#halloween fic 2
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I don't think we're talking enough about how the premise for the 1827 meetup in the cemetery was a date, pure and simple. There was no "uh oh, Aziraphale is in trouble again", no big point in history that both sides needed them to attend, no Arrangement at all... nope, it was an invitation and an accepted invitation. It was literally Crowley saying "hey angel, I saw a thing that you'll find funny (I was thinking about you), come and hang out with me about it" and Aziraphale does.
And I wonder what would have happened next if they hadn't stumbled across grave-robbing Elspeth and her moral dilemma.
#good omens meta#good omens#good omens s2#good omens 2#the resurrectionists#gos2#1827#if anyone wants to write this fic#or already has#i'd love to read it!!#good omens thoughts#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#ineffable spouses#it's also funny to me that this very well could have been Halloween#a duck talks
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Happy Halloween
English is not my first language, please be kind
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•Warnings: ghostface mask, smut, piv, knife play, orgasm denial, fingering, oral sex (male).•
Modern!Ghostface!Aemond x Girlfriend!Reader
In the real world, Halloween is when kids dress up in costumes and beg for candy. In Girl World, Halloween is the one day a year when a girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girls can say anything else about it.
That was a philosophy your boyfriend, Aemond, never shared with you.
So that’s why you never shared your Halloween costume to him until the horror night came.
“So how are you going to be dressed this year?” He asked as he laid down on the couch, his head resting on your thighs as you held your phone in your hands, searching for inspos for your costume on Pinterest. You made sure to hold it high over his head, so he couldn't see anything.
“I’m not telling you baby, you know it.” You smirked as you closed your phone and threw it somewhere on the couch, smiling down at him.
“Come on, it’s not fair.” He whined, making you smile even more. “We could dress matched, you know? You just have to tell me how you’ll be dressed.” He tried again, but you weren’t going to fall in his trap, despite how much the idea of matched costumes sounded good.
“Nope.” You chuckled, making him whine even more.
“FIne.” He scoffed. “Keep the secret for yourself.”
«So you’re coming to Aegon’s Hallowen party? See you at my house?»
You smiled at your boyfriend’s message and quickly typed him back:
«Yes, baby. See you there»
You looked back at yourself in the mirror.
Fishnet stockings, short, fake blood stained white dress, a black corset, a brown bandana, and of course, boots.
The perfect bloody, sexy pirate.
Aemond was not one to enjoy costumes, he didn’t like to think about it and he didn’t care about making the effort, still, he had always managed to make you happy with his lame costumes.
And when you walked into the Targaryen house, you had to say you were very pleased with his costume choice this year.
You recognised him immediately only because his white hair was visible from under the mask.
The ghostface mask.
He was also wearing some baggy jeans, and a tight black shirt, that showed off his perfect biceps and his sculpted abs.
Aemond approached you and quickly backed you up against the wall beside the door, raising a knife to your throat.
You bit your lip as the mere sight of your boyfriend was getting you shamefully wet.
“No, please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!” You chuckled as Aemond pressed the knife to your neck.
“Hi baby…” His voice sounded way lower and rougher from beneath the mask.
“Fuck, baby… You really want me to miss the party and spend the night in your room?” You moved your hand on his abs, feeling the muscles hot and hard under your hand. “Why ghostface?” You smirked up at him, curious.
“Because it represents me.” He said from under the mask. You chuckled and pulled him closer, so his body was pressed against yours.
“Yeah? You’re a serial killer, baby?” You joked. Not like you could see it, but you knew he was smirking from under the mask.
“I’d kill anyone for you.” He said before raising the mask, confirming your thoughts about his smirk. You had to bite back a moan at his words.
As a fan of horror movies, and Halloween night, you couldn’t deny how those words were extremely sexy.
“Fuck the party, baby.” You breathed out. “Let’s go to your room.”
Aemond quickly grabbed your hand and started to drag you towards the stairs.
He had to keep pushing people away to make space for himself, and he was hating it every time more. He also hated how every guy seemed to be looking at your cleavage.
“The corset, baby?” He pulled you in front of him, then he wrapped his arm around your waist as he kept walking, keeping your back pressed against his chest.
“I like it, it makes me feel sexy.”
“Oh, but you are. You are too much.” He grunted in your ear. He finally reached his room and opened the door, thanking that no one had entered yet.
He quickly locked the door and pushed you against the wall, the ghostface mask looking down at you as he raised his knife back to your throat.
You smiled as you stepped back until your back hit the wall.
“I thought you said you’d kill anyone for me.” You smirked.
“I did.” He pressed the knife harder against your neck. “But now, you’re the one who’s misbehaving.” He said as he put a hand on your shoulder. “And you’re the one who needs to be disciplined.” He pressed his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to kneel down on the floor, discarding the knife on the floor,
You smiled as you were faced with the crotch of his pants, already tight, the shape of his cock straining against the material.
“You see what your stupid corset does to men?” He growled as he started to unbuckle his belt, then unbutton his pants, letting out a sigh when he finally freed himself from them.
His cock jumped out in front of your face, the sight breathtaking as always. It was half hard, but it still was beautiful, long, pale and veiny.
You immediately leaned forward and licked his tip, taking it for a moment in your mouth, sucking it like a lollipop before pulling back. You placed a hand on his thigh, the other wrapped around his length, pumping it fast as you pressed your tongue against the tip, looking up at him.
Aemond moaned, his hips bucked forward as he leaned his head against the wall, open hand tangling in your hair from above.
“Hands off.” He growled, his voice low and authoritative, making you immediately pull your hands off of him, and moving them behind your back. “Mouth open.” He ordered then, his breath deep and heavy, his eye fixed on you.
From his angle he could see your perfect tits squeezed in the corset, he could see your mouth open, ready to take his cock as you looked at him with those pleading eyes of yours, he could see the shape of your ass, round and soft.
You could see how he was losing control. You could hear his breath, the mask making it louder, the sound sending a shiver down your body. You could feel his body tense, hard, and restrained, but you knew that eventually, he was going to snap.
And you couldn’t wait for it.
“Happy Halloween, baby.” He growled, then, with a determined, firm move, he trusted his hips forward, pushing his cock in your mouth.
You moaned as the tip of his cock almost made you gag, the salty taste of his skiing mixed with his precum invading your mouth.
You tried to relax your gag reflex immediately, well aware of what was about to come.
Aemond pushed your head back against the wall, he moved forward and placed both his hands on your cheeks as he started to thrust in your mouth with abandon, listening to the sound your mouth did everytime he pushed too far, the gag or the slight choked moan, the squelching sound or your little whines.
“Take my cock, baby –” He moaned as he panted, he was trying to restrain himself, he was trying to no push so far, but when you looked up at him, with tears streaming down your face, your eyes full of lust, his cock pushed inside your mouth, it was too much.
He growled as he put his hand on top of your head, securing your head back against the wall, and he pushed his cock inside your mouth, to the end.
You widened your eyes and looked up at him, trying to resist every urge, to pull back, cough, gag.
“Jesus Christ –” He panted, his head falling back, his eyes closed as he moaned loudly. “Fuck, yes!” He pulled back, but he didn’t give you much time to take your breath, he immediately started thrusting his cock in and out your mouth.
Droplets of saliva were dripping down your chin, your cheeks were wet from tears of effort, your nails were digging in your palms to resist the urge to touch him.
“Give me your hands – “ He panted, and you immediately lifted your hands, letting him wrap his hand around his wrist and pin your hands on the wall above you. “Just one more time, mh? You’re taking it so well.” Without waiting for a confirmation, he pushed his length inside your mouth again, the tip slipping down your throat until his entire cock was buried in your mouth, again.
You writhed, despite your effort to stay still, but he had mercy, and pulled out almost immediately.
He pulled you up, and pushed you towards the bed, pushing you down on it so you were laying on your back.
He quickly pushed your legs apart, spreading you open in front of him and pulled down your panties, looking at how a string of wetness connected your core to the material, letting out a moan at the sight.
“Sucking my cock made you so wet, mh?” He growled as he passed his fingers against your core, making you arch your back.
“Y.yes, Aem -” You moaned as you tried to grind your hips against his hand. He slapped your core, making your writhe on the bed.
“Stay still.” He ordered with a grunt, slipping two fingers inside you with ease. “Fuck –” He breathed out as he started thrusting his fingers with force, making you grip the blacket tightly in your hands. You moaned loudly as his fingers rubbed repeatedly against that sweet spot inside you, the fastness and roughness of his movements bringing you close to the edge in a time record.
The mask did its job too.
“Fuck, em, I’m –” You whined as you looked down at his hand, your eyes taking the sight of his veiny hand, his fingers disappearing inside you tight heat repeatedly.
You arched your back, ready to feel the waves of pleasure run through you after your orgasm, but they never came.
Aemond slipped out his fingers right before you could reach your climax and slapped you core a couple of times, the impact between his hand and your clit making you cry out and close your legs.
“Dont’.” He snarled as he pushed your legs open again, not so gently, and slipped two fingers back inside, you back arching violently. “I’m not done with you.” He growled as he resumed the same movements with his fingers, hard and fast, touching all the right places.
You moaned loudly, looking down again, but Aemond wrapped his hand around your throat, pushing your head back against the bed, his face leaning down close to yours, the mask straight right back at you.
“You make me want to kill everyone that looks at you –” He snarled as his fingers kept moving, thrusting inside you, rubbing your walls. You moaned as you felt your stomach clench at his words, the pleasure building fast, and harder than before.
“F-fuck, Aem – I-I -” You let out a loud whine when he straightened up and slipped his fingers out before you could find your release.
You cried out and closed your legs, curling on the bed, your whole body shaking from your second denial. “Please, make me come!” You sobbed.
Aemond moved to grab the knife from the floor, and got back to you, pushing you face up on the bed by your shoulders so he could get over you.
He pushed the knife against your throat, to keep your head safely down.
You knew you had every right to be pissed with him after two denials, but it was nearly impossible with how hot he looked with that mask on his face.
You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter every second you passed by looking at him.
“You’re mine.” He said, his voice low because of the mask. He didn’t give any more warnings, he just pushed his cock past your folds, all his glorious length spreading your walls apart with ease due to how wet you already were.
You moaned and arched your back with a long moan as he started with a hard, slow pace, taking his time to pull out, and slipped back in with all his strength, almost sending you up the bed.
He kept the knife against your throat and the other went to your dress, he pulled it out, tugged down the corset until your breasts would be both free, and naked to his eye.
“You’re so fucking tight, baby -” He moaned as he picked up the pace, his head hanging down as he moaned.
“A-Aem, you feel so good –” You moaned back, holding on his wrists as his cock spread roughly your walls, hitting you deeper at every thrust.
You reached up to his face with one of your hands, and pulled his mask off, revealing his face, his forehead covered in a veil of sweat, his hair a bit messy, half tied back, some strings sticking to his forehead.
His fake, blue eye uncovered, and a splash of fake blood painting his face red.
You smiled at his effort to come out with a fairly good costume.
“God, baby -” You moaned as your back arched again, the denial of the last two orgasm making you sensitive, but even making the pleasure that was currently building stronger.
“Aem -” You panted. “I swear, if you don’t let me come -” You tried to threaten, but he smirked and pressed the knife harder against the skin of your neck.
“You’ll what, uh?” He chuckled, giving you a few harder thrusts, as if to remind you hou you were not in control at the moment.
“Aem –” You whined. “Come on, please –” You cried out. “I want to come.” “Yeah?” He asked. “You want to wet my cock even more?” He smirked. “You want to come on this cock?”
“Yes! Aem, I’ll make you feel so good -” You moaned, your voice was strained as the pleasure threatened to wash over you. You arched your back violently, and you spread your legs even more, trying to get him deeper inside you.
He growled as he started thrusting harder, speeding up so suddenly, making you almost scream.
“Then do it. I want to see my cock leaking because of you, baby.” He growled. “Come.”
“G-God, Aem!” You moaned loudly as you finally came, your orgasm hitting hard on you, harder than usual, your hands were trembling as you reached for his neck, pulling him down close to you as you held onto him.
“Fuck – You’re squeezing me so tight, baby – “ He grunted, his voices strained as well, his body tense, on the edge. He threw the knife away and hugged you back, thrusting one last time, burying his cock inside you as he spilled himself in your heat.
You both panted as you simply hugged each other on the bed, trying to calm from the pleasure.
“I love you too.” He whispered in your ear, leaning his head back enough to look down at you.
You smiled back at him.
“You know, I think your costume is better than mine this year.” You smirked. Aemond chuckled and kissed you softly.
“I’ll keep it in mind for next year.” He rolled on his side, bringing you with him.
“Why wait a whole year? And why use only one mask.” You smiled as you mentally started listing all the masks you’d love him to wear.
“Oh, really?” He raised his eyebrow as he looked at you with a smile.
“Really.”
Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe
#aemond fanfiction#prince aemond#aemond fic#aemond smut#hotd aemond#hotd s2#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#hotd season 2#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#aemond x reader#ghostface#scream#halloween
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The Ghost of You
Banner by my dear @commonmisery
Ghost!Joel Miller x fem!reader
TLOU 2 SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU"VE BEEN WARNED!
Join my taglist: Masterlist
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Summary: After moving into Jackson, you're put up in a house that hasn't been lived in for years. Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Can you help Joel move on to the next life to be with his daughter? Or will you keep him here selfishly with you?
Warnings: TLOU 2 SPOILERS, ghost!sex, mentions of violence and the things Joels done and what happened to him. bittersweet ending. Body marking and blood but it v consensual. It's loving.
A/N: This is my goodbye to writing Joel. I've made a few statements on thi before and if you've followed me for a while you know why. I won't rehash it. But I wanted to write this idea I had talking to @multiversed-daydreamer as my goodbye. i won't say it my last joel forever but it is for along time. all other series are cancelled. I am also just largely essening my writing for p-boys but I'll still be around witing frankie and javi and marcus sometimes. You never know. My main focus rn is logan howlett, triple frontier, and my original content
This is my love letter to the Joel fandom that has given me so much love and friendship
Looking for something similar? Brother by @macfrog is Tommy saying goodbye, and The Devil's Wife is devil!Joel, similar theme of halloween by @noxturnalnymph
8.5 words
It was cold. That was annoying. How you’d wandered your fucking way out to Wyoming, you’ll never understand. One minute you were in Florida complaining about the heat, now you were being treated for frostbite in your toes.
You’d arrived in Jackson last afternoon, nearly frozen to death and had been crashing in the clinic bed ever since. The doctor, a nice older man, took care of you and a few nurses checked in overnight, and today you were cleared to get settled. Word of mouth had told you Jackson was the place to go, a safe haven, a community where people actually take care of each other. Maria Miller, the town founder, had just left your room saying she’d be outside doing paperwork whenever you were ready for the short tour. You’d get the full spiel eventually, but right now the frostbite made walking a little hard. She'd just show you her office, the mess hall, a few quick essentials and then take your to your new home.
That was when you heard shouting outside the door. One voice was Maria, the other you didn’t recognize. It was hard to hear, but you listened in with your ear pressed to the door.
“It’s been 3 years Tommy. I know this is difficult for you but-”
“You don’t know shit!”
“Excuse me? Who was there for you when you drowned your feelings in moonshine for years? Who took care of Walker while you went off on pointless revenge missions!”
“Don’t you bring him into this. Don’t fucking do that shit, Maria, you know I had too.”
A beat of silence. “You had to do whatever you had to do to deal with what happened. We forgive you, we took you back here and the whole town in glad for it. But Tommy… Jackson is growing. We need the space-”
“You never fucking liked him! You never wanted him around! I bet you’re glad-”
The shouting began to overlap each other, voices raising until you were uncomfortable enough with the man’s temper you grabbed your gun and opened the door, pointing it at him.
“Settle down there, cowboy. Ain’t nice to yell at a lady.”
*
The next few minutes were embarrassing, to say the least. Maria explained that Tommy was her ex-husband. She didn’t go into the argument, but she assured you, not without gratitude, that firstly she could handle herself, and second that Tommy wasn’t a threat.
After Tommy left with a pointed ‘fuck you’ in your direction, you turn back to find Maria rolling her eyes.
“He’s a good man. I promise. Good dad, works hard, takes care of his people. He just gets… well, there’s some sore spots. C’mon let’s get you home. I bet you’re tired.”
Settled into the house that felt way too big for just you, your thoughts drift to the man. He was older, 50’s maybe? Dark brown hair with a few streaks of gray and tired lines around his eyes, but handsome. He was so angry, and angry at you. What the hell did you do? You hadn’t even been here a day! Fucking unreal. Men were men no matter where you went, but their temper tantrums never ceased to amaze you.
The house was pretty empty. You’d been given a few furnishings, but the house was stripped of all character, certainly taking apart everything the previous owner had. Had the place been occupied since the world fell apart? Or had someone who lived here died? You wondered how. You wondered if they had family, or if the town was their family.
The kitchen had kindly been stocked up pretty well, and you’d been given some toiletries so after eating, you enjoyed your first warm bath in a long time. Running water, and it was warm? Fantestic. You boiled a pan of water and tossed it into the tub for some extra heat just how you liked it.
In bed that night, that’s when things got weird. You felt a coldness wash over your body, a shiver you didn’t expect under the warm blankets. Then the window unlatched and flew open. You gasp, fearful at first, but then justify that since it’s on springs, the latch must’ve been not done right and just sprung open. No big deal. But then you felt a hand on your cheek and you froze.
It didn’t linger more than a second. The touch was fluid, but not wind, not air. There was a roughness to it, the distinct feeling of a large hand cupping your face… but you weren’t scared. Instead, you felt calmed. Relaxed.
It became routine, after a few weeks, you refused to go to sleep until you felt it, the touch of warmth on your face, and you felt safe. It didn’t take long for you to believe you had a ghost; after the cordyceps, ghosts were never far from disbelief, something you’d always been open to, but the question was who.
That would be answered soon enough. You could just ask, yeah, but you wanted to find out, in their own words. As the days progressed, you’d been given time to recover and adjust before working, so you spent a lot of time settling into your house. This was not without its encounters with the ghost. More and more, they seemed to get stronger, able to do more, communicate more. There were items shuffled around, bigger and bigger until the couch was moved.
“I don’t like it there.” You said out loud, pushing it back a few feet.
They moved it again.
“Come on, you’re being annoying.” You move, just for it to get moved back again.
You throw your hands up in the air. “Fine! At least be useful and carry the chair upstairs.” No response, no movement. “Dick.” A gust of wind through your hair and you giggle.
You scribble together a make-shift ouija board, a circle tied from some guitar string you found in a box the ghost knocked off a shelf that must’ve not been cleaned.
Candles lit, you cross legged on the floor, you try to get information. Requests for the name came up empty, but the string moved to “yes” when asked if they were a man.
“How old are you? Or- were you?”
5. 6.
“Old man.” You chuckle when wind brushes your hair. You’d learned this was his way of teasing.
“How did you die?”
D-o-n-t-g-o-g-o-l-f-i-n-g
“Don’t go golfing? What does that mean?”
No response.
“Was that a joke?”
Yes.
“Well, I don’t get it. You know that, right?”
Yes.
“Fine, don’t wanna talk about death I see. Fair enough, never been there myself but I heard it’s not fun. Uhhhhhh got any kids?”
2
“Go on.”
2 g-i-r-l-s. 1 d-e-a-d.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that… where is the other?”
I-d-o-n-t-k-n-o-w
“Shit, i’m sorry about that too. Must be confusing.” Not knowing where your daughter is must be hard. “Is your other daughter with you? In the afterlife I mean?”
e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g-i-s-d-a-r-k
That broke your heart. “Must be scary.”
Yes
Then, the string moved again.
N-e-w-t-o-p-i-c
a-b-o-u-t-y-o-u
For whatever reason, this makes you blush. You spend the evening telling him about yourself, sharing details and asking him the same. He didn’t like talking about his family, refused to answer any more questions. Wouldn’t say his name.
But it was the first time you’d been called beautiful over ouija board, you knew that much.
Even after you began working, every evening you’d run home to spend time with this ghost of a man. The most people saw of you outside your day labor was a pop into the mess hall to take food home or the clinic as they checked you were recovering okay.
