaping the red room.

"i'll see you later, honey." logan whispered as he kissed your cheek then left the bedroom.

half asleep still, you mumble a goodbye before your head hit the pillow again for the next couple of hours. you didn't have a class today but instead planned on going to town and getting groceries for the week.

it's a little after one when you finally jump in the shower, listing all the things you needed to buy and what you wanted to make for dinner. while picking out an outfit, you hear a faint vibration. logan kept your toys under the bed so, you knew that wasn't where the noise was coming from.

it could be?

inside the box, you can see the familiar number flash. hesitantly, you walk over to the phone and dial. pacing back and forth on the wooden floor, waiting for an answer.

"эй, принцесса."

hey, princess

you knew that voice like the back of your hand but you still couldn't believe it.

"natalia." your accent came out thick and heavy. she should've expected you to be upset still.

it's been everywhere. the news of the sokovia accords and the freeing of the winter soldier. you were keeping up with the news but not too closely. it was irritating watching natasha get to play super hero with the likes of iron man and captain america when you knew the truth.

"can we talk? i need a favor." she sounded desperate.

"i don't think that's a good idea." you sigh, unable to come up with a good excuse.

"c'mon, for old times sake?"

you hesitate. of course you missed her, how could you not? despite the red room being the worst time of your life, natalia was the daylight that kept you going.

"you don't even know where i am."

"look out your kitchen window."

pulling back the curtain, there she stood on your porch. long red hair just like you remembered, a small suite case next to her and a pair of black sunglasses covering her eyes. you hang up the phone and grab a kitchen knife from the counter; moving closer to the door.

"how did you find me?" you squint, feeling somewhere between anger and impressed.

"an old friend owed me a favor." she shrugs. "i didn't picture you as a living among the trees type of girl. you know, it quite dangerous to live alone in the woods."

"i can take care of myself" you remind her before adding, "and i don't live alone."

natasha's face falls a little. if you didn't know her as well as you did, you never would've been able to tell. she had a million questions but wasn't sure if she wanted the answers.

"what was the favor you needed?" you ask, trying to change the subject.

"i need a place to lay low for a bit."

was it horrible that you had to remind yourself that you are with logan now? now you love logan more than anything but you would be lying if you said natasha didn't hold a special place in your heart still.

"no games, nat." you put on your best poker face, knowing she could see right through you.

"even though i do miss playing with you," her lips linger closely to yours. sharing the same air. "i promise, no games."

"good. there's a guest room inside."

the two of you enter the house again and you show her the extra room. it's not very decorated, simply and neat. natasha didn't mind, she was just thankful you hadn't tried to fight her once you saw her again.

"so, who's the lucky lady that managed to tie you down?" nat chuckles to herself as she unpacks her things.

"his name is logan." you answer nervously.

why were you nervous? you didn't owe her anything, especially after the way she left you.

natasha felt the knife in her chest twist at the news. not only had you moved on but you were sickly in love. maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

a car door slams shut, snapping both of you back into reality.

"i'll be back. there's towels under the sink if you want to take a shower." you linger in the door way, waiting for her to turn and catch a glimpse of you before you leave.

"thanks, принцесса."

she doesn't even look up at you.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

logan could smell trouble miles away. the blood soaked in her jacket. the faint smell of her sweat and your cherry perfume. he assumed you were in trouble, maybe someone broke in or lured you out of the house to attack you. within seconds, he was back in his truck to check up on you.

"hey, honey." you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

"hey... are you... are you alright?" he struggled to get out in between kisses.

"mhm, i was thinking we could go for a drive." you were talking too fast, trying to distract him from whatever was inside.

"what's going on, sweetheart?" one of his brows arched, waiting for the truth.

both of you climb into the truck but logan never starts the car. instead he listens to the rapid beating of your heart.

"there's something—someone, from my past that's inside. she needed a place to lay low for a little bit."

logan could tell by your lack of eye contact that there was something you were still hiding something about this friend of yours.

"I won't be upset." he saying lovingly, reaching for your hand.

"when i was in the red room, i worked closely with a woman that i also was in a relationship with at the time."

logan wasn't sure why you were nervous to tell him this? he knew you liked women as well and he wasn't threatened by it. sure, is it a bit odd that your ex was coming here to hide out? defintely but logan of all people should know what it's like to be in need of somewhere to hide out.

"it was more than just physical. she meant a lot to me until..." you debated on telling him more but still on the fence.

"until?" he tests the waters.

"dreykov sent me to budapest. she never looked for me." on the verge of tears, you bite down on your tongue. "it killed me because not only did she leave me but she abandoned all the other girls that were stuck in the red room."

logan pulls you into his chest, stroking your hair gently, letting you know that it's okay to cry. your brain didn't get the memo because nothing came out.

"you don't have to let her stay here if it's too much for you." he reminds you.

"i know. i'm just not sure if i can handle her leaving again."

"must've really loved her, huh, princess?"

you nod softly into his chest.

"i don't mind if she stays but if you don't want her too, that's fine too." he says. "just want you to be happy."

in times like these, it hits you just how lucky you are to be with someone like logan. someone so understanding and loving. he knew the pain you went through all those years ago and how deep the connection with the woman inside must be. you can't survive that level of abuse without something keeping you going. for you, that something was natasha.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

inside the house, natasha watched you and logan out in the car. slightly intimidated by your boyfriends stature and entirely jealous of his arms wrapped around you. she had to remind herself that you were practically a stranger to her now. so much has changed over the years and neither of you were the same girls from the red room anymore.

when she saw the two of you exiting the car, she rushed back into the guest room. in the tiny hallway, she noticed the picture frames on the wall. there's a photo of a group of young ballerinas and yourself. natasha wonders if that's how you keep yourself connected to your past life.

next to your picture is your boyfriend -whatever his name was- and some of his friends outside of a fancy looking school. natasha tried to pay little attention to it on her way back to the room.

ten minutes pass before there's a soft knock on the door.

"come in." natasha calls out, turning off the television.

from behind the door, you appear with a plate and a glass in your hands. the smile on her lips, drops the moment she sees him at your tail.

"thought you might be hungry." you explain, handing her the sandwich you made for her

"isn't that sweet of you to think of me," she teases, watching the way your cheeks flush with color at her words.

logan leans against the door frame while you sit on the bed with natasha. he watched as you completely bewitched the red headed woman in front of you. she was practically hanging onto every word you said. he couldn't blame her though, you have the same effect on him.

"you must be 'lucky logan' ?"natasha cocks her head at the man behind you.

"guess so." he smirks, admiring the doe eyes you give him.

"hm, and you're okay with me staying here?" she asks.

"that's not up to me." logan shrugs.

natasha's green eyes shift over to your face, waiting for you to say something.

"i want you here, nat." you admit.

her heart flutters in her chest. she knew she didn't deserve a second chance and would leave if you asked her too but god, was she grateful that you still wanted her to be here.

"i don't deserve you, принцесса." she says softly, finding it hard to mask her feelings anymore.

"shhh..." you tell her. "just get some rest."

natasha actually listens to you, finishing her sandwich and crawling under the soft comforter. you reach for the empty plate and she stops you before you could walk away; placing a soft kiss on the inside of your palm. the tiny gasp that left your mouth didn't sneak past either of them in the room. once she let you go, you and logan exit the room and go into your own shared bedroom.

logan watched you pace back and forth, wiping her kiss mark off on your blue jeans. it pulled at his heart strings to see you so torn by natasha's presence. tears fall down your face like rain.

"don't cry, sweetheart." logan says, wrapping his arms around you.

"i'm s-sorry, lo..." you apologize, upset at yourself for still harvesting these feelings towards natasha.

"for what?" he asks, lifting up your chin to look at him.

"i love you so much." you blurt out, too afraid to say what you really wanted to.

"i know. i love you too." he smiles, bending down to give you a quick kiss then adding, "and i know you love her too."

"it's not–"

"it's okay." he assures you. "i'm not upset."

"you aren't?" you question, prepared for him to storm out and want nothing to do with you ever again.

"no."

without thinking, you completely collapse into his arms, so thankful for the man in front of you.

"i don't deserve you, logan." you whisper, kissing him gently.

"don't say that." he says sternly. "i'm just trying to give you everything you want in life."

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

hours later, natasha woke up. she could smell faint tobacco from somewhere in the house. it was enough to get her out of bed to see where it was coming from. in the living room, she found logan on the couch watching a western and smoking a cigar with his boots up on the coffee table. he didn't have to turn around to know that nat was there.

"she went to the grocery store to get something for dinner." he says nonchalantly answering the question in your head.

natasha hummed in response, keeping a distance from logan in case he decides to do something rash like fight her.

"you can sit down, you know?" he chuckles, blowing the smoke from his mouth. "i'm not gonna attack you or anything."

"i wouldn't blame you if you did." she remarks, picking the single chair in the living room to sit down at.

"the only way i would do that is if you decide to hurt her again." he states frankly, eyes glued to the television screen.

"i suppose that's fair; but i don't plan on it."

"good. she's practically a damn saint."

natasha smiles a little at his words.

"yeah, she is." she says. “i wish i hadn’t left her the way that i did but there wasn’t much choice in the matter.”

“why did you leave her there?”

“dreykov found out about us. he threatened to have her sold off somewhere to someone who would probably kill her or worse.” natasha’s voice was tiny for once. painfully reminding her of the past she tried to burry. “thought i made it easier by leaving. she doesn’t know it but i did try to go back for her. twice actually. once by myself and another time with my friend, clint. the first time, she didn’t recognize me. the second time, he ordered her to kill me. barely made it out alive."

logan remembered how after a couple of months dating, you opened up about your memory issues. constantly feeling like you were missing a piece of the puzzle that was your life from all the experiments. it’s one of the things that helped you two connect with each other.

“i’ve seen her kill with her bare hands. seen her tied to tables with needles injected into her until she was blue in the face and spitting up blood. she was one of his favorite’s. used to wake up to her screaming from the nightmares.”

“she still gets them sometimes.” logan mutters.

nastasha nods, wiping a tear away quickly.

“do you think she will ever forgive me?”

“i think so.”

“do you think i deserve it?”

“probably not,” he said honestly with a shrug. “but that’s not up to me.”

natasha appreciated his candor at least.

“she’s back.” logan said before she could even hear the car approaching.

logan got up to help you bring in the bags. once both of you are inside, you spot nat sitting in the living room awake.

"hey, whatcha doin’ awake already?” you ask.

"i haven’t been awake long.” she answers, getting up and joining you in the kitchen.

“i’m making pasta, hope that’s alright with you?”

“of course. want some help?”

you instruct her to boil the noodles while you prepare the sauce. the two of you stand close next to each other as nat watches over your shoulder.

"have you heard from yelena lately?" you ask, making small talk.

"no." nat's voice came out a whisper. "have you?"

"mhm." you hum, stirring the sauce. "she called a month ago, asked what i knew about these red vitals she was given."

"vitals?"

"yeah, i told her my memory isn't as good as it used to be."

natasha reaches over and lightly touches your ponytail, twirling the ends around her fingers to help ease you. that’s how she used to calm you down as teenagers, by playing with your hair. deep down you knew you shouldn’t look at her, not this close anyways. nat could smell your cherry perfume, over powering her senses. her plump lips tempted you, sending an ache down to your lower region. she watches you intensely, waiting for you to make a move and wanting you more than ever.

unbeknownst to either of you, logan knew what was going on. he could smell the need forming in your underwear, could practically hear natasha’s dirty thoughts about you. most boyfriends would feel threatened by this but logan was different. he worshipped the ground you walked on and he always valued your happiness. why would he deny you of the love you deserved?

"i-i'm gonna go grab some wine from the cellar." you stutter, leaving her there alone.

nat nods, walking back into the living room to breathe.

"you can kiss her, if she wants you too." logan says aloud, tapping off the end of his cigar on the ashtray next to him.

"you aren't just saying that so then you would have an excuse to try and kill me, are you?" she squints.

"she won't make the first move. too afraid that she'll hurt me." he replied, ignoring natasha's comment.

"you wouldn't care?" she questions.

"no."

"what if i wanted to do more than kiss her?"

"its up to her."

logan watches natasha's eyes cloud with lust at the thought. how could he fault her? you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen in all 200+ years of his life. plus he would be lying in he said that he wouldn't find it hot to see you and natasha going at it.

"hey, is red okay?" you ask, holding a bottle up as you rounded the corner.

both logan and nat looked at you with these hungry looking eyes like you were their prey. logan's nostrils flare a little at the sweet scent.

"r-reds fine." nat stutters, her throat was dry at the thought of being back in between your thighs.

"cool, i'll get the glasses."

as you turn to leave, logan calls after you, "can you bring me a beer, sweetheart?"

"of course" you nod, obediently.

when you return, the three of you sit and watch the western playing for a few minutes until logan huffs loudly, sick of this tension and neither of you two doing anything about it.

"are you two gonna kiss 'n make up already, or what?" logan teases.

natasha and you find each others blown out gaze. both of you needed this. needing closure.

"fuck it." natasha mumbles to herself, getting up and coming over to you.

the redhead straddles you on the couch, caressing your jaw in her delicate palm. you nod your head, letting her know that you wanted this as much as she did. from her first taste of you, she knew it would be impossible to pull away.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

nat chases your plump kiss bitten red lips, backing you up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. your hands are up her shirt and under her bra, squeezing the soft flesh of her tits. rubbing your thumb over the blooming bud and listening to her pretty moans against your lips. she lays you down and strips herself of her clothes. you rush to do the same, wiggling out of your jeans.

behind nat, you see logan walk in with his beer in his hand and take a seat across from you in the corner. knowing that he's watching sent shivers down your spine. it wasn't until natasha grabbed your chin and squished your cheeks together that you realized you had been staring at logan.

"it's not his turn, it's mine." she taunts.

you nod your head and babble out an apology. she removes her grip on you only to lay down in between your thighs. a sight that you missed dearly.

"natty, please don't tease." you whine, arching at the soft kisses she trails inside of your thighs and hip bones, avoiding where you needed her most.

she smiles at the fact that your already shaking with anticipation. surprisingly, she looks over at logan.

"keep her legs spread for me, would ya'?" she asks.

he nods, already hard in his blue jeans. logan joins you two on the bed, sitting behind you and letting you rest comfortable against his chest. he places your legs over his to keep you open for natasha. she groans, sucking a dark plum bruise on your hipbone. meanwhile, logan's leaving similar marks on your neck and along your shoulder.

"please." you whine, wiggling your hips in her face. both natasha and logan can smell your arousal in the air. it's intoxicating.

"patients, baby." she scolds before licking a fat stripe over your clothed cunt.

"w-wanna feel you nat."

without hesitation, natasha tears the lacy material from your body and spreads you open. it's been years since she had last seen you in this position. she needs a moment to capture your angelic imagine.

"there's my girl." nat says, talking to your cunt. completely ignoring you and logan like you two aren't even in the room.

"isn't she a fuckin sight?" logan finally speaks up.

right as you open your mouth to beg her to do something, anything, she leaning in again to lick from your entrance up to your button.

"missed this pussy, принцесса..." nat says sloppily into your folds. "so wet for me."

"uh-uh." you moan, throwing your head back.

logan turns your chin to capture your lips, letting you moan freely into his mouth while his hands come up to massage your tits. fingers pinching and rolling the stiff buds in his palms.

natasha spends a while making out with your cunt; taking her time to savor the honey that pours from inside of you. she pulls back for a second to spit on your mound, letting it drip down before inserting her middle and ring finger. hers weren't nearly as thick as logan's but they are longer and still feel perfect in their own way. she watches how you and logan move together while she pumps in and out of you. for once, she didn't feel jealous of logan for having you. instead it made her heart swell to know that someone else loves you just as much as she does.

despite all the pleasure you felt, selfishly you wanted more. your right hand moves to intertwine itself into nat's red locks, pulling her head back to where you needed her most. her tongue swirled circles over your swollen bud, teasing it playfully. her fingers move faster inside of you as she grinds her clothed cunt against the mattress, moaning against your folds.

"ya' feel good, sweetheart?" logan asks, placing a soft kiss on your hairline.

"sooo good, lo." you purr, gazing up at him with doe eyes.

his low chuckle makes you clench down had on natasha's fingers. all that can be heard in the room are low moans and wet squelching noises. nat kitten licks your button until you reach your first high of the night.

too caught in euphoria to control your legs wrapping around her neck, squeezing her head with your thighs. your loud moans were barely audible to her at this moment. the red head could die happily right here, right now.

carefully, she pulls off of you.

"you did so good for me, принцесса." she praises, stroking your thighs.

as soon as natasha sits up, you reach out and kiss her, tasting yourself on her plump maroon lips. she melts into the kiss making it easy for you to flip her over on her back. logan gets up again, unbuckling his belt as he watches the two of you grind on each other in messy, uncoordinated movements.

"wish you could fuck me like old times, nat." you mumble, kissing her chest and leaving little love bites behind.

"i-i could..." she hesitates.

already ahead of her, logan's rummaging through her backpack and hold up a familiar contraption.

"lookin' for this, red?" he smirks, tossing the strap-on onto the bed next to her.

the last time nat wanted either of you two think is that she just dropped by to fuck you and leave but what can she say? she's prepared for anything.

"is this alright with you, pretty girl?" she asks you in between lightly nibbling on your pulse point while you grind your cunt against the soft skin of her abs.

natasha pulls back to look at you. her hand cradles your jaw, waiting for your answer.

"i need it natty." you nod. "need you inside of me."

those words make her blue eyes turn a stormy dark grey. in a rush, she puts it on and lets you line yourself up to the silicone. despite all the time apart, the two of you fell back into a seamless rhythm together. one of her hands rests on your hip, helping you move up and down while the other paws at your chest, rolling the stiff bud.

"uh-fuck." you whine, throwing your head back when she angles her hips up with a sharp snap.

