#death x the ghost that follows her around and just can’t move on for some reason ( she needs to be kissed )

[madmaxified]

can i say rio x alice or are you all gonna go insane

[moody-alcoholic]

Truth

I am not ignorant to the fact I’m writing a gay sex scene and everyone is hanging out in Syria. Resources below.

Guardians of Equality Movement

Syria LGBTQI+ Resources

Equaldex LGBT rights in Syria

I cant stop writing for this series. Every time I say I'll take a break I pump out another outline...

MDNI +18 content

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 2.7k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: MDNI +18 content Mentions of torture, torture, smut, blowjob (male receiving & giving), language. First proper Johnny x Simon scene, IDK it just felt right...

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

Enjoy <3

Johnny was grabbing something to eat in the canteen when he watched Ghost walked over to him. He knew something was wrong, he had that cold look in his eyes. The one he gets when he has to focus on the job and nothing else matters, not even him. Johnny swallowed hard standing up to meet Ghost. 

“Come.” It’s all he says but it makes the hairs stand up on the back of Johnny’s neck. Johnny follows they walk into an observation room. Johnny gasps when he sees you handcuffed the table head hanging down.

“What happened?” Johnny asked looking round the room his eyes falling on Jack who’s stood there arms crossed. 

“We believe she’s responsible for the murder of the doctor.” Jack says. Johnny laughs, looking around at everyone else being serious.

“Christ, what’s the evidence?” Johnny asked.

“Her ID was used to withdraw large amounts of insulin which is believed to be the cause of death.” Johnny looked at Jack shocked then at Price. 

“Has she said anything?” Johnny asked feeling sick. There is no way you did that, this has to be a set up, something… Johnny just knew it in his gut, you were innocent.

“No, she’s not talking.” Price said, Johnny could hear something in his voice. Sadness? Annoyance?

“I heard you are very good at your job lieutenant,” Jack says taking a step closer to Ghost. 

“‘Pends on what you heard.” Ghost replies remaining still, looking through the one way glass you’ve not moved, not wanting them to see your pained expression.

“I heard you can get people to talk, and we really need her to talk.” Jack says. 

“We can try other ways before sending Ghost in.” Price says. Jack scoffs.

“If she’s been trained by the enemy she won’t break.” He says walking to the door. 

“You have 24 hours to get her to talk or you’re out of here.” Everyone looked at Price. He went to sit down.

“You heard him, make her talk.” Price says.

“We don’t torture innocent people.” Ghost’s voice is level, he still hasn’t moved. 

“We’re not torturing anyone just question her you’ve got to buy me some time, look like you’re doing your jobs so I can figure out a solution.” Price sighs.    

“It’s wrong.” Johnny says. Price sighs again getting up. 

“LT, Gaz go to security I want anything you can find, from the moment she wakes up in the morning to the second she’s asleep. She takes a piss I want to know about it, where her card was swiped who has seen her anything, and quickly before Jack can replace staff.” Price says as he walks over to Johnny. 

“Come on let’s go have a chat with her, maybe she’ll tell us something useful” Price says his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny knows Price is trying to calm him but there is nothing on the face of the world right not that can slow his mind. He looks back through the window, guilt rises up as Ghost and Gaz leave the room. It’s times like this Johnny envies Simon being able to hide his face. Price squeezes his shoulder he looks in Price’s eyes, they look sad understanding. It doesn't make Johnny feel any better.

—————————— 

You can’t look at Simon’s eyes when he’s the room, the caramel eyes you used to lose yourself in, they’re just dark now, dark and uncaring. Johnny’s in sometimes, he won’t even look at you let alone in your eyes any more, the eyes you used to look in for comfort, love, hope. You don’t know what's worse. Price is the one who questions you, always the same questions. 

How did you do it? 

Why did you do it? 

Who do you work for? 

How long have you known about 141? 

Did you get close to them on purpose? 

Did you use them to get information on 141? 

Why?

He never says their names, Johnny, Simon. It’s always just ‘them’ he doesn’t have to say their names, you know who he means. Maybe you did betray them? Maybe this was all your fault? 

By the second day you can’t remember the doctors name, just the fact he’s leaving a kid and a wife behind. You’re moved into a windowless cell, you’re woken up at random times, you’re starting to lose track of time. It’s only after what you think is the third day it becomes violent. Jack is the only one who’s violent, he’s around a lot more, there are new questions. 

Why this base? 

Why now? 

Do you know anything about the arms sales to Al-qatala? 

Have you ever been to Urzikstan? 

Why kill an innocent doctor? 

Why insulin? 

Why are you betraying 141? 

Why?

Jack is the only one who will look you in the eye, he likes to look you in the eyes but he’s not kind. You become numb to the attacks, the repetitiveness of the torture, you hate that word, torture, it makes you feel guilty. You’re not guilty. Or maybe you are. 

“I wouldn’t use insulin.” You say after a particularly rough session. 

“What’s that?” jack asks, his face up in yours but you can still only just make out his features, nose, lips, chin, in your blurry haze he just looks angry. 

“If I was going to kill him I wouldn’t use insulin, too easy to be traced.” He doesn't like that answer, he doesn’t like anything you say if it’s true or not. 

You enjoy Gaz’s visit’s, he’s the member of 141 you had not met yet, he brings you food, soup or rice mostly. He doesn't question you, doesn't talk to you. Just tries to feed you food, or at least swallow gulps of water that burn your throat. He doesn’t need to do this for you, you don’t know him, he makes you feel strangely guilty. You used to spit out the food not accepting anything from him, when he said they would start tube feeding you, you relented accepting the spoonful's of thick soup or rice and beans. He’s got kind eyes. 

You don’t see Simon or Johnny anymore, maybe they’ve given up on you, maybe they don’t care. Jack tells you they don’t care. Price is there sometimes you think, it’s getting harder to tell, the passage of time becoming almost impossible to follow, you think it’s been 3 days, maybe 4, maybe 5. Your stomach growls, you haven’t seen the sunlight in days. Your body hurts from being upright all the time. 

“You should give her a break.” It’s Simon’s voice that pulls you out of your half conscious state. You see him stood in the door way, all black, his face covered. It’s not the voice you know, not the kind voice you’re used to it’s something different. It makes you shiver, makes the hairs stand up on your body. You try not to cry, only letting tears fall down your face after Gaz has been, then you know you’ll be left alone for a few hours. You don’t want to let them break you but it’s becoming harder to think.    

Someone bursts bursts through the door to the room pinning Jack to the wall. The noise makes you jump and you try to lift your head up but it’s too hard, your neck hurts. You blink hearing shouting, then you feel hands on your face, it feels like Johnny’s hands they’re warm he’s forcing you to look at his face. Everything is blurry you try to squint. You feel movement behind you. 

“I’m so sorry it took us so long love.” It’s Johnny’s voice you’re sure, your head is spinning though, you can’t tell. Your eyes move past Johnny, you think you see Simon, you think that’s him, you feel your head slump in Johnny’s hand as your restraints are cut lose. You must of blacked out for a second because the next thing you know is being on the floor. Johnny scoops you up in his arms and you lean up against his chest. 

“it's over now, we've got you.” Johnny whispers in your ears. You’re blinded by lights as Johnny carries you out to the room to the medbay. You recognise the smell, that’s a good thing you’re not totally broken, you can smell the clean sheets, the smell of antiseptic. There are hands all over you now, people touching you, so many lights. You reach for Johnny, where did he go? You start to panic trying to pull yourself up. Is it a trick? Are they doing this to finally try and break you? 

“Johnny!” You call searching for his hands. You feel a sharp pain travel down your arm. You feel your breath catch in your throat, your body being pressed down. Maybe this is the end you’re in too much pain and too tired to tell. You feel your body slump down as ringing grows louder in your ears, it doesn’t take long before everything goes black. 

——————————   

Johnny wakes to Simon’s hands on his shoulders. He looks over at your body still unconscious, still with tubes shoved down your throat. Simon pulls a chair up next to him, Simon’s started caring less and less who sees them together, especially at night. 

“The doc’s say the swelling in her head’s gone down.” Johnny says leaning forward in his chair.

“When was the last time you slept?” Simon asks him. 

“Got a nice kip before you woke me.” Johnny replies. Simon sighs, his hand running up the back of Johnny’s neck. 

“You really should get some sleep, some proper sleep.” Simon says. Johnny scoffs. 

“4 days,” he says, looking back up at you. 

“4 day’s, we let her suffer.” Johnny says quieter. Simon sighs his forehead resting on Johnny. Simon know’s how guilty Johnny feels, he feels the same too, he’s just better at hiding it. 

“Come.” Simon says getting up extending his hand out for Johnny. Johnny looks up at him blinking. 

“Give me five minutes.” Simon pleads. Johnny sighs standing up and following him. He lets Simon guide him all the way to the dorms into Simon’s room. Johnny has never left the bedside since you had been moved to Damascus. Simon had tried to get some alone time with him but he can tell Johnny’s guilt weighs heavy on his shoulders, he want’s to be there when you wake.

Simon pulls Johnny into his room, locking the door. Johnny tries to protest but Simon is too quick, his hands guiding Johnny’s hips pushing him against the wall. Simon’s hand slips under the front of his mask pulling it off over his head, he looks up at Johnny his thumb stroking his cheek. Simon looks almost sad, he can see the pain in Johnny’s eyes, the anger, he feels it too.

Simon presses his lips onto Johnny, forcing his tongue in his mouth as his hands reach under his shirt. Johnny seems to relax for a second enjoying the taste of Simon on his lips, playing with his tongue. Simon pulls away moving to Johnny’s neck planting little kisses all the way down to his collar bones. His head tips back hitting the wall as Simon pulls Johnny’s shirt over his head. 

“Si, we shouldn’t leave her.” Johnny says as Simon is burying his head into Johnny's neck. 

“She’ll be fine.” Simon says his voice low, almost a groan, as he continues to run his tongue down Johnny’s neck, Johnny’s hands moving up Simon’s back eventually running his fingers through his hair. Johnny doesn’t fight Simon, enjoying the feel of his husbands hands on his body as Simon’s hands slip under Johnny’s waistband pulling his trousers and boxers down. Simon is moving slow, slow and gentle working his hands down Johnny’s stomach to his abdomen, Johnny is almost desperate gripping Simon’s hair as he moves his tongue round Johnny’s body. 

“Si..” Johnny moans as Simon’s hands find their way to Johnny’s semi-hard cock. Simon want’s to almost beg Johnny to relax, instead running his hand up and down his shaft. Johnny presses his forehead on Simon’s chest moaning as he pushes his hands slipping under Simon’s shirt. Johnny trembles as Simon uses both his hands to pleasure him, his breathing becoming faster. Simon keeps Johnny’s body pressed up against the wall as Johnny starts thrusting his hips, fucking Simon’s hands. Johnny had felt this many times before, Simon giving him pleasure, but never quite like this, his emotions high, endorphins pumping through his body, Johnny starts to tense again Simon pulls away, a whimper leaving Johnny’s lips. 

“On the bed.” Simon says guiding him over as Johnny blindly follows his instructions laying flat. Simon takes his boots and the rest of his pants off flinging them to the side. Johnny lays his head back on the pillows as Simon licks the precum off Johnny’s tip making him moan his hands desperately trying to grab Simon’s hair. Simon smiles then thrusts his mouth round his cock taking him all the way to the hilt.

The pleasure is almost overwhelming, Simon can feel it, Johnny’s body shaking a mix of pleasure and stress. Simon doesn't stop his hands running up Johnny’s chest as he positions himself in a more comfortably to suck him off. Johnny moans and gasps as Simon’s tongue presses into the underside of Johnny’s shaft, Simon can feel him twitching in his mouth enjoying each one as he get’s closer to the edge.

Simon can read Johnny’s body like a book, Johnny thinks he’s sly hiding his movements, his cheeky side glances, the heavy petting Johnny does when he’s in the mood, the way his fingers move around Simon’s body forcing his attention. He thinks he’s good at hiding it but Simon knows him, Simon loves him and right now Simon knows he needs to make Johnny relax.

Johnny’s hips are thrusting again Simon’s hands grip his waist trying to keep it in place. Johnny moans Simon’s name as he cums. Simon likes that, hearing Johnny call his name in the heat of the moment, Simon feels his own cock twitching in his pants as he rides Johnny through the orgasm making sure that Johnny is well and truly satisfied before pulling his mouth away. Simon enjoys the taste of Johnny’s cum in his mouth, the feel of his hot seed hitting the back of his throat. Johnny is still panting when Simon moves, sliding up next to him pulling his head on his chest.

Johnny moves to rest on his chest his still heartbeat still racing, Simon takes exaggerated breaths and Johnny subconsciously follows him. Simon reaches down pulling the duvet over Johnny, kissing his face running his fingers through his hair. 

“You need to rest,” Simon says wrapping his arms round Johnny stroking his back. Johnny’s breathing starts to steady as Simon lowers his voice.

“You do this on purpose,” Johnny says sleepily. Simon smiles, he does do it on purpose. Johnny needs to rest, he’s no good to anyone if he can’t think straight.  

“I’ll wake you if anything happens, I promise.” Simon says kissing his forehead.   

——————————   

The knock at the door pulls Johnny out his sleep, he jolts awake almost fighting over Simon to get out of bed. 

“Easy.” Simon says as he moves swinging his legs out so Johnny can get up.

“You said you’d wake me if anything happened.” Johnny sounds frustrated puling his trousers and shirt on. 

“This is the first thing that’s happened.” Johnny throws Simon’s mask at him opening the door before he gets chance to put it on. It’s only Price.

“She’s awake, she’s asking for you.” Price says. Johnny shoves his feet into his boots as Simon gets up off the bed moving over to the door. Johnny looks back at Simon smiling and rushes out the room pushing past Price. Simon follows Price stopping him in the doorway. 

“What do you want to tell her about Jack?” Price asks. Simon sighs. 

“Laswell found anything?” Simon asks walking with Price, he shakes his head. 

“Still looking for a connection, he’ll be punished for the way he questioned her, demoted at the very least, depends on what they feel like. Theres no evidence he spoofed her card we’re lucky there were so many witnesses. We’re lucky we could clear her name so quick.” Price says. It still took 4 days. 

“Think he can justify his actions?” Simon asks. 

“Let’s see, we’ve got other things to focus on now.” Price walks into her room Simon hangs back for a second. A wave of guilt washing over him, he just wanted to hold her jump into bed with her, apologise. 4 days we let her suffer, Johnny’s words replaying in his head. Never again, he promises himself. 

Next part

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part seven —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: some chill stuff before more angst ya know

The next morning, it is your turn to slip a treat into Blue’s hand.

You can tell by her expression that the Twix bar is like gold to her. Her teeth sink in. She stifles a moan. She hisses a swear you haven’t heard yet— Fucking noodles.

It reminds you of the time Paul found a Cadbury egg for Joseph. You smile as you watch, the kind where your teeth manage to poke through and your cheeks have to do some stretching. Ghost is chopping wood somewhere on the other side of camp, but still, you decided to close the shed’s door. 

Last night, you were too worn to stay in the cabin for long. You left just after Ghost shucked on some large helmet with two strange eyepieces attached to it. To see in the dark, Blue explained in a whisper. Of course he would have that. When you asked him where he was going, he’d mumbled under his breath, Gonna make sure you didn’t have any bloody followers. You hadn’t even thought of that. He must not have thought of it until you actually showed up, either. He expected you not to make it.

You don’t know how long he was out there, but by the fact that you’d woken up to his axe chopping wood instead of heads, you figured the territory was clear.

“Better than Nutella?” you ask Blue.

Grey light streaks through the shed and over her face. The smell of potential rain looms in the air.

“That’s a tough question,” she says, licking the residue from her lips. She’s eaten half. She folds the wrapper over to cover the rest and hands it to you. Sweets like these are rare. You told her you’d keep it in your bag until she wanted the rest.

“I think it’s a strong tie,” she decides and then groans, moving her chin to the dip of her folded knees. “I wish chocolate could be hunted.”

“Me, too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the rest?” She sounds guilty. “It is your Twix.”

“No, really. It’s a thank you.” Your knee gives a nudge to hers. “As if you haven’t given me food that is yours before.”

The guilt turns into a smile.

“You know,” she then says, eyes flicking to your pillowcase bag of looted goods. “When I was looking at your clothes last night, I got an idea of how you could fix them. Can I—” she tilts her head, “Can I show you something?”

She leaves Grim with you as she departs to collect whatever it is she has to share. It turns out to be a magazine of all things. She clutches it to her chest, rolling her lips together before turning it around to show you. The bright ink is faded a little. The corners bent and worn. The date of the issue reads March 2018. There is a woman on the front - some model you can’t remember the name of - clad in a tight blue dress.

The sight is just as weird as the abandoned streets and homes. For a moment, you look down at the skin of your hands, abraded from your bowstring, and press your lips.

“Remember how I told you Ghost and I went to a military base once?” Looking back up, you nod. “Well, we were mainly there to get ammo but we also went through the barracks— that’s where they slept.”

She explains it as if you have no clue, which you don’t. Never in your life did you care about the military, except for that first day when you hoped they might come to find you in some big tanks or something. They didn't.

Blue giggles. “I found this in one of the men’s old dorms.”

When she sees your expression, she says, “It’s okay. I’m not stupid. Ghost told me his old teammates liked to look at pictures of pretty women sometimes when they got bored. Anyway, I’ve looked through it so many times. I like all the fancy clothes people used to wear.”

She begins to flip through the pages and points out a few things. Where before you sometimes zoned out, your mind distracted by survival, this time you listen fully. One page has an ad with lush grass in the background and she informs you that the shade of green is her favorite color.

“Not blue?”

“That is my name, not my favorite color." Her nose scrunches. "What is yours?”

Do you even have one? You think for a moment. What comes to mind are the flowers your mother used to grow at the house in Norbury.

“Violet,” you softly say. “Like the flowers.”

“Huh?”

“They are like… a bluish purple.”

“Oh! There are some flowers like that by the pond sometimes. Hopefully, they come back this year."

Another page she points to has people laying on a white beach with crystal-like water. Blue says she hopes to go there someday. Not to just any beach. That beach.

When she passes an ad with a young man’s face on it - someone about your own age - she pauses for a moment and looks up.

"Do you think he is cute?" she asks. A tender curiosity.

"Um," you can't remember the last time you saw a man's face besides Paul. Ghost is always covered. She holds the page up so you can see it better. A sharp jaw. Dark hair and a strong nose.

"Yeah, he is very cute. Do you think so?"

She nods and bites her lip. "Did you… have a husband before shit happened?"

"What?" You frown. "I'm not that old."

"A boyfriend, then?"

"I had," you search the memories. They feel unimportant. Buried. "I had a few people who I enjoyed spending time with in uni."

"Like sex?"

You almost choke. "What?"

"I am not stupid," she says again. "The rabbits. They do it all the time. Ghost told me that's how they have their babies, and that is how him and my mum had me."

Oh. This is the first time Blue has ever mentioned her mother and you don't know why, but it makes your stomach tight. But she doesn't add anything else about her, as if she'd just told you the sky is blue or Grim is her friend. Something so casual. Brushed aside. As if, she hadn't mentioned it at all.

You don't pry about it.

Not to a kid. Trauma, grief— you can only imagine what a young brain has decided to do with them. But for a moment, your brain tries to imagine what kind of woman it could have been, what kind of woman Ghost enjoyed spending his time with. The only thing you can picture is Blue's eyes. She clearly didn't get them from him.

Blue moves on from the picture of the man. The page she really meant to show you is of a woman wearing jeans with a belt around them. She points to it and explains you could try something like that for the jeans you found.

Right. Jeans. Along with the blouse you grabbed, you got an ugly pink sweater and some jeans that won’t fit you.

"That’s called a belt," you say. “I don’t have one.”

“I have an old shoelace,” Blue says. “How about that?”

“That could work.”

Blue tells you bluntly that you need to bathe first. You smell like those fucks, no offense. You take your new clothes and she finds you a rag. In the bathroom, you harshly scrub your skin to erase the smell of rot. You wash your hair which is slick with sweat.

On your wrist, you notice a light bruise growing where that Grey had grabbed you. Luckily, you were too tired last night for your brain to conjure up any nightmares, otherwise, you probably would've had one about it biting you. Even a bite to just your hand - to a finger - would be enough for the virus to enter the bloodstream. You don’t want to admit it, but with that revolver, Ghost saved your life again. 

After bathing, you slip on the blouse and a pair of too-big jeans. Blue gives you the shoelace. You feed it through the belt loops. It works well enough. The pantlegs fall past your ankles so you roll them. You tuck the large blouse so the excess fabric won’t get in the way while you hunt. The sweater… you don’t bother with it for now. It’s not warm enough. You will stick with Paul’s old coat when you go outside. 

You look in the mirror again.

You stroke your own cheek, looking yourself over. You smooth your hands over the clothes. Underneath, you feel the plush of your breasts. The muscles of your stomach. The curves of your ribs. You are almost back to your normal weight, but it is still evening out. Under your eyes, the skin remains grey. Floorboards and stress will do that to a person.

"Let me see," Blue says on the other side of the door before you open it. You can still hear Ghost chopping wood outside.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” She touches the sleeves. “These are pretty long. They will get in the way when you shoot arrows, right?”

You nod. “Can you bring me the scissors?”

After you cut the sleeves down to your wrists, Blue picks up the scraps of fabric. “Hey, you could tie your braids with these. Like ribbons.”

"I could," you shrug and give a smile. "But I think they would look nicer on you."

The shyness returns as she nods. Gently, you guide her in front of the mirror and begin working your fingers through her hair, just as you do most evenings.

You notice her staring in the mirror with studious eyes as if she is trying to understand exactly what she sees. You wonder if she ever compares herself to those girls in the magazine. An eleven-year-old you certainly used to.

"You look very pretty, Blue."

"It doesn't matter if I do," she shrugs. "It's not like anyone will ever actually get to see me."

"Well," you swallow, "I get to see you right now, and I think you are pretty."

"Thanks.” She accepts the compliment with a puckered expression, before it softens and she adds, "I think you are, too, Twix.”

Twix?

But before you can question it, you hear the front door shut and realize that the sound of chopping wood has been gone for at least a minute. It is clearly Ghost entering the cabin.

You drop your hands before you can finish the braids, stepping back. 

He calls out her name.

Recalling the rifle he pointed at you yesterday, you whisper to Blue, "Maybe you should go out before he—“

But of course, his heavy boots approach. The dark shadow of him materializes in the bathroom's doorway, consuming the space with his head dipped down to fit.

You turn around to face her father at the same time Blue does. His brows are drawn low and in one hand he carries the axe. You notice a sheen of sweat at the bridge of his nose where his mask begins.

The thing is, you try to avoid being spotted alone with Blue like this. She talks to you in your shed. You interact when he is busy with things.

Ghost reaches for Blue’s hand. He gently tugs her to him. He cups the back of her head and bends down to meet her level, though he is still much taller.

"Remember what we talked 'bout?”

What did they talk about?

"I remember," she mumbles. She tugs her arm away. "I was just helping her with her new clothes.” Smoothly, she changes the topic. “What do you think? The shoelace was my idea."

Blue. You almost groan, feeling his dark eyes slowly shift over to you. You think you would rather him press the axe to your throat than share his opinion about your clothes— they aren’t exactly like what the models in Blue’s magazine wore. His stare rarely does anything other than burn holes through your skin, so it is no surprise when you feel the heat through your blouse, up your neck, and all the way to your cheeks.

You look down at your feet.

Then, a bitter memory comes to mind.

You look like you're one 'em already.

That is what Ghost said once.

For a brief moment, you wonder if he still thinks it.

He doesn’t give an answer. All he does is clear his throat. Your strange curiosity fades as he stands and looks down at his daughter. 

"C'mon, kid. Start the fire with me."

"No, not yet. She needs to finish my hair, Ghost."

He allows it, but remains in the doorway, watching as you finish her braids, using the fabric as floral bows to tie them off. 

It looks nice.

It rains just like you thought it would.

Not too heavy, but enough to cut your hunt short for the day, earning you only one squirrel.

When you return to camp, you find Blue crouched over the wood planter as she covers the sodden soil with a layer of mulch. Apparently, Ghost had her plant some cabbage seeds before the rain. The mulch is to stop the seeds from washing away, she explains.

Spring will soon arrive. With it, some crops to add to their meals. Good for them. Maybe you can convince Ghost to lend you a seed or two to plant for yourself. 

After dinner, you sit by the fireplace with your boots off in order to warm your toes. The soft drum of rain against the cabin's walls lulls you into a trance as you listen to Ghost quietly read to Blue. Sometimes he points to words for her to try.

Tonight it is a book you recognize.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Your father read it to you once. A younger version of yourself told him it was too boring. But now you find yourself quite liking the story about a magic wardrobe where kids can escape to another world.

Blue falls asleep on the couch. Ghost carries her to bed like usual. It is your time to leave. The rain has died down some but you already know the water has probably leaked into your shed. Lovely. 

