#i’m not back back but i’m lurking and trying to catch up hope you’re all good & thriving! <3

[hekateinhell]

accidentally took somewhat of a vc fandom break for a while and i come back and it’s almost vamptember lol oops

[sukunasteeth]

Picking You Up From Work

Sukuna leans on the bumper of his Camaro, hoping a drop of rain doesn’t land perfectly on the tip of his cigarette and snuff it out. He’s pretending not to watch the front door of your workplace, like an anxious dog waiting for his owner to come home, but it’s ten minutes past the time you said you’d be out, and he was ready to take you to his apartment and settle down for the night. It had been a long day- he wanted to forget it in the taste of your whimpering on his tongue.

Customers pass him on their way into your workplace. Sukuna wonders briefly what has them whispering to each other and sneaking glances over at him: the nearly sixty year old car or the man covered in tattoos leaning against it?

Fifteen minutes pass before he checks his phone again. It was unlike you to be late, you knew Sukuna had a pet peeve of not being on time and, despite how hairbrained you were, he knew you tried to meet him halfway. Looking over his shoulder, he peeks at the flowers sitting on the passenger seat waiting for you. If he had known you'd be a minute, he would have put a splash of water in the bottom of the flower wrap holding the bouquet together. He clicks his tongue in disappointment, hoping they don’t wilt by the time you get to them.

“I’m sorry, I have to get going-” Your voice chimes through the sound of the rainfall like a cleansing bell, bringing Sukuna’s attention snapping back towards the exit of your work.

You're standing halfway between his car and the building, directly in the middle of the parking lot. A man dressed in a similar uniform to yours is standing a little too close to you for Sukuna’s comfort.

He flicks the ash off of the end of his cigarette and takes a drag.

~

“Are you sure?”

It’s been a long day.

“We could go get some coffee and just hangout for a bit-”

A really long day.

Granted: working customer service you expected long days. Grating days. Days in which you questioned your faith in humanity. But, that all usually ended when you clocked out for the night and headed home. You could easily forget all of it at the door. Tonight, however, the annoyance of having to save face continues.

You had been trying to give this guy a hint all day as he followed you around, desperate to catch your attention and doing anything to gain a brownie point. It was really starting to tick you off.

Not only that, you knew Sukuna was waiting for you somewhere in the parking lot and it was only a matter of time before this man was decapitated before your very eyes.

Dammit, you just wanted to go home.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I’ve got someone waiting for me. Have a good night!” You try to wave him off, offering a polite smile before you turn your back to him.

"Who's waiting for you?" Sam calls out, still not catching the hint.

Before you can reply, a hand reaches around your waist, securing you to a familiar side- but you've been on edge all day, just waiting for your coworker to make one bold wrong move. On instinct, you snatch the wrist at your hip with a deathgrip before realization is able to save you.

Your eyes whip up to meet Sukuna's smirking gaze, his smile flashing into that serpentine grin that makes your fight or flight mode go off.

"Ohoho-" He chuckles, and there’s a mischievous darkness lurking beneath it. 

"'Kuna!" You ease your grip immediately, cradling his hand in sympathy. Part of you is instantly relieved he’s here to sweep you away, and the other part is sweating over how he’s going to handle this situation.  

Sukuna could be a bit possessive. 

"Good grip." He purrs, snatching up your own hand instead and continuing his original plan of tucking you securely into his side. "You turned your back to the scum bag, though." He tsks quietly. "My brat should know better."

Sukuna easily turns the both of you around, lifting you slightly to move without tripping you. You’re forced to face your coworker once again, although you notice that your unease has dissipated with Sukuna next to you now. 

“Is this...? A-Are you guys…” Sam sneers at Sukuna's sudden appearance, his poorly shaven lip curling up in disgust. 

Sukuna merely hums in response, “Every night while you’re wet dreamin’ about it.”

“S-Sukuna!” You interrupt, squeezing his fingers. Heat burns in your ears and you can feel them going pink under Sam’s now incredulous stare. “Is… my… yes.” You finish quietly, trying to avoid either one of the men watching you. Letting people into your personal life was not something you liked to do, even though you're sure your fiance would love it if you screamed it from the rooftops.

“Aw,” Sukuna makes a fond, sentimental noise and you press your elbow into his rib cage when you hear a mischievous lilt to his tone. 

“You and this guy?” Sam gives Sukuna an obvious once over, crossing his gangly arms over his chest in disapproval. “He’s not even your type!”

Oh.

Maybe this guy deserved a good beating.

Even you were too afraid to look at your fiance at that moment, you could tell by the look on Sam’s face that Sukuna wasn’t happy. 

The scariest part about Sukuna getting angry, was the lack of reaction. There was no glaring. No muscles going rigid. No shouting. There was only this overwhelming sense of danger, like a prey animal realizing it was about to meet its predator. 

Sam tries to fix it, sensing the murderous intent hanging in the air, but his ego still tries to bite: “Look, dude, I don’t mean any harm. I just think she needs a gentleman.”

…

Now that piques your interest.

You need a gentleman?

You almost completely forget about Sukuna for a moment, your head snapping in your coworker's direction with breakneck speed. 

“Gentleman?” You repeat, scoffing. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve been breathing down my neck like a fucking animal in heat all day. Practically begging for half a second of female attention in any form you can get it and you’re standing here-after trying to follow me to my car like some fucking pervert- and you’re trying to tell me you’re a gentleman?”

When you try to take a step forward, you're reminded of Sukuna's unrelenting grip on your hip bone, holding you in place.

“Calm down- all I wanted to do was walk you to your car.” Your ill-favored coworker rolls his eyes, although you can sense his discomfort in the way he takes a few steps away from you. His ego speaks again, and you see red. “You don’t have to be such a bitch about it.” 

What.

“Alright, alright” Sukuna is shoving something cold and jagged into your hands, distracting the sudden confused rage that washes over you. Before you can expel it, he unfastens his hand from around your waist and nudges you in the direction behind him. “Go start the car.”

You blink up at him, taken back by the entire situation. His keys dangle in your frozen fingers, clinking together. 

Sukuna knows you're mad. Knows the only thing on your mind is curb stomping the man in front of you. And you know he won't let you get anywhere near that.

“Come on, Duckie.” He purses his lower lip in a mock pout when you don't turn to leave immediately. There’s something dark glittering behind the faux playfulness in his eyes, reassuring you that nobody was going to get off easy, asking you politely to turn your gaze from what he was about to do.

His calloused thumb sweeps over your fingertips, gliding over the deep red nail polish there. The kiss he presses against your knuckles is one meant for royalty. Soft and sweet. And incredibly persuasive. “I just got these nails done. Lemme keep ‘em pretty for ya.” 

~

When Sukuna opens the driver side door and slides in, fifteen minutes have passed. There’s a smear of blood on his cheek that matches the one on his knuckles, the red catches his eye in the review mirror. He licks his finger, using his spit to try and wipe it off before he turns to meet you, smiling sweetly. 

“What should we get for dinner?"

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level.

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, oral sex (both ways!!), edging?, masturbation (F), praise kink, cursing, light stalking, breaking in, harassing texts/calls, and lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3

A/Ns: Hi babes! This was going to be a short story but she came out kinda long, so I'm going to make it a 2 parter. Don't judge me 🙈 I looove masked men. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time getting more explicit with smut so don't judge me too harshly! xoxo

Snuggled up to Bucky under a comfy blanket with a bowl of extra buttery and salty popcorn, lights turned all the way down, you finally convinced him to watch the movie Scream. While you’ve seen it many times before and are aware of all the jump scares, you still cling onto him a little extra tight in preparation while he is completely unphased. About halfway through the movie, you hear Bucky snort.

“What?” You ask, looking up at him slightly. His face is illuminated by the glow of the tv.

“Something you want to tell me, Doll?” One side of his mouth is tugged up in amusement.

“Bucky, what the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, you sit up to look at him.

He just shakes his head, grinning, “I’m talking about how every time a masked man comes on that screen,” he points to the tv, “you press those pretty little thighs of yours together.”

Your cheeks instantly flush, “You noticed that?”

“I pay attention to everything when it comes to my girl.” Bucky leans back more, resting his arm on top of the couch still grinning, “Tell me about it.” His eyes narrow slightly, something a bit darker lurking, intrigued by this knowledge.

“I don’t know… it’s just like,” you brush your hair behind your ears suddenly feeling embarrassed, “kind of like a kink? A fantasy maybe? There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it I guess?”

By the time you’re done explaining, your hands unknowingly gripped and crossed your chest. Blinking rapidly, you let go and focus back on Bucky who is just watching you intensely.

He nods and purses his lips lightly, “Maybe if I keep watching this movie, I’ll want a masked man for myself,” He teases.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” You grab a fistful of popcorn and throw it at him, sending you both into a laughing frenzy.

"You're cleaning that up, not me." Bucky laughs.

Him and his messes.

He scoops you in close to his body to finish the movie, and later that night he showed you that no masked man from a movie could ever compare to him.

Three weeks later.

While trying to grab your phone and keys out of your bag, you accidentally drop the stack of mail you had just picked up from the landlord’s office on the doormat.

“Shit!” You mutter to yourself. Bending down to pick it up, something catches your eye. Your apartment door is cracked open.

You stand up, discarding the mail and push open the door, “Hello?” You call out, “Bucky?” There’s no response.

Taking a few steps in, nothing looks out of place or any evidence that someone seems to have broken in. You start going through each room, keeping your phone firmly in your hand just in case. But there’s nothing. Walking out of the bedroom you decide you’re going to call Bucky to see how far away he is since he was on his way over, when you find him standing in the kitchen.

“OH! Fuck me-” You jump at the sight of him and grab your chest.

“Hey, Doll!” Bucky says, like the perfect golden retriever boyfriend that he is.

“Did you just get here?” You ask, your heart still pounding.

“Yeah, why?” he asks curiously, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter and taking a bite.

“Um, yeah me too. It’s just-”

“Just… what?” He takes another bite.

“It’s just that... my door was open when I got here?”

“What?” Bucky’s face instantly changes, his eyes wide and anxious, “Go wait in the hallway until I look around.”

“I already did that-”

“Please?” He pleads as he throws out his barely eaten apple, already coaxing you towards the door.

Crossing your arms, you go and wait in the hallway while he looks around. After a few minutes he brings you back in.

“Everything looks to be fine, but I’m going to stay the night just in case.” You breathe a sigh of relief at Bucky’s words.

“Maybe maintenance came in and forgot to lock back up. I was having all those issues with my heater a few months ago,” You try justifying.

“Yeah maybe,” he says, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

About a week later is when the phone calls started.

Initially it was just 1 or 2 a day from a restricted number that you never picked up, assuming it was some kind of solicitation about your car’s extended warranty. But no voicemail was ever left.

As a few weeks went by though, it started to feel like borderline harassment. The number of phone calls jumped to an average of twenty times a day.

Sitting at your work desk your phone continued to violently vibrate, the words Unknown Caller lit up on the screen. You ran your hands through your hair, letting them linger on your scalp, starting to feel stressed every time your phone rang.

"Hey babes!" Hailee, your coworker/bff storms unannounced into your office, "You ready to grab some lu- oh my god. Are they calling you right now?" Obviously aware of the situation, she scurries around your desk in her too high heels and answers your phone. Clearing her throat, "Hi, thank you for calling Tammy's Whorehouse where we suck and fuck. How can I help you?" She taps an inpatient finger on her hip, waiting for a response and then the line goes dead.

Your hands fall down into your lap with an exacerbated breath, "No one ever answers."

"Have you tried tracking the number?" She puts the phone down and sits on top of your desk.

"I've tried calling my cell service, they can't do anything about it. If it keeps up, I just might change my number." You shake your head, "This is going to sound so dumb, but it has me so distracted. Apparently, I've been forgetting to charge my phone at night too? I swear I put it on the charger but then it dies in the night and that's why I've been late to work a few times."

Hailee tilts her head to the side, giving a sympathetic frown. "Sorry, girl. Hey!" She tries perking up, "Why don't we go get lunch and iced coffees? My treat?!" Her bright smile and shimmying shoulders get you to crack a smile. Jumping off your desk she claps her hands, "Yay!"

Suddenly there's a knock at your office door. Both of you stop the mini-iced coffee celebration and snap your attention to the nervous, uniformed teenager standing in the doorway.

"Delivery." he says shyly, looking between the two of you.

Hailee raises an eyebrow and smirks, looking you up and down, "Well, it wasn't delivered to my office."

You roll your eyes as you get up, smoothing your skirt down. Walking up to the boy, he quickly hands you a rather large bouquet of flowers. The intoxicating floral aroma hits you almost immediately, you cannot help but be astounded by the arrangement. Each individual flower is rather large, some darker than others; Ombres of red and burgundy into black.

"They're beautiful," You admire, inhaling deeply. "I don't think I've ever seen these before. Do you know what kind of flowers they are?" You ask the teen curiously.

"Black dahlia's," he recalled, and your stomach felt like it dropped with the mention of the name. "I don't think we've ever gotten a request for those at my family's shop before. That's the only reason I remember," he shrugged.

"Does Bucky have a brother? Because like, are you kidding me right now?" You glanced at Hailee who was making an over-the-top pouty face.

Asking the teen if he had CashApp to tip him, you quickly ushered him off. Searching through the flowers to see if there was a card or any indication that they were in fact from Bucky, but there wasn't.

That night, Bucky came over for dinner. He brought take out from a local Greek place that he really liked, but you were distracted. Just pushing the food around on your plate.

"You okay, doll?" His forehead puckered slightly in question.

"Yeah, um," You shake your head to try and focus, "Hey, thanks for the flowers today. That was super sweet and unexpected," considering you've been kinda stressed.

"Flowers? What flowers?" Bucky's posture stiffens.

"I got flowers delivered to me at work today, I just assumed it... was from you? Maybe it was a mistake then." There were suddenly mixed emotions being stirred around in a frenzy. If Bucky wasn't the one who sent the flowers, then who did? You tried saying they were dropped in your office by accident, but it just didn't feel right. It felt intentional.

"Well, honey, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't me." Bucky stands up from the kitchen table, grabbing his dinner plate. "Are you done?" He asks gesturing to your plate. You nod and he takes it as well, "But it's something I should do, and I'll be more conscious of it. I'm sorry,"

"No, Buck I wasn't-"

His lips press to the top of your head, "No, you're right. If anyone should be doing it, it should be me. Let me take the garbage out for you and we'll have the night to ourselves, yeah? Anything you want."

"Anything?" You repeat, in singsong with a grin.

He shakes his head, scraping the scraps from the plates into the garbage returning the grin, "I like where this is going," Tying off the bag, he holds up two fingers, "give me two minutes," he opens the door to the apartment and starts jogging down the hallway, "two minutes!!" you hear him call out.

The door to the apartment doesn't even fully shut before you hear the familiar buzz coming from your bag. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you angrily push away from the table and stomp over to the counter, dumping out your purse just to see Unknown Caller lit up on your phone.

You hit the green button so hard it doesn't register, so you do it again until it answers, "Hello?! What the FUCK do you want?!" No answer. But this time, you can hear someone breathing heavily. "You need some help. Seriously, leave me the fuck alone!" Hanging up, you slam the phone down onto the counter.

"Doll?" Bucky asks from the doorway, he sighs, "Was it that number bothering you again?"

"Yes!" You answer, flustered. "The next step is to just- change my number! I don't know what else to do."

Bucky steps in, closing in the door behind him with the back of his boot. His lips are pressed in tight line, "C'mere, darlin'," he holds his arms wide open, eyes soft. Dragging your feet, you meet him halfway and lay your head on his chest, "It's gonna be okay," he coos in your ear. "It's just some asshole with nothing better to do. They'll get bored soon enough. Worst case, we'll change your number. We can even go down to the store tomorrow and get you a new phone?" Bucky offers, trying to be optimistic as he caresses your arms up and down.

"I was just really hoping it wouldn't get to that point." You admit, pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him.

"We'll do what we have to." Bucky smiles, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before pressing his lips to yours.

Letting your lips linger a moment as your eyes close, you inhale deeply, taking in the cypress scented soap still lingering on his skin from a shower he took earlier. It's your favorite. Hence why you keep buying it every time he runs out. Bucky's lips separate yours, and when just the tips of your tongues connect, a barely audible whimper escapes your mouth.

Like a gun starting a marathon, it was all Bucky needed to hear. Reaching down and gripping behind your thighs, he hoists you up. With a delighted squeak, you wrap your legs around his torso, laughing but keeping your lips on his as your hands run through his short hair. Using one hand flat against your lower back to keep you pressed into his chest, Bucky's other hand firmly grasped your ass. His fingers purposefully grazing the inseam of your jeans between your legs as he walked towards the bedroom.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, keeping you both upright. You break the mashing of tongues to re-adjust your position and straddle him. Leaning in, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth graze just a tiny bit before letting go. Bucky exhales a drawn out, low groan before licking his lips. The look in his eyes is absolutely carnal as he tugs your shirt over your head and throws it across the room. Not even bothering with your bra, he just pulls the black lace cups down beneath your breasts, propping them up in exposure as he dips down to flick his tongue across your nipple.

Initially it makes you shudder, but as he continues to suck, nibble, lick, repeat, you find reprieve in grinding your hips down into the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Bucky lets out a stifled groan before switching his mouth to your other nipple. You smirk to yourself; you just love to tease this man. Although, if we're being honest, this isn't so easy on you right now either.

Roughly gripping both sides of his face, you bring his lips back to yours. You’re starting to feel needy for more of his touch. Becoming desperate to relieve this fuel lit fire. Bucky’s hands were firmly placed on each of your ass cheeks, assisting your already rolling hips forward and back. He snakes one hand between your bodies, slipping it down the front of your pants, his finger sliding once between your slit. You both moan loudly in unison into the kiss.

"Fuuuck..." Bucky breathed, tilting his head back just slightly that your lips pull apart. "You're already so fucking wet for me," his lascivious eyes lock onto yours, his breathing already becoming rather ragged.

Hearing his debauched voice, knowing just that single glide of his finger has him aching so badly, has ignited a new spark in you. "It's all yours, baby," you purred. Biting the bottom corner of your lip, you slowly get off his lap. Hooking each of your pointer fingers into the front pockets of Bucky's jeans, you encourage him to stand up as you drop to your knees before him.

As he's fumbling with the button and zipper, you stare up at him with tantalizing eyes, your hands firmly grazing along his muscular thighs. Once he's able to get it open, you help start to shimmy down his jeans and boxer briefs passed his hips until they pool on the floor. Bucky's thick, long cock springs up at almost eye level in enthusiasm, instantly making your mouth water. Sticking your tongue out as far as you possibly can, you lock eyes with Bucky and press the tip to your tongue, dragging it to a flick.

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, his body quivered at the first contact. You smile as you taste the initial saltiness on your tongue, licking your lips before hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into your mouth. Bucky exhales deeply, his head starting to tilt back but he stops, making sure he maintains eye contact with you. You draw back, pressing your tongue upward firmly, go forward, and go back again. After a moment, a rhythm gets going, you now move your tongue side to side as you bob front to back, sucking harder.