"that's the spot, huh?" she smirks, watching your pretty face scrunch up as you try and focus.

weakly, you nod your head and babble something incoherent to both hers and logan's ears. it's not the same feeling that logan gives you obviously but the way natasha's fucking up into you makes you feel just as good.

logan makes his way over to you, palming his boxer covered cock as he leans down to make out with you. willingly, giving in as his tongue explores your mouth messily with a hand in your hair. natasha uses this to her advantage, bringing her thumb up to your clit and circle it slowly in contrast to the jolts of her hips hitting yours. logan swallows every little moan that spills from your plump lips.

" 'm so close, natty." you whimper, tears in your waterline as logan's sucks on your pulse point.

"is that so, baby?" she mocks with a light roll of her hips.

"d-don't stop, please." you beg, bouncing faster to chase your high.

natasha and logan were both wishing that they could feel you clenching around them instead of the silicone.

logan's big rough hands help you bounce in rhythm as soon as he sees your movements slow down.

"c'mon, princess." logan groans in your ear. "we wanna see you fall apart for us."

"cum for us, sweet girl." natasha purrs, sitting up to suck on your tit and picking up speed with her thumb.

that's all it takes for you to release on top of nat, hips shaking violently while you leaked all over her lap. eyes screwed shut, stars coming into vision as you try to calm yourself down again. it just felt so good to feel the contrasts between her and logan when they fuck you.

carefully, logan picks you up off of natasha's strap. she takes it off and throws it aside, watching logan help you recover.

"don't ya' think natasha deserves something too for how good she's made you feel, princess?" logan asks you.

"mhm." you nod, crawling in between her legs. "wanna thank you properly, natty."

natasha thinks she might cum just from looking at your big doe eyes in between her thighs. you play flat on your stomach, kissing the plush soft skin. her hips wiggle impatiently in your face. the sweet smell of her arousal reminded you of all the other intimate moments the two of you have shared. within seconds, you're ripping off her lacy black panties and tossing them somewhere to the side of the bed.

"so fuckin' pretty 'n so wet." you mumble to yourself as you pull her fold apart, watching her slick drip from her entrance. "is this all for me?"

"o-only for you, baby." she says with a shaky breath.

you lean forward licking a strip from her entrance to her button. your hands wrap under her thighs and pull her tight against your face, letting her use you however she wanted. natasha grinds down on your tongue, moaning when your nose occasionally bumping her clit. she taste sweeter than any other times you've buried your tongue inside of her.

"love how good your tongue feels, baby." she moans, brushing your hair out of your face.

mind fully focused on nat that you don't even register logan shifting around behind you, running his tip up and down your pussy. lightly slapping your clit before thrusting inside of you. his cock stretches you deliciously, making you moan against natasha's cunt. her fingers pulls a bit at your hair from the vibrations. it's always a struggle to get him to fit inside of you.

"tightest pussy in the fuckin' world, i swear." he mumbles to himself, watching you swallow him whole.

logan's thrusts start to increase as he paws at the flesh of your ass. his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, making it hard for you to keep your mouth around nat. your forehead pressed against her thigh while you try to concentrate, licking your fingers and inserting them into natasha's tight warm cunt.

"fuck!" nat moans, clenching around your two fingers as they reach that spongey spot deep inside of her. "faster, принцесса. wanna cum for you."

her dirty words sent you into a frenzy. using all of your strength left to make her gush. the noises were so lewd it made your head spin. her back arches and soft moans fall from her lips as she tugs on your hair. like a faucet, she's leaking all over your hand, your face, and down on yours and logan's shared sheets.

behind you, logan is too busy trying not to cum inside of you too soon. he's gripping your hips so hard you know that there will be bruising left behind. every now and then you can hear him grunting and smack the fat of your ass, watching as it bounces back at him. the pleasure builds in your tummy. logan's hand snakes under you to rub at your clit.

"f-faster, lo." you whimper, lifting your mouth off of natasha for a second.

"i gotcha, princess." he groans, doing so.

within seconds, you release all over him. the string of moans vibrate against nat's core, overstimulating her until she cums again, soaking your face entirely. logan doesn't last much longer either. he paints your walls white and keeps you stuffed with his cum, only pulling out when it starts to sting a little.

the three of you are quiet for a moment, needing time to recover. who would've thought that two russia assassins and a mutant would need time to recover from anything, let alone sex.

logan's the first to move, going to bring towels and some water. you rest your head on natasha's stomach, she runs her nails against your scalp the same way she would when you woke up from nightmares. a tear rolls down your cheek, thinking about her running away again.

"what's wrong, принцесса?" she whispers, hearing you soft cry.

"just dreading you leaving again." you mutter, afraid to look up at her.

"hey, i'll be here as long as you want me here." she says, lifting your chin up.

"tasha, someone needs to save those girls. dreykov won't stop until someone comes after him."

there's a long pause of silence before she says anything again. her eyes glued to the ceiling, trying not to cry.

"you know, i used to picture a simple life for the two of us. something similar to this actually, minus the grumpy looking man in the kitchen. i wanted to give you a piece of normalcy but i kept running away, afraid i was the one putting you in harms way." she sighs shakily. "i shouldn't have ran. i should've come back. there's so much i couldn't give you but i see that logan can do that for you."

"look, i love logan more than anything but why can't we make it work too?" your question makes both natasha and logan pause, as he returns into the bedroom.

natasha looks up at logan, ready for him to finally yell and kick her out. especially now that she's coming between the two of you. instead he's looking over at you with a spark of love in his gaze.

"i don't think logan would appreciate sharing you full time." she says, avoiding your wide eyed stare.

"i just want my girl to be happy." he responds, lighting another cigar. "think she would be happier with both of us, red."

the time has never been right for you and natasha but who says it needs to be? she's finally back in your life again and you can't risk letting her go again.

"we will help you track down yelena and fight with you to free those girls from the redroom but i want you here with us, natty. please don't go again."

she finally looks down at you and her heart melts. how would she be able to leave you again? not after today. this is where her heart lied, here with you.

"of course, i'll stay принцесса."

[my-hobby-is-finding-the-source]

what's your white whale you mentioned?

Concerning a previous remark.

In November of 2018, the Vocaloid and UTAU producer KIRA released the UTAU voicebanks Akarui Kouki and Akarui Hikari, created and voiced by him.

Each voicebank features a mascot character of the same name, with concept art provided by seica.

In the following days, as is the usual for such a momentous occasion, KIRA would receive several messages and comments on Twitter, to congratulate him on the release, including edits as well as drawings of these characters.

I crossed paths with one such message—a drawing of Akarui Hikari, with a peace sing on each hand, head tilted to the side, and with her tongue sticking out a bit, captioned "Queen for the gays", if memory serves.

I though "Oh, cute", gave it a like, and went on my way. I would never see the full drawing again.

Some time later—not sure when I started—I remembered the image and figured I ought to see it again. To my dismay, I could not find the tweet anywhere.

"Surely, it must still be somewhere!" — I thought, naively, as I typed the caption I remembered on Google.

No results.

"Okay, maybe it will show up on Twitter..." — It didn't.

"Just drop her name on Images, something gotta show up!" — Many things did, but not what I looked for.

"Did anyone upload it to a booru?" — No.

"Okay. Okay. There's no need to be lazy, I'll just read every single tweet by and to KIRA since the release date. It has to be there!" — It wasn't. But the effort was not wasted.

I was able to find many replies by KIRA to tweets that have since been deleted, or that belong to missing or suspended accounts, which may explain the disappearance. Unfortunately, not a single one of those replies appears to have been archived.

But. But! In an unrelated reply, I found an old screenshot of a tweet KIRA. In that screenshot, as the portrait of the accomplice, three parties that inadvertently conspired to my torment, in that frozen moment in time, there she was.

To this date, this highly compressed circle-cropped 135x135 ordinary collection of pixels has stood as the single proof of my sanity, the simplest marker of my ineptitude, and the sterling token of my regret.

At this point I'm not sure that I'll ever find it, that it can even be found.

Should I even want to find it?

To finally get to it and lose this strongest reminder of the transience of all things, that you should hang tight to all that you hold dear.

It is said that you are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed, but what about that which tames you?

Maybe if I just asked KIRA if he still has it and remembers who made it, but what then?

To hear a "Yes" and crystalize my incompetence for all eternity, or to hear a "No" and lose even this last speck of hope.

It's just another drawing. It's the most important image in my life.

[anyasivy]

a little unfinished and UNCORRECTED snippet from my alcina x reader fic but this part is so very ada wong x reader.

"Is your real name really Ada Wong?" You found yourself asking, your head laid (quite too comfortably) on the mercenary's chest. For a moment, you allow yourself solitude. You've been avoiding Chris after Alcina's visit yesterday, and the relentless buzzing of your phone proved he wasn't too pleased with it. Still, you can't bear to make a decision much too soon.

Thank God Ada came back just in time. She'd been a step away from your doorframe, and you'd already lunged yourself at her in a desperate act of salvation. Your mind, at constant and head-aching war, had gone silent as the afternoon set in, the sheets atop both of your bare figures, and you found yourself wanting to hide in this moment. The images of Alcina in your apartment felt like a distant, yet all the same painful memory. You force yourself to push her at the back of your head.

You still had time.

Ada replies, her voice soothing and laced with the kind of gentleness that had your heart soaring. For all that Ada was, she never failed to make you feel at peace. "No," Her fingers made its way to the sides your arm, tracing invisible lines and circles. "But it's an identity I've found myself more familiar with." She explains, and you start wondering yet again how she'd come to be like this. Her history, a mystery like the woman she is, intrigued you more than you'd like to admit.

That very same second, your mind came to a decision. Surprisingly, it didn't scare you like you thought it would. It had to do with Ada. She'd seem to have a knack for making things look safer. Better. You run a tongue on your lips, heaving a sigh, "Tell me more about you."

She stiffens, "What's the matter with you today? Oh god, don't tell me you've fallen in love-"

You laugh heartedly, effectively cutting her off. Whilst you weren't against the idea of holding that kind of affection for her, you stressed you were quite taken already. Your heart, as always, belonged to the woman who seemed to be so intent on breaking it at every turn. You craved those golden eyes no matter what, though.

"It can't hurt to share," you urge, hoping she'd hear the sincerity in your voice. Hesitantly, you add, "I've somewhere to go, Ada..." she had frowned, clearly unknowing of where this conversation was going. "I doubt I'll want to go back here again."

The hand on your shoulder pauses in its movement, and you find yourself moving as she starts sitting up. You follow suit, looking back at her. You were the curious one. Ada's known that all along, but you never pressed on matters like this, knowing she'd shoot you down with either a word or clear-cut, harsh rejection.

She narrows her eyes, "Is Redfield getting to you?" You shake your head no. "What's going on, [Y/N]? Somewhere to go- what, you plan on disappearing again?"

You bit your lip. Bingo. You didn't speak, letting her understand and sink in the information. Reading Ada Wong's emotion is a full-time job. In a way, she was alike Alcina with how they masked their expressions with frightening expertise. But you see the slight furrow in her eyebrows, and you find yourself inching closer, hoping the little changes in her neutrality would be more visible.

"Ada."

"I've forgotten," she finally says, and you listen attentively. "Everything of my childhood. It's a blur, and I'm certain most of what I retained are stories I told myself in order to fill in the gaps." Your lips parted in surprise, and your initial response was to comfort the woman, but she'd taken ahold of your hand, stopping you before you could. She continues, "Eida was a name given to me by the man who took me from my family. Or rescued me. Like I said, I don't know which is real."

"Do you remember him? His name? We have millions of resources, Ada. Not to mention the technology we have today. We could track him down. Ask answers." Your voice took on a firm tone, in which Ada found amusing. She's aware of how much you care. You practically broadcast it every time she was with you, but your sincerity still bewilders her from time-to-time. Especially because she's tried to engrave in your mind how this was just benefits and not friends with benefits kind of thing.

The mercenary takes a sharp inhale, her thumb caressing the soft skin of your hand, "I don't want to," She admits and rolls her eyes when you frowned, because of course you frowned. "I don't live in the past, [Y/N]. Even Eida was an unknown identity. She's a stranger to me. And so were the rest of my names."

"Then who are you now?" You push, "I want to have something of you to remember, Ada."

"You make it sound like you're dying,"

You chuckle softly, "I might as well."

"...fine." she mumbles, "I know- from the courtesy of who I currently work for- that I was born on December 4th."

You gawk, and when you stayed as is, Ada shoves your shoulder, causing you to fall on your back against the mattress. Without a moment's notice, you start laughing. Ada considers your sanity.

"It all makes sense!" You exclaim, scrambling back to her and ignoring how the sheets have fallen down to her stomach. God, 4 rounds were enough. Plus, you had somewhere to be in an hour or so. Musing, you snicker, "You're a Sagittarius."

Ada scoffs, "I've given you vital information, and that's all you've gathered with it?" She glances up at the clock on your wall, noting the time and giving you another push on the shoulder. "Not worth it,"

You giggle, "Hey, I'm disappearing, as you claim. Want those to be your last words?" You meant to tease, but when Ada looked back at you, her eyes had a certain fondness attached to it. Concern. You pull her in for a quick kiss, a silent reassurance that you'll be fine. She places her hands softly on the sides of your head, urging you on. You'll miss this, you admit. It was so easy with Ada, and it didn't help how soft her lips were, how gentle. She nips, and you pull back with a smirk. "You'll miss me,"

"Take care of yourself, [Y/N]." Was what she said back. You considered calling her out with the fact that she didn't exactly disagree on your accusation. If anything, she seemed to have accepted that she would, as much as she wishes not to, miss you. She can't help but ask, "Do you want me to find you?"

"No."

She nods her head curtly. "Okay,"

Ada started dressing up, and you allowed yourself to follow, letting your hands wander on her waist. She melts almost immediately as your lips find refuge on her neck. She always smelled so good. Probably her shampoo. Ada would be far too perfect a human being if it was her natural scent. You exhaled as you pushed her back further into you. You nibble at her skin, murmuring, "I'll miss you too."

A small smile tugs at her lips, successfully buttoning up her shirt. When she finished dressing, she turned to you with a serious look, "Don't die on me, [Y/N]."

You could only flash a cheeky grin as you said, "I have ways with death."

"That makes two of us."

[ninchen1909]

The Teacher and the Mob Boss -Chapter 8-

Word count: ~3.000

Warnings: none that I can think of, mostly fluff

A comfortable silence surrounds us, our hands still tightly intertwined and I feel closer to James than ever before. For the first time since I met him, compassion arises in me. He never wanted this life, never wanted to belong to a mob, let alone lead one, he took this all on himself to protect his family, his loved ones.  James broke down his walls for me, opened the way to his innermost being and I couldn't be more grateful for that. The last days I tried to swallow the attraction I feel for him, but at this moment I can't anymore. All feelings break out in me and I can hardly keep them in check. Still, I don't want to interrupt our intimate conversation, but everything inside me wants to find out as much about him as possible.

"If you could have made your own free choices, what would your life have been like?"

Astonished, Bucky looks me in the face; he seems completely overwhelmed by the question, and it takes him a moment to finally answer

"No one has ever asked me that before."

"Then I'll ask you now."

I pull our clasped hands up slightly just to rest my chin on them, patiently waiting for his answer.

"It would be definitely calmer and not as bloody. I honestly can't tell you exactly how I imagined my life would be when I was younger. And since I've been involved with the mafia, I can't really afford to daydream either. But I can tell you how I imagine my future since I met you."

A mischievous smile spreads across his face and I raise an eyebrow in anticipation before asking him to continue talking with a slight smile.

"Our life together would be quiet and away from all this violence and intrigue. Just you, me and Charlie, a small farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere from which we can get everything we need. Or maybe a cozy cottage somewhere in the woods. Just a small family and a carefree childhood for my daughter, one like I never had. Far away from all the hate, lies and scheming that goes on every day. Just the three of us, some animals and peace. And maybe, if that's what you want too of course, a sibling for Charlie."

A dreamy glint enters his eyes and an expression full of longing creeps onto his features.

"That sounds perfect."

"Only unfortunately, we don't live in a perfect world, so I guess it will always be just a dream."

Tenderly, he strokes over my cheek, still a slight, melancholic smile pulling his full lips.

"But we can make the world perfect for ourselves."

"We?"

All at once he sits bolt upright beside me, the pressure around my hand intensifies, and he looks at me from hopeful eyes. A wide, honest smile settles on my lips and I nod.

"Yes, Jamie, we."

"So you really want to try? You don't have to feel pressured into anything, I just-"

To stop him from talking himself into a rage any further, I disengage our hands from each other and clasp mine in his neck. Surprised by my action, he stops his babbling and looks at me in amazement. Calm, ice-blue eyes bore into mine, a shiver chases down my spine, and I unconsciously lean toward him. My fingertips bury themselves in his hair and begin to play with the individual strands.

"I want to, James. I didn't want to admit to myself that I was falling in love with a man I thought was dangerous. And the father of one of my students at that. But I realized I'd already blown that after our meeting in Stark's office. Otherwise, the possibility that you were engaged wouldn't have thrown me off like that either. But that's exactly what it did."

Briefly averting my gaze from his face and trying to collect myself, I noticed his large hands settle on my thighs and begin tracing patterns on them.

"But I hope you know that if we're going to start seeing each other more often, there have to be some rules."

"You make the rules."

His eager tone, triggers a slight tingle inside me.

"We keep our relationship private as much as possible. I'm still Charlotte's teacher, and even though it's a gray area legally, I don't think the school would be too pleased about me dating the father of one of my students."

"I could, however, talk to Tony an..."

A serious look from me immediately silences him and he raises his hands up defensively, yet I can still see his mischievous smile.

"Ok, agreed, we'll keep a low profile. Any other rule?"