“Don’t see much of you.” The doctor commented. “You adjusting okay? I know it’s a lot to get used to.”
You blink in confusion. You were fine. Happy, even. Sure, you didn’t get to know anyone… but why would you? You did your part for the community, then you went home. Hell, you volunteered extra hours sometimes, picking up more than your fair share. You just didn’t want to get close, that’s all. People died, you’d learned that hard lesson early in life, and learned it over and over and over again. There was no point in making friends, falling in love. Not when it was all so fragile.
But you had your ghost man. He had already crossed that barrier, so there was nothing to fear. Nothing to lose.That night, you talked out loud to him about your day as you always did, he made little sounds knocking cabinets together or brushing a breeze on your skin to let you know he was listening. Sometimes winds rustled your hair when he thought you were funny. Then, the wind turned into a gust, and two firm hands pressed you down the hall, the message clear.
“Jesus! I’m going I’m going!” You follow the breeze bushing you. Fuck he was getting more powerful every day. Pushed to the kitchen, you’re face to face with the fridge.
“If this is a fat joke- hey!” Two distinct fingers pinched your cheek and you laughed. “Okay, tell me what you want!” A breeze, and you hear a fluttering between the fridge. When you bend down and dig around the dust bunnies, you find a piece of distinct photograph paper, and pull it out. On it was a picture of a man, 30’s, maybe 40’s if you were pushing it, his arm wrapped around a hung girl holding a trophy. They looked happy.
“Is this you?”
The picture ruffled in your hand.
“And the girl, that your daughter?”
The pictures motion was repeated. This looked like it was from before, from long ago… you assumed the girl was the daughter that died.
“It’s so cute…” You traced the picture of your ghost, having a face but no name still. Your feel warm, a blush creeping around your skin and a deep heat settling in your stomach. He was handsome. You’d never really pictured him,, besides a few wandering thoughts here and there, but nothing stuck. You put his picture on your fridge.
At night, the image of his face danced in your head, unable to sleep. It was weird, this friendship you had with the ghost in your house, but you didn’t really care. There were worse things in this world, darker ways to cope. So what if a dead man made you happy, made you blush and grin and giggle. So what if he was the reason your hand was currently being shoved into your PJ’s.
You’d be lying if you hadn’t touched yourself that first night, but this was the first night you pictured his body on your, his face, that beard…
“Are you watching me?” You asked, panting. That was a first too. You knew there was a possibility he watched, but you didn’t really care. Never had. Now, you hoped he did.
A pause.
Then, the liquid touch of a hand on your face. He was here. He was watching.
“Good.” You assure him, hoping he stays. “Want you to watch.” Your fingers begin to pump in your cunt, and you kick off the covers. So what if it was cold, you wanted him to see you. You thought about what it would be like to feel his face buried between your legs, what his voice sounds like, how he’d touch you-
“You can touch me, if you want. Not just my face.” It was a bold statement. Things with you and him had been friendly, close, a little flirty… but nothing so far had suggested more. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t. Maybe he just watched to watch. Maybe you embarrassed him and he left.
Then his touch landed on your face, slowly trailing down, down, until you could feel hands on your breasts. The slightest brush on lips ghost the shell of your ear, your cheek, and your heart swells. He wants to kiss you.
“You can kiss me. It’s okay.” It wasn’t as strong a touch a his hands, but he ridgid texture of chapped lips touch yours, and ripples of pleasure flow throughout the erogenous zones on your body, far ore reach than two hands ever could. It tickles, and it feels fucking good.
“Wish you were here….” You mumble, still fucking yourself as hips bucked against yoru fingers, sopping wet sounds fill the quiet bedroom. “Never connected to anyone the way I have you.” A squeeze on your leg reassured you, and soon your tits were being messaged in a way clumsy human hands couldn’t do. It was like the rolling ocean crashing and waving and peaking on the tender flesh, a surreal experience to your touch-starved body.
“I’m gonna cum, I’m f-fuck, you’re gonna make me cum-”
Then you hear it, clear as day, sharp and quick against your ear.
“Joel.”
His name. You cry it out as your pussy clenches down on your fingers.
*
After that, ghost sex was something you and Joel regularly engaged in. He couldn’t really speak much still, usually only getting out one word. Generally it was ordering you to cum, sometimes a single word compliment slipped through with a southern accent.
“Beautiful.” He whispered as you lay in bed, satiated and panting.
He thought you were beautiful when you came.
There was never another reason to go anywhere outside of your home other than to work or get food, and more and more you just got groceries and worked with what you had. You liked cooking with him ,you didn’t want to be away.
Today, as you tried to make soup, you couldn’t help laugh as he managed to speak “More seasoning” and lift a fuck ton of herbs up and into the pot. At least he was a helpful ghost.
“You can just make it next time!”
You expect to feel your hair rustle, but instead his voice speaks.
“Tommy.”
Then a knock on the door. You were so startled (people never visited you) you almost didn’t answer. No one outside that door could be worth time away from Joel, but he pushed you to answer, a desperation in his actions that matched the tone he spoke the name.
When you answered, you would have shut the door if you weren’t curious about Joel’s reaction.
There stood the man who got in a shouting match with Maria. Oh, yeah, Tommy, that’s right. But why was he here? Tommy was tall, but his posture at the moment was sunken, sheepish. When he looked at you, pink dusted his tan skin. “Can I talk t’yuh?”
You narrow your eyes. “Sorry, but the last time we spoke you weren’t exactly polite enough for me to feel like welcoming you inside, and every time I’ve seen you, you give me dirty looks.”
He nods. “I understand, that’s why I uh… wanted t’explain myself. I shouldn’t’ve done that, but I was angry. Ain’t right, still…”
“What could I have possibly done to you?”
His eyes were large, brown, and wet. “This was uh… my brother’s house. He died 3 years ago.”
*
5 Minutes later, Tommy was sitting on the couch with you, cup of soup in hand. You hadn’t felt or heard Joel, but this was your chance. Some answers.
“Funny.” He pats the couch. “This was his. Was right here for years, never moved it.”
“It’s uh… a good spot. Now, I think you had some explaining to do?”
“Right…“ Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. “The house has been empty since he died. My wi- ex wife, I guess, kept it empty out of courtesy but she was right. It was time to move on.”
“Did he die in here?”
He shook his head. “No.”
Tommy explained it to you. The revenge that was enacted on his brother for saving the girl, Ellie. You wondered if that was his daughter he mentioned, but Tommy just referred to her as his kid. How the woman and their group killed him, Tommy saw his brother's head bashed in, brain matter on the walls.
The golf joke still didn’t make sense, but you’d figure it out. You learned more about Joel too, that he was from Texas, that his daughter, Tommy niece, died on outbreak day. Joel’s birthday. Joel played the guitar, he liked to swim, was an overbearing brother and loving dad. He was married once. He learned to cook to get Sarah to eat veggies so he was pretty good at it. Was a good man. The best, the way Tommy spoke.
“I know it ain’t right the way I’ve treat’n yuh. And I know it’s not your fault. I just hadn’t been handling his death well, you know? Lost my wife, almost lost my son… I ain’t been the man he raised me to be. I now you don’t… do anything. In town. That’s probably my fault and I’m so-”
“You think I stay home because I’m avoiding you?” You nearly bark out a laugh, his eyes growing in confusion. “Brother, I ain’t scared of no man, if I wanted to go to the movie nights I would have!”
Tommy processes this information, sipping on the last of the soup broth. “Oh… I guess I just assumed...”
“Well, you know what they say about assuming. Make’s an ass out of you and me. Here, gimmie.” You take his mug, walking to the kitchen to rinse it and still giggling.
Tommy follows you. “Well I’m sorry! I guess I just figured, the time’n ‘n all.”
You throw a look over your shoulder. “I stay home because I like it here. Because I’ve been alone for years, so I’m fine with it.”
“But why not-” He stops in his tracks. “Where did you get that?”
You follow his line of view and realize your mistake. “Uh. I uh. I found that while cleaning the kitchen, by the fridge. I guess I thought it was nice, so I hung it up… why? Who is it?”
You knew the answer before he even spoke Joel’s name. You had to pretend to be surprised, but even worse, you knew what you needed to do.
“Keep it.” You say, pushing the picture closer to him, breaking you a bit. You had to hide every emotion, because there was no reason for you to have any attachment to it. He didn’t know what you and Joel shared with each other. Who he was to you. It didn’t matter, because Joel was his brother. The girl was his niece. He deserved the picture.
“That’s her. That’s Sarah.” Tommy continued, confirming your suspicions as his finger trailed over the girl.
“She’s adorable.”
“Yeah… she was. Great kid too.”
Tommy helped you wash up the dishes from making soup, you and him talking more. He was nice when he wasn’t yelling. You could understand why he was so upset at the time, and you forgave it.
You told as much as he stood in your doorway. “I don’t hold it against you. I promise.”
He nods, smiling and looking more at ease. “Promise you’ll come to the next movie night, it’s tomorrow. It’ll be good for you, I promise.”
“What’s playing?‘
“Scream 2!”
You roll your eyes. “Not the first one?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tommy says with a tease. “Is fucking scream 2 at the end of the world not enough for you?”
You shove him out of your door, laughing. “Fine! I’ll fucking come. But only to see Timothy Olyphant.”
You shut the door, and turn around still laughing. But what you see shocks you so bad, you’d have screamed if you didn’t cover your mouth.
It was Joel. Faint. Barely there. A dead eyed stare. Much older than the picture and his hair was longer. But it was him.
“Joel?” You say, tentatively walking towards him. He wasn’t looking at you, instead, he was looking at the door, unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing. Your hand passes through him and when his form dissipates, you fall to the ground and cry.
*
“Are you mad at me?” You ask. He was strangely quiet the rest of the day, only a few little touches here and there. No ghost sex that night. When you are getting out of work clothes and putting something warm on for the movie, you bring it up.
“No.”
“Well, you’ve hardly talked to me. Is it because I asked Tommy as those questions about you? I’m sorry, it’s just easier that way and I wanted to know what happened to you-”
“I miss him.”
Three whole words.
“You’re getting stronger. Did you mean to appear to me yesterday?”
“You saw me?”
“Yeah, and I hear you really good now.” You grin. “I can’t believe you’re talking this much. Maybe I’ll skip the movie, I don’t wanna lose-”
“No. Go.” a brief pause. “Please.”
“Joel Miller,” You tease him. “Are you having me check on your baby brother?” He rustles your hair.
*
So, you started hanging around Tommy more. It started as filling Joel in on his life, but really, you liked being around Tommy. He was easy to talk to.
You lay on your side in bed, trying to picture his face as you’d done every night for months as you talk to him. Joel’s voice was clear, fully communicating with you now. Every now and then you could see a glimpse of him in a mirror or the faint frozen picture of him standing somewhere, usually after Tommy was over.
“Walker is doing really well.” You tell him about his nephew you’ve met a few times. For a few years, Tommy was barely around after Joel’s death, most of the time he was drunk. There was an incident several months ago where Tommy passed out of the couch and Walker tried to start the stove, resulting in a small kitchen fire, and Tommy effectively lost custody of his son. Not that family court existed here, but Tommy knew he couldn’t be there. This was shortly after you moved in, and was the reason Tommy finally got sober. Things were going better now, and he’s repairing that relationship.
“You met him?”
“Yeah, he’s quiet. But he’s very polite.” Tommy said he takes after Joel. Walker and Joel had been very close before he died, Tommy adored the little boy. The little boy in question was now 8, growing up.
He sighs. “Yeah, he was a good kid. I never had a son, figured raise’n Tommy was close enough. But when I was with him… Sometimes I think back to when Sarah died, how hard Tommy fought to keep her alive… yuh know, after she died I was just, I was drowning in my sadness. There was no room for Tommy’s grief, I guess. He’s stronger than I gave him credit for, because he was always there for me. If I had lost Walker… I dunno if I could have been that strong.”
A few days later, you invite Tommy and his son over for dinner, and as you stare at Walker eating his food and laughing you can see Joel. He’s no longer a still picture, he’s moving, and smiling, and laughing too. No one else can see or hear him.
But he looks right at you.
*
You can see him now, laying on the pillow beside you as the pair of you talk. Sometimes he’s tangible, hands touching your face and you can see his tan skin through your peripheral. Sometimes it’s more faint, like he’s using all his strength to be see and he can’t materialize his touch. You don’t know how it works, but you’re happy to see his face. Joel has kind eyes, a softness in a world of blood and violence.
“You're beautiful.” And it’s your voice whispering it to him, because he is. Every line on his face, the scar on his forehead, the tired darkness under his eyes as if an eternity to sleep wasn’t enough. Every little freckle you could map on his face on days he was more clear. It was perfect. It was him.
A sadness crosses over those pools of brown. “I really don’t deserve you…” When you open your mouth to protest, he continues. “I’ve killed people.”
That wasn’t a shock. Who hasn’t? “I have too.”
But Joel shakes his head, curls staying in place as if gravity is now inconsequential, as if he’s frozen in time with a single lock on his forehead. “No, I’ve killed innocents. A lot. Me ‘n Tommy, before… and protect’n Ellie…”
You thought about this for a while, a chill of cold reminiscent of when he first came to you makes you shiver, but when you look at him, you don’t feel the repulsion you know he expects. “You kill children?”
“No.” He says firmly, a glimmer of sadness crossing his eyes. You didn’t think so, knowing he knew what that loss was. “But that don’t make it much better.”
“Did rape anyone? Kill people for fun? Get off on it?”
Disgust mares his features. “No, never.”
You nod. “You kill any innocent people since coming to Jackson? Settling here?”
Again, a shake of his head doesn’t knock loose a single hair. “No, but before-”
“I’m not worried about before.” You voice is soft, and you tentatively reach a hand out to caress his face. His skin was soft, softer than a man in his 50’s would be, but that’s what happens when you aren’t fully there. “I don’t care about that. Really, I don’t. You deserve a second chance just as much as anyone does. The world out there-” You vaguely whisk your hand around. “Does things to us. As far as I’m concerned, as long as you’re not a rapist, didn’t kill kids, not one of those really, really bad people… I think you deserve to leave that all outside the gates of Jackson.”
His eyes soften, affection pooling with something more. “Thank you, darl’n I mean it. I wasn’t always forgiven in that life. Nice to know someone does in this one,”
Your heart aches for him, so you try to ease his pain. “Tommy forgives you, I know it. You heard how he talks about you.”
But he’s still distant. “Maybe. But maybe he just misses me. That’s different. Besides, there’s someone I know hasn’t.”
“Ellie?”
He nods. “She…. well, we just started talk’n, right before I died. Didn’t have the chance to find out if she ever would, you know? Now I never will.”
“She does, Joel. It’s been years, I know she does.”
But he didn’t believe you.
*
Joel’s words stuck with you, simmering in your head like the soups he helps you make. Today you were on patrol with a fairly quiet partner, so you had nothing left to do but think, think, think. Why did his words affect you so much? He was so stuck on forgiveness, even though he’d never know-
Oh.
That’s why he was trapped here, wasn’t it? Joel’s ghost remained behind because he didn’t have the closure he needed. Tommy and him had made up, but Joel died not knowing if Ellie ever did. Years of estrangement for taking her from the hospital, for saving her, for lying, and he wasn’t sorry, he told you himself. But he needed Ellie’s forgiveness. He needed to know Tommy didn’y hold resentment. He needed to know they were safe, that they were okay.
Joel couldn’t talk to Tommy. For some reason, you could hear him speak when Tommy was around, see him, but Tommy never reacted. Joel couldn’t even move things or create a breeze when he was around…
If Joel got what he needed, the forgiveness, the resolution he longed for, he could move on. You knew it. He was getting stronger every day, his appearance crystal clear, his touch more and more solid, less fluid than before. You wanted little more than to have him like that, as close to a real person as he could get, at your home you shared with him every single day, every hour, sleeping next to him, cooking with him, fucking him… part of your mind told you that you could do it.
But that wasn’t right. He’d be little more than a housewife, a sex doll, a captive. You could keep him there, to be your only friend outside of occasionally seeing his brother, the person who knew you best, someone always there to talk because what other options did he have?
That wasn’t you. The rational part won out, and your knew what you had to do.
*
Tommy’s face was one of worry when you told him you’d seen the ghost of his brother. You’d spilled it all out, sparing the ghost sex details, but instead of shock, he just asked you if you ere okay.
“Yes! Tommy I’m fine-”
“I dunno, you’re kinda a weird person to begin with, see’n shit wouldn’t be that new-”
“Tommy!” You stand abruptly from his couch, pulling at your hair. “I’m not seeing- I’m not hallucinating him! You don’t understand, I see him, I see him every fucking day that’s why I don’t go anywhere!”
A sympathetic look crossed his face. “Honey, maybe you’re seeing him because you’re alone every day.”
“I’M NOT CRAZY!!” You shout at him, and he softens.
“I know, I know.” Tommy stands. “Maybe… maybe you should stay here a few days, maybe this is a yellow wallpaper situation, you gotta get fresh air, a new environment-” he reaches for your arm but you yank it away.
“Does the term ‘don’t go golf’n mean anything to you?”
Confusion crosses his face. “Not really, why?”
A deep breath. “He… I asked how he died, with a ouija board i made and he just said don’t go golfing. Never explained.”
Tommy’s skin paled, the freckles on his face a stark contrast against him. His face a deadly calm. “How did you know that.”
You can’t help but groan. “I told you, he-”
“ENOUGH GAMES!” The sudden shout shocks you, and you step back. Tommy must’ve realized he was scaring you, so he calmed down just a bit. “I’m serious. This isn’t fucking funny.”
Tears of frustration and sadness filled your heart, begging him to believe you. You didn’t think Tommy would hurt you, but the distress he was in was clear. “I wouldn’t joke about this… he- he said it was a joke I wouldn’t get, and I don’t. Tommy please, I’m being serious…”
Then, the realization dawned on him, clear as day. He believed you. “Holy shit. You’re telling the truth…”
“I am.” You sob. “Tommy I swear I’m telling the truth. He needs help, he’s trapped here… we need to help him…”
He was shaking. “C-can I see him?”
It broke your heart to say no. He can only appear to me, I think…He’s tired when you are over…“
Dizzy, Tommy sits down. “He was round… whenever I was over, wasn’t he? That’s why I always feel so calm there…”
You nod. “He calms me too. I don’t know how.” You join him on the couch again. “Tommy, what does don't go golfing mean?”
His face is buried in his hands, and you think he’s crying. It’s a lot, you know, it’ a lot to spring on someone, especially that he can’t hear or see him still, his own brother so close and yet so far. But you were doing this for him, so that he could move on, so that he could see his Sarah in the afterlife.
When Tommy finally looked up, his face and hands were soaking wet.
“He was killed with a golf club. We never told anyone about that.”
*
Joel stood behind you, clear and crystalline, his body practically human. He was cold, but he brought you comfort. “Something on your mind, darl’n?”
You don’t wanna lie to him, but you can’t tell him what’s happening, not yet. You want a few more days without this hanging over you both.
“Tommy left for a few weeks. Just worried.” You didn’t tell him he went to find Ellie, to go back to the farmhouse she lived in with Dina and see if she’s there, if Dina knows where she lives kows anything. To try and convince Ellie that this woman she’s never met his eeing her dad as a ghost and they need to help him move on. But hes gonna try.
A week later, the town was in a ruckus, Tommy returning to Jackson with the prodigal daughter, her girlfriend, and a little boy.
Turns out Ellie went back to Dina, begged for her back on hands and knees, and they’d been living alone out in the country for years raising JJ. They all looked good, healthy, happy… Ellie was skeptical but she agreed to come as a favor to Tommy. Everything was planned for tomorrow, but as you lay in bed with Joel for the last time, you can’t bring yourself to tell him.
You wanted one last night.
Joel kissed you, languid and soft, his hands roamed your naked and prone body and for the first time, you noticed something. A tent in his pants. A ghost had gotten an erection for you.
“Joel…” You moan, feeling him rutt against you.