"That's it," Bucky coaxes, "That's my good fucking girl," a small whimper escapes your throat at his words of praise. You clamp your legs together a little tighter as it's getting harder to ignore the incessant throbbing and growing wet spot between your legs.

The next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail. Grasping his shaft with your hand steadily, you use that to guide your mouth, twisting and gliding easily. You know it's his weakness. Bucky's hips start to buck up into your mouth as he pulls your head down further onto his throbbing cock. Through now teary eyes you’re determined to watch as his face starts to contort with pleasure, his moans music to your ears just as your gagging is to him.

"You look...Ahh...so...fucking...pretty," Each word comes out with a drive of his hips into your mouth. In the dim lighting of the room, completely blissed out on pleasure, he looks like a fucking god. And he's mine. The thought alone is enough to make you explode. "Ugh!" Bucky growls, "I can't take it anymore! C'mere!" With a small 'pop', he pulls out and grabs underneath your arms and tosses you onto the bed.

Giggling, you wipe the excess saliva off your swollen, red lips as you push back further onto the bed. Bucky pulls your jeans and panties down and off in one swift motion before kneeling onto the bed. His eyes are glazed over, solely focused on between your legs. He crawls upward, and it's purely feline as he dips down, his mouth creating a seal and sucking once.

The combination of a loud moan and gasp get ripped straight from your lungs as you practically convulsed off the bed from being so aroused. Bucky quickly and securely locks your thighs in place to keep them open and from you going anywhere. He grinned, watching every single movement.

"Eyes on me, princess," he ordered. Pressing down on your lips, you nodded in anticipation. Leaning in, Bucky skimmed his lips on your very inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss that made your entire abdomen tense.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Fuck," Bucky sits back up on his knees, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans that was still around his ankles. "Hello?" You stare up at him in complete disbelief, "What, now?" He looks down at you on the bed, giving a sympathetic look and mouths 'sorry'. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he drags a hand down his face. "Yeah... yeah. No- I understand... Okay. Yep. I'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone.

"Don't say it," you bite out, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your legs.

Bucky takes a deep breath, "I have to go back, a mission came up."

"Annnd, you said it," you look up at the ceiling, refusing to keep that eye contact that you were so adamant on not even a minute ago.

"It sounded pretty important, Doll." Bucky is off the bed, pulling up his pants and re-adjusting himself in them.

"It always is," you mutter under your breath. Sighing, you just accepted the fact that your night is completely ruined. "So, what you're telling me is, that I'm getting cock blocked by The Avengers?"

Bucky sits on the bed, placing a delicate hand on your cheek, "I'm really sorry. I'll make this up to you tenfold, promise." He kisses you softly, "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as I can. I love you," He offers a small smile.

You sigh, knowing you can never let him leave on bad terms, "I love you too, Buck." Sitting up you give him a hug and a few extra kisses that probably made him late.

Still sitting in bed after Bucky had gone, you felt irrationally irritated by how he left. Tapping on your thighs, a headache was already brewing from the pent-up sexual tension that you were unable to get out. That's when you suddenly remembered a little something on your phone that might just help you out in this situation. There was this one particular time you and Bucky decided to record yourselves having sex, and you've never went back and watched it. If there was ever a time to go back and do so...

Excitedly, you go over to the dresser. You pull open your underwear drawer and dig through all the way to the back, where you stash your favorite vibrator. You click the silicone button a few times to make sure it's charged, and all the intensity settings worked before laughing menacingly to yourself and closing the drawer. Tossing the toy onto the bed, you walk out to the kitchen.

Your phone was where you had left it earlier, still slammed face down on the counter. Sashaying over, you notice that there's an applecore sitting next to it. This is odd, because you didn't have one and Bucky is normally very meticulous when it comes to cleaning and picking up after himself. Going to throw it out, you realize there is no garbage bag in the trash can and suddenly it makes sense. Bucky was in a rush to leave; he probably didn't have the time to replace the bag. So, you do it yourself, and throw out the eaten fruit.

Getting back to your room with your phone, you notice that your underwear drawer is open. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you look from the bed, to the dresser, back to the bed. I could have sworn I closed that. Then again, maybe it's just the headache coming on. You close the dresser drawer, and all too eagerly jump under the covers.

The ambiance for a little 'self-love' right now is almost too perfect. Your bedroom is dimly lit with only a mood lamp and the fog covered streetlamps from down below your apartment. The light patter of rain hit against your bedroom window and fire escape underneath it, while some light thunder rolled some distance away.

Scrolling through your phone, it wasn't hard to find exactly what you were looking for. Pressing 'play', you're watching a side view of you taking Bucky from the back. Your mouth drops open slightly, seeing it from a third person view. Bucky has his Vibranium hand on the side of your face, pushing you down further into the mattress and he is just relentless. And the sounds, God the sounds. You grab the vibrator, turning it on and quickly placing it onto your already sensitive and swollen clit and start rubbing it and soft circles.

"Look at how good you take it,"

"Oh, God!"

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Mhm,"

"I can't hear you, princess,"

"Can I come Bucky? Please, please let me..."

"Of course, my good girl can come. Here... lean down more...open those legs wider...touch yourself...yeah...fuck, yeah...just like that baby,"

The bed is practically shattering underneath you as Bucky, who isn't even there, coaxes you into having an orgasm with yourself. You rub the vibrator more intensely, knowing you’re about to come hard from the pent-up tension this evening. The lights surge briefly in the apartment from the passing storm, just as your head presses down further against the pillows and the ripples of pleasure aggressively take over your body.

The lights go out momentarily, and that's when you see the silhouette of a tall, dark hooded figure standing on your fire escape looking into your window.

The lights come back on a second later and you’re panting. Both from the release and from what you saw. The cognizance hits you that you just came in front of a total stranger. Oh, and maybe that I might have a stalker.

The cops came, looked around, made you feel like an idiot, took a report, and left. Not feeling comfortable staying in the apartment for the night, you called Hailee, who offered up her spare bedroom.

Sitting across from you with her legs crossed on the couch, her hair in a bonnet, a glass of wine, and blue raspberry vape, she leaned in, listening intently to the details leading up to this moment.

“Soo… you know I’m gonna ask,” she starts.

You sigh, “I don’t know when I’m going to tell Bucky. I always feel so guilty when he’s away and something happens.”

Hailee’s face scrunches as she waves her hand in dismissal, “No, no not that,” You raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Can I see it?” She lowers her voice, but it’s oozing with hope.

“Bitch,” both your eyebrows raise in aghast, realizing what she’s actually asking.

“What?! Come onnnn,” She whines, pressing her hands together in plead and pouts her lip.

“Oh my god, Hailee! No! Just… no.”

Rolling her eyes she composes herself again, “Okay, so like, you ever just… look at a man, and you just know?” Her hands wave around as she’s trying to explain, “Like, that man can fuck? I feel like that’s Bucky. And so…” Hailee looks so determined right now, “s-shame on you!” She points directly at you, this is comical, “for not sharing the video evidence! Because now I’m convinced you have a boring, vanilla sex life!”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter sipping your glass of water, you hear yourself coming down from the highs of ecstasy through your phone. Hailee’s wide eyes are glued, mouth dropped open, speechless, for once. The sound finally cuts off.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother because-”

You quickly snatch the phone out of her hand, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Can we be serious now?!”

“Yeah,” Hailee shakes her head, “yeah, of course…” she takes a deep breath, “I’m just saying, you seriously have some career options if your current job doesn’t work out though.”

“Hailee!!”

“Okay! I’m sorry!” Her hands go up in a surrender, “but you put in a police report, and I mean, of course you can stay here. What else are you going to do?”

*Ding*

“Hang on, I just got a text.”

“Who the fuck would be texting you this late?” Hailee asks, getting off the couch to read the text with you over your shoulder.

Together you read the message:

Part 2

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

[cherrybr4t]

seungcheol just needs a break from studying!

+18, MDNI!!

warnings: smut, profanities, p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, cheol praises reader a lot in this, fem!reader, public sex, dni if uncomfy! college au kinda!

a/n: first!!!work!!!! hello tumblr carats, decided to come out of lurking, and get some writing done too 😈 hope ya’ll like it n pls feel free to comment/reblog and let me know what u think of it!!

“babydollll” the man clad in a wrinkled linen blue button up crouches down beside you, while you were typing away.

mid-season of the semester meant assignments piling up and you were determined to not leave your side of the library booth until you’ve numbed your fingers.

opting for selective hearing, you furrowed your eyebrows, typing faster to drag on your train of thoughts.

“ow!” you whisper-yelled when you felt a slight pinch on your thigh.

“what the hell was that for cheollie..” you self soothed and finally tuned your vision to your left, only to see your boyfriend biting his lips; holding in a chuckle.

“why did you ignore me the first time then,” he reached out and gave your nose a little tap, causing you to scrunch your nose; not getting used to it though cheol probably does it 20 times a day.

“i’m trying to maintain my tunnel vision babe, you know me” sticking your tongue out, returning to your keyboard, crackling some knuckles.

“all right wait, i need a break. and so do you, you’re coming with me to get some snacks — ah ah ah nope, not hearing it.” cheol grabs you by your shoulders, ushering you to get up, shooting down any excuses beforehand that he was expecting.

knowing how he is, you sighed before standing up, “i wasn’t gonna say anything..”

“right..” he smirked before finding your hand and interlocking them, leading you both towards..the hallway behind the level leading to the toilet..?

“wow babe new snack hot spot?” you snickered. without saying anything, he dragged you both into the old toilet, before locking the door behind you.

“hey. missed my babydoll.” he grabbed your face in his hands before peppering them in kisses, leaving the last to land on your lips, oh the cherry lips he loves so much. giggling, you wrapped your hands around his neck, interlocking them, “missed you too,” catching his lips again, kissing him back with more fervour.

“needed my hourly refill of my favourite snack, felt like i was dying; looking but not being able to taste” he mumbled against your lips, not wanting to break apart. “you’re so dramatic,” rolling your eyes playfully, you pulled his neck closer, urging him to continue making out. causing him to chuckle against your lips.

“mm babydoll.. fuck, love it when you roll your eyes at me, always needing me to turn my brat into my good girl..” stunned at the switch of demeanour, you gulped and licked your lips, stomach churning at his words.

“what’s wrong, cat got your tongue?” cheol ran his fingers across your lips, before sliding a finger into your mouth. licking around his fingers, you started sucking them lightly with eagerness in your eyes.

looking at you with hazy eyes and heavy eyelids, cheol slipped his finger out before reaching under your dress, immediately going for the nub under your thin underwear.

as if it was a button, activating something in you, you squirmed under his trap with your back against the wall, letting out a small whimper as he continued to draw lazy circles around your clit, slightly pushing your hips towards him.

“can never get enough of you, baby doll. even when i’m studying all i can think about is how pretty you looked in front of me, so focused.. so diligent my baby..” he leaned in, lips eager to ravage yours as he joined his index finger with his middle, slicking them with your juices, busy capturing your gasp and moans while he inserted his thick fingers into your soaking and warm cunt.

“just wanna make you feel good, you deserve it today don’t you babydoll? you deserve to cum all over my fingers, on my lips, especially while wrapped around my cock;”

“mm..mhmm fuckk” you dragged out a whine, nodding your head eagerly. “i do.. i do cheollie, that’s all i want”

“gonna fuck you so good all you can think about is me and my cock, that’s all your pretty head needs to be filled with right now princess,”

without wasting any time, he lifted up your dress before going down on his knees, pulling down your flimsy pink cloth. lips immediately finding your clit, he started by teasing with tiny licks, looking up at you while his tongue was playing with your nub. your reactions were all he needed, he could honestly come undone just looking at your face whenever he was pleasuring you.

taking it in his mouth harshly, he sucked on it and played with it with his tongue at the same time, while his fingers were still working hard massaging your warm and soft cunt, getting it ready to take him. your quickening heartbeat felt at the tip of his tongue transmitted straight into his cock, feeling it begging to be let out of restrain.

“fuuck cheollie, right there, i-i’m so close already” you leaned your head against the wall, exasperated moans leaving your lips. cheol knew just where to touch you, how to get you there quicker than anyone else could’ve.

determined to get your release on his lips asap, he increased his speed, both fingers and mouth working like crazy, letting out a groan when he saw the fucked up look painted all over your face.

“that’s it babydoll that’s it, can feel you clenching soo fucking tight. need you to come all over me right now,” the mumble of dirty words sent shivers down your back. “you can do that for me right? my pretty girl,” with his thumb moving to rub tight and fast circles around your clit, and his praises straight to your cunt, you felt the tight knot in ur lower abdomen breaking free as your release wash all over you in an instant.

“ahh fuck..i’m there i’m there babe..” you whined as the warm feeling flowed through your legs, shaking, with cheol holding you steady.

“so good for me babydoll, fuck…always so sweet, the best snack any day,” he cleaned up the juices with his tongue, before standing back up. looking at his red pouty lips covered in your essence, with the fucked out looked in his eyes, you needed him to be inside you asap.

pulling the zipper of his pants down, he reached down inside his boxers, pulling out his already hard and red length leaking with precum, “see what you do to me babydoll.. i almost came at the sight of you cumming on my mouth,” letting out a groan, he stroked his length while leaving kisses down your neck.

“you’re too addicting..think you can handle one more baby? need to feel you around me before i lose it,”

“yes cheol yes… please..need you in me now too.. i’m all yours to do whatever you wanna,” losing all inhibitions, completing forget where you were in the first place.

propping you up, he lined up his cock before sliding into you effortlessly. the gasps of relief and pleasure escaped both of you simultaneously.

“fuck baby.. my princess, made for me, made just for this cock. this is where you belong,” cheol tilts his head up lost in the feeling of being inside you, but not taking his eyes of you any second.

“feels so fucking perfect babydoll, you make me feel so complete,” the end of his sentence drags out in a small whine, with you dragging your nails along his biceps, moaning and clenching around him as you felt like the only girl in the world at his words, being handled so roughly yet gently at the same time.

“c-cheol…wanna come again.. can i come again?” you hiccuped mid sentence, needing so desperately for him to push you to the edge again. cheol groans, needing you to cream his cock asap, “come on baby, my good girl, rub yourself for me,” he takes your tits out of your bra, almost ripping your dress strap in the way.

rubbing your nipples with his rough fingertips, he presses and rubs circles, groping the flesh in the process. you rubbed your own clit faster at the sensation, feeling overwhelmed and so close to falling over the edge.

“cheol. baby, fuck i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum i,” the end of your sentence broke into cries as you came for the second time, clenching so hard around cheol as he feels your juices and walls sucking him in even more.

“fuuuuuck that’s it, my good fucking girl.” he continues pinching and playing with your tits as you came down from your high. “gonna make me cum right now,” he hastens his thrusts, eager to spill his load all inside you. within seconds, he grips a handful of your hair, biting down your neck and releases a hot thick load of cum inside you. letting out the hottest string of moans and groans straight to your neck.

you both stayed there for a hot minute as you both slowed down your breaths. he cupped your cheeks in his palm as he gazed at you lovingly, “i love you,” you scrunched up ur nose, “i love you more cheol,”

he slowly pulled out before hurrying to get some tissues, as well as some drenched in tap water to clean you up immediately, kissing your thighs in the process.

“you did so well for me princess, you always do.” you giggled and pulled him up to you, hands encircling around his neck, giving him a peck. “and you always treat me so good cheol, always”

hands tight around your waist, he snuggled again on the side of your neck, “let’s get some actual snacks before heading back babe.”

a/n: thanku luvies for reading, like, comment/reblog if you liked it, drop by my account if you’d like to see more/be friends! 🖤

[wonsdoll]

COME BACK 2 ME ⌇ LHS

╰—— ❛ 𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 ‘𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗄’ 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌

💌 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗑 𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ୭ৎ 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖾2𝗉𝗅 ✧ ‿︵ 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗑𝗂𝖼 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𖥔 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 ^_^ ( 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 ?! )

you and heeseung have been broken up for a few months now, you were over him but by looks of it, heeseung wasn’t over you. he would lurk around your house and areas he knew you’d be in, just to see you.

heeseung would constantly tell his friends he’s going to win you back. he had quite the plan and mapped it out perfectly.

“so first you’re gonna call her and scare her…” yeonjun looked at him, his eyebrows raised.

“and then you’re gonna go around her house and mess around with her?” beomgyu questions, unsure of this plan.

heeseung shrugs nonchalantly, “yeah i suppose, y/n gets scared super easily.

yeonjun exchanged a glance with beomgyu, both unsure of heeseung’s idea but unwilling to dampen his determination. they’d seen him go through the breakup, while his plan seemed unconventional, they both knew how much he cared for you.

the night of the plan arrived, as well as halloween night. heeseung found himself parked on your block, just a few houses down so you wouldn’t see his car. the moon casted an eerie shadow on the quiet street. heeseung’s heart raced with excitement and a mix of nerves as he pulled out his phone, his fingers hovering over the call button.

heeseung tapped the screen, putting the phone to his ear. it rang a few times before you answered, your voice slightly confused.

“hello?”

heeseung suppressed his grin, deepening his voice to sound unrecognizable. “do you like scary movies y/n?”

you hesitated, a playful tone in your voice wavering. “whos this?”

“someone you know…” heeseung replied, his voice low and menacing. “i’m outside your house.”

you froze, glancing towards the window of your living room. the curtains fluttered slightly due to the breeze, but you couldn’t see anybody. “this isn’t funny..”

a small chuckle escaped heeseung’s lips. “oh but i think it is. why don’t you come outside and play with me?”

“stop it!” you snapped, hanging up the phone with shaky hands.

the phone rang again, almost instantly. this time you didn’t answer, instead you locked all your doors and checked every window.

meanwhile outside, heeseung smirked, watching the faint silhouette of you moving around the house. he quickly pulls out his phone, sending a quick text to yeonjun and beomgyu.

heeseung: phase one completed.

yeonjun: you’re crazy man.

beomgyu: don’t get yourself killed.

heeseung placed his phone into his pocket and moved towards the back of your house. his foot steps were light and barely audible, he searched for a way in.

inside, you paced back and forth, your phone clutched in your hand tightly. you glanced at your screen, debating whether you should call someone. just as you were about to call a friend, the lights flickered, and the sound of a door creaking open echoed throughout the house.

your heart skipped a beat. “who’s this?” you called out, hoping maybe it was a friend who was just trying to play a stupid joke.

the only response gave you goosebumps.

you heard a faint whisper. “ i’m right behind you.”

you spun around, eyes widened with fear. you were face to face with a masked man, wearing a black cloak. out of fear, you ran to your bedroom, not looking back to see if the masked figure was catching up to you.

once heessung heard the bedroom door shut, he ran outside of the house, quickly removing the mask and cloak. he pushed the clothes into a nearby bush and fixed his appearance, running his fingers through his hair and straightening his outfit.

heeseung ran into your house, busting your bedroom door open. “y/n are you okay? i heard noises and saw the lights flickering.” he called out for you.

you turned to him, your eyes full of fear. “heeseung! oh my god, someone was in the house.. trying to scare me.” you rambled, your voice shaking as you reached for him.

heeseung goes by your side in an instant, wrapping his arms around you protectively. “shhh it’s okay… i’m here now.” he soothed, gently rubbing circles along your back.

you cling to him, your heart still pounding. “i was so scared…”

“i know.” heeseung muttered, running his fingers through your hair, as one hand rested on your lower back protectively.

heeseung’s heart raced with a mix of guilt and satisfaction. the plan worked better than he imagined, and he couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of triumph as you buried your face in his chest.

as he held you close, a small part of him wondered if he had taken things too far. but for now, he was content with the way you clung to him for safety, completely oblivious to the truth.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.