But again you are stopped by a hand around your arm. 

You turn to see Ghost. He clutches the map in the other hand.

“Um. What is it?”

You slip your arm away, his grip allowing it. Is he mad about you hanging out with Blue? Did he discover your secret exchanges? Is he going to finally kick you out since you didn't die like he probably hoped?

“Sit with me.”

You raise your eyebrows. He motions for you to follow him to the table so you sit down, hands in your lap, and pick at the skin of your knuckles. He spreads the map open. He also has a pencil in his hand. Between gloved fingers, he fiddles with it before sliding it over to you.

To your surprise, he demands, “Show me where you went.”

Although confused, you abide, making a small mark over the village. Ribchester. 

His eyes narrow. “Not jus’ that. Show me which way you went.”

“This way,” you say, annoyed by his tone. Faintly, you draw a line through the forest all the way to the highway. “Then I followed the road.”

He takes the pencil from you and slides the map back in front of him, sweeping his eyes over the marks you’ve made. Under the black fabric, you detect the contour of his lips pressed into a straight line.

“How many were there?”

“Not many, really,” you admit. “Do you… Are you wanting to go there?” 

You furrow your brows as you recall what Blue said. They don't make trips often. It is not like Ghost has much need to. 

“No.” Not looking at you, he draws a mark some kilometers south of the one you made. “I want to go here.”

“Why?”

“I need ammo.” 

His voice is clinical and gruff. You definitely prefer it over threatening. As he continues, it officially becomes the most words he has ever spoken to you. 

“Went to a base over here two years ago.” He points a gloved digit to a spot on the east side of the forest. That must be the trip that Blue was talking about. “Wasn’t much left. Took what I could.”

“You’re all out of ammo, then?” 

He gives you a flat look. “No. But I’m runnin’ low. I don’t want to wait until I am all out to go. Need some ammo to make it there, don’t I?”

“Why haven’t you gone sooner?” you pry slowly. “Why do you want to go now?”

“Got a bit more to lose than you do.” 

It is a harsh truth, inviting a sharp breath through your lungs. What he means is he has someone he loves, unlike you. Someone he can’t just leave behind on her own.

You realize that Ghost probably avoids leaving this haven he has set up for that very reason, and maybe it is also why he is particularly conservative about their supplies. Whenever they end up running low, he has to drag her along with him to get more. The threats out there can be hard to predict. You’d been lucky. 

Ghost continues.

“But if you could make it through here,” he gestures back to the marks you made. The route can act as a way to the military base, but he would still have to go further, maybe 10 kilometers past the village. “Then I can make it that way with her.”

You nod slowly as you begin to wonder why he is telling you this. But then, it sinks in, a pit settling in your stomach. If they leave, where are you supposed to go? 

Ghost must read the expression that takes over your face. You don't wear a mask.

“You’re comin’ with us.”

“What?” You stand up, shaking your head as you hiss through your teeth. “No. I don’t want to. I just fucking got back.”

“You’re not staying here on your own,” he growls quietly. “I’m not askin’ whether you want to go or not.”

You catch his eyes. Black glass reflects the dim glow of the fire.

Of course.

He doesn’t trust you enough to stay here.

You have no choice.

[bullet-prooflove]

Joy: Richie Jerimovich x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @rita-lean @yousigned-upforthis @factualfic @ayeeeee-ayeeeeeeeeeeee

Companion piece to:

One Night Stand (NSFW)

Gift (NSFW)

Safe With You

All The Good Ones Are (NSFW)

Richie knows you’re The One when you patch up the stab wound he has in his ass in the your bathroom. He’s standing with both palms pressed to the vanity, watching you in the mirror as you take an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit you keep under the sink and use it to clean the wound. He hisses through his teeth at the sting of it and the edges of your lips turn up into a smile.

“You’re a sadist.” He accuses you, his jaw clenching and you raise your eyes to meet his in the reflection.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have pissed off Sydney.” You remind him as you toss the wipe into the trash and remove another.

“She comes in with all these big ideas, as if she knows better.” He says, his voice raising as he grips the counter because that second round of wound cleaning it somehow it seems to hurt more than the first.

“Richie baby, you’re shouting…” You say as you pick up a band aid and compare it to the wound.

“That’s because I got stabbed in the ass and I’m a little frustrated.” He retorts, his voice hitching in agitation.

“No.” You say quietly, slapping the band aid onto his ass. “It's because you’re sad.”

He looks at you then in the reflection of the mirror and he wants to laugh, to bite back with something cutting but he doesn’t because you’re right he is sad. Every little change that Sydney implements is just another way that Mikey is being erased and it hurts, it hurts more than being stabbed in the ass ever could.

“It feels like he’s disappearing.” Richie says as he tugs up his tracksuit bottoms. “Like I’m losing him all over again.”

“I know baby.” You say, you palm rubbing a soothing circle over his back as your cheek comes to rest on his shoulder. “But it’s not Sydney’s fault, she’s just trying to make some order out of the chaos.”

The chaos that she created with the pre-order fuckup, the thing that send everybody’s day into a fucking spiral. It’s not even that that’s bothering him. Objectively he knows she’s right, they need to step up, to move forward if they want to stay afloat. It’s the other shit that’s weighing on him, the things she said as she waved that knife around by her cutting station.

“She called me a loser.” He says finally as he tilts his face towards you. “And I kinda think maybe she was right. I don’t fucking contribute anything, not at work, not with Eva, not here…”

Your fingertips ghost along the stubble of his grizzled cheek as he looks down at you. There’s such pain in those vibrant blue eyes of his, such grief and devastation. Any other day those words they would have washed right off his back but not today, not on the anniversary of Michael’s death. Instead they sink into his skin like barbs, embedding themselves deep, scarring his psyche.

You’re biggest fear, the one that keeps you awake at night is that he’ll follow Mikey into the grave. That all the shit the world has to offer will eat him up inside, that somehow you won’t see it and you’ll come home to the same thing that he did, a locked door and a sensation of dread that you just can’t shake.

“You are not a loser.” You say fiercely. “You are everything to me and you are everything to Eva. You are a wonderful father and the best partner a woman could ask for…”

“You’re just saying that…”

“Yes I am because I love you, and you love me.” You tell him, your thumb tracing over the his cheekbone. “Do you know how much of a mess I was before you, how worthless I felt? You saved me from that, you helped me see there was good in the world. You are my sunshine Richie, the light that breaks through the clouds on a really shitty day and you will never stop being that to me, you will never stop bringing me joy.”

“I bring you joy?” He says, his voice breaking just a little as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “That’s funny because your name is Joy, and you bring me all the fucking joy, like truckloads of it, mountains of it.”

You smile then and fuck if it doesn’t feel like he’s seeing the sunrise for the very first time.

“So now that we’ve established that we bring each other joy can we go the fuck to bed?” You ask him, your palms smoothing over the front of his t-shirt.

“You just want to get me undressed again.” He murmurs, a little bit of that brightness back in his gaze.

That weight he’s been carrying, it’s starting to feel a little lighter now. There’s not so much pressure in his chest, he can breath a little easier.

“Maybe.” You whisper, your thumb trailing over the line of his jaw. “Maybe I just want to remind you of all the good things you deserve.”

“Oh sweetheart, I know I don’t deserve you.” He tells you as he looks into your eyes. “But I’m going to work on that, I’m going to do everything I can to become the man you think I am.”

“Richie…” You begin but his mouth covers yours drowning out your words, his hands rake through your hair and you arch against him because this man, he knows exactly how to get you going.

“Baby.” He whispers, his lips brushing over the corner of your mouth. “I need you to shut up and let me give you a little joy.”

Love Richie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

omg i loved innate desire to protect! are you going to do a pt 2? if so please let the reader make it out alive😭😭

Yes!! I did this one part angst and part fluff lol, best of both worlds!!!

Thanks for reading😊💚

Part 1:

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence, swearing

Innate Desire to Protect Part 2

"She’s suffered some major internal bleeding, and it may take some time for her to wake up from these injuries. I really can’t put a time stamp on it, gentleman, I’m sorry.” 

“Thank you Doctor, we appreciate all that you are doing for them.” Price said, patting Ghost on the back.

Each of 141 was continuously in your hospital room, they took turns taking watch on you, none of them really wanting you to wake up alone.

Ghost could only stare at the doctor, he was hoping she would've given a different answer. He wanted you to be awake, he wanted to scold you for doing something so impossibly stupid, jeopardizing your life for his. 

“Alright gents, why don’t 3 of us head on over to Patricks and grab a drink and a bite, we’ll have someone swap out in a bit.” Gaz suggested. They were all tired, and frankly could use a drink after the long days that followed the mission, and the near death scare you gave them. 

“God I’d go for a whiskey.” Price muttered, standing up and heading to the door.

“L.T. why don't you head over to the bar with the guys. I’ll be here to watch her.” Soap said, silently hoping Simon would finally take the chance to decompress. He knew you’d be okay, but Simon hadn’t allowed himself to unwind the tension that had built inside him since you got shot. 

Simon studied Soap for a moment, considering his words. Perhaps a bourbon was just what he needed to relax. He trusted Johnny to stay here and look after you.

“Thanks, Johnny.” He said, making his way out of the room with Price and Gaz, not before sparing you a concerned glance.

“Go, L.T. I’ve got her.” Soap said, noticing his lieutenants hesitance to leave. 

Simon only nodded, the final push from Soap being what he needed to head out the door.

“Stubborn bastard.” Soap chuckled under his breath. He relaxed in his chair, finally taking the time to rest, his gaze thoughtfully landing on you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was about two hours later, when you awoke to the sounds of muffled laughter and a voice saying, “Steaming Jesus, that’s too funny.”

Your eyelids fluttered open, and you slowly took in your surroundings. You noticed that Soap was sitting in the armchair next to your hospital bed, watching what seemed to be a children’s tv show, on your hospital tv.

“Truly a kid at heart, aren’t you Johnny.” You said softly, giggling to yourself at the sight.

Soap immediately jerked his head to look at you upon hearing your voice. “Kid, you're awake!” He exclaimed, moving the chair to face you. “Good to see you in one piece.”

“Doesn’t feel like I am in one piece, and you're one to call kid.” You joked back. 

Soap laughed at this, softly putting his hand on yours. “Gave us quite the fright kid, Ghost’s mask was cracking, and fast.” You knew which mask he meant. He meant that Simon was appearing from underneath the mask that was Ghost. There was a fine distinction between Simon, and Ghost. Anytime he was on the field, or preparing for a mission, he was Ghost. When he was off duty, or in the safety of his or your room, he was Simon. Very few people were lucky enough to ever see this side of him. You and the boys of 141 were really the only people who got to see him for who he really was. 

At the mention of his name, you looked around expecting to see your lover sitting somewhere in the room. To say you were disappointed when you didn’t see him, was an understatement. 

Soap took notice of this, and immediately went to ease your worries. “Ah, that lover boy of yours went out with the boys to Patricks. I nearly had to kick him in the ass just to get him out.”

“Sounds like him.” you smiled to yourself. 

“Yeah, stubborn- “ Soap started, just as Ghost came in to relieve him. 

“You’re awake.” He said coolly, eyeing you.

“That’s my cue.” Soap said awkwardly, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from this conversation as possible.

As Soap left, you could feel the atmosphere in the room change significantly. You knew Simon was mad at you for what you did, you just didn’t realize the extent of it.

“It’s good to see you, love.” You said, trying to ease some of the tension.

“It’s good to see you? That is all you have to say to me?!” Simon roared, gripping the foot of the bed. You could see his knuckles turning white, from how hard he was gripping.

“Simon, I don’t know what you want me to say.” You countered.

“How about, Lieutenant, I am sorry I acted a fool, without thought, and charged headfirst into a fight without a plan. How about the fact that you’re reckless, and you could have died. Huh? How about any of those Y/N.” He was full on yelling at this point, not caring who heard him.

You could feel tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. You’d never heard him speak to you like this before. You knew he’d be upset that you tried sacrificing yourself to save him, but you thought that he may be a tad bit grateful at least.

“I- I’m so-” you started.

“No, I don’t want to hear whatever excuse you have. It was my fight, if it was my time to go then so be it. I cannot have people who are careless and have no regard for common sense on my team. Maybe it’s best I talk to Price about having you transferred. I knew us working together would be a problem, I just knew it.”

“You.. want me off the team?” You choked out, the tears now fully coming down. You aggressively wiped them away, not wanting him to see you cry.

“I honestly don’t know what I want anymore Y/N.” He said, his voice now low. Shaking his head, he stood up, and stormed out of the room without sparing you a second glance.

The minute he left the room, you let yourself sob uncontrollably.  You have never been spoken to like that from him before, and it left your heart in shatters. The words he had spoken to you just now, had your mind spinning. What did he mean he didn’t know what he wanted anymore? Did he not want you anymore?

You hadn’t noticed Soap sneak back into the room, and take a seat next to you in the arm chair. “Love.. are you okay?” He asked, putting his hand on your leg.

“No, I’m not. I don’t even know how to feel right now. I saved his life, I’m not dead.. I would’ve thought, I don’t know? I wasn’t expecting whatever the hell that was.” You sobbed, throwing yourself into Soap’s embrace.

“I know, I heard it all. Figured it best I didn’t head out, in case he pulled something like this.” He replied, rubbing your back to comfort you.

“I think he wants to end things with me.. I don’t know what else he could have meant.” You said wiping the abundance of tears streaming down your face.

“I wouldn’t say that love. It’s Ghost saying that, not Simon, I’m sure of it. I know how he reacted isn’t right, but he watched the love of his life nearly get killed trying to save him. I can’t imagine what I would be feeling if I were him.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe this isn’t what is best for us.”

“I am not going to push you into thinking one way or another, but I know that man loves you more than anything. Just give him time, yeah? For now, why don’t you just lay back down and rest. I’ll stay here til morning with you.” Soap said as he helped you lie back down in the bed.

“Thank you, Johnny. For everything.” You replied, shutting your eyes.

“Always, Y/N”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four days had passed since you woke up. You were discharged two days ago, and your days were filled with paperwork, and mundane office work. Price had strictly ordered you to desk duty for 2 weeks, until the doctors cleared you for field work again. 

You hadn’t seen Simon since the night he lashed out at you. You’d caught glimpses of him in the hallways, but he never met your eyes. The more days that went on without the two of you speaking, the less optimistic you were about your relationship with him.

You were lost in thought when Price had approached the desk you were temporarily occupying. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you take a break. Go get a coffee or something. You’ve been sitting there like a zombie for hours.”

You looked up from the paperwork you were trying to fill out, and gave him a small smile. “Thanks John, I don’t know if coffee will solve the problem I am having.”

“Ahh, well. Never know til ya try, right?” He said, throwing you a wink. 

“Suppose you’re right. Thanks.” You offered, watching Price walk out of the office.

Sighing, you stood up from the desk and started to make your way to the break room. You stopped abruptly when you saw a figure standing by the coffee machine. Ghost.

“I was just stopping to get a cup, I’ll be on my way in a moment.” You said, suddenly feeling very small.

He just looked at you, no ounce of emotion showing behind his skull balaclava. You wanted nothing more than to make your cup of coffee and get out of there. The tension between you two was too thick to bear.

In the few minutes it took to make the coffee, neither of you spoke. The silence was uncomfortable to say the least. The minute the coffee was done, you quickly grabbed the cup, and made a B-Line for the door.

“Y/N” Simon’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Sir.” You replied.

“Simon.” He corrected you.

You sighed deeply at this, not knowing what to expect next from him. Frankly, you never knew what to expect with him.

“Simon.” You repeated.

“I- I uh. Bloody hell I suck at this.” He started, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “Y/N, I am sorry. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You countered, putting the arm not holding your coffee crossed against your chest. Simon recognized this immediately for what it was, it was a defense mechanism. You were subconsciously trying to protect yourself, to shell in your heart.

His eyes softened greatly at this, and he moved slowly toward you. You didn’t move away.

“I just couldn’t stop replaying those moments in my head. Watching you just rush in there without a second thought, taking that bullet meant for ME. Y/N I can’t get it out, it’s all I see. If you hadn’t made it.. I.. I.” He couldn’t finish his sentence. But you knew what he meant.

You put the coffee down on the nearest table, and went to embrace him. He immediately accepted the embrace, and squeezed you tight. You both stood there for a few moments, enjoying each other’s warmth.

“I’m sorry, Simon. I know I could’ve handled that better, but the sight of you being hurt like that just made everything go numb. I would do it again, if it meant you being alive.” You said, pulling his chin down so you could look him eye to eye. “I will always protect you. That was our oath to each other, remember? On the field we’d always have each other’s backs.”

“I should’ve been the one who protected you, and I failed.” His voice breaking. Oh, now you understood. Not only was he upset at the prospect of losing you, but he was also feeling like a failure, and that he couldn't protect you. 

"Oh, Simon." You cried softly, pulling him back into an embrace.

"I'm sorry love. I promise to be better. I know 'm shit with my emotions, and it's something I've got to work on. If you'll still have me that is." His voice was laced with trepidation, as if fearing your answer would break his heart. 

"I will always want you, Simon Riley." You cooed, reaching up so you could lift the balaclava slightly, to plant a firm kiss on his lips.

"Now if you ever talk to me like that again, I'll make sure you don't walk for a week Mr. Riley." You pulled away and wagged your finger at him, trying to look as menacing as possible. 

"That's my girl." He chuckled, leaning back down to kiss your forehead, and you could've sworn you heard a soft "thank you" escape his lips. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

Let me know if you have any other requests. I've been enjoying writing these, and hope that you enjoy reading!!🙃

[natashashill]

delicate

pairing: agatha harkness x wanda maximoff (platonic), mentions of agatha harkness x rio vidal (romantic)

word count: 1k

warnings: brief mention of agathario kiss (don’t get ur hopes up), very very canon compliant (i think?), insecurities about agatha being a good mom for nicky

notes: i hope this is okay nonnie, this was rlly canon compliant so i didn’t feed into wagatha or anything but i hope this is enjoyable to read at least 😔

summary: wanda and agatha meet after agatha’s death in AAA. stuff ensures but who knows

“Where am I? Damn you Rio, and that stupidly good kiss,” Agatha grumbled as she let her eyes trail around her new surroundings.

She started to walk down a path fitted with trees and away from the suspiciously beautiful lake. As she let herself get carried away with the path, she started to wonder if maybe she should’ve let Billy go with Rio.

“What about my son?”

Agatha quickly turned around to be met with the familiar locks of red hair and an angry graze. Her lips met into a slight smirk.

“Easy there hon. No need to get all worked up. It was just a thought.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow before taking a step forward. Her face softened as she approached Agatha, and that made Agatha feel uneasy. As Wanda approached her, she took a step back instinctively.

“Thank you for looking after my son Agatha. How is he? Is he alright?”

“Relax yourself, he’s just like you, all stubborn and with a flair for dramatics. He’s starting to become exactly like you with his powers. I have to say we have much bigger problems to discuss, like that spell you put me under and trapped me with. Not cool, Maximoff.”

Wanda merely smiled before walking past Agatha.

“Follow me Harkness, we have much to discuss.”

Agatha rolled her eyes and stayed put. She spent three years under some mind control haze because of that witch, she isn’t just going to up and follow her.

“That wasn’t a question Agatha. Let’s go and discuss the matter of what you’re going to do now that you’re dead.”

Agatha reluctantly followed, grumbling under her breath about how unnecessarily dramatic this was. So typical for a Maximoff, she really can’t catch a break.

“So Agatha, are you intending to stay in the afterlife. Once you commit to it, you can go and start to visit all the people you may have missed, they might even be waiting for you.”

Her words strung deep, thoughts of Nicky waiting for her swirling in her head. Would he be upset with her? Does he know all that she did? Would he want to see her after all this time? Her hands move to clutch her necklace, thumb stroking slowly over the cover before stopping by the clasp.

“I don’t know Maximoff, do I really have many options? I didn’t exactly set out a death plan. Also why are you here, you’re not the gatekeeper of the afterlife, are ya?”

Wanda let out a chuckle before responding,

“No Agatha, I wanted to see you before you made your decision. You have plenty of options, the most common being that some go out to be ghosts and -”

Right. Ghosts. She remembered Rio’s ramblings about how much she hates ghosts. Maybe this would be good. Payback at Rio, check back up on that Maximoff boy, and put off seeing Nicky for a bit. But only a bit.

“Being a ghost. That one. How do I do that?”

“Agatha, choosing to be a ghost requires a purpose and it might take more time than you think before you can return.”

“I choose ghost Maximoff. Who else do I have to tell before this happens. And maybe I do have a purpose. Guide your precious son through his mission to find his brother, Timmy wasn’t it?”

“It’s Tommy -”

“Yes, that’s what I said. Someone has to make sure he won’t destroy my house. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to impart some of my extraordinary wisdom of magic to him, I suppose.”

Wanda paused, deliberately choosing her next words carefully.

“Agatha, I respect your abilities as a witch. However, you and I both know Billy doesn’t need your input. Is there anything troubling you?”

“What’s it to you Maximoff? I don’t need advice from you, of all people.”

“Probably not, but it doesn’t hurt to talk. Nothing’s going to get to you anymore, you’re dead, remember?”

“I don’t need you meddling in my life, well death - I should say. Besides, I’m fine so I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Agatha, I know about Nicky. I know you’re avoiding him. Rio told me what happened. I’ve been watching over him while she’s away, he’s a wonderful boy. He asks about you all the time.”

Agatha turns away from Wanda, eyes pooling with tears at the thought of Nicky. All the time they spent apart. Fear filled her at the thought of finally showing up and disappointing him. She couldn’t face him yet. Yet thoughts of Wanda and Nicky surfaced, leaving a pool of bitterness and jealousy in her stomach. What if he prefers Wanda to her now? Would he still welcome her?

“She had no right to tell you, he’s my son. Nevertheless, I must return to Earth and take care of some business before returning to Nicky, I can’t face him yet,” she lets out with a shaky breath.

“Well if you’re absolutely certain-” is the last thing Wanda says before everything changes with a flick of a hand.

Suddenly, they’re transported to a room with a celestial being and two doors. Wanda starts to make her way to the door on the left before briefly turning around, “Take care Agatha,” is all she lets out before stepping through the door.

The celestial being wastes no time in demanding Agatha’s choice.

She freezes.

Her Nicky, waiting for her on the other side of that door. Could she go through it? Does she deserve going through that door? No. She couldn’t, not yet.

“Lady, I need an answer. Now.”

Rooted back to the present, Agatha clears her throat. The attitude was definitely not needed, how busy could the being be that they couldn’t wait for one internal conflict. Rude.

“Ghost. I’d like to return to Earth as a ghost for now.”

“What’s the purpose of the return?”

“I need to make amends by helping Billy Maximoff.”

“Very well, you have two years to do so. If you fail to achieve your purpose you will be forced to remain tied to your house in Westview for eternity. Is that clear?”

“Uhh, yes. I think so, very dark though, eternity is rather harsh.”

“Step to your right and enter through the door.”

Agatha takes a deep breath and makes her way through the door. Clutching her necklace, she steps through.

notes: hi!! so glad you actually made it through this. i’m honestly a little nervous because this is the first thing i’ve written in two years but i’m very excited to work on the other two prompts i’ve received so far ahh <3 anyways i really hope you enjoyed this bc once again im nervous lolsies

[kookygranger]

Sparks Fly

Ghost!Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader

Series Masterlist

700 words

You rub the pinched spot in your lower back, waiting for the wheat pack in your microwave to finish heating up as you stare at the half-packed boxes and all the little bits and pieces that still need to be wrapped and boxed up.

“I can help.”

His voice makes you jump, still not used to one outside your head interrupting your space. You turn and watch him over your shoulder, arms crossed and biceps squished under his tight striped polo.

“Go on then.”

His eyes flicker towards you, wavering in his unfounded confidence before he walks to your desk. His hand stretches out, veins that seem to become clearer every day moving under skin that could easily pass for sun-kissed and animated, if anyone else could see him. It flexes for a moment above a ceramic teapot, hesitating before he makes a grabbing motion that passes right through it.

You click the side of your cheek, “Close one,” and move back to the kitchen when you hear the beep of the microwave, missing the way Steve’s shoulders deflate. You can feel his presence behind you as you press the heat into your lower back, sighing with relief.

“So uh, why is it you’re leaving again? This place really…fits you.”

You turn around, watching him take in all the tweaks of personality around your kitchen with a shoulder to the doorframe.

“Some of the coven is parting ways, and I sided with Rhi and her vampire lover. I can’t stay here with a good conscience, besides,” you shrug as you place a kettle over the stove, “it’s just stuff. It can all come with me.”

Steve hums, and you turn back towards him.

“What did that noise mean?”

“Nothin’” he shrugs, “Just I was wondering,” his hazel eyes burrow into your soul, making you squirm under his gaze, “can I come with you?” He shifts at the ill-hidden shock on your face.

“You want to come with me? Shouldn’t you be,” you waved your hand in the air, “moving to the next place? I thought you talked to Rhi?”