“I know, I feel it too.” His voice is husky against your ear, and chills flow throughout your body as you realize what this means. Joel was firm, his body fully here and he was hard. Joel could fuck you.
He went feral after that, yanking down your PJ shorts so fast your barely had time to lift your hips, but it didn’t matter. You spread your legs to welcome to fingers the plumged into your body, absolutly dripping for the man laid beside you. Joel’s breath was hot, growling and grunting as e finger fucks you open, preparing you to take his cock for the first time.
“You’re always s’fucking wet.” He says between sucking kisses on your neck. You didn’t care if he left hickies on you, you were just beyond ecstatic that he was strong enough to leave marks. You wanted him to be with you in some way permanently. “Been wish’n I could feel you since that first day, so sweet, so beautiful, always so ready for my touch.”
You paw at him, groping his body and trying to just get his massive form on top of you. “Need you.” You beg like a needy young thing, like you’d never been fucked properly before, like you needed to be filled and taken and ravaged.
“I got yuh, darl’n…” Joel murmur, rolling over on top of you, his cock heavy- when had his clothes come off?
Knelt before your body, Joel was magnificent. His body was broad, thick, not quick as barrel chested as his brother, he held it more in the shoulders. Down his chest and stomach held scares, fat, and a trail of hair leading down, down, down to where his cock hung thick and leaking and cut. You forgot he was a ghost; he didn’t feel like one, he felt real. He felt here. Tears filled up in your eyes, and Joel leans over, his body covering yours in his cool skin.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He asks in a gentle voice, thumbing away a stray tear. “I hope yuh ain’t scared’a me? Are yuh?”
You’ve never been more sure of saying no in your life. “Ain’t scared.” You whisper. “I just… I love you so much…” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. You did love him. But that wasn’t why you were crying, not really anyway. No, you cried because this was goodbye.
Joel’s eyes, black pupils swallowing the beautiful brown with lust, grew wet themselves as he smiles down at you. “I love you too. So damn much.”
Your nails did into his back, relishing in the firm, solid feel of him. This was real. He was real. “Fuck me, please. Make love to me. I want to feel you, really feel you…”
Plush lips kissed you as he slid inside, a wave of calm relaxed your body, allowing you to take his considerable length inside you. He was big, stretching you open slowly while you accommodate him.
“Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me…” He moans in your ear, desperate like he’s falling apart at one stroke. But he doesn’t. When he fucks you, it’s with more vigor, more energy than you’ve ever felt from a living person, a slap of skin from his hips meeting your thighs, his balls heavy and slapping against your ass, his fingers digging, digging digging so deep inside as you wished he’d bruise you, wished he’d cut you open and crawl inside so he could never leave you, two souls as one. To know and to be known at the deepest level. Souls and bodies barred to each other. Nothing left to hide.
He couldn’t do that, so as Joel slammed his cock into you, you begged for something else. “Mark me.” You whimper, getting a reaction of confusion from your lover, so you take his hand and dig his nails into your tender hips. “I need to know this is real. All of it.” The tears come again when you can see him want to deny you. “This isn’t forever, you know this can’t before but I- Joel I need something to be forever! We can’t get married, you can’t leave me pictures or presents or- or kids, Joel, I need to be able to remember you.”
His movements slow. “Oh, pretty baby…” He murmurs lowly. “I’ll give anything if it means you can’t forget me.” he kisses you deeply, sucking in your tongue and before he pulls away he nips your lip. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
But nothing of Joel could be too much.
A shape gasp as he dug into you, left hand bracing himself on the bed as he never stopped fucking you, rolls of pleasure coured your body like it had tha first night, swirling over your clit and dragging you screaming to the edge. And screaming you were.
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You shout so loud you don’t care who hears you. Half the town thinks you’re fucking Tommy anyway. Don’t stop fucking you, don’t stop marking you, don’t, don’t, don’t go.
You could keep him to yourself. Tell Ellie and Tommy you lied, or that he went away and you can’t see him any more. Anything so that he doesn’t get what he needs, that he stays with you forever.
He’s impossibly deep inside, but in your leaking, dripping channel and into your hip. The cut of his nails goes further than they should go, but you don’t question it. Instead, you focus on the feeling of him marking your flesh, of him making your insides as his as he cums deep in your stomach. Your cunt pulses around him as your draw out whatever he’s filling you with, you don’t care. It’s him.
“More, more” You cry into his shoulder, but he’s already slowing his thrusts.
“I’m as deep as I can go, baby…” He stays bottomed out inside you, but his hands withdrawal from your side as you come down. His bloody hand cups your face, dripping with your own warmth.
You sob against his cold skin, Joel wrapping you into a hug as the overwhelming emotion of what happened floods you, and it’s too much. You need more, but it’s not him deeper, not him scaring you, and not him filling you up.
It’s more time.
*
You wake up with blood on your face and your wounds cleaned and bandaged, with Joel’s body gone, as it usually is in the morning. It took until the afternoon for him to appear again.
“Sorry baby.” He apoligized, hugging you. “I dunno why I can’t control coming better.” He poked your side, and you knew he meant a double entendre but you didn’t have it in you to laugh.
“It’s okay. Last night used a lot. You probably needed to rest.”
“Yeah…” He touched the bandage he’d put on your hip with soft intent. “How you feel’n bout this?”
You smile. “Great. But Joel…” You turn around to face him, his face frowning with worry. “I gotta tell you something… I told Tommy about you…” Before he has a chance to ask questions, you spill it out. “And he went and found Ellie, she’s hear. I think… I think if you reconcile with her, with Tommy, once the air is cleared… you can move on.”
For a long moment, he stares at you, unmoving, unblinking, frozen as the picture that used to hang on your door. Then he speaks. “You know… that means I can’t see you again, right.”
Damn the tears the spring forth, damn the well of emotions overflowing your body, a trickle of a leak in the damn, then it cracks, and it all breaks. You begin to sob in his arms. “I know, I know… but it’s not right for me to keep you here! You- you said it’s dark, and you’re scared.”
“I ain’t scared when I’m with you…”
“But you won’t always be with me! I need to help you move on! It’s unnatural, it’s wrong, you need to be with Sarah, you need to be at peace knowing Sarah and Tommy love you, that they forgive you!”
He lets you cry, holding you close in strong arms as he realized what was happening. He’d see Ellie again. You were willing to give him up just so he could get his happy end.
His voice in your ear.
“Ellie.”
*
She was skeptical, understandingly. Pretty, short, in her 20’s with brown hair cropped into a pixie and looking annoyed. She sat next to Tommy with her arms crossed and practically glaring at you.
“I’m gonna need more proof than some golf joke.”
“It was enough to get you here, wasn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes. “I owed Tommy for every fucking time he saved my damn life, that’s why I’m here.” She turned to her uncle. “We’re even, by the way.”
“Sure as shit are.” He sighs, then looks at you. “He here?”
You gesture to the couch. “Yeah he’s sitting right- hey!”
Ellie swung her hand over where you said Joel was sitting, doing nothing but annoying Joel who tried in vein to smack her away, telling her to cut the shit.
“I don’t fucking feel anything.”
“That’s not how it works Ellie!” Tommy flicked her arm. “Relax.”
With a huff, she crossed her arms again. “Fine.”
Tommy looked to you, then to Joel, then back to you. “Tell her something only Joel would know.”
When you turn to Joel, he’s looking at Ellie with sadness. She looks different, a lot older, yet she’s still Ellie to him. He doesn’t turn to you. ‘David.’ He instructs, and you turn to her.
“Do you know a David?” And suddenly her skin blanches. Ever so slightly, she’s shaking, but then she turns to Tommy. “Did Joel fucking telling you that!?”
From beyond Tommy’s protests that he doesn’t know who Daivid is, did she mean David Turner, who was a local here, or David Sanchez, who died last month in a raid? Joel insists he’d never tell that to anyone, but Ellie can’t hear him.
You try to calm them. “He says he was someone you met after leaving Jackson the first time, that you did the right thing by killing him.”
“Yeah! I fucking did!”
“He says if he goes to hell, David is the first person he’s finding.”
She stops, information processing in her head that there was no way Joel wold have told whoever David was to Tommy. “David tried to rape me when I was 14.” She grits out. “I stabbed him to death and let his body burn up.”
Tommy turns to her, horrified but doesn’t speak.
You nod. “Good.”
And then, she sinks into the couch. “Whenever I had nightmares… Joel always told me David was the first person he’d find in hell. He was convinced he was going there.”
You chuckle. Yeah that sounds like Joel. “He loves you both very, very much… and the uncertainty is what’s keeping him here. I need to help him move on.”
“So what? You’re some sort of fucking medium?”
“No, I’ve never had anything like this happen before but… He started appearing to me. Little touches, cold spots, breezes… then he started moving things, hearing his voice…. Now I can see him, he’s as clear as you are, honestly.”
Tommy speaks now. “He’s gotta know-” He tries to turn to where you said Joel was, but you can tell he’s struggling to talk to a brown cushion. “You gotta know we love you, don’t know? How can you doubt that?”
‘Tell him I do. But tell him… I don’t know if he forgives me.’
“Joel knows you both love him, but that’s not why he’s stuck. He needs to know you forgive him.”
Ellie is staring sone faced at a wall, but Tommy is looking down at his hands now, this seems easier. “Joel… those things we did… it’s been a long time. I was angry, yeah, I fucking hated you for a while but…” He shakes his head, silver streaks shimmering in the deep brown of his hair. “I got Walker now and… after he was born man, I think I got it. The things we did to survive… you were willing to do some of the worst shit out there, damning your own soul to save me. I’d do the same for my kid, if I needed to.”
‘But I shouldn’t have made you do any of it, Tommy.’
“Joel feels bad that he made you participate.”
“You didn’t make me do fuck’n shit, brother. I was a grown ass man, even if you still thought of me as a reckless teenager. I made my choices, and I understand why you made yours. You lost your baby, I know damn well you couldn’t take lose’n your brother either. I forgive you, but you also gotta forgive yourself, brother.”
Ellie pipes up. “I get it too, Joel. I told you that night, I didn’t know if I could forgive you… telling you I couldn’t… but… UUGHHHH!” She slumps down, covering her face. “Joel I was angry! I was angry and I was stupid but I was a teenager! I was just- just a kid who had these grand schemes of changing the world! But we don’t know if it could’ve worked. But I forgive you, Joel. I was always gonna forgive you, even before you went and fucking left me! I don’t know why I had to do that, why i treated you the way I did-”
‘You were a teenager, that’s normal-’
“But I think about it, every single day I think about it and what I should've said and done better but I get it now. I don’t know what you’ve been told but I got my kid now. I know you’re old man brain is probably trying to work out how two women had a baby-”
Joel laughs, and so does Ellie.
“But it’s Jesse’s. Dina got pregnant before Jesse and her broke up and he… he died. But I’ve been raising him with her the last few years… She took me back… You ask me on the porch that night if she treats me good and Joel…” Ellie sighs, smiling. “She really does.”
‘Tell ‘er I’m glad. That I always liked her, and I wanna know the kids name.’
“Joel says he doesn’t blame you for being mad at him, or how you talked to him. He says he’s glad Dina and you are happy. What’s the babies name?”
Ellie grins, pride in her eyes. “The baby is almost 4 now. His name is JJ. Jesse Joel.”
Tear fill up Joel’s eyes, fatherly love overwhelming him and for a moment, you think how sweet this is, how nice. Then you notice he’s not as clear as he was before.
“Joel!” You rush to his side and take his hand, kneeling at the couch. “Joel, I think it worked… you’re fading…” You try to grip his hand, as if holding on tighter would keep him here with you, keep him ground in this world. Without him, you weren’t sure what you’d do with your life, who you’d talk to or confide in…. But you knew, you knew above all you’d miss him. There would never be another Joel.
‘Please-’ He sounds desperate now, scared even. ‘One more time, tell them I love them, I just- I love them so much fucking much.’
Through your sobs, you relay the message. “He needs you to know how much he loves you guys. He talks about you all the time, he- you’re everything to him.” You see Ellie and Tommy holding hands, Ellie crying and Tommy looking close.
“We love you, Joel. All of us.” Ellie says, to nowhere in particular.
‘And the kids. Walker and- fuck I ain’t never met JJ but I love him too. If, if there’s a heaven I’m gonna…’ His words start to fade, but you know what he’s saying. His strength is going fast, Joel letting go and passing on, but even still his body shook. He was scared. If there was a heaven, Joel was going, but he wasn’t sure about that.
“He says he loves Walker and JJ, he’s gonna watch over them in heaven”
That breaks Tommy, who lets the tears come now as he takes your hand too, squeezing it tight.
You look up at your lover. “I love you, Joel. I’m always gonna love you, always gonna remember you. It’s gonna be okay, I promise you. We’re gonna be alright, we’re doing okay. You can let go now. It’s okay to let go. There’s no one left you need to protect.. we’re safe.”
Even though he’s fading away Joel looks into your eyes. He can’t speak, his strength fading, but it’s all communicated through those eyes that say so much. One last time, he cups your cheek, and the hand that isn’t holding Tommy’s brushes over the cold fingers, feeling liquid and unstable again. There’s fear in his eyes, mixed with that tender love, but then something changes in him.
Joel looks forward, past you, Tommy and Ellie and onto something else, something more. He smiles. ‘I see her’
All his fear his gone, and his face is peaceful.
For the final time, a breeze rustles your hair, and Tommy and Ellie see it.
Joel is gone, and all you can do is sob into his couch.
*
When it finally subsides you feel numb. Ellie and Tommy have joined you on the floor, the three of you talking about the experience you shared together, something no one will ever believe.
“His last words were, ‘’I see her’....”
Tommy whispers Sarah’s name, and you nod.
“He’s with her now. He’s a peace. I know a better place is a cliche, but…” Ellie wipes her tears. “We all know how much he missed her.”
Everyone nods solemnly, and for a while, you stay there, talking about Joel, memories and his jokes and his cooking. It was nice to share this secret with other, and suddenly you felt less alone in it. They believed your stories of the ghost in your walls, and they liked hearing the knew things he told you. You liked learning more of his past.
Eventually, everyone had to get back to their families. You were alone, but you didn’t feel lovely. Something had shifted, a closeness to Ellie and Tommy that didn’t scare you the way human connection used to. Maybe you would go to the mess hall, see some movies. Your patrol partner was quiet, but nice. Tommy was still around, and Ellie and Dina decided to pack up their things and return, wanting JJ to have friends. It was going to be okay, and as the sun set on the day, somehow you felt it rise on your life. A new, beautiful world of opportunities for friendship and love was out there.
You stared in the mirror, butt naked, feeling strangely open and vulnerable despite being alone for the first time in months.
It all felt surreal, something that seemed impossible, that went against every logical explanation.
But when you took off the bandage on your hip to change it, there they were, clear as day. 4 crescent fingernail cuts deep into your skin, something that would scar forever.
No matter what happened, you’d always carry these with you, proof that Joel and your love for him was real.
I cried pretty good writing tht end, knowing its my goodbye. I want yall to know I love each and every reader so so so so much. You mean the world to me. every kind word lives on in me forever. I hope you'll stay for my other writing, but if not, thats okay! I wih all of you the best.
Please be kinder to each other. the fanfic writers do this for free, they do not deserve the things they've experienced here. It is a beautiful world out there.
Trust me, it feels way better to send anon love rather than anon hate. I wont be writing tlou for a minute but ill return with a tommy series !!!!
follow @romana-after-dark for dark content and @riley-blue-byron for upcoming original works!
So long, and thanks for all the fish <3
reblogs are greatly appriciated, would make a nice send off <3
@princessanglophile @missladym1981 @goodwithcheese @dancinglotusbud @glitterymanboy @koshkaj-blog @sixhours @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @fandxmslxt69 @miraclesabound
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#tlou fanfiction#the last of us hbo#tlou 2#tlou 2 spoilers#tlou spoilers#ghost joel#joel#joel and ellie#ellie williams#joel and tommy#tommy miller#joel smut#joel miller tlou#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#joel miller fanfic#post tlou#jackson joel#ghost!joel#joel miller one shit#halloween#halloween fic#joel miller halloween
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ME AND THE DEVIL ,
- HALLOWEEN SPECIAL
Dealer!Ellie x fem!Reader
WARNING!!: pure sloppy mess, Ellie is kinda (very) mean, wlw, parties, protective Ellie, INTOXICATION, SEXUAL ACTS UNDER THE INFLUENCE, TIPSY READER, HIGH ELLIE, slight bratty reader, pussy eating (r!recieving), degrading, praising, pet-names, getting caught, ect.
NOT PROOFREAD
“Cmon baby, cum for me. Be a good girl f’me.”
That was all you needed, the sounds ripping from your mouth grew more desperate, even louder, you trying to reach your high as soon as you could.
You were gripping onto the back of her head, your knuckles turning white from the strong grasp you had on your girlfriends hair, tears were streaming down your face, and you gasped for air with each breath.
In a split second, the door that was previously rattling swung open with full force and crashed against the wall beside the frame, sending the door rattling forward.
“Oh fuck!”
Ellie and you had been invited to a typical Halloween party. Well, Ellie had been invited.
Many frat boys had been privately messaging the woman any and all time of day, for a whole week, begging her to turn up to the party, purely for her weed.
In all fairness, it was the perfect time and place for Ellie to deal, so why wouldn’t she go?
She mentioned the party to you, which you immediately agreed to, loving the opportunity to dress up for Halloween.
When it came to the day, you had got your girlfriend up bright and early so you could both prepare, even though the party was late at night. However, you couldn’t contain your excitement.
You full handily admit that you had gone overboard with the costumes and with one glance at Ellie, anyone would agree. The woman wore a black dress shirt, paired with black jeans, but you had painted her whole body a deep red colour from head to toe. She also wore a pair of devil horns, and even added some smoky black eyeliner to complimented her look.
The woman acted like you painting her was the worst thing to possibly occur, throwing a fit about how it will stain, or she will paint everything red by simply taking a step. All you replied with was a roll of your eyes or a snarky comment.
Your outfit wasn’t as extreme. You wore a white dress and a halo, along with a wide variety of gold jewellery and pearls. Although, the dress you wore did little to cover you, which was evident when Ellie was pulling it down every two seconds.
When the both of you arrived at the party, Ellie immediately found her spot. She sat down on a couch, that was shoved against a wall in a far end of the room, and she sat her backpack between her feet.
You stood beside her for a few moments, before large groups of men and women started to crowd your girlfriend, begging for a little of anything. You let out a puff of air, annoyed that sweaty men were pushing you aside in order to get in line for some weed.
With a pout, you had made your way to the makeshift bar to pour yourself a drink. Your measures were extreme, pouring a whole cup of alcohol with a dash of mixer.
You gulped down the drink the second it was made, grimacing at the burn it left, before pouring another drink, which was not as strong.
Very quickly, you made your way to the dance floor, and found Jesse and Dina, who were close friends of you and your girlfriend.
You busied yourself with the couple, and for most of the night, the three of you were going back and forth between the dance floor and the makeshift bar. You would grab drinks for Ellie now and then, making quick trips to her, handing her the drink and asking for many kisses. Although, the both of you would get interrupted almost every time, by yet another person asking for a smoke.
Each time you would walk away with a huff and a stumble in your step, heading straight back to the dance floor.
Without a doubt you were tipsy. It was obvious to those who knew you by the way your mood changed, and you had a wobble in your stance.
It hadn’t even been five minutes since you saw Ellie, but you shouted to Dina over the blaring music, who was standing directly next to you, that you needed to go and see your girlfriend. The woman merely nodded, and turned her attention back to her boyfriend.
You stumbled out of the crowd, scoffing and scowling at a man who tried approaching you. You felt sticky and you felt tired. You also felt upset, because you had hoped to have fun with your girlfriend at the party, but instead you spent it third wheeling the other couple present.
When you got the couch, you threw your body down on the furniture with a huff. Your head hit Ellie’s shoulder, and your legs crashed into her leg. She let out a small scoff at your careless action, before speaking once more.
She was mid conversation with the host of the party, so you decided to just stay quiet, but the both of them could tell you were aggravated. Ellie simply rolled her eyes and continued conversation with the male, thanking him for the invite and complimenting how lively the party was.