Does that even make any sense?😭

Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit

Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope

TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy

Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌

Dear (Y/N),

I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.

Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.

I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.

I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.

I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.

I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.

I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.

I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.

I want to go every where you go.

I want to slow dance with you.

I want to head bang with you.

I want to paint with you.

I want to sing to you.

I want to hold you.

I want you.

I love you.

I’m in love with you.

And I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Sally <3

Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.

Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.

~next morning~

‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.

You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.

Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“

You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.

“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.

“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.

As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.

“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.

“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.

“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.

And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol

[perlelune]

Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | iv.

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: NON-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A smile blooms on your lips as you watch Tilly play hopscotch with her friend near the street. Snow’s melted enough this morning to be able to draw chalk patterns on the cobblestones. The young girl woke up excited to enjoy the day. And while you’re nowhere as thrilled, seeing the joy and life return to her gaze is more than enough for you. 

The little girls’ buoyant laughs fill the street and you let yourself bask in the moment. It’s rare that you get time to yourself lately.  Your shifts at the factory take up most of your time. And you’ve been spreading yourself thin, hoping to keep concerns at bay by remaining busy. White wisps surround you as you blow a long breath. You readjust your scarf and rub your gloved hands. Cold air seeps through the tiny holes in your gloves. You’ll need to stay after hours on your next shift to mend them. Perhaps you could even purloin enough throwaway remnants of wool to make Tilly a new pair. She’ll soon outgrow hers.

Besides, her health might have improved for now, but you never stop worrying about her catching another cold, one that might be deadlier than the last.

Lost in contemplation, you draw a sharp breath when an object drops from the sky onto your lap. Your eyes widen as you lower them. A pair of knitted gloves rests in your lap. They’re clearly brand new and the wool quality is unlike anything you’ve ever laid eyes on. You can tell from the thickness and vibrancy of the twining threads. You’re tempted to give it a brush with your fingertips, revel in the warmth oozing from the fabric. But you refrain.

“I don’t want that,” you snap, whipping your head up.

A towering, lanky frame clad in the peacekeeper’s signature blue uniform fills your sight. 

You toss the gloves at him and he catches them with a deep sigh. He sits near you on the steps. The hairs on the back of your neck bristle with his proximity, his broad shoulder grazing yours as he turns to study you.

You shiver as his gaze runs along your frame. You don’t look at him. You don’t want to. You’ve done your best to forget about him these last few weeks, even if his ever-lurking presence is hard to ignore. Whatever you do, wherever you are, he’s never hovering too far away.

He seizes your hands, forcefully slipping the gloves on your frostbitten fingers.

“Come on, you’re freezing,” he says. Your lips tighten as you meekly comply. Arguing with the peacekeeper has never worked in your favor. So why even try? You let him put the gloves on you, cursing the comfort you feel when the warm fabric hugs your fingers. An absent thought drifts in your head as you admire the wool. You never owned anything this nice. The quality evokes the clothes that usually head straight to the Capitol.

All the nice things go to them first while District dwellers beg for scraps.

Coriolanus leans back, his large hands spreading over his knees. His stance is far too relaxed for your taste and you shrink further on your side of the narrow stairs. 

As his icy blue orbs settle on your cousin and her friend, you tense.

“She seems to be doing well. I’m assuming the medicine helped,” he notes, smugness oozing from his words. His attention scorches your skin as you pointedly evade his stare. You loathe the satisfaction he draws from this. More leverage to use against you. More opportunities to make you feel small, helpless.

“What are you doing here?” you curtly ask.

His small chuckle makes your stomach coil.

“Is this any way to greet a friend?” His tone becomes light, playful. “Especially one that comes bearing gifts?” 

Your brows knit. “Friends…”

Hot air tickles your earshell as he bends over you, whispering, “The closest of friends.”

Your heart skips a beat.

He grabs your chin, angling your face towards his. A shuddered breath leaves your lips as stark blue eyes drink you in. “Really birdie, not even a smile? Come now.”

You nudge a tremulous smile onto your lips. 

His thumb grazes your trembling bottom lip as his mouth twists skyward. “Better,’ he praises quietly.

A winning glint sways in his eyes and your stomach lurches. 

“Hi!”

Tilly’s cheerful voice shatters the moment. Coriolanus releases you and relief billows inside your chest. 

He beams at the young girl, replying in a similar tone, “Hi.”

Your young cousin bounces on her feet, excitement rounding her gaze as she admires  the peacekeeper. Your frown deepens at the exchange.

“I’m Tilly,” she announces solemnly, offering her hand to shake.

Coriolanus laughs as he takes it, mirth lighting up his handsome face.

“I know. I know all about you.” A mix of shock and awe decorates the young girl’s features with that information, as if the peacekeeper knowing anything about her was the most extraordinary thing in the world. “I’m a friend of your cousin. My name’s Coriolanus.”

“Coriolanus,” she repeats, as if mesmerized by the sound of his name alone.

“Here. I have something for you,” he says. 

He reaches inside the pocket of his uniform and pulls out a bag. Your cousin jumps, her eyes sparkling with joy when he hands it to her.

“Candy!” she exclaims. 

Your face pinches at the sight of the colorful sweets in the bag. These aren’t easy to acquire. 

“Tilly…”

“What?”

The young girl’s expression is dejected as she looks at you, almost like she can sense your disapproval and is preparing to return the gift. Your shoulder sag. You don’t have it in you to refuse her this small sliver of delight. 

You shake your head and smile.

“Nothing.” You hunker in front of her. “We should go back inside.”

“But I want to play…” she pouts.

“You have chores. And Coriolanus…” Your eyes lift to him. Amusement hasn’t left his expression. “is very busy.”

He doesn’t say anything as you shove your cousin inside the house. He lingers by the door and you fidget beneath his heavy stare.

“I’m guessing you have…somewhere to be.”

His gaze drags over you as a small smile dances on his lips.

“Yes, I hear I’m very busy,” he teases. Shock fills you when he leans to brush his mouth against your cool cheek. “See you soon, birdie,” he mumbles, his deep voice making your stomach flutter.

You’re relieved when he finally leaves. You chase away the peculiar sensation his closeness sparked as you shut the door.

You don’t get time to collect yourself,  your little cousin immediately asking, “Is he your boyfriend?”

The pitch of your voice goes high with shock. 

“What? Are you crazy?”

Tilly frowns. “But I saw him kissing you.”

Heat nestles in your cheeks. Maybe from an outsider’s perspective, Coriolanus’ closeness could be misinterpreted, the peacekeeper perpetually crowding your space despite your reluctance. Still, you can’t believe it’s what the little girl thinks from looking at the two of you. 

It couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Every fiber of your being burns with hatred for him.

“No, we weren’t. It wasn’t…” you sputter, your embarrassment cresting as the excitement in your cousin’s eyes doesn’t dwindle. “He wasn’t kissing me. We were just talking.”

“About girlfriend and boyfriend stuff,” she insists. 

You sigh. You approach her and grip her shoulders. 

“Tilly, I need you to promise me something.”

She blinks up at you. “Yes?”

You crouch before her so you’re at eye level. 

“You need to stay away from peacekeepers.”

She purses her mouth, glancing down at the bag of candy.

“Yes, but Coriolanus…he was nice to me.”

Your stomach sinks.

“Well, Coriolanus isn’t like the others.”

She nods in understanding. You’re glad she doesn’t ask any further questions. You wouldn’t know how to begin to explain your relationship with him.

Not in any way that makes sense at least.

For a fortnight, you don’t see much of him. You bask in the tranquility of your usual routine, going back and forth, from home to work, and preparing to celebrate the end of the year with your cousin. It won’t be lavish, of course, but you’re hoping to save up enough from your wages to get Tilly a teddy and perhaps even a toy this year.

While most of your family has passed away, you want to cherish the things you still have. Perhaps you can even create new memories for your cousin, happier memories. She has been bedridden for months now and it’ll be the first holiday she’ll get to truly enjoy as a healthy, normal child. 

He appears again as you’re working your usual shift, casually switching places with another guard. While you pointedly avoid looking in his direction, you feel the weight of his unwavering eyes, watching you as always.

Still, you diligently weave the silk on your loom. Your attention cannot stray. One mistake and the fabric will be ruined. 

“Your shadow’s there,” Yara notes from her station right next to yours.

Your eyes flick upward briefly as you nod.

“Yeah.”

Silence hangs in the air a while before your friend speaks again.

“It doesn’t seem to bother you that much.”

You shrug. “I’m getting used to it.”

Her eyes land on the gloves peeking from the pocket of your long skirt.

“By the way, I meant to ask…Is that from him?”

You hesitate a little before begrudgingly admitting, “Yes.”

She moves her head in acknowledgement. 

“I see, gifts now.”

Stepping on the treadle to slow down the motion of your loom, you snap your head to Yara.

There was something in her tone just then, an implication you didn’t like.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She shakes her head and scoffs, “It’s just interesting, is all.”

“My hands were cold,” you defend.

“You could have thrown them away. I made my own. It’s what we do every year. Make our own.” Her gaze locks with yours. Licking her lips, she seems to mull over something before she asks,  “Is there something going on between you two? I mean other than what I already know.”

Your face grows hot.

“There is nothing.”

She studies you for a few minutes before turning her focus back to her loom.

“Right,” she says.

Your annoyance mounting, you give the treadle a vigorous push and start weaving faster.

You let your friend’s prickly comments fade somewhere in the back of your mind. You have no desire to explore this dangerous line of thought any further. 

There is indeed nothing going on between you and the peacekeeper. You keep repeating it to yourself as your fingers assemble the threads as if your life depended on it. 

It helps you ignore the way your blood races in your veins.

Relief fills you when your shift ends. Tension built in your body and firmly remained since Yara began questioning you. You can still feel it in the stiffness in your limbs, the heaviness in your chest. You make haste as you dart across the hallways, eager to return home.

Your escape is halted by a pair of strong arms pulling you in a dark corner of the factory. 

You look up at him through wide eyes. That teasing smile you’ve grown all too familiar with decorates his lips.

“Why the rush, sweet bird?”

“Coriolanus…” You step back from him. “Can’t you just leave me be, just once?”

He approaches you, forcing you to shrink against the wall. He cages you, his hands on each side of you as he drinks you in. You dip your head, overwhelmed with the scent of roses washing over you. 

“I can’t actually.” Warmth swirls in your belly as his tone lowers. “Look at me.” He puts two fingers below your chin to angle it upward. His eyes narrow. “You’re upset.”

“Just had a long day,” you elude with a shrug. 

He scrutinizes you. Your mouth quakes, his silence unnerving you. 

After some time, he finally announces, “I’m getting discharged soon.”

“Oh, where?”

“I’m getting sent back to the Capitol.”

You gape at him. That’s not what you expected to hear. Though you surmise it makes sense, with him being around less. A strange mix of feelings surges inside your chest. But mostly, relief, freedom. You’ll be able to breathe properly again, without the uneasy attention of the peacekeeper tailing you everywhere you go. 

Though you try not to let your emotions show. You give a tilted smile.

“Isn’t that a good thing? You get to go home, return to your life.”

His knuckles sweep over the apple of your cheek. 

“Well…I’ll miss some things about District 8.”

You clear your throat. “I should get back home.”

“Meet me tonight,” he says bluntly. 

“What for?”

His eyes darken, running over your trembling frame. His thumb skims over your bottom lip.

“I’m leaving. We should celebrate, just the two of us.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You truly hoped to avoid…colliding with the peacekeeper again, in any way, but you suppose it was inevitable. One way or another, he’d have asked for more of you, simply because he could. Your fate is in his hands after all. He could easily make your life here hell just by whispering in the right ears.

Still, you can’t help voicing a feeble protest.

“Is that necessary?”

His eyes flare with danger. Your breath snags as he grips your jaw, his fingers digging painfully into your cheeks. Your pulse thrums beneath his palm.

“I don’t want to be mean to you right now, so don’t make me.” Though his tone is soft, his expression is harsh and inflexible. “Just do as I say.”

You give a shaky nod.

“S-See you tonight.”

He releases your face and you take a deep breath. His crooked smile is wide and victorious as he hops away from you.

“I look forward to it, sweet bird.”

You put a hand on your chest as he disappears, willing your thundering heart to slow down. You find comfort in a single thought. At least, after tonight, you will finally be rid of the peacekeeper.

[fic-over-cannon]

Part 1: The Meeting

part 2 | series master list | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: a friendship with jason todd hovers on the edge of something more but there are reasons lurking just out of sight that complicate things.

tags: fluff

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.6k

a/n: this first chapter is fairly light, but this series is intended to get much darker in tone and content. i’ve got most of the series planned out so i’m going to try and be more consistent with updates (but no promises).

The first time you see Jason Todd, he’s chewing on the end of a pen and staring off into space. He’s in your Theories of Poststructuralist Literature class, sitting two rows up and one seat to the left of you. What catches your eye is how lonely he looks. The seats around him are empty and there’s an air of loneliness to him that goes beyond first day jitters. The professor’s at the front, still unpacking her bag, so you’ve got still got a few minutes to stare as much as you’d like. Your friend, looking up from where she’s fiddling with her computer notices your interest, knocks her elbow into you.

“So who’s that,” she says in an undertone, “your new classroom crush?”

“Oh I am not that bad,” you retort, mock offence dripping from your words. “No, I just think he looks lonely.”

“Yeah, and cute.” This time you elbow her, hoping he didn’t hear Danika over the sounds of shuffling chairs and feet. Mercifully, the professor clears her throat to begin class, cutting off whatever else your friend was going to tease you with.

“All right, welcome to Theories of Poststructuralist Literature. I’m Dr. Okafor, and I’ll be…”

Throughout the rest of class, you can’t stop stealing glimpses of him out of the corner of your eye. Danika has to prod you twice to get you to take a copy of the syllabus and pass it along the stack of papers. You manage to pay attention just long enough during the self-introductions to find out that his name is Jason, and that he’s doing a degree specialization in British Literature. Class ends a half-hour early and your head’s already swimming, a list of readings and concepts already tripping up your thoughts. It means that you’re distracted, not paying attention to what your friend’s doing as you scramble to get your things situated back into your bag.

“Hey! Hey new guy!” Your head snaps up at the sound of Danika’s voice, loud and moving away from you. To your horror, she’s walking right up to Jason, and worse, he’s starting to look around for who she’s talking to. With no one else around him, it becomes evident that there’s no one else she could be addressing.

“Yes, you. Hi! I’m Danika. Me and my friend,” she gestures lazily back at you and you can already feel the mortification burning up your cheeks, “were planning to meet up with some other friends in the program for lunch after class. Want to join us?”

“Oh, um, sure? I need to talk to Dr. Okafor first, but I can meet you both right after.” He says, a little bit flustered by the invitation. He runs his fingers through his curls as he speaks, you notice.

“Great! We’ll just wait outside for you.” Satisfied, your wayward friend turns around and grins, giving you a thumbs up from where only you can see it.

“Seriously?! What was that?” You hiss at her when she finally reaches you.

“What, you said he looked lonely. Now, he’ll be less lonely. C’mon, have you texted the group chat yet that we’ve got a plus one for lunch?” Shouldering your bags, you pick your way out of the classroom, hopping over errant bag straps littering the aisle and maneuvering around people going through the motions of first day back greetings. Keeping Danika’s blonde head in sight, you pull out your phone and shoot off a message, slipping it back into your pocket before there’s time for any responses. She’s already waiting for you by the door, one hand twisting the ends of her hair in the way she only does when she’s uncertain.

“Really though, is it okay that he’s coming to lunch with us? Because I can go right back in there and tell him you suddenly came down with a stomach bug and I have to get you home.” Her concern cools the panic and annoyance knotting your stomach.

“No it’s fine.” She gives you a look, the one that says she doesn’t believe you. “Really. I’m kind of annoyed you didn’t ask me first but it’s whatever. Best case scenario, we get a new friend out of this. Worst case, he goes back to just being classroom crush.”

“I knew it!” She crows. “Wait, wait this is big. You never talk to your classroom crushes. Do you need to practice your pick up lines on me?” Faux seriousness drips off of her. Jason appears as if summoned, popping up behind Danika’s shoulder with uncanny quietness.

“Hey Jason, were you able to talk to the prof?” You ask, forcibly trying to keep your voice casual. Danika freezes, mouths sorry at you, before whirling around to face him.

“Yeah, thanks for waiting. And thanks for inviting me to lunch.”

“Anytime!” Smoothly your friend steps in to direct conversation. “We were just planning to head to the food court in the student union.” She starts walking, confident that the two of you will follow her and you do. “So Jason, how come we’ve never met before this class? Between our friend group, I think we’ve met or at least know of all,” she waits for your nod in confirmation, “of the literature and writing students in our graduating class.”

He exhales before answering, taking the moment to gather his story together. “I’m a transfer student. I started my degree a couple of years ago but had to stop for family reasons. I finally got the chance to get my records together so I could transfer to Gotham U and finish the last few credits to get my diploma.”

“But you’re from Gotham originally?” You can’t quite keep the weight of Jason’s full attention on you yet, breaking eye contact but still feeling his eyes on you. “Your accent sounds a lot like the neighbourhood I grew up in.”

“Gotham born and bred. The city called me home.”

At the entrance to the food court, Danika catches sight of your friends first, waves excitedly over at them, before heading off at a rush to the booth they’ve secured. She leaves you and Jason to trail behind in her wake.

“So you’re from Crime Alley then?” Jason takes the chance to ask you.

“Hmmm? Oh yeah, my family lived there until I was maybe 12 or 13. I moved back when I started at Gotham U because it was the only area I could afford without roommates.”

“I’m back in that neighbourhood too. D’you know that place—”

The two of you reach the table with your friends and then there’s no time for him to finish whatever he was planning to say.

“Everyone, this is Jason. Jason, this is Will, Rei, and Catalina.” As Danika introduces them, each person gives a nod or little wave. Will, as always, seems bored by everything going on around him that isn’t related to the book in his hand. Rei’s got one arm around Catalina where she’s curled into his side. He lifts his hand quickly in a sort of half wave, a genuine grin causing his cheeks to push his glasses up his face.