"No secrets."

Again I see him open his mouth to most likely contradict me, but I interrupt him before even a word can leave his lips.

"I'm serious James. No secrets. I know I don't understand much about your world, your fake fiancée made that clear to me. But that fact, makes it even more important for me, that we are honest with each other.

I want to know when you're feeling down or when something's bothering you or also when we're in danger and I'll give that back to you the same way. Communication is the most important thing if we want this to work.

Briefly, James seems to quibble with my condition, but gives in with a simple, "All right," before long.

"Any other rules?"

After a moment's consideration, I shake my head.

"No, not at the moment..."

"Good."

No sooner has that word left his lips than he buries one of his paw-like hands in my neck and pulls me close to him, a quick glance into my eyes telling him all he needs to know. And just a second later, his soft, full lips are on mine. The kiss is loving and tender, almost reverently his lips move against mine. Millions of electric jolts run through my body and a satisfied moan escapes my throat. Clearly I can feel his grin against my lips, tenderly he strokes his hand through my hair, while he asks with his tongue for entry into my mouth, which I grant him without thinking about it. I have my palms pressed strongly against his chest, his body heat penetrates through his shirt and chases a shiver over my body. Our tongues fight for dominance. And I feel my core tighten.  Only when my lungs beg me to let them breathe again, I detach myself from him with a last short, heartfelt kiss.

Just like mine, his chest rises and falls in rapid movements, our lips are red and swollen and there is a happy, satisfied expression on our faces. Desire rises in me and I let my index finger slide lightly over his chest before looking at him with what I hope are seductive eyes.

"Shall we go to my bedroom, then?"

I surprise myself by making my voice sound firm and confident, but I can't say the same for my emotions. Nervousness rises in me, and I feel like I've been transported back to seventh grade, when I snuck behind the gym with David Moore to make out. James' loud, throaty laugh brings me back to reality and I look at him, puzzled and also a little offended. Sulking, I cross my arms in front of my chest and look at him with raised eyebrows.

"What's so funny?"

My words are accompanied by an indignant snort.

"Just a few hours ago you wanted nothing to do with me anymore and now you want me in your bedroom. And honestly..."

"If I were you Barnes, I'd think very carefully about what I say next, otherwise that'll be your first and last invitation to my bedroom."

"Then you'd really be missing out."

At his words, I roll my eyes, but can't prevent a slight smile from creeping onto my lips.

"You know, with any other woman I would have accepted this offer immediately and if I am completely honest, I would not have had such a long and above all honest conversation with any other woman, as I do now with you. We would have disappeared into her bedroom, fucked and I would have left. No feelings, no guilty conscience, no meaning. And that's also why I'm not going to go to your bedroom with you now."

The words I've been plotting get stuck in my throat and a surprised expression settles on my face. Pure sincerity is in his eyes and the mischievous grin is gone from his lips.

"I don't want that shallowness with you that I had with all those other women..."

"Yeah there were quite a few of those apparently".

Startled, I slap my hands over my mouth, shocked at having spoken my thoughts aloud.

"Oh fuck, sorry, so...I...it's just that....after you introduced yourself to me...and Wanda told me who you were, I googled your name and..."

"And you saw the pictures of me with all the women."

His conclusion hits right on the mark, which is why I can only nod my head in shame.

"That's my past and I can't and won't deny it. I've slept with a lot of women, but I never fooled them, they always knew where they stood with me. And if one of them was hoping for something more, I made it clear to them that there would never be anything between us. I never had the interest in a real relationship at that time..until now. What I want to say is that I want to take my time with you to build a relationship. Nothing superficial, but something with meaning, if that's what you want, of course."

Almost shyly, he looks at his hands. Carefully I reach for this very one and intertwine our fingers together, lovingly I begin to paint small patterns on the back of his hand.

"Yes I do, very much so."

The pleasant silence that surrounds us is interrupted a short time later by the shrill ringing of his cell phone, with a frustrated sigh he pulls it out of his pocket. The name that appears on the display elicits a roll of the eyes. With raised eyebrows, I watch as he answers the call and presses the phone to his ear.

"What's wrong?"

He doesn't really seem to like his counterpart's answer, because after just a few words, a dark expression settles on his features.

"Are they okay?"

Tense, I try to hear what Bucky's interlocutor is saying, but to no avail.

"Sure the video footage, I'll be right there."

Even as he speaks, he rises from the sofa and begins putting on his jacket.

"I want increased security protection for them."

With a final, brash "Right away!", he ends the call and puts his phone back in his pocket.

"I'm really sorry princess, but I have to go."

With quick steps, you follow him to the front door.

"James, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Princess, please..."

"James, we agreed there would be no secrets between us."

He turns his gaze to me, his whole body tense and I think for a brief moment I can see fear in his eyes. Concerned, I place a hand on his forearm.

"I know princess and I promise you that I will explain everything to you, to the last detail if you want me to. But now I have to leave. Urgently."

The seriousness in his makes me pull my hand back.

"Okay."

And with a quick kiss on my forehead, he's gone from the apartment.

An uneasy feeling spreads through the pit of my stomach as I get through my evening routine. Again and again, my thoughts drift to James. A thousand questions buzz through my head as I drop into the white pillows of my bed, the apartment suddenly too quiet and my thoughts too loud.

I don't know exactly when I fell asleep, but what I do know is that the night was far too short, languidly swinging myself out of bed and rubbing my hands over my eyes on the way to the bathroom. After getting ready for work, a quick glance at my phone shows me that I have no new messages. With a deep sigh and still far too sleepy, I head off to school, thankful that today is finally Friday.

About 20 minutes later, I'm already standing in front of the all too familiar brick building, which I now approach with slow steps. From far away I can already see the brown hair of Wanda. She seems to be nervously pacing back and forth in front of the entrance door, her teeth are gnawing at her fingernails and she seems to be waiting for someone. The question of who she's waiting for, however, is solved a short time later, because no sooner have I entered her field of vision than she releases her hand from her mouth and takes a few steps towards me.

"Hey, (y/n).

"Morning."

As Wanda stands in front of me, I suddenly remember why James came to see me in the first place. Nevertheless, I don't know how I should best address this topic, which is why I decide to avoid Wanda for the time being. However, I have made the calculation without Wanda, because I have hardly run a step past her, she already grabs my arm and holds me gently at it.

"(y/n), I know you suspect something...all I want to do is clear all this up so there are no misunderstandings."

"I think the misunderstandings have already occurred, but we can meet tonight and talk. If thats what you really want"

A grateful expression settles on her face and she nods at me with a smile.

"Thanks. I'll be at your place at seven."

After a brief nod from my side, she lets go of my arm and I take my leave in the direction of my classroom . A quick glance at my wristwatch tells me that my first class already starts in 15 minutes, so I just quickly put my bag down on the desk, and head for the door, to greet my students. After just a few minutes, the first of them arrive and I greet each of them with a bright smile and a cheerful "Good morning."

The sound of heavy leather boots coming in my direction makes me turn my gaze from my students to this source of noise. The familiar face of the man makes my heart beat a little faster and I'm sure a slight blush has settled on my cheeks.

"Good morning Mrs. (y/l/n)"

Charlotte's cheerful tone makes a big smile appear on my face.

"Good morning Charlotte, glad to see you."

With a quick kiss on the cheek, she says goodbye to her father, only to immediately run to her friends. Meanwhile, James comes close to me, his intrusive yet pleasant smell rising to my nose, and I have to make an effort not to close my eyes with pleasure.

"Good morning princess"

Tenderly he brushes a strand of hair from my face.

"Morning. Have you got everything sorted?"

An apologetic expression comes over his face and he smiles apologetically at me.

"Yes, everything is back to the way it should be. And believe me, I'll keep my promise and tell you all about it..."

He casts a quick glance over my shoulder before returning his eyes to my face.

"...But not here."

"Yeah right, I understand that."

"There's something else I wanted to ask you..."

Questioningly I raise my eyebrow and look at him waiting, one of his hands now buried in his neck and he looks at me almost shyly.

"...Fuck, normally I'm better at this, but I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go on a date with me? I mean now that everything is good between us again...It's all good right?"

A light laugh escapes me.

"Yes James, it's all good and I would love to go on a date with you."

A million dollar smile appears on his face.

"Perfect. I can't tonight, Charlie and I try to do a father daughter night every Friday, but how about tomorrow...I'll tell you all about it then too."

"Yeah tomorrow is fine."

"Perfect, I'll pick you up at seven."

With that he takes one look around the now completely empty corridor, the rest of the classroom doors are already closed and a restful quiet has settled over the school hallways. After James is sure that no one is to be seen, he leans forward slightly and captures my lips with his. His soft lips nestle tenderly against mine and I close my eyes with a light sigh, Bucky's tangy scent almost driving me crazy. Much too quickly he detaches himself from me again, before he says goodbye with a "See you tomorrow princess". My gaze is directed the whole time at his departing figure and only the slamming of the main door brings me back to the here and now.

With a soft sigh, I turn my gaze away from the door and enter the classroom, where my students are already waiting for me. With a smile, I stand in front of them and begin the lesson.

[mysticmellowlove]

“When you pulled back it took everything in him to not chase you, tug you back into his arms and show you who you really belonged to.”

Who I BELONG TO?!?!? I give bro one kiss and now he thinks he owns me pfft tch ka. Next fic request is going to be me hiring a personal agent team to clear my identity so I can move to another country where he will never find me and let him suffer for the rest of his lonely life because he can’t let me give him a hand kiss without being a sicko.❤️

a/n - frfr, i wanted to just give a lil headcannon as well. just for fun

It was going well for a while. You had hired a team of dedicated agents that could completely wipe your existence from the world.

Turns out that living oceanside really was nice, at least for a little while. After some time things started to not make sense, the slow closure of some of the beach shops, the disappearance of that really cute bartender who'd give you free drinks and your door being unlocked when you strictly remember locking it.

That's when you finally put the pieces together. He had followed you, through everything he had somehow managed to find you. You knew he had money to throw at the wall but how did he possibly fund someone who would undo all the work your team did!

Even on the other side of the world, he had found you. Anger flared up inside you, you had been doing so well. Was it that bad to want peace in your daily life, to want to be away from someone so affectionate... no controlling.

"Why did you do that... why did you leave me alone. I couldn't find you, I called and called but no one answered. I came over to your house but it was up for sale, your job, your family... no one knew. They were so worried for me, they couldn't understand why you would abandon them, why you would abandon me... your husband." You turned towards the hallway and there he was.

"But it's okay because I'm here now and I fixed everything. This place is nice, I knew you were just trying to scope out somewhere we could live alone so I'll forgive you this time. But please, don't do it again" He murmured as he came closer and closer. You would've run again but he would have found you. Somehow he always did.

"Do you see now, I'm the only one for you."

[kindred-sims]

Jo had been reflecting a lot since her last conversation with Caleb. If all he had said and done that day proved anything, it proved that he did not find her a burden. It proved that he actually cared, and that she had grossly misunderstood him.

She made up her mind to set things right, and did so the first chance she got. She'd been busy writing in her journal one afternoon when she glanced up to see Caleb approaching the house, and quickly went to meet him.

"Caleb?"

He looked surprised to see her there, but not annoyed. Not like Papa.

"Oh, Josephine. Did you need something?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. I wanted to talk to you, if you could spare a moment..."

"Why certainly, what's on your mind?"

"Um..." Jo wasn't quite sure where to start, so she spoke slowly, carefully.

"I feel as if I must apologize to you, Caleb. From the moment I met you, I gave myself the wrong idea about who you were. All this time, I was convinced that you hated me, and detested me for not being what you expected, but..."

She paused, looked up at him. He was listening, and there was no sign of irritation in his eyes, no displeasure. He seemed to be listening intently, if anything.

"But, I've come to realize that that it isn't true. I realize now that I've misjudged you, and I would like to ask for your forgiveness. For a chance to start over, on the right foot this time."

She held her breath upon finishing, worried when Caleb didn't respond right away.

"Its odd...I was just thinking the same thing," he finally said, after what had felt like forever. "I misjudged you as well, Josephine, I'll admit that much. I was so eager for you to finally be here and to finally have someone else to share my home with, that I fear I never once gave your feelings any consideration. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, then I will forgive you as well."

With these words, all tension, all uneasiness that had been building up since their meeting faded away. Jo and Caleb both felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from their shoulders, thus allowing them to at last see each other in a new light.

"Of course I forgive you, Caleb, of course. Thank you, thank you so much."

"And thank you, Josephine, truly. Now, about that fresh start..."

"Welcome home, Mrs. Wakefield. I truly hope that you'll be happy here."

Despite his hands being so callused and blistered from constant work, his touch was gentle, soothing. And for the first time since her arrival here, Jo felt a lasting sense of peace come over her, a sense of acceptance, that she hadn't felt since her grandmother had passed on.

A sense that she'd finally found somewhere she belonged.

"I will, Mr. Wakefield. I'm certain I will."

[honey-beann]

Bound

Ghost!Sixty x Reader

Chapter I - The Apartment

Note: Here it is, the long awaited "Halloween" celebration fic that everyone voted on earlier this month! Originally, this was just going to be a oneshot, but I decided to split things up a bit after noticing the word count was getting pretty high, so I hope everyone is alright with a spooky series as we get deeper into autumn!

Series Synopsis: Reader moves into a new apartment for some much needed change after several months of living with her ex post breakup out of necessity. This negative experience has made her all too eager to be on her own again, except the only place in her budget that doesn't require a roommate was the scene of a murder less than a year prior...

What could go wrong?

AKA - Reader makes an iffy compromise so she doesn't have to live with another person, and ends up living with something else entirely, and he's a lot less capable of moving out than she is.

Warnings: This series will eventually contain smut in future chapters and there are many mentions of death, gun violence, and blood all throughout.

Word Count: 7,865

"This the place?"

You looked up from your phone, which contained the GPS directions to your new apartment, and nodded, unbuckling your seat belt as you turned to face your friend.

"Yup, this is it."

You reached over to open the door to the moving truck that contained most of your belongings, watching it swing outward before you stepped down onto the side bar, taking in the cool fall air with a soft sigh.

You stayed like that for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of freedom and peace, before you motioned with your thumb at the apartment complex, although far more specifically at the second floor balcony sticking out from the side of the building.

"It's the one attached to that balcony. I'll run ahead and unlock the door before everyone else gets here."

You said, looking back just long enough to see your friend nod his head in the affirmative before you stepped out onto the sidewalk below, looking up at what was about to be your new home with a mild sense of bewilderment.

How had you gotten here?

Well, you knew the answer to that.

The end to your five year long relationship had made your rooming situation with your ex pretty tense, and after four long months of trying to make it work for the convenience of not having to move, you'd finally given in and started looking at apartments.

The only problem was, there were none.

Detroit wasn't exactly a cheap place to live, regardless of how dingy it could feel at times, and you weren't really feeling all that great about a roommate after your previous living situation.

No, you wanted a place all to yourself, you just needed to find somewhere in your budget.

And in the end, that had landed you here.

A four story apartment complex that had been built in the early seventies. You were a ten minute drive away from the most metropolitan parts of the city, a seven minute walk from a park, a five minute walk from a grocery store and deli, and a three minute walk from your new job at a ridiculously popular bar that your friends were always talking about.

A spot to grab sandwiches and groceries, a place to sit and enjoy nature, and a not entirely creepy bar to work and have fun at all within ten minutes of you, and you didn't even have to deal with heavy traffic on your street. What more could a girl ask for?

Well, maybe she could ask for appliances that weren't older than her, a functioning heating unit, and an apartment that someone hadn't been murdered in, but how else could she afford rent in an area like this one?

You shuddered a bit at the memories of what had supposedly happened here, and tried to shake it off as you reached the front door of the building, pausing to take note of the name that was scribbled on tape next to the call button for apartment 2C, your new home.

'Lukas Everett"

You made a mental note to change that later on before punching in the code to the main entrance, sighing in relief when the old door gave the electronic click that meant it had unlocked for you.

The landlord had warned you that it tended to be difficult at times, since it was an old door lock equipped with a far more modern day system, and you'd be lying if you said his comment about "just shouting until someone buzzed you in" hadn't made you a little nervous about getting your stuff inside.

"Alright, good luck so far."

You muttered under your breath, knocking briefly on the old wood of the door in front of you so as not to jinx yourself before pushing it open and taking a hesitant step inside, where the scent of old wood and floor polish immediately washed over you.

Your shoes tapped on the linoleum beneath your feet as you moved in further, snapping the deadbolt of the lock outward manually before the door could close to keep it wedged open. The electronic lock made a beep noise to warn you that it had been left ajar, but beyond that, didn't set off any alarms or give any other security warnings, so you decided to let it be so your friend could get inside without your help.

Taking another brief glance around the lobby area, you found little worth noting and opted to take the stairs immediately to your left rather than the elevator a few more paces forward.

The stairs were made of aged wood, creaking with every step you took, but even so you could feel how sturdy they were, somehow remaining relatively structurally sound despite how old they must have been judging by the roughly two foot long strip of carpeting that ran up their center, which was a rather faded looking green that spoke to the age of this place both in its style and as its muted tone.

Upon reaching the top of the staircase, which landed you on the second floor, you stepped forward instead of continuing up, your shoe planting firmly atop the heavily marred wood flooring that adorned the hallway.

From there, you took a right, reaching into your coat pocket as you walked all the way to the end, pulling your apartment key out just as you made it to the door.

It was quiet, but not eerily so for a Tuesday at 10am, when you knew that almost everyone who lived in your complex was likely working or sleeping in. Still, you couldn't help but wish it were a little more populated around here, so maybe your footsteps wouldn't sound so loud in your ears.

Sighing, you placed your key in the lock, turning it slowly before pushing the heavy wooden door open with a gentle grunt, taking note of how weighty it felt beneath your palms.