They continued to speak for what felt like forever to you, but in reality was only a few minutes. When he left, Ellie turned her head towards you, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Problem?”
You grumbled and shuffled closer to your girlfriend. She lifted an arm, allowing you to get comfortable, before draping the same arm over your shoulder. Ellie planted a kiss on your forehead, leaving a faint red mark behind.
“Jus’ miss you elsss”
The woman couldn’t help but chuckle, the slur in your speech was hilarious, but also cute in her eyes.
“I’m right here mama”
You whined and rested a hand on her inner thigh, slowly caressing the area with your thumb. Ellie hummed and although the woman was already manspreading, she spread her legs further.
“Yes you are here idiot, but you have been sooooo busy, every time i wanted a kiss some dirty, sweaty boy would push me out of the way so he could give a kiss to a stupid joint, which you stink of, by the way. s’ not fair, wanted to spend the night with my girlfriend n’ I have been spending it squashed between Dina and Jesse all night! They even invited me to a three way kiss Ellie!”
The woman frowned and clicked her tongue. With the hand that wasn’t resting on your arm, she grabbed your chin and squeezed it between her fingers and thumb.
“First of all, don’t fucking talk to me like that, who do you think you are? Second, I pre warned you before we came that I will be selling all night, incase you wanted to complain like a brat, which you just did. Third, it doesn’t hurt to ask. You could’ve said you wanted to spend more time with me here, and I would’ve dropped everything just for you. Got that?”
With a closer look at Ellie, you could tell by her bloodshot eyes that she had also been smoking. You whimpered and nodded your head, now feeling guilty for the way you exploded.
“So?”
The woman tapped her foot against the hardwood floor, waiting for a response from you, who began to ache in her hold.
“I am sorry, jus’ wanna spend time with you”
The woman nodded and removed the grasp from your jaw, causing you to then open and close your mouth a number of times, stretching it out to relieve the ache.
You felt the two hands of your girlfriend grasp onto your waist, before your whole body was shifted onto her lap. You sat up straight and look down at Ellie, who was staring up at you with a smirk.
“You look so good ma”
The comment caused a crimson tint to sore across your cheeks. You turned your gaze away from Ellie, in an attempt to relieve your flustered feeling although, Ellie let out a tut at the movement, not agreeing with you facing away.
Her roaming hands rested comfortably on the flesh of your ass, which was anything but covered by the thin fabric of your dress.
You caught a few people standing by staring at the both of you, whispering to one another. It caused you to grumble and turn your attention back to Ellie.
The woman only chuckled, catching the people in the corner of her eye.
“Not enjoying the attention baby?”
You only responding with a shake of your head, causing Ellie to fake a pout. She didn’t care who was around, or how many people were around, she would do what she wanted to you without a care in the world.
You rolled your eyes at what she was doing, which your girlfriend very clearly disproved of. She lifted her hand from your ass, before landing a harsh slap on the skin.
Your whole body jolted forward and you let out a whimper in pain, which the woman paid no mind to.
You watched as she sent a wink towards the group a standing by, before she rose to her feet, sending you stumbling to your own.
You watched as the woman packed away her many bags of weed nuggets, pre-rolls, and god knows what else, with haste. You couldn’t help but knit your eyebrows together, confused on why the woman was packing up.
She slung her backpack over her shoulder and held out a hand to you, which you very quickly excepted. The woman pulled you from the stuffy corner and started to head her way to the dance floor.
“are we going to dance?”
You had to shout over the blaring music, that grew louder with every step you took. Through the many people you were pushing through, you could see the dealer should her head and only reply with a chuckle.
“Pleaseee els”
You whined pathetically in her ear, your head resting against the woman’s shoulder. Her slender hands were gripping onto your ass, grinding you back and forth against her jean clad thigh.
“Shut it. Cut it with the begging and take what you are given. Remember who is in charge here.”
Your pussy was throbbing, its juices dampening the fabric beneath. Your body was covered in red smudges and handprints, whereas the paint on your girlfriend’s exposed skin became patchy and faded.
The white bedsheets were stained with the red substance, from Ellie’s constant shifting or her movements prior.
You had been grinding on the woman’s muscular thigh for around half hour, your body growing tired, and the ache in your core only getting worse.
“I-I’ll be good els, promise! Do anything you want, please please!”
The woman scoffed and stopped what she was doing. You raised your head to look at her and she spoke, staring directly in your eyes.
“You? Good? Don’t piss me off.”
Your eyes welled with tears, and your girlfriend only squeezed the fat of your ass. You held onto the fabric of your shirt and continued to beg.
“I will be good! I will els I promise! Pretty please, anything you want I will do I swear Ellie.”
Ellie cocked an eyebrow, and stared directly at you for a few moments, before your position was flipped. You were now lying on the stained bed, and Ellie hovered over you. You hummed in satisfaction, and spread your legs for Ellie to slot in between them.
“Made such a mess on my thigh baby, look at it.”
You felt her finger and thumb wrap around your chin, angling your head to stare directly at the thigh positioned between your thighs. You nodded your head and Ellie merely chuckled.
The painted woman kissed across your neck, slowly trailing them down to your belly button. With each kiss, a red mark from her chin or cheek was left behind.
She shifted in between your legs, her muscular arms wrapping around your thighs, and her head millimetres away from your cunt. She planted a peck over your clothed clit, causing a shiver to rush through your spine.
She hummed and panted another kiss over the clothed bundle, this time it being sloppy. She kissed, sucked and licked at your clit, teasing the nerves that were pulsing under the contact. Salvia was pooling in the corners of the woman’s mouth as she continued to suck on your clit.
You through your head back at the sensation, and you couldn’t help but buck your hips each time her lips came into contact. There were tears brimming in your eyes due to pleasure, and droplets of sweat were building up on your forehead.
Ellie pulled away for a mere moment. She lifted her head to look at the sight of you before her, whilst her tough hands tugged your underwear from your body.
When the fabric slipped from your ankles, she stuffed them into her back pocket, and dove straight back into the position she was in before.
She once again kissed at your clit, the action making you clench your thighs around her head. Ellie chuckled and pulled your thighs apart, before she teased the outside of your cunt with the tip of her tongue.
You couldn’t hold back the moan that fell from your lips, you felt like you were in heaven, which is ironic considering your constume.
Ellie got bored of the tease within moments, her tongue darted into your cunt and she instantly started eating you out like a rabid beast.
Constant moans ripped from your throat, you listened to the sound of her sloppy mouth and your juices squelching, only turning you on more. A frequent grunt would fall from her lips, her enjoying the sweaty moment more than you.
Her hands were tight around your thighs, squeezing the fat every time you jolted. The state you were both in was obscene.
Your hands quickly found their way to the back of her head, grabbing fistfuls of her hair and pushing her in further, gasping at the pure bliss you felt.
Your moans only grew louder, already feeling the knot tie in your lower stomach. You listened to the woman slurp everything she could, she had no shame, which honestly you loved. She never tiptoed around anything, just got straight to the point.
Over the mixed sounds of Ellie and you, you couldn’t hold back hear the rattle of the doorknob, although you didn’t pay it much mind, too busy chasing your high.
It stopped after a few tries of whoever was behind the door, them accepting the fact they were not getting in.
A guttural moan escaped your mouth, and a cold sweat rushed from your head to your toes. You were moments away from cumming all over your girlfriend’s face.
“O-oh fuck Ellie! I’m so close! So soooo close!”
You whined aloud, begging your girlfriend for a release. Ellie spoke muffled, refusing to lift her head from your pussy.
“Cmon baby, cum for me. Be a good girl f’me.”
That was all you needed, the sounds ripping from your mouth grew more desperate, even louder, you trying to reach your high as soon as you could.
You were gripping onto the back of her head, your knuckles turning white from the strong grasp you had on your girlfriends hair, tears were streaming down your face, and you gasped for air with each breath.
In a split second, the door that was previously rattling swung open with full force and crashed against the wall beside the frame, sending the door rattling forward.
“Oh fuck!”
Your head shot up at the sudden bang, locking eyes with Jesse who was staring at the both of you with wide eyes. All colour quickly drained from the males face, and you could see the head of Dina pop out from behind his shoulder.
Although, before you could say anything, you were quickly drawn away by your orgasm washing over you. The sound that left your mouth was inhumane. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your whole body shook with the intense feeling.
Ellie paid no mind to those who burst through the door, you wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t know they were there. She continued eating you out like it was her last meal, causing shocks to course through your body, creeping towards the feeling of overstimulation.
“E-Ellie!”
The woman only grumbled, refusing to lift her head, in fact trying to bury herself deeper in your cunt. You tugged at the woman’s hair, trying to pull her away, but she only grew agitated, landing a harsh smack on the thigh.
You felt truly humiliated. Your head crashed against the pillow beneath you and you let out a cry of pure embarrassment.
Your girlfriend huffed and lifted her head, wondering what the fuck was going on. Your lips were puffy and swollen, her cheeks were flushed with a bright red, and a mix of juices and saliva dripped from her chin.
She stared at your sprawled out state for a for moments, proud of her work, before turning her attention to the couple in the doorway.
She wasn’t embarrassed, nor shocked or humiliated. In fact, she was furious she got interrupted.
“Are you gonna just stand there and watch? Or are you gonna get the fuck out bro?”
You watched as Jesse jumped, before quickly spinning around and clashing against Dina, causing a scoff from his girlfriend.
Dina shifted out of his way with a role of her eyes, before he grabbed her by the hand and tried to pull her away from the scene as soon as he could.
Dina, similar to Ellie, had no care about what she just walked into, instead she was amazed.
“Jesse, why can’t you eat me out like that.”
A/N : my apologies it is very rushed 😕 I wanted to finish as soon as I could, I hope you enjoy 🥹
#the last of us#tlou#ellie williams#ellie#abby the last of us#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x you#ellie smut#ellie willams x reader#ellie x fem reader#dina tlou#tlou fic#tlou hbo#tlou part 2#tlou2#tlou fanfiction#tlou game#dina the last of us#jesse tlou#✧﹐pearls work.🎀﹒‹𝟹#dina nolastname#Jesse x Dina#ellie x dina#fanfic#halloween#halloween special#halloween fic
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Darkside Disney: Anna and Elsa
The Darkside tale of these two sisters begins when Anna, with so many years of confusion and hurt, decides to take Elsa up on her hurdled order of “then leave”
She turns on her heel then and there, never reaching out for Elsa, never causing Elsa to unleash her powers. She decides that if Elsa wants to close a door between them, she’ll finally stop knocking.
Anna leaves with Hans back to the Southern Isles that night
They're married onboard the ship, and Hans spends the honeymoon and proceeding three years of marriage carefully stoking Anna smoldering hurt into a true fire of resentment
By the time word comes from Southern Isles spies that the Queen of Arendelle has begun to show signs of madness, Anna is more than ready to step up and take the throne. She might have been content to stay in the Southern Isles before, but as her husband points out, Elsa is unfit, Elsa never engages with her people, they’d be much better under someone who actually cares about Arendelle. After all, with Elsa unwed Anna is the next heir, she’s the one who’ll be carrying on the bloodline. Don’t the people of Arendelle deserve security, attention, love? Doesn’t she deserve all that as well?
The people of Arendelle would indeed welcome their exiled princess as their new queen, but things aren't that simple…
After Anna left, Elsa tried to do her best to run the kingdom, to make the memory of her parents proud. But her powers continue to grow stronger, and stronger. The stresses of rule begin to take their toll, and she’s only able to keep her powers hidden by once more withdrawing from the public eye.
When she was still under age, this could be overlooked as the Regency Council trying to protect the royal heirs, but now her reluctance to engage with her people begins to rankle and sour the populace’s opinion of their new queen
And things only get worse when, in the third year of her reign, on top of her growing powers, Elsa begins to hear things…
A voice, calling to her, begging her to just let go, to unleash her powers and step into the unknown
And the harder she fights to conceal her powers, the stronger they—and the voice—become
The strain begins to be too much, the cracks in Elsa’s frozen facade begin to show, and whispers grow of a madness plaguing the Queen
And finally, the day comes that brings the sisters face to face again. Anna demanding that Elsa step down, she has the people’s support, she has the support of Han’s navy connections. She has more right the throne then Elsa has, Elsa who never cared for the people, who never cared for anyone.
“Anna that’s not true! I care—“
“You never cared! You shut me out, you shut the world out! You left me to bury our parents alone! So don’t stand there and claim to care now Elsa! Life’s too short to waste on hearing excuses from someone as cold hearted as you!”
It’s all too much. Her powers, the voices, the hatred in her sister’s eyes. Something in Elsa’s mind—in her heart—breaks. All her life she’s tried not too feel, and now she can’t stop feeling. All the heartache, confusion, anger, loneliness, fear
It all comes crashing out, a dam bursting over, a storm long healed at bay now barreling down in full force
Elsa flees in the cover of the onslaught of snow and ice, barely aware of what she’s doing, just knowing she can’t bear to see Anna, her only family, looking at her like that. All she seems to know how to do is run, and run, and run. Away from the voices, away from the pressure, away from Anna
She doesn’t realize she’s trapped Arendelle in an eternal winter, one that begins to spread out across the land, barely held back by the sea
She doesn’t realize the initial blast has killed the man her sister loved
Anna takes the throne of a kingdom in turmoil as a widow, her own heart broken, bleeding, freezing over under the weight of all that she has lost. The only thing keeping her going is trying to save her people—and the child she carries
The storm over Arendelle never breaks though, and the entire kingdom is forced to flee wherever they or face becoming another frozen statue in the growing wasteland, where nothing walks but the wailing form of their former Queen.
A figure with skin covered in frost, hair whipped about in the perpetual storm, tears frozen to her cheeks. Forever trying to run from the voices calling calling calling to her
Anna returns to the Southern Isles in disgrace, her kingdom and husband lost, her in-laws having no interest in harboring her now she has nothing to offer them. So they send her and her child—so sickly, so frail, never having overcome the cold they were born into—off to the farthest and poorest of their Isles. And there, her heart becomes as frozen as if her sister really had struck it all those years ago…
DisneyVerse After Credits under the Cut
One year later, Anna finds herself approached by a strange wandering soldier, who offers her the power to regain her kingdom, to give her child the life they deserve, to gain vengeance on the one who caused all of this…if she’s willing to make a deal
#had to bring Voland in of course#no way he wouldn’t jump on getting the sister of the 5th spirit on his side#things are likely going to go Very Badly for the world as a whole in this Darkside version of my Frozen 3 fic#as there’s no sane Elsa to stop Voland from regaining his full power#heck the only person likely to try and stand against him at his full power is Zhan Tiri who’s probably possessing Darkside Rapunzel#Darkside Disney#frozen#frozen 3#elsa frozen#anna frozen#Anna x Hans#elsa and anna#elsa of arendelle#anna of arendelle#halloween#my art#Disney#disney fanart#Darkside Disney Princesses#frozen 2
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Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!
Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...
***
"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"
"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.
"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"
Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.
"Doesn't matter anymore".
Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.
He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.
Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask".
Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?'
"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.
He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.
"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"
Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".
He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.
His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.
"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?"
Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.
"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?"
Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged".
***
Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.
"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window.
Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?"
Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"
"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?"
"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.
Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night.
'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'
Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack.
The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb.
***
Steve beats him to the house.
He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street.
Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.
Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake.
"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?"
Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.
No shoes? Fucking rich people man.
Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"
He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything.
If anything, Eddie has more questions.
Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".
Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?
He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot.
Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.
He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.
Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue.
Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.
"You said something about outside?"
***
By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--
Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.
He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.
"You good with a joint this evening my good King?"
He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.
Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?"
Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.
"Major Tom?"
Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone.
"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"
Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".
He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".
"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.
Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him".
Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.
"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.
"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt".
Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.
And Wayne would never hurt him.
Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.
"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".
"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.
"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse".
"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.
"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…"
Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?"
"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".
Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"
Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday".
Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.
"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"
"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos.
Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end.
"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again.
Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.
"Steve? STEVE?!"
The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers.
"Dustin?"
A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.
"I need your help".
Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson
Part Five
and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic
#stranger things#stranger things season 2 au#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve and nancy breakup#what would have happened if eddie had been at tinas halloween party?#this fic is going places apparently#eddie is having all sorts of complicated feelings about steve here#i will never get tired of halloween party breakup aus#you can pry them from my cold dead fingers#afewproblems writes#cw marijuana#crossing into the canon upside down stuff now#lets goooooooooo#dustin meets eddie early#eddie is listening to steve talk and just thinking ???#like what is wrong with this boy there are too many things to count#cw bullying#billy hargrove is his own warning#I might rename this Castles Crumble based on that TSwift vault song#such a steve song am I right?
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I just did my Predator movies marathon for Halloween and i gotta say.... I get it. I 100% get it. I mean, i was already kinda down bad for these aliens without prior knowledge because cool alien design and nice fics make my brain go brrr but now that i do.... Yeah, this brainrot is about to get much worse. Lord, help me...
#yautja#random thoughts#predator franchise#predator series#the predator#predator 2#predators#alien vs predator#prey#halloween#movie marathon#Happy Halloween 🎃#Bring me my google Docs!!#i got some new chapter fics to write#the power of badass (plus gay) aliens compels me!!!!
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Can I get some dead velvet cake with coca-cola for our dear boy Soap?
halloween menu - bakery menu
the halloween bakery is open until nov 2nd! thank you to everyone who has submitted! while they have mostly been formula one orders, i do accept call of duty too! (esp for our beloved mactavish <3)! so thank you and enjoy!!
dead velvet cake: "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!" + coca-cola: costume sex served by john "soap" mactavish (call of duty)!!
cw: smut/pwp, (failed) costume sex, couples costume, fun & filthy, established relationship, cowgirl position
"johnny." you said as you looked at your costume, "i think you're supposed to be the plug and i'm supposed to be the outlet.."
johnny looked down at his costume and turned a little. he replied, "nah, bonnie. this one makes my arms look good." he laughed as he flexed a little for dramatic effect.
you rolled your eyes and wrapped your arms around your boyfriend of the last several years. you leaned up to kiss him on the lips and he happily melted into it. you didn't often spend halloween together (because of johnny's line of work), but when you could. it was fun.
you were both dressed in the dumbest couples costume you could find. you were the plug, while johnny was the outlet. and as you handed out candy to the kids who stopped by, johnny felt his gaze linger on your bend as you slightly bent over. the costume wasn't the erotic part, it was what he knew was underneath.
his girl was quite the looker. as he nursed the beer on the couch while you gushed over the kids' costumes. he smiled to himself, you looked adorable. you closed the door and turned back to your lover.
he smiled at you as you walked over to the couch and sat down beside him. he reached over and took a hold of your thigh. he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. his kiss was wet and loud which made you giggle a little.
"what has gotten into you." you said as you patted your lover on his strong chest. johnny was an affectionate boyfriend. he loved getting his hands all over you.
he beamed at you and replied, "what, can't i find my girl beautiful?"
you laughed, "i'm dressed like a plug, not really jerk off material." you yelped when johnny maneuvered you into his lap and beamed up at you with a big smile. you held onto his shoulders as you straddled his waist.
he rubbed up against you. while the costume wasn't made for sex, he'd happily be your plug any day. you could feel the erection through both of your costumes.
"johnny..."
johnny shrugged, "ya could be in a wet paper bag and i'd still find a way." he held onto your hips, "far too beautiful. lookin' better than anyone else."
you kissed his face and said, "you're trying to butter me up, handsome."
johnny replied, "next year you'll be a stick of butter and i'll make sure i can fuck you in the costume." he beamed at you and you pinched his cheeks playfully, which only made him laugh.
you held onto his face for a moment, his scratchy facial hair under your touch. you leaned in for a kiss while he held you by the hips. when you broke away, "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!"
johnny looked at you with those big blue eyes and said, "the little ones should be in bed soon. plus, i got something better to snack on than kit kat bars." then licked his lips.