“Please, call me Lina,” Catalina says warmly. “Sit down, sit down, tell us all about yourself and why we haven’t seen your pretty face around here before.” If you didn’t know her any better, you’d say that Lina was flirting with him. Since you do know her, have since your Intro to Creative Writing in first year, you know that this is just what Lina’s like. Always a compliment for everyone ready on her tongue, unafraid to say a good thing no matter how it might appear. Jason, having only been introduced to her seconds before, did not know better. A tinge of red dusts the top of his cheekbones and he rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck.

Trying to ease the moment, you say, “Here, do you want to sit down first before the interrogation begins?” You gesture to one of the two open seats right next to Will, Danika having slipped into the empty spot beside Lina. She must have hurried over to say something to them, because this isn’t your usual seating configuration and it’s got you a bit wrong footed.

“No, no it’s fine. You go first. D’you need me to hold your bag or something?” He offers instead.

“I’ve got it. I’ll just tuck it under my legs so there’s enough room.” You slide into the booth, Jason close behind. It’s a bit cramped with the three of you on one bench. Jason’s pressed up along the length of your side, and you can feel Will’s knobby elbow digging into your rib. In such close quarters, you can’t help but notice just how big Jason is. Your head barely clears his shoulder and unseen below the table you can tell his knee extends far past yours.

“I was just telling these two that I’m a transfer student. Only a few more classes and then I graduate at the end of the year.”

“Any plans for the great beyond yet?” Rei asks, head cocked like a bird to rest on top of Lina’s head.

“Oh give him a break, the poor man hasn’t even had any lunch yet. Let us grab food before you continue the 20 questions, yeah?” Rei looks a little sheepish at your interruption and the reminder that the table in front of you and Jason is conspicuously bare.

“I packed too much for lunch today, first day jitters. We can split.” Jason interrupts.

“I— are you sure? It’s supposed to be yours.” You’ve known Jason less than three hours, exchanged maybe five sentences. It’s not the grandest gesture in the world, but it’s so nonchalantly thoughtful and offered freely. It sends warmth through you as he pulls out Tupperware, brushes your fingers as he hands over a fork.

“Don’t worry about it. And if you hate it, just pretend you don’t.” There’s absolutely no worry about that because it smells amazing. It’s some kind of pasta smothered in a creamy rosé sauce, chorizo and vegetables adding spice and colour. It’s the best thing you’ve eaten all month and he’s offering you half.

“You didn’t say that you were training to be a chef too.” You mumble around your second forkful. Skipping breakfast to catch the bus this morning had finally caught up with you and you’re starving. Turning as far in your seat as you can, you hunch over, left arm resting on the table to defend your excellent lunch from any thieves whose names did not start with J. Jason raises an eyebrow at your positively feral behaviour, satisfaction at your reaction filling his chest.

“That terrible, huh?”

“If you don’t give me the recipe eventually I might actually cry.” That startles a laugh out of him.

“Wouldn’t want that.”

“Why don’t you give him your number, and Jason can text it to you?” Danika interjects.

“Oh yes! Add him to the group chat too,” agrees Lina. Feeling rather cornered, you fish your phone out of your pocket and pass it to Jason for him to add his number one-handed. As he types, you give Danika a look that screams what are you doing. She shrugs, then bites into the foil-lined wrap she’d pulled out of her bag. Rei says something, trying to draw Will into the conversation, but is met with the usual non-committal hum. Giving up with a sigh, he starts talking to Jason, Lina and Danika chiming in every few questions or so. It’s an easy dynamic, far easier than you thought it would be when you first laid eyes on him that morning. Focused on your food, you don’t take notice of most of the conversation going on over your head. Your phone alarm starts to chime and vibrate. Fumbling with the fork and your phone, you manage to switch it off quickly as Jason looks at you inquiringly.

“Sorry, I’ve got another class across campus in Meade Hall starting in 15 minutes. I’ll have to run in five.”

“Is it ‘From Wollstonecraft to Frankenstein’ with Baird?” He asks between bites. “I’m taking that too.”

“Funny story, that. But we’ve really got to go soon if we’re going to make it on time.” He quickly downs the last bite, the two of you gathering your things in a rush to go.

“It was nice meeting you all. Thanks for the invitation Danika.” He throws the farewell over his shoulder, then turns to keep up with you as you speed walk your way out of the building. His longer legs eat up the distance you’d accidentally managed to put between the two of you. It’s completely unfair because while you have to keep up your awkward jog-walk, he settles into a loping walk that’s stupidly attractive, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket and bag slung over one broad shoulder.

Quickly, the two of you find your way to class. This time, instead of sitting alone, Jason’s right beside you sharing a table for two. His pen scratches over the pages of his notebook, handwriting spiky but neat. He takes care not to bump you with his elbow, aware of the space his body takes up. Class flies by quickly, Professor Baird an engaging speaker despite the long time block. It’s dark by the time the two of you leave the classroom, and it’ll get darker still as the days get shorter. You stretch your arms above your head, lean side to side in an attempt to work out the stiffness of your lower back.

“So what now?” Says Jason’s voice from just behind you. You turn to face him, aware of just how far you have to tilt your head back to look him in the eye.

“For me? Catching the bus home and throwing something together for dinner. What about you?”

“Something similar. You’ll be okay to get home though? Crime Alley after dark s’not the best place to be alone.”

“Yes, mom. I’ll be fine. The bus stop’s only a block from my building.” This is a conversation you’ve had with all of your friends, family, and even casual acquaintances and hearing it again has you rolling your eyes. But it was meant in kindness so you don’t take offence at the implication that you can’t look out for yourself. “But I wouldn’t mind it if we walked to the bus stop together.” Jason’s grin is so bright even in the darkening evening, lit by the campus street lamps.

The walk to the bus stop isn’t far from Meade Hall, but the two of you manage to stretch out the minutes. Feet get placed one in front of the other slowly, heels dragging behind. The night’s a wonderful cool Fall evening, not many people bothering to stay late on campus during the first week back. It’s only the two of you on the path cutting across the quad.

“What about you? Are you back in the Alley too?” you ask.

“Most of the time. Even if you leave, it doesn’t really leave you.” He responds.

“Jason Todd, are you secretly a romantic?” You tease.

“Incurably. Wouldn’t be able to survive Brit Lit otherwise.”

His grin is cheeky as he waves you off on to the bus. There’s something still lonely about him, face drained of colour by the bus stop streetlamp, a lone figure watercolour blending into the shadows at the edges. The bus pulls out with a rough jerk momentarily pulling your attention away. By the time you look back through the window he’s walking away, hands in his pocket and shoulders hunched over with that same unfairly attractive walk.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: Andrew.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s midnight. The blue digits above the console burn into your irises. You yawn as the headlights flash against a garage door and Andy steers up the driveway. Is this it? His home? 

You sniff and run your hands over your face. Andy shifts into park and kills the engine. He rubs his nose and glances over at you. “You awake, sweetheart?” 

“Mhmm,” you grumble. Regrettably. So much as you would have liked to sleep the whole way there, your mind wouldn’t stop. 

“Right, well, welcome home,” he says, “I’m sorry it took so long.” 

Should you tell him it’s okay? It’s not. You don’t want to be here but worse, you don’t want to go back to where you came from. Your grandmother doesn’t care at all. She didn’t bat an eye at this middle-aged man or that you just left. And you’re stupid. It’s this very man who crushed what was left of your naivete so no, you won’t believe that he cares either. 

Hell, maybe you don’t care. 

“I know it’s late but you could hop in the tub. It’ll help you sleep,” he suggests as he unbuckles his seat belt. “Get all fresh, settle in.” 

He sounds hopeful, almost excited. You’re happy you can’t see him through the dark. Or that he can’t see you. You know he’s smiling but if he could see the look on your face... 

“I’m tired, I just want to lay down.” It’s as much as you can say without lying. 

“Of course, honey,” he reaches over to squeeze your knee. You nearly slap him and scream. You hold back, instead putting your hand over his.  

You slowly pull away and undo your own seat belt. You open the door and he lets go of you reluctantly. You get out and he does the same. He meets you around the hood and you slow as his shadow lurks in the night. His fingertips trail down your arm and he takes your hand in his. 

“We’ll worry about the bags in the morning,” his keys jingle beneath his voice. “You can wear one of my shirts for tonight.” 

You don’t argue. You don’t try to get free of his grip. You just follow him. This is what it’s going to be like. You’ll do what he says and just hope he can’t feel how much you hate it. 

He unlocks the front door and drags you inside. He flips on the lights and you wince in the bright glare. He lets you and you kick your shoes off, leaving them on their sides. You shuffle forward and wander to the archway to your right. 

You take a step and he catches your arm, “hey.” 

“I’ll sleep here...” you point to the couch. 

“What? Bed’s upstairs, sweetie,” he tugs you back, “come on, let’s get settled.” 

You don’t resist. You let him take you upstairs and down a hallway. He opens another door and turns on another light. The bed is draped in navy and ivory. You slip free and trudge across the hazy room. You fall face first onto the mattress. You’re still at last. No more driving. 

“Hey, why don’t you get changed?” He asks as he opens a drawer. 

You don’t react. You turn your back to him and lift yourself to free the blankets from beneath you. You push your legs under it and slump back down. He huffs and his shadow appears on the wall as he closes in. 

“Come on, I got a shirt--” 

“Too tired,” you grumble and pull the blanket to your chin. 

“I know, sweetie, but you’ll feel better. I can still run you a bath.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut and pull the blanket higher. He clicks his tongue and lingers behind you. You shrink down until you think you might just be able to disappear. The floor groans beneath his weight and he finally backs up. You peek out from beneath your lashes. No, you’re still there. Stuck. 

He moves around as you hide in yourself. You sink down into fatigue. Your mind is a storm of anxiety but even that cannot keep you awake. More than anything, you need sleep. You’re tired to the bone. More tired than you’ve ever been in your life. You could sleep forever. You wish you could. That would fix everything. 

Andy fades into you conscious. Your mind turns to static, like a television. There’s only a monochrome crackle between your ears. The world is gone and for an instant, you are not afraid or hurt or angry. Not long enough. 

The hours pass in a blink. When you wake, the digital clock reads just before seven. You close your eyes again. You don’t want to be here. You want to be anywhere else. Yet, you have no escape, only this. Only sleep. Only the void away from feeling and thought.  

The next time you wake, it’s after nine. The other half of the bed is empty. You still don’t move. You sleep even as your head begins to thump. Another hour, and another, and another. Each time you open your eyes, time slips by. Not quick enough. 

“It’s noon,” Andy’s voice cuts through the fog. “I think it’s time to get up, sweetie.” 

His weight dips the bed in front of you and he rubs your shoulder, “come on, you want a coffee? A hot bath? I’ll make you pancakes.” 

“No,” you say and pull the blanket over your head. 

He huffs, “sweetie.” 

“No,” you repeat. 

“What’s going on? You have to at least get up and change. You’ve been in those clothes for two days.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Sweetie, come on, I know it’s a big change. I thought... I thought we were past this. We’re going to work together,” he coaxes as he yanks on the blanket. He frees it from your grasp and uncovers your face. You squint at him, temples pounding. 

“That’s what you said,” you utter. 

He closes his eyes and puts his chin down. He takes a deep breath and pokes his tongue into his cheek. He lifts his head and his cheeks pinch with tension. 

“I’m being patient. I have been. And generous. I saw the way you were living--” 

“I didn’t ask you to fix me,” you say. “You can’t.” 

“That’s... you’re not broken, sweetie. I’m not trying to fix anything. You’re young and lost and I know it’s a lot but I’m trying to help you build a life--” 

“I’m young and stupid,” you glare at the wall, shuddering under his touch. “Because I believed you. I fell for your fucking lies--” 

“Sweetie, don’t--” 

“And you’re just some old man. I might be too young to know better but what’s your excuse?” You snarl. 

He’s silent. He retracts his hand and turns to sit straight. He drops his shoulders and another exhale slowly wafts from him. 

“My wife died. My son too.” He says, “I was alone and I found you. So don’t sit here and mope like you’re the one who knows pain. We’ve both lost people, I’m trying here, sweetie.” 

You want to laugh. You want to scream. You want to smack him. No, you want to sleep. You turn and roll onto your other side. 

“I’m tired,” you say. 

He grabs your elbow and you expect him to wrench you back. He doesn’t. Instead, he rubs your arm. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, I get it. I’ll be here.” He leans over and presses a kiss to your head. “Waiting for you.” 

He nuzzles your hair and draws away. You lay locked in place until he unlatches from you. The bed moves with his weight as he stands. 

“There’s a whole life waiting here with me.” 

You don’t move, you don’t speak, you don’t breathe until he’s gone. Then it all falls apart. You devolve into hiccuping sobs. You cocoon yourself in the blanket and weep. Its more than just him, more than just the weeks of doubt and self-hatred, it’s a whole lifetime of helplessness.  

The people you want to want you will never and the one person you could never see again won’t leave you alone. 

🎮

A soft weight lands by your feet. A sigh precedes Andy’s appearance as he strides up the side of the bed. He crosses his arms and glares down at you as your eyelids flutter. 

“You need to get dressed.” 

You wince and rub your forehead, “I’m tired.” 

“You’ve been in bed for two days. That’s long enough. Get up.” He demands. 

He's not coaxing anymore. There’s not an ounce of gentleness left in his voice. Or his stance. As you peek up at him, he seems bigger than ever. In that moment, you realise how truly big he is. He might be older but it doesn’t make him weaker than you. 

“Please,” you whine. 

“Look, I don’t want to treat you like a child, but that’s what you’re acting like,” he snips. “So come on. Sit up. I got a bath drawn for you. You’ll get washed up and feel a lot better.” 

“Andy,” you cover your face. 

He moves quickly. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away. “No, up.” 

“Hey--” you try to free yourself but he’s too strong. 

You kick and fight, trying to resist him, but he twists your arm and yanks you out of the bed. He holds your hand well above your head. He grips you tight enough that your bones creak. 

“Ow, you’re hurting me--” 

“I’m helping you, sweetie,” he lets you go at last. “So come on. I’ve been working hard to get everything read for you. You’re not going to rot away in bed.” 

You rub your wrist as you hug it to your chest. You’re a mess. You don’t need a mirror to tell you that much. Your hair feels grimy, your skin too, and your clothes stink of your sweat. You’re embarrassed at the realisation. 

“I’m sorry,” you shrink down. 

“I’m not mad. I’m worried,” he insists as he wraps his arm around your back and guides you forward. You don’t get how he isn’t repulsed by you. Deep inside, you hoped he would be. 

You’re pathetic. You’re gross. You're dumb. But he’s still there. He’s persistent.  

Are you ungrateful? 

It’s a nice house. Nicer than your grandmother’s. What is he even asking you for? To change your clothes and wash up? Basic, human acts. You are disgusting. How can he stand you? How can he want you? 

You feel the heat behind your eyes and a tingle in your nose. You need to be alone. You don’t want him to see you crack but you can’t keep it in much longer. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, Andy, I’ll... I’ll clean up,” you try to pull away but he doesn’t let you. 

He takes you into the bathroom. A nice sparkling bathroom with pristine tiles and clawfoot tub and fluffy mat and shining mirrors. It’s more than you could ever hope for or even dream of. 

He lets you go and you draw away at last. You hug yourself as you approach the tub, water lapping up the walls as it fills. He looms behind you. 

“There’s a towel for you,” he says. 

“Sorry,” you apologise again. “Can I just be alone?” 

“Sure, but I’ll check on you. If you need anything, just yell.” 

“Fine, sure, yeah,” you rub your neck and refuse to look at him.  

You’re embarrassed. You always hated the feeling that you were a loser. That you’re the dirty kid. You always smelled like your grandmother’s house and your clothes were always slightly wrinkly and you never had nice hair or new shows. You were always just the kid your parents left behind and your grandma wanted to forget. 

The door shuts and you turn to fall onto the closed toilet seat. You bend and cradle your head, bawling as you smother all noise in your hands. You hate yourself so much. You hate that you fell for his trick. You hate that you let it get this far. Even if it means Kara is safe, it doesn’t feel worth it anymore. 

You get up before the tub can overflow and shut it off. You undress and step into the steaming water. It’s too hot but you don’t care. You lower yourself in and close your eyes. Even if you feel unnerved by this strange house, the heat is soothing. 

In the moment of calm, you try to sort through it all. The grief, the fear, the anger, the doubt. You can’t let him take everything. You have to figure out what you can hold onto. What he will give you. He keeps saying he wants to give you everything, that he’ll take care of you. So, you’ll ask nicely, right? 

You sit up and grab the soap. You lather up a loofah without much attention to the act. He says you’re in this together. He’s making promises and you’re just asking that he follows through... 

You never asked anyone for anything. You never could. You were never afforded the luxury of expectation. This feels weird. It’s like you’re selling yourself for simple things and yet, he’s offering you more than you ever had before. 

Compared to what you know, the unknown might not be so bad. 

[lilacmingi]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND AU INTRO

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: BTS x fem reader

Word count: 2,170

Note: This is a series from Wattpad that I wrote in 2018. All parts have been rewritten/updated. All of the imagines in this series are connected, so you have to read them all. There’s 9 parts + 7 separate endings you get to choose from. This was one of my most popular and memorable series on Wattpad, so I’m bringing it to Tumblr!

You admired the sea of red and white roses covering the lush bushes that lined the pathway as you walked through the vast garden. The faint yet fresh aroma of the delicate flowers loomed in the air, their scent pleasing to the senses.

When life got a little too overwhelming or stressful, you liked to come out to the rose garden and walk around to clear your head. The expanse of blossoms did wonders to take your mind off life or whatever was weighing on you. What brought you outside that day was the desire to leisure and enjoy the overcast sky and comfortably refreshing weather.

As you strolled along, you would pick off any dead leaves or petals you saw on the roses, wanting to keep your garden looking pristine.

Your moment of peace and quiet was interrupted by the harsh snap of a twig, your body instinctually freezing at the sudden noise. As far as you were aware, you were the only person out there... at least you thought you were.

Leaves rustled nearby, sounding as if someone was running around in the large bushes. As cowardly as you were, you chose to be brave and follow the sound, hoping to find the source of the disruptive and alarming noises.

Creeping precariously down the grassy path, you did your best to keep your footsteps silent, taking each step with the utmost caution while trying not to startle whatever or whoever was lurking in the bushes. As you made your way through the labyrinth of rose bushes, you spotted a man just as he emerged from the tall greenery.

He was dressed nicely, almost like a butler, donning a tailcoat, dark trousers, and loafers. This was a peculiar sight, not just because this stranger was in your backyard, but because no one dressed that way in your town.

His attire wasn't the only thing that stood out. Sitting on top of his head was a pair of white bunny ears.

He was a good distance away so perhaps your eyes were playing tricks on you, but something in your gut told you otherwise. Taking a few steps closer, you squinted your eyes to get a look at the strange man.

With a better vantage point, you were quick to come to the conclusion that the ears were indeed real. Your eyes moved down his backside, gaze landing on a fluffy bunny tail peeking out from the slit in his tailcoat. An involuntary gasp escaped you, causing you to cover your mouth with your hand.