“I did. She told me to stop freaking you out and let the light consume me or something.”

“So?”

“I don’t want to. I wanna stay with you.”

You frown, “Oh.”

“Unless you don’t want me to,” he clears his throat. “I guess I could…go.”

You shake your head, “No, I mean–if you want to stay, you can. It’s your…afterlife.”

“And go with you?”

“If it’s what you want?”

“What do you want?”

You take a deep breath, your chest puffing before exhaling slowly. “I’ve almost gotten used to your…” warmth, “commentary.” He smirks and your eyes drift to the permanent shadow of fuzz that frames his pink lips. You wonder if he regrets not shaving on the day of his death.

“So, I’m coming with you?” You shrug in a non-committal yes, and his face morphs into a frown, “How do I do that?”

You roll your eyes, moving to grab a mug out of the cupboard as the water begins to boil. “Figure it out, ghost boy.” You can feel his smile without needing to see it, a tingle spreading down your spine in its wake every time.

***

The familiar warmth was the first thing you’d noticed when you’d walked into your new apartment, following a trail through to the living room until you came across his ethereal form, more real than ever, leaning against the wall. Arms and feet casually crossed with that smug smile plastered on his face.

“Found ya.”

It was closer to the city, your new place. An easier route to the nightlife and music scene but entirely lacking in the coating of magic that had been left over the hundreds of years you’d spent in the house situated in the coven’s community. It was a blank canvas, but you’d sprinkle some of that cosmic energy into the space in no time.

You groan as your back clicks, stretching out another day of moving pains and surveying your progress. You’d gotten the kitchen and essentials unpacked in one day, just books, records, frames and crystals left.

“Alright, I’m ordering takeout for dinner.” It was weird. No longer just talking to yourself. Feeling another presence in your space.

His hand reaches out in reflex, motioning to squeeze your arm, and you feel a hot point of contact, flinching at the zap that travels through your arm. Steve frowns, staring at where his hand had touched you, then looks back up at you, mirroring your look of shock.

“What the hell was that?”

[robotic-rin]

Psychosomatic Freedom (To Your Head)

(Beetlejuice x Reader)

Summary: Renting out the spare bedroom in the Maitland/Deetz mansion was wacky enough when you found out you’d be living with real life ghosts, but things only got more intense when a certain demon was thrown into the mix as well. Not only does he pride himself on annoying you whenever you’re busy, but he chooses to do so in ways that make you regrettably very horny for him. You do well at keeping your flustered reactions under control when you’re around him, but please try to remember that he WILL appear if you say his name three times, no matter the context or intent.

Word Count: 13,840

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: horny demon escapades, a dash of praise kink, even smaller dash of humiliation kink if you squint, beetlejuice being a bastard but he also whimpers, hurt/comfort, emotionally vulnerable handjobs, afab reader (no gendered terms are used aside from beej referring to reader’s “tits” bc of him being the way that he is), tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there, monster fangs/tongues, overuse of bj’s mood ring hair, beetlejuice is so annoying that he loops back around into being majorly fuckable

Author’s Note: it’s finally happened. i’ve been meaning to write this fic for years, and i finally gathered the willpower to write it all out. i don’t know if i properly followed the post-musical summoning rules but tbh i just wrote this bc i wanna fuck beetlejuice and i didn’t do a lot of lore checking, apologies. i hope y’all enjoy regardless, this demon needs to be dommed so bad and i was more than happy to provide the scenario. anyways, you know the drill: if you’re good with all the tags and are 18+, please enjoy!

You can’t clearly remember the moment you realized that taking up residence in the Maitland/Deetz household was going to be more than you bargained for. The living family was eccentric enough, let alone the fact that they were currently cohabiting with a friendly ghost family. You had to be willing to accept a lot of zany things very quickly when you went in to sign the paperwork to rent out the mansion’s spare bedroom, and you’d say that you’ve taken everything in stride so far, all things considered. Charles and Delia Deetz were nice enough and stayed out of your business just as you did with theirs. They had been a bit strapped for cash after their investment in a gated neighborhood fell through, and it seemed as though they were happy enough to make some money off of renting out their guest bedroom to a sane person who mostly kept to themself. It was a win for everyone, so you got along just fine. Their daughter, Lydia Deetz, was less into staying out of your way, but she wasn’t rude about it by any means. She seemed to just be an eccentric teen who was curious about the person living in her house, and you’d gladly indulge her out-of-the-box conversation topics about the newest death metal bands and join her for an occult ritual or two. Classic teen stuff.

Of course, sharing a house with a living family was one thing, but adding a ghost family to the mix definitely livened things up (ironically). Adam and Barbara Maitland, also known as the previous owners of the house who had suffered a tragic premature death, were not what you expected from real life ghosts. It’s hard to say what you did expect when that bombshell was dropped on you, but it definitely wasn’t two polite suburban Millennials that felt more like a caricature of a couple you’d meet at a vegan farmers’ market than restless spirits haunting their old house. It was a wild day when you met them, assuming that Lydia was having a bit of fun with you when she’d ominously warned you that their house was haunted. But no, she was certainly not, as the couple took your moving-in day as their chance to formally introduce themselves. You didn’t actually believe that they were truly dead until Adam walked through a wall for you days later. Despite being slightly bummed that they didn’t look like the classic ghost with little wispy tails for feet, you were also a bit relieved that, although ghosts definitively exist, they can be just as friendly and unremarkable as any human. Not to say it as a knock against them, you actually found yourself hanging out with the Maitlands more than anyone else in the house. Against all odds, they were the most normal and down-to-earth ones in the whole household, and you were grateful to have them as housemates.

You got to hear all about how they got to the living arrangement they had now, and if you weren’t already rooming with ghosts, you’d have considered it too unbelievable to be true. But you’re glad to hear how well everyone seems to be doing with this new living arrangement, especially Lydia, who it seems had a really rough time of it right after her mom died. All things considered, you were beginning to really enjoy living in such a crazy house with such colorful personalities around you, all unique but living in harmony. Well. At least until he showed up.

You’d been warned that he does this from time to time. Part of their story told how he went from full-on antagonist to the weird uncle of the family, now popping in whenever he felt like it, often unannounced. He always claimed it was just to check in on his favorite mixed-life family, but in reality, it was mostly just to bother everybody.

As long as you live and die, you’ll never forget the first time he’d made one of his surprise visits after you’d moved in. You’d been sitting alone at the long dining room table, minding your own business as you typed away at important work on your laptop, fully lost in your task. Important files for your work lined your screen, all perfectly organized and sorted through after a long day’s work. But then, with no warning, your laptop’s display had changed to a blue screen, causing your eyes to widen in horror as you realized that it had fully died on you and probably lost all of your progress. You felt yourself choke out a horrible sound of despair, before a hand seemingly appeared from nowhere and pulled the blue screen back as though furling up a classroom projector screen, revealing your undisturbed desktop behind it.

“Woah, that was almost a really expensive mistake,” a gruff but playful voice laughed, coming from right next to you. “I forget how touchy technology can be when it comes to spirit energy. My bad, heh.”

You had whipped your head to the side to see a disheveled-looking man with bright green hair dressed in a black-and-white striped suit that looked like it needed to be washed and dry cleaned about 10 years ago. He was grimy, but almost purposefully grimy. Like it was part of his aesthetic. You’d seen some wild happenings in this house, but the sudden materialization of this random weird guy in the dining room was the first to leave you speechless.

“W-what…how…you just….” If first impressions truly were everything, he’d surely always think of you as the pinnacle of eloquence.

The stranger grinned at your reaction, obviously a bit pleased with himself. “No words, huh? Wouldn’t be the first time, I do tend to inspire that reaction in people. My undeniable charms aside, who are you? Some long-lost Deetz cousin visiting from WhoTheFuckKnowsVille or something?”

You finally regained enough of your speech abilities to respond just in time. “Uh, no. Just…renting the spare bedroom. No relation.” There was a moment of silence as he looked at you inquisitively, before you remembered your manners. “Um, I’m (Y/N). Am I right to assume that you’re Beetlejuice?” Hey, why do I need to have manners after he almost just fried my laptop? Your bitter thoughts go unfortunately unanswered.

He looked positively elated at your words, his dark eyes visibly lighting up as he sidled up next to you in your chair, ignoring the fact that it was clearly only made for one person. “Oh, wonderful! I get to skip the charades part with you. You’re already my new favorite person just for that, you don’t know how much I hate playing guessing games when the answer hasn’t changed in hundreds of years. But yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out. Unless you want to see me. Then all you gotta do is say it three times in a row, and I’m there, baby. Morning or night, rain or shine.” Boy, this guy talks a lot.

You nodded slowly, still bewildered. “Ah, alright. Sounds good. Did you…need anything?” You couldn’t, for the life of you, get an idea of what Beetlejuice would be doing here.

He huffed noncommittally. “Well, usually I come around to see everyone here, since the Netherworld gets reeeaaaalllly boring. But lately, Lydia’s gone so much at school, and my old flames Adam and Barbara don’t always have time for lil ol’ me anymore…” He made a pitiful little face and rested his head on your shoulder, acting like a kicked dog. Despite his bad manners and lack of personal space, you felt a piece of yourself feel bad for the demon. Looking back, that was your first mistake.

“Hey, don’t be upset. I know we just met, but if you come by and nobody’s here, I could always…hang out? For a bit?” And that was mistake number two.

His full demeanor shifted in an instant, as though you’d activated a switch on him that could never be turned off. “Really? You’d spend time? With me?” For a demon, he did have very effective puppy dog eyes. If you weren’t locked in on what you said before, you had to be now, looking him in the eye as he turned his full body towards you, inches from your face.

“Sure, I’m usually just hanging out around the house getting work done anyway. I could use a little company sometimes.” It felt more like you were talking yourself into this decision rather than him.

“Oh friend, you won’t regret it! We’ll have such a nice time together, I can just feel it. Don’t ask where, heh.” He pulled out a small business card from thin air and slid it smoothly between your fingers. “And remember babes, you want me, you just call my name. I wouldn’t keep someone as smokin’ as you waiting. Not like I have a choice.” Snickering to himself, he’d disappeared in a flash, leaving you with your head spinning as you wondered exactly what you’d agreed to.

As time passed, you found that you didn’t even need to call his name for Beetlejuice to show up in the middle of your day and start pestering you. Eventually, it got to a point where, even when the other members of the family were around, he’d still choose to hang around you over them at times. After a good while, you got to a point where you nearly forgot that calling his name three times would summon him due to how often he popped in of his own volition with no warning at all. And somehow, he only ever seemed to do this on days where you had something that really needed to get done, never just on a day where you were already lazing about on the couch and eating snacks. No, instead, he acted like a bored cat with no sense of responsibility whose only goal was to distract you, and it’s a goal that he prided himself in succeeding at through various methods. Turning your pencil into a baby sandworm, making the keys on your laptop keyboard detach and float away, grabbing whatever you’re working on and zipping it up in a pocket dimension for a few minutes. One time, he straight up ate an important stack of papers from your desk whole because you weren’t looking when he told you he was about to do a cool trick. Anything to rile you up and steal your attention for a bit.

You find yourself in another situation like that on today of all days, when you’re swamped in assignments and don’t have a moment to spare. You can already feel his unseen eyes watching you as you sit hunched over your large desk-vanity, checking out what you’re up to before he acts. You’ve developed almost a sixth sense for detecting him when he’s invisible at this point, but somehow knowing that he’s secretly here just makes your heart race faster. There’s no feeling quite like trying to predict the first move of a master scarer while he’s in the room, but you quickly decide to put a stop to it today.

“I know you’re there, Beetlejuice,” you say, clear and stern. It would really emphasize how serious and non-playful you’re feeling today, if not for the way the corners of your mouth turn upwards of their own accord. Fight though you might, your body always gives away how much you enjoy the little games you two play. You allow your eyes to slowly wander away from your glowing laptop screen to stare at the large mirror in front of you, hoping to catch a glimpse of his figure lurking behind you and catch him before he can put whatever plan he has into action. Just as you’re scanning the reflection for anything that seems off, your vision is engulfed by a sharp toothy grin manifesting in front of you from within the mirror.

“Boo.”

He can barely get the first syllable out uninterrupted before you’re screaming and jumping back so far that you nearly fall backwards out of your chair, only catching your balance at the last moment. You turn your fiery gaze up to his smug face, still sticking halfway out of your mirror.

“You rat bastard!” You’re panting so hard that you can’t even think of a clever insult for him outside of playground swears, which only seem to egg him on.

He flutters his eyelashes innocently. “Aww, you liked it that much? Well, I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. There’s plenty more where that came from, heh.” He sticks a long, snake-like striped tongue out of his mouth as if to cheekily punctuate his statement.

Despite yourself, you feel your face beginning to flush at his suggestive behavior and turn your back on the mirror to conceal your expression. You don’t want to admit it, but over the past few months, you had developed an issue even bigger than the simple annoyance of a demon constantly pestering you: you found yourself feeling really attracted to Beetlejuice’s stupid face and mannerisms. Even though he was insufferable, he was also undeniably cute and charismatic in a strange way, and he always managed to get you riled up in more ways than one through his teasing. This would only make you all the more bothered by his antics, which in turn would make him want to press your buttons even more. It was a vicious cycle that only ever ended up in you feeling a unique mix of irritated and hot under the collar after he left. Why, why was I cursed with attraction to this rude little gremlin man? He’s gross, and crude, and annoying…and yet.

You wrinkle your nose to dismiss your thoughts, still looking away from Beetlejuice. “So did you come just to make sure I don’t get these assignments turned in on time, or what?”

“Or…what.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him slide out of the mirror like a long snake, coming back up to full height standing next to your chair. “You know how lonely I get in the stupid Netherworld, so checking up on my faaaavorite little breather is a great way to fill my social meter.” He gets a little too close to your ear, stretching out that “favorite” into almost a growl, and you practically stop breathing trying to minimize the shiver that overtakes your body. Fuck this guy’s stupid sexy voice.

Hoping he didn’t notice your reaction, you turn your body to face him and stand up from your chair defiantly, face to face with his usual shit-eating grin. “What, you just don’t talk to anybody else in this house anymore? It feels like you only ever visit me nowadays, and I really have no idea what I’ve done to be cursed with the privilege of being your favorite human.”

Beetlejuice looks up thoughtfully, as though truly trying to figure out how this relationship came to be, bringing his face closer still to yours. “Well, you are the only person who’s ever voluntarily offered to spend quality time with me.” The answer is so earnest and straightforward, it steals the next witty retort from your lips and you just gawk at him, inches away. His eyes quickly dart down. “Hm, plus, you do have the best tits I’ve seen in a few centuries.” There it is.

You roll your eyes and groan, gently pushing his face away from you with your entire hand, only for him to lick a long stripe down your palm with his tongue. “Ugh, you are so gross!” You relent and move to wipe your hand on your shirt instead.

“Only for you, babes,” he coos with half-lidded eyes.

“That is demonstrably false.”

“Ok fine, how about: especially for you?”

“Well, it’s closer to the truth at least.” You fold your arms and cock your head. “What did you wanna do, then?”

“Oh, you should know better than to give me so much control here, (Y/N). There’s a lotta things I’d like to do with you.” He runs his tongue over fanged teeth teasingly, causing your heart to race once again. Beetlejuice really is a demon without a doubt, because he’s perfectly created my own personal hell. He must be some kind of divine punishment for my wrongdoings. A sexy demon who flirts with me endlessly, and I have to just be normal about it because there’s no way he’s serious. Maybe I burned down orphanages in a past life to deserve this.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’d probably turn me inside out or something fucked up if you got the freedom of choice. I’ll pick, then.” You quickly scan your brain for the quickest, most painless way to get him out of your hair. “How about a game?”

His face lights up with mischief. “Twister?”

“No,” you respond flatly.

“Spin the bottle?”

“No.”

“Hungry Hungry Hippos?”

“N-what? How is that even-“

“Oh, it’s not a euphemism, I just genuinely like that one.”

You sigh in defeat. “Ok, no to all of those. I was thinking more along the lines of The Quiet Game. You sit over there and be quiet, and I sit over here and get my work done, and if you stay quiet the whole time, we can watch a movie or something afterwards.” You say all of this knowing very well that it’s a pipe dream. Even if he were to be totally silent, Beetlejuice would have no problem finding new and inventive ways to torment you. He’s quite talented at that, as both of you are keenly aware.

Upon hearing your proposal, Beetlejuice furrows his brow and wrinkles his nose in a way similar to a petulant child about to throw a tantrum. “The Quiet Game? Are you serious, I-hmph, well, I can tell when I’m not wanted! I don’t need your pity games, I have plenty of exciting and important work things to do myself, like…um. Well, I’d have to check my dossier, but I’m sure there’s plenty of ‘em!” He spins away from you dramatically, drooping his shoulders to appear more pathetic. It works, unfortunately.

Your gaze softens slightly as you take a step towards him. “Beej, c’mon, it’s not that I don’t wanna hang out, I just really need to finish-“

“Yeah, yeah, human work, I know it.” He whirls around to poke at your chest accusingly. “Well, don’t let me be a roadblock to you, Professor Workaholic. I’ll remove myself from your esteemed presence. Just don’t come crawling back to me when you’ve worked yourself to death! I’ll be too busy. Filing shit. Or whatever.” His voice warbles at the end, and you’re not entirely sure if he’s doing it on purpose or not. He’s not the easiest guy to read, though you do think you catch a flash of purple streaking its way through his otherwise green hair. Without giving you time to respond, Beetlejuice pulls out a pair of scissors and snips a long hole in reality, stepping through it with one last pitiful look at you before flipping you off and stitching it up behind him, causing it to blip out of existence.

Just like that, he’s gone, and you quickly realize that you may not have wanted this outcome as much as you’d thought. He’s a bit abrasive, but he’s not wrong. A break would’ve been good for me, and spending time with him is always…a lot, but never boring. We always have fun together. You groan to yourself, frustrated that your brain has decided to come around only after Beetlejuice had already dipped. Damn, I shouldn’t have let him leave.

Seeing no point in taking a break on your own, you sigh, sit back down, and attempt to keep trucking through your work. It’s mind-numbingly dull, and you keep finding your brain wandering off to thoughts of Beetlejuice. His poor little demon schtick really does work, I can’t stand to think about how sad he looked as he was leaving. His big, expressive eyes…how cute and proud of himself he looked after successfully scaring me earlier…his pointy tongue running across those sharp fangs. Fuck… You find yourself blushing at the mere memory of that last one, your conscious mind pleading that you stop finding it as sexy as you do. But try as you may, there’s no changing the fact that Beetlejuice’s playful antics paired with his handsome face have spelled your doom. You’re down bad, worked up, and all alone. Well, looks like this work won’t be getting done because of Beetlejuice even without him here. Fuck it.

Giving in to your body’s demands, you stand up from the desk chair and head over to your bed, taking your pants off on the way and tossing them haphazardly into a corner to start gathering wrinkles. You have bigger things on your mind at the moment; specifically, imagining what Beetlejuice’s long tongue might feel like dragging across your skin. Feeling goosebumps beginning to rise already, you recline onto the bed and slip your hand into your underwear, wasting no time as you begin rubbing slow circles into your clit. You’re almost embarrassed at the fact that you’re already fairly wet just from thinking about him, but then again, it’s not really that surprising. Ok, yeah, this is exactly what I needed. Well, maybe not exactly. If it was perfect, he’d really be here fucking me. The mere idea of that causes your fingers to speed up their ministrations, attempting to replicate the pleasure your mind is imagining in real time. You’ve been here before, touching yourself at the thought of having sex with that demon, but it’s starting to happen more often than you’d care to admit.

Ignoring your inner voice of shame, you focus your whole energy on getting yourself off, your hips twitching involuntarily as you continue. You’re audibly panting at this point, chasing your release at a fast pace. No need for slow pleasantries, this is just about me relieving some tension. Once I’m done, maybe I’ll actually be able to focus on something besides him. Maybe.

After a short while, you can quickly feel your release approaching as you continue to think of him. You’re so close, you can tell that you’re starting to lose yourself. You imagine his big brown eyes looking up at you, expression clouded with lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His pointed fangs scraping your inner thighs… “Beetlejuice…” His lewd face as you suck his cock... “Beetlejuice!”

“Well, well, well, look who decided to come crawling ba-“

Pulled from the brink, you practically jump straight up in the air from where you lay in bed as you hear a familiar voice, too authentic to be fantasy. You snap your head up to see Beetlejuice standing at the foot of your bed, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them and streaks of hot pink just starting to tint his hair.

You quickly regain your senses and pull up the covers. “B-BEETLEJUICE?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Beetlejuice, however, is not as fast on the recovery. “I…you…” Slack-jawed and speechless, he stutters out a few syllables that somewhat resemble words before shaking his head as if to clear his brain. “H-hang on, you’re the one who summoned me!”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, I…” Your world suddenly comes crashing down on you with the weight of a thousand bricks. “…did. Oh, God, I did…” Your face begins to turn red hot, the obvious implications of this scenario making you want to pass away on the spot. Nope, not even death would help me get out of this one.

You can practically see the gears in Beetlejuice’s head turning, albeit slowly. “You…you summoned me? You called out my name three times. While…” The sudden lightbulb moment is very visible as his hand moves to cover his mouth and dozens more streaks of neon pink suddenly overtake his hair, his face darkening to match. For a moment, you worry that you’ve broken him, only for the demon to finally meet your gaze with a goofy grin that only spreads wider by the moment. “You like me, don’t you?”

“Obviously, dipshit!” You grab a decorative pillow from next to you and toss it at his head, which he easily dodges. You can only think to react with righteous indignation, despite the fact that this situation really is entirely your fault. Probably a defense mechanism to shield yourself from the fact that you’d really love to melt into a puddle on the floor right now.

Beetlejuice, on the other hand, seems far more elated about this than you’d ever expected, practically jumping around for joy. “You do! You really do like me! And it’s gotta be a lot, considering the fact that you like me enough to call out my name when you masturbate, heh. Do you do that often, or did I just do really well at seducing you today?” He strikes a mock sexy pose as if to prove his point.

Despite the added embarrassment of him calling you out so easily, you sit up straighter and raise an eyebrow inquisitively. “You’re…not mad?”

Beetlejuice looks practically bewildered at the very notion. “Me? Mad? Why would I be mad? I’ve been flirting with you so hard that I was offering to drop your panties since the day we met, and you think I’d be mad to see that you wanted it to happen just as bad as I did? Wow, you humans really are funny sometimes.”

“Wait, you were being serious? I thought you acted like that with everyone.”

He opens his mouth to defend himself, closes it after a moment of silence, and then moves to coyly rub his neck instead. “Ok, yeah, when you put it like that, I can see where the confusion comes in here. But yes, I meant everything I said! And I mean everything, babes.” He waggles his eyebrows for ridiculous punctuation.

You blink up at him in shock. No fucking way this is happening. No way is this demon freely admitting that he wants to have sex with me right back, no jokes anywhere to be seen. This must be a dream.

But Beetlejuice is still standing at the end of your bed, real as ever, and beginning to look more than a little bit antsy. “So, um…you gonna invite me to join you, or just make me watch? ‘Cuz to be honest, I, uh, wouldn’t hate either outcome here, so long as I can stay.”

You have a decision to make. You could say his name three times right now to banish him and never speak of this incident again as long as you both shall live and die, or you could finally get to live out the fantasies that have been plaguing you ceaselessly as of late. In the end, it isn’t even really a choice when the best answer is so easily clear.

Your eyes flick up to meet his. “Come here. On your knees.”

Beetlejuice’s face lights up at this command. “Oho, you don’t have to ask me twice!” With that, he practically dives to the floor at your bedside, looking up at you expectantly.

You smile slightly, turning to face Beetlejuice and slide your lower torso out from under the sheets to hang your legs off the side of the bed. Before he can say something lewd, you move to cup his face with your hands. Immediately, he seems taken aback at your gentle action from the stunned, blinking look on his face. Smiling softly, you begin rubbing his beard with your thumbs in a way that makes his eyes roll back into his head a bit. Boy, is he touch-starved. Let’s fix that.

Without another word, you lean in and bring your lips to his, giving him a fairly sweet kiss that he absolutely melts into. You never would’ve expected it of a demon, but Beetlejuice really does have the softest lips you’ve ever kissed, and returns the energy you give him tenfold. It’s pretty cute how much a simple kiss seems to affect him, and you aren’t complaining as you feel his sharp teeth scrape your lips, either. You part your lips a bit to allow his tongue entrance, and he accepts the invitation immediately. His inhumanly long tongue slips in your mouth, wrapping around and rubbing against your tongue almost like a tentacle or other complex appendage. You scrunch up your face at the intrusion, not bad, but strange how it feels as though it’s investigating your mouth of its own accord, prodding and rubbing at you. It’s definitely different from kissing a regular human, but it’s pretty hot, so you’re not complaining by any means. After a few moments, you feel the need to break away and come up for air, panting for breath while Beetlejuice just kneels there in front of you motionless, like he’s just had a particularly amazing out-of-body experience.