"At least I'll know they worked for it if the murderer comes back for me too."

You muttered under your breath, stepping in and placing a brick that was just inside between the door and it's frame to keep it from closing. It wasn't uncommon to see them used as doorstops around here, but in a brick stone building of this age, you couldn't help but worry that it had once been of some structural importance.

You shrugged off the thought, pulling your coat closer around yourself as you began to survey your surroundings.

Sure, you'd toured the place a little over two weeks back, but this was the very first time you'd ever been here alone, and as you lingered in the heavy silence of your new home, you couldn't help but shiver a little.

At that, the question of your thermostat's location rose to mind, and you began taking small steps into the living area, until you found it on the wall beside the entrance to your hallway.

The landlord had warned you that the apartment ran cold, partially because of the poor sealing job done on the balcony doors, and partially because of the rather ancient heating system, but you turned the temperature up nonetheless, mentally praying that it might bring the heat up a degree or two.

The soft ticking of the radiator located further down the same wall as the thermostat indicated to you that you had at least managed to do something regarding the chill, so you decided to take the little victory and leave well enough alone for now.

You had a new apartment to explore alone for the very first time, after all.

Walking into the kitchen, you immediately set your bag down on top of it, shimmying the accessory off of your shoulder and leaning it against the green backsplash, being careful to ensure that nothing spilled out in the process.

After that you moved on to the old seventies style yellow fridge, sighing in relief a bit when you pulled it open to reveal a pristine white interior that seemed to be sustaining a cool temperature without issue. This fact also remained true about the freezer located above it, so with that, you moved on to your cabinets, checking inside of them to make sure that the previous tenant hadn't left anything behind.

Your thoughts regarding the man who had lived here before you drifted a bit as you continued your chore of checking all the wooden cabinets in your kitchen, steering your mind back to the day of your tour, when your landlord, John had informed you of the real reason that rent was so cheap here.

"So I am required to let you know before we even go in that someone did pass away here a little under a year ago."

He'd said as casually as possible as he wedged the key into the lock, immediately causing your eyes to widen a bit before you steadied yourself, choosing to remain calm rather than assuming the worst immediately. You had long since grown tired of living with your ex and dealing with the awkwardness associated with trying to make that work, so if the only apartment in your price range that didn't require a roommate had its quirks, then so be it.

"The previous tenant?"

You asked curiously, stepping into the apartment after your guide and taking a look around the naturally lit space, which allowed you to see the open concept kitchen and living area as well as the glass balcony doors.

"No, but he was involved."

The landlord replied as nonchalantly as possible before he gestured to the hardwood floors adorning the entire open area that was visible to you.

"So as you can see, I meant it when I said no carpeting. There used to be a ton but we removed it after the last guy moved out. The floor is a little scratched up from the job, but we tried to make sure all of the staples were collected."

You froze a bit at the mention of the carpeting being ripped up recently, sticking your vaguely chilled hands into your pockets as you looked around the room.

"They look nice..."

You murmured, trying to remain as casual as possible despite the strange topic of discussion.

"So the guy who lived here last was there when this person died in the apartment?"

You asked nervously, hoping to learn at least a little bit more about what had happened here.

The landlord nodded and walked over to the balcony doors, cracking them open and letting them swing inward in opposite directions as he motioned for you to follow him onto the concrete landing.

"That's what I last heard during the trial. I'm not sure what he plead but I know he got 25 to life with a potential for parole in fifteen to twenty years."

You had froze at that, eyes widening once again as you struggled not to gape at the man in front of you.

"You mean that the person who died here was murdered? By the previous tenant?"

You asked incredulously, watching in shock as John simply nodded.

"Yeah, it's a real shame. Lukas had been doing drugs for years by the time he moved in here, but I hadn't realized it had gotten so bad until after I found out about the killing. Apparently a buddy of his came over while Luke was having a bad trip, and thinking the poor guy was an intruder, he shot him right in the middle of his forehead."

The man elaborated on the horrifying tale with some sadness to his tone, but an ease to him that made you wonder just how many deaths he'd come across in his time as owner here.

You shivered a bit, rubbing at your arms and making your way off the balcony and back into the apartment, which suddenly felt a lot less welcoming than before.

"Is uh, is that why the carpet was removed in here?"

You asked hesitantly, gesturing vaguely towards the floor as the landlord raised a brow at your question, working to process it for a moment before a look of understanding came across his face, and he began shaking his head with a slight smile.

"Oh no, we really did just think it dated the place, all of the other vacant apartments got the same treatment."

He began, making his way down the hallway before he stopped suddenly at a doorway to his right, the room inside of which appeared to have the same view of outside that the balcony did.

"This is the office space. Lukas was using it as his bedroom because he liked the windowsill sitting area."

He paused for a moment, and before he even spoke, you knew exactly what he was going to say.

You let him finish anyway.

"This is the room it happened in, if you were wondering. We took the carpet out and had a forensic cleaning team deal with the rest before we decided to basically replace everything anyway. Even the cushion on the bench windowsill and a section of the wallpaper."

You nodded softly,

"That's... good to know."

John hummed, patting the side of the door frame before carrying on with the tour, showing you the bathroom, which consisted of a standing shower, a retro style baby blue toilet, and a vintage sink with a mirror cabinet mounted into the wall above it.

You found it charming in an odd way, despite how clearly dated it was, and nodded when asked if you were ready to see the bedroom, which apparently had a bathroom of its very own attached to it.

Together, you walked to a door at the very end of the hallway, which stood proudly in the center rather than on either side of the hall.

John reached forward to open it, allowing it to gently swing inward with a soft creak before he pushed it further, stepping inside to reveal a rather large bedroom lit up immensely by the outside world.

A great deal of the wall opposite you was windows save for one solidly walled space in the center, where a bed was clearly meant to go. These windows had been frosted in a way that made them nearly impossible to see through from the outside, and you couldn't help but ogle at how clear they were from where you were standing despite that fact.

You gave yourself a few more moments to appreciate the view of the city some fifteen to twenty feet below you before you allowed John to guide you in the direction of the en suite bathroom, which to your surprise, was a lot less dated than the other.

In this bathroom, rather than another standing shower, there was a claw-foot tub instead, which was as pristine of a white as the ceramic tiles beneath it. In addition to this, all of the metal that you could see was brass, from the claws of the tub to the faucets and even the radiator in the corner.

"This bathroom was touched up during the renovations too, interior design guy said it would help bring the value up after everything that happened."

The landlord had explained, letting you look for a few seconds longer before you both started to make your way back out into the living area/kitchen and towards the front door.

It was then, right after you had exited and were standing in the hallway facing one another, that John surprised you by bringing up the murder again.

"I know this is all a lot to take in about a place you're thinking about renting, but I want you to know that Luke was a good kid. If I never see you again, I don't want you to leave today thinking he was some crazed killer. He was scared and confused, and Six wouldn't have wanted you to blame him for what he did."

You paused at that, raising a brow at the unconventional name.

"Six?" You asked, watching as John nodded, gesturing for you to follow him back down to the lobby.

"He was a good friend of Lukas'. Ended up coming to check on him after he'd heard about him having a hard time lately towards the end of his shift. He'd always had a soft spot for Luke, had known him since he was twelve or something like that. Knew he had gotten in with a bad crowd. It would be wrong of me not to explain that to you... Kinda like spitting on the poor guy's memory."

After John finished, there was a heavy silence between the two of you, until finally, you piped up.

"I appreciate you letting me know. Would it be alright for me to leave my renters application with you, or do you have somewhere else I should drop it off?"

You asked, pulling out a manila folder from your purse without even really thinking at all.

Something about that apartment, about the way that John talked about everything that had happened there, it made you feel like this was somehow exactly where you were supposed to be. You wanted to make this place your home.

The man before you seemed surprised at your question, faltering for a few moments before he nodded and reached out to take the folder, offering you a polite nod and a slight smile as he began walking you towards the front door.

"Thank you for coming, I'll be in touch soon regarding your potential tenancy."

And that was it.

Three days later, John had called you with the good news (that you'd gotten the apartment), and told you that all he needed was a down payment before you could basically move in whenever.

And now, here you were, two weeks post tour, standing in the kitchen of your new apartment and checking the cabinets for any evidence of Lukas Everett's existence, as if he had moved out himself and left something behind in the process.

You paused to consider that, wondering briefly whose job it was to move someone's things out in the event of their arrest, when suddenly, a vague blur of movement seen in your periphery caught your attention, and you turned to the right towards the living room and the hallway that connected to it.

There was nothing there.

Even still, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise, as if you were subconsciously aware of something you could not see, but could almost feel the presence of.

As quietly as possible, you shut the cabinet door, taking a few small steps toward the living area while scanning your surroundings all the while.

It was only a few seconds later, as you breached the divide between the kitchen and living room, which was marked by the shift from linoleum to wood floor, that you heard a sharp creaking sound from the hallway that was now directly to your left.

Heart pounding as you tried to make sense of what was going on, you swallowed thickly as you started to make your way closer to whatever the source of that sound had been, halting entirely the very second you realized where it had come from.

It was the first room to the right of you, the only room to the right of you in fact, and if John had been telling the truth, it was also the room that a man had been murdered in.

Cursing under your breath at the dread that was building deep in the pit of your stomach, you forced yourself to move forward despite how terribly you wanted to pretend as if you'd never heard anything at all.

You peeked your head around the doorway slowly as you came upon it, fighting back a literal sigh of relief when you saw it was empty, before realizing that you still needed to find out what the source of that noise had been.

It was then that you noticed that the window, the one next to the sitting sill, was open, swinging outward on it's hinges as it blew gently in the wind.

You groaned internally at the sight, but found yourself grateful for the explainable cause of the sound, no matter how annoying it was going to be for you to pull that hinged window back inward.

Slowly and with a great deal of hesitance, you approached it, reaching for the cool metal handle and pulling it back in from above, before you latched it, noting with vague confusion the way that it slid in firmly, which led you to wonder how it had ever come undone in the first place.

Had John opened it up earlier that morning? And if so, what had you heard a minute or so prior?

You shrugged off your own questions, checking to make sure the latch was firmly secured when you suddenly noticed a speck of red spattered on the window sill near the source of your attention.

Tilting your head and leaning forward to get a better look, you squinted at it, running your thumb over the mark and noting the way it was slightly raised, like new paint on top of old.

You swallowed thickly, not wanting to admit to yourself what that probably was, but unable to stop yourself from allowing your mind to wander back to what had happened here.

Had he been afraid? Did he know he was going to die before he did, or had Lukas surprised him? Would he really have forgiven him if he could the way that John had said?

You pondered these questions with your eyes trained heavily on the stain, until the feeling of a warm hand on your shoulder caused you to let out a rather unattractive yelp as you fell into the side of the seated window sill.

Standing there with his hands up in an "I surrender" position, was Rupert, your friend who had driven you to the apartment.

"You left the doors open, so I figured you wanted me to follow you up here instead of wait for you to come back down."

He turned his attention towards the window, looking out of it for a few seconds as if searching for whatever you'd been so focused on.

"You good?"

Slowly, and with a bit of effort, you began to nod the affirmative in response, forcing a smile until you yourself started to believe it and stood to face your friend with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, I'm all good, I just freaked myself out is all. New house, new sounds kinda thing."

Rupert raised a brow but didn't say anything, no doubt thinking what you weren't willing to say. That someone had died here, and that the creepy feeling may not have had as much to do with sound as you were hoping it did.

Not wanting to have that conversation at the moment, you clapped your friend on the shoulder as you walked past him, propping the front door open even further once you reached it.

"Come on Rup, let's see how much furniture we can get up here before everyone else arrives. I bet Leo twenty bucks that we could get the couch inside just fine without his whiny ass helping."

Rupert rolled his eyes but followed you over to the door, exiting without hesitation in spite of the fact that you lingered for just a few more seconds, watching curiously as a shadow seemed to briefly creep out from the doorway of the room you had only just barely exited before disappearing entirely, as if someone had been standing in front of the window in there only to suddenly dissipate without warning.

"Hey Slowpoke, are you gonna come help me, or are we trying to increase the size of Leo's monster ego?!"

Your curiosity regarding the situation at hand disappeared immediately, replaced by your perhaps too competitive spirit, which had you following Rupert down the stairs and towards the moving truck without a second thought regarding the room with the doorway and it's strange happenings.

"Oh, and get this, when I told him about the project already being done, he still asked me to put his name on it, can you believe that prick?!"

Leo rambled, causing you and Rupert to make eye contact with one another before chuckling to yourselves, always amused by your friend's ability to find something to complain about, even during group events.

"I dunno man, maybe he just needed someone to cut him a little slack, would it really hurt to include him so he doesn't have to worry about his job?"

Jerry asked hesitantly, his twin brother Jeremy nodding in agreement beside him.

Leo rolled his eyes, though you could hear the annoyance in his tone falter as he addressed his friends,

"You guys just don't get it. Everyone used to mock me for setting up exhibits because they thought I was using my dad's influence instead of actually working, and now they want me to include them on my work? It's such BS..."

He trailed off, his voice growing quiet as he finished,

"But it doesn't really matter anyway, I already put his name on the credit listing."

He grumbled, making you smile before clapping him on the shoulder,

"Atta boy, Manfred, I knew you had a heart somewhere in there."

You teased, laughing when he shot you a glare before you held your hands up in surrender and reached past him to grab the bottle of wine sitting on the counter.

Currently, you were all sitting around the table, which was pushed against the wall opposite the counters and other appliances in your kitchen, except for Leo, who had hoisted himself up onto it shortly after starting his rant.

You held up the bottle to your friends, swirling it back and forth a bit,

"Anyone else need a refill?"

You asked, moving towards your other friends, Andy and Mary to refill their glasses when they held them out to you.

Pouring some of the wine into your own glass once you were finished with theirs, you took a long sip before sighing happily, smiling at your friends.

"Thanks for being here to help me out today guys, it really means a lot."

You said for what was probably the fourth or fifth time that day before continuing.

"When Will and I broke up, I wasn't sure if anyone would be willing to forgive me for shredding the friend group like that, and having all of you here by my side really has made all the difference."

You continued, laughing a bit as you began to tear up, leading Mary to stand and move to give you a hug, which you gladly accepted.

"You don't have to thank us, you goof ball."

Leo said from behind you, his hand patting your shoulder as Mary went to sit back down,

"Will didn't deserve you, we all saw how little effort he was putting in, and we were always gonna support you in leaving no matter what."

He said, and you watched as Rupert nodded in agreement before joining in himself.

"If anything, I think we all feel lucky that you still want to keep us around after not saying anything for so long. He was absent, and took you for granted constantly, and if I could go back in time and warn you sooner, I would have."

He muttered, causing you to shake your head before moving to hug him as well.

"I had to do it on my own."

You assured him,

"There wasn't anything you could've said, I was completely in denial about how little he cared for me until the very end, and even then it wasn't until after the break up that I learned how easily he could turn on someone that he used to claim to love..."

You trailed off as you looked over to the cat bed in the corner of the living room beside the glass doors.

There was a cat bed in every room, even the office in spite of how much it creeped you out, just in case William ever let you bring your best friend home with you instead of keeping her trapped there with him.

Jerry, having noticed where your gaze had fallen, piped up,

"We're gonna get Tallulah back."

He promised, and immediately Leo nodded,

"Dad says he's having one of his lawyers look into a few people who deal with pet ownership related cases often. If Will doesn't come to his senses soon, being served might help him find them."

He bristled, and you offered him a slightly somber smile in response,

"You guys are doing way too much for me, you know that?"

You asked, only to have Andy shake his head,

"Lu is your cat, you had her for three years before you and Will even started dating, you deserve to have her back."

You nodded in response, taking a deep breath before letting the stress of the day go to the best of your ability, wanting to spend these next few hours having fun with your friends again for the first time since your breakup had halted most hanging out.

There was silence for a few moments before Mary spoke up,

"Okay so who organized the party games, and where did they put them, because I am so ready to kick Jerry and Jeremy's asses at Cards Against Humanity tonight."

You laughed at that, raising a brow at your reigning champs who simply shrugged in unison before looking at each other with matching grins.

Oh yeah, tonight was gonna be a good one.

By the time everyone was leaving, it was 1:30am, and everyone was thoroughly exhausted after a day of moving and unpacking.

"Thanks again for coming guys."

You yawned out as you held the door open, matching their smiles as they left for the evening.

"Come back again soon, alright?"

Everyone vocalized their agreement, promising to plan out another game night soon before they all walked down the hallway.

Heading out onto the Balcony, you shivered in the chilly fall air, but watched as everyone got into their respective vehicles.

Rupert got into the moving truck he had rented, waving at you as he drove away, while Jerry, and Jeremy piled into the cramped back seat of Leo's fancy red convertible, which would be in dire need of a rood reattachment soon if the weather was any indication.

They beeped the horn at you as they drove off in the same direction as Rupert, heading deeper into the city where they all lived.

Mary and Andy meanwhile got into their shared car, a practical little sedan shortly after shouting their goodbyes up to you, and then they drove off in the opposite direction of everyone else, living about twenty minutes away in the more suburban area of Detroit.

After watching everyone leave, you sighed as you reentered your home, shutting the balcony doors behind you before walking into the kitchen, where you began cleaning up.

Leftover pizza and recorked wine were the only things in your fridge by the time you were finished, and you stifled a chuckle at the sight before working on drying and putting away the dishes.

It was then, as you were reaching up to put the final wine glass away in the topmost part of your cup dedicated cupboard, that the same sharp sound from earlier rang out again, causing you to jump with a gasp as the cup tumbled out of your fingertips and crashed off of the edge of the counter, spraying glass everywhere.

You pressed your hand against your chest, eyes squeezed shut for a few moments before you finally opened them, taking in the sight before you.