The man's bunny ears twitched a little in response and he looked around, not turning towards you. Once he felt that the coast was clear, he pulled out a silver pocket watch attached to a chain. His eyes widened the second he glanced at the face of the clock.

"I'm late!" He gasped quietly to himself and took off, jogging frantically down the pathway.

You made haste and took off after him, your curiosity piqued by the strange hybrid.

He zipped through the garden of roses and out into the empty yard.

"Hey! Stop!" You shouted.

The man glanced back at you over his shoulder and let out a small, startled scream before picking up the pace. Clearly, he didn't know he was being chased.

A huff of exhaustion left you, winded from the brief pursuit. This guy was fast and you weren't sure you'd be able to catch up. However, you couldn't give up.

You pushed your legs as fast as they would go, ignoring the faint burning that became present in them.

Your efforts paid off because you managed to get just a mere foot away. He was within arms reach.

"Please stop." You begged. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

He took another glance back, seeing how close you were. In response, he started running faster to get away, but you wouldn't let him. You reached out and managed to grab onto his tailcoat.

The man released a yelp as he fell to the ground, bringing you with him. He pushed himself onto his side and rolled onto his back with a grunt. Now that you were in close proximity, you could get a good look at his face. You watched as he sat upright in a hasty manner, straightening his jacket and dusting the grass off himself. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. This man was stunning. He pushed his lengthy, black hair away from his face, showing off more of his breathtaking features.

"Who are you? What do you want?" He questioned frantically, his large, brown eyes wide with fear.

Judging by his body language, it seemed he was ready to jump to his feet and flee at any moment.

"I'd like to know the same thing about you."

His shifty gaze scanned you up and down before he responded.

"You first."

"I'm Y/n. Now, why are you hiding in my rose garden?"

"Y/n?" He whispered under his breath, but you heard it. "So it is you."

Your brows knit together. "What? You didn't answer my question. Why are you hiding in my rose garden?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Can you at least tell me who you are?"

"I'm..." He trailed off and pulled his watch out of his coat pocket to look at it. "I'm late!"

In the blink of an eye, he jumped up off the ground and sprinted away.

"Hey! Come back here!"

Scrambling to your feet, you dashed after him, unwilling to let him slip between the cracks without answering your question.

Sitting at the bottom of a nearby hill was a rotting tree and the man was running directly towards it. Once he got over to the withered trunk, he leapt and disappeared into the ground.

What?

You came to a halt, stopping to rub your eyes. Surely you didn't just watch someone go into the earth. Without wasting any more time, you moved forward, approaching the evergreen.

When you arrived at the scraggly tree, you saw there was a sizable hole in the ground by the large roots of the decaying tree.

"When did this get here?" You asked no one.

Leaning over, you peered into the hollow cavity in the dirt. It was pitch black and appeared to be much deeper than a you thought.

"Hello? Bunny boy, are you down there?"

No answer.

"Hello? Is anybody down th—"

Your sentence was cut off when the loose ground beneath your hands broke away. With nothing to catch yourself on, you lost your balance and fell face first into the endless hole.

Your hands instinctively stretched out in front of you as you were free-falling towards uncertain death, unable to see anything in front of you. Just when you were prepared to make impact, nothing happened.

You were still falling.

Where did this tunnel lead and just exactly how deep was it? If that guy jumped down into the hole it couldn't be that bad. Could it?

Just when you thought you'd be falling for an eternity, a floor came into view. As you plummeted closer to the bottom, you were able to make out a dark red and black checkered pattern.

You wondered why there was a floor at the bottom of a rabbit hole, but that question was quickly shoved to the back of your mind as you realized you were going to hit this floor.

Your eyes widened as you came to this realization and squeezed your eyes shut, curling into a ball and braced for impact.

A few seconds later you were hit with the harsh pain of the hard tile floor colliding with your back, though you didn't hit nearly as hard as you presumed you would. Grunting, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, patting yourself down to make sure you were alright and didn't break any bones.

"I'm okay." You huffed out a laugh of relief.

You actually survived the fall.

Taking a moment to get a look at your surroundings, you found that you were in a strange circular room with doors all around. The only piece of furniture was a glass top table sitting in the middle of the floor. Getting to your feet, you approached the table to find an old-fashioned silver key sitting on top. Taking the key, you got to work trying to unlock one of the nearby doors, only to find that it didn't work. Moving on, you stuck the key into the next door, but it didn't budge.

This has to go to one of these doors. You thought.

You made your way around the room, trying door after door, but the key didn't work in any of them. Not knowing what to do or how to get out, you began to panic. Your heartbeat sped up and your breathing started to get erratic. That's when you took notice of a curtain hanging from the wall. You went to draw back the velvet curtain, revealing a tiny door that had to be no more than a foot tall. Crouching down on the patterned marble flooring, you took the key and slid it into the lock. It clicked softly in response and you pulled it open.

Past the threshold was a set of old steps made of weathered stone that led down to a pathway. Surrounding the path was an array of massive mushrooms and strange curled plants that looked unnatural and otherworldly.

Seeing that you wouldn't be able to fit through the narrow doorway, you pulled back, watching the entrance slowly close.

"Great." You huffed.

How were you supposed to get through there? There was absolutely no way you'd be able to fit. Come to think of it, neither could that bunny guy, so how did he get through?

Getting to your feet, you began pacing around in thought, your restless footsteps coming to a halt when you noticed a small glass bottle sitting on the table. Attached to the neck of the bottle was a tag that read: drink me.

You tentatively plucked the bottle from the tabletop and popped the cork. The first thing you did was sniff the mysterious liquid inside, your face twisting in disgust. It smelled awful.

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you swirled the liquid around while weighing your options, which were practically none. It was either you drink what was in the bottle or you stay stuck in the room with no way out.

Sucking in a deep breath, you lifted the bottle to your lips and took a drink. It burned your throat like strong alcohol. You coughed at the intense and unpleasant taste.

A strange feeling became present in the pit of your stomach and you noticed you were getting farther away from the table. By the time the odd sensation passed, you realized you were on the floor, looking up through the glass top of the table. Not only that, but you left the key to the door up there.

You shrieked, stumbling back slightly.

That drink shrank you down to the size of a pencil. How was that possible? And how were you supposed to get back to normal?

You frantically searched your surroundings, finding a small glass box with a cake sitting inside. If you were at your normal size, it would fit in the palm of your hand. The cake was square with icing on the top that read: eat me.

Well, you already shrank, so what's the worst that could happen?

Opening up the box, you took a bite out of the cake, then another. Right away, that odd feeling tickled your stomach and you began to grow taller. Just when you thought you'd stop at your normal height, you kept going, getting farther away from the floor where you stood.

"Oh no, oh no." You chanted fretfully, unable the stop the stretch of your body.

The top of your head hit the ceiling, causing you to lean slightly so as not to break it. Then, the growing stopped.

Two things were certain now: the drink would make you shrink, the cake would make you grow. You reached down and knocked the key onto the floor before grabbing the glass bottle between your thumb and index finger, drinking the remaining liquid inside.

The burning was just as bad as the first time, causing you to break into a coughing fit while shrinking back down to the size you were at just moments ago. Retrieving the key off the floor, you made your way over to the tiny entrance only to stop in your tracks and turn back around to grab a chunk of cake from the glass box, bringing it with you just in case.

Upon pushing the key into the keyhole, the tiny door swung open, revealing the outdoor scene you only got a glimpse at. Taking in a deep breath, you stepped past the threshold and entered the strange world of wonder.

➯ Part 1: Jungkook

Masterlist ᝰ

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm

[juletheghoul]

A/N; I’ve decided to try and post a bit more consistently. The plan, for now, is to post twice a week—a series chapter update, as well as one of the standalone pieces I have in the works. My confidence lately has been the pits, but I’m not going to let it ruin my life, or my desire to write. This is fun, and I still want to share the things that I create. If you’re still here and reading, thank you, hope you enjoy 💜 (p.s., I know the picture I used isn't Max, but that's how I see this version of him. A little younger, a little leaner-hungrier) (p.p.s, right now there is no plan for a sequel, but I never say never. Asks are always open, and so are the dms)

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.2K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) mentions of loneliness, and alcoholism, language, He's a vampire (went with classic vampire lore for this one, needs a coffin, no sunlight), piv sex (wrap it up!), vaginal fingering, violence, talk of death, blood and some non-graphic gore, period piece

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

It starts with a prickle to the back of your neck, the hairs there standing on end, a shiver running along your spine. 

The main thoroughfare is busy as you make your way home, the lamplights illuminating the steps of your usual path. It's different tonight though, despite knowing the area like the back of your hand and recognizing more than a few faces as they pass, there is a tinge of something threaded through it all. 

You find yourself scanning every shadowy corner, peering through the windows on the businesses you pass, hoping to spot whatever it is that has your blood pounding loudly in your ears. 

Do I want to know? 

You catch yourself from stumbling at the thought, your imagination conjuring images of a dark, evil figure lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike. You shake it off, scolding yourself for letting the fear get the better of you. 

Your home is visible now, just at the top of the hill and the relief is mounting, counting down the steps until you can tuck yourself safely inside, and lock the world out. 

“Excuse me, Miss.” His voice is low and pleasant, but it sends you a good few inches into the air from the fright. “My deepest apologies, I did not mean to scare you.” Your heart is pounding, your hand pressed up against your chest in some unconscious attempt to steady it. You let out a slow breath before answering, laughing shakily as you gather your thoughts. 

“Oh my, forgive me-” You let out another loud sigh, “You gave me such a fright.” You smile up at him out of habit, taking in his handsome face and worried expression. 

“No no, please–accept my sincerest apology.” He bows slightly, his head low in deference and you wave it away. “I saw you from across the street, and I thought, I simply must introduce myself.” He smiles now, and it’s a little jarring, his teeth are perfectly straight and bright white. “I’m Max.” He holds his hand out and you take it without thought, watch him almost in a trance as he brings it up to press it to his lips. The kiss is cool, and it brings curiously vulgar thoughts to the forefront of your mind. He tilts his head, expectant. 

“Oh! Sorry yes, It’s nice to meet you Max-” You cannot help but watch his mouth as you introduce yourself. “I’ve not seen you in town before.” You leave it there and his smile widens, his eyes scanning all around taking in your surroundings. You don’t fail to notice the expensive cut of his suit, the fabric rich, decadent.

“I’m new in town you see, just arrived this morning.” He towers over you, broad of shoulder, slim through the hip. “I see you are unaccompanied, which shocks me.” He offers his arm and again, and you move to take it without much thought. “May I walk you home?” 

“Yes, of course.” You agree, and begin to lead the way, ignoring every warning young women seem to learn practically at the breast, calmly walking with him up the street towards your home. “Where did you come from?” Your attention turns to the feel of his arm in yours, solid and strong underneath his layers. 

“Oh, I come from all over, I'm somewhat of a roamer.” His smile is roguish and you get the impression he might be remembering another young lady on another street, in an altogether different part of the world. “How long has this been your home?” He guides you gently as you make your way up the hill. 

“I have lived here all my life.” 

“Do you like it here?” He doesn’t ask it unkindly, there’s a genuine curiosity there. 

“I like it fine enough, but I have always wanted to see other parts of the world. It's difficult though.” You sigh, he frowns in the corner of your eye. 

“How so?” 

“Well, it is difficult to travel unaccompanied–it also requires funds I currently do not possess.” You laugh a bit awkwardly, surprised with your own candor. 

“Oh-” He seemed taken aback for a moment and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, men usually don’t pay much attention to the struggles of women. “-yes of course. How ignorant of me.” He was frowning at his feet. 

“This is me.” You pulled him away from his thoughts, gesturing to your house. 

“This is lovely, you and your family must be very happy here.” He smiled warmly, guiding you up the steps to the large wrap around porch. 

“Yes well, we make do.” Your tight lipped smile wasn’t getting past him, his hand held yours for a moment, pulling your attention from your door to him.

“I don’t mean to overstep–are you well?” He held your hand in both of his now, a worried expression plastered on his handsome face. 

“Yes-I, I’m sorry, yes. I’m fine-” He watched you intently, studying and suddenly the words were spilling from your lips, unbidden. “-I’m just alone most of the time, my father works, or drinks, and my mother disappears to avoid the melancholy. My sister is wed and living her marital bliss across the city and I am sort of left to keep everything together.” The thoughts were always present, hiding in your throat, in the pit of your stomach, in the clenching of your jaw when the house was continuously empty. It was a welcome respite to be able to let go of them, for a moment at least. 

He hummed his acknowledgement, the worried frown in place. 

“That is unfortunate.” He was choosing his words carefully. “If you are partial, I would very much like to spend more time with you.” He kissed the back of your hand once more and a momentary madness took hold of you. 

“Would you like to come in?” His eyebrows raised and you hurried to clarify, “I could make you a cup of tea, maybe you could tell me about your travels?” He nodded graciously and a slow creeping smile overtook the frown as he walked up the stairs towards your now open door. His eyes flashed with something but it was gone just as quickly–no sign of danger as he crossed the threshold. 

“You’re too kind, I would love to.” You closed the door behind him. 

He seemed bigger once inside, somehow broader than before. His eyes were bright within the dim foyer, the honey brown of them alert and lively and lovely. You led him towards the sitting room with a shy smile, the thrill of having a gentleman caller in your home without a chaperone sending your heart a flutter. 

Maybe I’m too trusting.

The thought crossed your mind, taking up space until his smile shooed it away once more. 

“How do you take your tea? Or would you maybe prefer something stronger? I think there’s some brandy hidden away for visitors.” Your hands felt numb, the nerves of being alone with him catching up to you. 

“What would you prefer?” He made himself comfortable on the settee, and you noticed his choice with interest. 

“Well, the brandy is rather nice.”

“Brandy it is. Can I help with anything?” He made to get up and you hurriedly put your hands up to stall him. 

“Nonsense, one moment.” You walked away quickly, ignoring the pounding of your heart and soon you were standing in front of him once more, brandy glasses in hand. He took one from you graciously and once you were seated beside him, you took a generous gulp, wincing slightly at the burning in your throat. He swirled the drink in hand, bringing it to his nose, taking in the aroma and for a moment you felt like your father, just knocking it without savoring. 

“It smells wonderful-” He brought the glass to his lips and you did your best to pace yourself. 

“So, tell me about yourself.” You put the glass down and waited, enjoying the feeling of warmth spreading throughout your limbs already. 

“Oh no, I’d rather hear about you.” He placed his glass next to yours, leaning back with open arms facing you. “I’m very curious as to how no one has snatched you up just yet.” He said it with a friendly smile. “You must be of age to marry?” 

“Yes, I am no more wise than you are on the subject.” You reached for the glass once more, needing something in which to focus the nervous energy in your hands, which led you to take another obscene gulp. Half your glass already gone, what would he think of you?

“Have you had many would-be callers? I would have thought your father would be fighting them off with a bat.” He picked up his glass, swirling it as he spoke. 

“Not really, there was a young man who came calling, but he was indifferent as to which sister would take him, so he left empty-handed.” Your nerves calmed with the third gulp, so did the burning and now there was a pleasant, full body buzz flowing through your veins. 

“Well. The men here must be blind.” His eyes flashed again, something vulgar and exciting all at the same time. He put his glass back down, moving so he was sitting a little closer. “Your father would have trouble keeping me away.” He took the now empty glass from your hand and set it next to his rather full one. 

“Why’s that?” You watched him with baited breath. 

“Well, because I would be ruthless in my pursuit.” He moved closer still. “Would woo you tirelessly.” His hand came up, his thumb resting softly on the plush of your bottom lip. You sucked in a breath, acutely aware of the hot spike of arousal in your belly. 

“And–and if I were to deny you?” your voice was curiously breathless, such was the effect he had on you.

“Would you?” He moved closer, his eyes fixed on where his thumb rested on your lip, “Would you deny me?” He was so close, the tip of his aquiline nose nuzzling softly against your own. His lips so close it would only take a nudge to kiss him.

“No-” You knew you wouldn’t, this enigmatic man who’d appeared out of thin air, appeared out of some long forgotten dream, or perhaps a prayer. “I would not.” 

“May I kiss you?” He nudged your nose with his once more, the clean scent of him engulfing your senses. 

“Please-” You didn’t get the chance to finish the word before his lips pressed against yours with an ardor that burned through your whole body. His fingers curled around the nape of your neck, caressing the sensitive skin there while his tongue sought entrance to dance with yours. He pulled a whimper from somewhere in your throat before he pulled away, kissing your cheek, and then again, just below your ear.

You’d been kissed before, but never like this. 

He smiled, his gaze roving over your face greedily, no doubt taking in the lust blown expression shining back at him. 

You gulped. 

“I would decidedly not deny you Sir.” You let out a shaky laugh, feeling as the excitement and arousal flowed through you. Dampening your undergarments, hardening your nipples. 

“I thought not.” His thumb came up to brush against your lip once more, his eyes focused on your face so intently, it felt as though everything else had disappeared. 

“Take me to bed.” The words spilled out of your mouth unbidden, shocking even you and your stomach sank well into the floor when his eyebrows raised. “I-I’m sorry to be so vulgar-”

“Do not apologize to me, there is no sin in desire.” He stood, holding his hand out for you to stand before him. “There is no vulgarity in pleasure between two people, so long as both are willing.” He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, moving to your mouth once more to take the remaining coherent thoughts right out of your head. 

-

Up until today, your life had been, for the most part, predictable. There had been a basic formula to how your hours were spent, where you’d go, what you’d see, even who’d you speak to. You’d thought about it that very morning, the errands you’d have to run-what you’d wear. Whether you’d see your father intoxicated or not. 

Seeing a beautiful, naked man was not on the list of possibilities. For that gorgeous, naked man to have you practically mewling underneath him would never have crossed your mind, at least not that early in the day. 

The bed creaked with every thrust of his hips between your legs, his cock hard and heavy inside the wet clutch of your cunt. 

“Does that feel good?” He huffed out a laugh, his white teeth flashing as he moved a little harder. It was hard to articulate exactly how good it felt and he took your quiet moans as a challenge. “More? Is that what you want my darling?” his elbows came up to rest beside your ears, bracketing your head before he snapped his hips faster, smiling at the way your mouth opened in a silent scream. “There it is, that’s what you like huh?” His voice should have been breathless with the amount of exertion he was exhibiting–but every thrust knocked any coherent thought right out of your head. He shifted to one side, reaching down to slide his fingers around the pearl of your pleasure, thrusting you headlong into your climax. He slowed down, grinding slowly while you crested, no doubt making a mess of the sheets underneath you. 

“I could stay here for days.” He punctuated his words with a delicious swirl of his hips, burying his face into the crook of your neck while you caught your breath, your hands finding their way into his hair. 

“If it’s to be like this every single time–I’m inclined to let you.” You pulled his face up to kiss, needing to taste his mouth again. 

“Oh it definitely would.” He bit his lip, watching you as he spoke. 