"you're insatiable." you replied, "but i'm not doing it on the couch. not while we have a bed." and you led johnny to the bedroom after you locked the front door to your flat.
the costumes were discarded, johnny made a joke about how you were the hottest plug there ever was. you in return threw your costume at him. which only made the scotsman laugh further.
he was behind you soon after, his strong arms wrapped around you. he kissed at your neck and you moaned loudly at the feeling of him up against you. his hard cock pressed against your lower back.
the thing about johnny being home from combat was, he was insatiable in the bedroom. spending months with other men and without you left him pent up and needy. he needed his mouth, hands and cock on you.
you ended up on the bed soon after with your lover next to you on the bed. you giggled and got up onto his waist. his cock was up against your stomach as you rubbed yourself up against his impressive length. johnny was quite big, in ways that could make your toes curl.
"i want you." he said, those rough hands up against your soft hips, "fuckin' obsessed with ya. better than any treat tonight." he rolled his hips up against you a little and you splayed your hands across his broad, scarred chest.
you giggled, "even better than the sour patch kids?" you groaned when you sank down onto his impressive cock.
he hissed through his teeth and held onto you. he replied, "mmm that's a tough one, hen. you're sweet and they're sour. hard to compare." he rolled his hips a little and felt the leap of pleasure in his chest.
you felt like a dream around him. always had. no matter how quick or how slow the sex was. johnny loved it all, he loved you dearly. you were his bonnie, his hen, the love of his life. you were everything he wanted wrapped up in a cute little bow. he licked his lips as you pressed more of your weight onto him. you could never crush him, no matter your size. but you could sure try, there was no other way johnny would want to go out.
the two of you moved together while you rode him. your nails gently grazed across your fuzzy pecs. he wasn't extremely hairy, but enough that it got you excited. he looked so manly and it made your heart jump. he was a pretty man. beyond handsome with an accent that made you excited all over. no matter how rough it was, it made your core drenched.
johnny was the kind of man to protect his girl. love you till the cows came home and the sun exploded. when he loved someone, he made sure they were deeply loved. you were the apple of his eye and no one else could take his gaze off of you. not even a heavy package of sour patch kids.
"there's my girl." he groaned as he moved against you. his hands tightly on your hips as the two of you moved together. it was hot and intimate. even though you two could map each other's bodies while blindfolded.
"i love you, johnny."
"i love you too, hen. you look really nice on top." he swallowed back a moan, 'ya know i love a women on top." he chuckled as his rough hands explored your skin, "so beautiful. but ya knew that, right? that you're the most beautiful woman this side of the atlantic. possibly the whole world." he groaned against you as the two of you continued your feverish pace.
to be close to johnny was always exciting. months apart at times left you needy for your significant other. to be close to johnny meant feeling an immense warmth from your beloved. your scottish angel. your little daredevil. you beamed at him as you continued to rut against him. you took him amazingly, like a champ. and he sang your praises as you came him finish time after time.
you raked your nails down his hairy chest and continued to move against him. he felt the pounding of want in his ears, the excitement of pleasure as the two of you moved together in heavy thrusts. the bed creaked under the both of you. johnny would have to admit, you looked better without the costume.
maybe next year you should go as mrs. mactavish, but that would be a discussion for later. for now he just felt up your hips and rutted against you. he explored your beautiful curves as he moved against you. he could feel the heat of want in his core as he thrusted up into you. you drove him mad, and he loved it. he loved everything about you.
because you were his whole world.
you didn't last much longer, the feeling of immense pleasure raced through you. you dug your nails into your lover and worked his cock faster until you clenched around him and came. your back arched and you whined.
"that's it." he groaned. he clutched onto you harder and continued to move against you. next time he'll find a different costume to fuck you in, maybe plug and outlet wasn't the best. he finished inside of you and you moaned loudly.
the pleasure rushed through both of you. you felt the fiery heat between you two. eventually you rested against your lover's chest and he threw a heavy arm over you. trapping you against his chest.
you two kissed and johnny smiled against your lips. <3
#bunny writes#halloween bakery#halloween fic#reader insert#soap call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty#soap mw2#soap cod#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#soap smut#soap mactavish#john soap mactavish smut#john soap mctavish smut#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap x reader#john soap mctavish x you#john mactavish smut#john mactavish x reader
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The Vampire and The Vicar
#megaman x#xzero#zerox#rockman x#my art#fanart#megaman#rockman#hello again people who see my artwork#who would've thought final year of college would be busy busy busy#but I got this done!! I hope to get another 2 halloween pieces done before the month is over#honestly I love this idea so much I want to write a fic about it but I have no time or motivation to write lol#So uh imagine a Halloween party at Maverick Hunter HQ and Zero gets a little too into it (followed by X getting a little too into it)
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Stranded Together
Plot: You and San get stranded at the only available motel you can find during a storm. Good news, there's one room left. Bad news, this motel is totally haunted.
Request: 'You're in a hotel with doubles beds, you keep hearing scary noises and end up in the same bed'
Requested by: @tumbleboof
Pairing: Choi San x Gn!Reader (friends to lovers)
Warnings: Creepy content. Mildly suggestive content. (A good mixture of fluff and creepiness.)
A/n: Not my bedroom door creaking open for no reason as I was writing this DX
Words: 2.1k
This really wasn't how you expected your night to end up. You thought you would be on a plane heading home, but instead, you and San were staring at the small eerily empty room of a motel in the middle of God knows where.
Both of you were tired, but the unsettling atmosphere was sending shocks of adrenaline through both of you. You knew you would be awake for most of the night.
It all started with grid-locked traffic that caused you and San to miss the flight with the rest of the boys. Then you made the decision to drive two hours to the next city to get a flight, since no other would be available at your previous location until the next day.
But of course, the weather was not on your side. Halfway there, a storm alert panicked your taxi driver, and instead of ending up at an airport, you ended up at a terrifying motel surrounded by nothing but trees and fields just as the storm started.
The good news in all of this, was that they had an available room. The bad news was of course, that the motel was terrifying and seemed to come right out of every ghost movie you'd ever watched.
Now you and San were walking silently around the small room, wondering if you were going to get any sleep at all tonight. Between the haunting location, the whistling wind, and booming thunder outside, you weren't too sure.
You sat down on the edge of one of the beds, while San sighed and lied down on the other.
"At least the beds are comfy." He mumbled.
You smiled, "Too bad this place is objectively creepy."
He chuckled as he grabbed the remote on the nightstand. "This should help."
Turning on the tv, an unfamiliar show began playing but the sound instantly made the quiet room more comfortable.
"I'm glad I'm not alone though." San said with a smile to you and you chuckled, trying to ignore how your heartbeat picked up.
Of course being alone in this place would be much more terrifying, but you were sure your nervously beating heart may prefer if it had been someone else. But no, it was San, the one person you were head-over-heels for. Who you were now stuck in a room alone with.
You weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. Though, unbeknownst to you, the night would reveal which.
After you both changed into pajamas, you sat in silence as you watched the movie on the TV. There was an unsettling tension hanging between you as you shared nervous looks every time you heard an unfamiliar sound.
Creaks in the hallway, thuds from the closet, even the sound of footsteps on what would be the rooftop.
When a loud clang sounded in the bathroom, you jumped as you looked over at San who was frozen, staring at the darkened bathroom. He slowly met your eyes and you shared a conversation without speaking.
'You check.'
'Why me, you check!'
Reaching out his hand you followed his movements as you played rock, paper, scissors.
As you stared at your flat hand and his two out-stretched fingers, you cursed as you eyed the bathroom.
Slowly getting up with a sigh, you crept towards the bathroom aware of San's eyes following you closely.
Reaching out, you pushed open the ajar door, and the creaking sounds filled the room, sending goosebumps up your arms. Quickly switching on the light your heart jumped, but you were filled with uneasy relief as you saw nothing. In all honesty, you were hoping to find a rat, anything that might explain the noises other than ghosts.
Spotting a clothes hangar on the floor, you picked it up, aware that it had been hanging on the shower rod before.
Stepping out into the room, you showed it to San. "It fell."
"How?" San questioned and you shrugged setting it on the TV stand, trying not to think too much about it.
Lying back down you groaned, "I almost wish we were stranded in the car still."
San chuckled, but he felt the same. He had previously been buzzing with nervous excitement at the idea of sharing a room with you. But he wasn't expecting the creepy motel to steal his thoughts away from you.
Hearing a scratching sound from the closet beside your bed, you jolted up. You groaned as you wiggled around in frustration.
San eyed you before he moved over to one side of his bed, "Hey."
You looked over at him and he patted the bed beside him. You rose your brow and he smiled, "I think we'll both feel better."
"What, if we cuddle?" You asked teasingly, but your heart was racing
He raised his brow and spoke in an even more teasing tone, obviously trying to help lighten the mood. "If you want."
You rolled your eyes but did not reject the idea as you walked over to his bed, crawling in beside him. You kept a few inches between you, not actually cuddling with him. Though, he was secretly disappointed at this.
You brought your knees up to your chest as you tried to focus on the TV again, now acutely aware of Sans presence, and the unfamiliar noises around you.
Your eyes drifted over to the closet again and San leaned closer, "Want me to look this time?"
You jumped at this before hissing, looking over at him, ignoring the proximity of his face. He grinned, amused that he scared you.
"No, it's fine." You said, trying to repress your fear.
"Are you still scared?" He asked, amusement in his tone.
You rolled your eyes, "You're scared too!"
"Am not!" He challenged and you gasped.
"Oh please, you are just as freaked out as I am, admit it!"
Before he could speak, you both froze as the sound of footsteps sounded in the hall.
"Okay, I am." He admitted suddenly and you felt him move a bit closer to you.
You resisted the urge to lean back into his presence for comfort.
You stared at the door and spoke softly, "It's just another guest."
San nodded, "Right."
As the footsteps got louder, they stopped right in front of your door. you and San waited silently. Were they going to knock? Were they looking for their room?
Another moment passed and no noise was heard. You nervously looked over at San, now worried about what the unknown person was going to do.
San rose and you watched with baited breath as he crept as softly as he could to the door before peering through the peep hole.
Stepping away a moment later, he turned to you and his face was blank, but fear was obvious in his eyes. "There's no one out there."
How? You heard the footsteps come, but not leave? Where would they have gone?
"That's not funny." Your voice was obviously shaken.
San just shook his head softly. "I'm not joking."
Suddenly a bright flash filled the room before a clap of thunder shook the walls. Darkness filled the room and you let out a yelp as you jumped back. You heard hurried footsteps before San jumped into the bed, his arms wrapping around you as you heard his own startled breaths.
You gripped onto his arm for a moment before you both relaxed, taking a few breaths.
"Oh my God." You mumbled out as you let out a few deep breaths.
Silence hung in the air for a moment before you both let out nervous laughs.
"That was such bad timing." San mumbled between nervous chuckles, still holding onto you.
"Were you serious? There was no one outside?"
He nodded, "There was no one. Maybe they just walked away really softly?"
"Yeah." You agreed, though doubt was obvious in your tone.
Looking towards San, you could just see his face due to the full-moon light coming through the windows. His face was barely an inch from yours, his breath brushed your skin.
When you spoke, your nose almost brushed his. He felt your breath on his lips and he felt a shiver of temptation crawl through him.
"I'm scared." Your voice was a whisper.
You felt San's grip tighten ever-so-slightly around you. He replied, his voice just as quiet. "Me too. But it's okay, I've got you."
His words, and touch comforted you, and you felt safer than you had all night. He was and always would be a safe place for you, even if he drove your heart crazy.
"Stay here tonight." He mumbled, his nose now brushing yours.
Your heart was beating like crazy and you wondered if he could feel it. But his words confused you.
"What else would I do, find another motel?" You asked softly, almost amused
He let out a soft breathy laugh, before shaking his head. "No, I meant here. In my bed."
Your heart leapt to your throat and your breath hitched. Sharing a room with him was hard enough, but sharing the same bed?
He could sense your reservation and he wondered if it was out of discomfort, or the same fear of temptation and hidden feelings he held.
"Only if you're comfortable. But...I think it might be less frightening. And I would feel better if I knew you were close."
A thousand thoughts rushed though your head as you softly nodded, "Okay."
You stared in silence at each other, his face slowly becoming more visible as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. You thought you saw his eyes flick to your lips and linger for a moment but you felt it might just be your eyes seeing things unclearly.
Slowly, you felt his hands move from around your arms to your waist, and you felt a shiver run up your spine. His breath seemed to brush your face more than before as you wondered if he was inching closer.
As another flash of lightning lit up the room, you jumped, before suddenly freezing as San gripped you close, his lips smashing into yours.
Astonishment and excitement ran through you as you realized he was kissing you. But before you could return the kiss, he was pulling away.
"I'm sorry." The words rushed out, and you felt your heart drop a little.
Your eyes locked as silent hung between you for a moment. Butterflies rushed through you, but so did disappointment at his sudden regret.
"Why are you sorry?" You asked softly, a hint of despondence in your tone he did not miss.
"What?" He felt hope rise in his chest as his heart beat heavily.
He was surprised at his own actions, as he moved without thinking, finally having kissed you like he had been imagining for ages.
"Why are you sorry?" You repeated.
Silence hung in the air for a second as you felt his hands tighten on your waist again.
"I guess I'm not." He mumbled out before you felt his lips meet yours again as he quickly pulled you against his chest.
The kiss became heated as your hands found his neck and hair, your fingers causing a shiver to course through him. His own hands pressed into your skin as he pulled you closer.
Another heated moment passed before you both pulled away, letting out breathy laughs as he rested his forehead against yours. He kissed you again, but pulled away a moment later, not wanting to act on his impulsiveness quite yet. And definitely not here.
"I've been wanting to do that for so long." He breathed out before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
You grinned as you let out a soft giggle. "The feeling's mutual."
"I definitley wasn't expecting this to be how, or where, I admitted it."
You chuckled as you were reminded of your surroundings. Being reminded even more when a bang sounded from the hallway, making you jolt.
You let out a soft gasp as San suddenly pushed you down in the bed before covering the both of you with the sheets. Realizing he was hiding the two of you, you laughed.
He chuckled as he pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you. "There, now we're safe, nothing can get us."
You giggled again as you placed your face against his chest, as he placed his head on yours, pulling you even closer and letting out a contented sigh.
"Can't say it wasn't a unique confession." He mumbled.
"It'll make for a great story." You admitted and he let out a soft laugh.
"A love story or a ghost story?"
"Both?"
He laughed as he nodded his head, pressing a kiss to the top of yours before cuddling you closer. "Both."
xx End xx
General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669
Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @thunderous-wolf
#Choi San x Reader#Choi San/Reader#san x reader#san/reader#ateez x reader#ateez/reader#choi san imagine#choi san fic#ateez fic#ateez imagine#13 days of halloween#ateez halloween fic#choi san halloween fic#choi san x gn!reader#ateez fanfic#san fanfic#13 days of halloween: day 2#ateez halloween#choi san fluff
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🎃👻🔥Halloween Hot Take: 🔥👻🎃
Why does Joel Glicker, Wednesday’s nerd boyfriend from Camp Chippewa in ‘Addams Family Values,’ look like a young Egon Spengler?
#I smell a fic that absolutely no one asked for#seriously tho does anyone else see the resemblance?#he obviously collects spores mold and fungus#egon spengler#wednesday addams#Also nerd kid’s name is Joel Glicker#didn’t know that until I googled it#as many times as I’ve watched that movie#a travesty#addams family#the addams family#addams family values#ghostbusters#ghostbusters 2#ghostbusters afterlife#Egon Spengler ghostbusters#the resemblance is uncanny#halloween#Halloween hot take#spooky movies#spooky season#joel glicker#and just like that a fanfic idea is born#shit I’mma have to make a whole separate post about it
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ganymede's jonsa fic recs (Halloween edition):
Death and the Dancer, by @sibyldisobedience
It is a risky endeavour to challenge the Stranger, or call upon him in a time of need. He is always close at hand, you see, and he is always listening — ready to appear at the slightest invocation and grant your dearest wish. Be wary of his favours, for they are not gifts. A gift is given without the expectation of recompense, the Stranger will have his payment — and he demands a terrible price.
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#jonsa#jonsa fic#jonsa fic rec#it's halloween month babyyyy#I'm planning on doing more recommendation posts for halloween/horror stories this month!#if you have any fics you think I should do this for#let me know!#i have 1 or 2 others I'm planning on doing
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going out, she's getting into something
|| main masterlist ||
a/n: here's my contribution for the season, witches! i had SO much fun writing this piece and i hope to get out more for this month! i definitely didn't think it'd be this long but i absolutely loved where it went. also ten points if you could tell when the tone shifted because i started listening to mitski LOL
the dividers are by @saradika — be sure to check them out! 🤍
word count: 10.4k
pairings: arthur morgan x f!reader
warnings & tags: minors dni, halloween time!!! tried to be historically accurate but then again this is fiction y'all, readers having the time of her life honestly, pining, cursing, mentions of alcohol, perhaps some errors??, and some wholesome moments here n there :) — please tell me if i missed anything!
“I already told you girls, the answer is no.”
She didn’t look up from her washing basin as she gave a firm response, her voice tinged with fatigue from the relentless persistence on this matter.
Miss Grimshaw– the unyielding matriarch of the gang– always looking out for the best interest of the camp, even if it meant extinguishing your hopes of a joyous venture beyond its confines.
Normally, you’d accept the answer and move on. But this time, that wasn’t the case. No, you’d been going at it all this week, employing every conceivable tactic to sway her decision– most of which involved volunteering for additional chores atop your designated ones already– because today wasn’t just any other day.
It was Halloween.
And you were damned if you weren’t going out to celebrate it in all its glory.
“Ms. Grimshaw, please,” you continued to beg, “I won’t ask for a thing more!”
The ceaseless scrubbing paused, her hands moving to wipe across her skirt before pressing them against her forehead, muttering words only audible to herself. You stood before her eagerly, hands folded neatly over your apron, shoulders squared– striving to project an aura of innocence that might influence her.
She shook her head as her hands fell hard on her lap, huffing out a frustrated sigh. “Go ask Dutch. If he says it's fine, then you girls can go.”
The elation you felt at her response made you want to dart away before she could have second thoughts, yet your feet remained in the same spot of the muddy grass your heels slowly sunk into. She eyed you as she stood up, your presence a mystery even though she’d already granted your request.
Even though she kept you all on a tight leash, her actions were rooted in sound judgment.
The whole reason there was any stability at camp at all was because of her, no matter how long or short you stayed in some places. She possessed an innate sense of what needed to be done, always placing the welfare of the camp, and more particularly, her girls, at the forefront, even if she had a funny way of showing it sometimes.
“Won’t you come out, too?” Maybe it was naive of you to ask, given she almost never step foot outside camp unless absolutely necessary.
Her hardened stare softened for a moment, peering behind you at camp momentarily as if she really were contemplating it. Her gaze returned to you, her eyebrows drawn together with the faintest curl on her lips.
“What happened to not asking for another thing?”
With a small smile and nod, you excused yourself and set out to find Dutch.
Much to your surprise, he wasn’t in his tent, and a lack of an answer of his whereabouts from Ms. O’Shea didn’t help. Nor did one from Javier out on the post claiming that he hadn’t seen him ride in or out today. And through your thorough search around camp, none revealed a trace of the man you eagerly sought.
On your way back to his tent for a second try, you recognized a figure donning a signature white shirt and black vest standing at the far end of camp, where the view was best of Horseshoe Overlook.
Your smile grew wider with each step to approach him, only calling his name when you were within a few feet.
“Dutch! Can I-”
While your voice caught his attention, it had also gotten the man who stood just nearby him, concealed by the trees until now. You came to an abrupt stop, flickering your widening gaze between the men, feeling hot embarrassment creep onto your cheeks.
It’d been Arthur.
He’d only looked over his shoulder to you, still facing the canyon with his thumbs tucked into his gun belt. The brim of his hat rested just above his eyes as he appraised you, running his eyes up and down your figure.
“I’m sorry..” Your hands instinctively folded against your stomach, “I didn’t realize you were..”
A low chuckle rumbled from Dutch’s chest as he approached you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Nonsense, Miss. Arthur and I were just enjoying the view. Why don’t you join us?”