After getting a good amount of air into your lungs, you give a small fond smile at his flustered demeanor. “Oh, Beetlejuice, I’m sorry I was so dismissive of you earlier,” you soothe, moving one hand to stroke his neon hair. “You were really just looking out for me, weren’t you?”

He audibly gulps. “Y-yeah…”

“Aw, you really are sweet. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you, baby.”

The more affectionate words you say, the less composed he is as he speaks, made clear by his bright red face and dopey grin. “Heh, s’okay…I kinda like it when you’re mean to me…” Beetlejuice averts his gaze and sinks his face into your hand as he says this. His words are so muffled that they’re almost unintelligible, but you manage to make them out just fine.

“Oh? You do? You really like it when I’m mean to you?” He nods his head quickly, still looking down in embarrassment. Well, this is already going better than I could’ve ever hoped. “Hm, I think I can do that for you. How about you show me how good that tongue really feels, to start off?” You spread your legs suggestively, his head at the perfect level.

Beetlejuice bites his lip in anticipation, his shyness melting away as he’s reminded of getting you off. “Oh yeah, I’ll show you, alright. You have no idea what you’re in for, babes. I’m well-known for my skills in this field, you’ll have the time of y-mmph!” His blathering is interrupted by you grabbing the black tie that hangs around his neck and tugging him closer to you with a swift motion, drawing a whimper from the demon.

“Can’t talk and eat pussy at the same time.”

“Mm, y-you underestimate my abilities…” Beetlejuice always has to have the last word, but he at least doesn’t waste any more time. Tentatively, he slides both of his clawed hands up from your knees to your inner thighs, spreading your legs a bit more to allow more room for his head to fit between them. Your underwear is still on, albeit completely soaked through, which he seems to note with a quiet smug look up at you. In one swift move, he hooks two clawed fingers from each hand around the narrowest strip of the fabric on the sides of your thighs and pulls the garment down slowly, never once breaking eye contact. You’re filled with a nerve-wracking sensation of nakedness as he does this, not just physically, but on a deeper level too. You never realized how deeply revealing it is to have someone watching your expression so shamelessly, gauging your exact reaction as he undresses you. It makes you feel transparent and fully see-through, like a ghost.

Finally, Beetlejuice slips your underwear off of your body fully, twirling it around one of his fingers in pride before pulling back and slingshotting it away with reckless abandon. Returning his head to rest right between your thighs, where there is nothing blocking him from his goal now. You half-expect a stupid remark now that he’s finally right where he’s been aching to be, but he takes you by surprise by just staring at your body in silent reverence for a moment. It’s almost eerie to hear such a long silence from Beetlejuice, who’s made it his full-time career to annoy you up to this point, but it’s kind of flattering at the same time. After a few beats, he seems to shake himself out of his own stupor and looks up at you with a more familiar lopsided smirk.

Before either of you can say anything, he seems to remember that he was given a job to do and begins to unfurl that tongue that you’ve been daydreaming so much about. At full length, it’s about a foot long, forked and striped, always looking like it’s moving of its own accord like a dark slimy tentacle. You’ve seen him loll it out before, so you know good and well what it looks like, but that was always when Beetlejuice was trying to entertain you by acting silly or creepy. In a situation like this, however, it was almost enough to make you feel faint. Consequences be damned, this is the best decision I’ve ever made.

Ever a creature of impatience, Beetlejuice leans down to lick a long, slow stripe starting at the bottom of your pussy and working his way to the top, right up the middle. As soon as he makes contact, you feel as though an electric shock has shot through your lower abdomen. The first thing that your mind registers is how surprisingly cold his tongue is. Sometimes you forget that he’s not a living human and doesn’t have the natural warmth that you’ve come to expect from people. Instead, his body has a natural chilliness to it, and you’ve wondered before if that’s a demon trait or just a Beetlejuice-specific quirk. Either way, the feeling of his long, cold tongue on your pussy is delightfully shocking enough to excite you even more than you could’ve ever expected. He gives another long lick and your hips buck in time without any input from your conscious mind, and you cover your mouth to stifle a moan. Is it just because I was already close, or is Beetlejuice’s tongue actually just the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life?

You don’t get much time to consider this, however, as Beetlejuice notices your full-body reaction, chuckles darkly, and quickly dives back in for more. This time, he’s in it to prove himself, pushing more of his long tongue out to efficiently swirl all around your pussy, going at a speed that would be impossible for a normal human with a normal-length tongue. It’s practically chaotic, but it feels so all-consumingly good that you throw your head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. You reach to grab at his hair, which only seems to spurn him on to move faster, his tongue practically spasming as it writhes against you. It brushes over your inner thighs, your entrance, your clit, practically all of the above at once because of its length, and it’s starting to bring you back to your precipice at an alarming rate.

“F-fuck, Beej…don’t stop, whatever you do, please...” You pull at his hair with more force, putting some power behind your command and drawing a needy whine from the demon. To his credit, he doesn’t stop, and seems to be doing his best to speed up his already-fast work.

If his expression is anything to go by, Beetlejuice seems to take a deep pride in how greatly he’s affecting you in such little time, and he whimpers out little words in between his ministrations. “You-“ He laps at your clit with his pointed tip. “Taste-“ He teases your entrance with the broad side of his tongue. “Delicious…” He draws most of his tongue back into his mouth, only to learn forward to suck on your clit with his whole mouth, his beard tickling your inner thighs as he does.

You’re beyond the point of words, but your thighs tighten around his head to wordlessly show him how close you are. You close your eyes to find a moment’s reprieve from the overstimulation, but when you reopen them, you inadvertently lock eyes with Beetlejuice as he continues to suckle at your clit. You’re blown away by the intense way he looks up at you; his eyelashes are obscuring his eyes in a way that makes him look absolutely beautiful, and weirdly enough, almost sweet and innocent at this angle. This is the moment when you distantly realize you’ve fully lost your mind, but you don’t have long to come to terms with your newfound insanity as your orgasm builds at an exponential rate. Suppressing a lewd sound, you grab fistfuls of his hair, grappling for any sort of leverage as your hips begin to buck against his face and your orgasm is suddenly crashing down on you with the force of a tidal wave. You lean down and wrap your arms around him for fear that you may topple over, still keeping the same tight grip on his hair, which causes his head to pull back forcefully and his face to turn upwards. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out the pleasure, eventually releasing his hair when you collapse against his form, your arms draping over his back and chest pressed to his head, feeling boneless and overwhelmingly good. You lean against him for a good few moments, trying to catch your breath and sit back up at the same time.

Beetlejuice stirs slightly beneath you. “No need to rush. I’m doing great right where I am right now. Really, take your time.” You raise an eyebrow, only to quickly realize that your chest is, in fact, pressed directly up against his face. You snort, but remain still for the moment. The only movements in your body are the intense thumps of your heart and the gentle stroking of your hands in Beetlejuice’s hair. After what feels like minutes, you finally pull away from him and prop yourself upright to survey the situation. Specifically, you take in eyefuls of the demon trembling below you, who is looking up at you with a hazy Cheshire grin, licking his lips and very obviously straining against his pants.

You grin salaciously down at where Beetlejuice kneels, reveling in how much you’ve already affected him. “Aw, I bet you’ve been so horny this whole time and still ate me out first without a word. What a good boy.”

His eyes widen. “Fuck, babes…” Beetlejuice openly palms at his clothed dick, making you start to feel warmth between your legs yet again. “S-say that again.”

“That’s not how you ask for something.”

His eyes dart downward as he lets out a shaky sound beneath you, then slowly tilts his head up to meet your gaze. “Please.” The way he whines out the plea is enough to get you a little bit drunk on power. Jesus Christ, this man is gonna be the death of me.

“That’s my good boy.” You hold back a shiver at his immediate and audible reaction. “You really must have wanted this for awhile, the way you’re doing everything I tell you to do so well.”

Beetlejuice moans softly, making no effort to stifle it. “W-well, you did summon me, doll. It’s my job now to make sure you’re totally happy with my work. So, whaddaya say…satisfied with my professional work ethic yet?” He sticks the tip of his tongue out teasingly, eyes lidded.

You giggle at his antics, just as present during sex as they are always. If anything, you’re impressed with his restraint since, so far, he hasn’t pulled any wild reality-bending nonsense to fuck with you while he’s…well, fucking you. “Oh, absolutely. I’d give you a five star review on LinkedIn, no doubt about it.”

He snickers, smiling so wide that his fangs are easily visible. “Hell yeah.”

Looking at him fondly, you move your right hand to untangle itself from his hair and move to scratch at his beard, which Beetlejuice leans into appreciatively. “But y’know, I’m not selfish. You seem a little worked up there, huh? I’d never leave my favorite demon to deal with that all by himself, especially after how good you were to me.” Your hand moves down from his beard, coming to rest on his chest. “How’s about it then, bug boy? You want my hands on your cock?”

Beetlejuice’s big brown eyes are as wide as saucers, and his hair is so vibrantly hot pink that you’re sure it would be blinding in better lighting. “Yes. Please. Oh God, (Y/N), I need you so bad. If you don’t touch me, I’m gonna die and go to whatever’s after the Netherworld, I’m serious.”

“Well, I definitely don’t want that!” You sigh fondly at his dramatics, then pat the space on the bed next to you. “Come on up, I want you right here with me. And lose some of those clothes on the trip up, you’re making me feel underdressed for the occasion.”

“Y-yeah, I can do that.” He wasn’t lying, you really don’t have to ask him twice. He immediately begins shrugging off his iconic striped jacket and slips his suspenders from his shoulders, leaving only his partially-unbuttoned undershirt and tie on below it. He crawls up onto the bed and sits back next to you, mirroring your posture with an air that’s much more shy. Once he’s up, he unbuttons his striped pants and pulls them down enough for his growing erection to be free of their confines, though still trapped in his underwear (also striped, points for staying true to theme). You’d have expected Beetlejuice to be overly confident and full of himself in a situation like this, but now that you’re both in it, this reality-bending, all-powerful demon looks…small. Nervous. Averting your gaze. You feel a need to reassure him overtake you.

“Hey, Beetlejuice? You alright? I know I talk big, but…we don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.” You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Beetlejuice snaps his head up towards you with a wary expression. “No, it’s not that I…I mean, it’s just that…even though I say it, I’ve never…really…” He pauses his jumbled words to collect his thoughts. “It’s different…to have attention on yourself…I guess.” He sighs in frustration and looks away. “Ugh, this is ridiculous. I do want this, I swear I do. I’m just being…stupid.”

“Hey, this isn’t stupid. I’m serious, don’t say that.” You never would’ve expected this level of self-doubt and anxiety from the demon that literally held everybody else in this house captive during a temper tantrum once, but it just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its war crimes. “What can I do to make it better?”

Beetlejuice looks back to you with a vulnerable expression that you wouldn’t have thought him capable of. “Just…keep doing what you normally do, I guess. Like I said, the problem here is me.” He’s quiet for a contemplative moment. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud, so if you ever tell anybody, I’ll feed you alive to a sandworm. For real.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You cross your heart for good measure, making his eyes soften their wary gaze.

“Ok, the thing is, most people have never really…liked me. I know, I couldn’t believe it either, heh. But it’s true, everyone that’s ever summoned me has just used me up for my power and hated me the whole time while doing it. Even if I tried to roll over and do whatever it took to appeal to them, it never worked, so I figured, might as well just do whatever I want if they’ll hate me either way. So that’s what I’ve done, and it made me kinda…not like me, either. I mean, my own mother thought I was a disappointment, so that’s pretty pathetic, right? The closest I got to a friendship was when Lydia summoned me, but I went and messed that up, too. But…” He pushes his forehead against your shoulder so he won’t have to look you in the eye, purple quickly overtaking his hair. “You seemed to like being around me, right? At least a little bit? And I guess I just didn’t want you to see all of me and decide you…didn’t like it, like everyone else. It’s one thing if I do something for you, but I guess it’s…weirdly scarier to let you do things for me. If you do, it’s like I’m not being…useful, or something. See, you can see how ridiculous this sounds, so that’s why it’s just a me being dumb problem.”

You stay quiet for a moment, taking in Beetlejuice’s first words from vulnerable standpoint with you. You don’t want to say the wrong thing and make him regret ever opening up, so you ponder all of the occasions that you’ve spent time with him and bring your hands up to pet his head reassuringly. He can get on my nerves, but for all of his button pushing, I always look forward to his company. He’s silly, and fun, and even unexpectedly sweet at times. “Well…I can agree that it’s a you being wrong problem, at least. Because I do love being around you, Beetlejuice. And I’m sorry that people have made you feel less-than in the past, but I think they’re idiots for missing out on the fun of getting to know you. You don’t need to be “useful” to keep me from leaving, I want to do nice things for you too, no conditions attached. I like you. I want you. You’re perfect as you are.” You press a tender kiss to his forehead.

If Beetlejuice disagrees, he doesn’t say. Instead, he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, trembling enough that you can feel it against your body. “I love you.”

You try to hide how taken aback you are by his words, electing to wrap your arms around him to conceal it. “I love you too.” And the two of you stay just like that for an impossible to determine amount of time, just holding each other gently. You feel wetness against your neck but say nothing and silently hope that you’re doing this right. He loves me. He really said it himself.

After some time, Beetlejuice pulls back and you can finally look at that cute face you’re so fond of again. His expression is sheepish and his hair painted in a gradient of light pink to magenta, tinges of purple confined to the tips of his hair at this point. “Sorry, I ruined the mood there. Not a lotta guys can have a breakdown with their pants down, but as you can see, I am a man of many talents.” His voice is soft, but sounding steadier and more comfortable than it did a few moments before.

You chuckle softly. “Hey, you didn’t ruin anything. I still had no plans of using you for myself only to leave you high and dry.”

“Heh, you mean it?”

“Of course, I mean, as long as you’re up for it.”

“Oh hell yeah, I can bare my soul and still be horny. I can multitask.” A familiar grin lights up his face at the sound of your laughter, his usual personality returning to him bit by bit.

“Good, I still had a lot of things I wanted to do with you. But seriously, if you change your mind at any point, please just tell me. I want you to be comfortable and enjoy yourself, so if you’re not ready, that’s ok.” Part of you realizes that he’s an all-powerful demon who could easily put a stop to anything at a moment’s notice if he felt like it, but another part told you to be extra kind and considerate with him. You want him to know that although he could forcibly end anything he disliked with his powers, he didn’t have to feel the need to use force. You would always respect the power of his words just as much.

He raises his eyebrows. “Heh, look at you, caring about me ‘n’ shit. That works for me, but what, are you plannin’ on tying me up and blindfolding me? Some real kinky shibari shit?”

You pretend to think about it, tapping your chin. “Hm, maybe not this time.” You begin kissing along Beetlejuice’s jawline, stubble scratching at your face as you do. You take the moment to scooch the two of you away from the edge and closer to the center of the bed, with him sitting up against your pillows. Once he’s comfortable, you crawl over to straddle his lap, causing him to groan out a beautiful sound below you. You finally remove your top, ridding yourself of your last piece of clothing before getting to work on him.

“Nice,” Beetlejuice half-whispers, having been watching you slowly peel your shirt off as though he were studying for a test.

“Hey, sounds like I might’ve secured myself that five star review too.”

“Oh fuck yeah, by tits alone. Don’t get me started on everything else, they haven’t even invented a grading scale that goes that high yet.”

You giggle, leaning down to softly kiss his lips and scratch at his beard. Beetlejuice immediately melts to your touch and tilts his head up, giving you easy access to begin trailing downward slowly with your kisses. You move to place kisses along his neck, drinking in the soft sounds that are forming in his throat and causing your lips to vibrate ever so slightly from the rumbles beneath them. Taking your sweet time, you kiss down to just above his collarbone and begin loosening his tie to get at him better. Once it’s wide enough, you slip it overtop his head and let it fall onto the sheets, then you unbutton the last few buttons of his undershirt so that that can slide off of his shoulders as well. Mimicking him from earlier, you chuck the shirt away haphazardly with a satisfied grin.

“Hey, watch the suit, doll,” he quips, with absolutely no bite behind the words. If anything, he just seems a bit breathless. I didn’t think he needed to breathe. Is he just doing that to egg me on?

“I’d rather watch what’s under it, thanks.” You scrunch up your nose playfully and return to your barrage of kisses, happy to now have his bare torso to work with.

“Wow. I’d normally roll my eyes at that, but I’m actually kinda flattered that you’re using lines that are so dumb, they sound like they came from me.”

“Yeah, your Beetlejuice-isms are contagious.” Without his suit, you can better admire that his stomach and arms are a good mix of soft and round and chubby but also pretty strong, giving him a really cute body that you’re getting a bit sick of not having your hands on. Immediately moving to rectify the situation, you pepper kisses and lightly suckle along Beetlejuice’s collarbone. You relish in the heavy rise and fall of his chest under you before moving downward to flick your tongue across his nipple. You’re immediately rewarded with a high-pitched gasp as he arches his back slightly, sending you the cutest pleading look right after. You’re unsure if he’s aware of how strong that kind of positive reinforcement is, but he’ll probably figure it out quickly since you’re already dragging your tongue across his nipple again, bringing one hand up to brace yourself against his bicep and trailing the other down his stomach with one slow, featherlight touch.

Beetlejuice snorts out a giggle between his more lewd sounds and covers his stomach protectively. “H-hey, careful now, I’m ticklish…and add that to the list of things you are not allowed to share with anyone, ever, under any circumstances.”

You chuckle. “I promise.” He looks utterly unconvinced but just pouts his lip wordlessly in embarrassment. I’m really not sure if he knows how cute he is and uses it to his advantage or if this just comes naturally to him. Either option is pretty scary. You move your hand back farther down still to finally graze the top of his clothed dick, fingertips dancing lightly against his strained underwear as you move to fully suck on his other nipple.

“Ughh, you’re such a tease,” he chokes out, moving to cover his face with one hand.

You frown. “Hey, don’t hide from me. It’s not fair if you get to look me in the eye while eating my pussy if I can’t do the same for you when I’m being a cocktease.” Begrudgingly, he grumbles something unintelligible and moves his arm out of his face, looking down at you with faux irritation, causing your smile to only widen. “Wow, your face is almost brighter than your hair right now. Wonder what made that happen.” As you speak, you drag your fingers down his shaft with even more pressure, causing him to make a choked sound. Your hips move to grind down on the thigh that you’re currently sitting astride before you can even think twice about it, the quick friction making you bite your lip to hold in a gasp.

“B-babes, I’m begging ya.” Beetlejuice looks unspeakably horny below you, but you can’t quite resist the thrill of making him work for it.

“Huh, that’s weird, cuz I didn’t hear actually any begging at all, Beetlejuice. But that is a good idea, maybe you should try it.”

“Ohhh, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”

You bark out a laugh at his immediate and visibly desperate response. If he had any pride before, it seems it had vanished the moment that you first touched him. Taking pity, you finally remove his bottoms completely, feeling quiet satisfaction when his cock is freed and you get to see just how hard he really is. It stands fully erect and leaking precum, matching the color of his flushed face perfectly.

“Y’know, when you actually put in the effort, you’re pretty good at playing nice,” you coo, dragging a single finger up his length from bottom to top.

Beetlejuice represses a shiver and instead lets out a low growl. “Careful, I can still flip you over and rail you into the bed ‘til you can’t speak if I feel like it.”

“Not that a little power struggle with you doesn’t sound awesome, but I have a feeling you won’t do that tonight. Like you said, you want me to be mean to you.” You punctuate your sentence by grabbing his twitching dick and lightly squeezing, enough to make him squirm. “You want to see what I’ll do to you if I have control.” As if challenging him to say otherwise, you begin slowly pumping his cock, looking him directly in the eye as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

Beetlejuice breaks eye contact first, unable to hold your intense gaze as he’s slowly pleasured. “M-maybe, but I still have a good memory. Next time I’m in a more dominating kind of mood, you’ll b-be sorry y-mmph!” Whatever he was about to say is quickly silenced by you running your thumb over the slit of his cock and then immediately picking up the pace of your strokes, causing Beetlejuice to descend into a cacophony of moans that he isn’t even attempting to keep at a reasonable volume level.

You pause your ministrations. “Shh, Beej, other people live here! You want Charles to know you’re getting your shit rocked all the way from his home office? Or the Maitlands in the attic?”

He tilts his head to lean further back into your soft pillows, looking as though he’s truly considering his position on the idea. “Mm, well, my brain is telling me you want to hear a no, but my humiliation kink is just giving me a resounding yes.” This little shit.

You sigh and shake your head, only to catch something you’d forgotten on the bed not long ago out of the corner of your eye. Immediately, you’re struck with a wondrous idea. You grab Beetlejuice’s black tie from where it had been strewn across the bed and ball it up in your hand. Beetlejuice watches you carefully with a confused expression, tilting his head at your handiwork. Once finished, your eyes glisten with a mischief usually more common to his face.

“Open.” With a single word, you cause Beetlejuice’s entire expression to shift into one of shock, but certainly not in a bad way. Surprisingly, he doesn’t say a word, only shoots you what you can only describe as a proud, horny grin and opens his mouth wide, saliva practically dripping from his lips and fangs. This turns you on way more than expected, and you find yourself mentally debating with yourself on whether it’s sexy in a gross way or gross in a sexy way, before ultimately coming back to your senses and stuffing the tie into his mouth as a gag before you could think on this any further.

Beetlejuice adjusts the tie with his tongue to properly fit. He tries to speak, but the only thing that ends up coming out is something like, “Mm fhh dmmm.”

You giggle at his attempt. “Well, if you need to tell me anything important, I think you’ll need to take that out first.” He narrows his eyes in a look that very clearly communicates yeah, no shit. But he doesn’t make any attempt to remove it, so it must not have been very important. Satisfied with your new setup, you return your hand to his cock, pumping as slowly as you had been in the beginning to get him started.

Beetlejuice, however, is not having it. He nearly knocks you off of where you’re straddling him by violently bucking his hips up into your hand. You carefully reposition your naked body as he finds a way to smirk at you through his gag, because of course he can do that. If he can’t make noise, he can easily find another way to make his impatience crystal clear to you.

“I’m sure you think you’re funny, but the more time you spend playing bull-rider, the less likely I am to let you cum anytime soon.” Your words immediately cause his hips to twitch upwards, but he seems to keep himself under better control this time. Of course, knowing Beetlejuice, he’ll probably do it again within the minute if he thinks it’ll push your buttons and/or result in you possibly edging him. You decide to cut him off at the pass by grabbing his dick and vigorously jacking him off without any warning. His eyes practically bug out of his head in surprise before high-pitched moans and squeals start to pour out of him, significantly quieted by the gag in his mouth but still plenty audible enough for you to enjoy. And enjoy you do, keeping up your brutal pace as he squirms deliciously under your touch. Not content to be the only one taken by surprise, he grabs at your chest and begins squeezing with reckless abandon, rolling your nipples under his clawed fingers as he lets out a stifled cry. Between focusing on giving the handjob of your life, drinking in Beej’s reactions, and having your nipples roughly played with, you don’t even realize that you’re rocking your naked pussy against his thigh until you can feel your own arousal rising again.

Though you’re certain you could reach another orgasm if you just keep at it, you decide to slow down so your brain doesn’t fizzle out and forget to focus on making your demon happy. Instead, you lift your body up to bring your face right up to his, slowing your hand motions. Before anything else can happen, you spare yourself a moment to really look at Beetlejuice’s face from slightly below, and what you see in his eyes makes you almost cum untouched. He’s desperately close, almost lost in the sensations you’ve wrapped him in, but still anchored tight to you by gaze alone. If he wasn’t gagged, he would almost certainly be begging again, if he could get any coherent words in between his moans. As it stands, he looks like he’d give you anything in the world right now as long as you keep looking at him and keep touching him. And you’re happy to oblige.

“Gonna cum, Beej? You look preeeetty close.”

He cries out a muffled sound at your words, his hips practically shaking as he wordlessly begs for more, his pleading eyes inches away from your own, scanning your expression for any sign of acquiescence. Fun as it may be to play with him, I shouldn’t toy with him too much for right now. Wouldn’t really be fair after how well he’s treated me.

“Alright.” With a single word, you cease the cruel slow strokes that you’d been teasing him with and swiftly return to the frenzied, messy pumping of his cock that made him arch his back and practically scream beneath his gag. You’re relentless this time, keeping up the sloppy pace while you bring your free hand up to cup his cheek. You would’ve tilted his head to make him look at you, but he’s already been locked onto you since the beginning and you don’t think you’d be able to make him look away now if you tried. You feel dizzy and it’s intoxicating. “Cum for me, Beetlejuice.”

With a moan that almost renders his gag useless and the distant unexplained sound of fabric ripping, Beetlejuice cums hard, coating your hand and belly as you’re leaned over him in a fluid that resembles human semen way more than you actually expected. After fully finishing, he collapses back for a moment, removing the gag from his mouth himself and catching his metaphorical breath. You allow your own worked-up body to lay more comfortably against his chest while he comes down from everything.