“You’d ruin me for all others.” You ran your nails down the muscles of his back, feeling how they corded and bunched with each movement, the coolness of him perfectly complementing your almost feverish warmth. 

“I plan on it, plan on spoiling you rotten.” He kissed you quickly before pulling away and for a moment you thought he might spill his seed on your belly, but he made to move you.

“I would ask you–” Your tone made him pause, a frown on his face. “Beg of you, not to spill inside, I don’t wish to have any children.” It might have ruined the mood of the night, but a child would have ruined your entire life. His features relaxed, a soft smile blooming on his handsome face. 

“I cannot make children, I am sterile.” He pulled you up from your place, both of you kneeling on your bed, his tone sincere. “And even if I could, do you think I would just abandon you?” His hands caressed your back, moving down to hold onto your backside. It was so lovely to have intimacy like this, the loneliness of your days highlighted now in the comfort of his touch. 

“Well, to be quite honest I’m not sure what you’d do. I’ve only just met you–” You sighed, his mouth kissing a trail from your shoulder up to the sensitive skin of your neck, “-you should know, I don’t usually do this. I’m not in the habit of taking men into my bed so quickly.” Your fingers curled in the short locks of his hair. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, pretty.” His lips were still pleasantly cool, all of him was. “I just want to make you feel good.” His hands came up to cradle your jaw before he licked into your mouth, giving you the kind of kiss you’ve only dreamt about in the dark quiet hours. “Now turn around, I want to take you from behind.” he bit your lip, a tiny little nip that had you dripping and you turned to obey. 

His big palm pressed against your spine, pushing your top half down into the mattress before he grabbed your hips, pulling you to him a little rougher than you expected. It made you gasp and within a moment he sheathed himself in your tight heat. A hard thrust that knocked the air out of your lungs. 

“Your wet little cunt is dripping around me-” He sounded as wrecked as you felt, his words fueling the fire of your arousal, “-come up here.” He pulled you up, his arm wrapped around your middle to press you up against the solid wall of his chest, his chin instantly settling on your shoulder, lips pressed against your ear as he set a brutal pace. He sang the song of his pleasure directly into your ear, it flowed all around you, combining with the wet obscene sounds of your joining to push you further and further into a bigger, more intense climax. 

One of his hands moved down, slipping between the lips of your sex to pull you apart, the other sliding up to palm your breast. With a few perfect circles you screamed, digging your fingers into his arm as you clenched around him.

There was a sting. 

A sudden sharp pain at your neck that pulled you out of the haze of pleasure for a moment before it was replaced with something otherworldly. A direct current flowing through your fingers and toes, through your nipples, through the gates of heaven between your legs. 

It was enough to make you lightheaded. 

You blinked, finding yourself laying back on your bed with Max standing near the door, fixing his overcoat. 

How did you get dressed so fast? Why am I so exhausted?

You tried to call out to him, surprised to find your limbs heavy, your eyes fluttering closed. 

“Sleep now, my love.” You heard him speak, his voice sounding so far away. “Sleep, I will see you soon.” A cool, feather light kiss was pressed to your brow before the world went dark. 

-

Whether it was the sunlight streaming in through the lace curtains, or the nightmare, or possibly a combination of both that pulled you out from the depths of sleep, you’d never truly know.  A vision of something hunting, something tearing at flesh, a bone crushing bite flitting through your mind in those first few seconds upon waking making you shudder and turn towards the darker side of the room, avoiding the glaring light in your eyes.

What a horrible dream—wait, what happened again?

It had just been there but now it felt like mist, dissipating far too quickly for you to grab a hold of. 

It was gone.

A knock at your door had any remaining musings about it evaporating into nothing. 

“Yes? Come in-“ You croaked out the words before clearing your throat. 

Your mother waltzed in, already dressed for the day making you frown. She was fussing at her skirts, unbothered—or uncaring that you were still in bed, instead she spoke about a trip she and your father were taking, how the house would be your responsibility for the next few days and that she would see you when she got back. She didn’t wait to hear your thoughts or concerns, or to even ask if you were feeling well, she was gone as quickly as she’d appeared. Leaving you still in bed, studying the time on your pocket watch with confusion. 

Something seemed off, a long stretch highlighted the pleasant soreness between your thighs and then his face popped into the forefront of your thoughts. How could you have forgotten? 

The events of the night before were crystal clear, to a point. You’d been walking home, he’d introduced himself and things had gone well. You’d invited him back to your home—to your bed. Everything was replaying as though you were reliving the night itself, up until he’d pulled that second climax out of you, after that, things were blurred. 

No.

Not just blurred, not just hazy. That would imply there were memories to fog up, this was something else, something aggravating. 

You let out a frustrated groan, tossing in your bed to bury your face into your pillows. 

I wonder where he is now, wonder if I’ll ever see him again.

The jaded, realistic part of your brain said don’t count on it, and after all, why would he care to come back? You’d opened up your doors and your legs, gave him everything you had to offer and he’d left without so much as a fare thee well. At least, not one that you could remember.

Face the facts, you gave it up, and now he’s gone.

-

You were out of breath and not for the first time since waking that morning. Your heart raced as you stopped just outside the general store, needing a moment before starting your usual trek up the hill. The night was blessedly cool, a gentle breeze ruffling the sleeves and collar of your dress and it was only while you were distracted that he found you once more.

“Hello my sweet, I hoped to find you out and about, and so I have.” He smiled his bright white smile, reaching out to bring your hand to his mouth. 

“Max-“ you frowned at him, unable to hide the shock of actually seeing him again. “I—hello, I’m sorry I-“ you floundered, unsure what to say. He seemed taken aback by your response.

“My apologies, did you not wish to see me again?”

“No! It’s not that, no I’m very glad I just—well to be perfectly blunt I didn’t actually think I would.” You blurted the words out, throwing caution to the wind. He brought that out in you it seemed.

“Oh-“ his eyebrows raised into his hairline. “I see. You thought I’d seduced you and then left you to pursue other conquests.” His tone was light, but there was a hurt in it and it made you feel guilty.

“Forgive me, I misjudged you. I am very happy to see you again.” You gave him your biggest smile and he returned it, forgiven.

“No need.” He kissed your hand once more, pulling you to hold onto his arm. “May I accompany you home?” He gestured towards the hill.

“Yes, that would be very helpful, I am feeling a bit lightheaded today I’m afraid.” You laughed, lighthearted but he didn’t join.

“Are you well?” He matched your pace, pulling you slowly towards the house.

“Oh yes, nothing to worry about. Must have been that brandy yesterday. Doesn’t tend to agree with me.” You patted his arm and he dropped the subject.

“Aside from the brandy, how has your day been?” He smiled warmly, his stride slowing down to match yours.

“Well enough.” You sighed, “My mother and father have gone away for a few days, so I have been alone.” You tried to keep your voice neutral but his expression told you he wasn’t buying it. “It is the way things are.”

“Do they not worry about you?” His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion. “Do they not care?”

“I’d rather not know the answer to those questions.” You left the rest unsaid, he didn’t press the issue. “Let’s speak of happier things. How have you been settling in? Are you close by?”

“Yes, just down the lane, a street over. My house is nicely settled but my days are too busy to go out and meet my neighbours. Thankfully I’ve met you though.”

“It isn’t a very big place, there are people no doubt dying to meet you.” You thought about the debutants, the rich single ones who would have taken one look at Max, and gobbled him up. 

“Anyone in particular I should avoid?” He said it conspiratorially, leaning into you and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“No one too villainous.” You patted his arm as you reached the little walkway outside your house. “Come in, sit with me a while.”

“Of course, I’d love to, I need to hear all the local gossip.” 

-

You’d really only meant to invite him in for conversation this time. To have him sit with you in the dim light of your sitting room, listening to him speak about any and everything but somehow- you’d found yourself underneath him once more. 

Your face was pressed against your pillows, your hands like talons, gripping onto your sheets while he straddled your thighs. His hands were holding the globes of your backside open while his cock speared into you again and again. 

He kept your legs closed making his sex feel so much bigger, made it feel like he was splitting you open in the best way. 

You panted into the fabric, dampening it with your breath as he fucked into you—moving your body a fraction with every thrust, the friction of it against your nipples made you ache with arousal. 

“You’re so wet for me my sweet, so tight around my cock.” He spread you open lewdly and you knew he was staring at the place you were joined, no doubt watching himself disappear into your body. “You’re going to milk me dry—reach down and touch yourself, I want you to come before I do.“ he sped up, groaning when you clenched around him. 

You swallowed thickly as you reached down to obey him, shocked at how much arousal he's pulled out of you, feeling the soaked-through patch of the sheet on the back of your hand. 

It only takes a moment, your fingers slipping through your folds with a well practiced swirl and your body tightens up, the coil winding tighter and tighter and you feel him press his chest to your back, his breath in your ear and when the pleasure finally bursts like a firework—a sting.

Euphoria—a wet gush somewhere below you and a pained moan from you, or him, maybe both of you, it’s hard to tell.

You blink.

Or, you try to blink. 

Your eyelids are so heavy, it’s hard to open them but you finally do. Light is streaming in through the window, that cannot be?

Your brain feels slow, like molasses on a cold day, your limbs are so heavy and it takes what feels like hours before you can lift your arm to check the time. 

It is well past noon, and it doesn’t make sense. 

There’s a note on the table where your watch is and you stare at it for a moment, trying with all your might to read the words;

It was lovely to see you again my darling, I had a wonderful time. If you’re partial I would love to call on you again. I hope you slept well, you looked so peaceful when I left. See you soon.  Max

You put the note down and focused on gathering your strength, ignoring the ache in your body, and the fear in your gut.

-

You moved at a glacial pace, both physically and mentally and you ignored the deep-rooted fear in your belly, that you’d caught the coughing sickness. 

Does it start like this? Will I feel weaker and weaker until I cannot move? When does the coughing start? 

You shuddered and shook your head, afraid of the loops your mind was jumping through, trying with all your might to focus on the tasks at hand. Your room needed to be tidied, the linens on your bed had to be cleaned and so you went about stripping the bed. A few drops of something dried a dark brown had stained part of the sheet, your stomach sank further still when you realized it might be blood. 

Okay, just calm down. Everything will be fine, you are not sick.

You gathered the sheets, and your strength, and went about doing what needed to be done.

It took a long time, too long and instead of heading out to run your errands you decided to stay in. Make yourself something warm and hearty for dinner, make yourself a tonic. That would have to work right? 

The sun set as you finally settled in to sit by the fire for the evening, falling into your fathers chair with a groan. The doorbell rang though and you seriously debated not answering, your eyes shut tight, the internal battle raging between your health, and your manners.

“My sweet? Are you well? It’s Max-“ he spoke loudly and your heart raced, making the decision for you. 

“Yes! One moment Max!” You rose unsteadily, inching your way towards the door as quickly as you could with how you were feeling. His face lit up when you opened the door, it fell soon after though, seeing the strain of it plain on your face. 

“Oh–” He made his way past you into the foyer. “-Are you quite well?” He moved to help you over to the chair, kneeling before you once you were seated.

“No Max, I’m afraid I’m a bit under the weather.” You tried to keep your voice light, tried to avoid his penetrating gaze. “You shouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t want you to catch whatever it is.” You pulled the light blanket higher up on your shoulders.

“Oh I very much doubt I could catch anything you might have.” He took hold of your hand, kissing the back of it quickly before moving to sit in the chair opposite. “What are you feeling?” His brow was furrowed, the gears in his mind turning smoothly.

“I feel tired.” The words were a sigh, compounding the sentiment. “Just bone tired, almost as though I cannot catch my breath.” Your hand came up to rest on your chest as you spoke. “My thoughts are slow, every part of me feels like it’s been slowed down—including my wits I think.” You took a deep breath and let out a deep sigh. “Worst is I cannot contact my mother and father, I fear something may happen to me while they are away.” 

“I can stay with you for a few hours, but something tells me you’re going to be just fine.” He winked and you couldn’t help but smile at his optimism. “Do you need anything? I can make myself useful.”

A thought popped into your head then, a fear—the fear.

“Would you mind laying with me for a time? In my bed? Just laying and talking?” It felt almost pathetic to ask him, this young, vibrant, healthy man—spending his night with a young, possibly very sick woman. 

“Of course my darling, I would be happy to. Come, I will help you.”

-

To your credit, you’d both laid there in the soft candlelight for a long time, talking about all of the different places he’d been and all of the different places you wanted to visit. He made you laugh, made you forget about how horrid you felt; made you feel special and wanted and so it inevitably led to you both being naked in your bed. 

Your feelings of weakness were now replaced with a mounting pleasure. His mouth was a steady suck at your nipple, his tongue circling the sensitive tip mercilessly while his hand worked away between your spread legs. Two thick fingers pumping, a thumb gliding, his tongue–a gorgeous dance being led to the tune of your pleasure. 

His cock was flushed with blood, hard and heavy against your thigh and leaking his pearly arousal onto your skin. You couldn’t help but reach down and wrap your hand around it, collecting everything that leaked from the tip to give him a stroke; try to make him feel at least half as good as he was making you feel. 

He moaned onto your skin, his hips chasing the friction of your slick fist, quicker and quicker until he groaned deeply, spilling his passion onto your thigh. And then his eyes found yours, the whites of them gone–the whole of them blacker than night and terrifying and then you felt it. 

A prick. 

Strangely familiar. 

There was no time to dwell on any of it though because his fingers were still pumping, his thumb still swirling and the force of your climax was enough to make you scream, then the darkness came. 

-

Glimpses of light plagued you, much like the dreams. One moment you were being chased by some huge, unseen monster, skirts whipping behind you through the night, a bloody grin never far behind. Then you’d open your eyes and be tossing and turning, sweat soaked and feverish in your own bed. 

It felt like hours. 

Hours of running, hours of tormented sleep, hours of confusion and god knows what else. 

I’m dying.

The thought came to you during a precious moment of clarity and all it did was scare you. 

Your eyes opened again, the light had faded, was it night? How many hours, days had gone by?

“Max?” It felt like another dream, this one cruel because he was there, healthy and glowing and sitting by your side. 

“I’m here, my darling.” His voice cut through the delirium, his hand a cool respite from fire burning just underneath your skin.

“Max-” Your voice was a hoarse croak, “I-I think I’m dying.” Tears streamed down your face, leaning into his hand with the little strength you had left.

“Yes, you are my love, but you don’t have to.” He stroked your face, leaning close to press his lips to your feverish brow. “You have a choice.”

“I don’t understand-” Was this another dream?

“If I leave you now, you will be dead by morning.” His voice was steady, “But there is another way. I could make you like me and then we can be together forever.” 

You couldn’t die now, there was so much to do, so much to see, and Max–he could have been the great love of your life and it wasn’t fair. 

“Like you? Max, I don’t want to die.” The tears flowed faster, fear and despair running rampant. 

Why couldn’t I have met you years ago?

“You don’t have to, I can make you like me.” He lifted your hand in his, placing a soft kiss at your wrist. “Would you like that? Do you want to be with me forever? I cannot help until you say yes.” He wiped away the tears and waited.

“Yes Max, I want to be with you forever.” He smiled a sharp smile, and in a flash he was at your throat, his kiss had teeth and it made you whimper, made you close your eyes and fall limp in his arms. There was a moment when you thought you’d lost consciousness but then there was something in your mouth, a thick liquid crawling down your throat and into your bloodstream. It was a balm, something to soothe the ache and the pain but it turned to acid in a flash. The web of hurt spreading like a lightning strike and burning twice as hot. 

It was agony. 

You’d been burned once as a child, your mother had been ironing one of your fathers suits. The red hot iron had merely grazed your arm, but the pain lingered for days, caused you sleepless nights and tears to spare. 

Compared to this, that burn was a kiss. That burn was the soft caress of a lover, a cool scrap of silk against your skin. 

“Max, what is happening to me?” Your voice is a strangled cry, the linens under you felt like steel wool. He answers and he's so much closer than you expected him to be while you thrash blindly. 

“It is almost over my love, soon the pain will pass.” His hand found yours through the chaos of the pain, a lifeline in the middle of a deep, dark, ocean. 

-

It could have been minutes, or hours that passed. It could have been years, but eventually the storm abated, and with it went the pain. 

“Max?” Your fingers flew up to your mouth, pressing against your lips, shocked at the way your voice sounded. Still your voice, but somehow more. 

“Yes my love, I am here.” His voice sounded different too, so much clearer—everything sounded clear. Too clear, the sound of the floorboards creaking under his steps so much louder than you’d ever heard it. “You will adjust.” He crouched beside your place in the bed and your eyes widened when you took him in. It was as though he’d been hiding behind a paper screen before, the shape of him clear enough to distinguish him from another, but somehow vague. 

He was devastatingly handsome, his skin smooth as polished marble, his eyes every shade of honey brown at once. 

“What did you do to me?” You reached out to touch him and you noted the perfect skin of your hands, almost doll-like.

“What you asked,” he grasped your hand in his, placing a kiss on your palm. “I have made you like me. Come—get dressed and we will eat.”

His words were like a punch to the stomach, hunger spreading like a bruise throughout your body, the pain of it almost debilitating.

“I might faint of hunger Max, where will we eat?” You dressed as quickly as you could, ignoring the slight tremble in your hands.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something.” He helped you dress, pulling you from what you’d come to believe was your deathbed and out into the night but before you’d made it out the door, you caught your reflection and gasped.

It was you, that was to be sure but it wasn’t the You you’d come to expect to see. The woman in the mirror has your face, and your eyes, your hair—but she was different. Her skin was perfect. Her eyes sparkled, her teeth shone so white.

 It was mesmerizing.

“Is that me?” You watched the reflection, her beauty shifted, something predatory in the eyes.

“Yes my love, that is you.” He placed a kiss on your neck. “Come, before the sun rises.” He pulled you away from the mirror, and into hell.

-

“It’s overwhelming, I know, but you will adjust, as I did.” His voice is the anchor, a tether holding you from getting lost in the chaos. Has it always been this bad? This loud? Your feet carry you through the streets, with his hand guiding you along and the closer you get to the thick of it–to the crowd milling about the high street where the worst it is. 

“I know my love–” His arm slips around your waist, pressing you close. “-Just a little further, and I will find you what you need.” Your stomach roils, the hunger-the thirst rips a swathe through your being. 

“Why am I so hungry Max?” You stumble over a loose cobble but he steadies you, lifting you back onto your feet as though you were made of paper and it almost scares you how strong he is. 

“Because you have not eaten.” His words are casual, a seemingly simple answer for a seemingly simple question. It didn’t feel simple though, not with the way you could barely concentrate. Everything seemed to be amplified, the dial on the radio turned to an uncomfortable volume and there was no way to turn it down. Distorted voices, an incessant thumping so loud it made you blink to its beat. 

Worst of all, was the smell. 