Your gaze shifted from Dutch’s to Arthur’s, who maintained his position with his chin tucked over his shoulder. He gave no indication as to whether or not your presence affected him, and a slight unease settled in as he was usually quick with a polite comment or sarcastic remark, but he did neither and continued to look at you.
Returning your attention to Dutch, you found him patiently waiting for your response– one hand lingering on your shoulder while the other was outstretched in an invitation to join them at the plateau.
Your lips curled up into a small smile as you walked forward, Dutch appearing to your right and Arthur to his.
The view was nothing short of breathtaking. Below and in the distance, dense forests and mountain ranges stretched for miles, a white veil of mist shrouded at the peaks, and the Dakota River flowed through the canyon, its waters reflecting the brilliant blue of the sky.
What made the scene even more enchanting was the weather– the sun shining bright with barely any clouds to obstruct its rays, its warmth a delight on your skin. The air was crisp in a way that each breath rejuvenated your lungs, a cool and fresh quality trademarked by the fall season.
“What do you think, Miss?” He asked without averting his gaze.
You turned to him, stealing another glance before you, “Pretty as a picture, Dutch.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he softly echoed your sentiment. “Indeed it is.”
For a moment, your eyes fell to Arthur. Like Dutch, he made no move to look away, fully immersed and reveling in the simple pleasures of the moment. His hat still lowered over his eyes, shielding sunlight from those bright blues that could be the sweetest or most intimidating sight. His facial scruff was perfectly tailored for the season– substantial yet manageable, complementing his rugged appearance.
Even in his relaxed stance, you could see his clothing fighting to fit around his muscles, especially in the shoulders and arms. The cuffs of his sleeves clung snugly to his forearms, the contours of his strength evident in raised veins and muscular definition. His thumbs remained tucked into his belt, his large hands lazily curling over it, an embodiment of quiet strength and presence.
A flurry of thoughts swirled in your head– the loudest among them an undeniable realization of just how incredibly attractive this man was.
And how this definitely wasn’t the first time you were thinking this.
You hadn’t realized that you were looking right at him while your thoughts were running wild, and immense embarrassment hit you like a freight train when your eyesight focused on him staring right back at you.
To compound your mortification, your initial reaction was to smile– a smile that aimed to conceal the fact that you had been thoroughly checking him out. You tried to maintain some air of sweetness and innocence, but you knew he could see right through it.
It faltered when he broke contact and looked down, his hat serving as a convenient shield to hide his face entirely. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip, cursing your own lack of composure. It was painfully obvious. You’d gone ahead and made a fool of yourself in front of the man.
Dutch’s voice interrupted your thoughts and commanded you to pull your attention back.
“Camp’s in mighty fine shape thanks to the help of you women here,” he remarked, finally looking at you. “Your contributions are always valued.”
You smoothed out your skirt, a chuckle leaving your lips. “Wouldn’t be as good as it is without Miss Grimshaw. That woman is the glue that keeps us together, I swear by it.”
“That she is.” He agreed, “But with all the effort you ladies put in, I ought to say that you girls deserve a little time to yourselves. Not in camp, that is.”
Your jaw slacked and eyes sparkled with excitement. Barely able to contain the thrill that coursed through your body, your hands began to gesture emphatically as you started up.
“Actually, that’s why I was looking for you!” A grin spread on his face as he took notice of your demeanor, “The girls and I have been dying to go out!”
You caught Arthur lift his head to you, but continued on.
“We would love to go out to town,” you reached out and grazed his arm as he listened, “pleeease, Dutch. Just for tonight?”
He nodded, that reassuring hand finding your shoulder again. “Of course, how could I say no to that?”
You beamed at him, buzzing with even more excitement.
“Where would you ladies like to go? Valentine? Perhaps even Strawberry?”
You bit down on your lip again in a futile attempt to suppress the wicked smile that grew on your face, sheepishly shrugging your shoulders. “Saint Denis?”
“Saint Denis?” Arthur interjected before anyone could speak, stepping in front of Dutch and briefly glancing at you, “Dutch, that’s–”
“Quite alright if that’s where they want to go,” Dutch smoothly derailed his refute, “Arthur.”
But Arthur, being the obstinate man he was, didn’t heed the cue. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head, “That's far, Dutch. Too far.”
Dutch fell silent for a moment, drawing a hand to his hip and shifting his weight to one foot. You wanted to say something to counter Arthur’s point, but you knew his standing with Dutch, so contradicting him could jeopardize your argument, especially after Dutch had already expressed his approval.
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing we’ll all be going to Saint Denis tonight.”
Dutch’s ability to orchestrate a plan that convinced everyone to head down to Saint Denis was a mystery to you, but the best part was that you had absolutely no responsibility in their efforts to move camp for a night.
Because the only thing you had to focus on was having fun.
After Dutch’s final say, Arthur grumbled, shook his head, and retreated back into camp. It likely didn’t improve his mood when you broke the news to the girls and you all erupted in joyful shouts and jumped around, clinging to one another out of pure delight.
Or when you all approached Lenny and Javier in front of him to ask if they’d take you to town and they agreed without putting up the slightest fight.
Or when you couldn’t resist teasing him by suggesting that he wear his best costume for the evening ahead, earning you a glare that you couldn’t help but smirk at.
You hadn’t even had the chance to get out a proper goodbye to the boys as Tilly grabbed your hand and practically dragged you off the wagon to emerge yourselves in the scene of the town, disappearing into the crowds on the paved streets and dodging the ever flowing trams.
Jack O'Lanterns adorned nearly everywhere you turned, perched atop picket fences that lined the slums to the mansion district. Hay bales, while adding to the festive atmosphere, served as a dual purpose as both sustenance for horses and a playground for children to climb upon– an amusing sight that elicited giggles from you.
Karen had led you all into the markets where several vendors hunkered down for the long night ahead, selling various treats and services from harvest foods, to jewelry, to fortune tellings. They all beckoned and invited you over with their expert sales tactics, and usually you would be able to just ignore them, but given today, you gave in to a woman at a jewelry stand.
You and the girls encircled her table and ogled at all the shiny pieces before you, your hands hovering over a splendid array of rings, earrings, and necklaces. With the utmost care, you picked up a ring to examine it further, capturing the saleswoman's attention.
“Oh, that’s gorgeous.” Mary-Beth leaned in to admire it with you, “I’ve never seen somethin’ quite like that before.”
She was absolutely right; it was one of the finest pieces you’d ever seen, far surpassing what you’d observed other women wear. It was a tri-colored gold ring– a dainty gold rose in the middle, flanked by a pink and green leaf to each side, all set against a band crafted with a delicate weaving pattern.
“Would you like to try it on?” The woman offered with a kind smile. “See how it fits?”
You slipped it on your ring finger with ease, gently turning your wrist to admire it from different angles. It hugged against your skin like it was meant to be.
But when you looked down at the price tag, you quickly changed your mind.
“This is a very lovely piece,” you took it off and placed it back on the table, earning a raised brow from Karen, “but it’s more than what I can offer.”
The woman simply nodded at your honesty. You were well aware that most items in these markets were overpriced, with prices inflated to maximize profit, but you felt that this one was truly worth it’s value. With a polite smile, you stepped away from the table and began to walk off with the girls, your heart feeling a little heavy but knowing it wasn’t the end of the world.
But a gentle hand on your elbow caught your attention, pulling you away from the group– the woman.
She took your hand and cupped hers over it, feeling a small object fall into it. Silently, she observed as her hand revealed what she’d given you.
The ring.
Your mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape and your eyes widened, quickly covering it with your other hand.
“Ma’am, I can’t possibly– I don’t have enough–” Her hand on your arm again made you quiet.
“You could’ve easily stolen it from me, but you told the truth and walked away.” Her smile was warm as she plucked the ring from your hand and slipped it on your finger. “Not many people do that here in Saint Denis.”
You looked at her sympathetically, holding her hands in your own, “How can I repay you?”
She grinned and leaned in to whisper, “Come back if you wind up stealing from anyone else.”
You muffled your laughter with a hand over your mouth, giving her a knowing look as she playfully shooed you off with a wink.
You were certainly going to pay her another visit.
Rejoining the girls, you discreetly but excitedly displayed your new possession, allowing each of them to take a turn at holding it up to their faces for a closer look, their voices filled with admiration for its beauty.
Moving out of the markets, you came across the park of Saint Denis. A massive tent had been pitched across the field with people busy setting it up for the evening’s events, clearly designed to cater to a younger crowd. Beneath it were several rows of seats arranged in front of a stage that featured a couple of large basins evenly spaced apart– instantly recognizing it for apple-bobbing. Taking notice of the flairs of red gingham about the area, it made you smile with the detail put into celebrating the day.
The girls had been chattering excitedly about something you hadn’t been fully tuned into, but you snapped back to attention when Karen seized your hand and urged you to run.
Spinning around, Mary-Beth and Tilly were a few paces ahead to your right while Sadie came bolting closer from your left, a wicked grin spread on her face as she pointed towards the other two girls.
“Jump on that trolley!”
Without a second thought, you began weaving in and out of the crowd, your knees kicking your skirt up with each leap. Laughter escaped from you as you heard the startled cries of townsfolk being pushed aside in your hasty getaway, though you really had no idea why you were running at all.
You grabbed Tilly’s hand and hauled yourself up as Mary-Beth did with Karen, whipping around and sticking your hand out for Sadie who was too far away for your liking. Your heart was pounding as the men behind her were catching up, your smile from the adrenaline dropping and turning into panic.
Glancing back, you saw the trolley was due to turn a corner, inevitably too quick for Sadie to keep up with. Your panic escalated until you spotted a way to effectively cut off her pursuers– a tall stack of hay bales just waiting to be tipped over.
Swiftly, you sat on the rail and leaned back with the three girls holding your legs and waist, giving you the ultimate leverage.
“Sadie!” You shouted. “Cut the corner when I say!”
A thumbs up from her was good enough for you. You quickly alternated your gaze between her and the approaching corner, slowly leaning back and stretching out your arm until you couldn’t anymore, your adrenaline pulsing through your entire body now.
With one last look, you yelled your cue, and at the last moment threading your fingers through a band of twine and yanking with all your might.
Slowly, then all of once, they came tumbling down like you intended, fellow townspeople causing an even bigger commotion– or distraction, for your case. The men had no choice but to stop, tripping over the bales and crashing into other people, your plan executed perfectly except for one crucial detail– Sadie.
Frantically, you scanned the crowd, gripping the rail so hard that you were sure to put a dent in it. Shit– Had they got to her after the cut?
Before you could conjure a series of worst-case scenarios, she came sprinting from your right and jumped on to the trolley with ease, all of you ushering inside and taking a seat to catch your breaths.
“I keep tellin’ ya' to trade that skirt for pants, girl.” Sadie smacked your knee, “With quick thinkin’ like that, it’s a waste you don’t get out more.”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. The thrill of doing jobs got you antsy, seeing it was something that you could seriously enjoy once in a while, but being a caretaker was what you were at heart. You liked providing stability in a different way.
“What in the hell was all that about?” Karen asked before you could while fanning herself with her hand, “You’re supposed to save the mischief for later, ya’ know.”
Sadie smirked and raised her hands defensively, “I may have miscalculated some things, but–” she dug into her pockets and revealed two handfuls of money, jewelry, and pocket watches. “I think it was worth it.”
You sighed back into your seat as Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Karen hovered over to get a better look, “I say we take that and go straight to a saloon.”
Sadie shot you an incredulous look, “I just worked my tail off for this, and you wanna spend it already?”
“No–” You dragged a hand over your face and huffed out a laugh, “For bets, idiot. Take more from their pockets, but the fair way.”
She contemplated for a moment. “I ain’t very good at table games.”
“I am!” Karen perked up.
You shot a sly look at Sadie, the dots connecting immediately. And just as you found your new activity for the next couple hours, the trolley slowed to a stop, and you all quickly hopped out the back and right into Doyle’s Tavern.
Hours in, Sadie was racking up more cash and treasures than all five of you could even carry.
It’d been more packed than when you first entered, the festive spirit flourishing through the establishment. On top of all the autumnal decorations already in place, skeletons dangled behind the bar and burning candles littered about to give the right impression of mischievous yet inviting. Round tables were busy with patrons, some full of drinks, others invested in rounds of poker or dominoes– like your own. And when you weren’t glued to a game, you were at the bar flirting your way for a free drink or charming men just to get close enough to discreetly pilfer valuables from their person.
Now, you sauntered over to Karen’s side after taking a brief stroll and glance at Sadie’s hand from the opposite side of the table. While you weren’t intimately familiar with poker, you knew what constituted the best possible hand, and it just so happened that your dear friend held that in her fingers without even knowing it.
You could see the men at the table underestimating her, their smug smiles stemming from her being the lone woman and their belief that they held the winning hand.
But none of them came close to a royal flush.
Nudging Karen, you whispered your observation, a smirk appearing on her face instantly. She shot Sadie a wink– the cue to let them have it– and watched the scene unfold as she splayed her cards across the table.
Their smug smiles dropped to open-mouthed astonishment and disapproving grumbles, slamming their hands down on the table and begrudgingly pushing their bets towards her. She kept her head down in a noble act, but it was really to hide the shit-eating grin on her face as the table cleared and her opponents drudged to the bar for another much needed drink after losing their fourth consecutive round.
Sadie joined you at the side as you all began to leave with the earnings. “God, why don’t we do this more often?” She mused while placing a chunk of wealth into your hands, “Better than the guys doin’ busted-up, ass-backwards jobs if ya’ ask me.”
Mary-Beth spun around and walked backwards as she received her cut, “Well we would if Miss Grimshaw wasn’t such a damn witch.”
“Mhm,” Karen agreed over her shoulder, “I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw her ridin’ a broom tonight.”
Amid their hearty laughter, you quietly chuckled. You knew that despite her being a hell-bound handler, she loved you girls more than anything.
“Y’all are terrible,” you playfully chided while poking them in the back, “both of you!”
The sun had set as you entered the streets of Saint Denis again, now lit up by streetlights, candles, and Jack O’Lanterns. Your eyes twinkled at the sights, the town completely transforming for the night life. Children roamed the sidewalks in noisy groups, no doubt ready to wreak havoc and fully embody the spirit of mischief. Townsfolk flooded in front of every tavern, saloon, and vicinity that promised alcohol, money, and a good time.
But what really caught your eye was the other women– more precisely, their attire.
Left and right you spotted the most beautiful Victorian dresses you’d laid eyes upon– rich in color and carefully designed with the best materials money could buy– and as well as soft and colorful medieval gowns that fluttered and flowed in the gentle breeze. You couldn’t help but stare in awe of their beauty and how well-fitting they were for the evening.
Sadie saw your hands curl around your money as your eyes flitted around and a sly smile curled the corner of her mouth. “Ya’ know, there’s a boutique just around the corner.”
You shrugged at the idea, but she insisted. “Don’t give me none of that– Go on, go get yourself somethin’ pretty,” she bumped you with her elbow, “I know you wanna.”
You bit your lip as a smile crept on your face, glancing down at your hands and back to her while slowly backing away.
“Give me five minutes.”
It was a lie.
Five turned more into twenty with trying on several different dresses before finding the one.
Initially, you tried on the first dress you saw in the window of the shop, a gorgeous navy dress with an integrated corset between the flared skirt and puffy sleeves. However, the bustle was more than you bargained for, and you certainly didn’t fancy the look of having a shelf on your backside. The mirror in the fitting room let you know that the ‘regal’ look was something you weren’t interested in.
The second was a significant improvement from the first. It leaned toward a more gothic style, featuring a mix of black and red satin, as if the red were a robe draped over the black gown, yet both were stitched together seamlessly. Strings criss-crossed over the bust and torso, giving it a unique backward corset appearance, and the sleeves were long and chinched near the elbows. It even came with a hood adorned with black lace trim– a distinctive feature compared to most gowns you had seen. You loved how it looked and felt, but there was a persistent voice in your head that told you it looked too cultish, especially with the hood. In the end, your conscience had guided you out of the fitting room and onto the next.
Picking through the collections had consumed more time than you had anticipated, and your impatience grew as you felt your precious night slipping away.
Nothing was catching your eye and you just wanted something.
You looked out the window to all the bodies strolling through the streets– laughing, smiling, talking– while you were wasting time away finding a silly dress to wear.
The sound of the bell above the door ringing brought you back as a couple customers entered the store, a trio of young women in animated conversation about accessories and making a bee-line for the displays. But as you eyed them, your gaze shifted to just the right of them, falling on exactly what you were looking for.
There it was– a long, crimson floor-length skirt cinched at the seam under the bust, paired with a striking black blouse. But this wasn’t just any black blouse. No, it had balloon sleeves with exaggerated cuffs adorned with buttons that matched the body, and a stunning combination of lace and mesh on the collar that extended gracefully from shoulder to shoulder.
Not wasting another second, you swiped it and practically flew in and out of the changing room, taking a look in the mirror afterwards and absolutely falling in love with how it looked on you. It was comfortable and conventional with a dash of sexy– a match made in heaven! You slid a wad of cash across the counter to the gentleman in exchange for a paper bag for your other clothes and were quickly out the door.
Clutching the bag, you navigated the labyrinthine alleyways and main roads of Saint Denis in search of your girls, thinking just when you found them, it was just another bunch that looked similar from afar. Head on a swivel, you did your best to avoid getting distracted by the lively celebrations around you, despite your strong desire to join in.
So set on your mission, you didn’t even think to look both ways before nearly stepping in front of an oncoming trolley– being saved by a large hards on your arm and waist.
“Oh!–” You palm flew over your chest as you gasped, “I– Thank you! I didn’t even see where I was going!”
“Quite some timing there,” the figure chuckled, “we just got here.”
We?
Looking up, you were met with Charles looking down at you with a kind smile, putting you at ease. In the not-so-far distance, you saw Dutch, Jack, and Kieran hitching their horses and making their way over to you.
“I see you girls have been busy!” Dutch declared as he grandly gestured to your new clothes. “Having fun I hope?”
You nodded politely. Fun and causing trouble, but who were you to spill about that?
A satisfied grin crossed his face, “We’re off to meet the others at Mayor Lemieux. Care to join us, Miss?”
Reuniting with the rest of the gang? Say less.
Before you could answer, you remembered the bag in your hand and looked down at it, your thoughts not lost on the men around you. Not that your old clothes were worth much in a town like Saint Denis, but they were still yours.
“You three go on, we’ll meet you there.” Charles insisted to Dutch, then turned to you as they walked away. “You can leave your stuff with me, it’ll be safe.”
You smiled as he just knew what to do, the protective side of the men you always appreciated. A short walk over to the stables, where he insisted on keeping his horse rather than in the open, and stowing your things later, you were back on track to the mansion district– after some jokes about all the wealth you’d been carrying, of course, and keeping a couple pieces on you for when you saw your market friend.
You marveled at the increasing crowd in the town– kids’ laughter echoed through the streets that mingled with the roars and singing reverberating from every saloon, and occasionally, there were startled shrieks of terror caused by juveniles of the night. You made comments about the atmosphere and were very careful to stay out of the way of the ongoing trolleys, a small inside joke brewing between you both.
In Charles, you felt a strong sense of safety and trust. He was one of the few men you believed to be genuinely good, his only flaw being part of a criminal gang, but even that could be justified with loyalty. He was kind and respectful, not just towards women, but towards everyone. He was someone to have on your side, always.
“So, is everyone really out here?” You inquired, “I didn’t think that Dutch could really rally everyone up to come into town.”
“For the most part,” Charles shrugged, “a couple of them wanted to stay and watch camp. Said they weren’t too big on celebrating.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Who decided to hang back?”
Charles chuckled and glanced at you, teasing, “What’s got you so curious? Expecting somebody?"
Your cheeks burned at his question. You hadn’t been thinking of him until this very moment.
“Maybe I was praying for a miracle that Micah didn’t come.”
He laughed louder this time, “Well, it was answered.”
You cracked a smile at your banter, but now your mind was totally elsewhere and remained that way well into the district, the buzzing of your thoughts stopping at the front entrance of Mayor Lemieux’s estate.
Before you was a huge mansion, white with pillars supporting the sprawling balcony that extended to each side of the house and a wide staircase that led up to an opulent wrap-around porch. From the outside alone, you could tell that every inch of this property was occupied between the amount of people and staff.