“Ok, don’t be mad, I think I may have ripped up your mattress a little bit.” He opens one eye to peek out at you, as though actually expecting you to be angry with him. Sure enough, you look at where his hands were gripping the sheets on either side of him and see distinct, deep claw marks raking down the surface of the bed.

You hum noncommittally to yourself. “Well, I can’t really be mad about something that boosts my ego like that.” Instead you look down at the mess that’s been made of you and consider what to do about it.

Beetlejuice’s eyes follow yours down. “It does glow in the dark, if you were wondering.” His lips twitch upwards, looking quite proud of his fun fact.

“No fuckin’ way.”

“Oh?” Beetlejuice offers a smug smile, then dims the dull lights of your room with his powers until they’ve fully shut off. Sure enough, your entire stomach, hand, and part of your bed is glowing a fluorescent green, his signature shade. He flashes a proud smile at the sight of it. “Told ya so!”

“Ok, color me impressed.” You swipe some of the liquid from your stomach with a finger, studying it inquisitively. “Hey BJ, are you radioactive? If I taste this, will I die?”

Beetlejuice’s face flushes so badly, you can even make it out in this poor lighting. “Uh, no, but I might…”

“Oh, awesome.” You stick the finger of glowing cum in your mouth, relishing the taste of your favorite demon. It’s not too different from a human’s, but it does have a faint taste of sweetness, almost like green apple candy or something. It was certainly fitting for him. “Hey, bring those lights back up, I’m dying to see your mood ring hair unlock new shrimp colors when you see me licking up your cum.”

Wordlessly, Beetlejuice brings back enough light to see each other well in. You’re a bit disappointed to not see any new colors yet undiscovered by man in his hair, but in reality, you may have maxed out the hot pink’s vibrancy today. What you are surprised to see, however, is Beetlejuice’s dick already hardening again as you take another lick of his cum from your palm.

You blink in surprise. “Woah, how are you already getting horny again that fast? Do you have some kind of penis-based superpower that you’ve somehow never mentioned despite you being yourself?”

Beetlejuice lowly chuckles to himself, making shivers run down your back at the tone. “Eh, sort of? See, demons aren’t like humans in that we can all go multiple rounds, regardless of equipment, no problemo. We very often have enormously high libidos that a delicate little breather like you could never hope to keep up with, but hey, you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.” He raises and lowers his eyebrows like a suggestive idiot.

You absentmindedly play with the tufts of hair behind his ears. “Well, you got me there. I’m down for another round if you are. I’ve wanted to ride you for months now, so the spirit is certainly willing.”

“Fuck yeah I am! I’m beyond willing! As long you know that I’ve got the stamina of a cheetah and can totally outlast you on this.”

“I’m pretty sure cheetahs are known for their great speed but awful stamina.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t give a shit.”

You give an involuntary snort-laugh at his quick retort, causing the demon to beam at you with unmistakable adoration, gently pushing some loose hair out of your face. It’s almost off-putting to see such an unashamedly wholesome expression plastered across the face of a supernatural being that has spent his existence being feared by so many, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t also bring you joy unlike any other to be lucky enough to see him like this. So many people didn’t deserve to, and you aren’t exactly sure what you did to become worthy of the privilege, but you won’t question it.

“Here, allow me to level the playing field,” Beetlejuice says, snapping his fingers. You whip your head around the room, but nothing appears to have changed.

“Uh, what exactly did you do?”

“Oh, nothing. I just soundproofed the room for a little bit. I wanna hear you scream, babes.” His eyes narrow at you as his arms engulf you in a light embrace, pulling you closer. His claws come up to rest on your shoulders, the pinpricks pressing against your skin and threatening to break it.

You raise a teasing eyebrow. “You…couldn’t have done that from the beginning?”

“I like the thrill of possibly getting caught, sue me! But hey, if this is what it takes to get you loud, well, I’ll make the sacrifices that I gotta.”

“You really wanna hear me that bad, huh?” Beetlejuice shakes his head so hard it looks as though it should be making a cartoonish sound effect. “Well, I’d honestly love to hear you without that gag too, so I guess we’re in the same boat.” You lift yourself back up to better straddle his naked body again, hovering just above his erect cock and flashing him a sly smile. “Now fuck me, demon boy.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes widen. “Oho, with pleasure.” More than happy to comply, he grabs onto your hips with his clawed hands and gently but firmly maneuvers you down to line up with the head of his dick.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, causing the demon to whine softly below you. After a moment, you’ve fully lowered yourself down and sheathed him inside of you, a full but not at all uncomfortable fit. You give it a moment of stillness to adjust before rocking your hips a bit, feeling his dick twitch inside of your cunt as you do. He immediately reacts by moaning loudly and snapping his hips up against you like a man possessed.

“Fuck, Beej…” You groan at almost a growl pitch, the feeling of him moving inside you almost too much at once.

“Mm…could do better…that sound was only maybe a three outta ten. I’ll have to-mmph-up my game.” God, it is just like this guy to make pleasuring me into a game. I guess I’m not complaining, though. As if on cue with your thoughts, Beetlejuice grabs your back just below the shoulder blades to quickly pull you in close to his chest, his claws applying enough force to definitely leave some red marks in their wake but not enough to hurt badly. The sudden dig of his claws only causes you to start rocking your hips at a faster pace, making it plainly obvious how much you enjoy him handling you so roughly.

“Y-you can try, but I doubt you’ll be able to hear me over yourself soon.”

Beetlejuice responds with silence, which you’ve learned usually means he’s planning to do something that he doesn’t want you to know about. From where you’re pressed against his upper chest, you can’t quite see his face either unless you craned your neck to look up towards him. You don’t slow down your speed, but do feel a sense of horny dread wash over you at his continued silence. Suddenly and without warning, you feel sharp fangs sink into the vulnerable back of your neck where your shoulder connects. It’s so unexpected and hurts so good that you erupt into a chorus of shuddering gasps, unable to even form sentences as Beetlejuice keeps biting and sucking at your neck. His claws keep your squirming body in place as he continues his barrage, and you feel him smiling wider and wider into your skin the more noisy that you get. It’s so good, so overwhelmingly good, having him inside of you while also using those fangs that you love so much on you at the same time. You’re struck with the realization that you can’t let him play you like a fiddle so well without fighting back. Before you can think twice, you turn your face into the crook of his neck right above his collarbone and bite down on the skin even harder than he’s biting at you. You may not have fangs, but you are determined nonetheless.

“Jesus FUCK, (Y/N)!” Beetlejuice is forced to pause his bites to yelp a few similar exclamations. “Ohoho, you’re lucky I’m a demon freak who doesn’t mind being ripped a new collarbone, cuz wow.”

An apology half-forms in your mouth before you realize that that was probably his weird way of complimenting you rather than sarcasm. “Well, m-maybe now, after this, you’ll get to go through what I went through every time you flashed your stupid teeth in public.”

Beetlejuice pulls his head back so his face is in your view again, and you slow your rocking against him just a bit out of curiosity. He’s sporting a growing smile that looks practically delighted.

“Hold up, were you really that into my fangs from all the way back when? You had it that bad?”

You flush at his wording of a situation that you, personally, do not find as humorous as he seems to. “Hey, it’s not like it was just that. It was…all of you, I guess. Every little thing you did turned me on basically all the time, and, as you can imagine, it was a living nightmare.” You realize that that doesn’t exactly make you sound less like a pervert, but it also doesn’t help that his cock is still twitching inside of you and you can’t exactly think straight at the moment.

“Wow, so every time I was around you, you were just being a grade A horndog!” Beetlejuice cackles at his own joke. He is the only one laughing. “Aww, looks like we’re more alike than we thought! Cuz, I mean, you were doing the exact same thing to me all the time, so. Fair’s fair.”

You groan. “Oh my God, you were literally going through the exact same thing? We could’ve fucked ages ago and put ourselves out of that misery!”

He snorts. “Hey, it’s fine. Y’know what? I’m glad it turned out just how it did. Honest.” Your starry-eyed demon lifts a claw to gently cup your jawline.

You put your own hand on top of his. “Yeah, same here.”

Beetlejuice grins, then his face immediately shifts. “All right, I’ve done a lot of talking and now I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you have visions of the Netherworld. Boobs in my mouth, please.”

“HA!” You practically double over at his sudden mood shift, wiping a tear from your eye. “I’ll hold you to that, big guy.”

Before you can even start rocking, Beetlejuice takes things into his own hands and starts thrusting up into you at a fairly speedy pace. He’s holding your hips to keep you balanced, as well as maneuvering them to drive himself into you better. The angle that he’s hitting you at is already starting to make you see stars, and you roll your hips to meet him in time. Apparently, he was not kidding about the boobs in his mouth request, as he leans his head forward to latch onto your left nipple, sucking and ever-so-slightly grazing it with his sharp teeth. To make matters worse, he grabs the other with his claw and begins rolling his thumb over it, all while keeping his eyes locked onto yours, just as he did the last time his mouth was on you. It’s all so good, you can already feel your orgasm building again.

“Oh, don’t stop, Beej, that’s so good…” You’re nearly at the precipice again, focusing your energy on getting up and over. The image in front of you is certainly helping get you there, as Beetlejuice is truly giving it all he has at the moment. His expression shows that he’s right on the edge as well, as you focus on his beautiful brown eyes looking up at you with unmistakable love and lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His long tongue wrapping itself around your nipple… “Beetlejuice…” His cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you... “B-!”

Suddenly, you find two hands clamped over your mouth with surprising force. “Don’t.” The word comes out as a snarl next to your ear, taking you by surprise and sending a shiver down your whole frame. Before you can recover, an erratic snap of his hips sends you hurtling over the edge, an orgasm so intense that it makes your ears ring and your other senses dull for the duration. You moan loudly against his hand, which hasn’t yet moved and doesn’t do much to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Moments later, Beetlejuice moves to grab onto your hips and presses deep into you, holding you in place above him and filling you up with more of his otherworldly cum, all the while letting out gasping moans of his own like a man drowning. After filling you to his satisfaction, his arms fall limply to his side and you slump against him, both dazed and overstimulated. You catch your breath while Beetlejuice seems to be going through a factory reset, his eyes wide open and blinking harshly.

After gathering himself, he finally speaks. “Babes, I love you, but you really gotta get this name thing down if you don’t want me to suddenly poof away when I’m balls-deep inside of ya.”

You look at him sheepishly. “Heh, yeah, sorry. Good save though!” You finally lift yourself off of his dick, rolling your body haphazardly off of him to lay down at his side more comfortably.

He snorts. “Yeah, I bet you enjoyed me putting a stop to that. I’m thinking next time, I act like that from the start and we’ll see whose better at bossing who around.”

You begin lightly tracing patterns on his chest, resting your head on his bicep. “Oh yeah? And what if I wasn’t finished bossing you around yet?”

“Well, then you can peg me about it the next time!”

You giggle at his response while simultaneously filing it away for another day. Smiling into his bare skin, you feel your heartbeat begin to stabilize after quite a long period of elevation. Beetlejuice is still chilly to the touch, but in a way that unexpectedly comforts you, like a soft pillow after being flipped over in the middle of the night.

“Can we flip?” The demon’s sudden request paired with his big eyes meeting yours takes you out of your musings.

“You want to lay on me? Sure, c’mere.” You move to your back, patting your chest for him to lay on. He doesn’t hesitate, snuggling his head into a cozy position on your chest, his left cheek pressing up against your collarbone and his tussled pastel pink hair barely reaching up to tickle your neck. He’s in the perfect spot for you to drape your arms across his frame protectively, your hands coming up to gently rest on his shoulder and the side of his face. Your hands are tired and still, but even in a passive state, you find them needing to touch Beetlejuice without asking for your input. Even if it’s just the comforting brush of your fingers against his jawline, you can’t resist the ache to be close to him.

Beetlejuice leans into your touch. “Mm…you feel so nice…” He tilts his head so that his ear is pressed against your chest and practically melts against you. “Heh, I’ll never get used to that sound. Never thought I’d get to hear it so close, but it’s even better like this.” Your heartbeat instinctively quickens just a bit at his comment, and you feel Beetlejuice’s lips curl up in a smile. “Cute how I can change the tempo at will like that. Like the best radio in the world, babes.”

You blow air from your nose and kiss his head from above, mostly just getting his hair in the kiss from the angle you’re at. “I like your chilliness, you like my heartbeat…I’m starting to think this may work out for us after all!”

The demon snorts, repositioning his head to your shoulder so he can look you in the eye better. “Y’know, I really thought my awesome cock and subsequent use of it would be the thing that made you think that, but whatever seals the deal for ya, doll!”

“That too.” You sigh and close your eyes. “So, what are we gonna tell the others?”

“Uh, you got so horny after I annoyed you one day that you fucked me about it?”

“Beetlejuice, we are not telling people that.”

“Sorry, that you fucked me and you fucked me good. Better?” Your raised eyebrow is enough of an answer on its own. “Hm, and I thought you were a fan of honesty. Well, suit yourself. We can think of something more PG later, it’s not like we have to tell anyone tonight.”

“Well, I guess you are right on that front. I’ll think of a nice and polite way to bring it up at the family dinner table later.”

“Yeah, plus it’ll be a shitshow either way. They’re all gonna say that you’re too good for me, which yeah, fair.”

You brush some loose hairs out of his face reassuringly. “They can think whatever they wanna think. Doesn’t make ‘em right.” You kiss his lips gently, with the soft whisper of a promise at the edge of your own lips guiding your touch. “I love you, Beetlejuice.”

Beetlejuice looks so utterly overwhelmed by emotion after you speak that he can only think to immediately bury his face against you silently. He’s holding so tight to you, as though you could disappear at any moment if his grip slackens. Like you’re his lifeline. After multiple moments of heavy breathing directly against your skin, he manages to barely choke out a response. “Ditto.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the demon, rubbing circles into his back as a comfort. “Just rest now, baby. You did great.”

Beetlejuice looks up at you in relief. “Oh God, thanks for saying that. I’ve been drowsy since we stopped, I just didn’t wanna leave you alone.” Never would’ve guessed him as the most considerate type, but he sure loves to prove me wrong.

“No worries Beej, I’ll be right here next to you. I’m not going anywhere. You can sleep.”

With those last affirmations, Beetlejuice’s eyes almost immediately droop shut as he begins snoring lightly, asleep at an impressive speed for a demon or human. It’s pretty cute how tired he must’ve been before you told him to rest, you didn’t even know for sure if demons wanted and/or needed sleep til now. Yet here he is, making deep contented rumblings from the back of his throat, his head and torso acting like a soft weighted blanket on top of you. The presence of him sleeping soundly on you is deeply comforting, both physically and emotionally. This demon, who’s lived a million lifetimes and dealt with more shit than I could imagine in both the world of the living and dead, trusts me enough to fall asleep on me. He trusted me enough to talk to me about his feelings during sex. Beetlejuice, of all people. Even if I told someone as understanding as one of the Maitlands about that, I don’t think they’d really believe me. Or even really get it.

You reach one arm down to pull a sheet up over the both of you sloppily, just to have something covering you both. Human instincts for avoiding being preyed on by demons in the night always persist, despite your unique situation. As you adjust you pillow to make yourself comfortable for the night, you run your fingers through Beetlejuice’s hair, which is now settling back into its default green without any more external stimuli. You wonder bemusedly if it ever changes color in his sleep, then feel a peaceful rush of happiness when you realize that you’ll have ample time and opportunity to find out the answer. Overtaken by a quiet joy, you quickly lean your head over to kiss him goodnight on the forehead, trying everything in your power to somehow physically materialize this feeling of affection for Beetlejuice that is so strong and all-consuming, just so you could hold it so close that nothing bad would ever happen to it. In lieu of that impossibility, you hold Beetlejuice tighter in your arms instead, with the same goal in your mind.

Author’s Note: this took me an indefensible amount of time to write and if i look at it for another second i’ll go crazy so please take it and look at it with your own eyeballs so that mine can rest. on the fun side, can you tell that characters who always flirt with others by making bold sexual references but end up actually being really flustered and submissive when the other person finally reciprocates are my favorites? anyways i wanna pick this guy up by the scruff of his neck like a kitten, he is so special to me. originally this fic was supposed to be way less emotional but sometimes you’re writing and a character decides to have a breakdown halfway through a scene and you just gotta deal with that curveball when it’s coming at you. but i’m pretty happy with how it turned out, and i hope you guys enjoyed it too. thanks for reading! edit: hey you, want some more? i finally made a sequel lol (x)

[strniohoeee]

Revenant pt.2

Pairings: Matt Sturniolo X female reader, friends to lovers, feelings are admitted some more

Synopsis: Y/N has been suffering from her accident 7 months ago, but she’s not normal, and Matt notices. When they find out what happens will they help her be healed again???

Warnings⚠️: supernatural, ghosts, mentions of death, actual death, mentions of suicide. A single kiss….and that should be all it’s a spooky imagine😋

“I think we’ll have to try and get y/n back” Matt said looking at everyone

“Matt have you lost your fucking mind we are NOT about to idk “kill” y/n and hope her real soul comes back, do you know how fucking crazy that sounds!” Nick screeches at Matt

“I have to agree with Nick we have way too much on the line to attempt this, if y/n soul doesn’t come back we’re stuck with some random spirit who doesn’t know us” Chris said shaking his head and letting out a deep sigh

“Do you realize how insane this looks WE ARE ATTEMPTING TO GET A SPIRIT BACK TO THE RIGHT BODY?!?! WE’RE NOT FUCKING GHOST BUSTERS HOW IS THIS SHIT FUCKING REAL” Nick yelled at Matt with wide eyes and a shocked face

“Might I also add there’s no way this is real? Like no fucking way we sound fucking crazy” Chris said laughing a little

Y/N was completely silent watching the boys banter back and forth. She was contemplating if she wanted to do this or not; because this was in fact INSANE. They had to kill her physical body in order for her soul to come back. Was this a fucking movie?? She wasn’t too sure if she wanted to believe this. One part of her wanted to be back and enjoy her life like she was supposed to, but another part of her felt bad for the other spirit that most likely had no real body to go back to. She would be forgotten forever and feel lost and cold like Y/N had felt for those 7 months trying to figure out who *scratch that* WHAT she was. Y/N felt horrible just thinking about this poor soul having to truly die.

“Guys I’m not so sure how I feel about this” Y/N finally opened up while looking that the three boys

“What do you mean? Don’t you want to come back, and not be a ghost in our lives?” Chris said almost dumbfounded

“Of course I want to come back to you guys. I love and miss you, and these past 7 months have been dark and cold and lonely, but this other soul in me will soon feel that, and I don’t want her to feel how I felt. It’s a scary dark feeling” she says as she wipes tears from her eyes

“Y/N we can’t live without you, what are you going to do just take over this random spirit everyday, and leave her confused when she comes back to your body?” Matt asks, almost annoyed that Y/N would even think of not trying this.

“You know maybe I’m meant to die. Maybe I’m meant to just be a memory of yours, a ghost that follows you around. Maybe that’s what my fate has been all along” Y/N says to them, immediately their faces drop

“Have you lost your fucking mind? You are not meant to die! You are meant to be here with us can’t you see this? You’re meant to be here with me? You’re my Y/N” Matt said getting emotional

“You know y/n Matt’s right! If you weren’t meant to be alive your soul wouldn’t be here for as long as it did, after a while you’re supposed to come to terms and move on into the actual after life and not be a ghost searching” Padi said looking over at the boys

“But I’m scared. What if this doesn’t work out I’ll be gone forever then” y/n said avoiding eye contact out of heartbreak

“I’m very confident this will work. If I wasn’t sure I would’ve never brought it up” Padi responds walking over to Y/N and giving her a comforting hug

“Lets do it” Y/N says after Padi released her from the hug

“YES OMG YES” Chris jumps up dancing around like a child, and to this everyone laughed at his excitement

“Well how do we do this? How do we kill me without causing me pain” Y/N said cringing a little bit at this absurd situation

“I mean you could drown, or take too much medicine, suffocate” Padi said all nonchalant

“Jesus, Padi that’s intense” Nick said very shocked

“So either get killed or kill myself” Y/N said very perplexed, and to this Padi nodded with an apologetic look on her face

“But you’ll have to do while still in the body, and as your life is fading away you have to leave the body, and wait till the physical body is dead before you take over the body, this allows time for the old soul to leave, and that’s when you have to get in the body. But you have to time it right or both souls will be dead and you’ll be left with a physical dead body which will not be good for you guys” Padi said looking over at the boys. Their expressions changed, and they started to look worried and stressed

“GUYS! This will work. I will get back to my body!” Y/N said giving them a reassuring smile

“Although you could technically kill yourself I recommend that you be killed so one of them has complete control over the situation” Padi said and everyone nodded to this

“Alright, who wants to kill me?” Y/N asks getting up from her chair all excited

“The fact that you’re excited is very concerning to me. We don’t want to do this” Chris said rubbing his eyes

“Don’t be a pussy Chris” Y/N said laughing at him, Chris lifts his head up and points at Y/N “this bullying I don’t miss” he said laughing a little bit

“Are we doing this now?” Matt asks looking over at Y/N. She nods and gives him a weak smile

They all head upstairs to Matt’s room. Y/N lays down on the bed and gives them a reassuring smile

“This will work guys I promise you I’m coming back! I can not leave you guys” she said as puts her head down on the bed

“Okay so as the body is dying you need to leave the body, and wait for the body to die. As a spirit you will know when the body is dead, and then you need to enter the body, and CPR will have to be done and if you entered correctly you Y/N should be back in your correct body.” Padi said like it was the easiest thing ever

“Easier said than done” Nick says shaking his head and pacing around the room

“Calm down Nick! Alright, who's killing me?” Y/N said almost laughing at her words

To this question all the boys just froze now wanting to be responsible for the possible death of their best friend.

“Matt you should do it” Chris blurts out pushing Matt forward and backing away

“ME?!?! Are you fucking crazy kid?” Matt turns around looking at Chris

“Holy shit someone just kill me already I want to be back in my body” Y/N groans getting annoyed that we didn’t want to kill her

Matt nods his head and walks over to the bed. He grabs a pillow and looks down at Y/N with tears welling in his eyes

“I’m so fucking sorry if this doesn’t work out. I love you so much” Matt says, and with this Y/N nods her head and whispers" I love you back "before nodding at him to go on.

Matt lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and places the pillow over Y/N's face pushing down with as much weight as he could. It took a few seconds for her to start thrashing around. “FUCK IM SORRY IM SORRY” Matt yells while crying and continuing to put pressure on her thrashing body. Behind him stood a sad Padi, and Chris and Nick clinging onto each other crying a little bit as well. After 4 minutes of this agonizing torture to Matt. Y/N’s body stopped moving and she went completely limp. Matt removes the pillow and frantically looks at Padi

“WHAT DO I DO NOW” he says wide eyed, Padi runs over and checks Y/N’s pulse, realizing she doesn’t have one she has the boys help her get Y/N onto the floor so she can perform CPR

Padi immediately starts giving Y/N CPR and mouth to mouth. The boys are starting to worry that this crazy plan was actually a very stupid and reckless plan, and that y/n fate might be over.

Padi is pumping down on Y/N’s chest like she was a lifeless ragdoll, and to Matt that’s exactly what she looked like. Matt was starting to have a panic attack as he started to realize the love of his life may never come back.

Flash Back

Matt never really believed in love, and of course he loved his friends and family, and as him and his brothers grew famous on social media he began to love his fans. But real love? The love you see in movies, and read in books? Yeah that love had Matt laughing, and calling anyone who believed in love and soulmates an absolute fool.

He can't really remember when he started loving you, because he never believed in love. Oftentimes he was annoyed with how much of a hopeless romantic you were. Always looking for love, and to give love, but he found it pointless, and childish. He always tried to tell you to stop looking because it wasn't real, and no matter how many heartbreaks, nights of you being stood up or flat out rejected you never stopped loving. Although he was getting tired of having to pick up the broken pieces, and always being his shoulder to cry on, he would never say I told you so, and you always knew thats what he wanted to say. He admired the fact that even after all the heartbreak you still got up, and found the good in people, and would continue many more of these painful experiences.

He wasn't sure if he fell in love with you because you showed him how easy it is to love and be loved, or because you were always there wanting to be a part of his life, or maybe it was when he would be holding you after another asshole treated you terribly. And he would always tell himself “I would never hurt her shes all I ever wanted.” But he always told himself no because Matt Sturniolo doesn’t fall in love.

Flashback over

But why is it now as he watches your body slip away, hes feeling the weight of 1,000 pounds on his chest constricting his airway. Why is it that right now he wants to shake you awake and tell you how much he has always loved you, but was too scared to accept that he himself, in all his flaws and imperfections, can too feel true love.

Matt slowly calms himself down as Padi is still performing CPR. It’s been two minutes, but in Matt's mind it felt like all of eternity.