The city smelled rotten. The cloyingly sweet smell of overly ripe fruit, the sour smell of unwashed bodies, the moldy smell of old bread, hard packed dirt filled with worms, but threaded through it was the rich smell of butter and fine wine–the green of summer grass. Underneath everything though was something else, something mouth-watering–something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

He led you towards the park, the vast, open, green space where you would have never gone unaccompanied, much less at night. It was hard to feel afraid with Max though, it was hard to feel anything but intense hunger. 

“That one there is a good candidate.” He gestures to a middle aged man. “He won’t be missed.” He watched you, an encouraging smile on his handsome face, you frowned in response. 

“I don’t understand–” You looked at the man again, he must have been in his late forties, maybe even early fifties. 

“You are hungry my love, eat.” He gestures again and your stomach sinks. “Oh come now, no need to be coy with me my darling, I can feel your hunger.” He smiles not unkindly at what must be a shocked expression. “If it makes you feel any better, he’s the worst sort of person. I can hear it in his mind, believe me, you will be doing this world a favour.” He kisses the back of your hand, soothing. 

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, Max.” Your hands tremble, “I cannot–” The man walks closer and the smell of him almost knocks you off your feet, the thumping is back and you’re horrified to realize it’s his blood. A thunderous sound pounding through his body and through your head, and before you realize what you’re doing, your feet are carrying you to him. 

It felt as though someone else was controlling you, something else entirely had taken over your senses, your limbs.

“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing.” The older man spots you then, his eyes light up with something altogether unwholesome, “What are you doing out this late, and all alone?” His eyes rake over your body in a way that would have scared you had you not been so focused on the sound his blood was making. 

“So… hungry…” You barely heard yourself over the sound of his heart, barely saw anything but the seemingly glowing network of veins in his skin, all of it a gorgeous lace pattern. 

“What’s that sugar-” He didn’t get to finish his question. Something in your body, something in your very being sprung out, a sudden, awful ache bloomed in your upper jaw before you bit into the salty flesh of his neck, piercing the brightest, thickest vein. 

Euphoria. 

Your body was curled around him, fingers digging into his arms, clutching him ever closer, your fingers so like the talons of some monstrous bird of prey.

He was silent as you took your fill, pull after pull of what tasted like the thickest, most delicious wine. 

“That’s enough my love, not too much.” Firm, strong hands managed to break your hold on the man much too soon. “You cannot drain him. I know, I know.” He soothed your pained expression, wiped at your mouth with his thumb, sticking it into his mouth with a sharp smile. “Believe me, it’s better to stay hungry than to kill outright. Could make you very sick. Come–let's go home.” He fussed at your clothes for a moment before dragging the man over to a bench. You glanced back at him as Max led you away, to anyone walking by, he was just some tired, old man—resting alone.

The walk back to his home was only slightly easier to handle, the sounds, the smells, the cloying press was almost tolerable now that your stomach was full. 

“Here we are, just here.” The house is much bigger than you’d anticipated, grand, but still tasteful. Years worth of ivy had already conquered most of the facade, giving it a cottage-like appeal and drawing your eye as he guided you inside. “The sun will be up soon, we must get into bed.” 

“Why?” Your eyes roamed throughout the space, noting the almost clinical cleanliness of the place. The rug under your feet, perfectly laid, cushions on the settee without a single sign of ever having been sat on. 

“Well, because the sun would kill us, my love.” He says it offhand, making your eyes widen at the back of his head. “We are impervious to almost everything, except that.” He opens a set of double doors at the top of the stairs and what greets you stops you in your tracks, eyes wide and full of terror. 

“Max, why is there a massive coffin in here?” You stand at the door, frozen in place. 

“Come now, there is nothing to be afraid of, it is where I sleep, where we will sleep–until I purchase you your own.” He smiles, his hands smoothing the worry on your face away with a welcome tenderness. “Believe me, once you get in, you will sleep just as soundly as you ever have in a regular bed, I promise you.” He pulls your gaze from the morbid thing to his own eyes, and in them you cannot help but find comfort, and honesty. 

“Promise?” You press yourself a little closer and he smiles, nodding before placing a cool kiss to your forehead.

“Of course, come–we haven't much time.” He places another quick kiss at your brow before starting to undress. You follow suit and once completely nude, he opens the box and lays in it, opening his arms to you. You hesitate for a second, but get in just the same, he closes the lid and plunges you both in complete, and utter darkness. 

 “That’s my good girl, are you comfortable?” There is just enough room to fit into one another's arms, even with your heightened senses–it is difficult to make out anything within the confined space. 

“Yes, there’s not much room, but I’m okay.” You scoot as close as you can, your face pressed into the crook of his neck. “Have you always slept here?” Your hand rests against his chest, just as his strokes at the skin of your back as best as he can. 

“Yes, since I was turned.” He moves his face, and finds your lips in the dark. “It’s nice to have you in here with me.” He kisses every inch of your face he can reach. Soft, chaste kisses that make you smile, until he deepens it. His tongue tastes sweet but you pull away before it can turn into anything more just yet. You smile when he chases your mouth. 

“Max-“ He finds your mouth again, cutting off your words and replacing them with a moan, “Max, tell me what you’ve done to me.” Your fingers thread through the short crop of his hair as he moves his kisses to your neck, to the base of your throat, and further still to the stiff peaks of your breasts. You bite your tongue as he takes on into his mouth, managing to distract you for a moment. 

He hums around a nipple, biting at it before soothing it with his tongue. You don’t know how, but you find your voice amid this assault.

“Max, tell me—oh-“ he manages to get you on your back within the small space, manages to squeeze himself between your legs and before he can distract you with his tongue again, you yank his hair back, silently relishing the deep groan he gifts you with. “Focus Max, I need you to answer my questions, I am at a loss and very confused.” You stroke the place where you yanked at his hair, “Please, Max, I need to know what you’ve done to me.” 

“I have made you into something else, something more. I have turned you into a vampire like me. Now we can be together forever.” He presses another kiss to your mouth, once again chaste. “You are neither dead, nor alive. You simply exist, as I do. You will need blood to sustain you, and a coffin at night to sleep in. You will never grow old, you will never get sick-“ he presses kisses to your neck between his words, “-you need never fear anything, and with me, you will never want for anything, ever again.”

“I am… not myself anymore?”

“You are more, you are better, you are at your full potential. You are mine, and I am yours. Neither of us ever need be alone again.” 

It was almost too much to bear, the change you now felt so keenly. His weight on top of you was nothing, the difference in your senses, the difference in your body, it was all almost too much and for a moment you thought you might drown in it.

“Peace, my love, be at peace.” He heard the sob crawl out of your throat, the emotion of it all getting the better of you. With an awkward shuffle you were in his arms again, weeping into the skin of his neck. “I know it is a big change, but I am here to guide you through it.” 

There were many and more questions you needed answered, but there would be more than enough time for that later. Eventually, the darkness of the space, the feel of him wrapped around you, the comfort in the steady sweep of his hands on your skin lulled you into just what he’d promised it would; warm, comfortable and dreamless sleep.

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[lambsouvlaki]

Shelter from the Storm - Dangerous

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, mentions of violence, fluff

Word Count: 400

Summary: Jason knows she can defend herself, but she doesn't have to. Not while he's there to catch her.

Masterlist

Jason stood between her and a room full of bodies.

The attic stank of blood and burning rubber. The mercs’ armour wasn’t as sturdy as they must have hoped. 

He holstered his gun and rolled a charred body over with his boot. 

“This one’s dead,” he said. 

“Fireballs do that,” she muttered.

He looked sidelong at her. She stepped gingerly around a body collapsed on the broken table. The concrete walls were riddled with bullets. She ran shaking hands through her messed up hair, and winced as it pulled on the graze at her hairline. 

“You’re very willing to get lethal,” he said. 

“Don’t give me that,” she snapped. “I have very little choice here. And I won’t be told to pull my punches by someone carrying multiple grenades. Someone who isn’t being actively hunted for profit, I might add.”

He smiled grimly. He picked up her jacket from the floor. One of the mercs had ripped it off her when trying to grab her. Jason put a bullet in that man’s head. 

“I’m not telling you to make nice with your abusers,” he said. He held the jacket out for her, and slid it up her arms as she turned into it. He leaned down to speak in her ear. “When the moment of truth comes, if you can’t put those animals in the ground, I’ll do it for you.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. He didn’t know why she looked surprised. Didn’t she know? He would carve through as many of them as it took to keep her safe. 

“Oh.” The wall that normally lurked in her eyes wasn't there. 

“I can do it,” she said softly. 

“I know. But you don’t have to.” 

He gently adjusted her collar where it was rolled over itself. He didn’t know if she meant that or the fighting. He didn’t know if he did either. 

His knuckles grazed the bare skin of her collarbone.

Her breath hitched. 

He blinked at himself and turned away. 

He pushed one of the blinds aside and looked out into the compound below. He could see them starting to move. 

“They’re more dangerous than they look,” she said.

He glanced back and saw her retying her hair, all business once again. 

“So am I,” he said and drew his sniper rifle. 

[lunacyxxx]

Forget Me Not

contains mild violence nd yandere behavior from ur fave sorcerer, reader is fmab nd 18+

MDNI

You were very much unaware of your sensei’s growing obsession with you, Gojo Satoru was smitten as soon as he saw you. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest at your beauty and cursed energy, he could easily tell you had more than enough potential.

He did not want to let you go at all, does he feel bad for what he’s about to do? Maybe a little bit but he was going to make sure that his plan was going to work, he took up a mission with you concerning a special grade curse that had been lurking around a forest outside of Shibuya.

There was a sinking feeling in your gut as the two of you got out of the car by the forest, Satoru threw his arm over your shoulders and pulled you close to him.

“Don’t look so scared y/n, I’m here with you and plus I personally chose you to come with me because I know you can handle whatever is thrown at you. You are my best student after all, so let’s go.”

You blush lightly and look away shyly, the scent of his cologne wafting into your nose when he pulls you close. You were still trying to get used to how touchy he was at times, “I know and I appreciate it. I just have a bad feeling that’s all.”

Gojo clicked his tongue and patted your back, “You have nothing to worry about. I got your back.” Satoru smiles and ruffles your hair before leading you into the forest.

After what felt like eternity, the both of you found a dark cave with dark cursed energy leaking out in strong waves. By now, your nerves were screaming and there was a bead of sweat running down your temple. Gojo was watching you intently before letting his own cursed energy pulseate a few times.

The ground begins to rumble and you let out a startled squeak when your teacher grabs your arm and jumps out of the way just as a huge grotesque worm looking curse barrels out of the cave. Mouths and arms decorated the dark gray and purple skin of the monster, it had no eyes and let out a roar, “You ready?”

It was obvious Satoru was holding back against the curse, letting you take the initiative to defeat it, just when you were about to hit your limit you realized you were alone. Your eyes frantically look around for your teacher before the curse smacks you into a tree with one of its arms disorienting you. You stagger up and hold your side coughing up saliva, turning on your heel you quickly run away, having barely enough cursed energy to deal a powerful blow.

Your mind and heart was racing, where did Gojo go? Why did he just up and leave you? The whole time, your teacher was in the sky above you watching with a sick grin on his face.

Tears pricked in your eyes as you finally found a place under large tree roots, your body was throbbing in pain. Pain shoots through your trembling form as you lean against the harsh wood, you were pretty sure a few things were broken. The curse lumbers to the area you’re in and you cover your mouth to quiet your panting, just as you think you’re safe; the tree above you is knocked over and the roots are ripped from the ground.

Your vulnerable self is revealed to the curse that grabs you and slams you to the ground with a sickening thud causing you to lose consciousness and bleed from hitting your head so hard. Satoru feels a slight pang of guilt but he shakes his head and comes from the sky obliterating the curse just as it's about to eat you.

Your teacher catches your limp body in his arms and coos softly, “I hope you can forgive me y/n but I know for a fact you won’t forget me. He leaves the forest with you cradled to his chest, hoping things turned out how he planned.

Bright lights assault your eyes when you finally awaken, why were you in the hospital? Why was your body so sore and why were there bandages on your head? You turn your head to the left of you to see a man with white hair wearing a blindfold?

“Oh great honey! You’re finally awake, I’ll go let the doctor know,” he gets up and comes over to give your hand a squeeze before leaving the room. Gojo couldn’t hide the smirk adorning his face until he left the room and went to find the doctor that was in charge of your stay at the hospital.

The both of them return and the doctor smiles seeing that you were sitting up now, “Thank goodness you’ve finally awakened. You were in a coma for two weeks, how do you feel? If your boyfriend hadn't brought you here as quickly as he did then we wouldn’t have been able to save you.”

Your gaze turns to Satoru, your “boyfriend” and he smiles with a cheeky wave. “Yeah babe, that was a nasty car accident you were in. I'm so glad that you’re safe now though and we can go home right Doc?”

“Accident? Boyfriend? What happened and where exactly am I? Who are you?”

“Oh my, the injuries have given you amnesia. Good thing your boyfriend is here to help you right? We just have to check your vitals and everything before we can fully release you.” Satoru wasn’t happy about waiting but he bit his tongue and watched the doctor leave. He sat down in the chair beside you and lightly grabbed your hand, “Don’t worry y/n. I’ll make sure you get your memories back while making new ones.”

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but with the way he removed his blindfold and stared at you with a soft smile and his bright blue eyes; you couldn’t help but to trust him.

After all, the matching rings on your ring fingers had to mean something too right?

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

A Freak and a Basket Case: Chapter Two: Made in Heaven

From the Delulu Writer: You’re going to realize that I don’t write short fics. This was straight from Google Docs mobile. I don’t know how long this is, so fuck it we ball. I’m hoping the generous Eddie POV helps break this aversion to longer fics.

Warnings: Flight of Icarus spoilers, references to drug use, minor suicide mention.

[Masterlist] - Chapter One - Chapter Two (You are Here) - [Latest]

***

The ’85-’86 academic year had to be his year.

It had to be.

It was his last shot. The last hoorah. He had just barely made the cutoff age for the academic year, and it was a miracle in itself that Principal Higgins had a modicum of decency to give him a break and let him even try to attend school again. He would be cutting it too close for comfort, and during the summer Eddie Munson had promised his uncle that he would get his head out of his ass this time around. No more screw ups. No more bullshit scams.

That promise was made in summer, when he was still able to sleep in, hotbox the feelings of shame and guilt away in his van, and gorge on junk food during unholy hours of the early morning before passing out until noon.

Now that he was being jolted awake by both the shrill sound of the radio alarm, and his uncle was kicking his mattress to wake him up at four thirty in the morning before he’d even gotten a good chance at sleep, Eddie was ready to throw in the fucking towel. Bitter thoughts swarmed in his mind.

Fuck it. Kick me out of school. See if I give two shits.

He was at the point where he was forgetting what was important. Last year was a year of losses. Almost losing the Hellfire Club to bullshit blackmail orchestrated by a sadistic son of a bitch of a principal that he did not fully trust. Ronnie had at least reached out via letter after a time, and she sent a few clipped sentences written with an electric typewriter all the way from New York whenever she had enough money left over from dorm expenses to buy postage stamps. But Dougie had gone nuclear. Never quite forgiving his friend for what he had almost undone.

And then there was Paige…

Eddie had been thinking of that mess nonstop the first day back for some reason, running late stuck behind a green Dodge with wood paneling while also battling the commuters during the clusterfuck that constituted rush hour in Hawkins, Indiana. He didn’t know why he was in such a hurry when that morning he’d been ready to give up all over again. Emotions were running high and low, he felt like he was trapped on a broken-down roller coaster falling apart on a shoddy side of the road carnival. Wanting to jump off, throw up, scream, and cry all at once as the reality of everything set in.

Eddie Munson had fucked everything up. Once in a lifetime opportunities lost to the ages in the year of 1984.

’86 had to be his year. Otherwise, he had nothing else left.

He was on his way to his locker when a string bean of a freshman wearing khakis and a button down polo from the GAP slammed into him from behind. Eddie immediately turned around to catch him before he hit the ground, asking the dazed boy if he was okay, confirming it was so, then looking towards the source. He assumed it was a jock, it always was, but he saw no suspicious hunter green letterman jackets lurking in the throng of students looking to get to their classes.

And then there was the gaggle of girls laughing and pointing, but he couldn’t see the object of their teasing because once he came within five feet of their gaggle they saw Eddie the Freak and bolted. So far the first day back was shaping up to be one of those weird days, whispers abound of some bitch of a basket case wandering around dressed for a cold front in August.

For obvious reasons, Eddie was intrigued. A bitch of a basket case was new. Especially ones wearing winter coats in summer when the humidity drowned you before the heat got to you. He doubted there was any merit to the rumors truth be told, but he had to see it for himself. He searched high and low, ditching his first period class to see if he could catch a glimpse. And then like an answer to his prayers he heard a siren call:

Metallica on cassette. Kill ‘Em All Album. Side 1. Approximately thirty nine minutes and six seconds into the album. Track number nine. Seek and Destroy.

Blasting so goddamned loud that from his distance it sounded faint, but he knew that whoever was listening to it directly would be deaf before their twenty-first birthday.

He saw you beelining for the front door, and instantly Eddie was fascinated by you. Sure enough you were all bundled up in your quilted Carhartt jacket like a blue collar worker braving a blizzard, gray skirt swishing as you power walked down the hall. The music beckoned to him, and the Black Sabbath patch on your blue backpack encouraged him to follow. Despite the stormy look on your face and the fuck off aura radiating from you, Eddie couldn’t help but allow the admiration to take over. He wasn’t intimidated, he wasn’t repulsed by your demeanor or appearance. Quite the contrary, Eddie could see something in the way your body communicated to the world:

You were a lost, pathetic little lamb trying to butt heads with everyone and everything, unaware that the world was fanged and scary and could spit you out in a malformed bolus should it desire.

And yet you still kept trying to fight back.

It was as if his body was moving of his own accord. His heart knew before his brain could logically process what was happening. A compulsion, his inner wild child, sent signals to his feet to quicken his pace as he raced after you, adrenaline coursing through him as he heard nothing but the steady pace of your gait matching the pulse of Seek and Destroy. Eddie didn’t stop until he was so close he was breathing in your scent, and in a sudden burst of confidence, both hands flashed out and snatched you by the backpack straps, pulling you in until you were flush against him. He yanked off your headphones, getting in close until his lips were grazing the shell of your ear.

“You’ve got bitchin’ taste in music there, princess. Metallica, right?”

Your scream cut off the last bit, and he held onto you like he was holding a wild stallion steady as you jumped nearly ten feet in the air. You were still pressed with your backpack to his chest, your own little chest heaving with fear.

“FUCK ME FREDDY!” You hollered. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Eddie laughed hard as he spun you around to face him, hands steadying your shoulders as he looked you in the eye with a large smile on his face.

“Sorry, sorry… Relax. Didn’t mean to scare you there. But hey, at least that got your attention, right?”

You hit the pause button on your Walkman and killed the music, looking up with a stormy and defiant expression. Eddie realized something when you looked at him: you had been hiding behind fear. Your eyes, minimized by the thick coke bottle lenses within the frames of your glasses, began to soften when you looked at him. He could see the tightly wound tension leave your body as you relaxed. Your facade was slipping. Before him was an individual army crawling through hell to survive.