Charles led the way into the estate, making sure you didn’t lose him along the way as you looked about. You thought the exterior was grand enough already, but the interior proved to be much more. The flooring in each room varied, from carpet, to tile, to wood– all extravagant. As soon as you stepped inside, a staircase greeted you and split off into two more on each side for the second level, all lined with a rich red and gold carpet. The walls were lined with exquisite light fixtures and portraits of people you couldn’t even begin to name, and an enormous chandelier hung over the center of the entrance, adding to the luxurious ambiance.
Making your way to the back, you grabbed a drink and some hors d’oeuvres off a tray from a nearby server, nursing the drink and nibbling on the food a little bit at a time. As if you thought the place couldn’t be anymore rich, the gazebo and water fountain in the backyard told you otherwise. It was also now that you noticed that the estate had been on the water which reinforced its extravagance. Every single detail had been thought out to make this place the go-to spot for the people of Saint Denis between the assortment of food and beverages, games, decorations– everything.
Your favorite part, though? Finding your people again.
The girls cheered as you locked eyes at the same time, flocking to you and immediately forcing you to spin to show off your attire for the evening. Charles rejoined Dutch, Jack, and Kieran again as they watched you five with amused expressions.
“Next time, we’re comin’ with,” Sadie raised her glass to yours, “five minutes my ass.”
You sheepishly smiled at her and clinked your glass against hers while looking around, “Where’s everyone else? Charles said-”
“There she is!”
Your voice froze as you heard the familiar sound of a particular woman, turning around to meet them.
“Was wonderin’ when you’d show up.”
Your face dropped.
“Miss Grimshaw?”
She took complete pleasure in your utter surprise, sporting a smirk as she sipped from a glass of dark liquid. You approached her, gesturing to say something, but words eluded you, earning a chuckle from her. She savored her drink and waited patiently, her smug expression unyielding until you finally found your voice.
“I didn’t think you wanted to-”
“Celebrate the Day of the Dead? I don’t.” You raised your eyebrows at her bluntness. She took a few steps towards you, “But it beats bein’ in that camp for once. And free drinks ain’t so bad either”
There’s the Susan Grimshaw you knew.
You were quiet as she surveyed your attire, ruffling your sleeve from awkward creases and smoothing it afterwards. Her gaze drew up to your face, looking everywhere but your eyes, making sure all your hairs were in place and that you didn’t just walk straight out of a barn. She placed her fingers under your chin and tilted up to her.
“Don’t be dumb. Don’t be stupid. And don’t go diggin’ up graves. Ya’ hear me?”
You smirked. “No promises.”
She rolled her eyes as her hand dropped, smacking you on the shoulder. “Lord, y’all are the reason I have all these grays.”
She winked at you as she moved on from your conversation, and when you turned back to your friends, they had vanished.
Again.
You let out a suppressed laugh at the circumstances. Of course– if you weren’t glued to their hip, you were bound to lose them. And with as many people there were, finding them again wouldn’t be easy. So, you chose not to.
Swiping another drink from a passing server, you wandered about the property and drank while you observed the various scenes that played out. Suited men overindulging in beers and politics, staff lingering in the corner and gossiping in hushed tones, and young women trying to appear more desirable by loosening buttons or letting a sleeve slip off their shoulders.
The further into the night, the more increasingly bold and uninhibited people became, embracing the wicked and mischievous aspects of the holiday. You noticed it more as you went about the district, slipping in and out without attracting much attention– a level of anonymity you found strangely enjoyable.
The only interruptions were the occasional sightings of familiar faces when you were least expecting them– like Lenny and Kieran on the corner of a saloon, or Karen and Sean talking it up on the staircase of another mansion. Despite their lack of acknowledgement, you still grinned towards them and continued your exploration.
As you came across one of the last estates, you’d barely stepped foot on the property before hearing your name shouted out, causing you to jump.
“Over here, Miss!”
Realizing it to be Dutch beckoning you over, you relaxed and crossed the yard to join at his side, accompanied by a few unfamiliar men. You graciously made their acquaintance and accepted a drink offered by Dutch.
“Gentlemen, this here is one of Van Der Linde’s finest.” He bowed to you, eliciting a shy chuckle out of you, “Truly, she’s one of a kind.”
“You don’t have to tell us twice,” the man to your left winked in your direction. He extended his hand to you, “It’s a shame we haven’t met earlier.”
He was conventionally attractive; kept hair, clean shaven, chiseled features, well dressed. His accent you couldn’t particularly place but found it interesting nonetheless– carrying a definitive air of sophistication.
Taking his hand, he brought it up to his face and kissed the top of it– an act that normally would be acceptable, but you got an icky feeling from him. You bowed your head only to be polite, finding words unnecessary.
“What do you say, dear, let me take you for a drink and have the privilege of getting to know all about Van Der Linde’s finest?”
The bold request had you raising your eyebrows and an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You flushed with embarrassment, was this really happening right now, especially in front of Dutch? It felt so wrong. You didn’t realize how long you’d been silent until another voice interjected.
“She ain’t interested.”
Your eyes widened and back straightened at the deep drawl.
Arthur.
His imposing presence settled beside you, taking the opportunity to steal a glance at him while he was focused on the gentleman before you. It turned into a double-take once you realized what he was wearing.
His hands held his trusty gun belt over a pair of dark pants– jeans, maybe, but it was hard to discern in the dim light. He swapped his typical suspenders for a ragged dark brown leather belt, a unique change yet fitting one. And his shirt– God, his shirt– a white and red gingham button-up that he filled out perfectly with cuffed sleeves. Now that was different, and probably not his preferred style deep down, but you loved it. Even his hat was different, trading his father’s for a much fancier one with a wide front dip and roll, as well as the band featuring brass rifle bullets.
You couldn’t help but gawk. He looked so damn good, and also the only one out of the gang that actually dressed up for the occasion.
“Last I checked, I was speaking to the lady.” The gentleman puffed his chest a bit, elegantly gesturing to you.
Arthur chuckled lowly, his demeanor remaining cool, “Yeah, well, last I checked the lady wasn’t talkin’ back.”
The gentleman, clearly insulted, narrowed his eyes on Arthur as his fingers pinched the stem of his wine glass– the difference between their behaviors clear as day. During their small exchange, you kept your eyes on your hands that held a drink, though you weren’t interested in it much at the moment.
“It’s clear you’ve made her uncomfortable with your poor manners,” the irony of his words made the faintest smile curl on your lips.
Arthur laughed louder, turning to you and draping a hand behind your back while the other settled on his belt still, “Miss, have I made you uncomfortable with my poor manners?”
You met his gaze with a knowing look, biting your lip to fend off the smile that was deepening at him fucking with the man. You knew the answer, and so did Arthur, and you got a kick out of his way of making him look like a fool.
“What poor manners?” You raised your drink to your lips to further conceal your amusement while maintaining eye contact with Arthur, a smirk appearing on his face.
“See? She just ain’t wanna talk to you.” Arthur’s hand pressed against your back, directing you to move, while he tipped his head and gestured a farewell, “Now, you gentlemen have a fine night.”
As you walked further away you could hear bits and pieces of Dutch attempting to soothe the situation, which, to you, sounded like a lot of ass-kissing to salvage whatever relations he had built with those men before suffering a blow from Arthur.
Speaking of him– your skin was warm where his hand touched and guided you, steady as he maneuvered you both through the crowds. It was reminiscent of the feeling you’d had with Charles earlier, but with Arthur, it was different– more intense. Even from behind, you could sense his frame towering over you, feeling a warmth in your cheeks just at the thought of his broadness alone. He mumbled a series of ‘excuse us’ and ‘watch out’ as you moved along into the backyard, the scene nearly the same compared to Mayor Lemieux’s, of course the obvious difference was the actual yard itself.
It was only when you were nearly at the back that his hand dropped from you as he rested against a pillar, his eyes carefully scanning through the sea of people before returning to you.
“M’sorry about that,” his sincerity was evident. “Dutch’s been with ‘em all night, and I ain’t got a very good feeling about it.”
You appreciated his apology though it wasn’t really necessary. His intent was clear, and you admired him for it.
“Well, I’d say you’re my knight in shining armor, but it’s looking more like..” Your eyes danced around his attire again with a hint of a smile.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he shook his head and put his bottle to his lips, giving you a fine sight to see. “S’your fault I’m wearin this get-up, by the way.”
He pointed at you while leaning back, shifting his weight to one foot with the other crossed in front of it. His arms crossed against his chest in a way made his arms look ridiculously big, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this man didn’t have women lining up for him around the block.
“Oh, you say it like it’s a bad thing,” you retorted, taking a sip from your glass before gesturing to yourself. “And you’re not the only one, see?”
With a graceful twirl, you spun around, allowing your skirt to flare for a flashy effect. Arthur couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched you.
“Are you supposed to be somethin’, or?” There was a genuine curiosity in his tone that had you raising your brows, which caused him to stutter. “I-I mean, don’t get me wrong! It looks, you look–”
A laugh from you calmed his nerves, “I’m not, I just wanted to be festive, is all.”
He nodded and shifted his weight to the other foot, casting his gaze towards the crowd again. An awkward silence filled the space for a moment.
“What about you? What’s your get-up?” You grinned as he rolled his eyes at his word choice for costume. “And don’t say a cowboy.”
He fell quiet.
“An outlaw?”
Your laughter mingled in the air with Arthur’s, seeing a dash of red spread across his cheeks. It was exactly the kind of answer you had expected.
As it died down, his attention returned to the yard, and you couldn’t help but look at him. With his rugged looks, quick wit, and heart of gold, it was hard not to feel something for him. And for how much you were having a good time in the short duration you were with him, you couldn’t believe he ever protested coming out here.
Your heart fluttered for him. He could’ve been anywhere else right now, either at camp or drinking and getting into trouble, but yet he stayed with you, and it didn’t look like he was leaving your side anytime soon.
“Arthur–”
“We gotta move–”
The sudden urgency in his voice caught you off-guard. He stood from the pillar and a protective hand was on your back again, preparing to lead you away once more. Both of your gazes were fixed on several unfriendly-looking staff members who were combing through people with lanterns– grabbing them by the shoulder, holding the light to their face, then carelessly throwing them aside when they weren’t the face they were looking for.
Just your luck.
Quickly, Arthur guided you down the steps and to the right to what you assumed was a storage house. You kept an eye out while he found a way in, though your panic rose as they kept sweeping the yard and moving closer.
“Arthur, any day now would be gr–”
He pulled your arm into darkness and swung the door shut, immediately blocking it with an object that was too dark for you to see. The space was much smaller than you imagined and quite stuffy, the music and conversation muffled to your ears now.
Your heart hammered in your chest, surely this wasn’t because of a bruise to the ego? But then again, these rich folk seemed sensitive. You joined Arthur at the small window, just peeking around the curtain to watch the unwelcomed company grow closer, “Some staff this place has.”
“This place belongs to Angelo Bronté. And that ain’t staff.”
You scoffed, “Who?”
“Somebody we ain't need to piss off.”
You faced him, “And let me guess, you pissed him off somehow?”
As he turned to you, you became acutely aware of the lack of distance between you both. Just the slight inch forward and–
No– now was not the time to lust over him, even if your body was giving you all the telltale signs, especially the fire that burned in your core. But it didn’t help when he smirked at you for an answer, the dim illumination of half his face making him look criminally more attractive. You groaned at the overall situation– grappling with your desires and figuring how it wouldn’t be a true Van Der Linde outing if someone didn’t cause trouble.
Your fingers curled around the curtain as you watched them gather near where you’d been standing no more than ten minutes ago. Glancing back, you noticed another window that would lead just over the wall– your escape.
“Hey, there’s a–”
“Where'd you get that?”
You knitted your brows in confusion at him, letting a beat pass before seeing where his eyes had been glued to– your hand on the curtain.
The ring.
The dim light from outside still made it twinkle in the darkness of the room, catching his attention. You glanced at it before redirecting your gaze to the henchmen that had now come down the stairs and searched the opposite side of the patio behind some barrels. It was only a matter of time before they came looking where you were.
“Someone gave it to me, but listen–”
“Who gave it to you? His voice was insistent as he stared at you intently.
You stared back dumbfounded. Between wanting to have him right in this storage house and your pursuers less than twenty yards away, you couldn’t comprehend he was pestering you about this right now.
Letting out a huff, you blindly reached around for anything to give you a boost, finding your footing and hoisting upwards to reach the higher window. With one arm supporting yourself, the other made work with the pane, pushing it up little by little. It proved to be more difficult than you expected from its old age and scarce use. Your heart raced when you heard the twisting of the door knob and voices from the outside congregating around it.
Shit.
With a final push, you opened it all the way, whispering urgently, “C’mon!”
Arthur followed swiftly after you, his plunge to the ground a bit more graceful than yours, but certain he wasn’t looking anyway. Just as hit feet hit the ground, you heard the door bust open from inside, followed by several heavy footsteps and angry voices.
He grabbed your hand and pulled you to the right to run down the street, bumping into townsfolk along the way and hearing their unpleasant words go in one ear and out the other. But they weren’t the only ones disgruntled– so were more henchmen that were right after you. How many people did this guy have?
Your muttered profanity let Arthur know that trouble was on your tail, tightening his grip on your hand and looking for any way out.
An intersection was coming up as you ran further into Saint Denis, which meant more people, more places to hide, and more–
“Trolley!”
You pointed at it as it was approaching too quickly for your liking, hoping Arthur would see and redirect your route. But instead, he tugged for you to run faster.
“We’re not gonna–”
“Just trust me!”
Your eyes darted from the street ahead to the trolley, panic at an all time high as you were essentially running to your certain death.
You squinted as the bright lights blinded you, your legs pumping as fast as they could, and your shriek swallowed by the horn of the machine– you accepted your fate as an oversized bug smeared across its windshield.
You felt your body jerked to the side and slam against concrete. You were disoriented, your senses in chaos. This was it. The afterlife already– dark, cold, and full of..
Ragged breathing?
“Goddamn...” Arthur’s voice reached your ears.
You shot your eyes open at Arthur’s rasp, your heart painfully thumping in your chest and lungs aching with every breath. You heaved and peered around the corner to see Bronté’s men grouped in the street looking for a sign of either of you, but their efforts yielded nothing. WIth an angered look of defeat, they turned back towards the estate, and you let out a deep sigh of relief.
When you turned back, Arthur stood close to you, his gaze drawn to the men then falling to you after.
“You,” you poked at his chest, “are absolutely insane. Never make me do that again!”
“Remember,” his hand reached up for yours, “I’m an outlaw, not a liar.”
You shared a soft laugh, captivated by the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled and the soothing timbre of his voice. Your gaze shifted down to your conjoined hands, appreciating the gentle way he held yours despite his larger and rougher ones. His skin was warm against yours, and although you expected fireworks, it was more like a softness, surrendering to its familiarity despite never having experienced it before.
Lightly, his thumb grazed your palm and stopped at the band around your finger, gently turning your hand over so that the design was visible. He examined it closely, tracing the delicate details with his thumb.
“A woman in the market here gave it to me... Told her I couldn’t afford it, but she wanted me to keep it– insisted on it.”
He continued to look at it, taking in all the tiny details as best as he could in the dark alley. A faint smile appeared on his lips as his thumb ran over it, “Sounds like it was meant to be.”
His choice of words resonated with you, reaffirming the same feeling you’d had when you first tried it on.
A chuckle and grin from you caused him to tilt his head with a playful expression, slightly leaning closer to you, “What?”
You glanced at the ring and back to him, briefly holding your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment. Your gaze flickered from his eyes, down to his lips, and back up again.
“You believe in fate, Arthur Morgan?”
His smile faded and eyes slightly widened, but your soft gaze remained steady on him. Your hands left his and traveled to his shoulders, carefully smoothing out any wrinkles. His breathing quickened, especially after the sudden touch. He stared deep into your eyes, searching for any sign that would tell him it was all in his head, but it wasn’t. You knew what you were asking.
He lowered his head for a moment, his expression softening under your touch and drawing closer to you. When he met your eyes again, a fleeting look of sadness crossed his face as his hands found themselves under your elbows.
Being involved with someone like him came with hardships for both sides– a lifestyle that one had to keep and the other suffered because of it. It wasn’t fair, eternally caught in moral dilemmas and forever denied the chance to settle down. There wasn’t the luxury to cherry-pick from life’s offerings, to have it all. This was his life, and he carried the weight of it heavily.
“I don’t believe in a lot of things,”
But you didn’t care. You had embraced a life similar to his, akin to that of the Van Der Linde gang. If you hadn’t, would you all have winded up together anyway?
You understood the unconventional life you all led, far from the standard, civilized existence that others pursued. But it worked for you, and you had each other to rely on, and that’s what truly mattered. You saw beyond the surface, beyond the cold outlaw label that clung to him, a man with flaws and virtues. Maybe he lost his temper too quickly at times or wielded a sharp tongue, but beneath it all, there was love, kindness, and a sense of honor that ran deep within him.
The world may have painted him as the Devil incarnate, but you knew him differently. He was a good man, capable of both selfless kindness and quiet introspection. In your heart, you held this belief, and nothing could change that.
Life had conspired to bring you together. And in that union, there was fate.
“But I have my exceptions.”
He pressed his lips gently against yours, his arms snaking behind and around as yours curled over his shoulders.
It was slow and sweet just like how you imagined he would be– taking his time to know your body and touch. His hands spread along your back and held you protectively, your bodies melting into one another. The breaks between were short, too focused on the fact this was happening to pay attention to anything else but each other. Your hand moved to his cheek and ran your thumb along his beard, earning a hum of pleasure from the small act and had you smiling against his lips.
When you finally broke, you rested foreheads together, pushing up his hat slightly in the process. Even in a dark alley, you could still make out his bright blue eyes and a deep shade of red gracing his skin. You couldn’t even begin to conceal your toothy grin, nor could he.
“I have my exceptions, too.”
His hand reached up and curled around yours, “Hope I’m the only one, then.”
You pecked his lips before stepping back and lacing your fingers with his, gently tugging to walk, “I’ll think about it.”
He rolled his eyes at your wink but still grinned, happily following you around wherever you dragged him to. Slipping between alleys, you merged yourselves with the lively nightlife again– the same sights you saw during the day looked even better now.
As you strolled through the town hand-in-hand, a sense of domesticity settled upon you. Tonight, you weren’t part of a highly wanted gang, you were just another pair in the streets of Saint Denis– clinging to his arm, catching snippets of entertainment through saloon doors, and getting the other’s attention when something of interest was spotted.
One of the things you enjoyed most was Arthur’s reactions to when kids jumped out to scare you both, a prank played on anyone who dared to walk the particular stretch of the street. The younger the prankster, the more dramatic Arthur’s responses became. He would place a hand over his heart and tightly cling to you with feigned disbelief, saying things like “Haven’t been scared like that in years!” or, “Never even saw ‘em comin!” before saying some words of encouragement that fueled the next scare.
Teenage boys who attempted the same stunt received a more wary reception from Arthur, recognizing their motives often stemmed from a desire to appear cool in front of friends or impress girls, and that their pranks were much more juvenile. In most cases, his glare and sheer size alone were enough to send them fleeing, but those who dared to persist were subjected to his quick tongue and left them retreating like chastened dogs with their tails between their legs. Your laughter always followed the encounter, adding to the lingering sting of Arthur’s verbal reprimand.
Eventually, your route had led you near the markets again, and you eagerly pulled Arthur along to find your favorite stand. He chuckled and followed your lead as you navigated through the crowd, your excitement palpable.
“Oh please tell me you stole him!” Came a familiar voice around the corner.
You smiled at the sight of her and approached, seeing that her table had been decently cleared, a sign of a good night for profits.
Arthur politely tipped his head towards her with a shy smile, “Afraid it’s the other way around, ma’am.”
You felt a warmth on your cheeks at his answer and gently squeezed his hand before letting it go to dig out your promises tucked expertly within your clothing. “But I do come bearing gifts!”