There was glass all over the place, littering your counters and even your oven, which made you groan when you realized how long all of this would take you to clean up.

Sighing, you grabbed your mini hand broom and dust pan and set out to work, silently thanking god that you had already put the pizza away so you didn't have to worry about accidentally eating glass for breakfast the next morning.

Doing your best to not miss anything, you spent the next fifteen minutes working on your counters, oven, and floors before finally, the job was done, and you were able to throw the shards into the trash.

Still, it wasn't quite time to settle in yet, because the current chill spreading throughout your bones was far too uncomfortable to ignore, and you knew exactly why it was happening.

The window.

Cursing under your breath, you flicked on the hallway light switch before making your way toward the office, where you attempted to turn that light on as well, only to find that it didn't work.

"Seriously?"

You muttered under your breath, sighing as you used the flashlight on your phone instead, allowing it to illuminate the dark office space as you walked towards the window.

Shuddering at the cold, you reached outward and pulled it back in again, latching it as firmly as you could manage before you stood up, relieved at the foregone feeling of autumn wind in your hair.

Still, as you turned around, you couldn't help but feel as if someone were watching you, and a nagging voice in the back of your mind begged you to run and leave well enough alone in favor of confronting whatever unknown thing could be lurking in the darkness.

Unfortunately for that voice, you had experienced discomfort within your last place for far too long, and you had no intention of doing the same here.

"Look, if this is the guy who died here I'm gonna have to ask you to quit it with the window opening, alright? It's cold as hell outside, and I don't want to pay extra for heat just because you want to play unlatch the window."

At that, you began walking towards the doorway, pausing once to add,

"And if you absolutely have to open it, don't do this shit at night, I almost pissed myself."

And with that said and done, you made your way towards your bedroom, where, despite your brave words, you immediately locked your door behind you.

Heart still hammering a bit from the previous scare, you were quiet as you got ready for bed, brushing your teeth and changing into your familiar set of pajamas (an old tee shirt and some men's boxer shorts) as quickly as possible, all too ready to put this day behind you in hopes that it had somehow all been a fluke, and that the mysteriously opening window and the shadow from earlier on in the day had some obvious explanation that only a good night's rest could provide you.

But if that was the case, you weren't about to get it.

Fruitlessly, you tossed and turned about all night, falling into bout after bout of fitful sleep as nightmare after nightmare plagued your mind.

Cats yowling, tires screeching, Will shouting, cries of your name, gunshots, and persistent sobbing all echoed throughout your mind until finally, you shot upright in bed for the final time at 7:08am on a Wednesday morning.

Groaning as you got up, eyes still bleary with sleep and wounded by pervasive sunlight, you made a beeline for the bedroom door, opening it before immediately walking into the far dimmer hallway, which was lit up solely by the windows lining your bedroom wall, and the windows lining the balcony door, both of which had light pouring in.

If you had been more awake, you might have noticed that the door to your bedroom was no longer locked, but with your mind still so groggy with restless sleep, you didn't think anything of it, and instead went to grab the only thing you could for breakfast: a cold piece of pizza.

Sighing, you opened your plate and bowl cabinet, groaning when you noticed how high up and far back Jerry had placed your plates.

The poor guy didn't have a mean bone in his body, but he definitely wasn't the most cognizant of others' personal struggles.

Like how you could in no way reach those plates without a boost.

Grumbling to yourself about how it was far too early for this shit, you placed your hands firmly on the counter to hoist yourself up, only to hiss in pain as you yanked your left hand away as if you had placed it upon hot coals.

"Motherfucker!"

You shouted, turning your palm towards you only to be met with a slightly gruesome sight.

There, lodged in the center of your hand, was a piece of glass about the size of your pinky nail, and it hurt like a bitch.

Not bothering to ruminate on how you could have possibly missed a piece of glass this big while cleaning up the night before, you rushed to the bathroom in the hall, yanking open the mirrored cabinet to find your band aids and a set of tweezers that you were almost certain Rupert had left upon realizing you didn't have any yesterday, because of course he carried tweezers around with him in case of emergencies.

Yanking the two supplies out of the cabinet, you briefly let your eyes search for anything else you might need, noting the peroxide and alcohol wipes sitting towards the end of the middle row.

'I just fucking cleaned this cup last night right before I broke it, there's no reason it should be dirty.'

Your injured brain shouted at you, and immediately, you moved to close the door, having decided that you wanted this to be over far too badly to bother cleaning it your wound.

But then,

"Yeah you're gonna wanna clean that."

You startled slightly as a voice you had never heard before spoke from what sounded like the left of you, though a quick glance in that direction yielded nothing of note.

What the fuck was going on here? Were you finally losing your mind?

You groaned as you grabbed the alcohol wipes and peroxide out of the cabinet as quickly as you could manage before all but slamming the mirrored door shut. You then lined everything up on the counter, sat yourself down on the closed toilet seat, and got to work.

"Shit."

You muttered to yourself as you began attempting to use the tweezers to pull the glass shard out of your hand, the pain causing your fingers to shake as you wiggled at the piece to dislodge it, brain clouded by pain and a slight sensation of fear.

"Don't twist the damn thing, just pull it straight. Hasn't anyone ever taught you how to take a splinter out before?"

There was that voice again, this time from your right, but you didn't even bother to look over this time, firmly believing that it was all in your head, some sort of coping mechanism for the pain.

You did as the voice said, pulling the piece straight out before sighing in relief, dropping it and the tweezers onto the bathroom counter, smearing the pristine surface with your blood.

Once that was done, you used an alcohol wipe, fighting back tears at the stinging sensation before forcing yourself to use the peroxide as well just to be safe.

You watched as the cut bubbled as you poured the liquid on to it, and you continued little by little until it stopped, which was when you were finally able to dry it off and use a band aid on it to help stop the bleeding (or at least to make it harder for you to see).

Sighing, you leaned your head back against the wall, injured hand hanging below you as you tried to catch your breath.

In reality, it had only been a few minutes, but that whole ordeal had felt like it had taken hours, and you were still exhausted from your poor night of sleep.

You were so exhausted in fact, that you had actually started to doze off while still seated atop the toilet seat when a persistent knocking sound jolted you awake.

Looking around the room for the source, you found nothing, and soon realized with a start that the sound was coming from your front door.

Groaning with effort, you heaved your tired body up, and, still in only your long pajama shirt and men's boxer shorts, made your way to the front door, which you swung open without even bothering to use the peep hole, since, in your eagerness to make the knocking stop, you had entirely forgotten about it's existence.

And with who was waiting for you on the other side, you really wished you hadn't.

Standing there was William, your ex boyfriend, with a cat carrier in hand.

His eyes gave you a once over before he had the decency to look away upon realizing you clearly hadn't expected a visitor so early in the morning.

"Will."

You said, eyes widening slightly before you regained control of yourself, clearing your throat a bit before continuing.

"How uh, how did you get this address?"

The man in front of you shrugged a bit before opening his mouth to answer.

"I asked Jerry. He was pretty hesitant to give it to me, and wanted me to call you about it instead, but when he heard it was about Tallulah, he gave me your complex address and apartment number."

He admitted, and you nodded before looking to the speaker and buttons beside your door, the ones you were supposed to speak to and buzz people in from.

"Wait, but how did you get up here? Did someone buzz you in?"

You asked, watching as confusion etched its way across your exe's features.

"Uh yeah I mean, I thought that you did."

He muttered, scratching at the back of his neck nervously,

"I hit the call button to your apartment for a second or two and the main entrance just kinda unlocked. I didn't even have to say anything. I figured you could see me from the balcony or something."

He said, gesturing over to the doors attached to the wall over to your left.

Your brow creased in confusion, wondering how you had missed the buzzing sound and who had let Will into the complex if you hadn't, but you shrugged it off, far more concerned at the mention of Tallulah than anything else.

"Is Lu alright?"

You asked, changing the subject entirely.

Will nodded.

"Yeah, she's fine, I just picked her up from an overnight at the vet, she wasn't eating."

At this, you grew even more concerned,

"Not eating? In what world is that fine, Will?"

You all but snapped, watching as the man in question shook his head in response, guilt present in his eyes.

"No no I mean it, the vet says she's fine, she just... misses you."

He finished, sighing a bit as he met your gaze once more.

"The vet said it would probably be best for her to live with you from now on if this is how she's reacting to you being gone already, so I wanted to drop her off. I would have called, but you never answer and I wasn't about to bring her home just to wrestle her into the carrier again later, so here I am."

He explained before reaching out to offer you the carrier.

"And here's Lu. I'm sorry I didn't just let you keep her in the first place. She's your cat, and I knew that, I just thought that if I didn't let her go, it might convince you to stay..."

Will trailed off, and you nodded solemnly as you took the carrier from him, briefly walking inside to place it on the couch before returning, your hand already poised to close the door.

"I know Will. Thank you for bringing her home."

You said gently, watching as your ex nodded before taking a step backward, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll see you around, alright?"

He muttered, and you waved to him in farewell before closing and bolting the door behind him, praying there would be no more unwelcome intrusions after that absolutely doozy.

Still, there was one thing to celebrate, and as you rounded the couch, you couldn't help but smile at the cat laying down inside of the gray carrier in front of you.

You opened it up slowly, wanting to let her come out at her own pace, but almost as soon as the door was open, Tallulah was calmly walking out to the edge of the couch, rubbing her brown head against your hands as you knelt down in front of her, instantly relieved to have her home.

You'd had her since she was a three year old stray that the previous tenant of your old rental duplex had been feeding prior to you moving in.

It had started off as you just giving her food, but soon enough you were inviting her inside as well, where she had eventually retired her outdoor cat status in favor of staying with you.

She was a beautiful little lady, even now at eight, which was when most cats tended to grow a little lax with their self grooming. She was entirely chestnut brown in color, with two stunning yellow eyes and an adorable pink nose.

Before Tallulah, you had never seen an all brown cat before, and you could still remember how shocked you'd been to hear she was a stray from your neighbor.

You smiled down at her as you recalled the fond memories of some of your first interactions, lowering your head so she could rub her soft face against yours, easing your mind of any and all stress instantly.

"I missed you so much, Lulah girl."

You murmured, reaching out to pet her only to falter when she bristled, looking straight past you as if there were someone there.

Fighting the urge to turn around for the second time that morning, you ran your hand down her back, smoothing down her slightly raised fur as you spoke to her gently.

"It's alright sweet girl, there's nobody else he-"

"Okay, so I'm kind enough to buzz that guy in for you while you incorrectly treat your wounds, and this is how you repay me? By forcing me to live with a cat?"

You shrieked, falling to the side as you turned to see where the voice had come from, only to see an ever so slightly translucent man standing there with his arms crossed.

"What the- who the hell are you?!"

You shouted, watching as the man rolled his eyes,

"What, you can't guess?"

You shook your head indignantly, hoping desperately that you would wake up from this strange nightmare soon.

The man sighed in response to your insistence, and raised a brow at you as if you were more than a little dumb for not figuring it out yourself already.

"I'm Sixty. You know, the guy who died here?"

masterlist

AO3

[seduce-me-imagines]

Journaled Confessions - James x Reader

A/N: My first fic on this blog! I can't wait to keep writing. For now, enjoy the first of many to come! I love this one with all my heart, and I hope you will too!

Pairing: James x Reader

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Cursing, mild violence (if you can call it that), self-doubting.

Enjoy!

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

Do you ever get the feeling that you're destined to fail? That whatever you do, it's all gonna come back and bite you in the ass? That's how you felt trying to gather your courage to tell James how you felt. 

You'd think it'd be metaphorically easy, confessing to a literal sex demon that he's all you think about at night. (Sorry Damien) But it's not. He's thwarted your efforts, whether conscious or not, every time you've tried to pull yourself together and tell him how you felt. 

There were many times you could remember trying to bring up love in a conversation or trying to ask him a question only for something else to catch his attention and squander your confidence completely. Or he just changed the subject and you never got to attempt to tell him how you felt at all. 

Living with him plus his brothers wasn't any help either. 

"SAM! Give it back!" You shouted at the middle incubus brother who had snooped in your room and grabbed your journal. He was in one of his teasing moods, and unfortunately Matthew was out of the house. So you got the brunt of his attack. 

Sam smirked at you, dangling the journal high up where you couldn't grab it. "Oh yeah? Why don't you just come up and get it?" He taunted. You growled, a snarl pulling onto your face. 

"I swear to god Sam-!" You cursed, making another dive for your journal as Sam tried to dangle it closer to you. You failed to grab it as Sam pulled it away just in time for your hands to barely touch it. He let out a cackle of laughter, holding the journal up close to the ceiling, making you huff with annoyance. 

"What? You afraid I'll find out all of your little secrets, Y/N?" Sam teased further. You were beginning to lose your patience. You now understood how Matthew felt when being teased by Sam. You really wanted to hit him somewhere it hurts. But you knew better. 

Your one mission here, although you were losing, was to keep Sam out of your private thoughts. Although it wasn't a secret, you thought no one else knew of your crush on the eldest incubus brother. You couldn't help it, there was something about him that you just couldn't place. Something that made your heart jump wildly in your chest when the two of you would read together in the library on his days off or when he'd watch your favorite show with you when the other boys wouldn't. Something about your show being too difficult to follow, or whatever that meant. James watched it with you though whenever he could, discussing it in much deeper detail than anyone else could. 

But you couldn't tell him about your feelings. They were silly! And besides, the boys meant a lot to you. You weren't about to ruin your peaceful co-existence with them by adding the awkwardness of a failed confession. So that was why you had to keep Sam from reading your journal. Because if your secret was in anyone else's hands, you knew for sure it'd end up back to James somehow. And then where would we be?

"Sam, just please give it back!" You sighed in exasperation as you pleaded once again for Sam to return your belongings. 

"No way! You're acting too protective for me to give it back now. I wanna know what Miss Y/N Anderson writes in her little journal-" Sam teased again as he turned to give you a mischievous smirk, failing to realize how low the journal had gotten because of his distraction. You took your chance and reached out for the journal, finally getting a good grip on it. 

Sam immediately began to pull back on it, making your grip loosen slightly around the journal. "Come on, I'm just playing around!" He teases again. You grip harder, pulling twice as hard to try and pull your private life from his hands. Albeit, you knew this was a losing battle. Once it was in Sam's hands, you were never getting it back. 

"I don't want you looking at my journal Sam!" You shouted again, pulling as hard as you could, refusing to give up even when you knew you were losing. If you could keep James from knowing, even if just a little longer, it was worth the effort to keep your relationship as it was. 

"What is going on here?!"

Suddenly you felt Sam's grip on the journal completely fall away, sending you tumbling back and crashing into the wall. You let out a groan of pain, a harsh throbbing beginning from where your head hit the wall. Your journal fell from your hands and laid on the hardwood floors as if cast aside. 

James appeared in front of you in the next instant, his whiskey brown eyes filled with worry as he examined you for any injuries. You felt your heart tighten as you watched him, his skin seemingly glistening in the rays of the sun that leaked through the window a few inches to your left. His hair seemed perfectly fallen atop his head, despite being finger-brushed. His touch was gentle as he caressed your shoulders and touched your head to inspect for any damage.

"Thank god you're alright. I don't see anything concerning. Though I have to ask, what was so important to be shouting about?" James spoke beside you, knelt down to your level. His voice was exasperated and filled with mild irritation. You felt your heart sinking as you looked up at him through the corner of your eye, knowing he had no idea how you felt. He never would, and you knew that well. 

 Your lip quivered as tears threatened to spill from your eyes not from the pain from your fall, but from the fact that you knew you could never tell him how you felt. Usually you'd save these tears for late nights. But something about your feelings almost getting out had turned you into a faucet. 

You covered your eyes with one of your hands, desperate not to cry. When your attempt failed, and you felt tears spilling into your hand, you let out a soft gasp and without a second thought you stood up and made a dash for your room, closing the door behind you. 

You could hear both James and Sam yelling from behind your door, but you couldn't make yourself care. You locked the door and, for good measure, pulled one of the armchairs in the room to the base of the door to block it from being opened. Just in case they managed to get it unlocked somehow. Although that probably wouldn't help with Sam in the picture, but you weren't exactly thinking clearly. 

You breathed heavily, slowly letting yourself sob as you cowered at the foot of your bed. You pulled your legs up to your chest, hugging your knees as you just let yourself cry harder than you can ever remember. 

He was perfect. He was the perfect gentleman and you didn't deserve him. You just so happened to be the one he and his brothers had found after being injured by Malix. You were sure he'd treat any and all other girls the same. You weren't special. 

You could hear James's voice soften as he continued to call your name and beg to be let inside. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to force his voice from your mind. 

"Miss please, open the door. You… you left your journal out here." 

You felt your body go rigid as fear entered you and your heart dropped completely into your stomach. How could you be so stupid as to leave your journal outside when it was the only place you poured all of your feelings for the man currently trying to coerce you into opening the damn door? What if he knew? 

What were you thinking? He probably already knew! Now you'd never be able to face him again. You'd have to ignore him for the rest of your life. 

You groaned and grabbed a pillow from the chair beside your bed and shoved your face into it. Like you could really ignore him for the rest of your life. James wouldn't allow that. If anything, he'd sit you down and then gently tell you that he only sees you as a close friend. God, you could already feel your heart breaking. 

You could feel your cheeks brighten with a raging fire of embarrassment. Your cheeks burned as you will yourself to at least shout one last thing to try and remedy the issue. "None of it's real! I didn't mean any of it!" 

The room was quiet for a moment, no sound came from either party on either side of the door. You thought for sure he'd taken your words and stood up to walk away. You kind of hoped he had. But that wasn't the case. 

A gentle rustling sounded from behind the door, alerting you to the small space between the door and the floor as you saw your journal being pushed into your room. 

You stared at it for a moment, unsure of what this was. You were surprised when James spoke up again. 