Suddenly he hears Y/N jump up and take a sharp inhale as she comes to her senses,

“Y/N?” Matt says looking over at her

“It’s me Matt, it's me” she says giving me a smile

Matt runs over to her on the floor and scoops her up

“You showed me love! You showed me that no matter how imperfect I am I can still be loved. I'm such an idiot for not realizing it sooner. I have loved you since the day you drunkenly told me that any woman was lucky to have me, and that in another lifetime I was yours to keep.” Matt said looking into Y/N’s eyes. She blushed at this statement and looked down.

“Matt I have loved you since the day I saw your eyes shimmer a different hue when I broke things off with that one guy. That day I truly felt like we would be each other's everything one day, or nothing at all. I held onto that hope, and as each day went on I slowly started to believe this was all made up, and you were not mine to have.” Y/N said looking at Matt reading his face to see how he felt

“Y/N I love you, and I need you in my life forever and always whether it's in this lifetime or another. You will always be mine, and I feel horrible for only truly realizing this as you lay dying, and fighting to come back to your real body.” Matt said, grabbing Y/N’s face and looking her in the eyes.

“Matt you’re my everything, and I need you here with me for the rest of my life” she responded looking down at Matt’s lips

They both looked into each others eyes, and down to each other's lips, both leaning in, and sharing a kiss that could stop time, and cure every problem within themselves.

After pulling away they were interrupted by Chris

“That was the cutest shit I have ever seen now stop before you make me sick” he said as he wiped a tear from his eye and went over to hug Matt and Y/N, Nick walks over as well to join the group hug. “Yall are so fucking cute” he said also wiping his tears.

“ I suppose I’m no longer needed” Padi said with the biggest smile on her face, they broke the group hug and smiled at her thanking her.

“Padi I don’t know what I would have done without you, you literally saved me in all aspects” Y/N said giving her a hug

“Its what I do, but you need to take care of yourself, and make sure you allow yourself to properly heal. You just transferred from a soul back to a human” Padi said laughing a little bit.

“This is fucking insane, I still can’t believe this is real” Chris said acting mind blown

“This is probably the craziest unbelievable shit to have ever happened, and this stays between all of us” Nick said rubbing his eyes. We all agreed and let Padi pack up so she can head out.

Before she left she turned around to us

“The girl says thank you for setting her soul free. She’s able to go watch over her family before she completely moves on” Padi said, we all smiled at this, and allowed Padi to leave.

“Guys im so fucking happy to be back I missed you all, and I really missed Matt” Y/N said giving Matt a kiss on the cheek.

“Were so fucking happy to have you back! What do you say? movie night in my room??” Nick asked, all excited, and we agreed. Nick and Chris ran up the stairs then Matt, and the me, but before I could make it to the second step I felt a shiver down my spine and my neck hairs stand up.

This caused me to straighten up, and let go of Matt’s hand, this caused him to turn and look at me.

“Hey you okay?” He asked raising an eyebrow

“Yeah I'm good! Thought I felt something, but I think its just after shock of everything.” She responded back to the worried boy. He nodded his head, and they all went back to running up to Nick’s room.

The end.

Or was it……

Thank you sooo much for reading part 2. I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 3 I don’t want this story to drag on, so it depends maybe I will, or maybe you’ll end it how you want in your mind.

-J💅🏽

[bisexual-thoughtss]

Please could I request a Humphrey Bone x reader, where the reader is Alison’s younger sister who moves in and he starts to fall in love with her and it turns out she can touch ghosts as well as see them 💙💙

I sat forever trying to work out a way reader could see/touch ghosts and I think this turned out pretty cute when I finally figured that out. And it gave me an idea for another Humphrey fic, so I should be posting that one soon, too!

Humphrey Bone x Reader

Unbelievable. That was how you’d describe getting a phone call from your older sister that she’d inherited a manor in the country from some great-step-aunt neither of you even knew you had. When she’d told you they were going to keep it and fix it up and asked if you wanted to move in and help them, you jumped at the chance. You hated your crowded little flat anyway, so an opportunity to live in a big house in the country was a no-brainer.

You were getting everything in order, quitting your job, finalizing the end of your lease, packing up your things, when you got a call from Mike that Alison had had an accident but she was stable now. They wanted to keep her in the hospital a week for observation, and you still had some things to tie up, so you promised you’d be there about a week after she got home to give her some time to rest. Little did you know that that week was not particularly restful for her.

~

When you come up the drive of Button House, the sheer size of the manor is enough to take your breath away. The second thing that takes your breath away is the amount of ghosts staring at you from the window. You know Alison and Mike are here alone, and if that one’s arrow is any indication, they’re definitely ghosts up there.

A childhood near death experience had left you able to see ghosts. As a kid, everyone just figured you were talking to your imaginary friends, but as an adult it became much harder to explain why you were talking to nothing without looking crazy. You know no one would believe you, so you mostly just ignore them so you don’t get shipped off to an institution.

Knocking on the door, you hear lots of chatter inside before Alison whisper yells “shut up!”.

“Hi!” She greets cheerily when she opens the door, pulling you into a hug.

“Are you okay? Mike didn’t tell me much,” you glare at Mike playfully over her shoulder, before taking her by the arms and giving her a once over. The group of ghosts behind her are all talking over each other about you, which you studiously try to ignore.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just a bump on the head,” she laughs, shutting the door behind you. She takes you on a little tour around the manor, the ghosts following close behind. You barely hold in your gasp when a headless ghosts appears around one corner. That one is going to be hard to get used to.

Alison shows you to one of the least run down bedrooms for you to stay in, the ghosts staying behind when Alison leaves.

“Oh good, another harlot exposing her knees,” the Edwardian lady grumbles.

“She seems lovely,” the Georgian lady gushes sweetly.

“She’s pretty, but not as lovely as my beloved Alison,” the Regency man enthuses. This one makes your eyebrows raise as you continue unpacking your first suitcase you’d brought up.

“Yes, she is something. I’d like to-“ the ghost with no pants starts.

“Hey!” You cut him off, certain you don’t want to hear whatever it is he was going to say. All the ghosts gasp in surprise, the Regency man jumps about a foot in the air and you can’t help your laugh. Overlapping cries of “she can see us, too!?” echo in the room before you shush them.

“Yes, I can see you,” you grumble, “wait what do you mean ‘too’?”

“We must go tell Alison!” The Georgian lady gasps, rushing down the hall.

“Wait! What?” You call after her but the other ghosts are already following her. You rush after them, peeking around the doorframe and into the kitchen. They’re all talking animatedly to Alison and your jaw drops. Mike is sitting at the table, ignoring the whole thing.

“You can see them too!” You cheer, coming fully into the kitchen. Alison jumps at your sudden appearance.

“I- um, what-“ she stutters out before you stop her.

“Tell me you can see them, too?” You beg.

“What do you mean see them too? You can see them?” She demands and you nod sheepishly.

“Ever since I had that fall as a kid, when I was in the hospital? I’ve been able to see them. I didn’t tell anyone cause I knew they’d think I was mad,” you explain.

“I wouldn’t have!” She exclaims and you shoot her a look.

“Alright I would’ve, but oh my god. Finally someone else can see them,” her sigh turns into laughter, “and finally someone else can deal with them too.”

“Seriously?! Everyone can see them but me!?” Mike groans, and you and Alison dissolve into giggles.

~

You settle into Button House swimmingly, all the ghosts immediately taking a shine to you. You always try to answer their questions and deal with their requests so Alison can focus on the house. Robin likes to jump scare both of you now, Kitty is just fine being best friends with the both of you, and Fanny directs her fussing at both of you.

The one ghost you can’t quite get past is the headless one, you’ve never seen anything like it. That is, until one fateful afternoon.

“Oh you’re quite pretty,” a lilting voice speaks as you walk into the sitting room. You shriek in dismay at the sight of a head sitting on the table before you realize it’s a ghost. You know right away that it must go with the body that you’ve seen walking around aimlessly.

“I’m so sorry, you just gave me quite a fright,” you tell him, moving closer to him. He’s really quite handsome, you realize.

“Oh, s’alright. Used to it really, who are you? You can see me?” He asks with a furrowed brow.

“Oh! I’m Alison’s sister,” you smile.

“Huh. Seems I’ve missed quite a bit,” he chuckles. You sit down at the table, filling him in on what he’s missed. You can’t believe you’ve been here for weeks and only just been introduced to him.

“Don’t any of the other ghosts ever help you put your head back?” You ask suddenly, annoyed on his behalf.

“Sometimes, but it tends to just fall off again so they usually don’t bother,” he tells you and you huff.

“Rude, I’d help you if I could,” you huff and he laughs.

After this, you spend quite a lot of time talking with Humphrey whenever you find him somewhere about the house. He tells you about his life and what it was like back then, regaling you with stories that make you laugh until you cry.

Humphrey, for his part, is ecstatic someone actually wants to spend time with him. He hadn’t known you could hear him, but he did mean it when he said you were pretty. He cursed the fact that when he’d finally found someone of interest, you couldn’t interact with him but to talk. He supposed this was better than nothing, although he longed to touch you. But he wouldn’t dwell on it too long, he certainly didn’t want to end up acting like Thomas, the old sop. Besides, he found enough happiness in talking to you that he almost forgets about the longing most days. The ghosts don’t seem to mind leaving him behind when something happens, but you always make sure to catch him up in what’s been happening later when you find him.

~

One day you’ve finally had enough when you find Thomas on the lawn kicking around Humphrey’s head.

“Honestly, what’s wrong with you lot?” You implore, snatching Humphrey’s head from him and walking back towards the house. You make it about half way across the lawn before you gasp, holding up Humphrey to look him in the eyes.

“You can touch me?” He asks at the same time you exclaim, “I can touch you?!”

You turn to find Thomas gaping at you from across the grass, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

“Oh my god, I can touch you,” you say, full of wonder as you hold him gently.

Thomas runs up to you with his hand held out and you shift to hold Humphrey in the crook of one arm, your hand under his chin. You take Thomas’ hand, both of you gasping and pulling away in alarm when his hand fits solidly in yours instead of going through it. Thomas takes off towards the house and you follow at a much slower pace behind him.

“This is certainly a new development,” Humphrey says, and you jump, almost forgetting you were holding him.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” you laugh shakily.

Once you enter the house, you find the ghosts are crowded around Alison and Thomas, chattering wildly at the news, no doubt.

“So you can touch them!” Alison gasps as you walk in still carrying Humphrey.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” you tell her, “I’m just as surprised as you.”

“Wonder why I can’t do that?” She frowns.

“Perhaps it’s because your accident happened as a child?” Fanny inquires.

“Ah, yes childrens can sometimes sees us,” Mary chimes in.

“So perhaps having been at that age and already able to see ghosts, you were taken one step further,” the Captain contemplates.

“Yeah, I- I guess so,” you agree, “has anyone seen Humphrey’s body lately?”

They tell you where they last saw him and you wonder off that direction.

“You really don’t have to go to this trouble,” Humphrey huffs from your arms.

“Well now that I know I can actually help you, I’m not just going to leave you places,” you tell him and you can feel his smile curve against your arm.

“Aha!” You shout victoriously when you round a corner and nearly run right into his body. It bumps into you and toddles off in the other direction before you can catch it.

“No! Ugh, why are you so fast,” you groan as you follow behind, Humphrey laughing from his place in your arms. You catch up, grabbing his puffy sleeve and pinning him between you and the wall so you can get his head on properly without him walking off. You set his head gently on his shoulders, your hands on his cheeks to hold him steady. Once he’s settled, you realize all at once that you’re pressed against him from chest to knees and a dark blush settles across your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you mumble, moving to pull away when his hands grab your wrists to stop you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and you know he means for more than just putting his head back. One of his hands slides up to cradle yours against his face, the other moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear before threading his fingers softly into the hair at the nape of your neck.

“Sure,” you breathe quietly, not wanting to break the fragile atmosphere that’s settled around the two of you. He pulls you in gently with the hand on your neck, giving you ample time to pull away if you want. You don’t, letting him pull you close and press your lips together sweetly. You laugh as his moustache tickles you, both of you smiling too much to kiss properly.

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 24

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: As the group starts to make a new home of the prison, someone sabotages their plans, leading to unfortunate losses. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; canon character death; killing walkers; ethical discussions; murder

Chapter 24 - Where Else

“Okay, let’s get the other car in. We’ll park ‘em at the West entry of the yard.” Rick instructed as they drove the vehicles in from the road. Iris backed the truck up on the side of the gate, careful not to drive over any walker’s they’d left on the ground.

“Good. Our vehicles out there look like a giant ‘vacancy’ sign.” Daryl remarked.

“After that, we need to load up these corpses so we can burn ‘em.” 

“Gonna be a long day.” T-Dog grumbled.

“Where’s Glenn and Maggie? We could use some help.” Carol stated. Iris walked over, rolling her neck. Those prison mattresses were terrible. She’d rather sleep on the ground.

“Up in the guard tower.” Daryl replied.

“Guard tower?” Rick asked, putting his hands on his hips. “They were just up there last night.”

“Glenn! Maggie!” Daryl yelled across the field. Iris could see their silhouettes as the two of them stood up, and Glenn shouldered the door to the balcony open, shirtless, still buttoning up his pants.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” He called back. Iris whistled loudly, earning a hearty laugh from Rick and T-Dog.

“You coming?” Daryl asked impatiently.

“What?” Glenn asked. The rest of them burst out laughing, grinning to themselves. Carol had to cover her mouth as she smiled.

“You coming?” Daryl asked again, smirking. “C’mon, we could use a hand.”

“Yeah, we’ll be right down.” Glenn replied. Iris shook her head, turning around as they walked back to the gate.

“Hey, Rick.” T-Dog called, stopping them in their tracks. Smiles faded as they turned, seeing Axel and Oscar walking across the courtyard toward the field. Rick started storming toward them, Daryl and Iris following quickly.

“That’s close enough.” Rick hissed as they stopped about six feet away. “We had an agreement.”

“Please, mister. We know that.” Axel replied quietly. Glenn and Maggie came out from the guard tower behind them. “We made a deal. But you gotta understand… we can’t live in that place another minute, you follow me? All the bodies— people we knew. Blood, brains everywhere. There’s ghosts.”

“Why don’t you move the bodies out?” Daryl asked.

“You should be burning them.” T-Dog stated.

“We tried. We did.”

“The fence is down on the far side of the prison.” Oscar explained. “Every time we drag a body out, those things just line up. We’ve been just dropping a body and running back inside.”

“Look, we had nothing to do with Tomas and Andrew. Nothing. You trying to prove a point, you proved it, bro.” Axel assured. “We’ll do whatever it takes to be part of your group, just please, please… don’t make us live in that place.”

“Our deal is not negotiable.” Rick said sternly. Iris pursed her lips. “You either live in your cell block or you leave.”

“I told you this was a waste of time.” Oscar muttered. “They ain’t no different than the pricks who shot up our boys. You know how many friends corpses we had to drag out this week? Just threw ‘em out, like. These were good guys. Good guys who had our backs against the really bad dudes in the joint, like Tomas and Andrew. Now we’ve all made mistakes to get in here, chief. And I’m not gonna pretend to be a saint, but believe me. We’ve paid our due— enough that we would rather hit that road than go back into that shit-hole.”

Rick turned to get one glance from Daryl, who shook his head. They decided to lock Axel and Oscar up in between the front gates. Axel muttered small complaints, but they were safe at least. T-Dog argued for them to join in.

“Are you serious? You want them living in a cell next to you?” Rick asked. “They’ll just be waiting for a chance to grab our weapons. You wanna go back to sleeping with one eye open?”

“I never stopped.” T-Dog replied. “Bring them into the fold. If we send them off packing, we might as well execute them ourselves.”

“I don’t know. Axel seems a little unstable.” Glenn pointed out.

“More-so than the rest of us? He already said, he was in for drugs, which we don’t have, and Oscar broke in to some place. They’re not killers.” Iris argued.

“After all we’ve been through?” Carol asked. “We fought so hard for all of this, what if they decide to take it?”

“It’s two against eleven.” Iris replied. “And I still cuddle my knives like teddy bears.”

“It’s just been us for so long.” Maggie murmured. “They’re strangers, I don’t— It feels weird all of a sudden to have these other people around.”

“You brought us in.” T-Dog pointed out.

“Yeah, but you turned up with a shot boy in your arms. Didn’t give us a choice.” Maggie replied.

“They can’t even kill walkers.” Glenn replied.

“They did. Sort of.” Iris chuckled.

“They’re convicts, bottom line.” Carol frowned.

“Those two might actually have less blood on their hands than we do.” T-Dog countered.

“I get guys like this. Hell, I grew up with them.” Daryl said. “They’re degenerates, but they ain’t psychos. I could have been in there with them just as easy as I’m out here with you guys.”

“So you’re with me?” T-Dog asked.

“Hell, no. Let them take their chances out on the road, just like we did.”

“What I’m saying, Daryl—“

“When I was a rookie, I arrested this kid.” Rick started. Iris bit down on her tongue, looking out at the forest. “Nineteen years old, wanted for stabbing his girlfriend. The kid blubbered like a baby during the interrogation, during the trial— suckered the jury. He was acquitted due to insufficient evidence and then two weeks later, shot another girl. We’ve been through too much. Our deal with them stands.”

Rick and Daryl turned back to go speak with Axel and Oscar. T-Dog looked frustrated, but he was definitely outvoted. Plus, Rick had a point. They didn’t know them. Axel was a coward, but sometimes cowards did the most damage in situations like the ones they found themselves in all the time. Iris had often considered herself lucky she never wound up in prison as a youth. A few overnighters in a holding cell, but never anything crazy. But she knew people like the boy Rick described. And unfortunately, he was right. They’d lost so much already, the stakes were high.

-

They spent the rest of the afternoon piling the bodies up all together. They were sweaty and tired, but it was done.

“Move the cars to the upper yard. Point ‘em facing out. They’ll be out of the way but ready to go if we ever need to bail.” Rick explained, tossing the gate keys to Glenn. “We’ll give the prisoners a week’s worth of supplies for the road.”

“They might not last a week.” T-Dog replied spitefully.

“It’s their choice.” Rick replied.

“Did they really have one?”

Iris left them to talk it out as she followed Daryl to the gates. Maggie got into the SUV while Daryl got onto his bike, ready to pull up to the courtyard.

“Twin cylinder, is that a Triumph?” Axel asked Daryl, observing the bike.

“Don’t even look at it.” Daryl grumbled.

“Didn’t want it bored out?” Axel asked. Daryl ignored him, starting the bike. “Sounds like it could use a tune up. I’m pretty handy with a wrench. Heads are leaking. I know my bikes!” Iris chuckled as Daryl pulled away, leaving Axel to himself.

“Man, will you just stop? Have some balls.” Oscar scoffed.

“Just sayin’.” Axel muttered as Glenn closed the gate behind them.

-

A few hours later, Iris passed Axel a box of supplies as Daryl, Rick and Glenn went through the fence to scope out the hole Oscar had mentioned.

“I’ll cut you loose as soon as they get back.” Iris said quietly, clicking the lock shut.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Axel replied. Iris cringed.

“Don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old.” She replied. Axel chuckled lightly. “Sit tight.” She sat down on the gravel in the dog run, watching the hole in the fence as the others climbed through, weaving the wire back through the links.

“So what’d you do before this?” Axel asked. Oscar muttered for him to keep his mouth shut.

“I was a mechanic. Mostly bikes, cars.” She replied quietly. “Hence the matching outfits.” Axel nodded. “You?”

“Gambling man.” He said, putting the box down. “Never had much in the way of a career. Though Oscar here was an electrical engineer.”

“Yeah, well…” Oscar grumbled.

“You think you could maybe put in a good word for us with your man? I know we—“

“We tried. If you can prove yourselves, maybe he’ll let you stay.” Iris murmured, frowning as she watched them walk the perimeter.

“How are we supposed to do that?” Oscar asked. Iris didn’t answer, instead turning back toward the prison. She smiled as she spotted Hershel taking a stroll with Beth, Lori and Carl in the courtyard. 

“Alright, Hershel!” Glenn called. Iris’ smile fell when she spotted the walkers come out of the courtyard behind them.

“Walkers!” She yelled, scrambling to her feet. Rick, Glenn and Daryl were running to the hole in the fence. Iris scrambled to unlock the gate in the dog run, sprinting past Axel and Oscar toward the other gate.

“Walkers, look out!” Carl called. Lori, Carl, Maggie and T-Dog started shooting, but that didn’t stop the swarm from growing. Hershel hobbled out of the way on his crutches, but he was slow. Beth screeched in fear from beside them as they moved around away from them. Iris threw the gate open, sprinting across the field and unsheathing her knives. She didn’t bother opening the gate to the yard, climbing over the fence and hopping down. She pulled her gun and started firing, bore walkers coming as fast as they shot them down.

“That gate is open!” T-Dog yelled, gesturing to further inside the courtyard where they had locked off all the walkers before. Iris grimaced. Maggie herded Lori and Carl inside, Carol and Iris backing up T-Dog as he ran for the gate. He shoved a few out of the way, pulling it shut.

“T!” Iris yelled, running over, but it was too late, and the walker was too close. He screamed as it’s teeth sunk into his shoulder, ripping out flesh with reckless abandon. Iris put a bullet in it’s brain as Carol screamed.

“Here!” She called, shoving open a door on the other side of the catwalk. She pulled T-Dog inside and slammed the door behind them. Iris was somewhat surrounded and she grimaced, making a break for the chain link cage Beth and Hershel had locked themselves in. They watched as she climbed the fence, perching on top of it while the walkers pooled around them. She unloaded her clip but there were still more.

Daryl, Rick and Glenn finally made it to the courtyard, pulling the gate open and unloading their own guns into the walkers surrounding them. Glenn used his machete to cut through to the gate while Daryl unleashed his crossbow on the walker’s surrounding Iris, Beth and Hershel.

“What the hell happened?” Rick yelled.

“The gate was open!” Iris replied, jumping down from the roof of the doorway after they’d removed the walkers surrounding her. “Lori, Carl and Maggie went through to the cell block. T-Dog and Carol went through there, but T got bit!”

“Anyone else?”

“No.”

“Stay put!” Rick yelled to Beth and Hershel while they continued clearing the courtyard.

“You alright?” Daryl asked. Iris nodded. She was fine, albeit shaky and nervous. 

“Those chains didn’t break on their own.” Glenn said after slicing the top of a walker’s head off. “Someone took an axe or cutters to ‘em.” Rick turned around, staring daggers through Axel and Oscar, who stood warily at the edge of the gate. “You think they did it?”

“Who else?” Rick growled. Iris nearly jumped out of her skin as a loud alarm blared out across the compound.

“What’s that?” Glenn asked, alarmed.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me!” Daryl yelled, exasperated. The noise was drawing walkers in from everywhere, and they started to gather along the outer fences. 

“Kill it!” Rick yelled. They pulled out their guns, aiming for the loudspeakers. He wheeled around, pointing his gun in Oscar’s face. “How the hell can this be happening?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, it has to be the backup generators.” He insisted, putting his hands up.

“How do you turn those on?”

“There’s three that’s connected to a diesel tank, okay?” Oscar explained frantically. “Each one controls a certain part of the prison. The hacks shut them all off when the prison was overrun.”

“Can someone open the main gates electronically, with full power?” Rick asked.

“I only worked in there a few days. I guess it might be possible.” Oscar shrugged.

“Okay, come with us!” Rick yelled, grabbing him by the shirt and hauling him along. They burst through into the cell block, but there was no one there. A few walkers, but that was it. “Lori! Carl!”

“Maggie must have taken them further in.” Iris said, out of breath as she kicked her mattress that had been knocked askew.

“We just took down five of them in there.” Daryl called, running in from the other room.

“Four in here, but no sign of anyone.” Iris replied.

“They must have been pushed back into the prison.” Glenn breathed. 

“Somebody is playing games!” Rick yelled in frustration. “We’ll split up and look for the others. Whoever gets to the generator first, shut them down!” They split up, Iris following Daryl, Rick and Oscar as they jogged through the corridors.

Oscar led them to the generators and they burst through the door, narrowly escaping a few hungry, snapping jaws. 

“Daryl, get the door!” Rick yelled. Daryl and Oscar threw themselves against the door, holding it shut as the walkers pointed against it. Rick ran for the generator. “How do you shut these down?!”

“Go, I got it.” Iris traded places with Oscar, and though he was much larger than her, some help was better than none. She and Daryl pressed themselves against the door, boots skidding against the ground. Iris heard her heard pounding in her ears before the scream. Andrew yelled as he popped out from the corner, slamming his baseball bat into the electrical panel, aiming for Rick. They wrestled, Rick attempting to disarm him as they slammed into various panels. Daryl let out a cry of effort as they strained against the door. Iris slid to the ground, scrambling up against it with a grunt.

“We gotta let go.” He grunted. Iris nodded and they moved in tandem away from the door, grabbing their weapons. They killed the first few that were slamming against the door before Daryl shoved it closed once again. Oscar tossed one of the metal panels at Andrew, shoving him off of Rick before picking up Rick’s gun.