“You uh… you heard my music huh?” you said quietly.

Eddie grinned, nodding enthusiastically.

“Oh yeah. From all the way down the hall. You like Metallica?” he asked.

“Uh huh…”

Eddie grinned at the shy answer. God… You were adorable.

“Hell yeah, good taste. Metallica is one of my favorites too.”

He noticed you weren’t much for eye contact. As much as he tried to meet your gaze you wouldn’t look right at him. It seemed as if you were closing yourself off from everyone, a purposeful and calculated act. Understandable if he was being honest. Your eyes were red rimmed and your nose was still dripping a little bit. The morning must not have been kind. For a moment he saw your vulnerability, and it endeared him to you.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.” he said gently, holding out his hand.

“Eddie?” You cocked your head to the side, sweet little face looking up at him as if expecting a trick.

“Yup.” he popped the consonant at the end, and he tried to give you a sweet disarming smile to show his sincerity, “That’s me, Eddie Munson.”

Gently, slowly, he felt your warm hand envelop his. He shook it just enough; not too firm of a handshake that he scared you off, but not so weak that it seemed he didn’t want to touch you. Because if the way his heart was racing at the feel of your warm palm against his was any indication, he very much did want to touch you, and he wanted to make sure you knew it.

A few seconds ticked by, and you finally told him your name after letting go of his hand. He noticed at first that you seemed to try saying something else, but you quickly corrected yourself. Eddie repeated your name slowly. It suited you. Very lovely. Silence for a beat, and then you gulped and spoke up to end the silence.

“My favorite person in the whole wide world is an Eddie…” you mumbled softly.

“Yeah? Who’s this other Eddie?” He raised an eyebrow, dimples showing with the big cheeser he had on his face as he noticed you still weren’t letting go of his hand.

“Eddie V-… Eddie Van Halen…” you stammered.

Eddie’s heart nearly stopped.

“No way, are you shitting me right now?” he demanded.

You shook your head.

“No… I’ve seen him live… he’s… he’s really cool.”

Inhale through the nose, hold for five seconds, exhale through the mouth so he didn’t start having a heart attack.

“How the hell did you end up going to one of those concerts?” He managed

“… my dad. Last year... He took me for an early birthday present…”

So you’ve got good taste in music, and you have a dad that takes you to concerts like Van Halen as an early birthday present…

“They were pit side. I got one of the shirts at my house.”

God dammit… No. There’s no way. There’s no way in the hell that you’re real…

“Which concert was it?” He croaks tentatively.

“The 1984 Tour… I saw them and Autograph play… in Albuquerque.”

He had to stop you right there.

“Okay wait hold on, your dad seriously took you out of Indiana all the way into the middle of nowhere in New Mexico just to see Van Halen for your birthday?! Where in hell do you even live where that seems like a feasible option?! That’s a twelve hour drive at least!”

“I used to live in New Mexico.” You said softly. “I’m not from here…”

Yeah, yeah of course you weren’t from Hawkins. There was no way in shit someone as cool as you, someone who had been pit side to Van fucking Halen, could be from Indiana. It almost gave him flashbacks to shades of his ex, and he nearly wanted to pull away from the conversation. Yet you were so sweet, so different, and he knew if he let you just become a random anecdote in the annals of time, Eddie would have thrown up for weeks and then jumped into traffic if he saw you being poached by someone else.

He pressed on. Heart racing and trying to maintain so that he didn’t spook you.

“Could have fooled me, you don’t have the accent for it.” Eddie said, leaning up against one of the tan lockers.

You hesitated and bit your lower lip, nodding and rocking side to side on your feet as you began to pluck at the loose threads of your jacket.

“… people here don’t like to hear it. So I cover it up…” you said.

“Good idea. Because honestly, it’s not worth the trouble… You’re in Hicksville now. Hawkins isn’t the first narrow minded white bread town, and it’s not going to be the last. Especially if you don’t fit in with their good ol’ boys club mold. Hell, I don’t even fit in it. I’m the biggest target for these bigoted assholes with my reputation. I don’t doubt you’ll get the same amount of bullshit I do.”

“You…?” You blinked, confusion written on your face, “Why would anyone make fun of you?”

Harsh laughter erupted from his throat, and he was so consumed by the absurdity of your question that he didn’t notice you flinch back. As if he was being crucified, Eddie held out his arms dramatically wide, his battle vest opening up to show off his Led Zeppelin baseball tee with a couple of holes in the fabric where the rivets on his jeans had been rubbing against them.

“Take a good look at The Freak of Hawkins High sugarplum. I’m a long haired satan worshiping metalhead cult leader. I play shitty Pantera and Slayer covers in a dive bar every week. I deal drugs to the preppy kids that have more money than sense. I lure innocents in to play my little satanic Dungeons and Dragons games, and then I hotbox it in my van afterwards with them. I’m a Munson, furthest thing from a good little schoolboy. No, no, we Munsons drop out of high school and go to jail young, and probably die young too.”

He went on and on, the word vomit not stopping. If he was going to be honest with himself, he knew this potential thing you two had was dead on arrival from the moment you opened your mouth and started talking about Van Halen. You were way out of his league, even by metalhead standards. From what he gathered, you had deep pockets, or at least your dad did if he was able to take you to shit like Van Halen concerts, something Eddie could only dream of. Everything about this was scary. It was scary and horrifying and the only thing he could think of doing was self sabotaging before he got too attached to you.

And then you frowned, still looking at the floor, until you spoke up, looking him directly in his eyes.

“That doesn’t make no sense… Sounds like a bunch of horseshit to me.” You said simply.

He watched it all happen so suddenly and he couldn’t look away. His large brown eyes widening and his heart turning cartwheels in his chest when he saw the little twinkles of light, the little pinpricks of stars beginning to glimmer in your eyes as you held direct eye contact with him. It wasn’t just that you were cute, because Jesus H. Christ you were the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life. There were other things he’d never seen on anyone he’d dated: honest to god romance novel pining on your face, your soft lips parting slightly as if you wanted to speak but had lost the words. Your body moved in closer to him, and his own reciprocated purely on instinct, inviting you into his space.

Magnetism.

“None of it makes any sense does it?” He said, voice so low you had to lean further in to hear him, “But this is Hawkins. Judgemental jackanapes abound and people like you and me are lambasted for the crime of being different. Double for you I’m guessing, since you’re the new Hispanic kid in town.”

You nodded, looking hopefully at him.

“Let me guess, you had an easier time fitting in when you were in New Mexico, right?” He asked.

There was a brief hesitation as you gathered your thoughts.

“… Kind of. Maybe not towards the end, but there’s a lot of guys into heavy metal and leather and stuff. A lot of my tios- my uncles- are rockers. My brother likes it too.”

“Older or younger brother?” He asked.

“Older…”

“He get you into metal?” He grinned.

“Yeah.” You said, nodding, “He started me on Black Sabbath and Ozzy, my favorites other than Van Halen. My dad was the one who showed me Van Halen… oh, and Dio…”

“Rad… your dad and your brother got you set up with the best of the best. You have some of the most badass taste in music in all of Hawkins right now.” Eddie praised, and he’d wished he had complimented you sooner, because now that he saw you smile and giggle at his compliments he couldn’t get enough, “… and that’s a hell of a smile you’ve got there sweetheart. And a pretty laugh to match.”

“Quit it…” you giggled.

“Hell no, you can’t just tell me to quit it the second I give you a compliment. Gotta take the compliments where you get them.”

There was that smile, that goddamned cute giggle. The reaction he wanted. You covered up your mouth as you began to uncontrollably laugh, as if you’d taken a fat hit of reefer and had the permanent giggles. He loved people like you, who acted high and giggly without any external help. But he didn’t like how you were trying to hide those teeth from him. He wanted to see it. Wanted to see your smile and bask in the good feeling it gave him.

“Ah ah, none of that!” He scolded, holding up a finger, “You quit hiding that pretty face from me. What? You don’t want me to see it?”

“Nuh uh!” You giggled.

A devilish grin came over Eddie’s face.

“You gonna make me get forceful, sweetheart?”

“Noooooo…!” You whined, laughing harder as you shook your head quickly.

“Cut it out then. Put that damn hand down, lemme see that pretty face.”

Eddie began to wrestle your hand away from your face as you squealed in delight, shrinking in on yourself as he let out a mad giggle. He was enjoying this, enjoying the feeling of touching you and not having his face slapped or being punched in the stomach. You welcomed his touch, almost craved it, flying into a fit of hysterical laughter when he played dirty and grabbed your sides, tickling your soft plump abdomen so that you were forced to move your hands away from your face to shield your belly.

At the end of it, Eddie was breathless with laughter, holding your sides and swaying with you. Coming down from your fun, he saw your smile for the first time. No pearly whites. He could see the flaws and imperfect teeth as you smiled ear to ear.

Real recognizes real…

You are very much real. Very much so. You’re warm and soft and real underneath his fingertips.

“Princess,” he breaths.

You cock your head, swaying side to side and your grin never leaves your face.

“There we go.” He says softly, stroking your sides, “There’s that beautiful smile. See? Much better when you’re not hiding it behind your hands.”

Your eyes sparkled, starry eyes…

He’d only ever seen hungry eyes before. Only ever been desired like one desired a succulent steak or a rich slice of cake. Last year felt like he was giving up so many vital aspects of himself that he almost felt like an imposter when he kept trying to have a better year, a shot at a better life. Everyone had taken from him last year, gnawing at the bones of his corpse until there was nothing left.

Paige looked at me like she wanted to eat me…

But you…

You look at Eddie Munson as if you are awestruck by him, and as shocking as the feeling is, it makes him feel beautiful for a split second. He feels important. He feels valued, like he’s been the epitome of good alignment his whole life and the chaotic parts don’t matter. You look at him like you’re seeing a mythical hero. As if your village was burning to the ground all around you and he’d just come in the nick of time, clad in mithril armor, immune to the flames and devastation and ready to swoop you up to your feet.

But that defiance when you first faced him, the fire in you, it’s a strength, it’s a power he is drawn to. Realistically he knows if he were to swoop in it wouldn’t be to save you, it would be to help you pick up your own sword and fight alongside him.

He wanted that. He wanted someone to fight life’s battles alongside him.

He wanted that someone to be you.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Gojo Convincing You To Sneak Out Of The Dorms Pt. 2

Gojo Satoru X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Just lots of fluff and Gojo

Word Count: 1.k

Part 1: here

(A/N:) I had to do a part 2 of my most recent Gojo fic, cause we all know the man didn’t mature at all once he became a teacher. So he would totally sneak out with the reader as an adult. Plus as a reader of the manga (and reading the new chapters as soon as they drop) I wanted to help Anime only watchers through some things that are gonna happen. I’m not giving spoilers but enjoy some more of my Gojo content. I hope y’all like it and until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The peaceful atmosphere of the Jujutsu High school seeped into bathing room as the warm water seeped into your bones. The day’s exhaustion was catching up with you quickly as chasing young up and comeing sorcerers around all day was tiresome. Throw a Gojo Satoru in the mix and that exhaustion tripled. So your evening bath had become a time to relax and unwind before going to bed. Well it was when you could keep Gojo from barging in and gifting you with his presence.

So far this evening you hadn’t seen that familiar head of silver hair and it was making you a little nervous. The last you had heard he hadn’t had any missions come up, so it was most likely Gojo was still lurking around somewhere. If he wasn’t around you, he was definitely up to something. Everyone knew that but you had the chance of getting closer to Gojo after a relationship had blossomed between the both of you while you were both students. Now that you both were teachers, you and him tried to be a little more discrete about your relationship. Mainly you, as Gojo enjoyed embarrassing you with ridiculous acts of PDA that borderlined on being more on the obnoxious side. You couldn’t really lie to yourself though that you didn’t love the attention, though the obscene ridiculousness of his affections would cause you to blush blood red.

With a warm cup of tea and a novel on your bedside table, there was still no sign of Gojo as you turned off the light of your bedroom and flicked on the lamp at your bedside. Your nighttime routine was supposed to be relaxing, but you couldn’t unwind with the threat of a quiet Gojo lurking around. Settling under your blankets and cracking the book open on your lap, you took a sip of tea. Your bedroom window slammed open startling you into almost spitting out a mouthful of tea.

“Is my favorite pretty lady in here,” Gojo asked as he hung halfway into your room through the window. Shoving blankets aside you shoved him back out of the window causing the powerful sorcerer to pout.

“What are you doing?!”

“Let’s sneak out,” he replied grabbing your arm. “Like we used to do.”

You shook your head holding firm against his not so gentle tugs on your arm, “Let’s not.”

“Why not?”

“C’mon Satoru we have to set an example for the kids,” you sighed removing your arm from his grip before trying to shut your window, only for him to stop you.

“I am setting an example for my students,” Gojo smirked.

“Yeah a bad one,” you retorted. “We’re adults now and teachers nonetheless, we can’t play these childish games anymore.”

“I feel like your speech about being adults and teachers is making me nauseas.”

“You make me nauseas. Go back to sleep.” 

“I can’t,” he whined barging his way inside. For such a tall lanky man he was surprisingly agile coming through your window. He swept you up in his arms holding you close. “The night is so young and so are we.”

“Mmm hmm you’re making it sound so romantic Gojo,” you snorted. “I haven’t been young in ages and if I don’t sleep my students suffer.”

“They suffer either way with your teaching,” he grinned before yelping after you pinched his arm hard.

“Very funny,” you shoved him away. “Go take a walk by yourself, it’ll be just as romantic.”

“Please,” he kissed you softly and you melted. “Just for an hour.”

This was always your downfall. Whenever he didn’t get what he wanted it was those pouty lips and those bright blue eyes he kept hidden until this exact moment. He knew how much of a weakness he was to you and Gojo played his cards well. Viciously tearing down your walls until you agreed to whatever he wanted. Which didn’t take long with those ridiculously long eyelashes and insanely gorgeous blue eyes.

You sighed, body sagging in defeat. “Fine.”

You didn’t have to say a word more until he was helping you out your window and out onto the darkened streets below the school. You held your robe closed with one hand while Gojo held the other one. Why you didn’t think to let him give you a few moments to change, you’d never know. Now you get to walk around hand in hand with the world’s strongest sorcerer in your pajamas.

“You look fine,” Gojo spoke up leading you further away from the school.

You glared causing him to smirk. “Oh yeah sure I look fine in my designer pajamas walking beside Mr. Effortlessly Gorgeous.”

“You think I’m gorgeous.”

“Shut up,” you snarled blushing pink.

Gojo squeezed your hand tighter, leading you onwards until you were lost in the scenery going by. Gojo remained unusually quiet, until the crash of waves on the shore took your attention. He grinned widely turning loose of your hand so you could run towards the waves. The memories of your first time here at the beach with Gojo surfaced and it made you laugh. He joined you in your glee, splashing you with salty water and you returning fire. Seconds later he was chasing you down the beach until he tackled you to the sand. You cackled loudly, slapping at him playfully with no mournful thought to your gritty hair and clothes. The sand was still a little warm from the residual heat from the sun and it contrasted nicely with the cool night. You laid out enjoying it while breathing heavily. Gojo did the same but laid on his side so he could brush sand from your cheek.

“Thanks for talking me into coming out here,” you nuzzled closer.

“You’re welcome,” he cooed. “Time with me is never wasted.”

You snorted at his egotistical comment but kissed his cheek nonetheless. You rolled back over watching what stars you could see in the sky, enjoying a much needed quiet moment with the sorcerer you still loved dearly. You looked forward to spending all the time you could with him as long as you both were alive and able.

[rfxiii]

Okay but......... Franklin Clinton being jealous/protective

(ik ik this trope is basic and overdone , BUT I LOVE THE JEALOUS TROPE😭)

(so sorry for the long wait! 😭 and tysm for a Franklin ask! there’s a shameful lack of Franklin stuff out there and I’m happy he’s getting some love <3 anyways, I love this troupe and loved writing about it! I hope you like it!)

TW: none

Franklin Clinton Being Jealous/Protective Over A S/O:

He’s so protective over you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and there’s nothing in the world he’s going to let hurt you. Whether it’s one guy trying to flirt and making you uncomfortable, or a whole group of guys catcalling you, Franklin is ready to fight if it means making you feel safe.

Since you are, quite literally, the best thing in his life he does tend to get a little jealous. He’s handsome, smart, talented, but he hasn’t ever had really good luck with a lasting relationship or someone that cares for him like you do. So, he does get a little jealous. He’s proud of the skills he’s learned from Michael, and of how far he’s come. But regardless of if you’re unemployed or a millionaire he’s always going to have this feeling in the back of his mind like he’s not good enough for you.

He lets his feelings fester. He’s embarrassed of getting jealous over things and won’t necessarily come to talk that over with you when he first starts feeling that way. He’ll sit on the feelings until he’s made it into something way bigger than it originally was. It can cause fights sometimes, and if you excuse yourself to get some space and think things over he starts to panic that you’re going to leave him. It’s usually once he’s panicked that he finally opens himself up to talking about what’s bothering him.

He’s not necessarily insecure- but if you’re out and he notices another guy eyeing you, or even if Lamar makes some kind of passing comment about how hot you are, Franklin is instantly on the defensive. If it’s Lamar or another person he’s close with he’ll make some snappy comment about backing off or how you’re out of their league- it usually dissolves into lighthearted banter and taunts after that. But if it’s just some rando on the street or in the club he’ll watch your body language to see if you’ve noticed or if you're uncomfortable then either remove you from the situation or aggressively confront the guy depending on how insistent the offender is.

He’s not the steal your phone, or lurk through your social media following, kind of guy. But if he catches you on your phone during a time where it’s supposed to just be you and him, or if y’all are out and he notices you checking your phone or smiling to yourself he may let his thoughts get the better of him. He won’t take your phone or demand to see texts. But he may get a little grumpy and give you an offhanded “Who got you smiling like that?” or “Who’s textin’ you this late?”.

A master at the discrete death glare. You can have guy friends. But if he catches even a hint of this guy trying to make a move, he’s gonna give him a look that’ll have him quickly reconsidering.

He can be..a little underhanded and sneaky. If you have a male friend that won’t back off, that you don’t realize is flirting with you, he may just send Lamar, or worse, Trevor, to scare him off. It’s not that he can’t do it himself, but it’s a way to keep his hands clean. Having one of his crazy friends do it gives him plausible deniability.

If he misconstrues a situation badly enough, or you ever do break his trust, Michael will be right there to help him pull this guy's house off a cliff or chase him through the city too. Franklin has always had his back and he’s going to help return the favor if he needs it.

But really, Franklin is a great guy. And while he may have his shortcomings or insecurities - as everyone does, he does truly love you. All he needs is a little reassurance and for you to spend some time earning his trust. But once you’ve got him convinced that you do truly love him and won’t leave him, he’s yours forever. He’ll protect you and he’s a little possessive of you. But can you blame him? He loves you more than anything.