"I didn't read any of it, Y/N. Please, will you let me in?" James replied in a voice that you knew was genuine. He was worried, and you could feel his words lifting your heart slightly out of hope that he didn't know about your hopeless feelings. 

You stared at the door for a moment, almost as if you could see the man who was no doubt knelt behind it to try and talk to you. You felt your throat go dry, unsure of anything to say. 

Before you could really discern what you were doing, you found yourself on your feet and taking hold of the chair that you had moved in front of the door. You stopped for a moment, trying to decide whether you should truly let him in. 

Your heart gave a gentle thump, giving you your answer. You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes for the briefest of moments. When you opened them again, you pulled the chair away from the door and unlocked the door with a single click from the doorknob. You stood in front of the door, waiting for James to turn the knob himself. However, a moment passed and he still didn't open the door. Of course, ever the gentleman. 

You took another deep breath in before you rested your hand on the knob and slowly turned it. Upon opening the door, you found James standing there with concern swirling in his eyes. His eyebrows upturned as he gazed at you, probably looking for some sort of answer for your behavior. You sniffled softly and took a step back, looking down at the journal you'd forgotten to pick up. 

James's gaze followed yours, reaching down to grab it before holding back out to you. "I believe this belongs to you?" He spoke quietly. Nodding, you take the journal and press it against your chest. The two of you don't move for another couple moments, unsure of what first move to make. 

Eventually, you moved first and walked over to your bed, taking a seat. James followed, taking a seat beside you silently. You felt your heart jump at his closeness, before quickly stomping out the rising embers of a crush you knew you couldn't keep stoking. 

You sheepishly looked up into his eyes, not finding annoyance or any form of irritation at your behavior. You swallowed hard, wishing he would just say something. Anything. 

How was this man real? Incubus or not, he was a complete gentleman and you didn't know how to handle it. Who could blame you for your little crush? It wasn't hard to not fall for him. What with his shining smile, his just messy enough to be sexy hair, his well-kept appearance, the muscles you had a hard time ignoring when he would sit or move. Don't get you started on his personality. He was absolutely perfect, treating you like the princess Erik had dubbed you. And yet, he never complained. He never had one measly complaint about serving or helping you. 

But he didn't, obviously giving you the space to speak when you felt like it and to allow you to have his presence to help calm you in the meantime.

And what were you? A simple human girl who managed to have a panic attack over a stupid journal. You weren't sophisticated or well mannered enough for him. You knew that. You just couldn't be his type. 

You felt the storm brewing in your chest grow stronger, making it hard not to continue crying now that you've stopped. You rubbed your eyes free from remaining tears, returning your hands to your journal. 

"I…" you began, knowing that one of you had to say something or you were both going to stay silent for the rest of the day. "I'm sorry. You shouldn’t have had to see me like that." You managed to say just above a whisper. Anything louder was impossible. 

James slowly moved closer to you, his eyes never losing their concern as they continued to gaze upon you. "Don't apologize for your feelings. They're a part of you." James spoke softly, not making any more attempts to get closer to you. 

You sigh and look down again. Even now, he couldn't stop being the gentleman you had fallen in love with. You felt completely cared for in that moment, making opening up seem not so bad. You stopped yourself, determined not to burden James with your stupid feelings. 

James swallowed for a moment, before he began to speak again as calmly as he could. "What I'm concerned about, is how you're feeling, Y/N. First, I rush upstairs after hearing you and Sam yelling, then you manage to hit your head and run off before I can even evaluate what the situation was." James was concerned about you, that was evident as his body subconsciously moved closer to yours as you tried to put some distance between you by scooting a bit away. 

"I'm just worried about you. What did Sam do that troubled you this much?" James continued, his gaze never leaving your form. You continued to stare downwards, trying to think of a way to avoid your feelings. He didn't need to know. It was better that he didn't. 

"It…" you began, sighing for a moment as you tried to recollect yourself. "It's nothing, James. Really. Sam was just playing around and took my journal after snooping in my room. It's not that big a deal." You explain, refusing to look him in the eyes. You hoped he would take the bait and drop the conversation, but that was wishful thinking. 

James frowned. "But it's hurting you, Y/N. You can't tell me it isn't a big deal if you're still bothered by it. Especially to this degree." James expressed, laying a hand on your shoulder. You wanted it so badly to have caressed your cheek instead. The thought almost had you in tears. 

"You don't get it… It isn't a big deal, cause it only affects me." You respond softly with a small white lie, sniffling as tears try to escape again. James's hand tightened a bit at your comment, taking a deep breath out of disbelief. 

"What? You can't be serious, Y/N. Of course it affects us. Your well-being and safety are my brothers and I's top priority. You mean a lot to us. A lot… to me. " James spoke earnestly, looking away as he finished his statement. What? What did he mean by that? 

You made yourself look at him, confused as to what he had meant. Before you could ask, he spoke again. "Just… just know we all care about you. Even Sam. Although he sometimes has a hard time showing it." James added, grumbling as he mentioned his middle brother. 

You took another breath, your mind completely occupied with trying to decipher what James had meant before. "I… James…" you began, unsure of how to inquire what he had meant. "W-what did you mean before, when you said that I meant a-a lot to you?" You manage to ask. James's eyes widened at your question, swallowing nervously. 

"I-I… it's uh…" he began, seeming to swap his demeanor with you. "You are special to everyone, t-that is…uh…" James added, his cheeks growing slightly pink with embarrassment. 

You couldn't believe your ears or your eyes. Was… was James blushing? Avoiding your question as though there was more that he was keeping from you?

You scoot closer to him, a newfound confidence blooming inside you. Could he just so happen to feel the same? And you were just blind to it all this time? 

"I know I'm special to you boys. But you said I was specifically special to you…" you reiterated, hoping that you weren't making the issue worse. 

James blushed harder at your closeness, but he didn't move. He just swallowed and averted his eyes. "Y-yes…I…" he started, sighing in defeat. "There is no way I'm getting out of this, is there?" He asked no one in particular. You shook your head, a new playful mood taking hold of you. James looked up into your eyes, a smile pulling onto his lips. "Well at least you've cheered up." He says softly. You smile gently, staying silent out of respect for the eldest incubi. 

James's whiskey colored eyes filled with doubt and a small twinge of… fear? You couldn't help but feel dumbfounded at that. Fear? Of what? 

"Y/N…" he began, his eyes finding yours and staring intently into them. "You mean a lot to me. Our time together is my favorite thing in this world and the next. The thought of spending time with you, whether it be reading some new novel you've found or watching that show when the new episodes come out, it makes my day that much better just by thinking of you." 

You felt your heart squeeze with a new hope. He… he really enjoyed your time together that much? You looked down at his hand that remained in his lap, finding it clenched tightly in a nervous fist. 

James looked away, taking his hand and running it through his hair nervously. "I believe what I'm trying to say is… I… I like you a lot, Y/N. More than I probably should." James spoke, finally looking into your eyes as he spoke. In almost a split second, everything slipped into place. You stared at James, dumbfounded. Was he seriously confessing to you right now?! 

James sighed almost in defeat, finding it in himself to look back into your eyes. "I don't expect you to fully reciprocate, Y/N. Please, don't feel that you have to. You just… you deserve to know that people care about you. More than you believe that they should." James expressed with a look of determination that quickly overtook his doubt. 

You stared back at him, dumbfounded and in shock once again. This man was seriously surprising you again. He felt the same way? Seriously? Your silly little crush wasn't just a crush? You scrambled through your mind to try and communicate that you truly did reciprocate, coming up with blanks for a few seconds. 

Then, it hit you. The realization almost hits you like a truck. 

You pull your journal from your chest and quickly open it, surprising James with the sudden movement. He raises an eyebrow, confused as to what you're doing. 

"Miss--What are you–" he started, never actually finishing his statement as you had flipped to the page you were looking for. 

"Tuesday the 16th, I cannot keep living like this. Every moment I spend with him is another moment where I can't stop looking at him with the undeniable urge to kiss him. I can't hear him speak to me without wondering just what it would be like for him to call me something other than 'Miss'. I can't help but wonder what sweet nothings he would say to me and only me if only I were his. This is absolute torture. What did I ever do to deserve him?" You finish the page, flipping it quickly. James stares at you, unsure of how to even begin as you begin another page. 

"Thursday the 18th, he sat beside me today. It wasn't that big a deal, we were just watching some new show. But I couldn't stop thinking about what it would look like if he were the guy I was watching on the screen and I was the leading woman. His love interest. And then he goes and smiles at me with that damned sunshine-personified smile that melts my insides and turns me into moldable putty. If he asked me to do anything, all he'd have to do is flash me that smile and I'm a goner.How can he not know the power he holds?" You read, not even looking at James at this point, turning to the next page and reading the next entry. 

"Friday the 19th, I cannot keep doing this to myself. He just made breakfast. But he was such a gentleman while doing it. Don't get me started on how he looked in that apron, I can't get that image out of my head. He made my pancakes seperate from the rest, adding blueberries to mine while the others had plain ones. What did I do to deserve having this man in my life? I don't deserve him, I don't think I ever will." You finished the third entry, ready to go onto the next, but you saw James's hand lay itself onto your journal, stopping you from continuing. You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him, seeing him staring intently at you with his loveable whiskey brown eyes. 

He didn't speak, his eyes seemingly searching for answers in yours. You look down at his hand and place yours on top of his. You gathered what confidence that remained in your chest and spoke up again. 

"Page after page of my gushing over how much I like you and how much I wish I could just kiss you and it have no consequences. Pages of my shameless rambling over a man I have wanted since I met him. That's what I didn't want Sam to see. I didn't want him reading this and then going running to you. Because then… if you didn't feel the same?" You paused, looking away as you began to lose confidence with James's lack of a reaction.

 "Then life wouldn't be the same. I wouldn't be able to look at you without knowing I screwed things up by having stupid feelings. I wouldn't be able to sit and read with you in silence knowing I ruined everything by having feelings for a demon when I'm just some measly human-" you continued to rant, growing frantic and slightly louder as you unloaded almost years of uncertainty upon the object of your affections. 

The thing that stopped you, however, was the sudden touch of his lips against yours. 

Completely blindsided, you widen your eyes at the sudden kiss. Soon, however, you melt into it, feeling James's lips soften and press slightly harder back against yours. You tilt your head just a bit, pressing your lips back against his own. You lean closer to him, raising one of your hands and placing it on the back of his head and pulling him closer to you. You don't feel the drain of your energy that you'd come to expect from an incubi kiss, but instead feel the spark of something in your core. Like a fire being relit after having been stomped out one too many times. 

James lifts his hand from where it had laid on your shoulder and laid it on your cheek, cupping your face in his palm. Your heart began to pump faster in your chest, feeling as though it might give out. His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer to him and practically into his lap. You didn't mind. You wanted this, you wanted to be as close to him as possible. 

Your lips danced with each other, his tongue brushing against your lips and asking for permission to deepen it. You don't think twice. You press yourself closer to him, pulling his face closer to yours. It was perfect, the kiss was everything you dreamed of. It was a shame it had to end. 

James finally pulled away after a few moments, panting as he had run out of breath. A string of saliva connected your mouths, reminding you of the previous moment's events He stared at you unblinking, his eyes slightly blown with a want. A need. 

After a moment of catching his breath, James's hand left your waist and pulled your hand from his neck and held it close. "You… are not just…'some measly human', Y/N. You are everything to me. I will not let you put yourself down like that." He insists, staring directly into your eyes with a newfound determination.

"...James…" you reply, feeling your heart pounding again in your chest somehow faster than it had during your kiss. 

"I wish I had known how you felt sooner. Then maybe we could have avoided you and Sam wrestling over a journal. Maybe then… this wouldn't have to feel so rushed." James added, his free hand leaving your cheek and rubbing his neck awkwardly. As he looks away from you, you lean in and press a gentler kiss to his cheek, catching his attention again.

"Nothing can change how I see you, Y/N. You are an amazing woman and I am honored that you let us stay here. That we are allowed occupancy in your home despite being what we are. You may not see it, but when I look at you I see the most beautiful woman in all five worlds. You talk of my smile? Yours could bring me to my knees if you commanded it." James rattled off in earnest, smiling brightly as he described just how much he cared for you. Maybe, maybe even loved you. 

"It's okay, James. I'm fine. I told you, the journal wasn't that big a deal. I was just worried you'd find out and then-" you began again, quickly getting cut off by James. 

"James… I…" you stop, smiling and gasping as you try to come up with a reply. He shook his head. 

"You don't have to keep convincing me, Y/N. I am yours, for as long as you want me. I will remain by your side till the end of time should you wish for it." James replied, his hand reaching up to your cheek again and cupping your face. "You, are the light of my life. I don't know what I'd do without you." James looked into your eyes lovingly, almost squandering the remaining doubt inside your chest. His next words completely silenced them. 

"I love you, Y/N." 

You felt a sob catch in your throat and you immediately swallowed it, tears flowing from your eyes soon after. James widened his eyes at the sudden appearance of your tears, looking into your eyes in hopes that he hadn't upset you. Before he could speak, you lean in again and kiss him tearfully. His hesitance melted away once more as he gently kissed you again, somehow pulling you even closer. 

"Oy, could you lovebirds knock it off? Somebody still needs to make lunch." Sam's voice echoed into the room, quickly ruining the moment. You didn't have to be Damien to feel the anger radiating off of James as he pulled away and turned to his brother with a hardened glare. 

"Then why don't you make it, Sam? You're perfectly capable of cooking yourself." James retorted, clearly annoyed that his moment with you was ruined. Sam gave his eldest brother a look of annoyance. 

"But isn't it supposed to be your job? I tried cooking and you got mad at me for making a mess!" Sam reminded, only making his situation worse. James huffed, almost growling. 

"Then be careful to NOT make a mess while you do it. I'm busy." James snapped, his hold on your hand remaining but tightening at the annoyance of his brother. Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged. 

"Fine. I'll just tell you that again later when you get mad that the kitchen's a wreck." Sam tossed back, soon after heading back down the stairs and clearly to the kitchen. James huffed again, turning his head back to you. 

"I swear it's like I live with ruffians." James growled. You giggled softly and kissed his cheek. James soon let go of his anger and instead looked at you with love. 

"I love you too, James." You spoke gently, catching him off guard for a moment. His whiskey irises danced with the wonder of your statement as he began to smile. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, his smile bright and happy. You smiled back, realizing that no words needed to be said. 

"JAMES! HELP! Sam tried to make spaghetti, and the sauce is literally everywhere!" Matthew's voice called back up the stairs, sounding urgent. You rolled your eyes, snickering. James grumbled and sat back, shaking his head. 

"I cannot even take five minutes for myself." James muttered under his breath. He stood up, his hands leaving you reluctantly. You stood after him, standing beside him. 

"It's alright. It's to be expected." You began, giggling as you thought of Sam somehow spraying the spaghetti sauce all over the kitchen. You place your hand in his and smile. "Nothing we can't fix." 

James looked at you and smiled again, squeezing your hand. "Alright. Now let's see just how much of a mess we're dealing with here." He sighed, pulling you alongside him as you both made your way downstairs into the fray.

[magic-crazy-as-this]

PENELOPE TODD / RED PHOENIX playlist

Eager to prove herself to both her brother Jason's memory and her superhero family, Penelope Todd, aka Red Phoenix, takes to the streets of Gotham... or at least the twenty blocks of her small island neighbourhood. But with a mysterious figure in a red hood and a strange cabal of Tarot-themed terrorists watching her every move, Penelope finds that being a hero may not be everything she'd dreamed.

The songs in this playlist are arranged to form a narrative, I highly recommend listening in order if possible!

(Open in Browser/external program, not mobile/app, and it should go in order without Premium)

Penelope made a choice... or rather, it seemed to make itself. She would go to Gotham. She would become the kind of hero who would make her brother proud.

Let the Flames Begin - Paramore Somewhere in weakness is our strength, and I'll die searching for it.

Do What You Want - OK Go Screaming at the top of your lungs, saying "Come on come on, do what you want, what could go wrong?"

The Great Escape - Boys Like Girls Throw it away, forget yesterday, we'll make the great escape. We won't hear a word they say, they don't know us anyway.

Wake Me Up - Avicii They say I'm too young to understand, say I'm caught up in a dream. But life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes.

Speeding - Lights The world in the rear-view mirror doesn't shake me, I haven't looked back there lately.

Sweet and Low - Augustana (This is Jason's song to Penelope) Ain't gonna make the same mistakes that put my momma in her grave, I don't wanna be alone. So hold me down, sweet and low little girl. Hold me down, sweet and low and I will carry you home

Where We Belong - Thriving Ivory Hold on, we're gonna make it if it takes all night, hearts racing like a rocket at the speed of light, don't fight it we've been running for far too long. We're going back where we belong.

When Penelope finally made it to Gotham, she found a yawning abyss of madness waiting for her. But she wasn't about to let that stop her.

Warning Call - CHVRCHES Say you'll remember to keep it all inside. You can run for the skyline, your eyes open wide

Show Me What I'm Looking For - Carolina Liar I'll pay any cost to save me from being confused

Learn to Fly - Foo Fighters I'll make my way back home when I learn to fly

Lights - Ellie Goulding I had a way then losing it all on my own. I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown

Once a week, sometimes even more often, a strange figure wearing a red hooded mask would follow Penelope on her patrols: breaking windows, firing guns at midnight, disrupting the peace. She had a feeling she knew this person and what he wanted from her.

Red Like Roses, Part II - Casey Lee Williams, Sandy Casey I couldn't take it, couldn't stand another minute. Couldn't bear another day without you in it. All of the joy that I had known for all my life was stripped away from me the minute that you died.

The Mother We Share - CHVRCHES Come in misery where you can seem as old as your omens. And the mother we share will never keep your proud head from falling

My Hero - Foo Fighters There goes my hero. He's ordinary. Reconciliation is never easy, but with a family like Penelope's, it was always worth it.