“Shoot him! We can take back this prison!” Andrew pleaded as they both stood on shaky legs. Rick held out his hand. Oscar panted. “What are you waiting for? It’s our house! Shoot him!” Oscar pulled the trigger, and Andrew’s body hit the ground. He handed the gun back to Rick and Iris keeled over, hands on her thighs as she panted. Rick shut the generator down, the alarms stopping, finally. 

They made their way down the hallways, searching for the others. There was a scuffle somewhere down, but when they rounded the corner, they found Glenn and Axel. They all moved together down the hallways, finding two walkers standing over a body. Rick shot them both, but Iris held a hand to her mouth in shock.

“T…” She whispered. He was flayed open, barely a corpse as his innards littered the ground. They all paused for a moment and Daryl belt down to lift Carol’s scarf from the floor. She was nowhere to be seen, but they had no idea. They followed the halls all the way through to the door T-Dog and Carol had escaped through, Hershel and Beth waiting on the stairs.

“Hershel!” Glenn called.

“You didn’t find them?” He asked.

“We thought maybe they came back out here.” They both shook their heads.

“What about T? Carol?” 

“They didn’t make it.” Daryl replied.

“That doesn’t mean the others didn’t. We’re going back.” Rick said lowly. “Daryl and Glenn, you come with—“ Rick stopped as the sound of an infant crying carried over the courtyard. They all turned to see Maggie stumble down the stairs, a small bundle of Carl’s coat in her blood-soaked arms. Carl followed blankly, his face dark and his eyes empty. His own hands were covered in blood and Iris held in a gasp.

Rick dropped his axe as he faced Maggie, shaking his head. She was crying, clutching the baby close. Rick shook his head again, his lip quivering. He blinked, staggering back and forth as he walked closer.

“Where— where is she? Where is she?” He asked. When Maggie didn’t answer, he made for the door.

“No, Rick no!” She cried, pulling him back. Rick sobbed, clutching his hands to his face as he stared up at the prison. Carl stood next to him, motionless.

“Oh, no. No!” Rick cried. Glenn walker over, pulling Maggie to his chest as she cried, resting her head on his shoulder. Iris sheathed her knives, running a hand through her hair as tears lined her eyes. 

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

[cap-winter-barnes]

Ghosted (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death & violence. Also some swearing.

You’ve been on missions before but nothing like this. It was an ambush. A trap. The second you all stepped out of the helicarrier, you were met with gunfire from every direction. You were outnumbered, massively so, even despite the abilities of the team. Steve and Tony were struggling to hold off the larger guns, their shields providing only enough protection to keep them in the air or on their feet. Wanda was trying her best to protect everyone with her powers, but with the amount of people she was trying to shield, her abilities were being tested.

Bucky was by your side, always one step ahead of you, quite literally. You’ve been close ever since he returned from Wakanda and became a part of the team. He took to you quickly, almost like you were friends before, yet you had never met. You just understood each other, related to each other. Bucky was determined to be the best he could be, for you. Steve didn’t seem as concerned about him anymore, spending more time with Sharon, or moping around thinking about Peggy. Bucky was a distant thought in the back of his mind now. Yet to you, Bucky is everything. The first thought in the morning and your last thought as you fall asleep. Both of you spend any waking moment you can together, whether that be catching Bucky up on the years that have passed during his captivity or simply reading a book in each others company.

His aim is as perfect as ever, yet as you fight hand to hand with the men and women trying to pick the team off one by one, you have a feeling of foreboding. A horrible feeling in your gut that something is about to go horribly wrong. Your abilities have been unreliable over the last few months, you have no reason as to why, yet your intermittent visions that show you the near future have been inaccurate or completely absurd. But flickering in your mind is the image of blood coating your hands, the ground. Your team are gone, nowhere to be seen and silence follows. You continue fighting as you try to ignore this inconvenient imagery in your head. You can hear voices, imaginary voices, bouncing around your skull, threatening and growing in volume. They’re threatening you, Steve, Tony but your biggest concern is that they are threatening Bucky. Threatening to set him back to the Winter Soldier, threatening his death and a whole other world of pain if you don’t provide them with government secrets. Secrets you aren’t even privy to.

Suddenly as is hearing a secret order, the bullets stop firing and your enemies retreat. There is only silence, and you all stop in your tracks. Tony removes his helmet, looking as confused as everyone else.

“What the hell is going on?” Steve stands breathless next to him, shaking his head at the sudden disappearance of your enemies.

“I don’t understa-“

“Ah, The Avengers. What an honour!”! An echoing voice resounds around the desolate land in which you stand. “I can finally say I have stood in the presence of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.” A deep chuckle follows, sending shivers down your spine, the hair on the nape of your neck standing on end. Bucky senses your unease and moves closer to your side, his fingers intertwining with yours.

“And who do we have the honour of meeting, oh great one.” Even in a moment like this, Tony can’t help but great their enemies with a hint of sarcasm and patronising tone.

“Who I am, is not important, Stark. What is important is what I am.”

“Which is? It’s sort of difficult to tell when we can’t see what you look like.” Again, this man has no regard for the situation. Bucky tightens his grip on your hand. He mentally sends you a message, something you’ve been working on for months and something only you two are capable of doing.

‘It’s going to be alright, we’ve got this doll.’ You glance sideways at him with a tight lipped smile.

“Have you Sergeant Barnes? Will it be alright?” A sick feeling settles in your stomach. How? How could this being hear that? An unspoken sentiment between you both, how was it intercepted? “Ah, your little doll can’t grasp my powers.” The dark chuckle that accompanies their words causing your body to involuntarily shake as you try to block out your thoughts. “If you’re so sure of your talents, Sergeant. Prove your worth.”

Bucky flinches as his super-soldier hearing picks up something in the distance. But his hearing isn’t quick enough. Before he has even raised his gun, his body is knocked backwards with force. Pain shoots through your body as he is ripped from your grasp. Everything moves in slow motion as you turn to help him as the rest of the team circle you, providing cover. As you turn to Bucky, the blood freezes in your body.

“James?” Your voice is quiet, broken as you take in the sight of his body. “JAMES!” You fall to the ground next to him, hands moving to his neck to feel for a pulse. His bullet-proof vest is badly damaged, blood seeping through his suit into the ground below. His metal arm is spattered with his own blood, wires and connectors visible as the outer covering has torn away. What power could this being possibly possess that could tear through Vibranium like this? “James, please.” Your fingers press into his pulse point, yet you feel nothing. “JAMES!” Nothing. His pulse is still, his chest unmoving. You grab at his flesh arm, fingers pressing into his inner wrist. Nothing.

“Tony. Tony we need medical aid. TONY, PLEASE!”

“Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, we will meet again.” There is an ear-splitting boom, that leaves everyone temporarily dazed. Yet when they recover, they stumble haphazardly to your aid.

“Y/N you’re bleeding.” Wanda points out that your arm is badly cut, a result of the shot that missed you by mere inches.

“I don’t care about me. Just help him please.” There are tears falling down your cheeks, leaving tracks through the dirt that covers your face. “Please, I can’t lose him.”

Steve grabs you as Tony moves in to provide medical care to the best of his ability. The helicarrier returning to evacuate you all and take you home. But what is home without Bucky? “Steve, let me go.” You try desperately to keep ahold of Bucky’s hand. “Steve let me go. Let me stay with him. He promised, he promised everything would be alright.”

Every other sound and voice around you fades to white noise as Steve drags you further away, lifting you over his shoulder as he carries you into the helicarrier. “JAMES!!” You are hysterical as his body is moved onto the floor of the helicarrier as the team work hard to save him. “I can’t lose you, please.” This last sentence is spoken so quietly, yet Wanda hears you. A sadness creeps into the team as everyone sits silently, Bucky laying motionless and still on the floor. Exhaustion over takes you, the bloodloss from your arm creeping up as you suddenly lose consciousness, your body falling into Steve.

** Two Days Later **

The incessantly sound of beeping immediately causing you discomfort as you awake, followed by the bright white of a hospital grade room. “Wha-“

“Oh good, you’re finally awake. Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Tony what the fuck?” He chuckles as he checks your stats on the machine you’re hooked up to.

“You gave us quite a scare there, pumpkin. Real good scare.” As you mind flashes to your last waking moments, the heart monitor next to you begins to go haywire. “Hey, hey, hey. Prince Charming’s okay. He’s alive.”

Your freeze, staring at Tony with hopeful, pleading eyes. “Wha- How?”

“He’s a lucky bastard, that’s the only explanation I have. Clinically he was dead. Yet he lives. Whatever is in the super serum they gave him, he’s indestructible. Apparently. Don’t think you’d let me put that up to the test though.”

“Absolutely not. Can I- Can I see him?”

“Sure buttercup, but I’ll be wheeling you down there, not risking you fainting on us again.”

Tony wheels you down to Bucky’s room in a wheelchair, which if this is the only way you can see him quicker, you’ll accept it. As you enter his room, Bucky perks up at the sound of the door sliding open.

“Doll?” Bucky lurches forwards trying to remove himself from his bed.

“Ah, down soldier. You’re on bed rest for the foreseeable.” Tony scolds him and yet for a rare occurrence, Bucky lies back in the hospital bed. A soft sigh leaving his lips as he takes in your appearance.

“Don’t ever do that to me again Barnes, I thought you were dead.” Tears well in your eyes as you take in the sight of him without his metal arm attached, upper body wrapped in bandages, a nasty new section of scar tissue visible up his neck. “Wh-“

“Yeah, whatever this guy used, it stops the super healing process. Barnes here has some healing to do for the first time in a while.”

“Doll, I’ll be alright. Some bed rest might do me some good for once.” You can’t believe he’s making jokes so soon after practically dying but you’re just happy to see him smiling and alive for that matter.

[kalevalakryze]

Firebird

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Ahsoka (TV) Pairings: Shin Hati/ Sabine Wren Characters: Sabine Wren, Shin Hati, Ahsoka Tano, Ezra Bridger, Hera Syndulla, Ghost Crew 2.0,  Warnings: Major Character Injury, Near Death Experiences, Explosions Notes: For Whumptober Day  16 and @sabineweek Day 2 Prompts: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” | Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.” + Icarus Word Count: 3,571 AO3 Link: Here!

“Sabine, they’ve got TIE’s taking off.” Ezra’s voice rushed over comms, voice strained from exertion from whatever fight he’d gotten himself into.

“Copy that, do we have eyes on which shuttle is carrying the Lieutenant?” The Mandalorian dropped her rangefinder and rose her eyes to the sky, boot pressed firmly against an incapacitated trooper’s throat where she’d engaged on the rooftops. 

“It will be the one with a burn across the third quadrant of its left wing.” Shin followed, and while her voice was much calmer than Ezra’s, Sabine could feel the strain of her altercation across their bond in the force, feel the ebb and flow of the force where Shin used its power to keep plastoid covered troopers off of their closing position, flowing so freely beside Ezra’s that despite the odds being against them, they moved like a finely oiled machine. 

“On it,” Sabine cast her fuel gauge a wary look, there was just enough in her tanks that she might be fine, and from the screaming of a TIE fighter arcing through the air, she knew there was no time to top off at the Ghost. A TIE swirled overhead, left wing sparking and burning from a lightsaber having cut through it on takeoff. 

“Kark it,” Sabine grumbled, tapping at her gauge with a shake of her head. “We ball.” The woman took to the sky smoothly, jet fuel sparking into a high flame as she dumped more to keep up with the fighter.

The Ghost soared through the sky, streaking past Sabine and offering her a chance to grab on to Chopper’s head to save some fuel as fire was concentrated against the shields and engines to slow down the surviving Imperial’s ascent. 

Before the Ghost could pull away, Sabine was throwing herself from the ship’s hull, fingers brushing out as her jetpack sputtered, wrapping around one of the handles poking out past the hull to yank her weight against it, boots scrambling to push against the durasteel, hooking into the space in between ports to keep herself steady.

“Sabine, you need to hurry!” Hera called, exasperated as she pitched the ghost to the side, rolling out of the way just a hair away from the path of plasma as the TIE opened fire. 

“Work in progress, Hera!” Sabine shouted into her comms, hooking her fingers into the latch of the tie to stabilize before she could dig through a pouch on her belt, revealing her stack of the newest mixture of thermal detonators and the dye packs attached to the explosives. “Hello, beautifuls.” She breathed, fingers ghosting over the neatly stacked explosives. 

Piling them into a fistful, Sabine started planting them each, using the force to sail them across to the inside supports of the fighter’s wings, lining the hatch with enough to blow the top and settling the last couple against the engines, just in case somehow, the hull would survive. 

They rose closer to the upper atmosphere, Sabine’s helmet automatically clicking itself shut and releasing pressure to adjust. “Hey guy, I don’t have freefloating in space on my bucket list for the year,” She grumbled, making quick work of getting her charges set. 

“Sabine!” Several panicked voices hollered her names, staticy over comms the further she got out of range. The Mandalorian’s head shot to the side in time to watch an X-Wing swing in for a strafing run, she didn’t know the pilot, and wasn’t linked into their comms, but she could hear Hera on their open channel, ripping in to the pilot to get them to stop. 

It was too late, however, plasma scorched through the air, singing the air with a heavy smell of ozone. Sabine watched the blue lasers arc towards her before the Ghost could sweep in to incapacitate the fighter. Her legs moved too slow when she pushed off the hull, body turning as she fired up her jetpack, propelling herself away from the fighter half a second before the lasers struck the TIE and ignited her charges. 

Sabine’s head turned in time to watch the colorful, fiery explosion behind her; at least it looked as cool as she figured it would, she’d have to make sure she saved the clip in her helmet to watch later. 

Her jetpack sputtered mid flight, dropping her right into the path of the first shockwave. She didn’t have much chance to see the TIE go down, when paint speckled across her visor and then she was sent into a freefall, the resounding shockwaves hitting her like brick walls with a personal agenda against her existence. 

She was floating in a limbo of dizzy and peaceful, limbs too heavy to move, and her eyelids felt glued shut with weight pressing into her eye sockets to keep her from opening them.

There was a bustle of activity floating into her ears, fading like her grip on the world around her. She wanted to snap at all the people moving around her. Couldn’t they tell she was trying to sleep? A loud, persistent beeping ground away at her nerves, but she was useless in willing her body to shut off whatever alarm was going off.

The beeping grew higher in pitch, there were no breaks in the thudding tone it had carried before. At least the movement in the room seemed to cease, a pin could drop in the silence and bated breath of every body in the room.

Finally, some peace and quiet. Now she could get some sleep.

“Sabine.” There was a distortion in the voice that called out to her, warbling through the very core of her being, through the will of the force. Shin’s voice rang in the notes of their bond, scratchy and deep, but the other voice, the notes she could pick out, a tone she’d only heard in her dreams, a voice and a face she was terrified of forgetting, that had been harder and harder to pick out every day.

She wanted to snap her eyes open, to fly out of bed and run into her buir’s arms, to do something but the stones inside of her skin wouldn’t give her a chance to budge. 

“Don’t go where I can’t follow, me’suum’ika.” Shin’s voice sounded strained, and too far away, like their bond was growing stagnant in Sabine’s indecision. Fingers wrapped around her hand, warm where they sparked against the unbeaten pulse point against her wrist. “You promised,” Their voice wavered with emotion that they fought to keep concealed, Sabine hadn’t heard that tone since they’d gotten her back from the Bandits. 

Promises meant more to Shin than even their connection to the force, Sabine knew that better than anyone, and well… She intended to keep her word. Clan Wren would still be waiting for her, at the end; The Manda would not go anywhere, the cosmic force would still connect all beings, but if she walked out on Shin now… What kind of Mandalorian would she be? Surely not one who deserved to join her people in the afterlife they’d all strived for.

Sabine stopped struggling to see Ursa, there was no where she could go where her mother would not be able to reach, and if the unthinkable happened and she did somehow forget the timber of her voice or the sharpness of her face, she knew there were hundreds of others walking across the galaxy who would be more than happy to help her remember.

Shin’s hand started to slip from Sabine’s palm; She couldn’t move to reach out for them like she wanted, she didn’t want them to leave her either, didn’t want to see someone else give up on her. Someone was crying, voices were murmuring, she could hear the charge of shock paddles-

The first beep of the heart monitor was hard won, an exhaustive struggle that had the same reaction in the room as the flatline. Oxygen forced back into her lungs painfully, and warm fingers brushed against her pulse point once more, squeezing at her wrist to feel the next thud of her heart in her veins themselves. The tension in the room was cut with each thud and each successful breath, pain reigniting in her body in the feeling of broken bones and half sealed abrasions.

“Better,” She could hear the relief in Shin’s voice as their fingers interlocked with the limpness of her own, squeezing her hand even as the activity picked back up around them.

Ahsoka’s presence washed over her in their own bond, another string that she’d familiarized herself with, the calm soaring feeling that came with each interaction the Master and Apprentice shared through their woven destinies. 

“Prep her for the bacta tank,” A medic called out, unfamiliar voice ringing in her ears as cold gloved hands started touching her, though from the warmth seeping into her hand, she was able to rest easy knowing no one had moved Shin, at least until after the calm and quiet suggestion of sleep that had been passed through their bond, and the promise that she would wake up on the other side… eventually.

There was no way to gauge how much time had passed, but every now and then, Sabine would gain an awareness of the real world happening around her. Of Shin’s back pressed into the cool glass of her bacta tank, steadfast in their post as her protector. 

“Shin, she won’t wake up anytime soon,” Ahsoka’s voice floated through the void, in her mind’s eye, Sabine could make out the vision of Ahsoka stepping into the medbay, arms crossed over her chest and a carefully impassive look on her face; Ahsoka learned just as fast as Sabine had that Shin didn’t like sympathies, but she also knew that if Ahsoka’s distaste of Shin’s actions showed, the Gray Apprentice would close themselves off further and often turn to violence to defend their actions or beliefs. 

“You need to go take care of yourself,” Sabine could hear the lightness of the Togruta’s footsteps as she came to a stop in front of the tank, could feel piercing blue eyes on her suspended form, as if Ahsoka knew that Sabine had some awareness of the world around her. 

“I will not leave,” Shin was closed off to them visually, she could not find a way to bring some vision of the other woman to her eye, though she assumed, from the unease rolling off of Ahsoka and the concern in her tone, that her wolf wasn’t doing the best with her incapacitation. This must have been an argument the two force-sensitives found themselves in often, as Shin’s voice curbed on dangerous, the air Sabine could not feel filling with the tension of a hand curling around a saber hilt. 

“There is no reason to fight, Shin,” Ahsoka called, calling for calm across their own unstable bond; Her second apprentice varied greatly to the Mandalorian, and Ahsoka had never been able to determine if it had been Baylan’s teachings, or the influence of her time with the bandits that had them so willing to fight in a situation it did not call for. “She isn’t going to like waking up and seeing you like this.”

“Then it will not be the worst thing I have done to her.” They replied, and while there wasn’t a hint of regret, their tone took on something somber that Sabine wasn’t a fan of. The Mandalorian could feel the brush of their muddled presence, reaching out to the anchor point of their bond, to the scar that entwined them together forever. 

Drifting off to the comfortable thrum of their force bond being brushed against, Sabine was only half aware of the Togruta sweeping defeatedly from the medbay. 

Consciousness did not find Sabine when they emptied the bacta tank and pulled her from it, nor did it find her as she was cleaned up and reassessed, as what wounds were left had been set to heal on their own, with minimal medical interference, now that her body would need to fight on its own once again, enjoying her quiet limbo over the thought of returning her active mind to the real world.

The first time her eyes opened in weeks she was met with dim lights and near silence. 

Bandages wrapped firmly around her abdomen, criss crossing against her back where the jetpack had burned and shrapnel had made homes in her skin, now almost entirely healed after her extended nap. Sabine gave her muscles an experimental flex to ensure she could still move, fingertips touching and toes wriggling under the warm blankets; someone must have just recently changed the thin hospital sheets for ones straight from the warmer. Her movement brought the reminder of pain, aggravating sore muscle under the haze of protection offered by the medicine pumping through her IV.

Tired golden eyes scanned the rest of the room next. There was a raw set of armor, seemingly fresh from a forge, stacked in a corner next to weapons crates, where she could see Westar power cells placed carefully on top of the locked containers, and a newer model of a jetpack she couldn’t recall the name of leaning up against it all. 

Shin was settled into a hard-backed chair shoved right up against her cot, knees pulled up to their chest and a datapad sitting against them, fingers idly swiping along a document that Sabine couldn’t focus her gaze on. Her wolf looked exhausted, Sabine couldn’t tell how much of the darkness around her eyes was eye makeup, or bags from lack of sleep. Their hair was in disarray, even the braid carefully tied and sitting at their collarbone seemed frayed and rushed, as if  tying it had been a mere afterthought to something more important. 

The armor strapped to their arms and legs was filthy, burns scorched across unpainted metal and deep groves went unfilled, a state Shin hadn’t even let become of themselves when they’d all been stranded on Peridea. 

The only indication Sabine had that they’d showered or changed clothes even once since they’d gone after Thrawn’s contact had been the dark blue of Ahsoka’s tunic bunched up around their torso, leaving their bare arms on display (which, Sabine would never complain about, if only Shin wasn’t wearing gauntlets and pauldrons strapped tight to her bicep), and the way pants so clearly borrowed from Ezra were tied tight around her waist, bunched up and stuffed into her boots with their greaves strapped awkwardly around the extra fabric. 

“You look like Bantha shit,” The Mandalorian croaked tersely, wincing at the feeling of glass in her dried out throat. Silver eyes flashed to meet her open eyes immediately, the datapad clattering to the floor in the scramble of their legs to push outwards to turn themselves to face her.

“You look dead,” Their voice sounded as equally rough as Sabine’s own, bringing a teasing smile to tug at the purple haired woman’s lips. 

“What, didn’t-” A dry cough rattled her chest, she only managed to turn her head to the side to cough into the pillow, her arms still felt like they were full of beskar. “Didn’t have anything nice to say to anyone? Didn’t say anything at all?” It was meant to be tasing, but the pull of their lips into what little resemblance of a pout they would allow answered enough. 

“I’ll go get the medic.” They stood sourly to pick up the datapad, tossing it into the seat they’d been occupying for gotal’ad knows how long. 

Sabine finally reached out, atrophied muscles protesting even as her fingers latched around the cold metal of their wrist. “Wait…” 

They did, turning to glower at them with a rage that had too much vulnerability under the surface, weakness they did not want the Mandalorian to be privy too, even if she could feel it in the knot of burnt out nerves in her abdomen. “Would you lay with me, and just… forget the world a minute? Ten out of ten recommend.” 

Shin’s weight shifted between their feet uncomfortably, even as Sabine forced herself to move, to make room in the hospital bed that felt both too big and too small. “You need the medic,” They insisted, but it wasn’t a denial of the offer; Shin looked exhausted, and the prospect of laying down seemed enough that they’d be willing to let Sabine get away with just a few more minutes without being poked and prodded by medics. 

“I need you more right now, I’m not going anywhere,” She let go of their wrist, hoping the invitation was  enough to keep them around. IVs and wires were moved too carefully when they’d finally relented, though Sabine could feel the tightness in their muscles ease as their head dropped back against her pillow.

Shin was laying ramrod straight next to her, as if moving would break her, afraid to do anything that could hurt her what a softie, stabbing people one day, then playing statue to avoid inconveniencing them almost two years down the line.. 

“C’mere, Kurs’kaded.” Another grunt of exertion as she forced her arms to move, though they were quick in how they turned to cave into the touch the minute Sabine offered, tucking themselves up into her side as their face found their spot in the crook of her neck, fisting the fabric of the uncomfortable shirt in their fists as their nose crinkled. 

“You don’t smell right,” They complained in a quiet whisper, bringing a tired giggle from the older woman.

“Plenty of time to fix that later, doubt anyone’s been able to nail my skin care routine during my nap,” Sabine’s fingers brushed through their hair, relaxing more and more with how their shoulders eased and the way the force around them felt like it started to clear. “Speaking of naps…”

“You need a medic,” But their voice was already thick with sleep, breath soft where it began to even out against Sabine’s neck, the offer of safety in the arms they’d been missing for so long too enticing; they couldn’t remember the last time they’d slept. 

“You spent so long watching after me, let me return the favor, just for a bit.. Someone will come along eventually.” It didn’t take Shin long at all to nod off with the promise, and the press of her fingers against Sabine’s scar to ground themselves to her life probably wasn’t detrimental to assuring her of the Mandalorian’s survival either. 

“You’re awake,” Sabine’s attention was pulled from the sleeping blonde for the first time in hours, stopping her thousandth trace of the constellations craved across their skin in beauty marks and freckles. 

“Or you’re just tripping really hard right now,” Sabine teased in a quiet whisper, watching Ahsoka as the woman moved to lower herself quietly into the seat closest to her. 

Ahsoka’s lips pursed, clearly fighting a smile as her hand came to rest on the open space of the mattress between them, itching towards touching Sabine to verify for herself just how alive her Apprentice was. Sabine gave a quiet, fake dramatic sigh as she brought her hand down to rest overtop of Ahsoka’s, much smaller than the Togruta’s as she curled her fingers around the older woman’s. “What did you guys even do while I’ve been out?”