Her playful frown turned up into genuine surprise at your reveal of assorted jewelry and trinkets– indeed impressed with your take as it was more than she anticipated. Carefully, she examined each one before placing them with her own wares for sale, whispering a praise about the item while doing so. As she spoke, her eyes flitted about her table, her gestures revealing a hint of embarrassment.
“I apologize that I don’t have more to offer, dear,” her eyebrows furrowed apologetically, “but please, do take whatever you like.”
You glanced over the table, hesitating as you hovered a hand over an item before retracting it, shaking your head slowly. The woman and Arthur exchanged puzzled glances, the woman’s expression now tinged with concern.
“It doesn’t have to be tonight, I’ll be here–”
“It’s quite alright,” you replied sweetly, though the confusion was still apparent in her expression. “I just wanted to repay you.”
She layered her hands over her chest in gratitude, and you felt the act of pure kindness from one human to another to be worth more than any dollar bill or piece of gold.
You also knew that besides the girls, each member that was out had surely pickpocketed or gambled their way into getting a cut for themselves and camp.
Her eyes peered over to Arthur for a moment, his posture straightening when she pointed a motherly finger at him. “Don’t let this one go, you hear?”
You giggled at her demand, and another wave of red kissing his cheeks only added to your amusement as he tipped his head at her once again.
Slowly, you exchanged goodbyes as Arthur placed a hand on your lower back and subtly scooched you along– only for it to be an excuse to slip a wad of cash towards the woman without you noticing. Her hands were quick to replace the cash in his hands for something small and delicate into his, darting her eyes between your turned figure and him before shooting a wink. Without looking, Arthur knew exactly what she gave him, and placed it right in his pocket before giving you his full attention as you continued through the strip.
A warm smile graced your lips as Arthur’s arm wrapped around your waist and he planted a gentle kiss on your head, feeling a tiny swarm of butterflies in your chest. His attention made you feel important with the way he had to touch you, like he needed everyone to see you on his arm, proud to have you by his side.
As the night wore on, you couldn’t suppress the heaviness of your eyelids. You tried to hide your yawns that wouldn’t stop coming after the initial one, but Arthur noticed after the second one. After exploring nearly all the sights of Saint Denis, with the exception of the mansion district, of which you had wisely avoided for the rest of the evening, he convinced you to rest at a hotel for the night. You protested at first, but another yawn and knowing look from him persuaded you to give in.
He’d slipped the clerk a little more than the average room cost, wanting you to have the best possible after such a physically taxing day. The clerk, more than willing to oblige, had graciously handed over the keys.
While the lofty bed and opulent room details were certainly appealing, you immediately took to the private balcony that gave the perfect view over the town, allowing you to continue enjoying the night from the comfort of your room. Your skirt fluttered in the breeze, mirroring the movement of the curtains as you leaned against the iron railing. A soft, ambient glow illuminated your figure, creating a picturesque scene that Arthur couldn’t help but admire– a sight he would undoubtedly sketch later.
He joined at your side, his presence reassuring as he brushed against your shoulder. You continued to gaze down at the bustling town below, the sounds of murmured conversation and laughter from the open buildings– mostly taverns and saloons– filling the night air. You rested your head against Arthur’s shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
“I know I acted like I didn’t wanna come out here tonight,” he mentioned as he looked down at you, meeting your gaze that reaffirmed his statement that pulled a smile from him. “But I’m glad I did.”
Adjusting to face him properly, he snaked his arm around you as he did the same, drawing you closer to him with a soft, affectionate look. You brushed noses as you settled in his space, your lips mere centimeters from his.
“I’m glad you did too.”
Your lips locked in a passionate embrace, and the cheers and woos from below had reached your ears, causing both of you to break into smiles at the unexpected audience. But he paid no heed to the commotion as he pulled you in for more, his hands finding your face to deepen your connection.
In a brief moment of separation, you took the opportunity to give him a suggestive smirk and nod to the room that told him everything he needed to know– quickly peppering kisses along your jaw and neck before swiftly sweeping you off your feet and right into bed.
If tonight proved one thing, it was that you needed to get out of camp more often.
Especially with Arthur.
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x f!reader#arthur morgan fic#arthur morgan fanfiction#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption fic#rdr2#halloween fic
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Wait hold on a m-
Hey Rachel
Hey Rachel what's on your pfp
Did you give Ray facial hair Rachel
Are you going to give every single character in tpn including the babies facial hair Rachel
I'mma give it to you this one is probably too far he's a thirteen-year-old bby in this pic
Most he'd probably have is the ittiest bit of scraggly peach fuzz post-timeskip that looks awful
I'm 110% behind the headcanon of him growing one in his twenties in honor of his papa though
#was just going to keep this one around for the duration of the poll#still have to work on my Halloween edit#I think I've seen Norman with facial hair two (2) times in all the years I've been in this fandom#three counting a fic where him having stubble is to show how stressed he is over Ray potentially dying#also potentially funny to have Don easily grow a gorgeous one that puts both of them to shame#darklight-owl#FSS Asks#FSS Shenanigans#The Promised Neverland#TPN#TPN Ray#YnN Ray#Ray#Papa Yuugo Tag#TPN 181#TPN 181.4#Human World Arc#Post-Canon
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Season 2 Halloween Party AU Part Two
You can read part one here!
***
Eddie can't help but steal glances at his passenger as he starts the engine while Steve buckles himself in.
A streetlight flickers overhead bathing the front seat in strobing gold light; it's so distracting Eddie nearly misses the way Steve's hands tighten around the seatbelt, a slight tremor running through them.
The other man looks exhausted but incredibly on edge, his back straight and shoulders stiff. Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Steve scans the dark street ahead of them.
If he's so embarrassed to be seen with the town freak, he can just get out and walk home.
Eddie almost says as much, but shakes the words off and flicks the small Snoopy bobblehead on the dash, before reaching for the edge of the passenger seat.
He feels Steve flinch at the sudden movement as Eddie braces himself on the seat to look out the rearview window.
Eddie tamps down the flicker of irritation that burns in his chest, he hadnt taken Harrington for a Bible thumping asshole that would believe the rumours circling Eddie, but then again, Eddie didn't really know Steve.
Eddie backs out of the space slowly, no need to wreck the paint even more by hitting some suburban moms stationwagon after all. He shifts into drive and pulls away from the street and the flashing lights of Tina's party behind them.
Steve is quiet as they drive, and as the sound of the dull throbbing bass and party goers begins to fade into the background, Steve slowly begins to curls inwards, tugging his arms around himself.
Eddie's eyes flick between Steve and the road, he's still not looking at Eddie, just out the window with a blank expression. It's the most quiet he's ever seen King-Steve, it's unsettling.
But, the more Eddie thinks about it, that really isn't true.
King-Steve hasn't been King of anything for awhile now, Tommy Hagan has seen to that.
Steve has been keeping to himself more and more, preferring to hang out with Wheeler and, surprisingly, Byers of all people.
Eddie isn't sure he'd ever be able to comfortably sit at a cafeteria table with someone who cleaned his clock, but Steve makes it look easy.
Eddie sneaks another glance and startles to find that Steve is already looking at him. He's chewing his lip, his eyebrows pinched and Eddie can't help but feel as though he's being evaluated somehow.
Great.
"Actually, you know what," Steve says after they've turned down yet another subdivision, just one street shy before the main road, "you can just drop me off up here, my house is close".
"You sure?" Eddie asks, ignoring the frustration that rises in his chest once more, "I can drive you the rest of the way, it's not like we don't all know where the King's Domaine is".
Eddie watches as Steve's expression turns stony for the barest of moments before it shutters.
"Okay".
Eddie nods with a grimace. He isn't even sure what he wanted to happen tonight, but it wasn’t this.
Eddie makes a left and another right before pulling into the long drive of the Harrington house.
It used to make him scoff whenever he dealt here. The huge house, the lavish furnishings and fixtures. For fucks sake, the master bath had two sinks and the closet was almost as big as his own bedroom.
But now as the engine dies and a strange silence falls on the pair, Eddie can't help but notice just how dark the house is.
"Your parents here?" Eddie says, craning his neck to see the upstairs windows, he doesn't even notice Steve has unclicked himself from the passenger seat until the door is open and he's halfway out of the van.
"Woah--"
"Thanks for the ride," Steve calls over his shoulder, "see you around Munson".
Eddie barely has time to open his mouth in protest before Steve is unlocking his door and slamming it behind him, leaving Eddie in the van alone.
He sits for a second before sighing and turning the key once more, coaxing the engine back to life. Eddie turns again, bracing his hand on the passenger seat, debating if he should head back to the party, before he spots something on the floor shining in the glow of the streetlights.
A pair of large black sunglasses, and there's no doubt who they belong to.
"Well shit," Eddie hums thoughtfully as he bends forward to grab the glasses from the floor, "guess I'll be seeing you sooner than we thought".
***
The first bell rings as Eddie closes his locker, he looks out across the sea of teenagers making their way to homeroom before the second bell and smirks.
Eddie should also be hurrying, considering how far his locker is from his first period class, but there's something about the way the teachers glare as he saunters in late that just fuels him.
Eddie smirks as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, the metal lunchbox inside clangs against something and Eddie winces at the sound. Shit.
He moves the pack off his shoulder and unzips the top, reaching inside to grab the sunglasses from where they've become trapped beneath his lunchbox.
They aren't broken thankfully, Eddie's sure that Harrington wouldn't appreciate his gesture nearly as much if they came back cracked or bent.
The thought makes Eddie stop for just a moment before he opens his locker again to place the sunglasses on the top shelf. Why is he even doing this? It's not as though King-Steve would appreciate this, he probably doesn't even know the glasses are missing.
What does Eddie care about some asshole jock?
An image of Steve with his head in his hands, his hazel eyes wet and wide as he looks up at Eddie has him slamming his locker shut, mortified by the unbidden thought.
It's a complete betrayal of his own God damned doctrine, and worse, Steve is straight. All Eddie is doing is hurting himself in the long run with all his pointless pining.
Especially over someone that didn't want to be seen getting into his van last night.
Eddie leans his head onto his locker and knocks it harshly against the metal, stupid.
The second bell rings and the last of the stragglers leave him alone in the hallway. Eddie taps his fingers on the locker and pushes himself away as he makes his way to the main door, throwing his backpack over his shoulder once more.
He needs a smoke, and definitely doesn't need Mrs. McBrayden telling him off for not handing in yet another essay today.
Whatever, it isn't as though Eddie hasn't read Macbeth, he knows that stupid play backwards and forwards --the witches speech is absolutely full of kickass creepy language and was perfect for this one campaign he ran a few years ago.
Eddie could tell you all the major themes and conflicts no problem, it was writing it in such a way that his teacher would believe he actually wrote it that was the issue.
The last time Eddie actually tried on one of his assignments, he had been immediately accused of plagiarizing someone else's work.
So, why bother.
Eddie's already got a cigarette between his lips as he pushes the door open and makes his way to his favorite picnic table by the treeline when he hears a familiar voice behind the gym.
"Tell me--"
"Tell you what?" another voice scoffs, a woman's this time.
Eddie pokes his head tentatively around the corner, spotting the man he had driven home just the night before and his girlfriend alone, clearly fighting.
"Tell me," Steve says firmly, even as his voice waivers, "you love me".
Wheeler stands there, her arms wrapped tightly around her books, "really?"
The word comes out, wrapped in a smile, like it's a joke.
Steve doesn't move, he doesn't laugh, he doesn't make a sound.
Nancy's mouth opens and closes as her blue eyes search Steve's face for a long time. She tries for a laugh again, but her smile cracks as Steve continues to stand there expectantly.
Eddie can't see Steve's face from where he's standing but he does hear the low curse he lets out eventually before turning abruptly, swinging a towel over his shoulder as he jogs back to the field to join the rest of the class.
Well shit.
Eddie watches Nancy as she remains rooted to the spot, her face tipped down to the gravel. She breathes out a long sigh and raises one hand to brush through her hair before it drops heavily at her side.
Eddie can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy as he slowly turns away, shaking his head as he continues to the picnic table.
He lights the cigarette as he takes a seat facing the school, letting the edge of the table dig into his back. He pulls a long drag from the cigarette and breathes out, watching as the smoke billows away in the cool November air.
If it wasn't officially over last night, it definitely was now. The priss and the jock were no more, and knowing Hawkins?
It would be all over the school by lunch.
Part Three up!
Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123
and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @strangersteddierthings @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads
#stranger things#stranger things season 2 au#steve harrington#eddie munson#nancy wheeler#steve and nancy breakup#what would have happened if eddie had been at tinas halloween party?#yall want a part three?#this fic is going places apparently#dont be mad at nancy#steve and nancy were too dumb kids that were affected by deep trauma and definitely did not know how to be in a relationship#eddie is having all sorts of complicated feelings about steve here#add a little bit of misunderstandings in the van as a treat#cw smoking#i will never get tired of halloween party breakup aus#you can pry them from my cold dead fingers#afewproblems writes
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Coolsville
(1,413 words)
At a Halloween party during college, Evan's friends ask him a question that gets him thinking. 🎃🕷🍫👻
Evan hadnt expected to enjoy the party. College parties in the movies were always so loud and rowdy, and everyone would always be drinking and being obnoxious and-- its almost like a buffet table of everything Evan doesn't like.
He almost hadnt even gone, but of course, Gregory had somehow wrangled him into going, even without him there by his side, having to stay home to finish his comic page before his deadline. "Come on, Evan, you have to take risks every once in a while. What's the worst that could happen?"
And Evan had truly tried his best to find the answer to that question on the way there. His friends from college, people he met in classes and activities around campus who invited him, were the ones to pick him up.
But it somehow didnt cross his mind that these are his friends, and they-- they know how he is, and they're good friends, so maybe the party wouldn't be as bad as in the movies.
It ended up not being, when he finally arrived and there werent even that many people. The music hadnt shaken the walls or hurt his ears, the place was covered head to toe in halloween decorations, jelly window clings on every glass surface, streamers and balloons and ghost and gravestone shaped cookies layed out, tropical punch food-colored radioactive green on the counters.
It hadnt been like the movies, which are like Evans worst nightmare-- it was fun.
He'd danced badly with his friends, the number of attendants small and not overwhelming. The music turned from techno to spooky quickly, as soon as people in costume started showing up. Evan himself is starting to run out of ideas (so many Halloween's going all out with Gregory is making his internal costume bank run on empty), so he'd had to settle on one half of his homemade duo costume with Gregory; two beanie baby bears, The Beginning and The End.
Any tightness he'd felt in his chest dreading every second he got closer to arriving at the party slowly but surely ebbed as time went on. He munched on the sweet treats, colored frosting turning his tongue orange, and talked with his friends. Norman, who he met joining a birdwatching club, talked about some drama with his ex-girlfriend back in high school, and Kenny, who he met simply after being partnered with him in a group assignment, told an elaborate story about when his dog went missing as a kid and how they brought her home.
Any uncomfortable-ness that could have lingered is nowhere to be seen by the time everything's said and done. Evan's shocked to see the time at 11:28pm when he'd arrived at six, so he shoots Gregory a quick text letting him know he'll be late home.
After reading Gregorys enthusiastic response, Evan heads back into the living room, where the TV is playing some cartoon on mute, Lo-Fi Halloween music is playing softly on the speakers, and everyone except Evan and his friends has cleared out. The cookie plates are empty, the punch bowl almost drained, and Evan's face hurts from how much hes been smiling all evening.
After he settles on the couch, they all get to talking again, Evan seamlessly re-entering the conversation feeling like he never left. He doesnt feel like a burden here, not like he did with his 'friends' in high school. He laughs boisterously as Kenny recounts an inside joke.
At some point, everyone tired and their batteries draining, they switch the topic to something that's just as childish as Evan likes it; Twenty Questions.
The questions are tame at first, like favorite foods and colors, but they get more personal and in depth as time goes on. They ask about first crushes, most embarrassing moments and history with friends.
One question gets Evan to pause, though.
"Okay, okay," Joshua, whos-- great, really, super great and awesome, starts after the giggling dies down enough to get any words out. "I've got one. Let's say you walk into a room, and everyone you've ever known is there-- who are you going to find first?"
Evan blinks, not even having to think. They go around the circle, like they have this whole time, until they reach him. "What about you, Evan?" Joshua asks.
"My brother." His mouth says so quickly he almost surprises himself.
"Really?" Joshua asks, smiling. He's met Gregory before and they got along great. "Why him, out of everyone?"
He only takes a second to respond, but he doesnt think anything he saying has any thought behind it. The words are already in his mouth, so sure when they spill out.
"Who else," Evan says. "if not him?"
Everyone seems to take that as answer enough, Joshua nodding before revealing his own answer. It's like background noise to Evan, who's still staring at the same crumb-riddled Frankenstein shaped paper plate that's been sitting on the coffee table this whole time.
Who else, if not him? Evan doesn't think theres one person in this world he would choose over Gregory. Not Cassidy, no matter how much he loves her, not Cassie, not his family, and certainly none of his blood family.
He tries to think of a scenario where he does. He can't.
It always circles back to Gregory, who found him almost ten years ago now and changed everything. Gregory, who is the sole reason hes here today. Gregory, who did more for him than anyone else. Gregory, who he cant imagine living without, who he wouldnt want to. Gregory, who's always been there for him. Gregory, who caused Evan to become the person he is today.
Gregory, whos the only reason Evan came to this party, met people he believes are real, true friends, had fun on his own, took a risk.
He took a risk over a year ago, when he ditched his family and hightailed it to the Fazbears when he was eighteen. He took a risk when Gregory convinced him he was capable of college, when theyd made plans when they were so young that college felt infinitely far away to Evan. He took a risk when he mumbled his name to Gregory that day, the chance of getting it spat back in his face a real possibility.
Who else, if not him? Evan cant think of a single one.
He gets the sudden urge to text Gregory, and the moment he sets a hand on his phone, it vibrates with a new text message.
Gregory: if u dont come home soon im gonna be asleep when u get here lol
"Evan?" Joshua asks suddenly. Evan jolts, glancing up to look at him. The chatter has stopped, and Josh is staring at him in a way where Evan can tell it's not the first look he's sent. "Are you okay?"
A smile creeps up on Evan's face, wobbly but enough to make his cheeks hurt. "Yeah," He says, rubbing at his thankfully dry eyes. "I just-- think I'm gonna head home soon, yknow?"
Joshua smiles ever so slightly. "Yeah."
Norman and Kenny start awwing, and it makes Evan smile even wider. Joshua grabs his keys after they're done hugging Evan, and they head outside and get in his car together.
Its quiet when they start driving, and Evan sends a text to Gregory before looking at Joshua. "I'm sorry if it seemed like I wanted to leave at the end, there..." He feels the need to say. "I just-- got to thinking."
"About what?" Josh asks.
Evan smiles instinctively. "My brother."
Joshua chuckles, shifting to just one hand on the steering wheel. "I get it. Yknow my parents had another kid when I was like, twelve?"
Evan's eyes widen. "Wow, really?"
"Yeah." Joshua says. "They were worried we wouldn't get along, but... even if it was hard at first, we got close." Evan looks at him from the passenger seat, and the smile on Josh's face is all genuine, pure love.
"Hes nine now." He says. "I think... I think nowadays, I'd do anything for him."
Evan smiles, it's a small, soft smile, and he thinks back to a twelve year old Gregory, a lightning bolt of a kid who struck Evan very suddenly and swept him up in a way he'd never forget.
"Yeah," Evan almost whispers, turning on his phone and looking at the photo of him and Gregory when they were fifteen as his lockscreen. "me too."
ao3
#listen everyone this is my first time writing in 2 months so. if u can tell im rusty no u cant#im just happy to have written something again lol#this fic is very inspired by the 'who would you go find in a room with everyone youve ever met' 'my sister' 'why her' 'who else if not her'#exchange on tiktok pic#its jyst soooo flashlight duo to me#also made halloweeney :)#i missed u flashlight duo!!#pandas writes#flashlight duo oneshots#flashlight duo modern au#halloween#flashlight duo#evan#gregory#i havent posted a fic like this on tumblr in like 9 months its so much more embarrassing than i remember LMAO
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