Latchkey Kids - Silversun Pickups We're outside and free from all tethers. So get off the floor if you're under the weather. What's in store is not so unusual.

We Are Golden - MIKA Teenage dreams in a teenage circus, running around like a clown on purpose. Who gives a damn about the family you come from? No giving up when you're young and you want something. Together, Penelope Todd and the Batkids resolve to take down the villainous members of ARCANA, together. Although their enemies were wealthy and powerful, they have never once had to learn how to lose something and Penelope Todd and her family will teach them!

You Get What You Give - New Radicals This whole damn world could fall apart. You'll be okay, follow your heart. You're in harm's way, I'm right behind.

Fight Gods - The Garages We're gonna fight gods, fight gods and we're gonna win. And nothing's gonna be the same again.

It seemed like all hope was lost. Being scrappy and determined was not enough when your enemies have no remorse, no mercy, no heart.

Part II - Paramore Dancing all alone to the sound of an enemy's song. I'll be lost until you find me.

No, it couldn't end like this. Not here, not now. Not while Penelope could still breathe. Not when Red Phoenix could still fight.

This Will Be The Day - Casey Lee Williams They see you as small and helpless. They see you as just a child. Surprise when they find out that a warrior will soon run wild.

Other Playlists

Jason Todd / Red Hood

Unnecessary Feelings (Phoenix Wright x Miles Edgeworth)

[sofiiel]

Dial Tone Ch.2 | One Last Look

Chapter Theme | Previous | Masterlist | Next

It's been two and a half weeks, one week of awkward passing in the hallways, stopping by each other's lockers out of habit, attempts at conversations that feel so strained that they usually end up with one of you offering to walk away. That good old 'it never happened', tactic.

It's a slow knife, that reopens a wound trying to build scar tissue.

But it's coming to a halt, Eddie no longer looks at you from across the lunchroom, you no longer feel his gaze burning a hole into the back of your head in class. You miss that deadpan stare, "but at least he isn't hurting too much anymore. At least one of us is on the mend." You think as you stuff your belongings into your locker.

You, however, were driven right into the office of the school guidance counselor, something you never thought you'd need again. Therapy, but here it was again, and it was your saving grace for peace of mind.

"Hey Y/n,"

Turning around, she offered a tired smile to Mike and Lucas. "Um," Lucas murmurs as he and Mike glance at each other. "We were wondering if you were going to be at the pep rally today." Mike asked.

"I...wasn't" You admit. You'd planned on ditching, why? Because you knew who'd there. Maybe not for long but he'd be there for sure if only to get a glimpse of her, she was quickly falling back into the place she held in middle school.

You didn't mind, but you couldn't watch it.

Mike and Lucas looked at each other again. "Oh," was all they could say. You gave your head a shake as another one of their parent trap style plans had fallen through before it had a chance to start.

"Listen, guys, it makes happy and all sentimental that you two want Eddie and I back together. That you care so much. It's just...not in the cards. We're both ok with that." You explain.

Lucas opens his mouth wide to protest, only to have Mike's hand cover his mouth. "Alright, well, we tried, right Lucas?" Mike asked. Lucas looked at his friend in confusion.

"I'll see you guys around." You say with a wave goodbye, heading up the hall.

"What?" Lucas asked Mike. "Eddie's not ok with it." He added. "Yeah, but she/he is, Eddie's....dealing with it. You can't force people on each other." Mike said.

"It's not forcing them on each other if they both want it, She/he's clearly faking and miserable." Lucas reasoned. "And Eddie's turned into a grump, He went from supporting me joining the team to trowing a tantrum when practice makes me late." Lucas added.

"It's because it cuts into campaign time." Mike said with a shrug.

"It's because, Y/n missed so many days before the break-up, and he misses them. He's lashing out and everyone else." Lucas shot.

Mike shook his head, "give Eddie a break, he won't be like this forever. You understand, just look at you and Max." Mike said.

"Yeah, I understand. That's how I know they aren't ok, either of them." Lucas sighed.

" Go support your tigers! Pep Rally! To the gym, everyone!" A teacher called out behind them. The two boys glanced at each other and turned around.

Eddie lingered in the shadows of the bleachers, leaning against the metal rows of uncomfortable seating, his fought a smile as he watched Chrissy lead the Hawkins cheer team through their routine. The bright smile on her face and the twinkle in her eye was infectious.

With a silent sigh, he leaned his head against the stands, finally smiling to himself.

Curiosity then prickled at his core, standing on his tip toes he peaked at the stands. "Is she/he here?" He found himself wondering. He searched the sea of faces, but did not find the one he was looking for.

Eddie slowly lowered himself to stand flat, his gaze on the floor. Taking one more glance at Chrissy, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and slipped out of the Gym.

Somewhere inside there was a small hope that you'd show up, that at some point through the day he would have the chance to pluck up the courage to invite you to the final night of the campaign.

"It just won't be the same without her/him." Eddie thought, heading towards his friends as they gathered by Gareth's locker.

"It feels like I'm suffocating some days." You confess as you sit in the chair of Ms. Kelly's office.

"I want to put Hawkins behind me, n-not those who matter. Just the bad. My grades have improved a lot, but I'm exhausted all the time. All I do is work and study. I know it's what killed my relationship, and I know I'm probably way too driven lately. But every year in this place scares me silly." you ramble.

"Y/n," Ms. Kelly calls out to you in a quiet grounding voice.

You look up at her, "Breath." she reminds you.

You exhale and murmur, "thanks."

"Have you tried working on time management?" Ms. Kelly asked. You give a nod, "I'm trying to, I bought a day planner recently, but it's already full." you admit.

Ms. Kelly wrote notes down in a book as she nodded. "And have you spoken to Eddie lately?" She asked.

You look away, "no." the words fall out feebly.

"You can't keep avoiding him. It's clear it's effecting your focus and likely why you're over working yourself." Ms. Kelly reasoned.

"Watch me try. It's just awkward and painful. It's actually probably better that we haven't talked. I'm ok." You say quickly.

There's a hesitant knock at the door. "Next week, same time." Ms. Kelly said. You gave her a knock and opened the door. Max squinting up at you, you vaguely knew each other through the boys of Hellfire.

You knew of her brother. She seemed surprise to see you leave the office. "Ms. Kelly's all yours." You say, stepping out of Max's way and heading down the hall.

"Hey! Y/n!" Jeff's voice calls out to you. You could hear his feet break into a jog behind you. You bring your steps to a slow and let him catch up.

"Jeff?" you question, the boys of Corroded hadn't had much to say to you in the past few days. "I know If you tell anyone I came to you, they'll chew me out." Jeff warned.

"But tonight's the last night of the campaign. I know you aren't in it anymore, but if you wanted you know...closure,"

You arch a brow.

"I mean for the story, plot closure." Jeff quickly elaborated, "you could come by. Listen in." He offered.

You suck in your lips, something inside wanted to go, more than anything. "I um... I have work." you whisper. Jeff studied your face. "He'd be ok with it, you know." He pushed.

"No he wouldn't" You say with a shake of your head and a smile. "But thanks." You turn and head for your locker.

Opening the door, you stick your head inside and release a frustrate sigh. "This would be easier if people would let me try and move on." You think.

"U-um.....Y/n....right?" a timid voice called.

You froze, "you've got to be kidding." your mind screams. Taking in a deep breath, you carefully close the door and turn to face Chrissy with a smile.

"I, I know we don't really talk, but." She stammered, offering a nervous smile. "I remember this one time in Junior High we were study partners and we, we raised that egg baby for Mr. McFarren's class." She said.

You snickered faintly, "yeah, we dropped it during the presentation, and yoke went everywhere." You say. Her smile brightens, "it was all over our shoes, and we had to clean the carpet after school." she went on happily.

Chrissy Cunningham was one of those people who got along with everybody. A queen loved by all of her subjects simply because she carried herself like one of them.

"What can I help you with?" You ask her with a nod. Chrissy glanced around, "well you're dating Eddie Munson right?" she asked. "I used to be, not anymore." You strain, the words are harder to say out loud.

Sensing the pain Chrissy looked at you with sympathetic eyes, "oh, I'm sorry, then- nevermind I can ask Gareth or-" she said, you give a shake of your head.

"Ms. Kelly says I should talk to him anyway, so it's fine. What do you need?" you sigh.

Chrissy glanced around again and leaned in whispering behind her hand, "does he still....you know, sell...stuff."

You can't help but chuckle, "stuff?" you teased, Chrissy blushed slightly in embarrassment. "Yes, he does. Is that what you need? You want me to set up a deal?" You ask.

"Ugh, saying it like that." Chrissy groaned. "Don't sweat it, you'll get no judgement from me," you say, reaching into your pocket and revealing a roach clip containing a blunt smoked to the nub. "It's lasted me a week, though. Cutting back." You hum.

Chrissy gave a nod, "please, if it's not too much trouble?" Chrissy asked.

You give a nod, "leave it to me." you say, before heading off to lunch.

"I can't believe I'm doing this. Just sending her right off too him. But maybe....it'll help him somehow." You ponder on your way.

A text book sits off to the side of your lunch bag, and your hand flickers with a pen as you widdle down a homework assignment in advance.

These past weeks, school and work have been your life. You've thrown yourself into it and on the bad days, you break into what's left of your weed stash even if it reminds you of him.

Your ears burn as you hear the members of Hellfire chatting at their usual table. The bitterly sweet sound slips a smile onto your face despite yourself.

"Ugh, have you seen the new article?" Jeff asked, passing the magazine to Eddie, who quickly buried his face in it, he gave it a quick glance over and then scoffed. "Oh this is good, they're really trying this time boys, listen." He said. Before reciting the article out loud.

Eddie scoffed, "psychologists are concerned, tell that to my ex" he said.

"Nope still stings." Eddie thought, mentally kicking himself.

"She/he loves, the shit, even if they've temporarily lost their mind and forgot how much." Eddie rambled in a mutter. He needed another distraction, the article served a very short purpose, and it was taking everything in him not to look your way again.

Luckily, Mike and Dustin walked up just in time.

"You're going to have to get up at some point and ask Eddie to meet Chrissy. Just go over there and tell him you need to talk to him." You tell yourself in your head.

"or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!"

You hear Eddie's voice echo through the lunchroom, and it instantly draws your eye to his table. Of which he was standing on top of, with the stance of a peacock that usually came after a strut you knew well.

A smile came to your face, and you quickly tried to hide it as for a moment he looked your way. Lowering your head back down, you got down a note and fold it up quickly. Packing away your lunch and taking up your book and notes, you get to your feet.

"Ok, it's no different from talking to Jeff or the minis. Just walk up and hand him the note. Simple." You silently try to motivate yourself.

But you're lost in watching Eddie as he continued to rave and annoy Jason and the team. "It's forced conforming," he said, and a pang of guilt surged through you as you remembered your last conversation with him, "that's what killing the kids!" he shouted, leaping down from the table.

You shake your head and sigh as he bows, stepping to make way for two of the cheer team. You can feel your heart fluttering, "don't go doing that." you think to it. Drawing in a deep breath to head over to him.

Eddie's smile fades as he sees you approach. He can feel his heart thundering and his pulse race. "She/he's coming over." his mind shouted as he tried his best to remain calm.

Briefly stopping near him, you hold out the folded note between two fingers. His eyes lock into yours, before slowly looking down at the note. "She/he's so close I can smell the Yardley soap." Eddie thought as he wordlessly took the note from you, his fingers brushing against yours nearly popped your lungs as you drew in a quiet breath.

Your feet swiftly carried you away as you could feel the stares of Hellfire watching.

Mike's eyes followed you from the Hellfire table, Fjora was written out of the campaign. Their patron deity lifted the eternal sleep to call Fjora for a mission, Fjora left and has not returned.

That was the same night Eddie explained that You would not be returning to Hellfire for a while, if at all, and the break-up. The club each had their own opinions about it all, but one thing was clear, Eddie still wasn't taking it well.

The group watched Eddie as his eyes lingered on the note in his hands. He opened it with a soft touch, as if afraid to rip the paper.

"Hey there, Mellon. Meet me at my locker. I need to ask you something for a friend." the note read. "Jesus, you read it in her/his voice." Eddie thought. Struggling to keep the smile off his face. "Mellon" he hadn't heard that in a while.

Eddie carefully folded up the note and tucked it in his back pocket.

"Go away! Go away!" a shrill, frantic scream came from the girl's bathroom. You nearly drop your things as you dash up the hall towards the bathroom.

"Hello?" you call, trying to open the door, but it's jammed.

"Hello? Is everything alright in there!" you shout, banging against the large metal door.

You can hear faint panting on the other side. "Y/n?" someone finally answers.

"Cunningham?" you question back, baffled.

"Are you...the door's stuck. If you near it, back away." You instruct. "Okay." her voice calls back weakly. You give her time to move and then kick at the door, and it flies open.

Once inside the bathroom, you look about, no Chrissy.

"Down here." She stammers as if ashamed. Your gaze falls to the bathroom floor. Tears stain her cheeks and her eyes are red.

"H-hey, whoa...what happened?" You ask her gently, stooping down. Chrissy shakes her head, her eyes saying, 'I can't tell you.'

"Ok, that's ok. you're ok now." You urge quietly. Standing up, you hold out your hand and help the spooked girl to her feet. "I'll be meeting with Eddie soon ok, You'll need to meet him behind the school, through the woods you know the old bench?" You ask Chrissy carefully.

She sniffles and nods. "Good, that's where he's going to want to meet. Head there once the final bell rings" You tell her.

"Will you be there?" she asks.

"No," you muse, "but I promise, Eddie's a lamb. You'll be just fine." You tell her as you smile.

After your final class and the bell rings you linger you head to your locker, and from up the hall you spot Eddie is already there. Leaning against it, making marks on the tiles with his shoes and then erasing them.

"Stop being silly, it's just Eddie." you tell yourself to calm your jitters.

"Hey," you greet him. Eddie quickly moves away from your locker as you open it and store your books inside, "hey there gorgeous," the words slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself. "I didn't mean...ignore me, old habits, all that." Eddie said quickly, holding his hands in the air slightly.

You hold your breath, silently screaming. Forcing your composure, you close the door to your locker and clear your throat. "Anyway, thanks for coming." You say, pretending to ignore it as best you could.

"Yeah. Of course." he said.

You take a step nearer to him, and Eddie can feel his mind spinning, "Chrissy Cunningham wants to buy some of your product." You whisper quietly.

Eddie's eyes flutter, he steps closer as well, "you're shitting me, right?" he asks. You look up at him, and it dawns on you how close you two are. You suck in your lips to hold in a scream. He offers the faintest smirk.

"Pull yourself together, this is important." You tell yourself.

Exhaling, you match his gaze, even if it makes your heart want to burst.

"I'm for real. She's having a hard time, she could use it. She needs your help. Chrissy's scared of what people will think, and of you. I just saw her in the bathrooms... I know what it looks like when a person is falling apart." you explain.

Eddie blinked several times, "so it is over. She/he's pushing her right at me, that's got to be what this is." Eddie thought.

"Eddie?" you ask, you had to, with him just quietly staring at you, you didn't know how much longer you could take it. Not when standing this close, not with that faint scent of hairspray and his soft lips so near.

You mentally smack yourself. "Pull yourself together."

"Alright, yeah. I got you, eh...her don't worry." Eddie said taking a step back. "You told her to wait at the bench?" he asked. You give him a nod, "yep, she'll be headed there at the final bell." you hum.

Eddie nods and turns to walk away. He slows his steps in hopes that you had more to say. Though as the silence lingers he turns around, "Um, Thing One and Thing Two might come looking for you. Lucas bailed for his big game. They're hunting down a sub." Eddie says to you, walking backward up the hall.

"I told them you're probably going to the game, or working, so..." he lulled. "Please be free." his mind whispered.

"Yeah, I already told Jeff that I had to work, when he invited me to the final campaign." You reply. You weren't sure if you'd imagined it, but it looked as if Eddie deflated just a little.

"Good, that's..." He sighed, "great" his mind groaned. "I'll make sure to let them, know." He said.

"Anyway you should get going, the girl is spooked, don't keep her waiting." you warn him. Eddie nods and takes his leave.

As you watch his that Dio patch get further away, a chill shivers down your spine, and your breath catches in your throat. The feeling is dizzying, like the drop of the roller coaster. "What was that?" you whisper to yourself.

"Eddie!" you call out for him, unsure why. But he's already rounded the corner and you've gone unheard.

"It's probably nothing..." you tell yourself, turning to head for the exit as the final bell rang.

As Eddie walked through the trees, it seemed far more still than usual. The world was quiet, leaving him to his loud thoughts and blaring regrets.

He could spot Chrissy through the trees, and as he approached her, she nearly screamed.

"Whoa, hey," Eddie called out carefully, "sorry." he chuckled offering a disarming smile, Chrissy sighed in relief, "I didn't mean to scare you." He said.

Chrissy watched as he walked to the table, "you sound just alike." Chrissy murmured. "Who?" Eddie asked glancing over his shoulder, "you and Y/n, when she/he, um helped me earlier." Chrissy spoke timidly.

Eddie turned his head to hide a short-lived smile, at the bitter ache in his chest. "Yeah, we get that sometimes. Anyway, you've got nothing to worry about, we're safe." Eddie said, taking a seat.

Chrissy took the bench across from him and carefully look around. "No one ever comes out here, I promise." he said.

"So, how does this work?" Chrissy asked.

You focused hard as you wrote onto a clip board, listening to the sounds of an engine that just didn't want to get up and running. "Jesus, it needs a new engine too?" You ask Harvey as he leans out the window of the customer's car.

"The list keeps growing, I can't complain, it's a nice payday for everyone. But Phil really needs to just let this old clunker go." Said Harvey.