“Well… Some of us-” Her eyes flickered to Shin before coming back to Sabine with a knowing look. “Waited for you to come back.” 

Sabine offered a nod of her head in understanding as she bought her other hand from Shin’s hair to rub circles into their back. “What about everyone else?”

“Mmm. Ezra and I handled the Imperial cell; There were whispers of a New First Order, but it doesn’t seem as if they’re organized enough, not after our last round of strikes.” Ahsoka shifted, hand slipping from Sabine’s to fill the empty canteen that had been sitting, just out of reach, toppled over when Sabine had reached for it in the force, too weak to grab it with her abilities, and too disappointed when she’d found it empty.

Water was filled and passed over gratefully, as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing the slow, heavy breathing from the slumbering wolf; the only reaction they had to Sabine gulping down water was to press their face closer to the movement of her throat and to slip under her shirt, chasing the warmth that had been steadily rising in the older woman’s skin. 

“How are you feeling?” Ahsoka asked at last as she returned to her chair, taking the canteen when Sabine had finally finished with it. 

“I’m not going anywhere for a hot minute, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sabine promised, knowing that she had zero intention of almost dying any time soon, and that she doubted she’d find a return to the battlefield for at least a month while she figured out the limits her wrecked body could handle.

“Next time, don’t push yourself so hard. It was a close one,” 

“You’re one to talk.”

“Sometimes, the student teaches the Master, you know.” Ahsoka’s facial marking rose with the knowing smirk she offered, before she shook her head and rose. “You should get more rest while you can, I’m sure the medics will come to check on you once they believe Shin is asleep and won’t attack them again.”

“.... again?...” 

“Go back to sleep, Sabine,” 

[dontmindme2600]

Hi again......If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

OH MY GOD I’D LIKE TO APOLOGIZE BECAUSE MY BAD BECAUSE I LEFT THIS SITTING IN MY DRAFTS AND TOTALLY FORGOT TO ANSWER THIS!! Anyways, top 7, in no particular order:

Hunter x Hunter: I’m not as into this as I was in middle school but it’s never left my mind. Definitely my favorite shonen, Togashi’s originality with the series is really refreshing. (I also love Yu Yu Hakusho by him!!) As weird as it gets the characters and story are always a blast to follow. The villains also go hard. I finished the 2011 anime and I have up to volume 13 of the manga! I’d love to catch up fully since it’s being updated again, but haven’t gotten around to it yet. It’s something that I’ve always been inspired by even if I don’t want to make something that’s gonna be EXACTLY like it anymore lol.

Cowboy Bebop: I tried to limit myself to one (1) Shinichiro Watanabe anime for this list, but his other stuff fucks as well. I love Spike. (bet you never would’ve guessed!!) It’s hard to put into words in a way that doesn’t sound incredibly dumb. But. Every character introduced has their own unique worldview, backstory, flaws, etc. It sounds so fucking stupid because yeah, that’s what a character is supposed to have?? But this anime does that REALLY well?? I think what I’m trying to say is that the show does a great job of presenting different lifestyles and perspectives without worrying about making the audience uncomfortable. The anime is all about human connections and how they impact the characters and I LOVE that. It was also pretty moving to me, lots of great emotional moments. The episode where they find Faye’s old cassette recording and the one with Gren’s death will always stay with me. (Also the Andy one, but only because I think it’s funny as hell.) Watanabe is my favorite anime director ever and if you love Bebop I recommend checking out some of his other stuff as well! (Also props to an anime director that isn’t afraid of diversity in his character designs)

Witch Hat Atelier: I’m not nearly as caught up with this as I would like to be but!!! I love the writing, worldbuilding, and characters. I wish more manga were like this. Not like, aesthetically, but like quality wise. Everything is done really well and the art and paneling is GORGEOUS omfg. Also Kamome Shirahama is a very cool and progressive person and it’s just nice to read a manga by someone like her. I’m hyped as hell for the anime and can’t wait to see WHA reach a larger audience!! (Even with all the bad stuff it may bring, lmao)

Invader Zim: This one is probably the most different from the rest of the list lol. I’ll rewatch a few episodes of this every once in a while. It’s one of the only shows I watch that actually makes me laugh out loud. I also don’t think I’ve really seen anything else like it??? Sure there’s stuff that’s it’s pretty similar to but you cant really say, “wow, this is exactly like ____!” which is super cool. There’s not a major character in the show that I can say I hate or even just am neutral on, I love them all. I’m not usually a fan of stuff the gross-out humor it does, especially in the first season, but just about everything else about it just lives in my brain rent free. I think it’s a really unique and funny show and I just vibe with it stylistically as well. Seriously, I love the art style and just overall,,, edgy vibe. I absolutely do not care that it’s a kid’s show and I unironically think it’s super cool lmao. I know should probably check out some of Jhonen’s other stuff but I haven’t done that yet…

The Ace Attorney Trilogy: This one is more so just Shu Takumi in general. It’s a hard choice because I love Apollo Justice as well, and I also considered Ghost Trick (also by Takumi) but Agh!! The trilogy is the most iconic to me so I’m going with that. I just love seeing and interacting with all the unique characters the series has to offer. I’ve always liked how Takumi isn’t afraid to stray away from the generic skinny anime designs for his characters, it makes his characters feel very unique and memorable. He seems to be against having most of his characters be one dimensional, giving them their own struggles and aspirations, regardless of if they’re a “silly” character or not. I love it! It makes them more memorable and enjoyable than many other visual novel characters to me. (Please remember that I also love Ghost Trick holy fuck it’s so good)

Yakuza 0: I’m going to be 100% for real and admit that I discovered this series because of a bunch of stupid clips I saw of it on YouTube. It wasn’t the dame da ne memes, this was before that. But like, clips of all the silly stuff you can do in game like dance, receive a chicken as a gift for winning at bowling, assign said chicken a position at your real estate business, etc. So I bought it on a whim looking for a laugh. And. Holy FUCK. I did not expect the actual real serious story of this game to hit me as hard as it did. Just a good, moving story. I was THOROUGHLY emotionally invested in both Majima and Kiryu’s storylines by like, chapter 2 for both of them. I think it made me cry?? The fact that you can experience both that and the stupid shit, on top of the fun combat, makes it an S tier game for me. I plan to continue with the rest of the series (so far I’ve gotten through Kiwami 1 and 2 and loved them) but 0 has so far been my absolute favorite.

Pokemon: It’s not a perfect series but I always find myself getting back into it for a while every year. I’ve been a fan since I was just old enough to read, what can else can I say? I don’t have a super deep reason for this it’s just something that’s always been comfortable and fun!! The worldbuilding, story, music, and characters, really shine through in some of my favorite games in the series. And regardless of story, the gameplay is always fun.

It’s hard for me to determine my favorite anything but for this I tried to go by:

-How often I ended up going back to these

-How much each work made an emotional impact on me (not just the deep stuff, can also include things like making me laugh)

-How much each of these inspired me (like as in inspired my art or made me think “I want to make something like that!!!”) I think I’ve thought to that at least once for everything in here! It’s actually kind of scary because they’re all so different-

I’m probably missing something here but this should give you an idea!! If I spend any longer on this I’m just gonna keep changing it lolllll

[missywritesfor7]

🌙Moon’s Light | JJK🌙

Synopsis: Luna is a young paralegal trying to maintain her new found independence and enjoy life. Too bad her job sucks and her boss is the worst. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she encounters a vampire named Jungkook who changes her life in more ways than one.

Jungkook is a shield and protector of the vampire kingdom of Korealis. He’s trained his entire life to block out any and all distractions and focus solely on becoming the strongest. While investigating a potential threat to the kingdom, he encounters Luna who turns out to be more than he could have ever imagined. It becomes his job to protect her, but he can’t tell if what he’s feeling is his devotion to the job or perhaps something deeper.

Secrets are uncovered. Lives are on the line. Hearts are tested.

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Fem!OC

Warnings: Violence, character death, eventual smut, tragedy, some angst, strong language, MINORS DNI

Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist

|| Ch. 13: New Old Memories ||

Luna can’t tell if she’s sleeping or if that vampire going through her portal was the final push needed for it to kill her. Whatever it is, she’s suspended in a dark and quiet space surrounded by nothingness. She can’t move or make a sound, she can only float along with nothing but the thoughts in her mind.

She wishes she at least knew if she were still alive or not so she won’t have to remain in fear. All she can remember is yelling and then everything faded to nothing. Did Jungkook or one of the other guys kill the vampire? Did the vampire manage to run off with her somehow? What if she’s left in the house dead along with her parents?

Suddenly the view around her changes. The black abyss has turned into her parents’ house. Not in present day, but it’s how the house was when she was much younger. Strangely she’s able to walk around as if she had been transported back in time. She steps inside and finds her younger self on the floor of the living room playing with an assortment of toys.

“Hey,” she whispers to her younger self but there’s no response. “Am I a ghost?”

Her younger self gets up after a moment and runs through her to her parents room.

“Ok I’m definitely a ghost or something,” she mumbles following her younger self.

Suddenly she remembers this day. She was 5 years old and this was the day she overheard her mom crying about “Luna” but not her. That was the day her mom told her about her best friend Luna who she was named after.

“My Luna,” her mom’s voice can be heard through the door where 5 year old Luna stands listening a bit before entering the room. “What can I do? How do I protect her from the same fate? How do I protect her when I’m not even sure what he looks like? How did you not know what he was? I need you, Luna.”

“I’m right here, mommy,” young Luna says finally entering the room. “What’s wrong?” She asks noticing her mom’s tears.

“Oh nothing, honey,” her mom says wiping her her face and pulling Luna into her lap on the bed. “I was just thinking about my best friend Luna.”

“Your best friend has the same name as me?”

“Yeah,” her mom says softly. “I named you after her.”

“Really? Why?”

“I loved her like she was my sister, so when you were born…she passed away. I wanted to name you after her to keep her memory alive.”

“Oh,” young Luna says not fully understanding.

She understands it now though. The many times her mom would tell her that she reminds her of her best friend more and more. But something she hadn’t thought much of before was what her mom was saying before she ran into the room. What did she mean by “How did you not know what he was?” as if there were a previous relationship with the vampire who did this.

She was confused before but now she’s even more confused. If her birth mom already knew the vampire then what was the nature of their relationship? Why did it end with him killing her and her birth father? More importantly, what happened to him after? Is he still out there somewhere?

Suddenly the room around her disappears and she finds herself in the middle of another memory. She’s 7 years old and sitting in the emergency room. This was the day her eye turned red out of the blue. She had gotten into a disagreement with one of the girls in her class for a reason she can’t even remember. All Luna knows is she got upset and started yelling at the girl. In her tirade, her eye somehow turned red and scared the girl into crying to the teacher. The teacher thought Luna had hit the girl until she noticed her eye. Luna was sent directly to the nurse where her parents were called to come pick her up.

Unsure of what would cause her eye to suddenly change color, her parents took her to the emergency room fearing the worst. She was inspected inside and out puzzling everyone that laid eyes on her.

Luna watches the memory play out right before her eyes. Her younger self is sitting on the hospital bed while her parents sit in two chairs next to her. The doctor left the room to check the results of the many tests they ran on her. Her parents are speaking in a low voice, though not quite low enough for Luna to not hear. She was scared, but she was trying to be brave the way her favorite show taught her.

As before, she was so young and didn’t have the knowledge she has now, that she never thought anything of what her parents were saying. She heard every word but never once thought twice about it.

“Why did this happen so suddenly?” Her dad asks her mom.

“I don’t know,” her mom whispers. “Do you think that maybe it’s a….side effect?”

“Why would it show up 7 years later?” He asks perplexed. “Wouldn’t she be born with something like that?”

“I don’t know any more about this than you do. It’s not like there’s a guide out there that tells us how these things work.”

“What if it doesn’t go away? Would she be more noticeable? Would she be safe?”

Her mom looks at him worried about the fact that she really doesn’t have an answer. Before she can respond, the doctor returns looking just as puzzled as everyone else.

The doctor explains that all of Luna’s tests came back normal. He can’t explain why her eye is red or why it suddenly appeared, but his only theory is that it’s some type of birth defect. Though it seems completely harmless, he wants to continue seeing Luna regularly to see if there are any changes.

When he leaves the room her parents begin whispering to each other again. Young Luna is more concerned about the harrowing thought of having to walk around with different colored eyes than she is about whatever her parents are talking about.

“It has to be a side effect,” her mom whispers. “If it doesn’t go away we’ll have to figure out a way to keep her safe.”

Luna remembers the fear and uncertainty of her parents. She had no idea the full gravity of the situation, but after this day her parents came up with the idea to have her wear contacts. Each day they would make sure she didn’t leave home without them.

Despite the contacts, the damage at school had already been done. Many kids in her class witnessed everything so rumors were already flying by the time she returned. Kids called her all kinds of names and treated her like a monster. She felt like an outcast and begged her parents day in and day out to let her change schools but they always told her no.

Sitting through this memory again has unlocked deep feelings that Luna had stored away for a long time. The painful elementary years brings tears to her eyes. She doesn’t know why she’s seeing this and reliving it all again, but when she sees her younger self crying she can’t help but do so too. She slowly approaches her younger self and wraps her arms around her. She can’t be seen, heard, or felt in this state, but she sits there embracing and crying with herself anyway.

Jungkook hasn’t sat still since he returned home. Luna has been unconscious for hours now and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The rest of the guys have since returned and stopped by to check Luna’s condition.

Jimin returned with Luna’s backpack of things that she had packed from her parents house. Yoongi collected a few things from the leftover ash of the now 3 vampires that lay dead in the house. When they felt all was clear, Taehyung took it upon himself to anonymously call authorities to come to the house and collect the bodies of Luna’s parents. He knows it could possibly cause an entire investigation once they’re found and they see that Luna is missing, but he couldn’t stand to let the bodies of her parents remain there abandoned like nothing. If he could do anything for Luna, he wanted to be able to do that.

After leaving her parents house they went searching for anyone using the portal near her work building. Thankfully they didn’t have to wait long before someone appeared right before them. They ambushed the guy and Namjoon brought him back and imprisoned him. They’ll interrogate him, but stopped to check in on Luna first. Yoongi tells Jungkook to continue giving her blood hoping that could help and let them know if her condition changes. The good news is at least she’s still alive.

Now Jungkook is alone with her struggling to make sense of things. He can’t figure out why this happened and why she still won’t wake up. He’s been trying to remain calm, but the more time goes by, the more he feels his soul dying.

He’s blaming himself again. He feels he could have been better, faster, and stronger than he was. He should have been able to save her parents and he should have been able to save her. How can he call himself a shield of anything?

He looks down at Luna’s face and notices a tear sneaking out of the corner of her eye. He stares a moment thinking he’s seeing things, but then more tears start to fall.

“Are you crying?” He asks to no response. “Are you awake? Why are you crying? Are you in pain?”

She still doesn’t respond. Only silent tears streaming down her face. Something about this sight has Jungkook struggling with his own emotions and he can’t for the life of him determine why.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispers transforming into his bunny form and curling up next to her. He lays there catching her tears on his back and hiding his own until he falls asleep.

Luna is slightly relived when the painful memory of her childhood finally fades away. She’s then thrown in the middle of another memory, though this doesn’t look familiar to her at all.

It takes a moment but she realizes she’s in Korealis now. This certainly can’t be a memory of hers. She’s in the hallway of a school where she sees a little boy sitting on the floor against the wall.

“Jungkook?” She says recognizing his large eyes and round face.

Of course, he can’t hear her, but he does begin to hear a couple of teachers talking in another room.

“I don’t know why they have him enrolled in this school,” one teacher says. “We can’t do anything with him.”

“I guess his dad wanted him to try being a normal kid,” another teacher says. “I don’t know how, but he convinced the dean to accept him although he’s supposed to be in the Royal Academy.”

“Why would the dean make an exception for the man who got the late king killed? If this kid is going to be the next generation of royal shield then shouldn’t he be at the royal academy so he can be better than his failure of a father? We can’t give him that type of training.”

“Maybe he’s trying to create a new generation of failures,” the teacher laughs. “I don’t know why they let him keep his position. My nephew could protect the king better than that. He certainly wouldn’t let him die.”

“I feel bad for the kid. He doesn’t have a chance.”

Young Jungkook remains in the hallway clutching his knees. He uses everything in him to hold back his tears. This isn’t the first time he’s heard someone talking about his father being a failure, but he doesn’t understand why he has to go to a school where almost everyone thinks that. If he were at the Royal Academy as he should be he wouldn’t have to deal with this.

Luna looks on helplessly as young Jungkook silently cries to himself. The scene changes and now he’s crying to himself in his bedroom. The same bedroom Luna has become familiar with, except at this moment it’s filled with toys and typical decorations for a young boy.

His father enters the room with a slight limp and sits at the edge of the bed attempting to comfort Jungkook.

“What’s wrong?” His dad asks.

“I don’t want to go to that school,” Jungkook pouts. “Why do I have to go to that stupid school?”

“What happened?”

“The teachers called you a failure!” Jungkook says in frustration. “Why do you make me go there when everyone hates you?! Why do you make me go there and listen to that? I told you I didn’t want to go there!”

“Jungkook-“

“Why did you let the king die?!”

His dad pauses in shock at Jungkook’s outburst. He hangs his head a moment searching for the words to say.

“Jungkook,” he dad says softly. “I told you what happened. I told you I did everything I could. I wasn’t perfect, I admit that, but I did the best I could to uphold my duty. I sacrificed my leg to ensure the safety of this kingdom.”

“But why does everyone hate you? Why does everyone hate me? I didn’t even do anything!”

“Son, receiving hate from those who know no better is part of being a shield. Let that be your motivation to be better. Be better than me.”

“I will!” Jungkook says with conviction. “I’ll be much better so people won’t say the same bad things about me!”

“I know you will.”

The scene suddenly changes and Luna is in the sparring room. It looks slightly different, but there’s Jungkook in the corner lifting weights. He’s a little older now and much stronger, though nowhere near as strong as he is in present day. His father enters the room with a troubled look on his face.

“Jungkook,” he says trying to get his attention.

Jungkook grunts without looking up. He continues lifting weights as if his father isn’t there.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“No,” Jungkook grumbles.

“Jung-“

“I said no!” He slams the weights down and gets up attempting to walk past his father and out of the room.

“We’re not going to keep going through this!” His father shouts. He grabs Jungkook’s arm and gets close to his face. “I know you’ve been having a hard time, but you can’t keep getting into fights because people say something you don’t like.”

“It’s your fault that I keep getting into fights!” Jungkook huffs. “Everyone thinks I’m nothing because of you so I had to show them! I’m sick of hearing the same shit every day about you and things that I have nothing to do with. I’m not you and I’m going to make sure they remember that!”

“I know you’re not me,” his father sighs. “But please, Jungkook, you have to stop getting into fights. A royal shield cant get into trouble the way you’ve been lately.”

“Why should I care? According to everyone else you already set the bar so low so what difference does it make if I get into fights? You may be ok letting people talk shit about you, but I’m making sure they never curse my name like that.”

“I understand that, but I’m trying to keep you from letting your emotions give people a reason to talk about you the way they talk about me. I’m tough, Jungkook, I can handle it. You need to learn to do so too!”

“I am handling it!”

“No, you’re letting it consume you! If you want to be angry about something someone said then fine, but channel that energy into your training!”

Luna stands by in shock. Not only because of what she’s seeing, but why is she seeing it? This obviously is Jungkook’s memory, not her’s. How is this even possible?

“Is that why mom left?” Jungkook says in frustration. “Because all you were doing was channeling your energy into training instead of being an emotionally available husband and father?” As soon as those words leave Jungkook’s mouth he instantly knows he messed up.

His father’s rage can be seen clearly on his face. He raises his hand and summons a force field that surrounds Jungkook and holds him in place.

“You know NOTHING about why your mother chose to leave!” His father roars. “And it would be in your best interest to watch what you say to me or you will quickly find out how much damage I can do with this prosthesis!”

Jungkook hangs his head in silence. This isn’t the first time he’s upset his father, but this is the first time he’s seen that look of rage on his fathers face. If he was ever to learn a lesson about controlling his emotions, it’s right now.

“If you have something you want to say to me,” his father continues. “Then you say it, but I will NOT allow you to be disrespectful towards me! I don’t care how upset you are! This is exactly the thing I’m trying to teach you, son! Your temperament will get you in trouble, and if you ever talk to me like that again it will be the last thing you do! I will suck you dry of everything you have if you ever disrespect me again, is that understood?!”

“Yes, sir,” Jungkook says softly.

“Now get out of here and go to your room. I don’t want to have this conversation with you again!”

“Yes, sir,” Jungkook repeats.

His father removes the force field and storms out of the room. Jungkook stands there a moment trying to gather himself, then he quickly retreats to his room. Once he shuts the door he instantly changes to his bunny form and curls up under his blanket on the bed.

Everything around Luna fades and once again she’s suspended in a dark abyss.

“Jungkook…” Luna whispers sympathetically.

[i-am-arcana-trash]

Me, You and the Moon

Set on the one year celebration following the defeat of the Lord of Shadows.

*Thanos Voice* If Dorian won't give them a happy ending, I'll do it myself.

Sage x Loen

Chatter and the smell of smoked meat filled the dark clear night. Porrima, once a ghost town, was once again filled with life.

A celebration was being held, to honor the dead and the final death of the Lord of Shadows. It had been a long gruling year to get here and Sage grumbled as he kneeled next to Loen.

"You know this is usually for children?"

Loen grinned at him "Oh shush it's fun....please don't bite"

Sage prickled. He'd agreed to let the crystal vendor put, one singular crystal in his hair, after Loen had begged him.

Loen grinned as a few crystals hung in her hair. She'd let it grow out. She said it was called a mullet.

Sage’s ears bent back as the vendor approached "Oh relax tough guy, I'll take it out later, we can be a matching set"

Sage flushed slightly, his hand grabbing hers as the vendor made quick work of placing a single red crystal in his stark white hair.

Loen grinned as the weaver finished, reaching over to stroke his cheek "See..not so bad...."

Sage threw a glance around before Loen stood "Ya need a minute...?"

"Yeah...."

Together they moved down a quieter street, away from as much hustle and bustle. Sage was still wary of others, and perhaps it was just because it was the anniversary of the battle, but his nerves were a bit more heightened than normal.

Loen always picked up on it, the sole person who saw through him to his core.

They walked in comfortable silence before they exited the alley closer to the beach.

The sounds of the town celebrating floated over to them, but the crowds were focused away from them, providing some much-needed breathing room.

Loen looked over, smiling gently when Sage took her hand to his lips, placing a kiss over the knuckles. She reached over, her thumb stroking his cheek as she stepped into his space. He leaned in closer, their chests touching, his heart beat strong against hers.

Loen looked over at the patch covering his eye. The corruption couldn't be completely cleared, and Sage hid his eye.

"Can I.....?"

Sage looked past her for a moment before nuzzling in closer to her hand "Only you...."

Black leather fell away, revealing his corrupted eye. He focused on her face, forehead wrinkled.

"It's been a year....you're allowed to relax....."

Sage scoffed "I can't go back to that...."

Loen sighed "I'm not asking you too....you don't need to be the old Sage.....I think that the current one could take a breather...."

Sage avoided her gaze before softening under it. The moonlight sparkled off the crystals in her hair and Sage grabbed her head, holding it gently before kissing her.

Rushed and frustrated, her hand snaked up to wrap his bicep, letting him control their pace.

His tongue swiped her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth, granting him access. One hand came to cradle the back of her head as she pulled him closer. Slowly the kiss melted into a series of smaller kisses, whispered affirmations between them. When they finally pulled away enough to catch their breath, Sage nuzzled against her cheek.

"All I really need is me, you and the Moon...."

Loen grinned "Are you suggesting we run away into the night...?"

Sage shrugged "Maybe..."

Loen laughed lightly, threading her fingers into his hair, he huffed slightly, a soft purr emanating from deep in his chest. When she pulled his hair it deepened an octave, blush exploding on his cheeks.

"My good boy......"

He melted into her touch, putty in her hands. His arms snaked around her waist as he leaned against her "Do you really want to leave?"

He sighed "Maybe....I don't know...."

Her eyes softened, kissing the corner of his mouth, "Well.....if you decide you want to leave...I'll be coming with you...."

He was about to respond when something caught his attention.

"Oy you two! We've been looking everywhere!"

Tulsi's voice carried over to them and Loen waved as Tulsi, Anisa and Elowen stepped out by the busy crowd.

Sage sighed before leaning down to kiss her again, securing his patch back over his right eye. "Okay I'm ready..."

Loen grinned linking her fingers with his, guiding them back towards the group, waving as Felix arrived, piled high with drinks.

Sage held back as Loen joined the group, talking animatedly. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do next, but when she smiled back at him, aglow in the light of the festival, surrounded by the people they trusted most, he wasn't sure he was quite ready to leave them behind.