Turning to a large white van pelted in dents and scratches, you point your pen at it. "Who's poor ride is that?" You ask. "Bunch of strange kids, little older than you. They had to push it in here. Said they'd needed to get out of town soon. But they won't be going anywhere in that bad boy." said Harvey.

"Huh," you sigh. "What's wrong with it?" you ask.

"It's shot up like a junky, that's what." he replied.

"And you took their business? That's suspect, Harv. What if the thing is stolen?" you eye the van carefully.

"I don't turn away money, Y/n." Harvey stated simply.

"Maybe this is where the bad feeling came from?" You think. "Lets hope not."

Back at the Bench, Eddie grinned from ear to ear as he watched Chrissy laugh. It'd be a long time since he'd smiled so much, it felt good. "She remembers the band, she remembers me. Chrissy freaking Cunningham!" his mind cheered as they parted ways, heading back to the school.

It was just the pick me up needed to get in the zone for the campaign. "And you're giving her a ride to your place to sell her..." Eddie's mind sighed, "this isn't actually happening!" it cheered again as he entered the side door.

The evening carried on like a burst of fireworks. Eddie lingered behind the school, sitting on the hood of his van, waiting. His smile was stuck to his face like gum on a shoe. "So Henderson and Wheeler managed to find the perfect replacement for Sinclair," Eddie thought with a chuckle, "another Sinclair."

He tilted up his head up to the sky, "and you're technically hanging out with Chrissy. Even if it is kind of business." Eddie focused on the stars, "It's really, truely starting to feel like my year." he sighed, closing his eyes.

Something small still hurt, like an infected splinter, or stepping on a goat head thorn. The smile gradually turned upside down. He could feel the chill in the night seep into his skin.

Chrissy stood before him, watching. She'd gone unnoticed, and the look in Eddie's eyes made her own heart hurt. "He's so nice, too nice to be so sad." she thought. "It was that same look on Y/n's face when I asked if she/he was dating Eddie." Chrissy thought.

"You know, you could always just start over." Chrissy called out to him.

"Huh?" Eddie asked, looking down at her. Chrissy smiled, "Y/n, just like you she/he's hardly scary. You miss them." She said. Eddie gave a strained smile, "is it that obvious?" He asked.

Chrissy shook her head, "No, but I know a thing or two about putting on masks to hide the truth." she said, as if confessing a secret. Eddie slid off the hood, "we should get going before anyone notices." he says.

"If it counts for anything, I think she/he misses you too." Chrissy told him before climbing into the passenger's seat. "I tell you what, if I pass Ms. O'Donnell's, I might try to start over. But I'll need a wing woman, you know." Eddie said playfully. Chrissy giggled, "I'd be happy to help." said Chrissy.

With that, Eddie started up the van, and the two headed off into the night.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

[abs0luteb4stard]

I still can't believe youre dead and gone forever.

Everyday for a year, you are missing from where you belong. Where you were always and truly at peace - with me.

That stroke dementia stole years from us. From you, me, and mom, it stole our fun, our plans. You had a fortitude in you to live to 105 if it weren't for a stupid clot.

It was an "Act of God", an inexorable event that set forth the trajectory of the end of your life. The loss of your personality, your memories, and you're beauty. And it was slow and torturous for all of us.

Who can I revenge your poor fate upon, Papa? Who can I take my lonely sorrow out on? Hmm?

I can not quiet my seething angry horror. I can't distract away my pain. The empty place you left is bigger than all of us and the house combined.

This 6 year cataclysm wore us down to the bone with you. Your death was a murder. An "Act of God" was your killer. A slow gradual death. It's taken some parts of us with you.

I don't know if this family can recover. I feel like that cataclysm isn't over. The hole your death left is pulling everything else in with it, slowly but surely we'll end up beside you again...

Because it wasn't supposed to end this way.

This aberration of our lives is a poison.

I want the good that came in the wake of your leaving me behind to be the prevailing feeling, to be the sweet behind the bitter, but I can't shake my disgruntled, disillusioned, hatred that this happened at all.

You should be here. You should be you. You should be able to meet these fantastic fucking people! You should share in this. Not be tucked away in a box somewhere, rotting lifelessly as nothing.

The cliche, "Life isn't fair". Well, death isn't fair either. It's not the "great equalizer".

It's just painful sorrow.

You're not perfect, you caused some pain in life, but you were a source of more joy than pain. Your memory is sweet. And that's why your absence is so devastating.

You never deserved anything like what befell you, old man. I still remember the day I said, "We had plans. Why would 'god' do this? It's not just to you, it's me and mom we all had a stroke, we all got dementia along with you..."

And you sounded like you, you said, "I don't deserve that stroke."

You looked out the window into the sunny backyard, and you knew what I knew once again. For the briefest moments.

And if you had listened a little closer you'd have heard my heart breaking. My teeth grinding like tectonic plates. My brain on fire screaming louder inside than my lips ever had.

The only time I screamed louder was when I wailed uncontrollably at the time you died. And many times more in the days after.

My life has been about hatred. The shit I endured in school that left me fucked up in the head. That was an amusement park ride compared to the hell we endured. It was easier than holding your hand as you died. Feeling you rigor. Spending those final hours with you cold and lifelessly laying there were better than not having you there at all.

At least I could hold your hand. Stroke your soft hair and hope that my voice could still reach you in the distance.

Now all I have is the night. Tears and talking to myself. No sign. No reply. No "Act of God" this time.

Just my despairing heart weeping for a friend like no other. My father. My child. You raised me. I've been with you everyday since 1992. I took care of you, you took care of me. Some people aren't even married that many years.

A bond like ours comes once in a thousand years. You were the lucky one. You had that bond twice. Your late and precious elder brother, Sandor - and then me, your only child. I'm not sure even mom knew you as well.

Your presence in my life is irreplaceable. Many times you were my only real true friend. I doubt I'll ever find that kind of friendship again.

☦

"He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again."

HAMLET; Act 1, Scene 2

[moxiemaemaple]

Who is Trixie?

I've lost who I am some days. I think these layers I've created I've kinda lost the real me, she deep stuffed down somewhere I can no longer reflect. Only glances of her are seen in my artistry, passions. When I strip down the dress up I struggle to look at myself. Who is she?

Who is Trixie? Not who she is now. In appearance she had blonde hair in a short bob. A cowgirl, her style consisted of typical cowboy boots and clothing that a typical modern cowgirl would wear. Jeans, red plaids, hanker chiefs and of course a cowboy hat to top everything. A cute farmer girl hiding out in this desert city.

She was on the run, from some people who wanted to hurt her. She had gotten a call and it put a fear in her…so bad she left everything to go hide out in the sunniest and hottest place I've come to ever been. She thought the attempt at a southern accent and whole dress up would be enough. Unfortunately Trixie's persona fell quickly. Her attempts to hide from another left her blind to someone else who had just happen to run right into her.

With the persona blown I retired her but she forever became a part of me. I know that sounds weird but I kept the boots…the fashion rules I invented for her. Incorporated them into my wardrobe of the time when I was still…me. However I'm a woman traumatized, and a final girl who has survived some of the sickest of this planet. Last time I was dressed up like Trixie something really bad happened to me…its how I got a scar into my shoulder. Had tried to find peace alone ironically in the woods only be hunted by a troubled man, abandon by society and the very system I worked for at the time.

I couldn't wear Trixie's clothes after that day. The last photo I took dressed up…it lives deeply buried in my files. I can't look at it with out crying. I wish I knew how to defend myself against the evils who find me…but how was I suppose to know the truck around there belonged to a psycho on more than a typical hunting trip.

Trixie now exists as Trixie Pebbles the barbie. Plastic in all her glory, a metaphor for her fakeness. Like the cereal, tricks are for kids silly wabbit.

I miss the old me. I miss the old life I had once had. Nothing will ever be the same. I've come to accept it, it is cemented and my feet trapped in this hardened mineral glue. When I think back at everything that I've experienced I just I'm overwhelmed with saddness…what was any of it for?

What is anything even for…?

Today I began my counseling adventures. I had two calls. Others issues feel so simple to solve. Mine? I feel alien. Never understood, never seen, never fixed. What a bullshitter I am huh? I give the most woke advice to others but never practice a single thing I spit. I'm a hypocrite. Lost in here. Where even here is anymore. I've moved so many times that I've lost track of all the destinations I've visited. Its all hell…still hell.

There is that drown feeling again. The blackhole spinning in with its nauseating gravity defying suction. Takes my energy again when it arrives like my own fate is doomed to live in this crippled state.

I keep fighting the depression. We all are. But who are we? If I dive too deep into myself sometimes I'm scared who I'll even end up facing. So I just remain trapped in a routine that pushes me along.

After my second client with counseling I called Crow. I don't know what complied me to call his number just figured, why not. Ended up on a farm…not dressed for the situation. It was too much. So many people. So many strangers. People talked to me and I clocked out. I drowned in those fields, sunk away…felt so sick.

I try to act like I know how to navigate social situations but in truth I'm fighting everything in me to march head first in. I can't explain the thought process but its like if I was a computer and suddenly my graphics card is being forced to overheat itself to just push through a single level of a game. Its swimming against the blackhole, the current of the tide, the pull of the planets around the sun. I wish it was me…though socializing is completely foreign…to me…who would ever guess?

The statement seems conflicting…but I'm so alone. I feel so alone. A pocket device full of people to call, hang out with yet I feel like a wall is between me and others. No one understands. At least how it feels. I've met a very small select few who have felt this alien before, yet none of them are around in my life for various reasons. Making me feel even more less isolated from being understood. The only ones to ever seem to understand all growing to hate me, betray me, exile me from their planets. Maybe I wasn't so like any of them anyways.

I'm back building…who and what am I building…I'm scared of my own progress and future. My paranoia for something awful to happen is dwelling there in the corner of my mind. Nothing ever goes well for me, its a pattern I've tried and continuously fight to avoid.

Day by day.

[mrthoughtbubbles]

I feel uneasy that I stopped playing Minecraft, which my go to game to find peace in mining, farming, increasing skill levels, like combat, etc... It's like an itch that can't be relieved. I tried listening to Warhammer lore about Drukhari, or Dark Eldar, but I can't get the thought of wanting to go online in Minecraft off my head... I'll try to read some pages of Dune and I hope that'll help... On another note, I have a deadline to finish with regard to book 2 of Dune, which is when the Dune Part 2 film will come out, which is around March...

On another note, I dread deadlines and quizzes because it entails that you can fail them, and over the years that I spent studying, I failed a lot of them, especially during my first course in college, which was engineering... I flunked a lot of my subjects, I felt alone and ostracized, especially during the last few terms, because I was separated from my blockmates and word must've spread out that I came from a rival school, or that I had a hard time talking to a certain blockmate of mine that I like... When I changed schools and course, I couldn't keep up with my peers with regard to my programming abilities, and to be honest, I regret my decision to take up programming because of it and I should've taken a business course instead... I, honestly, don't know how I passed, knowing that my final project was a crappy website, I used my dad's connections to fudge my OJT time, due to the incessant bullying of my superiors, my thesis mates carried me through thesis 2, and I, somehow, passed systems analysis and Java Programming, even though my skills are crap with regard to programming...

Nowadays, I am risk-averse, afraid of failing, being under someone, or interacting with a random person face-to-face, out of the fear that they'll bully me like my previous bosses, people coming from a rival school, or people who would say that I don't belong somewhere, due to my background... it is further complicated by my paranoia, or my fear that people are out to get me or are following me around...

[dnangelic]

sadist , masochist ? to hurt or be hurt / to find pleasure in it --- his soul couldn't think to bear it , no matter the wretched trail of greedy and selfish pains that had long already been carved out by his family into the world . clumsy as ever with his words and his confidence , he shirks away and seems to have second thoughts . the peal of mercutio's laughter too is something that has nevertheless drawn out the man's tears , and the niwa wonders , no small amount of dread desperately being bilged from his chest , whether he had , in his own way , cruelly sentenced the other to death in his measly attempts at offering peace and protection .

a horrible tooth bites down into the softer flesh of his lip . it doesn't draw blood despite its dagger point , trying to be ginger with itself . even amidst what a simpler mind feels to be mockery and a denial , mercutio still offers up every opportunity for his own coaxing , vicious and playful as a wheat-haired fox . half teeth , half fur , all bright sun's glow , something that teased and gekkered at its own catch-and-keep coaxing with an upper hand . a deeper wisdom , and a following an expectation , like a prance forward before a backwards turn of the head . for a moment the boy only listens and stares , pin-prick pupils widening , shrinking , seeking some sort of clarity . he stares first at the touch mercutio has returned to himself between them , and then he stares at the other's face .

' ... okay , ' the agreement is cherub soft despite devil's lyre-chords . ' then ... i'll try my very best . '

at any rate , someone like him had to . the world outside chaldea had been razed and the hell of it could not have been endured without effort . or dark , the second phantom face forced upon the boy that twists and sullens as he wears it . silly boy , mercutio says , and he does feel silly and awful after all . thick brows and a razor whet to every feature must make him seem frustrated if not furious , but in the depths of his eyes lingers , perhaps , the curled up figure of himself , nursing an anxious wound .

heartbreak . he hadn't known , and it haunted him still . foreign face in the mirror , form that consumed him , curse that loitered about in his blood and robbed him of his very life and body . a scorned witch's spell or the punishment of indulging a feast at the fairy table , a beast whose sculpted courtyard angels had blackened into retching , roaring gargoyles . he hadn't known that he would transform , and continue transforming against his own struggling will , nor had he known that chaldea would burst only just as he had arrived , full of naivety and hope over his and his phantom's separation . this shame too was a symptom , then . his cheeks flush , a shy self's admission both to his presumed ignorance and idiocy . and yet , he still brings himself to speak . ' even ... a curse like that can still be lifted , right ? '

how soft and light despite the unspeakable hole in his chest . what he knew was that he couldn't go on living like --- like this . cast out from his most idyllic , mundane dreams , left to belong to no one and nowhere , rotting slowly from the inside out . the childish tears bubble , cling and linger at the corners of his eyes . no miracle would be bestowed by them even if they fell . ' something can change , ' mercutio , though surely having witnessed more , if not likewise the very worst , had still not seen everything .

' ... and anyways , i just don't want to be hated . ' his head lowers , and somewhere between the shadows of long bangs , the little droplets of confession and terror finally begin to roll out and land with soft little taps onto the floor . ' if everyone hates me , then i'll be all alone . i'm not a story , i'm a person . i want someone , ' so he clings . clutches . takes what he wants , throwing his arms about the other , gripping them until a grasp at mercutio's torso shrunk into a wrap around the waist , every soft , hare-like sniffle doing its best to hide the first sound of heaping sobs .

' even if you don't need me --- even if nobody needs me , i still really need you as a friend . ' so much so already , that it went without saying --- he too would run , throw himself across every cavernous gap , if only to close the distance of a few small feet and land touching the other's skin . ' --- i'm sorry , ' it's unbearably hot , blistering summer in his cheeks , but mercutio's january cool thus comforts . ' i miss my mom and my dad and grandpa --- i miss when i could just go home . '

   it's a hilarious reaction, one that mercutio could smile gleefully for creating, all while comfortable where he lay, hands that could tear assassin apart easily if he wanted to but didn't. truly he appears like a cat that obtained the cream, all the while daisuke in his borrowed appearance sweats underneath him. "good. i wouldn't change just like that." he refused to wear down his sharpened edge, to ease his tongue to be all pretended pleasantry for no one's sake but to save face.

   there's nothing else but him to live like this? basically. forced into this role that a majority of the popular knew of, and not his past, the last remnant of that connection left in chilly hands. hands that no one could ever love, because no one wants to deal with the cold, always reaching out for warmth; in that it's become a weapon. to frighten away those that couldn't handle the simple action ( of holding hands, hands on the neck suddenly, cradling the face in hands ).

   it's said that even a sad end mattered.

   "perhaps i wouldn't be 'mercutio,'" he said, not sullen at all by the possibility. in fact, he'd rejoice at the chance. one less tie to the bard, that had given him this name and all its meaning to come along with it. "i would be just a simple, sad italian tale that was created by an author for the noblewoman he'd lusted over, no doubt in his mind comparing themselves to the doomed lovers of the tale. it can't be any more basic than that." naturally, he couldn't use the other word. it felt pathetic, but even then he would still be alive. as a soul written down in paper and ink, then the many different faces he's taken on the stage, it hardly made a difference, but to him it mattered.

   did daisuke know that version?

   he wasn't left to ponder over that question for long when in a burst of courage daisuke answered back, his quiet tone a sudden roar because of the difference that mercutio could do nothing more than stay silent. a pause. and then a peel of laughter at the command, so earnest and true that it was truly lighthearted. "oh, sometimes you can be a little sadist, can't you? or maybe a masochist?" he said, wiping away at the corner of his eyes.

   "then i'll put on that performance for you, dai. you'll be able to see the fall of it all up close. if you can withstand the destruction and make it through..." he leaves it there. a tragedy as an audience is one thing, but would the other able to stand up there on the stage? to make that leap, from a mere bystander, and reach out to him directly? but such a fate would be too cruel. maybe instead, when the curtain was down and the play was all but quiet, mercutio would be standing there waiting where daisuke can see him. berserker would continue, "if you think you can tame me, go ahead and try, dai. tame me to make me have to need you. to make you the most important that i would come running."

   he has to know that the feeble boy can make it through. stubbornly, as daisuke deflated after his own performance, arms falling back mercutio would huff and force arms back. like he's said before, if daisuke wanted something, then he should take it. this was no different. "unfortunate," he replied, a detail that he would keep from then on, though despite matter of fact tone, mercutio went back to lazing about. "oh? silly boy, don't you know how deeply ingrained curses are? it's basically tied down to the dna, and i've been a witness of such a thing too."